#What they also evoke are genuine tears in my eyes

[saints-who-never-existed]

A chilly and overcast wee pilgrimage to see my good friend John Irving.

(There's a Goodsir relative buried here somewhere too but alas I was too hungover to find him...!)

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

[cozage]

Good morning, how are you doing ?

I'd like to ask for a scenario (maybe a one shot) where the asl brothers react to a female reader being cheated on, if they're going to beat the guy up or just comfort them, maybe even confess to them

Also I'm not sure if you accept more than 3 characters but if ever

I would also like Shanks in platonic… I just see him as a father figure to the reader (you don't have to add it, the three brothers are enough)

Here, thank you for considering my request and I wish you a good day / evening

A/N: This is my first AU I hope it turns out okay???

Au: Modern day college kind of?  Idk they’re not pirates but they are still gremlins

Characters: female reader x Ace (a little?), ASL, Shanks

Cw: breakup, cheating

Total word count: 1.5k

There When You Need Us

The handle to your door begins to jiggle, but the lock stops it from turning any further. 

“Hey!” Ace yells from the other side. “Why weren’t you in class today? And you didn’t pick up on the transponder snail earlier.”

“Go away, Ace,” you yell at him from under the covers. The last thing you need is for him to rub it in your face about how right he was about your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. 

“Just tell me what’s going on!” He starts to bang on the door, and you groan. 

You’re about to get out of bed and let him in, but the banging comes to a sudden halt, and there’s silence outside your door. Then, you hear the soft click of the lock releasing, and the door springs open. Ace stands in the door frame, grinning mischievously with a hairpin in his hand. 

His face falls when he sees your puffy eyes and the tissues strewn throughout your bed. 

“What happened?” He asks, walking over to your bed and sitting on the edge, his face full of concern. 

“I don’t want to hear it, Ace.” Your voice is raw from crying so much. “I don’t need you rubbing it in my face, okay?”

“Rubbing what in your face? What are you talking about?” You can by his expression, he genuinely doesn’t know. Belmeppo must’ve kept it hush. Couldn’t have him ruining his parent’s perfect image of their perfect family. 

“Bel. He-” your voice catches in your throat, and you don’t want to say it out loud. Saying out loud makes it real.

But Ace finishes the sentence. “He cheated on you, didn’t he? That bastard.” His words evoke another round of tears, sobs escaping your lips. 

“He said he never loved me,” you sobbed, turning back into your pillow to muffle the sounds. “He was just using me.”

Ace was quiet for a few minutes, letting you cry as much as you needed to. His heart ached seeing you so broken over some stupid guy. You deserved someone so much better than anyone in this small-minded town. You deserved someone who would hang the sun and the moon and all of the stars around you. 

“Sabo? Luffy? It’s Ace.”

“What does she need? Medicine? Water? Takeout food?” Sabo’s voice came from the other side of the transponder snail, and you froze. 

“Revenge.” Ace’s voice was dark and ominous, and you could hear Luffy cheering on the other side of the transponder. His excitement almost made you laugh. 

Ace got off the bed and stood next to your pillow. He patted your head gently, running his fingers through your hair 

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle, you thought you imagined it. 

“Ace, don’t-” you got up to stop him, but he was already out the door, softly closing it behind him. 

--

After a few minutes, you heard your door open again. 

“What did you-” You stopped when you realized it wasn’t Ace. 

“Hey kiddo,” Shanks whispered, peeking in. “I know I said I wouldn’t bother you, but…” He pushed the door open a bit more, holding a mug of hot chocolate. “Can I come in?”

You nod, wiping your face to remove any stray tears, though it didn’t do much good. Your eyes were still red and swollen from a day of crying, but your adopted father didn’t comment on that. He simply handed off the mug and sat on your bed next to you, waiting for you to start the conversation. 

You take a long sip of hot chocolate, allowing the warmth to rush through your body. “Don’t say I told you so.”

A smile dances across Shank’s face. “I wasn’t going to.”

“Mmmmhmmm.” You take another long drink of hot chocolate, whipped cream tickling your nose. 

“There’s a time for that,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to him. “But now is the time for hot chocolate and hugs.”

Your vision starts to get blurry again, and you wipe away the tears forming in your eyes. You take another drink, trying desperately to refocus yourself and keep calm. 

“Do you know where Ace went?”

Shanks laughed and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Probably best you don’t know.”

You groaned. “He’s going to get arrested.”

“Only if he gets caught. And if he does what I told him, he won’t.”

You shoot him a look. “What did you tell him to do, dad?”

“Already told you.” He gave you another kiss. “Probably best you don’t know.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re all just a bunch of troublemakers, I swear.”

“Hey now,” Ace said, walking back into your room. “What’s wrong with making some trouble?”

You smiled when you saw him, the first real one you’ve had today. Sabo and Luffy walk in behind him, smiling proudly. They’re all breathing heavily, and their skin is glistening with sweat. 

“You should’ve seen it, Y/N!” Luffy cried out, pumping his fist in the air. “We totally-”

Sabo pounced on Luffy, covering his mouth before he could spill out any more information. “We’re not supposed to tell her, idiot. Keep your mouth shut!”

“Fine, fine!” Luffy giggled mischievously. “She’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

You groaned at that statement. “Why can’t you guys just make my life easier for once?”

“Because,” Ace walked over and sat on the other side of you. He looked at your face and frowned, then wiped the whipped cream off your nose with his finger. “That’d be a boring life. And we’re not boring.”

Shanks took this moment to take his leave from your room, satisfied that the brothers would keep you adequate company. “Do any of you want hot chocolate?”

“Me!” They all yelled in unison, and Shanks left the room to fulfill the request. 

Sabo sifted through your game drawer, pulling out UNO. It was a game the four of you frequently played at your house, and it felt comforting to fall into some kind of normalcy. After you all got tired of screaming about cards, Sabo picked up the remote and flicked on the TV, and you all found a funny movie to watch to pass the time. 

The brothers stayed with you long into the night. Normally once the sun started to dip below the mountain, Shanks sent them home, but tonight he was generous in letting them stay. He could hear you laughing in your room, which was more than worth the call he’d have to make to Dadan about her boys being home late. 

The four of you were curled up in your bed and watching a movie when Shanks appeared in your doorway, and you felt your heart sink a little at his facial expression. He always wore the same look when he was about to disappoint you. 

“Do you three want to stay over? It’s a bit late to head back up the mountain, but it’s about time for bed. Class tomorrow for everyone,” he said, eyeing you. 

“Sleep over!” The boys yelled in unison. They were always on the same page.

“In the other room,” Shanks said sternly. It didn’t escape his gaze that you were resting your head against Ace’s chest, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. You hadn’t seemed to notice or mind it, but Ace’s cheeks turned pink when he realized he had been caught. 

“We can all fit in this bed!” Luffy said defiantly. “And we’ll go straight to sleep! Pleaseeeeee!”

Shanks laughed and shook his head. “Come on boys, your options are the guest bedroom or a hike up the mountain.”

Ace quickly got up, and he and Sabo pulled Luffy out of the room along with them. With all of the noise and bodies gone, you suddenly felt very empty and alone. You hadn’t thought about Belmeppo since the brothers had joined you, but now it was all you could think about. You were tired of crying, so when the tears started to come, you refused to let them spill out of your eyes. 

You laid down, trying to sleep, but the dream world refused to take you. You tossed and turned for several minutes, until you heard your transponder snail ringing softly next to your head. 

You let it ring a few times, scared of who it might be. But finally curiosity got the better of you, and you picked up. 

“I told you she’d pick up!” Sabo’s voice echoed through the speaker, and you could hear his muffled voice from the other room. 

“Shhhh! Shanks will hear us!” Ace scolded, and you giggled at them. 

Ace’s voice softened when he spoke to you. “We can’t be with you, but at least we can fall asleep together.” 

“Yeah,” Sabo agreed. “We’ll always be there when you need us.”

“Thanks, you guys.” You curled up next to your snail transponder, falling asleep to their bickering and random spoken thoughts. 

[rookie-critic]

Linoleum (2023, dir. Colin West) - review by Rookie-Critic

I love it when a movie surprises me. Some of my favorite moviegoing experiences from the last few years have been going into something relatively blind, and coming out with something I will absolutely never forget. It gave me C'mon C'mon, my top film from 2021, it gave me The Worst Person in the World, my #3 film 2021, and it has now given me Linoleum. The film follows Jim Gaffigan's Cameron Edwin, an astronomer who hosts a declining children's science show à la Bill Nye the Science Guy who, due to the said decline of his show as well as his marriage, which is on the brink of divorce, is in the middle of a well-earned mid-life crisis. Also, a car with an award-winning astronaut in it falls from the sky next to his mailbox and he is the only person who witnesses the "accident," and nobody believes it really happened. The film invokes a lot of magical realism and, from the opening scene, evokes a Gondry-esque dream-like quality not too far removed from the French director's films Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and The Science of Sleep.

The film is mean to it's protagonist, but not in a malicious way: his daughter Nora (portrayed by Katelyn Nacon in a fantastic performance) is disrespectful to him in a way that teenagers often are, but clearly has a love for him as she watches and seems to genuinely enjoy his children's show, his wife (portrayed by a fresh-off Better Call Saul Rhea Seehorn in an equally fantastic performance), who is in the process of falling out of love with him, still shows the hallmark signs of lingering care for this person she'd built a life with. Everything feels very domestic and real in it's dreaminess, but still, something about the full picture isn't quite right. That is, until the third act, when the film slams all of its individual, seemingly disjointed and mysterious pieces together to form a complete 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle of a moving and incredible story about how we live our lives and how, looking back, it is a beautiful and wondrous miracle that we all get to spend any amount of time on this small, blue rock we call planet Earth with one another. It shows us that, between despair and hope, between love and hate, that ultimately, hope prevails, love wins, and our intrinsic curiosity about the universe drives us forward towards something fantastic. What that is will be different for everyone, but there is beauty in that unknown, and we should all strive to close our eyes and let the universe form that fantastic something around us and guide us through it.

Normally, I'd take a handful of sentences here to talk about things I didn't like about the film. I could say that the film's final act takes big, artistic swings that will most likely not please all viewers. I could say that elements of the story don't mesh well with the answers to the film's mysteries. These are things that I can see people complaining about with Linoleum, but I would urge those people to watch it again, and really open your mind up to what the film is doing with that third act. Don't be the person telling Cameron to be more practical and that the answer is "not that simple," because the truth is, much like we're told in the film, it probably is. I used to not cry at films at all, and I would tell people that something would have to be truly, uniquely moving to draw tears out of me. Over the past few years I've realized that is no longer the case (maybe it never was), and I openly and proudly cry frequently during movies and shows. I genuinely believe that, had I seen this back when I didn't shed the frequent tear, that I would still have done so while watching Linoleum. It ticked all the right boxes and did all the right things to make it an instant classic in my eyes, and I can't recommend it highly enough.

Score: 10/10

Only in theaters as a limited release. Check your local listing to see if it's playing in a theater near you.

[divorceconnoisseur]

sadly honks my clown nose. turns to leave tigger gif style but my clown shoes make a real loud slap slap slap sound as i walk away, which adds an unintentionally comedic element to my genuine despair. such is the burden of being one of life's clowns. i get into my comically small clown car and blast evanescene as i drive away sobbing. you can barely hear evanescence over the circus music my clown car naturally produces everytime its turned on.

which begs the question: what does comedy mean when you can never escape it? never set it down to feel or evoke different emotions in other people? to bare your heart and always be met with laughter? would comedy not become a kind of horror then? the smiling makeup. the thrown pie. the pie filling dripping down your face again and again in a mockery of tears. perhaps to the clown the act of becoming a horror movie monster is a threat (to be once more changed into something with a limited range of interpretation) and yet also something like a dream. to smile and bear teeth. to laugh until you and they scream. perhaps, like all things, it is merely a facet of being. to be joyous or to be a horror. each clown must decide which restricted role suits their individual nature best. which can they contort to with the least amount of pain?

i drop an egg on the floor of my clown house. the laugh track swells. my eyes catch on the knife block, and it hitches, pauses. static. dead air. what do i do? do i crack a joke? or do i, myself, finally crack?

[abyssruler]

fool’s hope

yandere dottore x gn!reader

character death, mentions of blood, dottore being a bastard, yandere

There was once a clone of his who loved you — genuinely, truly loved you.

You’ve seen him at his most terrifying, seen him grin and cackle as he dissected a live person, even seen him in a quiet and solemn state. You once thought you had seen all his expressions and moods he was capable of showing — but it was the way that clone looked at you with such softness you didn’t know he could possess, touch featherlight as it held you gently. And it was then you realized you’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be touched with kindness.

It made your weak heart beat with newly found hope.

It had the most charming laugh and a smile that could make anyone swoon. He’d always been attractive, eyes gravitating towards him even against their will. But he was also cruel and needlessly condescending. The clone was an anomaly, an error to his calculations that he so highly thought of.

You didn’t care about abnormalities and mistakes, didn’t care that this small slice of happiness would soon be ripped away, because for once in your life, the sight of those red eyes brought a sense of fondness instead of fear and hate.

He killed that clone before it was even two weeks old, watching you cry over its corpse with barely hidden interest shining behind those horrid eyes.

“Would you cry for me if I died?” He asked, more out of his own twisted sense of amusement than any true desire to know the answer. His own way of mocking your grief.

The answer you gave was full of vitriol and loathing.

“Never.”

“You contradict yourself.” He laughed, crossing his arms behind his back and peering down your tear-stricken face. “The clone I had just killed could be, in a sense, considered as ‘me’, no? And if I’m not mistaken, those are tears running down your face. Unless you’re actually crying about getting blood on your clothes, then by all means, you’re welcome to watch as I cut open my ‘self’ to study the lapse in its behaviors.”

You had never wanted to hurt anyone as much as you did then.

Silence reigned over the dimly lit room he called a laboratory, the blood had seeped through your clothes but still, you didn’t say a word. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your composure again.

“Pity,” he finally said after it became clear that you won’t provide the reaction he wanted. He gestured a hand to the corpse of his clone, not sparing it the barest of glances, dismissive even to his own self. You wished he cared as little about you as he did his other halves.

You watched the Fatui grunts haul the body away with a detached feeling, not quite processing it yet so aware of every little detail happening in front of you.

At that moment, you had wondered, a foolish little notion that you couldn’t quite snuff out, what it would have been like had it managed to keep its promise of overthrowing the prime and treating you better than he ever would.

“I realize that, given who I am, such words wouldn’t give you much assurance, let alone evoke an emotion one could akin to happiness—not that I would know, being what I am and what I am not allowed to feel. But when I’m with you, I… I feel as if my mind begins to program itself differently from the way it should. It is confusing, and I’ve never been one to deal with confusion in a healthy manner. I should think it’s beyond me to feel sympathy, let alone this anomaly the signals in my brain are creating, but… it is not something I would consider a mistake. A breakthrough, perhaps, in the loosest sense of the word. I understand now why the prime would rather not deal with these emotions—they are much too tiring—but it brings with it a sense of satisfaction I don’t believe I’ve ever felt before. How strange. You make me feel strange.”

Dottore does not make mistakes — or so you once thought.

He once mentioned how each clone is a fragment of his self, everything they are and ever will be has already been achieved by him.

That is why I am the prime, little one, he told you with a grin that raised the hairs on your skin.

But you did wonder, in a fit of impulsivity and a delusion-spurned thought to imagine a better life for yourself, if somehow a minuscule, almost infinitesimal amount, part of him once felt the same way that clone of his did for you somewhere deep within that heartless cavity he calls a chest.

It remains unclear to this day.

But sometimes you wish he did, if only to see those eyes of his look at you with tenderness and longing just once more.

[red-writes]

soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

+

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

+

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest. 

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment. 

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss. 

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream. 

+

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

[takuyakistall]

to yuu.

Note: I wanted to write short HCs for each character as they wrote the letter when I finished reading everyone's thank you messages (◕ᴗ◕✿) ! All of them are very cute and I couldn't help but get some midnight rot so I had to write it down. Here's the link to the post where every message is listed down. Before you start reading, just a heads up, most of these are written in a romantic light. I also recommend reading the letters themselves first before heading here.

Characters: All students + Grim (Excluding Ortho)

Riddle Rosehearts

"Dear friend," Riddle thought that it was the most appropriate way to address you—or at least, that's what his brain is trying to make him think. Ever since overblotting and you helping him snap out of his frenzy, he had difficulty in labeling what exactly you were to him.

Before everything, you were supposed to be just a mere acquaintance to him and yet here you were sending him gifts out of the blue. The general "rule" towards receiving gifts was to give the giver your thanks. Albeit the better option was to thank you personally, he thought that maybe a letter would be better so that he can sort out his thoughts.

Friend. He nodded, proceeding to write down the rest of his message until he realized that this was an opportunity to invite you to tea with him under the pretense of paying you back for the gift. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he continued writing.

Surely, you would accept his invitation, right?

Trey Clover

"Hey you," was that too casual? Too rude sounding? Trey shook his head as he stared at the two words. He hadn't been expecting a gift from you and frankly, he was more than a bit surprised. Though perhaps he hadn't read the "gift" part when he suddenly started writing down questions about what you liked.

He immediately started thinking of how he should pay you back—gifts? He doesn't know your taste that well. Favours? Hmm, he's not too sure about that one. That's why he decided to ask, if there was something you wanted—he'll do his best to find it for you. A tempting offer, right?

It seems like you have to tell him that this wasn't a trade.

Cater Diamond

"Helloooooo," he started off. The extra amount of Os he used was proof that he's trying to take this occurrence casually. Though in the inside he was absolutely beaming. Gifts never fail to put a smile on his face, especially if it came from someone you didn't expect to give you a gift or someone special to him.

In this case, it was probably the latter. He took a small break as he stared at your gift, wondering what he should write. A small smile took over his face as he picked up his phone and snapped a few selfies of him with your gift with a caption before hitting the post button.

"Received a gift from a dear friend, isn't it amazing? ♪"

Deuce Spade

"Friend," Deuce rarely got to experience receiving gifts from friends to one another judging how his past years were spent as a delinquent. To say that he was happy to receive one from you was an understatement, he was over the moon.

He felt the need to mention it to you with a huge grin on his face. He thought of various ways to give you something back as he let out a small hum, he felt like he was having a field day. He signed the message and told himself that today was going to be a great day.

Ace Trappola

"Hey you," Ace was terribly suspicious of the fact that you sent him a gift out of the blue. Were you trying to buy him silence over something you did? Were you trying to convince him to do your homework for you? A lot of questions springed up inside his mind but not once did he think that it was just a genuine, sweet gift with no ulterior motives hidden beneath.

He knew that you would get mad at him if he continued to suspect you so he said that he was kidding in all caps with three dots after that—which didn't help his situation at all.

He felt awkward trying to convey his feelings like this and he ruffled his own hair as he told you that he just needed to tell you something later, when you're face-to-face. That would make it easier for him to speak.

Leona Kingscholar

"Good day," Leona uncharacteristically typed. He felt like he was being held at gunpoint by his past etiquette teachers as he tried to think of an appropriate response. If it were up to him, he would've just slapped a "thank you" on a piece of paper and asked Ruggie to give it to you.

Though he thought that perhaps it was better for him to actually put in effort for once. Even if it seemed like his so called effort seemed like something he just stole from the internet—that was more than enough, right? He'll just put his signature at the bottom and ask Ruggie to give it to you.

Ruggie Bucchi

"Hey you," a big grin took over his face as he wrote down his first few words. He wasn't as experienced as other people when it came to writing down messages of gratitude, he once tried consulting Leona about it—asking how to make it sound decent only to be met with an answer that went like: "Just put whatever."

And that's what he did! Truly, he's thankful for receiving a gift. For a split second, he wondered if he should share it with the people back in his homeland. Though he pushed that thought to the back of his head as he signed the bottom of the paper with his signature. He'll figure that out once he gives the letter to you.

Jack Howl

"Friend," he doesn't know what to say it's embarassing. Even in letters, he still manages to retain that straightforward yet somewhat roundabout personality of his. A tinge of embarrassment seeping through the letter.

He wished he could've just talked to you in person instead but alas, he was stuck here trying to rack his brain for words. In the end, he felt like it was best to keep it simple—the slightly demanding tone at the end was the result of him getting flustered at the thought that it's possible that it could be a date between the two of you.

Azul Ashengrotto

"My dear friend," Azul couldn't count the number of times he had crumpled a piece of paper and threw it into the trashcan only to get a new one—rinse and repeat. Jade and Floyd had to stifle their laughter when they saw how distressed he was over a single message. Though, perhaps that was the fruit of his unconventional feelings towards the giver.

He didn't want to sound too stiff and professional to the point that he sounded like a robot but also, he didn't want to sound too casual to the point that you might find it weird. He had to let out a small sigh as he ruffled his hair, another piece of paper thrown into the trash can before deciding that he should just play it safe and give you a free drink.

Jade Leech

"To my dearest," oh no. His hand slipped and accidentally made his greeting more intimate than it should be, he could go back and change it but—fufu, where's the fun in all of that? His lips tugged up into a smirk as he continued writing, knowing full well that what he was implying would evoke an interesting reaction out of you. But, if that wasn't enough to stir you up a bit then why not put a little more something? He was a prick this way.

He spotted an empty space on one of his shelves in the corner of his eye, glancing at it for a few seconds before an idea popped into his head. A smile that barely showed off his sharp canines, hidden beneath his gloved hand.

"Truly. Would I lie to you?"

Floyd Leech

"Little shrimpy," he grinned. Floyd was in an especially good mood today after receiving such a thoughtful gift from you. He played with his pen in hand, spinning it around as a distant look took over his face when he tried thinking about the reason why you gave him a gift out of nowhere.

Knowing that Floyd pays a little more attention to you than others, he was bound to be curious and he was more than eager to find out—there's always a reason behind someone's actions, after all. He tried expressing his intent to get the answer out of you which came out a little threatening but if you saw the look on his face there's no mistaking that it was an even bigger threat than you initially thought.

Kalim Al-Asim

"Hey love," Kalim was as straightforward as ever. Not a single filter as he wrote down his raw feelings. There was no reason for him to hesitate especially now that he was practically about to shake from pure joy—he was incredibly close to signing the letter and hopping into his magic carpet to give it to you personally but Jamil was there beside him to stop him if he ever does that.

Though that didn't mean that it was gonna stop him from wanting to ask you out on a magic carpet date with him, he'll just have to explain to Jamil when you accept his invitation. That is assuming you'll accept, right?

Jamil Viper

"Dear friend," Kalim practically forced him to write a letter back to you. Jamil wasn't an ingrate, he knew when to show gratitude when it was appropriate but he preferred thanking you in person. He had to settle for this in the meantime, he thought that maybe he'll just invite you to Scarabia to talk about what he could give in return.

He hadn't really expected a gift from you, especially with all the trouble he might've caused you due to his overblot. Though he didn't think it was all that bad. In fact, he felt a little relieved that you didn't hold any grudge against him.

Vil Schoenheit

"My dear," Vil had an unmistakable smirk placed upon his lips. The choice of words he wrote managed to give out a slightly smug vibe as he stared at your gift on his desk. Impressed by your ability for finding him a suitable gift, he decided to give you a little bit in return.

His smirk slowly turned into a gentle smile as he imagined your face probably tearing up at the thought of him giving you a signed card, he couldn't help but put an offhanded comment near the end. But it was quickly followed up with a single bit of rare praise from him.

Rook Hunt

"Hey love," Rook was always one to act dramatically whenever he had the chance and even in letters, he managed to sound dramatic. As soon as he realized that you had sent him a gift he started gushing about how wonderful it was and how inspiration was raining down on him like tiny droplets.

What's a better way to let his raw emotions out than poetry? That's right, this man wrote you a poem expressing how he feels because of your gift. He almost forgot to say his gratitude because he got carried away but thankfully, Epel pointed it out to him before he could give it to you.

Epel Felmier

"Dear friend," he rarely got any gifts from anyone outside his relatives so when he saw you give him a gift, he was excited to say the least. There's always a certain joy you can evoke in a person when you give them a gift it was almost euphoric for some. He thought that it was sweet of you to give him a gift and decided to give one back with a small message.

Friend. For some reason, it felt a bit off addressing you as that but he quickly shook his head and shot down that thought. As for his gift, he prepared a little something he made himself. Hehe, he's quite proud of it too!

Idia Shroud

"@YOU" it was interesting how Idia didn't bother changing to formal speech when he decided to give you a thank you message for your gift. He's typing the same way he would to his friend, namely "Crimson Muscle", but perhaps that was because he didn't know of any other way to talk to you without sounding unnatural or weird.

People would normally not even think about giving him something and yet you gave him one. He couldn't help but smile a bit when he said how you were a bit of an oddball—he came up with various nicknames for you inside his head. Most of them being different words for the term "weirdo". Yet they always had a hint of affection whenever he would think of it.

Malleus Draconia

"Dearest," Malleus started off. It was rare that he received gifts from people outside his family or nobles back in the Valley since a lot of people found him intimidating—terrifying for some, even. He was glad that you felt comfortable enough around him to show simple gestures such as these. Upon receiving your gift, Lilia noticed how it came from you and urged Malleus to write his thank you message differently from how he usually writes it.

Did you perhaps know of the legends surrounding the Thorn Witch...? If so, then maybe he could sneak in a little joke. The gift of beauty and the gift of song—ah, nevermind. He pursed his lips slightly, he'll just handpick a gift for you himself. A small gargoyle statue, maybe. Or he could ask the other members of Diasomnia to help him.

Lilia Vanrouge

"My dear," his lips formed a small smirk. Lilia appreciated all surprises, big or small. Though, in particular, something about your surprise gift made him more excited about it than usual. Was that just his old age getting to him or was it something else? He couldn't be bothered to think about it that much.

As a form of gratitude, he weighed his options. It was either giving you a gift back or letting you ask a favour of him. He thought the latter would be more acceptable until an idea popped into his head as his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. He knew you didn't know what it exactly meant but he gave you his signature nonetheless—he'll leave you to figure out.

Silver

"Hey you," Lilia taught Silver that it was common courtesy to show gratitude when someone gives him a gift. He tried thinking of countless ways to say thank you with his old man bugging him to ask you out on a date instead in the background. In the end, he paid Lilia no attention and instead went with the standard short message and giving a gift back.

He urged himself not to fall asleep as he typed out his message even though he already let out a yawn without him noticing. He glanced at the screen blankly, wondering if he forgot to add anything until he slowly felt himself snoozing off. Head resting on the keyboard and typing out whatnot. When Lilia arrived at the scene, he didn't bother waking him up and just sent the message as it is.

Silver was so embarassed the next day and refused to talk to Lilia temporarily.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human," he didn't even try addressing you as anything else other than that even in letters. When he found a gift lying by his room, he was a tad suspicious but loosened up when he read the tag attached to it. As stated, it came from you and the gift was meant for Malleus—wait, what. Sebek scrunched up his face as his eyes scanned the words printed on it.

"To Sebek Zigvolt" This was a mistake, right? Sebek was a bit flushed but quickly shook it off by saying how it was probably a subterfuge or whatever that was. There was no way it was for actually for him, right? Surely, you must've sent this in hopes of hearing more about the great Malleus Draconia. Right?

That is... Wonderful!

Grim

"Dear underling," it was cute how he made an effort to write you a letter despite being in the same dorm wherein he could just talk to you directly. But perhaps he was so touched to the extent that he wanted to do this—did you give him tuna? He struggled thanking you properly and ended up boasting about how he was going to be the greatest sorcerer.

Even though he called you underling at first, he couldn't help but soften up a bit. That didn't sit right with him somehow, he didn't know why. He let out a groan as he racked his head for a more appropriate word until-!

Partner... Sounds about right.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: Absence

(Author’s Note:  I usually steer clear of angst, but this sort of just happened.  Y’all are going to hate me after this.  Oh whaaale)

warnings: some angst, Bad Batch episode 1 spoilers.

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

   You released a sigh into the air, the sound breaking the lonely silence that had settled since you decided to lay down for a while.  You half-expected to hear some sort of response- a mumble from Tech, a laugh from Wrecker, chatter from Omega, or a sigh from Hunter- but the room fell into stillness once more.

   As you lay on your side, arms encircling a familiar pillow, you gazed at the opposing wall.  This was the first moment you had to yourself since the events that transpired on Kamino.  You’d been busy at the front of the ship assisting the others or simply surrounding yourself with them to keep certain feelings at bay.

   But just for a little while, you finally decided to let yourself have the time to process and to just feel.  Without the company of the others to keep you occupied, Crosshair’s absence was more jarring.  It wasn’t something you’d been able to ignore in the first place, of course.  Even in a room full of your squad, you found yourself searching for him or expecting him to be hovering nearby only to remember that wouldn’t be the case.

   Another sigh rose into the air, and you shifted to lay on your other side facing the wall of the bunk.  The pillow still held stale traces of his scent, and you hungrily breathed in what was left and hoped with each inhale that it wouldn’t fade.  You thought back to the last time you were near him before things went from bad to worse.

   Crosshair placed himself on the bench, rubbing his head in frustration.  You watched him with worry.  He hadn’t been himself since this Order 66 was given.  You’d seen him at odds with Hunter and growing increasingly agitated as time went by.

   Omega slid onto the bench beside him, her eyes mirroring your concern.  Although somehow, her look was more sympathetic, as if she knew what was happening to him.  She rested a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly.  You decided to remain at a small distance for another moment before going over to talk to him.

   Moments later, a shock trooper approached the cell.  “CT-9904, you’re coming with us.”

   Your eyes widened as the cell shield went down.  Hunter quickly placed himself in front of the sharpshooter in protest.  “Oh, no, no, no,” he said, holding his hands up.  “We stay together.”

   The trooper wasted no time in hitting Hunter in the stomach with the butt of his blaster, evoking a grunt as the sergeant crumbled to his knees.

   “Hey!” you shouted, darting forward.  “Cut it out!  No one is leaving this cell alone.  If he goes,” you gestured to Crosshair.  “I go.”

   “CT-9904 was summoned, not you.  Now stand down!”  The trooper raised his blaster to strike you this time, and you readied yourself to fight back when you felt a firm hand grasp your wrist.

   You looked to see Hunter standing to his feet, giving you a warning look.  For a moment, you thought that maybe it would be better to stand down and not cause more trouble, so you relaxed your shoulders.  However, that changed the second Crosshair stood from the bench and started walking toward the troopers without so much of a glance or word to any of his comrades.

   “Wait!  No, I can’t just stand here and-” you caught Hunter off-guard and tore your arm free to hurry after Crosshair.  “What are you doing?”

   “I’ve been summoned, _________.  Good soldiers follow orders.”

   “But Cross,” you murmured, hot tears spilling down your cheeks as you reached for his gloved hand.  “I’m scared.  Don’t leave.”

   At the use of his nickname, his face changed.  The bridge of his nose scrunched slightly in confusion before his eyes softened and replaced the challenging gaze with a tender regard that he usually saved for you.  It was like whatever was clouding his mind was shaken away for a moment.

   “I don’t have much of a choice,” he told you, shooting a wary glance at the troopers that surprisingly were paused at the entrance to the cell.  Then, his expression hardened once more as he released your hand and walked into their custody.

   “No!  Crosshair, wait!  You lunged forward, but a large hand grabbed your shoulder.  “Wrecker, let me go!”

   “__________,” he said, his voice low and broken at your distress.  “It’s not gonna’ change anything.”  As Crosshair was led away, you jabbed a finger at the guards.  

   “He’s not their guinea pig!  You hear me?”

   They were out of sight, door sliding shut behind them, and you were left standing there breathing heavily.  You slammed a fist against the wall and turned to see the others watching with pained expressions.  Omega still covered her mouth with her hands in shock.

   “I’m sorry,” you told them, ducking your head.  “Sorry to make a scene.  I didn’t mean to make things worse, but...”

   “No,” Hunter said.  “I understand.  We…” he gestured to the rest of the group.  “ we understand.  We just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

   Things quieted down after that.  You placed yourself on the bench where Crosshair had previously been seated and waited.

   You rolled onto your back, staring at the top of the bunk as the memory came to a conclusion in your mind.  That was the last time you’d seen the real Crosshair.  The one that you’d seen in the hangar on Kamino was not your love.  Your teary eyes met his cold ones, and though he didn’t fire at you, you didn’t see much of a reaction in his expression.

   A knock on the door caused you to stir again.  You turned your head to call whoever was at the door inside the quarters.  The door slid open to reveal a form much shorter than you expected.  

    “_________?”

   “Omega,” you said, putting on a soft smile to let her know she was welcome.  “Do you need something?”

   She gazed at you sympathetically, returning your smile kindly.  “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

    “I’m alright,” you replied.  “I just…”

   She approached the bunk, eyeing the small signs of Crosshair all around including the pillow in your arms.  “You miss him.”

   You tucked your nose back into the pillow to breathe in his scent once more.  It was nearly gone.  Your eyes watered a little at the realization.  “Yeah, I guess I do.”

   She rested a hand on your shoulder, much like she’d done to him in the prison cell at Kamino.  “The Crosshair you know is in there somewhere.  It’s that chip.  We’re going to get him back.”

   You looked to her as her smile grew, looking less concerned and more hopeful.  It was contagious because you were starting to feel that glimmer of hope in your chest and smile in return.  “I’m sure you’re right.”

   “In the meantime, I know it’s hard.”

   You hummed in agreement, a new memory coming to mind.  Your smile turned into a chuckle, earning an intrigued look from Omega.  “I was just thinking about this one time.  Before we got together, Crosshair and I went to a market for a supply run…”

   “Oh hey, that place looks like it’s got some decent stuff,” you said.  Crosshair’s eyes followed your gesturing hand to a fruit stand, the toothpick between his lips twirling idly.  He didn’t give a verbal response, only following you as you veered off the main path to approach.  An elderly woman with a large sun hat smiled as you paused to get a good look at everything.

    “Well hello there,” she greeted you.  “Can I help you with anything?”

   “Hello!  And yes, could I get a dozen of these?”  you gestured to the baskets of fruit.  “And a dozen of those?”

   “Most certainly, dear,” she nodded.  As she bagged up the product, you turned to see Crosshair hovering less than a foot behind you.  He surveyed your surroundings with those keen eyes of his before he noticed you looking at him.

   “What?”

   “Nothing.”  You grinned.  “See anything?  Any separatist droids perhaps?”

   He plucked the toothpick from his mouth to reply.  “Very amusing, ________.  I haven’t seen anything except for some shady pirate staring at you.”

   “Really?”  your grin quickly faded into a grimace as your eyes flickered to the side.  “Where?”

   “Behind me.”  Crosshair returned the toothpick to the spot between his teeth.  “I’m blocking you from his view.”

   “Oh.”  You straightened up.  “Thanks.”

   “Here you are,” the elderly woman stated, handing you one bag of fruit and Crosshair the other. You handed her the credits. “I also just wanted to say what an adorable couple you two make!”  She plucked a single flower from a nearby bouquet and handed it to Crosshair.  “For the young lady!”

   You wanted to duck your head in embarrassment while Crosshair rolled his eyes. Still, to your surprise he didn’t even bother to correct her.  He merely accepted the flower in silence and turned to you, his hand hovering for a moment before he settled on tucking the flower behind your ear. 

   “Bye!” You waved at the lady as the two of you walked away.

    “...Later on, I caught him looking at me when I had the flower tucked behind my ear.  I knew then that he had feelings for me, just like I did for him.”

   “So he’s always been a little...difficult?” Omega ventured.

   You laughed.  “Oh yes, but it was always an act.  Sometimes, he made it easy to see past that to the big heart underneath.”  You scooted off the bunk, releasing your hold on the pillow so it fell back in its spot, and proceeded to smooth out the blanket.  “Thank you, Omega.”

   She looked confused.  “  For what?”

   “The talk.  It really helped.”

   “Oh, yeah, no problem.”  She smiled.  “I’ve come to think of the squad as family, and...I don’t like to see my family hurting.”

   “I think of this squad as family too,” you agreed.  “ And I’m glad you’re a part of it, kid.  Let’s see if Tech needs anything up front.”

   The two of you became lost in chatter as you headed for the doorway.  You paused to take one final look at the empty quarters and at Crosshair’s bunk that you’d left as neat as he had.  A genuine smile spread across your face as you turned off the light and let the door close behind you.

[neverendingtrove]

A long chaotic post about Yuzuru Hanyu

I accidentally wound up watching the figure skating European Championships this year and then I realized there was one more big competition (Four Continents Championship) and then the Olympics. Well, of course I was interested to see who was going to get Olympic gold for the multiple disciplines in figure skating. And like this, I ended up finding out about Yuzuru Hanyu.

It was weird because I had heard of Yuzuru Hanyu before, but never made the connection that this willow boy (well, 27yo man athlete and artist) was him. Imagine my surprise when I did a quick research on him and found out about his passion for the sport, the heart and soul he pours into every performance, the way he constantly challenges himself to become better and better - he does not care that much about winning, he cares about achieving his own goals in the sport - and that's something to be admired. Besides his dedication to figure skating, he also seems to be an extremely polite, generous and genuine human being. The way he talks to other people, the respect he shows to others on and off camera, it's awe-inspiring; there are not many people like that anymore.

I decided that before the Olympics, I would watch all his programs in various competitions (from his first senior season back in 2010 until now, 12 years later). I am impressed by how much he has evolved as an athlete in these years and am much more so impressed as I realize Yuzuru chose to stay true to himself in this somewhat unfair judging system of figure skating competitions.

As I watched Yuzuru's programs, I was taken by him, especially by several gala performances in more recent years. I started rooting for him so deeply than when he came on the ice in the Men Single's Skate Short Program at the 2022 Olympics, I was so nervous for him. I was mesmerized by him, almost forgot about that first mistake - a hole in the ice. There was still hope for him in the Free Skate, and you know what? I hoped with him! I had tears in my eyes as I waited for him to jump the 4A. It may not have been ratified, but it was close enough, Yuzuru's best 4A to this day, and that's something to be proud of. Remember, injured ankle, painkillers and he still did that. Yes, a second mistake followed, but so what? Yuzuru Hanyu made history once more and proved that he's the GOAT of figure skating. My heart broke when I read a translation of one of Yuzuru's interviews: "I don't know what I did to offend the ice". Considering how reverently he treats the ice, I broke for him. This man... I can't imagine the disappointment he must have felt right after. But he wanted to know that he helped people, that he did something that people who watched him enjoyed and when he saw the positive response, he was overjoyed. I don't know how one cannot get inspired by someone like Yuzuru Hanyu, who doesn't take, only gives.

Today was the EX Gala of the Beijing 2022 Olympics. Yuzuru skated to Haru yo, Koi, a beautiful piece of music. His skate brought once more tears to my eyes, I cried from the emotion he evoked, the moment his hydroblade went so low that he kissed the ice... no one can send emotion to the public like Yuzuru Hanyu does. And after this emotional performance, what does he do? Smile, laugh, fool around with BDD, the mascot, enjoys every moment he can on Olympic ice.

And what happens off stage? Before getting for the last time in 2022 on Olympic ice, he skates his heart out on a huge number of old programs ON AN INJURED ANKLE because he wants to show those watching the missing parts of various programs that he did not get to properly show off in previous settings. So he created a medley of previously missing pieces.

There are so many other kind and exceptional things he did behind the scenes, but that'd take too long to talk about. This was a rant as I tried to illustrate the reason why I'm so inspired by Yuzuru Hanyu.

I hope he now gets the rest and healing time he needs because I think we haven't seen the last of Yuzuru Hanyu. I am looking forward to seeing what else he has in store for the future.

[queers-gambit]

I've just read the other two stories, similar to cherry blossoms and OMG. I know I've already complimented you on that one, but boy did I read them in the wrong order because I can't stop crying. I'm gonna shower you in praises because you wrote three ABSOLUTELY STUNNING pieces. The thought that you put behind every single one, every word and action made me feel as if I'm reading a novel written by one of the Brontë sisters. I'm only comparing you to them, by holding you in very high regards, because Wuthering Heights is the only book that made me feel actually heartbroken -something that I've experienced again with your stories.

As a reader I can't help but feel as if I've lived those tales in another lifetime, your beautiful words shaping the stories in my mind as mere memories, making me feel a desperate longing for someone, something, somewhere that never actually happened.

I'm so shocked and stunned and sad but also happy that I find it hard to put into words just how much I've loved them. I hope you know how ridiculously gifted and talented you are, how you create and destroy worlds so effortlessly. All I can do is say thank you for sharing your work, your talent with us on this app. Thank you!!❤️❤️

I know how awful this is but I'm still crying and it's 1 am, so sorry for dumping this load of emotion on you. Didn't know where else to show my gratitude and appreciation❤️

Also, I'm gonna hug you now.🫂

i saved this one for last because i'm in awe. and i have genuine tears in my eyes, because wow. don't think i'm a pussy, but i'm honestly just a little shocked that you're complimenting me like this.

so, thank you. i'm honestly just tongue tied right now and it's a wee bit hard to see what i'm typing because i'm emotional. you comparing me to actual, legendary authors is just - wow. like, really, wow.

i don't think i deserve it but after reading ALL of these supportive messages, i don't know, maybe i'll have to find a little more confidence in myself. but this message? this message right here? i might have to, like, print out and hang on a bulletin board somewhere so i can look back on it because i'm THAT moved and touched by this. i want to feel what i felt reading this everyday.

i don't think you really realize how MUCH this means to me.

so, just - just wow. thank YOU so fucking much for sending this, i'm still just shocked and in total awe. all i can really say is thank you, again, because it's messages like these that genuinely keep me going. not just on Tumblr, but elsewhere.

no, no, no, poppet, you're not dumping anything on me - i love reading your messages. your responses. seeing the emotion i've evoked with a few silly little strokes of my keyboard. like i'm actually crying a little harder now because i'm still so fucking grateful and keep rereading your message. i just love talking to you lot honestly! and please, showing the author your appreciation and gratitude is the EXACT place to "dump" your feelings.

because i live for it, okay?

just wow.

i really hope i can continue to wow you. and i hope i can continue to do justice to this art form we call penmanship.

every single ounce of love, appreciation, and gratitude i have is yours, my dove. and please, i don't know what else to say but thank you so much. i'm still emotional but this is so validating. so, thank you. thank you so very much. i love you 🖤

[amazingmsme]

Hot Boy Summer

AN: Here’s my fic for the @ticklesofcolor fic exchange! I wrote for @calmturquoise & I had a blast writing this fic for you! So sorry for the delay, I just finished up with my associates & I had to write 2 final papers. I hope you’re okay that I was liberal with your prompt, since I went with Zuko & Sokka it would kind of be hard for him to use his bending to tickle someone, but I still tried to incorporate it! I also completely threw in the towel with this title. I hope you enjoy it! Sokka & Zuko just play off of each other so well.

Zuko was hot. Like strictly temperature wise Sokka told himself. But firebending proved to be quite useful to him. When they were camping, he was the warmest to sit next to. Not to mention, he made great fires for roasting weenies and marshmallows. But Sokka's favorite thing about it was that it meant he was pretty easy to tick off, which made for good fun.

He would never actually get too angry, so he assumed he didn't actually mind it all that much. And the truth was, he didn't. Zuko never really had friends of his own, and the playful teasing, if annoying, was actually fun. The others picked up on the habits too. It ended up with Toph claiming Zuko as her body pillow to hug against while she slept.

"Hey, can you hold this?" Without waiting for an answer, Sokka shoved a wet clay bowl in Zuko's warm hands.

"Wha- uh- sure," he said, perplexed but not setting it down. Sokka's cheeks were puffed out like a frog from trying to contain his laughter. Zuko realized what he was trying to do and huffed to keep himself from chuckling along. "Hell no, go find a kiln," he said, shoving it back in Sokka's hands.

As annoying as it was, it made Zuko feel... accepted. Like he was actually a part of the group instead of the outcast he was so used to being. He thought that they would all hate him: fearing his flame and mistrusting of everything he did. But that wasn't the case. And it felt good. He felt like, maybe, he could return the playful teasing. Toph was surprisingly easy to embarrass when he mentioned how "hot" she must thing he is from cuddling him all the time. Coincidentally, an embarrassed Toph and an angry Toph we're pretty much one in the same, and a sharp rock had launched him several feet in the air.

Katara could see right through his attempts at teasing, at being friendly, but she was still not amused by him. Aang was too happy all the time to get a rise out of him, though it was still fun to mess with the young avatar. Sokka was the most fun however. He had a sense of humor, and even though Zuko's wasn't what you'd consider "good" the other boy could still recognize what was meant to be a joke or a tease and deliver one right back. He was dramatic, and therefore, very easy to evoke a reaction.

He couldn't help but notice how the rest of them were very physical. Like, they'd constantly be touching each other. At first he found it a little unsettling, but they had done a pretty good job of making him get used to it. And eventually, he began reaching out to them.

So when Sokka grabbed his wrist and squeezed a pressure point to make a flame shoot out to toast a mallow. He snatched his hand back and shakes a finger in his face to scold him. "Alright I've had just about enough of you using me as your personal lighter!" he admonished, the smirk on his face revealing his amusement. Sokka's smirk was even wider. More smug and full of pride.

"Why? It's not like you'll do anything," he taunted, crossing his arms over his chest. Zuko glared at him. He was right, he'd probably just let it slide. Except he'd watched how they all play with each other and wanted them to know he could be fun like that too. He always hesitated to reach out, but he wanted to change. So they were both a little shocked when he shoved Sokka to the ground and sat on his legs, just above the knee. He blinked a few times then chuckled. "Nice try flambo, but it'll take more than just sitting on me to teach me a lesson," he sassed.

"I know," he said, looking down at him. He'd seen the others tickle Sokka to tears when he won't knock it off with the lame jokes, so he knew this method would be affective. Except, he didn't really know where to start. He'd never been in many tickle fights with his sister, and when he did he usually didn't win. But it had been years since he'd engaged with someone like this. But he'd watched enough, he was sure he could figure it out!

He gave a tentative poke to his belly, eliciting a quick squeak. Sokka's eyes widen and a nervous grin breaks out as he shook his head. Zuko placed a few more pokes to his stomach and sides before wiggling his fingers over the skin. Sokka was squirming and giggling lightly which... wasn't right. He'd seen the others get him, he should be howling with laughter. So why wasn't he?

"W-wohow you're really bahad at this," Sokka spoke fairly easily. Zuko huffed and shoved him against the ground and clambered away to stand. Sokka sighed and reached up, snatching his wrist. "Hey don't go, I was just teasing."

Zuko glared at the ground, lower lip jutting out slightly in a mix between a scowl and a pout. "Why not? It's true." When he didn't move to sit back down, Sokka yanked him to the ground, none too gently he might add.

"Ow! You didn't have to do that you know!" he complained, leaning to the side so he could rub his sore butt. Thankfully the grass cushioned his fall, but unexpectedly crashing down on your tailbone was never fun.

He shrugged. "I know, but it was the easiest way to make sure you wouldn't leave." He offered a softer, more genuine smile. "Besides, it's not your fault you don't know how. I doubt you had much time for goofing off like that," he said, his voice sympathetic. Zuko nodded shyly.

"Yeah, once mom was gone, things really picked up. And they were never easy before, but everything just got a lot more intense after that," he admitted. After keeping things bottled up all his life, it felt good to get it off his chest. Not all at once, but slowly; small things, like now.

Sokka seemed to mull something over in his head before deciding, "I can teach you if you want." Zuko blinked in surprise.

"Really?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I mean, I can't leave you all defenseless like that," he teased with a poke to his side. His lip twitched in a smile and he jerked away.

"Hey I can defend myself just fine! But um, who's our first target?" he asked slightly confused, staring out at the others spread around their small camp. "'Cause I think Aang'll be our best bet-" he rambled on, unaware of how Sokka was creeping up from behind.

"You are!" Zuko barely had time to process what he said before a pair of arms wrapped around him and pulled him back against Sokka's chest. He gasped as realization dawned on him and he tried to pry himself free.

"What? Why me? I-I can't learn like this!" he yelped. His friend only laughed.

"You will. You gotta know what different techniques feel like so you can get the best reactions. You gotta try different things 'cause certain things work better on some people," he explained. The way he was so casual about it just embarrassed Zuko even more.

"I appreciate the sentiment but I'm really more of a hands on kind of learner," he said as he squirmed. Sokka practically lit up.

"Then this is perfect! See? Hands-" he held them up for him to see before immediately diving for his stomach. "On!" Zuko practically screamed.

"Nohoho! Thihihis ihisn't fair!" he squealed through his laughter.

"What do you mean, of course it is! I'm giving you a lesson in tickling 101!" he chirped happily, kneading at his sides. Zuko cackled and doubled over, hands weakly prying at his wrists.

"Nohohot ohon mehehe!" he protested.

"Like I said, in order to tickle someone, you gotta know what different techniques feel like. There's light skittering," he said, demonstrating by spidering his fingers over his ribs. His laughter turned breathy and giggly, the squirming dying down as it became slightly more bearable. "Also quick squeezes," he said as he rapidly squeezed down his sides, making him squeal and twist back and forth. "Oh, and poking! But you seem to have that one down," he said, delivering quick pokes all over his torso.

"Ohohokahay I gehehet ihit! Stohop!" he cried out. Sokka shook his head.

"Not yet, the lesson's not over!" Suddenly, his hands shot down to squeeze his thighs. Zuko shrieked and kicked out, feet scrambling in the grass. "There's squeezing, oh! And kneading!" he said, switching tactics and demonstrating the new technique on his stomach. His laughter deepened as he desperately tried to squirm away, sucking in his belly and leaning away from the touch. This only succeeded in him pressing against Sokka even more, trapping him further in his hold.

"I can't believe I almost forgot one of the most important steps," Sokka said, managing to bring one arm up to smack himself on the forehead for being such an idiot.

Zuko didn't want to know what he meant by that, but then again, he kind of did. Curiosity killed the cat. "W-whahahat's thahat?" he asked. Now that the other boy had brought it up, he simply had to know.

"Teasing of course!" he exclaimed. Oh no, he really shouldn't have asked. "Sokka nohoho dohon't!"

"Why?" he asked, cocking his head. "Are you too ticklish to handle it?" he asked, raising the pitch of his voice in a mocking tone. For some reason, that made the sensations even stronger and all the more maddening.

"Shuhuhut up mahahan!" he squealed, doubling over and pushing at his tickling hands. "You're really not in a position to be making demands," he said smugly. Zuko managed to growl through his laughter. Sokka chuckled at the noise.

"I can't believe it: even when you're giggling up a storm you still try to appear all broody and grouchy!" he taunted. His cheeks turned pink upon hearing this and he tried to hide his face in his hands.

"Sohohokka ohohokay! I gehet it nohohow!" he pleaded.

"Alright, last lesson. You know what raspberries are, right?" he asked. Zuko could remember how his mother would play with him when he was younger, sometimes blowing raspberries on his pudgy tummy or neck. His eyes widen and he shook his head.

"Don't you dahahare!" he tried to scold.

"Oh, I dare," Sokka said with a sly smirk, placing his lips on the nape of his neck and blew hard. A loud, wet fart noise filled the air along with Zuko's wild cackles. He arched his back as much as he could, squirming and thrashing in his hold. He managed to twist away and shoved Sokka's face back with a little more force than necessary.

Sokka's shit eating grin remained plastered on his face. "You're the worst," he spat out between panting breaths. He closed his eyes and shrugged, clearly pleased with himself.

"You're welcome." Zuko's blush burned brighter and he playfully punched his shoulder. "I didn't say thank you!"

"Yeah but you were thinking it," he teased further. "If you still suck at tickling then there's just no hope for you," he said, patting his back consolingly. A rare glint of mischief shined in Zuko's eyes.

"I think it's coming back to me... Only one way to find out." Before Sokka could react, he slammed into him with his shoulder, knocking him on his back. He wasted no time pinning him.

Sokka stated up at him in shock, already giggling with nerves. "C-can't we talk about this?"

Zuko smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Nope."

[cryptiql]

untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.

[sevenyearslumber]

I Love Gravity Falls

So a few weeks ago I finished Gravity Falls for the first time and I really want to compile some of my thoughts in a post, both to express my love for the show and to practice/get back into writing. I’ve spent a considerable amount of time recently reflecting on what I like about the series, rewatching certain scenes, and after countless nights of spending probably too much time in the shower just thinking about this Disney Cartoon that’s nearly a decade old, I came to some startling realizations. One; I was ten years old when this show first came out and I’m now twenty (terrifying), but even more startling; Gravity Falls has probably been the most fun I’ve had watching something in a very long time. 

Just to clarify, it’s not that my surprise at how much I enjoyed Gravity Falls stems from going into the show with low expectations, but rather, the complete opposite. I knew well before beginning the first episode that Gravity Falls had a super passionate following and was held in the utmost regard by its fans. So if anything, when I started S1Ep1 Tourist Trapped my expectations were through the roof. And much to my delight, as I got further and further into the series, each and every one of my expectations were surpassed. 

From start to finish Gravity Falls is an emotional rollercoaster in the best possible way. One minute I’m crying from laughter at the show’s ridiculous sense of humor, and the next I’m on the verge of tears at how real some of the characters’ struggles are. The series was able to evoke such a wide range of feelings from me, and I think that’s one of Gravity Falls’ biggest strengths. Whether you’re watching because you’re looking for a laugh, invested in the show’s various mysteries, or just wanting a really unique and heartfelt story, there’s something here for you.   

Speaking of Gravity Falls’ biggest strengths, I feel it would be amiss to praise the show without talking in depth about its characters. Of course at the center of it all we have the Pines family, specifically Dipper, Mabel, and Stan, all of who I found myself immediately fond of from the get-go. I really love how full of personality each of the main Pines are, and can appreciate how much they’re all fleshed out over the course of the two seasons. They genuinely feel at times like real people, each with their own interests, beliefs, and behaviors.

As for other supporting characters of Gravity Falls, my endearment for them isn’t so straightforward. I no doubt like characters such as Soos and Wendy, but I also feel that I don’t fully realize how much I love certain characters until specific moments. For instance there are episodes such as Blendin’s Game, where I absolutely adore Soos and am near bawling my eyes out over him. Conversely, there are other episodes such as The Love God and Roadside Attraction, where Soos kind of just slips into the background and I don’t think twice of it. However, I wouldn’t at all consider this an inherent knock against the show, and I understand that not all characters are gonna receive the same amount of focus. Overall I would say the characters as a whole are no doubt likable and charming in their own ways, but it’s the Pines family that really made Gravity Falls special to me. 

On another interesting note, as much as I love all of the colorful personalities Gravity Falls has to offer, I don’t think I would consider most of the characters in the show all that complex. None of the cast really undergoes any drastic arcs, nor do we know much about the backgrounds of these characters other than what we personally see. Instead, the characters of Gravity Falls gain a lot of their depth from their relationships with others. One of my absolute favorite aspects of the series is Dipper and Mabel’s sibling dynamic. It’s somehow both unbelievably adorable and incredibly realistic. They may bicker, fight, and won’t always see eye to eye, but they’re always there for each other. As someone who grew up having a very close relationship with my own sister, there were countless moments that really resonated with me. I just love the themes of family that the show explored and thought they were so beautifully executed. 

My time with Gravity Falls was an amazing experience that brought me more joy than I can possibly explain. I’m so glad I watched this show and I’m sure it’ll still be occupying my thoughts for many years to come. 

[crab-in-a-pocket]

reserved farmer headcanons + meeting the bachelors for the first time!

wanted to make some generally reserved farmer headcanons to kick off this blog and bc i see a lot of very friendly farmers out there and i... am not one of them LMAO

additionally, there's reference to a supposed volatile relationship with a (former?) loved one (projection time!)

also i forgot to open my askbox bc idk how to tumblr ?? i think it's open now (i hope).

tw: drinking and alcoholism, references to past trauma, one Bad Word (sh^t!)

when you first meet everyone, it's a quiet greeting and maybe a witty remark, but you don't stay for any chit-chat

close-lipped smiles are your signature move, along with the Man Nod whenever you run into someone

you are, of course, a nice and courteous person but you don't feel the need to say hello to everyone every damn time you pass by them because, really, you're too busy rushing to Pierre's for some seeds or lugging around foraged beach stuff

okay, maybe some of them think you're a little cold and an introvert who has... problems

but you're not! you are a strong and emotionally stable farmer who gets Shit Done and prefers to observe over participate and think over talk!

mayor lewis is extremely puzzled and almost mistakes you for someone else-- it's been over a decade and people change too much, too soon. he makes a remark about a wishing well your grandfather had built long ago (remember the well? how you fell in it that one time?) and you nod along politely (i didn't fall, i climbed in because i desperately needed my wish to come true)

it's nice to meet people who aren't as temperemental as the tides. maybe, for once, you could have a proper relationship with someone.

alex

easily the most annoying and extroverted person in town what with his obsession with sports and loud, brash personality but you two get along fabulously because you had that same passion for gridball in college before you were too busy being a corporate slave

he's a little surprised that you sit next to him at the saloon but he goes along easily and the conversation flows between the two of you easily, ranging from future plans (thinking of going pro... think i'll make it?) to the weather without sounding like you're making fake smalltalk (i wanted to play pro, too, and here i am now. if you really want it, you'll have to leave this all behind)

there's something genuine about him that's intriguing and it leaves you wanting to find out and see what the real alex is like inside because you can see through that wall he's made

and there's something enigmatic about you, who is reserved and quiet and seems to be a simple open book, when in fact, you are a very attractive onion with many, many layers

sam

you think he's immature. a wildchild, a manchild, a wildmanchild, really. sam, on the other hand, is drawn in by your calmness and how in-control you appear to be-- when you offer to play a game of pool when sebastian doesn't show up, he's delighted at the opportunity to know you better

okay, so he is immature and a wildmanchild but there is a softness in him that surprises you every time he shows it-- which is frequently around you

he has a soft smile to counteract his proud one and he's so in awe of how you get so much stuff done every day (i don't know how you do it, that's gotta be tough), every week, and every month (you'd like the responsibility, i think. to me, it's one big project i need to finish)

he has instant crush on you because you're so cool even though your line of profession really doesn't evoke much awe. i mean, you're  attractive, you are so in control of your life, and you have a really cute smile whenever he compliments you-- how could he not?

shane

bit bold of you to sit next to him at the saloon because every knows he's can be a real asshole, but he glances at you with a hint of awe and more than a hint of annoyance. you elect to ignore this and choose to order a whisky on the rocks (if you don't drink, call it apple juice)

whisky: shane's a touch impressed because you look like a lightweight. well, it's nice that someone can hold their liquor. he makes a remark about it (planning on getting drunk, huh?) and you raise a brow at him, looking a little haughty and tell him that it's your drink for the week. he's annoyed at your remark and starts an argument that surprisingly, settles down into a civil conversation

apple juice: he snorts at that and makes a remark about meeting penny for your lessons the next day. you play along and sip at your drink, making witty remarks (thank yoba for hangovers. it's the non-drinker's edge, really. just like not having liver failure). he's not sure if he should be annoyed or impressed at your cool-as-a-cucumber personality, not sure if it's too big city or too closed-off

you offer to buy him a pizza if you can take a away his beer-- at any rate, he looks like he'll end up with liver failure the way he's going. shane aquiesces and devours the entire pizza. your conversation is slow and punctuated with his loud chewing but you're pleasantly suprised that he's quite smart and well-read about whatever you're interested in

the fourth time you sit next to him, he turns down your pizza and doesn't say a word. neither do you and it's almost like it's back to square one until you realize that he hasn't made a single salty remark about anything. you decide to try again the day after tomorrow-- nothing comes too quickly to people like you and shane.

sebastian

it was the necklace you wore that caught his eye. a shining teardrop stone hanging off a gleaming silver chain. he had spoken before he could stop himself and watched as you smiled and told him he was right-- it is supposed to be a Yeti's tear.

you're pleased to meet someone who is also a homebody and a touch more reserved than a lot of other people in town. he's easy to get along with (oh, you're kidding, you really have the signed edition?) and he's got pretty good taste when it comes to literature-- after all, who can refuse a good sci-fi book? (of course i do, i'm dedicated fan)

oddly enough, your conversation is quick and eager and not all reserved. instead of the companionable silence everyone assumes you two to have, you two nearly talk over each other because you finally have someone to complain to about everyone's over-friendliness and he finally has someone who understands what it's like to be trapped in a small world

you tease him about the corporate rat race and he fires back at you about being a part of it. you like sebastian and he likes you-- it's as simple as that.

elliot

he had heard of you through leah who had heard of you through emily who had heard of you through gus who had heard of you from lewis. it was a long grapevine and he's not sure how much of the truth was preserved and it's almost a relief to meet you because, to be frank, he's tired of being the town's newcomer.

first-- you're not peppy and overly cheerful at all. second, you are definitely not hot-tempered. and third, there's something so fascinating about you, something hidden under your calm, pragmatic character. he finds a kindred spirit in you, save for the flowery words and, admittedly, the vanity.

you're amused to meet a writer living on the beach. the cabin was built by one of your grandfather's old friends, a rather surly man who had taken a liking to you when you were much younger. while the hut is in no way fancy, you can't help but consider how pretentious and, contrastingly, humble the writer must be. pretentious in such a way that he thinks living in a sandy, damp shack is a way to beat writer's block (it's odd, it's rarely a choice people make) and humble in such a way that he accepts and bears with living in a worn house with little complaint (it's admirable, if not a little silly!)

you find yourself in his company late at night when you can't sleep and it's so easy to open up to him because he's kind, he listens, and most importantly, he's not embarassed to admit he's got faults, at least to you. you let him see past your collected facade and into your cracked heart far sooner than you think and elliot doesn't mind at all

harvey

you might be the most mysterious person in town simply because of the way you present yourself. he finds himself always stuttering a little whenever you're around because of the way you watch him, set in a relaxed stance, your gaze flat and cool. later, he realizes that it's your resting face. he wonders about what you'd look like if you smiled-- really smiled

he's touched at the fact that you buy him coffee whenever he had to patch you up-- which is frequently, given your liking for the mines. you're adorable when he gives you general anesthesia. he had run out of local anesthesia and you needed a fair amount of stitches and though you told him that you have a high pain tolerance (stitches are far more painful than you think. i really don't want to put you through that), he insisted and you let him (fine, fine. get on with it, doctor). you had let out several inappropriate jokes under anesthesia and your cheeks had hurt from laughing non-stop

harvey's entranced. there's no other way to put it-- he's bewitched by your bright character hiding under that collected facade. he never pries for your secrets because he's got secrets, too. you like harvey because he's sweet and compassionate and even though he has to put up a firm, professional affectation, he wears his heart on his sleeve.

you see him as a friend at first, all platonic and it seems to be the end of it. but one day, as you hand him a coffee, he laughs and smiles and hands you a coffee just the way you like it. you're falling for him so hard and fast you think someone's put a spell on you that makes you notice the minute expressions on his face and mull over the way he talks to you. you're in love with him-- you can only hope he feels the same way too

[xhanisai]

My scattered heart and mind, Revolves around you tonight

AO3 / FFN

Summary: 

 "Ple-eeeeeease, Nino? Certainly, you must have some caffeine-fueled beverage hidden somewhere! You're the best drinks supplier I have! Anything with caffeine or sugar would do! Those super strong energy drinks you gave me were literally lifesavers and if you have anything that's even half as good as that, I will give you a hundred- no- two hundred salted caramel macarons! I'll even crush up some pecan nuts and mix it with the fillings, just the way you like it!" . Nino was fucking sold.

A.K.A 

The fic where Marinette wants a super strong caffeine beverage, Adrien wants her to be healthier and Nino is just a slut for macarons.

And Alya is the powerhouse of the group.

RED MOON - KARD Pairing - Adrinette Prompt - 'Energy drinks'

~(x)~

.

.

.

"Nino. I need a stronger batch. ASAP." A wild, sleep-deprived Marinette slammed her hands against the boys' desk, not even twitching a brow when the duo flinched from the sudden impact. The blonde of the two composed himself promptly, a flash of concern quick to plaster on his face as he took in her dishevelled appearance whilst the other boy simply gaped as if she's grown two heads. Or that might have been so much tamer compared to what he just concluded. "What the hell!? Marinette, that brand is the most strongest out there and even I barely managed to get my hands on them- and jeez dude, it hasn't even been a week and you're already immune to it!??" He leaned in closer, eyes quickly glancing around to see if anyone else was paying attention save for his cautious seatmate and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "Not to mention it's not exactly legal in France!" The betrayed, heated warning look he received from his appalled best friend on the side caused him to shift away from him by a tad, whistling innocently whilst Marinette scrutinised them both with glazed eyes. "Quoi!? Nino! I thought Alya managed to stop you from giving her any more of that crap! That stuff isn't good for your health at all!" Adrien then swivelled around to face Marinette, not knowing what to do with his hands other than wildly gesturing them around. "And you! You were supposed to start easing yourself off those energy drinks and get more rest." He decided to grab her hands with his, squeezing them with good measures as his brows remained furrowed, hoping to get his point across if his words weren't enough for the sweet girl. "Look at you, you can barely stand."

"I know, I tried. But even after sleeping decently, I get stupidly tired and exhausted even just by staying awake for only two or three hours." The designer sighed, completely unfazed by the boy's touch as she was far too drained to comprehend anything properly- everything still hazy and dreamlike in her vision currently. Had Adrien not been so anxious over her state, he would have cooed at how adorable her pout was. "It will take time, I know. That's why Alya advised that you drink some water whenever you feel sleepy or at least eat something nutritious like some fruit or vegetable sticks. They will help." The model's tone softened, thumb rubbing comforting circles on the backs of her hands and eyes full of nothing but adoration and affection. "You have been doing that, right?" He was met with a shy, guilty look from her. "Marinette..." He tutted disappointedly, eyes narrowed further as she continued to avert eye contact, cheeks blossoming with her standard sakura hue that he spotted whenever she noticed he was nearby. Pushing that stray thought aside, he beckoned for her to sit down by him on the shared seating, practically sandwiching her between him and Nino as he ruffled through his bag for something. "I've got some vitamin water with me that's really good for you and also doesn't taste like rubbish- lemme find it-" "It's okay- you shouldn't waste it on me. Unless it's stronger than the drinks that Nino gave me, I'll probably pass out on my desk regardless," Marinette's protests were left unheard, her expression twisting from a genuine bashful look to one equivalent to an angry kitten the minute she made eye contact with the drink bottle Adrien fished out of his bag. "Oh no...not that..." "Yes, that, Marinette." Adrien pushed the healthy concoction into her hands and then clasped his fingers around hers anew with a determined gaze. "Just because it doesn't have any caffeine or added sugar in it, doesn't mean it's not good-" "Nino, please tell me you have a can of Monster on you? I'd even settle on a Red Bull. Anything but that lemon flavoured water thing he's trying to make me drink!" The bespectacled teen almost caved in to the bluebell puppy eyes. However, the sight of his best friend's warning death glare behind her was much more persuasive and he'd rather not deal with the crafty blonde's wrath should he give in Dupain-Cheng. The last time Nino triggered Adrien's wrath was when he ate the model's share of the Dupain-Cheng's freshly baked croissants by 'accident' at one of the class' many picnics; his delicious drinks were somehow swapped with vile tomato juice and his luxurious crisps and hearty sandwiches were magically replaced with tasteless prunes and bloody cabbages. And Nino fucking hates cabbages! "N-Nope. Sorry dude...I had the last can this morning...hehe..." He wasn't prepared for her crestfallen expression and almost scrambled to tell the truth instead because nothing is more monstrous than making Marinette Dupain-Cheng cry! Thankfully, Adrien grabbed her immediate attention, reattempting to get her to drink the healthy juice much to her dismay. 'I'll let you handle this one bro. It's the least you can do after almost scaring me shitless with that glare of yours.' "-You don't need to drink the whole thing. Have a few sips and you'll feel so much better-" "No." "Please?" "No." "Come on, don't be so stubborn-" "Oh, I'm stubborn? M. 'Drink the damn flavourless juice' guy???" Marinette finally pushed the bottle back into Adrien's hand, scoffing and facing Nino so that her back was towards the deadpanned model. Nino couldn't help but quietly snicker at the clear frustration that was plastered on the usually composed teen's face and how he clutched the bridge of his nose. The Moroccan boy admired the French-English's boy's persistence. "Mari...it's not flavourless. It has subtle flavours of lemon and orange and a hint of mint- something you should be able to taste unless those energy drinks have already destroyed your palette." Resorting to drastic measures, Adrien leaned his chin on her shoulder, fluttering his lashes and mustering the cutest, sweetest kitten eyes he could ever manage. "Just one sip? That way you won't pass out on your desk? I promise?" Had Marinette not been sleep-deprived, she would have faltered right away. Heck, she would have faltered the minute that Adrien offered her the drink, happily gulping down the whole bottle just to appease him despite her strong distaste against the flavour. Too bad for him, she's severely sleep-deprived. With a soft flick against Adrien's forehead, earning a surprised mewl from him, Marinette leaned back towards Nino, hands clapped in a praying motion and eyes glittering with unshed tears. "Ple-eeeeeease, Nino? Certainly, you must have some caffeine-fueled beverage hidden somewhere! You're the best drinks supplier I have! Anything with caffeine or sugar would do! Those super strong energy drinks you gave me were literally lifesavers and if you have anything that's even half as good as that, I will give you a hundred- no- two hundred salted caramel macarons! I'll even crush up some pecan nuts and mix it with the fillings, just the way you like it!" . Nino was fucking sold. His stomach rumbled delightfully at the idea of those delicious sweets, his hunger and greed for the goodies overtaking what little rationality he had left and even powered through the nightmare that was Adrien's death glare as the blonde repeatedly gestured to refuse the offer. The little dignity he had left was what stopped Nino from drooling on the spot as he clasped his hands over Marinette's. "Really!? Two hundred!?" All the teen could see was the Goddess that was the bone-weary Marinette, her presence like the sun and Adrien's pestering logical thinking like a shadow being whacked away. Nothing will get in between Nino and those macarons. "Yes! That's what I said!" "With extra, extra pecan nuts? And that cute drizzle of caramel on top? A-A-And whipped cream on the side?" "Absolutely~" Just as Lahiffe was about to agree to the deal, his vision was suddenly filled with red, courtesy to his disgruntled best friend pulling the tip of his cap forward as he leant over the girl. "Adrien!? Dude!? What was that for!?" Nino hastily fixed his hat back in place, his scowl nowhere near as effective as the fashion mogul's son's, the taller of the three placing his hands on Marinette's shoulders whilst still behind her. "What was that for? Oh, you deserved far worse. Look at the state she's in- ya think she'd be able to make two-hundred macarons like this!?" As if to emphasise his point, Marinette simply blinked back, almost nodding off to sleep. Nonchalantly, Adrien placed her on his lap, pressing her face into his chest and wrapped his arms around her, all the while glowering at Nino- which should have been a comical sight for the latter had he not known the consequences to evoke such annoyance. "Of course I don't expect her to make it right now. Just down the future..." "A future where she'd be so much more knackered and exhausted cos a certain someone won't stop giving her that heart-attack juice like an idiot-" "But Adrien! Macarons...MACARONS." "You can go buy them from her parents like the rest of us-" "B-B-But...handmade Marinette macarons, Adrien!" "THERE'S MORE TO LIFE THAN MACARONS-"

"Ehem."

.

All of a sudden, the blood that was flowing through the duo's veins was replaced with icy dread and incredible fear from the sound of a certain,

familiar

angry voice. Adrien couldn't help but gulp, holding Marinette tighter and leaning back, away from the person up at the front.

.

"What's this about Lahiffe supplying Marinette the bad juice behind our backs?"

.

One could describe that at that moment,

Alya's

figure was looming and filled one's soul with

horror

from the way that fire blazed in those hazel eyes and how her voluminous hair practically floated behind her out of rage.

.

Though, no one was more fucked than Nino Lahiffe.

.

"You reap what you sow, buddy..." Was the last thing that the pitiful teen heard from his best friend as he was mercilessly hauled away by his girlfriend, his wails of help and apologies falling on deaf ears...

.

.

.

~(x)~

A/N: Looks like someone's grounded from super penguino for a good while :D Lemme know what you think in the comments!