#again idk if i have posted this one before but here

[saltnsugarbear]

i see you’ve tentatively opened ur inbox for bob requests lmaoo, may i TIMIDLY request a fox that flips the whole “bob has a breakdown reader comes to help” narrative? ITS A GOOD NARRATIVE but there’s soooo many fics of that, give us some protective bob! some bob with emotional weight!!

shyly putting this on the Robert Reynolds x reader tags doorstep

thank you for the idea, my love! I wanted to see how I felt writing for Bob and if I could find his voice in myself,,,,, I wanted to contribute and I want to give him kisses so thank you thank you <3

I went a bit,,,, idk not like a meltdown but I wanted Bob to be the one that had hope and whimsy!!! Bob is the one to banish the doubt and sadness!!! I feel unsure about this piece and if I like it but here you go Bob enjoyers <3

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: gender neutral reader, 🍃 smoking to cope with existence/trauma/thoughts, reader and Walker have a non-descript past, post Thunderbolts*, existential dread,

side note: did you guys know Bob might have photokinensis (control/production of light) which is pretty cool idk also he dropped out of high school and his addiction started in middle school :( his wiki made me sad

Bob takes care of you in little ways. Quiet ways.

You've learned that he loves quietly. He does your laundry, folds your clothes neatly, and puts them away. He knows your coffee order better than his own, what meals you prefer depending on the restaurant when the team orders out. Bob knows it's easier for you to fall asleep around the team than by yourself, and despite warnings from Walker, how violently you could wake up.

That's how the team first found out Bob could... Well... Glow, for lack of a better description.

Bob's photokinesis was jarring for the whole group. Ava and Yelena whispered softly as they put away blankets while Walker and Bucky picked up leftover trash, snacks, and dishes. Alexei was the only other person asleep on the other side of the couch, so Bob was left hovering near where you rest. No one was paying attention to his silent turmoil, not wanting to turn on the lights in the room and risking a disgruntled group of half-awake Avengerz but not wanting to risk catching an elbow to the stomach like Alexei had earlier that week.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn't noticed that Ava and Yelena had stopped talking. Bob didn't notice the soft glow even as your brows scrunched together, and you grumbled an annoyed "Walker.."

"What?" He chirped defensively, not bothering to look in your direction as he stacked cups in a bowl.

"Turn off the light," you complain, burrowing further into your blanket.

"What ligh-" Walker cuts himself off when he looks over.

Bob misses the way that the girls glance to Walker, who looks to Bucky. None of them had seen Bob display any other powers after the Void's fit over New York. So the soft glow emitting from the man's skin gave them pause, unsure if they should intervene or stay silent. Finally, after a few minutes of staring and your quiet grumbling, Walker makes a choice.

"Bobby-" The sharpness of John's voice makes Bob startle, a bright flash of light blinding him before the room is dark again.

"What the hell," you grumble, finally opening your eyes, officially awake after that. "Why are you yelling at him?"

"I didn't yell-" Walker starts.

"You raised your voice."

"I did not raise-"

"And you know he doesn't like when you call him Bobby." You tack on.

"I know, I forgot." John huffs, glancing at Bob. "Sorry, kid."

"It's fine.." Bob assures him passively, tangling his fingers together as his softly drags a nail over his skin. "I- I didn't turn on the lights, though?"

"You were the light." Ava says bluntly, and Yelena can't help but nod.

"You were glowing, Bob." She says it the same way she would tell him that he was wearing a grey sweater or he had done the dishes.

"I.. I was?" He asks, glancing at each of his housemates for confirmation. Ava huffs with an endeared roll of her eyes while Yelena nods solemnly again. Bucky and John look the most put-off but the revelation, so Bob is unsure if he should be alarmed or not.

"Next time you decide to glow, Bob," You start collecting your blanket as you prepare to get up. "Do it when I'm awake. And when I have sunglasses on, in case you decide to blind Johnny again."

"O-Okay.." He nods, shuffling back so you can stand up.

"Thanks, bub," you say softly, nudging him with your shoulder as you pass. He hums shortly, watching as you make your way down the hall.

The rest of the supers watch Bob quietly before Yelena speaks up.

"We will be talking about this tomorrow.." An easy dismissal that the others agree on, different noises and hums from them. Bob nods, shifting as he watches everyone else clear up. Ava sighs quietly and gives him a pitying look.

"We're not upset, Bob, just surprised. Go get ready for bed." The reassurance settles something in his stomach. He feels like he's can let out a breath again. Bob carries those words with him when he climbs into bed.

Not upset. Just surprised.

Bob can live with that.

Being in an apartment full of people in different stages of recovery from varying substances can be... Stifling, for when you want to let loose. You, Ava, and Bucky all made a vote to keep any form of alcohol or drug stronger than Tylenol out of the house. For the sake of the remaining Avengerz. The three of you also agreed your votes counted as more, as the people least affected by the ban, when the other four tried to argue against it. Not that Bob had much reason to fight it. It was for the better, really.

Except, you didn't realize how horribly this plan backfired until you wanted to smoke or have a glass of wine after an annoying day with Valentina or reading a particularly gruesome article. Or dealing with the most recent, Sam's copyright lawsuit.

As such, your only options were drinking in the dark of your bedroom or standing on the balcony and smoking. The latter is the more appealing, letting you watch the streets with a level of detachment you only got when you were high. The rest of the team had dispersed to their separate night activities, watching TV or sparring or training.

So, you're surprised when you hear the door open behind you. You turn to look out of reflex, and your curiosity peaks when you spot Bob in the doorway. He sniffs softly, and you remember the joint between your fingers.

"Oh, fuck-" You scramble to put out the joint, stubbing it out against the railing. "Sorry."

"It's fine, never really liked pot.." He laughs softly. Bob watches silently as you tuck it away in a small tin and shove it back into your pocket. "What are you, uh.. What are you doing out here?"

"Needed some quiet to... Well..." You sigh. "Like you guys and everything but.."

You let out a deep breath, leaning against the railing heavily. Bob nods behind you, taking a few steps closer to where you stand. He took the stubbing of the joint as the silent invitation it was to stay out with you.

"Alexei is a little loud... Ava and Walker are always fighting." Bob shares quietly.

"Not fighting," You muse before you look back at him. "Maybe bickering?"

"Bickering.." Bob agrees quietly, nodding a little. You hum before turning back to the city lights.

"C'mere," you call him over, glancing back at him when you don't hear him move. "I'm not gonna let you fall."

The assurance makes Bob's stomach twist with an emotion he can't name but is finding himself familiar with the longer he's a part of the team. He muses over it long enough that eventually you hold your hand out to him, not bothering to turn to him. Bob tugs at the cuff of his sleeve before putting his wrist in your grasp.

He doesn't miss the huff you let out, but it follows as you gently tug him closer to the railing. He can feel a flush making its way to his face when you cradle his forearm against your side like a football. Your hold on his arm is gentle but firm, keeping him in place beside you.

"Those people will never know what we go through..." You say quietly, watching people jay-walk, honk their horns at one another, and pass each other in fleeting steps.

"Isn't that the point?" Bob asks, keeping his eyes on the buildings, watching people walk the halls and live their lives. You make a noise beside him, contemplating it silently. You dwell on it for a few minutes before you speak up again.

"Do you ever... Regret signing up for that Sentry serum shit?" You ask Bob softly, eyes tracing the cars as they wind around the city. Bob hums softly, tilting his head this way and that as he thought.

"I wouldn't have met you guys... Probably still doing meth and signing spinning... So this is probably better?" He says it like it's a question, and then he nods. "I don't think I regret it."

You nod, letting that sit in the air, wishing you could cling to that feeling he had. You can't find it in yourself tonight, grabbing around for something that isn't there.

"Do you regret yours?" Bob asks in turn. You turn it over in your mind for a couple of minutes, listening to the city noise.

"I was a kid..." You tell him. "I didn't know... I didn't-"

You cut yourself off, letting out a breath. "I'd stop myself if I could go back."

"Then you wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't be here.." Bob protests quietly.

"You guys could still do this without me," you counter, crossing your arms over the railing. "Be the New Avengerz... Deal with Valentina, play dress up every now and then..."

"Who would fix Walker's shield?" Bob asks quietly, and you can't help but scoff. It's not a mean scoff, more of a huff of exasperation and fondness for the man.

"He can still fight crime with a taco," you tell him. "Sometimes the doubt and the pain is just...."

"All consuming," He fills in. You nod. It's the only way to describe it on nights like tonight.

"Guess you would know something about that." You sigh, having forgotten who you were talking to. He shrugs beside you, making a sound of indifference.

"It's not always like that." Bob reminds you. "Like a wave or- or Ava. It comes and goes."

The comparison makes you snort, ducking your head to hide your grin. Bob sees it, though, adopting a small smile of his own.

"You guys made it better, though."

"Even Walker?" You muse. That keeps Bob quiet for a moment.

"Not always, but... It has to be better than dealing with it alone?"

You hum softly, mulling over his words. Apply them to the pit gnawing at your stomach and climbing at your throat.

"It eventually goes away... Even if it's just for an hour or a month." Bob says. "Like the seasons..."

His words settle over you like a blanket, soothing the doubts in your brain.

"You should become a therapist," you tell him. Your words surprise a laugh out of Bob. You sigh softly, feeling the light buzz behind your eyes.

You lean against him but just enough that if he pulled away, you wouldn't fall over. Instead, Bob finds the pressure comforting. The feeling of his arm cradled against your body and your weight beside him fills Bob with an overwhelming sense of peace. He doesn't even release he's leaning against you as well.

You hum quietly, taking the small victory of him pushing against you. He's warm, even through his sweater, and it bleeds into your own being, taking that warmth and holding in your chest as you look at the city. There's a soft glow in your periphery, and you can't help but grin.

"You're glowing again."

[vampiilure]

Tuesday

Summary: you accidentally grab at the same book as another, turns out it's the reason why you look forward to every tuesday. You and Spencer, after meeting, enjoy each other's space in the little bookstore, it escalates to him asking you out to dinner.

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, slow burn, a tiny trauma dump from spencer

WC: 2219

an: I'm working on part 3 of the black butler one, but I'm currently in between moving so Idk when I can post it! :(

The first time it happens, it's raining, light, misty rain, the kind that's more whisper than weather. The air smells faintly of damp pavement, crushed leaves, and the orange peel you tucked into your coat pocket on the walk over. You duck into the little bookstore nestled between a florist and a vintage clothing shop, your usual Tuesday sanctuary, and shake the rain from your sleeves as the door swings closed behind you with a soft, familiar chime. The sound feels like punctuation, a gentle full stop at the end of whatever outside noise you've left behind.

Inside, the bookstore hums in its quiet way, old jazz murmurs from a corner speaker, blending into the rustle of pages and the soft scuff of someone moving between stacks. The place is warm with the scent of old paper and wood polish, with something slightly citrusy you've never quite been able to identify. You follow the creaky wooden floorboards instinctively, stepping around a table stacked with faded Penguin Classics, past the fiction aisle, and into the back corner, where Psychology lives, tucked between political theory and poetry like some strange venn diagram of the human condition.

You reach for the book without thinking, Cognitive Development and Psychopathology.  It's dense, unflinchingly clinical in parts, but you’ve been circling it for weeks. There's something in the way it weaves together early development, trauma theory, and behavior patterns that fascinates you, how it reads more like the anatomy of memory than an academic text.

And then, as your fingers touch the spine, another hand reaches for it at the exact same moment.

The contact is brief- cool fingertips brushing yours- but it's enough to make you glance up.

He's taller than you, but somehow he manages to take up less space than he should, like he's trying to shrink himself to fit the bookstores hush. His hair curls slightly from the humidity, soft and unbrushed in a way that suggests he might have run here through the rain without an umbrella. He wears a navy cardigan over a mismatched shirt and tie, the pattern of the tie slightly crooked. He looks surprised, blinking at you with warm, honey-colored eyes behind wire-framed glasses.

He pulls his hand back immediately. 

“I-sorry. You go ahead,” he says, his voice low but clipped, as though he's used to recalibrating mid sentence. “I've read it before. Several times, actually. Though I find I never quite retain the same interpretation twice.”

You pause, glancing down at the book again and then back at him. “Sounds like memory reconsolidation.”

That makes his eyebrows lift, sharply, delightedly, as if you've just said the exact right thing on accident.

“Exactly. Yes. that's actually-well, it's the core of the problem, isn't it? That every time we retrieve a memory, we alter it. It's not like a file you open and close. It's more like…like clay. Always being reshaped. Dr. Vass even argues that therapy, at its best, is just carefully controlled memory destabilization. But of course, her sample sizes were too small and skewed toward outpatient populations, so..”

He trails off, blinking again. Then he lets out a breath and offers a shy, crooked smile. “Sorry. I ramble.”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. “It's refreshing.”

He glances at you as if he's trying to determine whether you mean it. Then his smile deepens, just slightly.

“You have good taste,” he says.

“Likewise,” you reply, this time, he actually lets out a quiet laugh, something barely audible but genuine.

He offers you his hand, like the thought just occurred to him. “Spencer Reid.”

You shake it, noticing the precision in his grip, the careful way he measures touch like he's learned to be cautious with his presence in the world. You give him your name in return, and he repeats it softly, almost to himself, committing it to memory.

Something shifts then, something subtle. Like two books leaning gently into each other on a shelf, no longer strangers.

You think that will be it. But the next Tuesday, he's there.

You spot him first, seated in the philosophy aisle, one leg curled under the other on the faded armchair near the back. He's reading again, The Denial of Death by Becker, but looks up the moment you enter, as if he's been listening for the sound of your step.

“Hi.” he says, the word a little breathless, like he didn't realize he'd been holding any until just now.

That day, you talk about Carl Jung. The week after, it's Virginia Woolf. Once, your conversation spirals from Plato to neurolinguistics to the way children invent private languages and how that might intersect with trauma encoding. He speaks in long sentences, hands moving in rhythm with his thoughts, building out entire structures of ideas in the air like he's mapping galaxies. You never feel lost, though. He pulls you into the orbit of his mind with ease, always pausing to check if youre still with him, always listening as intently as he speaks.

He starts bringing you books, ones he thinks you'll like, secondhand copies with his thoughts scribbled in the margins. You bring pastries from the cafe down the block. On rainy weeks, he brings tea. It becomes a ritual. You become ritual.

Sometimes you sit in silence, reading side by side. Other times, the words don't stop until the shop closes and the clerk politely flicked the lights. The world outside shrinks into irrelevance when he's across from you, head tilted, brow furrowed in thought.

You learn how he cracks his knuckles when he's nervous. How he won't interrupt, but his eyes light up when he's holding back a thought. How he listens, really listens, with the kind of reverence that makes you feel like what you say matters, like it's being gently stored away somewhere sacred.

He tells you things you know he doesn't tell most people. That he's been called a genius, but he doesn't always feel like one. That he used to hate silence, but lately, he's been learning how to sit with it. That he never had a favorite place in D.C, not really, too transient, too loud, but this bookstore, he says one day, without looking up from his book, “feels like breathing again.”

You don't answer. You just smile and turn the page.

Five months after that first accidental brush of fingertips, he gives you a book.

He doesn't say anything. Just place’s it on the table between you. A worn copy of Letters to a Young Poet, soft-edged and underlined. You open it without thinking, and a folded piece of paper falls out.

Your name is written on the front in careful, narrow handwriting.

Inside the note reads:

I've found a rhythm in these Tuesdays.

A stillness I didn't know I needed.

I used to believe connection was accidental.

Or infrequent.

But then I met you. And it didn't feel

Accidental at all.

I was wondering,

Would you like to have dinner with me?

No pressure.

Just one more conversation.

-Spencer

You sit back slowly, heart thudding in your chest, the soft sound of pages turning somewhere in the store now impossibly loud. When you look up, he's not pretending to read. He's watching you, quietly, hands folded in his lap, eyes full of uncertainty that doesn't match the brilliance of his mind.

You smile, small, certain, and hold up the note.

He straightens, blinking once.

“I'd love to,” you say.

The smile that breaks across his face isn't perfect. It's not suave or practiced or cinematic.

It's real.

And just like that, the story turns another page.

The dinner is set for the following friday. He chooses a quiet, tucked away place, of course he does, a little family-owned bistro with books stacked on its windowsills and flickering tea lights on each table. He texts you the address precisely, three days in advance, and follows up on Thursday to confirm with a slightly self conscious, “Still okay for tomorrow?” 

You reply yes, and he sends a single reply back: looking forward to it. Very much.

The phrase plays on a loop in your head as you dress.

You arrive first. The table is already reserved, near the back, half-shielded by a tall shelf of antique hardcovers. You glance around at the soft lighting, the quiet music playing in the background. It doesn't surprise you that Spencer found this place. It feels like him: thoughtful, hidden in plain sight, full of depth and charm you only see when you slow down.

When he walks in, you spot him immediately.

There's something about the way he carries himself tonight, more upright than usual, but still with that signature nervous energy he never quite masks. He's wearing a dark sweater and blazer, and his hair is a little more carefully styled than usual, though it still curls loosely around his ears. His eyes land on you, and the second they do, his shoulders drop just a little, like he's been holding something in and finally remembers how to breathe.

“Hi,” he says, pulling out your chair for you, and then his own. “Im...Im really glad you came.”

“So am i,” you answer, and his lips tug into a smile that takes its time spreading, like it's blooming rather than appearing.

The conversation is easy. Of course it is. You talk about books at first, he asks if you've started The Body Keeps the Score, and when you say yes, he leans in, visibly excited, launching into a soft but passionate explanation of how somatic trauma therapy has reshaped the way we understand memory storage. He stops himself three times mid-ramble, apologizing with flushed cheeks and glancing down at his hands. You touch his wrist gently once, just to steady him. “I like listening to you,” you say, and he glances up at you like that's something he doesn't hear very often but wishes he did.

Over pasta and shared wine, the conversation deepens.

He tells you about his mom. He doesn't launch into it the way he does with literature or statistics, it's slower, careful, like unwrapping something delicate. He talks about her schizophrenia, about the sharpness of her mind before the illness settled in, about how he used to read her poetry and scientific papers out loud just to keep her anchored. You don't interrupt. You just let the quiet stretch when it needs to, holding space for the weight he's always carried.

“I used to think I had to fix everything,” he says, voice low. “That if I just knew enough- read enough, understand enough- i could make it all go away. But some things aren't puzzles. They Are…ongoing.” he pauses, then looks at you. “You make it feel okay to have some of those pieces still unresolved.”

You say his name then, softly, and his gaze flickers to yours with something unguarded, something that's not just gratitude but recognition. Like he sees something in you he didn't expect to find, but can't quite let go of now that he has.

You talk for hours, until your plates are cleared, until the wineglass between you is empty, until the candle burns low and the lights dim just a little more.

Outside, the air is cool and still. The rain has passed, leaving behind the shimmer of wet pavement and reflections in puddles. He walks you to your car without speaking at first, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. You match his pace naturally.

“I…don't really do this,” he says suddenly, stopping just before you reach your door. “Not just the dating thing. But the part where i…care this quickly.”

You feel something shift again, like the pause before a page turn.

“I haven't either,” you say. “But I do.”

His expression softens, and for a moment, the world shrinks to the narrow space between you. He doesn't lean in. He doesn't rush. He just looks at you, and it feels like a long-held breath finally being released.

“I'd like to see you again,” he says. “Outside the bookstore. Not that I don't love the bookstore- I do. But I'd like to know what your laugh sounds like in other places. What you look like in the morning light. What you think about on a Sunday when no one’s asking you questions.”

The words are so Spencer- half poetic, half exact, more honest than most people are allowed to be.

“I'd like that too.” you say.

And then he smiles, and it's the real one, the one that  starts in his eyes and unfolds all the way through him, like he's not sure what's happening, only that it feels like something he doesn't want to stop.

He brushes your hand with his before he leaves. Just barely. But it's enough.

Enough to know this is only the beginning.

Enough to know the next chapter is already writing itself in quiet, deliberate ink.

[airenyah]

JD: Baby Tee Lore

(^in reply to this post)

hoooooo boy okay buckle up... @watchingblsnowandforever @cornflowershade

let me preface this by saying that i do not have tik tok so i have absolutely zero clue what is going on over there. everything i know i have picked up through osmosis on other plattforms.

sooooo: seems like there was/is a tiktok challenge going around based on "baby tee" by galchanie where people dance to it sexily, showing off their waist?? as i said, i don't have tiktok so this is my assumption here. btw, here's a screenshot from the original mv, to provide some extra context. note the crop tops:

now that we have all this out of the way, let's get to the actual lore...

(also idk if this is the complete story, but these are the parts of the lore i am aware of/that i remember. there's a chance i missed something)

on march 18th, 2025 dunk posts this video on tiktok:

it's a fake-out. dunk does not show off his waist. joong comments:

(note: as of me making this post on may 17th, 2025 the comment seems to have disappeared from dunk's video as far as i can see)

translation:

joong: i wasn't expecting anything, but I'm disappointed dunk: huh?

a fan posts a screenshot of this on twitter and comments:

(source)

translation:

fan: what was p'joong hoping for? 👀 [screenshot]

joong sees this tweet and following thread ensues:

(1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6)

translation:

fan 1: what was p'joong hoping for? 👀 [screenshot] joong: a hot dance in a crop top fan 2: but joong, you'll be possessive of dunk again 😔🤟🏻 joong: i'm not posessive! he can dance! go on hahahaha fan 3: not possessive because you wanna see it too, huh? 👀 joong: yes

dunk sees (some of) the tweets and also has something to say on that:

(1 / 2 / 3)

translation:

fan 1: what was p'joong hoping for? 👀 [screenshot] joong: a hot dance in a crop top dunk: show me, prof

joong then replies with a few videos of his own:

(1 / 2)

translation:

dunk: show me, prof joong: here na krub, student

unfortunately tumblr won't let me add more than one video per post, but you can find them in his tweet if you wanna watch them

joong also replies to another fan's comment on the situation:

(1 / 2)

translation:

fan: why does it seem like everyone (joong) is hoping that my child will dance to baby tee while also wearing an outfit that shows off his waist? i'm possessive, i don't want my child to dance, but if it's baby shark, it's fine joong: ohhhh sathu i hope dunk won't dance

the next day, on march 19th, joong posts his own baby tee challenge on tiktok and cross-posts it on twitter too:

(find the video on youtube here too)

again, terribly sorry, but tumblr won't let me add any more video, so you'll have to deal with more links. if you have trouble viewing any of the videos let me know and i'll cross-post them on tumblr

on march 30th, 2025 dunk has an event in which he is is taught to dance the baby tee dance and is made to dance it:

(fancam here)

note: he has his shirt tucked in and doesn't pull it out. once again we do not see dunk revealing his waist for baby tee

the next day, on march 31th, joong and dunk are on their book fair fansign. at one point joong says he heard that dunk danced baby tee the day before. dunk confirms. joong asks "how do you dance it?" dunk says "i forgot" and joong proceeds to teach it to dunk

(unfortunately i can't understand the comment that dunk makes afterwards, but i think i hear the word "shirt")

find the moment on youtube here (from 5:12 onwards if it doesn't open on the time stamp automatically) or on twitter here and here

(source screenshot)

note: once again dunk has his shirt tucked in, giving him a perfect excuse to not show off his waist yet again. joong still hasn't gotten to see dunk dance baby tee properly and sexily in a crop top

on april 5th joong does a twitter space in which a fan asks if there'll be a chance for "dunk baby tee". joong comments: "what's that? what's 'dunk baby t'? ohhh! dunk baby tee. the dance? has he danced it already? dunk might have danced it already"

(time stamp 22:15)

all of this leading us to today, D1 of lol fan fest 2025 on may 17th, 2025, where they surprise us by doing the full song on stage:

(video here)

joong and the fans finally got to see dunk dance baby tee properly and in a crop top even. everyone and their mother and especially joong can finally rest

and there you have it. the lore behind baby tee. and the reason why this performance is a Big Deal and very iconic™ in its own way, even if (to outsiders) it may not seem as such

also: minus points to dunk for straightifying the song by changing the lyrics from "boy you're my baby tee-ee-ee" to "girl you're my baby tee-ee-ee" and many plus points to joong for actually keeping the "boy" in "boy you fit in me"

[novas-corner]

OH DEAR GODS PEOPLE ACTUALLY LIKED MY WRITING???? I hope y’all know I’m freaking out about this, it will get to my head (my apolocheese)

Anyways, a singular person asked for more… so… more it is!!

Again with all of this I know almost NOTHING about the game, I’ve missed out on a lot of lore since I am simply a card collector… and I’m very biased towards characters 😭‼️

Also this was NOT proofread properly (I’m doing this on no sleep at eight in the morning.)

Anyways, part 1 is here!

Also I’m basing their schedules around THIS post here!! (I think it’s official stuff? Idk)

Thank you for listening to me yap… back to being isekaid!!!! (I still do not know how to spell that)

Oh also there’s angst ish in here? Idk man I’m just writing out my thoughts at this point LOL

OH FUCK AN ISEKAI

Alright well sleeping was… a nightmare. All five of them argued until you eventually gave up and went to the couch. Damn boys, they’re gonna make your life trouble and you know it. But you gotta admit… five guys fawning all over you is kinda nice! The attention? Fantastic. They give you massages? UGH, so nice.

Well… you’ll need one of those mentioned massages tomorrow, you know damn well your back is going to be killing you in the morning.

You’re surprised to see Sylus walk into the living room, sitting next to you.

“You shouldn’t sleep out here sweetie, it’s not good for your body… what if I took you back to the N109 zone with me? You could sleep in a nice comfortable bed there and there would be much more space”

You groan, sitting up

“The only way I will do that is if you bring the other four with us. You need to remember that we are all not technically in our own universes since this ISNT the main storyline of the game. I don’t want them to be stranded here, I’d feel bad about that”

He sighs, but smiles down at you, pulling your head into his lap.

“Always thinking of others before yourself hm sweetie? Be a bit selfish sometimes okay?”

You huff, but relax into his embrace nonetheless.

“Yeah… I’ll try. Why are you up anyways? Couldn’t sleep?”

He’s running his fingers through your hair (or just rubbing your bald head, idk man) and chuckles down at you.

“Oh come on, I thought you knew all about us”

He’s teasing you… cocky mf-

“The N109 zone doesn’t have a day or night technically, so my schedule is a bit off from everyone else”

Oooooooh… riiiight… you had forgotten about that, honestly there’s probably so much you’ve forgotten. You never did read through the events or stories, just let them play in the background to get more pulls for banners… maybe you should get back into the story after all this blows over… or then again… maybe you won’t have to due to being with them all the time now.

“Right… I forgot about that… well I’m… tired. So I’m going to sleep- lemme move-“

You’re trying to shuffle off his lap to not disturb him, but he just rests a hand on the small of your back and tells you to ‘not worry’ and that he can ‘handle you sleeping for a bit’

…that’s sweet…

You’re relaxing into him almost immediately and drifting off, letting your slumber take over you.

What you don’t know however, is that once sylus is sure you’re asleep, he’s analyzing you, trying to see if this was all some ploy to not be caught for cheating… but it’s really a different person. What was once a person he knew was now just someone who knew him. It was a strange feeling, they had the face of the one he loved, they almost sounded like them too— they just spoke differently. It felt so right and yet so wrong to have you there… maybe he should have Zayne give you a physical checkup tomorrow, make sure you’re healthy and all.

Sylus tries to not care for you, after all… you’re not HIS, not the person he knew. But you acted the same in so many ways… hopefully this can all be fixed. For now though, he sits running his fingers through your hair as he reads a book.

~Timeskip~

It’s morning now and you groggily wake up to the smell of bacon. You’re sitting up, rubbing your sleep ridden eyes as a cheerful voice calls out from the kitchen.

“Oh! Sorry pips, did I wake you up?”

You’re standing now, walking over to Caleb with a yawn.

“Nono… I just woke up… whatcha making?”

He’s all smiles, you’re honestly not sure how he has so much energy at six in the morning but whatever.

“Just some bacon and eggs! Want some?”

He says with a grin, pointing to the plate of bacon and eggs. You pause, eyeing the plate.

“Were the eggs made first? I’m allergic and can’t really risk cross contamination… don’t wanna die today, y’know?” (I’m reminding y’all that this is ME written as if it’s YOU. We ain’t having eggs together homies 🫵🥲)

“Oh?? Uh… I think so? Maybe you shouldn’t eat them to be safe… I’ll make you something else!”

He’s saying while already looking for something else to make… at least they know where everything in this apartment is located, I’ve got no clue.

You’re trying to find bread and hear him mumbling something about how his version of you isn’t allergic to anything… guess that’s a difference.

He sees you rifling through literally every drawer and pats you on the head.

“You know you can ask for things… right?”

“Well- maybe I just wanted to see if I could do it myself, this is technically my apartment after all… but uh… where’s the bread?”

He’s laughing at you, pointing to the bread literally in the counter, you blind blind mf. Your shoulders almost slump in defeat as you pop some toast into the toaster and open the fridge. Huh… fully stocked… that’s nice, where’s the butter though…

As if reading your mind, Caleb walks behind you and grabs the butter for you.

“Here, it’s buried in there, you wouldn’t have found it alone”

You’re just kinda looking up at him, he’d got you cages in between him and the door- HE DID THE HOT THING WHERE THEY GRAB SOMETHING FOR YOU GANG. Ugh you forget that this is a game about flirting and they’re gonna be doing that.

“Oh… right, thank you”

You’re quickly scurrying away from him— and as everyone does, you get spooked by the damn toaster. That mf laughs at you AGAIN. Jerk…

Anyways you’re buttering your toast and watching as he plates his food, having made extra for the others… that’s sweet of him.

“I usually ask my version of you to work out in the mornings… so… would you want to join me for a morning workout after breakfast?”

You look up from your toast, a mouthful and crumbs on your face, he just smiles at you as you swallow your food and wipe your face.

“Mm- sure? Im not the strongest though so expect me to not keep up.”

Which gets you thinking… how in the hell are you going to do the job of the MC??? There’s no way you could deal with wanderers… would you being here jeopardize the job the MC has? Oh gods I mean you can technically rely on the guys for money but what if they get sick of you not being their MC. Not only that, is time passing back home? Will people realize you’re gone? Are you going to end up like an unsolved crime case?

“Hey… are you okay?”

His voice snaps you out of the despair trace you were in, you look up at him with wide eyes and see him looking at you concerned.

“Oh… yeah sorry I was just thinking… I’ll join you for the workout, it’ll probably take my mind off things.”

You’re trying to keep smiling, you’ve been obsessed with these men for months and they’re literally all here, you should just enjoy this in case it’s a dream, y’know?

He’d still visibly concerned but decides to drop it, finishing his food and grabbing yours and his empty plates, putting them in the sink to wash later.

“Well let’s go workout then shall we? You can sit on my back while I do pushups? Alright pips?”

OH BOY!!! You’re standing with a smile, nodding along and following him along to the door, pausing and looking down at your clothes.

“Ooooh wait I need to change my clothes first”

You begin to wander back to what you found out is your room, walking in to see Zayne buttoning up his shirt, and Rafayel and Xavier cuddled up in bed… well more like Xavier cuddling up to Rafayel but whatever they look kinda cute, y’know?

You smile at Zayne, he just nods to you, finishing putting his shirt on.

“There’s breakfast there, Caleb made eggs and Bacon, plus bread for toast”

You’re saying as you walk over to the closet, rifling through the clothes there. You know that MC has got to have something for a workout other than this damn hunters uniform… surely right?

Oh thank the gods they do. (I actually could not find one but I’m gonna guess MC has a workout outfit)

“Are you working out? Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

You turn to see Zayne, who is now hovering behind you.

“Oh! Yeah Caleb invited me to workout with him, I guess him and the me you know worked out in the mornings”

He just nods.

“Alright, enjoy that then, I’ll be back later, I’m going to try and stay with you overnight and whatnot to see if I can help figure out what’s going on, the rest of the men have also agreed they want to be around as well.”

You just nod, biting at your lip slightly. It’s sweet that they care about you enough, but you’re sure they’re only caring because they want their old lives back. You can’t really blame them though since you just want your life back too. Again, it’s nice to be here with men you’ve simped over… but you have friends, parents… ugh be positive damnit, we can’t be depressed all the time.

“Right okay…“

You’re trailing off, not really knowing how to proceed.

“The white haired man— Sylus I believe? He mentioned that I should give you a checkup at some point today. Would you rather visit the hospital during my lunch break or wait I til I get back?”

You raise an eyebrow at his words. Oh boy these mfs are in for a TREAT, they’ll never expect the amount of things wrong with me. Huh that begs the question, will my body function differently than theirs? I mean obviously I don’t have the protocore heart and whatever else… but is it different since they’re game characters?

OH MF YOU DIDNT ANSWER-

“Probably just when you get back, I’m not really sure how to get to the hospital after all.”

He just nods, patting you on the head and walking out.

“Sounds good, I’ll expect you to be ready when I get home then. Have a good day.”

HE’S SO STOIC???? I don’t know how to feel bout that but whATEVER YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING OUT.

You gather your clothes and move over to the bathroom, as you’re getting dressed you can hear Rafayel waking up and causing a ruckus over being cuddled by Xavier. God damn he’s loud…

You’re changed now and walk back to the living room, where Caleb is sat on the couch waiting for you.

“Ah! Finally pips! Felt like I was gonna have to search for you in case you had gotten lost!”

He’s honestly adjusted really well to the fact that I’m not the me he knows. I wonder if it’s a facade, I know damn well he cares a great deal for his version of me. STOP THINKING SO NEGATIVELY. DAMN.

Anyways you’re smiling slightly at his words, listening to him yap about what he’s planning to do for his workout, it’s just going in one ear and right out the other if I’m being real.

You leave the apartment and go to the gym that I guess the apartment has? (I’m making things up as I go at this point, things will just appear as I need them too)

He’s doing weights and stuff, you’re struggling to get through his tough workout (I’m crippled sorry gang, if I gotta struggle so do you 💔)

He notices this of course and slows his pace down, eventually stopping and patting you on the shoulder.

“Hey… you don’t need to do this y’know?”

You just sigh and look up at him defeated.

“Does your version of me do this every day? That bitch is ATHLETIC.”

He laughs at you and offers to just help him with his workout I stead, which you joyfully agree to, watching Caleb workout? YES PLEASE.

So now here you are, sat on his back and counting his pushups for him. Huh, suddenly the angst from earlier is gone as you watch his ARMS??? UGHHHH 🤩

He eventually finished that up though (UNFORTUNATELY) and just looks up at you… still on his back, making it just a lil bit hard to get up.

“Pips… you gotta move y’know?- I will just roll you over, you should know this.”

Oh we gotta know what that means.

“Hm? The ground is talking, how strange…”

You’re looking up at the ceiling with an almost expectant grin on your face, which he does not fail to realize. Well you asked for it.

Suddenly he has managed to roll you off him and have you underneath him. Don’t ask the logistics of it, just go with it.

You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, Christ it was fast— how in the hell did he do that???

He just chuckles and gets off of you, offering a hand out for you to take, which you do and he pulls you up. "l have to say, you don't act all that different, it's easy to forget you're not the same person I've known." OUCH????? OK ANGST IS BACK IG??? He's walking you back up to your apartment, the hand he used to help you up now wrapped around your shoulder "Oh?.. is that... a bad thing?" "I suppose it isn't! It makes you fun to be around!" "Ah okay..." You trail off, you know what you want to ask but... "What happens if you can't get... the other me back?" The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think to stop them, he almost freezes in his tracks but keeps walking, smile faltering slightly. "I'm... not sure..." "Would you stick around knowing I'm not the person you knew? Or are you just here to get them back?"

He doesn't know how to answer you, because of course he wants his version of you back... but would he just.. leave? He doesn't even know himself. "For now lets not worry about that, okay pips? I'm here now and that's all that really matters, we'll figure everything out eventually" You just nod, looking down and mumbling a small apology... well that's... sad. So anyways you finally make it back to the apartment, and head to your room to grab a basic outfit.

Xavier is STILL asleep- does this mf have narcolepsy??? Whatever, you grab your outfit and turn to go to the bathroom, you need a shower to think again, plus you smell like sweat.

The door to the bathroom is closed when you get there, you knock only to hear Rafayel telling you to come in. You walk in and OH MY STARS-

“OH- sorry didn’t realize you would be IN the bath- I can come back later I’m so sorry-“

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“No no it’s okay, did you need something?”

He’s asking with a slight tilt to his head. Dear gods man he is sculpted like a god, probably because he literally is one- STOP STARING.

You manage to snap yourself out of it, face absolutely red and looking down at the clothes in your hands.

“Sorry I was just trying to shower and get dressed- I can do so later-“

He’s sitting up in the bathtub, motioning for you to come closer.

“You can come bathe with me if you’d like? I don’t mind sharing.”

SIR?????? You are red as a lobster and I fear he is reveling in this fact— HOW IS HE SO CALM ABOUT THIS????

“No- that’s fine I’ll just… see myself out… thanks for the offer though”

You manage to mumble out, looking anywhere but at him and finally turning yer butt around to walk out. You hear him chuckle behind you and call out to you as you shut the door, playful as ever.

“Your loss Mx bodyguard!!”

TEASING MF. Ok anyways we need to find somewhere else to change it seems. So you opt to just shut yourself in the little closet and get changed. Xavier is still asleep in bed, which is kinda cute, he’s out like a ROCK. Honestly and earthquake could pass through and not much would happen I fear.

You wander around the place, Caleb, Zayne and Sylus are all out somewhere, Rafayel is in the bath and Xavier is asleep. There’s… not much to do.

You’re tired though and you slept on the couch, so you find yourself walking over to your room and climbing into bed opposite to Xavier.

You pass right out.

—————————————

Gang I’ll be honest, you could FEEL it falling apart at the end😭‼️

In my defense, it’s almost eight in the morning and I have not slept.

I wrote myself into a bit of a corner too since there’s like… nothing going on ‼️‼️‼️

I also do not know how to write seggsy time so I had to QUICKLY 180 from that.

Anyways I have ideas for another part, if people don’t burn me at the stake for being a crap writer I might add another part to this disaster LMAO

Okok yap session is over, thank you for reading this !! 🤩

Tag list ?!?! (Ask to be added 🤩)

@lunia-likes-pomegranet

[familyvideostevie]

tlou season 2 episode 6 thoughts PART 2

this is in 2 parts bc tumblr hates me. part 1 here

this post is...the bad stuff. :)

spoilers for tlou hbo and tlou part ii below

EPISODE 6: THE PRICE

BAD -some folks call this a gee tar. my god I'm so sorry but this "southern accent" kills me like christ above -the more i think about joel making her the guitar instead of him finding it and giving it to her, the more it bothers me. yes, him making it is really nice. but in the game, he finds the guitar and fixes it up, but it already has the moth inlay on the fretboard. to me, the moth starts there. on something he finds and gives to her. and then she finds herself attached to it -- drawing it, getting it as a tattoo, etc. (i think there is some story about how they decided to have the tattoo and the guitar match later in the process but don't quote me there). in this way it's something joel brings into her life and she makes it her own but then it also is attached to him -- a symbol of death. poetic, right? but here, joel sees the moth in her drawings and then puts it on the guitar. it no longer has anything to do with him. it means death and he's worried about it. i just -- i don't like this. i think it undermines the entire symbol. -let's talk about the 17th birthday flashback. i hated every single second of this. every single second. i have imagined how we get from ellie living with joel to her living in the garage a million times. she suggests it, he doesn't know how to ask her to stay so he lets her go, etc. i did not imagine it as a punishment (this fits with the HBO version of ellie this season tbf but still). punishment for...joel being kind of homophobic???? like, okay, being a parent is hard or whatever, and she was smoking weed and getting a tattoo and fooling around, but. come ON. was that NECESSARY. and the way he doesn't apologize? i just. man, idk who this man is. the only thing i did like is how he will let her go into the garage if he fixes it up. i have written that myself in a fic, lol. but, christ! i hated all of this. how angry he is, how much distance is between them but about other things. -too many flashbacks in general??? why??? 15th birthday, 16th birthday, 17th birthday, 19th birthday, 19 and 9 months for the Night Before. the pacing of this episode was wack as fuck and frankly, after watching s2 of andor and seeing how they did a flashback heavy episode (210 if you're curious) successfully? its like, how did you make this so choppy! -ellie going on her first patrol at 19 does explain why she's a fucking idiot most of the time this season -eugene flashback...okay. i've written scenes like this -- what happens when someone is infected, what happens if they come back, how does the community handle it. the progression of infection being more rapid in the show makes this harder, obviously, but i just do not get what we are showing here. is this meant to remind us that joel is cruel? or that he has a capacity for mercy that is a little warped? (very look at the flowers coded iykwim). obviously this is meant to tie us back to salt lake and joel's choice and we're meant to question his choices and who he is doing them for. but he's following rules. his mistake is lying again to ellie. in the strings flashback (which is the closest one to this content-wise) he lies to her again but about the same thing. and he has the whole i know you wish things were different. i wish things were different. but they ain't. but here he is just lying again about more stuff. and frankly? i get why he lies to gail - he was laying it on a little thick, but. and then. GOD. ELLIE throwing a TANTRUM and making eugene's death ABOUT HERSELF. insane timing, insane use of i swore. also tommy being there -- is this meant to parallel the cold open? other people seeing what joel is capable of and calling him on it? just like. ugh ugh ugh ugh

-okay, deep breath. the porch scene. the promised porch scene. they had me in the first half, i can't lie. her reapproach, the way it starts, the coffee convo. and then. then it goes fucking off the rails. first of all, it felt like it was from joel's pov? which is a weird choice to me -- the framing and the focusing really put us with him emotionally rather than ellie. which i get, since the flashback starts in his pov. but this scene is about ellie. so the way they rewrote this -- they're combining the salt lake city flashback from the game where she cuts off their relationship two years ago and the porch scene in the game, where they finally come back together.

obviously that has to change since they've changed the timeline here. but instead we get joel crying out of guilt? for what? i know this joel is softer than game!joel but come on. all of his emotions and his dialogue in this scene are just so...manipulative parent? crying cause he's upset that he's hurt her, saying I'll pay the price because you're gonna turn away from me. and then all that shit about him loving her -- saying that he loves her in a way she can't understand. and making this about parents and kids -- and then quoting his dad???? i just don't get what this was doing.

i don't see how THIS ellie can possibly move from i don't need your fucking help to i was supposed to die to i want to try. to have the reveal of the hospital in the same conversation as her forgiveness -- or the hope of it. it's just such WEIRD PACING. and then for her to say the stuff she does the next morning about her and joel being her and joel, and all of that. it's such uneven emotional processing and while it retains the tragedy it's like. just not working for me.

So, overall, i see that a lot of the things i don't like do actually work in the context of the writing and characterization we've been given for the show. however i don't like either of those things most of the time, so! :) the immaturity, the explosive anger, joel's worry and helicopter parenting. i just -- i was so ready to be on board but like. why are critics saying this is one of the best episodes. it was like a speedrun of the most important pieces of context we get. so, yeah. man, fuck. I'm so mad i hated it so much. UGH.

[clowns0up-felix]

HII YOUR ART IS THE TASTIEST THING EVER AND EVERY TIME U POST I ASCEND TO ANOTHER REALM OF EXISTENCE

and!! What tloz headcanons have u been thinking abt lately? If u wanna talk about some brainworms :D

THANK YOUUUU !! ^_^ it seems as though you found my hidden message of wanting to talk about my hcs ,, smirks well well well

There’s so many I think about every day ehhhh which ones do I even pick , I think I’ll go w the ones my last post showcased mostly? Which would be my tfh hc, uhmm .. was gonna talk about sheikxruto but I’ll do that in another ask..!

(Putting it under here vv bc kinda long lol)

Triforce hero but it’s Mural, Wolf and Mage: A while ago I was brainstorming w two friends about tfh and they really liked my idea that the 3 guys in the game were 3 links from the lm instead of Mural + copies of mural or mural + two random other guys, and together we chose Wolf and Mage! Tfh would be happening simultaneously to hw, hw being the reason wolf and mage are in murals world for it..! For mural it still would just be his normal timeline, having it after albw.

It’d be before the lm for all 3 so they don’t know each other at all and then get to meet again later yay! It’s not a super serious hc and just fun ^_^ i don’t remember why wolf got the emo haircut

They call each other Red Green and Blue during tfh I’d think ??

Some random small ones I like:

- at the end of hw Mask gives Linkle his Bremen Mask! She has and cherishes it all the years up until the lm where they meet again ^_^

- Malon and Sailor are related , just with really really much time between them

- Marin goes to Sailors era w him and Tetra after hw

- Ravio started to put a lot of research and money into magic after albw to figure out how to create portals between Hyrule and Lorule again ! (Which he succeeded in like, a few months later) ,, when the lm happens he and Mural are chilling together and he’s experimenting w some magic stuff and then Mural , for different reasons, gets ripped away and Ravio straight up thinks it’s his fault bc he was fucking around and found out lol

- Bunny writes letters to Marin about whatever currently bothers her, mostly about the yearning 🙄 she’s also btw a bard (idk if I’ve talked about this on the blog) and travels the land to spread music that come from her adventures,, especially Marin’s song yk the drill

- Bunny meets Ralph during the lm (which is b4 ooa so they’re strangers) by falling on him and breaking his right arm

- mural, rift, sunder, and mage all know the ballad of the wind fish because of bunny spreading and making it popular in her era! Marin herself was able to teach Mask, Captain, Sailor and Linkle the song during hw!! So a lotta links know it ^.^ Captain is tone deaf af tho so he can’t sing it. By the time it’s Sunders era the song has become a popular children’s lullaby :)))

- Sprout is missing two teeth currently (milk teeth that fell out)

- when Sunder and Zelda are 6-7 Zelda sneaks away into castle town where she meets link and they spend a few hours hanging out and having fun! Zelda at that time has bangs that keep falling into his eyes so Link gifts him her favorite blue hairclips that Zelda wears to this day ! (T4t Zelink if anyone’s confused about the pronouns)

- speaking of them after botw they have a little cucco den next to their house with 3 coccos that Clavia takes care of when they’re out of town

- Mural has a pet Remlit named Rupoor

- I MUSTVE mentioned this b4 but I can’t remember so I might repeat myself ,, Dawn has narcolepsy

- Picori idolizes the hell out of the hero of the sky, has been his biggest fan ever since he was a kid

- Mask has a childish fondness of bugs, other random things he loves are fishing and cheese

- mask has a super light dialect,,,, likeee the kokiri do speak hylian but just oh so slightly different (also way more somber yk) bc usually groups thatre separate from other people speaking a language won’t speak with the exact same dialect yk ,, Also would make him seem stranger bc he speaks hylian but there’s just something very VERY slightly different about how he pronounces things! Maybe he has some different words for things

- if sailor is approached from the right (can’t see bc missing eye) he can tell bc the wind tells him

- Captain always carries hidden weapons with him, like a knife in his boots or one under his pillow when he sleeps as examples

- Sailor once broke Captains nose in a play fist fight during hw

THATS ENOUGH FOR EVER ..

[bitters-n-sweets]

seize the moment — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader When a recurring patient returns to the ER after a medical scare, Robby is given another chance to finally ask her to stop running from what they yearned for

warnings: reader has a recurring illness that is unpredictable—i'm thinking epilepsy, but i have no history in medicine to fully dive in and accurately portray that in the fic, again, everything is googled. angst with happy ending. a/n: idk why writing robby is a challenge for me :)))) masterlist

[flashback]

"We can't do this, Robby," you say, "I can't do this to you."

"You're not doing anything, okay? I want to be here. With you."

"You don't know what you want!" You yell, "You have no idea, Robby. This will eat you alive—the anxiety, the worry, the helplessness—it will break you down, and you’ll hate me for it."

"And label me selfish," You bite back a sob, "but I really don't want you to hate me that way. Anyone but you. I'm sorry."

Robby didn't get a chance to say anything, you'd left him.

[present day]

Robby sighs, eyes dragging over the whiteboard. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but something feels off. The air’s heavy. His skin itches with a bad feeling he can’t shake.

Then the doors slam open.

"We’ve got a known seizure patient!" the EMT calls. "Post-ictal when we found her—had another in transit, two minutes, generalized. She’s still unconscious."

Robby’s head snaps up. He jogs toward the gurney—and stops cold.

"Fuck," he mutters, already moving again. "Trauma Five."

Dana catches sight of her. "Is it—?"

"Yeah," Robby breathes. "It’s her."

It's been four months since Robby last saw you. That last time, you’d had another episode, but he was buried in patients and never made it to your bedside before you were discharged. He knows you’ve been avoiding him — ever since you decided it was better to end things before either of you got in too deep.

Robby’s known you since his early years of residency. It was your first episode, and though he wasn’t the one to take your case, he sat beside you anyway — waited until you woke up, and offered you hospital pudding, the only decent food in the place. He didn’t know why he stayed, not really, but when your eyes finally opened and he saw how scared you were, unsure of where you were or what had happened, he was glad he had. And so were you.

You're stable. Vitals steady. There's nothing to worry about now — you just have to wake up. And Robby's been at your side the whole time, not moving an inch. He’s making sure you don’t slip away this time. Not again.

Robby sighs, his hand wrapped gently around yours. He remembers when the two of you first started flirting — how you used to call him the handsome doctor with sad eyes, and how he’d call you sweetheart. Because you were. Still are, at least to him.

There were moments when he nearly broke — when the weight of it all pressed too hard, when he couldn’t see the point, couldn’t see the light. He was ready to quit, ready to fuck all, walk out of this hellhole and never look back. But then he'd go to see you. And somehow, you were always there—willing to listen, to take in all his mess, his flaws.

Even with everything you were going through, you still smiled. Still lit up the room. You were his light. You still are.

Then Robby finally worked up the nerve to ask you out. Years later. You were—unfortunately—hospitalized again, but the silver lining was that it gave him the chance to ask if you’d be his girlfriend. You said yes, gleefully.

The two of you went on a few dates, sweet and slowly getting to know each other. But after a few months, reality started to sink in. You realized Robby couldn’t have a normal relationship with you. Your condition wouldn’t allow it — no roller coasters, no jump-scare horror movies, no late-night parties that bled into sunrise. None of the reckless, youthful things a guy his age was supposed to enjoy.

And Robby said he didn’t care. Said he didn’t mind missing out. But you’d heard him turn down one too many party invitations, brush off plans with friends like they were nothing.

You told him to go, insisted you were fine on your own. But he always chose you instead. Always.

You were grateful, truly. But the guilt sat heavy in your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if one day, he’d start to resent you for it.

That's when you broke up with him.

Robby lifts his head when he feels the faint twitch of your fingers. You’re stirring, slowly adjusting to the harsh hospital lighting as a groan escapes your throat.

"Hey," Robby calls out gently, "How are you feeling?"

You shift and can finally see who's hovering above you. The earthy, woody smell lets you know it's Robby right away. "Hey Robby."

"Hey sweetheart."

You want to scold him for calling you that, but you're still tired to do so.

"I'm here." He whispers.

And you look at him—really look at him—and wonder why he’s still doing this. Why he won’t let himself be happy. There are plenty of women out there who could give him everything he deserves. A simple life, a normal one. The kind that doesn’t come with unnecessary emergency room visits and fear tucked beneath every smile.

But he’s here. Still choosing you.

"You've been avoiding me."

"That, I have." You smile, guilty.

"And I'm still here for you. Always will."

"Robby—"

"Rest." He kisses your temple. "You're still recovering. We'll talk about this later."

You sigh as he steps out.

You're dischared a few hours later, and you try to sneak out without Robby catching you, but of course that's impossible.

As soon as you’re done changing and ease the door open, you bump right into a solid chest, and you hold your breath, knowing it's Robby. You don’t even have to look up to know his arms are crossed.

"Just gonna leave again?" He asks, visibly upset.

You wince and glance up at him, already forming some half-hearted excuse. "I didn’t want to make a scene."

"This isn’t a scene," he says. "This is me trying to talk to you. Something you’ve been avoiding for months."

You sigh and glance away, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. "Robby, don’t—"

"No. You don’t get to do that again," he cuts in, softer than you expect, but firm. "You don’t get to almost die, make me sit here all night thinking I’m going to lose you, and then walk out like none of it happened."

Your throat tightens. "It’s not fair to you."

"And you think just standing back, watching you go through this alone, not being able to hold you after—it’s somehow better?" His voice cracks. "You’re the reason I lose sleep, and the only thing that makes any of this feel worth it. That’s what you are to me."

You swallow hard, your gaze locked with his.

"Why won't you let yourself be happy?" Robby asks, and it hits you like a gut punch—for a second, you almost laugh at the irony.

You let out a breath. A long, shaky thing that trembles in your chest.

"It’s not that I don’t want to be happy," you say quietly. "I just… I don’t want you to end up hating me."

Robby flinches like the words hit harder than he expected.

You press on, voice barely holding steady. "People don’t stay. They try, at first. They say it doesn’t matter. That they can handle it. But then it gets hard—too hard. And they leave. And I get it, I really do. But I can’t watch you do that. I don’t think I’d survive it."

He’s silent for a moment, taking in everything you've said.

"I’m not them," he says. "I’ve seen what this looks like. The good days, the terrifying ones. I’ve been here for all of it. And I didn’t stay out of pity, or because I felt obligated—I stayed because I wanted to. Because I care about you in a way that doesn’t vanish when things get hard."

"So let me take care of you, okay?" His forehead nearly touches yours. "Let me be the one who’s there after nights like this. The one who holds you when it’s hard. I’m not here for the easy parts. I’m here for all of it."

"Are you sure?" Your eyes blur with tears, but you don’t look away. "Because I really don't want you to regret this—"

"Oh my god—"

Robby can't take it anymore and pulls you to him. The kiss is slow, making up for years of aching and near-misses. His hand cradles the back of your neck like you might vanish if he lets go, and you press closer, grounding yourself in him.

When you finally part, you're both a little breathless, foreheads touching.

"I’d rather fight for you than ever wonder what it would’ve been like to love you all the way."

[cupid-ghoul]

💜 THIS IS MY SKELETOUR/ HANNOVER RITUAL POST 💜

this post will be spoiler free because I just want to yap about my experience - since things weren't that great at times - and maybe post an outfit pic. the cut is just for aesthetic/space reasons. lmk if you also were in Hannover and what your experience was! xox

also fyi this post mentions fainting so if you're sensitive to reading that please be aware

okay so! the good things first: the ritual was SO fun and we had a great time. I really enjoyed the feeling of no phones, it gave me the freedom to fully be in the moment and not worry about ruining my/someone else's videos.

I really loved seeing the friends we made in 2023 again and this time hang out in a vacation appartment together! we had a great time and once the next tour rolls around we'll deffo do it again!! also going to a concert with 6 other people was a feat but it worked out so well haha.

the concert itself was absolutely fantastic and I even got the chance to give a bracelet and a silly picture I drew (it started as a joke but I'm not mad at the outcome lol) to dewdrop! In exchange he gave me a pick, which almost had me pass out ngl.

so here's my little haul of everything I took home ritual/merch/pop up store-wise

my bf actually made each one of us in our group a totebag??? he's insane and I love him very much! since I'm a princess he even made my totebag with the impera grucifix instead of the regular one! he also sewed the cape and wristcuffs for my outfit! what a man 😩💜

the pop up store was also really nice, even tho the best thing about it was probably the toilet, since it was the nicest one we had access to in the queue haha (we queued for 7 hours or so since last time we saw ghost that amount of time was necessary. however the Hannover ritual only had like 8k people, but yk gas station toilets aren't the most luxurious establishments).

we also got to trade bracelets, which also added to the experience and fun! I even gave a bracelet to the security guy that helped me when I was feeling faint during the encore after I got my dew pick. he was very excited and put the bracelet on right after getting it, which was SO cute. the security in the venue was so nice in general.

I'm just gonna slap my outfit pics here because the rest of the post won't be as light-hearted and fun. so if you saw me, no you didn't (jk). my fit was literally just me going "man I want to look like the impera bugs" so we made it happen 🥰 I felt very cute ngl.

I'm very glad that my overall ritual experience was so positive and even ended with me getting a pick from my favorite ghoul.

HOWEVER

with every great experience usually comes something not so great and in this case it was the venue and some people in the crowd. idk if anyone here (besides my bf - hi bestie!!) was also in Hannover but the organisation from the venue was awful.

the day before our ritual I called both the venue and the event company to make sure that the front of stage tickets had a separate entrance and queue, as was the case with probably all german tour stops. I was assured that this would surely be the case.

so when we as a group pulled up the next day NOTHING was set up, not even the gates or anything that would help to manage the queues/crowd. these gates would then be set up 1½ hours after our arrival and to the suprise of no one there wasn't a front of stage queue or entrance. the absence of anything remotely close to queue management left the crowd to basically manage itself, which went semi-well but tbf it could have been a lot worse. when I called the event company again, another employee told me that there wouldn't be a separate queue but that I should ask a security on site for more information.

which brings me to my next point.

THERE. WAS. NO. SECURITY. ON. SITE.

the weather was really sunny and while sometimes a little wind blew, the sun was pretty much beating down on the queues. we have queued for ghost before so we had water, food, and sunscreen on hand. once it got really rough we started scheduling breaks in the shade and little walks in smaller groups to not get sunstroke.

while we managed quite well to work through the heat/sun others didn't and we were "lucky" that only one person in the queue fainted. BUT due to the lack of security outside it was once again the crowd that had to take care of the person and alert the security that was inside the venue looking out through the doors. a lady had to hop over the gates to bang against the windows so get someone's attention. and when that finally happened, the security guy strolled our LEISURELY to "check out what was going on". it took almost 20 minutes till we had a paramedic on site.

leaving a crowd to manage itself in the heat and not having security at least walk around in regular intervals is extremely irresponsible and could have ended a lot worse.

sadly we also had a few people in the crowd that just weren't as nice.

the two highlights? lowlights? of that would be

- a person in front of us who kept farting 😭 there's even a tiktok about it from another person. it was really ... something.

and

- a guy came up to me and handed me a thong that had I love men in bands (in german mind you) printed on it. apparently he got it from someone else with the task to get it to the front of the stage and later thrown on stage. he was super relieved once he got rid of it and left super quickly, which I can't really blame him for. so I started the concert with a thong in my purse and I'm sorry if you're the person that made it and wanted it thrown on stage BUT we as a corner (me, my group, and the people around us) found it highly inappropriate to do so. if someone wanted it to go to the band directly they could have given it to the head of security. but throwing it was too much and there also wasn't really an option of passing it on, since a bunch of us found it super inappropriate and were uncomfortable with the situation. I might post the ghong at one point but idk.

so now the ghong is in my home and tbh I haven't decided what to do with it. the entire ghong experience was wild to say the least.

anyways this was my rant about my ritual 💜🥰 I still had an amazing time and I'm glad we chose to go as a group of friends. however we will not be going to any concert in Hannover again!

the divider used was made by @/saradika-graphics

[mee30p]

Don’t cry

a/n: I used @dixondisease inspo post I’ll link it here go check out them please they are an amazing inspo writer and I hope i did it justice <3

☽ summary: Daryl is frustrated from earlier events in the day when he says something he shouldn’t of and makes you cry.

☽ Warnings: swearing, calling reader names, crying

☽ Word count: short. I’m going to be so honest idk how many words

You didn’t mean to pry, you knew you shouldn’t have Daryl becomes explosive when overwhelmed but you wanted to know what was up his ass today. This resulted in you and Daryl being in an argument again. The fourth one today and it’s only 12:30 PM, Daryl’s had a stick up his ass all day today and it’s pissing you off.

“Come on D, just tell me what’s got you so pissed off?” Your voice is relativity calm, not accusing just worried and slightly tight as you approach him and place an innocent worried hand on his arm his back facing you. That’s when Daryl says something really stupid.

“Would you just fuck off woman? I don’t need your naggin’ ass pissin’ me off more than I already am!” Daryl yells as he pulls you off his arm and spins around to look at you. As soon as he said it he regretted it. Fuck he’s stupid. But he is just so overwhelmed, the new addition to the prison decided it was a good idea to leave the gate open resulting in a dozen walkers getting into the prison field leaving Daryl to clean it up.

His words hit you like a semi-truck, God you knew you were sensitive it wasn’t a secret to anyone. You cried yesterday over a joke someone made about your hair but this was different Daryl never said stuff like this to you. Before you could stop yourself tears well in your eyes and a small choked sob escapes your mouth. You turn your back to Daryl as you clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs coming from you as your shoulders shake and tears run down your face.

Regretting he even uttered a word in the first place Daryl rushes over enveloping his arms around you m from behind while you sob uncontrollably. trying to reverse his doing with soft whispers and peppered kisses on the back and side-of your head. “fuck m’ sorry baby don’t cry… please don’t cry” but it’s far too late you’re already sobbing at his biting words.

“Fuck… shit…. No baby don’t cry please… I didn’t mean it I promise” Daryl whispers as he panickyly kisses everywhere he can reach as he hugs you. Daryl then lets go of you to spin you around making you face him. God. You feel like a total cry baby, you’ve killed people before without shedding a tear but just a few mean words from Daryl you knew he didn’t mean and you’re a mess. Daryl pulls you into his chest his hands threading through your hair and he presses more desperate kisses to your face and head. “I know baby… I know I’m a dick.. I didn’t mean it… I love you” Daryl panics.

Your crying slows down and you sniffles wiping your nose on your winter coat before looking up at your man. You don’t say anything as you look up at the hunter with teary red swollen eyes you don’t need to. He knows he messed up big time.

“M’ sorry Darlin’ didn’t mean it… I promise I love you” Daryl says as he looks down at you pressing a long kiss to your lips.

[tokkiyuna-rkgk]

My finals had been done for a bit before you reblogged this. I am going to be back for summer semester soon.

No, thank you. I am too shy to ask and I rather not have someone ask for me either. I will simply just read what you've made instead. I also don't have enough interest atm to even bother translating each speech bubble. I mean, I do do that, but for manhwas or mangas that I am interested in. And it's like for 2 series only. 3, but the third one is on hiatus.

And omg, the translations for mangas and manhwas are stressful. But like I gotta know what happens, so I deal with it. I wonder if that's how people feel with Spanish (then again, Spanish is not a complicated language for the translating apps to get wrong. And obviously slangs don't translate well since the translations are too literal).

True, like I said, you do a wonderful job incorportating the worlds together. It ties together really well. I did always assume it was all in one world, but I only thought that since it seems the same people are the ones writing the series. Though, you put it well together and now if it turns out that GGMW isn't in the same universe then I am just going to ignore it :D

Better than me, I overrely on references still. I try not to though because overrelying on references tends to stop your creativity and lack of knowledge on how to draw on your own. Usually, you should be using the same steps for the art even if it's different colors. Since it seems the colors are just different? I don't draw much background, so I can't give hints here :((

I love that watercolor piece. It's my favorite. It's really good actually. I like how there isn't much negative spaces where the characters are at. Only in the sky. Which is good and the tall structure also makes up the negative space in the sky.

I'll do something for that art. I've been doing other artwork atm. Some you haven't seen and probably won't (I mean I posted it, but I don't wanna give out the acct. It relates to the fandom and my OCs).

The anime hidden part is really well done. It fits in really well with the color scheme. And ah I see. It does look like that now that I remember. Usually, you don't want to do that for sketchbook. But, you made it work and now I am thinking that you are a wizard.

Now that I read it, it makes sense why it was suhc a bad idea for me to read it during finals week.

And I will wait for you to make something first. Idk how to interpret it. I was going to draw something similiar to the Salar de Uyuni with a tree. It's more of to show both characters (and the tree). Do what you want with whatever I was thinking.

Yup def not a big Disney fan. Only newer movie I liked is Encanto. I have not kept up with them after that.

Hello :))

Here's a small sketch of Siwoo (Haven't drawn this man in ages)

A quick explanation of the sketch:

The Raliaen Mountain Crescent Base doesn't have a formal financial department or anything related to it. Aera has tried to ask for a financial department to be established, but the Central government told her that they can't spare any for her as her base doesn't need one. Aera knows that's a lie since she and Hyeonsik are stuck maintaining the budgets and resource allocation of the base. Eventually, Aera is unable to keep up due to higher number of suspected enemy spies being reported. Hyeonsik hates to do anything related to finance beause he hates money (long story). So, he just gives them to Siwoo who had studied a bit of accounting before. Siwoo is genuinely still confused on why he is given the documents. Hyeonsik does actually give Siwoo a bonus for doing them, so Siwoo can't complain.

One of many reasons Siwoo needs coffee.

[ramen8008]

Kaz would drag every one of the crows if they were stabbed during the attack when Inej was, or any other situation that had any of them get hurt.

Sure maybe not during the beginning (and even if it'd be because they were essential to the plan) but he would because that's his fucking family whether he admits it or not.

*Vin diesel voice* And Family is important

HERE ME OUT!

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

Jesper, Kaz is dragging him out of there whether it's Jesper's fault or not. He'll either full on fireman carry that man or support him using his shoulder insulting him with every step.

"You're an idiot for getting stabbed"

"what was I- then why are you helping me?"

"Don't take it personally, you're still in debt to me"

"fuck you"

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

Wylan, Kaz is throwing him over his shoulder or princess carrying him. Wylan does not like it, and somehow with his pain he still manages to voice his displeasure.

"I don't like this"

"you're not the first, nobody likes getting stabbed. I'd be surprised if you did"

"I mean you carrying me bridal style"

"you're dying and you still have the ability to be nitpicky? Pfft- merchants"

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

Nina, Kaz isn't leaving her behind, he's either one, supporting her by the shoulder like Jesper or two, also carrying her in bridal style.

"[slipping in and out of consciousness] huh, expected you to leave me for the dead. Awww you care"

"don't die on me, I swear if I'm carrying you to the ship with my crippled leg just for you to die-"

"how chivalrous of you"

"don't get used to it"

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

Matthias, pfft if you think Kaz is letting that guy go when he can do anything about it you've never been more wrong. Kaz is dragging that giant hunk of a man by any means necessary.

"couldn't let me be at peace could you?"

"I'm a demon, aren't I? Well, hell needs you for a little while longer"

"How are you even supporting me?"

"purely by will power and spite"

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[beets]

baby, bi bi bi

[i-may-be-an-emu]

random sfth screenshots I took recently

[protagonist-art]

"Uh- I'm Arnold. Bennett. It's profoundly difficult to get your lifes works and studies accepted if your name isn't... yes, oh! Are you a fan of moths, sir?"

NEW RDR2 OC!! a reclusive, clumsy entomologist and bug collector; cooped up in his study of uniformed clutter

[silent-sentinels]

i think it'd be cool to like. let other select plurals know we're plural without letting everyone know we're plural. like some kind of secret passphrase in our bio on main that only plurals used. limp wristing at the gays yknow.