#but i know he’d never let me

[scentofhydrangea]

snow days with fiancé!luigi would be slow and very domestic :(( when you wake up, he’s already awake and reading a bit in his book-of-the-month. you reach over to the bedside table to grab your phone to lay on his chest and scroll a bit, and he puts his book down to look at your feed with you. your friends are posting pictures of themselves in the snow from the night before, and shortly thereafter the two of you decide to suit up and go get in the thick snow for a bit!

you make a little snowman in the front yard of your small cottage-like house and take the most precious pictures of lulu with a pink nose and the biggest smile :’) snow is still steady falling and your dog nearly knocks luigi over a few times in the slick snow LOLLL

then after your makeshift photoshoot you’ll go back inside where it feels like a furnace compared to the chilly wind outside. you get back in bed for a while and lay there, just talking with your leg slung over his and arms intertwined around each others bodies hehehe

the rest of the day is slow; no household chores or work to be done on your computer!! the fireplace crackles as each piece of wood is thrown in to keep the fire alive and you just think about how lucky you are to have such a man to take care of you all the time :) he even cooks for you and brings you lunch in bed

night falls, and the intimacy begins. in front of the fireplace, lu has you sat on top of him in your pajamas and making out with you in the warmth of your quiet home. “just love you so much, cara mio,” he whispers, admiring you just as you are.

lulu feels so lucky that you’ll officially be his forever :( he knows he made a good choice!

[crowiin]

welcome to the world

[ovium-sheep]

I hate seeing people mischaracterize Jimmy’s obsession and bend it into some sort of “caring” for Curly. Jimmy may have cared for Curly at some point, but no where does he express any genuine sympathy or care towards Curly.

ONCE does he say he “understands” him, but that’s only because he took the place of Curly. The place he so DESPERATELY WANTED.

Everything Jimmy did was out of morbid obsession for his “best friend.” Jimmy doesn’t care for Curly. Jimmy literally physically abused Curly.

Folks who twist his gross idolization of Curly, did we even play/watch the same game? 🤨

[dykedvonte]

I think acting like Jimmy’s struggles on Earth were like legal or related to being a criminal are so odd. Not in a bad way but just odd.

Like don’t get me wrong, I personally believe he’s had a run in with the law but I feel like it’d be minor, not even something that would get him a record. It could’ve, but it was dropped, not worth the time to pursue someone that down on their luck, probably not a dime to his name.

He’s a bad guy don’t get me wrong but it’s seems like his issues were with not being well-adjusted? In the whole sense, he’s snarky and unnecessary rude. He’s quick to anger and says things to pit people against each other. He likely doesn’t have many friends and we know he’s not financially well. I think tacking on bad traits diminishes the fact of what he did. Trying to fit him to that obviously evil arch type is a little bland to what he actually is. He’s normal enough to be a minor blip on the radar and that’s how he gets away with what he does.

Jimmy is ultimately scared of being in trouble. He gets into it but panics. He hates being confronted and he just doesn’t do things were he knows or perceives a bad outcome will happen to him.

[banditblvd]

I just learned what a kelpie was today thanks to someone in a discord server I’m in sharing art of one, and then I remembered when he used that grass electricity trick thing in the Onawa country arc, and when bebo asked how he knew that he said “raising kelpies” and then I started thinking and you all know something is gonna happen when I think

This is what happened

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[zellink]

god it truly doesn’t even matter if link actually truly remembers his life before he died or not because he followed her voice even before he knew of his name, she is his true north and he has loved her in every lifetime, has loved her even from his mother’s womb. he’d bloody his sword and march into any battle so long as it’s done in her name. even if the mind doesn’t remember, the body does. and his body will always follow her.

[paimonial-rage]

Character Ask Meme

Lyney 14, 15 and 23

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

Would Lyney be honest with you?

With his outgoing and fun personality, it oftentimes is easy to get caught within his flow. Lyney is the charming sort, after all, that one may very well forget that he is subject to the same struggles as the rest. Get to know him well enough, though, and you will quickly realize that this is not a fact he wishes others to know. More than a desire, he needs to be seen as someone in control, as someone without weakness. That’s his role as the big brother. And if that means lying, avoiding, and omitting the truth to accomplish it, then as an accomplished performer he will do as he must.

Does Lyney prefer to pursue or be pursued?

With a penchant for flair and dramatics, it’s clear to see Lyney prefers to pursue the people he’s interested in. Really, it’s one of the things he goes all out. With a trick up his sleeve, he won’t hesitate to dazzle you with flowers pulled from nowhere and fireworks from his tophat. He wants you to be enchanted. He wants you to be impressed! You are, aren’t you? You like it, don’t you? So focused on charming you that he often loses sight of much else. Fun fact, should you attempt to turn the tables, however, you can expect his mask of self-confidence to fall to reveal a rather flustered expression beneath.

Headcanons under the cut!

Headcanons

Self-focused - If there’s one thing that’s true about Lyney, it is that he is a very busy person. As a person with multiple masks and roles, his thoughts are often preoccupied with House missions, performances, new tricks, and things of the like. So, much to the dismay of others, it’s easy for things to become buried under the multitude of other tasks he needs to take care of. How often the simple things become forgotten—where he last left his wallet, tea time with his siblings, the sale on picture books at the bookstore. During those times, he really can’t help but appreciate his siblings and their ability to keep him on track. Really, he doesn’t know what he’d do without them!

Relationship-focused - It doesn’t hit you at first, but it doesn’t take you very long to notice how hard Lyney tries for your relationship. Normally this would be a good thing, but it is different with Lyney. Every day he tries to charm you. Every day he attempts to enchant you. You tell him he doesn’t need to try so hard, but that only seems to light a fire beneath him to do even more. You see it in his eyes. He needs to know you are still in awe of him, that you like him as much as he does you. And then it sinks in, doesn’t it? He doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust your feelings for him. You’re not sure if he ever will.

[leonardalphachurch]

sometimes i remember that most north fans don’t write him as an absolute insane person ethical manipulative girlfriend style and i’m like. what is he even then… just a pleasant white man? you know what. more power to you if you need a pleasant white man for a blorbo but god that could not be me

[princess-starscourge]

You know I never got over Kaveh saying he didn’t have a right to interfere with/barge into his mom’s life (something along those lines) in his hangout event. That shit broke my heart. Like, that isn’t possible when you’re her fucking son 😭

[fizzytoo]

adrien and rua take amaya to meet rua's side of the family! rua's nephew, broderick, makes his introductions too!

[rare-agere-reverie]

I have a fanfic request for welcome home (if your don’t mind!)

Caregiver(s): Eddie Dear

Regressor(s): Wally Darling

Plot: Eddie is going back to his home after he finished his mail route and spots an overstimulated, regressed Wally trying to hide his regression. Eddie decides to help Wally.

Please and thank you! 👋😅

Woo my first fic for the blog and it’s my hyperfixation! Hope I did your idea justice anon 📬

Something to Hold

CG!Eddie Dear + Little!Wally Darling

“Here’s your mail, Julie!” cheerfully proclaimed Eddie. He pulled a primary-colored letter with a pawprint stamp from his bag. The rainbow monster joyfully took it from him.

“Thanks for the letter, Eddie,” she replied, “Can you play Magic Bakery with me?” The mailman froze a little, remembering the last time Julie played that game. Poppy’s kitchen needed an entire week of cleaning after her sugar potion erupted in a splash of batter.

“I’d like to, but I don’t think I’m up for it,” Eddie excused, his right hand scratching at the back of his neck.

“That’s okay, I bet Frank would love to play Magic Bakery,” reassured Julie confidently. “Bye Eddie! Hope your day’s fun!”

“I’ll see you later!” He tipped his hat as he strolled away. Feeling his hand around inside his mailbag, Eddie sighed freely when he didn’t touch a single letter. Now that his day’s work is done, his schedule is free. Maybe I should fold some paper butterflies; Frank would love that. How about I cut a ribbon of stars? I could even deliver it to Sally. 

Caught up in his thoughts, Eddie tripped over a pebble. Slight pain flared a bit as he landed face first on the grass. He propped himself up, only to spot something small behind the post office.

Huh, did someone leave a package? 

Eddie kept walking, then realized the figure was one of his neighbors. His steps slowed stealthily, as if worried about scaring the person off. Hiding around a corner of the building, the mailman realized it was actually Wally.

The small darling seemed quiet and tense, unlike his usual content self. His ascot hung loose around his neck, his cardigan unbuttoned and nearly falling from his shoulders, and his chest heaving unsteadily. In Eddie’s favor, Wally’s eyes are too trained on the apple in his hands to notice someone spying on him. A self-soothing behavior taking virtually no effect.

The taller friend’s worry only grew at the sight. What could’ve scared him so badly? …I finished my route; it wouldn’t hurt to take a break. A sporadic yet subdued burst of footsteps carried Eddie closer, alerting Wally of his presence.

“Hey Darlin’,” the concerned man sat beside the shorter, “do you need any help?” With a slight turn of the head towards his friend, Wally’s shaking pupils dragged themselves to meet Eddie’s gaze. 

“No,” he decided, his voice soaked in anxiety. A blatant lie, unfit for a usually happy friend and neighbor.

“Oh, Wally, it’s okay to ask for help,” Eddie soothed, reaching a hand out for the frazzled artist. The painter hesitated, glancing wearily between his apple and his friend’s palm. Said friend never stopped displaying such genuine affection, effectively winning Wally over. Wordlessly, one hand held the red fruit while the other hovered over Eddie’s hand. The mail carrier kept a loose yet secure grip, propped Wally up, and led him inside the post office.

For the most part, the inside sparkled with cleanliness; only a side table was littered with scrap paper from a previous crafts project. Eddie placed his hat and work bag on the wall hooks behind the reception desk, and let go of Wally in the process. Free to explore, Wally felt drawn to the table of leftover materials, eyeing every individual paper. When the off-duty mailman returned his attention to his friend in need, his confusion grew a little. After all, Wally’s tantalized by spare pieces of the paper crowns he made for Sally’s last play.

“What is it, Darlin’?” Eddie asked, joining Wally at the cluttered table.

“Red,” mumbled the yellow puppet, pointing at a pile of paper triangles with the same color. He thoughtlessly placed his apple on the table, and admired the differing shades between the maroon scraps and the scarlet fruit.

“That’s right; they’re both red,” awkwardly added Eddie. Despite his quiet exhale unknowingly releasing itself, he couldn’t stop thinking about the unfamiliar behavior unfolding next to him. I’m glad he’s feeling better, but something ain’t right.

“Gween,” Wally muttered, now pointing towards a couple of poorly-cut ovals. That certainly snapped the distracted mailman out of his thoughts.

“Green?” repeated Eddie, mental wheels finding enough courage to turn. Maybe he wants to distract himself with colors, he rationalized. At this apparent correction of pronunciation, the secretly-regressed little darted his eyes down to his fingers, which gently tapped on the table.

“Yeah, that,” spoke Wally, voice shy and small. It melted Eddie’s heart with melancholy, yearning for the artist’s happiness to return. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad, Darlin’,” affirmed Eddie, his words sweeter than any apples Wally had seen. “Just know I want to help you find your smile again, okay?” The regressor nodded confidently, his clear gaze fixed onto Eddie’s while his hands made a grabby motion towards the mail carrier.

“Oh! You want a hug?” Words escaped Wally; he could only repeat his grabby hands. “Aww, of course I will, Darlin’!” Protecting arms wrapped snugly around the little’s limp body.

Smiles on their faces, they stayed like that until Wally’s eyes slowly closed. Naturally, Eddie pulled out his Murphy bed and tucked the sleepy darling underneath soft blankets. As one of them napped, the other lovingly watched over them.

[tanjir0se]

Things about yesterday’s episode that also made me insane but I was too distracted by Sabito and Baby Giyuu to freak out about :

How endearing is it that when directly asked, Tanjiro (known walking Antidepressant) is uncertain of his ability to cheer someone up. Like little buddy. You looked at Genya the right way for 4 seconds and it fixed his whole shit. You’ll be fine

Him waiting outside Giyuu’s house and just not giving up on him. Giyuu being so unfamiliar with kindness he straight up thought he heard Tanjiro wrong when he said he was coming in

Tanjiro sitting damn near knee-to-knee with him. Giyuu staring at his knees like *internally* personal space personal space personal sp

SHINOBUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Honestly I was never huge on her character and felt kinda like I was forcing myself to like her because she’s a rare female character in the show but I always liked Mitsuri better

UNTIL I SAW THAT EYE TWITCH. LIKE OK MISS GIRL WE ALL NEED A LOBOTOMY SOMETIMES 💖

But fr the potential for some female rage here is off the CHARTS. Sanemi please grab her by the shoulders like ‘ARENT YOU TIRED OF BEING NICE? DONT YOU JUST WANNA GO APESHIT?

[quietwingsinthesky]

there’s a progression in there, somewhere, of even going from ‘the master might kill me any day now :(‘ to ‘the master is going to kill me :) she’s not going to let someone else do it after all this time’

[shima-draws]

Just got back from my friend’s wedding :’) I think it says a lot that I was the only high school friend that showed up

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 64

Chapter; Highlights

Hours later, Yrene was still shaking.

At the disaster they'd narrowly avoided, at the deaths she'd witnessed before that wave had struck, at the power of the queen on the plain. The power of the prince who had prevented the ensuing steam from boiling alive any caught in its path.

Yrene had thrown herself back into healing during the chaos since. Had left the royals and their commanders to oversee the aftermath, and had returned to the Great Hall. Healers drifted onto the battlefield, searching for those in need of help.

All of them, every single person in the keep or the skies or on the battlefield, kept glancing toward the now-empty gap between two mountain peaks. Toward the flooded, decimated city, and the demarcation line between life and death. Water and debris had destroyed most of Anielle, the former now trickling toward the Silver Lake.

A vision of what would have been left of them, were it not for Aelin Galathynius.

She'd been asked to inspect the queen when she'd been carried in to a private chamber by Prince Rowan, the two of them borne off the plain by Nesryn. Yrene hadn't been able to stop her hands from shaking as she'd hovered them over Aelin's unconscious body.

There had been no sign of harm beyond a few already-healing cuts and slices from the battle itself.

Nothing at all beyond a sleeping, tired woman.

Who held the might of a god within her veins.

Yrene had then inspected Prince Rowan, who looked in far worse shape, a sizable gash snaking down his thigh. But he'd waved her off, claiming he'd come too near a burnout, and just needed to rest as well.

So Yrene had left them, only to tend to another.

—

To Lorcan, whose injuries ... Yrene had needed to summon Hafiza to help her with some of it. To lend her power, since Yrene's had been so depleted.

The unconscious warrior, who had apparently tumbled right off Farasha as he and Elide had passed through the gates, didn't so much as stir while they worked on him.

That had been hours ago. Days ago, it felt.

Yes, she needed to rest.

But a horn, clear and bright, blared from outside.

Everyone halted-then rushed to the windows. Yrene's smile grew as she, too, found a place to peek out over the battlefield.

To where the rest of the khagan's army, Prince Kashin at its front, marched toward them.

Thank the gods. Everyone in the hall muttered similar words.

From the keep, an answering horn sang its welcome.

Not just one army had been spared here today, Yrene realized as she turned back to the water station. If that wave had reached Kashin.

…

Lucky. They had all been so, so very lucky.

Yet Yrene wondered how long that luck would last.

If it would see them through the brutal march northward, and to the walls of Orynth itself.

Lorcan let out a low groan as he surfaced from the warm, heavy embrace of darkness.

"You are one lucky bastard."

Too soon. Too damn soon after hovering near death to hear Fenrys's drawl.

Fenrys's smirk was a slash of white.

"You've been out for a day. I drew the short stick and had to look after you."

A lie. For whatever reason, Fenrys had chosen to be here.

Lorcan thumped his head back on the pillow. "Elide." Her name was a rasp on his tongue.

The last he remembered, they'd ridden through the gates, Aelin Galathynius's unholy power spent. Then oblivion had swept in.

"Helping with the healing in the Great Hall," Fenrys said, stretching out his legs before him.

Lorcan closed his eyes, something tight in his chest easing.

"Well, since you're not dead," Fenrys began, but Lorcan was already asleep.

Lorcan awoke later. Hours, days, he didn't know.

The candle was still burning on the narrow windowsill, down to its base. Hours, then.

He didn't care. Not when the dim light revealed the delicate woman lying facedown on the end of his cot, the lower half of her body still on the wooden chair where Fenrys had been. Her arms cradled her head, one outstretched toward him. Reaching for his hand, mere inches from hers.

Elide.

Her dark hair spilled across the blanket, across his shins, veiling much of her face.

Wincing at the lingering ache in his body, Lorcan stretched his arm just enough to touch her fingers. They were cold, their tips so much smaller than his. They contracted, pulling away as she sucked in a sharp, awakening breath.

Lorcan savored every feature as she grimaced at a crick in her neck. But her eyes settled on him. She went still as she found him staring at her, awake and utterly in awe of the woman who had ridden through hell to find him ...

Tired. She looked spent, yet her chin remained unbowed.

Lorcan had no words. He'd given her everything on the back of that horse anyway.

But Elide asked, "How do you feel?" Aching. Exhausted. Yet finding her sitting at his bedside... "Alive," he said, and meant it.

Her face remained unreadable, even as her eyes dipped to his body. The blanket had slid down enough to reveal most of his torso, though it still hid the scarred-over wound in his abdomen. Yet he'd never felt so keenly naked.

It was an effort to keep his breathing steady beneath her sharp-eyed gaze. "Yrene said you would have died, if they hadn't gotten to you when they did."

"I would have died," he said, voice like gravel, "if you hadn't braved hell to find me." Her gaze lifted to his. "I made you a promise."

"So you said."

Was that a hint of color stealing across her pale cheeks? But she didn't balk. "You said some interesting things, too."

Lorcan tried to sit up, but his body gave a burst of pain in protest.

Elide explained, "Yrene warned that though the wounds are healed, some soreness will linger."

Lorcan gritted his teeth around the sharp stab in his back, his stomach. He managed to get onto his elbows, and deemed that progress enough. "It's been a while since I was so gravely injured. I'd forgotten what an inconvenience it is."

A faint smile tugged on her mouth.

His heart halted. The first smile she had given him in months and months. Since that day on the ship, when he'd touched her hand as they'd swayed in their hammocks.

Her smile faded, but the color on her cheeks lingered. "Did you mean it? What you said." He held her stare. Let some inner wall within him come crumbling down. Only for her. For this sharp-eyed, cunning little liar who had slipped through every defense and ironclad rule he'd ever made for himself. He let her see that in his face. Let her see all of it, as no one had ever done before. "Yes."

Her mouth tightened, but not in displeasure.

So Lorcan said softly, "I meant every word." His heart thundered, so wildly it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. "And I will until the day I fade into the Afterworld."

Lorcan didn't breathe as Elide gently reached out her hand. And interlaced their fingers. "I love you," she whispered.

He was glad he was lying down. The words would have knocked him to his knees. Even now, he was half inclined to bow before her, the true owner of his ancient, wicked heart.

"I have loved you," she went on, "from the moment you came to fight for me against Vernon and the ilken." The light in her eyes stole his breath. "And when I heard you were somewhere on that battlefield, the only thing I wanted was to be able to tell you that. It was the only thing that mattered."

Once, he might have scoffed. Declared that far bigger things mattered, in this war especially. And yet the hand grasping his ... He'd never known anything more precious.

Lorcan ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "I am sorry, Elide. For all of it."

"I know," she said softly, and no regret or hurt dimmed her face. Only clear, unwavering calm shone there. The face of the mighty lady she was growing into, and had already become, and who would rule Perranth with wisdom in one hand and compassion in the other.

They stared at each other for minutes. For a blessed eternity.

Then Elide untangled their hands and rose. "I should return to help Yrene."

Lorcan caught her hand again. "Stay."

She arched a dark brow. "I'm only going to the Great Hall."

Lorcan caressed his thumb over the back of her hand once more. "Stay," he breathed.

For a heartbeat, he thought she'd say no, and was prepared to be fine with it, to accept these last few minutes as more of a gift than he'd deserved.

"Say it," she whispered, fingers stilling in his hair. Lorcan opened his eyes, finding her gaze. "I love you."

"Yrene said you might always have this," she said, her hand mercifully falling away.

"Then it will be the scar I treasure most."

Fenrys would laugh until he cried to hear him speak this way, but Lorcan didn't care. To hell with the rest of them.

Another one of those small smiles curved her lips, and Lorcan's hands tightened in the sheets with the effort it took not to taste that smile, to worship it with his own mouth.

But this new, fragile thing humming between them ... He would not risk it for all the world.

Elide, thank the gods, had no such worries.

None at all, it seemed, as she lifted a hand to his cheek and ran her thumb along it. Every breath was an effort of control.

Lorcan held absolutely still as she brought her mouth to his. Brushed her lips across his own.

She pulled back. "Rest, Lorcan. I'll be here again when you wake."

Anything she asked, he'd give her.

Anything at all.

Too shaken by that soft, beautiful kiss to bother with words, he lay back down.

But until then, he wanted her here. Sleeping at his side, where he might watch over her. As she had watched over him.

Elide seemed to read that on his face, and her cheeks reddened further. "Later, then," she breathed, limping to the door.

Lorcan sent a flicker of his power to wrap around her ankle. The limp vanished.

A hand on the knob, she gave him a small, grateful nod. "I missed that."

He heard the unspoken words as she disappeared into the busy hall.

I missed you.

Lorcan allowed himself a rare smile.