#cus i didn't want you guys to think i hadn't seen it :)

[altruistic-meme]

Rules: Make a poll with five of your all time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favourite.

i was tagged by @zerogender-onlyswag and also both @the-viola-urge-to-be-cesario and @kevin-day-is-bi like literally a month and a half ago sdkhgsdg IM FINALLY DOING IT HI I LOVE YOU GUYS THANK YOU MWAH <3

trying to think of blorbos who have entirely and completely consumed my soul is sooo hard cus there are so many i didn't list too ughhhh honorable mentions to Ash Lynx (Banana Fish), Hinata Shoyo (Haikyuu!!), and Crowley (Good Omens) for being some of my biggest comfort characters!!!! where would i be without them!!!!!

i have no idea who has or hasn't been tagged in this ouhhhhh @zee-has-commitment-issues @insomnaticwriter @missmeganlee @recordmcqueen and @irregularcollapse if you guys haven't done it yet and want to join in!

[quitealotofsodapop]

(the monkey and the infant post)

I guess now Li Jing has another reason to wear white.

Also is it wrong that I can see Jing making Nezha’s cut hair into a little poppet he keeps with him?

Ref.

omg

and I just realised! As a former mortal; Li Jing would have no context for what Nezha's sentence entails! He probably thought; "Banished to the mortal realm" = "new incarnation". He legitimately goes through the grief of losing his youngest son twice!

It's only when a game of Jianzi gone-awry sends a familiarly-smoking shuttlecock into the celestial realm that Li Jing learns that his third son is alive!

"Mr Qi Wu" has a rather surprising visitor at the restaurant just as he's helping prepare for the dinner rush. Pigsy at first thinks the man is an in-land tourist and asks politely if

Li Jing: "Sun Wukong, do you know where my son is?" Wukong, still trying to lay low: "Hahaha! You mean Muzha or Jinzha? Cus they're usually where they-" Li Jing, pulls out jianzi shuttlecock: "Do not misdirect me, ape! There is only one person I know in this entire earth who plays jianzi so enthusiastically!" Wukong, embarrassed: "Ah. Chang'e called you too, huh?" Li Jing, regains composure: "She did. She learned of my mourning and alerted me when she discovered the shuttlecock." Wukong, confused: "Mourning?" Li Jing, keeping cool: "I... I had not understood what the Jade Emperor had meant when he exiled Nezha to the Mortal Realm. It is only very recently that I learned that he hadn't... that he is on earth as he was." Wukong, realising: "Oh dang, and the big guy didn't tell you? Heck, Nez is ok! He's just uh... not exactly how he was." Li Jing, barely concealed joy: "Truly!? Where is he? I must speak to him!" Macaque, walking past with a baby: "Probably at school. He usually gets home around four." Li Jing: "School???"

Li Jing waits around like statue in the restaurant until a gaggle of demonic secondary-schoolers walk in under the dividing curtain.

One of whom has an unglamoured face he has not seen in millennia.

Li Jing: "Wanzi?" "Nez", in his lotus-snake demon form: "Father!?" Demon Classmates: "Your dad calls you meatball?" "My mom calls me dumpling. It's not weird." "Your dad is tall as heck, Nez."

"Nez's" classmates leave quickly, sensing that a personal conversation is in-coming, and hope to see him at school tomorrow.

Li Jing and his son have a lot to talk about...

Namely the fact that Nezha... seems to be happy. Happier than he had been at that age many eras ago.

He's going to school. Making friends. Playing sports (albeit often forgetting his own strength). Going home to a warm meal and a baby sibling to help tend to.

Li Jing wonders if he should have ever interrupted. But he needs his son to know how relieved he is to know that he's alive. Nezha is genuinely surprised by his father's rare show of emotion - had his banishment really been that traumatic?

Li Jing leaves the jianzi piece with his son as a memento - a reminder to carefully monitor his strength, but to remember that he is still ultimately someone who is still growing up.

The Pagoda King makes a deal with the monkeys and their mortal protectors to share "Nez's" milestones with him. He doesn't want to miss a thing. Not like before.

Li Jing still holds the poppet made from Nezha's hair - the same shorn by the Jade Emperor's blade. He keeps it close to his heart. But he'd never let anyone know about it.

Unless a certain villain takes it from him to taunt him...

[bugwolfsstuff]

The dead must return to the grave.

Was thinking about how underused the whole dead coming back plot was in HoO

So that caused me to think of dead characters from the first series returning and just hanging out on the Argo, and helping in anyway they can.

But then I thought about what will happen when they have to go back. So I thought of them knowing that Thanatos is coming to collect them and spending the day hanging out with the seven and saying goodbyes.

Which spawned this thing, originally it was going to be Luke instead of Castor but I think Luke can die alone, cus fuck that guy.

And I have a stupid headcanon that the Dionysus twins and Annabeth had a Rivals to friends to basically siblings type of thing going on. (the rivalry was over Chiron)

So I wrote this in two hours. So go easy on me i know its probably out of character for Annabeth.

"Beth," Castor whispered.

Annabeth turned away from the bedroom door, "Yeah?".

There was a beat of silence.

 "Will you stay with me?" Castor asked finally, "I'm scared."

Annabeth wanted to leave. She didn't want to have to watch another brother figure die. But hearing his small, scared voice convinced her. She couldn't leave him to die alone.

"Sure Cast." She whispered, lying down next to him on the soft mattress. Her grey eyes met his purple ones. She hadn't noticed before, but grape vines had grown in his hair the way they usually did when he or Pollux was stressed.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug like they used to do when they were younger. He pushed a stray blonde hair from her face.

"Thank you," Castor whispered.

"Anytime, Cast," She said, though her voice cracked with emotion.

"You know what I wish I could have done before I go?" 

"What?"

"I wish I could have seen the camp again." 

Annabeth felt a lump form in her throat, " I'm sorry, Castor," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Castor smiled weakly, his breathing becoming more ragged. "It's okay, Beth. I'm just glad you're here with me."

A tear ran down Annabeth's cheek. She would do anything to keep him here: to bring him back to camp, back to his family, back to her, but she knew better than anyone that you couldn't fight Death.

"Promise me something." Castor whispered, "Or more two somethings," He cracked a weak smile.

"Anything Cass." Her voice cracked with emotion. The tears started to run freely now.

"Promise me that you'll take care of Viney. Plant him in camp for me." He pointed to a potted plant on his bedside.

"I promise." she said, "What's the second something?"

Castor's eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing slowed. 

Annabeth's heart stopped, "Cass," she said, shaking the son of Dionysus, "Cassie," She said, shaking him harder now.

Castor's eyes flickered open, "Sorry, Owlbrain, fell asleep there." 

Annabeth laughed tearfully. He and his twin, Pollux, had made up the name for her when they first met when they were 'rivals'. It all seemed so childish to her now.

She wiped a tear from her cheek with her sleeve, "What's the second thing, Cassie?" she asked.

"Promise me, I won't see you or Pollux there until you're both old." 

"I promise, Castor"

"Pinky promise?" He laughed weakly, extending his pinky finger to her.

"Pinky promise." She said, entwining her finger with his. It was just a silly, childish gesture, but to them, it was more sacred than the Styx.

He pulled her close, enveloping her in a tight, grape-scented embrace. She sobbed freely in his arms, all her bravery leaving her. He stroked her blonde curls soothingly. He told her old stories of the stuff they got up to when they were younger, memories she hadn't let herself think about in years. 

They stayed that way for what must have been hours, the soothing rocking of the Argo rocking them to sleep.

.....

Castor was gone in the morning. A withered pile of leaves, where he had laid the night before, were the only proof that he had been there.

Annabeth Chase sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the leaves. She silently stared at the potted plant on the bedside, not daring to pick it up. A thought came to her mind: the second last line of the prophecy: 

An oath to keep with a final breath.

The final breath was Castor's, and like hell, was she going to keep that oath.

For her brother, Castor Chardonnay.

------

The end.

Who were silent because they saw the empty beds of the other guys who went back to the Elysium.

Funny story I was going to have this end with a more bitter ending by Annabeth going out to sit at the dining table with the rest of the seven

So it just ends with them sitting their in silence, to shocked to say anything.

Thankfully i chose a much more bittersweet ending.

Also as for what will happen to Viney the plant during BoO when the argo gets destroyed.

I had a scene in mind where right before Zeus whacks the argo back to CHB she rushes to then plant and hands it to mr D (why the fuck was he not there in the actual canon fight).

And one last thing before i go-

Should i post this on Ao3 too?

[ro275805]

(Holly crap i still can't believe my favorite tumblr replied to my answer)

I kinda have a lot of headcanons for joker.

Another one i have is that joker has cousins, it felt weird that we never seen any family member besides his parents, so that's where i got it from. They're like besties so when joker was declared missing as a kid of course it's heat shattering to his entire family. Until they're like older (maybe around his age but one of them is adult and have a family?) They started to speculate that joker is jack, their cousin.

Also, i realized i once headcanon that his grandpa has a rough relationship to all his family, especially joker's. Cus he doesn't approve his dad's marriage with his mom.

I still want them to reunite, so maybe captain blue (if you remember that guy) started a conversation with joker and akai (don't ask why i put him there, i don't know either) about his grandpa and stuff

Blue: that's basically about him, how about you? Is he still around?

Joker: i don't know, i didn't get to meet him for years, not even the rest of my... Family.

Blue: ... Meet them now.

So that's basically why he decides to reunite with them... Well not really but uhm.

Hello! If you mean my blog, I'm incredibly flattered, wow... thank you! It's just me posting some drawings and simple thoughts from time to time. I wasn't sure if anyone would really appreciate my KJ scenarios, but I'm very thankful that at least a few people do. My ideas are not for everyone as the things I explore tend to veer more towards dark and offputting premises and exploration of morally grey character psychology (I especially love to explore this in 'good' characters). Still, I have many more things to share, and I hope you might enjoy those scenarios eventually, too. ^^ (My creation process is just extremely slow unfortunately) As for your idea... I've explored Joker potentially having more family, too! This is one of those anime protagonist things that I've otherwise shrugged off, you know how families outside of mother and father don't usually get talked about... one time I explored the idea that Joker had actually been adopted at a very young age, or that there was some kind of secret in the family that Jack would really never know about, maybe in relation to the time-telling goddess, where their family was very secretive and disconnected.

I really, really like the idea that Lupin is Joker's ancestor too, so their entire family is just full of all sorts of secrets. If you're curious about this, I've gone more in-depth here.

I wonder what Joker thinks about all of these secrets and odd little things that he only identifies in retrospect once he gets older? Time naturally fades his memory, but certain things that went right over his head suddenly don't seem as simple as they once were... Did Joker actually ever know his family? If his mom and dad hadn't been taken from him at such a young age, would they have told him more about themselves later on?

I think once he reaches an age where he begins to have these realizations, he would go through a more subtle second wave of grief.

---

But if Joker found out that he had living family, especially if he finds this out when he's older and already a well established phantom thief... What does he think about in such a circumstance? I think his initial reaction is disbelief, because of how many people there are who would want to deceive him. But beyond this, I feel like his reaction wouldn't be as simple as just him being overjoyed once he's convinced it isn't trickery.

Of course Joker is happy.

...But another part of him, the part who thought that he had 'moved on' from that chapter of his past, is terribly conflicted. He went through the steps already. He grieved and moved on and came out stronger.

But now he has family again?

With family comes emotional obligation and also the stress of protecting that family, of the potential grief of losing that family... of connecting with that family being dangerous with his way of life, where hundreds of people would be incredibly happy to hear that 'Phantom Thief Joker' has something that can be used as blackmail. He puts that family at risk.

It's never as simple as being 'overjoyed'.

Not when you're also a boy who's grown up with complicated feelings on emotional vulnerability, where being too vulnerable or too personal is far too uncomfortable, and being too emotional risks him developing weaknesses that will get him killed on heists. (I've talked about this before but I mention it a lot because of how much I think this impacts so much of Joker's actions and his personality, especially with how thoughtless he can be with people around him).

I think that Joker might find his own conflicted emotions offensive to even himself... where he wonders what's wrong with him to some extent, not being totally happy that he has surviving biological family.

What kind of person would he have to be to think that that's a pain, in any way?

Joker isn't the type to dwell on things but he'd stew in it ever so slightly.

For him, family is a more sensitive topic than any other.

[redundant2]

I watched the Anderson Cooper 60 Minutes interview with Harry Markle - with transcript.

And I found this part very interesting.

I think the dog bowl Fight Club moment between William and Harry took place when William came to confront Harry about the reports of Harry and Meghan bullying staff. Harry's body language, facial expressions and chosen words are very interesting. I've cued up the video at the start of this segment.

Here's the transcript of this part of the interview:

"In early 2019, Harry writes that the rancor between William and him exploded at Harry's Cottage on the grounds of Kensington Palace.

AC: Your arguments with your brother became physical.

H: Um, it was a buildup of frustration, I think, on his part. It was at a time where he was being told certain things by people within his office and at the same time he was consuming a lot of the Tabloid press, a lot of the stories. And he had a few issues, which were based not on reality. And I was defending my wife and he was coming for my wife, she wasn't there at the time, but through the things that he was saying, I was defending myself and we moved from one room into the kitchen and his frustrations were growing and growing and growing. He was shouting at me, I was shouting back at him. It wasn't nice, it wasn't pleasant at all. And he snapped, and he pushed me to the floor.

AC: He knocked you over?

H: He knocked me over. Um, I landed on the dog bowl.

AC: You cut your back.

H: Yeah, I cut my back. I didn't know about it at the time but um, yeah. He apologized afterwards. It was a pretty nasty experience

AC: But he asked you not to tell anybody, not to tell Meghan.

H: Yeah, and I wouldn't have done. I didn't until she until she saw on my back. She goes, "What's that?" I was like, "Uh, what?" I actually didn't know what she was talking about. I looked in the mirror, I was like, (Mouths 'Ohhh shiiiiit!) Well, because I'd never, I hadn't seen it.

--End transcript--

Must not have been a very big or painful injury if he didn't notice it until his wife saw it. I mean, if you showered regularly, you'd probably feel the water hit the injury, or see it in the bathroom mirror, yes?

Watch Harry's face carefully when he says William " was being told certain things by people within his office and at the same time he was consuming a lot of the Tabloid press, a lot of the stories. And he had a few issues, which were based not on reality."

Look how his eyes dart, how he looks down, how he quickly glosses over what William came to discuss. He doesn't want to get into detail here, because the isue that started the brothers' confrontation does NOT make Harry and Meghan look very good.

Clearly William was confronting Harry about the bullying both Harry and Meghan were accused of doing. And Harry is trying to blame the tabloid press for influencing his brother's justified mistrust in Harry's wife. He can't for one second EVER consider that he or his wife might be accountable for their own actions, or that there is a possibility that they may have done something questionable. The blame always has to lie with someone else.

If one is charitable, one might think, "Ok, this guy isn't the brightest, and he's clearly been traumatized for his whole life about his mum dying and having to deal with his grief in the world spotlight." Then you add in the substance abuse, and the fact that he's clearly been excused and coddled and enabled his entire life. then you factor in the entrance of a woman who sees him as a walking wallet who she can manipulate to achieve her own fantasies of being a millionaire superstar - here you have the perfect witches' brew of a toxic trashcan fire of epic proportions.

This isn't going to end pretty.

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 9)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5) (chapter 6) (chapter 7) (chapter 8)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut (semi-public fingering, specifically), angst... I think that's it

After your impromptu motorcycle drive you stayed out all night; exploring the empty city, ducking into dive bars if they were still open, dancing in the streets to music only the two of you could hear.

The city was so eerily empty at night, nothing like a metropolitan complex like London. But it was less creepy and more peaceful, especially when you were walking with Sebastian hand-in-hand along the cobblestone path. He started to swing your hand as you walked and it made you laugh.

“Teach me more Romanian words, please,” you requested, looking at him and struggling to fight your smile. “Română?”

“Eu voi,” he nodded, looking around and pointing to the ground. “Stradă.”

“Stradă... we call it the street,” you answered. “Or road. Road?” you prompted.

“Road,” he repeated.

“Good! Your pronunciation isn’t too bad either,” you grinned.

“Copac,” he announced as he pointed to a tree.

“Copac,” you repeated. “In English, it’s tree.”

“Tree,” he smiled. “Engleza este o prostie.”

He suddenly pulled you into him and spun you around in a twirl, making you laugh. “Dans,” he said as he stepped his feet in time with yours. “A dansa.”

“Yeah, dancing,” you smiled. “I haven’t danced in years, you know, except for tonight.”

He surprised you with a sudden kiss that was unexpectedly chaste, just a press of his lips on yours that either lasted longer than it normally would or just slowed time for a moment. “Sărut,” he whispered when he pulled back.

”Sărut,” you repeated.

“Aș putea să te sărut ore în șir. Ai cele mai perfecte buze,” he breathed, running his thumb over your bottom lip which had gone slack just from listening to him talk.

Your fingers trailed down over the portion of his chest exposed by his unbuttoned collar. “I didn’t know I could feel this way about somebody,” you admitted aloud to yourself. “I wish I could stay…”

His hands lifted your face to look up at him. “Nu face asta. Nu te mai ascunde în gândurile tale. Fi cu mine.”

“Sărut?” you requested, making him grin.

“Da, iubirea mea,” he cooed as he leaned in and kissed you again, smiling into it.

You really hadn't even liked kissing all that much before you met him… you just hadn't seen the appeal beyond warming up to more exciting activities, but now? This was all the excitement you needed; you could kiss him for hours and never get bored.

That said, apparently Sebastian had exciting plans of his own, because you found yourself being backed up against a brick wall, his hands exploring your body— subtle at first, just rubbing your arms and gripping your waist, but then it got less ambiguous as you felt his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, just barely grazing over your stomach.

His touch trailed higher, nearly reaching your breast but stopping just before: you didn't mean to whine impatiently, but you heard it muffled against his lips and felt him chuckle lightly, breaking the kiss and leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"Atât de nevoiași," he hummed, nibbling on your earlobe as your thighs clenched together much too strongly when he'd barely touched you.

You clutched at his shirt, watching as his hand moved down to the top of your pants, the tips of his fingers just barely breaching past the fabric and starting to slide down.

"Here?" you gasped, finally remembering you were in public though you hadn't seen another person out here since you left the bar.

His hand moved lower down and your stomach fluttered with the forbidden nature of it all, feeling like a rebellious high schooler fooling around behind the movie theater when you both had curfew in ten minutes. But then he found your clit right away and it was nothing like high school.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, shuddering and pushing your hips up to silently beg for more. He rubbed circles over your bud and smiled against your neck, already making it a struggle for you to stay quiet.

“Un alt cuvânt pe care ar trebui să-l știi,” he whispered, the pitch of his voice making it clear he was saying something beautifully filthy, “este dracu. Vreau să te dracu.”

“Seba, please,” you sighed.

"Dar nu cred că o pot face aici," he added with a soft laugh.

Two fingers suddenly pushed into you and didn't seem to struggle with it at all since he already had you soaked, curling into a tender spot inside you right away.

“Yes,” you whined.

“Yes?” he repeated with a smirk.

“Yes,” you said it again, “fuck yes.”

“Fuck,” he laughed, the word that was so familiar to you almost sounding foreign when he said it. “Spui asta mult. Cred că asta înseamnă că vei veni.”

“Your fingers feel so good,” you moaned, barely enough air in your lungs to get the words out. "Please… please don't stop…"

He kissed you again, open-mouthed and desperate as you both breathed heavily, his tongue sliding against yours as if to taste your moans. Hoping to stay upright now that your knees felt a little wobbly, you slipped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. That, in turn, led to you feeling the hard outline of his cock pressing against your thigh and you nearly melted right there, wishing you could feel him inside you now but figuring it probably wasn't worth the risk of being arrested for indecent exposure.

By now he knew you like the back of his hand, it seemed, because you were already throttling full speed ahead toward the edge, shocks of heat jumping up your spine each time he curled his fingers inside you.

"I— I'm gonna—" you stammered through your warning. He nodded, moving his fingers faster as you bit your lip a little too hard.

Just when you thought you couldn't help but cry out he kissed you one more time, rough and hungry, and muffled the sounds of you reaching your peak literally by his hand.

Everything that had twisted and snapped all at once began to soothe as you sighed and pushed his hand away slowly, feeling your walls spasm one more time when he slipped his fingers out and slid them right over your clit.

He pulled his hand out of your pants and brought his fingers to your lips; you dutifully cleaned them off for him, watching his lips twitch into a brief snarl when you took his fingers down your throat.

"Vom termina asta mai târziu," he promised darkly as he pulled you off of the wall and spun you around, and you wanted to return the favor but he stopped your hand from sliding up his thigh. "Mai târziu," he insisted, instead guiding you around the block and back to where his bike was parked.

Hopping on the back again as he started it up, you relished the change to cling onto his back tightly. He drove you through the empty streets, over sprawling hills and through stone archways, but just as you noticed this wasn’t the way to get back to the farmhouse, he slowed down and turned into a place to park.

“Why are you pulling over?” you asked, furrowing your brow as he parked the bike and motioned for you to get off with him. “Where are we going?”

“Ai incredere in mine,” he smiled as he took your helmet off for you and kissed you again, quickly, taking your hand and guiding you down a secluded path. You followed him down a few strange alleys, under clotheslines and sconces that started to dim with the oncoming morning light. Finally, he navigated you around a turn, through a tight gap, and out of nowhere you were on an overlook; one that gave you the perfect view of the sun beginning to rise over the city. “Wow,” you whispered, watching enraptured as soft yellow light overtook everything, the village and the woods in the distance beginning to come to life.

“Vremuri de genul ăsta mă fac să-mi fie dor de casă,” he sighed, before looking at you again from where he leaned on his elbows over the stone railing. “Îți faci mai ușor. Nu mai sunt singur.”

“This place is so beautiful, I’ve never lived anywhere like this before,” you admitted. “Maybe it’s just that it’s different that makes me like it so much… I guess I could say the same about you.”

Your eyes met his again, and the way he looked at you… it was like he saw right through you. Honestly, it was a bit terrifying. You'd never been so vulnerable to someone. You liked it more than you expected.

But it still scared you.

"Haide, hai să mergem acasă," he smiled as he stood upright again and took your hand.

"Let's get back to the house," you decided, but he was already leading you back to the bike where you rode through the countryside one more time, doing your best to memorize it all while you still had the chance.

You found tears in your eyes, though you didn’t remember crying, as you typed the final page of your manuscript.

It was a first draft, nothing close to a completed novel, but you were on your way to jumpstarting your career again. The only problem? You couldn’t have a career here. You couldn’t be published while living here, you couldn’t even edit this thing properly without a computer and you didn’t even have one here.

You needed to go home.

It killed you to realize that this was not a sustainable system: you living here— Hungary or Mrs. Alberti’s lakehouse— and falling in love with a near-stranger.

Sure, it was good for what it needed to be; he reminded you what it was like to be cherished and cared for, maybe you helped him break some dry spell (although you couldn’t imagine that this guy was anything but drowning in pussy all the time, but whatever). Regardless, it couldn’t last. It wasn’t meant to be anything other than… whatever it was meant to be.

You flipped through the pages of what you’d written already, admiring the journey that you saw on the paper— not just that of the characters, but your own as well. You could feel the weakness in your own voice in that first chapter, as if your hurt was right there painted on the page with the ink-pressed letters. You could remember shakily typing these words, hoping they would distract you from the fears and memories that plagued your mind.

A few chapters in, you could see the hope and optimism that built with the action of the story. You could feel your own love mirrored in the way you wrote your story, it was painfully powerful.

It brought a sense of closure, in a way; it gave you a chance to appreciate everything you’d learned from this, even if you knew you couldn’t take it with you into the next chapter. But this love didn’t feel like a subplot, it didn’t feel like a stepping stone onto the next adventure— it felt like what you’d been looking for your whole life. Maybe that’s just how it feels to be in the ‘honeymoon phase’ or whatever it’s called; maybe it’ll fade soon, with time and distance.

That was what you silently prayed for as you packed everything, folded your clothes, checked the nightstand drawers for those random trinkets they seemed to accrue. Funny how packing to leave this place took you longer than it did to throw your stuff together when you left Michael, and you’d been living there for years.

Then again, you'd known Michael so much longer than you'd known Sebastian, and yet it was Seba that meant so much to you now.

You weren’t sure what would be more difficult: leaving him, or knowing that you could never hope to explain everything in a way he would understand. You considered writing a letter and hoping that he would come upon a Romanian to English dictionary— but with everything you wanted to say, that would take him hours. After all that, would he find your words worth it? Or would he see it all as one last chore from a peculiar fling?

You were pretty sure he didn’t see it as a fling. But maybe he would understand that it was best left as a very unique rebound.

You left your room just to go get some coffee (or maybe something a little stronger, if it was available) and jumped when you saw Sebastian in the hall, causing you to quickly close the door behind you. “I didn’t expect to see you upstairs,” you greeted.

“Obținerea cearșafurilor curate,” he explained as he opened the door to the linen closet and pulled out some bedsheets.

“Oh, yeah, those could probably use a change,” you mumbled as you realized he may not have washed them since the last time you stayed in his bed.

“Vrei și tu câteva?” he asked, pointing towards your door and holding up the sheets.

“Oh, uh, I don’t need any more sheets,” you shook your head, “but thank you…”

His face curled into a mischievous grin. “Poate că trebuie să murdărim acele foi,” he purred as he set the linens down and stepped closer to you, wrapping you in his arms.

“Seba,” you mumbled, but he must not have heard the hesitance in your voice as he leaned in and kissed your neck, making you sigh a little. He hummed contentedly and lightly bit your ear, and you were almost ready to just let him do it and procrastinate this conversation a little longer, but you had to sigh and push him back.

“Esti bine?” he asked, voice heavy with concern, as he straightened up and examined your face.

“Sebastian…” you started with a sigh, the words you’d been anxiously mulling over all night suddenly abandoning you. “What happened between us meant so much to me,” you continued slowly, “but the fact of the matter is, my first marriage isn’t even over yet. I mean, it’s over, but… I’m not really in a place where I can… start a new relationship…”

He looked back at you, that same blankness of incomprehension you were so used to painting his expression, and yet it was somber; he seemed to sense the tone, even if he was losing out on the specific ideas.

“It’s not fair to either of us, really,” you sighed. “I’m still mourning my marriage— and you were a really important part of that for me. So, thank you.”

You realized you needed to express your gratitude more thoroughly. Thinking quickly, you reached for his hand and opened it, placing his palm to your chest. He looked at you, a little confused.

“Thank you,” you repeated, looking him right in the eye.

He nodded slightly.

“Someday, somebody is gonna love you the way you need— the way you deserve,” you told him, stopping briefly to bite your lip in hopes it would stop quivering. “God, I wish it could be me. But it can’t.”

He held your face and kissed you, and much to your dismay it didn’t feel like a goodbye kiss. It didn’t feel like he knew this was the end. “Nu plânge,” he whispered. “Te iubesc.”

He kissed you again and you let yourself get lost in it like a complete fucking idiot, melting into his arms as he opened your bedroom door and pulled you inside with him. For a moment, it was like any other time, like any other perfect kiss with him, but then he pulled back and looked around and you had to watch his eyes as he realized. You had to watch his face as his smile fell away and his hope turned to despondence.

The whole room was packed. Heavy trunks on the bed, the sheets already stripped so Mrs. Alberti could wash them. Everything that made it feel like your room was gone, and it was just a guest room again, feeling bigger and emptier than ever.

All that was left was the typewriter on the table, because you still couldn't lift it.

“O să pleci,” he gasped, stepping back and releasing you from his embrace. “Chiar mă părăsești.”

You knew that look he was wearing on his face; beyond heartbreak— betrayal. You were all too familiar with it. “I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, “I would stay if I could, but I can’t, can I?”

A car horn honked outside, making you wince.

“That’s my ride,” you mumbled. “I have to go…”

You started to reach for your trunks and for a moment you thought that was really it. “Nu te duce,” he interjected suddenly, grabbing at your wrist and turning you to face him.

“I’m sorry— I have to leave—” you rushed, trying to grab your bags again.

“Nu te duce,” he repeated again desperately, pulling you close, cradling your face in his hands.

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” you pleaded as your eyes began to water.

“Stay,” he begged, and you didn’t know that he knew that word. A tear fell; you wished he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I can’t.”

You stood up on your tiptoes to try to kiss him one last time, but he grimaced and pushed you away.

“Să trăieşti,” he said quickly, bitterly, as he stormed out of the room.

“Sebastian, wait—!”

But he was already running down the stairs; you heard the sound of the back door slamming a moment after he was out of sight, and another honk of the horn outside reminded you that you didn’t have time to chase after him. This wasn’t how you wanted it to end— really, you didn’t want it to end at all, and maybe if it had to (which it did) then this was as good a way as any. But you hated to leave like this when the last thing you wanted was to hurt him.

Defiantly wiping the tears from your face, you lifted the first of your trunks and made your way down the stairs, bringing them to the front door where the driver of the cab was waiting to carry them the rest of the way for you.

“Could you go upstairs and get my typewriter for me?” you asked him. “I can’t carry it well myself.”

He nodded and did as he was told, another small but painful reminder of your first day here. Mrs. Alberti came around the bend wearing a knitted shawl and a bittersweet smile.

“I hope you didn’t plan to go without saying goodbye,” she teased you.

“Of course not,” you smiled, “goodbye Mrs. Alberti.”

“I didn’t mean to me, dear,” she explained, making your heart twist.

“I don’t think he wants to hear it from me,” you admitted awkwardly. “I don’t think he can, literally.”

She just sighed and looked away, just as the driver loaded the last of your things into the trunk.

“So, this is it then,” you shrugged as you turned to face her.

“I doubt that,” she smiled. “It’s not a goodbye, sweetheart, just a ‘see you later.’”

“Sure,” you agreed, knowing she was wrong. You couldn’t come back here; you couldn’t leave him twice.

The driver shut the trunk and got back into the driver’s seat, leaving you to stare up at the house and take one last moment to soak it all in.

“You be sure to call me when your book is a big hit!” Mrs. Alberti instructed with a grin.

You were too choked up to say anything back, so you just waved and nodded as you got in the car and took a deep breath. “To the train station, please,” you mumbled to the driver, covering your eyes with your hand as you felt the car reverse and turn onto the road. You couldn't open them, or you’d look back, and you couldn’t look back.

Since your eyes were closed, you had no way to know that Sebastian chased after the car for nearly a block, giving up at the turn of the road, falling into the gravel and laying there for a while, repeating that one English word he couldn’t get out of his head: stay.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

What about 70 from the dialogue prompts w Taako + one of his friends (you pick!!),,,I always love a rare Taako Sincerity Moment <3

70. "I like that about you."

((prompts here - still accepting!!))

--

Taako and Lup were fighting, which was never good. Granted, Merle had never seen them have a legitimate fight in the past five years he's known 'em, but the vibes they're giving out... not good. Merle had to pry the story out of Barry, who had been the only one with them when it all went down. He explained it in a quiet voice as Merle gave him a final once-over from the injuries he had gained on the mission. The healing potions seemed to have worked well.

"I think Taako, uh, Taako just wanted to leave me behind?" Barry said. "I was pretty concussed at the time, I'm not gonna lie. But, uh. But I was very low on hitpoints, Taako wanted to just head back 'cus we weren't exactly winning the fight we were in, and- and Lup didn't wanna do that."

"Hm," Merle said. "How do you feel about all that?"

"How do I feel?" Barry repeated and at Merle's confirmation, he went on. "I'm, uh. I mean, I'm a little hurt, but I get it, y'know? The cycle's almost over, I woulda been back next month. Probably."

"Probably," Merle agreed. "You glad Lup got you out?"

"Yeah," Barry said. "I mean, uhm. Only Magnus and you have really died before. I don't know if I... If I ever wanna do that. I wanna know in like... a morbid way, kinda? Like I wanna know what it feels like. But not like that."

"I getcha," Merle said. "Any consultation, poison is not the way to go! That sucked!"

Merle had been struck by a poisoned arrow with about three months left to the third cycle. It hadn't been great. Barry cracked a small smile.

"I'll take your word for it," he said. "I'm gonna go, uh. Get back to the lab. At least we got the Light, right?"

"True that!" Merle said.

--

The mood over dinner was killer. Merle kind of felt like the tension between Lup and Taako could power its own magic flying boat-ship. Taako stabbed into his food like a madman. Lup was just... not eating.

"So, uh," Merle said. "Good grub, good grub. Anyone seen anything interesting lately? Any cool bugs? A neat plant?"

Silence.

"Well, I saw this awesome berry bush a bit away from the ship!" Merle said. "I showed it to Lucretia so she could draw it. Wasn't it cool, Luce?"

"Uh," Lucretia said, looking very much like she didn't want to say anything about the berry bush. "It was very... green. The berries were very, uh. Berry-like."

"No offense," Merle joked, patting Barry's arm. Barry looked incredibly uncomfortable but offered Merle a smile. "Anyone else? Capt'n?"

Another silence. Davenport, awkward and glancing nervously between everyone, opened his mouth to speak, but-

"I saw my brother almost leave behind our crewmate to die," Lup put in loudly.

"Oh fuck off," Taako said, pushing his plate away. "He woulda been back anyway!"

"But you didn't even try to help him-"

"Have you met me, Lup? Have you met yourself? When did you start trying to help folks?"

"When I started fucking caring about them!" Lup said, standing up. "And when I started not being emotionally constipated like some people here-"

"Lup," Davenport said, standing up. "Taako. I think it'd be best to take a second-"

"Oh, I'm the bad guy here?" Taako snapped. "I don't dive recklessly even further into a battle to try to save someone who'd be fine anyway!"

"It wasn't reckless, dumbass, what's reckless the behavior that started the fight in the first place-"

"Who fucking cares," Taako said, standing up. He rolled his eyes so hard that Merle thought they were just gonna pop out of his head. "I'm going to my bunk, I don't wanna- I'm not gonna sit here and deal with whatever shit you've got going on."

"Yeah, sure, run away!" Lup said, despite the fact that she was going towards the kitchen to escape the conversation as well. She slammed the door behind her. A few seconds of silence passed and another door slammed as well, further away.

The tension was different now, but somehow just as uncomfortable.

--

Merle decided, of his own free will and without consulting anyone, that he was gonna go talk to Taako. His bunk, which he shared with Lup, was at the end of the hallway. Merle figured that he could at least get in with the pretense of needing to get some things for Lup to sleep in the common area.

He knocked.

"We're closed!" Taako called back.

"I don't think we live in a store, kid," Merle said.

"Don't care!" Taako said. "We're closed!"

"I'm coming in," Merle said. When tried to open the door, it didn't budge. Time to break out his lie. "Lup needs her shit if she's gonna sleep on the couch. At least let me get her a blanket."

Taako didn't respond. After a moment, Merle heard the creak of bedsprings and the shuffle of cloth. Then, Taako was at the door, shoving a blanket and a pillow towards Merle. He almost had gotten the door closed before Merle could even blink, but Merle managed to wedge a pillow between the door and the doorframe just in time.

"You're not here for Lup's shit," Taako accused.

"I'm not," Merle agreed, very casually walking through the gap that was left. He had to squeeze a bit, but Taako just scoffed instead of trying to shut the door on him. "Can we talk?"

"We don't have anything to talk about," Taako said, sitting on the edge of his bed. Merle deposited the blanket and pillow near the door.

He didn't come in here very often- he didn't have any reason to. The room was a mess, but Merle had an inkling that it had some sort of organization to it. Lup's bed was made. Taako's looked like a tornado had gone through. Without asking permission, Merle sat next to him and Taako made a noise of disgust.

"I wanna ask you somethin'," Merle said.

"Did Lup send you?" Taako asked drily. "Or Davenport? Like- what is this?"

"Nah, I came by myself," Merle said. "Actually, I think Dav would suggest the opposite of talking to you right now."

"Leaving me alone, great, you should listen to him."

"Nah," Merle said again. "I have a question. Wanna hear it?"

Taako groaned but seemed to understand that he probably couldn't get Merle to leave. That was good because Merle had run out of lies on why he needed to be here.

"Shoot," Taako said, putting his face in his hands.

"Who's your favorite person, besides Lup?" Taako peaked up from his hands and gave Merle a hard stare. Merle shrugged, raising his hands defensively. "Just askin', man! Doesn't have to be anyone on the crew. They don't even have to be on this plane, or alive, or anything. But tell me someone, besides Lup, who you really like."

Taako was silent, putting his head back in his hands completely. Merle kicked his legs, his feet not quite reaching the ground, as he waited. It took long enough that Merle began to worry that Taako wouldn't answer at all, but finally, he answered with,

"My auntie."

"Ooh, yeah?" Merle said. "Why d'you like her so much?"

"I don't know!" Taako said defensively, throwing his hands up. "Why did you care so much!"

"Just curious!" Merle said. "What's she like? Did she ever give you any good gifts? I had an aunt, once, but she called me a loser."

"You are a loser," Taako muttered. "She was... smart."

"A good quality," Merle said. "Was that her one personality trait? Smart?"

"No," Taako bit out. "She could cook really well. She taught Lup and me, but I'm better at it."

"I believe ya," Merle said.

"Lup can bake better, I guess," Taako said, quietly, like that had been a secret. "Auntie taught us Goblin and how to sow, even though she liked knitting better. She always had knitting needles in her hair, I think to keep it up 'cus when she was knitting, her hair was always down. And she gave us our first spellbook and she didn't get mad when I set her bed on fire by accident."

"No joke?" Merle asked. "I woulda been at least a little mad."

"She was kind," Taako said. "And so fuckin' funny. She didn't care if we swore, like some of our cousins did. And she- she got it when we told her that life was tough. She didn't make fun of us or dismiss us or say that we were too young to know."

"Really smart, then," Merle said. "What happened to her?"

Taako's posture sort of sagged- more than it already was. He sighed.

"Got really sick," he admitted. "She set us up with some shit we would need and let us know when we had to go. No bullshit or coddling or anything, just told us what was happening and that we needed to go."

"Did you want to go?" Merle asked. "That seems like it was a pretty good setup you had going."

"'Course I didn't wanna go," Taako scoffed. "We didn't, at first. But, uh. Lup and Auntie convinced me to leave. She wasn't able to do much for us anymore. Sucks to see someone you care about getting hurt, anyway."

"So you had to go," Merle said. "Not just smart, then. Wise. Knew what'd be best for ya."

"Yeah," Taako said. "It's whatever, Merle, it happened ages ago. Why do you care?"

"'Cus you care," Merle said, nudging him in the side a little too hard. Taako grunted and looked towards him finally.

"You're full of bullshit sometimes, y'know?"

"You'd rather see someone come back fresh than have to live with a lotta pain," Merle said, patting his leg. "I like that about you, Taako. It's a good thing, don't look so upset. I just wanna let you know that while some people would want you to leave them if they're suffering, some others might not. Better to ask, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, next time I'll ask Barry if he'd rather get stabbed to death before I leave," Taako said sarcastically.

"Just think about it," Merle said, hopping off the bed and heading towards the door. "Might not be the smartest thing to do, but it'd be pretty wise."

He picked up the blanket and pillow, eyes barely peeking out from the pile in his arms.

"Can ya open the door?" Merle asked and Taako sighed, crossing the room to open the door for him. However, he stopped with his hand on the door handle and said, without looking at Merle again,

"Leave Lup's stuff."

Merle shrugged and dropped them. Taako opened the door, letting him out. On his way back up to the common area, he passed Lup sitting against the wall closest to the Starblaster's entrance, tossing a few magical balls of light between her fingers.

"Hiya," Merle said, sliding down next to her. He thumped to the floor and Lup winced, one of the lights extinguishing.

"I'm not really in the mood, Merle," she said.

"That's fine, that's fine," Merle said, waving away her concern. "I just got a question for ya."

[sheepwasfound]

I think he is/was nervous to show george his face because in that cursed mcc 8 after talk about the face reveal and ily talk dream said to george

'I'm sorry looks matter to you' </3 he took george wanting to see his face in a negative way both of them were upset but george could care less about looks i think it was more about putting a face to your bestfriend and having that association.

when you love someone, you love their face and like to look at it no matter what it looks like, just cus it's them and all you see in it is the person you love. you don't focus on whether something looks bad or whatever. you see them smile and you're happy cus they're happy, and it's that simple. that’s probably how it feels on george’s side of things.

but dream has given me nervous vibes about showing his face to george (though we can't know anything). like when he said he didn't want to show his face to george because he hadn't shaved. how many times had he made some excuse like that in his own head i wonder? george begs him now and again for years, but it's never a good time. he's got a bunch of pimples on his jaw rn. his eyebags are super bad because he hasn't slept well. his hair is dirty because he hasn't washed it today. his outfit is lame. the lighting is bad rn. george's photo looked too good and he couldn't possibly compare.

especially combined with how they met when dream was in high school, the time in everyone's life when they feel the most self conscious about their looks. he'd shown his face to sapnap years ago already, when they were still little kids, so it wouldn't have felt the same. so you're in high school worrying about all kinds of shit in your life, including all the pimples on your face, and then this college guy with his shawn mendes looking ass pretty boy face shows himself to you, what would you do? that would be the moment to show yourself right back, that trust exercise between internet friends, but you'd feel woefully inadequate. what's the point in showing yourself when you don't look that great anyway?

then it just keeps going. even when there's sort of a reason to show yourself maybe, it's never a good time. you never look good enough. you get even closer with him and you see his face all the time, and it's starting to be strange that he hasn't seen yours, but that's exactly why the pressure gets even higher. you lash out about it sometimes and make excuses and try to say looks don't matter when you're actually the one that cares about them and he's the one that looks so good that he couldn't imagine what it's like for you. it's been so long and you've missed so many chances, why would now be the time? it would if you're in an airport about to meet him. that'd be the time. but that's scary too. so you make more excuses to delay that too and it never ends

[bukatra]

Ok, sit down, Imma tell you a story.

SO, My great aunt Dororthy was my grandma’s little sister. And when she was really young she had a head injury and grew up ‘simple’ as my grandma told it. I think she seemed autistic, but either way, she was quite odd and unable to live alone.  Anyway, so when she was like in her 20s she lived with my grandma and her mother in chicago. She worked at this super ritzy hotel restaurant as a dishwasher. She loved this job. LOVED it. Mostly, she loved the fact that she had one very simple task. take the dirty dishes, wash them, and stack them. One simple task she could do iver and over and was great at. It was great. She LOVED washing these dishes.

Then, one day, Dorothy is minding her own business, washing dishes, and they are SLAMMED. So the manager or whatever runs in and tells her to take the tray out to table 9. And she says “No. I still have dishes to do.”  And the managers like “Forget the dishes, I have hungry customers who need their food and all the waiters are backed up. Just take this one tray out and you can come back and finish the dishes. Now, Dorothy HATED change. She hated having her routine messed up, all cus a snotty customer couldn't wait for their food like a normal person. So she's very angry and close to meltdown.

 She grabs the tray and walks to table 9 and slams the food down. “Heres your food sir.” hse sneers.

The man is flabbergasted. “How dare you. Do you know who I am?” he demands.

She doesnt give a rats ass who this pompus guy is, she wants to be back in the back doing dishes like she usually is. “Dont know. Dont care.” She responds. “I got dishes to wash and your annoying me.” and off she goes to wash dishes.

Minutes later the manager runs in, red faced with anger. “That man who you served. He's asking to see you.”

Now she's pissed. She was just getting back into the rhythm and she's being interrupted AGAIN.

So she marches out there. “WHAT?” 

“Do you honestly not know who I am?” he askes.

“Nope. But you've bothered me twice. What do you want?”

His dining partner leans over. “This is Clark Gabel. You know, from Gone With The Wind.” the lady says.

Now, My great aunt Dorothy did not watch movies. She didn't go out in public much, she didn't like noisy cramped places. She hadn't seen Gone With The Wind, and she hadn't heard of Clark Gabel. “So? What does that have to do with the price of pennies in heaven?” she asks.

The man, Clark Gabel, laughed and handed her a signed autograph of her. He had just come from a signing and had extra. She looks at this and then him and says “Whats this for?”

And he laughs so hard he almost falls out of his seat. “If you don't want it, give it to your friend or sister or someone. Perhaps they will appreciate it more.”

She is not amused. All she can think of is the dirty dishes piling up in the back. He lets her go and she finishes her shift. 

When she arrives home, she tosses the autograph to my grandma and says “Some asshole named Clark gave this to me at work.”

That autograph paid for my mom and grandma's rent for a few months when my grandfather passed away.

By the time my grandma and my great aunt died, neither of them remembered this story. But I did. 

So yeah. My great aunt mouthed off the King of Hollywood and got a picture from an asshole named Clark.

[screamsinsilver]

I haven't seen the screenshots but all I know is that he dmed this girl to go on a maccies date (saw this via the sun article which came up on my search for timings for this weekend), imagine having to put out a statement on your relationship cos you wanted to have maccies with girl 😭

and I'm still taking it with a pinch of salt cus didn't he say he never has maccies? like he said on stream that he hadn't had a bourbon biscuit since primary school and also the guy is loaded he could take a girl literally anywhere in the world

if he is looking for someone new now his relationship with Luisa is over, it is understandable for him to put out a statement clarifying his relationship status considering his "fans". I just think the dms are shady