#had dis mental image

[bluenightcomedies]

[katlovesdbh]

A Very Cursed Thought;

So, Essek has his wrist pocket spell, yes? I have read a few fics where it could be dispelled, but most usually in the Fanon I've seen it has been ruled that it drops when he is killed.

Please please imagine that Essek gets got (and no worries, he has 2 (two) Clerics and a whole rest of the Nein invested in his eventual survival, he'll be fine), but yeah he Gets Got and, as the stuff spills out of his dimensional wrist pocket, please imagine the sound Sonic the Hedgehog Makes when he gets got and the golden rings pop out.

That is all XD

[shamera]

An Oar Upon the Water (MLC ficlet)

Fandom: Mysterious Lotus Casebook Character/Pairing(s): Di Feisheng / Li Lianhua / Fang Duobing Rating: PG Warning: none? fluff! DreamWidth link

"There are some people who leave impressions not so lasting as the imprint of an oar upon the water." -Kate Chopin

Despite his reputation, Li Lianhua didn’t always work as a physician for money.

Of course he didn’t, not when he saw sick children lining the streets or parents offering what little they had if only someone would help— and he could help. Perhaps it was unwise to use his Yangzhouman in those cases, but he once tried to make the world a better place and it turned out to be a habit hard to break.

For the poorer families, he often got cases of vegetables (he would accept seeds for payment as well) or whatever homemade kits of items they could afford to give away. Once, a young girl gifted him with a tiny wood carving for helping her injured brother.

“It’s my favourite,” she lisped in a mock-whisper, holding it up for him with both hands. She was missing at least two of her front teeth, and had her hair barely contained in a childish bun on the side of her head. “Brother made it for me.”

Li Lianhua had knelt before her to keep her at eye level, a little tired but not overly so from his session. “You should keep it, then. It must be worth more than anything in the world.”

She brightened at his acknowledgement, all but thrusting the little wood piece at his chest. “It is! But you have it, okay? Brother can make a new one for me now.”

And thus Li Lianhua ended up with various knick-knacks in Lotus Tower that he just couldn’t bear to throw away.

—

After the cumulation of everything, Li Lianhua returned to Lotus Tower filled with trepidation. With nothing else to do (he had practically been ordered under house arrest! He was rarely left alone, and even when he was, Hulijing barked loudly every time he walked outside the door!), he found himself organising boxes and drawers in an attempt to keep busy.

By the time Fang Duobing came back, slouching a little from exhaustion from dealing with angry officials who could hardly believe the results (and arrests) from a case, he found Li Lianhua in the middle of a chaotic mess on the ground, piles of random trinkets thrown atop the table and chairs and floor.

“What are you doing?” The younger man asked, mentally despairing at the idea of cleaning all that up in order to make room for dinner. He crept close, toeing the mess warily.

It was Hulijing, sprawled across Li Lianhua’s lap for a nap, who twitched an ear and acknowledged Fang Duobing’s presence first, opening a single eye and then huffing a breath before going back to her nap.

Li Lianhua, on the other hand, took a long moment before he looked up from his inventory, ink dotting the edge of his sleeves as he examined several wooden objects before picking up the wet brush that was resting a little too close to his clothes and writing something down on paper. He looked up only after he was finished.

“Xiaobao,” he acknowledged warmly. “How did it go?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Fang Duobing replied, raising his chin proudly. He leaned over a large stack of books on the table. “What are you doing?”

“Organising.” Li Lianhua responded absentmindedly, and then paused. He gestured Fang Duobing forward with a hand. “Come here.”

It took him a moment to carefully step over the mess, and then lean down as Li Lianhua gestured him closer again, waiting as the man took one of the small wooden pieces and pressed it against the nearly empty plate of ink set on the side of the floor. Then Li Lianhua grabbed him by the hand and pressed the wooden bit against his skin.

“Good job on the last case.” Li Lianhua told him, and then lifted the wooden piece, making a pleased noise at what it revealed.

Fang Duobing lifted his hand, at first bothered by the ink stain and then amused as he saw the six petal flower impression left on his skin. “Thanks. What’s this?”

“I couldn’t figure out the shape of it.” Li Lianhua told him, setting the wooden stamp back down on the ground.

Fang Duobing gave only a moment’s dubious glance at the paper next to Li Lianhua, and then decided to ignore the small lie. He was coming to realise how Li Lianhua would speak, truth and lies mixed together in the grand scheme of things at all times, and this was one of those moments where he was deflecting with a small lie, one that was far too easy to pick out. It had taken him months originally to realise: Li Lianhua was actually a pretty bad liar.

“Is that a seal?” Fang Duobing asked, lifting his hand to better examine the shape. The petals were roughly carved, and the ink was slightly blotchy, bleeding a bit onto his skin already. It was cute, the size no bigger than a fingernail. “Did you make it?”

Li Lianhua shook his head absentmindedly. “Given to me, I think.”

Fang Duobing made a considering noise, and thought about Li Lianhua pressing the stamp against his skin to tell him he did a good job. “I’ll get you a better one. Something lotus-shaped. And cinnabar ink.”

“What use would I have for that?” Li Lianhua asked. He was already examining something else in the pile next to him, head turned away. “I have no official documents to sign.”

Fang Duobing gave a considering hum as he examined the flower on his hand, and smiled. “I’ll get you one, anyway.”

—

Wuyan paused in his daily report as Di Feisheng turned his head slightly to read the document next to him with the same apparent disinterest as usual.

“Ahh.” He blinked as his leader’s gaze turned toward him at the uncharacteristic hesitation. “Apologies, Director. You have, ahh—”

Di Feisheng was dressed impeccably as always, deep violet robes underneath a thick patterned black overrobe held tightly together by black leather wrist guards and belt, both sewn with silver edging. Everything was put together well, perfectly groomed, and his hair was in its familiar crown, yet—

Wuyan pointed to his own cheek and said, “You seem to have something here.”

The ‘something’ was barely more than a smudge of ink, but one that formed the shape of a six petaled flower, only the slightest bit smeared.

Surprisingly, the Jinyuan Alliance leader smiled slightly. “Yes.”

Wuyan cleared his throat, and decided not to comment on it further. Considering Di Feisheng had come back for the reports directly from Lotus Tower, very little was going to actually surprise Wuyan at this point.

He’d just have to ensure no one else commented on it later.

—

When Di Feisheng made his way back to Lotus Tower just after the sun set, the floor was cleared of clutter once more, everything orderly and tidy and wiped clean. The fire under the kettle was lit, the flame small but bright and warm in the autumn evening. There were several pots bubbling happily, emitting smells of herbs and medicine that stung his nose slightly.

Li Lianhua was seated next to the pots, hunched over slightly and mending a rip in some dark green robes, rattan fan set down next to him.

“Where’s the brat?” Di Feisheng asked in lieu of a greeting, seating himself next to Li Lianhua.

“Xiaobao took Hulijing down to the stream,” Li Lianhua responded, not bothering to look up from his task. “And since you have your hands free, you can help me fan the pots.”

Di Feisheng thought of refusing for only a moment (mostly to see Li Lianhua's reaction) but then took up the fan, keeping his movements slow enough to feed the flames but not fast enough to agitate. He watched as Li Lianhua carefully mended the rip with a dark thread, and then finally tied off the end with a clumsy double knot before snipping the excess and smoothing out the fabric triumphantly.

“That should do it,” Li Lianhua said. “Before I put this away, did you have— A’Fei.”

Di Feisheng raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement, still fanning.

Li Lianhua raised a sleeve to hide his smile. “You didn’t wipe it off? I thought you were angry at Fang Xiaobao for that. Should I—?”

“Leave it.” Di Feisheng said, halting Li Lianhua’s movement toward a rag. “It’s fine.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

Of course they did. Di Feisheng hadn’t exactly hidden from his meetings. None other than Wuyan dared to comment on the flower mark on his face.

“I should have hidden it,” Li Lianhua continued, tone amused.

“Where did you put it, then?”

Li Lianhua indicated toward the dresser by the door, close enough they could reach it without getting up. “I covered the ink earlier.”

Di Feisheng leaned over, reaching across over Li Lianhua’s warm back to grab the little wooden stamp, and then took a moment’s deliberation before grabbing the ink plate as well, pulling it back toward the table. Li Lianhua was watching him with a quirked smile, heading tilted as if questioning what he was doing.

He put the fan down and uncovered the ink plate to dip the stamp in, and then reached toward Li Lianhua even as the man leaned away with a huff of amusement.

“Oh no,” Li Lianhua said. “You don’t get to turn this around on me! I wasn’t the one who left that on your face!”

“Why not?” Di Feisheng asked, taking it as a challenge as he moved to keep the man within reach. “Fang Duobing has this mark too, doesn’t he?”

“He’s probably washed it off by now— A’Fei!”

Di Feisheng darted to reach around the mended robe Li Lianhua was using as a makeshift shield, and feinted in one direction only to push into the other man's personal space, leaving him no room to retreat if he didn’t want to get up from the chair, until Li Lianhua laughed from the sheer absurdity of it and Di Feisheng managed to slip a hand to cup the bottom of his head and gently press the stamp between his brows.

Li Lianhua's smile softened, “A huadian? Really?”

Di Feisheng found himself smiling in return. “It suits.”

Outside, the sounds of paws running on the road reached their ears moments before they heard Fang Duobing call out, “I’m back! We got a lot of fish in the traps— should we smoke it overnight?”

Li Lianhua gave Di Feisheng an amused, challenging look as the latter let him go and pulled back just as the door opened to let both Fang Duobing and Hulijing inside from the cold.

“Lao Di!” Fang Duobing greeted cheerfully. He was carrying a stick laden with fish tied to the end, arm bracers missing and his sleeves rolled up slightly to expose his forearms. “When did you get back?”

Then he took in the scene and stopped in his tracks, laughing at the two men with flower stamps on their faces sitting on the same bench.

Di Feisheng was gracious enough to let the young man laugh for several long moments before he handed the wooden stamp to Li Lianhua and commented casually, “I’ll hold him down.”

Li Lianhua accepted the object graciously, also taking the entire ink plate as Di Feisheng stood up. “Alright.”

“Wait, wait, wait! You’re not serious, are you? Wait!”

Li Lianhua smiled and made sure to press the stamp down extra hard in the ink.

[peachyhoneyadventures]

EDOLISSE AND VARRICK

These Hands, If Not Gods by Natalie Diaz | Still from When A Man Loves (1927) | Snippet from Richard Siken's "Crush" | Still from Lodger (???) | Poem from Margaret Atwood's "You are Happy"

[mishy-mashy]

Julius is just a Hard Knock Life orphan on a path called Julius's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

[relicsongmel]

Your honor my client simply wanted to fuck around and find out

[e-adlirez]

#Technoblade25

Heeyyyyy am I late to the party? I hope I'm not too late, been working on this thing for the occasion

hebe hebe HEBE amiinm'enbimikta HEBE AMIINM'ENBIMIKTA AMIINM'ENBIMIKTA HEBE HEBE HEBE AMIINM'ENBIMIKTA

Ne yhdeini sy caera, Tommy? Meku AMULVHT VID LIIN!

For the record, the ripple thingies are from Tsevhu, aka the funni koi fish language :D I've been studying the conlang lately

Anyway, the red Tsevhu is a translation of "you want to be a hero, Tommy? Then DIE like one!", while the pale red are the voices chanting "one of us" and the closest the Tsevhu Discord could approximate for "blood for the blood god" in a phrase (the actual thing translates something to like "start giving completely and involuntarily", which in Tsevhu is kinda like chanting for sacrifice, which is fun and very much chat :3)

("blood for the blood god" would've translated to a straight-up sentence that I'd have to frame in koiwrit, which I felt would be too cluttered, as much as clutteredness is very in-character for chat)

Anyway hope I'm not too late haha, happy 25th birthday, Techno.

[thediktatortot]

Things I wish my brain didn't do on a constant basis:

Immediately jump to the worst conclusions about any change in someone's actions.

Think of things that are triggering and upsetting out of nowhere.

Miss people who've hurt me severely in the past.

Like...come on brain. Please 😵‍💫

[mrpenguinpants]

crying mr pengu how are you T T

[arielluva]

grief is such a weird emotion bc i can be fine most of the time even if it think about it, but then sometimes thinking about it digs it up all over again

[echeveriia]

in repose/talking to god

[dragongeek1]

well friends I have officially joined the Chronic Pain Club, it’s not great to be here, there’s a chance it’s only temporary but my gut says ‘hmm many doubts’ and I won’t really know for a couple of weeks anyway until my doctors appointment. So. Been navigating that for four days and well we’re navigating at least

[fingertipsmp3]

Just found out today that my dad predicted my adult height and managed to get within 1 centimetre of what it would actually be 🥹

[vampiefemme]

a blurb in which ellie’s a sex shop worker you’re becoming very, very well-acquainted with <3

18+ mdni! shoo!

you’re on the verge of what would be your most earth-shattering orgasm to date when your vibrator betrays you.

your naked body, painted with a thin layer of sweat, sprawls over the wrinkled sheets of your bed, the damp fabric clinging to your skin as you gasp for breath. you’re working the vibrator over your slick folds, through the creamy spend of your previous orgasm, and every sensation below your waist is pure ecstasy. it hasn’t taken long to bring you right back to the edge - your back arches of its own accord, your eyes squeezing shut as a flurry of daydreams passes through your head.

all of them, it turns out, involve the very person who’d sold you the vibrator buzzing between your legs. ellie.

her hands on your hips, your ass, your throat. her mouth on your neck, her tongue on your clit. you can almost feel the warm puffs of breath she’d huff down at you as she fucked you, splitting you open with her strap and leaving you empty-headed and spent.

the mental images alone are enough to send you reeling, and right as you’re about to pass the threshold into the white-hot, blinding pleasure of another orgasm, the persistent hum of your vibrator abruptly cuts off.

you could throw up. you could cry. you could exercise sound logic and just charge the damn thing, but instead of any of the above, you find yourself rummaging through your drawers for whatever clothes you can find. sweats and a band tee, a mismatched pair of socks. nothing else.

ellie’s behind the counter again when you pull the door open. the shrill chirp of the entrance sensors draws her eyes to you, and you’re unsurprised to find her smoking a cigarette, body huddled over the edge of the counter. her brows lift in surprise when she sees you.

“back already?” she asks, putting out her cig leisurely. “must’ve gone really well. or maybe really poorly?“

you don’t miss the way her eyes roam over your figure, lingering on your chest; you’re not wearing a bra, and the peaks of your nipples are visible beneath the thin fabric. your back straightens.

“it died.”

“oh,” ellie says. “did you… charge it?”

“no, i wanted to—i thought maybe i could try something else.” you chew at your lower lip, casting a glance at the wall of toys from which ellie had plucked your vibrating bullet the first time you’d come here. you turn back to ellie just in time to see something dark glimmer in her eyes. she nods.

“yeah, of course. think you’re ready for something more intense? c’mon.” she nods her head towards the toy section, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulder. you follow her and watch as she surveys the wall of toys, the sheer volume of packages just as overwhelming as last time. ellie reaches out for a hot pink box, shiny lettering spelling out Boss Lady across the top. you grimace.

“what kind of name is that for a sex toy?” you quip, reaching for the package. ellie snatches it out of reach.

“ah-ah, sweetheart, don’t doubt the Boss Lady. she packs quite the punch.”

“really, now?” you ask, cocking a brow. “you know from experience?”

ellie just smiles, dimples in her cheeks. “if the name is just too cringy for you, we can find something else. but i recommend her—i think you’ll have lots of fun with her.”

“okay, fine. you pulled my leg.” you reach for the box again, and ellie lets you grab it this time, her gaze on you as you flip the package over and read through some of the metallic pink text adorning the back. the only rabbit vibrator you’ll ever need, it reads. powerful dual stimulation will keep you satisfied!

it occurs to you then, as you follow ellie to the register and dig in your pockets for some cash, that you should probably be embarrassed. here you are, a week after your first ever vibrator purchase, ready to fork over some hard-earned cash for a second one—one with a questionable name, no less. your cheeks warm as ellie regards you from the other side of the register, the heels of her hands pressed to the counter. there’s a knowing look on her face, her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smirk, that dark look from earlier still dancing in her eyes.

god, she probably thinks you’re a sex addict. she totally thinks you’re a sex addict.

“is it weird that i’m back so soon?” you ask, before you can think to filter yourself. ellie’s brows knit together in confusion.

“huh? no, no, not at all—we have plenty of regulars, you know.” she types something into the register, eyes still fixed on you. “i’d say it’s weirder that you’re here at two in the morning.”

you blink. “two?”

“two twenty-one, to be precise.” ellie nods at the clock on the wall, the hour, minute, and second hands made of three different flesh-toned penis cutouts. “but hey, i get it. your vibrator died.”

you clear your throat. “how much do i owe you?”

“hm. well…” ellie drums her fingers on the cash wrap’s countertop. “i’m feeling generous tonight. answer one question for me, and Boss Lady is yours for free.”

“i’m awful at trivia,” you confess.

“trivia? jesus.” ellie barks a surprised laugh. “i’m not—it’s not trivia.”

narrowing your eyes, you shuffle up to the counter and nod. “okay, fine. ask away.”

ellie moves in closer, too, head dipping ever so slightly to allow her to peer down at you. it takes everything in you to keep your eyes from lingering over her frame and drinking in every inch of her: the bold lines of her forearm tattoo, the burn-holes in the collar of her shirt, the faint kiss of freckles on the bridge of her nose. but while you attempt to reign in your wandering gaze, ellie doesn’t hold back. she takes her time looking you over. bites the plush, pink swell of her lower lip.

then: “what were you thinking about?”

“huh?”

“earlier, when you were touching yourself. before the vibrator died. what were you thinking about?”

“that’s your question?” you chew on the inside of your cheek. embarrassment roils in your stomach; she has to know that, while your body writhed in the center of your mattress, cunt twitching and gushing, you’d been thinking of her.

ellie smirks. “you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to.”

“no, it’s… it’s okay,” you murmur. your palms are clammy and you force your gaze to Boss Lady, waiting patiently on the counter for her chance to help you see god. “i was thinking about, um… you, actually.”

you’re still staring at the gaudy pink package on the counter, hands squeezed into fists at your side. you can feel the half-moon indents of your nails digging into your palms, and just as the silence stretches a bit too long for your comfort, ellie laughs.

it’s a wicked thing, a biting sound. all self-satisfaction and enthrallment. you dare to steal a glance at her, and she’s grinning like a maniac, her cheeks tinged the prettiest shade of red.

“can i tell you something?” she asks, stuffing a hand into her pocket and pulling out a wad of cash. her fingers glide over the cash register, clicking at a few buttons, and she slides the money into each respective slot before pushing the drawer closed with a satisfying click. “i’ve been touching myself to the thought of you, too.”

mouth going dry, you gawk at ellie like she’s got four heads; she simply beams at you like she didn’t just admit that she’s thought about you with her hand between her legs. she leans over the counter, one strong hand reaching towards you to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“you seem nervous,” she says.

“i���m—i don’t…” you trail off, cheeks positively flaming.

“tell you what,” ellie begins, retracting her hand. she moves back from the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. your eyes flicker over the whorls of ink that decorate her skin, biceps flexed just so; your cunt throbs. “you can go now, if you want. i won’t stop you.”

“or,” she says, voice dipping low, husky, “you can lock that front door, and i can show you how much fun you can have with your new toy.”

she reaches a hand out and taps the box for emphasis, and you’re struck by how at ease she seems. how comfortable she is with your mutual attraction and the opportunity to act on it. it lights a fire in you, one that engulfs every last trace of doubt.

you lock the front door, of course.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Since the video of this escapade is long because I hate video editing I will now tell you the tale of the first time I went into a Walmart.

Now I am privileged in that I did not grow up in a town where Walmart was the only option. I heard bad stuff and avoided them. So I didn’t set foot into a Walmart until I was well into my twenties. One fateful night changed that…

My beloved wife and I hadn’t been dating that long when we lay cuddling in bed together. My beloved is often given to flights of extreme silliness. Somehow bouquets of flowers and balloons popped into their head. They joked that courting couples should exchange bouquets of condoms, then they wondered what that might look like.

In that moment, I developed a rock hard determination to deliver unto my beloved a bouquet of condoms. I informed them of my intent. They told me not to. I was silent long enough that they believed the matter dropped but I fell asleep that night plotting how I would pull off the caper growing in my heart.

The next day I woke up and began to google. The mental image in my heart was condoms inflated like balloons but I had no idea where I could take condoms to be inflated. I had a ton of balloon filling experience from working at Red Robin but I doubted they’d let me bring in a pack of condoms to fill up. Groceries stores certainly wouldn’t. That’s when I found a helium tank for sale at Walmart. I leapt out of bed and began my quest.

I was supposed to meet my beloved after their shift at the coffee shop and I had rosy images of greeting them with a fantastical bouquet of condom balloons at work, embarrassing them and delighting their coworkers. So I was trying to hurry when I stepped into the blaring sensory overload of Walmart.

I had imagined it would be like a Target inside and was unprepared for the sickly fluorescence of the lights overhead, the massive structure filled with the cheapest of capitalism’s offerings and the most burned out staff. To me it was loud both visually and aurally and I could not imagine anywhere I wanted to be less. I paused in the entryway before screwing my courage to the sticking place and marching forward.

Oddly the helium balloon kit was much easier to find than the second item on my list. I looked everywhere but eventually admitted defeat and approached a lady in her little blue vest whose soul had died within her or was perhaps taking a vacation on another plane of existence.

“Excuse me, where are your condoms?”

Her blank face focused into a pursed expression toward me as she pointed out the aisle, looking me up and down as if to suggest she wouldn’t be rattled by such vulgarities. I was tempted to brandish my balloon kit and explain my plan in an attempt to make her laugh but I needed to hurry and she clearly wanted me gone so I obliged.

The next difficulty was the condoms. When I worked at the sex shop we carried unlubricated condoms but scanning the dizzying array of Walmarts offerings I couldn’t see them anywhere. Time ticked ominously by me, my chance to publicly dismay my beloved bleeding away. I snatched a pack of Magnums the big boys would make better balloons I figured.

I got home and locked away the cats. To familiarize myself with the helium tank I used one of the regular balloons provided, filling a terribly lackluster little green one, making it far too small. Then I figured it was good enough and started filming myself, pumping helium into the slippery uncooperative condoms.

There was a steep learning curve. The first several were too slimy to hold and tie nicely, but soon I hit my stride and began making majestic huge balloons out of prophylactics. It was time consuming, much more than I’d imagined. I sweated and toiled as quickly as I could, determined to fill every condom, but alas as the clock ticked down I finished just a little too late to realize my dream of embarrassing my beloved at work.

Still. I was not deterred. I would bring the riot of rubbers to my beloved’s home and their roommates would laugh.

Getting the balloons into the car proved quite difficult. They were the wrong shape to be biddable about following my lead into the car and I ended up with several facefulls of excitably salacious balloons before I managed to have my way with them.

When I got to my beloveds house I could see them inside with one roommate and I charged ahead with my magnificent love token. Several sadder condoms trailed down outside the main mass, and the single green balloon hung limp and embarrassed next to the breathtaking length and majesty of the main body.

My beloved was shocked and delighted and exclaimed, “Where did you go to do this?!”

I brandished my phone to show them the making of video. The bouquet floated regally through the living room for weeks, retaining helium much longer than a regular balloon would. Eventually the weight of the early failures dragged it to the ground and we put the condoms to rest, keeping only the memory of its whimsy.

[konpeitonom]

hii can u do mw characters hallucinating their dead partner??:3thx btw love ur posts

tulpar crew hallucinating their dead partners.

sfw— lowercase intended ^_^

g/n reader (i think) — content warning for self harm/substance abuse.. so sorry!!

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; i was super excited to do this request! finally got around to doing it. sorry if this a wee bit inaccurate, i’ve never had severe hallucinations like what im portraying here but i tried my best anyway. take this as a happy 100+ follower celebration! never written for all the cast before so this was really fun. i don’t rlly like this haha but hopefully u guys do

curly

— i’d break him. and i think he wouldn’t be able to work properly as captain if they were frequent. and he’d feel a lot of guilt about that. everyone’s counting on him, he can’t be so hung up on the past.

— would confide in jimmy about it, and jimmy would make some comment about he’s not fit to work if he’s seeing hallucinations of his dead partner- maybe even shame him a little..

— i’d freak him out every time i’d happen. he’d have to leave the room if someone else was there, to go cry somewhere private.

— he already has issues sleeping, but i’d make it much worst. which would only make the hallucinations worst. he can never catch a break..

— he knows he’d never get over your passing, especially if it was tragic/something he could’ve prevented- but he didn’t think he’d go crazy like this.

jimmy

— he would be pissed, seriously. he’d go mad. he’d resort to drinking or self harm if it was possible.

— i only say self harm as a.. he’d stand right in front of you, cut himself and say stuff like.. “you wanted this, right? is that why you’re here? came back to fucking haunt me?”

— he’s completely scummy, and would start blaming you. his view of you would be completely tainted. but then would start feeling upset about how he’s ruined even the image of you.

— to ground himself, he’d just look at old pictures- maybe look at your old clothes if he got the chance. he doesn’t wanna ruin you, but he does. even in death, you can’t run from him.

— all around a mess. haha. he’s confused, maybe a little scared- but still selfish old jimmy..

— i mean, death is regular. it happens. people he’s known, been close to, have died. but for him to be seeing you? and so vividly too? that’s not normal, not at all.

anya

— anya would find a lot of comfort in it. she knows it isn’t healthy, but she can’t help but maybe enjoy it a little. it’s nice to know you’re always there, even if it’s just her mind playing tricks on her.

— i think the first time it happened, she’s very quick to pull herself together. and then she’s very self aware of what’s happening.

— i think she’d feel a lot of guilt.. you’ve passed, and you should rest easy- and here she is still clinging onto the past. you’d be upset if you saw her like this, which is the only reason she’d try to push it away.

— still though.. she can’t help it. you look so real, and who’s it hurting? it’s not hurting her, that’s for sure. it makes her happy.

— would do anything to feel your presence once more, maybe staring at your photo as she cuddles with a pillow.. purposely not sleeping, so the chances of her hallucinating you are higher..

swansea

— like jimmy, he’d go crazy. mentally, he’s struggled before, but not to the extent where he’s seeing vivid images of you. i’d scare the shit out of him.

— would.. likely delve back into alcoholism. what’s the point of being sober if his spouse isn't alive? not like they’ll know anyway. he’d feel maybe a bit of guilt but not enough to stop.

— he would not be able to work properly. maybe only with daisuke, as he knows he can’t break down infront of some kid. he’s old enough to know how to hold himself together.

— maybe similar to anya, there’s slight feelings of comfort. but he can’t do that to you, so he tries his best to move the fuck on over it.

daisuke

— he’d be scared, severely. as the youngest of the crew, he’s constantly hearing things about how life is only gonna get worse as you grow older.. and he thinks, ‘there’s things worse than hallucinating my dead partner in store for me?’

— would try to push through it. put on a happy face in front of his co-workers and parents, as you sit there in the back of his mind.

— he wouldn’t know what to do. he doesn’t wanna bother anyone, doesn’t wanna be a burden. he wants people to look at him and think highly of him, not pity him.

— spends a lot of his free time just.. laying in bed. distracting himself with his hobbies and interests no longer works as he can’t bring himself to care.

— he’d draw often, i think. mostly you. only because he knows how upset you’d be if you found out he’d given up drawing.