#hope the bubble doesn't blow up by the time i return though

[maranull]

there is something pretty neat about this

also hi, ED screenshots dump:

flying just below or just above planetary rings is always really cool

on a moon almost 10k ly away from Earth but somehow still giving arctic vibes

black hole inside a nebula, derelict tourist megaship and two other nebulas breaking through the blue-purple veil. extremely nice location

and a mountain at my current resting place ✌

[bunnyyyuu]

hellooooo vampireyuuta :3 can we pls talk about……. ehem…………….. vampire yuuta perhaps…… he’d be so sweet me thinks

includes: f! reader, aged up! vampire yuuta, blood, dubcon-ish

i fear my vampire knowledge is shit and this is not accurate to vampire lore. blame my babysitters a vampire (ghe only vampire media ive consumed). sorry chat

he is such a sweetie pie. he's real gentle with you (and literally only you). unfortunately for him, urges are strong and he is so hungry. but, he is stronger than that! he can find other people to feed on and turn, plus he can just avoid kissing your body.

but that sucks! he wants you.

your blood smells so good (yes he can smell it, yes it's kind of embarrassing when he mentions it), and your neck just looks so empty and bare — you deserve those two little marks on it! he knows that your blood would taste so good, nothing like the supply he has. he knows he'd just get addicted to the sweet taste if you let him.

he gets antsy after a while of being together, and he just can't help himself anymore. though, he's not gonna do anything against your will.

he starts shoving his face in the crook of your neck in literally every hug you share (and you guys hug a lot). you can feel him practically panting against your skin as he nuzzles his nose against you. he judt grumbles and whines when you tell him "that tickles!"

god forbid you accidentally slice your finger while you two are making dinner together. he immediately whips his head around to where you're cutting up some veggies. his first instinct is to be concered, but his second is to ogle that crimson fluid bubbling from the slit you'd opened on the tip of your finger. he watches you shove your finger into your mouth to ease to sting, face scrunched in pain.

he just stares for a second, statue still. his eyes are so dilated as the smell and sight if your blood floods his mind — there's barely even a sliver of those deep indigo irises as his hollow pupils blow up. the already scent overbearing scent that is usually all yuuta can smell has increaed by tenfold: it's suffocating.

"yuuta —" you hiss, words muffled by your digit still between your lips, "bandaid!"

he blinks at you once. twice. "oh," he nods, his pupils returning to normal, "yes, yes. sorry, honey..."

he can't help but sneak glances at your bandaged finger during dinner as the pad of the bandaid gets stained with your blood. he knows he's being weird — but, you don't care, right? you've told him everything he does — weird or not — is okay as long as he doesn't feed on you! which he'd never do (at least, not if you don't want him to).

yuuta's extra strange after that. he wishes he wasn't, but, in the back of his mind, he's hoping that maybe you'll slip up like that again and create another shallow gash in your flesh. and, that time, he'll be there to lap up your cherry gore instead. though, he'd never say that. he doesn't want you to intentionally hurt yourself, but, hey, accidents happen! but, that's not the only thing wracking his brain for weeks after the vegetable-cutting-incident.

it's, unfortunately, during sex that he finally has the guts to air out all the things swarming his mind.

his fat tip is pushing past your entrance barely two minutes after he had you seeing stars with his fingers. his chest is flush against yours — missionary — and his face is, once again, buried in the crook of your neck.

"ohhhh, baby," he groans when your cunt excitedly clenches around his cockhead, his mouth falling open. you shiver a little at both sensations: the unfamiliarity of his lips on your neck (kissing your neck is something he avoids like the plauge) and the not-so-unfamiliar stretch of your hole.

you gasp when he doesn't push himself in any further and instead, for whatever reason, plants a wet kiss on the collum of your throat.

"i need to talk to you," he murmurs.

your eyes, previously gently shut, open and grow wide. "w-what? now?" your voice sounds so weak, shaky — his cock throbs at just the sweet sound of it. he could just eat you up.

"yes, now. please," he murmurs with another peck on your skin.

your head is spinning. his lips, always so soft and still leaving gentle smooches on your neck, almost tickle. and, the pulsing of his leaky, pink tip inside you. he's so desperate to go deeper — knowing that, if he was fucking you stupid, it would be much easier to have this conversation — but he doesn't, despite the overwhelming need.

"okay," you mumble with a tiny nod.

he doesn't talk for a moment, leaving you impatient. he's just kissing your neck. not sucking hickeys or nipping at it, just planting little pecks. something's off, clearly. the second you decide to speak, though, you're cut off.

"yuuta, what is —"

"i want you," he pulls back just enough to rest his face above yours, sweaty foreheads touching, tips of noses grazing, "i want you," he repeats when you don't answer.

"w-want me, how?" you meekly ask after a beat of dry-mouthed silence.

"i —" he takes a shaky breath, hot air fanning your face, "want you. i-i don't know. 'wanna feed or turn you, bite you — i-i don't care. just... need your blood, angel."

again, you're left stunned. you almost ask him to repeat himself, unsure if maybe your horny mind is playing tricks on you. but, you heard him. you know what he asked. and, maybe it's the way butterflies flapped their wings in your tummy at his words or maybe it's how insatiably you need him right now and, god, if agreeing will get him to properly fuck you, you'll do it.

you can almost feel how his nerves spike at your silence. though, those nerves seem to be eased by the way he pushes his cock further into your needy pussy — about halfway in. he doesn't even notice when you promptly smack! his back that you'd been digging your nails into a few seconds ago.

"y-yuuta!" you whine, "'m trying to t-talk!"

if he were a worse man, he'd probably keep going. but, he's not, so he stills himself upon your request. he mutters a basically inaudible apology.

there's another beat of silence. you gently rub over the red handprint you'd left on his back (though it didn't hurt him one bit).

"did i scare you?" he whispers when his anxiety grows almost all consuming.

"no — no, yuu, you've never scared me," you instantly reassure him with a small peck on his frowning lips, "i just..."

it's definitely the brain fog from how he's stretching your cunny (even though it's still not enough) and your last orgasm still thrumming through you. but, something in your head is telling you yes yes yes!

maybe it's — no, not maybe. this is a bad idea. do you want to live forever? not really. do you want to durvive off human blood? definitely not. do you —

your mind is a mess, but, "okay," is all you have to say.

it hurts — his teeth digging into your flesh — it hurts like hell. it's an abundance of pain that courses all throughout your body. the only thing stopping you from screaming and crying as his fangs pierce your neck is how yuuta's cock is pushing in to the hilt.

your crimson blood pools from those two little punctures for a mere second before he speedily licks it up with his tongue. he moans louder than you think you've ever heard at the taste, his hips sloppily stuttering up into you. he can hear your panting and feel the tears falling down your cheeks and into his hair as he suck, suck, sucks your blood.

the smell and the taste of you, unfiltered, unrestrained, is all too much for him.

"i'm sorry," he mumbles, "i love you, i'm sorry, thank you — i love you so much," he's chanting incoherently against your new wound whilst slamming into you over and over again.

is he really sorry? no. he's not.

this is what he's wanted since he first met you — to live with you forever. he wants to love you like this always, blood and all.

[oneatlatime]

The Painted Lady

Air Bison, Sea Bison, and now Sludge Bison.

I have no idea how Aang is swimming through a solid. Must be an Avatar thing.

I bet there would be time for more potty breaks if Sokka hadn't spent 100+ hours of their time drawing up the schedule. A very Sokka thing to do though.

Because hills often have horns. Great disguise.

You can't tell me that a factory that close to their town wouldn't also become the town's primary employer.

That is a lot of town.

I sense a return of preachy Katara. This episode is going to suck.

I'm with Sokka on this one. Buy fish, move on, defeat Firelord, return to help with environmental remediation if time permits.

I like Doc. And Shu. Nice people.

Writers: if you have to make one of your characters an entirely different person to set up the episode's lesson of the week, maybe the lesson doesn't fit your chosen characters. This is the Warriors of Kyoshi all over again. Funny how that's happened to Sokka twice.

We are all Sokka.

And where exactly did this mysterious painted lady get the food to deliver to the village, if the reason the Gaang stopped in the village in the first place was because they needed food?

Let the record show: I lost the last of my patience with this episode 8 minutes and 9 seconds in.

Waterbending healing has never thrown off that much light before. Even the spirit oasis water wasn't that bright.

Also where is the water she's healing with? Usually she has a big bubble of it.

Impersonating a religious figure. That won't end badly.

"Well I hope she returns every night otherwise this place would go right back to the way it was." YES!!!!!! THAT'S THE POINT!!!!!

What was Katara's plan? Forget about the eclipse, forget about fighting the Fire Lord, we're going to stay here for the rest of our lives so that the painted lady can put in a nightly appearance. THIS IS WHY SOKKA DOES THE PLANNING.

Spirit magic is more doing the worm than doing the wave. Good to know.

Bold of a kids' show to advocate for ecoterrorism.

Aang's like "Hey spirit lady! Here's my resume! Here's my connections on LinkedIn!" Why did Katara think that faking being a spirit within two feet of the bridge to the spirit world would be consequence free? Actually that presupposes that Katara thought. Which she didn't. Sokka does her thinking.

"I don't get to meet many spirits. But the ones I do meet, not very attractive." I am OFFENDED on Yue's behalf. And Sokka's. I guess Aang doesn't like Water Tribe girls after all.

"I guess I just became her." No. That's an excuse and a deflection. I don't want to hear it.

What was I saying about Aang and Katara enabling each others' bad tendencies?

Sokka is horribly out of character this episode, but Aang is as well. In what universe would Aang be so unbothered by Appa being sick, and then so unbothered by the reveal that Katara had been faking Appa being sick? Like, this is Appa. He nearly skinned a bunch of sandbenders over the guy. And he finds out Katara's been messing with him and calls her 'great' and 'a secret hero.'

So this factory, despite being operational 24/7, has no night staff, not even a night guard? Because if it does (which it absolutely does - automation is a problem for factories in our world, not the ATLA one), Katara and Aang just killed A LOT of people.

And so she follows up one short term solution with another short term solution, which causes a third problem she will no doubt solve with a short term solution. You think there won't be reprisals for the only obvious suspects to this industrial sabotage? You think they won't rebuild the factory?

Sokka was kidding when he said that the Spirit Lady had better blow up the factory, but not in the way Katara thought he was kidding. Katara thought he wasn't being serious. But Sokka was serious, in that blowing up the factory is as short term a solution as appearing every night. He thought the joke - exchanging one bad solution for another - was obvious.

Somebody's enjoying himself a little too much.

Unfortunately, serving as Exhibit A is the most Toph has had to do all episode.

It is cathartic to see someone finally call Katara on her nonsense. But I'll bet everything I own that the narrative is going to side with her anyway.

Welp. I won that bet.

"You need me." Correct! Katara unsupervised needs bailing out after five minutes. "And I will never turn my back on you." A much more realistic goal than never turning your back on anyone who needs you, and also Sokka summarised in one sentence. Impressive for an episode where they had to Flanderise him beyond recognition to make Katara somehow the good guy.

Oh for fuck's sake. It's not about having a heart. This late in the game it's pure damage control.

So that's where the Painted Lady's food came from. I guess Fire Nation factories count as pirates?

I like the jetskis. The seem far more stable than actual jetskis.

It never occurred to Katara to obscure the evidence even a little bit? At least rub some dirt on the emblem. Look at me assuming Katara has thoughts.

Actual reprisals for once. About time.

This kid is annoying.

Toph gets to be a haunted house sound effects machine.

That's awfully waterbendery for a Fire Nation spirit.

I don't buy for a minute that anyone would be able to stay perfectly upright and balanced after an air blast from below without extensive trampoline training.

This won't work. His superiors, or the next shift change, or the first recruit wanting to climb the ranks quickly, will rise to the challenge presented here by the "painted lady." And as soon as one FN attack goes unchallenged by the "painted lady," the village is toast. I give them a week, tops.

Kudos to some clever in-universe bending special effects. Doesn't save the episode though.

Katara's preachy speech here makes absolutely no sense in light of the rest of the episode. Scolding them for not saving themselves, when waiting around for someone to save them appears to have worked perfectly? And having little miss I-must-save-the-whole-world-on-a-weekly-basis-otherwise-my-sense-of-self-implodes deliver that scold?

Who are these people wearing the Gaang's skin?

Yeah, nothing screams undercover in enemy territory like an entire village knowing that you're a waterbender. Good thing the only competent tracker in the Fire Nation is Zuko, otherwise these kids will absolutely be dead long before the eclipse.

Hi Bushi! You're about the only part of this episode that doesn't drive me nuts!

At least the animators had fun with this one.

Is this guy mopping the river?

Exactly how many days did they take out of Sokka's schedule to restore the ecosystem? I don't care how overlevelled these kids are at bending, you cannot mechanically separate an entire river's worth of dirt from water in an afternoon.

Well that's just he piss icing on the shit cake, isn't it? It wasn't enough for Sokka to lose all reason and come around to Katara's very flawed way of thinking, it wasn't enough for Aang to call her a hero, it wasn't enough to have a village worshipping at her feet, Katara needs affirmations of how right and special and correct and perfect and morally justified she is from the spirit world itself. This is Mary Sue stuff.

Final Thoughts

This is the first time an episode of Avatar has felt like a waste of my time.

It's also the first time I've felt like an episode has gone out of its way to insult the audience.

Katara talking about how she knows what she's doing is wrong is worth absolutely nothing when a) she goes right back to doing it; and b) literally every other part of this episode trips over itself to assure Katara that she's in the right.

Katara is downright punchable this episode. Sokka is Flanderised; Toph is non-existent; Aang is just there; poor Appa is an unwitting accessory to crime; and Momo has as much impact as a housefly.

So the execs forgot about the existence of The Spirit World Part One and demanded a save the environment special episode. The writers responded by forgetting that they'd already established that Katara was ride or die for literally anyone with a pulse in Imprisoned, and gave us this to remind us of that fact. They also forgot that they'd already established that Katara has no moral code whatsoever the minute her personal interest is involved in The Waterbending Scroll, so they decided to recycle the "narrative sides with Katara endangering them all over Sokka being reasonable" plot from that episode and hope we wouldn't notice. We did.

At least with Imprisoned, Katara kind of sort of caused the problem that she fixed. She was super tangentially involved in that kid's arrest. Here, she causes problems by trying to fix problems that she didn't really have any business getting involved in.

The more of this I watched, the more I wanted someone to slap Katara. What I wouldn't give for an episode where she is wrong (has happened a lot) and the episode doesn't pretend otherwise (has never happened). For god's sake, LET HER BE WRONG AND FEEL IT. How else is she going to progress past being self-righteously fourteen? Why is she being so consistently insulated from consequences? Aang chooses power over family at the end of season two and gets actually murdered for it. Katara steals, lies, skirts dangerously close to being a false prophet and does a nifty little ecoterrorism (with Aang's help), and she gets villagers being a bit shouty before big brother comes in and fixes it. Then she gets divine sanction for her actions so even the shouty bit is negated.

There's an interesting contrast in Katara's "I will never turn my back on people who need me" and Sokka's "I will never turn my back on you." It shows which of the two doesn't have their head in the clouds, and has actually formulated realistic expectations of how much a single person can do. It also speaks to the fundamental difference in how they operate. Katara acts; Sokka mitigates. Sokka does Katara's thinking for her; Katara outsources her thinking and then gets pissed when rational thoughts don't conform to her emotions' view of the world.

Why haven't the villagers moved away? If the water was poisoning them this much, why are they still here? Was the early 2000s too early to have a theme of climate refugees? Or the pollution equivalent? That would have been more interesting than this.

I hated this. Why isn't this the episode that gets hated on like the Great Divide? Its sins are nothing compared to this.

Doc, Shu, and Bushi were the only good thing in this episode, but they weren't enough to make this one remotely rewatchable.

One out of Three so far on season three episode quality. No other season has had this bad a ratio this early. This does not bode well for the rest of this season.

[astrobolical]

When he realizes it's love-

Content Warnings: Mild Angst (It's Xiao), brief mentions of battles, brief mention of wounds (nothing depicted)

Reader: Female

I wanted to do something soft for Xiao, while still trying to maintain that adamant determination he has that he doesn't deserve anything nice (seriously buddy, you do).

As a previous Xiao main, I hope I did him justice.

Xiao felt his body ache as he dealt the final blow to his foes, their pained cries falling upon deaf ears as the Adeptus carefully surveyed his surroundings one more time. There was no further movement in the plains of Liyue, no monsters lurking in the darkened, shadowy corners of the night. He had done his duty as he always did, despite the protest of his body and how heavy his spear felt in his hand. He would never speak of the weight bearing down on him from all sides, of the suffocating pressure of his Karmic Debt-- it was his, and only his, to bear. 

On nights like this, however, Xiao felt an urge bubble up within his chest. One that had been growing more familiar as the nights passed him by. Suddenly the blur of days beginning and ending had seemed to slow. The morning sun warmed him in ways he’d forgotten it could over the long, lonely centuries. 

In those moments when the morning light warmed his skin he felt as if something he’d forgotten was returning to him. It startled him, admittedly, the warmth blooming in his chest. How his mind would wander in his sparse moments of freedom to a singular human woman-- you. Xiao hated himself for it, endangering you for some selfish whim, an impulse he struggled to reign in. But since he’d met you, things had changed. Slowly at first, sure, but over time it was undeniable that somehow the weight on his body had lessened.

He came to find himself searching for you, even if he dared not approach again of his own accord. Simply the sight of your smile in the crowd, knowing you were safe and sound eased the darkness in his heart. 

But when you would call, Xiao would move before his mind could think. The melodic tone of your voice is a spell he dare not break, a desire he could scarcely allow himself to indulge in. In these moments, he’d come to you, he’d ignore the distance he’d put between the two of you and allow you as close as you would come. His warnings never made you hesitate, when he’d chastise you for coming to find him you’d simply grace him with your laugh.

When he asked you why you’d rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sitting on the grassy plains, he remembers how you laid back, staring up at the clear blue skies above. Reaching up as though you could grasp it in your small hand. “Because no one deserves to be alone.” You’d said, softly yet determined, looking over in his direction.

He’d come to recall that day, over and over in the night. How the light had danced across your skin, how carefree you’d been, how vulnerable.

‘No one deserves… to be alone?’ He wondered, eyes wandering towards the pale, silvery moon above. Subconsciously he reached towards it, until it appeared like he could grasp it in his hand. A mirror of your innocence, an attempt to understand. Golden eyes closed as he let out a sigh, the cool breeze against his skin.

And then he was moving, a blur against the night, yet footsteps silent. His mind was loud, racing, a mix of protests and reasoning. But his feet found the sturdy support of a too-familiar tree, the sight of your home silencing his echoing thoughts for just a moment. 

Once again, he’d run to you. Without your call, without rhyme or reason. 

You were there, sitting in the quiet night, sleepily reading in the dim lights by the window. Your eyes drifting closed only to fight back open, your chin lazily resting on your palm, propping yourself up. You looked so peaceful that Xiao debated turning back around, returning to the fields and finding whatever creature he could-- he’d destroy anything to keep your peace. But tonight he let out a shaky breath, he pushed his reluctance deeper down, pushed those worries and fears as far down as he could manage. 

For the first time, Xiao took a step towards you.

“Y/N.” He spoke, barely a whisper, but it carried through the open window and you startled, jumping in your seat as your head whipped towards him. Your wide eyes met his own, and he was overcome with a blooming warmth as your brief terror melted immediately into the smile he’d grown to crave. You didn’t react with reverence or fear, instead you stood, rushing to your door to greet him. 

“Xiao!” Your voice speaking his name made that warmth bloom further, moving throughout his tired body, reinvigorating his muscles into movement as you approached, meeting you halfway between your door and the window. “Are you okay?” Your eyes searched his form as he nodded-- now that he was before you he felt as though there were no words he could form. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You motioned for him to follow, but seeing his tired gaze, his slow response, you frowned. You reached out, tentatively touching his hand with yours. Xiao didn’t pull away, simply stared at where the two of you had connected-- such an innocent touch, so pure, so simple. So kind. You didn’t see him as a weapon, a tool to protect. You saw him as Xiao. 

It hit him then, as your small hand grasped his, leading him towards your abode, it struck his heart in a way he’d never experienced before-- you saw him. 

Every instinct told him to vanish back into the night, flee from the soft warmth spreading between your bodies where they met. This was wrong, he was dangerous-- just by being near you he was risking you. Yet when you turned, guiding him to sit in front of the small fireplace in your home, he didn’t resist. “You can rest here, Xiao. You’re safe here.” You smiled, before moving to walk away-- he didn’t know where, or why-- but you didn’t make it far. His hand reached out and grasped your wrist-- a ghost of a touch, but enough to make you pause.

Your wide eyes, your red tinted cheeks, it was nearly too much for the Adeptus to bear. 

“Stay.” He breathed. He didn’t need anything else-- he, perhaps, was not entirely sure why, but he merely wanted your company. He’d come this far, against his better judgment. Just a moment, a fleeting moment… he could allow himself that, couldn’t he? The centuries of bloodshed and pain… surely they could amount to such a small moment.

“Of course…” You seemed embarrassed at his request, sitting beside him, merely a breath away from him. You held his hand, your gaze settled where he’d grabbed you.

It was the first time he’d touched you.

It meant that much to you? 

Perhaps he couldn’t understand fully what you felt, he was still learning to comprehend the vast array of human emotions. 

You remained quiet, enjoying the peaceful moment so late in the night, unperturbed by your unexpected guest. You didn’t suggest he sleep, or rest, or eat… you let him be. 

You let him be, and he wanted to be with you.

Xiao inhaled sharply at the dangerous thought, though caught himself before he could worry you. He nearly pulled away, nearly fled at the very thought he wanted to remain by your side as long as he could. Selfishly putting you at unnecessary risk because he was tired. 

“Xiao?” Your curious voice dragged him from his thoughts, and his gaze snapped to yours just a little too quickly. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” You didn’t need to worry-- you had no idea how much you affected the Adeptus with your very presence. Had no idea the hold you had on him. Xiao sighed, looking away from you as he spoke. “Thank you for allowing me in.” 

You were silent for a moment. “Anytime, Xiao. You’re always welcome here.” 

The two of you sat in peace, listening to the crackling fire. Xiao felt light, as though his body wasn’t covered in wounds, like he wasn’t weighed down by the crushing pressures of his sins. He felt safe, for the first time in centuries. 

In that moment he knew, he knew as he gripped your hand a little tighter. As you finally gave way to sleep, your head resting on his shoulder. When he didn’t move away, instead gazing softly at your sleeping form.

He knew, deep down, that he would protect you over anything else. Xiao was certain of what the warmth within his chest was, how you could alleviate his pain just with your presence. 

He knew that he’d crossed a line that he’d never dared to think of. Something he didn’t deserve, something he shouldn’t allow himself to have… but perhaps, just for tonight, he could remain by your side for just a little longer.

You.

The human he loved.

[haruniki]

Alright, mermaid ei request, reader spends time getting scuba certified, then after a while of not seeing Ei, shows up with the gear so Ei can show them around without the worry of drowning

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i love this idea so much, this weekend im gonna try to make a lore sheet thingy for this au. If not this weekend then during my spring break! I hope you enjoy!! And again I do apologize if it's too short🥹🫶🫶

Mermaid!Ei w/ a scuba diver! reader

Taking in consideration that it can take 3-4 days to get the certification to for the open water certification, I do believe that Ei wouldn't be too worried.

She knows that you have a life above the water but that doesn't mean that she's any less worried or lonely without you.

When you finally return to the ocean with scuba gear, Ei is surprised. She had seen humans before with flippers and those strange container(s) on their backs

You had to explain to her that you were away for so long because you wanted to be able to spend longer in the water with her

Ei, now relived that you weren't ignore, has so many things she wishes to show you! She wants to take you all over the Inazuman ocean.

It takes her a bit to get used to seeing you with all that gear on. And she quickly realizes that you can't quite fit through smaller spaces, though that's mostly due to Ei's size compare to other merfolk

Very interested in your oxygen tank. How can you fit that much air into the tank? She's so fascinated by it. Wants to know everything she can about and see if she can somehow replicate something similar to the tank but make it to wear you don't have to wear all that gear

Swims in circles around you if you ever have to put on in the water. And she most definitely watches as you put on the gear out of water. Ei asks many questions about all the items and why you need them. Though she does think all of it will slow you down in the water.

You've always swam slower than her and now your still slow but now that tou have a longer limited amount of oxygen she doesn't quite mind waiting. Ei might drag you along to quicken the pace to get to your desire location

Seeing as though you have the oxygen mouth piece, if your able to do/make a air bubble heart Ei would be even more smitten with you

She might even make one back, or just blow a couple of bubbles in your direction

Doesn't go to far from where you both usually meet. Ei knows that there's limited air in those strange containers so she doesn't want to stray to far away or too far down in case you run out

She's also glad that the suits you wear with the gear is warm. It's not necessarily vold in the Inazuman part of the ocean but it does get cold sometimes.

I believe the most annoying part for Ei is her not being able to see your face.

Before she was able to see all the feature that she had deemed beautiful, not to mention she was able to kiss you when she had wanted. Now she had to wait until you both departed from each other.

" These pesky human devices. It's not fair i have to wait to kiss you, not to mention this apparel isn't as nice as your old one. Though, it is nice to have you in water longer with me."

Overall, i think she would be incredibly happy that your able to spend longer time with her. Though she does hope one day to be apart of your human life or perhaps you entering her world?

Whatever the case, she's happy to have you by her side.

[theunspokenart]

Baby Noona's Birthday🎂🩵

"Sweetheart, is it done?" Calla asked curiously with eyes being blindfolded, her hands grasping his shirt. She couldn't see any light, only the darkness. Therefore, she doesn't stay away too long from him.

"Alright, here you go, sweetheart! Now you may get rid of the blindfold." Calla followed his instructions, slowly she opened her eyes and found him all giddy with the birthday cake along with colorful candles that caught her attention.

"Happy birthday, Baby Noona! You are now 21!Make a wish first, before you blow out these candles." Theo greeted her by flashing a wide smile. He can see the sparks from her eyes lit up with surprise. Calla shut her eyes closed, hands placed under her chin while holding it tight. She started to pray for all the wishes she has at her current age.

"Now, let me count on one, two, three!" Within seconds, Calla immediately blew out the candles and the room was filled with laughter! Theo seems all satisfied with the birthday surprise, however he forgot to pass the handwritten letter for Calla.

"Oh crap, I almost forgot the important part! I have prepared a letter for you, baby. Hehe, I hope you will love it." Said Theo with his nervous laugh, even caressing his nape awkwardly while handing it out to Calla.

She received it with the cheeky smile upon her face, and began to read it thoroughly.

Dear Mircalla,

The moment you open this letter, I hope your smile grows wider than ever. You have been living for 21 years now and I feel like you are way ahead of me. Is it because of the age gap between us? I think it's crazy to think that we're only months apart but felt like you are the mature noona I've known for so long. Just joking around! Actually, I am sad that you turned into 21, which means I will also follow this path... as an oldie? 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

However, I feel like turning 21 would be exciting. It means the beginning of many adventures to come. They said, 20s would be the moment of people cherishing their life and I wonder how fun that would be!

Mircalla, it's such a blessing to see you growing, even celebrating this special day with you! I wonder what kind of person you're on 21 years old. They said, people will grow beautifully after their birthday. Maybe this also applies to you as well, my dear. Have I ever told you before? You are truly the definition of beauty inside out. Like, your personality already speaks volumes. Though people may find you funny, or that silly girl, but actually you are more than that. You have such a pure heart, and you're also empathetic towards your surroundings. You never take people for granted, instead, you're willing to give them all without expecting anything in return. This side of you still amazed me until today and I couldn't be more proud of you.

Mircalla, thank you for always showing me your true self. When someone reveals their true selves, that means they feel comfortable around that person! I hope you still feel comfortable with me, Calla. I don't really mind witnessing more sides of you as I would be your #1 Hype Boy. That way, I can understand you better than anyone else. Another thing, please don't stop being happy and bubbly! I love to see my baby filled with happiness most of the time. It's such a heartwarming scene for me. Your smile itself is contagious, so everyone will be delighted to see your smile! Including me. 😉❤

Hehehe now that you've been reading it all, I feel relieved already. Thank you for sparing your time to read this short yet (still) meaningful birthday greeting from me! I hope you can enjoy this birthday to the fullest, my dear. May you always be gifted with all the good things in life.

I love you so so much! I couldn't wait to celebrate another birthday with you, my dear Mircalla. Also, thank you for spending five months together with me! My heart always beats for you, Mircalla. 🥺❤

[mangocheesecakeicecream]

At the level of the drive there are openings galore and that's the important thing to remember about the

drive the first headline that we have here is this the cause of Desire is the object of the

drive the cause of Desire is the experience of lack 

but I do want to emphasize this object little a is a symbol for the experience of lack the little hole in

the middle of the a to indicate where things ain't that little a marks the object cause of desire it tells us that there's an experience of lack that gets the wheel of Desire rolling rolling towards objects that we hope stuff into that lack

desire moves quickly away from its cause it doesn't want to deal with lack and yet that is precisely what desire always winds up with you might even say the Telos of Desire is more desire and by extension a kind of blinded relationship to the lack that causes it desire though moves in a different direction from Drive Drive starts with all this stuff that we think we want all the imaginary fixations in the world of stuff objects

things consumer entities quids and quods and widgets and moves from them quickly back to the cause of Desire symbolized again by object little a that's why I say the cause of Desire is the object of the drive and these two things are moving in different directions desire proceeds via sublimation as far as the drive is concerned we'll talk about that the drive as I said last time proceeds via desublimation it proceeds from the stuff these objects that have been elevated to the Dignity of the thing which is an unfortunate takeaway from seminar 7. not that Lacan doesn't mean what he's saying there when he says that sublimation shows that ordinary objects are elevated to the level of the thing dignified even with the level of the thing what's important to note though is the indignity that Das ding suffers when ordinary objects are brought to bear what the drive does is it reverses that process it de-sublimates moving from imaginary objects stuff that desire is constantly chasing the object of Desire back to the cause of Desire not objects but openings and that's important here because the opening that conditions desire is an opening caused by the prohibition of an object typically a body part connected to another opening one of many mouths on the human body prohibit the breast and weaning makes the mouth not just an erogenous Zone because it's full of nerve endings but one that's supercharged with Logics of prohibition and these openings the erogenous zones sources of the drive are portals to what we really lack which is libido so you can see how the drive and reversing the course of Desire is going to march us from imaginary objects to objects little a back to partial objects from there to the erogenous zones to which these objects remain attached at some level and through those erogenous zones which are archaic residues of libido by the way back into this pure undivided sense of life a body that is pre-organized not disorganized this may be the body without organs that question is still open for us my point at this level is just to emphasize the amount of openings and portals that the drive accesses it does not work at the level of the object it works at the level of the opening erogenous zones sources of the drive these are openings object causes object little a this is an opening it's not an object it's a lack a space an opening you might even say the Circuit of the drive the circuit itself that comes up loops around like a child blowing bubbles with gum and returns back to its source even the Circuit of the drive that it runs around the opening that is a little a forms itself a kind of open structure a vascular structure that's partly why we ended our last lecture on the drive talking about my kiddo blowing bubbles think about the musculature and the way we use the fence of the teeth and the tongue and the lips and crucially air inhaled exhaled into the bubble brought back in that pulsative rhythmic in out through openings most of which can be closed also is crucial not just to the drive it's also crucial to psychoanalysis ...psychoanalysis is a science we talked about this last time as well

but it is not a science that is concerned with objectivity with objects in the world it's not concerned with stuff it's concerned with the cause

for Stuff it's concerned not with objects but with openings its target is not objectivity its stake is not objectivity but instead what I called objectality which is not the study of objects in the

world but instead of a certain dimension of the world that makes objects possible objectality studies the condition of possibility for stuff that modern science can then focus on and study so the object of inquiry in psychoanalysis is also an opening at the level of the cause and that's the science of psychoanalysis it's a science of cause

that's why we talk about object as the object cause of Desire we're concerned with causes less so with effects although many of the key Concepts in psychoanalysis are effects the real Jouissance as we

often conceive of it these are effect structures of castration and the symbolic but it's at the level of the cause that Lacan sees psychoanalysis developing

-Samuel McCormick

[17020s]

HI!! GODDDD I LOVE UR ISAGI FIC!! heard u need ideas hehe desperately need to hear ur thoughts on domestic rin please 🙏

DOMESTIC LIFE

what's it like to live with rin itoshi? 1.1k fluff. ai you have such a big brain i love u i hope i did this right

rin itoshi likes domesticity. when he realized that he was now earning enough money to invest in a home of his own, he didn't think twice—he needed to have a space of his own. he starts off with an apartment. nothing too big, as he knows that there will be only two people living there, and he will not have people coming over.

yes, he took your presence into consideration as he searched for a place to live. you are his significant other, and have been with him for a few years, ever since you were teenagers. it was somewhat awkward for him, it was either you going over to his house or him going to yours, but there was never a sense of privacy.

he didn't tell you right away. in fact, he waited until everything was ready to tell you. because he doesn't want for you to experience that same awkwardness with your family like he did. he wants you all to himself. rin itoshi wants to be with you for as long as he can.

the domestic life suits him. he excels at everything. chores are split, but if he notices that you're too tired (whether it's from having a bad day, period pains, or anything really) he won't hesitate to pick up where you left off. he'll do it, letting out a few complaints. those are all bullshit, though. he wants to help you out as much as he can. rin will subtly ask for affection in return.

laundry day is what gets him excited. he carries the dirty laundry basket and you place the clothes inside the washer. he will never admit it, but he likes doing the laundry with you. there is always something new that you show him. one time, you mixed together some detergent and water, making a soapy mixture. you dipped your hands in the liquid, forming an 'o' shape and blowing on it. rin was fighting the small smile that was forming on his face, just because you were blowing bubbles. you see the fun side of life, and he likes that.

then, you move the clothes to the dryer, and once they're done, he carries the basket back to your shared bedroom, laying all the clothes on the bed so that you can start folding them. he turns on the tv, handing you the remote so that you can pick your favorite show to watch. it's the least he can do, since he forces you to watch a horror movie with him every two weeks. he can handle anything you put on, even if it's some soap opera he does not know of.

(you get rin hooked on some of your favorite shows. he'll never admit that. he judges absolutely everything and everyone, yes, but it's entertaining.)

folding the newly washed clothes with rin is nice. his technique isn't bad; if a shirt or pant ends up wrinkly, he'll shrug. "that's what the steamer is for, idiot" is his response. he always stands in front of you as he folds, so he can sneak glances and see your concentrated face as you try to fold your clothes to minimize wrinkles.

cleaning the house every week is a must. his height gives him a big advantage, so he cleans the highest spots of the house. sometimes, when he's cleaning cabinets, you take advantage of his position, that leaves his torso free and exposed to potential danger. that danger being you, who attempts to tackle him into a hug.

as i mentioned previously, rin makes you watch a horror film with him once every two weeks. he wants to have his fun too, he even makes popcorn for you. you have rin as your personalized pillow, sometimes sitting on his lap as his hands cover your face when he senses a jumpscare is coming.

rin is one of the best cooks you'll ever meet. unlike his brother, he can make a decent meal. being a pro athlete means that, most of the time, he needs to have his meals prepped. and he does just that. he plans his meals for the week and shops accordingly. he asks you if you would like a meal plan, and will respect it if you say 'no'. if you do, he'll take you grocery shopping with him, explaining a few things about minerals and vitamins that you can find in food. he's a food geek.

cooking together doesn't happen very often due to his job, but when it does, it's magical. it makes you feel like you're a teenager again, with his arm grazing yours, him looking away while the tip of his ears are pink, taking a spoonful of the food and feeding it to him as a taste test. he likes the food you make, and you like his.

once, you came home from grocery shopping, and rin was cooking. he doesn't bother to use aprons, he thinks he looks ridiculous wearing them. as you stepped in to greet him, he was caught off guard. he accidentally spilled some flour, making it fall on his black shirt. rin itoshi does not make the same mistake twice, so the next time you saw him cook, he had himself an apron. you took a picture of him, which is now your wallpaper.

showers are calming, especially when rin is there. he is too shy to shower together with you. it might happen at some point, but not now. when he's showering, you're usually brushing your teeth next to him, the only thing keeping you apart being the shower curtain. he does the same to you; when he's combing his hair and you're showering, he asks you about the weather, how you're doing, and your plans for the day.

the sad part about living with rin, though, is the fact that he wakes up before you, and sometimes leaves while you still sleep. he sends you a text, explaining why he had to leave earlier, and that he loves you. he gets up early to work out, and also to go to football practice. when you do wake up at the same time he does, he is internally happy. still, he forces you to go back to bed, because he thinks he was the one to wake you up on accident.

overall, living with rin is comforting. he wants what's best for you, and he really likes your company. he's glad he moved out, and he's glad you're with him. he doesn't say it often, but he's grateful to have met someone as wonderful as you.

[hxney-lemcn]

Try Again Tomorrow — Hunter x gn! reader

Summery: Reader doesn't know much about their soulmate, just that he tends to get hurt and he misses sleep a lot. But then things change and they finally are able to meet him.

tw: depressive themes.

a/n: Soulmate au!! You meet your soulmate in your dreams and you can interact with them. I keep making hurt/comfort with Hunter and I can't stop, someone help me.

wc: 1.9k

Master List

soul mate

/ˈsōl ˌmāt/

Noun

a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

In the Boiling Isles, soulmates were a common occurrence. In fact, you’d be the odd one out if you didn’t have one, but that was rare. I first met my soulmate when I was six. You see, you meet your soulmate in your dreams. Since I was so young when we met, I told my parents and they then explained what that meant.

“Hello,” I said. I was in a field of flowers, the wind blowing gently. A boy that seemed about my age was sitting in the middle. He had blonde hair, and magenta eyes. I walked over to him as he looked up at me in surprise. He looked…scared? But I didn’t know why. There weren’t any monsters or anything. 

“Who are you?” He asked defensively, standing up.

“(Y/n),” I replied with a smile. “Who are you?”

“None of your business.” 

Let's just say our first meeting wasn’t the best. I didn’t understand why he was so on edge, I mean I was only six. We used to see each other every night after that. We bonded, even if he tried to keep his distance. I’d help him with whatever he was dealing with, even if he didn’t explain it in full detail. And in return, he’d help me. Or we’d just hang out and play games. 

But things started turning downhill quickly. I noticed how he seemed to be injured a lot, something a kid shouldn’t go through. I tried to help him, I really did. We were only ten at the time though, and I still wasn’t the most mature.

“Star?” I called out. He refused to tell me his name, I’m not sure why, but I respected his privacy. So I called him star since we always met in the same field of flowers, under a starry sky. “What happened?” 

He had a bandage on his lower right cheek. His face was scratched and I felt worry bubble through my veins. This wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this. 

He didn’t look at me. Instead he turned to face away from where I sat. He kept his gaze on the never ending field. He didn’t reply. I felt myself frown. Normally he’d at least sit by me, or I’d sit by him. It depended on who fell asleep first. Though he’s been sleeping later and later. 

I stood up and stood in front of him. He turned away from me, scowl plastered on his face. I felt…sad. Scared. Nervous. What happened to him? It must’ve been really bad for him to act like this. 

“You can talk to me, you know Star,” I said quietly, hoping to ease his nerves. But it only seemed to trigger him. His face snapped towards me, and his words seeped through me like venom. Hitting my vital points slowly.

“Don’t you know how annoying you are?” He snapped, glaring at me harshly. I felt myself shrink under his gaze. “Can’t you tell I want to be left alone?”

Ouch. Was what I thought. That hurt, bad. He knew…he knew about how I was scared that people were annoyed by me. How I felt I was a nuisance around others. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Immediately turning away to give him space. In fact I walked far enough away that I couldn’t see him. I felt hurt. Alone. My own soulmate didn’t like me. I sat down, the want to cry strong. But I sucked it up. Locked up how I felt deep within me. I didn’t want to be a burden after all. I was already proving to be one. 

The next night, he didn’t show up. One part of me was concerned. But a more selfish part was thankful I didn’t have to see him again. It gave me time to sulk alone. 

Though after that, I saw him after I fell asleep. The last words he spoke to me rang through my head, so I turned to leave him alone once more. And he made no move to stop me. Ouch. I felt that prickly feeling in my eyes when you want to cry, but I closed them and took deep breaths. I refuse to cry. 

It was like that for a week. My family noticed that I wasn’t as chipper, but they didn’t mention it. Which made me feel even more alone. My friends carried on as usual as well. It felt like everyone was moving on without me. 

I laid down in a ball. Watching the flowers sway with the breeze. I heard footsteps behind me. Star’s asleep too. I didn’t make any movement. Just continued to watch the blue flower dance with the wind. What’s the point in doing anything, it’s not like he cares about me in the end. 

“Flower?” I heard him call out softly. So quietly, that the breeze nearly drowned him out. Even though I told him my name, he decided to give me a nickname as well. He explained it was because it wasn’t fair that he was the only one with a cheesy nickname. 

My hand twitched against the grass at that memory. I wanted to smile at the thought, but I didn’t. I didn’t have the energy to. I just continued to watch the flower, trying to distract myself. Try not to pay attention as I heard him sit next to me. It was silent for a while. 

“I’m…sorry,” Star apologized with hesitancy. I furrowed my eyebrows as I started to mess with the grass. “I…I didn’t mean what I said.”

“You don’t have to lie,” I replied flatly. “I know I’m annoying, it’s just a fact. Just leave me alone.”

“But you’re not annoying,” He replied quickly. “I’m sorry I called you that. I was just stressed. I shouldn’t have…taken it out on you.”

My vision blurred as tears tried to pass my eyes, clenching my fist around the grass to ground myself. Taking in a deep breath, I worked on calming myself. Once I knew I wouldn’t break down, I turned to face him, laying on my back. His face was littered with guilt as he stared down at me from his position. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I replied back meekly. 

“I know,” He said, just as meekly. “I’m sorry.” 

We grew closer after that. He missed more nights as well. It was clear he was going through something. He’d show up more battered, and the fact that he kept missing sleep…it caused me to worry more.

When I was fifteen, nearly all my friends had met their soulmate outside of the dreamscape. I was…jealous. I wanted to see Star in person. Awake. 

“Star!” I exclaimed once I saw him. I waved him over to me energetically. I’ve finally drawn up the courage to ask him to meet me in real life. I didn’t see the harm. He smiled slightly at my enthusiasm and sat next to me.

“What’s got you so excited?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I had an idea,” I replied with a smile, looking at him. My eyes drifted to the scar that now laid on his right cheek, reminding me of that awful night we fought. I brought my focus back to his eyes as he responded.

“That’s not good,” He joked and I scoffed playfully.

“Oh hush,” I said, swatting his shoulder. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet up. Like when we’re awake.”

His playful demeanor fell, and my smile fell with it, “No.”

I frowned and stared at him in confusion, “Why not?”

“Because,” Star said, not looking at me anymore. “I haven’t even told you my real name, why would you even want to meet me anyways?”

My gaze dropped to my lap at that. He was right, I still didn’t know his name. It’s been nine years since we first met in this dreamscape, and he still hasn’t told me his real name. It…kinda hurts now that I think about it. We were soulmates after all, platonic or romantic, who cares. Didn’t they at least give each other their names? 

“I don’t care,” I responded simply. It…wasn’t fully the truth, but his name didn’t matter to me in the grand scheme of things. I still wanted to see him face to face. Maybe even have him meet my parents if he was comfortable. “You’re my friend Star, not to mention soulmate. I still want to see you outside of here.”

“Well that’s not gonna happen,” He snapped, glaring down at his hands. I frowned as I stared at him. I tried to read him, see if he was being serious. His tone of voice was spoken with finality, but his eyes told a different story. “I’m…shoot, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just for the best if we don’t see each other.”

My heart sank. It just wasn’t fair. Why did he think that? 

He stood by that. I'm seventeen now. I was helping my parents with their bakery now that I was old enough. The world changed now that Emperor Belos was no more. Everyone was free. No more being forced to join a coven. No more locking magic away. I’m honestly glad, the thought of being branded scared me. Life was peaceful once more. 

Star…has changed. For the better I’d like to think. He was working on opening up more to me, and it warmed my heart. One night, we had a long night of him explaining everything. I was shocked to learn that he was the Golden Guard. That he served under Belos since he could first remember. That explained why he was always hurt, and why he would miss nights on end. He was a child soldier. 

It broke my heart. He kept all of that away from me. Star told me it was because he didn’t want to put me in danger. It took him a bit to admit it. I found the sentiment sweet, but I scolded him, asking him how that would even put me in danger. Which he quickly rebutted that he knew I’d go looking for him…which he was kinda right. 

I smiled fondly at the counter as I recalled that. The want to see him grew everyday, but I didn’t press him. He just got out of the hands of Belos, I think he needs some time to collect himself. I still didn’t know his name, which kind of bummed me out. 

The bell rang out and I looked up, ready to greet the customer. I froze before I could utter anything. My eyes were glued to him. Star. He was here…in my parents' shop. My heart started to beat faster as excitement rushed through me. This couldn’t be happening, no way.

Soon, others came in behind him, all asking why he suddenly ran in here. But I paid them no mind. 

“Star?” I asked out, scared that this ended up being an illusion.

“Hunter,” He replied back, smiling sheepishly showing his tooth gap that I adored. “I should’ve told you that sooner…”

I blinked in shock at the revelation, “Hunter? After all this time I thought it would’ve been something cooler like…I don’t know, Bartholomew or something.”

“Bartholomew?” Hunter asked out in amusement. “Dang, maybe I should change my name.”

“No, no,” I laughed, tears of joy starting to fall. “I think Hunter fits you.” 

I made my way from behind the counter and rushed over to him. I brought him into a hug and he tensed. But he quickly relaxed and held me back. He was so warm, and I felt like a piece of the puzzle clicked. I felt whole, seen, loved, warm, happy. It was hard to explain. So I guess this is what my friends felt like when they met their soulmates.

[soulcheri]

As he talks, Brooke listens, turning her whole body inward to face him. She enjoyed watching his eyes light up as he pondered the differences between having a son or daughter with her. It was nice to know the topic didn't scare him off or weird him out. Most guys would've ran at the first sign of their girlfriend displaying any baby fever. Your twenties were supposed to be carefree, not tethered or tied down by a family. It took Brooke awhile to accept that her twenties would look different than her peers. And so would Tyler's. Once he discovered the truth. The more time that passes, the more anxious Brooke gets. She's been acting so crazy lately. And this one thing would explain why that is. The longer she waited, the more mad she risked him getting that she didn't share this news with him sooner. But, she had to wonder if there was any possible way telling him right now would backfire or blow up in her face. "Tyler....." I'm pregnant.

The words never leave her lips on behalf of the child, they'd been previously watching. She ran smack dab into Tyler's back when trying to catch her latest bubble. "Oh my god. I am so sorry! Please forgive us. Aurora, what did I tell you about blowing bubbles near strangers?" The mother of the child continued to apologize profusely before she swept up little Aurora up in her arms and carried her back to their family's table while she kicked and screamed to keep playing. It was only after they were left alone again that Tyler's prior question finally registered. "I wouldn't care. I think I could love both equally. I would just want him or her to be healthy and happy." It seemed like such a cop out answer but it was true. So long as she didn't give birth to an alien she'd be fine. "Our baby isn't the only person I wish health and happiness on, though." There's a pause as she eyes him expectantly. "I want that for you, too." More than anything, Brooke just wished she could take away his pain and absorb it all herself. She attempts to, as she runs her fingers through his hair and leans up to finally return his kiss with fervor. He needed to know that despite their fights and how insanely neurotic she gets, her feelings haven't changed. She hoped by kissing him with the same, usual intensity, that would hopefully drive the point home.

The public display lasted for a few minutes, with Brooke eventually deepening it with tongue. He tasted less like vodka now and more like warm, decadent hot chocolate. "I'm worried about you," Brooke whispers once their kiss comes to a slow stop and her hand crawls up his chest. She meets his eyes only for hers to be filled with sadness. "What you said in texts last night, about feeling like you're drowning.... and finding you this morning hungover.... I'm concerned. Even the other night when you showed up at my party, your knuckles were bruised really badly. They still are." She pauses just to check, running her fingers over the dark purple blotches. "I can tell you haven't been sleeping. Are you having nightmares again? Would you tell me if something was wrong or I could do anything to help make it better?" He just said she saved him but, right now she doesn't feel like much of a savior at all. When she's the reason he's been feeling so powerless and overwhelmed. "I'm sorry about last night. And for being so neurotic these past couple of weeks. If you knew why, you'd understand. And I hope you wouldn't be upset when I tell you that I'm----"

"There you guys are. Please tell Isa, men do not bob for apples." The innuendo alone makes Volchok feel gay, as he sits down across from their friends. "Oh cool. A churro. I'm starving." Without even asking, Kev picks up the long cinnamon-sugar coated treat and takes a huge chunk out of it. "You guys wanna hit the cornmaze? See which one of us makes it out first?"

With his arm extended over Brooke's shoulders, Tyler caresses her arm in soft and affectionate strokes. He's not mindful of it, she just brings out this tenderness in him that he can't explain. It's a true testament to the nature versus nurture theory. If a person's characteristics are formed by their upbringing then Tyler should have been less capable of developing a love language based on physical intimacy. In spite of this, Tyler feels most loved whenever they are cuddling, hugging, or taking romantic baths together.

He was taking a careful sip of his hot chocolate when Brooke pointed out the little girl blowing bubbles into the air. Children were always his weak spot. They were so happy, innocent, and their bright, wondrous eyes were filled with magic. Unfortunately, Tyler wasn't afforded that same luxury growing up. He didn't get to build tree houses, make sand castles on the beach, or blow bubbles at a festival. Instead, he was made to scrub floors at the orphanage, wash dishes, and go to bed at night without parents. Christmases, Easters, Thanksgivings -- they were hardly ever celebrated. He never stayed with a family long enough to be included in their traditions. So when he turned twelve, he let his hope die. Then at sixteen, he promised himself he would have his own family someday. That was around the time he met Jake, Brooke, and Nina. The town events, family gatherings, and vacations -- they gave him hope. That's why Rebecca McKenzie sent him to France. She wanted to show him that anything could be possible with the right people. And she was right, because that was the night he took Brooke's virginity and fell in love with her.

"Yeah, she's adorable." Tyler smiles as a bubble pops on his head. Brooke's question takes him by surprise at first but, in a good way. He never gave much thought to what gender he would prefer if he was ever lucky enough to become a dad. "Having a little girl would be nice. If she has your pretty eyes I would be wrapped around her finger. So that would be bad. How would I be expected to tell her no? I can't even tell you no." Brooke could ask him for literally anything and he would give it to her. They weren't even supposed to be together because of the Vipers threat against her, but he couldn't stay away. Then he made things public this morning when he uploaded a picture of them to his Instagram. That was his way of telling Brooke, he belongs to her. This way she won't ever have to question that again. "I wouldn't want my son to have any tattoos, though. I got mine because I wanted to look different. I didn't want to be a pretty boy. I needed to be tough, guarded. I wanted people to be afraid of me. If I have a son, he'll be loved. He won't want to spread fear to other people. He'll have too much love in his heart for that." Tyler smiles and looks up at her. They were close enough for their faces to touch. "But if we have a boy and a girl. Then he has to be tough. Because he'll have to protect her. Or maybe she'll be the one protecting him. If you taught me anything, its that girls can save boys too. You saved me. You save me every day you're here." To bring things back around, he takes her hand into his. "What about you? Would you want a little girl who you can teach ballet to and go shopping with? Or a little boy who will protect you from monsters and dragons?"

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Hi, this is my first time requesting. I hope this is not utter bullshit. Could you maybe write Eddie x male reader, where he comforts the reader about struggling to eat?

Hi! No this isn't bullshit. Not in the slightest! Thank you for trusting me enough with this request! I hope I've done it justice for you.

Eddie Munson x male reader.

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson.

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

____________________

There are days where everything makes your throat tighten. Foods that you normally loved made your stomach queasy. There is no warning when these days hit. You can literally eat the sandwich, the pasta, whatever it is, without problem the day before. And then the next day as your work to prepare or reheat it, your feel the bile rising in the back of your throat.

Today is one of those days. It's day three after grocery shopping and everything you've bought feels unappealing. You don't even know what you want instead. You just know you don't want what you have. And it's just easier to avoid the problem and survive on handfuls of cereal and water and crackers.

Eddie notices it though. How you've pushed the food around on your plate today just like you did yesterday. He's only got half the bag of pretzels left but he wants you to actually eat something. There's still a few more classes left in the day. The last thing he wants to hear is that you passed out in the middle of Drama because you just hadn't eaten.

So he pushes the bag a little closer to you. You notice it inching in but try not to think anything of it. Eddie talks with his whole body sometimes. This is no doubt just a byproduct of his wild gestures. He laughs with the rest of the group and the conversation floats like it always does in the loud cafeteria.

The bag inches closer again. This time Eddie's hand is resting on outside of the package as he moves it your way. You bring your gaze from the cross ring up to his face. He's looking at you with a small cocky grin. "C'mon, don't you want to grow up big and strong like me?"

You snort. "Munson, a strong wind could blow you over."

"I am only human after all," he returns. "Mother Nature is a force to be reckoned with." He punctuates by moving the bag directly in front of you. "I'm not sick, promise."

You stare down at the bag. Your stomach doesn't seem to reject the thought of the pretzels. But you're worried that after the first bite it's going to be a done deal. But Eddie's big eyes are staring at you, poring over you like he's genuinely worried.

You take the end of the bag with your fingers and Eddie grins before letting his grip go. You take one pretzel and snap into it carefully. The first bite isn't terrible to get down. You take it slow though. You give yourself a minute to let the first pretzel to settle.

When your body doesn't lurch, you grab a second one. Eddie's smile is brighter as he chats. By the time lunch is over you've only four of the remaining 8 or so of the snack, but it feels like a breakthrough from the stint you'd been in. As you toss the contents on the the tray of cafeteria food untouched into the trash, Eddie gingerly reaches for your elbow. You know it's Eddie because he's only as gentle as Eddie can be. It's a firm enough grip but Eddie's pressing closer and closer into your personal bubble.

"Wanna skip next period? Nurse has all the best snacks," he reasons. "Or if you want something different, I'm more than okay with skipping Mr. Randall's class to take you off campus for something."

You start to shake your head, start to tell Eddie he doesn't have to do all that but Eddie voice cuts you off. "C'mon, it's your choice. I just--I know it's not easy to like actually eat when the food is so shit. Whatever you want, man."

"That's the problem, man. I don't know what I want. Nothing sounds appealing."

"We could at least get orange juice. That's good, yeah? Nurse Jenkins is a sucker for a bad boy and I can score you at least two bottles."

The sugar wouldn't hurt. But you're not sure if you can go for two bottles. And you don't really want Eddie skipping his classes. "You're the last person to need to skip. Like ever."

Eddie gives an indignant squawk in return. His offense is clearly jest, but he still pouts just a little at your words. "Rude."

"But I'll let you walk me to the nurses office if you promise to go straight to class."

Eddie purses his lips together. His grip still hasn't fully left your elbow. "I need to see you take at least two sips before I go."

Of course he would. He's that type. "Deal, Munson. Since it's going to kill you if I don't eat."

Eddie nods at the remark. "It's breaking my heart."

The sentence sits ful at the utterance. There's no dripping teasing tone. There's no faux concern or sarcasm. It's a full sentence and you wonder if Eddie's noticed these days. Why would he be worried at all about someone like you?

As the two of your breech the doors of the cafeteria, Eddie's hold grips and the two of you walk with a couple inches between the two of you. It's mostly silent between you, though the hallways are still full with students heading to their next classes.

"Does this happen a lot?" Eddie questions a few feet from the nurses often.

You shrug. "It happens enough."

"What-what do you usually manage to eat?"

"Water. Cheerios--boring as it fucking sounds they're not too sweet. Crackers are good."

Eddie nods, fingers tapping against each other and the rings softly echo with their clinks. "How long does it last?"

"No longer than a couple days. This stints kicking me in the balls though. I don't know if I like ate something bad and it's lingering or if it's stress? Just...everything sounds gross most of the time."

"I mean, the school lunches would never actually help anyone if they were having issues eating, ya know? They look like slop sometimes."

The two of you linger outside the door, never reaching it fully to make you warrant the knock, but clearly you two have passed here because the intent is for you to be there.

You give a soft tuft of laughter in an exhale through your nose. "Yeah, they're not always appealing."

Eddie pushes forward, hand raising to the wooden door. It's a two knock warning and then he cracks it open, gesturing for you to enter in the increasing gap. It's quick really as you explain that you'd appreciate some orange juice if she can spare it because you've had trouble getting much down and are hoping the juice will get you through the day. She offers you a pass to head back home if you need, but you decline it saying that you'll come back if you really need it.

Eddie lingers as promised only long enough to see you get two sips down before he takes the pass to make it to his class. The juice is just enough and by the time you get home you feel like you have an appetite again.

But you notice later in the week and early next week when Eddie cracks open his lunch pail there's a roll of crackers in them. And the next week it's rotated out for a second bag of pretzels .

"Don't you, like, hate those," you say pointing into the pail and seeing what is definitely Cheerios. About a month after Eddie walked you to the nurse's office, you notice he's got a whole rotation of foods he doesn't even touch each week. You're not even sure why he's keeping food he's not going to eat. It's a waste in the end if he's just tossing them out at the end of of each week.

Eddie shrugs. "Keep spare, sue me," he huffs. The conversation ends there. Until the next day, he notices about halfway through that you're pushing the peas around and then slides the sandwich bag to you.

"Should I still sue?" you mutter digging in for a handful of the cereal.

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

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[sunshinemunchkin]

I Found

pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

summary: when loki returns from ragnarok, he doesn't feel welcome and doesn't trust anyone. he's scared to, until he meets you.

warnings: self-confidence issues from loki, kissing, fluff

word count: 1.2k

a/n: my first loki fic!! sorry this celebration is taking like ten years...

it had been about six years since the attack on new york. since you met loki. though you hadn't seen much of him to start with, you knew he wasn't evil. he wasn't bad or had ill intentions. he was slightly greedy when you first spoke with him on the quinjet all those years ago, but he had changed.

he and thor had just come back from wherever in god's name they had been, some place called ragnarok. returned from building a new home for their people and eventually making their way back to new york to make amends with everyone there.

when loki first entered the avengers compound, he felt small despite being a frost giant. thor was welcomed with open arms as everyone shunned him. it was to be expected, and he couldn't say he didn't deserve it. loki was used to thor being favored.

but then he saw you. a bright, bubbling energy who immediately took a liking to him. he couldn't imagine why when he walked into the place with a harsh scowl. "hi! loki, i'm y/n. we met briefly a couple years ago, but i doubt you remember me." vaugly, though he wishes he could recall more.

loki remembered a sweet smiling face coming to visit him one evening when he was deep in his thoughts. the energy from you and from before felt the same, so he assumed. he took your outstretched hand and shook it lightly, your grip tight and confident around his fingers. you led him away from the group of judging avengers and into the kitchen where there sat a pleathora of food.

"i made a feast, but i'll let you have first dibs." he hadn't noticed how hungry he really was, his stomach answering for him before he could get a word out. you didn't say anything, a light and beautiful laugh escaping your lips as you sat loki down in a chair and placed a plate in front of him.

loki looked up at you with big eyes before you gestured for him to dig in. he did, and he was thankful for the peace you brought with your presence and attention to his favored foods, though he was sure you didn't know and were just making things that you liked to cook. that thought alone made the god's heart swell as he chomped on his food like a starved man.

--

over the course of a couple of months in the time that loki had been staying at the compound, he found himself noticing you more than he probably should've. taking special note of the way you pinched your bottom lip when you were reading. how you twirled a piece of your hair when you were bored at the mandatory meetings steve had hosted.

you two had opened up to each other, you more than loki, but that didn't bother you one bit. you figured he would do the same, in time. loki appreciated how you acted around him. normal, not like he was going to blow up the city again. you looked at him with purpose and intent on listening to whatever he had to say, smiling when he did say eventually say something. you treated him like a person. not a prisoner or a younger brother. like he mattered, which was a first for loki.

one evening when you two were sharing the space of your room. you lying on your bed and loki sat on your floor, your hand combing through his long raven locks as he read to you softly. that was another thing loki wasn't used to. the intimacy in the bond he had with you. the soft touches, the lingering stares, and the blushing smiles. he knew it was something more, and he hoped you had too because he wasn't sure he felt this way about another person in a long time. it scared him.

getting lost in his thoughts and the feeling of your hand against his head, you tapped his scalp, making him tilt his head back to look at you, piercing your soul with his blue eyes. your breath hitched, but still you smiled at the man. "why'd you stop?" you ask him about the reading that had faded out.

loki looked down and shut the book after marking the page, setting it aside and turning to face you fully. you patted the spot on the bed in front of you, instructing him to sit which he gladly took the open invitation. his legs crossed underneath his tall frame as he took a deep breath. your hand found his, sensing the hesitation in his words. he was both thankful and uncertain about your hand on his, but you had always managed to calm him down, in some way.

your gentle eyes looked into his and it eased his worries as he began his speech. "can i tell you something?" you, of course, nodded without question. the man was safe with you and could talk to you about anything he wanted, good and bad, which you reminded him of daily.

with another sigh, loki got to his point, focusing on the comfort your warm hand brought to his cool skin. "relationships are built on trust, right?" pondering his question for a moment, you nod, a smile crossing your features as he exhaled and continued.

"well, i trust you more than anyone here." loki's words opened a door in your heart you were trying to keep shut for so long. your body finding the strength to rise from it's place on the bed without instruction. you led your hands up slowly to loki's face, his strong jaw and peaked cheekbones stood firm under your thumbs as the god sunk underneath your touch.

your fingers traced over his face with the upmost of care, taking in each and every detail as if you were memorizing it. your bodies had leaned into one another like a magnet drawn to it's partner, unable to be restrained from the other. so when your lips brushed over loki's as you spoke, he knew he was safe. he could trust you, and most of all, he loved you. "thank you for trusting me." you said softly, so only you and he could process the words being said. with only a short nod, he responded, his tongue darting out to coat his lips in a light sheen of spit.

loki's eyes traveled down to your own mouth, a slight smirk tugging at his as you were now practically in his lap. his hands stayed hovering over your sides, afraid to commit. "may i?" was all he needed to ask to get you nodding and placing your forehead against his, your lips finally touching and igniting more fireworks than loki could even imagine or conjure up. more butterflies than he produced for you one day just to see you dancing in the middle of it all. and when you two finally pulled away for air, simply due to the laws of physics, he could've sworn he was still dreaming.

but he wasn't, because here you were. in front of him, his hands on your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck. a smile playing on your lips as you leaned in for another peck to his already reddened lips. it was better than heaven, because it was just you two. and that's all loki could ask for plus more ever since he set foot on midgard. maybe it wasn't all that bad, after all, he had you.

[erabundus]

he's  falling,  falling,  falling  —  a  sensation  ren  finds  himself  more  acquainted  with  than  any  ordinary  person  likely  should  be.  (  though  in  all  fairness,  he  is  the  furthest  thing  from  ordinary.  )  it's  a  risky  maneuver,  for  the  blow  it  stands  to  deal  to  his  pride  rather  than  what  physical  pain  hitting  the  GROUND  might  bring  him.  even  so,  the  wanderer  doesn't  worry.  he  lifts  not  a  finger  to  save  himself,  willing  to  take  the  gamble  of  this  impromptu  trust  fall.  kazuha  will be the one to  save him  —  and  there's  something  a  bit  strange  how  easily  he  finds  himself  BELIEVING  that.  when  was  the  last  time  anyone  successfully managed  to  catch  him?  decades?  centuries?  (  have  they  ever?  )  long  enough  that  the  idea  of  being  SAVED  has  become  more  wishful  thinking  than  guarantee.

yet  he  trusts  kazuha.  he  loves  kazuha.  and  as  the  mortal's  arms  curl  around  him,  the  first  to  ever  stop  his  fall,  the  wanderer  quietly thinks perhaps this is where he was always meant to be.

and then, they  roll;  a  messy  tangle  of  limbs  and  sand  and  anemo.  it's  utterly  chaotic,  but  ren  finds  he  doesn't  particularly  care.  he  is  putty  in  the  ronin's  hands,  fingers  twisting  lazily  in  the  fabric  of  his  clothes.  (  ah,  so  many  layers.  isn't  he  warm?  )  when  they  finally  come  to  a  stop,  the  wanderer  blinks  dazedly  —  looking  up  at  his  human,  his  partner,  his  heart  as  he's  silhouetted  against  the  warm  watercolor  hues  of  the  setting  sun.  for  a  moment,  ren  can  only  MARVEL  at  the  sight.  dark  hair  spreads  around  his  head  like  a  halo  made  of  ink.  sand  sticks to  bare  skin,  cheeks  darken  and  his  chest  heaves  as  if  from  imagined  exertion.  he  opens  his  mouth  to  speak,  but  instead  of  words,  ren  finds  LAUGHTER  escaping  in  their  place.  no  —  a  giggle.  a  delighted,  bubbly  sound.  something  high  and  innocent  and  pure,  the  echo  of  what  divine  innocence  lies  interwoven  in  his  very  design.  he  isn't  sure  what's  so  funny  —  only  that  he  can't  stop,  even  as  tears  bud  at  the  corners  of  his  eyes  and  his  nonexistent  stomach  begins  to  ache.  he  manages  to  swallow  it  when  kazuha  leans  in  for  a  kiss,  though  the  brief  nature  of  it  means  the  giggling  soon  returns  the  moment  they  part.

❝  you're ... hah, impressively deadly,  yourself.  ❞  the  wanderer  manages  to  say,  pulling  himself  into  a  sitting  position  when  his human moves back.  he  takes  a  few  seconds  to  breathe  —  inhale,  exhale,  laughter  still  sending  faint  tremors  through  his  slender  form.  the  deep  breaths are  meant  more  to  help  ground  him  than  anything  else,  and  thankfully,  they  allow  him  to  gradually  regain  his  composure.  ❝  my  only  REGRET  is  that  i  didn't have  the  time  to properly appreciate  you  in  action ...  those  vermin were  truly  incompetent in every possible way;  they  couldn't  even  die  quickly.  ❞  without  looking,  he  extends  an  arm.  his  kasa,  still  propped  against  a  nearby  rock,  dissolves  —  and  flies  back  to  the  wanderer's  hand.  placing  it  back  atop  his  head,  ren  rises  and  dusts  himself  off.

❝  allow  me.  ❞   he  isn't  tired  in  the  slightest,  even  after  the  fight;  his  STAMINA  reserves  stretch  far  beyond  anything  a  human  could  ever  hope  to  compare  to.  ❝  i'll  find  a  place  we  can  set  up  camp.  just  wait  here.  ❞

said  place  turns  out  to  be  a  small  oasis  —  as  requested.  a  pool  of  cool,  clear  water  lined  by  patches  of  opportunistic  flora  and  smooth  stones.  he  takes  the  liberty  of  clearing  out  any  unwanted  pests  before  going  back  to  retrieve  kazuha.  (  the  ronin  has  already  done  enough  fighting  for  one  evening.  )  gesturing  a  touch  THEATRICALLY  at  the  water  when  they  arrive,  he  leaves  his  human  to  go  take  care  of  himself  while  he  focuses  on assembling  their  campsite.  ❝  hungry?  ❞   a  hand  presses  to  his  chest  and  he  withdraws  a  blanket  —  large  enough  to  comfortably  fit  them  both.  he  spreads  it  carefully  over  the  sand,  smoothing  out  any  pesky  wrinkles  as  he  goes.  ❝  i  brought�� rations  for  you ...  but  they  aren't  going  anywhere if you don't want them now.  ❞

wind and sand swirling around him as the effect of ren's devastating attack. it was so powerful that kazuha wondered for a mere second how powerful ren would be if he would go full out.  that would be a question for another day. 

kazuha keeps his eyes focused on their enemies..or what's left of them but seemingly they all become dust.. and the battlefield was the same as before.. just sand.. and rocks.

as everything became calm... his keen senses picking up the sound of something falling... or rather somebody.  he turned his head and saw his boyfriend falling.. like a golden star that he wished for after years of saving.. he finally came home.  his body worked on its own and it pushed itself from the ground with the powers of the wind, his arms stretched to catch ren in his arms. and just as they land in the sand they roll down a hill like a comical tumbleweed.

at the foot of the hill, kazuha ends up above ren with him caged between his arms and legs... kasa rolled a little bit further away from them.. stopped at a lonely rock.  kazuha finally got a good look at his boyfriend... eyes wild and blown and full of mystery. he could drown in those beautiful indigo eyes. kazuha dipped his head down and pressed his lips against ren's, just a small soft kiss between lovers. 

      ❛   you are so deadly beautiful when you are fighting like that.. i'm so lucky to have you as my boyfriend..    ❜  he whispered just as he removed himself from ren.  skin flushed and droplets of sweat ran down his heated-up skin. kazuha pressed a hand against the little cut.. it stung a little bit because of the sand but nothing that some water wouldn't fix.. it would heal without scaring.. it wasn't too deep for that.

      ❛   we should properly set up camp somewhere.. i was hoping to find an oasis, so i can fresh myself up   ❜ 

[whumpmatsus]

So. Todomatsu always ACTS like he hates that Karamatsu is so eccentric, but we all know he actually doesn't mind that much. If anyone else made fun of him for that stuff, I can't help but think he wouldn't let it fly. So what about a situation where Karamatsu gets made fun of/bullied/put down by someone OUTSIDE the family for being the way he be and Todomatsu gets an opportunity to go into full protective mode over him??

OH SHIT the youngest of them goes feral

dare I say... RELEASE THE BABY!!!!!

God I love Zaimoku, it’s so good <3

-

If Totty is being completely, utterly, unfailingly honest with himself, his brothers need his help if one of them is going to be going on a date.

Really, he’s the only one who has any clue about how to act on a date! He could hit his big brothers over the head with a Clue-by-four with that shit and they still wouldn’t really get it.

Even so… part of him thinks he shouldn’t really be following Karamatsu to a date. Karamatsu is the one Totty knows is never going to come running to him for advice or assistance, especially with girls; he’s got the undeserved ego of an avocado toast sandwich. Totty isn’t sure he’d be pleased to know his baby brother tagged along not because he has to sort out a schedule thing at work, but because he wants to keep an eye on Karamatsu.

What else is he supposed to do, though? Just let Karamatsu go alone and totally blow it? His usual behavior aside, Totty really wants his big brothers to be happy and have fulfilling relationships. He thinks if he can be there to keep an eye on things, well, maybe it won’t go so bad. Maybe Karamatsu will have a shot with this woman. Maybe he’ll get a girlfriend!

The very idea was enough to make him feel a little better about lying so that his brother will take him along. It eases his conscience, imagining that if he manages to help Karamatsu out to the point that the second eldest ends up in a loving, joyful relationship, (obviously as opposed to the past few horrible ones he’s had), then a little fib isn’t so bad, is it?

After all, if he were the one in need of something like this, he’d be grateful for his brothers’ help however they did it.

Of course, when he sees the look this girl gives Karamatsu, a look like the kind a baby gives after licking a lemon for the first time, Totty can’t help but wince. This isn’t off to a great start. He lingers by the counter, greeting Sacchi and Aida, trying not to look as if he’s watching his big brother’s date.

“Aren’t you off today, Totty?” Sacchi hums as she turns to start making a drink.

He nods. “Yeah, well, I can’t stay away, I guess, haha.”

Aida jerks her head toward the table where Karamatsu and his date are. “That’s one of your brothers, right? Still as painful as ever,” she teases. “Is he… oh, my God, he’s on a date??”

“Shhhh, shh!” Totty waves his hands a little, hoping to get his friends to quiet down a little. The last thing Karamatsu needs is to be drawing attention. “He thinks I tagged along to talk to you guys about my schedule. But, yes, he’s here on a date.”

Sacchi finishes serving her customer, one of the few in the shop at the moment, and then leans against the counter to look over. “Aw, good for him. He’s not either of our types, but he deserves a shot with someone who’s interested.”

He lets out a soft sigh. “Agreed there. I kind of just wanna keep an eye on him, you know? To make sure he doesn’t mess it up too much. He should have let me pick his outfit, ugh… that aside, he’s doing okay so far, though, I think.”

Aida frowns as she slides a cup of coffee toward her coworker. “Um, I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s got his work cut out for him. I’ve been to some mixers with that girl, and she always finds something wrong with every guy she hangs out with.”

“She’s right,” Sacchi adds. “Good thing you came along so you can carry him home, ‘cause that girl’s gonna tear him to pieces. I mean, she went out with Atsushi and the next day he was in here crying and telling me she made him feel two inches tall. Nobody’s good enough for her.”

Aida clicks her tongue. “Your big brother’s in big trouble, Totty.”

It’s Totty’s turn to frown as he looks toward Karamatsu. Unfortunately, Sutabaa is so small and he’s close enough that he doesn’t have to strain too much to hear what’s being said.

The woman is laughing. However… Karamatsu hasn’t even really opened his mouth yet. “Oh, my God! You’re my date, huh? Last time I let my sister set me up. That bitch, haha. Ah, well… wow, your jacket is hurting my eyes. Could you take it off?”

Karamatsu seems to be trying his best to smile. “O-oh, yes, of course.” He moves to tug it off, folding it over the back of his chair. “Please forgive me. Anyway, my name is Karamatsu. And you, my angel?”

“Ahaha, WHAT?” The woman raises an eyebrow at him. “C’mon, dude. Don’t call me that. I’m nobody’s angel.”

Totty feels himself starting to steam. You’ve got that right.

“A-ah… right, my apologies.” Karamatsu just keeps smiling. The expression on his face reads almost like he’s in pain. “Well, should we order?”

She gives a cursory glance toward the menu, then suddenly her eyes are drawn to Karamatsu again. “Oh, my God, hold on… is… is that your face on your shirt?! Holy shit! Are you really that full of yourself?”

Totty’s heart sinks as his brother’s cheeks flush bright red. This is not going well. And while, yes, Karamatsu probably should have picked a different shirt, what’s really wrong with what he’s wearing? Even though he’s a little over-the-top and dramatic, this woman can’t know whether or not he’s ‘full of himself’ when she’s barely letting him get a word in.

Totty is the most socially intelligent of his brothers, and even he doesn’t think Karamatsu’s actually doing anything wrong. He hasn’t drawn anyone else’s attention like he usually does, he hasn’t gone overboard with any poses, and he’s… kind of just being himself, slightly toned down. It’s not like he’s bragging or being a jerk. Hell, it’s just a strange fashion choice; how the hell does she think it has any bearing on what he’s like as a person?

“Damn,” Sacchi cringes. “She’s not wasting any time, is she?”

Aida gives a pout toward her friends. “He didn’t even do anything wrong yet. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

“Yeah, he’s just a little odd and, like, a tiny bit painful. But he’s acting really nice and polite.” Sacchi sighs as she props her head up on her hand. “There’s no pleasing some people. Aida, why don’t you go take their order? Maybe you can accidentally spill it on that pretentious top of hers when you bring it to them.”

“Pfff, if only. I’m on it, though.”

Totty continues to fume as he watches his poor brother try to impress this girl, pretty much in vain. He gets the feeling that nothing Karamatsu says or does is going to be good enough. For some reason, that really pisses him off. Despite the fact that Karamatsu can be a bit much, that he’s overcompensating for being insecure on the inside, that everyone rolls their eyes at him… Karamatsu isn’t a bad guy. He tries hard to make other people happy and treats them with respect. Even his brothers who don’t always return the favor.

By the point Sacchi and Aida are finished making their order, the youngest is ready to explode at this woman. She never even told Karamatsu her name, but she’s spent the whole time talking him down. When she asked what he did ‘besides be super excruciating’, and he told her he didn’t really have a job, she laughed at him. He tried to save it by saying he occasionally played guitar at coffee shops, and she responded something along the lines of, “What kind of hipster loser does that these days??”

Listening to it just makes him so angry. She doesn’t think Karamatsu is attractive, she’s called him embarrassing more than once, and no matter what he does or says, she’s not happy with it. Why the fuck did she even bother going out with him, then?

Totty was worried that Karamatsu was going to screw this up; so far he’s actually managed to be a decent date. He wasn’t prepared for his brother’s date to be the shitty one.

Sacchi brings him a simple iced coffee while Aida returns with the serving tray, a fake smile on her face from laughing uncomfortably at one of the woman’s comments. “God, she’s exhausting.”

“I don’t even know her and I can’t stand her,” Totty mutterrs before taking a sip of his drink. “Why the hell is she treating him like that? He’s just… being himself!”

Being himself. Karamatsu’s really not doing anything wrong. He’s trying to talk himself up when this woman gives him a chance to, but who doesn’t talk themself up on a first date? He just wants to impress her.

It makes Totty feel a little guilty to realize that, honestly, all Karamatsu really wants is to impress everyone because he wants people to like him… including his brothers. If Karamatsu feels the need to seek love and acceptance from strangers like this girl, to the point that he’s willing to put up with the horrible way she’s treating him, what does that say about his brothers? It’s not the first time he’s sucked it up and dealt with something he shouldn’t have from someone just because he wants that person to love him.

His attention is drawn by the woman giggling a little too loudly. “Fuck, you wanna go out with me again? I mean, how do you think this is going? I’m two seconds away from sneaking out the bathroom window. You’re so obnoxious, you dress like an edgy middle schooler, and who wears sunglasses inside, especially when it’s raining outside? You’re, like, cringe incarnate.”

Completely contradicting every statement she made, she slid her hand across the table to take his, if only for a brief moment. The wicked look in her eyes, more sadistic than even Ichimatsu, made Totty’s stomach twist in anger. “I might keep you around, though. You seem like a guy who’d keep me laughing for a while. Maybe next time I’ll take you out with my friends so everyone can laugh at you.”

Oh, that’s it.

He doesn’t know if Karamatsu is oblivious to what she means because he’s blinded and deafened by the promise of another date, or if he knows exactly what she means but perhaps thinks it’s worth it. His eyes light up… and behind that hopeful spark is the pain she’s already put him through.

Baby of the bunch though he is, Totty isn’t going to sit around and twiddle his thumbs while some bitch takes advantage of his big brother.

“Oh, that is sooooo not happening!” he calls as he approaches the table. Although he feels a little bad about just stepping in like this, he’s not gonna let her get away with treating Karamatsu like that. Laughing at him herself was bad enough; parading him in front of her friends for all of them to laugh at him when there’s nothing wrong with Karamatsu isn’t gonna happen if Totty has something to say about it.

The woman gives him an unimpressed look. “Who the fuck are you?”

“T-Totty!!” Karamatsu,  on the other hand, looks immediately panicked. “I can handle this… please, go back and fix your schedule, and I’ll meet you at home.”

“Wait, you work here?” She tilts her head at him. “Oh, shit, hold up. You’re the asshole who messed up my drink last time I was here.” Her gaze flits between the two of them, and she laughs again.

“― Oh, my God! You had to bring your twin brother along to come on a date? You’re pathetic!” Her hand pulls away from Karamatsu’s. “Oh, you’re definitely coming out with me and my friends.”

Totty hisses and pushes her hand away from Karamatsu’s. He steps in front of his big brother to physically block this woman from him. “Keep your hands off him! You’re not taking him anywhere. He’s never seeing you again, because you treated him like… like, fuck, I wouldn’t treat a rock the way you treated him!”

He hears Karamatsu make a noise of almost-protest behind him; he can just imagine the other man sinking down in his seat and trying to hide his face. “Totty, please…”

“No! No, she doesn’t get to just treat you like dirt, Karamatsu-nii-san! You think my brother’s just some kind of dumbass you can show off to your friends and laugh at and treat him like crap?!” he snarls. “Well, guess what? He may be sort of a dumbass sometimes, and maybe he’s a little painful, and maybe he’s not the perfect guy you’re looking for! But he’s a whole hell of a better person than you are!”

Although Totty could kick himself for not saying anything to Karamatsu before, it might be best it’s coming out now. He doesn’t have a lot of time to really think about it or pretend or rehearse. What he’s saying isn’t practiced, it’s real. “Karamatsu is the kindest person I know, and you wish you had at least half the passion he does for the things he likes! Who cares that he wears a shirt with his own face on it? He was bending over backwards to make you happy, even though everything out of your mouth was word barf about how embarrassing he is! And, by the way, you’re wrong!”

It only takes half a step for him to reach over to grab his coffee from the counter, assisted by Aida who’s smirking as she holds it out for him. “If my choice was between you or him, I’d be way less embarrassed to be seen in public with him than with you! He’s not perfect, but he cares about people, and he’s always there when you need him, and ― and all this stuff you think is embarrassing, who the hell gives a shit?! It’s what he wants to do and it’s not hurting anyone! I’d break my phone before I let my big brother go out with someone like you again! Maybe he keeps striking out with dates, but he’s never going to be that desperate!”

He feels a little bad about what he’s about to do. That feeling is mitigated by the fact that at least his coffee isn’t hot.

“And, you know, I actually am sorry about messing up your drink last time. So here, you can have mine!” Almost before he’s finished speaking, he’s dumped his entire cup over her head.

He doesn’t stick around to deal with the aftermath aside from seeing the look of abject horror on the woman’s face as the coffee makes her bad mascara drip. And even though there’s a little bit of guilt over the fact that he’s leaving his coworkers to deal with her, the fact that Sacchi and Aida are cackling while they gather up napkins eases his mind.

He grabs Karamatsu by the hand and leads him out, tossing his coffee cup on the way. There’s not much choice on Karamatsu’s part, except he doesn’t particularly look as if he minds that.

“You didn’t… have to do that, Totty,” Karamatsu mumbles. When Totty glances over, the second eldest looks more tired than anything. He knows that look; the exhaustion of something not working out, of thinking you had a chance only for it to all go up in smoke.

Totty huffs, marching the two of them in the direction that leads back home. “Of course I did! You weren’t going to do it, so someone had to. God… you’ve gotta stop letting people walk all over you, Karamatsu-nii-chan.”

The shift to the more affectionate honorific suggests to Karamatsu that this is really, truly something Totty cares about. He squeezes his baby brother’s hand with a thoughtful hum. “… If that’s the case, perhaps a romance for me just isn’t in the cards. I… really thought it was going to go somewhere this time.”

At last Totty slows slightly, from an aggressive pace to something a little calmer. He’s still pissed off that someone treated Karamatsu like that, and although he’s a bit upset that Karamatsu sit there and let it happen, he knows what it’s like to want people to like you so much that you’ll put up with nearly anything.

However, that’s also the reason he doesn’t want Karamatsu just putting up with it. He deserves so much better than to have people treat him like dirt. It’s not right to do that to anybody, but… especially not to Totty’s big brother.

“I’m sorry I kind of… tapped into Murder Totty in there,” he sighs. “Did I go overboard?”

Karamatsu shrugs. “Maybe a little. But I wasn’t truly enjoying myself and I didn’t want to go on another date with her. I just… didn’t know how to tell her no. I suppose I really am lucky you were there, too.”

Silence falls between them while they walk, then after a moment, Karamatsu clears his throat. “Totty… did you… mean all those things?”

“Huh? All what things?”

“Those things, you know… you said I was… kind and passionate and reliable.” He lets out a soft laugh. “You… you said you’d rather break your phone than let me go out with her again.”

… Oh. He. Did say that, didn’t he?

He pouts a bit, then squeezes Karamatsu’s hand. “Yeah, I meant it. Of course I meant it.”

Beat.

“But as much as I love you, I’m just glad I don’t have to do that.”

[monsoonblooms12]

Eumoiriety (Ethan x f!MC)

Summary: Four Years of Pooja Sharma's Birthday, from her first year as an Intern to her first year as an Attending.

Eumoiriety: Happiness due to state of innocence and purity💕

A/N: It's my baby's birthday and I went overboard. This is purely self indulgent and since I have zero to negative self control, this turned out way longer than I expected it to. Anyway, I hope you still like it💙

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 3.7K (I am sorry!)

Rating: General

Category: A bit angst, A bit fluff

Warnings: None that I saw.

Prompts: @choicesaugustchallenge Day 29 - Birthday

READ ON AO3

Intern Year:

She walks barefoot on the green floor as the dews clinging to grass tips, soothe her like the cold breeze on a summer day.

A few golden rays filter through the canopy that acts as a barrier to the shining sun overhead. When they fall on the grass, the view looks like gold intermixed with emerald.

She wears a white gown, which flutters behind her, as her heart dances with the bees going flower to flower to get their prize of nectar in return for their favour of pollinating them.

There is a calm spreading through her soul, an ease, a slow infusion of tranquillity with her heart beats.

A swish makes her turn. Her eyes capture a silhouette, drifting farther and farther, as if taking her calm along with it.

It's replaced by restlessness.

There is a cajole, a whispered cajole, that urges her feet to run, her mind to think, her heart to wonder.

She follows. One step, and another.

The scene changes.

There are no more trees, no more green with the sun's shine.

At a distance, the waves crash on the sandy shore, their meet with their shore echoing in the silent surroundings.

She looks around and sees it.

The silhouette, now apparent that it was a man, standing with his back to her. He looks unbothered. As if he stole her peace and gave her his unrest in return.

She tries to walk slowly towards, footsteps imprinting on the sand, but the distance never seems to lessen or end.

She tries running, but to no avail.

The waves continue crashing, the footprints continue to get imprinted and the man continues to remain still and silent.

The only change has been in the sky, which is now leaden, dark with humongous clouds.

The thunder begins to cackle.

Once, Twice, Thrice.

She closes her ears with her hands, eyes shut to reduce the impact of the thunderous noise reverberating through every single one of her bones. But the roar keeps getting louder and louder until...

Her eyes snap open, but the echo from her sweven doesn't leave her. She turns around to find her phone ringing, straining her eyes with incredulous bright light (that she forgot to dim). The caller ID is barely registered, but the voice gives away the identity.

It's her sister.

With a flash, all the haze from the peculiar dream gets lost and bubbly happiness takes up the emptied space.

It's their birthday.

The first one since she came here. She had been so busy unknotting the twisted knots of circumstances in which she found herself tangled, that she had forgotten about the once unforgettable occasion of her life.

Maybe she has really lost that childhood she held on so tightly to, she thinks.

But not without a hope. Of a chance to get it back.

Maybe differently.

But the want to relive those carefree days, where the colour of pens you get as gifts, and the decision of who gets the piece of cake with the chocolate masterpiece on it were the only things that held importance. All other worldly, societal woes were secondary, trivial, uncared for.

She wishes her sister and she wishes her back.

3..2..1.. Happy Birthday! To Us!

They scream-whisper together, carrying on the years' long tradition.

The only thing different? They were on their cellulars, ecospheres apart, instead of snuggling and shouting together, and annoying their brother for an entire day.

Subconsciously, a tee-hee escapes her. Thinking about her brother, she takes a look at the clock. Correct 12:03 am on 12th August. If she knows him, he is probably counting the seconds.

At 12:05 am to the dot, another shrill echoes through the silent apartment. Her guess is correct.

On the other side of the screen, sits Idhayan arranging the cake so that Pooja can see the eloquent buttercream designs he has hand made on it.

In the background, there is a blurry motion. It turns out to be Alekhya.

She jumps onto the couch beside their brother, putting an end to his steady concentration.

He makes an irritated face, while she laughs.

And Pooja just watches, giggling alone.

The pang in her chest reminds her, once & once more, about just how much she misses them.

How empty, monochromatic her life is, with all these miles between them.

For the past year, every time any event took a turn for the worse, broke her, or hurt her, she wanted to go back to her safe haven.

The place where the chronicles of her life begun.

Many times, she had found herself convinced (by others as well as her self doubting mind) that she didn't belong here. That she didn't have the calibre, the skills to strive in this fight of dogs, in this race of horses where she felt like a donkey.

Or maybe a snail.

She dreamed of sleeping in her mother's lap when she first found herself in the crossroads of feelings and reason. Making her muddled head clear with words that never crossed the barrier between dream and reality.

When Mrs Martinez died, she imagined herself sitting on the swing, her brother's comfort brownies reduced to messy crumbs, as she let the mountain winds take away the burden of dread that pressed upon her heart.

And the day when Landry's backstab became eminent? She visualized her sister ripping him down, shredding him with knives of words because that's what he deserved.

She knew her father would have made them both coffee like he always did when he came home during breaks from piloting. He would have said a mere few words, which would have been enough for her to see the path ahead.

The mini virtual celebration ends, and the silence settles again. Tendrils of sleep come and go, but never stay.

She is left alone with her thoughts and worries, and a fear of the unknown which is hidden by the curtains of the future.

--------

The day passes like a swift blowing wind in a desert.

It's quiet, too quiet.

And probably for the first time in her life, she adores it. To be away from the hustle of a celebration, which would have been a noise in the cacophony, given the situation.

To get a period of silence for her thoughts to drift away, to think about the unknown, to predict a make or break.

The pages are turned swiftly by her fingers, one of which is clad with a minimal gold ring, another old ritual of hers.

The library harbours the overworked interns, who are now pushing the boundaries of time to find a way to help their friend out.

Their tired eyes pain with the lack of sleep, coffee fuelling through their veins, and mind engrossed in picking up any clue, any line, any tip that could be supportive for them.

Hours pass, no-one utters a word. Pens run on empty notebooks, hands managing to create only messy scribbles. Black and Blue fill the white as if it never existed.

The clock strikes the end hour.

They all get up.

They go home together, for discussions and relaxation.

At the doorstep, everyone enters before her, while she stands still, too engulfed in worries to notice the happenings.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Confetti pops, her reverie is broken.

The smile shines like a jewel in a priceless necklace.

The arrangements are minimal, just champagne, cake and friends, but that's more than enough for her. To make her forget the dark fog of pessimism.

Maybe there is hope left.

-------

Second Year:

12th August.

The day that is drifting closer by the minute.

It has always been Alekhya's birthday for her.

On her phone, In her diary, In her mind.

People might regard it as a beautiful flaw of her nature, the flaw of always placing others before herself.

But to her, the instinct seemed natural, obvious. She had never delved into the whys, and she doesn't want to begin now.

For Alekhya, the circumstances became vice-versa.

And this was the beauty of their bond.

Strong, Pure and Selfless.

They never seem to realize that, though.

They hold onto the strings of simplicity, of sweet uncomplexity. And that is what helps them to bridge the gap between siblings and best friends.

After the tumultuous year, that very much resembled the completion of a voyage through the rough Indian Ocean, where storms ravage through days and endless nights, thunders crack, and waves that scale the heights between the ocean and sky to become mountains of water, crash on the feeble pieces of wood barely held together in the form of a boat, coming back to her origin, her hometown is a necessity.

Especially for her to find that normalcy again.

She survived.

Even though she fell, almost drowned, gasped for a breath more times she could count and nearly accepted her fate.

Until that is, the pale faces of the ones she holds close, the endless stream of tears that scale their cheeks, their breaking hearts, came to haunt her in her reverie and prevented her from closing her eyes & from letting that almost undetectable beat of heart stop.

The wishes from last year come back to her. This time, it wasn't virtual anymore. This time, it wasn't just painted in pixels, but written in buttercream letters, one which she could taste.

This time, the hugs weren't just virtual. They were very real, and very needed.

As she sits amidst the bushes of phenomenal florals, she lets her mind project in vivid colours, the extremities of the last year.

Her heart, breaking into tiny glass pieces, not perceived by the eye but sharp enough to draw blood.

The fear of losing and letting so many others lose along.

The coming close and going away, almost kisses and slide of unassuming hands, those which could easily be perceived as a mistake, but were anything but.

Competing in a nameless competition and almost dying in the process.

Getting the lost love back. Slowly, Gradually. (even if it felt too early to call it that)

And then... Her mind stops as the playful tunes start emanating out along with florescent light from the cellular, and the face of the one who has been a regular image of the thoughts that lull her to sleep.

On the other side, his voice is soft.

She can visualize him in the Diagnostics Office, leaning back on his chair.

Most probably on a break.

The new day hasn't even started for him, yet he remembers that it has, for her.

Their talks are interspersed with comfortable silence. For them, just the knowledge that the person on the other side is still there with them is enough.

All through the conversation, she waits.

In a hope that the irrelevant and unimportant date is written in faded letters somewhere in that brilliant mind of his.

As the line approaches its end, talks slowly halt, she feels a faint pang of sadness.

Maybe he doesn't remember it after all.

She bids her farewell, and as his finger hovers close to the end call button, she hears it.

Crystal Clear but still seeming unreal.

Happy Birthday, Pooja.

Her thanks are intermixed with a light giggle, unable to hold back the pleasure that erupts within her, along with the flutter called butterflies in her stomach.

Maybe there is always hope left, after all.

-------

Last year of Residence:

There have been countless moments when she has asked the time to wait, to slow its rushing footsteps that leave no mark behind.

Sometimes it's a beg, while in other vespertine hours, it's a mindless murmur.

This moment is one of them.

When a handful of sand is slowly released on a windy day, the swooshes and swishes carry them away, farther and farther, leave them with no choice but to fly along.

The minutes were being carried away by the same current, where they had no choice but to pass.

No one had the power to hold it, not even the mighties, the richest, the most supreme.

The conditions now extensively mimic the conditions during her first year.

Just this time, it was textbooks on internal medicine and medical procedure instead of ethics.

The wishes that day are hushed, the minimal party comprising of cupcakes and mug cakes and the gang, christened "The Invincibles" after they successfully tackle one hurdle and another but remain strong and together, in their PJs.

It must be one of the first nights since who knows how long when they spent their time doing an activity that doesn't involve colour coded tabs and complicated biological drawings.

And even though some of them make faux complaints about the wasted time, they all needed this break more than they could express.

The morning sun rays filter through the white curtains guarding the windows way too fast, making them unable to pinpoint the exact moment when the black of the night ceased to exist, when the sky became melanocrysus and when the golden took over the entire stretch.

A single text message pushes her to drop the blanket of laziness, the cocoon she inhabited. Getting up and placing a smile has never been as easy as it was now.

Come Over

------

The condo is inhabited by a stark silence when she reaches there.

She knocks. The click of the doorknob on the other side is almost instantaneous.

His hand wraps around her waist like a reflex deeply etched in his encephalon. For the first time in forever, their kisses are not chaste. Or momentary.

When he whispers a happy birthday wish against her forehead, that's what she would call intimacy.

The purity of the action touches her heart and makes it swell, with an emotion that she predicts will not remain unnamed any longer.

-------

First-year as an attending:

The celebratory vibes are in the air today.

Her stride is confident, heels playing a mellow harmony on the shining floors.

No one doesn't recognize her.

The intern who nearly lost her license to the Head of Diagnostics team, it was a journey that had thrown her off-road a million times.

Sometimes the barriers were pinpricks leaving no marks, and sometimes they were boulders crushing her.

And sometimes, one of these on-lookers would tear down her faith by stabbing her from the back, the cowardice of their soul, being mirrored in the blades of those knives of betrayal.

And yet she stands strong, her resolve unperturbed, as she faces the demons, those of others and those of her own.

It's a fight she has been learning to fight since she was eleven.

To curtain her tears with a glow in eyes, to hide the broken heart behind pretty lies. And just like practice makes one perfect, she has almost perfected the art of having to hide the real her inside.

As she passes the numerous congregations, amalgamations of patients and staff, she is greeted by wishes from old acquaintances whose kindness is apparent in their smile and by wishes of employed enemies, whose disinterest or sometimes blatant hate is too, completely apparent in their voice.

But they are not the ones she is worried about.

Interspersed between these two extremities are people who speak kind and in flattery lines with a sword behind their back.

Those who know how to hide their true intentions in the modulations of voice.

Every time she hears a wish where nothing is apparent, her heart stops for a while.

Strings of thought muddle her head and she tries to figure out the reality behind their words.

Sometimes she succeeds, sometimes she fails.

And sometimes she faces vehement opposition of her tired nerves who ask her to stop caring about those who are passing by.

But she never stops.

Her legs carry her to the Diagnostics office.

Her Office.

The swell of pride, of a fulfilment she last felt when she got into Edenbrook, make her head light.

She tries to stop but gives up the efforts soon.

If she has realized something through the twists of lawsuits and turns of almost dying, it is that if you keep waiting for the turns of the clock to approach a "right moment" for a chance to celebrate, you will probably keep waiting your entire life until your breath is being taken away and all that is left are regrets and missed opportunities of happiness.

So she twirls like a princess in her imaginary ball gown, beaming with satisfaction, and taking pride in giving herself the give of success.

Of making her loved ones and herself proud.

She gets so carried away in the train of thoughts, in which one bougie is connected by another, and one more, that she doesn't notice the person who preoccupies the room.

The halt is so sudden, that she almost tumbles upon the man. Almost.

She manages to get hold of herself, her hand on his back.

He turns, eyes meet.

If someone would have asked her what is cosmic, she would have said "The melt of glowing ambers into ice blue." Sure, she has looked into them more times than she can count or recollect. But every time their orbs meet, the reactions the action produces, she can only give the word seraphic to it.

When Ethan left for Amazon, she would often wonder why is she still keeping the lamp of hope alive. His absquatulation broke her, acted like a spark to her over-thinking mind. She would lie on her bed, eyes tracing the same lines on the ceiling above her over and over again, thinking just what she did wrong. She never reached the end of the path though, never really achieved the answer, even after meandering through a hundred courses of thoughts.

But now, she thanks her old self for living through it all. For not letting that lamp extinguish. For keeping it safe in a little corner of the labyrinths of her heart. Wordlessly, she hugs him, the plethora of emotions becoming quite too much to be expressed in minute syllables.

His whisper next to her ears, the innocently simplistic words induce a shiver in her spine.

But the last word.

4 letters, 1 word.

It hangs in the air like a diamond necklace around a maiden's neck. Like a tiny pendant that shines brighter than all elaborate jewels, all lengthy anecdotes.

It's enough, more than enough for her.

And as their smiles slowly spread like the slow rise of the golden sun, gently letting the rays spread through the humble earth. And those smiles, they shine together, brighter than the Sirius.

Happy Birthday, Love.

-------

Her casual gown, bearing floral patterns, flutters along with the soft grass, she feels a sense of wonder. Whether at the shimmering moon, the stardust spread through the stretch in the woods, or at the simplicity of her surroundings, she does not know.

Her unassuming footsteps walk slow, observant of her surroundings. After walking down the trail, she stops at the clearance.

At a distance, something shines under the silver moonbeams. Her mind beckons her to return back, but her intuition asks her to move on. She listens to the latter's plea.

A small cuboidal box and a bunch of white tulips lay peacefully out of place. She usually would have left it, just in case it was a trap.

But this time curiosity overtook reason and she picks the bouquet up. A small note amidst her favourite flowers.

I love you

No name. No initials. But she knew exactly who had written it. Not because he was the one who asked her to come here, in the heaven hidden amidst the chaos, but because those flourishes of his fanciful lettering would never escape her notice. Even if the only source of luminance was distant fairy lights on trees and the faint moonbeams.

Her eyes travel away from the articles. At a distance, the silhouette stands. The same silhouette from her sweven. But this time, there is no restlessness, no rush, no tension in the air. No thunder cackles and no waves crash. This time the silhouette waits for her, unlike the last time when it was her waiting for him.

He turns, only the shine of his orbs visible. And the shadow of the gorgeous smile that dances on his lips. The last time, his stone mask was too heavy, too powerful for any of them to break or move.

But this time? This time, the mask has fallen off, it has met the end of its existence.

He comes closer, the shadow now a clear image. He goes and picks up the cuboid and hands it to her.

"Open it" He whispers in a soft voice, that disappears as soon as it appears.

She takes it and opens it, as per his words. Everything is perfect and normal.

Except for the space in the middle.

Something sparkles, in silver lustre. Her first instinct is, Diamond? She decided to pick it up

It's a key.

She looks up to him, bewildered. Is it what she thinks it is?

Move-in with me?

She places the box of chocolates down, the key held tight in her fist.

And then she kisses him.

She doesn't have to speak a word, but he understands. After all, why would two intertwined hearts need verbal responses to know what the other one feels?

Only his home, can fill the brick walls of his house with love, and make it a home.

------

They both lay side by side on the lush grass, hands intertwined, hearts beating in unison, silence filling their souls like air fills their lungs.

They look at the stars and the moon. Or more appropriately, the gaze at the starry screen, but the mind plays significant moments from their time together.

Pooja's mind however thinks about the four of her birthdays since she set foot in Boston. The mundane softness of them, contrasting all the birthdays she has had in the rest of her years.

The photo frame of the interns from the first year. The group video call, her life from the second year. The PJ party from the third year. And the key from the fourth.

They are puzzle pieces of the saga of her life, the absence of friends from early years, the gap, the void now filled.

And after years of searching, she thinks she has finally found it. Hidden in the normality, the simplicity, the mundanity of life.

Happiness.

PS: If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎

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