#i am so unwell about this man if you couldn't tell

[vanmarkus]

EVAN BUCKLEY + close-up 8/?

[pomefioredove]

Hiya! Do you think you could write something romantic and fluffy with Vil? I love him!

hi anon of course! I am so unwell about this man

summary: being friends with vil schoenheit has its perks type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, mentions of food, friends to lovers huhuhu, maybe a tiny bit suggestive but also not really? lap-sitting and kissing

Someone should write a guide on how to be friends with Vil Schoenheit.

It did not come as naturally to you as you would have hoped. There were times when he felt like a star in your presence, not the actor kind, but the heavenly body.

Bright, and burning, and millions of miles away. Even as he sat directly across from you.

"You're not eating," he remarks. The comment is not degrading, though it is tinged with curiosity. "Is it bad?"

You haven't even sampled the meal yet- something fancy and expensive that you likely couldn't pronounce. He'd ordered it for you.

"It's okay," you lie.

He either buys your excuse, or ignores it. Either way, he reaches across the gossamer table cloth and switches your plates without asking.

Vil Schoenheit Friendship Survival Manual, rule number one: always assume his judgment is correct, until proven otherwise.

You look down at the plate- some kind of vegetable dish. He urges you on with a nod, lilac eyes fixed firmly on your pleasantly surprised reaction when you take a bite.

Rule number two: his judgment is always correct.

"Better?" he asks, not bothering to finish your food. He'll likely get something else later. "You really shouldn't skip meals. If you were feeling unwell, you should have said so. I would've ordered something lighter for you."

"Sorry. Didn't think of it," you say, taking another bite of his meal, if only to appease him.

You're hesitant to mention that the heavy feeling in your chest wasn't from illness, and so you say nothing more.

"No need to apologize. Here,"

Vil delicately reaches across the table and dabs at the corner of your mouth with his napkin. You hate how light-headed such a simple action makes you feel.

"Better. And don't worry about smudging anything, I have a few new products I'd like to try out on you later,"

Rule number three: always accept his gifts.

"Thanks," you murmur.

You were starting to feel as if you really were ill, the way your entire body warmed in his presence. Vil brought out a feverish sort of stupidity in you that made outings like this a minefield to navigate.

How painfully cliché, you thought. Hopelessly in love with someone far out of your league, with infinite options, none of which you could even hope to catch up to...

It made these evenings together pure torture.

You felt guilty for wishing he wasn't such an amazing friend. Must he insist on showering you in gifts and holding your hand every time you cross the street?

But being in his bedroom is another, dirtier realm of guilt. Vil saw you as a friend. Platonic. Someone he confided in, who he took under his wing. You were allowed to see parts of him no one else had, and yet, you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying because you can't stop thinking about the way his lips look when he speaks.

"Did you understand any of that?" he asks, bending down to your level as you sit on his bed. On his bed. And you had the mind to be thinking about doing romantic things...

Rule number four: speak when spoken to.

"No, sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind lately,"

Vil clicks his tongue and holds a hand to your forehead, feeling for temperature. "And you're sure you're not ill?"

"I'm fine! Just distracted,"

He chuckles, walking across the room to peruse his vanity. "Hm... and what sort of thoughts have got you scatterbrained today?"

You can feel your skin burning again. He could tell, couldn't he? All these weeks of coming undone every time he so much as looks your way couldn't have gone over his head... could they?

Or perhaps he was just used to people staring at him, stumbling over their words every time he spoke. Perhaps you were just another foolish fan who'd gotten to know him before falling in love.

You couldn't help but wish that there was someone or something that would just tell you what to do.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Vil sits beside you, a small, wooden box in hand.

"I'm supposed to promote these next weekend, but I'm not sure about them, yet," he says, opening the lid to reveal a plethora of lipsticks that likely cost more than your existence. "I'll need your opinion, of course."

"Right," you murmur.

"And I'd like to try them on you, as well,"

"Of course,"

"And you're alright with that?"

You nod. Ever the gentleman, always asking for permission. He's been quite generous with his products lately, giving them away to you like candy. You're almost certain he has a full list of your allergens somewhere.

Vil returns to the vanity, delicately prepping, and then applying the first shade. It's a marvelous, metallic pink, with dark red undertones that make it a regal color. It suits him, and you say as much.

"Oh, you think so? I suppose it does compliment my eyes, although I'd definitely need to pair it with something darker, else it become too overpowering..."

He clicks his tongue, and then turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Your turn. Come sit,"

There isn't another chair at the vanity, and you take that as your cue to awkwardly stand in front of him until he tells you what to do. He chuckles, amused by some thought of his that he doesn't share aloud.

"What are you standing there for? Sit,"

You awkwardly look around the space, eyes searching for a mysteriously hidden stool, something that should have been obvious...

He smiles. "Oh, don't be shy. We've known each other long enough by now, haven't we?"

You can't think of the right thing to ask, although your thoughts are quickly cut off by the sight of him gently patting his lap.

Sevens. If there were any time to wake up, this was it.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

He's not joking, of course. Vil hardly jokes. And so, you awkwardly straddle his lap, facing towards him, and allow him to get a good look at your visage.

He holds your chin firmly, studying your features as if he hasn't already seen them a thousand times before.

"Stay still,"

He's going to give you a heart attack, and there's a little quirk in his smile that tells you he knows it, too.

You wonder what your tag at the morgue will say. Death by Vil Schoenheit?

He starts with your skin, commenting on how soft it's gotten since he met you, then your eyes...

...Once he's satisfied, as he always is with his work, he turns your head so you can admire the makeup look in the mirror behind you.

"Stunning," he comments. "But you're missing something."

You look back, eyes wide. Surely, he hadn't forgotten something...? That's simply not in his nature.

He smiles at your confusion. "Remember? You promised to test these for me?"

Right. The lipstick. You nod. "Yes, but, I thought you'd already..."

"Oh, I do like the color. I'm just worried about this brand," Vil says. He looks away for a moment, almost as if to summon his courage... what a strange expression on him.

"What's wrong with the brand?"

He turns back with a small smirk. "They have a nasty reputation for smudging easily. I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself next weekend, hm?"

His cups your chin again, bringing you closer.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him!

He tilts his head to the side. "You don't mind, do you?"

You couldn't have shaken your head any faster, even with his grip on your chin.

"Good. Now, stay still. I think this will be a good color on you, anyway,"

He pulls you in with ease, letting his lips rest on yours for a second or two, before pulling back. Short but sweet, enough to make you feel like your entire body has gone numb.

He inspects your face, humming to himself...

"Good so far," he says, bringing you closer again. "But that was too safe. I won't hold back next time. Are you ready?"

You nod. Barely anything had happened, and you're already breathless. "Ready,"

Another smile crosses his perfect face, though he doesn't give you any time to admire it before he's kissing you again, one hand still cupping your face, the other holding the back of your neck and pressing you closer.

Definitely not a very platonic kiss.

It takes him longer to pull away this time, though when he does, it gives you a perfect view of his still-pristine makeup.

"Hmm... still nothing. I'm quite impressed with this line," he says, reaching behind you and returning with the wooden box. "How do you feel?"

Dizzy. Light-headed. Warm.

"Good," you say.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Or do.

"Not too much, I hope?"

A delightful realization was beginning to come over you, one that made all you had thought about him null and void:

No one else could possibly give you a guide on Vil Schoenheit, because he writes the rules himself.

"No. That was perfect,"

"Excellent," he smiles, and flips the box open again. "Because we still have six more colors to test."

[gg-neptune]

Bad Day

A night with Sev after a bad day. Hope you like it. :) Sorry for grammar errors (I love this pic)

Pairing: Severus x Reader

Words: 0.7k

Warings: None

It had been a long day for the both of you

Severus has had multiple students' potions go wrong leaving his classroom a mess and the poor man tired beyond belief

And you had so many disrespectful students you couldn't even recall them all as you thought back about the day that had just occurred

Not to mention a student had managed to somehow set one of your curtains on fire, meaning you now needed a new curtain

Without even thinking as soon as the last student left your classroom you gathered your belongings and headed to Severus’s chambers promptly locking the door behind you leaving a note to those that had detention to wait till tomorrow or something

You didn’t really care what they did at this point you just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep

As you were walking to Sev’s chambers in the dungeons you passed his classroom which was already locked

When you arrived, you decided to at least be polite and knock on his door

“What do you- oh. Hello there.”

You pushed past him ignoring his snappy tone before he realized it was you

You forced the door closed before you wrapped your arms around him clinging to him as if you let go, he wouldn't be there anymore

It took a while before you let go but when you finally did you took notice of the tired expression on his face

“Bad day,” you asked tucking some of his raven hair behind his ear

He simply shook his head before leaning down to give you a gentle kiss

“Me too”

Both of you were still in your teaching robes and after decided to not go to the Great Hall for dinner you both just took a quick shower together

It wasn't your room, so you didn’t have any of your clothes, so you were forced to wear his

Not that you minded

You grabbed the giant blanket off the side of his couch and draped it over yourself curling into a ball savoring it’s warmth as he observed you

“Comfy?”

“No.”

He gave you a questioning look until you reached your arms out inviting him to join you and of course not being able to say no to you he did

His big arms wrapped around you tightly as you settled against his chest one hand pressing against his chest and the other going up to cup his face

“As I am enjoying this, if I stay here any longer, I will not get up,” Severus said gently into your hair. His tone was sad almost like he regretted it.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You need to eat, love.”

You groaned in displeasure not wanting to let you of your human body pillow

“I know. I’m so evil. What do you want to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” you claim as you cling to him tighter refusing to let him get up. Even if it was for a good reason.

“Hmmm. Ok.”

Suddenly his arms tighten around you, and he hoists you up carrying you with him to his mini kitchen.

You simply accept this change instead of trying to fight something you know you’ll lose and snuggle closer to the man.

“I’ve got some uh… chicken wings?”

“You eat chicken wings?”

“No, I don't know why they're here. I did not buy these.”

You giggle slightly as you look at the box of frozen chicken wings.

“How about we just tell Dumbledore your unwell and I need to take care of you, and I get some food from the Great Hall for us?”

The man just stared at you still holding you in his arms. 

“Or not.”

Eventually he decided to just go steal food from the Great Hall. He returns with two plates full of food.

“Thank you Sev.”

“‘Course.”

You sit down on the floor and eat at the coffee table in his living room

Once you are both satisfied you store whatever is left over and resume your place on the couch

He seems much happier since he’s been with you tonight

You know you are

You gently ran your thumb over his soft skin as he hummed in content as he tried to relax a bit 

His arms felt safe and secure as if it was the safest place in the world

For you it probably was

You mindlessly began to play with his dark hair 

Until you heard a soft snore

You turned your attention to his face only to notice he had fallen asleep

Gently you wrapped your arms around him falling asleep as well grateful to have him by your side

[lunavrse]

PURELY PLATONIC(?)

CHARLES LECLERC

summary : are yn and charles dating? are they just friends? who cares? well, twitter does. category : smau. note : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. this wasn't supposed to be my 1st fic posted but it is what it is.

INSTAGRAM

like by pierregasly, youruser, landonorris and 658 422 others.

charles_leclerc finally got to see ma crevette

View all 2 172 comments

youruser thought we'd agreed that you'd never call that in public ever again

charles_leclerc no, you said that, i was silent

user2 were you silent or were you silenced😭

youruser you're such a pain in my arse

charles_leclerc you love me really

youruser unfortunately

username67 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP SOBBING

user08 they're so friends to lovers coded

username12 SHE DIDN'T DISAGREE!!!

pierregasly didn't you see her 2 months ago? when you flew out to see her

charles_leclerc that was forever ago

pierregasly *cough*whipped*cough*

this comment was deleted by creator

user8 I SAW THAT, YOU CANT HIDE FROM ME

user92 HE FLEW OUT TO SEE HER😭😭

user5 did anyone see pierres deleted comment or was it just me?

user16 no, I saw it too

user7 me too!

landonorris relax bro, no one's taking her away from you

charles_leclerc I'd like to see someone try lol

user99 adding lol to the end of your sentence didn't make it less threatening 💀

user420 *joker voice* why so serious??

user111 LANDO, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THIS??? ANSWER ME PLS, I AM IN YOUR WALLS

lunavrse pls pretend the manips look good👍 also the last one is just a random picture bc I couldn't edit it the way I wanted

user25 what the fuck are you on about?

user72 what is bro yapping about?❗💀

user7 WHO LET BLUD COOK⁉️❓❗❗

user222 monaco's finest😋

user00 them in the 1st pic have my heart

user000 UGH,, HIS DIMPLES!!!!

mutualfriend she's serving and then there's you

user777 two pretty best friends🤭

user66 two besties😁

user33 yeah... besties...

user92 REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD...

user29 REUNITED CAUSE WE UNDERSTOOD

user929 i love this song

user127 I KNOW Y'ALL SEE THE "MY" INFRONT OF THE PETNAME

user24 WE LOVE TO SEE IT

user9 that's honestly so fucking cute I'm crying

user88 charles repping ferrari where ever he goes!!!

user237 suprised it's only the one tbh

user228 as he should!!!

user1616 THE WAY HES LOOKING AT HER😭😭😭

user090 face cards never declining ❗

user10 charlito te amo❤️ !!!

user47 never knew i needed this until now

user74 so real bro

user27 please back away from my wife, it's hard enough seeing her with another man and you have the audacity to rub it in my face😭

user123 two best friends in a room... they might kiss

user262 can we talk about how close they are??? like they just seem so touchy!!!

user751 no fr!!! you can't tell me they're not in love with one another

user12 see if he was touching me like this, you'd never see me again because I'd be deceased

user61 so real of you tbh

user767 pls they're so...

user50 im not allowed to see these, im unwell

user44 you look so cute !

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris has posted to their instagram story.

you replied to their story.

YOU DUMB BITCH DELETE THIS ⤷landonorris SORRY, IT WAS MEANT FOR MY CLOSE FRIENDS

you replied to their story.

DELETE THIS YOU CLOWN ⤷landonorris DONT YELL AT ME! I'LL DO IT NOW

you replied to their story.

is that charles and yn

lunavrse replied to their story.

this is the worst manip in this post<3 (editing note: it's actually not, it gets worse)

you replied to their story.

LANDO IS THAT CHARLES AND YN

you replied to their story.

Lando mate, they're gonna kill you

you replied to their story.

I KNEW IT, MY FAMILY SAID I WAS CRAZY AND THEY CAN KISS MY ASS

you replied to their story.

Carlos owes me €100, I knew it'd be you. can't wait to attend your funeral

this story has been deleted

TWITTER

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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, landonorris and 712 273 others

youruser suprise but not really🎉

View all 7 252 comments

landonorris does this mean I get to live?

youruser you're funny.

landonorris what do you mean?!? please don't kill me

youruser see you soon x

charles_leclerc we look so good❤️

youruser the best baby❤️

user19 BABY SHHSHSHE

user91 IM SCREAMING, CANT BELIEVE I GET TO SEE THIS

pierregasly glad i don't have to suffer alone and the rest of the world gets to see how gross you guys are

charles_leclerc weren't you the one who sent me a voice note crying about how happy you were when i told you i finally asked her out ?

youruser aww, pierre, you cried???

pierregasly he's lying

charles_leclerc do you want me to send her the voice note?

user65 it's quiet, ain't no back talk🤭

user80 charles said, i've got receipts bitch💀💀

user71 THEY LOOK GOOD TOGETHER!!!

user22 idk who i want more

user505 me and who?

user005 me n u?

user505 lol no

user101 IMS O USED TO GIVING ANDN OW I GET TO RECEIVE 🥹

user41 PARENTS

user14 IKTR😌

user06 IM SO GLAD WE GOT (OFFICIAL) CONFIRMATION

user003 god, me when?

user79 i want both of 'em😋

user25 I need to know when this happened 😭

user87 same😭

[an-au-blog]

Trans (ftm)Sanji who absolutely refuses to sleep with Zoro for multiple reasons. They've been together for a while but he never let's them go further than making out. (because i need to post angst more than I need air)

CW: some sexual themes!!!, body dysmorphia, easting disorder, internalized transphobia, mentioned pregnancy, emotional breakdown

Sanji's main concerns were that: 1. Zoro wouldn't want to be with him because he "wasn't a proper man", 2. he'd treat him differently or 3. he would end up pregnant. That probably terrified him the most. Everything about it was horrifying to him: the idea of carrying a living thing in his body appalled him. And even if he lived through it, he was also scared with how the child would turn out. What if it turned out like him, or even worse - like his biological brothers or father, not to mention it could be physically unwell with how much he smoked.

One day, in the heat of the moment making out, Sanji gets carried away and forgets himself. It was only when Zoro started grinding against him that he started getting nervous again. The swordsman broke the kiss and pulled away a bit. "Is something wrong? he asked, I have a feeling this isn't doing anything for you..."

Sanji realized he was talking about not feeling his erection, and he feels like a moron for letting it get to there. On autopilot he answered "I'm fine, I'm a bit under the weather is all" while lighting a cigarette. He walked out ignoring whatever Zoro tried to tell him and as soon as he was out of sight he rand to a secluded area. Thought started flooding him.

He'll think I'm not attracted to him, and then he'll break up with me, and he'll hate me, he'll find out what I am and he'll hate me, even worse - he'll think less of me, that I'm weak and tell everyone and they'll leave me, or worse.

He doesn't know when he had fallen on the ground but he was rocking himself with half a pack already gone. His vision was blurry. He wanted to scream to rip his throat open and let all the painful noises bubbling inside it. But everyone would hear... they would hear and would hate him for not being what he's supposed to... So he stood there, hoping he doesn't catch a cold, muffling his sobs best he can, and wondering why he couldn't die on that Godforsaken rock when he had the chance.

But he didn't have the power over that. What he did have the power over was his own wretched body that caused him so much pain and what he did with it.

He decided from that day on, he was going to reduce his meals in half. If he became thinner maybe what little was left of his breasts would vanish and at least he wouldn't have to wear something to suppress them. So he did. He did it as subtly as possible. But maybe didn't do it as well as he thought. He realized they might be onto him when Luffy of all people offered him some of his food. Sanji declined and lied saying he had a big lunch, so he's not hungry now. But then the next day Zoro approached him to call him out on his bullshit. He would end up pushing him away eventually, maybe if he started being meaner and more standoffish from now, it would seem less of a problem when Zoro leaves him.

Still, Sanji didn't know how to deflect the accusations, so he did what he did best and agitated him best he could. It led to a fight that Sanji lost. Not eating was more draining than he thought. They would usually tie or at least have someone interfere but he was out in less that five minutes. He was weak. As punishment, he decided he would stop eating dinner altogether.

He was good with food. He's known food all his life, and it's the only thing that he feels like he could control. So at least that, he could do.

[mah-t-wordblog]

HI! I know there aren't many of these types of requests, but can you accept a Ler Kagaya, Amane and Lee Giyuu? Pleasee

Ofc ✨💛

"Treatment"

Ler: Mester Kagaya, Amane

Lee: Gyuu Tomioka

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Ships: NONE

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down

This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Gyuu sat in front of his master. His wife, Amane, was right behind preparing something to drink.

It was amazing how much respect he had for that man.

Gyuu bowed

“What makes you call me, master?”

Kagaya smiled

“It’s nothing formal, Gyuu, it’s just a consultation I’ve been doing with my children”

The hashira looked at him, confused

"What it is?"

“I don’t think you’re well” he reached out and held the man’s hand “are you feeling unwell, my child?”

“Should I be honest, master?” Gyuu said without emotion

“Of course, but know that your actions will have consequences” Kagaya laughed, Gyuu looked confused

“I haven’t felt well for a long time, master” Hashira sighed “I guess I’m not happy now”

Kagaya sighed

“Everyone else responded like this…”

“Except Miss Kanroji” Amane said softly, but the master heard and laughed

“Except Mitsuri, and do you know what everyone got, even Mitsuri?”

Gyuu widened his eyes “what?”

“The happiness treatment, which I usually use with my children, you know what it is, don’t you?”

Master Kagaya approached Gyuu, making his stomach turn.

"I- I don’t-"

“Come on Gyuu, haven’t I treated you like this before?” He flicked his fingers as he approached the other

Gyuu wanted to remain firm, but he was too anxious and couldn't contain his silly smile.

“Y-yes, m-master”

“Then it will work, especially if you are as sensitive as you usually are.”

Kagaya finally placed him hands on the man's stomach

Gyuu let out an exclamation

He wasn't laughing yet, he was holding back

“You don’t need to hold back your laughter here, Gyuu”

Was it true? The hashira placed all his trust in that man, and he had already gone through the treatment before, and the other times laughing had made him feel better, Gyuu didn't want to hold back his laughter

Then he finally started laughing

Kagaya traced paths through Gyuu's ribs

“You seem much happier, my child, but the finishing touch is missing” the master turned back, still squeezing the hashira’s ribs “Amane, dear, can you help me?”

The woman was confused, but got up and went to whoever was calling her.

“What do you need, my master?”

"Can you help me? Keep pressing here where I am, on his ribs” Kagaya seemed very excited

“But- I-“ the woman was confused, did the master want her to tickle someone? And Gyuu there laughing on the floor, would he want her to tickle him?

In fact Gyuu was laughing too much to notice, he was focused on letting his laughter flow

“Yes, just like you are doing” Kagaya congratulated Amane when he saw what she was doing “now… what do you think about this spot here, Gyuu?”

“Nohohoho, mesteheher!”

“Sounds like a good spot~”

Kagaya pressed on the specific place on Gyuu's kneecaps that made him jump.

Amane was a little confused, but smiled as Hashira's laughter increased.

“MEHEHEHESTEHER PLEHEASEHE”

“That’s what everyone says, right Amane?”

“Yes, master”

The hands tracing his sides and ribs combined with the hands squeezing his knees made Gyuu want to scream

“MEHEHEHESTER STOHOHOP”

Kagaya smiled

“Okay, okay” he signaled the woman to stop

Gyuu lay on the floor

“Are you feeling better, child?”

“Yes, master, thank you very *hic* much” Gyuu’s eyes widened at what he had just done

The master laughed “do you have hiccups?”

“Apparently *hic* yes” Gyuu smiled, he wasn’t afraid to smile at his master

“So deal with that hiccup, and remember, every time you’re sad, I’m here.”

Kagaya gave the hashira a hug

Gyuu got up

“Thank you, *hic* lady”

Amane looked at Gyuu and smiled

“Your laugh is contagious, sir.”

Gyuu smiled, and finally left

At the exit, Muichiro was waiting to enter

"What happened?" The youngest asked when he saw Gyuu all messed up.

“Ah, nothing *hic*, you can come in, you *hic* will like it”

Then Gyuu left, leaving Muichiro confused, he was happy, the master really knew how to cheer him up

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Thanks for reading 💛💛

[ilovenarumitsu]

Dazed

NaruMitsu / WrightWorth — short crackfic

In which Miles Edgeworth does not reply for two days and Phoenix Wright grows incredibly worried.

Phoenix was worried. Miles hasn't answered his texts for... how long? Weeks? Months?

"Two days, daddy." Trucy said, trying to calm him down. "I'm sure he's just busy in the prosecutor's office, him being chief prosecutor and all. No big deal."

"But it is a big deal, Truce." He sighs.

Life in the Wright Anything Agency was tamer, to say the least. Normally, Phoenix wouldn't mind if Miles hadn't replied to his messages, he'd be too busy catching up on his workload and bills to care. But now that he had Apollo and Athena to distribute the burden, Phoenix has some uncomfortable downtime that he's not particularly fond of.

Trucy rolled her eyes. Phoenix always liked having a big workload. Not that it didn't stress him out at times, considering the deadlines and all, it just gave him no time to think about other things like life, or, Edgeworth. But all these days, all Phoenix knew to do was to think about the prosecutor. He couldn't understand why he couldn't just get him out of his head! It's like– like he's in love with him or something! No, no. That's a silly conclusion.

Phoenix put down his hands on the table, firm and unmoving. "You know what? I'm going to go down to the prosecutor's office and show them who's boss."

Trucy looked at him, perplexed. "I'm not sure that's the greatest id–"

"Well I'm doing it anyways!"

"Daddy, are you drunk?"

Disregarding any words and protests from Trucy, Phoenix walked out the door, still in his wrinkled suit that Miles will oh so very much disagree with. Trucy's jaw dropped when she realized that he was actually going to do it.

–

Walking into the prosecutor's office unannounced was something that Phoenix liked doing. It was always a surprise for Miles, but usually he'd entertain the company.

Eyes traveled towards Phoenix with the terrible presentation of his suit and his hair! All messy, disorganized, and unpleasant to look at. But Phoenix had his eye on only one man and one man only. The man that stands different from the crowd. And that man stands in front of him right now.

"Edgeyyy!" He wailed, making sure to extend the y and giving Miles a hug from behind.

Taken aback, Miles froze in place but was ready to fight the threat behind him under any circumstances.

Slowly, he turned, and saw a disheveled Phoenix Wright; half-kneeling on the ground while his arms are around Miles' waist. Miles looks down at the defense attorney, puzzled and concerned.

"Wright. This is highly inappropriate. We are in a workplace, please, behave properly."

"Aw but Edgey," he began tearing up, "I missed youuu!"

Miles stood frozen as everyone in the office looked at the two strangely. A red flush creeped up on his cheeks.

He let out a cough but quickly came back to that voice, stern as ever. "Let's discuss this in my office, Wright."

–

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Phoenix teased.

"Are you well?" He asked, putting his palm up against Phoenix's forehead. "You're burning up, Phoenix. Do you have a fever?"

Phoenix grinned. "Ha– you called me Phoenix."

Miles snapped. "What does that matter, Wright? You are extremely unwell. How did you even get here? You are not fit to drive."

His answer was a simple word, "walk."

His eyes turned bloodshot. "Walked?! You walked here? You stupid, idiotic, imbecile. I am taking you home and telling Trucy to make sure you get some rest."

"Milesss." Phoenix teased.

Miles' eyes sharply turned to Phoenix as he quickly took his coat.

"I love yo–"

"Daddy wake up, you'll be late." Trucy poked and then crossing her arms.

"Huh? What? Truce?" He asked, completely dazed.

Trucy rolled her eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have let you go drinking with Uncle Larry on a work night. Now quick, Mr. Edgeworth is waiting for you in the living room."

That was... a weird dream. A weird, strange dream.

[vrmxlho]

"you look unwell."

"do i?" your tone betrayed your disinterest. it was very evident to those around you that you were bored. so utterly bored, you couldn't bear being in that place; but your conversing partner did not seem bright enough to pick that up.

"yes, worse than usual."

"than usual?" you didn't care for what others had to say about you. you had grown quite desensitised to the endless talks and endless gossip that encircled you, but there was a limit to your patience. you were no saint. however, the unusual circumstance you were in proved helpful, in the sense that, it was allowing you to leave the conversation justifiably.

"forgive me, i did not mean..." he trailed off, he had finally caught on, he had overstepped.

"you did not mean to speak your mind?" you let out a false laugh, hoping it would give you enough leeway to escape the horrible situation you were engaged in. "it is all well. but i must take my leave. my lord." you thanked the heavens he did not stop you or try to apologise. maybe you ought to thank him for his ‘services’.

making your way closer to the entrance you heard the sound of carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells. the night was coming to a close; the warm glow of the chandeliers reflected off the gilded mirrors and the polished floors of the ballroom, while the soft strains of the orchestra's instruments filled the air; it was all hideous and horrible, you could not think of anything but how to get away from it all.

"young lady, where are you going?" turning around you half expected to see a mouse with how squeaky the voice speaking to you was, but there stood a boy standing (half-confidently) in the doorway. why was he calling you young? if anything, you looked older than him.

"just a quick promenade in the garden." you hoped that would’ve been enough to leave you alone, but he seemed displeased with your answer, so you added, "would you like to join me?"

"unchaperoned?!" he looked offended to have even been asked to join you. maybe you should've been offended too?

"it shall not be unchaperoned cousin!" now this was a confident voice. a young man (really, this time) walked up to the boy from behind and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"re—"

"pleasure to meet you lady..." he interrupted. his pitch rose at the end of the sentence; it was a question.

"y/n, l/n. and you are?"

"lady y/n l/n, it is lovely to meet you. great people, the l/n's, lovely family, lovely people—"

the empty chatter was beginning to bother you.

"i would like to know who i will be walking with.". 

"aren't you demanding? my lady." he teased. his hand still on the boy’s shoulder, pulling them both towards you.

"forget it." you turned on your heel aggressively and headed towards the looming dark green garden, lit up solely with the flickering fireflies. it almost perfectly reflected the starry night overhead, the turbulent purple clouds and shooting stars falling gently behind them. it was a shame the night was being missed by all the people wasting their time indoors. at least you had been left alone for once—

the young man ran up in front of you and bowed, before giving you his hand. a gleaming smile graced his lips and he seemed quite pleased with himself, like a child figuring out how to do something mundane (to others that is, children often find the silliest things extraordinary) on their own.

"i shall not accept it until you tell me your name."

he sighed in defeat, but he never wiped the stupid smile off his face. again he nodded in a half-bow. "am i allowed to follow you?"

"you can do as you please." you weren't just pretending to be indifferent, you truly didn't care what he did. the idea that you might be trapped into a marriage with the young man if you were caught with him alone had crossed your mind at some point but wouldn't that just mean you could step away from the 'marriage mart’. he seemed smart enough to hold a conversation, and he did seem to possess some aesthetic qualities. all wasn't bad.

"coz! join us!" he yelled as he trailed behind you, like an excited puppy. and the boy obliged. he looked scared, as if his cousin would hurt him if he did not follow through.

"so, my lady, how are you enjoying the night?" he once again offered his hand as you both stood awaiting his cousin to join you.

pushing past his gloved hand and raising your skirt ever so slightly (so as not to ruin it in the garden) you replied, "i have participated in better balls."

"it saddens me to hear that." holding his hands behind his back he stepped closer to you. faking a hurt frown. you raised a brow inquisitively. why was this man so invested in a ball he had not organised? and why was he not telling you his name?

"this is the prince's ball, why should it bother you?"

"you're quite correct. it should not bother me." he chuckled. "coz, what did you think of the ball?"

"you—" a stern look from the mysterious, nameless, young man and the boy corrected himself all too quickly, "the prince must have worked painstakingly for days, it was very well organised, the orchestra was lovely and—"

"enough about the ball!" you said, far too angrily.

"was it really that tiresome?" this time the enigma sounded genuine.

"please, do ask me why i left the ball." you said through gritted teeth.

"why did you leave the ball so early, my lady?" he leaned forward casually and looked you in the eyes, as if deeply interested in what you had to say. you were taken aback– this was a first. you had supposed that he, too, was just as disinterested as you were, and that all the conversing was just a formality. perhaps you were mistaken.

"to be left alone, to get away from the incessant questions about my marriage, about a courtship. is that really all a lady is worth? i truly believe that women are much more interesting than men shall ever be; so why should we withstand the boring, meaningless questions?"

"i don't—"

"please, my lord, do not say a word."

the rest of the walk was quiet. you could almost hear the grass snapping under your weight from how silent everyone was. this was what you had wanted, yet it felt claustrophobic and uncomfortable. by the time you had done the round of the garden and seen all that it offered, the cool air had started prickling your skin. you were sure the man had noticed the goosebump on your exposed arms, neck and back but he seemed to be trying not to invade your personal space again.

a second time approaching the excessive abode you watched a mass of people emerge from the front door and head towards their horse-drawn carriages, with footmen, drivers, and all. that was who you were, the daughter of a duke, rich and privileged. your duty was to secure as advantageous a match as possible, but everything related to that prospect infuriated you. it was a strange feeling, being so aware of who you were supposed to be, yet not wanting to be them. it was a constant battle, and neither side felt truly right.

a man wearing a very tall hat had approached, distracting you from your thoughts. he bowed grandly, taking his hat off before turning sideways and stretching his arm out to point to the buildings, “your royal highness, the archduchess requested your presence.”

the mysterious man nodded his head once and started towards the indicated location.

"you're prince reo mikage?" you called after him. suddenly it all made a bit more sense. not that it wasn’t still a confusing situation. but all the interruptions and stern looks could now be pieced together. your exasperated voice made him turn around at once. it seemed he had found a reason to stay.

"i suppose." he chucked, "but please, call me reo."

"no..." you weren't sure where this crazy sense of daring was coming from. you hadn't even bowed and apologised for your rudeness yet, in fact, here you were denying a simple request. a prince was not the sort of person with whom one ought to trifle.

"no?"

"it would be rude to call a prince by their name without also using their title." you noted primly, he seemed to take this into account for a second before replying, eyes sparkling with bold intent.

"would it be rude to use my name if we were, say, courting?"

"we are not courting."

"but it remains a possibility, my lady?"

you caught an audacious gleam in his eyes and you felt a final breath leave your mouth. you parted your lips ready to say something, but not a single word was spoken. there was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.

“the archduchess does not like to wait, your royal highness.”

“yes, i must be on my way, my lady.” he muttered distractedly, turning back to bid you farewell, “i shall call on you soon.” he nodded again and left.

and there you stood, foolishly, under the moonlight, listening once more to the carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells, the night had finally come to a close, truly this time.

you walked aimlessly towards the carriage your mother was standing beside. she looked distraught and anxious, betraying her worry at your absence. you weren’t completely sure what had happened that night and you were dreading seeing reo again, (prince reo, you corrected yourself), unsure of his intentions towards you. deep down you knew you weren’t special enough to capture the interest of a prince in just one night, so was he coming to reprimand your rudeness? you shouldn’t have spoken as much as you did...

however, as the morning drew in, it permeated the night and conquered all the fear and trepidation you had harboured as you slept. you were ready to face all the consequences of your actions and you were ready to protect your family. as you read in the sitting room this fearlessness only heightened. there was no way you would let a young man such as himself, prince or not, shame you and your family. you were prepared to do whatever it took.

“why are you up so early?” the voice of your mother interrupted your thoughts, “after all the sighing and eyerolls from last night, you must be exhausted!”

“i find myself full of energy all of a sudden...” and before she could reply or register what you had just said you quickly added, “i would like to meet the prince.”

“sorry darling, what was that?”

“mother, i would like to meet the prince.” you repeated, this time with more conviction, “to thank him for such an eventful evening, truly one of the best soirees i have ever attended.”

“although i’m sure the prince would appreciate such a sentiment,” she said hesitantly, “i doubt the daughter of a duke could simply call upon a grand prince. there are certain rules one must follow, especially regarding royalty.”

“then, what must i do to secure a meeting?”

she looked around, confused, before prodding you with, “i’m not quite sure myself dear, but may i ask why you wish to meet the prince?”

“i want to give him my thanks.”

she sighed deeply before plotting herself next to you on the sofa. “this is so unlike you dearest. what is it really?”

uncrossing your legs, you swung round to face her fully, “mother, truly, i simply want to–”

before you could finish, the door to the sitting room blasted open, and your butler rushed in, his face burning red and his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “your grace, the prince’s carriage has arrived.”

“so soon?” you murmured, feeling a sudden wave of nerves wash over you. it had hardly been a day and he was here already. all that confidence you had been building up seemed to have vanished as soon as the news of his arrival reached you.

“has this anything to do with your request earlier, darling?” your mother whispered, shooting you a worried glance.

“i don’t think so...” you feigned innocence as she looked at you dubiously raising a brow. nevertheless, she had no time to waste on the matter, immediately taking the now sweating butler to the foyer to greet the royal guest.

you suddenly became very aware of just how unprepared you were for a visit from royalty. you weren’t wearing anything spectacular, and you hadn’t even done your hair yet. you weren’t a mess per se, but were far from ready to attend a royal meeting. but you really had no time to think as your mother entered the room once again, her disposition now distracted and anxious.

“y/n, the prince wishes to meet you in the garden.”

“in the garden?”

“yes. if you know anything about this, please tell me now. i am worried for you.”

“i shall tell you everything soon.”

“y/n!” your mother exclaimed, but you had already ran out of the sitting room, flinging your book onto a nearby sofa and pulling on the gloves she had just taken off.

upon opening the doors to the garden, you saw the same figure you had walked with the previous night. as he turned he flashed you a charming smile, you felt a flutter in your stomach and a warmth build up in your cheeks. part of you was pleased to see him there, but only a part.

“we should marry.” he walked up to you, offering a hand. had he not grown tired of your refusals? you couldn’t help but pity his persistence, and that was the only reason you accepted it. it was warm and sturdy; he must be an adept dancer, you thought to yourself; of course, he was a prince.

“is this how you greet every lady you call on?”

he chuckled while placing your hand on his elbow and guiding you towards the fountain that stood in the centre of the garden. “only the ones i wish to marry, my—”

there you were, interrupting him again. was this your punishment? and if it were, why were you digging a greater grave for yourself rather than just accepting defeat? wouldn’t this be easier on your family?

“i barely know you, your highness.” you protested.

“does my reputation not precede me?”

“i have no interest in gossip, so i know nothing of your reputation, your highness.”

“you shall if we marry.” he continued, as if all your concerns meant nothing to him. they probably didn’t. princes are not accustomed to the word ‘no’.

“you are quite literally the last person i intend to marry, your highness.”

his mouth fell open mockingly as he gave you a rueful look, “you would rather marry my cousin?”

“your high—" you began, but he interrupted. it would be a miracle if the two of you could ever finish your sentences in each other's presence.

“if you are so keen on calling me by my title perhaps ‘my prince’ would be better suited.”

“it would be inappropriate, methinks.”

“and methinks, the lady doth protest too much.” he quipped.

“reciting hamlet shall not woo me, sir.” you retorted, trying your hardest to appear displeased and disinterested.

“then what must i do to secure your heart, my royal highness?”

“i am no princess.”

“you will be if you answer my question, my lady.” he stopped abruptly to look at your face fully. you noticed things about him you had not seen before. his strong yet gentle eyes, the way his hair fluttered slightly in the light zephyr like feathers of doves, and how he always seemed to be charmed.

he was vaguely amusing, vaguely annoying, vaguely vexing, but you couldn’t quite help but admire his wit. what you didn’t admire so much was his persistence and his refusal to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“why me?” you asked finally after what felt like a century of just staring at each other.

“because you fascinate me.” he replied simply, as if that were the most obvious fact in the universe.

you suddenly felt very annoyed, and you didn’t shy away from showing it. you scoffed loudly before replying. “anything can be fascinating, if one is curious enough.”

“you truly are wise beyond your years.” you were wrong. he wasn’t always charmed, in fact in this very instant his smile dropped, and he gave you a grave gaze.

you looked at him for a long moment, feeling unaccountably stung. he seemed to notice the discomfort but said nothing and the two of you stood there staring into each other’s eyes.

“i should take my leave.” he bowed slightly; it was different from the sorts of bows you had received from him. they felt hurt in a way. “your presence has truly brightened my morning, my lady.” his tone did not indicate anything of the sort, it had turned monotonous and distant, and you found yourself longing for his animated self once more.

“so, are we to marry, your highness?” you tried asking. you hated how you sounded so desperate, you hated how you had admitted defeat and you hated how he was leaving, again. why were you calling for him as he left, again? could there ever be a time where he wouldn’t leave.

“not yet.” he said modestly before departing.

days turned into what felt like an eternity as you struggled to despise him with every fibre of your being. and you really did struggle. he was dragging your chastisement for far too long; how cruel it was for him to toy with you like this. you were not his prey to play with before he devoured you. but as much as you tried to resist him, you couldn’t help the way your heart ached when he was gone. it was foolish; you had known each other for barely enough time for him to have such an impact on you. but there was no doubt, you missed him terribly.

your mother, too, had grown tired of asking you about his abrupt visit after more than a week had passed. but your attachment to him only grew stronger.. it was absurd to miss someone who tormented and vexed you. but you supposed you had always been a rather peculiar person.

“dearest, another ball? are you positive?”

a whole month had passed since the incident. very well, it was probably no more than four days, but it felt like months. every second felt like eternity without him. you had attended every ball there was to attend in the past days, days, and nights. yet any time you tried to approach him, you felt like a fool. why willinging walk into a trap of a marriage? what was wrong with your head? no, your heart, what was wrong with your heart?

you were sure this ball would be like every other. some schubert, or mozart if you were lucky, assaulting your ears. women flocking around your prince and him not even sparing you a glance. you wished to be alone in the garden again, just with him this time. you weren’t certain what you wanted to do, you weren’t certain how you would even reach such a circumstance and, you weren’t certain you wanted to listen to your heart at that exact moment. 

“no, i’m not, mother.” 

“what is it dear?” you could barely make out her voice anymore, the darkness of the night outside was pressing in around you and you felt yourself begin to cry. 

your lower lip quivered as you chose your next words very carefully, you did not wish to speak your feelings into existence, and you surely didn’t wish to let your mother know about your affections. “my head hurts, i think the scratchy music from last night has taken a toll on me.” you coveted the energy to add a fake chuckle to that, but you did not have any left. so you looked at her, eyes dead and mouth smiling. it seemed to have worked, she gave you a sad, pitiful look, said some sweet words and left. 

you soon heard your tears begin to drip from your eyes. it was a soft, gentle sound, like the fluttering of a bird’s wings, but it echoed through the silence of the room like a thunderclap. you missed him so much it hurt, it was a dull ache that settled deep within your chest and refused to be ignored. 

you stopped. you had to. you heard a loud crash echo through the room as it came from the balcony. you spun around, heart pounding, only to see a flower pot had toppled over and shattered on the ground. just great, you couldn’t simply be left to cry, you had to be killed as well. 

your nerves on edge, you cautiously treaded towards the balcony, sensing the chill of the night air on your skin, and the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end. peering over the stone guardrail you saw a familiar man frantically pacing in a circle. why was he here?

“my lady—” he yelled. when the moonbeams lit up his face you saw the state he was in. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. his cravat was almost entirely undone and his eyes were wild. 

as soon as you heard him you charged off, without a second thought. your fingers grasped onto the walls as you ran down flights of stairs, your mind growing dizzier and lighter with every step. as you reached the bottom, you caught sight of him through a nearby window, approaching with a frenzied haste.

with a burst of energy, you pushed open the massive doors and stepped into the crisp night air, coming face to face with the prince. both of you were out of breath, your faces flushed and minds blanking in the presence of each other. 

“my—”

“what do you think you’re doing here?” you asked sharply. in truth you didn’t want to know at all, you were just glad, grateful, honoured, to see him again. and so close. 

he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the vulnerability of the moment, “can we walk?”

you nodded, feeling your hand enveloped by his warm, slightly rough, ungloved skin, as if he had been out without his gloves. you felt yourself melting into him, and dear god, it was just his hand, but you could feel yourself moulding into him so easily.

“what is it, reo?” you asked softly, turning to face him. the concern etched on his face did not go unnoticed. 

in a voice tinged with worry he said, “you look unwell.” 

“i am unwell.” 

“i’m sorry.” he replied quietly. and he really was sorry. he wished he could be there for you, but he had grown hyper aware of how uncomfortable he made you feel. 

“if you were really sorry you wouldn’t have stayed away for so long.” your usual unreadable expression had contorted into a pained and depressed one. 

“i cannot stand to be away from you, you are my very life, and every separation gives such endless heartache...yet, i cannot force someone who doesn’t wish to see me to feel what i feel.” he admitted, his voice heavy and hoarse with sorrow. 

“i do not wish to see you?” you repeated, heart murky with confusion.

“do you not, not wish to see me?” he asked, his gaze intense as he searched your face for any sign of affirmation. you opened your mouth to offer the prince a scathing retort–why was he being so secretive? you hated him. but then, just when you were ready to sharpen your wit, something else popped out of your mouth instead.

“i want nobody but you for my lover, and my friend; and to nobody but you shall i be faithful.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could even think to stop them. the air around you seemed to crackle with energy as you met his gaze, your heart struck in your chest. you felt strange, queer, almost as if you were somehow suspended in time, ready to lift off your toes and float away. 

you weren’t sure when it happened. it hadn’t been sudden and clear in an instant. you weren’t even aware you loved this man until it had crept up on you and your own words professing your love for him divulged the information. 

for a moment, he just stood there, staring at you, as if trying to process the weight of your words. but then he smiled; most annoyingly, most beautifully. and without warning, he stepped forward, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him. his lips found yours, and he was none of the things one should be the first time. he wasn’t gentle, and he wasn’t sweet. he just kissed you, intently. with everything he had, with every ounce of desperation coursing through his veins.

as he pulled away, his lips found your ear, and you felt more than you heard, “i missed you.” 

you wanted to say that you’d missed him, too, but he was too close, and you were too warm, and your voice escaped you. good heavens, did every woman have this much trouble breathing when standing so close to a handsome man? it was no matter though, he was soon kissing you again; you had no space left in your mind to think of something so silly as breathing. 

[turtlesocksv2]

4 Minutes Ep 7 Liveblogging

We've only got 1 episode left after this, I fully am expecting shit to go off the rails here.

Yeah this is about what I expected from Tonkla and Dome's dad. All those people who were thinking Tonkla killed the cat were fucking stupid, I'm not afraid to say it. Poor kitty.

Tonkla shoving his dad down the stairs is so deserved.

not this guy putting a sketchy-ass sd card into his computer...don't u know anything about cybersecurity. but corrupt cops ARE stupid.

Win is so funny with his "we'll go to the media to apply pressure and get justice" like awww. he's trying.

Tonkla seeing the cat. my babygirl is Unwell.

Win is a dumbass for not backing things up. Jane from Manner of Death would be so disappointed.

Crabcatcher Guy coming in clutch i KNEW he was gonna have a backup copy he was smart.

lmao of course Great's parents are fleeing the country. of course. and leaving their sons behind!

Lukwa/Den is very cute, conceptually. poor Den dropping the cookie when she revealed she had a boyfriend :( but then the slick reveal that she's Single Now...i like them!

Poor Tyme regretting the last words he said to Great.

"sometimes we can resolve lingering feelings, anyway, be right back here's my research into cardiac arrest and seeing 4 minutes into the future" or whatever...DEN. Den are you telling Tyme to go have a heart attack so he can make up with Great in his head. What the fuck. The joke about Den being a supernatural creature causing it becomes more valid. I know he's really probably pointing to Lukwa's statement about hearing her boyfriend's voice and it pulling her out but my first reaction was funnier.

Bible in the hospital bed, Jes holding his hand...I've seen this movie before! And it made me sad!!!

"can you forgive me Great?" THE TEA CUP MESSAGE. THAT WAS TYME TALKING TO GREAT IRL! no wonder it didn't mesh!

oh shit, killing Granny in cold blood while he's facetiming her. Yikes Forever.

ugh Great's dad is such a snivelling weak little man piece of shit. "Korn's mom couldn't help me :( i really want to divorce her :(" like Fuck Off. Great's mom was totally mob connected pre-everything wasn't she. that's gonna be the reveal here that those investors are the mob.

Well, it's Tyme's parents who own gambling dens so like...Yeah I was right.

Awww Babby!Great looking over Tyme's shoulder to see his Gameboy. with cartridges! it really is the past... And Babby!Great being scared of a tiny chihuahua...very cute. Baby Tyme really does look a lot like Jes...that's some good casting.

fucking back at 11:00 again. now Tyme's reliving the past, how the turns have tabled.

[magefeathers]

My full video of the Tampa Ritual \o/ Yes, I'm insane for recording the whole thing, but also I couldn't really see through the head of the guy in front of me so I'm glad I held my phone over my head for an hour and a half. Audio quality is better than the video quality as I was quite zoomed in, but it sure is the whole show.

Show highlights, in my opinion:

it's very silly, but Vessel, iii, and iv all standing with their backs to the crowd at the end of TNDNBTG was just very cool, to me. cool guys don't look back at the explosions etc etc

also silly, but watching Adam run around stage taking pictures was fun

just. the way the crowd screams when iii and iv (but especially iii) come out onto the stage, and every time they come back out. iii sure is the master of crowd control and the crowd adores him for it

Vessel's barking during The Offering, because me too bestie it's a fun verbal stim (also all I can think of is the Letterkenny bit about DMX barking)

Vessel's screams in general, I'm not typically a fan of harsh vocals but he sounds soooo fucking good live

ii raising/holding out his arms, gesturing at the audience, making what looked like prayer hands, etc. I've seen videos of him doing that but never realized how much he did it, he's so interactive back there and I feel like a lot of the time he isn't paid attention to and/or can't be seen behind the kit

I feel like iv was doing a lot of spinning!! again it might just be bc people usually seem to focus their videoing on Vessel and iii but I wasn't expecting iv to spin as much as he did, and it was fun to watch!

iv was also hanging out on the little stand the keyboard was on for a lot of the time, it was very cute when him and Vessel were playing together up there

Atlantic. Jesus Christ. I was tearing up not only from the song but from the amount of blue lights in the audience, which the video does NOT do justice (I realize in hindsight, it's because I was so zoomed in, I wasn't capturing the full view of the stands)

watching the Espera grooving, especially during the beginning of Hypnosis and the breakdown in The Summoning, they looked like they were loving it as much as the crowd was

The beginning of Alkaline, good god. The camera drifts because I was so entranced by Vessel's stage presence that I wasn't looking at my phone for a while. The way he pulls the mic away from his face and kinda hisses on the end of desire.... I am unwell. I can't tell if you can actually see his fucking grin in this video or if it's just the lights on his face, but if you haven't seen the closeup vid someone else posted of this moment, please track it down. I've been compromised.

Missing Limbs. Fuck. I was crying. Everyone was crying. The way he sings the "without you lying next to me" and "like I've got missing limbs" broke my fucking heart. I adore this man. (bonus: you can hear me saying hell yeah at the beginning bc my bestie @/vacationbiblestudy came back from the merch booth with a shirt for me! he's the one that says "it's pretty" lol)

I'm not gonna lie, I kinda rolled my eyes at the INSANELY noticeable increase in crowd response at the beginning of Chokehold, and then again at the beginning of every TMBTE song, but honestly? The TMBTE portion of the show was genuinely my favorite. All of the songs went so fucking hard. Vessel's voice just got better and better as the show went on, idk how the hell he does it. He started the show amazing and ended the show phenomenal. Witchcraft.

The Summoning. Everything about the Summoning. It wasn't my favorite when I first heard it, but it grew on me, and god it fucks SO severely live. It's incredible. Vessel's voice, his screaming, the Espera dancing, Vessel squatting down to examine iii's playing (and the way he stands up stock straight afterward?? lmao), the DRUM SOLO!!!! and the way everyone waits for Vessel to do the damn Will Smith pose by ii and just screams for him on command, the way Vessel carried the "bad" in "make a good girl bad" god damn, everything.

iii got a mosh pit during Granite, maybe one day he'll get a real wall of death, but at least he got something lmao

the rain sound effects during Rain are really amped up live, and combined with the lights it's just so atmospheric and beautiful

Ascensionism live ALSO fucks severely. I'm surprised the camera wasn't a lot more shaky with how much I was straight up throwing ass. And the lights looking like stars against the ceiling of the stadium was so pretty, even though it didn't translate well in video. And I know I already mentioned ii's hand motions, but especially during Ascensionism, from "my redemption, eternal ascension" until the drums kick back in, ii was FEELING IT back there and I was having so much fun watching him

The bucket hat situation during TMBTE lmao I need to get a clip of just that bit and post it separately. Someone threw the hat on iii's side of the stage while the lights were down and iii was over on iv's side of the stage, and when iii came back he just picked the hat up and immediately put it on. He wore it for a while, then put it on Vessel, who also wore it for a while before just. throwing it on the fucking ground LMAO and then he proceeded to, essentially, dance around it until the song ended and a crew member threw it back out into the crowd

EUCLID!!!!!!!! GOD. GOD. I was getting teary eyed and then the way Vessel sang "do you remember me" just broke the dam and had me sobbing. iii getting the crowd clapping and then stopping them because they weren't on rhythm, and making them start again, iii wearing Sleep Token Mickey ears???? THE NIGHT BELONGS TO YOU!!!! and Vessel literally on his fucking knees for the whole end of the song 😭😭😭😭 and again, Adam in the bg taking pictures (god I hope they get posted at some point)

THIS GOT A LOT LONGER THAN EXPECTED............... THE WHOLE SHOW WAS A HIGHLIGHT. The fact that you can't hear me singing along, or screaming, is a highlight, because I absolutely fucking was. The whole show was fucking incredible, 100000/10, would recommend until I'm blue in the face, worth every goddamn penny I spent and ounce of financial stress the trip put me in. I will never fucking forget it. Especially since I have video evidence lmao

[bogbees]

caught up on firefly wedding and like. god. GOD. THE SENSE OF DUTY. SO MUCH DUTY. WE SHOULD BE CHARGING THEM FOR DUTY!! I AM UNWELL

satoko's is for her father, getting married so he can die peacefully knowing she's in good hands.

kotaro's is for satoko's future/smile, her wellbeing.

shinpei's is like... not really there at a glance, like he's just a hired killer going around protecting the women fr their shitty customers. but then it's like. boom. it's satoko but more so her entirety?? everything she is, that's his that he's sworn himself to.

and it's potent bc satoko's own sense of duty begins to waver under the pressure of his heart... she's worried about it and like. tries to confide about her conflicting feelings with someone she thinks of as a dear friend. and instead he just. tries to resolve her feelings through physical means: killing him, or removing her from his reach.

and he's right for it, bc he knows her happiness would be a marriage with someone respected.

but he's wrong bc she just wanted to discuss her complicated feelings. make her thoughts clearler by talking through them with a trusted friend.

she KNOWS it's foolish to get caught up! she's well aware, that's why she wanted to talk about them!

and she was thinking about telling shinpei about her feelings!! he asks "you don't want me to hear?" and she responds "not yet," and like, she had resolved herself to tell him, even if things couldn't work out the way they'd like between them

BUT IT SURELY MUST BC THE OPENING TO THIS STUPID MANGA IS AN OLD MAN REREADING LETTERS AND CRYING BY FIREFLY LIGHT. GOD.

[kennyomegasweave]

Playboyy Finale Reaction

I am just sitting in my bed staring off at my wall in utter silence.

Under the cut are my live thoughts during this finale and you can see me descend into insanity.

Oh poor Phop is in hella debt? Baby. 

FIRST, SOONG DOESN'T WANT TO BE YOUR SUGAR BABY. But also Soong. Baby. Just let yourself be a sugar baby. He's younger than you anyway. "I don't want to sit around and do nothing and still live an expensive life." Okay Soong that's admirable but like. Couldn't be me. 

Okay, if Nont and Prom think someone's gonna bust in the door, maybe don't stand in the doorway? Also. Yes Nont, finally get your dad involved. There's no need for your friends to be doing all this. Your dad is rich and connected.

"No one has issues with me like you do." Captain, my favorite boy, Puen isn't the one that's been an asshole here. I'm sorry though, are we gonna get Captain having some character growth in the last two episodes after being the absolute worst? Oh baby. 

TUTOR. SOONG. NO. First. Oh. He's really gonna fuck up his relationship over this huh. Goddammit First. Baby you can't just make appointments to beat up men sexually when you feel bad. That's not what we do love.

NUTH. My boy. NO.

Aww Nont is like this was not the fucking plan. Has a single plan of Nont's gone well? Because I don't think anything's gone like he wanted this entire show.  

Oh shit wait. Damn. Is Nuth gonna go down for Nant's murder now??? Holy shit. Can someone please go find Phop cause he is just sobbing alone in their shitty apartment.

Hey Keen! My love! Just sitting on the couch like you belong. Glad you're here to campaign for Nuth. That's my boy. My two boys.

I kinda feel like Nont should have brought Prom as backup for this scene. Cause everyone else has their man (except Porsche because Jump said he didn’t want to hang out with these losers I guess?) and he's just standing there like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️.

Well. My dear sweet mentally unwell child is in prison. So. I mean. I guess that's that. FOR FIVE YEARS??? HE'S GONNA DO FIVE YEARS??? OH MY FUCKING GOD. 

Jump and Porsche are cute. But Nuth is gonna be in prison for five years and Phop is a baby in hella debt and I'm just like.

I mean, lick that dick Porsche, but what does that mean to me right now. When Nuth is IN PRISON for FIVE YEARS. 

....is Phop OD'ing??? What in the fuck is going on??? Like is he really fucking dying right now??? Alone??? In his fucking bathroom while his man is in prison??? 

Welp. I think the baby just fucking OD'd alone in his bathroom while his man is in prison so like. When I tell you. There's 13 minutes left in this show and I'm done. I AM DONE.

At this point I am so angry that I'm not even reacting. Like. This show really just wanted to hurt my fucking feelings and did. Unless they do some surprise twist? I'm sick. This is SICK.

What the fuck is that painting??? Am I supposed to recognize who that is??? Cause Zouey's art is shit and I don't. What the fuck is going on here. I've long since realized I'm too dumb for the plot so like I just need someone to tell me if Phop is alive cause I don't think he is. And I need to know. I NEED TO KNOW.

I'M STILL ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS ABOUT PHOP BUT THEY JUST BUSTED OUT SOME BONKERS ASS SHIT WITH FIVE MINUTES LEFT WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. 

Umm okay so it just ended??? I'm guessing they cliffhangered it for a second season? But these shows RARELY ever get a second season??? Oh this was an entire waste of my fucking time. I'm not even mad. I'm actually laughing. lol

WAIT IS THIS WHOLE THING NUTH'S SCREENPLAY??? DID PHOP KILL NANT??? What the shit is happening here??? Again, I'm not even mad now. I'm in awe of this. lol

Well, that certainly happened. Alright then. I don't even know what to say at this point.

[feralkwe]

For the Director's Cut: To The Edge (And Back Again)

Also, i just want to congratulate you on your exquisite taste of being an Elidibus fan. He is so <3

to the edge (and back again)

this dinged danged fic may be the best work i've ever published. it is, hands down, the one i am most proud of writing, and definitely the one i worked the hardest on. so many lovely little threads to pull together. i spent so much time reading so much lore, combing wikis, sifting through short stories with a fine toothed comb. listening to music. replaying cutscenes. i've never worked so hard to get the lore so right (and i still made some pretty big errors!). it is the most work i've put into a fic ever, and my only chaptered canon character centric work. in a way, it was my white whale. it is by and far the most popular fic i've ever written.

the shb patches gently and slowly broke me as the more we learn about elidibus through them the more he broke my heart. in the beginning i was furious about what he does to ardbert, and it quickly evolved and i felt awful by the conclusion. at the end of the trial the wol is putting down the remaining shell of a very broken man, angry and mad and absent the memories of why he is so driven, and in the throws of rage in his grief at being the last of the unsundered. there was no glory in that victory. nothing to take pride in. it is quickly apparent after anamnesis anyder that he is unwell. even y'shtola mentions that it seems like a mercy killing put in motion by emet-selch. i think the game meant for me to be very sad about one thing at the end of seat of sacrifice, but i was very, very wrapped up in elidibus' fate. the wol has no choice but to stop him, and the only way to stop him is to kill him. i was devastated that it came to that. perhaps being someone who suffers from psychosis made it personal. i couldn't say for sure.

and then after all of it, he gives the very last of his self, his essence, to send us back in time to do what he could not.

it was some time before i did the pandaemonium raids, and they smacked me in the face from the moment you drop into elpis. i became preoccupied with elidibus (and since i played them so late, i already knew the themis-elidibus connection). how did this clever, sweet, smart, driven, and oh so young man who valued his job and duty above all else, get to "i'm going to sacrifice myself to give life to god?"

more than that, the overarching story of ffxiv reinforces a falsehood that zodiark was corrupt, power hungry, and even the source of all evil right up until fandaniel actually corrupts him. this just is not true. even though the writers carefully leave us a trail of crumbs to lead us to question the in-world narrative of zodiark's motivations and morality, much of fandom blithely accepts hydaelyn's misleading of the wol and the word of the lopporits, who are unreliable, being literal creations of hydaelyn herself. the zodiark plan worked. the souls who sacrificed themselves saved the world, at least bought it time. and elidibus somehow got to a place where he felt it was his sole responsibility to bear it all.

it worked. and the burden broke him on the most fundamental level even before hydaelyn made her choices.

that journey gripped me so hard that i had to tell that story. i had to set the record straight in a way that satisfied me. the souls who fueled the creation of hydaelyn get to be literal gods. the souls sacrificed to zodiark are all but forgotten. we only know one of their names. elidibus fought until his last breath for them, for better or for worse. that has to matter.

and now i kill him at least once a week in the hopes of getting my hands on that "fleeting moments" orchestrion. i begged forced my free company to help me do the seat of sacrifice (extreme) so i could get the axe that drops.

so, thank you for this ask. i am so normal about elidibus in a way i've never been normal about another fictional character before.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

I'm surprised you didn't think the Logan Paul podcast was a big deal. What it showed, to my mind, was an alcoholic who had been manipulated into coming on the show drunk (iirc they were plying him with whisky?). There was at least one point near the end where they were directly goading him into saying why he was there at an NFT conference, and he looked like an idiot, quite frankly. I felt they were deliberately humiliating him for content. Amazed that wouldn't make an impression on you.

But apart from that, some of the things he said were just...chilling. A man telling us he had nothing inside of himself, that he was clinically insane, that he had no ideas because he never learned what he liked (he was 29? 30? by this point). He came across as cold-eyed and heartless about others, more than once. The self-aggrandisement in itself seemed like a symptom of something bigger than just being drunk. What I took away from the whole thing was that he probably had some sort of personality disorder. I don't say this to dunk on the man, I clearly remember thinking he needed a lot of help.

I suppose I am asking: why didn't you think any of this - and I only touched on a fraction of it - why didn't it seem like a big deal to you? He was clearly very unwell!

I didn't think it was a big deal, because I'd been paying attention to what Liam had been saying over the years. I'd read his interviews seen the programme he did with Ant. Nothing in that interview surprised me, because it wasn't new.

I think it was 2018 that Liam started going into detail about mental health and addiction struggles. He said that he'd been on drugs so strong that he hadn't known what was going on during OTRA. He described needing to drink to do elements of his job (like music videos). He said that he was doing better.

Then, every interview after that was the same. He was sober now, but he had struggled i n the past. He'd describe in detail the way he was alternating between exercise and substances. He'd always present himself as doing better - and it became really clear that that wasn't true. That Liam was packaging pretend resolution to the interviewer, because that's what they wanted to hear - but he was really distressed all the time and couldn't find any way out.

Looking back it was probably the first time that he'd talked sober - but even that wasn't that different. He was still trying to make the interviewer happy - it was just a different interview who wanted a different thing.

[feline-evil]

It wasn't funny at the time but looking back on it man it is genuinely hilarious how my first attempt at getting diagnosed and getting help with my mental illnessess went.

So imagine if you will the skinniest, most unwell, sleepless looking 18 year old, just real Victorian orphan vibes with permanent shakes and a penchant for passing out in fear if he so much as thinks of leaving the house. I need you to know that's the kind of state i was in when i walked into a doctors office to see one of the oldest men i've ever seen in an employed field. He sits me down and asks me what's wrong, he's the GP at my local doctors; that's a general practitioner, if you're outside of the UK maybe that's not a familiar term. Anyway he's not a psychologist, you don't get to see a psychologist unless your GP refers you! Anyway he asks me whats wrong and i explain to him my long list of debilitating anxiety symptoms, i tell him about not being able to eat or sleep or leave the house; i'm in a bad way at this point in my life, it's not a good time for young jay! Lad doesn't even know he's a man yet! Pretty bad time all round!

And so after i explain to him the situation we get our first of the many funny 'i'm not sure this man is qualified to have this conversation' red flags.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Uh oh.

Well no, sir, on account of the not leaving the house socialisation has been tricky, see?

"Oh you need a boyfriend and some friends, that'll help love :)"

Uh oh.

It is at this point in the appointment we are winding down towards the end of my time here at the doctors, and our next big ol' waving red flag hits like a jet liner. And this ones the big one, the one that gives me reason to tell this story and watch people look a mite aghast.

The GP laughs, claps a hand on my shoulder and says "well don't you worry, we won't be locking you up for this one!"

I freeze in shock.

What did this man just say.

Now, i don't wish to imply that this wouldn't be a horrifying thing to say to a different teen riddled with severe mental illness who didn't have a family history of relatives being admitted to psychiatric institutes, but i am suggesting that MAYHAPS. JUST POTENTIALLY. That was a slightly more horrifying sentence to come out of a medical professionals mouth to someone who has that as a family history in his own living memory! So i lock up in horror, alarms blaring in my mind, wondering how the fuck i'm going to politely and finitely end this conversation and meeting and leave vowing never to cross this mans path again in my life; but i don't get much time to ponder what to do, because here comes the final red flag, that second jet liner crashing right in, the final can of petrol being poured on the burning wreck that is the first appointment i have ever made to talk about my mental health.

This man, a complete stranger, i had never met this GP before in my life, hugs me. It is so uncomfortable, i would not say i am the most comfortable with physical contact from strangers even now nearly ten years later, but then? At age eighteen? This is just about the worst thing that could've happened in my eyes! I do not come from a family that hugs, i didn't not know how to hug back then, in that moment it's awkward and weird and i just freeze and wait for it to end, and then i leave the room with the GP beaming and waving after me like he's just performed a miracle and i'll forever be cured from this point on.

I walk to my mom waiting for me in the waiting room, she smiles and gives me a thumbs up.

GENUINELY it couldn't have gone worse, objectively the funniest awful situation i have ever been in.

[juliasdowntonstuff]

My dearest Darling

I just posted a new story, this time it will be a multi-chapter fic. I'll try to upload once a week (if university doesn't get in the way too much)

This will deal with loss and grief again and especially the beginning will be rather heavy, so read only if you can or want to!

Short summary: Cora had been feeling unwell for weeks leading up to their trip to France. Back home, she had Doctor Clarkson run some tests and the results are not at all what she had hoped. How will she cope with this new reality, and will she be able to help Robert and their daughters to come to terms with it? This is a *slightly* altered ending/continuation to A New Era

"I won't beat around the bush, Lady Grantham. The test results came in yesterday, but I confirmed them with specialist colleagues in London first before coming here, just to be safe. Though, I am afraid that it really is as bad as we initially feared."

The doctor stood in front of them, clasping his hat in his hands in front of his body. He was most uncomfortable having to relay the bad news. He had so wanted to have been wrong, wanted his colleagues to tell him it was a misdiagnosis, but they had not.

The Earl and Countess both stood there, their hands intertwined, standing so close to each other that their shoulders were almost touching. Neither of them moved or seemed to breathe.

Robert felt all the colour drain from his face, felt his hands getting clammy, and his heart stopping its usual regular beating, now merely stumbling along, or so he thought at least. This could not be, he must have misheard the Doctor's words. This just could not be true.

"So it really is cancer?" Cora asked or rather said, her voice leaving little room for discussion or uncertainty.

Robert didn't dare look over at her. If he did, he was sure he would lose his composure again, just like he did in France when she had first told him of her suspicion. This time, however, they weren't alone, they were never alone in this house – least of all with Doctor Clarkson still standing there. He would not cry in the middle of the great hall of his home, in front of their doctor, not as long as he still had an ounce of willpower left inside his body.

"Yes, my Lady, I have had it confirmed by several other doctors in London, specialists in this particular field of medicine. I wanted them to tell me I had made a misdiagnosis, but they did not. They offered to help draw up a treatment plan for you and are doing that as we speak," the Scottish man replied, a remorseful expression on his face.

The doctor did not know what else to say, and so he waited for both of them to process the information.

After another few uncomfortable seconds of silence had passed between them, Cora found her voice again.

"Thank you for coming all the way here to tell us, especially this late in the evening. Please have yourself some dinner from the buffet. Though I am afraid we don't have any servants out here tonight, they are all busy becoming film stars," she said with a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood ever so slightly, mostly unsuccessfully.

The doctor nodded curtly and walked to the buffet tables a few feet away to grant the Earl and Countess at least some privacy after having delivered the horrible news.

"Robert?"

He still had not moved, not an inch. He felt hot and cold at the same time. His heart beat fast in his chest, but it also felt like it had stopped altogether. He could feel her delicate hand on his arm, sensed her gaze on his face, but he couldn't bear it. He could not look at her, not without losing it.

Just when she was about to step in front of him as a last resort to gain his attention, a frantic voice rang out from the gallery above them. The loud shrieking snapped him out of his trance-like state.

"My Lord, my Lady. Come, quick!"

It was Denker, his mother's maid. She was waving her arms frantically, trying her hardest to catch their attention.

Oh no, she couldn't, could she? Not today.

Doctor Clarkson spun around on his heel at the noise, searching the gallery above for the source of the noise. Looking alarmed, he quickly followed Cora and Robert upstairs after putting his still-empty plate on the table.

It was not long after that that the whole family had gathered in Violet's room as she was saying her goodbyes. It truly was a good thing that Mary had persuaded her grandmother to move back into the Abbey when she had first talked about her visit with the London doctor. This way, she was surrounded by the people closest to her in her last moments and was not lying alone in her bed in the Dower House.

He stayed strong, not showing his inner turmoil, not even as his mother drew her last breath while holding his hand. He watched his two daughters, who never seemed to have much affection left for each other, clinging to each other and crying in their shared grief over the loss they both felt at that moment.

He felt Cora run her hands over his suited chest and squeeze his arms, trying to reassure him, silently telling him that he was not alone. He knew he should be there for her, should be the one comforting her after her horrible news just minutes before, but he could not move.

Robert did not want to let go of her hand, he couldn't. Not when she had taken his hand in hers on her own accord. She had never done that, not even when he had been but a young boy who had scraped his knees playing outside with the nanny. It had surprised him when she stretched out her frail hand in his direction, and he had taken it without hesitation, running his thumb lightly and delicately over the back of her hand in soothing circles.

She had said her goodbyes to those closest to her, all joined together at that moment, assembled in her bedroom. Even in her death, his mother had kept her wit, and it made it all just a bit easier for him and everyone around, or so it seemed.

And she had said it, said that she had been wrong about Cora. After all these years, she had finally said the words he had longed for her to say ever since he got married almost forty years ago. She had apologised, and they had made peace after so many years, it made him feel glad and gave him some needed comfort in these trying times. And he would certainly cling to this moment, he knew. How the two women most important to him had finally come to some form of understanding, had accepted each other.

Robert had then looked at the doctor hiding away in the corner, not wanting to intrude even more in this private moment. Only then, he had stepped closer and checked the pulse, confirming what everyone had already known was coming with a quick nod. Luckily for Cora and Robert, everyone else was too preoccupied with the proceedings of the evening to question Doctor Clarkson being there at the estate the minute Mrs Denker had alarmed them about Violet's deterioration.

The doctor then stepped out of the room shortly after confirming her heart had stopped, giving them the room to say their last goodbyes as a family, and heading downstairs to tell the staff. He was met at the foot of the stairs by Charles Carson, the former butler, who had been as much of a constant in this house as the now-deceased dowager had been for the last five decades.

Richard Clarkson did not need to say a word, the doctor's grim expression told the former butler all he needed to know. As the doctor left the abbey for the night, Carson went down to start making arrangements with Grassby's to help his former employers – and to tell the staff. They had all been aware of the steady decline of the Dowager's health and knew it was only a matter of weeks when the family returned from the south of France. The day had come sooner than they thought, but it had come, and they were waiting downstairs for any news.

Back in the room upstairs, Robert was the last person left, still sitting in the same spot, everyone else granting him some last moments alone with his mother. He sat there, kept her company and talked to her without a word ever leaving his lips.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there on his own, and he had not heard the door open and close again.

"Robert, it is time to let go. Come to bed, please."

Cora's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but she startled him, nonetheless.

He turned his head to her, his eyes full of unshed tears. She had rarely seen him like this, and it scared her, thinking about their future or whatever it was they would have.

"Give me another minute, please. I need another minute."

His voice sounded hoarse, as if it belonged to a man twenty years his senior, until eventually giving out at the end. He even looked as if he had aged those twenty years within the last three hours, and it broke her heart to see him like this. It broke her heart to think that someday, soon, he would be sitting there again, with her lying still in the bed, him holding her hand and refusing to let go.

She didn't reply, fearing her voice to betray her as well, but walked over to where he was sitting at her bedside. She noticed that had not moved away from his chair.

The both of them looked at the still form on the bed, both lost in their own thoughts, until he finally let go of the hand he had still held firmly in his. He set it down as gently and carefully as he could, letting his big hand rest on her smaller, wrinkled one for a final time.

Robert got up and lightly pressed his lips on her forehead, giving his Mama a last kiss. He straightened his back, and stood at her bedside for another second, just looking down at her, taking a mental image of her peaceful form in the bed. He wanted to remember her, his mother, for as long as he possibly could, especially looking so peaceful in her last moments. There were no lines of worry on her face, only marks of a long, fruitful life.

If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought she had just fallen asleep.

And in a way, she had.