#i jus think shes neat

[obsidian-art04]

Nyx, goddess of night

- Eden/Ray 🍇

[falinscloaca]

the misbegotten are sooo underrated its insane

[the-meme-monarch]

now that we know darkners can exist for things like The Weather Channel i think it'd be fun if sans and papyrus were darkners of their respective fonts

[telndas]

❛ glad to see you haven’t become food for the vultures. ❜ 

❛ It is good to see you too, Daemos, ❜ Suhani says in a half-hearted huff.

She feels it though, beyond the mirth and deep into her soul. She feels she needs to be put out upon a chair, allowing the vultures and wolves to pick her bones clean until there is nothing left. But even then, she doubts it will happen. Her blood is too rotted, her bones too brittle, even her flesh a moldering state that not even the lowest of insects would feast upon her.

But she looks to Daemosyrâxes now with a kind of relief at finding an old friend, even if he may not see it as such. ( An old face, then. One that has seen her wade through the muck and mire of Ferelden and the Blight altogether. ) It is not often, now that they have all gone their separate ways … To do what they will now that they have the chance to do so. Suhani tries not to dwell on it further.

❛ Half of you seems to be absent, though, ❜ she then says once she settles, her staff digging into the ground to give her more balance where she stands. But she glances around the other as if expecting what she now refers to, only to come up empty. ❛ Where has your Miirik gone off to? Have you been spoiling her further? ❜ A brief smile, amusement flickering across her gaze, but it falters.

@wyrmsire !

[cheriladycl01]

I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader

Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.

For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.

Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.

You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.

Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.

"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.

You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.

Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.

"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.

"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.

"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.

"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.

"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.

You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.

Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!

But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.

Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.

And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.

He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.

"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.

He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.

He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.

It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.

And god you loved him for those attributes.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.

But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.

He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.

And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.

He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.

You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.

Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.

But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.

And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.

But ... now wasn't the right time.

You would always take your Whiskey neat.

And Lando ...

Well.

He was far too sweet.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[muldermuse]

An Unlikely Hero (ex boyfriend!Billy Butcher x reader)

this is going to be a multi part series!!! i love exboyfriend!butcher and he is on my mind constantly. if u would like to read more about him here’s some more posts! if you wanna talk about him pls send me your thoughts ❤️ dividers by @saradika ❤️

part one: the first date

OR

the first time you meet Billy Butcher

You swore to yourself that this was the last Tinder date you’d subject yourself to. Last week, you matched and met with Jack who had a Homelander sleeve tattoo and cried to you about how hard it was to be a ‘true American’ nowadays.  The week before that, it was Shay who seemed sweet but kept trying to ply you with drinks and invite you back to his place (he bragged that his ‘folks were out of town’, which would be impressive if you were a hell of a lot younger than you actually are). This week’s date is named Harry and he’s just not right for you. You thought it over texts but as soon as you sat down with him tonight; it was confirmed. It’s not even like you have a great previous relationship as a point for comparison, all romantic love has been fleeting and, with how things are going currently, you imagine it always will be.

It's a few hours later and Harry’s suddenly a lot drunker than you. You’ve moved from the overpriced restaurant to your favourite bar. The drinks are questionable in that they’re both incredibly cheap and very strong. You grab two stools at the bar which is overwise empty, apart from one man nursing a whiskey. You’re sure Harry’s drunker than you because he’s currently sobbing into his craft beer about how he hasn’t felt a connection with anyone since his ex-girlfriend, who left him 3 months ago for a co-worker.

“Like, you’re nice y’know. You seem like a nice girl” you try not to recoil at the phrase “but my ex? She was great. There’s no one else who’s ev-hic-ever been like her and there never will be”. The guy sat next to you at the bar mutters a “fuckin’ ell” under his breath as he gestures towards the bartender for another neat whiskey. His accent is completely out of place in this local dive bar; he sounds European. No trace of an american accent so you consider that he could be a tourist who’s wandered into a bar looking for a cold drink and some respite.

You try not to smirk at the utterance and tune back into what Harry’s saying, “I think we’ve both just gone through the motions tonight, don’t you agree? I can tell you’re not really into me and to be honest, I’m not into you”. You kind of admire his candor because he’s right, you’re not into him in the slightest but the next thing out of his mouth quickly dispels any misplaced respect you held for him. “I’ve been real lonely since she left though…maybe you could come back to my place-hic-she’s uh…some of her stuff is still there but there’s not a lot of it in the bedroom”. He’s that plastered that what he assumed would be a casual hand slide up your thigh becomes a full push, hurtling you into the whiskey sipping man next to you. You fall into his chest, it’s strong and kind of feels like slamming into a wall. 

“Right, tha’s fuckin’ it” the potential tourist speaks and it’s only when he stands up that you realise how broad he is. He’s tall with thick black hair and the beard to match. His outfit is seemingly prepared for a spectrum of weathers with a Hawaiian shirt clashing with a thick overcoat. He’s older than you, definitely older but absolutely attractive. More attractive than anyone you’d seen on Tinder or, probably, ever in your life. “You alright there darlin’?” his dark eyes bore into yours as you nod and cough out a meek ‘yes’. You silently curse yourself, the first thing you say to this strong man makes you sound like a small frightened mouse.

“’M jus’ gonna get rid of your little pal there and then I’ll buy ya a drink- alright?” his hand rubs your bare arm and sends a flurry of goosebumps across your skin. The whole interaction feels more charged than anything you’ve had before with another human, you wonder if he’s feeling it too and pray that he is.

“Oh nice one man, I’ll have uh…another craft” Harry gestures towards the tap, completely oblivious to the situation in front of him

“All you’re fuckin’ gettin’ cunt is a helpin’ hand out that fuckin’ door. Now, I’ll ask ya politely one last fuckin’ time…fuck off” he elongates the 3 letter word. A comically confused look spreads across Harry’s face. “’M on a fucking date here man and she’s coming back to mine, aren’t you?”

“No” you quickly deadpan, shaking your head at the still unnamed man.

“There’s your answer then cunt, off ya fuck” 

“Butcher- no fuckin’ blood on my bar this time man” the bartender shouts whilst idly checking his phone. Butcher? Is that the guy’s name? 

Harry stands up, pushing out his chest which, if anything, only exaggerates how small he is in comparison. “I’ve bought her meal, paid for her drink and I’m go-hic-gonna take her back to my place and fuck her”. He finishes his sentence in Butcher’s face. Whilst you see a flicker of fear cross Harry’s expression; Butcher’s look borders on hysterical. 

“Alright then big fella, I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen” he slams his hand down on Harry’s shoulder, his eyes now boring into his. “You’re gonna fuck off back to your shitty little home, grab some lube, cry and wank to ya heart’s content about your ex who is probably ridin’ some big fat fuckin’ dick right now-yeah?” Butcher nods as if Harry’s going to agree with him.

Your date goes to interrupt but Butcher presses a finger to his quaking lips before he can start, “what’s not gonna happen, my sad little mate, is that you’re going to fuck her. She’s hadta listen to your fuckin’ whinin’ about your ex all night whilst you’ve fuckin’ insulted this gorgeous woman. So, get out before I throw ya through the fuckin’ window”. Harry’s lost for words, he doesn’t make eye contact with you as you stand silently behind Butcher. You see tears brimming in his eyes as he smacks $20 on the bar top. 

“Fuckin’ old asshole” Harry spits as he shoves past the pair of you.

Butcher smirks at the remark, watching the door swing shut behind Harry before turning to you. “Right darlin’, whatcha havin’?” 

It’s the best date you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a real date. You finally got his full name. Billy Butcher. Your heart races just to say it. He’s from London but has been in the States for a while. He asks all about you and you surprisingly find you’ve got a lot in common. He’s funny, charming and really fucking exciting- you have to admit. By the third drink, the chat goes from conversational to more flirty. 

“The bartender said ‘this time’, do you do this a lot? Love saving a damsel in distress? Are you a hero, Billy Butcher?” you smirk at him and he returns it back to you. There’s lust in his eyes and you see him take your appearance in for what feels like the upteenth time since you sat down.

As he goes to speak, the bell rings for last orders and he takes your hand to help you off the bar stool. You down the remnants of your drink together and he puts his arm around you and escorts you out of the bar.

You don’t want it to end, he lights a cigarette and you thank any higher deity for the extra thinking seconds it gives you. He speaks before you get chance, “Will ya let me walk you home darlin’? Swear on my mum’s life I won’t try any funny business”. He holds his hand out like he’s making a scouts honour. Honestly, you do anything to spend a bit more time with him so you smile, link your arm with his and pull him down the quiet streets.

The air makes you feel drunker than you are. If you were sober, there is no way you’d be giggling like a school girl at everything this man is saying, yet here you are. Your arms are linked and you’re resting your head on his shoulders as you tell him about your horrific dating history. Everytime he laughs and accuses you of exaggerating you say, “Billy Butcher, I would never ever lie to you”. You say it because his name feels so fun sliding off your tongue. You barely see anyone on your walk home and the sound of your shared laughter fills the empty streets.

As you turn down your street, you wish you lived miles away so you could keep walking together for hours. Your stomach drops at the thought that you’ll never see him again. Which, you completely realise, is fucking stupid. This stranger threatened your date to leave but he also made you feel safe and laugh harder than you have in months. You pull his stride to a stop outside your house. It feels like some awful hallmark romcom or trashy romance novel.

You thank him for escorting you home and he turns down a nightcap in your house as “it’s not gentlemanly on the first date”. He shoots you a wicked grin again as he says, “my mum would be spinnin’ in her grave darlin’”.

You try not to let the heartbreak from that sentence show on your expression. “You’re a gentleman, Billy Butcher?”

“The best one around darlin’. I’ll prove it tomorrow when I take ya out for lunch”

A brief flare of anger hits you, “yeah, I hear that all the fucking time. The lunch never happens, I don’t see you again but then we bump into each other at the store and you apologise and say you’ll be in touch which, of course, you never will be”. You regret it as soon as you stop speaking.

Before you can apologise, he grabs a sharpie out of his coat pocket, takes your hand and scribbles down his number. “There, alright? You call me at any time gorgeous and I swear, I’ll fuckin’ answer and come runnin’”

His kiss to your cheek is soft yet restrained. “You’ll forget about me Billy Butcher, I know it”.

“S’not fuckin’ possible, darlin’”. He says goodnight and walks down your street. A plume of cigarette smoke trailing after him.

He keeps his word.

40 minutes later, and after one final glass of wine, you call him.

He answers on the first ring and says your name. He tells you where to meet tomorrow and what time to get there.

You hope he can always keep his promises.

[novelconcepts]

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

[baldursyourgate]

I jus think that she's neat......

[elysian-i]

Interesting Creatures

Summary: The reader doesn’t know that Ghost and Simon Riley are one person. He finds it rather funny.

Warnings: Probably has a thousand inaccuracies. Just fluff or crack i’m not sure. Medic!Reader. Age Gap. Reader is shorter than ghost. He’s down bad but doesn’t show it. Rushed, maybe bad writing.

a/n: actually haven’t written in like a year so 🤩 that’s that. this is very short.i also love that picture of addison.

NAVIGATION

“Just saying– man seems like an interesting creature” The voice seemed to be coming from nearly a foot below him, Simon looked downwards, tilting his head and could see only a small head covered by a black hood and light blue trousers on their legs.

“Anyways– this Simon Riley, I'll get to him in a while then” She says, nodding at the officer behind the desk and turning round on her heels. She only acknowledged Simon with a nod, not giving him another glance as so many others do, as though it was an everyday thing to see a man with a skull on his face.

He pauses for a moment, because she is quite– pretty. Lovely enough to make one stop whatever preoccupied them and just admire the sight presented in front. He looks away quickly– because good god, that not who he is, he doesn't go around gawking at women, but he wants to gawk this one as long as she would let him.

She squeezes past him and leaves the office. The man on the desk grins knowingly at Simon. “Why does she know my name?” He inquires. “Well she doesn’t actually does she? Ghost and Simon are separate to her.”

“Yeah I figured” he says huffing.

“I just needed a few signatures from you, she was gonna go and get them”

“Shouldn't you call ‘er back? I’m here, might as well get it over with” He's not sure what makes him say that. Whether it was logic and reason or whether it was the urge to see that scenery again.

“I’ll save her the heart attack– for now, you'll be back her at your desk by the time she comes to it. Let’s talk jus’ now” He smiles and Simon nods, taking a seat. Behind his mask he smirks faintly, thinking just how entertaining it could be, seeing her put together the puzzle as she’d enter his office. See the look of terror in her face, it was the one thing recruits were good at anyway.

—

There is a knock at his door, it’s small, hesitant. Then there's that voice again. “May I come in?” It asks.

Come all you want he thinks to himself. But he clears his throat and tells her to come inside. The door opens and she steps in with the same attire. But she stops right as she enters, looking at him. Eyes pinching, head turning back to look at the plate drilled on the door, then she looks back at him.

"No. Uhm- no- Lieutenant Riley?"

"Yes?" he answers back, grinning ear to ear under the mask. But he withdraws any playfulness from his voice. He sighs.

"You're at the right door, I do believe I am the interesting creature."

Her little face goes blank for a moment, looking away from him and straight and the wall, she doesn't move or breathe. He notes the scrunch of her nose. Then she looks at him and smiles ever so awkwardly. Her eyes crinkling with fear still. “I - did not- that was- what? That was a compliment”

He likes that and he’s not sure why, he likes that she is flustered and bothered. And that he’s the one teasing her, he’d never been one to indulge in these sort of habits but he thinks, just this once.

“S’that so?”

She’d gone red, ears and cheeks scarlet bright, he eyes her again for a moment. His eyes fall down to her- what were those- fucking crocs? With stickers on them?

He’s amused, so amused. He notices the way she hides them away. Pushing them behind each other.

“Well, what’cha want?”

“Ah. l– need you to sign a few forms.”Her voice so much smaller than before. But she steps towards his desk and hands them over. Her hand only reaching the ends of the boards as she grips it while his own almost covers it whole.

Simon looks them over, printing his signature on them in a neat scrawl. She doesn't even look at him, her sole focus on the walls and the floors and the windows.

“You new?”

“Hmm?” She raises her brows questioningly, as though brought back from another world and carelessly brushes aside the tufts covering her pretty eyes. Her hood is down and her hair is tied into a fussed up pony tail.

“Oh- yes fairly”

He gives her a nod and goes back to reading the document. She smelt nice, he thought. There were small ripples of fragrance coming off of her. Fresh and maybe a little floral. So unlike the usual smell of dirt and dust. It was like sitting next to an open window.

After several more minutes, she speaks. “I’m sorry– that I– called ya a creature. Wasn’t nice”

She seemed to be a bad conversationalist, more so than him even. Simon dismisses her words, he only asks, “Name?”

She says it, and Simon repeats it, feeling it dance off his tongue. Beautiful sounding name for a beautiful looking person and all that. “You're a medic then?” He questions, though there’s no need to, she held that Dr. in her name with pride.

“Yes sir”

He holds her gaze for a moment. Then gives her back the forms and such. And as she begins to leave, he wraps a finger round her wrist and feels her go frozen. “Don’t go around telling my name to people. Address me only as Ghost. Got that?”

Even through his glove, he could feel the smoothness of her skin. He feels a burn go through his stomach, her wrists would fit so easily in one palm, they’d melt in it. And he knows, that it’ll never be so. Because he’s him.

"Yes sir"

And he lets go.

—

(follow @spilled-inks to get notified or sumthing)

[ghostiiess]

my love mine all mine - a sim jake imagine.

synopsis: in which jake decided to dance with you in his apartment kitchen at 3am while playing mitski’s songs

warnings: petnames (baby, princess)

words count: 954

type: fluff

pairing: !non-idol jake from enhypen x female reader!

author’s note: i wrote this while listening to this song… enjoy the imagine!!

english’s not my mother tongue… sorry if i made any mistakes!

You were just finishing cleaning the kitchen table where you and your boyfriend had eaten earlier in the evening when a small gesture slowly touched your back.

A soft melody you knew so well, Mitski's "My Love Mine All Mine," played in the background, adding a quiet and romantic ambiance to your boyfriend's messy apartment.

- My love...? he said so softly you thought he was whispering.

He turned you around with his hands on your hips, then gave you one of his charming smiles... Then you saw him. His white shirt was two buttons unbuttoned and looked wrinkled. He had probably forgotten to iron it... His brown hair was combed and sprayed so that nothing was out of place. His arms adorned with bracelets and his fingers with silver rings that made you fall in love all over again every time he wore them. His neat black pants, accompanied by his most beautiful black shoes, with his white shirt tucked around the belt, matched him perfectly. If you didn’t know any better, you could easily have thought he was straight out of a Cinderella movie: Jake looked like a real prince..

- Jake?

He made a face at you. He hated it when you called him that… His hand moved, letting his fingers take your left hand before spinning you around like a princess in a romantic movie, then letting go as if he hadn't evacuated the butterflies in your stomach.

- Would you dance with me, princess?" he asked, offering you his left hand, the same one he'd used to spin you around.

At that nickname, you grinned even wider, placed your right hand in his left, and watched as he led you toward the kitchen.

Still holding your hand, he stepped back a little, then moved his right knee on his left side as if he was bowing like a prince. Waiting your turn, you did the same and then saw him smile even wider. His smile was bright, brilliant, warm.

As he twirled you a second time, you saw him take your hand and place it on his hip as he intertwined your hands. As the music continued to play, Jake did a little dance step, then stopped.

- I'll try not to step on your feet...

You laughed softly, then began to dance with him. Your steps, your gestures, your dances were as majestic as swans. You moved with such grace and delicacy that you'd think the piano notes of the song were dancing with you as well.

- Do you remember that song?" he asked, and you nodded without hesitation.

Of course you do. It was the song you and Jake met to. You were studying your physics in the study hall of your school when you saw Jake come into the classroom with a wide-eyed look on his face.

‘Uh, excuse me? Do you know where Miss Catherine is? I've been looking for her since earlier, but she's nowhere to be found...' was the first sentence he said to you, before you realized that you were also waiting for her to explain the exercises. Maybe it was luck, maybe the universe had organized things so that you'd meet, but Miss Catherine had never come to explain the theory to you: Jake had. Things went on, and history was made: a friendship that turned into a love affair that seemed new, but had just passed the two-year mark last month.

- You stayed so long to help me with the theory," you replied, continuing the dance. We stayed so long that we almost got kicked out…

Your boyfriend nodded, then laughed. He twirled you once more, then kissed the palm of your hand.

- You're so beautiful, Y/N. You dance like a princess..

You smiled.

- You're dressed so elegantly, Jakey. I’m in my joggings while you’re literally wearing a prince’s outfit!

He shook his head.

- What are you talking about? You’re dressed just fine! You’re so beautiful.. I love this look on you, it might be my favourite..

While finishing his sentence, his nose moved closer to yours, and then your lips touched, causing the world to stop.

- Your lips are so soft. And...

Before Jake could continue, you rested back your lips on his. His arms moved down your back before returning to his original spot: your hips.

Your noses touched, then you saw the sweet smile Sim Jake had on his gentle face.

- I'm glad we met. I never thought I'd say this, but you're the one who brightens my day when I'm sad and makes me feel the best.

Before you could speak, Jake placed his index finger over your mouth, then shook his head.

- Shh! Let me do the talking, baby.

When he cleared his throat, his hands took yours:

- I want to keep living and dancing with you until our heads turn white and our grandchildren look at us and says ‘even at their age, their love is still strong’.

You couldn't help smiling.

- If you only knew how much I love you Y/N.

- I love you too, baby.

He placed his lips on yours, then turned you around one last time.

- As the song goes.... My love, mine, all mine...

Then, as if magnetized, your lips finished the dance together as the last notes of the song echoed through the kitchen, leaving incredible memories in your heads. It wasn't your last dance, far from it: the next one would probably be at your wedding, with the same song playing in the background, leaving your two smiles as the only source of light.

[tobesolonely]

thank you for showing ceorry part 1 so much love!! I wanna give this series a name but I’m not very creative so if anyone has any ideas pls lmk 🫶🏾

harry is y/n’s boss, and he’s also a super rich ceo, and he thinks she’s so pretty :)

warnings: harry being super flirty and a nice kiss

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Mr. Styles?”

The low voices Y/N hears through the door abruptly stop. "Y/N, come in." Upon entering her boss's office, she sees Mitch, the accountant from yesterday, sitting at Harry's desk, charts and spreadsheets spread out. He looks proper annoyed by the intrusion, but Harry could not seem to care less. He looks at her intently while he waits for her to speak. 

“I’m ready to work,” Y/N lifts up her laptop and notebook and Harry’s eyes land on the items. “I really had a chance to get lots done this morning. I usually take Fridays to sleep in, but not today sir!”

“Ah, you’re ready to get started?” His desk is already cleared of documents to make room for her. “I’m glad you had a chance to really use it. It was useful, I’m hoping?”

Y/N nods quickly. “I did! It helped me actually knock out, like, half of my report.”

“That’s good to hear,” Harry’s positively beaming at her, and it makes Y/N flush. “I knew you could do it. You jus’ needed a little bit of help. Why don’t you come and sit? Mitch was just leaving.”

“We’re not done reviewing-”

“We are,” Harry picks up the now neat stack of papers and hands it to him. “Miss Y/L/N needs my help, so we’re done. We’ll pick back up another day.”

“But it’s all due by-”

“I said we’re done for today, Mr. Rowland.” The tone in his voice is final and stern and that familiar tingling sensation is back in the pit of her tummy. Mitch gives a dejected sigh and accepts the stack of papers from Harry, standing up from the desk in resignation.

“You know sir, it’s very hard for me to do my job correctly when you’re giving your assistant special treatment.” Mitch’s tone is sharp and Y/N can’t help but flinch.

“Perhaps if you did your job as well as Miss Y/L/N you’d get special treatment too. Now leave, please.” 

Mitch looks between Y/N and Harry before exiting the office, shutting the door a bit too harshly. If Harry’s bothered by the interaction that just went on, she can’t tell. He’s giving her a big dimpled grin as soon as they’re alone, telling her to sit at his desk and get comfortable.

“Or you can sit on the couch if you’d like?” he points to the big olive green suede sofa pushed up against the wall adjacent to his desk. “Between you and me, I’ve gotten some of the best sleep of m’life on that thing. It really is quite comfortable.”

If people were already beginning to think Y/N received special treatment from Mr. Styles, she’d hate for someone to enter his office and see her all cozied up on his couch. They’d probably think she never did any work at all! “The desk is fine, thank you, sir.”

“Okay then,” Harry clasps his hands together, placing them on top of his desk. “Are y’gonna let me take a look at what you put together?”

She suddenly remembers that she’s in Harry’s office for the sole purpose of him helping her. She sits down and opens up her laptop, shaking the mousepad to bring it to life. The first thing that pops up is the draft she’d been working on.

“It might not be great yet, but I think it’s a good start,” she plays with her hands in her lap while Harry squints at the screen in concentration. “I mean, it’s more than I had yesterday.”

Harry looks up and into Y/N’s eyes. “It is more than you had yesterday. That’s good. Let’s not worry about the quality of anything right now - which by the way, doesn’t seem like something you need to worry about. This is very good so far.”

Y/N’s eyes light up at her boss’s praise. “Do you really think so? That’s a relief, Mr. Styles. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You could’ve,” he answers simply. “Just needed a little help organizing your thoughts. Now, get to work. I don't wanna hear a peep out of you until at least two more paragraphs are written.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N isn’t sure how long she's been at Mr. Styles’ desk. 

He long ago retired from helping her, instead deciding to do some work of his own (and Y/N’s. She noticed him emailing to confirm the details of an upcoming event, and that's her job!) She almost feels bad, but when she realizes she’s nearly done with both her research paper and infographic, well…it cheers her up. Y/N thinks she deserves a little reward for this and allows her head to rest on her chin. She’d just take a quick little break, just close her eyes for a teeny tiny second, and then she’d get right back to it. Not ten seconds after she allows her eyes to flutter closed, Harry’s voice causes them to snap back open.

“Are y’tired? Wanna take a rest on the couch, sweet girl?”

Her heart starts beating twice as fast at the term of endearment her boss just called her, but she tries to keep her cool. “No thank you, sir. I was just restin’ my eyes for a second - I swear! I wasn’t actually gonna fall asleep.”

“Resting your eyes, you say?” Harry’s plush bottom lip is tucked between his teeth as he tries to suppress a grin. “I think that’s code for ‘sleeping’, hm?”

“Well I did go to bed pretty late last night…or at least I think I did.”

“What do you mean you think?”

“I woke up this morning with my laptop in my lap and all my papers still on my bed.” 

Harry furrows his brows. “You’ve gotta make sure you’re getting enough sleep, sweet girl. You’re just too pretty to not be well-rested.”

Y/N’s little crush on Harry is absolutely solidified at that moment. He just called her pretty! And so casually too, as if it was a known fact! “You think I’m pretty?” 

“Of course I do,” Harry pauses, smirking. “It’s why you get special treatment. Now, go rest for a little bit. I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep.”

Y/N gives her boss a weary look, choosing to ignore his comment. “Do you promise?”

“Sure,” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes, and something tells her there's a chance he's lying. “Go on, sweetheart.” 

Y/N complies, wordlessly standing up from his desk and walking across his office to the couch. Her body relaxed as she sank into the firm-but-soft couch. Harry wasn't kidding - his couch was comfortable. It was very nice, and it makes her think about how nice Harry is. He cares about her so much and she thinks it’s really cute and sweet. Plus, she couldn’t get the way he looked and sounded when he called her pretty! It makes her feel so mushy and giddy. With these gooey thoughts of her boss in her mind, Y/N allows her eyes to flutter shut. Besides, Harry promised he’d wake her up. It’d be fine!

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N wakes up hours later, covered up with a yellow fuzzy blanket and a tiny pillow under her head.

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she sits up, the once light-filled office now dark aside from the dimmed lamp in the corner beside Harry’s desk. He looks up from the book he’s reading and at her once he notices she’s awake, a grin overcoming his features.

“Good evening, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Hi,” she rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “What time is it?”

Harry lazily looks down at his Rolex and then back up at her. “A quarter til 6. Y’hungry?”

He let her sleep for nearly three hours? “Not really, sir.”

“Are you sure,” he raises a brow. “It must take a lot of energy to sit there and look that pretty. You’re sure you’re not hungry, sweetheart?”

Y/N can’t hide how flustered Harry’s shameless flirting makes her, and she’s sure he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. “I, sir-”

”Sirrrrrr,” Harry drags the last sound of the word out, imitating her. “Let me feed you dinner. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.”

“But Mr. Styles,” Y/N can’t help the way her lower lip juts out in a pout. “I haven’t actually done anything for you lately! Every day I’ve just been coming here and working on this stupid assignment while you do my job for me. I don’t even want to see what my paycheck will look like this time around!”

Harry gives her a genuine look of confusion. “What would be wrong with your paycheck?”

“There’s no way you’re going to pay me for coming in to do my homework, is there?”

“Of course I am,” Harry replies. He sounds almost offended that she’d think otherwise. “You’re still comin’ in and staying here all day, aren’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Then your paycheck will reflect that, sweet girl,” he tugs on his lower lip with his fingers, appearing deep in thought. “I don’t want you to worry about things like that.”

“I’m always gonna worry about things like that,” she stares owlishly at him. “I mean, at least until I’m a rich CEO like you.”

Harry lets out a little chuckle at this and gets up from behind his desk. He makes his way across the office towards Y/N and stops when he’s right in front of her. She’s still sitting, so he kneels down so he’s face-to-face with her. He doesn’t seem to mind getting dust bunnies on his Gucci trousers at all.

“You’re right. That was a silly request,” he cocks his head slightly to the side, not breaking eye contact. “But please rest assured I will never be the reason you worry about money. Understood?” Y/N nods her head in response, but Harry shakes his head.

“I want to hear you tell me you understand. Tell me.”

“I understand.”

“Hm,” Harry splays his palm out on her knee causing a shiver to run down her spine. “You understand who?”

Oh. Y/N knew what he wanted. “I understand, sir.”

While she’s addressed Harry by the title many, many times she can’t deny how differently it slips off her tongue this time. She nearly doesn’t recognize the sound of her own voice saying the word, her tone subconsciously taking on a sultry and smooth nature. As quickly as Harry kneels before her he stands up, a pleased look on his face.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now, I don’t know about you but I’m starving and quite honestly want to get the hell out of this office. Do you have any dinner plans?”

“No, but I was going to study.”

Harry’s already walking back towards his desk to shut off his devices, mind already made up that he was leaving work one way or another. “While I usually am a big proponent of studying, ‘specially when it comes to you,” he slams his briefcase shut and she hears the latches snap. “I’m an even bigger proponent of taking care of yourself physically so you have the power to excel mentally. How does Italian sound?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N’s sitting across from Harry in a dimly lit booth not forty minutes later, the smell of garlic bread and marinara sauce overwhelming her nostrils. If she wasn’t so fixated on her food (turns out she was starving, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Harry) she might've noticed that he's hardly touched his own food. He was too focused on admiring her, and how cute basically everything she did was. When she does finally look up, the expression on her face goes from one of delight and contentment to confusion and concern.

“Why aren't you eating your food, sir? Is something wrong with it?”

Harry audibly coos at Y/N’s concern. “Nothing like that. I’ve had this dish several times actually,” he stabs his fork into a cherry tomato. It bursts next to a well-seasoned piece of chicken breast. “I just think you’re so pretty. It’s a little distracting, sweetheart.”

“Why do you keep saying things you know will make me feel all shy?” Y/N presses, taking a quick glance at her hands in her lap. “I’m terrible at accepting compliments!”

He frowns at this. “Can’t imagine why. You deserve all the compliments in the world and then some, I think.”

Y/N’s skin is on fire and she’s not sure how to respond to Harry so she doesn’t, instead she goes back to eating her plate of chicken parmesan and gushing over how flavorful the sauce is. Still, his food remains in front of him hardly untouched and his gaze remains on her.

“You know I can feel you staring at me from across the table,” Y/N says after a brief moment of silence. “Even though I’m looking down, Mr. Styles.”

“I’m not trying to hide the fact that I am. Why don’t you call me ‘Harry’ when we’re outside of work? Mr. Styles makes me sound old.”

Y/N sets her fork down and then looks back up at him, her head cocked curiously to the side. “I think Mitch was right when he said you gave me special treatment.”

Harry has an amused look on his face as he hums in acknowledgment, deciding to humor her. “What makes you think that?”

“I want to base it on just these past few shifts alone, but it’s more than that,” Y/N replies thoughtfully. “You literally let me come into work whenever I want. What type of boss does that?”

Harry can’t hide the delight on his face any longer. “You don’t think I offer my other employees flexibility? You’re not the only one that has a life, Y/N.”

“Okay yeah,” she raises an eyebrow. “But you still pay me for my entire shift even when I only go in for like, three hours.”

“I’m fair, if nothing else.”

“Sometimes when I come in I don’t even do work. We just talk.”

“I can find more work for you to do, if you’d like.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at her boss. “I just don’t know what I did to deserve this treatment. This ‘special treatment’.”

Harry takes a sip of his own water before he looks in close to the center of the table, beckoning Y/N toward him. “Can I tell you a little secret?”

Y/N’s so close to him that she can see the different colored specks within his irises, even in the dim lighting of the Italian restaurant. Not trusting her voice to not betray her, she simply nods.

“You get special treatment because I like you. A lot. I thought it was obvious.” He leans back in his chair after revealing his secret and begins eating his food again like nothing happened. Like he didn’t just drop a bombshell on Y/N.

“Really?” Y/N like how quiet and unsure her voice is, but Harry has her brain feeling like mush and she can hardly think straight. “I think you’re so cute, sir, and so kind-”

“Awww,” Harry repeats, tone mocking. “You think I’m cute, sweet girl?”

“Yes, sir, sooo-”

“Harry outside of work, yes?” 

“Sorry Harry, I forgot.” Y/N can’t help the flush that floods her body at the act of calling Mr. Styles ‘Harry’ to his face, but he said it was okay!

If Y/N didn’t know better she would say a small blush crept over the apples of Harry’s cheeks after she addressed him by his first name, but she decided not to dwell on it. He looks at her nearly completed entree and his own, hardly touched. He looks around for the waiter and wordlessly flags him down, mouthing for the check.

“I think you’re cute, too,” Harry finally says as they’re waiting for their waiter to come with the bill. “Cute might be an understatement actually.”

Y/N’s noticed that Harry’s already started to develop this pesky habit of saying things for the sole purpose of flustering her (or so it seems) and she opens her mouth to respond but then closes it, unsure of what to say. Harry chuckles and pulls out his wallet just as the waiter comes back with the bill. He looks down at Harry’s nearly untouched plate of food and a look of worry fills his face.

“Was the food not to your liking this evening, Mr. Styles? Will you be needing to speak with the chef?”

Harry shakes his head quickly, and a stray curl falls down over his left eye. “Everything was perfect as always. Jus’ a little distracted, makes it hard to eat.” He quickly looks up and across the table as he’s signing his signature on the receipt but Y/N pretends not to see. 

“I’m glad to hear it. Will you be needing change or a to-go box, sir?”

“Nope. We’re all set?” the waiter nods, to which Harry flashes him a big smile. “Perfect. See you next week, sir.”

The waiter nods his head at Harry, then at Y/N before turning to leave. Harry stands up and pushes his chair in, quickly moving to the other side of the table to pull Y/N’s out for her. He grabs her coat off the back of her chair and holds it up for her to slip her arms into. 

“Thank you, Mr - Harry,” she plays with the sleeves of her coat once comfortably on her body. “This was really good.”

“The least I can do is keep you fed when you’re such a good little worker, hmm?”

Y/N gives him a bashful look before giving a small nod of agreement, playing along with Harry. He holds his left hand out at his side and Y/N only hesitates briefly before reaching down to grab it, allowing him to lead her out of the restaurant.

Harry doesn’t drop her hand even when they’re out of the restaurant, even when they walk across the parking lot to their cars parked next to each other. He doesn’t let go of her hand when he tells her what a good time he had at dinner. He doesn’t let go of her hand when he reminds her to work hard on her project over the weekend (but not too hard).

He definitely doesn’t let go of her hand when he leans down and gently presses their lips together, smiling into the kiss.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

I hope you enjoyed part 2!!! please let me know what you think!

[atopfourthwall]

How would you rank the Ju-On/Grudge movies?

I'm not really a list guy, but quick thoughts on each: Ju-On: The Curse 1/2: It's one movie split in half, though admittedly points to the Curse 2 feeling different than the first by being more a possession movie than the normal format of a Grudge movie. It's clearly just the skeleton of the much better Grudge movies to come, with a few ideas like the multiple Kayakos that would have been fun if done with modern tech and... you know... a POINT but otherwise completely skippable unless you're curious how the franchise started. Ju-On: The Grudge: I know I've watched it, but for some reason I'm struggling to remember my thoughts on it. Not helped by me mixing it up with the remake, directed by the same guy who made this one (he's made the same movie so many times, it's incredible). Ju-On: The Grudge 2: As a sequel to Ju-On: The Grudge it works great, but it is a mess of half-baked ideas and a combination of interesting kills and outright goofy kills like the wig. Kayako wanting to be reborn is fine, but there's a lot of nonsense involved in it and she's still evil after being reborn for some reason. The Grudge: Good remake with some silliness in there and how I originally got into the franchise. The Grudge 2: Garbage. A few good kill ideas and moments (I like the subversion of the classic under-the-covers kill), but it gives an explanation for Kayako's ghostness that's completely unnecessary, Kayako plays dirty pool at a few points, the main character is a plank of wood, but it does have one good line from Kayako's mom that sums up the big issue people don't get when it comes to how they think they can end the curse: "This is NOT about a house!" The Grudge 3: Underrated! I do hate how they abandoned the nonlinear storytelling that's a staple of the series, but the visuals are pretty damn good, the story is fairly solid, and overall just a decent ghost story. Not great, but better than you'd think for a direct-to-video sequel. Ju-On: Black Ghost: Never rises above "okay." There's certainly something there with its premise, but it just feels like a big ol' pile of nothing, especially with an ending where a possessed girl just goes home and punches someone hard enough in the gut to kill them. Ju-On: White Ghost: Your mileage may vary on spooky grandma ghost in her silly Halloween mask carrying around a basketball. It's better than Black Ghost, but has so much silliness in it and there's no reason why either ghost should have Kayako's death rattle since neither was strangled. Ju-On: Beginning of the End: Great movie! A reboot of the series and focuses more on Toshio than Kayako and it works, with some neat twists and good scares. Ju-On: The Final Curse: Running on the much better fumes of Beginning of the End, just felt like a disappointing finale to the franchise, though points for them bulldozing the Saeki house (though as Kayako's mom put it - "this is not about a house!") and the first time in the franchise that two active, conscious people are attacked by Kayako at once (other times with another person they're usually catatonic). The Grudge 2020: Ugggghhhhh, whyyyyyyyyyy. The replacement ghosts are so boring and if you're not going to do anything with Kayako, why even connect it to the series that way? Has a few good moments plus the awesomeness of William Sadler, but it's not nearly enough to save this movie. Sadako vs. Kayako: Underrated! The title fight is too damn short and definitely more of a Ring movie than a Grudge movie, but the Grudge stuff delivers. It is also the only movie in the entire franchise where someone tries to actually do stuff to the ghosts. Like, nobody has ever tried kicking or punching the ghosts (yeah, I know it wouldn't DO anything, but still, everyone's always frozen in terror or running) and here comes our psychic duo to huck a rock and Toshio and for Sadako to actually attack and harm Kayako.

[shoezuki]

Theresbeen many a drunk headcanon and they be fun and funky but it got me thinking bout clumsiness outside of bein drunk.

Gepard seems very sure-footed. He's the captain of the guard, always leading, never showing hesitation lest it brings nerves upon his troops. I don't think he's some sorta balance god but I do think he's a steady guy that isn't really bumping into anything.

Sampo gives off cat vibes to me, I can imagine him scuttling up a wall jus to tiptoe across its top as if it was nothing. He's doin lil hops and skips just to show off a little. Whilst Geppie is strong in his stance and motion, Sampo is graceful but not really in a delicate way? He's got the smugness of a cat but his grace is more akin to an elk. It's got weight behind it but you can tell he's not fallin anytime soon.

But I like to think he's extremely used to having everything mapped out. He has places for everything and whilst it doesn't at all look neat, he knows exactly where everything is.

His coffee table is always crooked but he simply bends out of the way as he walks past, head in a stack of documents. There's stuff all over the floor but he's tiptoeing between them without hesitation. He has cabinets full of anything and everything, look in them and god knows what his file sorting system is but you ask for something specific and he makes a beeline for the bottom left drawer, stuffs his hand to the back and pulls it out instantly.

With Gep, he's also orderly. He knows where everything is but because it's neat. Even his pens are organised by colour and use. He's not a neat-freak, he's just grown up to always put things back where he found it when he's done and having shared sleepin spaces for so long with fellow soldiers, knows that keeping everything in its place makes things less stressful.

He knows better than to mess with Sampo's files or move any of his 'work' stuff but he's defo moving tidbits off the floor and pushing furniture back against the wall. Like, why is the sofa in the middle of the room??? How does someone do that in the first place???

So now Sampo, as aware and confident as he is, is now tripping over everything. He's knocked his shin on the coffee table 3 times in one day. He's stubbed his toe on the sofa and fully fallen to the ground, he's gone to grab something off the floor (where it usually is) only to realise it's no longer there and just stand in the middle of the room, looking lost, staring into space for 5 minutes.

He feels like he's been invaded. Never had to shrug off Natasha's questioning so often when she comments on a new bruise or scrape. He's not even getting them on the field!!!! That stool was perfectly fine in front of the cupboard. That's where he liked it.

But like hell is he gonna tell Gepard that. He's tried to some extent but it's only led to long circle talk. After all, it's unsurprisingly hard to explain that you like your furniture layout to look like someone's lost a fight in your home and having things not in the way is mildly disturbing.

This was meant to be about clumsiness. They're gettin away from me again XD

~ 🥃

YesyesyesYES SBGDV god they both have like. Theyre own sense of order. Like gepard's is the most blatant. Hes got a Schedule ok he has an order to how he does things and when he does things and where stuff goes.

But sampo seems Chaotic. Like his things seem to be a mess and all disjointed and over the place but To Him he has like. A System. He has no fucking clue what that system is and can Not explain it whatsoever but hes got it. Sure its a mess and no one knows how he can possible operate like this and especially concerning his bomb making its crazy he hasnt blown himself up yet but it Works.

Them living together is Hilarious cuz if this. Like gepard needs things where theyre 'supposed' to be, while sampo shifts his things n environment according to Him. Mfers in a silent war cuz they keep moving shit back to where They think its sposed to be. Like sampo keeps shifting the coffee table to the left and at a bit of an angle so that he can rest his feet on it from the sofa but gep keeps moving it back cuz its Supposed To Be Exactly 2 feet from the sofa and Right in the middle of the fucking rug, sampo. Every late night sampo moves the dishes around seemingly randomly so that his favourite bowls and mugs are easily reachable while he cooks and every morning gepard gets up and reorganizes the cupboards by size and type of dish while he makes coffee.

Theyre engaging in domestic psychological warfare

[robinbuckleysgfreall]

Ajax petropolus nsfw alphabet

Warnings: title says it all

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ajax is an aftercare king, he loves to spoon after sex. He’s a bit lazy though he will have you lay there for like 15 minutes after catching your breathe still cockwarming him. Once he gets the energy to move he will clean you up and help you use the bathroom and then cuddle you in bed. (Or go for a second round in the shower)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ajax really loves his jawline and his torso. He’s not by any means buff but he likes his lean slender build, his camera roll consists of shirtless pictures he’s taken in the mirror but is too shy to send you at first (soon they take up your camera roll too) he gets flustered when you tell him you think he has a “slutty waist” but loves the compliment all the same.

On your his favorite body part is definelty tits. In a sexual and non sexual way. He loves how they sit prettily under your shirts and resists the urge to just hold them, the heaviness of them in his hands he loves. If you have nipple piercings he’s obsessed, keeps asking you when they will be fully healed so he can play with them. He loves watching them bounce up and down when you ride him and when he’s feeling subby he loves to suck on them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s not too fussy unless he’s really tired than he prefers in your mouth so less time to clean up. Otherwise he loves seeing you covered in his cum and watching his cum spill out of your pussy when he’s emptied his load into you. If your into anal stuff he loves cunning in and on your ass

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

He masturbates to your Instagram and tiktok posts. When you catch him you find it cute and send him special pictures jus for him to cum all over 🥹

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

With kissing he’s quite experienced, he’s made out with lots of people mostly on dared before you started dating (enid before she came out as lesbian and started dating Wednesday, Xavier at one point for “practise” and most of the Nightshade club tbf. He’s loyal when I’m a relationship though. When it comes to sex he’s inexperienced. He mostly picks up tips from his favorite twitter accounts and he has a pretty skilled mouth anyways so his head game is good. Most of it you figure out together and he becomes an expert and pleasing you.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

When you first start having sex he’s always worried that he might stone you so it’s a lot of soggy style for a while but once he gets more confident he loves when you ride him or plain old missionary so he can see your face and the way it contorts with pleasure when he makes you cum. His favourite place on watch though it between your thighs.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s the funniest in the room everywhere else but when it comes to sex intimacy is very important to him. He’s a passionate guy, he’s not opposed to the occasional joke though.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s not perfectly smoothe because he doesn’t like the way it looks but he trims it. When he was younger he was scared if he didn’t he would grow snake pubes. After finding out to his relief that that’s not possible, he decides to just keep it neat anyways.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like i mentioned before intamacy is very important to him, he loves being slow and sensual making sure you feel every part of one another, he can be rough if you want him to but most of the time he prefers when you are in control

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ajax jerk’s off atleast once a day. He does it mostly before bed because it helps him fall asleep better but if your spending the night than you usually help him. In the mornings he likes shower so he’ll usually get one in then too. When he’s crushing on you he finds himself doing it all the time. Every move you make turns him on a mix of want and frustration with himself for not being able to talk to you due to his shyness make him most horny.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ajax is defo into somnophilia, he’s nervous to tell you at first but once he does you are so into it. Only with your consent of course but he loves the idea of waking up with your lips wrapped round his cock or waking you up by sucking in your slit. He’s also into slapping s little bit, nothing too mean but he loves the idea of spanking your ass or slapping his cock across your face as you beg to suck him off. He’s also into anal stuff but imma put more about that in wild card.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

As he likes sex to be quite intimate his favorite place is his dorm. He likes your dorm too but since he’s a gorgon he has a dorm to himself which means more privacy and able to be as loud as he wants. If he fancies a quicky he’ll probably do it in an empty classroom or the nightshade library, one time he has you suck him off behind a statue in an empty corridor, he loves the thrill of potentially getting caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Ajax gets turned on very easily. You forget to put on a bra and he can see your nipples poking through the thin layer of your school shirt? Hard. Your eating ice cream in the canteen and wipe or lick some off your lips? Hard as rock. You wrap your arms around his waist a bit too low? He’s dragging to the nearest school toilets.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that could hurt you really bad like knife of blood kink stuff. He’s already scared enough that he would stone you he couldn’t bare to hurt you in any other way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys giving a lot like he loves pleasuring you but this man loves receiving. Especially when he’s exhausted after a tiring day or stoned he just loves the feeling of your mouth on his cock and fucking your throat until he empties his balls onto your awaiting tongue. He loves the sight of you swallowing it after makes him almost pop another boner.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely slow and sensual. But if your having a quicky or you request him to speed up he will, anything to please his lover.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes. We’ve spoken about this

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s only down if your down. He would never want to do anything your not 100% into. That being said if your into it he’s willing to try all kinds of new stuff.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Between 2-5 rounds, he might need a minute to reboot but down worry he’ll have you sit on his face until he’s ready for you to sit on his cock again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any himself but after finding your vibrator he’s very curious to see how it works and even asks you to use it on him. He loves it and dildos too he finds them hilarious and strangely arousing himself he loves watching you get off using them. For Christmas one em year you gift him a flashlight and some sexy Polaroids and he uses those anytime he can’t get a hold of you for whatever reason

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a huge tease. At first he’s oblivious to the effect he has on you, placing what he thinks is a comforting hand rubbing on your thigh (leaving you wet in your panties) or kissing your neck when he hugs you. Whispering in your ear in class. Innocently showing you the new rings he bought and how they adorn long fingers. Once he finally catches on to your reactions he makes sure to tease you even more often just to get a kick out of watching you squirm for him

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a whiner especially when you tease him. He also swears a lot on bed a lot of “oh shit you feel so good” and lots of loud praise “fuck i love your pussy baby” having a dorm all to himself allows him to fully take advantage and let you hear exactly how much you please him

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He wants you to do anal stuff on him. Every time he watches the way your fingers slide in and out of your pussy he wonders what it would feel like to have them in his hole. He’s watched interesting videos on twitter and has tried it himself but he really wants you to do it. He dreams of having your fingers in him whilst you suck him off. He’s also very much into the idea of rimming and not opposed to pegging either. He just wants to be used by you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s defo a grower not a show-er. A good 6 inches maybe 7 on a good day. It’s got a slight curve to it so it can hit all the good parts inside you and quite veiny. The tip is pink but bright red when he’s hard and leaky for you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Once you start staying the night in his dorm he likes to have you every night unless your not feeling it. Mornings are for giving head (and between classes) and nights are for passionate sex. Can last up to 4 hours if your lucky

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep very quickly after if you don’t force him to get up and clean up. But he has to be cuddling you. You will probably fall asleep kissing as he likes a good after sex make out session

[wakacreations]

Author's Note:

My contribution to the Doni fandom. Thanks to @falcatamandarina for inspiring the piece.

Doni: I Will See You Again Soon!

Word Count: 1703

Summary:

Doni writes a letter to his father recapping of all that has happened to him so far.

Dad,

It's been awhile since I wrote to you. A lot has happened in just a short amount of time but I just wanted to let you know I'm safe and sound. I made it to Baldur’s Gate just like we promised to each other. The other tieflings from Elturel took me in as a part of their family. You know how I wished for a big brother or sister? I got both! 

There is Rolan who is a famous wizard. Can you believe a tiefling could own a big tower? There is Lia who is the head of a team of flaming fists. She could beat all the fists in an archery match! I once saw her run after a thief on the roof tops and caught them midair. There is Cal who runs a fun orphanage. Everytime I visit the other kids he's planning a secret surprise. Last time the secret surprise was fireworks from Rolan’s tower and we got to eat some yummy food Cal made.

Alfira has been helping me learn how to sing again. I know how much you loved watching and hearing me sing back in Elturel. It's been hard because sometimes my voice doesn't want to come out when I want it to. Lakrissa has been cheering for me everytime during practice. I feel shy sometimes when she does it because I don't feel like I'm doing a good job. I know I can sing really good like you've told me. I just don't sing as good as I used to now. Alfira believes I'm still a good singer but it just takes time to sing like before. She said that I'm a better singer than Lakrissa. She once summoned a pack of worgs to come using her voice alone. I believed her because when Lakrissa started singing we heard howling in the distance. Our lessons had to end early that day. I got to eat some nice cinnamon rolls that Lakrissa paid for. 

Sometimes I visited Dammon’s forge even when I'm not supposed to. He said that I should send him a letter first so he can finish his work early. I try to write to him ahead of time but I would forget. He would be too busy to talk but I liked watching him work on the forge. Mama K would take me on an outing if that was the case. I would help her with the groceries and we would go around visiting the new shops that just opened. I helped her pick out a new shirt for Dammon to wear. Mama K said he can always use some more. It'll eventually become a rag with how many shirts he goes through, she joked. Dammon has a lot of neat projects he's working on. A customer requested to make them a giant warhammer! The hammer was bigger than I was! Dammon, let me wrap the handle with leather. He gave me a lollipop for a job well done. He asked me if I would like to work at the desk while he worked on the forge. I told him I would love to but only when I visit. 

So, Dad when you come to Baldur’s Gate I can treat you to a meal. I have two jobs that pay well. I work at Dammon’s and Rolan’s shops. Don't worry, they said I can stop working for the day when I get tired. I can come into work whenever I want to. I can go restock the shelves or work the desk for the day, it was up to me. You don't have to worry about me spending my earned money on you. Zevlor gives me an allowance and extra pocket money to spend on myself. I sometimes use that money to give him flowers. The Commander would always smile when I handed them to him. It's nice to see him smile because he used to not smile often but I think that's changing now. Tilses said Zevlor’s been making more friends and opening up to people. Hearing that makes me happy. I sometimes worry that he would be lonely in his garden.

He has a big garden with flowers, vegetables and fruit trees. Zevlor even has those fancy hedges that look like little animals. He asked me what animal he should make. I watched him make a cute bunny. They were called “topiary artwork” , he said. Sometimes we would have a picnic in the garden for just the two of us. Other times, which is most of the time, Cal would bring the kids over to have lunch there. 

Zevlor was the host for the outdoor parties whenever there was a celebration for a tiefling from Elturel. The last party was for Lia's promotion. Everyone was so happy it was nice. Even grumpy Rolan smiled. When I went inside to use the toilet, I heard Rolan crying alone. He said he was so proud of his sister and something about the suffering he endured was worth it. I didn't know what he meant by that. I did give him a hug after I found him again. He asked me why I was hugging him. I kept on hugging him. He didn't push me away but hugged back tighter. When he let go, I walked off. Lia noticed the hug and made a comment about if he was crying. Rolan said it was his allergies. His sister said that my hugs were tear worthy and wished that I would hug her too. I gave her the biggest of hugs and then everyone wanted a hug too.

Dad, I'm not as lonely as I used to be back in Elturel. I've been making more friends. Today, I got to play with Arabella, Umi and Xan. Arabella showed me the new powers she got from studying the weave. She said she wanted to be peepaw Wither's apprentice but he kept telling her no. So, Rolan and Gale became her wizard teachers instead. Gale told her she could enroll at Blackstaff Academy and he would put in a good word in for her should she accept. 

Arabella said she didn't want to be far away from everyone again. "Who knows how rude those kids would be there anyways”, she told us. So, she is staying in Baldur’s Gate. Rolan and Gale had set up a portal that connects the two towers just for her lessons. They tried using a scrying eyes for their shared lessons but creating the portals was a better solution. They showed her the new set up for her lessons. The scrying eye would accidentally broadcast whatever the other was doing, Rolan explains to her why the sudden change. Arabella said she saw Rolan and Gale shiver but he didn't explain what they had seen through the eye. 

Umi and Xan described what it was like to live at Wyrm's Rock Fortress with the Duke and Wyll. Umi said it was strange having so many people waiting for you to say something. You had servants that would bring you everything you needed. He felt bad asking them for anything. Umi didn't want to be a bother to them. Wyll said the staff liked him and always mentioned how adorable he was. Umi was happy he didn't need to learn how to wield a sword anymore. He got to learn how to ballroom dance instead. Wyll said the next best thing to dancing in battle would be dancing on the dance floor. Umi said I could join in their dance lessons with Wyll.

Xan explained how Sa'Varsh Lae'zel (his mother) was away on her campaign to tackle the crèche strongholds that still pledged allegiance to Vlaakith. His Sa'Varsh insisted he was to stay at the fortress till she summoned for him. In the meantime he should diligently complete his combat training and learn all he could about Faerun. He enjoyed speaking with the guards that patrolled the fortress. Seeing all the nobles that entered the premises bewildered him. All the flashy jewelry, layered furs and silks looked cumbersome to move. Xan made a face when he mentioned all the perfumes that assaulted his lungs that made him cough and the smells that made his nose hurt from sneezing. As part of his training Xan had insisted to Varsh Wyll he would join in their ballroom dancing lessons. He showed us the steps had learned with Umi from his training.

We spent the whole day playing at the park. We played hide and seek. Arabella and Xan were too good at it. Next game we played was Simon says. Xan was too good at that game. So, we decided to prank him. He got embarrassed when we asked him to say "Faerun" during the game. He wasn't too mad at us for embarrassing him since it was a part of the game. We asked him if there were any githyanki words for friends. He told us it was k’chakhi ra’stil (Wyll later told us that meant idiot ally or dumb friend). There was a patch of grass that had a lot of dandelions. Arabella said we should make flower crowns but she didn't know how. Umi shyly told us he knew how and taught us how to make them. I made you a picture to show you what it looked like.

I think I would train to be bard again, Dad. I missed singing so much. Who knows, maybe you'll be in the audience once again. I don't know if I will only become a bard. I'm still unsure if I want to learn how to be a ranger or a cleric. I'll one day travel around again to find you wherever you are Dad when I'm all grown up like you. I want to let you know I am happy with the life I live now but my life doesn't feel complete without you. I miss you dad. So, write to me when you have the time. I hope you've been receiving my letters even if you can't write to me back. I'll continue to write to you till I'm old and grey. 

I'll write to you again soon! I love you dad. 

-Doni

[crystallizsch]

hi ian i come bearing angst fuel for the yuusha as twsted elsa (maybe an idea for her possible overblot idk she kinda reads to me as someone whod preemptively isolate in the case she feels...blotty)

(also seeing that art of her playing violin totally didnt fuck me up im still nursing my bruised heart 🥴🥴💕💕)

https://youtu.be/NDldNaEZTt8?si=Wm71pgTltuJLjFvk

^^this is from the frozen musical where they gave a song to elsa to explore her emotional turmoil and it just fleshed out her character so much more than the orig movie (ok i havent seen frozen 2 oops) but just this section here:

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive?

Was I a monster from the start?

How did I end up with this frozen heart?

Bringing destruction to the stage

Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

anyways lmao i jus think the song is neat i think yuushas neat (i wanna see more of her ahehehe i love seeing infodumps abt ur yuus)

-diodellet

(throwback to this “what if yuu had magic” ask where i had a ✨realization✨ and this more recent yuusha lore drop that i gave zero elaboration on 🙃)

very rough ob yuu design??? idk i came up with it on the spot ;;; and it’s kinda based on disney’s concept art of elsa when she was supposed to be the villain.

evil ice queen vibes :3

also i know the ob monster is supposed to be based on the villain— which is elsa in this case— but lowkey. an ice monster is way cooler.

also also i just realized after i drew this i couldve done a grim/yuu tandem overblot ough 🤧🤧 (next time I'll do that instead if i ever go back to this concept)

(read more below because it got SO long)

AAH anyways hi hi dio!!! when i saw your ask i went —

— with this entire post

AAGH HOW MANY MORE UNINTENTIONAL CONNECTIONS ARE GOING TO BE BETWEEN FROZEN AND YUUSHA

i guess watching the movie everyday when it came out when you’re like 9 does something to your brain chemistry (and still haunts you at least a decade later) 💀

but anyways the angst ;;; overblot yuu ;;;;; my brain is rotting and the worms have taken over

also i didn’t even know that there was a frozen broadway musical so im gonna have to check it out later 🏃💨💨💨

(also dont worry frozen 2 is a nice watch for the most part but the way they concluded the characters did not feel 100% satisfying to me 😭 BUT i love some of the songs tho ;;; kristoff’s goofy 80s ballad song is one of them specifically, i need everyone to listen to it)

hfgnnfhfgv anyways thank you so much i’m chugging that angst fuel as i expand more on a possible ob yuusha with another infodump 💪💪💪

⚠️⚠️⚠️ ALSO IM SORRY BUT mentions of taking one’s own life so please proceed with caution ⚠️⚠️⚠️

i had to reread what my initial thoughts about it bc it was months ago??? and after rereading im just like, huh what was i on— (just that feeling when you just cringe at your old posts ;; but idk i think the insanity/cringe sometimes can loop back into being a genius and the cycle just continues)

anyways i’ve been on and off writing yuusha’s bio and overblot yuu was just at the back of my mind chilling but i didn’t really do anything with it.

but now that i have the opportunity,,,, im gonna go on the magicless route this time bc i feel like I've said all what i thought if it was an overblot due to her own magic.

so uh from what i gather overblots are a mix of overuse of magic + intense negative emotion.

since it’s magicless yuu, i guess the one of the general headcanons around the fandom is that they’ve been too exposed to overblots and then intense negative emotions suddenly just triggered their overblot.

uh anyways onto the elsa parts

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive? Was I a monster from the start? How did I end up with this frozen heart? Bringing destruction to the stage Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

THE LYRICS ARE SO GOOD ;;; i really love how some broadway interpretations expand on the source material

and yeah you're right 🤧🤧🤧— yuusha would try to hide and escape, especially as she overblots bc she would try to avoid hurting people (and like elsa, it'd only hurt others more trying to escape bc of probably how she leaves destruction in her wake trying to make others stay away from her 😔)

(this is a small tangent but i remember thinking about an overblot kalim and i imagine him to be similar, like he would not hurt anyone intentionally in his overblot.)

anyways so the way it would go is that i imagine her friends got fatally injured either because a) she feels that she’s too “useless” without magic to help and wasn’t able to do anything OR b) her attempts at helping to try and prove that she can help without magic made everything worse.

and then she just goes into a guilty spiral then boom — overblot.

ALSO in the song, the way elsa briefly contemplated taking her own life but then realizing there’s no guarantee that would solve anything hnghgh (<- another unintentional parallel to my yuusha lore because that’s actually how she ended up in twst except she did NOT have the latter realization)

there’s this “yuu is dead” theory i’m just using and that the black carriage actually just caught yuusha’s soul after she took her own life from all the burden.

also some bonus angst context for that violin post :3

yuusha back in her homeworld is raised and known to be a gifted musician. people can feel the life and soul in her music but when people interact with her, they are usually met with an ice-cold (heh) personality.

the dead family member was the one who taught her music and the only one who was kind to her.

there’s always an expectation from her family to perform well and to keep up appearances as to not be a humiliation since anything she does can reflect on her entire family. (also hi, slight yuusha/jamil parallels maybe???)

the way she presents herself also stemmed from an incident as a child when she went apeshit on another kid bc she was defending a friend.

so from then on she was taught taught to conceal don’t feel those emotions — which just unfortunately extended to any positive ones, not just negative ones like rage.

so when she is brought to twst, there’s no memory of her being forced to hold back her emotions so she’s just unapologetically affectionate and open with everyone bc that’s how she really is.

but every now and then, memories of her breaking down haunt her in her dreams or as subtle reminders in the waking world.

then yuusha just goes on her day like she just wasn't reminded of her past.

(unnecessarily tragic lore my beloved, but anyway—)

another extremely brief tangent and bonus -> the two songs i had on loop while drawing pre-twst yuusha

lindsey stirling my beloved i love her music

the songs are such a vibe

her instrumentals in “lose you now” especially makes me feel some sort of way 😖