#i procrastinated work longer than anticipated

[the-travelling-witch]

finished the 2.1 trailblaze mission… now if you excuse me, i’ll go lie down to cope

[notanotherinfjblog]

Productivity

ENTJ: Do you know those moments when you’ve got so much to do that you have no idea where to even start and so you start making a list of things that are too unimportant to waste your time on right now? But at the same time you’re wasting time by not working on the things that actually are important. You’re just making lists of all the tiny aspects of your work that you can throw out just to make yourself feel like you’re doing something.

INFJ: No, I don’t know those moments. I’m less productive, you see. When I’m overwhelmed by all the stuff I have to do, I panic and stare at the wall for three hours.

ENTJ: You’ve been doing that a lot lately, haven’t you?

INFJ: ... yes.

[osaemu]

ミ★ quick learner 🜸

pairing: student! gojo x reader

summary: to you, chemistry means two things – the worst subject on earth and the best feeling ever. satoru somehow teaches you both.

word count: ~2.0k

notes: suggestive. modern au. mentions of organic chemistry. making out. guest appearance by geto. gojo calls you 'smart girl' at one point. rushed. barely proofread. written while i was half asleep. like always, reblogs are very very appreciated.

a/n: i genuinely don't know how i feel about this one... there are parts i like and parts i don't like (that i was too lazy to fix) and it's kinda just stitched together ... lmk what you think in the comments pretty pls 💞

"question four – what's the difference between molarity and molality?"

"wait, those are two different things?"

since you and satoru had both procrastinated studying for your impending chemistry test, you found yourselves at the library long past midnight. 

it was an accident – when you had decided to study in the library instead of at home, you hadn't anticipated running into anyone you knew. but of course, satoru gojo, the charismatic guy in your english class, was here too. 

you wouldn't say that the two of you were close – acquaintances was a better word. satoru and you knew of each other and were on friendly terms, but until now you had never really taken the time to talk alone.

but hey, just because you didn't know the guy that well didn't mean you were about to turn down a free study partner. especially one as attractive as satoru, although it was admittedly a bit distracting when you were trying to focus on your work.

it wasn't his fault – his long, white lashes were just naturally mesmerizing. and his eyes? breathtaking. even in the dim light of the library, his eyes shone like crystals. you didn't even want to start thinking about his hands, his jawline, and certainly not his body, otherwise you'd be studying something else the whole night – him and his stupidly attractive self.

after a ton of mental self-chiding, you finally manage to get your priorities straight and actually try to study, but what started as a study session gradually turned into a tutoring session when you two realized that one of you needed a lot more help than the other.

and to your dismay, that was you.

"you really thought molarity and molality were the same thing?" satoru scoffs, shamelessly grinning. "y'know, it's really a miracle you have an A in the class. you don't deserve it."

"shut up," you reply, knowing only too well that he was right. the only reason you were able to maintain a good grade in this stupid chemistry class was because the teacher offered a ridiculous amount of extra credit.

but unfortunately, you couldn't float on that boat for much longer. your grade was still slowly slipping, from a 95 to a 93 to what was now a flat 90, and your pride wouldn't let that number fall any further.

satoru laughs and shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair. "c'mon, at least tell me what molarity is."

"uhh, that's moles per liter, right?"

he nods and twirls a pen in between his fingers. "yeah, that's right. now what's molality?"

"how should i know? i don't pay attention in class," you groan, resting your head in your palm.

satoru rolls his eyes, and you take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous they are. they were a color somewhere in between cerulean and ocean blue, further enhanced by his long white lashes.

your admiration quickly fades to indignation when satoru clicks his tongue and starts rattling off some dictionary definition of molality.

"y'know, you'd know more if you weren't on your phone the whole time in class," he says dryly. 

you groan again and lean back in your chair. "it's just so boringgg," you whine, pushing the chemistry worksheet away. "forget it, i'll just guess on the test tomorrow. it usually works."

as you start to sweep your pencils and papers into your bag, satoru grabs your wrist and gets you to meet his ocean-blue eyes. "i'll feel bad if you do badly because i didn't help you enough."

his grip on your wrist is firm but gentle as he leans a millimeter closer. "let me help you, yeah?"

after a beat of silence, you nod and look away. his glacial eyes are piercing in the kind of way that makes you think he can see right through you, and you don't like the feeling of being readable.

"so, am i gonna have to force you to pay attention or will you do it yourself?"

the question catches you off guard. something about the way he asks it makes it very clear that it's a genuine question – either you can try and make yourself focus or he can make you.

you don't quite know what the latter means, but it sounds more fun, so that's what you pick.

and that's how you ended up on his lap, hair wrapped around his fingers as he quizzed you from behind. 

satoru had somehow motivated you to actually try and study by rewarding you with a kiss for every question you got right. had the offer come from anyone else, you would've called them a creep, but satoru was attractive and he knew it. on top of that, he wasn't afraid to use his good looks to get what he wanted, which, in this case, was for you to do good on tomorrow's test.

"avogadro's number?"

"umm, 6.022 x 10 to the 23rd?"

satoru nods and kisses the side of your face, lips trailing over your jawline as his eyes flick back to where he'd scribbled a couple practice questions.

"how many bonds can hydrogen form?"

"one."

this time, his lips touch your neck, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint in your body to hold back the embarrassing sound you can feel at the bottom of your throat.

"last question, how many bonds can carbon form?"

this time, your voice comes out breathier than you expected. "four, right?"

"smart girl." 

and now, for the first time this night, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips. he doesn't linger and he doesn't give you any chance to savor the taste of his lips – one second his mouth is pressed to yours, the next it's moving with words you don't quite absorb.

he rifles through a couple papers and makes a face. "actually, my bad, there's more. not much," he quickly adds when he sees you groan. "just some stuff we didn't cover completely at the beginning."

"you're the worst."

"you'd fail without me."

"maybe, but at least i'd be happier."

despite your playful jabs, the truth that studying with satoru was a lot more bearable than studying by yourself, and it was also a lot easier to stay awake. before you knew it, two hours came and went, and you were practically an expert on everything that could possibly be on the test tomorrow.

and when you're finally able to confidently tell satoru the difference between molarity and molality, that's when he turns you around on his lap to face him and presses his lips to yours again, and this time, he doesn't pull away.

"you're a quick learner, aren't you?" satoru mumbles against your lips. he pulls back for a second to get some air before grabbing your chin and leaning in for more. "yeah, i wonder what else i could teach you. you wanna find out, pretty?"

you're not entirely sure when the studying ended and the making out started, but you certianly do know when the making out ended. 

before you could reply to satoru's rather suggestive question, a message blared from the speakers around the library and interrupted whatever you two had going on.

" it is now closing time. all remaining students, please return to your residential places immediately."

satoru chuckles and nudges you off of his lap before standing up and stretching. "well, it's almost 3, we should get some rest." 

"yeah, that's probably smart."

"of course it is. i'm smart."

"yeah yeah," you mumble after a second when no better retort comes to mind. probably because he was telling the truth – satoru was smart, and he knew it. 

"well, i'll see you tomorrow," he says, sweeping the remainder of his stuff into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. "good luck on the test, you'll do great."

you smile and zip up your own backpack before heading towards the exit on the other side of the library, his words buzzing around your head and the memory of his mouth fresh on your lips the whole way home.

"satoru, satoru! guess what i got on my test!"

after you made your way home from the library last night, you slept like a rock. barely a minute after you tiredly stumbled into your oh-so welcoming bed, you were out. 

despite only getting around five or six hours of sleep, you felt pretty damn good the next morning as you sat down to take your chemistry exam. and that good feeling stayed with you the whole test, and when you finished, you were able to confidently set your paper on your teacher's desk.

well, as confidently as anyone could set a piece of paper down anyways.

but now it was lunchtime, and a soft chiming sound from your phone signaled that the test was score and put into your grade. your hands shook slightly as you tapped the notification, but to your delight, a 97 lit up your screen.

and of course, who else could you credit with this besides satoru? so you walked over to where you'd seen him hang around during lunch and called out his name, but you really hadn't anticipated company.

"ah, satoru, who's this?" the dark-haired boy beside satoru asked, voice light with interest. "have you been seeing someone and not telling me about it?"

satoru laughs and shoves the guy's shoulder before turning to you and grinning. "sorry 'bout him. yeah, what was your score?"

he has a lollipop in his mouth, and as he raises an eyebrow at you, you feel yourself grin as you proudly say "a ninety seven! my grade went up to the mid-ninties, too!"

"smart girl. knew you could do it," satoru says, a lopsided smile spreading across his face.

"it's only 'cause of you," you say, a bit sheepishly. "without your help, i wouldn't've been able to do that."

satoru exhales a laugh and reaches out to ruffle your hair. he looks like he's about to say something before the other guy clears his throat.

"sorry to interrupt your... moment, but the lunch line is starting to grow and my patience is starting to shrink. satoru, you coming?" 

"yeah, give me a sec, suguru." 

satoru looks back down at you, sunglasses resting on the tip of his nose and cerulean eyes flashing in the sunlight. "looks like i gotta go."

you nod and wave him off. "yeah, i'll see you around, i guess. thanks so much for the help, really. i owe you one."

satoru grins and pulls the lollipop out of his mouth. still looking at you intently, he runs his tongue over the lollipop one last time before sticking in your mouth.

"you wanna pay me back for tutoring you last night?" satoru asks, smirking at the surprised look on your face. "drop by my place tonight. i'll teach you something else this time."

he leans in and gives you a quick, sugary kiss before turning away and walking in the direction geto left in, leaving you with nothing but a tingling sensation in your lips and a promise to see you soon.

satoru laughs to himself as he walks away, waving one hand back at you without bothering to turn around. when he catches up to suguru, the latter notices the wide smirk satoru dons and asks about it.

"oh, it's nothing. just looking forward to tonight."

you were, too.

a/n: if i wrote smut i'd write a pt 2 to this. maybe one day idk

i'm probably going to get back to writing some more angst after i finish the last of my requests. i miss writing fics that make people cry /hj

if you haven't already, check out some of my other jjk fics in my masterlist (below!)

anyways thank u vvv much for reading, reblogs are always very appreciated 💞

masterlist

[obliqueblade]

A Post from a Friend

Hello, everyone. I am not Obliqueblade, and for those who have been here before, I’m sure you know what that means. For those unaware, or those stumbling across this blog in the future, I will explain. 

The original owner of this account, my best friend, has died. 

I didn't even know that she had a Tumblr, nor that she had planned to leave it with me after everything. It breaks my heart a bit to see her updates and talk about her prognosis as she did. 

I’m sure I’ll have more to say, eventually, I do plan on doing as she asked, completing her work the way she wanted- but for now, I want to grieve my friend. Then, I want to talk about who she was, explain just how much this community meant to her, and generally just talk about one of the greatest people I’ve known. 

She did leave a message she wrote a month ago, about a week before she passed, and I would like to share it with you all now. 

Feel free to leave comments, I’ll be back to answer soon. 

Thank you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been putting this off for quite some time, but I fear I have no more time I can delay. Despite everything, I’m still a procrastinator at heart. I have spent far too much time thinking of how I want to address those who have stumbled onto my account and on my writing, but I fear for all my writing I am not sure how to word what I feel. 

Rather than continuing to wait, I have decided to write what I have collected of my thoughts thus far. I deeply appreciate those who have left likes, comments, and reposts of my writing- even those outside of “Who are you, really?”. When I started this journey, I had not anticipated it taking as long as it has. I also did not foresee what would occur at that time. I had thought I would live to see the end of my fic, but that can no longer be the case.

But that is the way life works, I suppose. Most people are not dealt the hands they deserve, nor are they given nearly enough time. 

I have always wished to help people- I had hoped that I would be able to achieve that in my life, but I am not sure I can say I have. Regardless, I am grateful for those who were able to contribute to my happiness these past few years. 

Recently, I have to admit I took a step back from writing, as well as watching Hermitcraft. I fear my heart may not be able to take not knowing what I will be left never to know. Waiting on those cliffhangers of “what’s next”- when I do not know if I will wake up tomorrow. 

I am satisfied with what I have seen so far, and as of writing this, Joel has announced his own TCG common card. I have asked the friend I have left this account for to get one on my behalf to join the others I have. I would like them, as well as all the merch I have to be with me. It feels important that even though I will no longer be here, those stay with me. 

While I may not be watching Hermitcraft as I wait, I am pleased with the memories I carry—the joy they bring me. The edits, art, and stories this community has created supported and distracted me in some of my darkest moments, and I truly regret that I will not be able to finish this story, with my own words, the way I had intended. 

Finally, I want to say, thank you. Even if you are discovering all of this after my passing, I am grateful to all those who have stumbled into my little corner of the internet. Just because I am gone, the things I have gotten to create will forever remain as moments captured from a different time.

This was truly the happiest few years of my life and in the words of Technoblade himself

 “I hope you all go on to live long, prosperous, and happy lives because I love you guys”

~ObliqueBlade Out

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 8) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~I am staying up stupid late to write more for the big-man fan-club and I have ZERO regrets. Except maybe that paper I'm procrastinating on. I'll be making a masterlist soon so there won't be so much clutter on these posts linking to all the parts. Also, changed the title so that there was more clarity for people picking out this story~

Word count so far (all parts:) 14,593

Tag List!: @ruh--roh-raggy @likoplays

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships. Trophy taking, panty stealing (never thought I'd write that), William being a perv, masturbation, voyeurism if you squint?

The weekend had been long and somehow all too quick after Steve dropped you back at your house. Handing you an envelope with your pay check in cash, apologising that it had taken so long to get to you, but there had been some delays since he had reported the Spring Bonnie animatronic supposedly moving and the owner needed to investigate. The pay check came with some elegant handwriting that apologised for the inconvenience, but that you should be made aware that the animatronic might possibly roam around still. Precautions would be taken to try and assure your safety however.

You scoffed as you read it, and put it down on your bedside table as you thumbed through the cash, eyes widening as you counted. There was almost two hundred dollars more than you expected, and you felt as if you were going to faint as you realised that the money was probably compensation of some sort. Silence money about what had happened at the restaurant.

Smiling to yourself, you wondered if you should treat Steve to a meal like he had done for you when you got the job. Thinking that that would be a nice thing for him. You touched the top of your head, patting it slowly as if trying to get the same feeling from where had patted your head so affectionately but your smaller, lighter hands couldn't replicate it.

Steve had handed you your uniform back as well, seeming sheepish as he apologised, it seemed that his old dryer had taken your delicates and eaten them, or possibly slipped in-between the drum and the motor in the back, which would basically mean that they were more than likely shredded up at that point. You'd laughed about it, telling him not to worry about it, it wasn't like it was your only pair after all. Raglan had laughed with you, despite the fact that as he spoke, he knew exactly where they were. They were in a little box on his bedside drawer, your name attached to a little tag tied carefully onto the cotton fabric. The date they had been 'collected' too. He wanted something of yours to recall that initial assault vividly with. A shudder had passed through his body as he wondered how many he could possibly take from you. How many firsts of yours would he end up being if you continued to feed his dark desires by being so naive about the intentions of the old killer.

It was with a great reluctance that you had pulled on thick work trousers and a blouse, the Freddy's jacket over the top as you got ready to go back to work. Steve had almost begged you to keep going, the owner clearly liked you enough to investigate the complaint, and having received a lot more money than you anticipated, you felt some obligation that you needed to return to Freddy's and continue being a good employee.

The walk felt longer than usual, but you supposed that they last time you had walked it, you had feared for your life. Tonight was slightly different to the last time you walked there, as a cop car pulled up and flickered the lights for a moment, forcing you to pause and wait to speak to the officer.

The tinted window rolled down and revealed a young woman who didn't look too much older than yourself. Her blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail and her grey eyes tired with bags beneath them despite the warm and friendly smile she gave you.

"Well I apologise ma'am, but you were speeding." She joked, making you laugh as you realised it was probably more a friendly check in than anything else. Relaxing slightly, you shrugged your shoulders and held up your hands in mock surrender.

"Sorry officer, I'll walk slower and more depressed next time." Watching as the cop cracked a smile before nodding over to the passenger side of the car.

"You work at Freddy's right, jump on in. I was heading there actually, it's on my rounds and I wanted to check in."

At the thought of not having to walk the rest of the way, you eagerly climbed into the car, clicking your seatbelt into place and allowing the cop to drive off towards the pizzeria. Glad you were out of dying sunlight and able to save your legs, especially since you would have to carry two bags back with you. A small pack with a toolkit inside it as you decided you were also going to take your own security precautions against the violent bunny.

"Hey, what happened to the back of your head? You're all bandaged up." The woman besides her frowned, glancing at you and staring as you reached up and touched the bandages on the back of your head. You were luckily mostly healed after a weekend of rest, but you felt self-conscious about it still.

"Oh it was um..an accident at work, don't worry, I promise I'm fine." You smiled reassuringly, adjusting your hair to try and hide the bandages a little better. Feeling your cheeks burning in shame as the woman made a non-committal hum before turning her attention back to the road.

The drive was mercifully short and you couldn't escape the car fast enough, hoping that the drive was informal introduction to the local law, but your stomach sank slightly as you watched the woman climb out too and lock up her car. Gesturing for you to lead the way in, she seemed confident as she moved through the hallways, knowing exactly where she was headed, which you supposed that she would considering she said Freddy's was part of her rounds.

"Have you seen them yet?" The blonde asked, making you raise and eyebrow quizzically and shrug your shoulders, that cold feeling in your stomach growing as she spoke vaguely.

"If you mean the guys on stage, yeah, you could say that." You sighed, heading into the office and feeling a little surprised as you noticed your possessions that you left in a neat pile on the desk, organised in a meticulous pile and your bag sat on your chair compared to the dusty flood where you had left it fleeing.

"The 'guys'." The blonde laughed, shaking her head and leaning against the desk as you flipped the breaker. Watching the monitors as you always did to see them power on, glad to see the camera that was down was also fixed whilst you were away. "wow, did your mom not take you to Freddy's growing up?"

"I'm not from here, so no, I had never heard of it until I got this job." You answer slightly curtly, anxious to see if the animatronics would move. Wondering if you would have to deal with a freaking out cop who was armed as well as things like Foxy deciding to try clawing down your door again. Pulling out a piece of paper and some crayons that you kept in the drawer, you began to doodle, making the woman raise a curious eyebrow.

"I'm Vanessa, by the way." You paused your movements and answered her with your own name, receiving a nod of acknowledgement from Vanessa as you continued drawing.

"So, what on Earth are you doing doodling on the job?" She asked, wondering what your answer was, recognising a crude picture of the animatronics, what she recognised as you and a crude picture of herself too. All with smiles and holding hands together. On another piece of paper, you drew another Foxy and a sad looking security guard, making sure to give Foxy red eyes and an open mouth with lots of sharp teeth.

"You'll see, potentially." You answered, looking up at the monitors and noticing that Freddy had decided to move from his spot on stage. Soon hearing the familiar 'thunk' of his footsteps and watching as he came into view of your door. Pausing quizzically outside with his ears wiggling, seeming surprised that your door was open and that there was another person inside.

Holding up the drawing of all of them, you showed it to Freddy, who seemed to look at it intensely before raising his eyebrows and doing his silent laugh and ear-wiggles. A sign you had interpreted as the animatronic being happy with some relief.

"You...You know about them?" Vanessa asked, looking shocked towards you, paling slightly as she glanced between you and Freddy in the doorway, leaving it your turn to frown suspiciously at the cop and cross your arms across your chest.

"And so do you by the sounds of it." Raising an eyebrow and trying not to crack a smile as you noticed the bear from the corner of your eye mimicking your expression somewhat.

"Uh... Yeah, I um.. I've known for a while, most people just...leave...when they find out about this though."

"Apart from Foxy and that creepy fucking rabbit, I've not really had any issues." You explain, shrugging your shoulders and taking a seat back at the desk, chewing at your lip as Freddy decided to wander back into the restaurant, seemingly content that you had company for the night.

"Bonnie is not that creepy." Vanessa said, scuffing her shoe across the floor, looking out down the hall and glancing up at one of the hidden cameras she knew her father had installed to keep an eye on the place.

"No, that spring Bonnie thing, the yellow one? Creepy as hell and a violent shit too." You laughed bitterly, reminding you to reach into your bag and take out your tool kit as well as some thick grating that you had picked up from a supply store.

Vanessa froze as you mentioned the yellow rabbit, her heart beating quickly in her chest and stomach sinking as she glanced over your injuries once more. The fading pattern of bruises across your throat making her feel sick to her stomach as she realised that it was all too familiar to her. And the fact you had a small scar across your cheek, she guessed it came from a blade, taking a deep breath and trying to steel her own nerves as she realised you had met her father.

At least, you had been convinced it was an animatronic, and not a person inside the suit.

"I'm surprised that thing still moves." She laughed nervously, biting her lip as she watched you working before she stood up, slapping her thighs and making you jump as you attempted to fit the new vent cover. "Hey, I got other places to check, but it was nice meeting you, stay safe you hear me?"

You smiled at her, and watched as she dug into her pocket, pulling out a business card with her number on it, handing it over and smiling with something like nerves making her eyes betray her concern for you.

"How about we meet in a few days, I can try to get you some more info on this place and you can possibly give you some tips?"

"Sure, that sounds nice Vanessa." You said, a little surprised at the offer, but accepting, watching the woman leave your office and heading towards the front doors your had both entered by. Shaking your head as you continued with your work after she had gone.

~~

Raglan had taken out the box from his nightstand as he watched the cameras on his laptop again, listening to your conversation with Vanessa with a frown. But he knew that his daughter had enough braincells left in her head to realise betraying him wasn't a great idea, smirking as he thought of you falling further into his tangle of lies and deceit. His fingers brushed over the box and he opened it cautiously, thick calloused fingers brushing against the delicate fabric that made up the panties he had taken as a little trophy, taking them out of the box, he couldn't held as his thumb ran over the thin fabric that would have laid against your sex. Feeling himself twitching in his pants with groan as he tried to imagine if you were wet for him as his fingers had wrapped around your throat.

He pawed at himself slowly, trying to get some relief from his rapidly hardening cock as he thought about how you had cried for him on the Friday night. Called his pretend name like some whispered prayer and fell asleep against him, oblivious to the knife being played with above your head.

The delicious way you had tried to fight against your own body as he drew that very same knife up the inside of you leg. How you had trembled like a scared little thing as your mouth hung open uselessly, a silent scream as he had felt his own heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He gripped himself through his slacks and stroked slowly, savouring the shivers that went through his body and biting his lip to stifle a growl. Steve could only imagine how pretty you would look choking on him, tears in your eyes and fighting to breathe around him. Maybe he would be kind to you and grip your shaking body close as he explored all the marks and scars he could imagine inflicting on your practically unblemished skin.

Growling frustratedly, he squeezed himself before reluctantly removing his hand and feeling himself throbbing hungrily. Glancing at the screen where he watched you taking a seat at your desk and throwing your head over the back-rest, making him hiss in delight as he ached to have his fingers back around your throat.

As much as he wanted to continue the fantasy in his head, he looked at his trophy longingly before running his lips over the fabric, imagining how you would flinch away from his hot breath. Or maybe how your soft thighs would squeeze around his head and let him listen to your racing pulse in your femoral artery, how easy it would be to turn and bite, letting the warmth spill across his sheets.

The throbbing in his slacks made him groan as if in pain, shakily putting back the delicate prize and letting the faint smell of you linger against him, focusing on the screen again to watch you through your shift. Licking him his lips as he let his hand wander across his groin again, breathing a little ragged as his fingers twitched around him despite the fabric separating him from his own skin. Still refusing to give in to the promise of release.

Steve Raglan was a patient man after all. And the thought of waiting in anticipation to ruin such a sweet thing made the wait all the more bittersweet for himself.

[squiishiichaos]

So, as I'm getting back into writing for fandoms after a long time away, I've been thrown headfirst into the AFTG fandom, and--as anticipated--I had to write content for my unlikeable favorite. So, here, have a treat of Perfect Court Popstar AU while I procrastinate everything else I'm supposed to be doing today.

(TW for implied sexual content/sex work)

Riko spat the taste of flesh into the sink alongside a mouthful of saliva and disgust. He brushed at his teeth with his finger, rinsing and gurgling to get the last of the taste from his tongue. It was a moot point. The night was just beginning, and there was no way the many influential people here learned to keep their hands to themselves overnight. But this was the price he paid to be relevant–one he would keep paying to earn the big hookups he needed to craft his Perfect group without any say from anyone–not his uncle, not his company, no one.

He touched the fold of bills fresh in his pocket just as the door opened and a fresh body stepped over the threshold. Kevin knew better than to spare him pity at an event like this. It was status quo for the best of the best to be tossed around the richest hands, offered up like tribute by agencies desperate for donors and wealthy sponsors. Someone would eventually spot Kevin's pretty green eyes and see how fast they could make his long legs bend. Riko had always been better at offering up sweet kisses and alternatives where it mattered, but Kevin needed his mouth full to stop whatever diva words awaited the first person to dare call one of the latest up and coming stars good.

At least his attitude was refreshing. Riko wanted the world to know they were the best. The King and Queen and whatever army they allied. And once he had a full militia beneath his guard, these petty nuisances would no longer be their problem to put up with.

"You good?" Kevin asked, jerking his thumb back at the open doorway behind him. "The Master is looking for you."

Riko couldn't stop his groan. "Again?" Kevin shrugged his indifference and knocked a knuckle against the door. Riko said, "I'll be out when I am out."

Kevin nodded his agreeance, then pulled a card from his pocket. Riko took it and glanced at the name plastered on it. "Moreau?"

"Rapper," Kevin explained, "French."

Riko spared him a withering glance. "We perform in Japanese and English."

"He will learn," Kevin told him with conviction. "His flow is finite and his emotion is strong. He'll match our voices well."

"Can he move?"

"He will," Kevin said, then turned and backed from the room, leaving Riko to prepare himself for more press and more coverage.

The life of a celebrity truly was a bitch.

[nerves-nebula]

a gift i made in like an hour don’t judge it too harshly it’s like midnight and i’m procrastinating studying for my finals 🙏

⚠️TW⚠️: CSA, incest, child abuse

*throws this and runs away*

the day started badly.

it was warm, and for the first time in a while there was some food in the fridge, leo wasn’t throwing a bitch-fit and the lair should still be clean from his duties last night.

but none of that mattered.

because dad was upset.

and when dad was upset, everyone was upset.

he tried to ignore it, tried to let the droning, mindless creature take control of his body, take control of his mind so he didn’t have to, so he could relax. but he couldn’t. every time the man’s footsteps dragged across the cool concrete floors, raph’s shoulders would tense.

his ears would tune in to any move, any noise that would clue splinter into a sudden rage so he could be a step ahead of him. the presence would drag him back to consciousness every time.

just another thing he’s forced to do.

the steam from the pot below him warmed his cold hands, defrosted the ice buried in the grooves of his fingers as he added ingredients and stirred with precision so natural, it might as well have been mechanical.

twice left.

once right.

the liquid boiled beneath him, softly bubbling against the confines of the walls the pot held it in. the heat pricked his fingers uncomfortably.

twice left.

once right.

someone was making noise. voices. the familiar words from his siblings were muffled behind the lairs doors.

mikey and leo. donnie wouldn't be out of his room yet.

twice left.

once right.

a heart beat quickly in the chest he resided in, pumping adrenaline through his veins. the voices were getting louder. they’d be yelling soon.

twice left.

…

how many times right?

green hands shook around the wooden spoon, no longer circling the pot. the soup bubbled fiercely beneath him, hypnotic to his eyes as he stared at the concoction.

one.

two.

pop.

the corners of his vision flickered hazily to static. his gaze didn’t move.

one.

two.

pop.

“-god, you can be such a dick sometimes!”

“don’t get upset because i take training more seriously than you!”

one.

two.

pop.

“training? you think this is about training?”

“what else would it be about? it’s not like you can contribute anything else of worth to this clan!”

one.

two.

pop.

“maybe i don’t wanna be a part of the clan! maybe i should just take MY brothers and leave!”

one.

“oh, cause that worked so well last time! i know you have the IQ of a goldfish, mikey, but don’t you remember you got caught?”

two.

“because you don’t want us to leave, but you don’t want us around either! leo, what the fuck do you want us to do? it’s not our fault you’re fucking psychotic! if you weren’t such an asshole then-”

“can you two SHUT UP!”

pop.

silence fell in the sewer. the air was still, charged with a current of anticipated anxiety. his breath left him in pants, hands shaking under the white knuckle grip against the lip of the counter.

his veins flooded with ice, jolting through his fingers and toes, melting down the nerves of his legs. his face was flushed red earth radiated from his cheeks.

he heard a door close somewhere in the house.

his breath caught in his throat, a quiet, struggled whine leaving his lips instead as the oxygen cut itself off.

a pair of footsteps dragged slowly closer, agonizingly slow. patient, like he had all the time in the world, like no matter how long he took, what he was looking for would still be there when he arrived.

he would. he knew he wouldn’t run even if he could. his feet stayed planted against the concrete.

“red.”

his blood went cold.

“follow me.”

he could see leo and mikey in the corner of his vision, peaking around the corner of the door frame. mikey’s breathing was strained and subtle, watching with panicked eyes.

leo was silent.

he desperately tried to wrangle a breath into his constrained lungs, as he turned off the heated stove with shaky hands. splinters back was to him. somehow that made everything more demeaning.

he lowered his gaze to scowl at the ground. splinter walked casually, almost nonchalantly towards the dojo, and raph felt his heart freeze again.

the door slid open with a creaking ‘whoosh’, and raph obediently closed it behind him, much to his dismay.

splinter walked to the head of the room, his usual place in front of a faded mural depicting the hamato clan through the ages. the paint was dull and chipping, the faces too worn down to make out anything other than initial basic features.

it still made him feel watched.

“kneel.”

raph knelt at his father's feet, face hot with rage and shame boiling under the surface of his skin.

he tried to let the parasitic creature in his mind dig it’s claws into his frontal lobe, stabbing a razor sharp tail into his hippocampus to blind his memory from whatever was about to happen.

he stayed in control.

“what,” splinters voice was low and dangerous, a facade of calm masking the brewing storm beneath the words. “was so important, you had to disturb me with your pointless whining?”

was raph supposed to speak? was that his cue? was this a trick question?

he opened his mouth to stumble over a useless explanation, but he was cut off sharply before anything could leave his beak.

“well? i’m waiting!”

“i just- mikey and leo were- “

a sigh quieted him instantly, his mouth snapping shit with an audible ‘click’.

“red, you understand you’re lucky, yes?”

“…yes sensei.”

“do you know what my father would have done to me if i did the same stunt you just pulled?”

trick question.

“he would have been much crueler with his punishment, sensei.”

“good.”

a thin, clawed hand landed on his shoulder, the grimy fur felt rough against his skin.

the hand rubbed gently, back and forth on his scales, and he cut his airway off, closing his throat to stop the anxious, distressed churr from leaving his mouth.

“red. you’re a good student.”

…

what?

“you’re strong, you have potential to serve this clan well. you could be a ferocious ninja one day.”

raph stayed silent. there was no manual for how to navigate this.

“do you know why i’m so hard on you?”

“…no sensei..?”

like a switch, the clawed hand dug into his flesh, and a whimper bubbled in his throat. he fought it down, along with the vomit churning in his stomach.

“it’s because while you have physical qualities the hamato clan prides themselves in, you are a disaster mentally.”

i wonder who’s fault that is.

“you are disobedient, your self control lacks anything of worth, you’re too quick to anger, and you are nothing this clan stands by. why haven’t you fixed this yet? why do you cling to the resolve of your flaws so desperately?”

“…sensei i- “

“and that’s another one of your issues! you’re impatient and disrespectful.” the grip on his shoulder loosened a fraction, sharp claws retracting from his skin. a shallow breath escaped his lips.

“look at me.”

the hand trailed lower.

no.

ice clotted in his veins, his muscles tensed under pale, flushed skin.

“dad i don’t- “

“that’s your problem,” the rat hissed through his teeth, eyes narrow and daring. “you think you get a say.”

his claws hit the ridge of his plastron, and he lightly trailed his hand along the ledge.

raph was gonna puke.

he couldn’t do this again.

“you think you’re in control of things you can’t even comprehend,” splinter seethed, running his finger through the dip down the middle of his front, roughly where his chest would have been.

acid green eyes stayed locked on the ground, and he prayed splinter couldn’t feel the frantic drum of his heart in his chest. the man shifted, crouch down closer to the ground.

“tell me,” he demanded. “tell me who’s in control.”

…

“you, sensei.”

“tell me who you owe your life to; who gave you a roof over your head and food on your table, who you would be dead without?”

“you sensei.”

“and yet you act so ungrateful. all i want is one day of peace and quiet, but you can’t go one minute without whining and complaining, can you?”

“…”

“i asked you a question!”

he angrily blinked the tears out of his eyes, face flushing in shame and humiliation as his body lit a distressed fire through his skin, the furry hand landing roughly on the skin of his thigh.

“…no sensei,” he whispered. his voice broke pathetically as he futility attempted to steady his trembling breath.

his eyes caught sight of his other hand in his peripheral vision, before it settled on his chin, aggressively ripping his chin up, forcing their gazes to meet.

“i’m feeling generous today. you get one more chance.” his breath was hot and acidic where it hit leathered green skin. “don’t waste it. if you pull shit like this again, i’m going to pull you back in here, and show you who really has the poser here. is that what you want?”

he fought desperately to keep his eyes dry and connected with his fathers, pitifully steadying his shaking breath.

“no, sensei.”

“yeah, that’s what i thought. are you going to be good?”

“yes sensei.”

all at once, the hands left him, and his lungs took a greedy breath of grateful, relieved air.

splinter didn’t give him the time of day, casually walking towards the doors of the dojo. “i expect dinner on the table when i get back out there. you have five minutes.”

the door shut, locking the room in an oppressive silence.

his feet were shaky and unsteady beneath him as he stumbled back onto his legs, patting towards the door.

mikey didn’t meet his eyes when he saw him on his way towards the kitchen, but the sight of tears glistening along the path they dropped off his face set in an emotion raph couldn’t name a light in his chest.

leo glanced at him from the couch, expression blank and untelling. he said nothing, just pursing his lips and looking away from him, a fleeting, subtle look of guilt flashing through his eyes.

the soup was already dished out when he got to the kitchen. the dishes were drying on the rack.

he could have sworn his bowl was more full than it should have been.

he didn’t take the time to linger on the thought as the skittering sound of footsteps hitting the concrete floor bounced off the walls.

the rest of the night passed in a haze. only blurry images whipping through his mind at any chance of recollection he attempted to take.

the mattress under him was ratty and old, but the cotton inside of it provided a familiar comfort as he lay in the dip his body had worn over time.

the day started badly. the lair was warm with sunlight; the food was fresh in the fridge.

but the feeling of grime under his skin was just as present, and it would last far longer than some fucking food.

i don’t know how to write splinter man, all i know is that he’s a piece of shit who craves control cause he lost the control of his own life 😭

uh. ur welcome?

HEY. HEY. LOOK AT ME. WHEN I FINISHED THIS I SAT BACK AND ACTUALLY SCREAMED "AAAH. FUCKK" OUT LOUD. THIS IS. THIS MAKES ME FEEL. AUGHSAUGHAH ??? I HAD TO ILLUSTRATE HOW THIS MADE ME FEEL CAUSE THERE WAS NO BETTER WAY TO DO IT I. I. AUGHHHHHH.

[merakiui]

14 and/or 23 for the writer ask game?

>w< thank you so much for asking!!

(writer asks)

14. what’s your worst writing habit? 

Creating too many ideas while actively writing something. That is, sometimes it’s difficult to focus on just one wip when my brain is giving me so many other ideas. T^T while I love to think of new concepts and plots, it can be distracting when I’m in the process of writing something.

But currently I’m very locked in for this Floyb fic. It’s already at 10k words. ;;;;; I fear this may be another tmdg moment where a fic becomes much longer than anticipated. Anything for Floyb romance. <3

Another writing habit of mine would have to be unconscious perfectionism. >_< which then leads to procrastination when I become too tunnel-visioned on ensuring the fic I’m writing is up to my standards. It’s a terrible habit I am slowly working to resolve,,, I must be gentler on my writing. :D

23. how do you deal with writers block?

I always mourn whenever the dreaded writer’s block is upon me. 😔 I love being creative, so it’s troublesome when I find myself unable to write. When this happens, I often hop from wip to wip until something sticks or I get a burst of inspiration (which is sometimes enough to break the writer’s block). Other times I avoid writing altogether and do other hobbies. Inevitably, something will pull me out of the slump. Returning to the page with new ideas after overcoming writer’s block is always so refreshing!!!

[gaoau]

Bristle – Suicidal Photoshoot

A Mother's Instinct warnings — none. word count —1.4k

prev. — next.

[Name] wasn't dumb by any means; Yaku knew that much. She could handle herself correctly, she worked hard as much as she procrastinated, she somehow managed to keep a wild snake alive for longer than he had originally anticipated—and Gilbert loved her dearly, which greatly impressed him. She was an organized mess that carried herself with an air of responsibility and disaster at the same time.

If Yaku had to choose one word to describe her, his first option would be chaotic. With a little more thought—that thought that was very clearly biased—he could choose the word spontaneous. Of course, considering he looked at [Name] through a lens that had turned a rose color without him noticing, his judgement was clouded with pure adoration. But he was simply in love, not stupid.

Whenever [Name] joined forces with people as spontaneous as her—although Yaku did refer to those as stupid idiots—whatever rationality she had left in her leaped out the window and her chaos reached its peak. Those idiots were none other than her favorite set of captains and dear friends Kuroo and Bokuto. More often than not, thankfully, Akaashi stuck close to them to keep them in check and make sure they didn't get too out of line.

Which they did, anyway.

It was their last Summer training camp, considering they were third-years. [Name] was making the most out of it, putting her everything into the meals she cooked with her friends and staying until late to watch over her favorite pair of captains while they practiced. She had mentioned wanting to make as many memories as possible, so she kept a toothy grin on her face the entire time and cackled loudly with everyone around her.

She would never forget giving Konoha a nosebleed when trying to receive a ball she knew she couldn't receive; or having Lev give her a ride on his shoulders every time the team had to run up the hill as a penalty; or messing with Karasuno's first-years because Hinata was too much of a precious bundle of energy to not baby him, and Kageyama was more than willing to teach her how to serve—which she didn't learn at all—or the all-nighters she pulled along her beloved managers while showing them countless pictures of Gilbert, and Yaku, and Gilbert with Yaku.

Oh, and the incredible amount of times she battled Bokuto to an eating contest, only to end up hurling it back out. Or maybe how the Golden Trio of Chaos cracked a couple desks while arm-wrestling—the back of her hand boasted many bruises after being slammed without mercy so frequently. Not to mention the fiasco with those volleyballs, because Kuroo wondered how much air they could handle and [Name] offered to find out for an extra slice of watermelon. Akaashi had been kind enough to give up his own slice if only she left the volleyballs in peace, but [Name] asked, "Do I look like a coward to you?" and Akaashi was rendered speechless.

The unforgettable memories she so desperately desired were being made slowly but surely. After all, who could ever forget that one time Nekoma's manager almost killed their libero?

Yukie had come up with the fantastic idea of a photoshoot between captains and managers for the sake of looking back fondly over their high-school days. [Name] was absolutely ecstatic and instantly agreed to play along, rushing to grab Kuroo and wait patiently for their turn. Yaku hadn't been informed about the impromptu photo session, as he had his hands full with trying to whip Lev into shape once and for all.

The pictures taken were extremely adorable, and [Name] immediately asked for copies of all of them. She had fallen in love at first sight with Karasuno's managers, doting on a very intimidated Yachi every chance she got, and joining Yamamoto and his newest friends in their Kiyoko cult; of course she wanted a picture of their ethereal faces smiling for the camera. Everyone enjoyed the picture-taking, showing off a bit of their personalities through a still image—and by this, she meant Bokuto having his fists pumping in the air, which she also wanted to keep.

At last came Nekoma's turn after hearing [Name] holler compliments at every girl, mostly consisting of Queen! and Yes, you go, baby! It was right when Yukie called for her and Kuroo to step forward that her brain came up with, arguably, her best worst idea. "Hey, Tetsurou, hear me out." Yaku, all the way in a completely different gym, stopped mid-receive at the feeling of his hairs bristling on his nape like those of a furious cat.

Ignoring Lev's calls of confusion, Yaku snatched a cotton towel to dab off the sweat from his forehead while breaking into a sprint to find his best friend. He left her alone for a few minutes and she was already putting herself, and possibly others, in danger. "[Name], whatever you're thinking, don't…" He mumbled prayers under his breath, hoping that when he reached his destination, she would still have all her bones in their right place.

Yaku stepped through the third gym's doors to find [Name] whispering in Kuroo's ears. He watched from the sidelines as Kuroo's lips curled into a mischievous smirk that spelled trouble. Kuroo nodded enthusiastically, to which [Name] replied with an elated grin, and they bumped their fists with a bit too much force.

"Alright, Yukippe, you ready with the camera?" [Name] whipped around on her heels, parallel to Yukie acting as a photographer, and walked away from Kuroo. Yaku frowned.

"Yeah, come on—Wait, where're you going?"

Once she had decided the distance between her and her captain was ideal, she took in a deep breath. "Okay, here I go. Catch me, asshole." Her eyes stabbed daggers into Kuroo. Kuroo knew she trusted him either way.

"Yes, ma'am."

[Name] didn't run like Yaku had originally assumed, but she didn't quite walk either. Her strides were long and bouncy as she approached Kuroo, whose knees were slightly bent and palms were prepared to grab [Name]. The bristling on the back of his head attacking him once again went ignored when the realization slapped him across the face like he had slammed the life out of Lukas.

"[Name], what the fuck?! No!"

It wasn't too late, it was simply that [Name] rarely listened to Yaku's warnings. [Name]'s hands grasped Kuroo's shoulders tightly while Kuroo held onto her hips. She thrust herself into the air, and Kuroo raised his arms to the ceiling. Something that not many are good at is balancing on their hands on somebody else's shoulders; [Name] fell into this category as she flipped over Kuroo's head, screeching her soul out of her lungs. "Holy shit, Tetsurou, abort!"

Yaku still wondered years later how in the ever-loving fuck he had made it in time. His legs moved on their own before he could process the ridiculous scene transpiring right in front of him; he didn't realize when he was right below his best friend as she came crashing down. The weight of her body plus the force of gravity knocked the air out of his system and they toppled to the floor. Kuroo craned his neck backwards to appreciate the dog-pile writhing in pain next to his feet.

"I'm aware I've had better ideas…" [Name] rubbed the back of her head, which had unfortunately bumped against the tiles.

"[Name], I will fucking obliterate you."

"Do you also want ice?"

Yaku groaned in pain when [Name] shifted to get back on her feet, her elbow digging into his chest. "…Fuck. Yes, please." He remained flat on the floor, trying to ignore the laughter of everyone that didn't bother to help. He would have laughed as well, had it not been for the bruises blooming on every inch of his body.

But it didn't matter anyway, for the memory had been made, and he could laugh all he wanted when he reminisced with [Name] in the future.

[whisperofthewaves]

I am flying to athens tomorrow for a couple of days and I need to pack my bag, but I also have to send some documents to the tax office before I leave OR ELSE, but because their fucking interactive pdf with the forms doesn't work with basically any browser/viewer except for internet explorer (what the fuck, but also I'm not surprised in the least) I have to print it and then go to the post office.

but.

of course my printer is useless, and it's my fault for procrastinating three months replacing the damn cartridges, so I need to go to a xero point.

but I also should buy a tap extension replacement bc it broke off yesterday and now washing the dishes means you also wash yourself bc the splash is so strong. and that shop is in the opposite direction to the xero point.

and my flatmate asked me to buy her some stuff while getting the replacement.

and I have to sit down and puzzle out how to fill out the damn tax form, bc I've only ever done the simplified version online.

and we're going to watch Dune 2 today at 7pm.

and I ordered a pizza for breakfast/the rest of the day to get that out of the way, but the waiting time turned out longer than anticipated and I can feel almost physically the window of opportunity to get the hell up and go to the xero point closing with every passing minute I'm waiting for the pizza.

I AM DROWNING IN EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION.

[pecanwriter]

Very Uncool Love Story (MPREG, WG story)

Themes: M/M MPREG romance between a fat librarian and a disabled punk musician

Words: 2863

Part: 1/?

Connected to this drawing, although we're a long way away from this happening!

Larry let out a groan, dropping his hands helplessly at his sides. He stared down at his protruding gut accusingly. No matter how often he attended the gym or watched what he ate, ever since he turned thirty-five his waistline seemed to be expanding simply from his existence alone. In the last two years since he crossed the thirty-five threshold, his so-called waist had positively turned into a pot belly. Okay, he had to be honest with himself, since Cyberpunk 2077 came out he neglected his gym attendance and it definitely contributed to the further expansion of his blubber. And so now, to his dismay, his good dress trousers didn’t fit anymore. He let out another groan, realising that he had no choice but to go to one of the places every self-proclaimed nerd hated more than anything; the shopping centre. The worst part was that since the birthday party for his brother-in-law was happening at six, he had no time to procrastinate.

Squirting some toothpaste onto his brush he looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced. The beard he attempted to grow in order to hide his slowly forming double chin was coming in more patchy than he would’ve liked, but on the bright side, he was surprised to discover there was still more ash blonde in his beard than grey, unlike the hair on his head. Larry was mildly annoyed that he was genetically cursed both with a pot belly and premature greyness. He started getting grey in his mid-twenties, which was the beginning of the end he did not anticipate in time to start dyeing his hair to cover it up. Now, after so many years, it would just look stupid. And so Larry didn’t have much choice but to embrace the image of a grey-haired, fat librarian. He supposed it could’ve been worse, although at that moment he struggled to think how.

“Okay, Marshall, you can do this,” Larry muttered to himself, staring into his own green eyes in the rearview mirror for a moment. Gathering as much strength as he could, he finally got out his car where it was parked in the shopping centre parking lot.

Why are there so many people in the shopping centres at all times? How is that possible? Larry flinched as someone barged past him, laughing on the phone obnoxiously loudly. One of the best aspects of working at the library was that it was always blessedly quiet. Not only that, he was allowed to actually shush people! And they couldn’t do anything about it! Another person shouldered past him, nearly knocking his glasses off his nose. Fixing them in place Larry dived towards the shopping centre map to find the cheapest clothing store possible; he wasn’t about to spend a fortune on something his fat ass would undoubtedly outgrow soon. Besides, the less money spent on clothes, the more money for him to invest in video games.

“Can I help you?” A shopping assistant asked with one of those smiles that could have been real or completely fake and there was no way to tell which.

“I’m looking for dress trousers,” Larry answered, instantly nervous under the scrutiny of the younger man.

“Let me see if we can find something in your size.” He said, and Larry involuntarily flinched.

After an ordeal longer than he would’ve liked Larry emerged from the shop exhausted, but with a new pair of trousers with a size tag he never expected to be searching for. That’s what ageing does to you, he guessed. Ageing and Cyberpunk 2077, he reminded himself sourly. He almost jumped out of his skin as buzzing in his pocket tore him out of his revelry.

“Yes?” “Larry, tell me you remember about Tom’s birthday party.” His sister said. “I remember!” “Don’t you lie to me, brother!”

“I’m not lying!” He sputtered “I even got a new outfit for the party.” “Wow, I’m impressed. Did you get a gift?” “Uh…” “Lawrence Marshall!” She groaned.

“I will get one!” “He was talking about one of those new heavy metal albums he wanted. I don’t remember which band it was… Slayer? Judas Priest? I really don’t remember, but it came out this month, go to the CD store and ask someone!” “Ask someone…? A CD…? Arianna, wait…!” He let out a sigh as the phone indicated the call was ended by the caller.

Once again, feeling even more defeated than he did when he first came into the shopping centre, he went to look for the map to find a CD store in this monstrosity.

Larry took in a deep breath as he stared at the black sign that read “Music Emporium” in an aggressively pointy font and with burning wings on each side of it. That was a bit of an overkill, wasn’t it? Wings and fire? Couldn’t it just be one or the other? Taking a deep breath Larry entered the store.

There was some classic rock playing inside, but thankfully it wasn’t too loud. The shop was rather dim, in fact, it was positively dark and Larry wondered how anyone could see what they were buying. There was nobody inside and Larry was very thankful because never before had he been so painfully aware of being, and looking, like a librarian.

When he meant the shop was empty, he didn’t only mean customers, there was literally no one there. He assumed the shop clerk was somewhere around, maybe restocking something, or maybe they were in the back. But he wasn’t about to call out, God no. He wandered around nervously and when he spotted a sign shouting “NEW RELEASES” in big orange letters he almost flew to it, hoping he would be able to find the CD on his own and buy it without ever revealing to the shop clerk how out of his depth he actually was. He looked at the rows of different CDs and felt immediately lost. How was he supposed to find a CD without knowing anything about it other than the release month? When people asked him for books they didn’t remember the titles of he had so many ways to narrow the search down. Keywords, genre, plot, similar books… How did you search for a CD? He guessed you could sing something from it, but if it was a completely new one then you wouldn’t even know any songs from it, would you? “Why didn’t you call for me?” An unfamiliar voice with a heavy Scottish accent accused and Larry was startled enough to drop the CD he was holding. “Great, that’s amazing.” The man spat, placing something against one of the shelves to go down to the floor. Larry realised it was a crutch. “No, no, I got it!” Larry frantically dropped to the floor, picking up the CD. “You’re…” He started, but the man cut him off. “What? A cripple? Yeah, man, cripples can be music experts too, crazy, huh?” “No, I wanted to say that you’re the shop clerk,” He awkwardly held the CD out to the man “Here, it’s not broken.” “Hm.” The man humphed, taking the CD from him and bringing it closer to his right eye to examine it. That was an unusual thing to do, but Larry immediately recognized the movement. The man either had limited vision or could only see out of one eye. Larry stopped to look at the man as he examined the CD. He was younger than him, maybe late twenties, maybe younger. He was very very light-skinned, almost translucent and his hair was pure white too, shaved on the sides and the short part in the middle was brushed back on gel or something similar. The effect was slightly messy, but Larry was sure it was a very carefully curated look. His ears were gleaming with a multitude of piercings and he was wearing make-up, namely black coal around his eyes and dark, shiny lipstick… Larry couldn’t help but keep examining this man, finding the complicated outfit somewhat fascinating and, once again, vaguely reminiscent of Cyberpunk 2077. He had a necklace with a guitar pick woven into it and was wearing a ragged black tank top that was incredibly snug, showing off a large portion of his abdomen. A very, very flat abdomen, Larry couldn’t help but notice. The man was very slim, positively skinny. His hip bones were sticking out where the denim rested on them and he could see a tattoo peeking out on the side. It wasn’t the only one, in fact, both of his arms were covered and one of the tattoos was expanding to his chest, disappearing under the tank top. Even for an omega, he was extraordinarily handsome. A little sharp around the edges, perhaps, but gorgeous.

“It doesn’t seem broken, lucky you.” The man said in his clear voice, placing the CD down in its place perfectly. “So what do you need?” “I… I’m not sure.” “Browsing then?” “Not exactly, I…” “Yeah?” “I’m looking for a gift, I don’t really know a lot about heavy metal…” “Oh boy.” The man rolled his eyes and Larry was almost sure the left one didn’t roll exactly along the same trajectory as the right. “I’m sorry, it’s for my brother-in-law and…” “Fine, fine, whatever. So do you know the band?” “Not exactly…” “What does that mean?” The man cocked an eyebrow. He was very, very attractive, Larry’s unhelpful mind provided, and he had to resist the urge to facepalm.

“It’s either… Slayer or Judas Priest.” Larry soldiered on despite the man’s lips pursing “It came out this month!” The incredibly attractive shop clerk sighed and then reached for a CD, planting it in Larry’s chest. Larry was unsure if he was planning to do that or if he wanted to hand it to him but misjudged the distance between them.

“Here, Slayer. Judas Priest doesn’t have any new albums.”

“T-thank you.” he managed to say, uncomfortably aware that this very attractive, very skinny and very cool man just accidentally touched his flabby, uncool, librarian chest.

"Let me ring you up then. Unless you wanted something else…?"

"Oh no, nothing else!" Larry said urgently and the man laughed a ringing, beautiful laugh.

Larry blushed violently. What was wrong with him? Feeling his face burning, Larry followed the cleck to the till, observing the man’s careful gait as he leaned heavily on his crutch, but in a practised manner that suggested it was either a long-term or a permanent injury.

"Thank you for your business." The man said and with a slight smirk he added "We hope you will visit Music Emporium again soon!"

"I will." He said reflexively, flinching at the obvious lie and hoping the darkness of the shop concealed his blush.

The man laughed his beautiful ringing laugh again and Larry felt like he still heard it even after driving away to face the birthday party.

*

"Hey, little brother." Arianna wrapped her arms around his neck and then backed away slightly to touch his face. Her face was bright with a smile and her eyes gleamed with it. Unlike the shop clerk's, both of Arianna's unseeing eyes moved completely normally. Larry frowned. Why was he thinking about that omega again? “When will you shave this ridiculous beard?” Arianna asked, frowning.

“I’m not! I like it!” He lied, trying to disentangle himself from his sister’s arms. “Hey, uncle!” Jonas ran into him, jumping excitedly. “Hello, nephew!” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Here.” He pulled out a library book, handing it to the boy who “ooh”-ed excitedly. “Dinosaurs? I’m gonna go read it!” He said, already running off “Thanks, uncle!” “Miriam, say hello to your uncle!” Arianna hissed at her daughter, who was just passing through the hall, her 17-year-old angst on full display in her band T-shirt, ragged jeans and messy hair covering half of her face.

“Hey uncle.” she deadpanned, not even looking up. “God, give me strength,” Arianna muttered. “Okay, I have to finish some stuff in the kitchen, go join the party!” Larry did so, like the obedient younger brother he was.

“You have got to be kidding me, Samuel! Over my dead fucking body! You are a child!” Tom shouted at his oldest son as Larry’s mother and Tom's parents sat uncomfortably in their seats. Sam’s boyfriend Aarul was holding his hand tightly, but flinching at every word Tom shouted at his son. Tom’s sister Moira and her husband Mark kept whispering to each other. From what Larry knew about them he assumed Mark was trying to keep Moira from interrupting.

“I’m not a child, I’m 23 years old, father!” Sam protested “I’m graduating this year, I will get a full-time job then and…” “You’re too young for this!” “Tom!” Moira finally managed to get out from under Mark’s calming spell. “You’re wife is 46 years old. According to, you know, the undeniable logic of math, she gave birth to this here child when she was 23.” “I don’t care, it was a different time!” “Stop shouting, let him live his life, he’s a smart boy.” Tom’s father, Jon, said, waving a hand at him. “What’s happening here?” Larry asked and everyone’s head snapped to look at him. “Larry!” They all exclaimed in a greeting. “You’re nephew is getting married!” Moira exclaimed. “Oh yeah? That’s great, Sam. Aarul.” Larry smiled, squeezing both of the boy’s shoulders and then taking a seat.

“No, Larry, it’s not GREAT.” Tom, the birthday boy, hissed, his thin narrow face twisted in anger. “He’s too young!” “And Aarul is pregnant.” Moira added in a theatrical whisper, which set the table to shouting again as Larry flinched, glad the attention was once again redirected from him. He looked at Sam. He, unfortunately, took a lot after the Marshall side of the family; ash blonde hair, very average-looking face, which couldn’t be called handsome even when he had youth working for him. He was slim and muscular, but from experience, Larry knew that was not going to last forever either. Sam gave him a small smile when he caught his eye. Larry looked at Aarul in turn; he was petite, with dark hair and skin of a South Indian, his thick black hair curled framing his heart-shaped face. He looked at Larry shyly with his big, brown eyes and smiled gently after lowering his eyes to the table again. Aarul was a lovely boy, he made Sam happy and Larry knew him to be hard-working and considerate. Sam was responsible and determined and never tried to hide the fact he thought of Aarul as his one and only. Larry truly didn’t see a problem, they were old enough to make decisions like this and as Moira already pointed out - Arianna and Tom had children and married even earlier than these two.

“Stop it this instant!” Arianna called from the door, holding the cake in front of her as Miriam trailed after her, making sure her blind mother didn’t trip with the cake but also at the same time somehow still managing to text. “Leave the boys alone.” “Arianna…” Tom growled, but his wife totted. “No, stop it, I said. This is a birthday party and there will be no more arguing.” She proclaimed and everyone dutifully kept their mouths shut.

“Good cake.” Mark observed as they were all eating, still in silence that was almost as thick as the cream on the cake. “Who wants more, this cake needs to be gone today, or it will get soggy!” Arianna announced, cutting the rest of the cake up with deliberate, learned motions that once again reminded Larry of the music shop clerk. “So, any takers? Moira? Larry?” “Don’t feed him cake, he’s fat enough!” his mother snapped. “You gained weight again, Larry.” she accused. “Mum, leave him alone!” Arianna hissed. “You’re no better, lady.” his mother snapped, looking critically at Arianna’s ample hips.

“Can we all just stop insulting each other for five minutes?” Tom’s father hissed. “Some of us would like to ENJOY spending time with our family.” “Let’s open gifts!” Jonas said, bouncing in his seat, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere around him. “Dad, open your gifts!”

With his face still twisted in a vague image of displeasure, Tom obliged, reaching for the small pile of gifts. “Thanks, Dad,” Tom said, raising the bottle of whiskey in acknowledgement as his father nodded. “Fishbait? Because…?” Tom looked at his sister. “Because old men love to fish.” The woman proclaimed with a serious face and then burst out laughing. “Great. Thanks.” Tom rolled his eyes, putting the fish bait waiting and reaching for Larry’s gift. “A Slayer CD…” Tom pursed his lips. “Oh no, it’s the wrong CD,” Larry said feeling the blush blooming on his face again and praying the beard covered it. “No, it’s a good CD!” Tom rushed to explain “Only… I already own this.” He grimaced. So did Larry. “Dang. I’m sorry, I will exchange it for something else.” “Thanks, Larry.” “No problem..” Larry murmured, surprised to realise he was actually excited to go back to that music store. What the hell was wrong with him?

[goldenpinof]

Not that this is like, a hot new take or anything, but I can imagine that they both might be going through a bit of a crisis. Like their careers have finally died down but like, what do they do. They haven't done much else but be YouTube personalities (which is more than just YouTube, obv) for like, nearly 15 years. They are probably afraid to venture into new territory, because at this point that will likely mean risking either their brand or their bank accounts (like how Dan had to risk money to do the tour / offer to put up his own money for Dinok). Not that that's a good excuse, but I can understand being afraid and Phil just trying to hang on to his usual content for the both of them (as he also figures out work/life balance). Dan only did DD for the tour and it definitely felt kinda forced. Just doing their old stuff but with their older/out-of-closet selves isn't going to be successful in a way it's safe, for now.

As someone with a lot of the same kind of mental health struggles Dan has, I imagine he might be beyond burnt out and doesn't really want the attention anymore because of the work it requires. And even though it's like, okay it's been months since the tour okay what's next... idk what we'll really get out of him for a while (maybe a few years even?) besides random contract work like the channel 4 thing. Like, projection time, but I just got through grad school with extreme ADHD/executive dysfunction/procrastination etc, and was so burnt out by the end idk how I did it. And I'm like, oh well it's been about 6 months I should probably have a job in my field by now (which I'm probably insane for thinking that anyways because the job market is in so wild). But like, I've been kinda burnt out since 2016 (when I was 16 and a junior in high school, at the end of my og dnp phase) and all I can muster the mental energy to do now is the same part-time / retail work I've been doing the past few years. Which like, I'm barely getting by and I do ultimately feel disappointed that I'm not trying harder to put my fancy new degree to work because I'm barely applying for anything. But I just can't get myself together enough to do that right now. I imagine Dan might be going through something similar, like, he could be doing something creative but he probably is just tired and wants to just live life without any expectations and go on vacations and rely on Phil to be the content creator. He's probably aware that it's not ideal. But he also seems done with compromising any creative vision either because he doesn't want to do sponsorships or anything that isn't a deeply personal piece of art. And he probably doesn't have many deep ideas now that WAD is done and Dinok is stalled and there isn't much he seems to want to do commentary on (because if he just sucked it up he would actually be a pretty good commentary YouTuber lol).

I think they also have a lot more stuff to work through mental health wise too before they are ever really able to not be cryptic about their relationship, since when ex-phannies or random people who remember them see their tiktoks or whatever it's what they all ask about. Like to some degree I don't know if they ever wanted to be out and famous but it got to the point where they couldn't keep denying it either. I'm so glad they came out because it's clearly so much healthier, but beyond the trauma of being closeted that they had to overcome they probably now have trauma from years and years of people being weird towards them about their relationship and it's like... now they have get through that in order to take the next step. do they really want to go through all that just to help open themselves up to a new era of content? Idk.

(this turned out to be wayyy longer than I anticipated woops. can't even remember if some of this was in response to what was on your blog or some of the other similar conversations I've seen about this today but yeah).

i'm almost crying. i hate us so much. this is exactly why the phandom needs meet ups irl or "bubbles" where we could have conversations. because trying to answer THAT without forgetting something is hard, and also i can't imagine how hard it is to write these mini-essays and get bullshit in response.

i appreciate it a lot. and i basically agree with your message. i see how it can be true. and i know that in case of burnout, Dan can let himself step back. the problem i have with him disappearing and coming back after 2018 is that he thinks that the audience will wait for him and accept everything he puts out with the same passion, participation, and amount of money as when he and Phil were making content without long pauses. but book sales, merch sales, tour ticket sales, views and god knows what else that we can't see show that we aren't willing to wait. and it started in 2019 i guess, so you would think that by 2022 Dan would understand what went wrong and just book smaller venues (or make a smaller stage for it to not be a problem). i'm using wad just as an example. you said Dan could not want attention anymore. but he repeatedly says that he loves attention. and it's not only words, you can see it irl. ofc after tours there is a period of time to rest. but before that, there was a clusterfuck of something that was barely content while the merch releases were consistent. either because it was pre-made or because Dan was still living in a rose-colored world thinking that we would buy stuff without content. i'm not sure what i'm arguing here anymore riuehdfsidxkl apologies, i guess it's related to Dan wanting to fuck off. and he CAN. i don't care, 2019 taught me a lesson. (doesn't mean i can't bitch about it <3)

anyway. i understand your struggles with work and degree. basically, i was in the same position after graduating, and now it's even more difficult but i get it. choosing to work part-time, in retail and similar "easy" jobs because you can't deal with the weight of expectations that come with a degree, that's... yeah. an adult reality that no one told us about. i wish you the best, and i hope everything works out well. whatever you decide to do, remember you don't have to use your degree if you don't want to or just don't feel like you can at this moment. you know, getting a fancy "serious" job is such a commitment, bruhh. and you can always walk out of retail :)

Dan would be a brilliant commentary youtuber, you're right! he just knows how to talk and make people listen.

their brand is already fucked, nothing to save here. i mean, Dan and Phil brand doesn't exist. Dan's youtube brand is all over the place. AmazingPhil is the only consistent thing. and yes, it feels like Phil is terrified of shifting in any direction. we're stuck with 2016 content, it's like a real-life time machine on youtube. and if it works for him, fine. i'm just sad that there is no "trying new things" anymore and that he can't even get old successful things back.

i'm not commenting on their relationship because it would be too long. fuck tiktok though. i think dnp jumped to this "new popular" platform with no actual regular content to present as a distraction and that bit them in the ass.

[yanderecandystore]

If you are a fuckin dumbass clap your hands 👏

If you are a fuckin moron clap your hands 👏

If you make them wait for you, for more than a year, if you just suddenly disappear clap your hands 👏👏👏

 It's been WAY TOO LONG OH MY GOD- How do you guys put up with me Jesus Christ.

 The last time I've talked about what was happening in my life I've mentioned that I just started working and trying to rebuild a social life, I also mentioned in one post how I got sick for a week or two I think- So I want to explain that part of the reason for me not writing anymore comes from the fact that my work exhausted me to oblivion.

 I realized that kids were just a lot harder to work with than I anticipated and that I didn't want to stay my whole life working in the daycare because I started to pick up on my … Very unhealthy habits of coping.

 So I recently quit, because my contract actually didn't seem to have a limit (I was so hoping it would have ended sooner but I'm glad I stayed longer, lmao I need money-). And I feel a lot better now, I'm not joking when I say that I actually got sick from work (the many times I got sick and couldn't do anything, were because of me being stressed, I no joke didn't notice this until my doctor pointed it out to me that I shouldn't be coming to see her with so little time in between meetings 💀)

 The other reason is that I started writing and drawing for a webcomic I wanted to make about Brazilian magical girls with a fairy theme- And I felt conflicted whenever I tried to write for both my blog and the webcomic (I'm sorry I'm a one minded person, because if I try making more than one thing my brain fries 💀💀). Which by the way, my job made me give up on that too, like I know jobs are not supposed to be fun, that work is hard and oftentimes we'll be tired- But I never felt more soulless than at that time.

Another reason was that Tumblr kinda took a lot of space in my phone so I had to uninstall it and using it's website mode is just 🤺🤺🤺

 I've been going to therapy now, to deal with my said unhealthy "coping habits" which I don't want to specify because you guys don't have to be burdened with that (also because it can be triggering to some), dealing with past trauma and how I can heal from it has been wonderful and to be honest I really do want to continue with the blog, but I have to be honest here: I'm a huge procrastinator when it comes to writing, I try to multi write (like multitask) different requests and fanfics at the same time- And that doesn't work for me 🤡

 So. My writing will probably be very slow, and again I'm sorry for everyone who sent asks LAST YEAR (I'm so sorry I'm not even joking like seriously that's so fuckin mean and I didn't mean to do that I just suck at doing tasks ;-;).

 I hope everyone is doing well, to everyone new I'm sorry you have to get to know the author by this way lmao, and I hope you're having a good day as well.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[themurphyzone]

BatB AU: A New Beginning

AN: This chapter was originally planned to be Brain’s backstory, but I decided to make this a breather chapter instead to set up new conflicts now that the curse is over.

AO3 Link   

Ch 22: A New Beginning

Everything changed so fast. Even after two weeks, Brain still wasn't used to seeing the castle bright and sparkling, his servants no longer inanimate, and the lack of monstrous attributes in his own reflection. 

His teeth actually fit in his mouth. His nails were smooth, trim, and short. His fur had lightened to a simple ivory color, no longer that ugly, muddled brown shade. He just wished he could remember that he didn't have that set of horrible, twisted horns anymore. 

Yesterday, he'd finally worked up the nerve to try on his old princely crown now that it fit again. But it barely settled on his head before the pressure reminded him too strongly of his horns, and he'd thrown his crown across the West Wing in panic. 

Nobody bore witness to that incident. 

Yet Brain wondered if Pinky had sensed something was amiss, for he'd swept Brain into a gentle embrace even though Brain thought he'd calmed himself privately before leaving the West Wing. 

The crown was supposed to be a status symbol, a royal emblem that marked him as one of the highest authorities in France, a point of pride and honor and wealth. 

So why did wearing the crown make him feel like he'd never lost those awful horns? For years, he’d dreamed of wearing his crown and taking his rightful place on the throne, but now that the opportunity was finally available to him after being out of reach for so long, adorning the symbol of power only made him sick to his stomach. 

Something to ponder for later, even though he knew he couldn’t procrastinate on his uncertain future forever. But he needed to focus on his current task of helping Pinky’s father set up a new workshop in a spare room where he could invent and innovate to his heart’s content. 

He still didn’t know where he stood with the older mouse, though he figured Pinky must’ve vouched for him at some point. Apologizing for his earlier cruelty had been one of the hardest things he’d done in his life, though it was necessary to pave the way for a fresh start. 

Pinky's father had accepted Brain's apology without a full interrogation, simply trusting his son's word alone. Though Brain had been prepared for suspicion, disbelief, and hesitance, he hadn't been prepared for the elderly mouse's embrace at all. 

Then Pinky and Pharfignewton eagerly joined in, and before Brain knew it, he was accepted into their family, just like that. 

Why they'd want someone who'd been an utter failure and embarrassment for the royal family, he would never know.

He hadn't earned this position. He didn't know how to be part of a family. It was a kind offer, but he wasn't sure if he could accept it. 

I need to prove myself. I need to be worthy of them. 

Setting his sights on a workbench that needed to be moved across the room, Brain decided that for once, he could exercise his beastly strength in a productive manner and haul the workbench into its proper place. 

He gripped a wooden beam on the underside of the workbench, then lifted. 

But it was heavier than he anticipated, and he could only lift it a few centimeters before he was forced to let go.

He waited several seconds before trying again, his muscles straining under pressure. But the workbench only scraped an inch along the ground. He hadn't made any progress. 

Frustrated, Brain changed his angle of approach and lifted again, trying not to scream from frustration. As his hand slid along the underside of the workbench, a sharp pain sliced through his left palm. 

He yelped, immediately dropping the workbench with a loud thud. When he glanced at his stinging palm, he saw a long, shallow cut in the middle. While the area was a bright, angry red, there was only a tiny amount of blood. 

It throbbed, but compared to his transformation into a beast and the wound he'd suffered when Snowball literally stabbed him in the back, it was nothing. 

He couldn't waste time staring at it. He needed to get back to work, though he could feel Pinky's disapproving gaze on his back. He'd deal with that issue later. 

For now, the workbench needed to be moved. 

But before he could make another attempt, a hand fell onto his shoulder. Startled that he'd allowed someone to sneak up so easily from behind again, Brain whirled around. 

He needed to watch his back better. He couldn't be caught off-guard, couldn't be rendered weak, couldn't let teardrops fall like rain from sky-blue eyes without being able to comfort him…

"You alright, son? That cut probably stings like a honeybee.” 

It was only Pinky’s fath-Jack, Brain reminded himself. He’d said it was alright to call him Jack, though Brain still wasn’t sure about being on a first-name basis with somebody he’d once imprisoned and thrown out of the castle. 

He steadied Brain’s hand for a closer look at the cut, and Brain reeled back from the sudden physical contact. For some reason, Jack had taken to calling him ‘son’, which Brain’s own father would never say if his life depended on it. 

Brain didn’t have the heart to say anything against the nickname, awkward as it was.  

“...it’s nothing,” Brain said, quickly pulling away. “I’ve had worse than this. I should get back to-” 

His current injury was nothing compared to being mortally wounded. It didn’t bear consideration. 

But Jack crossed his arms, giving him such a stern glare that heavily reminded Brain of the scolding Pinky had given him when he’d been stubborn about receiving medical treatment for his wolf scratches. 

Like father, like son. Brain wasn’t capable of winning this argument. He wasn’t happy that he lost, but it was better to admit defeat now than face a stern lecture from Jack, Pinky, and Hello Nurse later. 

“On second thought, I’ll search for Hello Nurse,” he said reluctantly. Jack’s stern expression was replaced by one of satisfaction. 

Though Brain didn’t want to leave the work unfinished, he knew Jack wouldn’t let him move anything else until his cut was treated. 

“I’ll walk with you,” Jack offered. “We’ve been setting up the workshop all afternoon. I think we more than earned a break. Besides, Pinky keeps fussing at me to get my head out of a machine and into some fresh air." 

He chuckled good-naturedly, and Brain managed a weak 'ha', still trying to get used to Jack's brand of humor. 

As they stepped out of the workshop, Brain shielded his eyes from the sunlight streaming in from the arched windows. After living in wintry darkness for so long, the advent of springtime had come at last. 

But sometimes he wondered if he'd woken up in somebody else's castle. The walls were a shining ivory, not a drab gray. The once fearsome gargoyles were now angelic creatures, protecting the halls, turrets, and roofs. Water no longer dripped from the cobweb-free ceiling, and any damage dealt from disrepair over the years had been repaired. 

Strangely, Brain found that he missed the gargoyles, especially Goliath, who'd been his personal favorite statue. Once the castle settled into all its new changes, perhaps he could hire an artist to create some new gargoyles. 

The halls were filled with the chatter and laughter of servants as they performed their daily tasks. Maids swept, dusted, and polished the furniture while giggling as they secretly peered over their shoulders at a broad-shouldered, sandy-haired guard, who moved stiffly as if he was still a suit of armor. 

He was an older, experienced knight, with an air of decorum about him. All of the younger knights deferred to him when they weren’t getting orders directly from Brain. As such, he was one to observe the traditional ways. 

Unfortunately, his name completely escaped Brain. The head knight and the other suits of armor all had strikingly similar appearances under the curse, and the only difference had been their choice of weaponry. 

“Good afternoon, your Highness,” the knight said, formally bowing in respect to Brain’s former title. Though his expression was neutral, he couldn’t completely hide his grimace nor the stiffness of his bow. “Good afternoon, Monsieur Jack.” 

“Just call me plain ol’ Jack,” Jack chuckled. “Monsieur Jack was my great uncle twice removed’s name.” 

Brain only stared at the knight. Once, Brain would’ve been pleased to have his power as a prince recognized, but now, he just felt more out of place than ever before. What sort of prince shied away from their own crown? 

When the knight didn’t move out of his bowed position, even though maintaining it for that long wasn’t comfortable, Brain finally remembered that one of a lower caste had to maintain their position until someone of higher birth acknowledged them. Failing to do so was an enormous breach in etiquette.  

It was one of the customs that had fallen to the wayside over the years. 

“What was your name again?” was what came out of Brain’s mouth instead of a formal greeting. 

“Mathias,” the knight replied. 

Brain rubbed his arm awkwardly. “Mathias. Right…” he murmured to himself. He’d have to ask Pinky how he remembered all the servants’ names. Mathias still didn’t move, dutifully awaiting orders. “Um, you may rise. Anything to report?” 

Mathias finally rose to his full height. “The Warners are currently rehearsing a musical number about the Battle of Hastings in a spare room on the third floor. Not to worry, your Highness. I’ve made sure they’re using harmless training weapons. I have nothing else to report.” 

Hopefully, the ceiling would be left intact by the time the Warners were finished.

“Those children have quite the harmony,” Jack smiled. “Their little ditty about the five senses is still stuck in my head.” 

But it wasn’t the Warners that Brain wanted. “Mathias, have you seen Hello Nurse? There was an…incident while Jack and I were setting up the workshop.” 

“She’s currently grinding herbs in the small dining room by the kitchen. Pinky is helping her,” Mathias replied. 

Pinky? 

Brain stared down at the cut on his hand. As much as his heart warmed at the mere mention of Pinky’s name, he’d also hoped to have his injury evaluated and bandaged by Hello Nurse before seeing him.

Several days ago, Brain had tried to climb onto a couch in the library, not realizing that it was harder to scale furniture without claws, when he miscalculated and fell onto his back. Though it knocked the wind out of him, he’d landed on the soft, fuzzy rug, and once the initial shock subsided, he wasn’t hurt. 

There was a haunted look in Pinky’s eyes as he gathered Brain in his arms and held him close that night. His smile hadn’t reached his eyes, and every sentence he uttered was peppered with zorts for hours. 

Though Brain tried to coax the reason behind Pinky’s strange behavior out of him, Pinky had evaded all his questions. Though Brain was frustrated that Pinky wouldn’t tell him the truth, he knew it would just be hypocritical to become angry when he was keeping secrets too. 

Why were both of them still keeping secrets after all they’d been through? Even when the curse was broken, even when they’d finally achieved happiness, even when they…loved each other. 

Brain was tired of secrets. 

A cough from Jack drew him out of his thoughts, and he realized that Mathias was still waiting for permission to take his leave. 

“You may go,” Brain said. “And…thank you for your report.” 

Mathias bowed again, continuing down the hallway on his solo patrol. Brain watched him leave, mostly as a stall tactic so he could mentally prepare for Pinky’s reaction to this minor injury.  

“Pinky won’t bite,” Jack assured him. “But prepare yourself for one hundred extra hugs, just in case.” 

“Only one hundred? You underestimate your son,” Brain replied, and he couldn’t help but smile when Jack burst into laughter.  

o-o-o-o-o

“-that’s very good, Pinky. Why don’t you get started on grinding those herbs while I research the next step?” Hello Nurse said as she propped open a thick, heavy book. There were several parchment pages in front of her, alongside a set of quills and ink. 

“Narf! Okay, Hello Nurse!” Pinky exclaimed. He stood atop a stack of books, a pestle in his hands and a mortar full of herbs below him. He brought the pestle down, over and over, mashing the plants with enthusiasm. 

Brain stood in the doorway, transfixed at how the sunlight lit up Pinky’s entire body. Brain didn’t call out to him right away, content to watch Pinky in his mint green dress, tiny pink flowers swishing along the edge of his skirt as he grinded the herbs into paste.

All of his worries just seemed trivial now. 

“Ahem,” Jack deliberately coughed into his hand, finally drawing Pinky and Hello Nurse’s attention. “We’re not interrupting anything, are we?” 

Hello Nurse shook her head. “Of course no-” 

“BRAIN!” Pinky squealed at the top of his lungs, dropping the pestle as he ran towards Brain at full speed. He yelped as he tripped over the edge of the table and fell to the floor on his stomach. Brain winced, but Pinky simply shook off his ungraceful tumble and rushed towards Brain again, no worse for wear. “You have no idea how much I-narf! How much I missed you, Brain!” 

Brain braced himself as Pinky snatched him up, twirling him around before finally hugging him to his chest. Pinky’s high-pitched, happy trills rang in his ears, and once his grip loosened, Brain finally allowed himself to relax in his arms. 

“Calm yourself, Pinky,” Brain said. It took him a moment to remember that he needed to look up instead of down to meet Pinky’s eyes. One of the few perks about his former appearance was the added height, and it was something he missed dearly. But upon seeing Pinky’s smiling down at him, Brain shoved that insecurity to the back of his mind, returning the affection with a quick nuzzle. “You act like we haven’t seen each other in months rather than one afternoon.” 

“You know I can’t help it, Brain. I just really, really-” he paused, shifting Brain’s weight in his arms as he took Brain’s wrist in one hand, gasping when he spotted the long cut on the palm. Brain’s ears fell as Pinky’s smile vanished. “What happened?” 

This was exactly why Brain wanted Hello Nurse to look at his cut before he worried Pinky. 

“Just a minor accident while I was helping your father with the new workshop,” Brain tried to assure him, though in Pinky’s mind, this shallow cut was on the same level as the fatal wound he’d received not even a month ago. “I…um, I miscalculated the weight of a workbench. Jack wouldn’t let me continue until I had this cut checked.” 

He wasn’t ready to admit that he’d mistakenly believed he had his old strength and musculature. 

“Darn right,” Jack chimed in. “Took a little convincing though.” 

Pinky’s embrace was growing uncomfortably tight, so Brain broke away, his feet once again touching the floor. 

“Thanks for bringing him, Papa,” Pinky said. “I-I’ll just get some bandages and warm water, okay? Be right back!” 

He disappeared into the kitchen, loudly asking the staff to help him find everything he needed. 

Meanwhile, Hello Nurse picked up the mice and placed them onto the table. “It doesn’t hurt much. It’s already stopped bleeding,” Brain admitted to her, hoping that her levelheaded nature would relax Pinky once he came back. 

Hello Nurse glanced at his injury. “No splinters or glass?” she asked.

Brain shook his head. 

“Then it won’t need much,” she said, placing her quill back into the inkwell. “Just some water for cleaning and bandages. And Jack, have you been drinking your herbal tea every night?” 

“Pinky never lets me forget,” Jack replied. 

His health had taken a miraculous turn for the better once he’d become a permanent resident of the castle. The day after the curse broke, Pinky introduced Jack to Hello Nurse, and under her professional supervision, his health rapidly improved. Though they worried about his chronic cough, Pinky had privately admitted to Brain that he’d never seen his father thrive this much since his childhood.

Though Brain had offered a permanent place in the castle to every ally who helped defend the castle from the mob, Jack had been the only one to accept so he could remain close to his son. The others only stayed long enough to rest and recover from the chaos. Slappy Squirrel scoffed at castle life, preferring her more solitary lifestyle, and Skippy didn’t want to leave his aunt alone. Bugs Bunny proclaimed that he was happy with his nomadic band of troublemakers, much to the dismay of Daffy Duck, who’d taken several heavy mallets to the head after not-so-subtly implying that he wanted a generous amount of gold as repayment for his participation. 

Brain was fairly certain that Daffy stole a painting on his way out, but it really wasn’t worth pursuing. 

He and Pinky made it clear that they were always welcome to visit, though Bugs would have to keep Daffy on a tight leash so he didn’t rob the castle blind.   

"-and it looks like you've been rather busy yourself. What are all these plants for anyway?" Jack asked. He picked up a random leaf from a shallow bowl and licked it, his eyes widening as he sputtered and coughed, desperately licking his fur to rid his tongue of the taste. "Still tastes better than Slappy's creamed spinach casserole…" 

Hello Nurse moved the bowl out of reach. "I see where Pinky gets it from," she sighed. "Please don't lick the ingredients for my prototype elixir, Jack. I only have so much." 

There were detailed illustrations of various plants on the pages of Hello Nurse's book, along with small, loopy cursive handwriting that Brain couldn't make out. Though his literacy had vastly improved, there were certain formats he had issues with, especially when it came to cursive. 

Unfortunately, there were many historical documents, official laws and decrees, and scientific journals he couldn't read yet because authors were more concerned about using a fancy script to impress people rather than legibility. 

"What will your elixir do?" Brain asked. He was rather curious himself. 

"If all goes well, I'm hoping it'll be a cure-all for any illness," Hello Nurse replied. "From the common cold to consumption to smallpox, there won't be anything this elixir can't cure. Even a perpetual cough or-" she glanced at Brain, her confident voice wavering slightly. "-more severe injuries." 

An old ache flared along Brain's side, right where the dagger sank into his flesh. There was a mist in Hello Nurse's eyes as she glanced down at him. 

She'd served loyally since Brain's childhood, always ready to provide advice and a stern yet kind bedside manner. 

For the first time, Brain realized that Pinky wasn't the only one affected by his close brush with death. 

Was the entire castle mourning me? But…I brought the curse down on everyone. Maybe they were just mourning their lost humanity. 

“Your elixir…it’s a recent development, isn’t it?” Brain asked. 

“Well, I certainly couldn’t gather everything I needed as a harp,” Hello Nurse replied. “And Pinky’s been a huge help. I think he wants to see this elixir succeed just as much as me.” 

If Pinky believes this elixir can truly heal all ailments and injuries, including the most fatal wounds, I understand why he wants this to be a success so badly. 

Such an elixir would be an enormous undertaking. There was always a chance it could fail. 

But…there’s a chance they can succeed too. 

“You and Pinky are capable healers,” Brain admitted quietly. “So I’ll support your cause. If there’s anything you require aid with, like ingredients or funding, let me know. I wish you the best with your project.”  

He wanted to return all the support they showed him. 

“Thank you,” Hello Nurse said with a smile. “I’ll make a list of all the ingre-” 

She trailed off as the sound of a kitchen cart interrupted her. One of the maids pushed a cart full of medical supplies towards them, while Pinky sat atop the cart. The cart was stacked to the brim with scissors, stitches, several types of bandages, needles, towels, and three kettles of warm water along with several cups and thimbles. 

“I found everything!” Pinky proclaimed, hopping onto the table with a set of bandages in hand. The maid handed him the smallest pair of scissors on the cart, and Pinky quickly set to work on cutting the bandages. 

Hello Nurse, Brain, and Jack glanced at each other in worry. Once again, Pinky was going overboard with their supplies. 

Hello Nurse placed one kettle, the thimbles, and two towels on the table. “This is all we need, Eloise. If you wouldn’t mind returning everything else?” 

Eloise curtsied and wheeled the cart away. As she disappeared into the kitchen, Brain thought it was a rather strange sight that the cart couldn’t move by itself anymore. 

He jumped as a hand wrapped around his wrist, and even though it was only Pinky, it took him a moment to calm down. Pinky’s hand was bigger now, enveloping Brain’s the way his oversized paw used to. That was the strangest development of all. 

He’d forgotten how many times he tried to hold Pinky’s hand, only to find that he couldn’t fit the entirety of his hand within his own anymore. But Pinky’s hand felt exactly the same, always soft, warm, and comforting. 

Brain remained still as Pinky dabbed the cut with the damp towel, careful not to press too hard. He’d learned from the wolf incident that he could trust Pinky to patch him up, so he chose not to pull away like before. 

Then Pinky exchanged the damp towel for a fluffy one, gently drying Brain’s palm before wrapping the bandages around his hand. Brain tested his fingers, giving Pinky a tiny smile once he found that his movement wasn’t restricted. 

“Thanks, Pinky,” he said gratefully. 

That lifted Pinky’s mood. His sunny aura returned as he pressed Brain’s bandaged hand to his lips. Brain blushed as a tingling sensation entered his hand, traveling down his arm and spreading through his body. 

“There,” Pinky declared. “Now it’ll get better for sure!” 

“O-of course,” Brain stammered, his blush only worsening when Jack and Hello Nurse laughed. 

His hand would heal just fine, thanks to Pinky. 

o-o-o-o-o

Ever since the curse broke, dinner had become a noisy, chaotic affair. Since some were naturally early birds while others had to be dragged out of bed to begin their daily routines, everyone took their other meals at different times. 

But at six o'clock sharp, courtesy of Wakko's impeccable timekeeping skills that carried over from his time as a mantel clock, everyone dropped what they were doing to enjoy a delicious meal from Flavio and his kitchen staff.

After lacking the ability to eat for years, the servants all looked forward to this daily event. Pinky thrived in the lively environment too, laughing and chatting and shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. 

It was strange, how eating and drinking was such a vital part of life that Brain had taken for granted before. He was determined not to make that mistake again. 

The royal family and nobility would surely be horrified if they saw the lax and casual nature of dinnertime within these walls. Nobody of lower birth was allowed to dine with the elite. Their jobs were to cook, set the table, serve the food and wine, and clean up. Servants were not allowed to eat out in the open. Such a sight was considered highly improper and would be met with heavy punishment. They had to sneak their meals in the shadows, if they managed to fit them in at all with their busy schedules. 

And for the elite, dinner was a serious and somber time. Perfect posture, perfect etiquette, perfect diction, perfect…well, everything. 

Don’t slouch. Wipe that stupid grin off your face. Don’t use your dessert fork for the salad. Quit squirming. 

Brain used to believe that was how things were done, that he was powerless to change centuries of tradition, that even if it was nigh-impossible to adhere to the unwritten set of rules, he had to get as close to perfection as possible or he would bring shame down on everyone. 

As a Beast, he’d always taken his meals alone. Not from what custom dictated, but from the shame of somebody seeing him while he hunched over a plate and licked up its contents like a wild animal, because his claws and fangs made it difficult to hold utensils and get food into his mouth. 

He’d been so embarrassed to eat in front of Pinky at first, fearing that he would be disgusted by his atrocious table manners. But when he watched Pinky spill oatmeal all over himself and have a joyous time trying to lick it all off, that fear vanished. Pinky never shamed him for not having perfect etiquette. 

The grandfather clock chimed six, its golden pendulum swinging rhythmically in its glass case.

Despite the commotion outside the library as everyone rushed to the dining room, Brain didn't move just yet. After Pinky wrapped up his injury, Brain chose to retreat into the library to quietly unwind with a book. Pinky had gone upstairs to hang out with the Warners, kissing Brain's hand once again before they pursued separate activities for the time being. 

Brain had chosen Don Quixote, opting for something lighthearted, though more advanced than the simple fairy tales and romances he'd been reading with Pinky. 

Brain couldn't hold back his laughter as he turned the page, finally reaching the famous scene where Don Quixote foolishly attempted to fight a windmill. Maybe it was the whimsical nature of the book, or the artist's interpretation of the scene that was causing him to laugh, he didn't know. 

"HAHAHA! NARF!" 

A new voice joined in, and Brain jumped, caught off-guard by Pinky's sudden appearance. Had he really been so engrossed in his book that he never heard Pinky come in? 

"What are we laughing about, Brain?" Pinky asked with a wide, silly grin on his face. 

Leave it to Pinky to laugh at something without knowing what he was laughing about.

"Don Quixote is fighting a windmill," Brain said, blushing now that Pinky had caught him. 

He braced himself, waiting for Pinky to call him weird for laughing. 

But the hurtful words never came. 

"So is the coyote winning?" Pinky asked eagerly, peering at the illustration. 

“It’s pronounced Quixote, Pinky,” Brain replied, emphasizing the first syllable. “It’s a Spanish surname, and it doesn’t have anything to do with canines. And no, he isn’t winning. Now, if you’d kindly let me get back to this story-” 

But Pinky plopped himself between Brain and the book, blocking his view of the words. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.    

“One more chapter always turns into ten more with you, Brain! And then your stomach will be all rumbly and growly, and that’ll make you rumbly and growly too. Besides, I hear Flavio’s cooking something extra special tonight and you don’t wanna miss it! So…I order you to join me for dinner!" There was a teasing lilt in Pinky's voice, sky-blue eyes sparkling with mischief. 

Brain groaned, mortified at the reminder of that embarrassing tantrum he'd thrown on Pinky's first night in the castle. 

"Just one more chapter, Pinky," Brain said, trying to get back to his book, though Pinky wasn't having it. 

He leaned forward, tapping Brain's nose. "Join me for dinner," he repeated. 

"Not yet, Pinky. I'm getting to the good part," Brain said, peering over Pinky's shoulder to see the text. 

Pouting, Pinky pressed his face against Brain’s cheek. His fur was soft, warm, and fluffy, and Brain couldn’t resist leaning in, no matter how much he tried to concentrate on his book. 

“It would give me great pleasure,” Pinky hummed softly, his breath hitting Brain’s sensitive ear, and he had to grab it to stop the uncontrollable fluttering. 

Knowing that he’d never get back to the story of Don Quixote now, Brain decided to get back at Pinky by taking his time with his response. “Let me think…” he said, tapping his chin.  

"Pleeeeease?" 

Pinky’s eyes were as round and blue as a cloudless sky. Unable to say no to such an adoring gaze, Brain finally gave in. 

“Alright,” he agreed, and it was worth the delighted expression and kiss he received in return. 

o-o-o-o-o

Silver platters were laid out along the dining table, packed with dishes filled with fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, and desserts that would've made Marie Antoinette jealous at the abundance of it all. The air was filled with the clanking of spoons and forks against dishes, chatter, and chairs scraping the floor. 

Marita had finally convinced Flavio to dine with everyone else. The head chef kindly refused at first, saying that it wouldn't be proper, but when Pinky declared that Flavio deserved to enjoy his hard work alongside everyone else, the hippo had given in. Now he happily sat beside his wife, kissing her as she passed him a basket of bread rolls. 

Mindy's mouth and cheeks were covered in the mysterious gray stuff. Though Hello Nurse tried to coax her into eating peas, she was more interested in letting them roll onto the floor for Runt to snap up, who ate everything that fell onto the floor. Buttons was good at steering his fellow canine away from anything that was bad for him, and the pair soon tucked into plates of T-bone steak that an assistant chef laid on the floor for them. Rita shook her head at Runt's antics, swiping her tongue to lick up the cream around her muzzle before she daintily nibbled on a fish. 

The Goodfeathers pecked away at breadcrumbs and birdseed, Pesto loudly complaining that Squit sounded like a woodpecker whenever he ducked his head to eat. 

Meanwhile, all three Warners crammed as much cake as they could into their mouths, their plates filled to the brim with desserts, much to Dr. Scratchy's dismay. 

"I have had it up to here vith you puppy children!" Dr. Scratchy complained, placing his hand by his ear. 

Yakko tsked, crumbs of chocolate cake flying out of his mouth. "Only there?" he asked. "We'll aim higher next time. Right, sibs?" 

Wakko and Dot nodded eagerly. 

Dr. Scratchy groaned, slapping his forehead and dragging it down his face. "Vhy can't you put some fruits and veggies on your plates? You are all growing up and your bodies need the nutrition!" 

Yakko neatly wiped his lips with a napkin and sat up in his chair. "You know what, Scratchy? You're right." 

"He is?" Dot said in surprise. 

Wakko did a spit take, his mouth too full for him to speak coherently. 

"I am?" Dr. Scratchy said, equally shocked that Yakko was listening to him. 

Yakko nodded, a serious expression on his face. 

"As the eldest Warner sibling, it is my sacred responsibility to set an example to these poor, impressionable children," Yakko replied. Wakko and Dot just blinked at him, not sure what he was getting at. "And that includes selecting the right food for a balanced, healthy diet." 

"Vell, it's good that you've finally voken up and seen the light-" 

"So in order to get our daily allotment of fruit…let's dig into this magnificent strawberry cheesecake!" Yakko cheered.

Wakko and Dot grinned and held out their already stuffed plates. Yakko served them each a generous helping of strawberry cheesecake before taking some for himself. 

"VHAT?" 

Yakko shrugged and devoured his dessert. "I promised to set an example. I never said it would be a good example." 

Defeated, Dr. Scratchy slumped into a chair. "Vhy do I even bother…" he murmured.

Because the entire castle was eating at once, there wasn’t enough room to sit at the main dining table. Many of the servants took their meals to other rooms and came back when they wanted more food. 

The atmosphere was warm and inviting, where everyone could take as much as they wanted. Everyone was relaxed, bright smiles on their faces as they feasted on delicious food. Nobody feared harsh punishment from simply trying to eat when they were hungry, or for speaking at all. 

Brain didn’t have the right to be part of such a happy environment after all the pain he caused everyone. Though he’d never heard anyone say it, the truth was that he didn’t deserve his servants, and especially not Pinky.

The taller mouse sat next to Brain, making delighted noises as he devoured a cheese souffle. 

“Papa, you have to try the souffle! It’s amazing, especially when you dip it into the gray stuff!” Pinky exclaimed.  

But Jack only fell onto his back, groaning as he rubbed his protruding stomach. “No more for me, Pinky. Ugh, I feel like I’m gonna burst…” 

Pinky laughed. 

Though it was a joyful sound, Brain could only think of how there had been a time when he’d selfishly locked that smile and laugh into a dark and lonely castle. He’d known how enormous and empty a castle could truly be, and he’d inflicted that same pain on Pinky. 

Against all odds, Pinky found something good in this godforsaken place and chose to stay. Brain had never heard Pinky say he regretted his decision. 

But there were many secrets about him that Pinky didn’t know. Brain didn’t blame him for his curiosity. Even if he was brimming with questions about Brain’s past, Pinky kept them to himself, not wanting to pry. 

Brain had been okay with that arrangement…until Pinky confided the truth about his mother’s death after the story of Cinderella reminded him of childhood. Death during childbirth, and the loss of both mother and infant, had been a difficult memory to reveal. It was not a subject broached so easily. Such a topic was best reserved for the closest friends and family. 

Yet Pinky had admitted all this to him, choosing to find comfort from a failure and a beast. 

And if Pinky wanted to entrust him with this knowledge, wanted to share his joy, sorrow, and fears with the unlikeliest of creatures…

…perhaps it was time to share his own story. 

He won’t love you anymore once he knows the truth. 

It wasn't just fear that kept him from blurting out everything. He'd had too many conflicting thoughts where he wanted to spill everything but decided against it because the risk of losing Pinky's friendship was too high. 

He'll know just how much of a failure you are. He'll see exactly why your parents abandoned you. 

His fork slipped out of his trembling hand, clattering onto his plate with a metallic thud that was quickly lost in the noisy room. He'd only eaten half his dinner, and didn't have the appetite for a second helping.

A warm hand cradled his cheek. 

Startled, Brain jerked away. Only to be met by worried blue eyes. 

"Are you alright, Brain?" Pinky asked, ears drooping with worry. 

Brain opened his mouth, yet no sound came out beyond a strangled gasp. His throat was closed and dry, and he couldn't form any coherent words. He was desperate for air, his chest aching from the effort to breathe. 

A small goblet filled with wine was pressed into his hands. 

"Drink. I promise it'll help," Pinky assured him. 

I promise. 

Pinky said the exact same phrase when Brain was lying in the snow, injured and barely conscious of his surroundings. 

Pinky didn't abandon me to the harsh winter when he had every reason to. I can trust him to keep his promise. 

The cool liquid slipped down his throat, loosening everything until he could finally speak again. 

"...thanks," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He leaned closer to Pinky, sipping his wine while Pinky gently rubbed his back. 

The motions were gentle and soothing, though they served as a reminder of what he would lose once the truth came out. 

But it didn't feel right either, keeping all these secrets.

"Come with me to the West Wing, Pinky," Brain said quietly. "There's…something I need to show you." 

Pinky glanced at Brain’s half-eaten plate. “Eat first,” he insisted. “You don’t want to miss out on the delicious food.” 

Brain hesitated, but when Pinky didn’t budge on his position, he slowly picked up his fork. He managed it without too much trouble, though it had taken him a few days to figure out how to hold the fork steady without spilling his food. 

“Saying important stuff isn’t good when your stomach’s empty,” Pinky said as he stood up. “I’ll get some cheesecake for both of us. Be right back!” 

Brain watched him skip away, eagerly saying hello to everyone he passed. Pinky didn’t realize the revelations that awaited him in the West Wing. 

Even if this changes how he sees me, Brain thought as he nervously nibbled on a bread roll, trying to follow Pinky’s request that he eat before their serious discussion. I’m going to tell him everything. 

[white-light-on-my-prism]

I was supposed to post this here a long time back but your b*tch procrastinated for ABSOLUTELY NO REASON!! Turns out when the motivation ain't throwing Cronald × Leo off its 'biggest footie ship on AO3' high-horse, I fail to feel any amount of urgency.

Exile.

A neymessi songfic

Read it here on AO3.

Fandom: Men's Football RPF

Pairing(s): Lionel Messi/Neymar, Lionel Messi/Antonela Roccuzzo (implied)

Additional tags: Angst, Pining, One shot, Prose poetry

Warnings: None.

Author's note: Uh... I'm sorry. That's all.

"I can see you standing, honey

With her arms around your body

Laughing, but the joke's not funny at all..."

Neymar had never put much stock in the inner workings of the colour white. He could vaguely recall from sixth standard, learning something about white light falling on a prism and exploding in rainbow hues. Neither was he the one for academics, nor was his family the one for rainbows, so all he had known, all he had ever seen with those iridescent eyes of his, was life in black and white. The patterns on his childhood football, the one true love of his life, were drawn in the same twin colours. Then why was he, in that one wretched evening, finding the same opposing tints holding his throat so brutally to a knife?

The 30th of June, 2017.

He had anticipated with dread, the movie that awaiting him, since the day he had received his invite. Yet, in this theatre house of reality, he felt the walls closing in, the ground beneath his feet giving away as he watched the bride in white and groom in black floating cursively towards each other. Their union evoked a mix of emotions he never knew he was capable of feeling. He had never before craved the rainbow as much as he did then, the silhouette of his Leãozinho embracing another felt like Karma to him for ignoring physics lessons back in his salad days. He failed to be the prism. He tried to be the sun to his beloved's moon, but alas, the moon loved and longed for another star. To him, Leo was still the universe, the whole sky. His Leo. But, to say 'his', did he no longer have the right?

"And it took you five whole minutes

To pack us up and leave me with it

Holding all this love out here in the hall."

The woman who could rightfully assert claim on his love was more perfect than he thought mere mortals could be. Certainly much more perfect than him. A brighter celestial, from another world, just as his love has always been. "They deserve each other," he told himself, but the heart seldom caved to statements of the mind. What of his heart and mind anyway, his soul would always lie with the one that wouldn't be his, so devoid of spirit he'd have to die. Existing through the rest of his days, lacking lustre, lacking life. The black bespoke adorning the groom spoke of dark clouds that would fly, treacherously veiling the luminous ivory flowing out of his full moon night. He knew it won't be back in twenty-nine days, for marriage was a vow for life. He'd have to live in a forever's lunar eclipse, his darling would only kiss the bride.

So he ran. As far as his legs would take him. They said he was a prince without a crown, his Little Lion being the ruler of his land. They said he should leave, he always rebelled. His caregivers, dear, told him to take off to a grander palace with an empty throne. He had fought to stay, for in gazing at the king with awe he had found his home. No more. The monarch had forsaken his most devoted subject. Why? Perhaps, deep down, he knew, only a true lady could be queen. She had it all! A serene presence, to his chaos, the calm diligence to his impulsive thoughts. She was the ultimate prize. And the one on whom he wished every happiness had her to keep by his side. Why stay?

He flew, therefore, through time, through space, and gave in to what they all said. "I want to leave, father, I'm not happy here" — he made sure the whole world knew. His parting words: "Leo, know that I'm happy for you." He packed all his darkness in a mighty big bag. All the trouble he brings, all his disorderly things, that in his mind made his king choose her over him. He left, halfway across the earth, so far astray; leaving his hometown stranded on his heart breaker's happiest day.

"I'm not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

You were my crown

Now I'm in exile, seeing you out

I think I've seen this film before...

So I'm leaving out the side door."

[bvnnichu]

✮ 『 𝐄𝐌𝐈 』 19 . virgo . ( she/her ) . multifandom + nsfw blog — mdni . not spoiler free . slow replies / answers . huge procrastinator . mostly semi-inactive . best viewed in light / dark mode

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✮ 『 note 』 I swear I'm working on all the requests little by little they're just taking wayyy longer than I anticipated :(