#i will find them or they will find me and perhaps it will be a little awkward at first but that’s how you build relationships (and worlds)

[exhaled-spirals]

« When I think back on the year 1915, it seems to me that I still hear my friends tell me despondently: "I can't think of anything else! I can't read, I can't work, or find useful distractions (...), I only ruminate about our times, incessantly, until I'm nauseated (...). I've just had two hours of liberty—there was a time when I would have offered them to Tolstoy or Pascal. Today I read about [the war], or European colonial methods; issues that are entirely beyond my reach, but how to think of anything else?"

And perhaps we shouldn't strive to think of anything else; the point is not to turn our backs on our times, but to consider them calmly and thoughtfully. (...) It may be that the philosophy which absorbs you leaves no room for indulgence. Perhaps you feel yourself full of bitterness and rancour towards your fellow men, perhaps you have made up your mind to see in their activities nothing but greed and selfishness. (...) Do not be too eager to prove yourself right! Above everything, do not rejoice in being right in so dismal a fashion. (...) My only ambition is to beg the world to look for anything which can lighten the present and future distress of mankind, to find what interests the soul in a life burdened with troubles and disillusionments, to honour more than ever the faithful and imperishable resources of our inner life. (...)

The storm rages on, the events escalate, worsen, never cease. Never have they seemed more complex, more severe, more demanding. More dangerous. Wherever we turn, an opinion holds up its head and vehemently solicits our belief. (...) Our convictions, our certainties, are at each other's throats. (...) Yet mankind, even in these terrible hours, is only seeking happiness. Men have set off to conquer happiness, clutching in their hands the tools which will forever destroy it. (...) The wrong direction the world has taken is so obvious, so cruel, so vast (...)

Regardless, I would suggest not to lose hope—so long as a single wallflower still opens, in April, over the ruins of the world. Like algae, like mosses, like these laborious lichens which attach to the very ruins their infinite need for happiness, we will find joy in our present affliction and we will grow it, like a wind-battered plant in the parched soil of a wilted world. »

— Georges Duhamel, La Possession du monde (translation mine) Written in 1917 as he worked as an army surgeon.

[ellecdc]

Somehow I can see it being a tradition (as it was for my high school homecoming football game) that the partners of the quidditch team wear the alternate color jersey for big games

Cue Jamie and Sirius duking it out over whose number reader is going to wear

hahaha poor boys. thanks for the request!

poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader who can't choose between her boyfriends [558 words]

CW: mischief, the boys are pouting, Remus and reader being friendship goals

Remus told himself that in his next life, he would make sure to find friends who weren��t interested in competitive sports that would require him to sit outside in inclement weather to cheer them on.

Or perhaps he just wouldn’t make any friends at all. 

But then he saw you making your way over; eyes bright and smile wide as you waved at other students in the stands, and he knew he’d choose to be your friend in any next life too.

Damn witch, making him question all of his plans for possible reincarnation. 

“Rem! I brought something for you!” You shouted instead of saying hello once you made it to him, wasting no time in pulling a thick throw from your bag and blanketing it over his lap. 

“Y/N you beautiful, beautiful witch. If you weren’t taken two times over, I’d kiss you right on the mouth.” He proclaimed as he lifted an edge of the blanket for you to sit under as well.

It wasn’t polite of him; he was only doing it at the possibility of getting to share your body heat.

“You know what, Remus?” You said then as you jostled your shoulder against his. “If you weren’t taken as well, I’d kiss ya right back.” 

The two of you chuckled as the Gryffindor team filed out of the locker room before taking flight on their brooms, but Remus couldn’t help but notice that both Sirius and James - for as eager as they’d been this morning at breakfast for today’s game against ‘those slytherin gits’ - seemed rather melancholy. 

“Uh oh,” Remus murmured, “what’s going on with the captain and his favourite beater?”

You let out a snort, but Lily was the one to respond as she came to sit on your other side. 

“Lover’s quarrel in the locker room?” 

“No,” You sighed around a laugh, “they’re mad at me.”

“You?!” Lily and Remus chorused incredulously. 

You laughed again as you tried to wave at your two boyfriends; one simply scowled at you half-heartedly and the other offered you a rather pitiful wave in response.

“They were arguing over whose jersey I was going to wear today.” 

Lily and Remus shared a look of bemusement over your head as they looked back over to the team; Sirius and James splitting their time glaring at one another and looking longingly over at you.

“But, they both seem upset?” Lily asked cautiously.

“Right.” You agreed simply.

“Well?” Remus asked then. “Which one of their jersey’s did you wear?” 

“Neither.”

Another look was shared between Lily and Remus, ensuring the other could also see the red and gold jersey clearly donned beneath your jacket.

“Then whose jersey are you wearing?”

“Hey there, gorgeous!” They heard called from the pitch, both Lily and Remus turning to see Marlene waving enthusiastically at you and shooting you a cheeky wink. 

“Y/N!” Lily and Remus chorused again.

“What!?” You laughed, waving at Marlene and blowing kisses to your two pouting boyfriends. “It’s not like Meadows can wear her extra jersey! She plays for the other team!”

“You’re a minx.” Remus chided, though he felt a certain pride bloom in his chest for his friend, which Lily aptly expressed.

“Only fitting that two of the most mischievous blokes find themselves a girlfriend who can keep up with them.” 

Very fitting, indeed.

[savagelysarcasticsilence]

As a fellow autistic with ADHD, i too would very much like to receive any of these gifts. I do not want a fidget spinner, I find weighted blankets suffocating and claustrophobic. If you give me a stuffed animal like I am 10 years old, I will be giving it to my dog, because I do not want it, and then taking it off my dog 10 to 30 minutes later before he can eat too much of the stuffing. Do not give me a train, I have no interest in them, and for gods' sakes don't ask me to do maths.

One quick note though, if you are going to give someone an albino elephant, it must be in conjunction with the 14 billion dollars or a legally binding contract promising you will pay for the elephant's upkeep, cause otherwise that very quickly becomes a shitty gift, as soon as the novelty wears off and perhaps sooner.

Also, this is not to have go at people with autism and ADHD who like weighted blankets or fidget spinners or trains or soft toys, I'm sure there are plenty who do, I just find the infantilising assumptions and stereotypes applied to us by neurotypicals enraging.

Also I think rice would be good cooked or uncooked, because rice is just good, actually just cooking rice where I can smell it would be a good gift, nothing more comforting than hovering over your rice cooker to smell the delicious steam.

Saw a thread on Twitter of "gifts to give a person with ADHD and autism" that was full of stereotypical and quite frankly patronizing items, so here's a list of I (autistic individual) want instead as a gift

Money

Fourteen billion dollars

Free coupon to kill somebody with my teeth

Suitcase full of money

Cool looking rock

Scratching post for me to sink my claws into

An albino elephant

The head of Jeff Bezos mounted on my wall

Uncooked rice

A cup full of blood

100k in cash

[reallyromealone]

Hi! Just sending in this ask before I forget my idea, dont answer this until your asks are open again I just want to write this down before I forget!! Boten x single father! male reader, reader works at a restaurant and Boten comes in one night and Mikey takes a liking to him, his daughter sits in the staff room and draws/plays because she’s too young to be home alone- 🦇 anon

Title: cute waiter

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: bonten

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Mikey x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, single dad reader, fluff, nameless daughter, Mikey has that weird ass rizz as the kids say

Notes:

Summary: bonten goes to a small restaurant while in town for business and Mikey falls for the cute waiter.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

(Name) Could never thank his boss enough for letting (daughters name) stay in the office, the elderly woman finding the toddlers company pleasant while she worked on scheduling and order's.

"(Name), could you cover booth three? I have to talk to (boss name) about the schedule" (name) looked to his co-worker who managed the hardest puppy eyes he could "fine, but you owe me"

"Thank you!"

(Name) Never knew what to expect at the small restaurant, typically it was the locals in the small town but sometimes some rich people came in and even foreigners which was a gamble on how the experience would go.

Usually they were nice though.

"Hello! Could I get you gentlemen started with water or perhaps the chef's choice of wine?" (Name) Said happily to the group who sized him up, the man in the middle just staring him down with cold blackened eyes but (name) just continued smiling and even making eye contact with them.

Blissfully unaware of who they were or what their tattoos meant.

"We will start with the finest wine you have" the white haired man with snake like eyes said simply, his rings shining under the warm lights "of course! I will be back momentarily with your wine, gentlemen" and with that (name) turned and left, bonten not missing Mikey's curious look and the lock on to the waiters ass. They all exchanged glances while their boss just ate his snacks, flipping to the dessert menu to see they had the good stuff.

(Name) Returned moments later and filled their glasses, Mikey freezing when the waiter got close to him and the white haired man could smell the others cologne faintly and nearly shoved his face into the poor man's neck if it wasn't for his self control "so tell us about yourself, Mr waiter ~" ran was going to do his boss a favor, knowing Mikey had the romantic abilities of a snail. "Ah, what would you like to know?" (Name) Was so easy going, care free "you in school?" "You single?" "You know how to bake?"

(Name) Was a bit startled by the questions but didn't see the harm "I'm not, I graduated last year, I am single and I do know how to bake, yes" (name) laughed a bit at the questions "now, what can I get you gentlemen?" Changing the topic to get to business and not have these attractive men ask every detail of his life.

Of course they ordered the nicest things on the menu, it was going to be a pricy bill no doubt but (name) wasted no time getting their order before his coworker took over his table for his break and hang out with his tot. (Name) Brought in dinner for the two, free food from the restaurant and (daughters name) got cute rice balls shaped like hearts and for dessert she got taiyaki shaped like stars and filled with custard.

"Wow you drew this?" (Name) Cheered on his kid who beamed, the owner who became their grandmother of sorts always splurged on the good coloring supplies for the little girl and finding some cute toys for the office so she's never bored.

"Why don't we show the team, yeah?" (Name) Asked the little one who bounced a little, clearly happy at the idea "let's go!" Holding his little girls hand, the restaurant was nearly dead save for the group of eight who were furious that (name) was changed out for another person but Mikeys anger quickly melted when he saw the tiny version of (name) waddle towards the elderly owner who was rolling cutlery.

"My!" She cooed and lifted the little girl up "you're so talented!"

Mikey and (name) locked eyes, the waiter offering a sweet smile and Mikey's face dusted red, (name) didn't miss the stares and the blushes on the pale man, knowing damn well the awkward blond thought he was attractive "you enjoy your meal?" (Name) Asked him casually, the blond composing himself "yeah..." His words simply and short, never the one for small talk "that your kid?"

"Ah, yeah... She's too young to be alone and my boss practically helped raise me as a teen so she just hangs here"

Mikey nodded and looked over (name) who caught his stare "would you like to go out sometime?" (Name) Thought the blond was cute, even if he barely spoke and just stared ominously.

Mikey froze, usually it was him doing that "you don't know who we are, do you?"

"...models...?" (Name) Said confused, unsure of his answer and Mikey just stared back at the man "what? Used to people not recognizing you?"

"Something like that"

"Well I hope to get to know you better, I have to get my rugrat in for her nap but I'll be back soon yeah"

Mikey never felt so complacent, nodding and even letting (name) kiss his cheek gently before going to get his daughter.

[earthrealsvn]

taking care of you when you're drunk

in which the Haikyuu!! pretty setter squad take care of you during/after a night of drinking.

category: post time-skip!!! (except Suga bc that’s a college!au), fluff, crack

warning(s): mentions/use of alcohol, vomiting in Akaashi’s, perhaps Suga’s and Kageyama’s could be seen as suggestive at parts but i promise they’re not meant to be

w.c: 3.5k all together

a/n: hello! i haven't posted in forever but don't perceive that. most of these are based off of things i’ve said and/or done, except i didn’t have a partner to care for me during or afterwards. as stated above, this is post time skip, aside from Suga’s which is a college!au, so all the boys are a legal age to drink. anyways, enjoy the boys taking care of a drunk reader!

—

Sugawara Koshi

you laugh as you nearly tip over on your way to the bathroom, the sound of your friends cheering behind you ringing in your ears. you had all just started your last year of college and decided that it was worth celebrating. so, you offered up your apartment for the night, fully intent on having a good time before stress came to kick your ass.

another laugh bubbles in your throat as you misstep, landing on what was thankfully your bed. though now, your predicament is how you were to get back up. you give it two attempts and whine when you’re unsuccessful. it shouldn’t be that hard to stand, you do it all the time! planting your feet on the floor, another try is made, but you’re still incapable. tears spring into your eyes despite the fading rational part of you knowing it’s really not something to cry over. the drunken majority of you, though, is ready to throw a full-on fit.

but before you can even make a sound, someone’s taking your hands in theirs and gently pulling you to your feet. a stupid grin makes its way onto your face when you realize it’s your boyfriend, Sugawara Koshi.

“Ko!” you squeal, throwing your arms around his torso and squeezing. his laugh is as gentle as his return of the hug, but the teasing undertone is obvious. “didn’t think you’d show.” the words are muffled due to your cheek being squished into his chest.

“i got off early enough, so i figured i’d come see what my baby is up to.” his lips press themselves to the crown of your head to lay a brief kiss before he’s pulling away. “why were you on your bed instead of having fun, hm?”

you gasp when your original quest is remembered. “had to pee.” you begin a definitely not straight line towards your bathroom, laughing. you nearly slammed your hip into your nightstand along the way, but Suga’s hands placed themselves on your waist, guiding you the rest of the way to your destination.

there’s a brief fumble for the lightswitch until your bathroom light turns on, Suga having pressed it before you. he closes the door to give some privacy whilst you take care of your business, and you appreciate it until you come across a hurdle.

“hey Ko?” he hums from the other side of the door. “i can’t unbutton my pants.”

he can’t stop his laugh, and it only increases at your impatient whine. he steps through the doorway and tugs you closer, deft fingers unbuttoning your pants for you. he steps out again afterwards, letting you relieve your bladder in peace.

“can you button them by yourself?” he asks once the sound of the sink goes off and you groan at his teasing. he gets his answer once you open the door, pants already taken care of. “good job, sweetheart.” he coos, cupping your face and squishing your cheeks.

“shut,” you don’t even finish the rest of your sentence as you pull away and toddle back to the living room. he follows behind, hands hovering above your hips just in case drunk you decides to take another tumble.

“hey, Y/N, we’re taking shots!” your friend shouts from the kitchen and you squeak in delight. the silver-haired male walks into the kitchen with you to find your friends gathered at the counter with the shot glasses in front of them. “you want your favorite?” you nod in response, leaning against Suga in order to have some support.

as the shots are being poured, a noise of realization leaves you. “oh, Ko, you should take some too!” your head tilts back to look at your boyfriend, a drunken grin on your face.

“alright, but not too many.” he agrees, pecking your forehead.

“lame,” you laugh and an endearing smile plays on his lips as he stares down at you.

“well, someone has to make sure you don’t die,” a hand comes up to pinch your cheek and you shriek, trying to pull it off. you’re unsuccessful, obviously; you don’t have much strength when drunk and Suga still has all of his slight muscles from high school volleyball and working out regularly.

you still accept the shot glass he gives you, though, and a friend gives a half-assed toast and a countdown before everyone knocks their shots back, the familiar tingle of alcohol sliding down your throat. you also don’t protest the water Suga raises to your lips afterwards either, taking a few sips to help neutralize the taste.

it’s midnight but Suga knows the party’s just begun.

—

Oikawa Tooru

“i’m on the floor,” you mutter out once more, head falling against the wood of the island. “‘m drunk ‘n on the floor.”

“yes, you are drunk and on the floor, sweetie.” the familiar hands of Oikawa Tooru, your boyfriend, settle in your hair and massage at your scalp. a happy hum leaves your throat and you raise your heavy head to smile at what you think is his direction.

“‘s’all blurry,” drunken laughter laces your words and Oikawa can only shake his head endearingly. “wanna nap.”

he barely manages to catch you as you topple over sideways, body desperately trying to meet the ground. the rest of your friends laugh at your antics and Iwaizumi gives Oikawa a shit-eating grin. everyone knows you’ve drank too much too fast, but your week leading up to the New Year’s party had been stressful and you wanted to forget. so now, here you were, collapsed in your boyfriends’ arms, too intoxicated to do much.

“do you wanna move to the couch, sweetie?” your boyfriend asks, hand rubbing your side. he has to lean in to catch your mumbled response, but he’s able to detect the agreement. “okay, i’m gonna lift you now, alright?”

“uh-huh.”

he lifts you up into a princess carry and makes his way to the couch. as soon as your back meets the cushions and Oikawa’s arms move, you snuggle yourself onto your side, barely able to remember that laying on your back drunk could kill you if you start puking. your boyfriend settles himself onto the floor in front of you and pulls out his phone. he starts to scroll through social media but is quickly distracted by the incessant poking at his shoulder your fingers are doing.

“can i help you?” he raises a brow as he turns to face you, holding back a coo at the sight of your squished face.

“wanna watch—” the rest of your sentence is mumbled but Oikawa figures you’re wanting to watch your favorite show. he decides it’s better to entertain you than have a drunken partner complaining at him for however long. so he obliges, switching to the streaming service and holding the phone where you can see it comfortably.

a delighted laugh slips out of your mouth and the hand that was poking him falls limp onto his arm, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his sweater.

as you watch the show, he watches you, internally hoping you don’t throw up on him you’re sober enough for a New Year’s kiss.

—

Kenma Kozume

your panicked yells cause Kenma’s eyes to leave his game and travel up to you, the spike of concern diminishing as soon as he realized why you were making said noises. in your current round of Just Dance, you’re barely able to keep up with the moves showing on the screen, body tilting dangerously to the right. the friend that’s joining you is doing better in terms of score, but they’re practically in your space, nearly punching you every time they move their arm.

the cat-like boy shakes his head with a sigh and returns to his game, determined to finally beat the boss that’s been killing him all month. he’s so focused on the battle that he doesn’t realize your round is done until someone drapes their body over his, distracting him enough to lose. eye twitching, he turns to yell at them only to see a large, stupid grin on your face.

“Kyanma, come dance with me!” you exclaim through hiccups.

“i don’t want to. i’m trying to beat this—” he starts to turn back to his handheld but stops at the sound of your voice.

“you— don’t you love me?” tears spring to your eyes and Kenma whips his head back around to look at you again. “i love you Kenma, i want you to dance with me!” you’re wailing now and Kenma panics, setting his handheld down so he can pat your head. it doesn’t quite work, however, and the sound of your cries are drawing attention.

“Y/N,” Kenma sighs and takes your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “i’ll dance with you after this boss, okay puddin’?”

sniffling, you quiet down before hiccuping again, “promise?”

“promise,” he agrees, pulling your face closer in order to press a kiss to your forehead. “just give me a few minutes.”

he lifts his handheld back up and returns to his last save before the boss, once again determined to win. from beside him, you wipe your nose on your sleeve (something you can only stand to do when you’re drunk, he’s noticed) and fit yourself into his side to watch. just before entering the battle zone, Kenma glances around to see if anyone’s watching before tucking you under his arms and into his chest, ignoring your giggle of delight.

as the battle goes on, he lets you babble drunken advice, laughing quietly if he finds it funny. you cheer when he lands hits and gasp when his character takes damage, hands clinging to his sleeves in excitement. although he’s ultimately focused more on the game, he still gives you fleeting kisses on your head.

when he finally wins, you applaud him before bouncing up, tugging on his arm to get him to stand. he makes sure he saves before turning the device off and stands up to follow you to the center of the living room. you hand him a controller with a beam while your friend bounces up to join. just before you select the song, Kenma silently sighs to himself.

he hates doing too much physical activity, especially things he doesn’t enjoy doing, but he loves you too much to say no.

—

Tobio Kageyama

a sigh and a “oi, stop squirming!” echoes in your ears as Kageyama tries to help you change. he’s been trying to get you into pajamas for the past three minutes, but you’re making it difficult by moving every time he reaches out to remove your clothes.

“but Tobio, it tickles!” a whine is laced into your words, feet kicking lightly.

“grin and bear it then, idiot. you can’t wear this to bed.”

“watch me you a—” you don’t get to finish your sentence as Kageyama lightly pins you down, forcing your clothes off you and tugging on your pajamas right after. “Tobio!”

he grunts in response, tossing your clothes into the laundry basket. you continue to pout and whine as he lifts you off the bed so he can carry you to the bathroom, setting you on the counter. he prepares your toothbrush and turns back to you, offering a ‘open’ as he holds it to your lips. although a part of you wants to refuse, you’re starting to get sleepy, so you oblige, letting him gently brush your teeth, spitting out the toothpaste when told.

you fall in and out of sleep as he goes through your night routine, and the next time you fully come to, he’s lifting you again to bring you to bed. you hum contentedly, grinning at him when he places you back onto your bed. he returns it with a rare smile that he reserves for you and gets under the covers on his side. he lets you find a position that won’t be uncomfortable for your drunk self before he lays with you. it’s quiet for a while, the two of you taking in the comfortable silence until you speak up.

“i’m gonna be so fucking hungover tomorrow.”

beside you, Kageyama snorts, “yeah, you had way too much,” his hand pats your head, “but i’ll take care of you, i suppose. make you some eggs or avocado toast or something.”

“you can barely cook. you burnt water.”

“that was one damn time!” he snapped, giving you a squeeze, “you distracted me!”

“whatever. jus’ don’t mess up my breakfast,”

“i won’t, dumbass. i love you,” you feel his lips on the top of your head and you finally succumb to sleep.

—

Akaashi Keiji

you dart up from your comfortable position on the couch, hand clamping over your mouth. everything is still blurry and your head is pounding, but the need to throw up is fast approaching in your throat.

“Keiji! Keiji i need—” you pause to breathe, hearing rushed footsteps as your boyfriend pops into view from the kitchen.

“darling? what’s wrong?”

“bucket,” you mutter, hand returning to your mouth. thankfully, Akaashi is a quick thinker, and he realizes what’s going on. turning back to the kitchen, he cringes when he realizes the only thing large enough is the freshly washed popcorn bowl. biting his lip, he tries to find something else, anything else, but your whine has him snatching the bowl and running to you.

he gets there in the nick of time, and you lean over the bowl as everything you’ve just ate and drank came out. he rubs your back in comfort but ultimately isn’t too surprised — you drank a lot without the ideal amount of food in your body.

“ew,” you lift your head and Akaashi moves the bowl to the ottoman in front of you in case it’s needed again. “Keiji, why does alcohol tase funny?”

“i don’t know, love,” he sits next to you as he replies, letting your body fall onto his lap. he knows it probably won’t do much, but he places his hand on your stomach and gives it little rubs, hoping it can at least supply comfort.

your friend rounds the corner and lets out a whistle upon seeing the bowl. you hiss and flip them off tiredly, trying to sleep it off.

“how long do you think they’ll be like this?” your friend asks.

“i’m hoping it’s just for two to three hours, any more and i’ll be concerned.”

“well… they really went for it so i’m just hoping they don’t die.”

a huff of agreement comes from Akaashi. before he can say anything else, you’re launching yourself back up and hunching over the bowl. your friend audibly cringes and returns to the party in the kitchen whilst Akaashi resumes rubbing your back. both of you know that this is the last thing either of you want to be doing at a birthday party, especially the one for a specific owl lookalike.

thinking back to how smashed Bokuto is, though, Akaashi doesn’t think he’ll mind if the two of you are missing for a few hours while you spill your guts into your popcorn bowl.

“i think… i think i want a… a new popcorn bowl Keiji,” you pant as you settle back onto his lap. he feels bad, but he can’t help the grin on his face at how small you look and act right now.

“yeah?”

“mhm. don’t wanna think of puke whenever i eat some.”

“understandable,” Akaashi leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. when he sits up fully again, he mentally prepares himself for the next few hours of your misery.

when you next sit up to vomit, Akaashi is there to rub your back. he’s thinking it might not be so bad until a shout from the kitchen has him groaning.

“hey hey HEY, Akaashi! i threw up, man!”

—

Atsumu Miya

you stared blankly at Atsumu as he doubled over laughing, slapping his thigh repeatedly. on the other hand, you had no idea what he found funny enough to cry over.

“why are you laughing? it’s true!” you give his side a gentle kick while carefully trying to avoid spilling your alcoholic beverage.

“yeah, but yer so honest ‘bout it, babe,” he chuckles and grins at you, “yer gonna make me choke or something.”

“good.” you grumble before chugging the rest of your drink. “but really, it’s not my fault they’ve been annoying me recently.” and before Atsumu can laugh again, you whip your head around to glare at your friend.

it takes Atsumu a moment to realize you’ve said the last part loudly, and your friend definitely overheard. they stare back at you, equally as drunk and aggravated, and the blonde panics. it’s true that you and the friend you’re staring down have been on rocky terms with each other the past week or so, but doing something while drunk is the last thing your boyfriend wants you to do. there’s no chance of a physical altercation (neither you nor your friend can move correctly enough for that), but it doesn’t mean words won’t be said.

“oh, c’mon babe, ya don’t mean that.” Atsumu’s laughter is now uneasy as he takes your shoulders in his grasp, trying to turn you away.

“i’m pretty sure i do mean it, Tsumu.” he winces as you swat his hands away.

“what? that i’m annoying? please,” your friend scoffs, “what about you? you’re the annoying one!”

almost immediately, a shouting match ensues. a desperate Atsumu is trying to stop you from drinking more as your friend berates you, and the rest of your friends are trying to calm the one down.

“i wouldn’t be surprised if Miya breaks up with you because you’re so damn needy!”

“HAH?” he sees it in your eyes, and before Atsumu can hold you down, you’re staggering towards your friend. everyone is launched into a full-blown panic as your friend stands up too.

it’s a good thing you’re both drunk, Atsumu decides, because it’s much easier to catch up with you and stop anything from happening. your friends are dragging the one out, thanking you both for a good time, and Atsumu’s arms are caging you against his chest, ignoring the weak punches to his arms you’re doing.

“babe! what were ya thinking?! ya can’t just start something when you’re drunk, it—” he stops when he realizes you’re now crying, gripping his arms as you struggle to stand. “h-hey… Y/N? baby, what’s wrong?” Atsumu sits the both of you down, pulling you into his lap so you can comfortably bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“you—you won’t actually break up with me, right? you don’t… don’t think i’m needy… do you?” his heart breaks. he knows this subject is a sore spot and as much as he tries to show you otherwise, it still plagues your mind from time to time.

“i don’t think you’re needy, Y/N. i check in on ya when i can because i want to, not because i think ya need me to. if they think you’re needy and annoying for wanting to talk to someone when it’ll help, they’re not a good friend.” you sniffle as his fingers rub at your temples. he presses kiss after kiss to the crown of your head, and soon enough, you’re calm.

and when you pull away from the embrace, the genuinely appreciative face you give him sets his heart aflame.

—

Semi Eita

your water bottle in hand, Semi entered the kitchen to refill your water when he noticed his phone light up in his peripherals. he makes sure he finishes his task of getting you more water before moving to where his phone is charging on the island. he hopes it’s not important — the party you’re throwing at your shared apartment is too loud for a phone call. he’s surprised, however, to see a text from you. you, who’s currently smashed and curled on the couch with your drink.

setting your water down, he pulls up his messaging app only to see something that tugs a soft smile onto his face.

my muse

eita where are u :( ily

the silver-haired male looks up and towards the couch where he can see you pouting at your phone. he watches you type and turns his attention back to his phone.

my muse

i can c ur reeding theis coward

ah yes, your drunk spelling. a laugh bubbles in Semi’s throat as he grabs your water bottle and makes his way back to the couch, sitting next to you.

“what’re you doing?” he asks teasingly, passing you your now refilled water.

“texting my boyfriend,” you say as you take the bottle, taking a few sips. “he’s reading the texts but he won’t respond.” he watches you type again.

my muse

eeeitaaaaaaa :(

a grin appears on his face as he finally replies to you.

Semi

yes, my muse?

he hears your squeal of delight from beside him and you perk up. it’s almost as if subconsciously you know he’s right next to you because you stretch your legs over his and settle against his shoulder. while you have no qualms with showing affection to your friends, you’ve never full-on cuddled up to them like this, and Semi can’t hold back his laugh.

his phone buzzes with more misspelled texts from you, and he makes sure to respond so you can keep looking all joyfully cute whenever he does.

[cuubism]

Dreamling idea:

Randomly had a thought about the Endless being a family that is essentially dying out. However the parents are determined to have heirs even if it means selling their children into unwanted marriages or possibly short term “engagements”. Of course this becomes complicated with each of the children having various aspects that make them unsuitable (or in a few cases they vanish in the night to escape). Ultimately their hopes all rest on Dream.

He, though, is NOT having it. He’d recently met an older man - he has money but not the “right kind” aka ill gotten wealth. He isn’t from their class and, worst of all, he doesn’t seem interested in children. Obviously not a match, as far as the Endless parents are concerned.

However there IS a prospect in a nearby town.

Dream tries to run but unfortunately precautions were taken and he is locked away to await his fate.

Meanwhile, Hob waits for him at the tavern where they promised to meet.

And waits…

I had a particular scene in my head of Dream fighting with his mother over her demands only to be silenced by her slapping his face.

oh yeah. dream and his illicit older criminal fiance. his parents won't be pleased. that's what you get when you treat your kids like possessions though. rebellion...

--

Hob is waiting for him. Hob, beloved Hob, who like a fairy tale prince, or perhaps a fairy tale bandit, has promised to take Dream away from all this, steal him from his locked carriage and whisk him away into the night. Hob is waiting for him.

And Dream is faced with a locked door.

He yanks again on his bedroom door. It's locked from the outside. How had they known? He'd given no indication he intended to go out tonight. Or that he'd been going out at all. Death had even been covering for him, lying to their parents about Dream's whereabouts and acquaintances. And yet.

He yanks on the door for a fourth time, increasingly frustrated, and this time it swings open--but not of his doing. His mother stands on the other side, holding the key.

"No more of that," she says. Dream takes a step back as she steps into the room. "Sit down, Dream."

Dream has never been a particularly rebellious child. But even those who truly want to follow the rules can be pushed to their limits when the rules become too unfair. "No," he says, and it's only thinking of Hob that keeps his voice strong. "I am leaving, Mother."

She stares at him incredulously. "Leaving? To run off with that-- that man?" She sounds like she wants to use a far ruder word, but good breeding holds her tongue. "No. I think not. What, precisely, do you think that man wants with you, Dream? A proper spouse? You think he won't simply use and discard you?"

"It's my well-being you care about?" Dream says, disbelieving. "If you cared so much for that, or for Hob's age or the quality of his wealth you would not be bringing me suitors like Roderick Burgess."

"At least Burgess comes from a good family. Gadling is a common criminal."

"Don't speak of him that way!" Dream says, raising his voice against his mother for the first time he can remember. "Hob has been better to me than all of you."

His mother steps forward and slaps him across the face. Dream reels back, clutching his cheek, as she says. "You won't say such things against this family. You will stay here until we find someone suitable to take you."

With that she leaves again, locking the door behind her.

Dream sits down hard on the edge of his bed, still holding his face. For all that his parents have often been domineering, neither of them has ever struck him before. Such are the consequences of speaking his mind. Of pursuing what he wants.

He sits there for a long time, despondent. He wants to see Hob. But Hob will think Dream changed his mind, when Dream doesn't show up. Will think Dream abandoned him.

Dream wraps his arms around his knees, rocking himself back and forth. His mother is wrong about Hob. Hob is good to him. He treats Dream kindly, and listens to Dream talk about his interests when none of his family ever seem to care, and he is so handsome, has taught Dream the pleasure of being looked at as though he is something to truly desire--not as a prize or possession, like the suitors his mother picks out so often look at him, but as a sexual being deserving to want and be wanted. And he brings Dream to such heights of pleasure in his bed, when they meet.

He is still wallowing in his misfortune, feeling very pathetic indeed, when a crack comes at his window, and then the exterior lock breaks.

Dream startles, backing away, as the window swings open with a creak. Hob is there, leaning over the sill, out of breath from, apparently, climbing up the wall. "Hey, darling," he says.

A common criminal, Dream thinks, lips tugging up in a fond smile.

"You didn't come to our meeting point," Hob continues, hefting himself up and over the windowsill.

"So you came to me?" Dream asks.

"Couldn't let you get away that easy." He steps in close, taking Dream's face between his hands. Dream leans into him, clutching at Hob's shirt, as Hob's gaze searches his. He smiles, craftily, at what he sees there. "Still want to be stolen away?"

"Please."

Hob takes his hand. Kisses his knuckles. Dream doesn't look back at his room as Hob helps him over the windowsill, keeps him steady as they climb down the wall and land in the garden, where Hob catches him in the cradle of his arms.

"Not a very auspicious start for a marriage," Hob says, grinning. "Didn't even get it blessed by a priest or anything."

Dream surges up to kiss him, almost knocking Hob off-balance, and Hob laughs, kissing him back, arms tight around his waist. Then he takes Dream's hand again.

"Come on, my sweet, I promised you adventure." And hands gripped tight, he leads Dream off into the night.

[crab-boy-blues]

This reminds me of something I want to share with the trans community, or anyone listening. This is a letter my pastor wrote to the local newspaper after a beloved trans activist took their own life, and it moved me, and it might help you too. So trans people who are feeling disheartened by this dark, dark day, even considering ending your own lives, please read this and take it to heart (fyi there is a bit of Christian messaging bc it's from a pastor but she's a married lesbian so it's chill):

Dear transgender siblings,

Please stay.

Because perhaps we’ve never met

and I hope that we do.

I’ve never heard your laugh before or caught your fingerprints.

We need everyone’s, to learn what it means to be human.

Because snowdrops just came out,

along with members of our chosen family.

Because bears and bees and fancy bowls of ramen.

Because board games are back!

Because there are hands waiting for you to hold them

in every which way that a hand can be held.

Because there are still stones to be stacked,

one on top of the other,

marking the mystical moment that nobody knows about but you.

Because we are all still trying to “find ourselves”

but none of us really knows what that means.

Don’t you know,

your dreams are champagne prayers

bursting on the tongue of God?

And whoever they are, they are loving it!

Because we belong to each other.

You matter,

and I want to tell you how much,

right to your face.

I want to tell you so much that

your face turns red

and your cheeks burn

to remind you what a feeling is,

and that sometimes they are good.

Because sunburn and elephants and Dum Dums lollipops.

Because stickers and snowflakes and satellites.

Because fossils and forests and flirting.

Because everything!

Because, you are not nothing.

You are the breath.

You are dandelions carrying the wishes of children.

You are here.

You are wanted.

You are everything.

new reason to stay alive: outlive the trump presidency. In fact, outlive Trump. He isn’t immortal. We can live to see the day he's guaranteed to never be in office ever again and we can make sure he knows that he'll never have enough power to kill you

stay strong, friends, this isn't your fault

[lukalnst]

Hi, could you write Luka from ALNST with a reader he absolutely loves to “discreetly” follow around during their anakt garden days ? Like he has a crush on them and badly wants to become closer but he sucks so much at relationships that the reader is the one that ends up speaking with him first 🫠

ENAMORED!LUKA X READER

Contains: Luka is whipped for reader, gn!reader, Luka is bad at socializing,,, but he's trying his best!!!, fluff

Luka loved to watch you.

It sounded weird to think about it, no? He couldn't help but hide in places where he thought you wouldn't find him just to observe your every movement. He liked to see you talking with other people, and he liked to see how you'd react to what they had to say, amongst other things.

Oddly enough, you stood up from the rest to him. He felt a weird sense of love for you, but it wasn't exactly that — It felt much stronger than love itself. Maybe it was an obsession? He didn't exactly experience what love really was, so he guessed it made sense for him not to know what it was.

Maybe you could show him what it was, though.

But, as much as he loved to think about you and imagine little scenarios about you in his head, he could never actually approach you. It was quite irritating, he had to admit.

He could imagine himself doing many other things, but talking to you wasn't one of them. As much as he tried to, he simply couldn't.

Perhaps it wasn't meant to be. Some people are better left off in your head. Some things are better left off in your imagination, no?

... That was what he thought, and that was what he tried to convince himself.

Luckily for Luka, you had noticed him staring at you from behind a tree that was only a few meters away from you. You were a bit confused at first. Did he really think you couldn't see him? He was basically peeking from behind the tree.

When he realized that you were taking a few steps closer towards the tree, he pretended to be doing something else. You surely wouldn't notice, his plan was perfect.

... Or so he thought.

"Hey... uhm... Do you want to be friends?" You gently asked as you observed him trying to act as if he wasn't just looking at you intently from a place which he didn't even bother hiding properly.

Luka turned around and was hesitant to reply. He didn't want to seem like someone who was desperate. "... I guess. My name is Luka, yours?" He questioned.

As you said your name, he had to pretend as if he didn't hear other people saying it repeatedly when talking to you. "That's a nice name. I'm glad to meet you," he smiled at you. It took basically everything in him to not start smiling stupidly. You had talked to him, you really had —

"Luka! Do you wanna play with me?" You gently tugged at his arm. His eyes were slightly open, and a smile made its way towards his lips. He simply tried to keep his act up as if it wasn't one of the best days of his life.

"Yes, I'd love to..." He gently murmured.

...

Something that you didn't have to worry about was about Luka finding another best friend. He seemed to only enjoy spending time with you, and he made it known.

Whenever other people tried to talk to him, he just glared at them and placed you in front of them, as a weird way to say, 'I don't want anyone else other than them'.

Other people thought he was odd, but he had grown into your best friend. Someone who you could easily rely on.

Someone who would love you no matter what.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"Surely, there must be a reason for your visit," the villain purred. They put their elbows on the table and their head on their hands, cupping their own cheeks. "Unfortunately, I don't believe you're visiting just to see my pretty face."

The hero cocked their head.

"Why not?"

The villain looked effortlessly attractive. They always did, but today from this angle, in this pose, with those clothes…The hero’s brain betrayed them over and over again. Every now and then, their thoughts circled around their nemesis, even if they didn’t get to see each other that week.

Or perhaps, especially then.

"Because you only ever show up when you want something from me," the villain said. Although their smirk was of flirty nature and although their hand was reaching for the hero again, the disappointment in their voice didn't go by unnoticed.

It was true. In the same sense that avoiding eating the forbidden fruit was true.

The villain touched the hero's shoulder. "...you got some lint here..."

It was a poor excuse to touch them, but the hero preferred it when their nemesis had to justify it. They preferred building walls around themselves and denying this part of their personality — this horrible part that wanted the villain.

They enjoyed the flirting. The soft touches. But there couldn't be more than that.

"You know I'm busy," the hero murmured. They grabbed the villain's wrist before they could pull back their arm. "But I can totally understand if you miss me. I will arrange something."

"You make me sound desperate."

"Aren't you desperate for me?"

"Oh, please. As if I want you in that way," the villain said. Under the table, their foot was already trying to find a way to the hero's bare shins, contradicting their words easily.

Admittedly, the hero couldn't help but feel guilty. It was true that they had come to the villain once again to beg for information. It was also true that they avoided them unless it was absolutely necessary.

It was a stupid habit. A pathetic one. Something the hero had picked up in their childhood, something that had manifested when they had decided to become a hero.

No one was allowed to get too close. Least of all their supposed nemesis. Even if that nemesis wasn't a threat on the battlefield anymore. For now.

They couldn't recall when the flirting had started. The villain had always been someone very talkative, someone who could talk for hours. And apparently, in some way, this had rubbed off on them.

"Everyone in this city wants me in that way," the hero mumbled.

And it surprised even themselves that they’d said it out loud. For whatever reason, they tried to get some jealousy out of the villain. It wasn't fair to the villain, the hero knew that. It wasn't fair to flirt and make all sorts of promises, just to disappoint them in the end.

The hero was a mess, they could admit that much. People getting too close always hurt.

It was always too painful.

"I suppose they want all the perfect parts of you. The flawlessness." The villain smiled and swayed their head from left to right. The hero looked at them, trying to ignore their increasing heartbeat. "I bet no one wants all those ugly details. All those late nights, those bloody hands, that emotionless shell around you…"

Suddenly, the hero's eyes widened.

They hadn't come here to be humiliated. Or to be insulted. They knew they very far from—

"But, just so you know. If I was into you and if I wanted you in that way, I'd adore those parts. I would adore and cherish them. Because I would have chosen you with every single thing that comes with you." The villain winked and the hero's throat dried out. "You are not closer to perfection than any other human being. And I am probably the only person in this city who not only notices but also accepts this."

The hero's hand was in theirs and they led it to their lips, pressing a soft kiss to their enemy's knuckles.

The hero couldn't think. They couldn't…could not really…

"But we were talking about something else, were we not?" the villain asked.

The hero couldn't answer. They felt like crying.

"The information you wanted?"

"Oh…yeah, yes. Sorry. Long night."

Both of them knew that was a very cheap lie.

[anghraine]

#oh op!!#I’d never considered the parallelism of lady Catherine and Mr Bennett#I feel like perhaps lady Catherine’s treatment of her charge (Anne) and her expectations of her as this grand lady as equates some how to#the possible road Darcy could have gone down with Georgianna#this is a half baked thought but anyways#you put it all into words very well here#1000000/10 (via @a-mythologynerd)

Thank you! I think that's a great reading, actually—Georgiana isn't in poor physical health or a fragile waif in appearance the way Anne is, but she's shy, vulnerable, and respects Darcy's force of personality and conviction to the point of near-awe (for instance, when the narrator briefly shifts to Georgiana's perspective, we find her believing "his judgment could not err"). It would be really easy for Georgiana to be completely overshadowed by him the way Anne has become this total nonentity in the shadow of the behemoth that is Lady Catherine's personality.

(This even extends to appearance, even though Georgiana doesn't look like Anne. Elizabeth notices on her first introduction to the Rosings ladies that while Anne isn't plain, she's forgettable and looks nothing like Lady Catherine; upon meeting Georgiana, Elizabeth thinks she's womanly and pleasant-looking but not as beautiful as Darcy. Elizabeth is not unbiased in either case, but it does seem that Darcy is physically and in demeanor a much more striking person and presence than Georgiana, much as Lady Catherine is re: Anne.)

I think we see some interesting indicators about this, actually, in Darcy's remarks about Georgiana to Lady Catherine, when Georgiana isn't even there. Lady Catherine is pushy and overbearing about Georgiana in a way that would undoubtedly overwhelm timid Georgiana if she were there. Darcy's responses are civil enough but equally clear and forceful in insisting that Georgiana does not need to be pressured.

From what we see of his relationship with his sister, Darcy seems to know how easy it would be for him (much less Lady Catherine!) to crush Georgiana's spirit without much effort. While he's a very present quasi-parental authority figure in Georgiana's life, he's clearly careful about providing opportunities for her to express things—he defends her constant musical practice, Georgiana talks more when he's around, he encourages Georgiana to join him in social niceties without putting it all on her, they write long letters to each other, etc. Anne doesn't receive this kind of careful nurturing (and as far as we know, she's never come as near to danger as Georgiana did—yet Darcy's approach to Georgiana doesn't seem at all determined by l'affaire Wickham). The Darcy siblings' relationship could end looking very much like Lady Catherine's with Anne given the temperaments involved, but instead Darcy is evidently going to a lot of pains to make sure that doesn't happen.

In a way, that (inverted) parallel reminds me of how Darcy and Lady Catherine are also paralleled in terms of their authority over the many people under their power. Both are highly active, involved authority figures in what they see as their social responsibilities where Mr Bennet is an irresponsible procrastinator (Elizabeth is nowhere near as bad as Mr Bennet, but doesn't appear to ever think about social responsibilities reaching beyond her own genteel/upper mercantile world until she meets Mrs Reynolds—by contrast to someone like Emma). There's almost a Mirror universe quality to how Darcy's proactive concern for those under his power has its recognizable but much worse counterpart in Lady Catherine sallying forth to settle her cottagers' disagreements, silence their complaints, and "scold them into harmony and plenty."

Even Lady Catherine's officious interference with Darcy's marital choices based on a plan for him made years earlier with Lady Anne has its echo in Darcy's own interference with Bingley's marital choices. Lady Catherine's motives are tied up with her relationship with her sister, with the prestige and wealth her daughter would gain (and her aggressive advancement of said daughter's interests), with her desire for an effective merger between the Darcy and de Bourgh properties via the Fitzwilliam connection (something that would benefit all three families including Lady Catherine), etc. It's not a villainous plot against Darcy, but a plan in which, on paper, everyone stands to benefit enormously (Darcy most of all, in fact)—but there's an obvious element of self-interest and self-aggrandizement in it for Lady Catherine, too.

Similarly, Darcy's motives are tied up with his relationship with his sister, who he'd like to marry Bingley. I'd argue that, socially, Bingley is far beneath what Georgiana could expect in the ordinary course of things, but not so far as to be inappropriate, and he's personally kind and gentle in ways that would be really good for Georgiana in a few years after what she's been through. But the convenience of the Darcys can't dictate Bingley's life choices and he doesn't see Georgiana that way at all.

At the same time, Darcy is also motivated by concern for Bingley's future, social advancement, and happiness based on a genuine belief that Jane is admirable but doesn't love Bingley. And Elizabeth herself earlier argued that someone who doesn't know Jane is very likely to reach that conclusion—she thought that was a good thing and Charlotte that it's unwise on Jane's part, but they agreed that it was probable before Darcy ever started evaluating Jane's behavior. His approach feels less obnoxious than Lady Catherine's because he's a more complex, intelligent, nuanced, and principled character than his aunt, and because he himself soon recognizes his misjudgment when it's pointed out to him (in very unfavorable circumstances!) and eventually takes active steps to fix things. So again, there are important differences in the finer points here—but we can still see an echo in Lady Catherine of the kind of person Darcy could be if he just lets himself follow his inclinations.

That's a lot of rambling, but I hadn't fully thought of the extra parallels/contrasts between them as parental figures, so I appreciate it!

I'm drafting a long semi-headcanon post as I try to phrase it properly, but I'm tired right now so I'll just leave you with the conclusion:

Mr Bennet has made Elizabeth into the closest feasible approximation of the son he wanted and never had, and relates to her through that framework as much as possible. Meanwhile, Lady Catherine can't quite acknowledge that her literal daughter is a disappointment to her, and instead just openly fantasizes about a totally unrecognizable version of Anne that has never existed. Her real spiritual daughter is Darcy.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Fake-Dating Pairs That Could "Plausibly" Happen

As requested by @room-temperature-orange-juice :)

Sanderson doesn't seem to go for fake dating all that much. But here are some scenarios that could TOTALLY happen if he did want to incorporate some fake-dating comedy into his books...

1. MeLaan & Marasi

The Scenario: Well, they obviously need to go undercover to solve a case, perhaps to a ball or a party or a wedding where it makes the most sense to pretend to be a couple

MeLaan (currently in a woman's body): All right. Let's do this! Marasi: U-Uh, MeLaan? Are you sure that's the...best body for this operation? MeLaan: Shit, you're right. Hang on! MeLaan: [Returns as a much more voluptuous woman] MeLaan: Now everyone will know that you can pull. Marasi (deeply red): T-THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT

2. Kaladin & Szeth [Rhythm of War spoilers but NO WAT preview spoilers]

The Scenario: Well, we know that Kaladin and Szeth will be going to Shinovar on a mission. Let's say Szeth needs to explain why he's brought a stone-walker into his homeland. The obvious explanation is that they're dating!

Shinovar authority figure: D-Dating?! Why would you date a stone-walker?! Szeth (expressionless): I like tall men. Kaladin (equally expressionless): He likes it when I hit my head on things. Szeth (still expressionless): Though I love him deeply, I do enjoy a good instance of head trauma. Shinovar authority figure (muttering): Is double "Truthless" a thing?

3. Charlie & one of those princesses

The Scenario: Rather than driving off all of the eligible princesses by being as boring & gross as possible, Charlie finds one who is willing to play along.

Charlie: T-The truth is, I already have a woman I love. The Princess: Really? Charlie: Yeah, but my dad doesn't approve of her... The Princess: I know how you feel. My father also doesn't approve of the woman I love... Charlie: ... The Princess: ... Charlie: ... The Princess: ... Charlie: Five-year engagement? The Princess: At least!

4. Lyn & Renarin

The Scenario: Fed up with her parents being all judgmental because she dumped Kaladin Stormblessed, Lyn decides that she HAS to bring an awesome date to her family dinner--and who better than a Brightlord, a Radiant, AND the king's son?

Lyn: Don't forget to bring up that you joined the 4v1 duel before Kaladin. Lyn: And how you took down a Thunderclast! Lyn: Storms, if you just smile occasionally, I bet that'll make them forget about Kaladin... Lyn: ... Lyn: Honestly, I think you might just be a better catch than Kaladin. Renarin: I'm gay, though. Lyn: Heh, well I didn't say you're a better catch for me...

5. Kaladin & Elhokar

The Scenario: Imagine that, during the infiltration of Kholinar, that part of their disguises involve Elhokar (disguised as a lighteyed woman) being the wife of Kaladin (disguised as an ugly old man).

Elhokar: Mmmm...I don't feel that I would go for a man with eyebrows like that. Shallan: Brightlady, please! Surely you can pretend that beneath his rough exterior, he has a good heart. Kaladin: ...pretend? Elhokar: No, no. I definitely would have insisted that he at least groom better. Can you make his eyebrows at least a bit neater? To sell the illusion? Or, do we have time to stop for nose-hair trimmers? Shallan: What if I just make his cheekbones a bit sharper? Elhokar: Mmmm...okay, yes. I could see myself marrying him. Kaladin: CAN WE PLEASE GET GOING

6. Wayne and Ranette

The Scenario: Wayne begs Ranette to fake-marry him.

Ranette: [looking at Wayne with a mixture of horror and pity] You said you weren't gonna do this anymore, Wayne. Wayne: No, no! Don't you get the wrong idea here! I need you to marry me and then divorce me horribly so you get half of my money in court! Wayne: Please understand--I've tried everything to get rid of this money. I'm desperate here! Wayne: Please! Ranette: ... Ranette: I get to divorce you horribly? Wayne: You better eviscerate me in court! Ranette: ... Ranette: Might be right therapeutic, actually. Wayne: You're such a good friend!

Moash & Kelsier

The Scenario: Moash realizes he's going to be reunited with his former Bridge 4 friends and makes plans accordingly.

Moash: Yup. This is my old Bridge 4 uniform, but now it's dyed black, because I'm new & evil now. Moash: And this is my new boyfriend Kelsier, who's just like you, Kaladin, only he survives MORE and actually FOLLOWS THROUGH on killing the king. Kelsier: Lord Ruler. Moash: Whatever. Moash: So as you can see, I don't even miss you guys AT ALL. Moash: ... Moash: What do you think? Will this make them jealous? Kelsier: ...I think we need to practice your speech a bit more.

[edgeray]

I BESEECH YOU

Goddess! Arlecchino x Reader

You fear that your death draws near. You pray to be spared from suffering when you meet your fate.

Content warnings / info - none

When you're a dying individual, time swims past you, ungraspable and constantly evading you. There is almost too much time and never enough of it, a phenomenon that only comes to those whose mercy is death. While you bide your time, waiting for the inevitable to approach, there are still things that need to be tended to. Your farm and animals reserves no impatience despite your aching body and weakening limbs. Still, you find it hard to gripe when they preoccupy you from your fate.

No physician that has found a cure for your ailment, a medical anomaly for someone whose age was just ripe for marrying a reliable, decent man. Oh, how the villagers pity you, yet have not spared a single moment of their time or peace of mind for you.

Winter draws near. Whispers on the streets tell you that this year's harvest was abysmal. A famed apostle foretells that this winter will be harsher than the last. The nobles have, expectedly, stockpiled much of the village's harvest, and your neighbors were left to barter for remains and leftovers. Mania runs amok in the markets. The village brims with a fraught energy, despair palpable in the sad sight of the commoners.

It's an omen, you think. Just as your condition starts to worsen, every breath grows more labored than the last with each frigid and snow-casted night. Even now, with the fur-lined coat and the wool hat, the chill penetrates into your skin. You clutch onto the loaf of bread and bundles of fruit a little closer to your body as you traverse through the snow. It crunches underneath your feet, each bare step another dose of iciness injected into your veins. You shudder and lift your gaze.

A forgotten, barren shrine greets your view, a crumbling but no less sacred sanctuary. A relieved huff escapes from you.

The villagers have long abandoned this shrine and its goddess a long time ago. When the town began prospering, there sprung up many other trivialities for villagers to fret over–not when death seems so distant. When fields thrive, the weather is fair, the villagers’ pockets are full, and the nobles bless them with protection, death comes for few. Why worship the Goddess of Death when you can earn Lord Pantalone's blessing or be gifted with Lord Dottore's longevity and vitality? No longer is death a contagious disease, more so an afterthought. You used to think this way before you were struck with a curious illness. What use does currency have when you're dying? Why had Lord Dottore cursed you?

You kneel before the house of Lord Arlecchino. The coarse ground bites into your skin. The remains of your past offerings suggest that some critters have gotten to them before your Goddess has. Pesky creatures. You lay down the offerings in the center, before closing your eyes.

“Almighty Lord Arlecchino. I greet you, my Goddess of Death. How do you fare?” There is silence, but you still wait for an answer.

“I apologize this time for my lacking offerings. If you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I would be gratified. This year's harvest was not abundant… perhaps my village's luck has been used up. I believe there will be a lot of souls for you to collect. And… I will be among them,” you profess quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

You dip your head back down, inhaling deeply. “I know I have provided only humble gifts to you. But I have been devoted to you for years… I have taken care of this place of worship… may I ask of you for one thing, my Lord?”

The wind whistles through the shrine, and a gust kisses your skin. You take it as a sign to continue. “If you deem me worthy of this grace, then… I would like to die without suffering. If possible… I would like to pass during my slumber. If my request is too impudent… you may strike me down now. Or… I will wait for the time when I meet you. I thank you for your presence. Please indulge yourself in my gifts, Lord Arlecchino.”

You take one final bow, before getting up. You pray that the Goddess will take pity on you. You begin to turn, but then falter. Uncoiling the fabric around your neck, you place down your wool scarf onto the ground.

“I am not certain if you feel the winter chill as I do. Even if you do not, I would like for you to have it. The winter is grueling, as cold and beautiful as you are.”

You finally turn and leave. When you are nothing but a small silhouette in the distance, a pale woman emerges in the shadows of the shrine, observing you.

“Foolish, precious human,” the Goddess sighs as she leans down, grasping onto the scarf. “Do you undermine my omnipotence so much that you do not ask for me to relieve you of your illness? Or perhaps your heart is too large to muse the thought.”

She wraps the soft material around her neck. It is comforting. “It is not time for you to meet me just yet.”

Whipped up something quick cuz I was in a mood. Should I continue, maybe? Lowkey should finish my Halloween Event fic but... too many other ideas.

[lylian333]

~YANDERE LUKA X YOUNGER SISTER READER~

(this story may have changes soooo yeah but I'll edit it to make it as perfect if I can )

WARNING: yandere, toxic relationship, read at your own risk, sexual assault,I need to touch grass and prey to god after this, noncon, weird siblings love(Luka isn't obsessed with hyuna), if there other that I didn't contain please let me know

The first thing you ever see and remember is luka who claims to be your older brother.after that you both are taken in by an alien that wanted you both to start calling him father as soon as he gets you both.

Both of your features may look the same but the health problem is quite the complete you are considered healthy perhaps even have a stronger immune system than others, while your older brother is the opposite since he has asthma, and chronic migraines already.

before you both were send to Anakt Garden you both gown up with robots trying to teach and take care of both of you but the ways of it are scary and it is too much of a business that they would even care on how you smile and how you laugh .

But there are quite a few similarities between you both hate paparazzi like you guys like eating, sucking, and biting on things to satisfy you both hunger you both gown up with huge appetites as well and cause your father to worry about it and he starts giving us less food which to this day you curious that how you habits have begun.

Sometimes you both wanted to pass the time faster you both would cuddle but just cuddling tho there would be biting and touching at least your body wasn't comfortable with it but luka told you to just brush it off and you'll get used to it. this would only happened in private not waiting father or even anybody to find out about this just between you too. slowly the cuddle went from biting to kissing to even touching at weird spots but like luka said" just blush it off you'll get used to it after all you don't to make me upset do you ,dear sister?"

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

After that, you both were then sent to Anakt Garden father said it's the first step of your career you both are scared at first but at least you both got each other right? well luka health is kinda slowly getting worse there , and the other children's there kinda treat luka poorly because of his health but you always protect him by chasing the others away.

Time goes by in a blur, and with every passing day, you can feel the pressure of the competition looming over you both.The training is intensive and harsh, involving physical and mental conditioning to create the perfect idols. But they did have a playtime even so the daily routine consists of rigorous practice and training .

one day,while watching the other kids playing on the other side you and luka were playing with cube and seeing who can do it faster.two person came up to you both when you both look up they smile back and introduced themself" hello my name is hyuna and my younger brother is hyun woo do you guys want to be our friends and play?"

you look at luka waiting for him to make a decision he nod and your really happy about it cause you rarely see siblings and plus their very friendly not only that turns out that hyun woo is the same age as you while hyuna is the second oldest and luka the oldest.

After that day you guys would often hang out together you even started quit seeing them as part as your siblings because of how caring, kindful, and protective they are.

And slowly you start gaining feelings for hyun woo not just any feelings but a really special one even more special than luka and you.Hyun woo would often make a bouquet of flowers or flower head crowns just for you , he would also care for you talk to you a lot, and entertain you which you really enjoy. he would even help you to practice your vocals so that you wouldn't mess up in case and just overall a happy ball full of fun. and perhaps you can even say that you enjoy hyun woo accompany more then luka ones but maybe luka have caught on to you and hyun woo relationships.

About a year later of this at one day, after playing around you guys have gotten tried and decide to rest well hyuna go get some water you and hyun woo decide to lay down together perhaps even call it as a cuddle? Slowly you dive into sleep.

The next thing you knew when you woke up was you hear fighting??? you git confuse and rub your eyes and got up seeing what's going on.turn out it was luka and hyun fighting they rarelt fight even if they did it's usually luka who wanted to find trouble or he just didn't know about it but this fight is not like others it not playful it's like luka actually trying to hit hyun woo before you can fully process what to do luka use all his might and push hyun woo on the group causing him to accidently hit a rock.

Seeing that you instantly push luka causing him to fall on the ground when you turn around to check if hyun woo is okay but you notice his head is b-bleeee-bleeding , him not moving at all not even an inch

Hyuna came into the scene as well screaming" What's going on here and-...Hyun woo-"she stood there speed looking dumbfounded then robots and alien staff came in while hyuna was trying to leave his brother alone you turned around to your brother about to scream at him for what he did but you notice that he's hand is c-changing color-? it's was supposed to be- no not never purple you kneel against him confused picking up his finger and touching it not understanding what's going on why is so many things happening at once

You finally spoken out "luka why...?"

Hyuna kicked and screamed at all her might to put down her brother but the robots just pushed her away and the alien staff held her back she was madly crying. you wanted to go comfort her but when you were about to move luka held you tight "Don't leave me yet I'm not feeling well, sister" he said as he hold you tightly.

Ever since that day, hyuna has grown to have a negative sentiment to luka but even you can't blame her for what she has to be.

One peaceful night well sleeping, you got woken up by hyuna shacking your body trying to silently wake you up"(y/n) Follow me now" she whispered into your ear

'"Where are we going?"

"We're going to escape from this place from our owners and from this living hell, now come on we don't have much time left"

She then pulls your hand out of bed and starts running. You have so many questions in your head but before you can ask any question hyuna pulls you down onto the ground hiding from cameras and security "(y/n) , you may be confused right now but I'll explain to you when we both get out of here please escape with me you're the only person I trusted even after the incident. But please wake up there are many dark secret about this place and the future career all you have to do is just follow me and run across the field climb up a gate and get out"

Part of you wanted to listen to hyuna and escape this living hell and owners of a place but half of you wanted to stay with your older brother and is afraid that luka would be weak and may be left out .....

In the end you choose to escape for your own good for your own freedom and rights. You nod to hyuna who's smile at you and nod back understanding

You both slowly craw out of your hiding spot till one of you got caught by the camera and robots . you both run you tried keeping up to her speed . the alarms were to on alarming the others that the children's are escaping .

Some robots even try shooting you guys down but it can't . Hyuna begin to climb the gate to escape while screaming"(y/n) you can do this just trust me!"

Half way there you feel a strong pull at your leg and caused you to slip down and hit your head on the gate and the ground before you pass out from the pain you ever last encountered with her just looking down at you from the top with her sad and hopeless expression before she keeps going

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

When you woke up you woke up your realized that you were not in the Anakt Garden bed you were in your home bed with luka on the side hugging you. You were curious and confused and eve scared that father would punish you. When trying to move you feel a sharp pain causing you to moan uncomfortable causing luka to wake up"Finally you woke up dear after a few days without you feel horrible but it's fine our owner has taken us back to home"

Hearing that makes you remember what happened you feel like you are disappointed in yourself you feel horrible for letting yourself down why are you so stupid there is nothing you can do but shed tears hugging your brother.

Timeskip many years later

You were sitting on the bed waiting for Luka to return from round 5 you both may be singers but never in the same stage or competition for both of your sake. Your competition was over with you winning and nothing surprising from what has happened multiple times in the past. But how do they manage to hold different competition and different members

Then you hear the door open, luka enters with his face injury and black eyes it's not your first time seeing this but every time you do it reminds you of the past...

Luka sat on the couch waiting for you to grab equipment to help with his injury. when you did he pulled you to sit on his lap "You're the only thing I want and need I miss spending time with you like in the old days....why don't we cuddle again like how we used to maybe more intense now since you gown up right now a baby anymore..." he chuckles cupping your cheek

(there hasn't been an ending yet sooon I came up with my own for now and maybe in the future I'll edit it better bc I only have one week left before my fucking important ass exam .But I just fall into the fandom bc of the edit it's so good man and I'll also try understanding the concept alright) I know this is really mess up but still...anyways thanks for reading

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[dunmeshistash]

I've been having a bunch of ideas kinda float around my mind like little screensavers that I didn't feel like putting on paper, but one of these ideas just so happened to hit a corner, and it gave me an idea for what might perhaps be a bit of a silly (and oddly specific) question, but one I was very interested in asking nonetheless. Especially after reading your long post on the Demon's perspective of Laios' backstory. I really hope you don't mind.

While my memory's a tad blurry on how the scene played out in detail, I still find Laios' confrontation with the demon to be one of my favorite scenes. Definitely top 5. It's the one where Laios secretly orders Izutsumi to execute him at the slightest hint of suspicion. That one. I think that scene is among my favorites because it's both a perfect demonstration of Laios' remarkable cleverness hidden underneath all that lack of social skills, but it's also the perfect demonstration of how utterly terrifying the demon is.

At first I was under the assumption that Laios had it all under control, but the Demon's frighteningly gentle with how he twists Laios' very thoughts in a way that frames him as some sort of misanthropist, and the Winged Lion's words seemingly foil whatever plan Laios may have had. It made me think that Laios had failed, and Izutsumi's orders to lob his head off may have been a fail safe because he didn't know if he could successfully thwart the Demon's plans.

However, after finishing the story, extras, etc; I started thinking that perhaps failing was all part of Laios' plan, too. At least partially. Perhaps he realised that the only way to outsmart and ultimately best the Demon, was to let the Demon win. Perhaps he concluded that the only way for him to stand a chance against the Demon was to lose, to be at the Demon's mercy, to have his words utterly twisted; because he couldn't just make the demon "think" he had won. The only way for the Demon, the embodiment of hunger, to think he had won, was for him to actually win.

Maybe he ordered Izutsumi to… how do you put it… "artificially shorten his lifespan" because he knew the Demon would use his love for monsters against him, and would manipulate him into wishing to become the Ultimate Strongest Monster. His recent addendum (that the Ultimate Strongest Monster can eat desires) seems to support this theory, if I remember correctly. However, I can't remember for certain. Maybe his plan was to trap the Demon in his body and kill it that way? I genuinely can't remember.

So, I was wondering if you'd be interested in answering this oddly specific and mildly stupid question: How much of Laios' interaction with the Demon was planned, and how much was him fucking around and finding out? I'd love to know your thoughts on this!

PS: Laios rocks the swag he dons as king. Would happily serve under him. PPS: I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week, Mr. Morbius! Thank you for this awesome blog. You're cool.

Hello!!!!! Yeah!!!!!! The question Kabru himself would rather not know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Same as Kabru I decided not to think too hard about but Kui definitely gave us hints that this could be the case, I don't think Laios "planned" to fail from the start, he strikes me as a very optimistic guy (as you can see with how he first thought the confrontation with Thistle could go and how he STILL tried to talk to him instead of fighting) but I think he did "prepare" somewhat for the worst case scenario, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst?

Like I don't think this part of his plan was a misdirection I think he really hoped it could be this simple? So this was plan A (although he realizes this is too optimistic I think he hopes it will work)

This part tho I'm pretty sure was partly a misdirection for his teammates, since he asks them to help him get his mind back only to tell Izutsumi to kill him at the smallest hint he lost his mind, so I think this was plan B as in "If I become the lord of the dungeon kill me so there's no more dungeon lord" which was the original canary plan

Which again is kinda confirmed by this thought bubble

I think this was plan C

He knew he no longer wished for a country where humans and monsters could coexist (because of what he saw) so I guess he had *some* idea that becoming a monster was his other wish and added that as a fail safe if plan A and B failed? I don't think he could have guessed the Demon would use his body but maybe he thought he could use the nature of the demon against him (granting his desire to become a monster even tho the monster can eat him)

As Marcille and Kabru realize tho, that might all be a coincidence and he really thought plan A or B would work lmao. WHO KNOWS Laios' mind is a mystery

I'd recommend rereading chapter 88 if you want to go thru Laios' whole plan and how the demon manipulated him, it's a great chapter (87 too with the demon origin story)

[schoenpepper]

How about for our early xmas gift, you give us a version where Yuu comes back to twst again🙂

(You broke my heart po💔)

Maybe This Time

Intro: Everything changed after you left. But maybe he still stayed the same.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, jade is veryy bad, kinda yandere ish

A/N: Counted as a sequel to this, though you can probably read it as a standalone. Sige na nga anonnie merry xmas happy new year nlng sayo haha. Maybe this tiiiime it'll be lovin' they'll find—*gets shot*

Masterlist

Jade forgets what it's like to live.

The day you left, all color drained from the world he resides in. Rather, your absence pushed him from being an active participant into one that only watches.

Still, it only takes him a day to get back to work.

"You can take a longer break."

He waves off Azul with such a well-practiced smile even he might believe it. "I don't need a break. What is it for, even? There's no use reminiscing over such boring things."

Boring.

Boring boring boring.

The word makes him livid. It makes him seethe with a burning, passionate anger he was unaware was even stored within him. Maybe that's why you left. Maybe Jade failed to excite you. He and his brother are people that stay because of interest, so perhaps the reason you left was because Jade could no longer interest you. Is that it?

Why else?

Why else would you shatter him the first chance that you get?

It takes him one week to forget.

Not you. Sevens know he'll never forget you. You were a whirlwind that crashed through everything he knew and smashed him to smithereens. It takes him a week to forget that he's still hiding his pain.

He forgets he's in pain.

You're a rotting, festering wound that he's buried under layers of pretend. He's such a good actor even Floyd is—

"Stop cryin'."

Well. Maybe not Floyd. Jade raises a hand to his cheek and finds no tears. "You weren't crying. But I made you look, right?" Floyd grins, "Hurry and pack. Maybe nonna can help you get over shrimpy. She's real good at life advice~"

He's sure life advice won't help, but it wouldn't hurt (any more) to try.

The waters of the Coral Sea are frigid. It doesn't numb him enough when he's so used to it, but it's alright. He's fine, anyway. There's no more regret. No more bitter hatred. Only the familiar salt of the ocean water. His parents mean well when they fret over him, asking his twin brother for details. His grandmother is worriedly chattering over his shoulder, and he's made aware that he's unable to fool them this time. He's good at pretending. His family couldn't pick out his faux smiles when he's entangled in mischief, nor could they identify the mock innocence he likes to act out when he gets into fights with other mer. But now, why now? Why are they able to press their hand on that beating, dead thing in his chest and attempt to comfort it when the only thing it wants to do is wallow and wither in nothingness?

They couldn't tell when he was pretending to be good.

But they can tell that he's pretending to be okay.

It doesn't make sense.

It takes one month for everything to fall back in routine. Sleeping potions and pills and spells aid in nights when he's preoccupied with memories of a person he wished never existed at all.

His grades are higher than they'd ever been, and he's so ridiculously productive. It's all on track. Everything is just as it was before you. There was a time in his life before you. He can fill in the empty spot you'd left behind with dirt and the pieces of himself you'd killed that fateful day.

And thus, there will be a time after you.

"Jade," Azul hands him a familiar plush toy, "Floyd told me to give this back to you."

The felt shrimp plushie is mocking him; there is no other explanation. It's one half of a pair, actually. In some dingy arcade in town was a claw machine filled with small mushroom, shrimp, egg, onion, and garlic plushies. The owner called the machine "shrimp fried crane game". You were the one to win one mushroom plushie you kept for yourself, and you gave him the shrimp.

The mushroom was in your suitcase.

In his rampage (he wouldn't call it that, really), he had destroyed everything that reminded him of you that same night, or rather, early morning. He watched polaroids and love letters burn inside a metal dumpster he'd hauled from school grounds. The shrimp wasn't part of the bonfire.

It seems Floyd had snuck it away.

He inspects the toy with his usual smile, tight-lipped and close-eyed, nodding at Azul. He wants it out of his sight for a long, long time. If it could feel as forgotten as he felt, let those feelings be transferred to you. He wishes you pain and agony and guilt and regret.

It takes one year for him to let out a genuine chuckle.

His twin brother stares at him like he'd grown a second head, and Jade is aware it's unusual. Even though the joke he'd laughed at was so inane, the fact of the matter was that he laughed, which in itself is so strange. Perhaps this is a good thing. No, it can only be a good thing. What is it if not a sign that he's healing?

And soon, he won't remember you at all.

And you will cease to exist in his mind.

But it's not meant to happen today.

No, with that little laugh, grief like several tonnes of cement hit him right where it hurts the most; it's heavy, and debilitating, and it makes it nigh impossible for him to even breathe.

(Because you were the air he once consumed, and neither humans nor mer are made for such long term suffocation.)

"I've never seen you laugh before," the young man in front of him smiles with thick, syrupy lovesickness, "it suits you."

The person is an underclassman who'd been following him around recently. Like a poor mockup of your silhouette, he hears the same promises you couldn't keep from the mouth of another. It irks him more than he'd like to admit, because if he does, then it means admitting that he still remembers you. It means he still holds you up in his altar and lights flames in your name.

He does not.

Whoever says otherwise, whether it be Floyd or Azul, or Silver or Riddle; they all lie.

He only remembers you in anger. In bouts of madness that makes him question your existence, it is then that your name leaves his lips.

It takes one decade.

For what?

For forgiveness? For the hate to fade?

On his 27th birthday, his phone rings with a number he's long since engraved in his heart.

Jade forgot how to live in your absence.

In the decade you'd left, he only existed. It is a passive state of consistent routine that allows him to appear normal to his peers. Still, his closest people know he was left incomplete. He became a creature without a sense of purpose, and it was a sad thing. How pitiful it was for a predator to be reduced to a vessel containing shards of a broken heart.

Still, it is your name that he finds. It is your number.

A number from a phone kept in some dark corner of NRC's storage room. It's likely a student who decided to scroll through your contacts and found his contact name amusing. You did have quite the strange penchant for putting strange names in your contact list.

He answers the call in a moment of boredom.

There is nothing interesting to do in a business party.

"Hello? Jade?"

He stops. There is nothing in this world or yours that could erase each and every memory he's ever made with you. The voice is one he's heard often and dreams and even more in nightmares; it has replaced the voice of his dead conscience and pushed him to a meaningless drifting existence instead of finding thrill in things you would despise him for.

It's been a decade and instead of forgetting you, he didn't know when he melded you into his bones and stitched you into the fabric of his soul, but he knows you more than he knows himself.

"I'm back."

There is no more bitter hatred. There is no more regret.

"Can you pick me up?"

In one moment, it all dissipates into nothingness and there is only you.

Jade remembers how to breathe again. He feels that withered thing in his chest beat once more, and he feels alive.

It takes one decade for you to return.

And he didn't know he was waiting for you, but then, what could every second without you have meant if not just an endless eternity of patiently waiting?

"Did you see my message?"

"I did."

"Are you not afraid I'll make good on my promise?"

"I've never been afraid of you."

Yet, perhaps you should be. He may no longer despise you with every fiber of his being, but you'd betrayed him and lost his trust. There will be no more second chances. You will stay unlike before, and if he must break every mirror in the world to ensure his heart remains beating, then it will be all too easy.

Taglist:

@yummyyummyinmytumny @lemon-koii @fsh1