#if you saw me post this on accident no you didn't

[pinkaditty]

Holidays with Ghouls (Sho Haizono x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

please read:

okay. big news + life update: i got into a major car accident a little while ago. my first one ever! i am in a lot of pain so things may be slow-going for a while and ill be unable to commit as much time to writing due to the tangled mess that is dealing with modern insurance companies and recovering from my injuries. thankfully its not so bad to be hospitalized, but its bad enough to limit my activity for the time being. i am somewhat ashamed to ask, but if you like my writing, please consider donating to my cashapp: $cindyfromstarbucks! my car was 100% totaled, and im gonna need to save up for a new one, and my job doesn’t pay very much. thank you for your consideration! please enjoy, regardless! (this paragraph will be on my posts indefinitely, probably until i fully recover)

a/n: LET ME START THIS OFF BY SAYING IT’S ENTIRELY SELF-INDULGENT… i have a green thumb and i’ve been growing a small garden lately (limited space. i hate captialism.) and i just thought “hm. what if we grew fresh ingredients for sho’s food truck?” and the idea stuck and didn’t leave no matter how much i tried 2 shake it off. mc is basically written as me im not gonna hold y’all, but i kept it 2 a minimum so it could still be an ‘x reader’. 

summary: self-indulgent reader x sho. in which you do something nice for him and he struggles to return the favor. 

no cw! enjoy!

big fan of the “woman that is so wound up all the time and extremely professional and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length distance” x “guy that is only a few years younger than the woman but loves calling her by age-appropriate honorifics (i.e. noona, ojou, jiejie, madame, etc) and goes out of his way to teach her how to fucking relax every once in a while” trope and essentially if i were with sho that is how the relationship would go LMFAOOOOOOO

You used to have a bit of a garden before becoming a student at Darkwick. A part of you often wondered if there were people tending to your garden now so you could return to it, well kept and exactly as you remember it, when you were cured of this curse and got this anomalous ring off of you. You'd never really had the idea to plant anything here; you were much too focused on missions and other incessant errands the ghouls saw fit to send you on. You didn't like it, but held your tongue regardless. If all went well, you wouldn't have to deal with this after less than a year. 

You were fond of a few ghouls, though. Some of them were a nice reprieve from the other harsher and more selfish ghouls. Haku was a great example of that, and so was Subaru, his dorm's captain. You'd grown fond on the Jabberwock ghouls, as they were always kind and polite. You didn't really mind the Obscuary ghouls, either. Even if odd, they were good natured, and never turned you away. You appreciated that Rui had a bit of a green thumb too, and would often stop by to assist him with plant care. 

The one ghoul you were the most fond of, despite his less than agreeable best friend, was Haizono, or Sho, as he insisted on being called. Sho, despite his friend Leo, was actually pretty friendly. You enjoyed the time you spent around him, whether that was collecting supplies from the diner, or training with him, or even helping him meal prep for the following day for his food truck. It was fun, spending time with Sho. You're almost angry the idea didn't dawn on you sooner.

Said idea is why you carefully sift through the dirt in your compost container, careful not to split any of the worms with your nails. The potatoes should be done growing by now. The idea had dawned on you one day when Sho mentioned not having enough potatoes to serve fries the following day. Potatoes were an easy crop. And they took three months, at most, to grow. Sure, if worse came to worst, you'd die, but growing potatoes was a good distraction and encouraged you to plan for the future, as though you wouldn't die. After a few favors from Benji and some begging towards the chancellor, you had a small garden behind the chapel. Granted, you'd just started it three months ago, so it wasn't as full as your garden back home, but it was good enough. It was hidden from the rest of campus by the surrounding trees, ensuring no one would find the garden unless they had reason to cut around the chapel, which wasn't necessary considering the path out front. Not only did it serve as your little place of respite, it allowed you to do nice things for others. You were just growing potatoes for now, but it felt like enough of a starter, at least. You’d just planted some tomato seeds that you’d hoped Sho would also find a use for. 

Once done harvesting a substantial batch of potatoes, you wrap them up in plastic bags to look like you bought them. It would save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’d grown them yourself. 

It’s pleasantly chilly outside, the still afternoon air heavy with promises of cold weather and a white winter holiday. Dirt remained underneath your fingernails from all that harvesting, but it was a small price to pay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and exertion as you made the trek to Vagastrom, heading for the nearby food truck. As expected, you find Sho sitting on one of his supply boxes, far underdressed for the cold weather. You can’t tell if he’s resistant to it or rebelling against it, but you can tell he’s cold. His cheeks and nose are tinged red and his eyes are squinted against the cold wind. You can even tell he’s sniffling with how often he inhales. You exhale both fondly and exasperatedly. The stubbornness of these ghouls was simultaneously attractive and irritating. 

You make it no secret you’re approaching, the bag of potatoes crinkling with your upbeat steps and your own runny nose sniffling in response to the cold wind. You place the bag of potatoes beside him with a heavy ‘thud’, to which he finally looks up, appearing jolted out of his thoughts. 

“Here,” you start, taking your scarf from around your neck and tying it around his without waiting for a reaction. “You must be an idiot to sit out in the cold with just your uniform on.”

“Senpai.” He greets you with wide eyes, watching but not protesting as you tie your scarf around his neck. He appears confused at first, his lips pursing at your actions, but seems to relent as he buries his face into the scarf. You watch as he settles into it, his eyes sliding shut against the cold wind, his nose and lips finding warm solace in the comfort of your scarf. Before long, he pulls it away, revealing himself back to the chilly air with a slight wince. “...No need. Thank you, though.” He glances up at you with a smile before rising to his feet and dusting off his knees. “Whatcha got here?” He gestures to the plastic bag before picking it up, far more effortlessly than you, and inspecting it. 

“Potatoes.” Your breath puffs out in a white cloud. “They’re for your food truck. I remembered you mentioned you were running low, so… I decided to help and buy you some.” At some point, you’d shifted your attention to the ground, toeing at a rock as you realized how ridiculous that sounded. Surely Sho could handle himself. He might even find your help embarrassing, when you really think about it. 

You sneak a glance at him and are relieved to see a small smile on his face as he observes the potatoes. He huffs out a light breath, his face visibly softening. “You didn’t have to do that.” He slings the bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to ruffle your hair and return the scarf. “Come on,” he turns around, headed for the door of the food truck. “You can help me prep.”

‘That’s only helpful if you’ll have any customers in this cold,’ you think to yourself, but decide not to say aloud. Instead, you watch the slow smile on his face as he nods towards you, and continues towards the truck. Crazy, how a simple glance of his could make your heart race. Something about the warmth of his smile, the feel of his fingers carding through your hair, and the leftover scent of his cologne lingering on your scarf tugged at your heart, just a little bit. 

You briskly follow after him, throwing the scarf back over his neck. “Keep it,” you say sternly, watching as he turns to you quizzically. “Have you seen the state of yourself in this cold?” The phrase ‘I want you to have it,’ lingers on your tongue, but you decide not to voice that, instead letting a small amused smile rest on your face. You vaguely gesture to him, your gaze flicking to his red cheeks and nose. He rolls his eyes, noting your point, and keeps the scarf around his neck, opening the side door to his food truck.

“Alright, fine. I’ll wash it and return it.”

As he steps inside the food truck, even from standing behind him you feel a wave of warmth. You follow, stepping inside, feeling the sweet relief of pleasant warm air and smelling the scent of roast chicken. The environment is warm and cozy, wrapping around you like a cushy blanket or a hug from a loved one. Sho closes the door behind you and you note your scarf is still around his neck. Something clicks.

“Wait a minute. You won’t need that.” You point to his scarf, your nose crinkling in mock displeasure. He instinctively flinches away, looking at you with a raised brow. He was seemingly already protective of your scarf, even though he’d only just received it. “Hand it over.”

“That’s hardly fair.” A crooked smile forms on Sho’s face and his brow raises higher. “Why do you assume I won’t need it?”

Indignantly, you gesture to the warm space surrounding you. Sizzling meat, a warm oven, and heaters in a corner, adjusting the temperature of the truck. “Vagastrom is literally right next to here. What do you need that for?”

He doesn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head at you. “I seem to remember a certain someone insisting I keep this scarf. Are you going to go back on your word?”

You clamp your mouth shut, remembering what you’d said and did earlier. He was right, you had insisted, even if only a little. You huff out a frustrated breath, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. He laughs at your display, pulling the scarf off of him and tossing it on a high shelf of boxes you couldn’t reach. “Like I said, I’ll wash it and return it.”

You decide to swallow this loss. You had other scarves at the chapel anyway, and if he was going to use it, at least it wasn’t going to waste. 

You look around the space again before taking off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. “Any plans for winter break? Will you be going anywhere?” 

“Nah.” Sho shook his head, checking on the chicken in the small oven before continuing to stir fry a vegetable medley on the stove, jutting his shoulder out towards the cutting board, covered in various vegetables. You wash your hands before heading over, carefully scraping at the dirt built up under your fingernails from digging. “Unless my… brother… goes, I’m not going. He’ll beat my ass if I don’t and he does.” A look of displeasure crosses Sho’s face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of Professor Hyde chastising Sho for not seeing his family over break. 

You head over to the vegetables laid out on the cutting board, and start with the garlic, peeling it out of its husk. “Sounds like a struggle.”

He scoffs, pouring soy sauce over the vegetables and tossing them before scraping them off on a nearby to-go container. “Holidays are always a struggle with pushy family.” Despite his outward scowl, amusement lights up his eyes for a moment. 

You chuckle, having finished chopping up the garlic and moving to a green bell pepper. You slice it open, its seeds spilling onto the cutting board. “Your family’s pushy?”

“Yes, too pushy sometimes.” Sho shakes his head, shooing you to the side as he grabs potholders to pull the chicken out of the oven. “My brother’s more like my parents than I am.” He carefully places the roast chicken down on a short counter. It’s golden brown, stuffed with rosemary sprigs, lemon slices, and garlic cloves. 

He places it to the side, readying the frying pain and reaching for the peppers you’d chopped, tossing them into the oil. You finish a pepper and reach for a leek next, slicing it into thick chunks. Your eyes flicker back over to the chicken momentarily, rosemary stems sticking out of it like a tail. “The rosemary stems look like a chicken tail.” You voice the thought absentmindedly, smiling to yourself. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sho glance over at the chicken himself. You hear a huffed laugh as he returns his attention to the peppers, sizzling in the oil. “Yeah, it does.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Speaking of, it was hard to find fresh rosemary this time around.”

You look up, having finished cutting the leek. A confused expression crosses your face. “Where in the world would you find fresh rosemary in the dead of winter?” You look away, reaching for a carrot, slicing it thinly.

“Rosemary’s an evergreen,” Sho states flatly, reaching for the leek and garlic you cut earlier, mixing it in with the batch of peppers on the stove and stirring them. “You can find that fresh anytime. What’s harder to find, however…” Sho trails off, leaving the stove for a split second, reaching for the bag of your potatoes he’d placed on the ground earlier. He opens the bag and pulls one out, some dirt still stuck in the indents of its skin. “...Is fresh potatoes. They’re typically harvested in the fall.” He smiles at you, before turning away to rinse it off.

Realizing you’d been caught in a lie, you turn away from him, putting all of your focus on the carrot in front of you. You hear his footsteps slowly approaching before he places a freshly washed potato right in front of you, his hand shaking with mirth. 

“Come on, MC. Don’t think I didn’t notice the dirt under your fingernails.” He chuckles before turning back to the stove, stirring the vegetables again. You drop the knife with a clatter and hide your hands behind your back, too nervous to check if you’d missed any spots. 

You sneak a glance up at him, mistakenly making eye contact with him. His eyes gleam with amusement and his smile is soft and fond. “...It can’t have been that obvious.” You decide to admit to it, realizing the heat in your cheeks probably gave it away. 

“It wasn’t.” Sho nods to you, pouring soy sauce over the stir-fried mixture and tossing it before scraping that off in a different to-go container. “I just happened to notice the dirt when you handed the scarf to me, and your potatoes smelled extra earthy.” He takes the pan off the heat, moving over to the chicken and carefully cutting out the breast. 

It’s silent for a few moments, you staring at that freshly cleaned potato and Sho slicing through the chicken, placing the breast in one to-go container and the wings in the other. Sho finally speaks up, though his voice is low. “...You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You look up again, just to find him turned away from you, his ears turning red. Silence falls again as you watch him check off the to-go containers he’s finished. You assume he’s trying to distract himself from the obvious blush on his face, but you can’t say for sure. Something about it makes you feel similar, your heart rate picking up and your face reddening more. It wasn’t due to your embarrassment anymore. “I dunno, I’m bad at thanking people. Just, well…” Sho trails off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, hiding his face from you. His voice lowers significantly, and contrastingly, the blush on his ears brightens more. “Thank you. I know potatoes take a while to grow. And…” He trails off again and swallows thickly. You don’t bother asking him to finish his sentence. The implications of his words grow somewhat heavy in your heart, and you wring your fingers nervously. Of course it was profound, growing potatoes for someone when you’re doomed to die, now in nine months. The thought of dedicating your time to anything that wasn’t curing your curse was odd, but this distraction had done you well nonetheless. You didn’t want Sho to feel bad about it at all. You were certain that, if anything, the gravity of being recognized by a girl doomed to die was dawning on him. 

The words spill out before you can really stop them. “Don’t worry about it, Sho. I did that because I wanted to.” Confessing this was almost as raw as confessing your feelings, and your chest tightens at that thought, but you continue despite that. “You’ve been kind to me since after our first mission. And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, including things as mundane as meal prep!” You gesture vaguely to the setting before you, hoping to get your point across. “I just randomly had the idea, and figured it couldn’t be so bad to act on it. It’s been a good distraction anyway, and what with all that happens here, a distraction does me some good.” Silence falls once more, and Sho finally turns to look at you, face flushed. He wipes his palms on his apron and worries his lip between his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the floor. “...So what if I used up three months to grow potatoes? The time will pass anyways.” You turn away from him, looking at the washed potato. You reach for it and pick up the knife, beginning to cut it into cube chunks. 

“...I guess you’re right.” You can hear a gentle smile in Sho’s voice, and it warms you up internally, feeling thankful he’s accepted the gift. You glance towards him, giving him a smile, and catch him staring. There’s an odd glimpse of admiration in his eyes, which makes your cheeks warm.

“Go on and finish cutting the chicken.” You wave off his stare and jerk your gaze away from him, hiding your blush and focusing on the cubed potato. 

He scoffs and turns away, picking up his knife. “Giving me orders in my own kitchen, huh?” 

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. The warmth of the heaters settles into your skin and the warmth of the previous pleasant conversation settles into your heart. You glance down at the bag of potatoes that started it all. The eyes of the potatoes seem to stare up at you knowingly.

You’re carrying a short stack of to-go containers outside to Sho’s bike, Bonnie, your boots crunching the frosty path beneath you. Snow would surely be coming soon. You gently place the stack in the box on the back of Bonnie, careful to make sure none of them tip over. You hear more crunching footsteps and turn around to see Sho, carrying the rest of the boxes. He places them in the box as well and organizes them before securing the box with a few straps. He steps back and exhales, smiling to himself. You can’t help but smile at his pride.

“Now, to deliver these…” Sho approaches Bonnie and gets on, patting her twice affectionately. The gentle thrum of the engine comes to life in response. He looks to you and smiles, and you notice he’s wearing your scarf. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the chapel?”

You eye the box of food already on the back of Bonnie and shake your head. You wouldn’t test fate today. Your eyes find your scarf again, sitting snugly around Sho’s neck. “Well, at least you have a use for it.” You say, resigned. Part of you wonders if you’ll ever get it back. 

Sho smiles, reaching up to touch the scarf. “Again, I’ll wash and return it.” He looks up to the sky, and you follow suit, noting the pale white blanket of clouds blocking the sun. “That said…” He starts, lowering his gaze to you again. “It is cold out. I may need this for longer than I expected.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and his smile turns crooked, as though suppressing a smirk. 

“...I’m not getting that back, am I?”

Sho shrugs, revving up Bonnie. “Who knows?” He smiles fondly at you one last time before speeding off, the wheels of Bonnie leaving tire tracks on the frosty path. You watch him as he leaves, his hair lifting in the wind, the tendrils of your scarf billowing behind him. You watch until he turns a corner and you can only faintly hear the rumbling of Bonnie’s engine. ‘I guess he really did have customers, even in this cold…’ You think to yourself, a faint smile growing on your face. You inhale the crisp cool air, feeling a bit cooler around your neck now that you’re missing a scarf. You idly look back up at the sky again, wondering if it really would snow today. Despite you enjoying the stillness of the winter air on Darkwick campus, the cold eventually bites at you, urging you to return to the chapel. Your footsteps crunch along the frosted path, following Bonnie’s tracks.

It’s Christmas evening, and things are finally winding down for the day. You’d been to Frostheim and made snow angels with Luca and Kaito, had coffee and played chess with Tohma, and Jin, despite himself, hadn’t asked you to run any errands for him today. You’d been to Vagastrom and exchanged gifts with Alan, tolerated Leo’s selfies with you, and looked around for Sho, but hadn’t found him. You’d been to Jabberwock and fed the animals with Haru, watched a romance movie with Towa, and played a holiday-themed horror game with Ren. You’d been to Sinostra and done some gambling with Taiga while Ritsu tagged along to ensure Sinostra’s reputation wasn’t damaged further, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Romeo despite him saying your large coat made you resemble a slug. You’d been to Hotarubi and had tea and holiday sweets with Haku, Subaru, Zenji, and Lyca, who was visiting Subaru. You’d been to Obscuary and had Rui’s new holiday-themed drinks with Ed, chattering time away at the bar. You’d been to Mortkranken and reluctantly exchanged gifts with Yuri, aware of the fit he’d throw if you hadn’t gotten him anything, and pleasantly exchanged gifts with Jiro, reminding him to take good care of himself. 

Finally, after a very long, exhausting, and eventful day, you were back at the chapel, counting the vines growing under your skin, glowing lavender like the flower on the back of your neck. Some small flowers broke your skin and bloomed here and there, leaving the exit wounds somewhat inflamed. Granted, you didn’t have much time left, and these vines made that clear, but this holiday had been much better than you’d expected it to be. You appreciated the effort most of the ghouls put forth to make this holiday at least somewhat enjoyable for you, especially considering it may be your last. 

You sit by the fireplace in your room, watching the snow fall from the sky through your window. You had a tiny pine tree near your bed, decorated with handmade tinsel from the three Hotarubi ghouls and some small ornaments from Jin. You wore new pajamas from Romeo, though you weren’t sure how in the world he knew your size. You had a new bracelet from Taiga, who had originally forgotten who he’d gotten it for. On your nightstand lay a dreidel from Kaito and a snow globe from Luca. The hot chocolate you sipped on was a gift from Tohma, and some wine awaited you in your fridge, a gift from the Obscuary ghouls. You had a few new ugly holiday sweaters from various ghouls, Yuri and Ren included, and some not-so-ugly ones, thanks to Haru and Towa. A thick, heavy book about the origins of the laws of Japan sat on a nearby table, a gift from Ritsu that you had no plans to read. You had lit a scented candle from Leo, which you thought was surprisingly thoughtful, and had set aside the wax melts from Alan, planning to use them after the candle ran out. The new watch from Jiro was wrapped around your wrist, displaying the increasingly late time. In all of this, you wondered where your gift from Sho was. You hadn’t been able to spot him today, and the thought made you feel a little down. You’d wanted to spend some time with him today, but guessed he was probably too busy preparing Christmas dinner for all of Vagastrom and Hotarubi that he simply hadn’t had the time. You set your hot chocolate down on top of the accursed thick book and sprawl out in your chair, turning to the window again. Regardless, this had been a surprisingly wonderful holiday. The ghouls had given you gifts and willingly spent time with you, doing various fun activities and filling you with holiday cheer. It was a nice escape from the reality of your situation, even if it was only for a little while. 

You check the vines under your skin again, resisting the urge to scratch at where a new white flower had bloomed near your elbow. You could feel that, soon after the holiday season mellowed down, it would be back to reality, and you’d have to face your own death once again. Part of you dreaded the eventual change in weather and in the length of days, knowing your predicted end was growing near. But a part of you was also resigned to it. Regardless of whether you were due to die soon or not, this had been a nice holiday. And you could stand to live in the now, just this once. 

You carefully pluck the flower from your skin, wincing at the sharp pain. You bleed for only a few moments before it clots up. At least you could stave off the growth of the curse for now. 

You hear a gentle knock at your door. Physically, you’re too exhausted to have much more fun at this point, but mentally, you could use a pick-me-up. You head down your stairs towards the door, opening it crack by crack, trying to prevent too much of the cold wind from slipping inside. You peer through the open doorway, jolting in surprise when a familiar pair of dark blue eyes meet yours. 

“Hey,” Sho starts, lifting two boxes in his hands. “Thought you could use a warm holiday dinner.”

Your heart swells and all at once, a wave of emotion hits you. Sure, you didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t stop these ghouls from caring, and that was evident in the gifts piled up in your room, the fun you’d had all throughout the day, and the ghoul now standing at your doorstep, seeking more time with you. There was a reason he was your favorite. 

You swing the door open wider, unable to hide the smile that breaks across your face all at once. “I was looking for you, you know.” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes in mock disappointment. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Cooking.” Sho lifts a brow and shrugs, tilting his head at you. He smiles fondly at you, and you notice he’s finally dressed appropriately for the season; a hat covering most of his hair, a matching coat and gloves keeping him warm, and your scarf, tucked snugly against his neck inside his coat. Yet again, you realize you are probably never getting that scarf back. 

“That scarf is still mine.” You gesture at his scarf, and he laughs, reaching up to brush the built up snow off of it. 

“And I’m still using it.” He replies, smiling wider. “So… Gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.” His breath puffs into white clouds, and you notice his cheeks and nose are tinged red again thanks to the cold. You smile and step aside, letting him in. 

You close the door behind him and he shakes off the snow built up on his coat. When he looks at you, his smile holds the warmth of a thousand candles and his voice holds the joy of a thousand holiday carols. “So… got any mistletoe? If not, we can start with gifts. Either works for me.” A blush covers his face as he pushes the boxes towards you, his smile growing wider and fonder.

You figure, regardless of how much time you have left, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a holiday with your favorite ghoul.

Bonus:

The gift, wrapped surprisingly delicately inside one of the boxes, is a knitted scarf in your favorite colors. It’s not bad, but you can tell it was done by a beginner. Holding it in your hands, a small smile grows on your face, and you sigh, totally resigned. 

By god, you are never getting that scarf back. 

“Well, thank you for your collateral replacement, but I expect that scarf back one day.”

Sho shakes his head, smiling as he chews on your shared meal, packed in the other box he was carrying. “No can do. It’s still cold and I still need a scarf.”

“I’m withholding the mistletoe, then.”

Sho huffs, rolling his eyes and continuing the meal. At his lack of a reaction, you purse your lips, thinking of another thing to withhold that might gift you a victory. Sho speaks, having swallowed his mouthful, “I can find other reasons to kiss you-”

“I’m withholding the potatoes.”

Sho looks at you in shock, dropping his forkful back onto his plate. “...I’ll think about it.”

Maybe you would get that scarf back, after all.

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a/n: it's done. finally it is done. finally! i've been writing this romance fic 4 a long while so im glad it is finally done

thank you all so much for reading!! as usual, i love likes, but especially comments, reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please feel free 2 fill up my inbox with whatever, i love talking 2 u all! but be warned my responses will be slow... im still recovering!

happy holidays 2 you all! i hope, whether you're surrounded by family, friends, or by yourself, that it's a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season 4 u. merry christmas 2 those who celebrate, and happy kwanzaa 2 those who celebrate that as well!! not very well versed in other winter holidays, but may they be joyous and merry!

[nocasdatsgay]

Kept - Harlots of Autumn Fic

Pairing: Reader/Beron; Mentions of past Reader/Lucien and mentions of past Reader/Vanserra Brother | Rating: E | Word Count: 2230 |

Autumn Harlots Master Post| Previous Part: Sold | Read on ao3

Summary: Lucien was gone from Autumn. The High Lord requests your presence a week later to find out if you’re worth keeping. 

Trigger Beron. Vague mentions of past non-con. Dubious consent. Power imbalance. Non-con due to power imbalance. Blow jobs. P in V sex. Fire Rope. Inappropriate use of High Lord Powers

A/N: Merry Crisis. It’s still Christmas Eve here so. Anyways no time like the present. HEED THE WARNINGS. 

Gen Tagging List: @secret-third-thing @readychilledwine @acourtofladydeath @lady-of-tearshed @daycourtofficial @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @thisblogisaboutabook @ninthcircleofprythian @pit-and-the-pen @ysmtttty @jon-snows-man-bun If I tagged you by accident let me know

A month of mourning. The whole Forest House was in black daily, solemn moods on every face. The only person you mourned was Lucien. He was so kind to you for so long. He kept his brothers at bay for the first year but eventually they got their hands on you. 

Leon, one of the two you were supposed to be mourning, was the roughest. He liked it when you cried- be it from pleasure or pain. He always made you look him in his ugly brown eyes while he fucked you. And he always forced an orgasm out of you. You might as well enjoy it too, he would whisper in your ear. 

If there was a grave to spit on you would have done it. 

The other brother was just an annoyance when he was alive. Sloppy and drunk most of the times he called for you. You could get him off with your hands and he would pass out immediately after. When he did fuck you he was quick. Maybe it was a blessing he died before taking a wife. 

It was only five days after the announcement of what happened that you received a letter with the High Lord’s seal. Your heart stopped when you saw he requested you meet him in his quarters after dinner. You tossed the letter and burned it- you didn’t want the other two girls, Beca and Rhian finding it. They were kind but even after a few years you still didn't trust them fully yet. 

When you went, you put on one of your better dresses. A burnt orange one that you wore last month at the ball. It was the newest, you felt maybe it would look better if you showed off how you appreciated his generosity. There was a guard at the door. He looked down his nose at you before knocking. A call from the other side and he let you in. 

“High Lord,” you walked in and curtsied. You kept your eyes on the floor. “You called for me?”

Silence. You didn’t look up, too afraid of this being a test. 

“I did.” He finally broke the silence after a moment. You kept your eyes on the decorated carpet. “Do you know why I called for you?” 

“No, High Lord.” 

He hummed. “Beauty but no brains then. That explains why that runt didn’t wish to keep you. I do not know why, considering he was no better.” 

You heart quickened. 

“I gave you a task when you were hired. Entertain my youngest. You must be abysmal company if you could not keep his attentions. Do you have anything to say for yourself? You may speak.” 

“High Lord, I assure you I did my best-“

“Your best obviously wasn’t good enough. Did you know? Of his dalliances with that creature?” 

You winced. “No, High Lord. I did not.”

He hummed. “I believe you. If there was one thing he did learn, it was how to be sly. Besides, if you lied I would know. I always know.” He paused and you held your breath. “That still leaves me with you. What to do with you? Are you worth keeping?” You didn’t answer. “Show me why I should keep you.” 

Your stomach sank. You knew what he wanted. 

“How would you prefer me?” You replied softly. 

“Take three steps, then kneel.” Three small steps and you kneeled on the plush carpet. “Eyes on me.”

Your gaze snapped up. He looked at you from where he lounged in his chair. You had never seen him in such tight clothes. A simple and loose ruby undershirt, the top untied. Your gaze flickered to his brown leather trousers- another article of clothing you’d never seen him in. He looked younger like this. You’d call him handsome if he were a stranger. If you didn’t know what kind of male he was. He stood. You could see and smell his arousal even from a short distance. 

“You are a pretty one,” he stepped up and grabbed you by the chin. Gods, he looked like Eris this close. “But are you worth keeping after your failure to please that runt? Open your mouth.”

He let go and you opened your mouth, resting your tongue on your bottom lip. He forced two fingers into your mouth. You only recoiled slightly from the sudden movement but kept yourself from gagging as he pushed back further. You took a calculated risk: you closed your mouth around his fingers and sucked gently. He grinned. 

“You’re a nasty little cunt. To think you were pure when we got you.” He pulled his fingers out and straightened himself. “Show me how you please a High Lord.” 

You gathered up your hair in the ribbon you kept on your wrist. He laughed at you but you didn’t pay him any mind. With your hair secured, you reached out for his trousers. For half a moment, you wondered if it would be sacrilegious to pretend this was Lucien. You did that sometimes. You wish you knew more when he bedded you so that you could make him feel good too. 

You focused and realized Beron had a belt on- it wasn’t typical Autumn fashion. Still, you undone it from the buckle and undid the button on the trousers. The dark hair on his navel came into view and his clothes were pushed aside. Heat pooled instinctively between your legs at the peak of his straining cock. When you pulled it out, you didn’t know if you physically or mentally made a noise. It was unfair how attractive the Vanserras were considering their personalities. Looking at it fully, it was just as pretty as his sons’. His hand went to your head while you stroked him. Gods, you hope you did this like he wanted. His hand didn’t leave your head while you licked up the underside of his length. 

You kept your eyes up, looking at him from under your lashes when you took him in your mouth. You bobbed once, coating him in your saliva. He tasted different- sharp like Fire Whiskey. He groaned, fingers digging into your scalp to hold you still. You knew what would come next and relaxed your jaw. 

“Good girl,” he sighed and thrusted into your mouth. 

Your mind drifted. Lucien called you a good girl. When he stretched you out with his fingers. When he made you come on his cock. The memory made your panties wet. Your gaze unfocused thinking about him; sucking his cock. He’d reward you and make you feel good too. Beron must have noticed. He grabbed your ponytail and yanked your head back. 

“You focus on me,” he snarled, flames in his eyes. 

“Yes sir.” You muttered and opened your mouth again. 

You made a point to stare at him as he thrusted into your mouth, hand tight on your hair. Did he fuck his wife like this? Did he fuck the other girls like this? They never said. They only talked about the heirs. 

“I see why they wanted you,” he groaned, his thrusts getting rougher and threatening to gag you. “You’re so fucking pretty on your knees. Cry for me and I’ll give you a treat.” 

Beron started pushing down your throat. You gagged once but caught yourself. As commanded, your eyes watered. He seemed to like that. It didn’t take long for him to come down your throat. You swallowed, the aftertaste like whiskey coating your mouth. You desperately prayed to The Mother you wouldn’t cough or choke. He stepped back, your salvia leaving a string from the head to your lips. You didn’t dare wipe it away. 

“Get up.” Beron caught his breath. He let go of your hair and you watched him stroke himself again. “Get up and bend over the chair.” 

You got to your feet and scrambled to the chair he’d been sitting in. You bent over the left arm. In your mind you were terrified but your body- you could smell your own arousal and his. You told yourself it was from thinking of Lucien. Deep down you knew the truth. You liked it. You bit your lip as he came up behind you. You stood your toes, hopping to lift your rear the way he might want. 

His hands gathered your skirt, lifting. He reached under and you inhaled sharply when his warm hands caressed your thigh. He tugged on your undergarments, making them fall to the floor at your feet. 

“I’m keeping these,” he said. 

You could hear him move. He reached down and you made sure to quickly step out of them. You didn’t understand why he would want your undergarments. His sharp inhale startled you. 

“You almost smell good enough to eat. Maybe one day if you earn it.” 

You didn’t know what that meant. 

Suddenly warm fire wrapped around your neck- he had made a fire rope. It didn’t burn but was still warm against your skin. Then he pulled. You gagged and choked as you tried to sit up and lessen the pressure. He laughed and tugged it again. 

“Lift your leg whore.” 

You steadied yourself and lifted your left leg up onto the arm of the chair. Then two more fire ropes wrapped around your wrists. You yelled when your hands were yanked off the chair and moved to your back. He pulled on those, holding you up and you tried to shift your weight to take the pressure off your throat. The rope fire holding your arms behind your back held fast just like the rope on your neck. But it seemed to be what he wanted. You felt him let one hand go and throw up your skirts. He run his fingers along your slit. 

“Whore indeed.” You whimpered when he pushed two fingers into you with ease. “My boys trained you well. Are you always this needy?” 

You knew better than to answer. His fingers felt around until he hit a spot that made you clench. The bastard chuckled. He loosened his hold of the fire on your neck long enough to shove his cock into you without warning. You moaned involuntarily. 

“Been a long time since I had such a tight cunt.” He thrusted and jolted you forward. He let out a deep groan and did it again. “Maybe you are worth keeping.” 

Beron fucked you in long hard strokes, dragging himself out slowly only to thrust into you quick and hard. The chain on your neck tightened, making you dizzy. You tried to focus, to figure out what he wanted from you. Did he want you to come? Did he want you to be silent or vocal? Vocal seemed to be what he wanted. Each time you gasped and whined when he tugged the chain made him grip your waist harder. 

And it felt good. 

Each stroke hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. It didn’t help that each thrust rubbed you against the arm of the chair, stimulating you from the outside. And with the pressure from the chain on your throat- it was hard not to let go. 

“You like this don’t you,” he whispered. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you gasped. 

His fingers dug into your thigh.“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, high lord.”

“Good girl.” You whined and he groaned. “I’m going to cum inside of you and you’re going to walk out with my seed in your cunt. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you struggled to get out, “High Lord.” 

He finally loosened the chain of fire on your neck and held you by the ones on your wrists. He cursed and came. You could feel the heat of him coat the inside of you. Then unexpectedly, he pulled you up flush against him. 

“Come for me.” He whispered in your ear. “Come for your high lord.” 

A command your body couldn’t disobey. You moaned loudly, pulsing around him, pleasurable warmth rolling through your body. It felt so good you forgot for a moment who had you in his grasp. Then the ropes vanished and he let go. You fell face first panting into the chair cushion. He stepped back, pulling out and leaving his cum dripping out of you. 

“Clean up your mess.” 

You pushed yourself up, turning to see him watching you intensely. Your eyes dropped to his softening cock. It was muscle memory at that point. You got on your knees and licked him clean. You looked up at him the whole time, watching to see if he approved. He reminded you of Asher, the way his face held no emotion or tell at what he was thinking. Then he shoved you away. 

“You can stay. Don’t make me have to call for you again, understand?” He tucked himself back into his trousers. 

“Yes High Lord.” 

“Out.” 

You scrambled to your feet, his sticky mess dripping down your thighs like he promised. It was by the grace of The Mother no one was in the hall as you made your way to your chambers. Beca and Rhian were missing when you entered- another blessing. You were shaking by the time you drew a bath and got into the water. You washed away the smell of him and tried desperately to not think about what would have happened if you had not pleased him. 

[idv-deluded-inventor]

"... Log number two hundred forty-seven."

The man had been residing in his room after a quick skirmish around the underground passageways. He didn't dare to go back down there again, even though he made a new tenative ally there. He can't bear to be in spaces where the air isn't always fresh, especially when considering his health. Regardless, he came back before he had to deal with that. And other threats too, probably.

His glasses had lenses for once, reducing the glare of his lit screens. His work room was surprisingly neat. Minus the fact that he heavily barricaded the door with his own unique defense mechanism, nothing was scattered or carelessly thrown about. His papers were neatly stacked on the desk, his monitors were in an organized three by three fashion, and his project... Or rather his daughter, was idly standing nearby his computer like a mannequin. Perfectly still, yet the head hung low with slack limbs. There were wires connected from the back to the PC tower, but even then he kept the cables all tied up.

His keyboard and monitors were mechanical, along with the tower and station his daughter was planted at. But his interactive screens were holograms emitting from small devices on his desk. It displayed him actively recording what he was saying. Marking the date, time, the length of the audio, even the exact decibel he was speaking at.

"The blueprints have been uploaded to my daughter's memory repository. She can now navigate the manor safely and perhaps be a guide for others as well. I've made sure it's in a separate folder, entirely different from the ones I uploaded from my world."

He paused and stared over at her, even though the device only picked up on his silence.

"... I have mainly been utilizing this as a means of recording my progress on my work and ensuring that I made no errors along the way. However I have neglected to mention how archiac my setting is. Not only am I three hundred years into the past, there's irregularities springing up everywhere I turn."

"Many are discussing about their residency here, how a game of sorts has occurred during their stay. And I have yet to even experience it myself. And the farthest I've heard other residents coming from was 2023... A mere ninety-nine years away from mine. All technology I've utilized here are of my own creation, so nobody but besides me and a few other genuises would know how to navigate it..."

"... As for my daughter, all efforts are focused on the heart program. The only reason why it's been a work in progress for this long is because empathy isn't inherited nor learned. Like every program I've ran, it must be taught continuously and repetitively. Even if it takes an eternity, anything can be saved. As long as the internal parts are secure, lessons are treated like memories. Therefore they don't ever truly fade... Even one as mundane as a conversation, what one experiences, how they process it in their mind, heart, and soul. How all three work together to create a unique reaction amongst everyone every time without fail... It's why people are so predictable yet not at the same time."

"But my daughter shouldn't function without a heart. There needs to be room for subjectivity in her software to enable her to have her own judgement. Her own sense of morality. For her to take offense for herself and possibly for others. Even if that's considered flawed, isn't that what's hardwired in our minds anyway? Nobody ever truly thinks strictly logically on every decision they make. And we still need to satiate our own needs... That's different for anyone that's ever breathed. Which is why I'm taking my time here. Even if I spend an eternity in this foreign land, I'll never give up on her."

He stopped the recording and noted how long it went on for. He let out a sigh as he took a sip of water.

"... This log is far too lengthy, even though there are still twenty four terabytes left on the storage. Let me splice out that middle part and... Hm, deleting it isn't necessary. Although these logs will be uploaded to her data by the time she's finished... I'll just arrange a separate folder for this. Perhaps this will be a log for my expereinces here rather than my work. Suitable enough."

As he did exactly that, he tapped the corner of the hologram for it to fade away.

"... Strange, when did I ever start expressing my own thoughts related outside my work..."

Then a knock was heard at the door. He pulled up closer to his desk to check one of his monitors. A hooded individual stood at his door as he merely frowned and put a hand on his chin.

"... You again."

He pressed a button, and the whir of mechanical parts made way for the door to open.

[magentasnail]

long distance

[lesliemeyers]

doing Mysterion art inspired by a Batman cover just seemed... right

+ closeups under the cut ↴

[martyryo]

More vamp marla cause I keep thinking about her (click for better quality 😿)

Closeups

[joeypotterdaily]

119/366 days of joey potter 2x10- high risk behavior

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

I know in the grand scheme of things that this is by no means a lot, but it doesn't stop me from being FLOORED by the reception of my Rayllum Month stuff?!?! Like these PROPORTIONS are NUTS to me and I'm just over here in my bedroom sobbing my eyes out that my stuff (apparently) resonates with people the way I really want it to.

(^ the proportions in question)

Like, out of 895 people, and SO FAST (6 days, as of my posting this), 15 subscribed and I've got 79 kudos?! And 16 bookmarks?! AND 17 PEOPLE CARED ENOUGH TO COMMENT WHAT THE HECK?!?!?! I'm an emotional mess you guys and ik it's not a lot but it means EVERYTHING to me that people like my writing and I just CAN'T-

[septfair]

ily tragic fact ily 2015 chicago and 2016 off-bway's fall fair suite ily waiting for the drop ily uranium suite

[legendofrhythm]

You're so back.

[atsoomi]

Fall is pleasantly chilly in October. 

It slots between summer and winter to bring out the best of both seasons. The leaves change because they have to— because everyone has to— and the weather becomes a pleasant concoction that urges you to take walks and appreciate the whimsical scene. It’s also the season when seasonal depression hits you harder than the leaves hit the sidewalk. 

This year, however, is different to you. The chill of the fall isn’t as biting as it usually is. 

This year’s fall comes to you in the form of a dark haired lover with a spark in his eyes, in the form of whispered jokes in the dead of the night and romantic notes left next to warm breakfasts, in the form of a winning lottery ticket. 

It comes to you in the form of your boyfriend of a few months— kuroo tetsurō. 

You find that you complement each other well: he teaches you to be more spontaneous and you teach him to slow down, he teaches you how to cook his favorite meals and you teach him how to make your favorite drinks, you watch his favorite movies and he reads your favorite books. 

Most nights, you can’t agree on how to spend time together. Your boyfriend is active in a way you could never see yourself be, and the idea of going out always rivals staying home— it’s like asking where to eat from. But in some rare instances, the stars and planets align and you find something to agree on.

That’s how you find yourself sitting on a park bench, mid-October, enjoying the chill of the weather and your ice cream cones. Your hand affectionately rests on his knee as he prattles on about people and how they feel towards vanilla ice cream. 

“People don’t actually hate vanilla ice cream, everyone just says that because they’re affected by the public opinion.” He mumbles as he bites into his biscuit— coincidentally a vanilla cone. 

You hum thoughtfully, hand sliding up to his thigh. “I don’t think I like vanilla ice cream.” 

He turns to you with furrowed brows and a look of betrayal, “traitor.” 

You laugh at his upset face and he grows more offended. The hand you had on his thigh is lifted to mess up his hair (more than it already is) as you relish in being the one to tease him for once. 

“Sorry pumpkin, I must always tell the truth. I’m not a liar.” 

He seems to inflate to full size at your comment, reminding you of the way he towers over you even when you’re sitting down. “Oh yeah? How come you always lie about the leftovers then?” 

“Tetsu, those are my leftovers, in my house. I have the right to do whatever I want with them.” 

“Not when you promise to save them for your loving amazing gorgeous boyfriend.” 

“I have a loving amazing gorgeous boyfriend?” 

He snorts at your reply and you cheer internally at your win. You look at each other with matching smiles and the atmosphere around you changes subtly. You block out the sound of the trees and the wind as your mind fills with thoughts of the man sitting next to you. Street lights cast a soft glow on his face, and you think he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. 

He seems to be thinking the same as the smile you shared fades away and his face relaxes. A certain look flashes across his eyes and you feel a jolt of electricity course through you at the silent communication you’re having. You wonder what he’s thinking about and silently pray that it’s something good, that he’s not realizing that your right side isn’t your good side.

You tilt your head to the side as you continue observing him and he smiles lightly at your glassy eyes and pursed lips. The shadow cast over his face doesn’t dim down the light in his eyes; your hand itches to reach over and trace his eyebrows and wander across his face to drink him in fully.

“I think I love you.” 

Your breath hitches and all the thoughts about touching him disperse at the simple words that he mutters quietly— breathlessly and delicately. 

It’s not what you were expecting him to confess tonight, but you can’t say you’re surprised. You’ve been walking along the edge of love with him for a few weeks now, playfully teasing each other about the idea of forever, the idea of more serious promises. It’s no surprise that, out of the two of you, he let himself be taken by love first.

Now, you’re left standing on the edge, looking down at the depths of love and wondering if you’re ready to take the risk. Past mistakes pull you back and the fear you’ve held with you for a while warns you against it, whispering in your being that regret leaves a poisonous taste.  

But the sight of kuroo in front of you, with rosy cheeks and hopeful eyes and lips you’re all too familiar with, gives you the push of courage you need to jump in, headfirst. 

 The smile on his face doesn’t falter while you’re readying yourself to say the words, as if he can read it on your face— as if he always knew it would play out like this. He waits for you to take the chance. 

“I think I love you, too” 

His face breaks out in a grin that’s so wide it makes your cheeks hurt and it takes you a second to realize that it's your own grin that’s hurting your cheeks. Inching closer to kill the space between you, he puts his arm around your shoulder. You turn your body to face him and you fit together effortlessly, like puzzle pieces. 

You don’t think twice about kissing him, dropping the cone in your hand to place both hands on him. The sound of his cone hitting the ground makes you smile at the eagerness coming from both of you. 

His eyes flutter shut as you angle your face to unite your lips and the taste of vanilla overtakes your senses. The softness of the moment, combined with your hunger for him, makes the fire in your stomach burn vigorously. The hand that wanders away from your collusion and caresses your knee makes you want to bounce on him and disregard public decency. 

You’re one second away from clawing at his sweater when he pulls away breathlessly. Flushed cheeks and a crooked grin greet you when you open your eyes, and the butterflies in your stomach turn violent. You have no idea how he hasn’t lost control yet. 

He brings your head closer to rest his forehead against yours, your smiles mirroring each other’s. His warm breath fans over your lips and you have to control the urge to go back to your ritual because he’s clearly enjoying the soft gesture. 

You eventually pull back to change positions and rest your head on his shoulder; he welcomes the change in position with an arm back on your shoulder. 

The park looks so different to you now, even if it hasn’t changed in the slightest. You’re looking at things through a different lens now that everything has changed. You know what it means for both of you to say those words; you know the plans you’re going to draw up together now, and you know that he wants this to work out as much as you do. 

Your face grows warm as all the possibilities cloud your mind. The arm around your shoulder intensifies the tickling sensation across your skin. You look at him and he’s already looking at you. Words escape you at the sight of the warm unbridled love you see in his eyes, and you can’t believe you’ve gotten this lucky.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He whispers, leaning over to close the space again. 

“Me too.” You breathe out before he seals your promise with a kiss.

[your-zipper-is-down]

UU Week Day 7, a song/poem/quote you associate with Undead Unluck:

Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Killing Me to Love You

I'm cheating a little, because I chose a song I associate specifically with BillyTella, BUT HEAR ME OUT.

The song I associate most with UU is 01; it is the reason I started the manga, and it has a dear place in my heart. BUT I felt it was a cop-out lmao.

(The other song is Teppeki, but I'm already writing a fic inspired by it OOPS)

SO- I took the opportunity to try and materialize the BillyTella AMV that plays in my head with this song- mind you, I hadn't touched an editing software in like, 6 years, but as soon as I saw the prompt I knew I had to try to do it. It's a mess. But it is my mess 💖

It's mostly for their 100th loop versions, but I throw some refs to the next loop in there too.

(The reason why I chose to upload it to yt instead of like- here, is because: 1. Wanted to add subs, 2. Wanted to embed it into my AO3 account to have the 7 prompts in there)

[karliahs]

fic: to work, to rest [bnha]

fandom: my hero academia relationships: aizawa shouta & eri wordcount: 2.5k summary:

Three times Eri falls asleep on Aizawa.

[octonauts-lover]

GUYS why are my drafts being leaked I keep pressing save and it thinks I mean post :(( this one post keeps trying to slip through my fingers like SIR you're not READY YET

[cosmama]

He's literally never braided hair before, let alone hair that spills like starlit ink, liquid constellations pooling in the palms of his hands and dripping between his fingers. All the same, Gene still takes his time braiding the spools of starlight, methodically weaving uneven and sloppy braids while humming a nameless tune. // @castershot

cosmos lays against his bare chest, eyes closed, as she enjoys the rhythmic moment of her head rising up and down along with his breath. the soft beat of his heart reminds her of how different they are; a fact that once would've disgusted her...but now brings a strange sense of delight to her being. she closes her eyes, breathing in the scent of him possessively while he plays with hair - her silver tresses only rival is the moonlight itself, every strand brushing against surprisingly soft hands while the rest spills across both of their nude bodies ( and 'her' hair, may or may not be, another element of this form to help lure victims into a trance for her. but only maybe ).

her eyes eventually flutter open as she comes down from her afterglow and one of her hands begin to absentmindedly trace along the curves of his muscles. eventually she pauses near one of his scars in curiosity and studies it. he was sensitive about them although she had no knowledge of why - his mind was ( frustratingly ) protected from her many attempts to nosily poke and prod at his thoughts and memories. without a word, she rises up from his chest and continues to study him without blinking. gene doesn't pay her any mind, used to her many oddities and stares - probably only thinking that's finally decided to eat him ( and in truth, it is still a constant fantasy ).

instead, she reaches to softly brush her pales fingers against the two rough and jagged scar lines that run across his left cheek - a decision that quickly destroys the serene atmosphere after their hours of lovemaking.

gene violently jerks away from her touch, dropping his hold on her hair while moving to put as much distance between them as he could. he nearly falls off the bed in the process but he recovers and jerks a finger angirly towards his door. ❛ go. ’ he hisses, his eyes flaring with an emotion she cannot comprehend. cosmos doesn't move or speak, only staring at him unnervingly with her head slightly tilted in confusion.

❛ i said GO! ’ he shouts again while she continues to sit there, her expression becoming increasingly more unreadable the more his own frustration grew.

❛ you forget who you speak to. ’ cosmos doesn't flinch at his words, just passively watching as he clutches his chest in pain - the man struggling not to hyperventilate while fighting off a panic attack. she's once again reminded of how different they are: he is human and she is not. ❛ in fairness...i guess i forget that you are still a child as well. ’ his eyes narrow at that, darkening in barely contained anger - she cuts him off before he can interrupt her. ❛ you wish to be stronger all while still clinging onto some silly fear that i do not care enough to know about. ’ it was a lie; but even ancient aliens could be petty.

❛ ultimately it is rather...unfortunate i think. ’ cosmos states in a clipped tone before she blinks and is gone, leaving behind any trace she had been there in the first place.

[whatislifebesidesrehearsal]

Spotlight Operator: I’m counteracting the two bottles of water I drank by drinking this Mountain Dew.

submitted by @locallibrarylover