#it was longer than I had intended

[starrysnowdrop]

FFXIVWrite 2022

#5: Cutting Corners

Idiom: to undertake something in what appears to be the easiest, quickest, or cheapest way, especially by omitting to do something important or ignoring rules.

When Cid runs into G’raha at the market, he realizes that it’s too late to get a proper gift for his new girlfriend for a holiday that he’s never even heard of.

“Oh Cid, good morning!” Cid heard a familiar masculine voice call out to him, and when he turned around, he saw a shorter, redheaded miqo’te with his heterochromatic eyes smiling back at him with something in his hands.

“Good morning G’raha!” Cid replied, though his mind was busy swimming with all of the tasks that the Ironworks had planned for the day.

“Didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you’d go straight to St. Coinach’s Find.”

Cid shrugged. “I was picking up a shipment of supplies from the Goldsmith’s Guild in Ul’dah that we might need in the workshop. Don’t want to be out of nuts and bolts!”

“Yes, don’t want to put yourself in a bind!”

G’raha lifted his arm to gesture while he spoke, and Cid saw a bit clearer that the miqo’te had what appeared to be a small box wrapped in delicate pink silk with a tiny, blue flowers attached on top with a thin, pink and white ribbon.

Though Cid knew that it wasn’t any of his business, curiosity got the best of him, as he feared who the recipient of said intricately wrapped gift was. “Hmmm, what’s that you’ve got there?”

G’raha’s mismatched eyes widened suddenly, but he quickly smiled again. “Oh, it’s my White Day present for Yume, of course.”

The miqo’te answered so abruptly, so matter-of-factly, as if it was completely obvious to anyone with a brain what he was talking about. It irritated Cid to his very core, and him mentioning his own girlfriend’s name in that manner also made him want to grind his teeth. Instead, he was forced to ask.

“Wait, what are you talking about? The hells is White Day?”

“You mean you don’t know? I thought that you would’ve known about it already. Since well–“

“Well, I don’t know, alright?! What in the seven hells is White Day?” Cid had interrupted G’raha, and his tone was rather brusque, but he was getting more annoyed by the minute, and he was close to outright demanding the miqo’te tell him why he was giving his girlfriend such a beautiful gift.

With a sigh, G’raha explained, “White Day is a Hingan tradition, where a woman gives a man chocolates in the First Umbral Moon, and in the Second Astral Moon, the men who were given chocolates by women will give them sweets in return.”

Cid folded his arms. “Alright… but Yume gave us all chocolates for Valentione’s Day, but that was only for that one day.”

“In Eorzea yes, but not in Hingashi… and I just wanted her to experience the holiday, to give her something that reminded her of home,” G’raha looked down at the box in his hands, with a gleam in his eyes.

“May I ask what you are giving her?” Cid questioned.

G’raha perked up his ears and his tail swished in joy. “Oh, certainly! It’s matcha green tea mochi that I made myself, though I’m not sure how well I did. I found the recipe in a Far Eastern cookbook. I wrapped them in some Doman silk that I bought from the Doman refugees here in Revenant’s Toll. I then tried asking for a small branch off of one of the cherry blossom trees that are in bloom for Little Ladies Day in Ul’dah, but they flat out refused. So instead, I found some Forget-Me-Nots, as they are small flowers that look similar enough to cherry blossoms, except for the color of course.”

Cid sighed in defeat. “That’s impressive, and it certainly must’ve took you a fair bit of time and effort to put it all together.”

“Well, it wasn’t easy, as I didn’t want to cut corners and not do it just right, but it will all be worth it to see the smile on Yume’s face.”

G’raha smiled warmly at the Garlean, but Cid could only give a small smirk in return. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, but he also had to restrain himself from punching G’raha in the face. Though it appeared that the miqo’te was not trying to be malicious and one up him, that was exactly how Cid felt. Cid was sure that Yume would kindly tell him that there was no need to give her a gift in return, as she had never mentioned the holiday to him at all, but deep down, he knew that Yume was going to be over the moon with G’raha’s thoughtful and incredibly meaningful gift. Cid also was not one to cut corners and run out to buy a cheap box of chocolates at the very last minute, but his only choices were the fast and cheap route, or not to give her anything at all.

Cid closed his eyes and rubbed his beard, struggling to decide just what to do. “Yes… I suppose it will.”

[kiwikiwiandkiwi]

HARRY BEING HARRY ON TOUR — Love on Tour: UK + Europe Leg, 2023

[fawnnbinary]

finally,,, East Blue Polycule Smooches,,,,,,

[tadfool]

thinkin about Astarion mending Wyll's clothes for him but also embroidering something on them when he does. I imagine with all the fighting and traveling Wyll ends up with rips and holes in his clothes pretty often and eventually Astarion gets sick of watching him walk around in tattered clothes (most people likely wouldn't even notice but of course Astarion isn't most people). the first couple times he does it he just mends the damages and gives it back, but maybe one time Wyll ends up with a particularly large rip in his shirt and Astarion decides to take the opportunity to cover the damage with a small bit of embroidery to tidy up the repair. Wyll thanks him for repairing his shirt (again) but then he notices the embroidery and pauses for a moment in both surprise and marvel. "did you do this?" he says, carefully running his thumb over the delicate stitches, he knew it was a bit of a stupid question but he couldn't seem to think of anything else to say. (cont. under the cut bc this got kinda long)

"it was a pretty nasty rip, even with my skillful hands," Astarion flashes Wyll a suggestive grin to emphasize his innuendo but Wyll is still to busy admiring the embroidery in his hands, "I wasn't able to make the repair look presentable on its own, but a bit of embroidery does well enough to cover it up"

"it's beautiful." Wyll breathes.

"yes, well, you're welcome." Astarion retorts, his voice thick with snark to hide how much Wyll's earnest praise flustered him.

Wyll chuckles and thanks him again before they part ways.

the next time Astarion repairs some of Wyll's clothes when he returns the item Wyll once again notices a small patch of embroidery but this time it's somewhere totally unrelated to the damaged area. it's lovely, and he spends a moment admiring it before giving Astarion a questioning look. "there was a stain, I couldn't wash it out so I just covered it up. you're welcome, by the way." Astarion defends, and it's almost believable. it might have been more believable if it didn't keep happening.

every time Wyll hands over a damaged piece of clothing to be repaired, it's returned to him with some new embroidery adorning it. it starts off subtle but after some time he has a collage of embroidery along his left pant leg, starting at his hip and extending further down towards his knee with every repair. the collar and both shoulders of his shirt are adorned with delicate designs in colourful thread. he also, notably, becomes a bit more careful in battle, not wanting to damage Astarion's embroidery.

once, an opponent manages to graze his shoulder with their blade, the cut isn't deep but it slices through his shirt. and through the embroidery. as soon as he glaces over and catches sight of the torn thread, he's furious. he dispatches the enemy quickly and rather ungracefully. when he hands the shirt over to Astarion to be repaired he's positively dejected. "swiped at my shoulder, I didn't manage to deflect it in time, cut straight through the embroidery..."

Astarion clicks his tongue, assessing the damage, "no respect for craftsmanship these days..."

when he returns the shirt most of the old design has been picked out and replaced with a new one. a simpler design, Wyll notes, likely easier to repair if it were to get damaged again. he admires it with the same appreciation as the first. "is your shoulder alright, by the way?" Astarion asks rather suddenly.

"hm? oh, yes, barely grazed it. nothing a bandage and a night or two's rest won't fix."

"good." the silence that follows is almost palpable. so many unspoken words, concern, affection, hanging in the space between them. "well. do try to be more careful." Astarion finally says, then hastily adds "at this rate I'm going to run out of thread before I get a chance to get more."

Wyll smiles softly at him. (so softly it makes Astarion's chest ache) "of course." (the idea that Astarion cares about his safety makes Wyll's chest ache as well)

[binniebakery]

ʚ thinking about going to the beach with bf!gyu on your anniversary ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ) ʚ he'd originally want to make it a surprise but has a bit of trouble finding a proper beach house so he asks you for help </3 ʚ regardless,, you were touched that he even came up with the idea ʚ bf!gyu who helps you shove all your stuff into his car and drives you an hour out to the coast ʚ and it's beautiful!!! despite it being spring time, the weather isn't too hot or too cold so swimming was really up to you guys! ʚ of course the minute you guys arrive, he's jumping out of the car and running to the passenger's side to open the door and pull you out to lift you into the tightest hug ever ʚ the scent of your boyfriend mixes with the salty air and it's so comforting <3 the way the breeze gently carries your giggles and light whines for him to let you go because 'you're squeezing me too tight beomie--! I'm gonna explode!' ʚ bf! beomgyu who ignores your protests for a few seconds longer because he can't resist the way your hair gently sways from the gentle wind and the smile on your face as you stare at him with stars in your eyes ʚ that grandma walking her dog flashes you both a sweet smile as she passes by because you're both just too cute <3 ʚ after beomgyu chases you around with a water gun you had no idea he had packed and multiple stolen kisses you both finally managed to unpack all your belongings and are ready to take on the weekend! ʚ and its already dinner time!! you both offer to make each other dinner and after your brief debate, you both agree on making it together! ʚ of course he's a tease,,, wrapping his arms around your waist as you bite your lip in an attempt to focus on the stir-fried veggies in front of you. ʚ your breath hitches as his warm breath tickles your neck and you remind him that as much as you would love to do something else you both need to eat after your drive! ʚ bf!beomgyu who wakes you up the day of your anniversary with your favorite flowers (courtesy of the small shop that was near by) and you can just feel your heart swell from the gesture :(((( ʚ he's just so sweet,,, and ofc you make breakfast for him to eat in bed (because he's spoiled!) in return ʚ bf! beomgyu who sits with you on the sandy beach, you both find a nice place by the rocks and he's grinning ear to ear as he watches you stare at the sunset ʚ you look at him curiously, "what is it?" you smile (he's thankful you can't hear the way his heart is hammering in his chest) ʚ he stares silently for a few seconds more. as if the breeze blowing by would whisper his thoughts to you :(( <333 ʚ bf! beomgyu who shakes his head, long hair swishing around as he lets out a chuckle. "nothin'." ʚ you shrug and look back at the ocean, arm wrapped around his. ʚ bf!beomgyu who continues to stare at you because to him you're definitely a view more worth seeing ʚ and it's like you can read his mind, you find yourself smiling wider as you rest your head on his shoulder<3 ʚ because although beomgyu masks that sincere and thoughtful side to him with his silly persona, deep down his mind is just like the ocean you find yourself staring into. if you look deep enough you'll find treasures and beauty beyond anything you could imagine <3

♡ Recipe Notes: last part was actually based off of a dream i had with gyu a while ago LOL

[sleepy-moons]

gojo constantly tells you he'd die for you. at the start of your relationship, you would kind of roll your eyes at the comment. he's so dramatic, you'd think to yourself, though you'd appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. but as time went on, and as your relationship blossomed, you began to feel a pang in your heart every time he said it.

an ache so deep in your spirit, that you could cry whenever he'd go on a mission. because you knew, that while he was fighting for a better society, for the eradication of curses and corruption, there was a large part of him that was fighting solely for you. for your safety. and if that meant he had to die for that to happen, so be it.

i don't want you to die for me. words you never thought you'd have to say to the love of your life. you want to spend the rest of your life with this man. why must he insist on showing his love in death?

he'd always give you a little smile when you'd say that, because he knows tears will be following soon after.

i know. there wasn't much more to be said after that. just a mutual understanding that a devastating heartbreak is lingering somewhere down the line, inevitable. he just hopes that in his next life, he gets to spend more time with you.

[freakadr0id]

Oh my GOD, I just realized why Donnie acts so weird in Man vs. Sewer. I always thought his behavior was odd in that episode, particularly in his nonchalance towards finding and saving Raph - but I had the most random thought occur to me during work that TOTALLY explains it. I'm sure some people have probably pointed this stuff out already, but I wanted to put this out there anyway.

The episode 'Man-vs-Sewer' is a personal favorite of mine. I love the episodes where the boys are just goofing off, and this episode is that plus some. We see get to see the boys having fun for a bit at the start of the episode, but it also adds a bit more depth to some of the turtles. We see a really surprising side to Raph's character with his fear of being alone, and Leo gets to shine a bit as a leader and hint at his true potential.

However, I was always a bit puzzled by the way Donnie and Mikey were written in this episode. As a rule, Rise is pretty good about keeping its characters, well, in character, so their behavior struck me as kind of strange, particularly Donnie's.

If there is one thing Rise NAILS about Donnie's character is showing that despite struggling with emotions and empathy, he is still NOT AN ASSHOLE. Donnie genuinely and deeply loves his family - he just has a hard time expressing it externally.

'Man-vs-Sewer' kind of stood out to me as an exception to that, however. At this point, Donnie's care for his brothers is an undisputed fact, so why does he seem so unconcerned about finding Raph after being separated? Even for Donnie, this seems like an ooc level of indifference towards the well-being of his brother (at least that's how I saw it).

Except, it isn't. In fact, this episode only reinforces that Donnie does care for his family, it's just a *bit* harder to see here.

One thing many neurodivergent people struggle with is a sudden change in plans. When they expect to do something that day it can be very difficult for some neurodivergent people to deal with it emotionally and can lead to immense frustration or even shutdowns. Since Donnie is confirmed to be, at the very least, autistic coded, this would absolutely apply to him as well.

The turtles planned to have a nice, relaxing day floating along New York's sewers and enjoying a small break from all the stress of finding the Dark Armor. No fighting, no mystic metal, no foot clan. Just a calm day of fun without a care in the world - only for it to be ruined by a bad pass and a lost brother.

I know if my plans were ruined like that, I would be in an absolutely FOUL mood. It can be hard to transition into a different mindset when the expectations for the day change like that, and it can make anyone frustrated, but Donnie doesn't appear to be that way. In fact, he's acting extremely casual.

Even though everything he was going to do today was upended and his brother is now missing in the New York sewers, why does Donnie seem so unconcerned about the whole situation?

Answer: It's a coping mechanism.

It would be very easy for him to be a bit more annoyed and frustrated at the whole situation (I definitely would be), but he isn't. Instead, he avoids getting overwhelmed and emotional by continuing through the day as if nothing has really changed.

The whole time they are finding Raph, Donnie behaves as if they are still on a peaceful, carefree mini-vacation. He makes snide jokes and jabs toward Leo, enjoys the drinks he brought in his shell, and constantly reminds the others that it is his "day off." If he can act as though he's still relaxing, it becomes easier to adjust to unexpected alterations in his day. This isn't Donnie being willfully inconsiderate towards Raph being lost and alone, this is just him trying to manage with the sudden changes the best he can in that moment.

If Donnie really was an uncaring asshole (as some may be inclined to believe given his apparent lack of empathy), he simply would have resumed their original plans, or been more vocally resistant to going after Raph. Instead, he joins his brothers in their search, and although he may not provide the best input for finding Raph because of his coping method (his brain is in "day off" mode which is why he keeps missing clues about Raph), he is still making an effort.

In a way, the episode which I thought portrayed a slightly out-of-character version of Donnie actually provides yet another example of how Donnie really loves his brothers, despite how it may seem on the surface.

~-~-~

(Actually, depending on the way you interpret his character, the same can be said for Mikey in this episode as well. Mikey is always a bit of a goofball in the show but in this episode, it is dialed up to 11. He also doesn't seem to much care or effort into finding Raph and acts like a child who managed to snag one of their parents' energy drinks. If we consider that maybe he is also struggling to adapt to the changes of the day, this could be him adopting a similar coping method to Donnie, it is just amplified because of his hyperactive behavior and personality.)

[okkalo]

neuvillette x gn reader

genre(s): fluff

warning(s): use of the hydro dragon theory

yes, this is way longer than i intended it to be.

neuvillette was currently pouting. why? because you have yet to do your daily thing.

sadly, his pouting didn’t help much because god only knows how expressive he is. so, truly, he seemed like normal right now for you. the only hint you could possibly notice is him giving you more glances than usual, which didn’t help either.

though the morning seemed completely natural for you, the chief justice could’ve compared his morning to a dire situation. it’s an important step of the morning routine to miss after all. so important that it could put all of fontaine at risk today.

though, what’s a man to do? he could only give a soft sigh, not wanting it to be loud enough to disturb you, while his eyes flit to the clock on the wall. it was almost time for him to go. his eyes fell back to your figure, your back facing him as he fixed the cuffs of his sleeves.

did you really forget?

he couldn’t help but feel saddened. he bit his tongue, however, not wanting to let his emotions ruin the morning of the fontaine citizens. surely he was just exaggerating this ache in his heart, right? he gave one last soft sigh before deciding it was time to go.

“alright, love, it’s time for me to go.” his deep voice broke the comfortable silence of the morning between the both of you. his heart warmed at the sight of you turning around with a smile, now making your way to give him a departing kiss.

“okay, chief justice,” you gave him a sweet smile, something that made him forget about the hurt from earlier, accompanied by a soft peck on his left cheek. “do well for me today. i love you.” you finished before giving him another kiss, this time on his lips.

although your kisses always seemed to heal a new part of him he didn’t realize needed healing, he still felt the ache in his heart. he, however, gave his small smile back while you retreated back to your morning routine. he bit back another sigh before he finally turned, now heading for the door. he could already see the light sprinkle that was dropping from the sky from the window. that’s when he stopped in his steps.

“i can’t help but feel as if i’m missing something, love,” he spoke, turning to face him with a confused glance, though he couldn’t see since his back was turned towards you.

“forgetting something?” you look around for a bit, your eyes glancing at the spots where his valuable items would usually sit. all of them had been empty, what could he be—oh. the moment he turned around to meet your eyes with his own slightly glossy ones was the same moment it clicked.

how adorable.

your confused face melted into a gentle smile, now taking steps to approach the male. you could see sadness lift from his eyes the moment you cupped both his cheeks with your hands and stared at him in the eyes.

“hydro dragon,” you leaned in to place a small kiss on his right eyelid, which he fluttered shut for you by pure instinct. “hydro dragon,” then one to his left eyelid. “please don’t cry.” your thumbs rub his cheeks, a signal for him to open his eyes to meet yours once more before you leaned in to peck his nose. “keep the city of fontaine dry.” and for the finale, you went in for his lips, though you made sure the kiss was longer than usual.

“i love you, neuvillette.” you smiled after the kiss, resting your forehead against his.

“i love you just as much.” he replied, his grin wide on his face as the rain of outside seemed to immediately stop.

[oxydiane]

Harry is eight and spending the time he isn’t locked up in his cupboard, or doing house chores, or running away from Dudley and his gang, at the nearby park. He sits on the swing and idly watches the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.

His name is Malcom, his hair is light brown and his eyes are the prettiest blue Harry’s ever seen.

But— but boys aren’t supposed to be pretty. Boys aren’t supposed to think other boys are pretty, so he makes himself smaller in his worn out jumper and never approaches him again.

Harry is eleven when his life turns upside down and a gangly freckled kid sits next to him on the Hogwarts Express. He looks into his blue eyes and marvels at the bright red of his hair. He wants to reach out and clean the bit of dirt off his nose, but that would be getting too close to another boy, and he couldn’t afford that, could he?

Not when he could imagine tracing all the freckles scattered across his cheeks.

Harry is fourteen when Cedric Diggory falls from the sky and offers him help getting up after using his first Portkey. His hand is big and as calloused as he’d expect a Quidditch player’s to be. He doesn’t like dwelling on the thought of how nice he’d found it.

He asks Cho Chang to the Yule Ball and she rejects him because Cedric Diggory had been quicker. He ends up spending the night on a chair intently looking at the way Cedric’s hand curls around Cho’s waist. He was jealous of him, right?

He tells Sirius about the Yule Ball and he raises an eyebrow at the way Harry describes Cedric’s robes and styled hair but can barely remember the colour of Cho’s dress.

Harry is fifteen when Cho Chang finally agrees to go on a date with him. It happens after they kiss and Harry is eager, he should be, right? The kiss had felt wet and not particularly pleasant and his chest felt a lot warmer as he watched the way Ron laughed when he described it than it had felt when his lips had collided with Cho’s.

The date doesn’t go well, maybe Harry just doesn’t get women.

Sirius says it’s ridiculous, but he doesn’t miss the odd look he and Remus give each other.

Harry is sixteen when he dreams of red hair and freckled skin and in order to escape it he decides to stay up at night and stare at Draco Malfoy’s dot on the Marauder’s Map.

It doesn’t do him good.

He decides the bright red infesting his dreams must be Ginny’s, because he doesn’t know any other red-haired girl. Even though she wears it long and when he dreams it’s short and spiky. And the freckles on her cheeks are not as numerous as the ones he marvels at after falling asleep.

He decides it has to be Ginny, and the thought of it can occupy his mind long enough to make him forget the weird pang and slight sick in his stomach each time he catches Ron snogging Lavender.

When Ginny runs up to him after winning the Quidditch up, he kisses her, because that’s what he’d been dreaming about, right? Hands tangled in red hair and freckled cheeks centimetres from his face, but it feels all wrong.

Ron nods at him and it all feels wrong.

Sirius is not here anymore for Harry to consult, so instead he takes Ginny outside their common room and, on the Hogwarts grounds, opens his heart to her.

She understands.

Harry is seventeen when he has to die and he still hasn’t made sense of the feelings in his chest or why, no matter how much he tried, girls felt so wrong.

It’s not at the forefront of his mind, it’s not even close because the only thing he can think about is the warm bodies laying lifeless in the Great Hall.

But, as he approaches his death, he does spare a thought for the uneasiness he had felt when Hermione kissed Ron, and the discomfort every kiss he’d given before had provided him. He hadn’t lived in full, not even close.

A flash of green light approaches and he finds it silly, how his last thought is of red hair and freckles.

Harry is eighteen when he attends his first Weasley family dinner after the war. The grief is heavy and Fred’s chair is empty but Percy is back home and it does bring at least a shard of comfort to Mrs Weasley. He isn’t alone, Oliver Wood hangs from his arm.

He is eighteen and Percy Weasley introduces Oliver Wood as his boyfriend.

Harry blinks at them and something in his head just clicks.

Harry is twenty when he finally musters the courage to walk into a Gay Bar. He had to Confund the door keeper because he didn’t own an ID, the Dursleys had never bothered giving it to him, given he even had one.

It’s a Muggle place and he feels like the odd one out, terribly dressed down and completely clueless.

He ends up ordering a beer and sitting by the bar.

It’s not until his third visit that a stranger approaches him. He has red hair but his pupils are a soft hazel and his skin isn’t freckled at all. Harry thinks that if he shuts his eyes close, maybe, he could pretend.

His name is Lucas, his lips taste vaguely like strawberries and the kiss doesn’t make Harry want to turn his insides inside out. He smiles and the rush of adrenaline in his veins as Lucas nibs on his bottom lip feels both terrifying and terribly right.

Harry is twenty-three when the cat gets out of the bag.

It’s not because he wanted it, really, but sharing a flat with his best mates could be inconvenient, at times.

He flushed and urges his date to get dressed as he tries to avoid Ron and Hermione’s shocked looks. Their hands are clasped together and Harry has learnt to live with the uncomfortable twist of his stomach by now.

They come off it quickly, though. Ron laughs and pats Harry on the back, says everything is much more clear now.

Harry is twenty-five when he makes his best-man speech at Ron and Hermione’s wedding.

He chokes on his words both because he was never that good at public speaking and because each time he looked at the way Ron’s arm curled around Hermione’s shoulder his throat went a bit drier.

He drinks his glass of champagne in one go and relishes in the burn before fetching Gabriel, his date for the night.

Gabriel stood out like a sour note next to his exes: his hair were a dusty blonde. Harry had thought there would be way too many redheads at the wedding anyways.

Harry is thirty-one when Ron jokes he will never settle down if he keeps on changing men at the same rate he changes his pants, but Harry doesn’t care.

Ron looks thoroughly annoyed and Hermione coughs, worried and almost resigned eyes looking up at her husband.

Harry is thirty-three when Ron shows up at his place with a suitcase and bashfully tells him Hermione wants to file for a divorce.

He just nods and lets Ron in.

Harry is thirty-five when Ron brings back a bottle of expensive Firewhisky and decides they should celebrate the Cannons’ new victory streak on their own.

He hadn’t heard of the Cannons winning anything, recently, but he shrugs it off because it’s not really his thing anyways, Ron would know.

He is thirty-five and Ron, red-haired, freckled and now face flushed sits way too close for comport and traces his lips with a pinky.

He stands up abruptly and loudly declares it’s time for bed. Ron looks quite annoyed, but it will pass.

It must have been his imagination.

Harry is thirty-seven when his best mate breaks down crying in front of him and confesses his feelings through agonising sobs.

He keeps apologising and a tug at his hand breaks Harry out of his stupor. He was sure it must have been a dream, but Ron was real and crying and trembling.

He leans down wordlessly and, finally— sparks.

He is thirty-seven and this is the first time he’s ever felt so alive.

Harry is forty-two when Hagrid walks him down the aisle.

It’s clumsy and messy because they’re both trying not to cry, Harry being much better at it than the half-giant.

He catches a glimpse of Hermione, beaming at him from the front with a knowing smile.

He is forty-two and he is in front of Ron, in white robes. The voices around them nothing but white noise and then Ron leans down and all he can see is— red. Red hair and freckles.

[designernishiki]

it’s kinda funny to me how that dumb scene in kiwami 1 of majima getting shot and left for dead in the harbor was basically just added as a half-assed way to explain majima not being around for a bit of the plot, but they accidentally(?) just made it seem like start of a chain reaction where majima ended up feeling slighted and heartbroken after being abandoned like that and then lashed out about it via smashing a big truck into the building kiryu was in. and yeah that isn’t inherently a romantic thing as-is but then they go and add the part where majima grabs a hostess and performatively hits on her as in-kiryu’s-face as possible, she says she’s already in love with someone, and majima lets her go immediately, no questions asked, making a big fucking point of it just to say see THAT kiryu? I appreciate when people are HONEST about their FEELINGS. people who won’t just BACKSTAB someone who CARES about them to save themselves. is that so crazy kiryu?? huh??? anyway make it up to me get down here and fight me right fucking now

[camels-pen]

warning: eating disorders/food issues

-

"Something wrong with it?"

Usopp startled and snapped his head to the side. His nose jabbed Sanji's eye and they both hissed. Usopp jerked away to rub the tip of his nose.

"Fuck, I forgot about that," Sanji grumbled. There was a contrasting, fond smile on his face as rubbed his eye. "Anyway, the food?"

"What about it?"

"What's wrong with it?"

Usopp turned his gaze back to his plate. Plenty of pork chops piled high- at Luffy's request for a meat-filled dinner- and mashed potatoes with green beans on the side. His mouth salivated again just staring at it.

"Nothing," he said. "Just taking my time."

He could feel Sanji's unimpressed stare. "You've been 'taking your time' through the whole dinner. Everyone's already finished and left. The moss ball even finished the dishes, and we both know how he likes to dawdle."

Despite himself, Usopp giggled quietly. When it was his turn to do dishes, Zoro always took his time, waiting for Sanji to get frustrated with his speed and leave him to finish it alone. It was the perfect strategy to steal booze when Sanji wasn't looking, but it seemed Usopp had unknowingly thwarted his first sake stealing attempt after their reunion.

As if reading his mind, Sanji said, "I let him steal that alcohol, you know. I'm not that stupid." He huffed, voice sounding like he was pouting as he added, "It's the only damn way I can keep an eye on his shitty drinking habits. He'd constantly drink us dry otherwise, that damn mossheaded bastard."

Usopp giggled again and made the mistake of glancing up at him. Sanji was staring across the room at the kitchen, probably the place he'd put all the good booze. He'd confided in Usopp, once, that he had two hiding places for drinking alcohol: one, more obvious place, by the fridge for the cheap stuff, and another, hidden somewhere he wouldn't say, for all the more expensive and high quality stuff. He'd confidently crowed, on more than one occasion, that despite the cheap stuff always going missing, he'd never lost a drop of anything else. He always looked so smug saying that, and well, Usopp now knew why.

But then his eye- the left one now, and despite looking right at it, the change had still caught him off guard more than once- turned to Usopp and Usopp clammed up. Sanji stared at him, his eyebrow- this one curled on the opposite side, closer to his nose bridge than his ear- raised high on his forehead. "If you're well enough to laugh at Zoro, it can't be that bad."

Usopp gulped. Looked away. "I'm not sick," he said quietly. "The food looks great, Sanji, really. Eating is just..." He trailed off. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, only the sounds of their distant crewmates enjoying the sight of their descent to the ocean's floor filling the galley.

Sanji's arm slowly, hesitantly, laid on the back of his chair- Sanji didn't used to hesitate, but, he supposed, things had changed. He settled himself in the chair next to Usopp, rather than continue to lean over him, and said softly, "Eating is just...?"

Usopp stared at the grain on the table, studying the lines and deviations with an intense and sudden fascination.

"Usopp."

"It's hard," he mumbled.

Another silence, this one less expecting and more confused. Awkward.

"You ate fine at breakfast...?" Sanji said, voice lilting up at the end, almost in question.

Usopp snorted. 'Ate fine' was a kinder way of putting it. Usopp had demolished breakfast, nearly rivaling Luffy with how much and how quickly he ate. The usual sense of desperation had dimmed slightly, now that he was with his crew, but it was still there, dictating his eating habits. He would've felt more ashamed if he hadn't seen Luffy, Franky, and Brook eating in the exact same disgusting manner. Instead, he felt right at home.

He had wondered, privately, if something similar had happened to them. Had tossed around the idea of asking them about it. Then he would think back to how they used to eat, before. How it was exactly the same. How they had all basically cried that they'd so dearly missed Sanji's cooking. He couldn't blame them, he nearly sobbed over Sanji's pancakes- and then did sob over his hashbrowns.

"The island got hungry at dawn," he started. Stopped. Stared at the little vase of daisies at the centre of the table that Robin had gathered from her garden- now shared with Usopp. "It would close up. Then open. After, everything was... safe. For a little while."

He gulped again, cringing at his dry throat. He stared at the glass of water, a little wet stain under it. Luffy had bumped his glass earlier when he stole a few chops off of Usopp's pile.

Usopp didn't reach for it.

"You know, I was expecting grand stories of your heroics when you finally talked about where you were." Usopp shrunk in his seat. "No- no, come on I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to make a joke."

"You should leave the jokes to the experts." Usopp's lip quirked. "Even Brook's better than you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji scowled. "Brook wouldn't know a good joke if it kicked him upside the head."

Usopp giggled again, relaxing. "Admit it, you missed his skull jokes."

Sanji huffed. "...Maybe a little."

In the background, they could hear Zoro talking about taking a swim followed by a familiar thud and Nami yelling at him. They both giggled this time, leaning into each other.

"God, I missed everyone. I missed-" Sanji cut himself off and Usopp turned to look at him. There was a wobble to his lips and his visible eye stared intently at him. Usopp would almost say Sanji looked longing- yearning, even- if he didn't know better.

"I know," he said. "I missed everyone too." Sanji's eyes pinched a little at the corners, but Usopp didn't know why. He didn't linger on it long though, what with Sanji's smile as he pressed his temple to Usopp's for a moment. Usopp's heart would've beat wildly two years ago, but now all he felt was warm and content.

Sanji hummed in agreement and pulled away. Patting his pockets, likely for a cigarette. Usopp pulled the one tucked behind his ear, admiring the feel of soft blond hair a moment too long before handing it to him. Sanji chuckled and accepted it with a quiet thanks.

He lit it and sat back in his chair, relaxing with the first inhale. "Back to the important stuff." Usopp would argue all of that was important stuff. "You only felt safe to eat breakfast?"

Usopp shook his head. Then tilted it side to side. "No- well, sort of. It was never really safe, but..." He rolled the words around his mouth, feeling out the right ones while discarding others. "It was... easier. To eat a lot in the morning. Gather food later in the day. Then sleep when I got hungry closer to sunset."

Sanji blew out a puff of smoke. "You didn't have anyone to watch your back while you were eating?"

"I did." Usopp nodded, a sense of pride filling him as he puffed out his chest. "Heracles'n was a great friend and teacher! We took turns watching out for each other and, well, he's the reason I survived that island in the first place." He flexed one of his biceps. "He also helped me get a whole lot stronger!"

Sanji pursed his lips around his cigarette. "But you didn't eat dinner. Or lunch." Today nor in nearly two years, though Sanji likely meant the latter.

Usopp deflated, arm settling back down in his lap. "We couldn't stop moving until sunset. By then it was better to sleep and eat heap loads in the morning rather than risk dinner and not getting enough rest." He sighed. "Heracles'n was always telling me to eat more berries and fruit throughout the day, but..."

Sanji stared at him. "You had this-island-is-too-scary-so-I-can't-eat-anything-itis?"

Usopp scowled. "I'd like to see you keep up an appetite when you're constantly running and hiding from giant-"

Sanji used his arm to tug Usopp closer, so their sides were pressed together. He pressed his nose to Usopp's hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What for?" Usopp whispered back.

Sanji didn't answer, his breaths warming Usopp's head. The galley had grown silent when he finally spoke, the others having found quieter activities or retired to their rooms.

"If I was stronger then- or quicker-"

"Sanji," Usopp said. "There's no way you would've been able to beat Kuma, back then."

Sanji shook his head. "I know, but maybe we could've been sent somewhere together."

There was a bittersweet, choking feeling in the back of Usopp's throat. A burning in his eyes. "You wouldn't have liked it there," he said, laying his head on Sanji's shoulder. "You would've hated it, actually."

"But I would've been with you."

Usopp laughed, the sound wet and brittle. "I wouldn't wish that island on anyone, Sanji, but least of all you. I'm not worth-"

A hand cupped his face, cutting him off as he was turned to face Sanji. His nose was bent, pressing against Sanji's cheek. "You worth a lot, Usopp. You're worth it to-" Sanji's cheeks dusted pink all of a sudden and he looked away. "You're worth a lot. And it would've been nice if I could have watched your back. Made sure you were eating well."

At a loss for words, Usopp turned back to the table, staring at his plate. The mashed potatoes were surely cold and hard by now and he was fairly certain a thick pork chop wouldn't stay down.

The green beans, maybe. Those could work.

He picked one up. His stomach rumbled. He lifted it to his mouth.

His hands shook.

He gulped again. Stared at his hand intensely.

Sanji's hand covered his own. A sudden, terrible spike of anxiety overwhelmed him and he held his breath, hoping Sanji wasn't going to just force him to eat it. He hated wasting food after all and it was already in Usopp's hand and Usopp himself just needed to quit cowering and just eat it already-

Sanji pulled his hand away from his mouth. The tension left Usopp in a rush. Shame took up where anxiety had left, but he forced himself to meet Sanji's eye. He knew what came next.

Before Sanji could say anything, Usopp blurted, "There was food. On the island. Not just fruits and berries and whatever game we could hunt. Pre-cooked food, I mean." Sanji's brow furrowed, but Usopp continued on. "There were these plants- and rivers- that had cake and burgers and ramen and- well, you get the idea. And the closer you got to the centre of the island, the more tasty the food got." He gulped. Coughed a little. Sanji reached for his glass, but Usopp grabbed his wrist in a tight hold. If he didn't get it all out now, he never would.

"I didn't meet Heracles'n immediately. I was on my own at first and- and I didn't completely trust him at first either." He laughed, the sound as self-deprecating as it felt. "The centre of the island, that's where its mouth is."

Sanji's eyebrow furrowed further. "So when you said the island 'got hungry'..."

Usopp nodded. "It was a trap to lure in prey." Quietly, he added, "Like me."

Sanji gasped, his eyes darting down, and wow, Usopp really should've re-thought the whole 'show off his new muscles by going shirtless' plan. He pulled away from Sanji, and pulled up the waist of his pants. "Staring at my stretch marks isn't going to change anything, y'know."

Sheepishly, Sanji said, "Sorry- sorry, I should know better." He held out his arms, with a sad little pout. "Come back?"

Usopp held out for a few moments, glaring at him, but he sighed and eventually gave in. "I hate you," he mumbled into Sanji's shoulder. Sanji patted his back in response.

The two of them sat there in silence once more. Usopp savoured the contact between them, like he had always dreamed of on Boin.

"You had to train yourself to avoid delicious looking foods, then," Sanji said quietly. Usopp nodded. "That makes sense. But then, breakfast?"

A new wave of shame, far heavier than the last. He dug his forehead into Sanji's shoulder. "I don't want to talk about it."

He didn't know how to explain how he had become some kind of wild animal during meals and he didn't want to explain. Heracles'n was already one person too many and earlier, the entire crew had seen him. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest at the reminder, a belated rush of fear to make up for his single minded focus at breakfast.

"Then I won't ask," Sanji said. "You should tell Chopper though-"

Usopp grimaced. "Eventually, but..."

Sanji sighed, pressing his cheek to Usopp's hair. "Okay, but can I make you something? Just a snack or tea or...?"

Usopp huffed. "Sanji-"

"I know, I know! But letting you go to bed hungry is..."

"Hard," Usopp finished for him, pulling away. "I know."

He wasn't going anywhere before Sanji fed him, of that he was sure, but it made Usopp's stomach queasy just thinking about all the snacks Sanji used to make before they were separated.

Some of it must have shown on his face too, since Sanji was already holding up his hands and starting to look even more concerned. "It doesn't have to be anything special. I could just peel a tangerine for you or slice up some apples or juice some pears- I mean oranges! Why would anyone juice pears- oh, hm, I should check that sometime; remind me to write it down. Oh and maybe I could steep a really bitter tea, so you don't have to worry about drinking too much because I know you hate bitter things-"

And Usopp couldn't help himself. He laughed.

Sanji deflated, his brow furrowed in confusion, or maybe it was concern. Usopp didn't know, he was too busy laughing at the absurdity of Sanji being so anxious and speaking every rambling thought. It was adorable and Usopp couldn't help but reach up and squish Sanji's cheeks.

"I lo-" Sanji's eye widened and suddenly, Usopp didn't feel brave enough. "Lost my notebook. We'll have to use one of yours."

"O-Oh, yeah, sure." Sanji nodded, voice slightly muffled by his squished cheeks. He stared at Usopp, his eye asking another question.

Usopp looked away, his eyes landing on the fruit bowl on the bar counter. There were apples, bananas, and pears. He pulled his hands away. "...Nami will be mad at you." he said quietly, weakly.

Sanji sighed, a shaky, relieved little thing. He wrapped his arms around Usopp's middle, crushing him to his chest. "I think she'll forgive me," he said.

Boldly, Usopp added, "What if you made coffee?" The only coffee in the pantry was a fancy jar brought along from a Revolutionary base near a village that prided themselves on their harvest.

Sanji chuckled. "Robin would forgive me too."

Usopp hummed. "You seem awfully confident."

"I am," he said, pulling away completely, his chair squeaking against the floorboards as he stood. Sanji held out a hand, a smile on his lips. "If you don't believe me, let me show you."

And right here, Usopp could've chosen to laugh it off. Said something about not wanting to face Nami's wrath, much less Robin's. Fled the galley completely with an excuse or three and sleep in his workshop while ignoring any and all feelings of guilt. It would've been easy.

But he'd already accepted it. Acknowledged the inevitable consequences instead of turning down those anxious suggestions. How could he do anything else, in the face of such genuine care and concern? To leave now would just hurt them both and the last thing Usopp wanted to do was hurt Sanji.

And, well, he trusted Sanji, to do what he couldn't. Planned to trust him with his heart, at some point.

Trusting him with his stomach, in comparison, was as easy as breathing.

So, Usopp placed a steady hand in Sanji's own, a small, teasing smile on his face, and said, "Lead the way."

[megantronusprime]

y'all ever think about the 10 years engie spent as a roughneck in the oilpatch? because I do.

Like, do you think he was trying to break away from the family legacy of becoming a mercenary? that maybe that boy in the picture, trying his father's goggles wanted nothing more than to be an engineer just like his daddy - even had a natural knack for it too, said his dad, just like him and his father before him - and was too young to see clearly the toll it took on him and his family? do you think that, as he got older, he would begin to recognize the extremes his father and grandfather went to for their work, obsessing over it, even experimenting on their own bodies. do you think he came across his mother crying at the kitchen table late one night, unable to recognize the loving man she married who now never came home and obsessed over his work, and decided right then and there that he wasn't going to be that man to his family? that he was going to forge his own path - be his own man, and break free from the Conagher family curse?

so, maybe, at the age of 18, he began working as a roughneck in the oilfields of west Texas. It was hard manual labour, long days spent on drilling rigs with the Texas sun beating down on him, but it was good money, and though some of his coworkers were rough most of them were good enough guys and he along with most of 'em. and hey, sometimes maybe there were even on-the-spot practical problems to be solved - issues with the drill that in a fast-paced environment like that couldn't wait for a proper tech to come around and solve? and in those moments, engie would step in and fix the issue quickly, working without hesitation, like it was second nature to him. And maybe his coworkers would always remark upon his natural aptitude? ("you're in the wrong line of work, Dell.") Maybe he would shrug it off, say it weren't nothin' - just hung around his father a lot growin' up and learned a thing or two - but deep inside, he hoped for more of those opportunities to fix things, and maybe those little moments of on-the-spot fixes were the very things he looked forward to most. And maybe, even as he gained a reputation for being a mr. fix-it amongst his coworkers, given odd things outside of work to tinker on, it wasn't enough. maybe slowly, over the years, with each thing he worked on, the flames of his intellectual curiosity were stoked more and more, until eventually, he went back home and visited his mom, during his week off. And, late one night, against his better judgement, he went into his father's workshop - untouched, everything covered in a layer of dust (he hadn't been home in years). he knew he shouldn't. He could feel the gnawing at him, the voice demanding him to give in to his intellectual curiosity and follow in his father's footsteps getting louder. He had been trying to fight it, but he finally reached his breaking point and went into his father's blueprints. that was what tipped him over the edge. He spent the whole night, locked away in his father's workshop, poring over each design, his mind racing with ideas of how he could make it better. He couldn't stand it anymore, he needed more. When the sun came back up again, Dell informed his mother that after 10 years, he was quitting his job and enrolling for university. and although he was certain that he would not become the same man his father and grandfather was, as sure as he would be an engineer, but do it differently and not succumb to the family curse. And although his mother smiled, ever gentle and encouraging of her son, coffee mug in hand, there was a sadness in her eyes. Because she knew that Dell always had the same tenacity and obsessive intellectual curiosity his father has. And if Dell was going to do this, there was no moderation. He was going to fling himself into it completely, lose sleep, lose focus of everything else. And she was right.

...

OR maybe he always knew he was going to be an engineer and was like, "well, I'm going to do a whole lot of schooling, so what's the best way to save up for tuition? oh yeah! work in the oilfield for a few years :)" lol

[onboardsorasora]

Something something Lewis and Daniel have been on and off fuck buddies. They don't talk about feelings but it's clear to anyone with eyes that some exist.

Daniel is a little more considerate to Lewis and his moods than he is with other people. Lewis always seems Daniel out first when he has good news or updates. As far as everyone is concerned- they're dating.

Anyway Lewis has been feeling like maybe he should say something, maybe make things a little more serious. Because he thinks maybe it's time to stop lying to himself.

But Daniel feels something serious happening, felt the shift. Has been seeing Lewis staring at him with weight in his eyes. Been noticing that Lewis has been spending a lot of time talking to other people.

He doesn't know what meaning is in the depths of Lewis' chocolate stare but Daniel is sure it can't be anything good. Lewis for sure is about to end things- because why wouldn't he? What reason does he have to keep this up, keep their whatever this is going? All Daniel does is have sex with him, make sure he has the brand of oat milk he likes in his fridge and that Roscoe's extra bed and bowls are accessible when they stay over.

So when Lewis puts his cup down on the table one morning while Daniel was eating his morning cereal, he didn't bother to try and tell himself that it felt serious. Final.

"you know I was thinking that we've been doing this a long time and maybe--" Lewis starts and Daniel stands up to go to the sink. Cuts him off.

"yeah it's probably like run it's course I guess?" Daniel said into the deep metal. His bowl sat silently in the bottom.

"what?" Lewis asked, stunned. But Daniel didn't try to parse it. He hadn't expected his chest to feel so tight.

"yeah like, isn't that what you're going to say? I mean it's probably best we cut it. We probably wouldn't be a good fit or something. I think we'd be terrible together or whatever." His hands weren't shaking where they clutched the sink.

"is that what you want? For us to..break up?" Lewis asked slowly, staring at the tense line of Daniel's back. He'd been thinking about how happy he'd been recently and it was George who pointed out that Daniel might have been the source. They've been doing this dance for so long that it was easy to forget that they weren't together.

Lewis wanted to change that to the positive. But he hadn't anticipated that maybe Daniel didn't feel the same.

"isnt that what you want?" Daniel turned on the faucet- aggressively flicking the handle upwards. The rush of water pressure was harsh.

"why won't you look at me?" Lewis looked down at his cooling cup. Flinching at the loud ting of the metal spoon falling into the bowl.

"just-- say what you're saying." Daniel exhaled turning off the faucet and wiping his hands in the terry cloth towel hanging from the stove.

"well if you want to end things so badly then sure." Lewis couldn't believe he'd gotten everything so wrong. He frowned, sad and disappointed that everything turned this way.

"yeah. Ok." Daniel cleared his throat when his voice cracked. He didn't acknowledge the thickness in his throat or the burning in his eyes. He just nodded to the sink and turned to leave the room.

"that's it?" Lewis' voice stopped him and Daniel whirled to glare red rimmed honey eyes at him. "Daniel?"

"it's what you wanted right?" Daniel snapped.

"what I wanted?" Lewis' eyes widened.

"yes! You think I haven't noticed the staring and the extra time apart. The calls taken in other rooms. It's fine- id been wondering-" Daniel snapped his mouth shut.

"I haven't been with someone else if that's what you're suggesting!" Lewis stood from his chair.

"I never said that?!" Daniel scraped at his wet eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. He was just trying to get out of this with some dignity in tact. "But you're done with me-"

"who said that?" Lewis looked taken aback.

"you did!" Lewis walked over to where he still stood stiffly and Daniel watched him warily.

"that's not what I was saying." Lewis whispered. He grabbed Daniel's hand to find it shaking. "I love you."

Daniel inhaled sharply.

"I love you and I was thinking that we should make this official."

Daniel's breath shuddered out of his chest. "Why didn't you lead with that?!" He chastised.

"I didn't think you'd immediately like divert to breaking up!" Lewis defended.

"fuck!" Daniel sagged and rested his face into Lewis' neck. "I love you too." He mumbled.

"next time I'll lead with that." Lewis promised, squeezing his arms around Daniel's broad shoulders.

"yes please."

[sulliedsorrow]

every year on his birthday dazai sends him a wine bottle full of grape juice. he changes the labels and puts it somewhere where chuuya would see it immediately. attached is always some generic happy birthday card. chuuya drank it without thinking the first time and immediately spat it out because, surprise surprise, grape juice tastes like absolute shit. he immediately found dazai and poured the rest of it over his head. before his next birthday he changes his locks, but there it is on the 29th of april, nestled in a decorative basket full of fake flowers. he doesn’t bother the third year.

two minutes past midnight on the day of his 19th birthday, his doorbell rings. on the welcome mat is a familiar basket, and that godforsaken bottle of juice.

chuuya throws it at the wall and is silent as it shatters. he watches the purple seep into the wallpaper, the liquid dripping into the carpet. it’s weeks before the smell dissipates.

on his 20th he's almost expecting it. two minutes past midnight, a bell ringing, a bottle on his mat. he puts it in the fridge and doesn't touch it for months.

for his 21st he's prepared. he hides at the end of the hallway by the corner, watching and waiting. midnight comes. two minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen. at half past he gives up and enters his apartment again, only to find the basket sitting innocently on his couch.

his legs shake as he walks to it, and he startles when he sees a nondescript white card tied to the neck of the bottle. on it is written "always so predictable chuuya" with a crude smiley face drawn beneath the text.

chuuya breathes in deeply. he wants to scream, wants to break something, wants to smash the bottle and every bottle in his cellar and rip off the arms of his couch and tear down the plaster in his wall and shake dazai and ask him why.

instead, he goes to the fridge, and places the bottle next to the first. he doesn’t leave his apartment that day.

[roguelov]

Hi! so my mind imagined this, let's imagine that it was night in the dreaming and reader was a little bored and she was sitting in a kind of hill where the grass was very long, the kingdom was silent and the air was cold then all suddenly a black cat with long, very soft fur approaches her, she takes it in her arms she begins to play with its pads, its claws and spoils it with caresses and kisses without knowing that this cat is is our beloved king of dreams ( i love cats👹)

Lil kitty Dream is the best

The vast green rolling hills stretching on and on, the fields of brightly colored flowers swaying in the wind, the happy whistling of birds and their fluttering wings, the sun above burning brightly and beautifully against the pale blue sky, it was all so picturesque.

And it was quite peaceful.

There was no one around, no one to disturb you. You sighed, laying back into the soft grass under the shade of the massive tree. Closing your eyes, a smile graced your lips. However, something wished to disturb said your solitude. There was rustling in the tall grass behind you. You immediately perked up, twisting around. You squinted your eyes, trying to see the culprit.

“Hello?” You asked.

You didn’t know why you called it. You assumed it to be a squirrel or some other critter. But, maybe it was someone, someone trying to find their own oasis.

Slowly, out of the grass, a beautiful long haired black cat poked his nose out. Your eyes widened. “Hello,” you cooed softly. “What brings you out here?”

The cat cocked his head. His baby blue eyes swept over you, almost assessing you. Were you a threat? A nuisance?

You slowly extended out your hand, showing you meant no harm.

The cat approached, his movements were calculated and precise. Ever so gently, he sniffed your hand, then carefully pushed his head into your hand. You were no threat in his eyes. Your smile grew. You scratched his head then down his neck and back. The cat arched his back, purring faintly. Surprising you, he quickly leapt into your lap. He wiggled around showing his belly to you.

“Well, aren’t you cute?” You chuckled.

And needy.

You immediately showered the lovely cat with affection: you softly held his paws, running your thumbs over his pads; you massaged his ears; you kissed his forehead and all over his; and you constantly whispered and cooed at him.

The cat simply allowed all of it. In fact, you swore he enjoyed it immensely. It brought a giddy smile to your lips.

“Such a handsome man,” you murmured as the cat closed his eyes while you scratched under his chin.

But, your time was abruptly cut short.

“Lord Morpheus?”

Your head snapped up. A woman - in a pristine suit - stood a few feet away. Her eyes were not on you, but the cat.

Morpheus?

The cat in your lap perked up. His eyes swiveled over, locking with the woman. For you moment, you thought you saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. Sighing, the cat leapt from your lap.

And the strangeness continued.

Sand appeared out of thin air, swirling around the cat. It clouded him from your view. You blinked, stunned.

What?

The sand dropped suddenly like a curtain revealing a man. A man with the same pitch black hair, and baby blue eyes. “Could you give me a moment, Lucienne?” The man asked in such a deep cadence it sent shivers down your spine.

“Of course,” the woman, Lucienne, nodded then walked off.

You stared utterly dumbfounded by all of this. Who was this man? What is happening? Why? How? What?

The man turned, glancing down at you. “Apologies,” he began. “For cutting our time short and for deceiving you.”

You gaped at him like a fish. “I - uh … it’s okay.”

“Good,” he hummed.

This was all so weird.

He slowly turned away. “Maybe we shall meet again, and perhaps under different circumstances.”

He started to walk away.

“Wait,” you blurred out. You scrambled up to your feet. “Who are you?”

Morpheus? Is that what the lady said?

He peered over his shoulder. Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “You know who I am, little dreamer. Just as I know you.”

What?

Your eyebrows knitted together, and your face scrunched in confusion.

He smiled softly at your expression. “How about you meet me here tomorrow, I will explain it all.”

“… okay,” you breathed out. You wanted answers, and you definitely wanted to see him again. Your strange little cat.

“Wonderful, until then little dreamer.”

You watched him walk away, “Until then.”

[elitadream]

Oh! Speaking of Toadsworth, how would he react once he found out about Kamek almost kidnapping Peach in Sing For Absolution?

That's another question @drones-of-innocence would probably answer much better than I! ^-^ But one way or another, he would be absolutely appalled that such a thing happened. 😨😥

I imagine him spotting the Captain of the Guard while on his early routine walk the next morning, and noting how frazzled he looks. As soon as he would hear the news- ("A fight has occurred in the Princess' chambers, Sir! The evil wizard Kamek has infiltrated the castle while the Kingdom was alseep. It appears he was aiming to cast a dark spell on Her Majesty." / "Thank the stars, mister Mario was able to intervene in time and neutralize the threat! Kamek has since been removed from the perimeter and is currently being detained." / "The Princess is physically unharmed, but she may need time to emotionally recover from the ordeal.") - he would hurry towards Peach's private quarters as fast as his feet can carry him. He would find the Princess quietly sitting in her bed, looking at the empty space next to her, alone and seemingly lost in thought. Appearing strangely calm and contemplative amidst the chaos left in her own room.

"My child! Are you alright?"

He would take her hands in his, fretting and lamenting about what happened, but to his surprise, Peach would seem... distracted. As if something else entirely was occupying her mind.

"I'm fine, Toadsworth. No need to worry about me," she would assure him softly, her gaze however drifting back to the covers. Letting his own eyes wander, the old toad would eventually see the red smears staining her carpet, near her shattered mirror and destroyed vanity.

"Goodness," he would breathe, recoiling in horror. "Is that..."

Beside him, Peach would lower her head with a trembling sigh, curling in on herself.

"He got hurt," she would mutter, waveringly. "And it's all my fault."

Suddenly remembering that the Guard mentioned Mario, Toadsworth would hum and sit beside her, patting her arm comfortingly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He would venture, offering her his handkerchief.

And so, she would recount her night to him. Telling him all that happened, from the moment she abruptly awoke to the moment she fell back asleep.

"I asked him to stay, and he did," she would murmur, with a touch of wonder. "Even before Kamek arrived, he could sense that I was in danger. And he protected me. Risked his life for me, again. How could I ever repay him?"

"Oh, I believe merely knowing that you are safe is all he needs or wants," Toasworth would answer, giving her a kind and knowing smile. "It's something he and I have in common."

Peach would lean a bit against him, letting out a fragile and thoughtful sound. "He is so good to me, Toadsworth. Always has been. I don't deserve a friend like him."

"A 'friend', you say?" Toadsworth would echo teasingly, earning him a tiny giggle. Peach would otherwise remain silent at his playful inquiry, and the old toad would nod sagely to himself at his daughter's reaction.

"I shall arrange something special for him. As a thanking gesture," he would promise. "Is there something that you know he likes?"

Peach would fiddle absentmindedly with the handkerchief, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"He... He likes spending time with me. He told me so himself, once," she would say, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

Toadsworth would grin widely under his bushy mustache, his beady eyes twinkling with delight.

"Then it's settled! I shall prepare a nice retreat for you two to enjoy and send him the invitation myself. In the meantime, let's get you away from this dreadful mess and have another room temporarily accomodated for you. Would you like some tea?"

"Oh yes, please," she would respond, following his lead and walking with him down the royal corridor. ✨️🩷