#no one wants to hear you talk!! miserable.

[sugurouge]

and we're still lost together. blade x f!reader

sfw‐soulmate au (physical sensations + emotions). ༚༅༚˳ . ♱ . ˳༚༅༚ cursing, foul language, mean! blade, he calls you belittling names (brat, my curse, my headache, little masochist, fool, "sweetheart"), height difference, somewhat clumsy reader 1.1k words

Soulmate Blade who hates your guts. Hates how he is suddenly responsible for more than his own miserable, immortal self. In all his years of living, he never stumbled upon this liability. Never encountered the phenomenon called soulmate.

Soulmate? More like another curse, a burden, there are many words he'd rather call you.

But now you're here and he has to keep you safe because of this awful god-forsaken tie between you two that makes him feel everything you experience, from pain to pleasure. And he has to stay focused, can't get distracted by your silly feelings. But oh, you're a clumsy one. Always tripping over or bumping into something. It grinds his gears.

But the worst of it all? How you look at him. He hates how you look at him; like you know he won't hurt you, like he is your prince charming, your destined partner. Of course he can't hurt you. This awful tie makes it impossible to hurt you. In the end he will only be punished for the consequences of his own actions while experiencing all these annoying emotions you constantly struggle with.

So what other choice does he have but to spit harsh words in your face to toughen you up? To tug you close and keep you at his side at all times just to make sure you don't hurt yourself and impact him in return?

Don't you dare point out that he is starting to behave overprotective.

You're following a few feet behind him as he walks through a crowd of people. Elegant like a feline he weaved his way around the bystanders until you just have to start talking again.

"You really hate me?" Blade hears you ask after he expected you to finally stay quiet. Did he not make himself clear that you were to keep your mouth shut while walking through the city?

Blade stops in his tracks.

It gives you enough time to catch up to him, to notice that he seems lost in thoughts. It's too tempting to lift your finger and poke his cheek.

A second later you remember why you shouldn't ever poke Blade's cheek. He turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing as he glares down at your innocent face.

Blade reaches up and grabs your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it tightly as he pulls your hand away from his face.

"Yes, I hate you," he growls, his voice low and rough. "You're a constant headache, a stubborn little brat who never does as she's told. You're a liability, a fucking curse that I can't shake no matter how hard I try."

He leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours to stare into your eyes with a burning intensity. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to keep you safe, you fool. That doesn't mean I don't feel the fucking urge to protect you from every single threat out there."

Your eyes widen in awe at his confession, at the way he practically seethes because of you. How he leans in to come eye-to-eye with you, how his eyes narrow as the hatred reigns over his emotions, and the venom that drips from his words...

He's hot.

And close. He's so close to you now you can feel his breath on your skin, can see the way his eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "So yes, I hate you. I hate you with every fiber of my being. But I also... I also can't let anything happen to you."

You nod to his confession, seem to agree with him over how annoying you can be. You're aware of the pain in the ass that you are. But maybe, maybe, you always want to be just that. Just for him.

His brat, his headache, his liability, because nothing seems as attractive as Blade when he hates you.

He knows he should let go of your hand, should push you away and tell you to run as far as you can. But he can't. He's trapped, trapped by this fucking curse and his own damn feelings.

But then you just have to do it. Have to add another layer of your charm to make this damn soulmate bond act up.

"Can you hate me forever?" You mumble as you take just a tiny step closer, staring into his pretty crimson eyes like he just confessed his love to you.

He can see how flustered you are, notices how your eyes are shining with a fucked-up sort of adoration. Despite his better judgement, he leans, until your lips are barely a hair's breadth apart.

"Forever's a long time, you little masochist," he murmurs, his voice but a low rumble. "You sure you want to sign up for that? Being my hate, my curse, my nightmare for eternity?"

He reaches out and grabs your chin, his fingers digging into your jaw as he tilts your head back.

Fuck, but you're into this, into him hating you.

"Fine," he caves. "I'll hate you forever. I'll hate you until the day I finally die, and even then, I'll probably still hate you."

"Promise?" You mumble while searching his eyes for some sort of messed up reassurance. "Promise you won't grow weak and lovesick?"

He scoffs, a harsh, bitter sound that echoes through the narrow alley. "Lovesick? You really are a naive little thing, aren't you?" He shakes his head, a wry, humorless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not going to grow weak or go soft on you."

His grip tightens, his nails digging into your skin hard enough to make you wince. "I hated you from the moment I first laid eyes on you, and I'll hate you long after you're nothing more than a distant memory. I'll hate you forever, just like I promised."

He releases you abruptly, pushing you away from him as he turns and continues down the alley. "Hurry up now, would you?"

But you stand there a little dumbfounded. Feeling the race of your heartbeat and wonder if he experiences the same inside his own chest. Until you realise he might actually leave you behind.

The panic in your voice sends shivers down Blade's spine in the worst way possible.

"Wait, hold my hand," you plea before you resume to catch up. "You always hold my hand when we go out!"

Blade can feel your eyes on his back, can hear the almost frantic tone in your voice. He knows he should just keep walking, should leave you to stumble along behind him like the clumsy fool you are. But he can't. He's trapped, ensnared by this bond and his own goddamn weakness.

"Fuck's sake, you're spoiled," he mutters, his voice rough and strained. But even as he says it, he's turning back to face you, his hand already reaching out to grab yours. His fingers close around your hand, gripping it tightly as he pulls you to his side.

"There, happy now?" he growls, his eyes narrowing the moment they meet yours. "Don't get used to it. I'm only doing this because you're a menace without someone to hold your hand."

He's already pulling you along. He knows he's walking too fast for you, knows you're probably struggling to keep up. But he can't slow down, can't risk stopping again. If he does, he might just lose his composure entirely.

"Keep up, brat," Blade snarls over his shoulder. "And watch your step. I'm not carrying your ass if you face-plant in the dirt."

He would carry you in a heartbeat if you were to hurt yourself. He could never reject you, not with the way you're burrowing under his skin, into his bones. Into his god damn soul.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[richarlotte]

something you stand by?

You have to be willing to put yourself out there if you want to make friends or be able to say you know people. You don’t build networks, social circles, friendship groups, or relationships without taking a risk, and connections don’t come naturally as you age; you have to pursue them and reach out to your peers.

Your relationships aren’t going to be perfect 100% of the time, and it’s much better to work through conflicts than pretend everything is alright. The idea of a perfect relationship is a myth; focus on finding a partner who’s willing to talk to you, communicate their issues, allow you to voice your concerns and feelings to them, and doesn’t escalate situations into violence.

It’s in your best interest to refuse to suffer fools, and there are only two ways to deal with them: speaking up and silence. Speak up if you feel it’s necessary in the situation, but if you’re unwilling or unable to use your voice, meet them with silence and refuse to give them a response, deny them the attention they crave, and remove yourself from the situation as soon as possible.

Not everyone needs to know everything about you, and not everyone should. Social media and the internet have normalized people having too much access to information about the lives of other people, that doesn’t need to be the case for you. Protect your privacy, don’t make a habit of “spilling” or “trauma dumping” to friends, and don’t address everything you hear about yourself. Strangers don’t need access to your inner world, and it’s better they don’t have it. 

Misery loves company, and if you make a habit of spending your time around negative people and situations, complaining, and wasting your life dwelling in despair, you can’t be surprised when you wake up one day and realize that you’re miserable. You have to find the source of the excess misery and negativity in your life and remove it; that’s the only way you’ll be able to move forward without being burdened by it.

[cinnamanz]

# MAMMA MIA — chapter six!

there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)

wc: 506

JUST LIKE OLD TIMES

SOPHIA SAT STIFFLY AT THE DINNER TABLE, her fork clutched in one hand while her eyes kept drifting—against her better judgment—toward y/n. the last time they’d seen each other, they were 15, attached to the hip and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

the last time they’d spoken… well, it was when sophia had made that confession. a crushing wave of teenage emotion that had spilled out of her lips and turned her world upside down.

now, eight years later, y/n sat across from her, poking at her food, her once-bright eyes now guarded and distant. impossibly grown, impossibly beautiful, and impossibly… awkward.

her hair was cut differently now—though tousled—, her posture straighter, her smile—well, there wasn’t one. she used to talk a mile a minute, but now, the silence surrounding her was deafening.

she was so different. so cool. looking away, it was all sophia could do not to stare, and she was failing miserably.

y/n caught her gaze and raised a brow, a small “what?” falling flatly.

“n-nothing,” sophia stammered, dropping her fork with a loud clang onto her plate.

carla, sophia’s mom, chimed in cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the tension thick enough to cut. “so, y/n, how have you been? it’s been so long since you and sophia talked! i can’t even remember the last time you were both together.”

y/n barely reacted, her fork pausing mid-air for only a second before she answered. “i’ve been fine. busy.”

sophia’s stomach twisted. busy? that was it? eight years, and all y/n could muster was busy?

carla continued, her smile unshaken. “well, that’s good to hear! you know, sophia was so upset after you moved. she talked about you all the time. it was like you never really left.”

y/n’s gaze flicked up briefly, holding sophia’s for the first time all night rather than looking away immediately. her expression was unreadable—detached, cool, and devoid of any warmth. sophia felt her throat tighten as y/n’s eyes lingered for a second before dropping back to her plate.

“yeah,” y/n said quietly, her voice carrying no emotion. “i guess it’s been a while.”

sophia felt the words catch in her throat. she wanted to say something—anything—but she couldn’t figure out if she wanted to yell or cry. y/n’s nonchalant tone was infuriating, as though those eight years hadn’t meant anything, as though sophia’s confession and the silence that followed didn’t matter.

“you know,” carla chimed in, completely missing the tension, “it’s so great to see you two in the same room again. just like old times, huh?”

this time, sophia laughed bitterly under her breath. “yeah. just like old times.”

when y/n’s eyes flicked up again and met sophia’s own, for the first time all night, her cold facade faltered just slightly. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to make sophia’s stomach twist again.

they both looked away, the silence hanging heavier than ever. maybe this wasn’t like old times at all. maybe it couldn’t be.

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[darinawrites]

Kang No-eul x f!reader| finding you in the games

Pairing: Kang No-eul x f!reader

Warnings: typical violence in squid game

A/n: I will be going feral if people don't write more for her and actually know her personality. This is sadly shorter than I'd like, I promise I'll give her more content. (Also, this is a complete new writing style for me, I hope I did it justice)

Coming back home to the last bit of humanity she has, you. She would immediately feel worry with the lack of presence in the house

Her worry deepens further when she calls out your name and you still don't make your presence be known. Her mind immediately turning to the worst possible scenario

Rushing to your shared bedroom, a wave of despair washing over her when she doesn't see your figure on the bed- or anywhere for that matter

When she finally spots the reason, she wouldn't believe it at first. Seeing the same brown card she held a few minutes ago on your bed

Would definitely blame herself, you were basically a piece of her. Always comforting her at the worst times. It made her be so besotted with you, your sweet smile always helping her. And now you're gone. She wanted to protect you, it was her duty that she set for herself. Feeling so disillusioned that she failed, her expression darkening

Crunching up her somber features as she looked closer and realized you were a player. Could this get any worse?

She knew you well, well enough to know that these games aren't meant for you. You were much too kind for your own good

Her hands palpitating at the thought that she would need to put a bullet in your head

A sigh of relief would be let out when she saw you talking with one of the players trough the black mask she had on. At last she could finally see you again, alive and well (for now)

She would most definitely be a mess of emotions when she holds the sniper in her hand, watching your body flinch as the first gunshot rang out in red light green light

Would she kill you? Would she keep you alive? She only contemplated joining these deplorable games to free miserable people, people like her. If you were so sorrowful that you joined these games, would you want her to shoot?

Ultimately, she would keep you alive if it ever came to that situation, she loves you too much to let go that easily. Not again, she wouldn't. Refusing to believe that killing was the solution for you

Would have a little smile when you successfully finished a game. Proud that you're holding better than she thought

With her higher rank, she'd try and order the circle guards to give you more food in the lunchbox

"Wow, you're lucky. You got so much more food than us!"

Her rank did sadly hinder her from seeing you more often. Usually only being able to see you in the games which made it harder for her to make it known to you that it was her

She'd try her best to position herself near you at all times, feeling elated everytime she saw your soft features. In these death games, she needed to be close to you at all times, eyes dwelling on every injury she could find to see if you needed any help. If you did, a roll of bandages would be found when you sat down on your chosen cot

And if the chance to have you alone came up, she'd take it and use it to the best of her abilities. Pulling off her mask and hearing the surprised gasp of yours as she pulled you to a secluded area. Letting your arms wrap around her body, the weight of your head on her shoulders. Hands brushing your hair as she told you all the information she could, with a few comforting words spilled between them too

That physical contact reminded her of better times, giving her a taste on where you both could be right now. It would give her the motivation to get out, to feel this, to feel you again

[doctorgirlsblog]

Merz Prinzessin vs. Dutch Lion (series)

Part 6: Fall from the grace and sinner kisses

Note: it's short, it's messy, it's exactly what their feelings are. Sue me 🚩

After the picture arrived, things started to get even worse for Max. Aria avoided him like the plague, drove more aggressively than ever before, and won almost every race and sprint. Lando was glued to her side, always smiling and kissing her at every opportunity. She mostly smirked, but nonetheless. They looked happy; Toto was happy, both as a father and as a team director. Max, on the other hand, was miserable. The championship was slipping through his fingers, Aria had already slipped away, and he could do nothing except watch.

His eyes pierced through her as she chatted with Lando, stroking her nails down his arm. That should be him and she knew it. Hell, he risked everything for her and this is the shit that she pulls?

Kelly was watching him from inside the garage as he turned away from them to head back in. The baby was growing healthy; he supported her, talked about names with her, but he wasn't really there. At least, his heart wasn't. Social media was full of Lando and Aria; wherever he looked, everyone was amazed by the new couple in the paddock, going so far as to comment on how her rivalry with Max stopped as soon as she found Lando and fell in love. Something about 'new perspectives'.

And as the poor Lando still had no clue what was going on between the two before all this, he still talked to Max about his new sweetheart, not even wondering why the usual yapper wasn't saying anything about it.

Aria stayed away. He caught her smirking whenever she saw him looking her way, but that was it. Until Max finally had enough in Italy.

"We need to talk."

Nothing; like she didn't even hear him, she kept walking to her parked car, swaying her hips, and typing on her phone.

"Will you just stop for a fucking minute? I just want to talk to you." Max was now nearly jogging to keep up with her. The parking lot was almost empty, except for a few crew members here and there, as Aria was one of the last to leave, having been in a team meeting.

"We don't have anything to talk about, Verstappen," she said abruptly over her shoulder, now nearing her parked Mercedes.

"What do you mean we don't have anything to talk about? You've been avoiding me for months, ever since I texted—"

"Stop it," she turned to face him, her face in a scowl, glaring angrily at him.

"You don't get to chase after me, after leaving me hanging. After getting her pregnant right after saying all that bullshit about needing me. You don't get to run after me, the moment I decide to do the same to you. You fucking hypocrite!"

Max stepped closer, getting angry himself.

"You know very well that I left her! For you! I explained it to her! But you're the one talking, saying you want me and then running to Lando because you simply couldn't wait for two fucking minutes!"

"Don't bring Lando into this. He isn't your problem. She crossed her arms, her expression cold as ice.

"You're right, he isn't. You.." he stepped even closer to her, so he even felt her breath hitch slightly, before continuing, "are my fucking problem." before she even registered what happened, his hand snaked behind her neck, pulling her face to his and locking their lips together.

Aria's eyes snapped wide open in shock and she tried pushing him away, which only resulted in him snaking his other arm around her waist and pulling her even closer to him.

It wasn't gentle, careful, or loving. No, it was rough. A clash of tongues and teeth, all the pent-up anger swimming to the surface after months of torture, like they were both trying to prove a point, to win. After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled away, breathing hard, eyes still closed. As Max opened his mouth to finally tell her to stay, that he did want her and only her, that he even… Aria pulled away abruptly, opening the car door and getting in as quickly as possible.

He placed his hands on the car window, his voice muffled to her ears. "Aria, no, please wait! I—" But the car pulled away, not before he saw her wiping a corner of her eye angrily.

"...love you," Max finished to himself, watching the car blur away.

[woahjo]

why am i STILL getting aging up discourse in my ask box about bnha. the series is over, they’re all in their 20s. you can put the gun down now.

[ruporas]

post ep 11

[possamble]

What are your headcanons about Marcille's mom if you have any? It's interesting that what drew Donato to her was cause she lived the history he studied, or that was said somewhere at least. She must've had an interesting life.

so this was going to be just a normal answer but then I realized I have a Lot of Things To Say. so here goes, a compilation of what we know for a fact from the canon, what I've extrapolated from the visual cues and details, and my theories based on all of that.

Things we know for a fact about Marcille's mother because they were explicitly stated in the manga and supplemental materials:

She was a court mage for a Tall-man kingdom at the southern part of the Northern Continent

Donato, a court historian, fell in love with her because she had lived through the history he was studying, and he courted her for 17 years (age 15 to 32) before getting married

She was a cheerful person who rarely showed extreme emotion and took things as they came

She always cooked a huge meal for Marcille on her birthdays

She remarried a gnome after Donato's death and a short distance away from Marcille's childhood home

Pipi, Marcille's pet bird, was actually older than Marcille and originally belonged to her mother (bird died at 62)

She was extremely heartbroken when Donato died and ultimately ended up instilling a deep fear of mortality in Marcille with her words

the only time she showed extreme emotion in front of her family was when Donato could no longer eat his favourite dish near the end of his life.

She scolded Marcille for being cruel to ants (implying she can have a stern side when needed)

Things that are explicitly shown but mostly through visual cues

She has a very distinctive style of dress always involving a ribbon choker (mirroring Marcille's habit of always wearing a matching choker with any of her outfits that don't cover her neck)

She was almost stereotypically good at housekeeping and traditionally "wifely" things (very frequently depicted wearing an apron or doing some domestic chore when not at work, seems to have been an avid cook).

She knits? (also, note the affectionate smile as she's looking at Donato and Marcille reading a book together in the full panel)

She was as excited for Marcille's milestones as Donato was.

She didn't tell Marcille much about elven food

(there are a couple things that this panel in particular implies:

She lived a good deal of her life (if not being born and raised) in a mainly elven country in the West, implied by her knowing enough of an elven region's cuisine to prefer Tall-man food over it

seems to have a pretty carefree and casual demeanour overall, if this is how she replied to Marcille asking her about it (sounds like she never gave her culinary preferences that much thought to begin with)

slightly related to number 2, it seems like she and Marcille had a fairly casual parent-child dynamic (especially in comparison to the Toudens' memory of their father)

(local elf tastes Italian food once and never goes back))

However, she seems a lot more... serious in most of the other times we see her? Almost like the very stereotypical archetype of a graceful elf.

Subsequent conclusions about her personality:

Usually pretty carefree and cheerful at home, has been a loving and attentive parent throughout Marcille's childhood (while not being so doting that she didn't discipline Marcille).

Slightly more conjectural theories on her personality:

Had a much more graceful and professional personality at work, which would explain the more serious portraits we see of her.

Given that both she and Donato had positions at the royal court, it seems a little odd that she'd go out of her way to do all the housework herself, so maybe she just enjoyed doing it?

Now taping all the evidence together and toeing the line between analysis and fanfiction:

It's clear that she loved Donato very much and was utterly devastated by losing him. But there's one thing that really stuck out to me in what little we see of her:

Doesn't she seem... angry? The way she's gritting her teeth, clutching the tablecloth, and how this is the first and only time we see her eyes opened that wide. In the following panel, you see her being quiet and dejected after her initial outburst. She's still crying very intensely, but her brows are furrowed, and she's not really responding to Donato's affection in her body language.

We're not told the details of how she felt about losing Donato other than that it upset her. But this, to me, implies that she was angry and resented that he was aging, that the end of his life was approaching. An "it's not fair" type of preemptive grief. And if this was the first and last time she cried like this in front of her family, she was either very good at coping in private... or very bad at letting herself feel unpleasant emotions until they become unavoidable and end up overwhelming her.

It's not too remarkable a detail on the surface. It's even reminiscent of what the audience has seen of Marcille. But... when it comes to the big picture, you'd think an elf who voluntarily chose to marry a tall-man and have a half-elf child would have been better prepared for this.

It kind of recontextualizes her cheerfulness to me.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be okay!" (or some variation thereof, depending on what translation you have).

And this is stated to contrast her extreme grief when finally confronting Donato's failing body and eventual death. But I'm wondering if... maybe this optimism was why she was so upset. What if she went into all of it thinking "everything's gonna be okay"? What if she was a little young by elven standards, and just followed her heart thinking that her own resilience would get her through anything?

Of course, only to get completely overwhelmed when she actually loses Donato. She turns into a completely different person. And that's heartbreaking on its own-- but what the audience sees is the effect it had on Marcille. Can you imagine being her, watching your invincible and upbeat mother suddenly lose all the light in her eyes in one go?

I've already made a huge post about how I think Marcille models her "work persona" off her mother, but another thing that stuck with me as I was looking for more details in the manga was this:

copy pasting from the other post i made about it lmao it's like... the second she resigns herself to lifelong pain and terror, there's another portrait of her mother facing her like this. with their heads bowed, in mirrored body language of resignation and despair and sorrow. Except it's posed like Marcille is still looking at her mother but her mother is looking away.

It took me a second to realize, but I think that it's a visual metaphor for the fact that Marcille's mother was the only long-lived role model she had-- and she failed to model healthy grief for her daughter. I don't say this as an accusation or to disparage her as a character, but just as a matter of fact. In her, Marcille was seeing herself older and losing a short-lived spouse or loved one of her own, and all she saw was hopelessness.

But her mother didn't mean to instill hopelessness and terror in her. She wasn't really thinking of how it would truly affect Marcille at all (at least, that's how I'm interpreting her looking down and away from Marcille in the metaphor), she was just sad. And she, in her own way, was trying to protect her daughter and help her prepare for future losses.

What she meant was "loss is inevitable, and you have to learn how to be in pain but live on anyway." What Marcille heard was "loss is inevitable, and you will be scared and hurt for the rest of your life."

Again. Marcille's mother doesn't feature explicitly in the story the way her father does -- but in so many ways, her shadow, her silhouette, her reflection is always hanging over Marcille.

All that to say... headcanon-wise (everything from here on is 100% without evidence lmao), I'd like to think that she matured and realized that she failed Marcille. I imagine her being regretful about it, wanting a chance to fix it but never finding a way to insert herself back into Marcille's life when Marcille is so so so busy becoming the most accomplished mage possible. I imagine her being herself again, now, so many years after her loss and after remarrying -- but with her cheerfulness tempered with a lot more wisdom and the pain of having gone through loss like that. I think the second Marcille actually tells her what happened in the dungeon, she'd want to go running to her daughter again -- if Marcille tells her the full truth instead of just being embarrassed she let things get that far. (oh, the tragedy of her wanting to be more like her mother and an accomplished adult who doesn't need to be babied... being embarrassed to actually tell her mother how much she fucked up...)

There's also the tension of her having remarried -- I know that there's at least a little bit of resentment that Marcille harbours about that, because she's childish like that at heart even if she makes an effort not to externalize it. I think that her mother would be aware of that, potentially adding to her sense of guilt and apprehension at trying to reappear/intrude on Marcille's life. I honestly don't think Marcille has met her stepfather -- or even considers him a stepfather rather than "mama's new husband" and kind of a total stranger. I think she and her mother actively don't talk about it in their correspondence, like an elephant in the room.

but, ultimately, I think her mother is on her side no matter what. Ancient magic? Dark necromancy? Sure, she'll feel guilty and like she was partially responsible for setting Marcille down such a painful path, but she wouldn't care. that's her daughter!! she would've moved back west and been petitioning for her at the court, buying a house right next to the Canaries barracks and visiting her every day that she wasn't on a mission. And if her husband had opinions on Marcille becoming a "dark arts user," he either gets over it or it's divorce with him. Yes, she might have had her optimism completely humbled by losing Donato like that -- but she's still headstrong and self-assured and she doesn't care what people think of her. It's her way or the highway and she's always going to be in Marcille's corner.

(She also needs a name lol. I went with Juno, just to be cute about "Marcille"s closest real life equivalent being Marcella, which is the female version of Marcellus, which in turn is a diminutive of Marcus, which was derived from Mars. Absolutely in love with Marcille potentially being named after Ares/Mars the fucking god of war btw)

[sqlmn]

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Brent doesn't understand the concept of being bought a joke, like, why would someone SPEND MONEY on a joke? Since Karen's his friend and bought him a shirt, he's like. Legally obligated to wear it at least once... ? Probably?

So while he suffers over the idea of wearing it and not wanting to wear it at work he eventually would wear it and Karen would suffer the fact she needs to actually not try to joke too much in a teasing way if it's gonna be Treated Seriously. Right suffering from being gay because oh, Brent looks nice in color. (Chris would find out about it at work that he missed Brent in color and just stares at Karen because she is an absolute menace how did she manage that.)

[merlinmerlot]

i finally finished bg3

and it only took me [looks at steam]

SIX HUNDRED HOURS

[seventh-district]

sighs and collapses and disintegrates into the wind

[millionsknives]

genuinely these panels are going to make me ugly cry

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[digirainebow]

i didn't think jacob would be arguing with olivia, wanting it almost as much as her. what the hell. i expected the self defeated, taking one for the team attitude but actively needing it like her? when he had been trying to stop her all night? i feel like i've been blasted by a buckshot

[sunkissedlouis]

.

[soul-of-rei]

anyways i am once again thinking about totk zelink and once again i am Not Ok