#not an ounce of respect for single people

[theside-b]

PERFECT PROPOSE's Kaneko Shunya and Nomura Kouta

[starcurtain]

I know everyone sees Itto as Genshin's comedic relief, but I'm telling you all, Alhaitham is actually the funniest character in Genshin Impact.

According to the fandom, he's hot, he's famous, he's the one in charge of the house...

But according to the people of Sumeru? Dude became grand sage and not a single NPC around the city had a thing to say about that. Sachin's son got his ass beat and he didn't even know who Alhaitham was; it was just "some guy in green." People on the streets are said to not even notice Alhaitham, let alone be able to identify him by appearance. The only time we ever hear NPCs directly commenting on Alhaitham, it's Siraj's collective who hate Alhaitham's guts. Dori refuses to work with him. Random Eremites call him a lunatic within two minutes of meeting him.

Alhaitham's reputation in Sumeru is "Who? Ah, that guy? I heard he's weird," and then everyone moves on.

Meanwhile, Kaveh is literally famous enough to have an epithet ("the Light of Kshahrewar"), is the lead architect on entire city redesigns, and was trusted before Alhaitham's take over to do work on the Akademiya itself. He built the most famous landmark in the rainforest outside of the Divine Tree. He's well-known enough that people bank on his reputation to start scams; people send their children to take courses with him in the belief that it will bless them with successful future careers. He's known for philanthropic endeavors to help the poor and disadvantaged. He won the Interdarshan Championship. This is the Sumeru equivalent of winning an Olympic gold medal!!

Kaveh is the Taylor Swift to Alhaitham's Travis Kelce. They might have independent success, but in every measurement of public sentiment, Kaveh vastly outshines Alhaitham, and the fandom should really take a step back and think about how hilarious this makes everything about their situation in canon.

For the few in Sumeru who are actually paying attention, sure, Alhaitham is the (former) acting grand sage who makes a pretty penny and owns the house Kaveh lives in. For the average majority of Sumeru's citizens who are way more likely to know Kaveh? Alhaitham is literally just "that guy who is shacked up with the Light of Kshahrewar."

Kaveh's efforts to keep where he lives a secret just makes him come across like one of those reclusive types of artists who value their privacy. Half the public in Sumeru probably think he just prefers to keep himself and his lover out of the limelight. Kaveh was so busy pretending not to be poor, he forgot that every ounce of pretending he does just helps him keep his own celebrity status. The harder he attempts to act secretive about where he lives and with whom, the more it comes across as "Please respect this famous person's privacy and stop asking about the details of his relationship."

And Alhaitham, for whom being "that guy who is shacked up with the Light of Kshahrewar" is THE life goal? Everything is going according to keikaku. Kaveh has convinced the entirety of Sumeru that he and Alhaitham are in a relationship, all without Alhaitham having to lift a finger. The more determined Alhaitham gets to fly under the radar, the more it looks like he's Kaveh's kept man. If you aren't living with him because you're broke, then why are you living with him, Kaveh? There's simply no way for Alhaitham to lose.

It's just... so funny.

[astralnymphh]

CALLING ALL FANFICTION AUTHORS!

please reblog this. i've talked about this twice before, but obviously not everyone has seen it. i am calling for anyone who writes fanfiction or posts about a certain game/show/universe in any connective manner to please, please- PLEASE, copy this memo below comprising links to supporting palestine, education on the situation in gaza, and a must-need for those who engage in TLOU tumblr; links regarding the creators (neil druckmann) zionism, and how the plot of tlou2 is based on the israeli occupation of palestine. i don't care if what you write seems "insignificant" or "small" in the grouping of larger fics. no. everything that is not related to palestine in any form NEEDS these links. because, when we stray away from reblogging, or writing up our own posts in support of palestine/sharing journalists stories/etc. even for a SINGLE piece of writing, we could be missing people who are unaware (which, shouldn't be the case atp, but..) and fucking especially because in these fandoms, fics are the most popular thing. not reblogs about palestine, unfortunately; there are so many fanfiction accounts who very clearly don't give a fuck about the whole situation, seeping in silence, posting fics during strikes, not taking accountability for it now, so on and so forth. please, for the love of all that is good- CALL THEM OUT! people gaining hundreds of notes, tens of reblogs, supportive comments on a post that completely disregards what is happening SO BOLDLY right now, should irk you. i swear, if i see one more fuckass "i didn't know!" apology from an author who is CONSTANTLY on tumblr, REGULARLY posting fanfiction, i'm going to fucking lose it. if you are on tumblr to begin with, being this active- you have time to reblog. actually, educating yourself and reblogging is way quicker than writing up fanfiction of any length. are you fucking kidding me? you are laughable. comical, not real, and i have nay an ounce of respect for you. ever. but besdies that; the memo. i want everyone to copy this, or make something similar. put this above your summaries, authors note, whatever comes before the writing. every post you make should link back to supporting palestine, cause you never know how many eyes it will reach. it could change a lot of things. on pc, i believe copying it completely will preserve the links, but i'm not sure if mobile will. again. do whatever you can to add it. don't be lazy. put this in ur masterlists/navigation too.

for all fanfiction authors:

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

for tlou fanfiction authors:

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

you may add what is necessary, i wanted to keep it short for attention span sakes, and to avoid people skipping it entirely, and so on. i may edit these, fix up anything, but again, if you're using them you can edit them however. as long as you are linking anything in general, that is what matters. thank you, love from aestra. from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

perhaps I'd have an ounce of respect for pro-pals if they even pretended to care that their movement directly lead to things like a 12 year old jewish girl being kidnapped and raped, or jews being attacked outside a synagogue in LA, or hundreds of bomb and shooting threats to synagogues, hebrew schools, jewish community centers, etc. if they made it clear that they vehemently disagreed with these people and didn't welcome them in their spaces then id respect that. but they dont do that. at best they dont care and at worst they agree with it. I havent seen a single pro-pal denounce any specific instance of antisemitism done in the name of "palestinian activism", yet I have seen plenty defend these actions.

I just can't have much respect for people who get so so upset at a country for responding to one of the largest terrorist attacks in history (honestly almost unimaginably large given the overall population of israel) in which they are still people being held hostage from. and I definitely can't respect people who use tragedies like this because they're foaming at the mouth at the chance to hate jews.

(this is not about people who simply care about the wellbeing of palestinians. this is about the fact that antisemitism is embedded in the pro-pal movement and no one except jews and our occasional goyische allies seem to care)

[hannie-dul-set]

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES.

p — MYUNG JAEHYUN x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business. w — swearing, death threats (as a form of flirting). 1.5k words.

requested by — @gluion “go kill yourself x “i’m pretty sure they have a crush on me”

note — part of my ship dynamics: insane edition gimmick. this is very the breakup soup coded. i just like writing about a bunch of idiots stressing about the dumpster fire love life of their friend. enjoy.

myung jaehyun’s friends are pretty sure he’s had a very stable, very loving, very normal upbringing.

“stop staring at me, you fucking creep.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make your heart flutter. can’t help it when you’re so pretty.”

“i’ll stab your fucking eyes out.”

“my eyes are all yours, pretty.”

so they can’t wrap their head around why he’s acting like he has not a single ounce of self-respect in his body. sungho and leehan watch as their pitiful friend gets shut down again by the most venomous glare, hostile sneer, deflected by the biggest pair of heart eyes in the world that’s ever longingly following your disappearing figure out the library door. “she wants me so bad,” he concludes with a self-righteous smile as he arranges his notes into one neat stack. sungho and leehan share a look. god almighty, please grant their friend wisdom and salvation.

“what...what makes you say that?” sungho attempts to prod. the first step to finding a solution is to figure out the situation. they need to know why myung jaehyun is so down bad for you, and why he’s so convinced that you feel the same way.

“huh?” jaehyun perks up. like he’s genuinely confused sungho has to ask that. “she was so flustered earlier. couldn’t you tell? it was adorable.”

“she threatened to mutilate you…?” 

jaehyun beams. “she sure did.”

there...there is no point trying to understand him, sungho concludes. leehan is, for lack of a better word, getting mildly frustrated. “hyung, what the hell?” he raises. “if telling someone you want them dead is an indication of romantic feelings, then my middle school bullies must’ve been head over heels for me.”

a silence. a pause. “we’ll unpack that later,” sungho tells him. then shifts his attention back to problem child number one. “you. you’re a grown man who has full autonomy over his actions and feelings, and i know that. but as your friend, i just can’t keep watching you being disrespected, jaehyun. i can’t help but get angry on your behalf when you greet her good morning and alll she does is tell you to go fuck yourself!”

admittedly, sungho got a little bit heated at the end there. but he has every right to feel this emotion on behalf of his dense and seemingly unaffected friend— who is still sitting there, a smile on his face, hands on his lap like a patient buddha who has learned the true meaning of peace and serenity.

“sungho-yah,” jaehyun starts with a pleasant hum. “there’s no need to worry. the feeling is totally mutual. i’m telling you, she likes me back.”

speechless.

in fact, sungho and leehan are beyond speechless. they have no idea where this ungrounded certainty comes from. they certainly have even less of an idea on how to fix his lovesickness, bordering on insanity.

so, reasonably— they call for backup.

“the only way for him to get his shit together is if he asks her out for real and finally gets rejected for good,” taesan declares confidently. somehow, they see a point. riwoo lets out an echo of agreement. woonhak asks why they’re all excluding jaehyun from this after school garage meeting. “do you guys know when he’s planning on doing that?”

“no idea,” leehan answers. “but maybe we can pressure him into it.”

“so, should we encourage him instead of telling him to give it up?” sungho raises. taesan affirms. sungho lets out a grunt and a huff. “god, that’s gonna be tough.”

a resounding voice of dissent arises from woonhak. “i don’t get why you’re all going against jaehyun-hyung!” he yells indignantly. “let hyung love whoever he wants! this is a free country! you guys can’t dictate his love!”

“he’s received fuck you’s straight in the face and swears she’s flirting, woonhak. you’re too young to understand.”

it’s four votes against one. woonhak can’t win against his hyung’s determination to save myung jaehyun from his self-dug pit of pitifulness that he’d been in ever since laying eyes on you at the freshman orientation. god, they never should’ve went. he never should’ve shot down jaehyun’s suggestion to just skip it. maybe then, myung jaehyun would still be normal.

but this is not the time to lament and regret. it’s time for sungho to right his wrongs. it’s time to bring jaehyun’s self-respect back, they decide. and it starts with a wake-up call in the form of your inevitable, brutal rejection. 

which, for some reason, does not happen as planned.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date.” jaehyun is as chipper as ever and sungho’s ears are starting to ring. “thanks for the encouragement, sungho!”

it’s ringing. it’s ringing so badly. “wait, what do you mean you’re going on a date?” he attempts to clarify, grabbing jaehyun by the shoulders because this is two-parts concerning, one-part kind of…proud? this guy actually succeeded? “she said yes? she didn’t tell you to fuck off and die in a hole?”

“she did. she looked pretty while saying it.” jaehyun answers with a bright grin. nevermind. this is all parts concerning. sungho “she also told me she’d kill me if i pick her up late after her class tomorrow. we’re going to have dinner at the thai restaurant that just opened. riwoo recommended it.”

sungho does not understand. he cannot understand because you, who seems to hate all of myung jaehyun’s guts for no discernible reason, agreed to go on a date with him? hello? has jaehyun been right this whole time? do you really reciprocate his feelings? or is this just some new form of torture? is his friend a masochist? is he the weird one for making a big fucking deal out of this? is this how relationships work nowadays?

a thought enters sungho’s mind.

hold on a second—

“anyway, i gotta go, dude. a pretty girl is waiting for me.”

—what if this date is a ploy for you to finally get the chance to kill him?

oh my god.

“wait!” sungho’s face is pale. his eyes are wide and frantic. “don’t—don’t go on the date!”

“hm?” jaehyun bats his eyes at him, taking a moment to think. then sparkles in realization. “oh! don’t worry. i’m not gonna show up looking like this. i’m gonna head home first to change.”

“that’s not the problem! jaehyun! no! no!”

this is it, his friend is going to die. that is, unless, he shows up on your date just in time to stop it. yes. there’s still a chance. he knows where the date is happening. he’s gonna tell the rest of them because there’s no way in hell they’d allow myung jaehyun’s cause of death to read stupidity by misconstruing your murderous intent as affection. they are not only going to save jaehyun’s life— but his dignity as well.

“remember, be quiet. be inconspicuous. they can’t figure out we’re here.”

hopefully, things go as planned this time. all five of them are gathered in a booth at the said thai restaurant, the eventual scene of the crime unless they do something about it. sungho is surveying the scene to find where you and jaehyun are seated. leehan nearly trips over his unnecessarily long trench coat while trying to cover more ground. woonhak is using the menu as cover but has since gotten distracted and has started to pick out his order with riwoo and taesan. “hyung, is the khao soi good?”

“yeah, we should order it.”

“what drinks should we get?”

this is hopeless. this is a mess. their best friend is about to die and all they can think about is dinner.

no matter. sungho can still take care of this himself. his eyes scan the main restaurant wing, from left to right, until his eyes double over in a screeching halt to the back of a very familiar round head—

“huh.”

the back of a very familiar round head that doesn’t seem to be facing the threat of decapitation.

sungho sees you and jaehyun sitting across from one another, jaehyun’s fairly loud voice raising over the music and utensils clattering, people chatting and passing by. “you’ve got something on your face.”

“touch my face, and i’ll kill y— hey!”

first of all, sungho wants to claw his own eyes out seeing his friend being disgustingly sweet. second, jaehyun did touch your face with a napkin and it does not seem like you’re attempting to murder him. in fact, you look flustered even. flushed despite the harbored glare, still seated despite your apparent derision and disgust. the back of jaehyun’s head looks exceedingly happy. the dots aren’t connecting. sungho is malfunctioning. 

“should…should we interfere…?” leehan asks, his nose barely peeking out of the trench coat collar.

“i think...i think we should just leave them alone.”

“but isn’t his life in danger?”

“i misunderstood.”

forget misunderstanding. sungho can’t even behind to understand in the first place and has settled that he wouldn’t even try so long as myung jaehyun is happy— happy with being on the receiving end of fuck you’s and go to hell’s in response to his you’re so pretty’s and see you tomorrow’s, happy with getting his advances swatted away and shut down, happy with whatever the fuck is going on between you and him that sungho really can’t just wrap his head around.

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V.1 - P.1

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, fem!MC and high school crush! male! NES (MC x NES)

Main Masterlist

Replaced MC AU/AU Masterlist (check the other versions and learn more about the NESs!)

Intro (gn!reader)

CW: unrequited love, rejection, insecure demons, i refuse to let MC be a doormat, lesson 16 mentioned, my interpretations of the pacts, suggestive (kinda? i dont know), MC is down bad for NES, golden retriever NES, both MC and NES are in their 20s

There were two songs during the writing of this part: Rock Lobster and Girl With One Eye; do with that information what you will

.

Diavolo liked NES. What a fine addition to the program he was! Invested in his studies, clearly interested in the new world he had been suddenly thrown to and cooperative as an advisor whenever MC was occupied with other matters. Charismatic, polite and respectful, still acting with naiveness, but quickly adapting to his surroundings.

No wonder MC used to be in love with him.

That was a surprise for everyone, although he’d be lying if he said it was a pleasant one. Solomon had laughed at the turn of events, stating how lucky MC was finding NES years later. In hell, no less! And while that made everything easier in terms of getting to know the Devildom from a familiar face, seeing MC smile with that bashfulness whenever she crossed paths with NES wasn’t something none of them were keen on. 

Sending him to Purgatory Hall despite MC’s protests was the obvious choice. The House of Lamentation was already crowded and having MC share her room was both unnecessary and unfair; at least, that’s what Lucifer said.

Both of the angels’ and Solomon’s reports were as positive as they could be. Luke thoroughly enjoyed baking with him, Simeon described his company as delightful and the sorcerer was ecstatic when he announced that NES tried every single one of his dishes, which just proved his bravery and resilience. 

Diavolo liked NES, yes, but he’d like him even more if MC liked him a little less.

.

.

“So those are pacts?”

MC stared at NES, mouth dry and words stuck in her throat. She needed to blink, but she didn’t know how to do that without looking weird. Of course NES’s eyes had to look like that under the light of the fireplace. 

“MC?”

“Yes?”

He laughed and her heart skipped a beat. There wasn’t an ounce of malice in his voice, making her wish his soft smile was born out of the intimate bubble encasing them. If she focused enough, she could swear NES had a blush in his cheeks. If only that wasn’t due to the heat.

“The pacts, MC”

“Oh, yeah”

Could the earth swallow her if she was already in hell?

“They’re bonds I share with the brothers. Kinda like…”

She didn’t know what to say then. That she could command the brothers and they had no other choice but to obey her? He'd discover the true meaning of the pacts if he asked the right people, mainly Solomon, but it still seemed like a fact too vulnerable to share.

“It means she’s part of the family” a voice behind them intervened. “That she belongs with us”

MC jumped and turned around at lightning speed, drowning in embarrassment at the realization that she’d completely forgotten about Satan’s presence in the library. However, something in his words irked her mind. Did he want to say that? Or rather that she belonged to them?

“That’s nice, right?” 

She looked at NES, who was smiling despite the heavy silence in the air. Satan scoffed, no doubt in a mocking tone, and MC wondered with sudden ire how far she could go.

“Well, these are just two of them”

Mammon’s, covering the tip of her fingers in pure black with golden swirls; and Beel’s, dripping out of her mouth down the length of her throat.

“And where are the others? They look really cool!”

“Come closer, I’ll show you Satan’s”

Said demon snapped his book close, turning around with glaring eyes. MC ignored him and opened her mouth, letting herself enjoy NES’s presence so close to her body. There was ink in her tongue, drawing hard edges in the shape of a very elaborated arrow. NES stared at it in amazement, unconsciously grabbing MC’s chin and moving it side to side, up and down, to admire the tattoo better.

“Do you want to see the others?”

NES took his hand away, discreetly looking at Satan out of the corner of his eye.

“Would you…?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary” 

The blond glared at them and MC stared him down with a silent warning.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make”

The tension was thick once again and MC sighed when NES looked away in awkwardness, but she couldn’t let Satan spoil what she wanted to be a nice date.

“Come with me to my room, NES, I’ll show you the rest of them”

He didn’t need any reassurance, taking his DDD and MC’s blanket with him before following her out of the room. 

The fireplace was still lit, but Satan felt unusually cold. 

.

.

“She invited him to her room?!” Asmo clutched his chest before covering his annoyance in fake saccharine words. “How daring!”

“Lucifer will be furious!” cried Levi trying not to drop his DDD in his drink, finally letting it rest on the table and keeping his trembling hands inside his pockets.

“Why didn’t you stop them?” 

Satan looked at Mammon in disbelief, sneering at his brother’s furious expression. 

“Do you really think I didn’t want to? She wasn’t exactly happy with me at the moment!”

“Well, no wonder! You cock-blocked her!” 

Levi screeched at Asmo with a horrified look in his face, tears already in his eyes and fingers fidgeting with his jacket’s zipper.

“She’s raising their intimacy levels at ultimate speed! She’s taking the shortcut! There’s no way a yucky disgusting otaku could compete with that!”

Asmo rolled his eyes, patting the sobering demon’s back.

“None of us can compete with that, Levi”

Everyone looked at Mammon in surprise, but he was staring at his fingers, completely defeated. 

“As much as it pains me to say this, Mammon is right”

“Oi! Have some respect for your older brother!”

“Shut up, you moron! I’m taking your side” speaked Asmo once again. He sighed and crossed his arms, hugging himself with sadness. “MC already made her choice. The only thing we can do is slow the process”

“Then we’ll do that”

Satan seemed determined, rejecting Mammon’s supporting touch when he leaned over his chair to grasp his arm. He got up and started to grab his things, stopping only when he heard Levi’s nervous voice.

“She’s already mad at you, Satan. Like… bosslike mad at you.”

“Do you really want to risk that?”

He refused to meet his brothers’ eyes, nor their fear, their empathy or their dejectedness. Without saying another word, he stepped out of Café Lament and set foot to the House of Lamentation.

.

.

MC loved the brothers. They’d become family, even with the death threats, the broken wall and the murder. They knew what she liked to do and eat and wear and they were more than happy to indulge in her wishes. 

But if they interrupted her time with NES one more time, so help me God, she’d give Hell a whole new meaning.

First it was Satan, sitting next to her in every class and cutting every attempt at a conversation with NES short in the name of a proper education. Then followed Belphie, who slept on the floor by her bedroom door, locking her inside and forcing her to jump out of the window, which gave everyone a heart attack. 

Lucifer mildly scolded them for that, stating himself above the poor behavior they were displaying, but still found multiple reasons for MC to be in his office for hours on end. Same as Levi, who pulled three all-nighters in a row and left her half-dead for a week. 

Mammon and Beel had been more subtle, both inviting her to movie nights, cooking sessions and shopping sprees. She only put a stop to all of the nonsense when Mammon tried to intercept her when she was on her way to a date with NES, excusing himself with a poor idiotic story about some angry witches. 

Strangely, the only one not to have a stupid scheme against her crush was Asmo. She almost expected him to be the most obvious about it, but nothing happened. He still did her nails and he helped her choose her outfits whenever she had a date with NES, albeit with a harsher critical attitude. 

He quickly became the nicest one to be around and she had no qualms in saying so.

“Oh, MC! You always know how to make me happy!”

“But it is true! I don’t know what’s wrong with the others! They’ve been acting so weird…”

Asmo stopped rummaging through her closet, turning around to look at her with an unamused expression. He looked tired.

“Honey… Surely you know. You must know”

They stayed in silence for a few seconds, both knowing that MC knew what he was talking about. All seven brothers had been interested in her to some extent, claiming ownership over her soul on more than one occasion, and this was the first time she’d rejected all those statements in such an obvious way. 

“We miss you, MC” 

Not the whole truth, but something neither of them could deny. 

“I miss you too”, she assured him. 

She could’ve left it at that, ending the raw, vulnerable talk in a positive tone. Alas, things weren’t always that easy. 

“But I like him. So, so much”

MC didn’t want to cry, but she was close. The dejection in Asmo’s eyes lasted long enough for her to almost regret knowing NES for so many years. In the end, he hid himself amongst her pile of clothes and continued looking for a good outfit.

“I’ll find time for you, I swear. For all of you”

Asmo nodded without looking at her, ending the conversation when he threw some clothes in her direction and waited for the mandatory catwalk. 

It wouldn’t be enough, but it was the best the brothers could ever get. After all, if someone deserved to be happy and in love, it was her.

.

.

.

Taglist: @stfuchaase @k1-an @megs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006

[tora-the-cat]

I don't care much for akatsuki sitcom antics EXCEPT. In relation to Itachi Kisame Deidara and Tobi. Deidara HATES both Uchiha and thinks that Kisame is the only respectable guy here. Kisame doesn't like Deidara because both Uchiha are the only people on this side of the continent he gives half a shit about (his best friend and his weird ward, respectively). Obito is having the time of his life hanging out with literally his only friend, his adorable grumpy cousin that he has to keep an eye on but has enough self preservation not to talk to, and the single most amusing person in the world to fuck with. Itachi listens to Kisame and likes him well enough maybe, but mostly he's just dissociating at all hours UNLESS Tobi opens his fucking mouth and then Itachi uses every ounce of 16 y/o autistic girl swag possible to psychicly induce heart failure. Doesn't even notice Deidara is there most of the time, even though Deidara spends most of his time talking shit about Itachi. This obviously only pisses off Deidara more, making Kisame more annoyed at the blonde and Obito infinitely more amused, rinse and repeat until they spiral into attempted murder over literally nothing. Smashcut to Hidan three rooms away fucking an 80 year old bounty hunter next to the corpse of a ritual sacrifice hearing them yell through the walls and going 'thank Jashin I'm normal'.

[jellywalker-apocalypse]

The Dark Cacao Kingdom was always barren.

It had always been like that, for the longest time that Caramel Arrow—or really, even Hollyberry—could remember.

But.. seeing it completely empty, with snow filling in holes of destroyed lives and broken dreams, was still such a shock to witness. Every footstep they took echoed. The silence felt deafening, especially after so long hearing blubbering zombies over your shoulder for months. It was just so.. weirdly different. The corridors that Caramel Arrow once knew almost felt new, despite their layout being unchanged. It was simply.. unsettling.

Though.. even with the growing worries, Caramel Arrow felt herself being unable to give up hope. Desperately grasping for any ounce of hope that the Kingdom she so suddenly abandoned managed to find any way to persevere. Any way to keep both itself and the people within safe, continuing on with their duties in complete and utter control. Any way to make sure there were as little casualties as possible.

Hollyberry stood close behind the younger cookie, sharing almost the exact same hope—the hope of finding any survivors that may have survived whatever form of Jellywalker invasion hit the Kingdom so badly.

Neither of them said any words, though. The surrounding silence, although being usually scary, felt somewhat like a relief to hear. No sounds means no Jellywalkers, but.. also means no people.

As they approached the throne room, their hopes began to grow.. faltering. Absolutely zero signs of any stray cookies, right outside of the King’s throne room..

The two share an ever so slightly concerned glance. The King.. Dark Cacao. What had happened to him? There had been zero sign of him around their mini patrol of what was left of the Kingdom.

Dark Cacao.. no. There was no way he could have fallen—he was so set on protecting what he could. Determined to make sure his Kingdom was safe, kept away from danger..

…

The two are snapped from what felt like their own shared thoughts as another, quiet pair of echoing footsteps begin to sound throughout the hallway.

Yet, as soon as they come, they disappear, setting the hallway into silence again.

Caramel Arrow’s attention is almost immediately taken to the throne room’s entrance.

And she wastes absolutely zero time, practically running as fast as her exhausted body could let her without letting Hollyberry even get a single word out about anything that might’ve just made those footsteps.

Caramel Arrow’s mind was so set on the possibility of her King still being alive. She’d rush into a whole swarm of Jellywalkers if it meant at the end she got to see him alive.

But.. even while rushing as fast as she could to get a glance of what just walked around, the feeling of immense guilt brewed in the back of her mind. What would she even say to His Majesty? Admit that she ran from her duties, broke a vow she made years ago?

The watcher shakes her head as she continues bolting into the throne room, already beginning to feel her growing, everlasting exhaustion start creeping up on her.

As she makes it into the throne room, she pauses-stopping right in her tracks as she’s met with a figure sitting unmoving and unbothered delicately on the throne.

Dark Cacao Cookie.

He was dressed in his usual beat up armor, long cape draping down to the bottom of the throne itself.

Yet.. his crown was missing from his brow, instead being hung from the side of the throne. Almost as if he felt like he did not deserve to sit at a throne and wear a crown at the same time.

His face was obscured by his own messy and heavily unkempt hair, while his posture made it even harder to recognize his facial features. Furthermore, he made no noise or movement as Caramel Arrow began sprinting to him.

She stopped a few short feet away from the king, landing on one knee while she rested her arm on the other-tilting her head downward as a sign of respect and eagerness to follow his orders. Her feeling of guilt, though.. she could not deny it was continuing to grow at a rapid pace now that she knew he had lived through the invading swarm.

She would have to tell him everything while she could, but.. god, she didn’t want to.

Hollyberry followed shortly after, moving to put her hood down as she immediately recognized the cookie sat on the throne.

So he had lived.. she was incredibly relieved to at least know that. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she had to travel back to the Vanilla Kingdom after her voyage and bear the news of his death to Pure Vanilla and White Lily. It still brought up the question of what had happened to everybody else, though. Why was it that his kingdom is so.. empty?

She wishes she could talk with him as soon as possible, but.. she’s sure that the two Cacaoians need some of their own time to discuss what had even happened. Caramel Arrow didn’t seem too fond about talking directly to her about it.. perhaps she had waited to try and find the king of the Cacao Kingdom itself to mention it directly to him?

She carefully stops a few moments behind Caramel Arrow, keeping a concerned glance at the poor postured king sitting at the throne. Something was clearly.. wrong. There should be very little reason for him to be sulking like this atop his own throne…

The large room is thrown into complete silence, spare the noises of the blizzarding snow outside of the kingdom’s faltering walls. Nobody seemed to speak, to move, to try and reconcile..

It was all just silent.

And it was only making Caramel Arrow’s guilt eat up at her more and more.

With every moment of utter silence, Caramel Arrow grew guiltier and guiltier.

Her hope was dwindling. Having the king alive is only one step in the bigger picture of things.

Everyone else could be dead.

Everyone else could be dead because of her.

She ran.. she ran from—-

“…Caramel Arrow Cookie.”

Dark Cacao finally spoke, voice loud yet audibly broken and mentally weak.

“First Watcher. You’re.. brave to come here again. After everything.”

Caramel Arrow’s free hand grasped at the brick below her feet.

The room fell into silence again. Caramel Arrow’s breathing began to hitch. It was now clear she was struggling to keep her own composure.

Still, despite that, she attempted to speak in response.

The words she spoke, though, were saddening to even bear witness to. Words that she shouldn’t have to say. Not after everything Dark Cacao himself had put her through, even if the situation had been taken the wrong way. They were words that should be said to her, not words that she should have to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

That was the most quiet either Ancient had ever heard her. Her voice was wavering, unstable and shaky. Everything, from her own exhaustion to the guilt of her leaving everything behind, was crashing in as she tried to speak.

Hollyberry’s attention flicks back and forth from Dark Cacao to her, but the Ancient Cookie’s expression of pure worry does not waver. It was clear to her now that something was going to unfold, and she would be yet again powerless to stop it.

“I..” Caramel Arrow picks up again, her voice continuing to grow defeated at each word she struggled to force out of her mouth. “I failed to.. to complete my duties.. my vow..”

Dark Cacao repositions himself slightly, posture becoming more formal. He did not say a word.

“I did not stay true to my word.. my word of fighting until I couldn’t,” She continued, grip trying to grasp onto the floor more as she persisted in an attempt to ground herself. “Instead, I.. I failed to warn the Kingdom of the incoming threat. The.. the Jellywalkers.”

Dark Cacao lifts his head upwards, taking his attention to Hollyberry as Caramel Arrow mentions the Jellywalker horde. His expression was.. cold, but not towards either cookie displayed in front of him. He was simply.. troubled greatly by whatever pain this horde had caused.

It is another few moments before Caramel Arrow speaks again.

“I ran.”

And that’s all she says. That’s all she says as Dark Cacao quietly begins to rise from his slumped form on the throne and take heavy steps towards her figure, stopping only to continue listening intently to her. He has no.. words. No proper words to tell her, to comfort her, to do anything.

Caramel Arrow completely collapses forward, both of her hands desperately fumbling at Dark Cacao’s long, purple cape. Instead of the cruel, blizzarding winds outside, the citadel would instead be filled with the tired, dolorous cries of the devoted soldier in front of the king himself.

“I RAN!” She repeated in shout, grip tightening as much as possible on the fabric she had managed to grasp. “I ran, and I failed everything.. everyone.. I failed all the things I swore my own life to protect!”

There’s no room for silence. Caramel Arrow won’t let herself get quiet. She was going to spill out all her guilt, all of the truth she began to suddenly gather about the situation. She was going to cry until she couldn’t anymore.

“I failed my colleagues, the other Watchers. I failed the people within a now.. now completely shattered kingdom. I failed my only brother..!”

She just managed to choke out the last word of that sentence, throwing a weak punch at the ground below her as Dark Cacao only listened on. His gaze was turned onto Hollyberry, eyes clearly upset and considerate of everything the younger cookie was desperately speaking about.

“And— and worst of all, I.. I failed you. I failed you. I failed my own king, I failed the kingdom he told me to protect, I.. failed everything I ever cared to devote my life to. I failed it all, I..”

Caramel Arrow lets out a weak noise as she finally lets herself get quiet, sobs still filling the large throne room.

Dark Cacao’s attention doesn’t leave Hollyberry as Caramel Arrow continues to cry and sputter weakly at his feet, expression only growing more tender as the situation completely settles into him. If his situation was not already incredibly saddening, the fact that his most devoted soldier is blaming herself for saving her own life is making it infinitely worse.

He is so, so proud of how she was truly devoted to his Kingdom, even while in exile, but.. she shouldn’t begin blaming herself for a situation that was utterly out of her control and skill level.

Dark Cacao’s eyes slowly and somberly close as Hollyberry’s attention is brought upsettingly to the floor.

It…

It was going to be a long, painful moment of silence before he could get himself to speak.

[kaszuma]

Acta, Non Verba | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 3 of "Certainly Yours"

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader

summary: Soshiro had never been good with his words. But you knew enough that he didn't need to say things out loud.

warnings: slightly suggestive. combat suit admiration.

wc: 2,697

--

note: dialogue is hard to write. So if it sounds weird and oddly paced sorry about that. Not proofread at all and have been busy with work

--

It had been days since you shared that chaste kiss with the Vice Captain of the Third Division. Soshiro Hoshina.

The image of both your lips under the stairs leading up to the Training room had been the only thing devouring your mind's eye as of late. And that memory alone was enough to keep you energetic for the rest of the fortnight after.

You remember it very clearly.

The way his calloused fingertips ran circles around the skin of your jaw. The steady breaths he took as if he too had been nervous about sharing your lips for the first time.

And although Soshiro had not shown an ounce of his nerves. Not a hint of his expressions had turned sour nor worried. Hinting no regrets at the actions that led up to that point.

And It had been made very apparent that he too craved to be near you, just as much you did for him. You sought after the lingering sensation of his touches. Your body magnets towards him when he tries to pull away. His bruised lips that had tasted like the bitter coffee of the early mornings, lingered on yours that had preferred the sweetness of something else. And that reminded you of all those sideway glances you'd do to the back of his head in the mess hall during the dinnertime.

Who would've thought that you'd end up kissing a man as respected as Soshiro Hoshina.

Sure, his way of kissing was a little sloppy for the most part. Likely from not having done it for so long. But it was far too gentle. Hungry even. Like a silent plea, begging you to never pull away from him. Like you'd disappear if he didn't hold you close enough. And you had reciprocated his eagerness with open arms. Showing the same amount of need to be in close proximity with him.

And since then?

Those one off glances that used to linger no more than a minute had now lasted far longer than it should have. And people have been starting to notice. Especially because Soshiro did not bother masking his intention of seeing you on a daily basis. Though no one had thought to ask, since the Vice Captain had always been an enigma to the common recruit. Not a stain on his record. And certainly not worth the risk of insubordination.

So it came to everyone's surprise when his usual routine had been replaced with an afternoon coffee break. Followed by hasty footsteps towards the research center which he had rarely visited beforehand. His direction? Straight to the repair rooms where your Lab had been located.

Soshiro had never been good with his words. But you knew enough that he didn't need to say things out loud.

And the moment the door had opened, you didn't even bother to look up from the blueprint you were tasked at reading up on. A smile already etched on your face as you knew who exactly appeared at your doorstep.

“Here for another maintenance check?” You quipped. Knowing how many times he had used that same excuse in a single week. And you hear that familiar cheeky chuckle of his. One that had been a common occurrence especially when he was off-duty.

“I can’t help but be thorough.” He shrugs, amusement in his voice. And you had pushed the blueprint away from your hands. Swiveling the chair that you sat on so that you can finally face him. Just in time to see Soshiro slowly shutting the door from behind him.

You clicked your tongue in mock disappointment. “Tut tut. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were slacking off, Vice Captain.”

“Then I guess you're my accomplice.” He replied.

Making careful strides to reach you. Hands slotted on the back of his waist as his gaze lingered down your own form. Clad in that snug pencil skirt that hugged the shape of your hips. Particularly admiring the way your skin disappeared underneath it. He tried not to make it too obvious however. He didn't come here just for that. At least not yet in that sense. He still had his wits about him. Even if you were a sight to behold.

But his expressions never gave way to his thoughts. Slotting himself just a few ways in front of you where his shadow had towered over your form.

“I assure ya that I won't be the only one getting into trouble when you're around.” Soshiro had replied. Pointing towards you as you let out a small but playful scoff.

“Well, I’ll save us the trouble then. How about you help me out with work? I've been meaning to ask one of the officers to beta test the new suit upgrades anyway.” You had smiled, matching the level of his banters. Your chin raised up slightly as you directed his attention to the side where a singular Combat Suit had been displayed.

And Soshiro tilts his head towards it. Raising his brow with a small hum.

“Hmm. If I help ya, will I get a reward for It?”

You had blinked a few times to rid yourself of the sudden warmth in your chest. Already in anticipation of what he was planning. Somewhat at least. And the timing had been perfect when you had been witness to the steady chuckles that left his lips.

Cheeky Bastard.

“Maybe.” You shrug. Glancing away from under his scrutiny. Cause God knows his gaze would’ve caught the way a smile had already etched on your lips.

“Quite a roundabout way of telling me you want a kiss, but alright.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. But this was a reply you had expected. And Soshiro had a way with reading you like a book without meaning to. “I’m not the one who's asking for a reward to begin with.”

“Acting shy now are we?” Soshiro had turned to face away from you. Already wasting no time as he shrugged off the standard uniform jacket he wore. Revealing the black compression suit he always had on underneath it. A rare sight since he had always been seen in the standard military uniform that had hid his figure very well.

But with that tight shirt on?

It felt rude just to look. Especially when your thoughts couldn't help but sink down into the swells of admiration. That was indeed beyond the precipes of the respect and hard work that the Vice Captain put into his training.

“Where was all that confidence the last time I took your breath away?”

And you hold in the urge to smile. Slightly glad that he was already busying himself by wearing the rigged combat suit. Lest he'd see your cheeks dusted with pink.

Anytime you glance at his lips, you're only reminded of the time he had so easily pulled you in. Leaving your mouth a raging red and your breaths labored. A thought that makes your heart flutter at the mere memory of it, and it feels as if he holds a sense of power over you. A reminder that he could do such a thing again. If you wanted him to.

The moment the suit had completely molded against Soshiro's body. Your eyes couldn't look away at the density of his build. The way it had traced the taciturn abdomen which had not been so noticeable until now. Often hidden away in the confines of his uniform. The compression shirt had proven enough coverage. But with the combat suit it had always had a way to mold itself into the body like it was a second skin. And somehow, it has always been a magnet for your eyes to feast.

Especially so when Soshiro had fit into it so perfectly.

“You should take a picture, it'll last longer.” He had spoken. Not realizing that he had long since turned to your direction after stretching his arms to adjust to the familiar tightness of the suit. And you couldn't help but roll your eyes this time.

“Really?” Playful sarcasm dripped from your voice. “Thank you for pointing that out, Vice Captain. If not for you I wouldn't have known.”

The mock dramatics were light. Her usual feist had not gone away it seems. And it only makes Soshiro chuckle. “I think I'm beginning to rub off on ya.”

“I suppose that's a good thing. It makes it easier to handle your stellar personality. Now hold still.” You smile. Making your way towards him until you were mere inches apart from one another. Your hand likewise had pressed its firm palm on the back of his shoulder blades. Passed the metal plates that had the symbol of Japan’s Defense Force on it.

You slowly circled around him, hand dragging along the bio weapon that had covered his skin. A silent reminder that he had worn this countless times into the field. A layer of advanced chainmail that had protected Soshiro in the case of a Kaiju sneaking up from behind him. It was impressive the way he looked better in it than the rest of the Officers you've seen wearing it. Or maybe that was just your preferences talking.

Your hands feel the steady ridges of the muscle fibers that make up for his armor. Eventually reaching the familiar metallic ends that traced the curve of Soshiro’s spine. Tracing your fingers from the nape of his neck, down to the tailbone of his waist. And he tries his best not to shudder in response. A sharp inhale is all you hear as he managed to turn his head away with slightly reddened ears.

“You're taking your sweet time. Any reason why?” He had breathed, trying to focus his mind on something else. And not the sweetness of your fingertips drawing honey out of his very being.

“I can't help but be thorough. ” Your lips quirked up, repeating the same exact words he had reasoned moments prior. And he held back a dry chuckle. Feeling the sudden way you had pressed firmly on a particular spot that had him flinching. “Don't tell me you're ticklish Vice Captain?”

And he sighs. Shoulders tense as your hand traces upward, back unto the nape of his neck, where his hair had met his skin.

“Ticklish is probably not the word I'd use. But let's go with that.” He spoke in a lower octave than he intended. And that voice of his felt a little strained. Making you smile, enjoying his scrutiny just for a little bit. His small twitches are something you hadn't expected from him at all. And it was nice trying to peel off layers of things you had never seen Soshiro in before. And you had a feeling that only you had been blessed to witness such discrepancies of that perfect expression on his face.

It was beginning to crack because of your touches.

You had turned back to face his front, hands placed against the swell of his waist. Which was sturdier than she thought. “Does it hurt when I press here?”

“No.”

“And here?” You had moved your hand to slide up onto a layer of plating on his chest. And you hear the way his soft sighs had turned a little shakier than normal. His hands immediately reaching to grab your wrist before it could move up further his neck, where his skin disappeared under the suit.

“...No”

“Ya’ know, why do I get the feeling that this suit isn't broken at all?” He looks you in the eyes. That smirk of his had been riddled with a new expression. As if he had just been provoked in some way.

“Maybe because it isn't?” A sweet smile etched on your lips made him chuckle. A small hum of disapproval had made it clear in his tone.

“I worry that you put so much faith in me.”

His voice had been all but a whisper this time. A deep rumble that had shot straight through her ear and neck as he took careful steps in front of her. Walking forwards as you take adequate steps baback. Until eventually, the back of your waist hits the surface of the small desk. Effectively allowing him to cage you in when his hands had grabbed the surface of the table beside your hips.

It was spacious enough for you to pull away. Should you want that. But as usual, you had only leaned forward. Open to his advances that you had once witnessed before. In fact letting him do as he pleased since you had rightfully poked the places you knew that would get him riled up. And despite that steady smile on his face, she could see how his lips form a thin line. A crack on his usual facade that she wanted to see more and more as days passed by.

“You should be careful when you're handlin’ me alone like this.”

“Why is that?” You tilt your head. And amusement flashes by his face.

“Because with or without the suit. Touchin’ me that way could lead me to do a lot of things to you.” He spoke softly, moving his lips much closer to your ear.

And although your breath had caught on from your throat. You only move in to press your cheek against his. “Things like?”

Soshiro chuckles. Leaning down to brush his lips against your jaw. The fan of his breath makes your heart pound against your ribcage. “You're playing a very dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“Well I won't know if you don't tell me.” you replied back. Likely a challenge to Soshiro's own words. Not at all rejecting his advances.

“I'd rather show ya’ instead.” He smiles.

And without as much as a thought to hesitate, his hand moved automatically. Already moving to cup your cheek with the warmth of his gloved palm. His eyes closed as your lips clashed against his. Sweet as it may. It had a slight hint of deviance in its movements. And you feel the steady bite of his teeth pulling at your bottom lip before it returns to bruising those pretty lips of yours. A warning perhaps that indicated more to come if she kept pushing him over the edge like that.

You shuddered. Moving closer to reciprocate his kisses. Hands already moving from his shoulders to his neck, nails gently raking to the back of his head. Feeling the soft stubble of his purple hair. Softer than she had initially thought they would feel.

Your chest heaved as he pulled away. Drawing a breathless sigh from you, as if he himself sucked all the breath out from that kiss alone. And it leaves your cheeks heated. Leaning against him to balance yourself with paced inhales that made you feel the pounding of your heart ringing in your ears.

Soshiro couldn't help but admire the state he put you in. His hands moved to grab your waist to let you lean against him if you wanted to. And he couldn't help but move his lips down to the crook of your neck. Pressing light kisses on your pulse that he had assumed had been working hard at keeping you breathing for him. A silent apology for leaving you in such a state.

“That satisfy your curiosity?” He mumbled, and you could feel the smile on his lips against your skin. Closing your eyes as you received his oddly uncharacteristic gesture.

A gesture you had understood despite it not being addressed. You were used to his off behavior. More so when he refused to elaborate on certain things you know he's speaking through his actions. And that was enough for now.

You didn't need to understand everything. Just the things that matter. Just the things he wants you to know right now. And his kisses had been enough to convey that thought. Your reply had not hesitated when you wrapped him into a tight embrace.

“Very.” And you had a feeling that he was willing to show you more, if you let him.

And that had been enough for you. Even if he never was good with his words.

[avelera]

Was thinking about how Hob and Dream could both be insufferable in some way because, in fairness, Hob comes across as someone who could make friends with bread if left in a room with it long enough.

Then I had a thought:

What if Hob Gadling is just super fucking insufferable to other immortals?

See, Dream is... difficult for mortals to get because he's got his whole eldritch thing going on. But while he's not particularly popular with them, I imagine other immortals at least get and respect his whole deal. Like, he's the Dreamlord. Of course he's weird. But they understand the laws and principles he's referring to at least when he's being weird. He seems to at least have a pleasant relationship with the Faerie Court. It's mortals who can't really connect with Dream and find him exasperating as a result.

Whereas Hob gets along great with mortals, just swell. He's Just A Guy who happens to live forever and people get along with him. But immortals? We don't really see it much but immortals positively loathe this guy.

Dream's reaction to the whole, "I've made up my mind, I've decided not to die!"? Hob tossed out in 1389? That's the teeth-grinding level of irritation Hob engenders in every immortal he comes across (before they have centuries to get to know him) and it is exactly why Death just had to make this man immortal because it would be hilarious.

Why doesn't Hob hang out with other immortals besides Dream? Because the minute he opens his mouth about how great life is and how he's never had even a moment's doubt about how much he wants to live, every immortal in the room starts to make the gagging motion.

You're an immortal just trying to have a bit of a kvetch about Kids These Days and how much times have changed and how it was better in your day, and there's Hob fucking Gadling again ready to throw down about how amazing antibiotics and automobiles and the latest iPhone number whatever are and like, sure, but you were just trying to say back in your day things were better, right? Not objectively maybe but you're just trying to indulge in a bit of immortal nostalgia and Hob fucking Gadling is not having any of it and is ready to argue you into the dirt about it.

You're immortal but haven't quite kept up on today's slang? Hob Gadling will absolutely call you out and he's a teacher now so he's going to be super nice about it but you know he's judging you for saying groovy unironically and thinks you should get with the times already.

You're a vampire living off centuries of generational wealth? Hob keeps talking about how you should get a job and get out of the spooky mansion more, and maybe you wouldn't feel so much existential angst. You like your existential angst!

Hob doesn't have a single ounce of patience for immortals who want to wax poetic about wishing they were mortal again. Diseases, he says, have you ever had diseases? Like even a cold? It sucks. It really fucking sucks. The Plague? The fucking worst. You don't need to be mortal to get involved in mortal life, Hob fucking Gadling keeps pointing out at the monthly eldritch coffee meetups. You can just live as a mortal and share in their problems and enjoy the fact you don't have to deal with the shit parts like getting sick. Completely missing the point of the futile lamentation of regretting one's lost mortality is something you enjoy.

Hob harshes the vibe of every single immortal out there. They are so goddamn sick of him. There's a reason he has no apparent immortal friends or connections to the supernatural world despite (in the comics) seeming to have met other immortals and having the occasional supernatural encounter that he immediately brushes off as dull when compared to what the normal, every day world has to offer.

No other immortal can fucking figure out what Dream of the Endless sees in this guy, and how he can stand to talk to him even once a century without storming off (which, in fairness, Dream has done on 2/7 occasions). Dream, not otherwise known for his patience, is seen as a saint in the eldritch community for even spending as much time as he has over the course of 600+ years with Hob fucking Gadling.

[shamixlour]

The Bear - 3x10

This scene was a masterpiece and obviously horrendously tragic at the same time and that for multiple reasons. 

For a little context, we're at EVER restaurant, funeral diner, everyone is having lots of fun and we get a glimpse of Sydney in the middle of her peers. She fits perfectly in, participates in the conversations, entertains and definitely grasps the heart of the people around the table AND YET you have Carmy totally absent. He is the one who invited her and he is not present, he is not here. Instead, he keeps staring down at his old chef two tables away. He keeps staring, dissociates himself completely from his environment and doesn’t interact at all with his old cuisine acquaintances. At first, no one really pays attention or at least you are pushed to think so until Luca asks him if he’s okay and remarks that Carmys is staring. Sydney finds an opportunity in this to ask herself and note that he is indeed staring and wonders who he is staring at. Carmy, eyes still locked on the Chef David Fields from Empire tells them and this is the only moment he interacts with the people around him. Right then and he starts painting the Chef’s portrait to Luca and Sydney.

Carmy : He's the fucking worst and one of the best Chefs in the world. Luca: Well, he used to be one of the best chefs in the world. Carmy: Total prick. Fuckface. The bastard made me very, probably mentally ill. Dead inside. Cold. Never turns it off. Accomplishes more by 10am than most people do in a lifetime. Sydney: "looks over Carmy gravely" Carmy: I don't think he sleeps. I don't think he eats. I don't think he loves. He hates black pepper for some reason I will never understand and he is getting up. Luca: Carm. Carmy. Sydney: Carm. Carmen.

The thing is, each word Carmy uses to define that Chef Fields is, imho, just another adjective to describe who Carmy is as a Chef himself.

I hated that moment. I did not like hearing him describe that man because with each syllables that split through his mouth, I realised that the person Carmy was supposedly describing, that horrible, vicious, toxic, controlling and overly awful Chef that had no heart, no empathy, no source of humanity left in him and destroyed him was in fact Carmy himself.

I felt like he was describing himself and it broke my heart because truly, what he showed of himself in the Bear’s kitchen this season 3 was just that. 

A cold, controlling, harsh and judgmental Chef. 

Someone that would not hesitate to crumble the ounce of confidence left in you (poor Tina) if you don’t meet his standard. Someone who would not respect you if you don’t reach his fucking stupid non negotiables. Someone who would say snarky comments at you, sometimes full of disdain and haughty, implying that he is better than you. 

That is because I am better than you. That is because I have more skills. That is because you’re not good enough, you’re not excellent enough, you are not like me.

Carmy said shouted that to everyone throughout season 3. He did not care and that regardless of the history between them, regardless of the obvious efforts of the past, of the growth of each person in that kicthen. He did not give a single fuck of the looks of panic, of the shaking voice of Tina, of the dead glare of Sydney, of the feelings of distress.

No, Carmy was cold.  He was just cold. A total prick. A fuckface. Demanding. Hard. Full of himself despite his failures. Arrogant and condescending. Ready to crush you mentally if you don't meet his expectations. He did not care. He did not sleep. He did not love.

That was Carmy of season 3 and I hated it.

I despised hearing him describe that Chef, watching him stand up and run after that man to tell him fuck you when Carmy became exactly fucking THAT. It was so tragic and sad and SO fucking hypocritical at the same time and I fear that Carmy was slightly aware, deep down within him. He knows what that man says to him is true, maybe he even knows the monster he described to Syd and Luca was himself and maybe that is why he cries in that corridor because Chef Fields confirms that to him in a way.

I made you excellent. I made you. You became me. One of the best chefs in the world. We are the same so you are welcome.

Carmy was okay. He left excellent but at what price?

-

I also wanna point out something during Carmy's depreciating monologue regarding Chef Fields. Not only Sydney stared at him gravely all along, the words resonating maybe a bit too much but also Luca said something I found interesting.

He said "well, he used to be one of the best chefs in the world." and I could not dissociate this from Carmy himself, from him maybe not being one of the best chefs in the world either if he continues like that, if he doesn't step away from the Chef he is now, if he doesn't go back to a track where he wants to get better, where he listens, teach and love and eat and sleeps and is alive.

-

If you read all of this, heart on you <3 let me know your thoughts, future meta about ep 3 is coming soon hehe~

[pupyuj]

[cw: smut, g!p, throatfucking, breeding.]

OKAY... you and g!p yujin hating each other's guts but being co-captains in the volleyball team 😳 forgetting all about your rivalry once you're in the court, making the two of you unstoppable... but one day, your team loses an important match and you and yujin just lose it. once the locker room was empty, you're screaming, blaming each other, and it even escalates to pushing and shoving...

but then you end up crying because you got too emotional, and the loss really sinks in and you're berating yujin about it even more, saying it was all her fault, that she wasn't a good captain, that she let the team down especially you because you trusted that she would lead the team to victory with you. of course yujin gets super fucking pissed because how dare you??? and when you thought she was going to go off on you and maybe even hurt you, she just,,, grabs your face and kisses you roughly 😩😵‍💫

your instinct was to push yujin away, but then you felt her hard cock poking at your thigh so you just said fuck it and allowed her to touch you everywhere.

😵‍💫 LIKE angry yujinnie manhandling you 🫣🫣 turning you around, pushing you against the wall, pulling your shorts down and slamming her dick inside you 🤭 not at all caring if there were people outside the locker room that could hear the two of you... nobody disses ahn yujin and gets away with it, especially you. you're nothing to her, she doesn't even respect you as a co-captain. you were a fucking toy to her, free to use however she'd like.

and the worst part? you're liking this side of yujin.

“fucking try saying that shit to me again, whore,” while she's pumping in and out of your mouth at an insane pace, barely letting you breathe. she doesn't care that you're gagging on her thick cock, or wincing when she digs her nails into your scalp because the look of pleasure in your eyes tells her one thing: you're so fucking into this.

her cumming inside your mouth and pulling out, glaring down at you while you swallow every single drop. did it make you look lesser than her? yeah. did that hurt your pride as a fellow captain? a lot. but you wanted nothing more than to get fucked out of your mind and forget that stupid fucking match ever happened.

🫠 yujin holding you up using her strong arms while your legs are wrapped around her waist, and she's ramming her dick inside your dripping hole 😩😩 both of your moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin the only things being heard in the locker room.

“i... mmph..! i fucking—god—hate you... and f-finally.. ahh... i get to put you in your fucking place...” she's saying while deepening her thrusts, making sure to hit every spot that had your mind reeling.

“fuck you, yujin... mmh... m-more!” you're moaning in her ear while tugging a fistful of her hair.

“you don't tell me what to do..” but she's quickening her pace, eager to cum again but this time inside your cunt. she hears your moans getting higher. “you get off to this, don't you?? being used by your rival, by me.. you're nothing but a slut, aren't you..?”

you absentmindedly agree with her, nodding your head and everything. “i am, i am..! use me, yujin-ah... j-just ruin me...” you've thrown away your dignity and any ounce of that ego you had... all you wanted was to cum, and for yujin to breed you...

luckily for you, that's all she cared about too. she's pumping in and out of you even harder, if that was even possible, in pursuit of her release. eventually, your walls clenched around yujin's cock and she feels it. suddenly, she's cumming inside you — emptying her balls inside your cunt while you're squirting on her dick. her load filled you up lots, the warm feeling in your abdomen making you moan in bliss..

somehow, you managed to stand on your sore and shaky legs.. but yujin was there to keep you steady too. you couldn't help but kiss her — her lips were addicting, after all. when you pulled away, yujin still had the same dark look in her eyes: full of lust, irritation, and hate for you. but she was wearing a small smile, “let's get cleaned up... in the shower.” she was saying, making your heart skip several beats because when you looked down, you noticed that her cock was still very, very hard...

you were going to talk about that match and possibly sort out your differences at a later time... but one thing was for sure, you're going home with her.

ack.. i did not mean for this to go on for so long but g!p rival!yujin was driving me crazyyy... i blame kitsch for this!

[green28go]

Butterflies.

What an unpleasant day, Magnus thought as he sat in his apothecary and stared at vast nothingness despite having demonology books on the study table. Alexander was not back yet. No, the whole truth is that Alexander, who was angry with him, had left in the morning at nine past and was still not back. It’s 4 pm now, and since his boyfriend left their home, his mind constantly circled back to the fight they had in the morning. It was awful and really loud—the argument. It had been about the immortality issue once again and this was their first big argument after they got back together since the Camille debacle. This time he had really pushed Alec’s buttons which he’d never willingly do. And Alec, by the look on his face, could understand that his boyfriend’s resolve broke and was seconds away from slamming the door, right on his face. From then, up until now, he sat worrying about him. He’d wanted to do nothing more than to look into the bright blue eyes and tell how sorry he was and that he did not mean a single syllable that he had uttered at that moment, he knew that Alec required space and he respected that, but now, his mind starts to worry and he glances at his phone if he’d received any text from Alec but feels dejected as there is no sign of what he is looking for.

He gets an idea that he deems fitting as an apology to the Archer for the way things ended between them in the morning. So, he summons a small stack of Clairefontaine Triomphe writing papers and, writes a short and sweet letter for Alec.

Dear Alexander,

                            I apologize for my suboptimal behavior earlier this day and would want nothing more than to tell you by holding your hand that I did not mean an ounce of what I said in the moment of heat. Believe me, love, when I say that you are indeed the best thing that happened to me in decades. Now, if you will come home, to me, I would gladly curl up with you on the couch and kiss you till the daybreak.

Love, Magnus.

He perfumed the letter with sandalwood, of course, what else would he use, and performed his little trick that sent the letter, converted into a fire message, flying out of the room to his Alec, in the form of a butterfly. He watched as it left the room swiftly and started waiting patiently for Alec to reply.

He waited and waited. Ten minutes turned into thirty and that turned into an hour and a half.

No reply, not a single word through any means from Alec. He was not on a mission or on patrol as Alec would always ensure he informed him beforehand. So, he must either be in the Institute or with the Alliance. Magnus has a half mind to track him but he resorts to calling Isabelle instead.

“Hello, my favorite compatriot from Brooklyn!”  

“You don’t really know many people in Brooklyn,” he replied.

“Of course, I do, like your boyfriend who lives with you,” he is amused at Isabelle’s reply.

“And pray tell, why is your brother not your favorite?” he asked.

“Because he is in a grumpy mode and had already snapped at me once and twice at Jace,” she answered.

He is indisputably aware of the grumpiness in his boyfriend and it is his job to make it go away. Just when he was about to inquire about what Alec was doing, Isabelle pondered a question towards him.

“Magnus, does it have to be something to do with you?” she asked.

His reply was easy. Silence.

“By the angel, should’ve already known it was you, I thought it had something to do with mindless Shadowhunters who are refusing to cooperate with the Alliance,” she said again, more like realized.

“Is he in your line of sight, dear Isabelle?” he asked her.

“Yes, we are in the training room and he is staring at a piece of paper with his signature “I’m unimpressed,” look,” she said.

What Isabelle said only meant one thing. Alec is nonchalant about his apology, not impressive enough, so he’ll just strengthen his strategy to woo Alec through his cher-courrier.

“Thank you, Isabelle, now I have to make it up to your brother,” he said with determination.

“I know you will, Magnus,” she said leaving the call.

Now, he took the writing paper and started expressing his love for Alec, molded into an apology in the form of words.

Dear Alexander,

                         I once again stand here to tell you how sorry I am for what happened in the morning. Darling, you are exqui………………….

He filled the entire letter with his adoration for his loving Shadowhunter and, transformed it into a butterfly, scented it, and sent it flying towards the Institute.

He waited for forty-five minutes and when nothing came his way from his beloved, he took the feather into his hand and started writing again. Maybe the letter was quite a bit. So, he tried again.

My Dearest Alec…………….

No answer. He tried again.

I truly am remorseful……….

Nothing from his boyfriend. He wrote afresh with a different ink.

I want to hold you……………

None. No reply. He was reluctant to give up. He sprinkled glitter in the letter and sent it Alec’s way.

Sweetheart, I love you………

Nope, not a singular word from Alec. So, he dipped the feather in the black ink and started.

Alexander, talk to me……....

He was exhausted, not because of expressing his affection and fondness for Alec but because of having his beloved not give an expression for what he was saying. The silence was absolute torture and now it turned into anger.

Come on, this is not fair………

He wrote, and waited. The answer became obvious when he held the feather again.

He was feeling what was a huge amount of sadness, hurt, and a bit of anger and decided that this was his last letter and he was going to the Institute, once the reply from Alec resembled his previous replies.

Come home, Alexander, I’m sorry………

He sent it and waited. It was almost 10 ‘o'clock and he seriously questioned his boyfriend’s stubbornness in not wanting to speak with him and ghosting him. Was this how Alec felt during the time of their break up? He remembered how sorry Alec was and how frustrated he got in a certain voicemail. He had listened to all of them, a part of him at that time hoped that he’d preserve those voicemails if Alec never wanted to get back together with him. But that was an obstacle that they had overcome, together.

He didn’t make an effort to dress himself ever-so-enticingly as far as his fashion sense goes. He was worn out and missed having Alec by his side. The only energy he has is required to open up a portal directly to the Institute and he did that.

He was at the back of the Institute and walked, without a single thought on his mind, into the place, as he no longer required anybody to escort him. He found Jace in the corridors and Jace, who must’ve either sensed it or found it from Isabelle, had simply mouthed at him that said training room.

He strode towards the place with quietude, careful not to show his wretched worry.

There was his Alexander, his back facing him and his position upright. He was holding the bow and arrow, aiming towards the target with the proficiency that can only be achieved by vigorous training. He cleared his throat to draw the attention of his boyfriend.

Alec didn’t turn toward him and just spoke in a tone that indicated detachment and coldness. If he was surprised by his presence, he did very well not showing it.

“What do you want?”

Oh no. That angered him. After all those apologies and letters and his obvious efforts, Alec just did not do that.

“What do I want? What exactly do you want Alec?” He said with a clear indication of how furious he was.

“Nothing,” Alec stated, not moving an inch.

“Why are you being so uncompromising?” He said, his voice weary.

“You mean difficult,” Alec answered, finally turning towards him.

“No, I didn’t say that,” He immediately responded. Alec looked like someone who hadn’t been sleeping for two days and he could notice the bruises on the archer’s hands.

“But you meant it,” Alec quietly voiced his opinion.

“You’re never difficult to be with, Alexander,” He uttered in a soft voice.

Alec didn’t respond to that, he was just standing there, with his eyes looking anywhere except at the person in front of him.

“I’ve apologized so many times, Alec, and I-” he started but was cut short.

“Wait, when did you apologize?” Alec asked him, clearly confused.

“Seriously Alexander,” He said, looking every bit unimpressed.

“Magnus, You didn’t apologize at all, today,” Alec finished.

“I did,”

“In your dreams, I suppose,” Alec muttered.

“Alexander,” he retorted.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,”

“What did you even read in those letters, Alec?”

“What letters?”

“The letters that I sent you,” he exclaimed.

“I did not receive a single letter from anybody today, the Institute mailbox is empty,” Alec declined.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, now you don’t think I am telling the truth, fantastic, what else is new?” The bitterness in his voice was evidently clear.

“Alec, will you just stop, I am trying to make things right between us,”

“So, you think I am not?”

“For Lilith’s sake, I don’t see you doing that,” He said, frustrated.

“Magnus, if you are really here to pick fights with me I-”

“My purpose of being here is not that, but I highly suppose you are the one who is trying to do it,”

Just when Alec was about to remark, they were interrupted by footsteps making their way toward the Institute. So, they naturally fell quiet. It was Clary, and she was carrying a strange cage in her hand.

“Hey, are you guys okay?” she inquired.

They nodded.

“Magnus, I’m here to ask if these belong to you,” she pointed to the box she was holding. Now, it became distinct to him what was in it—his letters—all of them. Their wings were fluttering, and those butterfly-shaped letters were trying to get out of the cage.

“They’re sparkling and have a natural glimmer of your magic, so I brought them to you,” she said, holding them out.

“Yes, they belong to me, and how did you get them? " He said, taking the cage into his hands.

“Oh, the new group of Shadowhunters from Geneva caught them, they are still waiting for more in the entrance,” she answered.

He’d take care of them tomorrow but for now, his priority is Alec and giving him these letters.

 “Thank you, biscuit. You truly helped me a lot today,” he said with a breath of relief and gratitude toward the redhead.

“You’re welcome and good night, the both of you,” she left with a smile on her face.

He looked at Alec, who was looking at the cage in his hand. There was no anger, only mild irritation mostly masked by curiosity.

“All right, brace yourself, Alexander,” he said, hoping Alec would like what he had done.

He opened the cage and the letters went flying toward Alec, landing on Alec, forming a half-silhouette of the Shadowhunter.

“Magnus, what are these?” Alec asked not moving an inch and holding still so as not to disturb those little inanimate letters.

“Pick one and read,” he instructed his boyfriend gently.

Alec did as he was told. He watched as his eyes skimmed over the letter swiftly, the expression on his face changing, his gaze softening and a small smile forming on his angelic face.

Alec looked at him and asked.

“Are all these letters, apologies?”

“Yes, they are,”

“Why so many?”

“You were not responding so I-”

“I forgive you,” Alec didn’t blurt it out but had said it calmly.

“You didn’t read all of them,” he said.

“I will but to forgive you, you are enough,”

Alec uttered those words with such sincerity that it made him want to reach out to the Archer and wrap him in the warmest hug. But he didn’t.

“I do not mean anything I’ve said this morning, I’m sorry-” he started instead.

“Magnus, I know,” Alec told him gently.

“So, you already forgave me?”

“Of course, I did,”

“But, you didn’t say so,” he said in a quiet tone.

“Because I wanted to know,” Alec hesitated. “I wanted to know if you’d reach out to me before I’d do it,” Alec whispered.

He moved towards Alec.

“Oh, Alexander,” He cupped Alec’s face in his hands and gently tugged at his face so that the Shadowhunter would look at him. The butterflies on Alec's body stayed where they were, only fluttering a little.

“Of course, I would reach out to you,”

“I know, it’s a stupid doubt to have-” Alec mumbled but he cut him off in the middle.

“Of course it’s not sweetheart, I’m sorry that I gave you the implication that I’d never come to you first and that you had to doubt me about it,” he softly said those words, meaning every monosyllable.

Alec looked at him with adoration and in a heartbeat, kissed him. The butterflies came to life when their lips touched and then again settled on Alec.

The kiss was soft, nothing passionate but rather it was a slow one, one that is full of love and familiarity. Their hands wrapped themselves around each other.

When they finally broke the kiss but, didn’t break away from the embrace, Magnus bent his head forward and a bit downward, his forehead touched Alec’s.

“I’ll try to do better,” he said gently. A soft smile spread across Alec’s face.

“So will I,” Alec uttered with reverence.

It was a promise from both of them. They smiled into their kiss once again.

[chamiryokuroi]

A few weeks ago I answered a question where I called Israel as Isnotreal, someone kindly asked me to not use that because it was disrespectful to jewish people, at the time I agreed and edited my post.

I want to take it back.

Fuck Isnotreal, they are not deserving of a single ounce of respect, they’re not real, it is not a real place, and if I am forced to speak about it I will first call it what it truly is, Palestine, because Isnotreal? Yeah that doesn’t exist, that’s just colonizer genocidal bullshit, it’s Palestine, it will always be Palestine, and Isnotreal supporters can suck my dick.

[serial-killers-hope]

ronin w/ a transmasc mc whos feeling dysphoric ... if possible ....

Your wish is my command. ~ DP

If he saw you like this… what would he say?

He knows you, all too well after all.

CW / TW :

- Gender Dysphoria

- Threatening ( Not to you and it’s a one time mention )

Enjoy.

Why Cry Over Spilled Milk?

You hear quiet grunts escape from the hallway, noting mentally who had come home. God, out of all the times… now was probably the worst. It made you dread when he came into the house in all honesty, you didn’t want to make him worry ( even if he made you worry more than he did for you ) over some trivial thing like this. Especially something you went through almost on a daily.

“Hey, you in ‘ere?”

The door is knocked upon by the devil himself. His eyes peeking through the crack as he noted where you sat. On the floor, in front of a mirror with scissors in your hand and hair strewn about.

It didn’t take a genius for Ronin to know how you were feeling, he knew when your hair got too long or your binder didn’t feel right that you’d feel dysphoric. So he did what any lover would do and stepped in. Closing the door behind him with a quiet click and a swift maneuver over to you.

“What’s wrong darlin’?… Bad day?”

You didn’t even speak, your gaze only falling down to the ground with a curt nod. It made his usual expression twitch a bit as he planted himself beside you, pulling you close to his chest with a quiet whistle.

“Why’d you cut your hair? Too long…? Or…?”

You hesitate for a second, shaking your head. Your voice came out, obvious that you were trying to sound more “masculine” as a way to comfort yourself.

“Just people. I was working and someone commented on it being too long for a guy… stupid I know.”

Ronin’s eye twitched a bit. His arms wrapped around your body with his head resting on your head with a soft shush of his voice. You could feel his gaze; cold and dark, on your hair. But it wasn’t with malice or hate… at least not towards you.

“I’ll kill ‘em if you want. ‘S nothing…”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him with a slight pout, shaking your head as you cling onto him for the contact and warmth that this demon of a man exuded.

“Please… just stay. I don’t… I don’t feel like who I wanna feel like. It’s like my body decided to do a one eighty and mentally damage every single ounce of respect I had for myself.”

You grumble in frustration, you could feel your eyes well in tears as he cradled the back of your head. Ronin’s eyes narrowed to you as he nodded in full understanding while he adjusted and let his lips graze your forehead as he whispered towards you.

“But you are who you are. No one makes you yourself but you, alright? Besides, who are they to tell you what you should look like? You’re the angel on my shoulder, my muse in a way. Isn’t that somethin’?”

You chuckled a bit, nodding as you pulled away and laid your head against his chest to listen in on his heartbeat. It was a strange comfort to know he wasn’t an actual demon who was trying to get your head on a stake.

“And, you’re a man. Forever, through and through. They don’t define you. Your traits don’t define you, your past, your name, nothing defines you but the brain in your head and the aorta I laid my claim on months ago.”

You snicker a bit at the reference he had made, all seven ( now teetering eight ) months… done and dusted. It was a graceful speech you knew he had ( even when he had suggested he’d take up writing ), although it probably was not the best moment. You’d thank him for that one day.

Ronin tilts your chin upwards to face him. Your eyes glued to his infinite darkness.

“I love you, nothin’ no one can do about it. You’re my boyfriend. Through and through.”

You smile slightly, tears now forcing their way out and rolling down your cheeks. You murmured a thank you as he nods and presses a soft and gentle kiss against your lips. He was warm and comforting, some devil who had an appetite for bloodshed he was…

And he loved you. Just for being you.

[emswritingsstuff]

Hiii, can u do something with Tara Chambler x reader, where fem!reader lost a very dear family member (whichever you prefer) driving her into depression. One night Tara finds reader crying about that situation alone and she comforts her? something angsty ending in fluff. please & thanks!! love you 🤍

(its fine if you cannot write it soon, take your time!! im a writer too and i know how the pressure feels. don't worry about it!! <3)

Heart to Heart (Tara Chambler x Fem! Reader)

--

warnings: obsessive compulsive themes (washing hands, only in the first portion) and themes of grief/ depression

note: baby's first tara fic!! yay!!

WC: 1.6k

--

Lukewarm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed and scrubbed. Just needing to feel your hands clean. The night had been long, basically restless. You couldn’t shake the memory of the previous night. 

A herd had gotten into Alexandria, somehow getting through the walls and gate. Even with everyone trying to fight it off as best they could, some didn’t make it. Including your sister, her getting bit in the process of fighting. Amputation wasn’t an option, she was doomed. Most of what had happened felt like a blur but also so clear. It almost wasn’t real in your mind. But the silence in your shared home was proof of the harsh reality you had to face. 

All you saw when looking at your hands was her blood, trying to keep her from bleeding out, and eventually from not letting her turn. It was like your hands were permanently stained with her blood, nothing you could do could get rid of it. 

When the pain of the scrubbing set in, you had a hard stop. Instantly pulling away from the water and turning it off. Drying off your hands, you felt nothing but numb. Just staring off and mindlessly finishing up at the sink.

Begrudgingly you had made your way to your bedroom, walking past all the memories that were scattered around the house. All happy memories tainted with the fact she was gone, forever. You couldn’t even look at her bedroom door without tears threatening to fall. Everything had just started to become too much. 

Once reaching your room, you’d just laid there, not moving. Just not wanting to think. 

Time ticked away and away. The morning sun eventually peeking through the curtains in your small room. It was blinding after getting used to the darkness, but also your alarm to get up and ready. 

The Alexandrians had planned a small service for the lives lost in the herd. Part of you didn’t want to even go, but you had to. For her, at least. Getting ready and leaving felt like a massive chore. Looking at yourself in the mirror you could see it on your face the lack of sleep was obvious. You were upset at how obvious the grief was, but there was nothing you could do. After deeming yourself as presentable as you can get, you headed out toward the church. 

Walking there felt heavy, each step adding more and more weight onto you. When you reached the church, a few people were already there. Keeping your distance, you stood away from all the groups, not wanting to hear what they had to say. 

It was always the same old shit, the same thing you would hear in the old world. The basic “they’re in a happier place” or “they wouldn’t want you to be sad” being said without a single ounce of understanding. Just saying something to say something. You didn’t want to hear it, especially when it would make your anger and sadness worse. 

As more people kept filing in, you could feel the glares and stares from the community. Shortly after more people showed up, Gabriel had started the makeshift service. It was nice, something sort of casual but personal. Gabriel opened the floor to everyone; families and friends spoke about those that passed. But you didn’t say anything, and you probably should’ve. You could feel the judgmental glares when you didn’t speak, but everything in your body made you stay there. Stay quiet. 

The service was over soon enough, everyone leaving to do their respective work and chores. As soon as you could get out, you could. As you made the beeline to your home, the sound of heavy boots became louder, someone was running up behind you. Immediately looking behind you, all you were met with was Tara slowing down as she caught up with you. With a puzzled look on your face, you just kept walking, letting her walk with you. 

The walk was hushed but it was oddly comforting in a way. You could tell she wanted to say something, it was obvious on her face. But she was quiet, seemingly leaving it up to you if you wanted to talk to her or not. 

Finally reaching your home, you started to climb the short stairs before Tara reached out to grab your wrist. Shooting a look back, you softly pulled away and paused on the stairs. Tara became visibly panicked and started to speak, “Sorry I didn’t mean to grab you like that, just wanted to talk.” Nodding silently, you looked at her with crossed arms, waiting for her to continue. 

Nodding back, Tara reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out small candies. Holding them in her hand she held them out to you, offering them up. “Found them in the pantry, figured sweet treats aways help,” she smiled softly at you. Looking at her and looking at the candies, you took them. “Thanks, appreciate it,” giving a weak smile back, you turned to leave. But she stopped you again. 

“Also wanted to say, I know what it's like, losing a sister you know. Losing sister like that,” Tara then stopped talking, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Sorry, I just wanted to let you know I understand your pain. I’m here if you want to talk about it.” Your glance softened and tears threatened to spill as she opened up to you. And offered help, something you really weren’t expecting. 

“Thank you, means a lot Tara. I’ll keep that in mind,” Tara smiled at you, and probably to herself. “No problem,” she put up her fist for a fist bump before instantly putting it down. She apologized hastily thinking she did something wrong, but you shook your head laughing lightly. Grabbing her arm, you put the fist back up and bumped it. “Seals the deal,” you said, giving her another weak smile as you separated and walked into your home. At last, you were in your home, and finally all the previous emotions came back. Setting the candy Tara gave you into a small bowl, you immediately retreated back into your bedroom. Just letting the bed consume you and trap you there. 

The upcoming days had become foggy, not knowing what time it was or what was going on within Alexandria. You hadn’t left the house in a few days; you knew it was self-destructive. You knew it was getting bad, but nothing could really make you leave. Even if you wanted to. Everything would’ve just been too overwhelming and scary, also just getting out of bed seemed like too much work. 

One night everything got particularly rough, all the memories with your sister coming back. All the good times you missed so much playing through your head, only to be interrupted with the memory of burying her. Trying to think of something to do, you tried washing the dishes that had been piling up in the sink. 

As you scrubbed the dishes you sobbed, you just wanted to forget anything ever happened. The water was lukewarm once more, the scrubbing remaining consistent. You were there for a while before you heard a soft but quick knock at your door. Coming back to reality, you dried your hands off and stuffed them in your pocket. Trying to create a confident aura around you.

Opening the door slowly, you peaked out only to be met with Tara. Her worried expression only grew more when she saw how bloodshot your eyes were. You weren’t even sure how long you had been crying yourself, but you knew it was probably a long time. Tara took in a quick breath and started to speak, “haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried.” Inhaling deeply, you shrugged, hands still stuffed in your pocket. You refused to make eye contact, embarrassed you had gotten to his point. 

Glancing at Tara, she had a soft look on her face. Just purely looking worried. Her hand was fiddling with the zipper of her jacket as she prepared to speak again. “Can I keep you company? I want to make sure you’re okay,” you were reluctant at first. Not quite sure about it, but this could be a good start to healing. You agreed to let her in and walked back into your home, her just following behind. 

Gesturing your couch, you sat down with her right beside you. Tara sat comfortably while you curled into yourself just staring off. It wasn’t long before the tears had started again. Tara just took you into her arms and you instantly latched onto her. Holding onto her for dear life, like if you were to let go, she would disappear. After separating from her she brought her sleeve up to your face and wiped your eyes. 

Once you calmed down enough, she started to speak to you softly. “You don’t have to talk about it, and I won’t force you too. But I will be here if you ever want to talk. It will get better, just takes time.” Her soft hand held your face as you looked into her eyes. You gave her a weak nod. Softly smiling, she brought your head down to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. 

Hiding your face in her neck, she just held you there. Her hands were rubbing soft circles into your back, comforting you. Tara took in a breath, “I can stay here all night if you want me too.” Not wanting to detach from her, you just nodded ‘yes’ into her neck. A soft laugh left her lips, and she held you tighter. “Then I’ll stay.”