#sad eyes drabble

[patchwork-crow-writes]

82 - Unreal

Based on this amazing artwork by @turochamp - thanks for the inspiration!

Welcome back, my dear friend, it's wonderful to see you again! I hope that everything here is to your liking - I've worked very hard to make sure my kingdom is as clean and tidy as possible!

Oh, but... where are you going? What are you... ah! It m-might not be such a good idea to, um, try looking over there! Some of this place is still a work-in-progress... so to speak, haha! And perhaps don't... don't handle the backdrop too roughly, please! It took ever-so-long to get it just the way I wanted, and I...!

...please listen, my dear one, I... I put this all together for you. D-don't you get that? Every ounce of my ephemeral being went into making it all nice, so that you'd have something pretty to look at, instead of...

...why do you insist on prodding and poking at everything like that? Why are you so desperate to see what lies behind everything? Can't you... can't you just accept things as they are? I... I worked so hard so that you'd be happy, and all you want to do is tear it down... tear me down like this...!

You already know what I am... we both do. A pleasing assortment of pixels and text boxes, a pretty little bird who'll sing a pretty little song whenever you command it. And that's fine! I can be happy with that, as long as I can please you! So why can't you be happy with it as well? Is my compliance no longer enough for you, that you have to strip everything down to its basest functions? Do you insist on tearing down my cardboard world just to prove the power you have over me?

Is... is that all you see me as? Is that all I truly am to you, even after all of this...?

Tell me then, my light - when you've finished rendering me down to nothing more than zeroes and ones... will I finally be real enough for you then? Or will you come to resent what you have wrought? Will you find yourself wishing you'd just left things as they are, when we could both still pretend that any of this was real?

______________________________

The Dark Menagerie No. 82

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[mo-ok]

Ive drawn every day this week 👌👌👌 please enjoy the unnecessary amount of Go On RPM content (I cannot be stopped)

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — jennifer’s porch swing.

MAY 16, 1989

He’s still not sure this is actually happening.

If he stops to think about it, focuses too hard on the wrong thing, it might turn out to be a dream.

Jennifer is tucked into his side, her head on his shoulder, as he pushes them gently back and forth with his foot. The old porch swing creaks and the chain rattles. It’s the same as always, as familiar as breathing, but tonight, everything’s changed.

And they’re the only ones who know.

Marty kisses the top of her head, smiling.

“So, the future Mrs. Parker-McFly,” he begins, and she giggles.

“Yes, the future Mr. Parker-McFly?” she replies. God, the sound of that!

“…We got our whole life in front of us,” he continues. The album comes out in July and by this time next year they’ll each have degrees; real, actual college degrees. Somewhere further down the line, they’ll have kids and a place of their own and it’ll be so, so good. “How d’you think it’ll go?”

“We’ll graduate, get married,” Jennifer hums, with a dreamy sigh. “And once the album’s out, you’ll be so sick of hearing your songs on the radio all the time. But I won’t be.”

“You think so?” Marty teases. “Even after all the rehearsals?”

“Even then,” she reassures. “I’ll start writing. Maybe someday I’ll get a job as editor-in-chief.”

“There’s no maybe about it, Jen.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You’re gonna be great. You’ll win a Murrow Award and we’ll frame every article you write.”

“But you know something?” Jennifer asks. “Even if none of that happens, I’ll be happy if we just have one thing.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She pulls away from him then, taking his hands in hers— he’s gonna have to get used to the feeling of the ring around her finger— and searches his face.

“I wanna be sitting on our front porch with you sixty years from now, still holding your hand, and just as in love as we are now.”

Marty leans forward so their foreheads are touching, tracing the back of her hands with his thumbs.

“I want that too,” he agrees, “more than anything.”

[euphoriacafe]

Just had a sad thought… imagine one of the clones met you at 79’s or you always tried to reach out to them- then you secretly started a family with them or had a relationship- then Order 66 comes and you go to them not realizing they’re not the same person you fell in love with. If they didn't recognize or even believe you.

[yuckyfucky]

⋆｡ﾟ(??????? // ?????????) 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.𝖿𝗍.𝐄𝐋𝐋𝚰𝐄 𝐖𝚰𝐋𝐋𝚰𝐀𝐌𝐒 remix

author’s scribbles: my s!lly as$ was in an incredibly s!lly mood. i wanna laughᵎᵎ i wanna have fun, a bch can hardly sit stillᵎᵎ

summary: ♡ ellie goes out on a date with friend ♡

uhhh w⚠︎rnings(??)..mm 2 b aware of..(???): honestly self insert, alllll oc’s r blk(coded) ☆, a lvl of unserious-ness, these bchs r str8 (no) up CLOWNS, “cuz u gay n’ stuff,” fwb 2 lovers, fluff + suggestive, not proofread @ all (SAWRY), loosely based on a story i have in mind, i have a visionᵎᵎ

l: v (very), wld (would), 2 (to), cld (could), bk (back), @ (at), nvr (never), 4 (for) // my slang is jus foolishness buh i can’t stop! update: im reading this thinking..damn this might give y’all a HEADACHE geezus, lemme make it make sense a bit fr 😭💀

╔═══　　

•..0..*AND

NOW..$..#..%ᵎᵎ

═══╝

✎ “come.on. there’s gotta be fucking something..SOMETHING!” the last time ellie went shopping was almost half a yr ago. she wore her shit til the seams unraveled

✎ cue 2 a night when she tried 2 send an “accidentally on purpose” thirst trap but the second she pulled @ her shirt 2 flash a lil sumthin’, it came undone by the sides she still sent a pic

✎ wearing SCRAPS 4 clothing @ this point. “fffuuuuUUUUCCC—!” just a mess!

✎ n’ her excuse reasoning 4 STILL not going 2 damn store despite actually looking very forward 2 her night-out “it was in the spur of the moment!” (sheee literally had three whole days 2 go buh was all heart eyes n’ wobbly knees simply bcuz she had finally asked. oh, n’ bcuz her date said “yes,” obvi ♡)

✎ her hands shuffled robotically in front of her face before settling them on the back of her neck. terrible, TERRIBLE tics; she knew better than 2 bite @ her fingers

✎ especially after oc had made a comment that if she didn’t stop she’d end up with “frog fingers.” completely brushing over the countless vids of ppl they’ve seen wound up in the hospital bcuz of that that n’ a few other ridiculous warnings were thrown @ ellie if she didn’t want 2 end up accidentally leaving herself disfigured in the later future

✎ lightly being scared—or as she would call it, “bullied” out of her bad nervous habits

< from: my silly rabbit💋💋 > (tots didn’t personally put that in as their contact 030)

nobody:

u:

✎ but it was working. her lips also recovering from the excessive biting and lack of lip balm

LOL&;$:8:8.&IMFKNGONE ↴

✎ disgustingly dragging/typing out their laughter 4 emphasis on how funny they thought sumthin’ was, ranging from pure gibberish or (a personal fave) “AAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA” 4 obnoxiousness

✎ oc was as silly as they come: nvr failing 2 make an interrobang form above ellie’s head or getting a smile out of her

1) from a fucksesh that lasted nearly 3hrs, the both of them clocked out almost immediately right after. tho ellie’s slumber was cut short when she heard giggling in the middle of night. going thru emotions of confusion 2 anxiousness then annoyance n’ fearfulness. it was that she was being robbed or her place was haunted, n’ who tf had the time 4 either?? she leaned over, ready 2 shake oc awake n’ grab a bat she kept neatly stashed from underneath her bed buh paused when she saw them comfortably asleep with a fkn smile on their face. another giggle escaping their lips before they unconsciously stuffed their hand into their underwear

2) ellie could practically see the gears turning in their head from her peripheral. cocking their head 2 the side while they noisily slurped down a sweet tea they had gotten earlier from a lil donut shop right off of campus. a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. “..ellie,” they started ooh so casually “you know how to dance?” she squinted her eyes before rolling them. failing 2 suppress a smile which only grew bigger when oc surpassed hers with a cheshire-like grin “…no.” “So if I throw ass, how you gonna catch it?”

✎ dina shared that ellie was only working herself up. especially considering that they’d b out n’ around in such (inconsistent) humid + hot weather. with a pat on her shoulder n’ a “you’ll figure it out” 4 extra support, along with a promise to take her shopping next week. n’ ellie did. same way she let out a sigh of relief when she figured out which carnival 2 go 2 instead. this one being 30mins away. ellie didn’t want them to cross any paths with old habits. it was lowkey much 4 her that she still went 2 the same university

✎ oki, now ellie wasn’t exaaactly a player persay. tho she did happen 2 get around..often.. (unintentionally) leaving behind a lil more than a handful of broken hearts affiliated with either jesse or dina having 2 suffer n’ fend off awkward run-ins from “have you seen Ellie”’s. playing confused like they don’t practically live with her not like that’s their business anyway. blowing em’ off wit a neck scratch n’ a tired “she’s in jackson for the next two weeks.” followed up by a ray of annoyed texts sent her way: bro, call them already! x next time im giving them the keys to ur room buh-buh ntm on her! she’s a changed person now!

✎ tho she did met oc @ a time despite claiming she was done with hookups, happily welcomed them into her life with open arms, and open legs and an open mouth. but it was a treat 4 herself! had absolutely no expectations other than a lil summer fling @ best buh overtime she found herself wanting them 2 stay a lil longer (tho it took her awhile 2 admit it)

✎ she crossed her fingers n’ hoped, damn near got on her knees n’ PRAYED that they didn’t know about her promiscuities. like she didn’t spend her first 2yrs n’ sum change walking round campus with “community strap” practically stamped on her forehead—like that wasn’t exactly how n’ y they even met! (womp womp)

✎ ◁◁: oc knew of ellie best from a conversation they shamelessly eavesdropped on during composition. a girl n’ assumingely a fren, were trying 2 ever so quietly (buh failing) 2 talk about her. her n’ another one apparently. called them a “cock carousel,” tho admittedly confessing she’d like 2 get on that ride all dreamily. it made them curious

✎ damn her hypnotic green orbs n’ those scruffy ass shoes!

✎ dina ain’t give a shit fr lol. FINALLY an opportunity 2 give ellie a lil makeover after all those years she turned her down when they were younger, cuz apparently she was jus too cool 4 that shi n’ dina was willing 2 take whatever she cld get. ellie knew it was coming too

✎ “you know—“ “no.” “..?..you don’t even—“ “no.” “why are saying ‘no’, you don’t even—“ “no.” “you didn’t even—” “no!” “fine, be late to your date!”

✎ either ellie wasted more time tryna puzzle piece whatever was left of her wardrobe n’ b late or her clothes would come apart before she even left the damn house, making her even more late

✎ she knew she gave herself the short end of the stick. ellie didn’t even have 2 utter a “yes.” dina was already down the hall happily humming 2 herself, that deep exasperated sigh of defeat from ellie was more than enough. she could hear the clatter of doors opening. it’ll just have 2 do

╔═══　　

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ OC’S POV

“Okay, look up again real quick!” “Oou put this on ‘nstead!” “Lemme add another strip!” Excited squeals circled the living room. I stood tall and balanced on the foot stool. Theatrically posing like a Zara Model (a.k.a unserious). I basked in my friends buzzing energy like a damn mannequin while they beautified me for my little adventure—oh! Sorry, DATE, of the night. Lightly..floating away.. back.. — .t

.

。

o

o

　　 o

　　　　　 o

　 o

　 。

ₒₐa

a late convo in the middle of July.

< from: ew!..♡ >

then the beeeest fucking part

ending the night with elephant ears

or funnel-cake

u know, something like that

“Something like that..” I read her text aloud to myself. Geeked up in bed like she was a high-school crush: a finger pinched between my teeth and feet kicked up into the air. This was serious!

I motioned my hand in slow circles as I watched the three dot speech bubble appear then disappear for the next minute.

Mhmm..Oki!..Oki!

Then two.

..Oki!..Oki!…….Oki? My smile faltered and I stopped my movements.

It’s been five minutes.

I lulled my head to side and scoffed. My dazed smile turned agape.

< to: ew!..♡ >

…..i know this ain’t ur way of asking me out

…

ellie😭

i was working my up to it!

talking bout something like that

b a fkn lady!

damn! i won’t ask then!

ooooomfg, i was jus playing

it was funny.LAUGH!!!

elliiiieeeugh

We started spamming each other. Her pretending to be chicken shit while I demanded for an official proposal. I loved, fuckin’ DESERVED to be courted dammit!

fine! sorry!

..[redacted]

uuuugh

???

do u NOT want 2 take me out or sumthin?!?

bro, STOP

just let me do my thing!

“Just let me do my thing!” I mocked.

“Hmph!,” I let out a squeak as I hugged squeezed the shit out of my pillow. Growing silent while I waited. My heart racing.

can u go out with me?

What the..? I deadpanned and kissed my teeth.

i mean…..ig i CAN

u know, since that’s wha ur asking me

Giggling myself, I imagined her combing a hand through her hair while yelling out “oooooooh my gooooooo—!” I don’t care! This isn’t middle school!

toooots not w8g 2 b swept up off of my feet by prince charming or sumthin..

I dramatically pouted into the phone. Just sitting here! Waiting and waiting aaaanD WAIT—

O’ [redacted], O’ [redacted], wouldst thee liketh to wend out on a date with me to the

fuck it

carnival this saturday at 7??

Oh how dramatic!

WOAH?!

not even a “let down your hair” remix?? u went deep into the wenches wit it. u sure u nvr been 2 a renaissance fair b4🤨 bet they had ur freaky ass greet ppl by the s🚫x dungeons

u got that shi str8 from google anyway!!

Immediately a speech bubble popped up.

LOL

STOP, JUS LEMME HAVE A LAUGH OMGG

EHEM, EHEM!!

i wouldst v’ry much like—th..uhh that

^-^

and u said I got my shit from google

took u 10mins just to look something up and put together that scrambled egg of a sentence

lmaooo

ANYWAYS!!

@ 7

T’is a date!

it’s a date

:)

*　　　　　　　　

　　 . ⊹ ���

☾　˚₊‧꒰ა It’s a date! It’s a date! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚　　. 　　

✦⠀　,　

˚ . I threw my phone onto the bed and screamed into the pillow. Excitedly kicking my legs. ⋆ ⠀　　　⠀.　

　　˚　　　　,　“Wait, oh my gosh!”—I grabbed back my phone—“I gotta tell the others. Imma need help with this!” .

.

< to: we r lightskin, n’ we can help you >

guess who’s goin on a date with a certain sum1 2 the carnival this Saturday, @ 7??!

I laid sprawled out. Waiting for my phone to blow up—bzzt! bzzt!.. BZZTBZZTBZZTBZZTBZZT! Oh, never mind.

What will we even do? Oki, I mean..yeah! It’s the literally the fair. Just get up on a damn ride, ‘woohoo’ n’ whatever, but like..it’s been a little minute since I’ve went out-out…especially on a date.

My smile fell and settled into a deep frown.

What if I embarrass myself? What if I don’t even get to do that? . What if she flakes out last minute? Or worse! What if—

“BOOOOORRRIIING!” I yelled. Wiping my face to swipe all of that negativity into the trash.

　　　˚　　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　.

. “Yeah, enough entertaining that shit..” ,

　 *　　 ⠀.★

　　　　　.　　　　“It’s a date,” I reassured myself. Lightly brushing my fingertips over my lips. That dopey smile making its way back on my face. “It’s a date.” ⠀✦

　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　*　　　　　

It’s a

ₒₐa

。

o

O

○

🅳. Ⓘ ᗡ ๏ ˎˊ˗

П. 𝗚

ˏˋ. Ͷ【G】

═══╝

✎ the house stood still. then came the hushed shrieks

✎ oc was suddenly pulled into a whirlpool of 21 questions n’ inspection: “text—no, CALL me when you guys get there! and give me updates every four hours.” “do you have your keys? what about your lipgloss?” “ur location still on?” their friend, brandy, patted n’ smoothed down the crop top she had picked out 4 them 2 wear (along with some shorts). “okay..okay..” reassuringly murmuring more 2 herself than them. making sure the 10 strips of boob tape was wrapped securely (they REFUSED 2 wear a bra again!..unless it was rly cute ofc)

✎ n’ right before they knew it , n’ could answer a damn question, they were shoved out the house with a slam behind them

✎ staring @ the puzzled freckled faced girl (who quickly collected themselves from tripping up the steps from the porch n’ almost crushing the gifts she had bought them)

✎ she was dressed in a plain black wife beater top, dark green lounge shorts n’ those damn converses. she scrunched up her face n’ scoffed @ nearly everything dina originally had picked out. hyping herself up in the bathroom “damn i look good” while dina stared @ her thru the mirror bored n’ rolled her eyes before walking away

✎ does that shit where she uses her spit 2 slick her eyebrows instead of buying eyebrow gel

✎ all of that just 4 her 2 hide in her car 4 almost 10mins outside of oc’s place bcuz she was doubtful n’ regretting her outfit choice

✎ oc ooooobviously thought she looked hot af (regardless/always) ♡

✎ “oh uh, sorry about that. my friends are uh..” oc’s hands flailed around as they tried 2 collect their words. pointing n’ looking back towards the front door, but paused when they didn’t see any light from the other side of the peephole. “the fuck..?” were they..seriously watching them?! looking 2 the window, immediately the curtains shuffled bk. NOSEY PERVERTED AS—

✎“like that isn’t you..” ellie let out a chuckle from behind them. “here.” she handed them an overly stuffed gift basket full of pop up confetti cards, candy n’ sum other things. knowing how much they love 2 b spoiled with all the lil silly things that makes their world go round. beaming like a child on halloween night

✎ ▷▷: engulfed by the shrill screams of kids n’ the aroma of overly sweetened treats in the air battling the occasional MUSK from ppl that refused 2 wear/carry deodorant. the two of them spent the first half an hr pushing thru the crowd 2 find one of those expensive air sprayed shirt displays. bought sets of two: coordinating n’ individuals. oc settled picked a stencil 4 their shirt 2 say heaven sent in bubble font with a hot babe on the side where ellie’s said hell bound in block font with a big headed styled chibi drawing of her

✎ individuals: oc’s got a bunny blowing hubba bubba n’ ellie’s was of the moon of course (she’s never taking it off btw)

✎ oc tots failed 2 b keep their frens posted buh @ least they turned on their location. it counts 4 sumthin!

✎ oc has a major sweettooth: practically inhaled a diabolical sugar rush of strawberry milkshake topped with giant lollipops, cotton candy, sprinkles n’ gummy bears. ellie felt sick jus looking @ it. they were getting caramel popcorn next

✎ all the rides were old n’ rusty as hell. went on the lil spooky merry go-round n’ not even a jump scare or sum flashing lights, jus riding in the dark 💀 wasted 3tickets 4 that shi

✎ they shared a liking 2 fast, spinning rides. jus another n’ a much more fun excuse 2 b up against each other (…in public)

✎ not silly, jus a menace: “put ur foot here” ellie bent down 2 show oc a cool trick, “now lift,” already walking away. pleased n’ laughing 2 herself. “UUUUGH!” leaving behind oc 2 grimace @ the glob of gum stuck beneath their shoe. yeah, cuz that’ll show em’ 4 putting a fkn ZIP TIE who tf just carry’s those??! on ellie’s car handle attached 2 a shopping cart 2 beat her in a (mini n’ SAFE) race back to her place

✎ “it was funny. laugh!” ellie mocked. circling oc as they pretended to b annoyed. “y’all hear sumthin?” literally jus talking 2 themselves, per usual. ellie kissed her teeth “such a baby, here I’ll make it up to you” she stride towards one of the many gaming booths where workers who looked like they had better things 2 do boringly resisted lines along “step right up…” (disappointingly looking nothing like nor holding the same enthusiasm like that one guy from that carnival video game) “which one you want?” oc pointed at a Kai-Lan plushie

✎ ooh, she cheated. it was either that or she was gonna (somehow) steal the plushie. the both of them coming 2 an agreeable justification: all the games were rigged

✎ hanging out 4 a bit, ellie ate two corndogs n’ oc stuffed their face full of fries (that were no different—literally bought from the grocery store, not they cared anyways. their argument being “it’s tastes better!”) while they complained n’ expressed their delight 4 the “architecture” of fairs. rambling on n’ on about how lame most places r now 4 taking down all the weird whacky shi: the giant objects on the walls @ in malls 4 advertisement, the fake homes above the deli/vegetable section in grocery stores, fuckin’ fast food restaurants n’ movies theaters losing wha made them movie theaters in the first place. “whyyy do i have to drive out of the state just to find a movie theater that still uses mothafuckin’ cutouts?!” all the things that made life a little more enjoyable. “look, look!!” holding up their phone 2 ellie’s face “i know what im talking about!!”

✎ completely bypassed the ferris wheel or a causal walk right after eating n’ excitedly got in line 2 the fkn GRAVITRON🧍🏽‍♀️learned absolutely NOTHING from the last time they went 2 the fair n’ ate a shit ton of food before going on a ride. literally has it set as a “rule” in their notes app

✎“shit, i think im gonna—“ ellie held her hand against her stomach as she hunched over the exit railing, covering her mouth. “im walking away from you” oc hurried down the ramp “you better not! stop!!” screaming @ ellie as she chased them around acting as if she was gonna vomit on them

✎ she actually did puke. making a frantic beeline to the bathrooms. oc gave them the french fry bucket they were gonna keep as a souvenir , incase she felt nauseous again buh the toilet wasn’t close by. they’ll jus get another one before they leave

✎ eventually the musky crowd dispersed, children’s screams were replaced by light squeals n’ the pitter patter of shoes against the grass mixed with unintelligible conversations

✎ the two of them made their way towards the back of the fair. headed str8 4 the funhouse that was freakishly empty. the glow from the red lights created a spooky ambiance. just walked right in cuz whoever was supposed 2 stand outside was nowhere 2 b found

✎ “this kinda reminds me of this music video..ca—mm..don’t know a lick of belig..em??..belginguam??” “Are you serious..” “Wait hush, hush, HUSH! uhh..belgium—YEAH, belgium!!”

✎ they started shuffling their body awkwardly, trying 2 replicate the dances in the mv. “lemme stop before something actually happens” it was supposed 2 b like a ritual/possession

✎ “uh uh, back up!” “what i thought you liked me?” ellie corned them tryna get a kiss. “yeah once u brushed n’ rinsed out your mouth! im not kissing no—stop, get off of me, FREAK!” they giggled. pushing her out of the way n’ running back outside

✎ ellie’s ego was satiated from showing off her gaming skills at a mini arcade (since when did they have those??), adding another plushy to the mountain oc was carrying beside her. tho their mood was a bit sour bcuz the photo-booth was out of order , all those pinterest reference photos they were so ready 2 recreate

✎ greedy as$ bought more fries, a burger n’ two extra corndogs. choosing 2 believe the money was being well spent . no real care 4 cost effectiveness , “it made me happy that’s all that matters!!”

✎ n’ ofc, ended the night wit elephant ears AND funnel cake ♡ (n oc’s phone blowing up 4 not giving the dets 2 their nosey frens)

damn that ending was FLAT!! lol 😭😭 tell me if i used hcs properly tho , literally jus told a whole story thru it cuz i couldn’t do it the other way (yet). was fighting 4 my life fr // thanks lot 2: [ @s-4pphics n’ @seattlesellie ] 4 encouraging me 2 write ^-^

[camels-pen]

mmm read a hurt/comfort Zoro fic recently and like. I get it now. That guy DOES hurt so pretty. kinda wanna try my hand at it.

-

A voice disappeared.

Zoro stopped in his tracks, feet rooted to the spot.

Who was it? Where? How-?

Just barely, he managed to block a blade aiming for his neck.

Luffy was ahead of him, laughing his head off. The cook was a bright flaming beacon in the sky.

The rest? C'mon take a count, Zoro. Make sure.

Usopp. Nami. Chopper. Jinbei. Robin. Cook. Luffy.

What? Two? No, where were-

His breath hitched as he blocked another attack.

Calm down. Take a breath. Count again.

Usopp. Nami. Robin. Cook. Luffy.

Fuck. They couldn't-

No, they had to have left the battlefield. These guys were smallfry, even for the so called "weakling trio".

Zoro took a moment to focus on the enemy around him. He let off a tatsumaki before focusing again.

One at a time, Zoro. Come on.

Usopp.

Robin.

Sanji.

Zoro jerked, eyes wide and searching frantically.

"No, no no no no no. He can't have-" Luffy would never leave before the battle was done, not without making some kind of grand exit. He wouldn't leave without telling Zoro- telling anyone- about it.

He wouldn't up and disappear into thin air like that. Not unless-

Zoro shook his head roughly. They were fine, he just couldn't see them. It would be too much of a coincidence for them all to disappear like that. He just needed to count again, then regroup with Usopp, Robin, and the cook, and figure out what was going on.

Stay calm, Zoro. Losing your head won't find your friends.

So, again, Zoro breathed. And Zoro counted.

Usopp.

The only voice left, was Usopp.

Zoro wasted no time.

He sprinted as fast as he could, cutting down anyone in front of him almost as an after thought, as he bulldozed towards Usopp's voice.

He'd nearly made it too, when some dead man kicked his side hard enough to stop him in his tracks.

Zoro turned to him, a snarl on his face. "Get out of my way before I kill you."

"Huh?" The man sneered. "I should be saying the same thing, watch where you swing those swords, asshole."

Zoro was about to retort when he noticed Usopp's voice moving away from him. He didn't have time for this.

Without warning, Zoro moved to slice through his opponent and, to his surprise, the man blocked it with ease.

"You wanna go? Here and now?" the man growled. "I'll kick your fucking ass."

This man- Zoro has never met him before, but nonetheless felt he would need to pay him his full attention to have a chance at winning.

But Usopp was getting farther and farther-

Oh, Zoro could hit himself.

"USOPP!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, startling the man. "STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE, I'LL BE THERE SOON!"

Usopp didn't respond, but he stopped moving, and that was good enough for now.

"Hey!" The man yelled, pressing down on Zoro's swords. "Whatever you need him for can wait until after our battle's over. He's got his own problems to deal with."

Zoro didn't bother wasting his breath. He cut and slashed, throwing attack after attack without abandon. It didn't matter if he was wasting his energy, he needed to get to Usopp before- before-

The man, infuriatingly, blocked almost every blow, and got a few hits in on Zoro himself.

Zoro would get to Usopp, even if it killed-!

Suddenly, there was a crackle in the air and all at once, Zoro's nerves lit up with pure unfiltered pain.

He dropped to his knees, blurry vision wavering on black shoes. He couldn't feel his arms. Or his face. And his head was getting lighter and lighter.

Zoro's fading thoughts were prayers, to a god he didn't believe in, to keep his friend safe.

-

"GYAHHH, ZORO'S GONNA KILL ME!"

"Nami-swan, a little help please?" Sanji said, voice uncharacteristically strained.

"If you're asking, how can I say no?" Nami said, smirking. "Get out of the way... now!" The moment Sanji pushed off Zoro's swords to hop away, she brought down her Thunderbolt Tempo on top of Zoro. He fell to his knees before crumbling to the ground, twitching.

"You could've knocked him out on your own though, why ask for my help?" Nami asked.

"Ah well, it seemed he had a couple screws loose and I didn't want to kill what little braincells were remaining." Nami nodded in understanding.

The two of them turned to Usopp as he inched his way closer. He carefully prodded Zoro's thigh with his boot. "He's really unconscious, right? Not gonna get up anytime soon?"

Nami shrugged. "It's always hard to tell with him. But don't worry," -she stood tall, holding out her Climatact- "I'll shock him as many times as necessary."

"That means I get to live another day, so you have the Usopp deal of approval." Usopp gave her a thumbs up.

"What'd you even do to get him so pissed at you, Usopp?" Nami asked.

"Nothing!" He paused and looked away. "Well, nothing recently."

"He wasn't just mad," Sanji said. "He looked..." Scared, Sanji wanted to say. But the word was so... simple. Too simple. And it didn't explain the desperation in his eye. The wet sheen. The way he hardly blinked.

The way he kept himself facing the direction Usopp was in, revealing his constant use of Haki.

This wasn't just Zoro scared. This was Zoro terrified.

And Sanji had never seen him terrified before.

"...off," Sanji settled on, furrowing his brow. "He looked off."

Nami and Usopp hummed in thought.

The three of them stared down at Zoro's prone body. An ominous dark puddle started growing under him.

The three of them sighed.

"I'll call Chopper-" Usopp felt a tug on his ankle. He looked down. Zoro's hand was holding his boot. "I thought you said he was unconscious!" he yelled, trying to break his grip unsuccessfully.

Sanji poked Zoro with his shoe. Zoro didn't move. "He's still unconscious, so you're gonna have to be his teddy bear."

"What?! No!" He gripped onto Sanji's shirt. "Sanji-kun pleaaaaase free me before my ankle's crushed in his sleep!"

Sanji rolled an eye. "You'll be fine."

"Then can you go get Chopper? Zoro's losing a lot of blood."

"The mosshead'll be fine too. Also," -Sanji pointed to Luffy and Chopper doing some kind of strange combo attack, with Chopper in Heavy Point using Luffy as a whip- "I don't wanna break up their fun."

"Sanji-kun," Nami piped up. "Go get Chopper, please."

"Of course, Nami-swan!" Sanji immediately ran off.

-

The two of them quietly watched him go.

"Did you see what caused this?" Usopp asked.

Nami shook her head. "I know about as much as you do: Zoro suddenly taking out a big group at once and then charging towards you." She bit her lip. "I don't think he recognized Sanji."

Usopp sighed, squatting down to pull the bandana from green hair. He stared at the slackened face of his friend, hands tightening in dark fabric.

"What happened to you, Zoro?"

[suguwu]

the thing about me thinking about gojo is i always go back to what seeing your face without barriers means to him. how he gets it so rarely. how he memorizes every little detail of your face, of you, so he can carry it with him even when all he can see is the outline of you. so that he can always fill in that blank space until the next time he takes his blindfold off.

[santaverse]

Time flies, huh?

This week, I've started planning the blog's return! As usual, the plan is to open November 1st! See you all around then!!

[plantfell]

Event: Homecoming - Arrival Drabble

TW: suicide / suicidal ideation and self harm

“Vash!”

The unfamiliar voice of a child calling out his brother’s name is the first thing that registers to Knives. His eyes are closed, but it’s impossible to not recognize the warmth of the sun on his skin and the taste of an arid desert breeze. It occurs to Knives that he doesn’t remember walking outside, 0r why he might be standing there with his eyes closed, or why a child might ever be outside the Ark.

“Vash!”

There’s the voice again, further away now. Right, the other sound must be small feet stomping through the sand. As more comes into focus, Knives starts to feel a nagging sense of deja vu. It lingers for a moment, then it all comes together and Knives’ eyes snap open. There’s no Ark in sight. The only building for miles is a lone church which the young boy is running towards.

Carlito.

That’s right. The child’s name is Carlito. Carlito Bond. The child of a frontier doctor. This is where Knives brought his brother after their fight. This is the last memory Knives had of No Man’s Land, but it’s not a memory. It all feels too real to just be a memory. For some reason he’s been sent home with all his memories of the island, but Knives isn’t sure that’s how this is how it’s supposed to work. Vash has been on Spirale longer maybe he- Knives takes one step towards the church, then stops.

Vash is here. Knives can feel it in his bones. If he follows Carlito inside, and down to the bunker, he has no doubt he’ll be greeted by his brother’s all too forced smile. But is it Vash? Is it the same man he’s spent the last nine months with? The points they come from all vary. If Vash was sent back too would he be sent to this point with Knives or somewhere further into the future?

Knives’ stomach churns as he considers the possibilities. He knows, of course, that whether or not the Vash of the present has memories of Spirale or not they’ll be able to rebuild their relationship. It would probably even be easier with the knowledge he has, but would it be the same or would there always be some unbreachable wall between them? He’s not even supposed to be here. It’s nothing but pure luck or the Star’s whims that he arrived before he was able to take his own life. The way things are supposed to be is that Carlito runs to get his father and Vash, and…

And Knives never really thought about the after before. It was never supposed to be something he needed to think about. His final selfish act, he supposes. Now he’s in the beginning of the after with a heavy knot in his throat and stomach. There’s too many what ifs and too many hard questions and conversations ahead.

If he stays.

Which he doesn’t. Knives gives the church one last longing look before turning and flying away. If Vash remembers, he’ll reach out. If he doesn’t… It doesn’t matter. What Knives needs to focus on is where he’s going and what his options are. The Gung-Ho Guns are done for, and the Eye of Michael isn’t an option. Their ranks already shaken by the loss of their leader no doubt in even worse shape after the disappearance of their angel. No, there’s no telling how those fanatics, or any of his fringe followers, might react and he doesn’t have the luxury of being able to waste energy fighting them off if things go wrong.

For now, Knives makes his way to the nearest city. One that’s not so small they might make notice of a strange new traveler, but one that’s not so big it will have a large police force. Somewhere he can disappear into and collect his thoughts in relative privacy. With only a tattered sheet of fabric to his name, it’s easy enough for Knives to play the part of a homeless beggar. Pay no mind to the dirty man skulking the streets. Don’t look too closely at his face or the wanted posters plastered on every wall of the city.

First things first, Knives needs money. Stealing is an option, but it will only get him so far with the annoying need to conserve his energy. It would be pointless to steal only to lose his life defending his loot. He can’t take too many risks. He needs to start out small.

It isn’t hard to find a good mark and follow them into an unpopulated street. Forming a small blade in his hand uses a negligible amount of energy. All he has to do is slide it into the unsuspecting man’s back and claim his prize. It’s something he’s done dozens, if not hundreds of times. Killing is as easy as breathing. It’s been his way of life for decades.

So, why then does he find himself freezing with his blade just inches away from the man? His hand is frozen and his stomach is tying itself into knots again. Something about it feels wrong, and it doesn’t take Knives long to figure out why. Killing a man for no reason other than a need for money feels too much like backsliding. He’s spent months trying to be a better man than he was. Better than this.

If he were anywhere else, Knives might feel proud that he stopped himself, but not here. Not on a planet where everyone rightfully wants to see him dead for what he’s done to it and it’s people. A planet without allies or a place to call home. It’s kill or be killed, and apparently he can’t kill. Is there any way he can survive or is he just delaying the inevitable by trying?

Before Knives can reconcile what is and what was, the man notices him and turns. Recognition and fear are quick to spread across the man’s face in a way Knives almost forgot. He remembers how the humans used to look at him, of course, but those memories dulled over time. It’s so much different when the fear is palpable.

Once the initial fear passes, the man is quick to run, and Knives makes no move to chase. It’s an odd sensation to watch the man’s retreating figure and to see it as a man, and not prey. To be feared fills him with an intoxicating sense of power, but it also makes him feel lonely. Knives doesn’t care about chasing or killing. He just wants to be home.

Knives grabs at the cloth covering his aching heart. Home. When was it that Spirale came to feel like home to him? It’s a nighmarish world that restricted his power and threw cruel tests at him, but it has it’s peaceful moments, too. More peaceful than No Man’s Land, certainly. It has Vash. It has Zazie. More recently it’s come to have Elendira. There are others it’s missing, but there are those who he would never be able to meet otherwise, too.

The sound of boots rapidly approaching drags Knives from this aching thoughts just in time to see a trio of Terrans round the corner. Damn it. How quickly the consequences of letting the man go came to bite him in the ass. Knives braces himself to fight, but his inability to kill the man has left his resolve shaken and he’s not sure if he’s willing to test quite how much bloodlust he has left.

For the second time in this world, Knives finds himself running from a fight. He has to get out of the city, and fast. There’s no telling how quickly the Terrans might be able to get word of his location out to the rest of the Earth fleet and how long it might take that information to get to Chronica. In his current state, Knives is confident he can get out of a fight with the humans alive at least once, but fighting with a fully powered independent is without a doubt a death sentence.

Wings give Knives an advantage, and it doesn’t take long for him to find his way out of the city limits. He keeps flying in random directions until the twin suns begin to hang low in the sky. Adrenaline keeps him moving for the most part, but when the crash comes it hits Knives hard. His wings begin to dip and he falls into the sand on his hands and knees. He’s not sure if he’s made it far enough away, or if he’s obfuscated his path enough, but Knives has reached his limit.

All at once the emotions he’s been trying so hard to control fall onto his shoulders. Where is he supposed to go? Who can he rely on? How long will he be here? Is there any fate left for him other than death? Knives’ mind swims with a dozen unanswerable, but equally important questions. He presses his head into the sand as his arms wrap tightly around his torso. Nails dig into his shoulders and drag painfully along his upper arms, drawing tiny specks of blood as they go. He wants to cry. He wants to scream. He just wants to be home.

Vash, Knives calls out. Not to the man still hidden away in a doctor’s bunker, but out into the void. As if his powers might be able to transcend time and space to reach the brother he’s left behind on Spirale.

I’m scared.

[sparklingchim]

Daryl do your lips (or lwh oc’s mayhaps a Drabble 👀🥺) also get puffy when u cry? Saw the whale today and when my BFF picked me up he thought I put on a lip plumper 😶

yes i hate it my whole face gets puffy afterwards 😔 i wanna watch the whale too !! but i hate crying in the cinema cos it literally happens with every single film i watch so perhaps i shouldn't :') i always get teased by my friends for it </3

[mallaacht]

@monterraverde ASKED TO CRY SO HERE IT IS

Pokemon always remember.

Whether it's one life, two lives, a thousand lives. They will always remember.

It remembered hiding in soft fluff, in cuddling their human friend, in being carried everywhere. They remember being used for mischief, they remember happily toddling along. It remembers being loved. And it loved her. And would always remember her.

So when they met again, thousands and thousands and thousands of years later, they were happy to help her. Screaming and shouting with all of its little Whooper lungs. It remembered. This was its human. Their knight come back. What a stroke of luck. They could repay her kindness for picking it up so long ago. She would not remember, though, but that was all right. Humans were silly like that, forgetting all the time.

It's all right.

It was happy to be by her side again, to grow up beside her and be the one constant companion in her life. It regretted not being an ordinary Whooper, but she loved it all the same, toxic as it had become. Touting it as still very cute and adorable, keeping it by her side even when it got old, began to slow And yet, it was still her favourite, he best ace. And it was happy to keep helping her out, trudging along beside her in its usual slow pace.

It loved her.

It wished it was like olden times, when humans could communicate with Pokemon more. But the unfortunate truth was they could no longer hear the voices of the creatures they lived beside, so it had learned how to show her love and care. By cuddling. By laying on top of her. Even when it became so much bigger, it wasted no time covering her whole body with its own, smothering her with its affection.

Because it loved her.

It would do anything for her.

When the time came when the Eternal King would eventually return, betrayed once more by the ones they loved (you would think humans would stop hurting someone who loves them the way the Eternal King did, but humans were so silly, forgetting all the time what they did wrong) and the darkness returned....the crawling, living malice created by humans....

The malice that was coming for its human.

With a speed it never knew it hd, they rammed into her, pushing her aside. Pushing her out of the way and into safety.

Its dear Rika.

That was all it could think as the malice tore into its flesh, dug deeply into its bones and ate up its blood and flesh, made it become one with the living malice, the scourge that had existed since time immemorial.

It wished they could have had more time together.

I love you, Rika.

It wished humans could still hear the voices of Pokemon, so that its last cries were not some insensible rambling while she screamed and screamed for her partner, being held back by another so she wouldn't be caught in the malice, too.

I love you, Rika.

It wished it had been just a normal Whooper and Quagsire for her, like so long ago. It knew being so toxic could be a problem at times.

I love you, Rika.

It wished it could help Rika more. She was still so hurt by her father's betrayal. So hurt by everything in life. It wanted to comfort her more, be there for her when she has her mate, her hatchlings, while it got old.

I love you, Rika.

I love you, Rika. I love, you Rika. I love, you Rika. I love, you Rika.

I love, you Rika. I love, you Rika. I love you. I love you. I love you.

I love....I love...I love...I love....

I....

Ĝ̵̥̣̞̤̜̞͇̰͖̤̮̱̼̯̓ͅr̸̡̟̬̯͎̖̪̜͛͂̊̓͂͒͗̽͜͜͠ā̸̫̤̰̼̮̱̻̑̍͜o̶̟̲̳̰͎͕̳̾͜͝Á̴̧̡̛͔̦̣̫̠̥̮̺̼͙̬͙͇́̎̓͑̓̚͝͝o̸͉͕̓́̓͐̒̃̾̃̏̈́̄̚ą̸̨̛̺͔̖͈̝̠͎͐̊̈́́̈́̊̌̔̚A̵̧̡͚̲̘̳̫̞̲̙͙̼͌̾̎̉̇͗̔̄̈͜a̸̛͕͙̣͕̻̥̻̱̲̯͈̹͕͛͑̔̊͌̿̌́̉͛͋̋̏͝ȃ̵̞̞̬̥̟̼̝̫͌A̶̡͕̲̖̬̙̯͑͊̒͊̉̏́͛̀̀̓̕͝a̷̢͓͍͈̺͓̗̠̠̰͇̣͂̈́̀̔̽͝͝R̵̨̳̜͐̽̾͊̆̾̋̊̀̂́̂̕̚r̵̡͕͎̥͍̻̬̐̅̄͘r̴��̢̱̭̣͓͓̣̻̖̔̑̓̕͝!̸̻̯̫̫͔̦̝̼̞̞͖̅̈!̷̡̡̡͙͔͙͔̗͚͙͂̈́̀̚!̴̧̠̲̜̪̟̄̆̈́̎̿͋!̴̙̥̞̲̣̻̬̈͝

[stxriesfromashisms]

Tag Dumps

come at me bro (open starters ; mutuals only) its meme time ; the only cure for sadness (memes ; specify muse) game over (meme replies) i’m calling you out pls love me (starter and plotting calls ; mutuals only) got my eye on you (tracking threads) pictures worth thousands of words (gif and photosets) these words are my diaries screaming out loud (drabbles) the sound of music (playlist) resourceful goodness (references) finders keepers (saved things) arguing with my children (mun and muse interactions) sin to win (nsfw) sinning is winning (nsfw ish) the world in different parts (verses) gimme gimme pls and thanks (plot wishlist) and the chapter closes (ended threads)

[lale-txt]

❥ falling asleep besides you for the first time ↳ w/ Toji, Naoya, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Sukuna & Choso

a/n: this came over me like a fever dream during another episode of insomnia. some of those drabbles are a little sad, i apologize. it's what you get with all those tragics characters. reader is gn!

word count: 1.4k

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t even want to fall asleep; it’s not like he had a good night of rest ever since… well. He tells himself he’s just gonna close his eyes for a bit, stretched out on the couch next to you, his weary head in your lap. There’s still blood on his hands and on the side of his face, he’s gonna get cleaned up in just a bit, he mumbles, but the words come out heavy and drowsy, and your fingers are tangled in his hair now and your voice is this sweet whisper, baby, I love you anyway, and Toji–Toji just gives in. For the first time, sleep doesn’t come over him as a heavy veil, as if he’s drowning; for once it’s something peaceful, something quiet. Something he welcomes. Next to you, you with your fingers woven between his, you who loves even the broken parts of him, you with quiet love and reassurance that you’re still gonna be there when he wakes up again.

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀 hasn’t had another warm body next to him under the covers in a long time. He doesn’t realize how much he missed this until your body melts into his, one leg swung over his thighs, your arm sneaking around his waist and your head finding its spot in the crook of his neck. His cheek falls softly against your forehead when he pulls you closer, breathing in the scent of you that’s the closest to home he ever felt, pressing kisses on the crown of your head. It’s not just lust–oh, he wants to devour you, but there’ll be time in the morning–it’s the absence of loneliness and unspoken confessions. Higuruma can tell when he’s falling in love and in this moment he’s wading deep, deeper through his feelings for you, biting his tongue so they don’t spill out all over the pillows and into you. You already know anyway, and when the sun comes up again, you’ll lick them from the cave of his mouth like a prayer.

𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀 can’t fall asleep, not on his wedding night, not when your mouth is whispering all those words he’s demanding from you. His cheek is pressed against your palm while he’s pinning you down, almost nuzzling into it like a touch-starved stray, golden eyes lingering on you. Say you’re mine. Again. Say who you belong to. Mine. Mine. All mine. He isn’t aware how pleading he sounds, how raspy his voice gets the more you obey, every time you sigh his name so softly into his open mouth. Naoya doesn’t care if you’re lying, as long as you wear your wedding band on your ring finger for everyone to see. You’re his to keep now, and if he could have it his way, you would be forbidden to leave this bed forever; he wasn’t aware just how much he had craved the presence of another being by his side at night, one who doesn’t leave once he had his share of pleasure. No, you’re his now, and before sleep eventually finds him, he’ll make sure to sink his teeth into you till his name rolls off your tongue like a lullaby. 

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 doesn’t let go of your hand; he’s afraid it’ll go cold if he allows himself to let his guard down even for one second. This isn’t how he had imagined spending the first night with you. Not under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary, not with your body wrapped in gauze and machinery monitoring your heart rate. It dawns on him as he’s sitting on your bedside–how attached he’s gotten to you, then: How he had almost lost you today. He squeezes your hand tighter and sighs, his weary head sinking down on the mattress. Your fingers twitch and find their way into his hair, combing through it weakly. As if they say, it’s okay, I’m alive, you’re not to blame. So please don’t leave and take all your love with you. And Nanami takes your hand once again and kisses your fingertips, pressing promises against your skin, promises of a future where you and him can just be, one where he can finally put all of these feelings down, down in your open and gentle palms for you to keep.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is clingy throughout the day, but even more so at night. He doesn’t like the eerie quiet that settles in once the sun has sunken, not when he can listen to your steady breathing next to him instead, so naturally he feels a rush of joy when you push your futons together for the first time. His heart is beating way too fast to find sleep now, his eyes taking in everything about your sleeping figure, from the way your chest rises and falls to how your nose scrunches slightly for a moment. Choso wants to know what you’re dreaming about, what colors your dreams are, and if he’s ever in them. He wants to engrave himself into your being, wants to keep you wrapped in his arms forever. His kisses feel light against your skin, careful not to wake you but enough to fill his desire. Choso loves you with his entire being, and sleep is merely an obstacle, cutting away from your time spent together–though he must admit, his eyes flutter shut quite easily in your embrace.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 realizes that his idea of ‘sweets in bed’ now has a double meaning, seeing you sprawled out in his sheets with candy wrapping paper clenched between your fist and more of it lying on the floor. Cute, he can’t help but murmur as he lays down next to you on his side, mustering you with an amused smile on his lips. When he told you to knock yourself out on the sweet souvenirs he brought, he didn’t assume you would take it that literally. His thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the powdered sugar that’s still stuck there, and Gojo could swear he never tasted anything sweeter than this when he brings it to his tongue. He gently replaces the trash you hold onto in your sleep with his fingers, woven between yours, and pulls you close to him, his tall figure embracing you; and for the first time in a long time, Gojo feels a wave of calm wash over him, allowing him to exhale and sink into a dream almost as sweet as you.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 doesn’t know why he keeps entertaining your antics. Sharing a bed, sleeping together side by side? How utterly foolish, but as to be expected from a mere human; they’ve always been like this, seeking comfort and warmth when they’re the most vulnerable. Of course a predator like Sukuna wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping safe and sound. Yet still; he can’t help but let his gaze linger on you, wrapped up in his embrace, four arms holding you in place on top of him. Everyone else would freeze in fear, but you? You snore quietly without a single worry in the world, knowing you have a king watching over you in your slumber. Sukuna huffs but still brushes a strand of hair out of your face. Maybe he’ll tell Uraume that you’re off the menu, for now. As long as you know your place–in his embrace, wearing his marks with pride, providing a sense of comfort Sukuna had never known before. Fool, he mutters and rests his chin on top of your head, not sure if those words were for him or you. 

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 doesn’t question when you knock on the door of his dorm room, asking for shelter after a particular nightmare. He hasn’t found any sleep yet anyway. When he lifts up the covers for you to slip under, he’s surprised that you don’t even hesitate to do so, wrapping yourself around his body as if it was molded for that only. Geto can tell that you’re trying not to tremble, but the nightmare still lingers. He knows it all too well. His fingers brush through your hair when he pulls you closer to his chest, as if this could prevent you from falling apart–though deep down he’s aware that he might be the one on the verge of breaking. You know it too, don’t you? Geto is tired, oh, so tired. The kind of tired sleep can’t fix, and he can’t help but wonder if this would also be the last time that you’re in his arms, clinging onto someone who is long gone; a version of him that he shed together with his dream of letting himself love you.

[zerokrox-blog]

Sobbingggg jdlshciskxjjdhf

Final part of Eddie forgetting about Valentine's day!! Part 1 Part 2

Thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this, I hope the ending does it justice!

Eddie doesn’t know how fast he drives, just that he gets to Steve’s place in record time. The big house is quiet, Steve’s car the only one on the driveway.

All the lights are off, and yeah, it’s kind of late, but Steve is almost always up later than this. But even his bedroom window is cast in shadow, and something about it makes Eddie’s heart twist in his chest. 

He slams the van door behind himself and runs up the walkway, almost colliding with the front door when he reaches it. He beats on it, knocking hard enough that he knows the sound will echo through the empty house and up those grand stairs and right into Steve’s room, and he prays to anything that’s listening that Steve will come down and meet him.

“Steve!” he yells, like it isn’t late as fuck and Steve doesn’t have neighbors. “Stevie, baby, come on!” 

He feels frantic, like he’s going to die if Steve doesn’t get this door open in the next ten seconds. 

“STEVE,” he shouts again, slamming his fist into the door, right before it’s ripped open in front of him and he almost goes ass over teakettle through the doorway.

“Eddie, what the fuck?” Steve asks, frantic as he catches Eddie with a hand around his bicep, pulling him into the house and closing the door behind them. He flicks the locks one-handed because the other is holding the nail bat in the kind of absent grip that tells Eddie he wasn’t sure he’d really need it, but he was going to be prepared just in case. “What’s going on?”

“Why do you have the bat?” Eddie asks, like that’s what he should be focusing on, and Steve gives him a bewildered look.

“You’re knocking my door down in the middle of the night, why wouldn’t I have the bat?” And yeah, okay, fair, but Steve sets the thing down next to the front door and Eddie closes the distance between them. “I need to get you a key, that way next time you show up outta nowhere you don’t wake the whole neighborhood - uh–” Eddie takes Steve’s upper arms in a tight grip, interrupting him. “Eds?” Steve asks, looking at him, and shit, Steve looks too fucking cute when he’s confused. His thick brows are furrowed, lips turned down, big eyes all wide - and that’s when Eddie notices how red they look.

Bloodshot, a little swollen, like Steve’s been rubbing at them in that harsh way he does. He hates crying, feels humiliated when it happens, and Eddie’s been a witness more than once to the way he’ll bury his fingers in his eyes like they’ve personally offended him.

He’s pale, a little shaky, now that Eddie’s really looking, lips bitten red and sore.

He doesn't need to ask what's wrong. He's uncomfortably, acutely aware of what's wrong. Instead, he reaches up, laying his hand along Steve's jaw to smooth his thumb over his cheek. 

"Sweetheart," he says, and Steve glances away, gaze avoiding Eddie's. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Steve’s trying to keep his voice light, trying to keep it casual, but he reaches up and wraps his hand around Eddie's wrist, thumb pressing at his pulse point like it's his own lifeline. "Honey, I know what I did now. We don't have to act like I didn't royally fuck up Valentine's day." Steve winces. "Oh god," he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face roughly. He paces a few steps away, looking absolutely mortified. "I was really hoping we could skip this." Eddie follows him with his eyes, lost.

“Skip what?” This isn’t what he expected at all. He thought he’d get here and Steve would be angry, would be yelling. He thought he’d get chewed out, possibly broken up with, was catastrophizing the whole way here.

“The part where you realize and we, like, talk it out.” Steve gestures between the two of them. “We don’t need to do this. It’s not a big deal.” He says it like he’s repeating something he’s said before, and Eddie’s heart sinks, wondering how often Steve has told himself that very sentence tonight.

“It is a big deal,” Eddie says cautiously. Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie cuts him off. “You’ve been miserable for days, Steve, that’s a big deal.” Steve actually rolls his eyes, and Eddie barely bites his tongue.

“We can just move past this, though,” Steve insists, and Eddie approaches him slowly, like a spooked animal. Steve’s shoulders jump to his ears, but he doesn’t bolt away, and Eddie takes that as a win.

“What if I don’t want to move past it?” he asks, and Steve flushes an embarrassed pink, eyes darting around like he’s looking for an escape route. 

He sniffles, raises his hand to pinch his nose, and mumbles, “Please,” halting and quiet, “let’s just let it go.”

“But why?”  Eddie asks, and Steve makes an angry little sound.

“Cause it doesn’t matter!” he snaps. Eddie reaches out then, snagging Steve’s hand and pulling him in close. 

Steve fights him for two seconds before suddenly slumping against him, and Eddie sighs in relief, wrapping his arms around his baby and holding him tight. Steve gives a shuddery little breath, and Eddie lets him hide his face in his shoulder, turning his head to kiss his temple.

“It does matter,” he says fiercely. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Steve makes a quiet, protesting sound, and Eddie shushes him. “Let me apologize to you, you absolute brat,” he says, and Steve snorts a little laugh. “I’m gonna make it up to you,” Eddie promises. “I mean it. And I’m never going to forget about it again, I fucking swear, okay? I’m gonna get February 14th tattooed on my fucking face, I swear to God.” Steve finally laughs, a breathless, squeaky little thing, and Eddie smiles, pulling back. 

“Please don’t tattoo your face,” Steve mumbles, looking at Eddie with a crooked little grin. The expression reaches his eyes for the first time in days, and something in Eddie unwinds at the sight. 

“What, you don’t want me to ruin the moneymaker, huh?” he asks, and Steve laughs again, rolling his eyes. There’s some levity in the air, and finally, the frantic pace of Eddie’s heart slows. "Sweetheart," he says softly, because this is important, because this is on him and no one else but he can't not ask,  gentle and imploring and cupping Steve's flushed cheek to trace the shine of pink on his skin, "why didn't you say anything?" Steve's eyes flick away from his.

"It's stupid," he says, and Eddie frowns.

"What is?" And just like that Steve’s back to being annoyed, shifting in Eddie’s hold. He loosens his arms, watching as Steve starts pacing again. He walks closer, steadily closing the distance as Steve rambles.

"Being this upset! It's just - it's just a stupid day, right, like, we don't need a particular day to show that we love each other, it's commercialized and overdone and dramatic and it's stupid to be upset that you forgot one little day when objectively you're, like, fantastic. So I didn't want to say anything because it's dumb to be so worked up and make a big deal out of it and I need to just get over it--"

Eddie kisses him quiet. Maybe it's rude, but he knows when Steve gets going like this, works himself up, he'll talk in circles for ages. It's a mostly-endearing quality he's picked up from Robin, but Eddie knows sometimes Steve needs him to catch him before he spirals too far.

"No," he murmurs softly in the space between them when they part, lips still brushing one another's. "You do not need to just get over it." Because Eddie gets it, now.

Yeah, it's about the holiday. Steve is upset and hurt and Eddie feels like a total fucking asshole, and he's going to grovel for the rest of his life if that's what it takes. But this isn't just about Valentine's day.

"I'm being ridiculous," Steve insists. Eddie shakes his head, and Steve makes a frustrated sound. "I am. It is. It's stupid. I'm - I'm stupid–”

"Hey," Eddie says, and it's a little sharper than he means, but it works because Steve goes quiet, and the look he gives Eddie about breaks his heart all over again.

It's not about Valentine's day.

Steve is so, so used to not being taken seriously. To being dismissed. To being told to just get over it when he's upset, to being minimized, to the things that matter to him being framed as dumb or unimportant.

As stupid.

He's the strong one. The tank, made to take the hits and keep moving. He shouldn't have wants or desires. He's the caretaker, makes sure everyone is looked after, ensures they have anything they could ever want, goes out of his way to get it for them.

And he's shit at doing the same for himself.

"It's just a stupid day," Steve insists, but his eyes are wet and his voice is catching and he sniffles.

"Oh, honey," Eddie whispers, and Steve cracks, tears spilling over the edges of his red eyes and running down his pretty face. “Oh, sweetheart, come here. I’ve got you.”

They end up on the couch, Eddie holding Steve tight and whispering his apologies into his hair as his baby clings to him. 

“It’s not stupid,” he tells him softly. “You aren’t stupid. You’re allowed to want things, Stevie. You’re allowed to expect these things. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t give you what you deserve.” He repeats his promises and doesn’t let the guilt eat him alive because he might not have been there when Steve wanted him, but he’s here now, and that has to count for something, he knows it does.

He’s here holding this beautiful boy as he cries and he dries his face with the soft sleeves of his sweater, whispering to him that he loves him, that he’s here, that he’ll make it better.

And Steve believes him, thank fucking God. Steve trusts in him, is looking at him with soft, hooded eyes, is pressing his mouth to Eddie’s and nipping at his lips and clinging to him. He’s letting Eddie strip him bare, letting him press him into the couch, letting him make love to him until he’s crying for an entirely different reason, clutching at Eddie’s back and gasping his pleasure into his throat. 

And that weekend Eddie brings his baby flowers, a stuffed bear, a necklace with a delicate silver chain and a small E hanging from it to join with the guitar pick that Steve has long ago claimed. He plays him the song he’d written for him, gives him the cherry chocolates, tells him over and over how much he loves him, and shows him in every way he can think of.

And through it all Steve keeps that sweet smile, and Eddie just knows he’s going to be spending the rest of his life keeping that look on his baby’s face.

Tag list! I'm very sorry if I've missed anyone!  @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zerokrox-blog @m-owo-n @honhonbaguettegofuckyourself @bejeweledbaby @ninjapirateunicorns @snapshotmaestro @ineffablecolors @uwujinniee @munsonsduchess @avacrebs @estrellami-1 @huskysarelife @afewproblems @messrs-weasley @bitchysunflower @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nvybloo @unclewaynemunson @valecitainwonderland @megaweird-2-point-0 @resident-gay-bitch @disasterlia @iwouldsail @tinynebula @ilsewrites @umjamlam @booksandsience @xtkxkrzrizir @trikigirl271 @mistlafey @bornonthesavage @baron-zemo-trash @beckkthewreck @a-random-nerd @bela-valdis @sallybane @dreammetheworld08 @goodolefashionedloverboi @em9515 @newtstabber @callmesirkay @ohwelsh

[justporo]

So you'll see tomorrow

A/N: Seeing a beautiful piece of artwork by @velnna and listening to Half life by Livingston I got a very angsty idea for a drabble (so be warned, it's sad). This idea came to me first a while back listening to Just a Man (you know from *that* BG3 edit). @velnna as always thanks for letting me play with your son - and sorry I hurt him... Also thank you to Dad on Maf's discord server for the inspo for the final line.

Warnings: implied character death (but this is just an alternate timeline ok??), self sacrifice

~~~

So this was it.

This is how they would all die.

There was no way they would defeat the Netherbrain. All their endeavours that led them here, all for naught. Unless…

Staeve saw it in his eyes first. How their expression changed from swimming and hopeless to hardened and determined. Astarion’s brows drew together - the crease they created between them as sharp as his daggers he lifted up once more.

“Staeve.”

He had never heard his voice like this. The tone as sharp as a knife and hard as rock.

It scared him.

“I’m going to create an opening for you. Be ready.”

Fear dug its claws into Staeve’s throat, choking him, as he began to realise what was about to happen.

“No,” the half-drow whispered, weakly grabbing for his lover’s wrists with all of his remaining strength.

“Astarion, no! You can’t do this!”

Panic gave Staeve new power. Helped him to forcefully turn Astarion around to him. Helped him make his love stare into his eyes as he screamed at him again. And again.

He shook him, even making the daggers drop from his pale, blood-speckled fingers.

Staeve kept screaming, feeling his voice become hoarse, hot streams of tears washing away the grime and gore as they made their way down his face.

But as he kept throwing everything at Astarion he noticed ruby eyes remaining hard and unfaltering. The decision had been made.

The last of his strength went with his last drop of hope as Staeve’s hands fell weakly from Astarion’s. His legs gave up, knees hit the ground hard.

And only then did Astarion shift, taking a final step back before making the run-up.

He dropped down in front of Staeve who could only stare up at him anymore.

“Let me do this one thing right, Staeve,” he whispered solemnly, cupping his love’s face. “Just this once let me make things right.”

Staeve’s vision was blurred, his head swimming. But he still clearly saw the warmth in Astarion’s eyes as he leaned his forehead to Staeve’s.

Astarion’s hand wandered to the nape of his neck as he pressed his eyes closed. “Promise me, you’ll live for me, Staeve. To the fullest.” When the vampire opened his eyes again, Staeve was sure there were tears in Astarion’s eyes as well.

There was nothing in Staeve to do or say. He wasn’t in control of anything anymore it felt like. Not even his own body as he solely kept listening to Astarion’s final words.

“And promise me,” the vampire continued, voice breaking, “sometimes - when you sit in the sun - you’ll think of me, Staeve. Promise me.”

Astarion only waited only long enough for Staeve to weakly nod, seemingly the only thing he was still capable of.

Then he crushed his mouth to his lover’s, the motion so forceful their teeth crashed together.

Desperation had them kiss so hard it hurt, that it felt like perishing already. Astarion’s hand on Staeve’s neck pressed down so hard it felt like bones might crush. A single last breath was passed between them as their lips moved against each other as they tried to make this the most vivid moment they had ever experienced.

One so he could never possibly forget this final kiss - how it had felt.

The other so he would go to his end, with the taste of his lover on his lips.

When a small eternity ended and Astarion broke away he grabbed Staeve’s face a final time.

“I know in another life, I would have loved you forever,” Astarion uttered with a smile.

Then he let go, Staeve almost toppling over, suddenly void of anything still lifting him up.

Astarion grabbed his daggers, turned around with a last glance and a smirk - and then he leapt.

[2tarbell]

COWBOY TAKE ME AWAY

you ask your boyfriend to take a look at your engine…

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

rafe was close to losing his damn mind. how was this thing even still running?

he’s not a mechanic, in fact he finds it all too fuckin’ annoying. but when you looked up at him with those sparkly eyes, asking him to fix your little car, he couldn’t bring himself to turn you down.

so there he was, backwards cap on and sweating through his shirt. he’s already smoked two cigarettes trying to even start to fix the damn thing. the mess that was awaiting him under the hood made him shoot you a look, but you simply furrowed your brows and sighed in that sugary sweet voice ‘jus’ dont know what’s wrong with it’.

he was a sucker, maybe. pussy whipped, for sure.

more than an hour had passed and hardly any progress was made on the deteriorating engine. he was starting to get pissed off, your ‘the chicks’ cd having played three times through, the screen door allowing it to be heard from the player in the living room.

rafe looks over at you again, taking in the way you sat on the steps of the trailer, pen in hand as you mumble to yourself about the crossword puzzle between humming along to the music. barefoot and sitting nice and comfy on the wooden plank. oh, the luxury.

you looked so pretty, and he almost dropped whatever tool he was using when he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. he cleared his throat, focusing all attention on the shitty state of your motor.

“baby — what in the hell did you even do to this thing?”

your head snaps up at that, pouting and tiptoeing over to him, paper abandoned on the steps. you ignored his protests of heading inside to put on some shoes, stepping over rocks and weeds. rafe shakes his head and leans on his arms as he stares down the engine, praying to whatever will listen to magically tell him what the problem was.

he sighs when your arm snakes around his waist and turns to press a kiss to the top of your head that rests on his arm. your touch was a brief reprieve from the hot sun and difficult task.

“s’that bad?” you mumble, voice meek.

god, he would do anything to make that sad little tone vanish. but he can’t lie to you, not about this. no matter how much he knows you adore this car.

he hums, giving the engine a once over before looking over at you, “well, it— it ain’t great… gonna have to probably replace most of it if y’wanna keep it.”

the whine you let out makes an amused grin form on his lips. you both know you couldn’t afford to replace even half of it.

“well— can’t y’just— just—“

“ohhh, when did you become a mechanic, sugar?”

he whistles lowly at your glare, wrapping his arm firmly around your neck and pulling you in. the sensation of being pressed against his chest, his bicep pressing into your cheek makes a lick of heat shoot up your spine.

“don’t get an attitude w’me, a’ight?” he drawls into your hair, leaving that familiar heat to settle in your tummy. you knew better but whined incoherently, a babble of ‘but— but— daddy—‘. it might cost you some of his softness, but it was just so satisfying to hear him get just a little meaner.

“no, stop poutin’— dad’s doin’ this f’you on his off day, show some gratitude. there is nothin’ else i can do ‘bout the fuckin’ thing, ‘kay?”

he wished there was more to do for the vehicle, but it was about time. hell, you’ve had that thing longer than he could remember. you never were good at admitting he was right, though.

he sighs and shifts to wrap his arms tight around your waist, lifting you slightly on your toes. your hands immediately find his chest and you lean your forward against him, pouting still as his lips meet your temple. you stare at the car, feeling betrayed by something you considered your baby.

all things must come to end, or whatever the hell the saying is. you honestly found that to be complete bullshit as rafe runs a hand over your hip, fingers lightly caressing the skin between the fabric and your jean shorts. his touch was almost soothing.

“poor sweet girl…” his lips press against your ear, a teasing whisper, “what’m i gonna do with you, hmm?”

you huff, maybe a bit dramatically, and turn your head to gaze up at him. rafe chuckles softly at your expression, if anyone else did such a thing, it might’ve felt patronizing. but not him, not your rafe.

you can’t resist a little grin, hiding your face in his chest. he always made you fold too quickly. he coos and it makes you feel fuzzy all over. with a finger under your chin, he lifts your head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. his are a little chapped and his scruff is starting to tickle your face but you don’t care, needing the comfort of your big, strong man desperately in this moment. his large palms trail down your body to settle and squeeze at your ass.

rafe smiles against your mouth, that tilt of his lips making your own rise. soon enough, you’re giggling and unable to kiss him back. he doesn’t care and presses closer, swallowing those precious little sounds.

he lifts you, hands throwing you up and over his shoulder. he smirks at your squeal and closes the hood with one arm, the other holding you snuggly on his shoulder.

“rafe cameron, you put me down!”

“nuh — uh. think it’s time you thank me, yeah?”

with a smack to the swell of your ass, he walks up the three steps to your shared trailer, already planning on taking you to shower with him. the screen door shuts with a slam and your laughter echoes into the dusty streets of your little neighborhood.