#she really does

[twin-azure-dragon-wave]

[majikuriboh]

"what pisses me off is that shoko did not give a rats ass" and yet she smoked a whole pack of cigarettes because she was worried about Satoru and it makes it even worse knowing about the swapping brain plan.

[h3llh0ound]

“A full moon is this week…yeeey :)”

[pertinaxism]

you all think jace is dramatic about snow wait until we get viserra out there 

[traincarsandstars]

Bailu casually clinging to Lingyun as they leave...

@rvinfall

[littlegalerion]

Orin: I have Lae'zel, and unless you do as I say, I'll kill her~!

Moon: I would have already killed her.

Orin: *squeaks in hurt honeybadger noises* Y-You have no idea what it's like to work for this! Coddled by your butler-

Moon: Actually, you're just shit at your job. Ya see, that was my last loose end. If you had actually properly spied on me, you'd know that. She would have given me trouble if I don't rescue her Prince. Thing is... I'm quite fond of The Emperor. I plan on sprouting tentacles myself. Lae'zel would have been an ugly and awkward mess to clean up, as I highly doubt she'd sway under any persuasion.

Orin: ...

Moon: Now all I have to do is kill you, kill Gortash, ditch my father, become an all-powerful mind flayer, and live happily ever after with my autistic wizard husband.

Orin: ...

Moon: *leans in* You suck at your job.

Orin:

[lokisgoodgirl]

I was getting ready for work and I just thought about the time you told me that you could tell I knew my way around a dick. And I was like ⬇️

🤣☠️

I Love you so much! ❤️😘

I love you too 😆❤️

[dckweed]

baby, i will be anything you want me to be

this is so goddamn cheesy and i fucking adore it loml may

[throwbacktears]

obsessed with the way she says ‘sshhtEWWWWpiiDDD” in love is embarrassing. ABSOLUTELY felt that.

[decimatlas]

🌪 Eden. :]]

Send me ‘ 🌪 ‘ to catch my muse in the middle of a violent breakdown. Throwing things, breaking things, yelling…

One might consider it a kind gesture – a merciful gesture, even. The removal of beds gone cold, freeing the space of the painful reminder of those she lost. But does this gesture accomplish such a thing? Does the removal of those four beds – the addition of a desk and chair – provide her with any sort of ease?

Objectively? The room is emptier than ever. It's bare, with her bed on one end and a workspace on the other. So why... why does it feel... full? Heavy? Eden clenches her fists; her eyes fixate on splintered wood, and she feels a rage bubble up within her.

That desk. That fucking desk.

If Josie was beside her in this moment, she'd tell Eden there are plenty of reasons they could've done this. Perhaps they needed the beds. Maybe they wanted you to feel more comfortable. They know you're not sleeping.

They. They. –– No. Eden knows who is behind this. It goes without saying; there is but one man who could arrange to have something done so quickly, so tactfully. It's as if he is commanding her through this new arrangement; one bed – she's alone now. She has to accept it. And a desk – get the hell back to work. Orders from her Commander, without a word uttered. Erwin Smith is a devil in the details.

Eden inhales sharply; boot-laden feet all but drag themselves across the room. The air is dense – ghosts whirl about her. They've once more grown in ranks. Faces loved and lost. They already begin to blur. She can already feel herself losing the way they looked – the way they sounded. They are shadows in broad daylight, once lounging on the beds that remained. But now?

All she has is this goddamn desk. 

She approaches it now, circling around, and she finally looks upon what the Commander had left for her. Pens. An inkwell. Notebooks. Candles. Matches. But her eyes focus on one item in particular. One item she'd held in her hands plenty of times, but always stored it under the pillow where it found its home: Eld's unfinished wood carving. Half a horse, never to be completed. It stands upright on the desk now, purposefully placed.

There's something about the way it is placed that infuriates her. As if whoever placed it took the time to position it beside the candelabra, to greet her when she sat down.

Eden bends down, fingers gripping the block of wood on the backend of the project. She holds it in her hand for a moment, staring down at it – and the rage bubbles up again. It rises now – it boils over – and...

❛ Fuck you! ❜ There's no one else in the room, yet Eden yells out, her hand sweeping across the desk and sending books and pens clattering to the floor. Her inkwell rolls off the desk, spilling out onto wood. She's cursing all the while, seeing red as her boot rises to kick her chair across the room.

Fuck him. He who tells her to get back to work without a word spoken – the Commander who forcefully ends her grieving. She, who has never taken time to grieve, having that taken from her too. It doesn't matter if he's right. Devil, puppeteer, he pulls the strings for all things – and he's forcing her hand now.

And she doesn't break down in defiance. She doesn't break down in a rejection of the gesture, the command. No – Eden breaks down, trashes the room that is now hers and only hers, because she knows this has to be the end of her grieving. This has to be the end of a thing so utterly human. She has to move on. Get back to work.

So this is it – her one last act of grief, and it burns like a fire within her. It burns as she shouts. It rages like a fire as she clutches the remaining piece of her friend in one hand; as the other reaches to grab the candelabra. She spins around, throwing it with force at the singular bed across the room.

And as it crashes – clatters to the floor, her door creaks open.

❛ Fuck off! ❜ She shouts before she can even register who comes through the threshold now. It's an instinct – she's a wounded animal; she can't be seen like this.

She can't be seen with such profound grief in her eyes, blinking away rage-filled tears as she clutches onto the carving for dear life. Her beating heart is in her hands.

But the door clicks shut – Captain Levi stands before her now.

Eden freezes. He's seen her right after the loss – the only one to see her tears – when they found comfort in each other's presence. But he looks now upon a wild animal, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she stands amidst the whirlwind of her rage, a wreckage of her grief.

Yet she doesn't say a word.

Her nostrils flare, her lip quivers – where a tear-filled gaze once avoided the Captain, her eyes now bore into his.

Fire, ice, rage in her heart. It's all out in the open now.

She holds the wood carving out to him.

[woednesdayaddams]

though she’s a pink kind of girl herself, jessica knows that valentine’s day is all about expressing your love in a way that the other person can receive - so she has a little black heart-shaped box with her, filled with charcoal-colored truffle chocolates. though she only offers it over to wednesday after she’s leaned in, gentle little peck of the lips. “happy holidays!” well, she’s got the right spirit.

️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️𝔙alentine’s  day  was  nothing  else  but  a  pagan  ritual  with  a  past  that  stood  in  contradiction  with  her  own  values.  she  didn’t  pay  much  attention  to  what  others  were  muttering,  finding  their  topic  of  conversation  unimportant  and  not  worthy  of  concern.  that,  until  jessica  approached  her.  she  stood  there  petrified,  not  a  limb  moving,  a  reaction  springing  from  pure  shock.    ❛  i,  uh,  ❜    words  couldn’t  be  formed,  her  mind  also  falling  victim  to  whatever  petrification  curse  had  been  cast  upon  her  soul.  the  kiss  however  brought  her  back  to  reality  as  soon  as  dark  lashes  fluttered  open.  it  was  similar  to  fairy  tales,  only  that  when  it  involved  wednesday  it  had  a  darker  twist.    ❛  thank  you.  ❜    at  last  she  vocalized,  unblinking  stare  fixated  on  her  dazzling  girlfriend.    ❛  i  did  not  bring  you  any  offering,  but  i  can  guarantee  you  my  limited  appreciation  for  as  long  as  i  breathe.  ❜    a  way  to  pay  jessica  back,  give  her  something  in  return.  if  wednesday  uttered  a  promise,  then  she  intended  to  keep  it.  ‘twas  an  unwritten  law  of  hers.

[mo0nbunnies]

She looks like my girlfriend!!! :3

Ms pibb🐕🎨🖌️

(they/she)

[willabee]

she checks the floor vents every day to see if the furnace is on yet and today was the day :)

[thechekhov]

this one goes out to everyone who has an M sized dog with an L sized bark.

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[hinamie]

10 years later