#so I'm creating more than ever! and I'm beginning to learn to be happy creating for the enjoyment i get as I'm doing it.

[misslovasstuff]

''To Sanji...''

summary: Your point of view on how you feel about Sanji. author's note: this is a little series I am starting ''To (character)'', sort of like love letters to characters. No warnings. Also, please support me here and commissions are always open!

I hate the way people make me feel. I despise the prejudice and the motherless rage. But...

''What would you like for dinner, love?''

I hear your sweet little mutterings throughout the day.

''You are mesmerizing, have you ever been told how beautifully your eyes change under sunlight?''

I sense the genuineness of your smile, of your every word.

''Don't fear a thing, I'm here with you.''

I get enlightened with every gentle caress of your hand. I am in awe of the way your anger is never directed at me but is born out of every harm that comes my way. I catch myself surprised whenever you look at me with such a softened gaze. Where have you learned to be so gentle?

''You're not hurt, are you?!''

I admire your bravery and strength, but I completely crumble at how helpless you become when you see me unwell, how you lose your usual collected composure, and how, ever so rarely, I see pure fear in your eyes.

''Look, I made a flower crown! Yup, it's for you, come here...''

Scarce is the way you express your affections that run so deep within you. Like Braille, I am a victim of my blindness, so much so that I need to touch the alleys of your soul to understand the flow of your love.

''Feel this, - he places your hand on his chest, heartbeat evidently fastened. - this is what you do to me.''

My cheeks blush whenever you allow yourself to be romantic. It flusters me to be loved with such intensity. What do you see in me, Sanji?

''Has the heaven created a more beautiful soul than yours? Tell me.''

I hate the way people make me feel, that is true. But you ...

''Wait for me! You're not going to leave me alone, right?''

... I love how happy you are to see me every day. I love your view of the world and the way you talk so enthusiastically about your dream. When you prepare my favorite dessert, keeping me company when others do not even notice my presence, eyes wandering around a room, and brightening up when they meet mine. I love the way you have with words, your respectful demeanor, your need to protect and serve the ones you love...

''I'd set the world on fire if even a thorn cut deep in your skin, my dearest.''

And I hate the way I can't give it all back to you.

''Don't ever risk your life for me like that again, please.''

I hate how I can't give you all that I am. I hate how I feel like I am not-

''You are so much more than enough, love. You're so much more...''

I hate how I crumble in your arms with tears in my eyes that you wipe away. I hate how you have to deal with all my insecurities and the mess that I am.

''I love you the way you are, my precious, my precious winter flower...''

But despite all this, my heart calls your name, Sanji. It desperately needs you to pass another beat and another breath. No matter how much I hated everything, and myself, I could not hate you and the way you make me feel. I could not possibly hate the way you care for me so selflessly, the little lovey-dovey notes you leave for me throughout the day, and the gifts you get me with every chance you get in order to materialize that ethereal feeling of yours as if I did not understand it.

Instead, your love is so strong that I have found pieces of it within me. I stare at my reflection in the mirror and smile like a fool when I remember you complimenting my eyes. I accept my shortcomings and the little details of mine that make me special.

Tell me, how are you willing to love someone so strongly, that they begin to love themselves too?

''Hold my hand forever, okay?''

I'd spend eternities with you, with each day being greeted by your warm smile and going to sleep with your soft pecks on my skin.

I hate the way people make me feel, and I love how your love makes that amount to nothing.

[burningcheese-merchant]

I NEED MORE BURNED CHEESE CONTENT, could you please feed this poor hungry soul some burning cheese kids? Imagine the SUPER protective burn during Golden's pregnancy, or, or helping her with the children's dough (and already planning the next children)

The kids will be here soon, I promise :( they're at school right now, Spice and Golden have to go pick them up. It won't be too long. (I have something important to do irl and that takes priority. I'm hoping I have time at the end of this week to sit down and try to draw them. Everything else is ready, their characters sheets are done, got their whole lives on lock lol. All that's missing is to put them on paper. I only have about half a gram of artistic talent so I'll really be pushing myself here... but I want you all to see them really badly, so I'm happy to do it haha)

I don't have to imagine anything, I'm already there with you, buddy :') I hc them as already married by the time the kids come along, and yeah... Spice is SUPER overprotective lol. Very, very gentle and doting, but fiercely protective and downright hostile towards literally everyone else as a consequence of that protectiveness. He won't leave her side unless absolutely necessary, and he'll be snapping at whoever forced him to leave her and then rushing back to her as soon as he can. (She feels kind of claustrophobic at times, because he literally becomes her shadow during those 9 months lol.) But really, he's at her beck and call from beginning to end. She's craving something? He gets it for her. She's sore? Hugs and massages and nice baths. She's tired? He carries her to bed and doesn't allow anyone to bother her for any reason for the whole rest of the day. She can't sleep? He's up with her all night, talking to her and soothing her and doing whatever he can to lull her back to sleep because she needs all the rest she can get. He's Peak Husband during this time lol.

(He's just... beyond happy. I also hc this as being after Spice has redeemed himself and been accepted back into society, but still not having 100% let go of his dark past (which he never truly will, you can never fully forget something like that, unfortunately). So really, he takes this as one of the greatest rewards for his change of heart that he's ever gotten, and as a sign that he really has become better. The day Golden came to him and told him she was pregnant was the best day of his whole, entire life. He fell to his knees and cried when she told him. Not only has he managed to forsake his destructive nature and instead create something, but he's engaged in the most profound act of creation there is: he helped create a life. And he created this precious life with the woman he loves, who helped kickstart his journey to redemption in the first place. It just shows how far he's come, you know? From a cruel tyrant to a beloved king to two peoples... from a bloodthirsty psychopath destined to live and die alone to a much more even-tempered man who has atoned for his sins and learned to be a good friend and person again, as well as became a beloved husband and father... still a force for destruction, but now in a positive way, not a negative one. It's been a very long road, but it really feels like he reached the end, and this victory is sweeter than any he's had before.)

...And same thing if they're cookies, honestly lol. Peak Husband. Burning Sweetheart Cookie here, jumping for joy when Golden tells him she wants a child. He goes hunting for a Witch Oven of his own accord, going to quite literally every corner of the earth until he finds one, then they go to it and he's just like a kid on Christmas Day lol. They're making the batter together and he's just grinning that big, pointy grin he's got, beaming like the sun. How much of his dough should they mix in? How much of hers? What will happen, what sort of child will they create? Golden thinks he's so cute lol. He won't even sit still while the kid is baking in the oven; if he's not pacing back and forth in anticipation, he's picking Golden up and swinging her around and smothering her with kisses, and going on and on and on about how great the kid will be and how they'll be a fine warrior just like him and Golden. He's yanking the oven door open as soon as that timer goes off and they both hear crying... she has to tell him to slow down so they can both take the baby out together (he was so excited that he was just going to do it by himself lol)

TL;DR: The woobification of Burning Spice Cookie on this blog is complete, he is now Burning Sweetheart Cookie, reformed villain who loves his bird wife and their babies with all of his spicy heart

And to feed you a bit of extra content (and to keep everyone on the edge of their seats), I shall feed you a bit of information about the kiddies:

There are two of them, a son and a daughter. The son is the older one by a few years

I did research and took inspiration from both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for their design and some of their personality traits (I will explain this in detail soon. I actually really enjoyed learning about these religions, even if for a ridiculous reason, and I look forward to rambling about all the little bits and pieces of myths I cobbled together to make these two lol)

Each one resembles a parent quite a bit (but I will not specify which child looks like which parent yet)

One of them has wings like Golden Cheese does

Something really bad happens to the son in the future

Here are their soulstone descriptions, because yes, I really did go above and beyond creating these little guys lol

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. It feels warm and light, like a rare, refreshing breeze on a desert morning... But is that a single grain of self-doubt, nestled deep within its core?"

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. Though it burns very hot and bright, and feels difficult to handle at first, the kindness and unyielding strength resonating from within are nevertheless unmistakable."

[vroomvroomwee]

I don't think enough people realise how incredible Aziraphale is.

He's always known how good and kind Crowley is. Even from the beginning. Now imagine being in his place, after meeting such a wonderful and sweet angel, and hearing that he's fallen, that he's evil and wicked. No wonder he was sceptical and on edge at the garden... except Crowley was still the same, chatty, witty, and funny angel he met before the beginning. Crowleys fall terrifies him because in his mind, if someone like that can get sent to Hell, then what hope is there for me?

So he learns just how thin the line is between being an angel and a demon, just how close he's cutting it, just how little it takes for him to fall as well.

In his eyes, Crowley's brilliant. He's resourceful, intelligent, capable, everything he wants to be. Everything he's told he should be. And it creates so much confusion in his mind. How can someone like that fall while I'm still here? And it doesn't help one single bit that he's falling in love with him.

Aziraphale isn't stupid. Despite what everyone says, he's very in tune with his emotions. So much so that Crowley fails to keep up with his logic and decision-making. He realises that he's falling in love with Crowley, and that causes panick in him. He's an angel. He's not supposed to fall for temptation.

So he has two options: try to prove to himself Crowley's good and therefore justify his own feelings, or to prove Crowley's evil, and that's why he fell. So... in a way, he does both.

Every time Crowley tries to convince him of his malice, Aziraphale proves him wrong, sees right through him. All the while constantly putting a wedge between them, of good and evil. "But, you, are fallen." "I'm good, you, are evil." Even though he knows deep down that's not the truth, which is precisely why he's saying it, he knows Crowley is good, just as he knows he himself isn't fully. And no one must ever find that out.

Not only is he keeping Crowley at a distance for his own safety, but also for Crowleys. Sacrificing both their happiness for each others safety. He knows precisely what Hell will do to him if they ever find out how kind he really is.

And it would be very very simple if he just stopped hanging out with Crowley, except... he can't. No matter how hard he tries he's always pulled back to him. And over time he's testing his limits, what can I do? Am I allowed to do this? Food? That's forbidden? The Arangement? etc.

And you can't really blame him for fearing Falling. Not just burning in boiling sulfur as each of his cells is being transformed in the most agonising way, but also having to spend eternity there as well as the humiliation and resentment he'll get from Heaven. "My lot don't send rude notes." he knows how horrible and terrifying it is down there, and he is all too aware how he won't be able to cope. Too weak, too mellow, too soft.

Crowleys kindness is constantly putting him on edge because he just can't understand why he's a demon. While angels like Gabriel and Michael, who always put him down, are apathetic towards humanity, are narcissistic and emotionless... are still up there. 6000 years he's spent wondering when his time will come. When he'll be pulled down to Hell.

He's so goddamn kind that it took him 6000 years to realise Heaven is not all that it should be. Kinder than Heaven could ever hope to be (and after the "stay back" from ep6 we can see how thay he is capable of being harsh and ruthless, which means he actively chooses to be kind, which makes him all the more extraordinary and astonishing for it). And I'm not even going to go into the strength it takes to manage to break out of the brainwashing that Heaven has done to him. Thousands of years of being humiliated, feeling worthless, not good enough, not angelic enough, not even appreciated. And despite all that feedback and ridicule, he's never given in, never relented, never let anyone modify or change him, has never lost his kindness, his softness, his generosity even after all that he's seen and been through. And that is so fucking incredible.

Validation and praise being at his fingertips, if only he could let go of his individuality, his uniqueness. Of himself. Thousands of years of it, and he has never surrendered to it. Never betrayed himself, kept his pride and his self-worth despite other people trying to rid him of it.

And he knows this. He's too clever not to. He knows just how thin the ice is he's standing on. Even at the beginning, which is not long after the Fall if I might point out, he's defying orders and keeping Adam and Eve safe, risking his own safety for the safety of others. And he still doesn't back down.

But he can't for the life of him keep away from Crowley. Because of how much love he has for him, how much affection. "He's risking his entire existence," and he'll do it again because that's who he is. (Not many people will put their lives on the line for the person that tried to annihilate them, completely destroy them in every plane of existence. Actually, no one ever will. Except him.)

He. Never. Backs. Down. Not from Armaggedon and not from the Second Coming.

It's not that he doesn't love Crowley enough, it's that he loves him too much. This is an angel so full of love that he's scattering himself, breaking himself, tearing himself apart, trying to give it to everyone. To Crowley, to humanity, to Earth. He's risking destruction for the things he loves. Both physically and emotionally. He would sacrifice his own happiness, his own future with Crowley just to save humanity. And he does it again and again and that is so fucking amazing, so fucking incredible that I don't believe such a selfless character exists in any other piece of media or television.

(Also, this is all mostly referring to his emotional strength, but let's not forget how he faced literal Satan and smote around 20 demons in just a matter of seconds.)

Edit: Just wanted to add what one of you pointed out in the comments.

Aziraphale realises that running away with Crowley isn't really a relaxing and peaceful life as Crowley thinks it is. Far away from humanity and it's pleasures that they both love and engage with, something that brought them close in the first place due to their shared love for it, and constantly on the run from Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale is doing this for Crowley, so that he can be happy, so that both of them can be together. Not only that but he offered Crowley his angel status back, since he thought that would make him happy again, since he hoped that he could one day see that same smile that Crowley had when they first met, that smile that he hasn't been able to bring back all these years.

Aziraphale is now in Heaven, the last place he wants to be, the place he barely escaped with his life from, a place that hates him, filled with angels that despise him and want to see him suffer or worse, and he's utterly and completely alone.

He's trying to save the entire universe alone.

Think about that for a little bit.

Edit 2: I think it's worth noting that Aziraphale isn't perfect. And that's the point. He doesn't need to be perfect. He's naive and gullible and sees the world in black and white. He still needs to learn, to grow, to deal with these things. Soon enough, he'll realise that despite all the hope he has that he could fix Heaven, it just can't be mended, something Crowley has learned a long time ago and desperately tries to shoe him. He'll realise the system is corrupt, and no matter how hard he tries, it won't change because it wasn't designed that way. And it just makes him all the more brilliant. He isn't perfect. He has flaws, and he makes mistakes. He's an angel, but he's the most human of them all. And he's incredible all the more for it.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

ugh this is horrible news tommy is still around, hope to god he's gone in the finale. v

Maybe in your world Nonnie, but not in mine and I'm not entirely sure why you felt the need to come and complain about it on my blog, but here we are!

It makes perfect Narrative sense for Tommy to still be around in the back end of the season, and even possibly into the start of season 8. The show is telling a story of Bucks bisexuality, so why woould they get rid of Tommy so quickly? To do so would do a disservice to that story - a massive disservice. I'm guessing you're hating on this relationship becasue you see it getting in the way of Buddie, rather than viewing it as a vital step on the route to Buddie.

Lets put it into simple terms - Buck figures out he's bi and then begins to explore that newly discovered aspect of himself. The show has also taken the time to move Buck from someone who didn't really do relationships (of the long term variety), into someone who is looking for love and looking for forever. But in amongst all of that, he hasn't really had a healthy long term relationship, the closest he had to that was with Ali and that one didn't last especially long and she wasn't around for most of it

Buck isn't ready for an endgame queer relationship right now - he is still to immature from a relationship perspective - especially a queer relationship perspective. If Eddie was available and he and Buck got together - as they are as characters right now, they wouldn't last - they're not in a position to do so successfully. And this isn't me suggesting that they need to have figured everything out before they get together - to have fully healed etc, because thats neither realistic or something I would want to see - what it means is that they both need to get to a point where they are in a healthy enough place to put in the work together, understand each others flaws, and their own flaws and proactively work towards overcoming those things together and as of right now, neither of them are - they are getting their and moving rapidly in the right direction, but Buck needs to learn a bit more, and in many ways learn how to be with a man, before he will be ready to start anything with Eddie.

The growth we're getting to watch Buck go through right now - in the aftermath of the lightening strike, his reckoning with his mortality etc and the fact he's now off the hamster wheel and moving forward - in a healthy and faster way than we've ever seen from him, speaks volumes.

Tommy is also a far better developed love interest than any other love interest we've seen Buck (or indeed Eddie) with (Abby excepted but she was a main, so had her own purpose on the show)- I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling like I know Tommy more after 3 episodes plus what we got from the begins episodes he was in, than I managed to ascertain about Taylor or Ana or Nataila etc!

Not to mention, him figuring out he's in Love with Eddie as part of this process is going to be fun to watch. The show has made no bones about re-enforcing at every. Single. Opportunity how close, how entwined and how important Buck and Eddie are to one another - the show has quite literally been prioritising that over anything else Buck and Eddie related - Buck was there front and centre - placed very much on an equal footing with Shannon and even Eddie himself in 7x01, and then Eddie was the centre of Bucks bi arc in 7x04 and in his coming out in 7x05. They are literally moving chess pieces into place to tell an amazing story of queer love in later life and creating an epic slow burn for the ages.

And finally, Eddie is, as far as we know at this point in time, still in a relationship with Marisol - why shouldn't Buck get to explore who he is and what he want's within a relationship rather than sitting pining on the sidelines - that isn't healthy in any way shape or form. Eddie still has stuff to figure out about himself.

Even Tim and Oliver have stated in interviews that this is about a happy and joyful queer experience of figuring out bisexuality and therefore within that is giving the narrative a romcom vibe. But they have also stated that Tommy isn't going to be around for that long - that he is very much a narrative device.

It is worth pointing out that timelines on various aspects of the narrative may have been shifted because of the season 8 renewal - but that is only going to help tell the story because now it doesn't have to be rushed. I'm still fully expecting some form of feeling realisation from one of them by the end of the season (my money is on Buck), setting up for season 8 and Buddie going canon either 8a finale or early into 8b.

You have every right to dislike Tommy if thats you jam - have at it, but don't come to my blog and expect me to agree with you. I'm not a multi shipper by any means - I'm a one ship kind of gal and I will be a Buddie shipper until the end of time, but within that, I am here for amazing storytelling and amazing queer storytelling - the like of which I've not had the privilege to watch on my screen before - especially one that hits so close to home. Its a really important story to tell and I'd rather it not be rushed.

And if you had to pick - I'm pretty sure you'd rather have Tommy around for a bit longer that Marisol!!!!

[localgremlinboy]

I finally did it: creepypasta redesign/reimagines!

As a huge longtime horror dork, I have a soft spot for creepypastas and have wanted to sorta reimagine a few in sort of a "connected horror movie universe" type of au!

Starting off our series is the infamous "smile killer" of the mid 80s, Jeffery Woods. As a child, his alienating or odd behaviors created a rift between his parents that only grew as time passed. In an undisclosed tragedy, an unknown attacker killed both of the parents in the Woods household. Both children are put into foster care but it seems like death only follows Jeff, much to his intrigue. Most regard him as a freak, a role he steadily leans into as he gets older. This eventually cumulates into a breaking point and horrific incident involving blood, violence, and face scarring burns. While his face is forever scarred, a familiar forbidden smile now feels stuck to his face; for the first time in his life, Jeff is happy. The smile killer is born.

This is a silly personal project I've been wanting to do for a while now and I'm really excited to start off with Jeff! He was the first stinky internet horror story I ever read/was exposed to and he was half the inspiration for the idea!

This is a silly personal project I've been wanting to do for a while now and I'm really excited to start off with Jeff! He was the first stinky internet horror story I ever read/was exposed to and he was half the inspiration for the idea! (also my cute style does no justice, he's got more burns. I think he'll start with just chemical burns and later gets lit on fire in his life)

Please check out down below for some more sort of au/background info and ideas I have as well as my inspiration!

(BEN's sheet is next, then I plan to do EJ. I've got ideas for others if anyone has someone they'd like to see :) )

Some extra background/extra info!

Jeff becomes a prominent serial killer in the 80s, mostly breaking into homes and killing but his MO can vary. One this is consistent though; Jeff carves a smile into all of his victims pre or post mortem.

His younger brother (I'm calling him Louis rn but I don't have a sheet for him) was young when their parents died and was eventually separated from Jeff in foster care. He was raised in a comparable home but his demons continue to haunt him. After coming to the realization that Jeff is the smile killer, he begins desperately hunting his brother.

Jeff eventually crosses paths with his brother and kidnaps him for an undisclosed amount of time. It ends when Louis escapes his binds and manages to overpower Jeff. Brought to his limit by his brother's mental and physical torture, he begins to turn the tables on Jeff and starts carving a smile into his face. Before he can finish, Louis is kicked off and Jeff escapes. Both scarred and forever connected.

Jeff later finishes his smile on his own.

Later on meets and becomes partial allies with EJ and BEN

(undecided but I think the event that pushed to Jeff's snap involved Jane. either way, she's gonna be in this)

also some extra headcanons I have

My Jeff has eyelids probably (I dunno, I've never liked him not having eyelids)

Weird anomalies are unspokenly drawn to him. Jeff gets along with ghouls way better than he ever has people

Jeff only smiled as a kid when he was doing fucked up manipulative shit, it was the biggest warning sign

Also plays the knife game all the time, has fucked up his fingers doing it and didn't learn his lesson

His parents knew Jeff was off from an early age but it was a point of division for them. (I'd say his father believed these were correctable behaviors but his mother more so had that, "I know something is wrong with him" kind of feeling that no one really listened to)

Jeff is not being influenced/manipulated/used by another entity to do evil. He is a bad guy w/ his own issues and despises the idea of people writing him off as "damaged and used" (Jeff's a bad dude with a rude tude)

At a certain point, Jeff starts to have this existential terrifying doubt that he's not human anymore & has become something else

He's a fan of rock & hair metal (he'll die before he cuts his hair)

Inspirations

Charles Lee Ray & Chucky in general

80s Hair metal & rock groups/aesthetic

80s slashers

[holdmytesseract]

Eyes on You

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Request: "* hi babe, can I request:

daryl x female reader, where she is about eight months pregnant where they are both laying on their bed, she's already tired and with some contractions.. and daryl is the sweetest man and treats her like his queen? giving her all her cravings, kisses, hugs, caresses, absolutely everything! sorry for my bad English, i'm still learning 🙂🥺

thank u my love 💓" - Requested by a nonny! 😄

Summary: Daryl doesn't leave your side, when you feel not very well at eight months pregnant.

Warnings: fluff, pregnancy things

Set in the beginning of season 9!

Word Count: 1,5k

a/n: This request is sooo cute! 🥰 Thank you, nonny! 🧡

Tagging: @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni @lokisgoodgirl @goobysgoobers @fuseburner

MASTERLIST

"'M not goin' to help at the bridge today." Daryl stated, biting the inside of his lip. "Y/N ain't feelin' that good today. Gotta be there for 'er and don't wanna leave 'er alone. 'Specially not now." The archer's best friend nodded, occupied with saddling his horse. "'Course, Daryl. Make sure she's feelin' better." Rick said, then turned to face him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You can stay with her for as long as you need. We will manage without you. You've got way more important things goin' on here, than at the bridge." Daryl nodded. "Thanks, man." "No need to thank me. This is your wife - your family." Rick started, mounting his horse, "Now off with you." and gave the man a smile, before he gently nudged the horse's sides, riding down the street and towards the gates of Alexandria.

Daryl made his way quickly back towards his and your house, not wanting to leave you alone for long. Stepping through the main door, he immediately called out for you, while taking off his heavy boots. "Y/N?" He received no answer, so he made his way down the hallway and turned left, stepping quietly into the bedroom. When his gaze met your sleeping form, he started to smile softly. Right where I left 'er, Daryl thought. He tiptoed over to you and pulled the blanket back over your body, making sure it covered you entirely - not that you'd start to freeze. A wave of pure love and happiness rolled over him, when his hands brushed your clearly visible baby bump. Well, at eight months pregnant, there was nothing left to imagine. Daryl's smile even widened and he couldn't stop himself from resting a hand on top of your big bump. Feeling the life underneath his palm he and you created never failed to amaze him. Quite a few years ago, he had nothing but a broken home - and suddenly he had everything. All he ever needed. When he met you - right at the start of the world's downfall, it was like finding the missing puzzle piece. You made his life complete; were the most important person for him - and now you gifted him the most wonderful gift a life could offer. A child. Of course, was the man utterly anxious and nervous about this; not wanting to became a horrible father like his father was, but you reassured him; told him that he wasn't even able to become just like his old man. He was still nervous - but way less than at the beginning of your pregnancy. Although, his anxiety started to increase so slowly once again, due to the fact that you were not far away from giving birth. He would never not worry about you or about his kid.

Breathing out deeply, the archer leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead - not to wake you, before he left the bedroom again, letting you sleep. You definitely needed the rest. Especially today. You were tired, felt worn out and had immense back pain. This, combined with Braxton Hicks contractions was no fun at all.

Daryl went into the kitchen, deciding to make you something to eat. He knew that when you woke up again, you'd be hungry for sure. The archer maybe wasn't a starred chef, but he was definitely able to make you the meal you were craving the most since last month... Porridge - or well, a simple, fast and not super fancy version of it. You called it 'Daryl's version'; Daryl called it 'simple cooking'. Heating up milk with oats until the things were boiling wasn't exactly difficult. Bless Maggie for the cow she gifted Alexandria. After the deed was done, he put the porridge in a small bowl, ready for you to eat. Just when he was about to cut a few fresh strawberries - much needed vitamins - for you to eat alongside the porridge, he heard the familiar sound of the comfortable house slippers he got for you on a run, approaching the kitchen. "Daryl?" Your frame appeared in the doorway, still looking a bit sleepy. One hand of yours was resting underneath your protruding stomach; the other was steadying your lower back. The man quickly turned to face you, a smile on his face. "Hey, sunshine. Ya awake again already?" A yawn escaped your lips, as you nodded. "Uh.Huh." Daryl bridged the short distance between you and him; came to stand in front of you. "You should go, lay down again. Ain't good fer ya to run around. Ya know what Siddiq said." He said in a gentle, caring voice, placing both his palms on the sides of your belly and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled tiredly at the affection your husband was showing. You loved those small gestures, touches and kisses. "I know, baby, and I promise you that I am going to rest again, but I smelt you cooking something my tummy would like to eat..." Daryl couldn't help himself but to snort out a laugh at your words. "'Course you'd notice me, cookin' porridge for ya." You just shrugged your shoulders, smiling. "Pregnancy seemed to heighten my sense of smell." "Seems so, yeah... Got a better scent than a dog by now, smellin' from miles away, when someone's cookin' porridge." "Hey!" You slapped his shoulder playfully, giggling. "Wha'? It's true, innit?" The man replied with a boyish smile. "Yes, it is." You said, sighing dramatically.

"C'mon, off back to bed with ya now." He nodded towards the door. You pouted. "But my porridge..." Daryl rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Ain't goin' to run away. Lemme throw a few strawberries on top of it and then I'm goin' to bring it to ya, yeah?" Your eyes lightened up. "Breakfast in bed?" "If ya want to call it that..." You smiled and wrapped your arms around his broad frame, before interlocking your lips with his for a sweet kiss. "You're the best."

After Daryl had finally made it to send you back into bed, he finished your porridge and carried it into the bedroom, for you to eat. "There ya go, sunshine." You digged immediately into your latest craving, munching on the milk-oats mix with delight. "Mmmh." You hummed, taking another spoonful. "Thanks, baby, you're the best. Nobody makes porridge as good as you do." Daryl scoffed, "Ain't that difficult to make porridge." but smiled softly; clearly flattered by your compliment. He watched you eat, made sure you ate enough. After all, you had to feed the baby as well...

When you were finished, Daryl cleaned up everything again for you. "Anythin' else my woman needs?" You shook your head, smiling and reaching out your arms. "Just you." "Ya sure?" "Mhm. C'mere. Lay with me, please." Who was he to deny his pregnant wife this request? Daryl stripped off his angel-winged vest and laid down beside you. You immediately snuggled close to him - as close as the baby allowed it, resting your head on his chest. Daryl slung his arm around you and placed his palm on your belly, gently caressing the clothed skin. He was the happiest man on this planet right now, having everything he never thought he would have right here in his arms. "You comfortable?" You nodded against his shoulder, "Perfect." already dozing off. Being pregnant clearly took its toll on you. After all, your body worked flat out. Especially now, mere weeks before the birth.

Just when you were about to enter the dreamland once again, a sharp pain sizzled through your lower abdomen, causing you to hiss. You grimaced, hands cupping the underside of your bump. Daryl noticed it instantly, of course. His body stiffened, as worry and fear took over his system. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He turned on his side to face you; frantic blue eyes met your Y/E/C ones. You breathed through the pain - just like Siddiq told you. "'S okay, baby. Just Braxton Hicks contractions, is all." "Ya sure? Do you want me to get Siddiq?" You nodded. "Yes and no. I'm okay. Please, don't worry. " The archer was still looking at you, now shaking his head. "Impossible. Ain't no way 'm not worried. I always am. 'Specially now, knowin' you're about to give birth in a few weeks..." A soft smile graced your lips at his sweet behaviour. He was so protective and caring - you absolutely loved him for that. You placed both your hands on his chest, rubbing your palms up and down in order to reassure him. "I know, but we're fine, I promise. Kiddo just wants to prepare me for their appearance." Daryl scoffed, but started to smile. "Our kid is scarin' the shit outta me with this. Gives me almost a heart attack every damn time, letting me think you're goin' into labor..." You giggled. "Gods, I love you so much, Daryl Dixon." Another scoff. "I love ya too, sunshine - and this lil' asskicker in there as well." Your heart almost bursted out of love at his words - and you couldn't help yourself from pulling your man again in a sweet, loving kiss. The first of countless more.

[kattythingz]

Believe it / I'm in love and I mean it / Her name's Penelope and I need her to be mine

And the epic brainrot continues... This time thanks to yet another TOO DAMN ADORABLE animatic that I just had to redraw edling to, with the wonderful collaboration of @sirchenchen!!! She did Ling's design (that I had to crop WAY too much of... Full version under the cut) and I did Ed + the bg. Chen also does other art on her account so y'all better check her out 🔪🔪

Au details nobody asked for under the cut~

Ling has been the youngest king of Xing for some years now, and his council is nagging him to find a bride now that he's turned a very mature sixteen. There are many things Ling can and has fought his council on—but they won't budge on this specific matter. Thus, Ling resigns himself to opening his hand for neighboring nations.

Xerxes is one of the many nations to hear of this opening, so King Hohenheim drags his own children to the event in hopes of cementing an alliance with Xing. Al goes along with his father's will, ever the polite boy, but Ed is far from happy.

Right off the bat, there's a bit of a misunderstanding, as Xerxes arrives in their fanciest whites for the occasion... unknowing that white is Xing's mourning color. Ed is the only one to refuse to dress up like the rest, so he compromises with a fancier cut of his favored red-and-black instead.

This creates a laughable confusion as people assume Xerxes suffered a great loss. Only the First Prince seems unbothered, dressed boldly in colors not of supposed mourning.

Ling, bored out of his mind already, is naturally piqued by this rebellion, and he's compelled to talk to the First Prince—Edward—before the rest of the suitors.

("Wait. Are you saying you're only talking to me right now because you thought I was an insensitive jackass spitting on someone's grave?!")

("That does seem to be the case, yes!")

... Ling doesn't think he made the best first impression.

Edward's brother is much less of a riot, though perfectly pleasant. All the suitors are. They just... don't interest Ling. Not as much as Edward had just in that single conversation. Edward doesn't even participate in the bridal events, skipping every time in favor of hitting the town, chatting up the locals and learning their crafts. Or just finding the largest olive tree in the palace gardens and settling down to study in its shade.

Ling is in love.

Desperate now to right his wrong with Edward, Ling beseeches Athena help him court the boy of his dreams.

It's then that Athena so kindly reveals that Edward is one of the rare few scholars personally blessed by her. Xerxes has always been close to Athena, worshipping her moreso than the other gods, but Edward and Alphonse's minds are especially sharp, she tells Ling with an almost smile gracing her lips.

(He was almost made her champion; she's watched him long enough consider it. Upon further observation, however, he proved a little too soft-hearted.)

She supposes this wouldn't be such an awful union to see through. One of her brightest scholars, wedded to her chosen champion? The results oughta be fascinating, at least.

No amount of godly advice could save Ling from fumbling those first few wooing attempts, of course. But Ling is nothing if not dedicated to a good cause. And Edward might just be the best cause there is.

He's absolutely not subtle as he, too, begins sneaking away from the bridal events to seek out Ed and "run into" him several times a day. The locals have watched their young king grow since he was but a sunspot of a child. And that look right there in his eyes is positively moonstruck.

(Or perhaps... sunstruck is more appropriate to say?)

They wish their king the best of luck. Judging by Edward's impressive scowl at the mere sight of him... he has quite the challenge ahead of himself.

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

🫂 Solomon x Fem! Parent! Reader || It's Going To Be Just Fine, I'm Not Going Anywhere Pt2 🫂

~

Word Count: 3, 180 words

Scenario: Solomon spends the night holding you in the only way he knows to really comfort you in the situation between you and that ex husband of yours.

Includes: possessive Solomon undertones??

Thank you for commissioning me and being so patient with me and your story! I hope you enjoy it and I want you to know how powerful you are mama! Keep fighting, you got this! ✨

~

As much as you didn't want to, you just couldn't seem to hold back the tears.

It hurts, so, so much and all you can do is be angry… frustrated and annoyed.

Oh course he lied, that's all he ever seems to do damned bastard but you being upset doesn't seem to change anything.. to change the fact even though you were so highly upset. The court had even been dumb enough to listen to him as many did in cases like these when it came to a man's word over a woman's when kids were involved.

You didn't know why it was set up that way but you did know that the feeling in your chest was strangely similar to actually being torn apart from the inside out.

You had spent so much time creating that child; your beautiful and loving son and you couldn't even begin to explain how the whole situation now felt like a part of you was forcefully being ripped away from you.

You didn't want to always put it on Solomon; to always have a reason to break down but of course Solomon never regretted being at your side.

Even now; so sob into his chest and Solomon breathes carefully through his nose and back out.

He's so incredibly pissed off.

He hates seeing you like this; seeing you go through such a rough time because of some failure of a man and Solomon was convinced he had enough reasons to actually put your husband down like the dog he is. He tries not to because he knows you still care, at least to an extent and though he's a powerful sorcerer Solomon has been refraining from actually hurting that man unless you gave him the okay.

That doesn't mean he hasn't been doing things though. At times going off and looking into crystal balls, analyzing and picking at the situation in ways to see what exactly could he do and oh was there so many things.

Though hurting him… horribly is on the list, Solomon takes his time with these things. He takes his time with these things; sending over spirits to torment that man in every which way as well as keeping an eye on your baby and it's a long process but Solomon is a very patient man and he's willing to watch your ex husband for as long as he needed to if it meant keeping your child out of harm's way because… Solomon was now his father as well.. and to be honest, that made him even more protective over you and your son.

He's upset about this situation just as much as you are.

It's not fair.

It's a thought that's come to his mind many times before and I'm his lifetime Solomon has learn that realistically many things weren't fair but that's exactly why he had taken this path, exactly why he was who he was because Solomon was a deeply passionate man.

He rubs your back as the two of you sit in bed, the blankets tossed down to make more room and you had woke up so upset that the windows hadn't even been drawn but something about that was fine because the way that Solomon held you while rubbing soothing circles in your back while you helplessly hiccuped made you feel young again. As if you yourself was a child in need of support and attention and care and Solomon was more than happy to give it to you. To give you anything and everything. He's warm, so warm as you grip his shoulders and nuzzle your head a bit closer and you a choked sob falls from your pretty lips. Solomon enjoys the closeness, the warmth and the arms around you managed to pull you even closer so he could nuzzle you back.

Why is this so hard?

It's something that's been on Solomon's mind. It's another reason why he'd simply prefer getting rid of this ex of yours but you were already going through so much.

He hums, it's a low sound that rumbles in his chest and his shirt is wet with her tears but because it's her he doesn't mind, not at all, not ever.

“I'm sorry..” he says in a careful whisper as he continues to hold you, holding you ever closer, hands gripping a bit at your shirt.

He feels like it's his responsibility. As if that he's not doing enough to help and it's slowly but surely tearing him apart and digging at him. All he wants to do is see you happy, to see him happy.. your son… and Solomon felt that ever since he watched you come down that isle and stand before him in that brilliant and lovely gown dress to say yes to spending the rest of your life with him that he was meant to protect you two.

He just wants it all to stop sometimes, just for this to be peaceful and not have to worry about these things but for now this was their situation and though it drove Solomon mad; he was going to go through it with you, by your side. Just as he had promised to do so.

His voice makes you let out a shaky breath, face lightly lifting from his chest the brush you cheek against his shoulder and simply rest against him for that moment. It makes you feel bad, as if maybe… this whole situation could possibly drive Solomon off? You couldn't quite explain it yet but it was a thought that had settled snugly in your gut months ago, possibly ever before you knew anything about Solomon but still… he was here so you were also very grateful. Your voice is wrecked and your face is all red and wet.

He clutches you even tighter, hugging you like you'd vanish and disappear right before him if he didn't.

“All I ever thrive to do is take care of the two of you.” He breathes, taking in your scent and tracing your skin. You pull back, breathing shakily and he looks at you with eyes that are so soft and amiable.

“I… hate seeing you so upset my love…” he admits, a soft smile playing one his lips only moments after as his hands slowly move; running up from your back and instead moving to carefully cup your cheeks, those cheeks that he loved kissing so much and of course that's what he leans in to do first. Taking the time to slowly move in and start by swiping his thumbs slowly under your eyes, catching those tears and cleaning that beautiful face of yours even though his actions on seem to make you heart ache a bit more. It's really not a big deal, no matter how many times you cry he wants to be able to catch those tears. To wipe them away, kiss them, love on you in every possible way until you didn't hurt as much.

You slowly move your own hands now, trailing them up his arms carefully until your palms cupped his own, holding his his as he held your cheeks.

“I.. love you so much.” You say softly, sweetly as you gently rub his wrists and knuckles and then move to kiss the inside of his hand. Your lips are warm and Solomon watches the scene was baited breath. He didn't even realize he was blushing.

“Please… don't beat yourself up about it…” you whimper softly right after and Solomon halfheartedly scoffs at those words because he knows you're saying them because you hate that ex of yours so much…

“I love you too… I've always loved you.” He says back, and honestly Solomon has never felt like he'd be so in love that before that he'd be this investive. When he had been younger he had a few interactions here and there that could have possibly been something but when he crossed your path he specifically remembers carefully glancing at you before stopping and calling out to you. Solomon had been so charming, introducing himself and then asking you about yourself, curious to know anything and everything all of the sudden and he had ever surprised himself back then but as he held you now and looked you in your eyes here and now he knew that no matter what happened he'd never regret coming to you and deciding to fall in love with you.

“I'm supposed to care so I will and I do.” He says firmly and it makes you shake just hearing how much he means those words.

Solomon never seemed to be the type to hold his tongue on these kinds of things.

His words make you sob harder, your hands gripping him and squeezing him closer and Solomon doesn't argue at all.

He holds you for a while longer and honestly Solomon was willing to hold you all throughout the night if he had to, all throughout eternity if you allowed him to. He could start now right? Of course he could, anything to make you feel just a bit better. With a soft sigh he looks at you again.

“I know it most likely won't stop the pain my dear but how about we take a moment to breathe?” He says with that soothing voice of his and you shakily sniffle against him as he continues to gently rub and wipe your tears away. “Let's take a moment to calm down and ease our nevers, and then… we can talk about it some more after you've calmed down a bit. Its… difficult to focus when you are stressed..” He continues to speak and though it hurts so much you can't help but find the idea one to look into. You didn't even particularly care about what you and Solomon did as long as it eased the pressure in your heart even just by the tiniest bit. He looks at you expectantly.

“I'll help you.”

He says it so carefully and sweetly as if he's talking to a small rabbit and trying not to accidentally scare you away but you manage to crack the smallest of smiles even through your tears.

“Okay.”

You agreed and at that Solomon hums lightly in approval before gently pulling you out his lap so that he could be able to get up out the bed instead. Once standing you see what he's wearing, something loose and comfortable as he doesn't enjoy sleeping in anything too fitted. Solomon moves to walk around the bed as you sniffle and move to follow his movements up until he's now standing on your side of the bed where he then holds out a hand to you, offering it so you could take hold of it and the way his eyes look at you it's enough to make you breathe a sigh of temporary relief. The look in his eyes are always so honest, as if Solomon had nothing to hide and it's hard not to acknowledge it especially considering how many people seemed to have so many things about the sorcerer himself. Solomon was like one of those animals that you had to spend time with before he opened up, a lot of time, and your ex has fucked with your mind long enough…

You needed this.

And so you reach out with a smooth palm and take his hand in your own and he's as warm as he usually is but you’d never get tired of feeling his skin against your own. You smile weakly at him and Solomon returns the smile though his is just a bit bigger as he slowly pulls you from the bed and you don't argue and fight with him, climbing forward before eventually planting your feet on the floor and standing up with him.

Solomon hugs you close when you actually get to your feet, wrapping his arms around you to giving you a big bear hug and really the fact that Solomon was such a sweetie like this was the exact reason you had managed to fall in love with him in the first place. The exact reason why when you had officially started a relationship with him you wanted to actually be free from your shitty ex so you could live like a happy family like you had always wanted and dreamt of doing. A family where you and your son could both feel as loved as physically, mentally and spiritually possible…and Solomon had shown up like a gift sent from the gods themselves and spun your world right on its head. He was so wonderful, so perfect, it was something you realized in those little moments where it had just been the two of you. Moments like participating in after school activities together, talking about spirits and the unknown…moments where you two say together and spent hours talking about the future and what was to come of it.

You loved Solomon, and for quite a while now.

You let out a little laugh as he takes your hand and his and leads the two of you to the bathroom that was just feet aside, switching on the light and eagerly taking your cheeks once more and placing kisses on each one.

The plan being for you to bathe with him now, to get cleaned up... Freshened up. Maybe even eat something right after that before cuddling the night away?

The second definitely sounded more pleasing. And it seems like both of you agree on it. To help the other feel extra cared for and loved for tonight.

The bath feels far greater than you thought it would. You don't know if Solomon used some sort of magic that made it feel like each and every ache were nothing but tickles along your skin but you loved it nonetheless. The hitched breaths and gentle whispers led to his lips running over your skin, hands helping bathe your body.. the body that he loved no matter what it looked like. He can't care less, never cared to begin with and Solomon could admit that at times when he looked at you all he could think about was just how inappropriate his thoughts could get sometimes.

He loves you far too much.

He even wonders how you'd feel having another baby at times.. but immediately after the thought formed his brows furrowed in irritation as that ex husband of yours came back. He really wonders what you'd do and or think if he brought up those thoughts out of everything else but instead… he runs his lips along your shoulders and caresses you. Massaging you while soap bubbles of all sorts form over your skin.

He just wants to be with you and your son… and he doesn't exactly mean to but out of slight frustration he grunts and it catches your attention, making you perk.

“W-What’s wrong?” You'd ask, hands moving to gently trail along his own and Solomon sighs.

“You know what's wrong… he's annoying. Infuriating.. I just don't understand sometimes why others have to be so stubborn about these things…” He actually explains and you don't mean to but you manage to huff out a laugh. As serious as the conversation was and could get, knowing that Solomon cared so much about his own future with you and your son was enough to make you feel like you were melting against him as the water ran over the both of you.

“Are you pouting, my dear?” You ask softly as he presses kisses to your skin and Solomon huffs this time and you grin feeling the pout form on his lips.

“And if I am?” He responds and oh you really do love him more than you can even bother to describe sometimes. More than the earth and moon in the sky and so many times you find yourself wondering where you'd be without this precious man in your life.

When the shower is over you smile at him with soft eyes, the warm water having made you just a bit drowsy and after everything all you wanted to do now was go to bed. Hold Solomon against you; cling to him like some sort of needy koala perhaps and whisper the most gentle and tender things to each other before falling asleep in each other's arms as if the other was worried their partner would just vanish from their hold if they didn't. He has similar thoughts, a little grin on his lips as his hair seems to stick to his naked skin, water droplets running down his frame and he dries off with you. Helps you clean up the bathroom before drying off together and getting dressed in comfy clothes before heading out the bedroom this time to head down to the kitchen and get something nice and filling. It's a calming experience; being so warm and you actually found yourself being more drowsy then you had thought you'd be after that shower.

It's noticable; you nearly dozed off eating your meal and Solomon chuckled warm heartedly because how is he not supposed to find you so cute?

He takes his time helping you because yes you may be sleepy but Solomon is a persistent partner, one who wants to actually make sure you're fully and completely satisfied in everything that the two of you did together. When you are finished with what you eat the two of you take the time to clean up a bit here as well. Talking to each other and simply being in each other's presence and once done turning off the lights to head back to the bedroom and oh are you ready for it. You both are.

The second you both seem to get all comfy under the layers of warm blankets and comfort items Solomon doesn't seem to waste any time before carefully wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in so close that there's not an inch of space between the two of you. His touches continue here, gentle running his palms over your arms, your stomach, your hips until you can't help but get lost in touch and the touches. Your eyes rolling and then fluttering, a weak attempt at fighting the urge to just completely doze off here and as expected you many to lose the battle. Though, not without whispering how much you loved him in the quiet darkness of your room and Solomon resist chuckling when he feels your breath grow deeper signifying the fact that did lose the battle between staying awake and sleep.

You're so cute.

Solomon hums lightly before letting his own eyes flutter shut; hugging you and breathing in your scent.

Dealing with your ex husband was definitely a pain in the ass… but Solomon knows just how strong you are. How brave and intelligent you are… and though he's here to help and support you the whole way along this path he knows just how powerful you are and he wants you to know the same.

[askew-d]

today i had an idea. that recess therapy channel, but make it wangxian.

teacher lan wangji, who recently adopted a-yuan, carried out his son’s desires to create a youtube channel interviewing other kids. he’s totally inept at it in the beginning, but fortunately his brother helps. and who would've thought? his son ends up making friends and he really finds children’s minds fascinating.

until their channel gets quite big. like, two million subscribers kind of big. other people interviewing him kind of big. and soon enough, his brother says, “wangji, huaisang wants to be part of one of your videos! he said it looks fun!”

nie huaisang didn’t have a large fanbase without reason. he was a well-known digital influencer with over ten million followers and a good writer. though lan wangji finds him odd sometimes, he accepts it. it couldn't bring any harm.

famous last words.

after nie huaisang, a lot of celebrities wanted to join in. lan wangji imagined it was for that facade of selling a good-hearted image inside the industry, but as long as a-yuan seemed to be enjoying, he continued.

in the two years he had the channel, he progressed to five million followers, hosted many top-tier artists along, interviewed hundred of kids — some more enthusiastic than others, that’s rather true — and received some proposals from famous entertainment companies to work with them, which annoyed lan wangji.

he continued being a teacher, a father and a host content creator for long, and one day, his son was checking his emails with him and jumped in excitement, “baba! look, look!”

lan wangji looked. it was a request from a certain wei wuxian’s agency, that, he later discovered, was one of the singer’s a-yuan and his close friends have been listening to lately. apparently, his rock band was very influential internationally, and when having a tour around china once more, he wanted to join for a video (why would his thirteen-year-old a-yuan be interested in rock music when humanity had the classical ones, he could never imagine).

lan wangji accepted, because again, it couldn’t do any harm.

well, maybe he should learn more about that expression, since wei wuxian was absolutely infuriating.

he was just a handsome, dauntless man in tight black pants and an oversized hoodie with the shiniest smile he has ever seen who got his son's favour in just minutes of conversation and could not, for the love of god, stop teasing lan wangji. lan wangji shouldn't be that affected by someone. he shouldn't be affected by the way he didn't care about social manners and plastered himself on lan wangji's side all the while he interviewed the kids as if they were intimate, but oh, what one shouldn't do truly wasn't how one acted or felt.

he found out that wei wuxian did have a good voice, although he secretly thought that he wasted it with those loud songs about rebelling against the government. he found out that he was exceptionally careful with children, withholding a balance of fun and wisdom; he had that carefree creativity and treated their worries with seriousness, struggling not to let them think he judged them childish. lan wangji was truly amazed at his character, and soon, they had recorded about four videos together.

and when it was all uploaded, the comments and views exploded. people focused more on them together than on the kids. it became the most viewed videos of his channels in no time.

"lan zhan, the numbers are growing each day! i'm so happy for that," wei wuxian said on the phone afterwards (when he proposed the idea of exchanging numbers, lan wangji was hesitant, but wei wuxian insisted that it was for them to share bunny videos, so he gave up on fighting the man, but weeks passed and they still talked more about their lives than just sharing said content). "but tell me, lan zhan, i think my amazing presence did bring some touch to your channel, won't you treat me to something as a sign of gratitude? you told me your family had a rule on being polite..."

they did have one. lan wangji told him once and it was enough to be engraved on wei wuxian's mind. he sighed and said, "mn. does wei ying want to have dinner with us tomorrow?"

wei wuxian laughed in apparent joy, and he shook his head slightly. it would be good to have someone over for dinner once in a while, beyond his brother. maybe he'd even buy some wine and meat for him, just as he said he liked.

lan wangji talked to wei wuxian some more, the other explaining about how his band would perform the upcoming sunday. they also talked about children, books and traveling. and on the other side of the room, a-yuan giggled in mischievousness.

[darwinquark]

Okay the Halloween chapter had me foaming at the mouth. Another masterpiece. You never miss! I love when third parties like Anne get introduced in the mix just to create tension between J and V. Like girl was flirting so bad but all Jughead seemed to notice or care about was Veronica eek I love it. Please gimme more party scenes I beg. I actually live for Veronica quite literally bringing him to his knees like atta girl you go ahead and get what you want 😭

Also what jeronica/colemila fics from @thefudge do you recommend?? I'm invested now

ah, so glad you liked it! the party atmosphere was def a departure so v happy it worked for you. and yeah lol Jughead's two main modes are being a little bitch or being Veronica's bitch and that's just where we've landed these days.

as for jeronica/colemila fics by @thefudge, WHERE TO BEGIN!

first of all, I am utterly obsessed with her cursed colemila series in all of its unflinching oozy toxic glory. Cole is human sleaze in this and Cami makes horrible decisions and the two of them just keep metastasizing in each other and it's honestly romantic in how unromantic it is

kiss and (don't) tell - the classic, the OG, the primordial fix-it/what if fic when Betty and Archie kissed and everyone was obsessed with the idea of Jughead and Veronica leveling the playing field with a kiss of their own (and then...)

bakunin and broccoli - the fact of the matter is I would die for Seymour Lodge-Jones and he'd definitely let me. this my actual canon of them as elitist parents who are sickeningly in love and dote on their sociopath son when they're not too busy annoying him with how horny they are

teen idle - a darker take on high school writer Jughead with big stalker vibes but I live for the tension of him swearing he studies her because he hates her but also obsessing over her in this very carnal way

barrels - another post-Barchie fix-it/what if fic where Jughead and Veronica go on an impulsive road trip after the cheating reveal and it's really sweet and poignant and more than the writers would ever give them in canon

honestly, I could keep going and end up recommending all of them because flo is genuinely such an inventive, fearless, and exquisite writer and I feel like I learn something about writing every time I read anything of hers, but I'll lock those down as my faves. she's prolific beyond belief though and has so many other fics, so if what you're after is her more cursed stuff, I'd say look beyond the riverdale scope to her more recent works (in particular her Paul/Irulan fic which deservedly blew up the Dune fandom and her most recent Taylor Swift RPF which made me go 'jesus CHRIST' out loud at least five times. she's also got Amelia/Andrew RPF which I've yet to read but is on my list because I'm sure it's wretched and spits in the face of all that calculated chemistry).

[spiribia]

i'm looking at old school documents i have saved through my email, and here was a letter i wrote to myself in middle school as part of an English class assignment. the intent was it would be redelivered to us when we were graduating high school

It is very awkward to begin a letter to yourself. You don’t know where you are in x number of years – graduation from high school is not even really something that you think about as of now. You don’t know what to say because it’s weird to think about changing, and you don’t want to say anything that will make you sound the same.

So here’s a compromise: if you respect me, then I will not embarrass you.

It is actually more of a psychological thing going on and I am just trying to sound really smart, which should be pointless enough to prove that I don’t have any ill intentions.

I honestly don’t know what could be said to you; apparently when we grow up we are suddenly wiser and therefore any piece of knowledge I can impart to you is rendered– quote unquote – useless. But remember that I am older than you think, and you are younger than you think, and we are not that far apart in terms of years, seeing as time is a concept that humans created, and without that we are just floating in the void, and then I become you.

Middle school is a deeply unhappy part of life. It is two out of five stars. Would not recommend. Seeing as you have already gone through, it I find little necessity in reiterating any points about it; you had teachers, they tried to teach you things; the American schooling system, as refined as it tries to be at times, is flawed; you learned things for the sake of doing well on tests instead of retaining information, and largely succeeded in doing so. Middle school, among other things, made you a deeply unhappy person. I don’t know how you feel, because I suffered from nostalgia and the general ache of living three years ago, and I thought it would be over with by now. But it is now quite evident that the human brain is prone to only holding onto things that the body wants to dispose of. If you are still very much a sad, lonely person that I am now (I bet that you are) and even if you are not – I hate to say this, but you are loved. And if that in itself does not suffice, some stores sell cheap candy, and there are books in the world that you have not read and movies in the world that you have not watched, and by now you may or may not have a cat or something (congratulations prematurely), and even if you do not you have managed to live through high school, and you are off to college now, and you are about to grow up and experience all the parentless freedoms of living in a dorm and having people not tell you what to do. Is that not absolutely terrifying?

But it will be fun.

So, yes – I hope that you are happy. I cannot guarantee that you will be, but maybe something changes in your life, and you are, and maybe you have a cat or a dog or a horse, but a bird or two will do. Maybe those little baby turtles that can both fit comfortably in the palm of my hand, have grown up by now. There’s a book I’m writing, and the protagonist is a girl named Valerie, and I don’t know if I ever finish the book or if I start a new one, and if it sounds terribly juvenile to you now then I apologize, but it is the best that I can do. If you’re still working on it then you are most profoundly a slowpoke. Go get something done.

And maybe you’re not a writer. Maybe you end up in engineering or marine biology or zoo keeping, of all things; maybe you find your roots in mathematics, if you want a plot twist. What I’m trying to say is that this is totally strange and I have absolutely no idea what happens in the future – it’s all up to you while you still have the choice. It’s strange that you grow up and it’s strange that one of these days I will be old, possibly older than you. And maybe this letter never gets to you; maybe something happens and it ends up lost or read by someone who never was meant to read it (if that is the case, hello) and maybe you burn it as soon as you get it because you can’t stand my little childish voice because perhaps you’ve developed so much that you are suddenly beyond these things. Bear with me for a moment.

I am fascinated with the little things that could have happened and might have changed a lot of things: if I said one sentence off in a conversation, which way it would have gone. Maybe these things are the little parts that make up life, because it’s choked with more choices than you or I even realize, and I hope you’ve chosen the right ones, or at least the ones that make you happier. Instead of sitting on the right side of the bus all of the time, try the left. Of course you don’t take the bus and have not taken it in years, but it was something that took up a massive part of your academic life, little did you know; I have not even stopped taking them by the time I am writing this, but tomorrow is Friday, and then I will never ride a school bus to school again.

People tell you to live life to its fullest. That does not mean you live it to the standards of other people. You do not have to live through action and travel to every town in the world. You can sit in your room, and eat an apple, and like its taste and really, that is all. I wrote this as a bet into the future. I feel like I am talking – it’s strange to describe – to someone that I desperately want to impress. I was so disappointed in past reincarnations of myself that I am afraid that I will disappoint a future Self, and I feel inclined to make these last ties while I still can.

That is actually partially a lie. The real reason I wrote this was because my English teacher made me. It was a homework grade and I have likely already written a letter addressed to a future self in other parts of the year, so you are most likely about to see a good bit of me around. I am not completely dead. I will be with you always, whether you like it or not, so you might as well.

But once you get these letters, I’ll establish first: I am not dead. I am gone. You have taken my place. I don’t know in which direction you’ve taken it, but you’ve taken it nevertheless. Perhaps there’s still a part of me left, but really, only time can tell; there are always haphazard, oddly collected parts of people, and who knows if I am one of them.

Personally, I’m really excited to see where this goes.

Sincerely, You / Me / Us

[aurakisses]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ⋆

fireworks were always brighter when we were together.

Mafuyu did not have a passion.

It wasn’t something she ever cared about. Her mother always preached that passions took time away from one's true goals in life. And it wasn’t like she had many of those either. Mafuyu was vague when she answered; elusive when asked about her plans for the future. "I'm going to medical school," was the mantra she told every peer in a disarmingly innocent way.

In her seventeen years of life, she learned that people feigned their interest, and with a quick, short explanation, she tended to rid them of curiosity.

And what was the point anyway? Her entire existence depended on whether she passed the entrance exams, and then her mother would take care of the rest. There was nothing she found passionate about her studies.

Yes, of course, she was part of the archery club, but it wasn’t because she liked it. A sliver of her conscience knew she joined out of obligation. Her mother was only looking out for her; she wasn’t as strict as her friends thought. Mafuyu was lucky that she was allowed to attend extracurricular activities in the first place, even if they were just a facade to keep her obedient. She was not that naive.

No. Mafuyu hated archery. She didn’t go to the club because of ambition. She only needed it to meet educated peers and create connections who enriched her culturally and challenged her academic prowess.

People who were completely opposite to Kanade.

Mafuyu didn’t tend to admit it, but Kanade was the only reason she went through with life. Her mind still remembered the flames that blazed through her chest when she heard one of her songs for the first time. It was one of the few times she believed someone finally understood her, and that's why she found the courage to compose a song with the same effect as Kanade's. She tried to replicate it with OWN; that fiery feeling that made her understand that she was not the only one who suffered and that there were more people like her.

But Mafuyu learned it was impossible to achieve it by herself.

After she told Niigo she found her true feelings, long after she said in SEKAI that her greatest wish was to disappear, they all reacted carefully, walking on eggshells in case they said the wrong thing around her. However, Mafuyu had been so close to happiness and closure that she didn’t care about anything else except her friends. She still remembered how Mizuki smiled when harmonizing the song created from Mafuyu's emotions, the way Ena tried to mask her tears by wearing a vexed front, and Kanade—

Kanade’s pale hand reached out to hold hers, a small gesture that didn’t go unnoticed amidst the music, and gifted her a smile that made something coil inside her lungs, something that grew even more intensely than when she was with the group. A feather-light touch, fingers curling hesitantly around hers, "You are not alone anymore, Mafuyu."

Those words brought her to an emotion resembling relief, her eyes stinging with the dawn of tears; she had to grip that hand to stay upright. Mafuyu blinked at their entwined fingers, then peered into her friend’s hyacinth eyes, dumbfounded. Her heart always fluttered when she remembered how Kanade ceased her smiling to stare at her with a furrowed brow.

Mafuyu's mind had gone curiously blank that day, but she needed to see that smile again. It was a scorching sensation, a needy ache that expanded along with the need to hoard that heat-like water that might slip through her fingers. Somehow, she replied, "No, we're not," and in that moment—that one, single second; it was true.

She never did stop replaying that scene in her mind like a worn-out videotape, the desire to keep the warmth emanating from Kanade burning.

In retrospect, that had probably been the beginning. And the end.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Even if Mafuyu’s recollection of events remained fuzzy most of the time, a part of her acknowledged that she used to smile before.

By day, she pushed those thoughts away. She did her homework; and attended cram school. They would consume her later; for now, she needed to focus. Some memories had been crucial to getting to the point she was at then, and they were the only ones that had not yet turned into nightmares.

But at night, when she dreamed of smiling, she woke up with the cloying stench of amaranth, a stinging, suffocating ghost pain of thorn-filled vines around her windpipe, and the pungent taste of roses on the tip of her tongue. And yet, she decided to fall asleep again, if only to keep that odd feeling they gave her alive.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Mafuyu and Kanade became friends before they met in SEKAI. They had known each other for a long time, speaking on Nightcord at midnight sharp. Or rather, listening to Ena and Mizuki argue for most of the evening. It was annoying at times, wanting to work on new songs but threading around the possibility that they would end up talking about mundane, everyday things that frankly left Mafuyu with the desire to rip every concord strand out of her scalp and toss them inside the trash.

Her seat creaked from under her, and she still didn't say a word.

Mafuyu had a tough time understanding why people willingly decided to waste time instead of getting to work. Miku said that's what friends are for, and while she did enjoy spending time with the other members of Niigo, Kanade's demo still wasn't done after a week, and that was enough time to spare, especially with her practice exams so close by.

"Shut up, Akito!" a door slammed shut, almost cutting off the call, and an unknown voice groaned from Ena's screen. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm the better cook!"

"I don't know, Enanan," Mizuki added with a hint of hesitation in their voice, "Your brother makes delicious pancakes… way softer than yours." A groan, "You shut your mouth, Amia! As far as I know, you weren't invited to this conversation!"

"Well, it's hard not to when you're yelling two feet from the screen…."

If Mafuyu had a brother, she would have agreed with him and moved on. Why waste her breath with a meaningless discussion? It wouldn't be the end of the world if she lost the argument over something that meant nothing. But Ena wasn't the same as her; Ena was defiant, and it was evident that she didn't like to lose, much less when it came to Akito and Mizuki. Today was one of those days where Ena refused to keep her mouth shut, of course, and she wouldn't let it go that easily.

Mafuyu envied that about her. Even though dealing with Ena was a pain the majority of the time, and most days, she had to find many ways not to offend her, just to avoid awakening the monster, she thought it was an admirable quality to have. Her passion and her pride knew no bounds.

And well, the more she listened to Ena, the more she tensed up. It was ridiculous to take notice of the different emotions she was capable of hoarding inside. Mom, Ena, and Mizuki made her feel things, even though none were the same.

"Honami…"

Kanade's voice sailed through her bedroom, relaxing her body completely, and the sensation was so strange that she had to shut her eyes and take a deep breath before saying anything.

The silent anger that ate through her body had completely dissipated, and she didn't have the strength to continue trembling. She found it curious how Kanade was the only one who could make her snap. When it came to Kanade, the emotions from Ena, Mizuki, and Mom were amplified to extreme levels. It was like she could make her experience all of them at once.

Mafuyu smiled to herself, bright and beatific. It was something she usually did at school not to look disinterested. Ena often commented on how creepy her face got when she did this. She said it showed her straightforwardness, lack of tact, and bluntness when asked for feedback. She didn't usually give much thought to it until they started working together. To call her straightforward was not a bad thing, per se, but Ena and Mizuki tended to differ. Plus, there was no reason to make such a face now. No one was judging her from behind the screen.

But she still did it, only for Kanade to hear her grin.

"Did you say something, Kanade?"

"Oh, it's," she trailed off, awe filling her voice, "I was thinking."

There was silence for a minute. Even Ena and Mizuki fell silent upon hearing Kanade. And knowing them, both probably felt guilty for arguing.

"Honami makes the best pancakes."

The way she mumbled, soft and barely breathing, made it sound almost inaudible; in a little girl's way, whispering about a crush in her class.

Mafuyu whipped her head towards the chat with wide eyes. A prickle crawled up her spine, and she swallowed nervously. Her heart skyrocketed, a feeling unlike anything she could name. It was much more gut-wrenching, something that made Mafuyu want to curl up into a ball and clamp her hands over her ears. Squeeze her eyes shut to block out the world. It was awful, vile, horrible. It was beyond her comprehension.

"You're always thinking about Mochizuki," Ena griped, chortling. "You really care about her, hm?"

"Yeah, with how much you talk about her, it sounds like you've been married for twenty years!"

"Married…?"

For some reason, Kanade's question nearly forced her to crush the computer mouse with her bare hands. It was strange whenever that happened. Mafuyu wasn't one to sense things; it wasn't worth it. But still, her chest tightened. Just the thought of Kanade getting married to someone who wasn’t her…

Why did it make her so miserable?

"That sounds nice."

Somewhere far, far below the surface, Mafuyu could feel something within herself shut down. She could almost hear it: an earthen, heavy thud, like a cellar door shutting, enclosing something horrible deep inside the soil and stone. In the distance, Kanade's words echoed and reverberated. “That sounds nice.” Over and over, until they became nothing more than a jumble of noise.

It was almost enough to make Mafuyu sick.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

There used to be a time when her mother’s presence was comforting:

Mafuyu lay in her bed limp, pale, and nauseous. Her mouth remained shut—taut as if it would tear apart at the slightest cough. A cold tremor ran through her body, and she had to hide in the fleece blanket to find some warmth somewhere inside. "M-mommy…"

Each word coming out of her rattled like wind running through an abandoned house; from each exhalation came a breathless sigh, like a puff of breath in the winter sky. Her eyes seldom came into focus, and her mother became a mere shadow looming over her.

"You're burning up, Mafuyu! Let's get you into some new pajamas, okay?"

Watching her mother mess up her room that day filled Mafuyu with guilt; sin. She was sick but still didn't want to see her mother upset. The worried lines on her face told her everything she needed to know, and she couldn't help but feel grief for her mother.

"I'm sorry for today," she mumbled aloud, then coughed. "I know you're busy with your neighborhood association, but because of me…."

"Hehe, what are you saying? It's not your fault you caught a cold, Mafuyu!"

Her mother ducked her head, and her lips curved gently upward, but it was far too short to be a smile. "You need to rest up after you change clothes, okay?" She murmured, "So you can show me your beautiful grin again."

Beautiful grin... when was that? The only thing she wanted when dreaming of these moments was to keep the flame alive, to have some semblance of emotion. Mafuyu couldn't be bothered to remember when things used to be good.

"Okay…"

Why was it so demanding to reflect on her past?

"By the way, we've got some apples from the neighbor. I heard they are perfect for treating a cold! How would you like to eat them?"

"…Bunnies. I want them peeled into bunny shapes."

"Mafuyu really likes bunnies, huh?"

Did she like them? Maybe she used to have some blight regarding bunnies. Her memory was vague, but she knew about the blush-colored plush she used to drag all over the city. Bonbon, she thought. That thing mysteriously vanished after its rosy cheeks grew hoary; though remembering exactly what animal it was became an uphill battle.

"Please wait a moment while I cut them," she said, her voice soft and far away. She swallowed, used her soft hands to cut the slices into little bunnies, and looked off into some unfathomable distance. Her fingers moved with dexterity, shaping the pieces precisely.

However, Mafuyu noticed her mother forgot to shape one of the rabbit's ears. Her caregiver never made mistakes, so Mafuyu had chalked it up to her fever at the time. "Yes, it's done."

Apples were a pretty color; Cadmium over her organic chemistry homework–Her teacher marked that paper a 100 with the same shade–even if they had no taste now. But her childhood self didn't need to know that yet.

"Thank you."

"Can you eat them properly? I'm worried they are still too hard…"

"...a little…"

"It can't be helped after all, hehe," Mom gently closed her fingers around the steel spoon, then reached up, brushed a lock of hair out of her face, and pressed her frigid palm to her cheek.

"Open up, Mafuyu! Say ahh!"

Mafuyu felt so… adored that day. She used to giggle when her mother gently untangled messy strands. Before, her hands used to be warm, but now, whenever her mother helped Mafuyu tie her ponytail, she couldn't stop the overwhelming cold that seized her body when her fingers scratched her from spreading completely. Maybe one of these days she’d wake up to the smell of pancakes and a kiss on the forehead.

"It's delicious… thank you, Mom."

Mafuyu could only dream.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

"Asahina?"

Mafuyu blinked once. Twice.

She sat on a wooden bench under the shaded area of the archery club. Shizuku Hinomori, her companion for the afternoon, fixed her school skirt and shifted a little closer to Mafuyu. Every movement of hers was lovely, and Mafuyu had a nagging sensation that any other person would have reacted differently when faced with the model this closely.

"Are you okay?" Mafuyu almost jumped when she felt a wintry hand resting on her forehead. The other didn't seem to notice—or overlooked her reaction.

"It doesn't feel like you have a fever..."

She sputtered and moved her head surreptitiously out of Hinomori's reach. Her bento was still condensing, even from atop her uniform. Mafuyu was sure she resembled a statue, wide-eyed and slowly feeling the water from under her bowl trickle down her legs. Luckily she was very good at making excuses, and it didn't take long for her to come up with one that was somewhat credible to her friend.

"I'm okay, Hinomori. I was just moving the bangs out of my eyes."

"You look sad."

Her classmate had always been a total mystery to her; she did and said nonsensical things without the slightest concern for her reputation.

Yet, she admitted that Hinomori could be quite observant within her airheaded personality. Anyone who only painted her as the beautiful, dumb member of MMJ clearly never bothered to spend more than a second with her. It was evident she possessed an emotional intelligence that not everyone recognized.

Sometimes, Mafuyu discerned their souls were similar in nature, and reality always showed itself when Hinomori was in the archery club. Her face became serious, focused. An air of relaxation arose solely when one's posture was straight, focusing on nothing, just the stretching of the drawstring and the target before the eyes.

That tended to be the only thing that fascinated Mafuyu about Miyamasuzaka: the number of people and different personalities that made them what they were. And yes, Hinomori was right; she was upset, or at least there was a similar feeling clumping inside her, one that made her want to scream until her throat ached under the stress of her vocal cords. The only emotion Mafuyu identified was and always would be, envy.

"But I will not pry if that's your wish."

"…I think that's for the best."

Hinomori had always been a respected idol. And any idol knew their fans like they were an extension of themselves. So Mafuyu loved sitting with her, only because Hinomori treated her like what she truly was: a simple and ordinary individual. Save for her endeavors, Hinomori was her friend, and Mafuyu noticed the relief that emanated from those spearmint irises every time she treated her classmate like a person. It was the least she could do for her.

"Thank you for having lunch with me, Asahina; I asked Shii if she wanted to join us too, but she's eating with Mochizuki today."

Splinters pinched Mafuyu with every breath she took. They dug into her skin, prying, pulsing. The bench was still moist, and the damp oak made her shiver in place. She tried to mask her disgust but she was exhausted and numb; her body felt like it was not her own. Mafuyu gasped for air, choking on nothing.

It didn't matter.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Kanade settled Mafuyu's soul.

There was no other way to describe it. Kanade was calm, even-tempered, and unflappable. Her mother would call her detached and see through her like she wasn't quite there. But Mafuyu knew better. Kanade was like her namesake: music delicately floating around at night, soothing her soul. If someone met Kanade and wasn't immediately drawn in by her magnetic aura–something was wrong with that person.

"Don't leave me." It was a low-voiced confession. One that made Mafuyu break out in hives. Her forehead creased, and she fisted her hands in the fabric of her cotton skirt, then peered at Kanade from under her bangs. "Please."

Kanade scratched her cheek, burning a hole in the pillow beside Mafuyu's head. She was still wearing her shoes, even though Mafuyu had shed them long ago, as it was common courtesy to take them off before entering someone's house. Kanade probably tucked her in bed immediately after carrying her to the house before anything else, and that thought was so lovely; so Kanade, that she couldn't find the strength to chastise the composer for her ill manners.

"I see. It's alright," Kanade said at last, "I'll always be here with you. Hold my hand. You're not alone."

There it was again. "You are not alone." She sneaked a glance at Kanade. There was a softness to her expression now, a hint of hope. The glint in those azure eyes made Mafuyu's chest feel bizarre.

She swallowed the fluttering sensation as it traveled down to her stomach. "No," she responded cautiously. "We’re not."

Kanade's answering smile was quiet and subtle, easy to miss. Mafuyu didn't miss it.

The fluttering in her stomach grew louder as if she'd swallowed a dozen butterflies or a hundred flower petals, and she had a sudden burst of uncharacteristic courage.

"Your hand is warm."

She squeezed Kanade's hand with a bravery that stunned even her. They intertwined their fingers, and Mafuyu stared at Kanade with an intensity beyond any words she could think of to say. Kanade blinked at their coiled digits, but instead of turning away or shaking off Mafuyu, she simply looked up again.

"Yours is too."

That night, she dreamed of her mother, feeding her apples and caring for her sick body. When she woke up, with Kanade snoring quietly beside her, she felt her cheek uncharacteristically wet.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

“What do you want to do, Mafuyu?”

“Don’t make a decision you will regret later, okay?”

…she wouldn't make it in time for her curfew anyway.

“Now that I’m here after all… I’ll watch a little of the night show and then go home.”

Mafuyu was disobeying her mother. She missed her mock test, and now she was skipping curfew. But even so…

Kanade’s hand was cold compared to hers. Yet it wasn't a deadly frigid; it didn't give her chills or shape her face with fear. No, it was… comforting, somehow. She didn't know why Kanade stirred her insides. Why…?

It was a type of heat that didn't bother her. She always experienced it when she spent time with Kanade. It was pleasing on her chest. Why did that happen?

“All right! Then we have to hurry up! We must go fast, or we’ll have to watch from afar!”

This strange emotion with Kanade, along with her friends. It relieved her. But then… what was the difference between Kanade and Mom? Why were her mother's hands bleak? And Kanade’s weren’t? Why was it that when she was with her mother emptiness consumed her? It was painful. She had barbs all over her muscles, and there was a rope suffocating her neck. It was better not to think about it now.

“Hey, Mafuyu?” Kanade grasped her hand tighter, “Do you still feel cold?”

“No,” Mafuyu blurted, “I think it must be because… I’m here with you. With everyone.”

A chuckle, “I also feel warm when I’m with everyone.”

Hearing Kanade utter that phrase awakened something… unexpected. Time became vague and disconnected. The rides seemed to warp and distend, undulating in mind-boggling fractals; the sun dipped below the horizon, the rays of light transforming the long shadows around the trees into dark, spindly, spidery legs that threatened to crawl over her and drag her into oblivion.

The realization that Kanade saw her in a separate light than she did was stifling.

After Kanade let go of her hand; after the big bulb in the sky lowered, and she rushed to the bathroom the moment dusk appeared, bright cyan, golden, and endless fireworks; inside the music and the actors, Mafuyu disappeared into the crowd and struggled to breathe. She was drowning; she coughed, once, twice—

And a single petal emerged from between her lips.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Despite the toxic concoction of negative emotions accumulating inside Mafuyu's ribcage, her room remained neat and tidy. Her mother hated messes, so she made sure not to move too many things before she cleaned up after herself every day.

Her desk was organized, with a cup for pens and another for pencils, a box in a drawer where her extra papers were kept, a specific shelf for her school books, and a calendar to write down homework and exams. The bookshelves were devoted mainly to her notebooks, and she maintained a carefully organized system, all of her biology journals neatly arranged alphabetically and by topic.

Only one thing violated this carefully maintained order: an empty aquarium.

It didn't live on her desk but on an ebony table next to her nightstand. There was nothing extraordinary about it; the glass was pristine, so clean that she could catch her reflection. Not even fish swam in the space; it just housed a couple of seagrasses and some doleful algae that swayed from side to side in the same rhythm as her breath, sometimes releasing oxygen bubbles that slowly rose to the surface to pop before fleeing the water.

Mafuyu had no reason to have that aquarium in her room. Other families would place it in the living room and overfill it with colorful and showy animals. No, she didn't have any; but she didn't need them.

Her real hobby was, in fact, only staring at the aquarium.

She liked to contemplate her life while she watched it. Or even empty her mind to think of nothing. Those were her favorite sessions. She only peered into her reflection's eyes; the longer it stood before her, the blurrier it became. There came a time when she felt herself become transparent, slowly disappearing from the face of the earth. She could forget about her problems for a brief moment, and not feel any emotion. Only disappear.

But even if those used to be her feelings before she created SEKAI, she could never let them resurface. Not when Kanade always promised to compose a song that would save Mafuyu from her misery one day. And she would wait for Kanade, as long as she needed. Mafuyu would continue to exist until Kanade fulfilled her promise.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

The sound of fireworks and muffled voices snapped Mafuyu back to reality. She looked around her in a weary rush, but she calmed down once she regained her memory.

She was in Kanade's house, at the request of Mizuki, who suggested time and time again she flee her home. And they were right, although she found it hard to admit it. Her mother kept getting worse and worse with each passing day, so Kanade offered her room like always with the excuse of watching a movie. And so she allowed herself to sleep, her arms around another person and her head resting on a thick mound of pillows.

With much effort, she sat up to look at Kanade, who was staring at the computer.

“Everything would be better if I just disappeared…”

"Kanade?"

The other paused the movie almost at the hour mark, already nearing its end. Listening to her voice, Kanade rearranged herself to snuggle up against Mafuyu. Her eyes were narrowed and glued to the screen, her face painted with a soft smile. Slowly, her hyacinth irises shifted to the side to catch Mafuyu's gaze. She turned her head almost weakly as if she had fallen asleep for a while.

“You’re awake.”

“I’m sorry for falling asleep,” Mafuyu muttered calmly, with a bit of guilt in her tone.

“Don’t be sorry. You need to rest,” Kanade mumbled, and Mafuyu blinked owlishly at her. “You deserve it.”

“Can you hold my hand?” is what she would have asked Kanade if it weren’t for the ever-increasing pain building up in her chest. Instead, she craned her neck to peer at the laptop, squinting.

She forgot to mention it, but Mafuyu had already seen this movie more times than she could ever count. And a part of her perceived that Kanade knew it too.

Mafuyu wasn't one to cry for nonsensical reasons, but she couldn't help but do it every time the leading girl came on the scene. Memories of that time at the classic doll show came to her again. How she panicked when that shattered one lay forgotten in the bathroom. The tightness was the same.

No matter how many times she tried–when Kanade's hand was on hers–she couldn’t find a reason to cry.

“Shoko!”

Mafuyu had nightmares about computer screens and deafening fireworks.

When she woke up, there was an empty feeling in her chest, as if something was missing, or rather, something was stolen from her. Even before her eyes snapped open, she was leaning over the edge of her bed, all her insides clenching at once. She opened her mouth and expelled a stream of bloody flower petals to the ground, slashing her lips violently. Her fingers trembled, digging into the sheets, and the petals coming out of her mouth were black, and very dark, barely more than shadows in the dead of night; she wanted to scream, but her mouth was full of flowers and she couldn't speak, I can’t breathe, I can't—

She’d never seen such a beautiful bouquet of black lilies before.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Cackling, Mizuki nearly toppled over at the outraged face Ena gave Mafuyu. The artist pointed at her with a wooden pencil, her open sketchbook between her knees. Even the unfinished drawing had "Absurd!" written all over the face—like it usually did on those nights when the four met at SEKAI for their MV sessions.

"You—are you serious? You really don't know what Tanabata is?!"

Mafuyu peeked at Kanade, who cringed into her neck at her expectant gaze and tried to explain. "It's," she mumbled uncertainly, playing with her fingers, "a festival… we're talking about the festival, right?"

Then Mizuki laughed even harder, delighted to see Ena's exasperated face.

Mafuyu raised an eyebrow. What was so important about Tanabata? Perhaps Mafuyu regarded the festival once, on some distant occasion, but she struggled to rouse it now. Was it that interesting to the others that she hadn't heard of such a celebration before?

"I don't know what Tanabata is either," Miku declared, and Mafuyu was silently grateful for the acknowledging nod the other gave her. "Could you explain it to me?"

"I guess," Ena whined, a little too annoyed. She tapped the tip of the pencil on her chin. "It is a festival that occurs on the seventh day of the seventh month. Supposedly, it is the only day of the year that the two lovers, Orihime and Hikoboshi, can meet."

Miku shifted and moved closer to Ena, squashing her dress with interest. Seeing this, Ena pressed her lips together, something she usually did when she felt regretful. "It's a pretty known festival; almost everyone in Japan celebrates it." She didn't look at them; instead, her head dipped as she dropped her pencil. "That's why it shocked me to hear you didn't know about it, Mafuyu. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make fun of you."

"It's fine. I was interested to hear more about this day regardless."

After all, Hinomori invited her to celebrate the day with all her friends. She wanted to know what the festival was about before going, and she couldn't deny that Ena's little explanation inundated her with genuine intrigue. Why was she so interested in the story of the two lovers?

Mizuki cleared her throat, clearly pleased by the question she posed. "Allow me to tell you. The story of the legend of Tanabata."

As Ena groaned this time, Kanade chuckled, brushing against Mafuyu's shoulder. She froze, feeling something akin to flowers bristle in her chest.

"The story goes like this:"

Princess Orihime, the seamstress, wove beautiful clothes by the heavenly river, the Milky Way. Because Orihime worked so hard making beautiful clothes, she became sad and desperate to find love. Her father, a god of the heavens, loved her very much and arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi, the cowherd who lived on the other side of the Milky Way. The two fell in love instantly and got married. Their passion and devotion were so deep that Orihime stopped weaving, and Hikoboshi allowed his cows to wander the skies.

Angry, Orihime's father forbade the lovers to be together, but Orihime begged him to let them stay. He loved his daughter, so he decreed that the star-crossed lovers could meet once a year on the 7th day of the 7th month if Orihime wove again.

"That's not the entire story," Ena grumbled and shot a glare at Mizuki. "It’s said that the first day they were to meet, they found the river too difficult to cross. Orihime got so discouraged that a flock of magpies came and made a bridge for her. It is said that if it rained on Tanabata, the magpies would not come, and the two lovers would have to wait another year to meet. That's why Japan always wishes for good weather on Tanabata."

"And that's why we write our desires on paper and hang them on trees," Kanade added, clearly amused despite herself. "It's good fortune if the lovers do get to meet, and who knows… your wishes might come true."

“I’m gonna wish Morishita finally leaves a comment on one of my art pieces,” Ena declared with a surprisingly genuine haughtiness. Mafuyu had heard of this Morishita at her school; she was a pretty popular mangaka. She couldn't care less about her at all, and the fact that it was Ena who wished for something as mundane as that surprised her even less.

"Don't be ridiculous, Enanan," Mizuki barked beside her.

“Why wish for that? I would ask for something bigger, like… oh, you know! A closet that can hold all the clothes in the world!”

"That's impossible, Mizuki."

"Not if you wish for it!"

It amused Mafuyu to see her friends argue sometimes. She found it curious how they had different ideas regarding their artistic creativity. Mizuki was more hyperactive in person, while Ena contrasted with her ill temperament. However, when it was time to work, she found that Mizuki took the job more seriously, while the artist eased up the process because she had more freedom.

It was the same with wishes. On New Year, they seemed to take things seriously, but now they didn't want to. Was it because they wanted to mess with Miku? Or was there another reason?

"I wish we could all go to the festival and spend the night with the rest of our friends."

Kanade was always honest no matter who she was with. She appreciated that about her, and it was one of the reasons she liked her so much.

“I… wish for that too,” Miku added, closing her eyes. "If you could, I want all of you to bring the festival’s happiness to SEKAI."

Mafuyu wanted the same. She also sought fulfillment of Miku's wish. And if she could bring a smile to SEKAI as a gift, she would do it for her, and for everyone else who lingered here. It was the least they could do for Miku and the others.

She unconsciously smiled, and the look Kanade threw her was warm, but it was as if she was looking right through her. So she excused herself and fled the scene, wandering around SEKAI like her stomach was about to explode.

It was probably the reason the flowers in her throat finally broke free.

Mafuyu stared at them, wide-eyed and frozen, her mind spinning helplessly. There were at least a dozen buds, small and imperfectly formed, the flowers box-shaped, and their wing-like petals wrinkled and collapsed. They were surrounded by countless loose petals, each smaller than her thumb, their bright pearl hue marred only by the dark magenta at their base, as if smeared with blood.

“Japanese Camellia,” Miku provided. “Best kept as a houseplant; they thrive in partial shade with plenty of protection from the bright afternoon sun. In the language of flowers, it means unrequited love.”

Unrequited love. Love. She was in love with Kanade.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Drizzle some water on the wound… Dab with a cloth…

The girl's small sobs ceased when Mafuyu removed her hand from her knees. Her medical instincts had kicked in when she saw that child crying alone by the fountain.

It touched her to help others. That could only be achieved with treatment, and bringing out a smile in others after they were cared for, became something inexplicably restorative.

That's why she always pretended to be fine at school. Just because she cared little about her own life didn't mean that helping others ceased to fill the void in her chest, even if it was only for a second. After all, she had always been the perfect little Mafuyu.

"Thank you, big sister!"

"Remember to be more careful next time, okay?"

“Mafuyu…?!” Ena had a hand over her mouth, mirroring the rest of her friends. “You're smiling…”

Her fingers caressed the corners of her mouth gently. “I'm… doing that?”

She couldn't control the laughter that came out of her, especially when she felt Ena's arms go around her torso, and Kanade's hand, always her hand, held tightly against hers. That was where it was meant to be.

Mafuyu was born to be with everyone. Together. Despite her eventual demise at the hands of her incurable illness; a fitting death for a girl who had never made a single decision in her life.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Mafuyu wanted to be a nurse. She loved helping people since she was little, and she strove to take care of her elementary classmates whenever possible. Unfortunately, her mother disagreed with her practices when she discovered this. "It's for uneducated girls," she used to tell her. "Why be a nurse when you can be a doctor? Doctors earn more money."

And she came to believe her mother, for a while. There was no other way out, anyway, and she wouldn’t find it.

Because in Mafuyu's life, choices were nonexistent. Mom would always be there to decide for her.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

"You should tell Kanade," Ena pleaded with her. "I don't think she's going to abandon you-"

"You don’t know that. And you know I can't do that." She left a few words unsaid, which she had already argued her point with days ago.

Making Kanade feel responsible for cutting what little time they already had left together? She couldn’t do that. Not a chance. She wouldn’t allow Kanade to feel guilty after her death. Mafuyu had already made peace with her circumstances.

“But if you'd just try…” she begged.

"No." Her defiant tone made Ena stop.

It was obvious Kanade wasn't in love with her. Not when there was Honami, who took care of her as no one would ever take care of Mafuyu. Not when Mafuyu had been arid, and spoke without a filter to everyone but Kanade. Never when Mafuyu pretended to be kind to everyone, while Honami remained naturally thoughtful, without having to lie to be liked by anyone.

Kanade never realized the ugly green emotions that washed over Mafuyu every time she mentioned Honami on Nightcord until her chest tightened with shame that she excused herself to cough it all up. She never took notice of her, even when Mafuyu's napkin was stained with vermillion flecks; shamelessly hidden in her pocket and tossed into the void of her SEKAI.

Maybe Mafuyu wouldn't be special to Kanade in the way she wanted, but she was fine with that.

That was alright because at least she meant enough for Kanade to look at her like that in the first place. It became a gift, one she was never going to take for granted.

Ena's fingers floated delicately over the coarse fabric of her canvas, incoherently fused with pastels. On another day, she would have told Ena that the colors made the painting look dirty and that the shape of the petals was uneven compared to the tree trunk. The mixture of pine, fig, and ivory seemed identical to the mess she'd vomited up that morning, except the one on her bedroom floor had also been speckled with red.

She sighed and then looked at Ena. It appeared as she blinked back tears when Mafuyu smiled warmly at her.

Mafuyu pointed to the messy pastels on the floor, “Do you think Kanade would like this color or the other one better?”

They became locked in a silent battle, until eventually, Ena relented and pointed to a different one to the far right with her pencil. "Wysteria." She mulled it over for a second. “It matches your hair. She would like that."

Her chest felt lighter than it had all week hearing that. "One could only hope."

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Mafuyu's dreams used to be filled with endless fireworks.

Then, they became tainted with something too vile and terrible to name or even look at. They reached for her in the dark, with vines coiling around her throat and working their way into her mouth, pushing down into her throat, her lungs, and her heart, and it would kill her. Destroy her.

Still, if she had to die, then she'd have chosen to die for Kanade.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

SEKAI turned out to be empty today.

Mafuyu was kneeling before the cyclamen she just hurled a few seconds ago. She didn't have enough strength to stand in front of the flower, so her knees buckled until she ended up making eye contact with her reflection. It was an act of supplication; an act of mercy. Somehow, she cleared a space for the long cyclamen and set the bud on the ground, positioning it so that her bloodied flowers faced away from it. She didn't want to taint it; it didn't matter if she created all of them as a product of her disease.

And it didn't surprise her then when she coughed and choked; when she spat a mouthful of stringy scarlet petals into the palm of her hand.

She stared at her petals, so bright, so lovely. Spider lilies, she thought, and her heart contracted in her chest. She wanted to crush these petals in her fist, squeeze them tight, and hold them close to her; she wanted to cast them aside and let the void take them.

"You should tell her."

Kaito appeared before her as if he had been summoned. Mafuyu sighed through her nose.

She’d heard that phrase before, from Ena and Miku. She wasn't in the mood to deal with Kaito as well and plummeted to the ground with the feeling of Kaito's hand on her back. Mafuyu reeled from the emptiness of her SEKAI and rolled towards him. His face was drawn with a solemn line, which Mafuyu already expected to see, though, surprisingly, he said nothing more. She blinked slowly at him, an insult on her lips, but he raised a hand to her, sternly telling her to stop.

"Don't talk," he commanded, and his voice was so convincing that she acted as such. She wanted to speak. Oh, how she longed to say something. She needed to tell him how much she cared about Kanade. How much she loved her, and how important she was to her. But she couldn't. As always, Kaito was right.

All alone, I remembered laughing with you,

For some reason, my emotions just kept on making noise.

Was it fine like this? Where did I make a mistake?

This heat in my chest won’t subside, why?

“…Kanade…”

For some reason, I’ve grown lonely,

As my heart has withered, and nothing has flavor,

Inside of the days I’ve grown used to, I wonder if tomorrow will be like this too…

Tears did not stop rolling down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling to the tick of his song. She couldn't stop thinking about Kanade, about the music that made Mafuyu cry and laugh. The music that made her fall in love. She was grateful that this was her SEKAI. She didn't need to say anything and Kaito would already know what she was thinking.

“…Take care of this flower… Take care of it as if it were…”

She sobbed, silently, into Kaito's chest. He rubbed his hand up and down her back with gentleness, and she could feel the stutter of pain from her breath every time she took a particularly strong breath, which meant her hyperventilated cry was nowhere near coming to an end. What they said at school was true–when one was closer to death, one felt the most alive.

Loving Kanade would never be a regret in her life. She gave her everything she ever wanted; and more than she needed. Perhaps there would never be a song to save Mafuyu. But really, she’d rather die than live a life without discovering the feeling that loving Kanade gave her. She was calm now, she was convinced of it. But she was also human and intensely mortal.

Humans were inherently selfish, she knew that, and regrets were always rooted in them. She only wished, in the next life or the afterlife, that Kanade would have half as much love for her as the flowers that grew and twined around her heart.

“Keep visiting,” Kaito told her. His voice was dry against the wetness of her tears. “Keep visiting until every flower consumes you, Mafuyu. Then you can go."

Mafuyu nodded mutely against his chest.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

In Mafuyu's entire life, she never had a choice.

But for the first time, she was finally doing the right thing. It didn't matter how many times she suffered, how many carnations, hyacinths and thorns ate away at her insides. No matter how many memories were wiped clean from her subconscious; if she were deaf, blind, or mute; she would always fall in love with Kanade, in this life and the next.

And yet, she could have lived through a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve Kanade in any of those.

Mafuyu drew her bow. It was mid-spring, perhaps. It was neither hot nor cold, and the wind blew calm as afternoon fell and the rays struggled to reach them. Hinomori had once mentioned that she liked to sit facing the school doors because the sun would catch her and bathe her back with warmth for a certain hour, which was a revitalizing sensation. Mafuyu couldn't match that. When the sun touched her, she felt she could collapse at any moment, that the light would pierce her skin and turn her to dust.

The sun was not revitalizing to her at all; it was agonizing, more like. It was searing heat, a fever that boiled her insides but never finished killing her, flooding her body in a suffocating anxiety that made her throat knot. Because if life inevitably culminated in death, then what was the point of making her wait?

There, being a part of Kanade's identity without leaving a significant dent in her life, she figured she was in a similar situation. No matter how much she wanted, Kanade only had eyes for Mochizuki. And how could she blame her?

Mochizuki was the only reason Kanade was still alive.

And Kanade was the only reason Mafuyu was alive. She never felt something with such intensity before, something that made her suffer as much as Hanahaki. And the simple fact that Mafuyu was carrying those feelings for Kanade meant that she had already been saved. If she could keep that pain alive, that was already a reason to stay until the day of her last breath.

"Your ponytail is lopsided today, Asahina."

Mafuyu released the arrow, listening to the string twang thanks to the force.

She was willing to keep these flowers alive for Kanade. Her love was worth dying for. This would be her first and last choice.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Mafuyu spent the Tanabata Eve like most people would: hanging empty paper on trees and gallivanting around with her friends.

Unlike most people who would go down to the river during festivals to set off fireworks or spend the night praying at a shrine, Mizuki and Akito suggested that they go down to Shibuya Station instead, where no one but them would be around. So now, laughter echoed around them, and the people strolling by judged them, puzzled, but they didn’t care.

“Miss… Asahina?”

Mafuyu averted her gaze from Kamishiro’s explosive cherry bombs and instead fixed on the delicate voice. She nearly choked on her saliva when she rested her eyes on Mochizuki, who smiled at her with pure, unbridled innocence. So much so that Mafuyu felt almost guilty for all the nauseating things she thought about her.

The youngest fiddled with a pen in her hands, surely looking for a way to offer it to Mafuyu. “We are writing our wishes… do- do you want to come?”

She had no idea how the paper ended up in her hands. The only thing she recalled was the black ink staining her sleeve and the way Mochizuki was looking at her with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Because, of course, what kind of person doesn't smile in the middle of a festival? It was the first year she finally knew what to wish for, and it was time for her to put it into words, once and for all.

…Except she decided to ask Mochizuki what her wish was instead.

"My wish?" She seemed taken aback by the question, but Mochizuki being Mochizuki, she kindly answered. Without any shame in sight.

“My wish is that we can all spend another year together. My friends,” silver eyes turned to one of her classmates, Hinomori's sister, if Mafuyu remembered correctly. “And your friends,” this time, she made eye contact with Mafuyu, and her grin was so wide that she could see her perfectly straight teeth. White like Kanade's hair.

Kanade’s reflection dwelled in Mochizuki's pupils.

“I want us to be happy. All of us, together.”

Mafuyu’s eyelids fluttered shut upon hearing that, a small tingle tickling her lips. She needed that too. She wished to spend another year with her friends. Although that was impossible because unfortunately, this disease would kill her eventually.

Mochizuki's wish could not come true. Mafuyu was sure she wouldn't last another year, and no matter how much she wanted it to be possible, she was going to die.

Fingers clenched around her paper now. Her hands were shaking, bunched up in her kimono. She didn't want to think about it. Especially not tonight, when the weather was clear, without a single cloud in the sky.

So when Mafuyu opened her eyes–almost wet with tears–and met the look of alarm from Mochizuki, she couldn't stop the corners of her lips from turning up. Even if it was just a little.

"Thank you, Honami. I also wish we could spend another year together.”

Mochizuki's gasp was muffled by the boom of a nearby firework. Orange, like all the sunsets that once brought her happiness. Orange, like the lotuses Mafuyu unfairly assigned Mochizuki.

Seeing her face light up was enough to know that Kanade was in good hands. She always wondered if the girl knew how much she had done for the four of them; for Niigo. Maybe Mafuyu couldn't fulfill her junior’s wish, but she deserved happiness anyway. With Kanade.

Mafuyu could never have the heart to hate her.

“Honami! Asahina!”

Otori approached them with sparklers in both hands. A dangerous act; her mother would have scolded her before launching the gift in the trash. But today Mafuyu wasn't with her mother, so she gratefully accepted the sparkler from Otori’s hands and laughed alongside everyone. Today, she was surrounded by all the people she loved. Mizuki, Ena, Hinomori, Otori.

Kanade. We’re not alone anymore.

When Orihime and Hikoboshi finally met, Mafuyu vomited white orchids, long petals, and silky ivory. She felt them slide down her throat, rub against her palate, catch between her teeth, and spit them out in pieces. She lifted them, choking until she cried, and then, when the flood stopped, she pushed the loose, wet petals into the soil on top of them with her bare hands.

In the end, the sight of Kanade’s hand around somebody else; and their shared fireworks, soft and gleaming—the way Kanade stared at Mochizuki, in the way she once reserved for her, was too much to bear.

She never did finish writing her wish. Only asked the stars that Mochizuki loved Kanade with all that she had to give and that she cared for her even after her death.

Mafuyu’s lungs sprang. They caught fire, burning, killing everything in their path. Everything hurt, and it was impossible to breathe with the petals clogging her trachea, and the roses settling themselves in her ribcage as she lay with her back on the prickly grass.

“They are only two simple stars, Altair and Vega. There’s no real story behind them. Don’t forget to remind your friends today’s legend is pure nonsense, okay Mafuyu?”

“…Shut… up.”

Her eyes flew to the heavens, watching in agony as the two lovers got the one thing she wanted. Still, Mafuyu longed to prove her mother wrong. They did meet, I saw it with my own eyes, Mom.

She escaped shortly after, despite her friend's protests. Hinomori let her go. Ena didn't.

When the last firework went off, Mafuyu couldn’t bring herself to care.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

Time was static and yet it moved forward. The minutes dragged on endlessly; days vanished in the twinkling of an eye. Her health quickly deteriorated. SEKAI did too. Only Mafuyu's flowers bloomed, lush with color and life. Her lungs bloomed with tulips and daffodils, ablaze with anemones and torch lilies. Flowers bloomed inside to die in her bathtub and then grew again.

One day, she told herself insistently. One more day, and I will grow courage. One day I'll tell you. I will, Kanade, I will—

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

And then one warm summer night

I'll hear fireworks outside

And I'll listen to the memories as they cry, cry, cry

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

The reality was that Mafuyu didn’t have a passion.

Until she met Kanade, and then, she became hers. Kanade was her only passion in life, but the thorn-filled roses, carnations, and suffocating hyacinths growing within her were the painful reminder that Mafuyu was never hers.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

You are cordially invited to the Yoisaki-Mochizuki wedding on,

The seventh day of the seventh month.

Keep a seat reserved at our table for those who couldn’t join us on this day.

In loving memory of Mr Yoisaki,

who is not here today but always in our hearts

and, our dear friend Mafuyu Asahina,

May the cherry blossoms always bloom for you.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ⋆

[aorish]

The neat thing about mathematics is that you learn how to work things out for yourself, and in some sense this is a necessary skill to develop if you really want to understand any higher math; if you work through the problem sets in most undergraduate mathematics textbooks on your own, you'll not only know but also "understand" the content, in a way you wouldn't if you only read those books but didn't do any of the problems.

And what I'm calling "understanding" in this context is a more secure and accessible form of knowledge than most other forms of knowledge. You could learn that all of the other math students you had ever met were simply copying the instructor's solutions manual for each textbook, that your professors had all done the same in their time, that even the textbook author themself relied on someone else's solutions, and that none of them really understood the material in the same way that you did, and it wouldn't threaten the security of your own knowledge that you have understood mathematics. Even if you ever had any reason to doubt your memories or your senses, you still could rederive the mathematics yourself to make sure you still understood, while all of your memories of childhood would rely on the testimony of others or sense data on the external world. You could even begin to doubt the existence of the external world before you doubted your own understanding.

But we run into a new epistemic difficulty at this point. Suppose that all of your mathematics classmates really are frauds and charlatans. How could you, as someone who has truly understood mathematics, convince all of them that they hadn't? They don't understand, so they can't understand what they're missing. Some of them might just be willing to try deriving proofs for themselves if you ask them nicely enough, but it's not clear that there's any way you could win them over with rational arguments in order to get them to do so. Instead, you'd need to appeal to their irrationality, and find a way to get them to believe that it was worth their time to try, that they would be risking very little in exchange for something they'll only appreciate the value of once they've finished. Maybe some puzzles or riddles that throw them off balance, that create a need to seek more understanding. You might be lucky enough that some of them believe you.

So if all has gone well, you now have initiates, and you've all decided that together you want to restore the field of mathematics to its former glory, and purge the corruption of rote memorization from the academy. You'll learn quickly that much like you can verify your own understanding, it's also possible for you to identify those who have really understood math - you can present them with a proof for something they've never seen before, that's related to something they have seen, and they can work it out to a state that you or any initiate who truly understands can identify. And happily, they can use these methods of proof on each other. And so you can spread your knowledge and understanding via those who have also understood.

But you haven't gotten out of the woods yet, and your difficulty is not just that you're outnumbered. Once you've made a bit of a name for yourself and attracted a following, there will be other initiates who seek fame and glory, but yet can't or won't understand anything, and are no better off than before you met them despite your best efforts- they can't prove new theorems they haven't seen, they can't confirm the validity of others proofs, and they can't devise questions that others will be able to solve. Often these others will insist that they really are taking the same steps as everyone else, from their perspective, the rest of you all must be lying, or else something about them must be broken. Neither possibility will make them happy, and for the rest of it's existence your movement's survival depends on filtering these people off. If these sorts figure out how to fool the rest of you, or they go out in your name claiming to teach "real" mathematics, all will be lost, and your rare understanding will be diluted by their more common lack of it.

Unfortunately, at some point you will die, and everything you understand for yourself will be lost to the world. Your initiates who have truly understood you will die as well, and those they have taught will, in turn, also die. There are no immortal guardians who will safeguard the true understanding of mathematics, and it cannot be written down, only experienced directly, or it would have been written down before. Those who have understood this must always continue to spread understanding to those who might understand, and each generation of them must combat the threat of those others who have not, or else all may again be lost and forgotten.

But yet, there is one last glimmer of hope; though what you have found may one day be lost again, what has been lost may yet again be found, else you would not have been able to find it. Perhaps this is enough to hold onto.

[dr-xanders-diary]

Our beginning.. I love you..

From the very first time I ever saw you at that whos-it party, I knew I loved you. At first I just didn't know how I loved you. That detail would come later, but from the very first time I saw you, I knew, you were meant to be mine. You were meant for me. A perfect match. God himself couldn't have made us more perfect for each other. At the time, you just didn't know this.

God himself couldn't have made you more perfect. From the way you held yourself, the way you walked, spoke, your voice, your hair, down to the very fiber of your being. You, in all your perfection, standing there amidst the noise of everyday life, like an angel to calm a storm. In the very first moments of seeing you I knew, you'd change me. I would change for the better, I'd grow confident, sociable, I'd gain all the things that I had previously lacked. And that, that is when I decided in that very moment, to change the very course of both your life and my own life.

I took the first steps, I walked up to you, smiled and mustered all the charm that I could. Every romance book I had read, every detail of a loving relationship I had studied, and watched in envy, all came crashing within me and prepared me for this very moment and every moment to come. I was going to make you fall in love with me, I was going to become your prince charming, I was going to be your knight in shining armor. You didn't know it yet, but you would fall in love with me, and you would be deeply in love with me.. soon. Very soon.

In the moment, things went so quickly. I smiled, gestured a small wave with my hand, and reached out and gently took yours and said, "Hello, I'm ********** (X), you must be-.. sorry I don't think I quite caught your name-, or your number. I have a terrible memory do you mind reminding me". In that moment I could see you, your eyes gleamed, I'd never seen someone so perfect this close before. That moment changed my life, it changed me. By the end of the night we exchanged numbers and had spent several hours talking, I got to walk you out of the party and to your vehicle.

An handed down tan 1996 Toyota corolla, that your dad gave to you so you could get to work and home easily without having to worry about taking the train and bus. Which I learned upon looking into you.

You are smart, charismatic, kind, and so fucking gorgeous. The way your mind works, I could spend several hours listening to you and what you thought. You are everything I never thought I'd find in a person. Perfection, at least to me. I spent the next day checking and looking into every single detail I could find, about you; your past, your family, your history of dating, the schools you've attended in the past, your friends. Learning, studying, watching every video of you I could find, digging through thousands of pages of information of you I could get my hands on.

One thing I've learned, is you're very open about what you like; what you do, where you go, where you've been. I've learned your favorite to-go orders from your favorite restaurants' you have visited in the past. Places you've traveled and for how long, your therapists name, your doctors and the things you struggle with. You know.. you really should put your social media profiles on private. Someone dangerous could come across them and get the wrong idea of you. I need you to be smarter, safer than how you have been. The last thing we need, is someone coming along and finding out who you are, how special you are and taking you, away from me. With the amount of information about you, that you've shared online, I've learned what things you would like, and what things you wont. The algorithm I created for you, tediously curated to suit your tastes, will come in handy in order for me, to keep you happy.

As time went on, as we went on dates, on outings, I got to learn in depth, of the things you enjoy, we spent hours in libraries, museums, gardens, walking and hiking, going to new restaurants'; ones I recommended. I didn't think you'd be so into physical activities, but of course you are, you're perfect. I had a bit of catch up to do, to get into shape and gain the same stamina as you at first. But now I can outlast you tenfold, I can lift more than you much more easily, I can out run you, I can last longer than you running. I knew it, I knew you would make me a better person. I am better, because of you. I learned where you lived in the past, where you live now, plenty before you ever dare invite me over. I just had to know where you stayed, what you did when you were home, what you wore.. how you, pleasured yourself. So I could be the best person for you, so I can be the only person for you.

Of course the first time I ever went over, I didn't get to step inside on the account that I was only picking you up for a date. But later. While you worked, I took the liberty to go visit your ever so humble abode. I have to admit, you've quite the green thumb, darling. And your taste for interior design isn't bad at all, your apartment is-.. so very you. And you left me a present, leaving your recently worn night clothes out, half-hazardly hanging on the corner of your bed. What.. are you tempting me? Of course you are, and I just so happen to not be able to help myself; you'll probably blame your shirt missing on the dog. I took your night shirt in my left hand and brought it up to my nose. Inhaling your scent, still fresh. You smell so good. So fucking good, I can almost feel you here with me. I almost couldn't contain myself. 'Fuck. No. I can't disgrace your space like this' So, I stuffed most of that shirt in my pants pocket, the other part hanging out. Just for now, you'll never know it's missing and if you do.. well.

You know.. the inside of someone's home, or apartment is so telling, every detail you think doesn't matter. Well it says a lot about someone, and you, you're a clean person, a neat person, sophisticated. Like me. We are the same. Almost. But a good thing I learned, is that your dog is very friendly, he couldn't hurt a fly even if he wanted to. He's very sweet and loving, he's honest, and will think of me as a new friend by the time we 'officially' met.

I didn't mind playing the slow game, especially with what you've been through with your shit exes. I made sure to do things right, for you. For us, and finally it paid off. But you know, by the time you invited me over and showed me your favorite books, I already knew, I read them prior, for you.

You thought that I was smart, charismatic, and charming. So much so that, that night you invited me into not only your home, but your bed. Every touch against your skin, every kiss, every slow bite. Methodical, every rhythmic movement, careful and oh-. Your gasping, panting and moaning with every touch, every movement, just the way you like it. I knew that everything would come in handy, because I'd never seen you so pleasured. Especially when my lips wrapped around your- oh, and I trailed my tongue up along every crease and crevasse, teasing and swirled around your- oh. While I occupied my left hand to slowly apply pressure just above your pelvis, and glide my fingers in and out of your- ah mmn. And did you just-? How fast. But I know you're not done, I know that you can go again, that this is just the beginning of a well spent night.

We spent hours groaning, moaning, slow grinding and thrusting over and over, touching, grabbing and gripping onto each other until finally you couldn't go anymore. I made sure to wear you out well, to drain you of every orgasm in you. And I, well I had a great time making love to you in a way I hoped you could never forget. After, you had such shaky legs you could barely stand. I made sure you laid until you could walk, caring for you, making sure you went to the bathroom to pee, and drank water and had a snack. Before we laid and cuddled. You fell asleep in my arms as I spoke to you as calmly, comforting and loving as I could.

"That's okay, just feel the beat of my heart, the weight of my chest rising and falling against your own. Breathe in slow with me, inhaling and exhaling. You were wonderful. You made quite the mess~." "Ah yes, I did. I'm glad I was." "Yes. You did very good, amazing actually. You're such a good-" "You're really gorgeous, and your eyes shine like no other. They hold galaxies."

By morning we were officially dating, calling each other love, darling, honey. You were finally saying you were, mine. And that I was yours.

The long game does pay off.

This was just our beginning.. I love you.

And now you love me too, just like I said you would..

[idonotwanttogrowupbitch]

Rodrick dating his opposite (i'm obsessed with this man, this isn't sane anymore)

Under the same context of the best friends to lovers post, you met because a teacher brought you together to do a project and then Rodrick hated you with his soul, you were too tidy, too responsible and too strict and he hated that, so he kindly decided to go on the road to bother you and make your life miserable for the rest of elementary school.

In high school when you were about 13 he played a joke on you that got a little (too) out of hand, he decided it was a good idea to start a rumor that you had touched that stinky cheese that was in the corner of the basketball court (yes he threw it and passed it around questionable places to make it even more disgusting) and then everyone started to reject you and it got to you, you knew Rodrick had done it so you reported him to your parents, you went to the principal and there the principal told you that from now on you had to get along (she had seen you since you were 5 fighting and she was fed up) and actually it worked.

At the beginning the interaction was a bit forced but you discovered that in spite of being opposite personalities and styles you had things in common and with time you became good friends, even inseparable, the director was very proud and susan was more than happy.

You learned to overcome your personalities, actually you both liked a lot of things that coincided, amusement parks, video games and all that, you really stayed together a lot but after a while you forced Rodrick to do his homework and even though he made a bad face he had made a deal with you.

He started to like you, a lot, when he spent so much time with you he realized that you were great and that he wanted you to be his girlfriend in the future, he actually said with a smile "I'll marry her when I grow up" every time you did him a favor or made him feel good, and even though you saw it as a game Rodrick started to like you without you realizing it.

Once you kissed (an awkward, short and uncomfortable kiss) just to taste the world of grown-ups and in the end you both ended up giving each other a good blow, first legendary kiss. "have you ever kissed anyone?" "no Rodrick, that's disgusting" "haha dummie.. …. do you want to try?" "yuck……okey"

As you got older you liked each other more and more, and then one day you told Rodrick how you felt about it and after a long silence he rushed up to you and kissed you (awkwardly of course, but romantic in Rodrick's way).

Greg loves you, this kid got attached to you like gum as soon as you became friends with his brother, always trying to get you to play video games with him, it's not like he likes you or anything but he really sees you as just another friend.

Rodrick is surprisingly corny, but only when you're in private. He loves cuddling with you he really loves it, once he hugs you you know you won't come out of there for at least 2 hours, he gives you kisses and cuddles up to you and puts his head in the crook of your neck, it's really cute when he gets all soft and whispers really nice things (I live for this Rodrick headcanon I created myself) he has written songs for you, or tried to, and plans one day to perform them with the band for you

i know i promise the best friends to lovers pt 2 but this come to my mind and i HAVE to write it down

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna

Usual warning. This is not a review. It's just me needing to put what I'm feeling somewhere. I just finished watching so there's absolutely no critical thinking happening here.

TL;DR: WATCH THIS SHOW!!!

Well I finally finished all of Tsukutabe and to say my heart is full feels small somehow. My heart grew. I remember when I finished the second season of Kinou Nani Tabeta, I was so overwhelmed with emotions and honestly I was not expecting to be in that place again. I called it magic and I have to echo those same feelings here. Because this show it's magic. It's a gift that makes me feel thankful that I got to experience it. I really have a hard time writing about this because I'm feeling so many things so I'll try to split it in smaller bits so maybe it sounds a bit more coherent. No promises though.

Kasuga I have to start here because she's my favourite, in case it wasn't obvious by my choice of pfp. She's so cute. I fell in love with her almost immediately. I've talked about this before but to see a character eat the way she does on screen healed something in me. The way she looks at Nomoto made me melt multiple times and her smile completely shatters this cold heart of mine. The episodes around her family had me bawling [normally I would wish for her father to be run over or something, but that would only add misery to Kasuga's mother, so I just hope he dies first] but seeing her put herself first and release herself from those expectations was amazing. Her journey was incredible and it was great that she was able to open up to Nagumo and Nomoto. I have to congratulate Nishino Emi for her portrayal of Kasuga. Considering she's not an actor (she's a musician btw) and this is her only acting credit, I thought the way she embodied Kasuga was really good.

Nomoto I adore her. Her happiness was infectious and she made me smile so wide. Cooking for your loved ones is just such the most beautiful thing to me and she and Shiro are the standard and everyone else can take notes. She's more open than Kasuga so we have more of an insight to her and to watch her awakening was amazing. It reminded me a bit Sakuko [Koisenu Futari] in the beginning. Her facial expressions always gave her away and it was such a contrast to Kasuga's reserved demeanor.

THEM The Yin and Yang. They are so different on the surface but the way they come together and create a space for each other is just so beautiful to see. They are learning from each other through these two seasons and growing together and navigating the realities of their relationship and what it all means and how it makes them feel. I just love the happiness in Nomoto's eyes whenever Saguka is eating her food and the happiness and little smiles in Kasuga's face whenever Nomoto got really excited by a vegetable or a finished dish. They are perfect and will live happily ever after. Period.

Nagumo This girl has my whole heart. I said this before in the notes but every time she was on my screen I just wanted to give her a hug. She's fragile but resilient and although she was a bit shy at first, the way she shared her story with Kasuga and quickly became the person she went to for advice was so good. And to see her getting help, finding relief in a word and hope in the future made me cry so much. And when she took that bite it made my heart grow that very second. And just as a aside, the fact that the show chose to have her eat while the others didn't notice and after they did, they still didn't make it a big deal made me ugly cry. Because that's the magic part. That when I feel that a show knows what it's doing with its characters. And the moment at the end in the job thing when she said she wanted to do something that allowed to talk to people had me clapping like a proud mama.

Chiharu I love her. I love that Nomoto had someone by her side from the beginning that she could confide in and that was supportive. And that when she "messed up", like with the wedding talk, she was given space to reflect and understand and give her friend the space she needed to talk about it. Cause it's okay to not be all woke - god, I hate this word - all the time. As long as people are ready to listen to each other and learn from one another. Also always happy for the screw marriage discourse.

Yako The ace rep had me clapping at first of course. It's so rare anywhere in media so it always adds points no matter what. So obviously... I love her. She's such an amazing supporter. She's so kind and open. Her relationship with Nomoto was wonderful but she and Naguma gave me some of my favourite moments ever. Because being supportive sometimes is just being present, is asking questions, is just listening to understand and not judge. And to want those around you to grow. That moment where she realized what the move meant for Nagumo and asked her to go for a walk was so good.

THESE WOMEN. I love these women. All of them. How they come together for each other, and the kindness and understanding made me ugly cry on more than one occasion.

The Food This show really speaks to me in several ways and I know I spoke of this before but I keep coming back to food.

You eat too much or you don't eat enough. Or you don't eat it the right way. Or eat the right things. Food is just sustenance for some. Food is joy to others. Food is what makes some of us get up in the morning. Food is to eat alone or together. It means a lot of different things to different people. It's food. You eat yours and I eat mine. Can we just not pay so much attention to this? Now that I got that out. Japanese shows are the best at using food in their stories. And more often that not, it's a place of joy and healing. And the fact that this series showed that food can also be a source of trauma and something that makes you different, as well as a place where you can heal is so important to me. Because I can relate to both those things. The dining table has been a place where I felt wrong different but also a place where I found so much joy.

The Magic Much like Kinou Nani Tabeta this show is full of magic. It was made by people that needed to make it, to talk about things that mattered, from a place of empathy and love. I feel like I was meant to watch this show. The universe conspired to put it in front of me. I understand this sounds super corny, and honestly if anyone else said this words to me I would be rolling my eyes way back into my skull, so I get it. But it feels cosmic somehow. Also fun fact that helps the magic of it all. One of the characters and I share a last name. Me, little portuguese me, and a japanese character from this show. Can you imagine the odds? And no, I have no connection to Japan whatsoever, and my last name isn't even a very common one in either country. So really it has to be magic, right? Also, I have a small confession. GL's were never my favourite. I'm enjoying 23.5 a lot for example but I'm never in a rush to watch them. I have a bias against them that I never really examined, except that I find that I'm much more critical of them so I enjoyed them less. But this show, these women, just moved the needle a bit. There are important conversations here, not just from a queer standpoint but from a female perspective that really resonated with me, so I might need to readjust some things. Anyway, I have a lot of feelings but this is already long. I'll be thinking about this show a lot more, and there will be giffing for sure so I won't leave these characters any time soon. Also, did I mention?, I LOVE Kasuga. SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME and one of my favourite characters of all time.

I already talked about the kindness in this show but I need to say it again. It's all about the kindness. These women. They are all so open and kind and because of that they are all better people and happier people. Maybe we can learn from them. If only we could be a little more kind to each other.

If you've made it to the end, thanks for reading💜. [A huge thanks to @furritsubs for giving us the opportunity to enjoy this masterpiece.]