#so true bestie (i’m bestie)

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[theredch3rry]

Hear me out…

Pearl: made it out alive, but I think I lost it

(She killed Gem in a 2v1, but she lost Gems trust)

Gem: said that I was fine, said it from my coffin

(Said everything was fine when Pearl didn’t ally with her but then got backstabbed literally killing her)

Pearl: remember how I died when you started walking, that’s my life, that’s my life

(Gem took both of her lives, boogie trap & that task)

Gem: I’ll put up a fight, taking out my earrings, don’t you know the vibe

(She will fight Pearl even if it’s her best friend that’s her vibe)

Pearl: don’t you know the feeling, you should spend the night, catch me in your ceiling

(She’s been betrayed by her “best friend” (Scott) before she knows that feeling, she’s reminding Gem if she goes through with this it will be a nightmare like a sleep paralysis demon on her ceiling)

Gem: that’s your prize, thats your prize

(This is what Pearl gets she deserves this)

[racewinnerlandonorris]

just two giggly boys in their matching neon hats

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

childhood friend!sugu vs childhood friend!toru

YOU’VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE .

thank you for saying this anon i’ve been thinking of it a lot actually. i’m morally and legally binded to choose childhood friend!sugu no matter what because he’s literally……. my favorite Ever. and i think the inherent devotion of the childhood friend trope blends soooo well with his natural devotion. his protective urges. etcetc. i have wayyyy too many thoughts about childhood friend!sugu 😭 but it mostly boils down to him wanting to be by your side forever. he wants to make you happy and he wants to protect you and he knows you so well that he doesn’t trust anyone else to love you like he can. he’s selfish and he wants you to lean on him more than he wants anything for himself.

childhood friend!toru though….. i feel like he would be your estranged childhood friend. that makes most sense to me :3 like, you met when you were really really young, and ended up playing together in an empty park. he was a brat, kind of quiet, and you were just sweet, y’know? you were the closest thing to a friend he had as a child. then you ended up moving away, he never got to say goodbye… and you meet again as adults. you don’t remember him — it was just so, so long ago — but he remembers you. he remembers you a little too well.

so now you just kinda have to deal with this tall, handsome, cheery man who keeps talking to you like you’re best friends even though you literally don’t remember him…. he’s sweet though. a little annoying, but sweet. he has a soft spot for you. i think having anything remotely close to a childhood friend makes him feel human in a way he can’t help but crave.

sooooo. overall!!! both are good :3 i will always be a childhood friend!sugu truther before anything else but childhood friend!toru has sm potential..

[ceebit]

okay but. would ur fave bias u is the question i think we should be asking more

[phantangled]

mr amazing back at it with his ✨iconic✨ annotations

(+ i’m glad he’s doing okay 🥹)

[chocolate-mallowmelt]

i currently have a kotlc amazing race au spinning around in my head but i’m struggling to figure out teams because they are so many good dynamics 😭😭😭

[swordmaid]

really do like the idea that brienne likes to lowkey listen to gossip like I think she’s really a chismosa at heart …. brienne joining the local marites in lannisport and being like 👀👃 when the ates are talking abt something particularly juicy. then she’ll tell jaime all about it later and he’s like girl how do you know all this

[yeenybeanies]

IT'S COMING ALONG!!! Best quality: his wiggles

Also Ghost's shirt is working so hard, like damn maybe go up a size but also don't <3

I feel like I could make his jeans work harder too. We'll see ....

hhHOOOOOAAAAAA THEM!!!!!

HOLDS THIS TO MY CHEST & WAILS!!!

[daylighteclipsed]

I’m enjoying FF7 Rebirth more than Remake so far (I was so sick of being in that uglyass city), but as someone who is not familiar with the og FF7 the sudden party member affection system absolutely blindsided me

[knight-commander]

OCKISS WEEK - DAY THREE

Siavash & Emery

this one definitely fits the prompt “rain” 😌 i originally had something else written for these too but after the post from @dujour13 yesterday I just had to do this. It got a little out of hand. Sorry :3c

If Siavash knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t answer the door.

That was Emery’s hope, because a part of him was terrified of what would happen if it did swing open and he had to look Sia in the eyes. Had he cut his hair? Changed his style? Would he smell the same? A few months could change an entire life, and he’d been gone for seven of them.

The rain hadn’t stopped for days, and Emery was soaked to the bone, because neither had he. He had pushed Mánath further than ever before to make it to Siavash’s door, and now that he was there, he couldn’t work up the nerve to walk up the steps.

What was a promise to wait? Was it worth anything? Doubts flitted across his mind, and then guilt swiftly followed. He shouldn’t be accusing Siavash of anything; he was the one who had left, after all. Even after being asked not to. He was the one who should be left out in the rain.

But Tiger was bundled in his arms, and so was a poorly salvaged bouquet of sodden flowers, and at least for their sakes, he had to give this a try. Emery squared his shoulders, the weight of his armor bearing down on him, and walked up the three stone steps.

The knock was gentler than he intended. Cowardly. He hoped Siavash didn’t hear it and so that he could chalk this up to a failed attempt that they could mutually walk away from, and he could just turn around and spare Sia the—

The door swung open.

Bleary-eyed Siavash stood there, rubbing idly at his face as he held the door ajar. A flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder caused Tiger to leap from Emery’s arms, rushing inside to warmth before either of them had a chance to react. Sheepishly, Emery looked back up at Siavash.

Gods, that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that even after seven months, Siavash was just as beautiful as he remembered. Sleepy, confused, and wearing a mismatched shirt and pants from being disturbed, but beautiful all the same. His blond hair was tousled, his lips pursed into something near to a pout.

“Emery?” Sia’s voice was rough from sleep, but he could still hear that honey-smooth purr he’d fallen in love with. “What are you doing here?”

Panic began to set in again. “I-I know it’s the middle of the might, but I—“

“You’re soaking wet,” Siavash cut him off. Emery stuttered over the rest of his sentence as Sia wrapped him in some coat he kept hanging by the door and dragged him inside. Emery was pretty sure the coat was worth more than he was, but he didn’t say that out loud, either. “And you’re freezing. We need to get you out of your armor.”

“It’s only some rain,” Emery protested, but the warmth of Siavash’s home left him shivering in comparison to the cold and wet he had dragged in from outside.

It wasn’t long before Siavash had Emery sitting warm and dry by the fire, dressed in some loose cotton clothes and wrapped up in the fluffiest blanket that the bard could find. He gratefully accepted the cup of tea that was offered to him—lavender and chamomile, his favorite—and found himself pleasantly surprised when Siavash settled in next to him on the floor, comfortable as if no time had passed at all.

Emery couldn’t resist pressing up against Siavash in return.

“Now,” Sia broke the silence, carefully, in a tone Emery knew meant that he was about to test the waters. “You know I love to see you, Emery, but it is the middle of the night.”

“I am aware,” Emery said between nervous sips of his tea. “I hadn’t intended to intrude upon your sleep in this way. I just rode straight from Cheliax, and I didn’t think I would hit the storm, or that it would be so late, and—“

“Emery.” Siavash brushed his hand across his cheek, and he raised his head to meet Sia’s eyes. “You weren’t due to be on leave for another three months. You said that in your last letter.”

Tell him the truth! Tell him you were wrong!

Emery parsed his tongue across his lips and glanced away. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Is that all?”

“…No,” he sighed, shoulders heaving with the effort. Although he tilted his cheek into Sia’s touch, he closed his eyes rather than look him in the eyes again. “I… I left. I took them up on the honorable discharge they’d offered at the end of the Crusade, stayed to sort out the paperwork, and left as soon as it was official.”

Emery could feel Siavash’s thumb brush gently across his cheek, but fear kept his eyes shut.

“You… did?” Siavash asked. “When it was first offered, you were adamant that you wanted to stay with the Order of the Pyre.”

Emery made sure he turned his face away from Siavash before he opened his eyes; he stared ponderously into the fire instead. When he raised his hand, he could see the years of accumulated burns from his Reckonings scarred all along his forearm. For the first time in a long time, there was no compulsion to hold himself aloft over the flames.

“I was wrong,” he said softly. “I was wrong, and you were right. I was going back to what was familiar because I was scared. Scared of… everything, I guess. Everything being all… different. I don’t know. It’s hard to say.”

Emery felt warm arms shift around him and pull him close, and he was barely able to slide his cup onto the nearby table. He looked up to see Siavash beaming down at him, and it was so infectious and familiar and gods he missed it so much that he couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sia murmured. “I understand. And I’m just glad that you’re here—soaking wet at my doorstep or otherwise.”

“You’re not funny,” Emery said through a mirthful chuckle. “Poor Tiger was more wet than I was.” The cat in question had curled up in the plush chair nearby, purring louder than the thunder outside.

“But you didn’t see you,” Siavash countered, flicking Emery’s chin up with a gentle tap of his finger. He leaned in. “Hair all stuck to your face, eyes all wide. You looked like a drowned rat.”

“You think you’re charming?” Emery asked softly, closing the distance between them. Tea forgotten on the table with the sodden flowers, he braced his hand against Siavash’s chest as their lips met. Sia was as warm and sweet as he remembered, and his reciprocation was delicate, as if he might scare Emery off.

Siavash’s touch traced down his arm before clasping his free hand, and he was the one to pull away from the kiss first. Emery could’ve gotten lost in his eyes if it weren’t for the furrow of his brow.

“Does this mean you’re staying?” Siavash asked.

“If you’ll have me,” Emery said. “I know it’s not the proper way, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night. I thought the flowers might endear you to the thought of letting me stay, at least just for one—“ He found himself cut off as Siavash raised his hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“I missed you,” Siavash said. “And your smile.”

Emery could feel his heart pounding uselessly against his ribs, could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, combating the dark circles under his eyes. He looked away, still grinning.

He remembered the first time Siavash had kissed him like that—it felt like a lifetime ago in those distant stables. Emery still harbored the same hopes deep inside, and Sia’s eyes still harbored that same addictive adoration that would make anyone’s insides jump.

“I missed you, too. More than anything else,” he said. “I don’t know what is in store for me now. Now that I’m not… knight-commander, now that my father is dead. Whatever it is, though, I want it to be with you.”

Suddenly his world spun, and Emery found himself on his back, cushioned between Siavash and the soft blanket underneath him. He laughed, watching the dark mirth of Sia’s eyes reflect the firelight.

“What are you doing, hm?” He asked, but Sia’s teasing kisses upon his hand and down his scarred wrist didn’t stop.

Siavash paused in his kisses just long enough to answer.

“Making up for lost time. No better time to start than now.”

“Won’t we have plenty of time for that?” Emery asked, but his voice softened with a sigh. Siavash pressed kiss after kiss down to his elbow before switching to the other arm, granting it the same treatment.

He wasn’t sure when his shirt came off or when one of his hands got tangled in the silken strands of Siavash’s hair, but Emery keened softly when Sia’s lips found their way to add a warm kiss atop the scar that split down the center of his chest. A final Reckoning, of sorts. His tangled hand tightened into a fist, and he heard Siavash’s hearty laugh echo in the space between their warm bodies.

Siavash lifted his head up just enough to peer at him; cast against the golden firelight, Emery knew he had made the right choice. No pyre could ever come close to being so beautiful.

He didn’t know what the morning would bring. As Siavash pressed their lips together once more, it was the first time that Emery felt peace with plunging into the unknown. As long as he had Sia there by his side, he could face anything.

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

I’m not a metadede shipper but I agree with their beliefs (Meta Knight perching on Dedede’s shoulder at any opportunity)

[erytherion]

Going to pull a Kim Dokja here and tell everyone that they should definitely go read The World After The Fall (novel version) all the way to the end because it is SO AMAZING and very very similarly mind-fucky about universes and reality and imagination and legitimate scientific theories you can go research about but the majority of the story itself feels mostly like a silly and bizarre action plot, when really it hits you with so many deep and philosophical quandaries and feels that you really don’t realise til the end and then you bawl your eyes out, kinda like what happens with ORV. I don’t want to spoil it by giving specifics, but like… it’s truly SO WEIRD that you will undoubtedly question how an author actually decided to go with those options, but obviously they had every reason to choose those metaphors and bizarre choices, yet you’re still left a bit like “What the actual fuck?” even after knowing how weird it is.

DEFINITELY BE CAREFUL if you experience delusions as part of your mental health though! They hit so many of my own at the end, I was so so glad that ORV had already given me actual psychosis beforehand so I knew how to take it in stride and not let it make me spiral. On the plus side, if you DO have the same type of mental illness as me, the story is even MORE relatable than ORV (or maybe like, relatable for different reasons to it, since ORV is still really cool too!) This only really applies to the latter third of the book though.

Anyways, READ THE WORLD AFTER THE FALL! Sing-Shong are geniuses with their stories and you don’t always realise til the end when they hit you with all the extra realisations! It truly is so impressive and also a little aggravating because GUYS BE NICE TO ME! But they’re already nice since they shared it with us, it just feels mean because then we get pulled into all their stories’ meta bullshit as a result.

[mjfass]

I need to go to a psychologist who likes wrestling so they can tell me what my favorite wrestlers say about me.

[toxicrevolver]

Tagged by @smushedmuffin to do this character headcanon generator

thanks for the tag!!! (Also no worries about being behind on tag games. Life happens. Take your time.)

Uhhhh. I got attacked. IT’S NOT EVEN A HEAD CANON. IT’S JUST CANON AT THIS POINT. THIS WAS SERIOUSLY THE FIRST THING I GOT.

I did it a second time just for funsies.

It’s still true. I quit.

Tagging (no pressure): @we-survive-endlessly @haahka @loveable-sea-lemon @serendipminie @accal1a and if anyone else wants to participate feel free to blame me

[clownjacket]

Her 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜