#they figure it out

[lifegrowsfromashes]

Scar stares up at the moon, from where he lays down in his bed. Grian’s across from him, muttering into the darkness, laying on top of the covers and tucking his head into his wings.

The air smells like dirt.

He thinks of the past day. Of the shouting. He wonders whether Grian will talk to him tomorrow.

He didn’t mean to lose a life. he never does, but something always happens. Grian knows he’s not as strong as the other hermits, but he still refuses to recognise it, and always expects more from Scar than he’s able to give. It was once they’d gotten to the desert that his face became harder, that something began to set behind his eyes.

He sighs. The perfectly arranged checkerboard of stars stare back at him, silent. Grian’s snoring, but just a little. He wonders if avians usually snore.

Scar breathes in the smell of their dirt house, and wonders whether he’ll be able to make it up to him.

He was joking around, when it happened. The sand was getting into his armour and he felt creaky all over. He’d known it was getting to Grian, but hadn’t realised the extent of his annoyance. Communication was… never a strong point.

They had started getting snappy with each other, at about midday. Scar’s limbs were aching, and he needed to rest, but Grian kept talking about how there were no torches around here and if they stopped now, they’d get eaten alive. And Scar didn’t want to think about that, so he tried to tell a joke, and Grian went all tense and funny, and said, through gritted teeth, ‘you’re seriously making a joke right now?’ and he didn’t have time to see the creeper coming up from behind him.

Something had hardened in Grian’s eyes. The urgency when he told him to run. The enchanted shine of his diamond sword coming out of its hilt.

Scar hadn’t realised. The sand had slowed down his reflexes. Once he turned around to fight, he only heard a hiss, and then- white.

The funny thing about dying here was that you didn’t feel the pain, specifically. It’s more, like, God, this should hurt. But nothing comes. Just a choice, to keep going, or to leave. 

Scar hated the artificiality of it. Death always felt so- unreal. For some players, it was the end of everything, but to him, it was more of a reminder. A taunt. He knew he'd never last long enough to escape its clutches.

When he came back, he felt lighter. Emptier. Something, some intangible thing, had withered his soul, a little. He looked up at where his nametag resided to see it was a sickly yellow. And then, coming over the dune of sand- Grian. Sat there, in the crevice the creeper had made, sorting his belongings into a chest.

Grian’s fists were curled tightly over the lump of gold in his hands. The totem. The totem Grian had told him, over and over, to use in an emergency, to keep by him at all times. The totem Scar had stored in a shulker.

Scar did his best to pick everything up off the floor, and to sort it all out into his inventory, But Grian had such a tight hold on that totem of undying, and when Scar asked for it back, Grian’s eyes began to shine with tears. And then he started shouting. 

It was all the usual things. Scar didn’t react fast enough, Scar couldn’t pull his weight, Grian was always picking up the slack, and why couldn’t he last longer than five minutes? And didn’t he know he’s only got three chances, and he’s already down to two? 

Scar got pretty good at taking it. The thing was, he knew the reason why. the real reason. 

Grian hated watching him die.

But he’d never say that. Instead they were trapped in this loop of Scar messing up, and Grian exploding, and him doing everything, everything he could, to fix it.

Usually, Mumbo would be the one to sort out their differences. Mumbo would tell them somthing to calm him down, something easy, about their explosive personalities. 

Scar wonders where he is, now. After the Warden had appeared, anyone who was able to survive that first attack had ran as far as they could. They hadn’t heard anything for the other Hermits for- well, it had been too long to tell.

Scar turns over to face Grian again. He looks so peaceful when he slept. There's still that fire, though, behind his eyes, the memory of his voice scorching Scar’s ears. But, as Mumbo said, that was how you knew he cared. Scar knew he cared. He just wishes he could show it in a way that was less… aggressive. He feels like the only way he could find out how Grian really felt about something was through fighting. And, God, he's so tired of fighting.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 65

Geralt and Jaskier attend a flower festival at a village. Geralt notices that everyone is giving each other flower bouquets, wreaths, and crowns, so Geralt decides to make a gift for Jaskier. The festival has buttercups, but not dandelions, so he has to pick some himself, add in a few cornflowers because they reminded him of Jaskier's eyes, and bam! It's done! He gifts it to Jaskier, and Jaskier is very touched, thanking Geralt profusely, and giving him a kiss. Jaskier meanwhile, is just absolutely flabbergasted that Geralt gave him courting flowers! It's a dream come true!

[vigilskeep]

want to be clear that josie does not handle trevelyan having a daughter very well at all. pretty much worse initial reaction than everyone else. she’s like. Oh. I... See. [scrambles to remember what her siblings liked at that age] do you like. dolls? and lilith is like, i’m ten years old. and josephine is like yes, of course, while awkwardly positioning herself between lilith and her own concealed doll collection. do you like... [buffering noises] ... treaties?

[lvl100hummuswarrior]

Last yap for now because I have to do so much shit today but I hope some day I can go back to my Ice Betty AU.

I've been thinking a lot about how she would have reacted to Marcy, I feel like Betty is at least initially the kind of person who fucking hates kids. Simon thought he was too, or at least that he was never equipped to be a parent, but he immediately turns into a dad once the situation calls for it.

Betty begins to feel weirdly threatened by Marcy's presence, as though this sick orphan toddler is going to usurp her position as Simon's favorite. Simon finally asks Betty what the fuck she's doing and as Betty begins to verbalize her insecurities, the realization that she's Becoming Her Mother hits her like a brick.

She spends the next week trying to be a fun mom for Marcy. Initially out of guilt and a need to overcompensate, but eventually just out of a fondness for this kid, who is really good at not being as annoying as she expected. They become total partners in crime, and Marcy learns a new bad word every day. It is beautiful.

[realtacuardach]

A New Journey

Entry for Day 1 of the Obiyuki Do-Si-Do @snowwhite-andtheknight

Summary: Shirayuki gets Obi in the divorce, and they go off on botanical adventures.

~~~

“Delicious!” Kihal exclaimed with pleasure around the tangy-sweet bite of apple, and leaned back against the trunk, her shoulder brushing against Shirayuki’s.

“There’s more where that came from,” Obi called from above, reaching casually to the side and pulling another apple from the branch beside him. “Heads up, miss,” he called, and sent the fruit tumbling down towards her.

She grabbed the apple, shined it vigorously on her coat sleeve, and took a bite. “Thanks, Obi!”

Giving her a salute, he settled against the trunk, arms folded and head pillowed on the fine uniform jacket he had folded in a way that would definitely have given Mitsuhide a conniption. After a few minutes, she noticed that his eyes had slid shut, light snores reaching her ears. Shirayuki smiled.

“He seems comfortable,” Kihal grinned, peeling a slice of apple before offering a piece to Popo, who took it into his beak with a pleased trill. “He isn’t going to fall, is he?”

“No,” Shirayuki assured her. “He’s almost more at home in trees than on the ground.”

“He does look relaxed,” Kihal said, and took another bite of her apple. She hummed contentedly. “So good, I wish we had these on the island.”

“You don’t?” Shirayuki asked, and then immediately felt a little foolish. From what she had heard from Kihal and Zen, the climate of the island was entirely different from Clarines.

Kihal shook her head. “We have mangos and papayas and dragonfruit, and uh, a bunch of other kinds of fruit. But no apples.”

Shirayuki chewed thoughtfully as she imagined biting into one of the fruits so familiar to the other, that she herself had only read descriptions or viewed diagrams in books. “I really want to try some of those someday.”

Kihal lunged forward in her usual burst of enthusiasm, the apple falling into her lap with an audible thunk as she clasped Shirayuki’s hands with both of her own. “You should come visit!” She exclaimed. “I can show you all the best trees, the best times of day to pick them, the best tricks to find the sweetest ones! The island is so beautiful.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Shirayuki laughed. “But I’m not sure when you’ll be able to get away.”

“Oh,” Kihal sounded surprised, and then curled a little in on herself, her earnest grip loosening on Shirayuki’s hands. “Oh, Shirayuki, I should have thought – I’m so sorry.”

Tightening her own hold on Kihal’s hands in response, Shirayuki leaned forward. “Kihal,” she said calmly but firmly, as she had the other times this concern had reared its head in their conversations, “you have nothing to be sorry about. Zen and I parting ways had absolutely nothing to do with you, we’d been drifting apart for a while.”

Read the rest on AO3 here!

[wildmtthyme]

What is Love? Baby, don't hurt me.

Simon doesn't believe in love. He thinks it's the greatest lie ever told, experience has taught him that. Not personal experience, but experience nonetheless. Never mind the fact that he's in a long-term relationship. Never mind the fact that him and his girlfriend live together. Never mind the fact that they have a dog. All of this doesn't matter until he's confronted with that very topic he hates so much. And then his world is tipped upside down when his best mate is KIA. Simon is forced to take a hard look at his life afterwards.

Master List can be found here.

Chapter 5: The Alternative.

Warnings: Emotionally distant Simon. Arguing? Angst. Plan-B talk/use. Simon being Simon.

<- Chapter 4. Bad Coping Mechanisms.

The next morning, he woke before her and eased himself away from her… his mind already racing as he went into the bathroom and cleaned up his clothing and gear. He took it to the laundry room and started the washer before he went into the kitchen to start the kettle. His own voice echoed in his head… [I love you… Marry me…]he shook his head sharply and scrubbed at his face with a heavy sigh. He made his tea with a frown marring his brow… he’d been in… a bad, bad place when he’d come to the flat last night. Morning.

His spine immediately stiffened when her sleepy voice filled the silence. He pulled one of her smaller mugs down and set it on the counter, dropping one of her tea bags in it before pouring the water in and backing off, turning to lean against the opposing counter. “Mornin’.” His voice came out rough sounding, more so than usual. He sipped at his Earl Grey quietly. His eyes flicked up to her but immediately darted away. He saw her drift over to monitor her tea… but the silence that fell over them was… different.

Her voice came out… so small. You didn’t mean any of it. She didn’t say it like a question. He paused mid-sip… lowering the mug and taking a shallow breath before he looked over at her. But she wasn’t looking at him… her hands were resting on the counter on either side of her mug, her shoulders sagged. He swallowed thickly as he twisted and set his mug down on the counter, folding his arms over his chest before he spoke.

“No.” He could almost hear it… like a rolling metal door slamming down for the way her eyes slammed shut, her chin tilting towards her shoulder away from him. The silence felt… like a thousand knives. And the lie tasted like vinegar on his tongue. He expected her to walk out of the room, to remain quiet, like she did whenever he hurt her with his callousness.

What he didn’t expect was for her to turn on him, her eyes flashing with anger. She took a step towards him and had she not been so small, he would have readied himself… he’d seen that look in the face of many others before… it was a threat of violence. But she stopped herself, instead. She flashed her teeth when she nearly growled at him.

His throat clicked when he swallowed, his arms tensing. You want to pull back on the whole marry me bullshit, fine. That’s fine, don’t expect you to ever make that kind of commitment to me. But don’t you ever fucking say you love me again if you don’t fucking mean it. You may think you’re a mean son-of-a-bitch Simon but I know you, as much as you like to think I don’t. But I do. And one thing you aren’t is a fucking liar. I know you were out of your mind last night, I get that, I do. But you didn’t have to fucking lie to me. His brow lowered over eyes that had gone glassy with trapped emotion as she railed against him, her voice rising and falling with conviction and her own emotion.

A muscle jumped in his jaw and though he didn’t speak, her brows shot up and she gestured outwards in a ‘what’ motion. Either you lied last night or you’re lying now, either way! Fucking hell, Simon! She wiped her face with a certain air of frustration as a tear skipped down her face. She turned away from him and finished making her tea, throwing the tea bag away with sharp, jerky movements before she picked up her mug and took it with her, moving out of the kitchen and heading back towards the bedroom. “Where are you going?” He couldn’t help the question. She never took anything other than water back there, her own weird rule!

The only thing that answered him was a slammed door. He cursed under his breath and scrubbed at his face again before he took a punishingly large swallow of his own hot tea.

Twenty minutes later, he was sitting at the dinning room table when the bedroom door reopened. He looked up to see her walk into the kitchen, dressed for the day, freshly showered, and setting her apparently empty mug into the sink. She walked quickly to the door, pulling her coat off the hook and tugging it on. “Where are you going?” He felt like a broken record at this point. She sighed and shook her head. To the pharmacy.

“Why?” He looked slightly confused as she pulled her purse off the hook and gathered her keys off the small entry way table, putting them in her pocket before she sat down on the bench just there and started working her shoes on… but upon his follow up question, she jerked upright and pinned him with an exasperated look. To get the fucking morning after pill, Simon! His spine straightened and he swallowed thickly again.

He felt a strange pit open up in his stomach and before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, crossing the small space between them and pushing his hand against the door just as she tried to open it. “What?! Hang on.” She looked up at him with a certain amount of surprise before she sighed. Ya know, plan b or whatever. She gestured off to the side. You didn’t wear a—he held a hand up. “No, no… I know all of that but why are you going to go get one?”

Her expression shifted as she just stared at him for a moment. Disbelief of the bad kind was plastered on her face. Are you fucking serious right now? He pressed his lips together and gave a curt nod. She gestured towards the kitchen. You can’t even decide if you love me or not and you want me to fucking just let the dice roll on having a kid with you?

The corner of his mouth twitched. A tell of his and one she clearly picked up on. He took a deeper breath and another step closer to her, watching as she gave him a warning look. Just… move. She pushed at his wrist… and then his chest but not really, her hands were there and there was some pressure but not near enough for him to take her move seriously. He reached up and cupped her cheek gently.

“Let me make this perfectly clear.” He murmured low, wishing his voice would stop trying to run away from this… hell, wishing that he would stop trying to run away from this. “I do love you. I just…” He sighed and let his head fall, resting his forehead against hers. He heard her return sigh. You’re scared, I get it. But I can’t… she hung her hand on his forearm and he watched her eyes shutter. You can’t play with me like that, Simon. He nodded. And I’m still going to the pharmacy. He winced around his eyes but nodded again.

He couldn’t help the chill that was settling in his chest, though. She looked at him strangely for a moment as he straightened, lifting his brow off of her. Hey… he flicked his eyes away from her, feeling discomfort settle over him like a weighted blanket.

Her hand settled on the center of his chest. Look at me. He sighed and did as she said, staring down into her beautiful eyes. Don’t think this is because I don’t ever want to have your kids, Simon. He pressed his lips together tightly, his jaw tensing. But I don’t want you to ever regret it, do you understand what I’m telling you? He gave a slight nod. “Lem’me get dressed and I’ll come with you.” The look she gave him was almost chastising. I don’t need—he shook his head at her. “I want to.”

So, that’s what he did. He got dressed and walked with her down the street to the pharmacy. It wasn’t far… but it was a quiet morning. He still felt… off kilter. His entire world had shifted in a matter of days and as he held her hand in his, he couldn’t help but wonder what it meant for them. Though he’d tried to back pedal on her… he had meant what he’d told her last night. He wanted her to be with him for the rest of their lives… he did want to marry her… and the thought of losing her was… he just couldn’t think of it. It’d throw him straight over whatever edge he had left, he was certain of it.

Maybe he was old fashioned in his thinking or hadn’t kept up with the times but he found it surprisingly easy for her to get the pill she needed. He read the packaging insert three times before he relented and let her take it. He didn’t want her hurting her body over this. Even though she’d argued that it wouldn’t be sold if it would hurt her… he wasn’t trusting that. He watched her closely for the rest of the day… she seemed okay, if feeling tired. It was… strangely easier to focus on this and her than it was to focus on the fact that he’d lost his best mate. Anything to not think of that.

He knew he had a lot of work to do when it came to the two of them but he was grateful she was there for him when he got back from watching Johnny’s ashes flutter away on the wind. He didn’t speak but he didn’t need to, either. She let him just curl up with her on the couch, use her soft stomach as a gentle place to land. He held her lightly, worried he’d crush her if he held her as tightly as he wanted. Not going anywhere, Si. She had whispered so damned softly. He could do nothing more than nod.

Funny thing was that he was always trying to teach Johnny, being older than him and having more experience. But it was Johnny that ended up teaching him his most valuable lesson learned. Love wasn’t a lie. It was real. And it was right here in his arms. The love he felt for Melissa was so damned strong that it nearly took his breath away sometimes. But he wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Johnny taught him that. He drifted off to the feeling of her fingers combing through his hair, nice and slow.

[astronnova]

yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[hansoeii]

the honda odyssey, huh?

[zelkams-art]

in all timelines in all possibilities only you can show me this

[kenapiece-main]

Can you believe I'm having to make this meme even after successfully finishing up taxes and applying to job

[daftpatience]

this messed up vintage cat sewing pattern has tormented me since i saw it & like some other folks have done in that post - i tried my hand at tweaking the pattern to resemble the illustration (and my personal tastes) a little more. i've ended up with this. i bestow it upon you nice folks now 👐

(update 2, added instructions & it's also on my Kofi!)

go forth and make weird little beanbag kittens! pls show me if you do!

[monstermonger]

Holly berries!

[shamebats]

[the-punforgiven]

Show up at work like hi boss sorry I'm late my I was helping my mother track down one specific 90s dungeon crawler for the purposes of obtaining a muffin recipe the developer hid in the files

[morganbritton132]

No one tells you when you get a Big Serious Job™ how many fucking abbreviations you’ll be forced to learn.