#wrote this in about five minutes

[jfleamont]

“And in the end

the love you take

is equal to the love you make.”

The Beatles, 'The End'

The sounds coming from the kitchen are her favourite. Shortly after Harry was born, she wondered if she would ever grow accustomed to her baby boy's laughter.

Now, she's sure she'll never grow tired of it.

As she enters the kitchen, her gaze falls on the other boy that occupies her thoughts all day, every day.

“— and there he is, Potter, heading for the hoops and it looks like he's going to score!” as he says this, Harry opens his mouth eagerly and eats the last of his dinner from the spoon his dad is holding. James cheers, and Harry joins him, squealing jumping in his seat.

Lily watches the scene from the door: James is sitting in front of the little boy, who is flailing his arms happily at the sound, and Lily can't help but laugh. At this, James turns to her and he beams. “He wasn't cooperating, so I had to intervene,” he explains.

She walks up to them, gently caressing Harry's head. “James, I'm pretty sure your son was doing it on purpose.”

“He did say 'kiwitch', which, in hindsight, must have meant that he wanted to hear my Quidditch commentary. I'm afraid I've been manipulated.”

“Oh, poor you,” she leans down to kiss James and he reacts immediately, automatically wrapping his hands around her waist to draw her closer.

When she pulls away, James' eyes are still closed, and Lily presses a soft kiss to each eyelid, his lashes tickling her lips. She pulls away and his eyes flutter open, and Lily notices how tired he looks.

Tired, but happy.

She sighs and, after pecking him one last time, she disentangles from him and turns to Harry, who, instead, looks quite awake and excited, smiling at her, green eyes wide and playful.

“Come on, it's late, boys. Party's over,” she announces. It's not actually late, but it has been a long day and she needs rest just as much as her husband.

James gets up and hugs her from behind, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Hey, happy Halloween,” he whispers against her ear.

“Happy Halloween, love.”

Read it on AO3

[everybodyshusband]

uhhh in My Feels™️ so woe, ansgt be upon ye !!!

disabled rain, angst, hurt/not much comfort, it's just sad and a bit weird and bad i'm sorry ksdfjnsfkdf divider by the icon that is @/wrathofrats

Rain is a jealous ghoul. He’s always known it.

It’s fun, sometimes. Fun to let his packmates play with his jealousies until he just can’t help but snap. Until he’s got one of them over his lap, turned on beyond belief, skin red hot, as they beg for his mercy. As they apologise for daring to belong to anyone but him.

So yes, his jealousy is fun, but he never expected for it to manifest like this.

The first time, he thought he was just overtired. Anger boiling inside of him caused by lack of sleep the previous night rather than jealousy of one of his packmates. After all, this is a stupid thing to be jealous about, and the night before, well… He’d been rather too busy being taken apart inch by painstaking inch by Zephyr to really have had any modicum of decent sleep at all. So again, why was he jealous? Why is he still jealous? What motive did he have to be jealous of the ghoul that was in his bed only the night before?

It wasn’t until Aeon was summoned that he figured it out. Until the sensation of his blood boiling could be tied to more than just an abstract feeling of annoyance bubbling under his skin. With Aeon, he’s never felt his usual jealousy—the quintessence ghoul is in his bed more often than not, so why would he? What he has felt however, has been that awful, sick feeling of hatred every time that new ghoul stumbles. Complains of his ailments. Asks to borrow one of Zephyr’s old canes or pairs of forearm crutches for stability on a particularly bad day.

That’s when it had all clicked together. Aeon. Zephyr. Sometimes even Mountain or Cumulus.

But never Rain.

His jealousy stems from the fact that they get help. They are allowed to be in pain, to be uncomfortable. They have a reason. They have been seen by Omega, by Aether, by the team in the infirmary, and they all have something different about them.

Rain doesn’t.

Rain, with the hyperextended legs that apparently cause him no medical difficulties and yet still stumbles during practice or onstage. Rain, with the perfect iron count whose vision still turns to static when he stands up. Rain, with joints that ache, bones that pop, a head that never quite seems to be able to pay attention as well as the others, but he’s fine. No matter how hard he presses that something is wrong, he’s fine. Nevermind that he’s been Up Top for years, nevermind that he’s done all that he can to treat this on his own. Nevermind that he’s getting worse. He’s fine, at least that’s what Aether had told him the last time he took a trip to the infirmary.

So yes, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of Zephyr’s chair on their bad days and the fact that Aeon feels no shame in asking to borrow mobility aids from ghouls that aren’t using them. He’s jealous that Cumulus only needs to ask Aether for a wrist splint before one is in her lap, being meticulously fastened by the quintessence ghoul himself. He’s tried to reign it in, the intensity of his emotions about this, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t. He knows it’s not anyone’s fault, least of all Aeth’s or Meg’s—they’re just doing their jobs, there’s protocol they have to follow—but that knowledge doesn’t stop the jealousy, the aggravation, the hatred of his beloved packmates for simply existing in a way that he’s not allowed to. For getting help in a way that he’s too scared to ask for.

He often thinks that perhaps this is why he’s so angry, so jealous. It’s his own fault he can’t—won’t—ask for help from any of them. He knows he’s allowed to. He knows that Aether and Omega would be more than happy to bend the rules a little to help him out, or that Zephyr wouldn’t mind lending him a (literal) something to lean on when Rain needs it. But he’s scared. Scared that if they can help, he won’t be in pain anymore and he’s been lying this whole time. And scared that if they can’t, that he’s unfixable, untreatable. That this vessel is just another one of God’s mistakes that Satan never bothered to fix. Maybe it is. Maybe there’s no fixing him. No helping him.

He hopes that’s not the case. As much as getting whatever this is fixed scares him, he knows he can’t go on like this forever. His pack knows it too. Zephyr had noticed it first. They’d sat him down one day in their room and had simply waited until it had all come pouring out in a mess of tears and snot and helplessness. Since then, the pack have known what’s been happening and as a collective, they’ve been doing their best to help him. It’s nice, he thinks. For them to be so kind to a being as broken as himself. One day he’ll try his best to repay them all. For now though, he just needs to work up the energy to swing his legs over the edge of his mattress, to muster up the courage to call Aeon and ask for his help, and maybe a cane.

Or maybe he’ll just stay in bed a while longer...

[m4gp13]

@bvckbiter 's lukethan doodles has put kronos/luke/ethan on my brain so now I'm stuck thinking about that

Lukethan have the dynamic of Ethan being a former camper in cabin 11 who joined Luke in his rebellion (and seemed to believe that Luke was still fighting Kronos' possession in tlo) and became a soldier fighting under Luke.

Lukronos has that toxic yaoi of Kronos being a guiding hand and corrupting influence on Luke until he was all that Luke had left to the point that he took over Luke('s body) and the forced intimacy of Kronos being inside of Luke's head.

but I also love the idea of Luke having this affection for Ethan that, because Kronos is in his head, Kronos picks up on, and Kronos doesn't really care for mortals but as the lines between him and Luke start blurring, the distinction between Luke's desires and Kronos' also starts getting weird. Kronos' feelings towards Ethan aren't quite the same as the affection that Luke feels, instead he is just strangely fascinated with Ethan as a person because of what his proximity does to Luke (and Kronos, by extension) and Ethan mostly ends up being kept so close to Kronos so that he can indulge this fascination (and because this mortal vessel gives him an annoying compulsion to keep that boy around).

And Ethan is not having a great time. He knows that the person he's talking to isn't Luke. Kronos doesn't treat him like Luke did, he doesn't talk like Luke or act like Luke or do anything the way that Luke used to. But every now and then he catches a glimpse of Luke peeking through, whether it's the odd word in a voice that sounds more like Luke than Kronos, or Luke's arm catching him when Ethan trips. And, while the person behind the eyes isn't Luke, the body is. Whenever Ethan looks at him, he doesn't know if he's looking at the immortal titan lord or the boy he loves. Sometimes, when Kronos is just sitting down or looking at papers, Ethan can sometimes trick himself into thinking it's just Luke, so when Kronos wants to indulge his fascination by calling Ethan over, Ethan just lets him.

And maybe part of Kronos, knowing that Luke is still a conscious presence in their shared body and is trying to fight Kronos' control, is spending so much time with Ethan as a way to toy with and punish Luke. He knows how dangerous he could be to Ethan, and he knows that Luke is keenly aware of this, so he enjoys calling Ethan over and making vague threats disguised as conversation just to make Luke squirm, while Ethan sees through to all of these threats and doesn't know if Luke's hold over his body is strong enough to protect Ethan should Kronos ever chose to act on any of these threats.

But Kronos would never act on them, not without just cause. He has too much fun playing with these two, and that unconscious part of his brain that was probably borrowed from Luke would never let him do any harm to Ethan. At least not permanent harm.

[onward--upward]

wip wednesday!

thanks to my beloveds @eusuntgratie @lemmeaskthedevil and @firenati0n for the tags!

we already know what we're doin here....

tashi pov again! enjoy x

She only slips once, and she pays for it every day for the rest of her goddamn life. How is that fair? How is it fair that Art played an entire season as if he’d shut down 95% of his brain function, and he still finished with a Career Slam? How is it fair that Patrick fucking Zweig has spent an entire decade flaming out with overly-emotional tennis in Challengers across the world and he’s never so much as torn a ligament? Tashi remembers watching a recording of the game he’d played on the day she married Art: he’d been all over the place, shattering his rackets into the ground, back-talking the umpire, smashing one unforced error after another until he was snarling.  He'd been playing emotionally, just like Tashi had been on the worst day of her life, but he was so much worse. Sloppier, more reckless, overflowing with so much angry misery that you could practically taste it on the air around him. If there was anyone who knew what it was like to lose control on the court, it was Patrick Zweig. Honestly, Tashi wasn’t sure he’d ever had control to begin with — just instinct.  So why did she have to be the one to lose her first love?  (Well. Maybe that’s unfair to Patrick. She’s pretty sure that they both lost their first loves that day. The difference, though, is that Patrick always had the ability to win Art back — they fractured, that day, but look at them now. By contrast, Tashi did her very best to win tennis back to her, and it was never enough. And now that Art’s retiring, the closest thing to a reunion that she’s ever had is leaving her, too.)

no pressure tags to some pals! @shitouttabuck @beyourownanchor6 @insecuregodcomplex @eddiebabygirldiaz @okaybutlikemakeitgay

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

cw explicit content (handjobs)

I am once again thinking about DOM PERCY! and going insane.

what do you mean a scene like this doesn’t play on loop in your brain:

Jasons’s eyes squeeze shut, head pressing into the rough brick as he tries to lean out of this touch, out of this pleasure.

“You say you don’t want it Grace,” Perseus smirks, arrogance dancing on the lilt of his words, “Muttering no over and over again. But this…”

And Jason sucks in a breath as Percy presses hard on his crotch. The relief in that hold is enough to make his eyes roll back.

“This is telling me you’re enjoying what I’m doing.”

Percy nips at his ear, licks a delirious path across the curve of his throat and up into his mouth. Jason moans. Curses himself for it.

They can hear people clattering about on the other side of the wall, spilling out at the opposite end of the dark alley.

They’ve been secluded for some time, but there’s the thrill of not knowing if they’re alone.

Percy latched onto it so fast it made Jason’s legs weak. He’d leaned on his friend for support and it had been the end of their innocent facade.

“Fuck Pers,” He groans, bucks into the hand in his pants, pulls his body further up the wall.

Percy’s voice is rough as it slides through him, taunting, unforgiving. “Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying this, little soldier.”

“Someone could see–“

“Isn’t that what you’re hoping for? Someone to stumble upon us and watch you succumbing to me?”

“Hnnghh” Is his elegant reply. He bites his lip, desperate to stop the pleasure spilling into the night air. Into his captor’s ego.

“Look at you getting hard for me,” Pretty stab at his worry. “Leaking into my palm at the idea of getting caught.”

Jason closes his eyes. Can’t bear to face the reality. He’s getting jacked off in an alleyway while his friends celebrate his graduation just behind the wall he writhes against. And he likes it. Fuck.

“Want to cum?”

“Please Pers.” He’s gasping, morality chasing sunsets three time zones from now. “Please.”

Sickening pride fills up his lungs. “Good boy.”

Percy slants his mouth over Jason’s and swallows his pleasure with a grin.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey sweetheart. I got this idea maybe you can do something with it? Thena is scared of eating food that isn’t sealed and made by her because she got food poisoned by someone (friend group/ex/collegue/father/or whatever you choose) so Gil, her husband or boyfriend, does a taste tasting before every meal even if he cooked it.

"You made it!"

Thena smiled at Gil from over the counter of his warm and homey restaurant. He had told her to come a half hour before he closed. it was their quietest night of the week, and he usually let his other staff go early. It could be just them.

Really, he had been trying to convince her to come to the restaurant for quite a while. He understood she had trouble eating out, but he wanted to share his food with her, and she wanted to experience it.

She kept telling herself Gil's food would be different.

Gil's food would be lovingly made. It was food he shared with everyone who came to his restaurant. There were other customers who tried it everyday, there were health inspectors who made sure everything was safe. And most importantly, it was made by Gil.

But still, she couldn't shake her fear.

The way her whole body trembled at the thought of food she hadn't made for herself. She would feel cold sweat on her palms as she remembered the burning sensation she had felt in her throat. That food had also been 'made with love', as far as she had known.

"Hey," Gil rushed to the edge of the counter, leaning over it as if he could jump over it completely to greet her.

"Hey," she managed to smile. Gilgamesh always acted so happy to see her, as if it were the highlight of his day. She leaned over to kiss him. She could already taste whatever he'd been cooking on his lips.

Gil knew. She hadn't had much choice but to tell him. After his seventh attempt at asking her to join him for dinner or even coffee, he had outright asked if he'd misread her--if she wasn't interested in seeing him. She had never rushed so fast to correct someone.

It was hard to 'date' when she was deathly afraid of eating food she hadn't prepared herself. She was trying, going to therapy, trying small steps, like having pre-made, sealed foods from convenience stores and the like.

She had told Gil about Kro, and the 'anniversary dinner' that had nearly left her without any taste buds at all. Her time in the hospital, learning her partner had not, in fact, accepted her rejection of moving in together and had opted to poison her instead.

Nothing deadly, just enough to permanently scar her for life.

And she had been prepared to hear that she was blowing things out of proportion, letting her fear get the better of her, that she had to get over it. But he had looked at her, with that sweet face of his. And all he had to say was that he understood, and he wouldn't push it.

And he hadn't. They saw each other in ways that didn't centre food. They went to museums, and parks, and aquariums. She would get a sealed smoothie from the health section of a grocery store while he got a coffee, and they would talk. He had kept his promise, he didn't push it.

Only once did he offer her a bite of something reflexively, and she had just stared at it. He had retracted it, worried he was offending her. But really...it did look good. And she did like smoked salmon bagels. And she had wanted to have a bite.

"Oh," he had blinked with realisation. Then, he brought the bagel up to his own lips and took a bite, making sure to show her how he chewed and swallowed it. He even waited a few seconds before holding it out to her again. "What about now?"

And that was how they worked. Thena could broach her fear a little at a time, with Gil's help. He would taste test things for her, prove their harmlessness. And, upon seeing that there was no immediate danger, she could work up the courage to get through the rest.

And tonight was her ultimate test to herself. Had she come far enough in her fear to trust Gil's cooking without the need for him to test it for her first?

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered to her, lingering close despite them being the only ones there.

Thena still ducked her head, a smitten smile coming over her. She looked around the empty dining room. "Don't tell me you closed early just for this."

"Nah, this is just what it's like monday nights," Gil shrugged. He removed his hands from hers, dragging himself away and to his kitchen equipment.

There were plates sitting atop a shelf, being kept warm--probably too hot for anyone untrained to handle, actually. But Gil grabbed them with his bare hands and placed all three down in front of her. "Careful, babe."

She eyed him; how he handled such searing hot plates all day was beyond her. But she looked at the food. It looked and smelled delicious, and they were some of her favourites. There was steaming hot curry over fluffy rice, positively glistening slices of roast chicken, and even some pasta, seemingly dressed in a simple mix of oil and spices.

Her stomach churned.

"These are three specialties I developed in culinary school," Gil narrated as he rounded the counter properly so he could take a seat next to her. He pulled his apron off and unbuttoned the top of his chef's jacket. "And I adapted them to my menu here because--well, I guess, because why not?"

She smiled, trying to listen to him and not stare down the meal glaring at her. The smells were so tempting, but looking at the food still filled her with dread. "How did you come up with them?"

"Well, curry I always loved as a kid," he admitted with a boyish grin. He had such natural charm; she never would have been able to resist agreeing to go out with him, fear of food or not. "I kept developing little ways to make it the best curry for me. Then, when I started cooking seriously, I could start making it the best curry--period."

Thena looked at the curry, hoping she could muster the love for it that Gil had. It looked so good, warm and rich in colour, steam coming off it. She blinked as Gil reached past her, scooping up a mouthful for himself. She just stared as he chewed and gulped it down before moving on.

"The chicken is the first thing I really, really nailed in class," he grinned, moving onto his next creation. "It's pretty basic to learn how to roast a chicken, but I ended up drying out my first and second attempts, so I got determined to get it right."

He didn't even finish his story before picking up a slice of breast with the skin on. He had done amazing justice to it; she could see the juices of it dripping as he tossed it into his mouth without even need for utensils. He chewed a little.

"I spent hours going over my notes," he paused, finally gulping this one down loudly too. "Developed the perfect wet brine to keep it juicy, rotated it multiple times to keep it even, slathered it in butter--I went all out."

He certainly did; he was licking his fingers.

"And when I finally presented my success, I was top of the class," he declared with another bright grin. "The pasta-"

He paused, picking up her fork and twirling some around it. And for a second, she dreaded the thought that he was going to hold it up for her to try it, and she was going to have to overpower her own nervous system to make herself take a bite of her boyfriend's delicious food.

But once again, Gil took a bite of his own food himself, proving to her the harmlessness, and deliciousness. He slurped up the last tail end of a noodle, licking his lips. "I mean, alio e olio is actually a really common dish. But it's hard to make one stand out. And also I know you love garlic-y pasta."

"So in school, they teach you the traditional way to make it, but there are a lot of different techniques, some that have been developed really recently," he set her fork down again. "I tried one that's definitely the best, but takes a while. We pre-boil the noodles, but nowhere near being done. Then you seal them and basically let the steam get them just to the point where they'll be perfectly al dente when you finish them in the sauce."

Thena continued to stare at him.

Finally broken from his reverie of culinary exposition, he looked at her too. And the very sweet Gilgamesh that had first asked her out for coffee in the convenience store was right in front of her again.

"A-Are you okay?" he rushed to ask her, leaning in his stool and putting his hand on her arm. "Is it too much? You don't have to--I'm sorry."

She shook her head faintly.

"I shouldn't have rushed this, sweetheart," he continued to lament, moving his hand from her arm to clasp her hand between both of his. "Listen, we can just...put this on hold, y'know? There's nothing wrong with that. I can clean up here and hey!--h-how about coffee and a smoothie? Tomorrow we-"

Thena cut him off, lurching forward and kissing him so hard his word slurred right off his tongue and onto hers. Her free hand held his cheek, bringing him closer as if she was going to crawl into his lap right here in his own restaurant.

He blinked now, stunned as she pulled away from him. He ran his tongue over his lips a few times before his eyes managed to focus again. "Uh, no complaints hon, but...what's on your mind?"

She just laughed, shaking her head at him as she swiped at her lips, just to make sure her gloss was still in place. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?"

"No," he blurted out, because Gil was the type to blurt something out honestly and think second. And she adored that about him. His thoughts followed and he smiled too. "But if you wanna tell me...?"

She swiped at his lips this time, making sure her lip colour hadn't migrated to him unwittingly. "You tested it for me."

That definitely confused him. His expressions were so easy to read, his heart on his sleeve at all times. "Isn't that what we do?"

"Yes," she laughed again, fainter this time. She looked at the food again, her anxiety retreating to the deeper corners of her mind again. "But I hadn't expected...it's your food."

"So?"

As if she could be more in love with this man.

But he meant it. He moved their hands, lacing his fingers with hers and touching the hand of hers that was on his cheek. "Thena, my food is no different than any other restaurant's, any other grocery store sushi or cafe sandwich."

It was vastly different, because his food would taste vastly better.

He moved his head so he could kiss her palm. "I'll test anything for you, Thena. I would do anything for you."

She shook her head at him again, because what else could she do? Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to cry over food with him anymore.

Gli's smile returned. "I'll taste test everything for you, for as long as you want me to. I don't care if it's a little halloween candy bar or every hors d'oeuvre at a wedding buffet."

She laughed again, because he was good at making her laugh. "You can't do that."

"Why not?" he asked, and he meant it as a question. "My friends are getting married next summer. I'll be the official taste tester of everything. The appetizers, the meal, the cake."

Thena sighed, as deliriously happy as she was. "You can't taste test everything for me, Gilgamesh."

"I don't care," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her again. "It makes you feel safe, Thena. And I'll do anything to make that happen."

She kissed him back, no longer wondering if she was falling too hard and too fast for the earnest and endearing chef in front of her. She most certainly was. "You."

He pressed his lips to her forehead, and she could feel him smiling against her skin.

"You make me feel safe," she clarified, just in case there was any question at all. She got another kiss, assuring there wasn't.

"Hey," he whispered, pulling himself away from her but still hovering close. "Hungry?"

She nodded, blinking away more tears (happy, this time).

"Ready?" he asked as he twirled up some pasta for her.

And for the first time in a year and a half, she looked at the forkful of food with genuine desire. She was ready.

[nyquilfishtank]

commence the recreational essay writing

[rentfreeinmyskull]

led me to the floor even though i’m not a dancer!! ask me all the questions that your parents wouldn’t answer!! how could i deny a diamond in the rough!! YOU LET ME IN YOUR WORLD UNTIL YOU HAD ENOUGH !!!!! you knew that i wanted you to bend the rules!! how did i believe i had a hold on you???!!!

[monstermoviedean]

i've been dreading this friday afternoon budget meeting all week and telling myself "you just have to get through this and then you're in the clear." and it was predictably miserable until 4 minutes before the end when someone pointed out that we only had 4 minutes left and we hadn't even talked about the thing we needed to talk about. and then we had to schedule another meeting 😭😭😭😭

[cephalog0d]

I keep accidentally referring to Beast World as Beast Wars (a thing I know exactly nothing about besides the title and it's something to do with Transformers?) and odds are good that's going to continue forever at this point so that's just where we are. Sorry in advance.

[intcritus]

Jaochim.

It's a sleepy, raspy whisper as hands slide over his own from behind, the heat of the fictionologist at his back so early in the morning. When was the last time he'd heard his own name? Just how long had the mantle of Welt been his duty, his core personality. Jaochim had been a different person, probably not as serious and worn down as Welt, but he still existed for those who knew him back then.

Pausing in buttoning his shirt, the former Sovereign shifts in Gallagher's arms, facing him this time and leaning into his chest. Resting his forehead against the others, a tired, but fond smile curves his lips. Jaochim. It's only a name he wants to hear when it's the two of them, standing in the middle of his bedroom.

Part of Welt wants to be selfish with this. For when he thinks of decompressing, when he wants to just be anyone but himself, it's Gallagher he finds himself running to. He'd never understood craving someone, had thought it silly before Gallagher. But absence had made his heart fonder, had made it yearn for the companionship and touch and teasing of someone who knew him better than anyone else.

He likes the way his name rumbles from those lips, the scruff of his beard scratching across Welt's jaw and breath brushing his ear. His heart stutters in his chest and a huff leaves his lips, nose nudging along Gallaghers jaw, " Its too early for the wolf to consider me a snack. Hm, you'll have to rectify that when I'm not running late for the Express...."

raspy whispers and an affection felt across the universe. | @avaere

[mantisgodsdomain]

We should post our Vaugardian Marigold writing for Time Stop Resistance AU at some point but we haven't played enough of the game to be fully confident in publically releasing it especially since one of the things we've written for it involves Odile characterization we are not yet 100% confident in as we haven't fully seen her under pressure yet

[dovahkiining]

He asks me when I fell in love with him, and I'm too much of a coward to say that it was the first time I saw him. Too little, too late, with blood staining his hands and his blood staining mine. Maybe the love could've saved us. Maybe it doomed us. I tell him I realized after I had left. I tell him absence made the heart grow fonder. I don't tell him that it was his sickly-sweet childhood hands holding mine. I don't tell him it was the laugh that haunted me far past the first time I heard it. Maybe the love could have saved us, tangled twins in a town too small and too large. Maybe a world beyond ours exist where it did. Where our teen years aren't filled with ill-hidden repression and growing fights and stark sudden silence. Maybe there's a world where I say goodbye. Maybe there's a world where I mean it. He asks me when I fell in love with him, and I say right now, I say always, I say never, I say I wish I could've. They all taste like lies. There's still his blood on my hands, sticky and sweet and aching.

[ayakashibackstreet]

Finished the Enstars portion, friends <3

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

✨

Hiii thank you for the ask!! One ✨ = 1 sentence so I combined 4 of the ✨ you sent and let's call it even haha?

Make me write!!

“Your hair looks so pretty like this,” Satine tells Christian. He’s lying with his head in her lap while they listen to music together, waving his hands about like he’s conducting, a habit of his that makes Satine smile. At first Satine had simply been playing with his hair but then she’d decided to braid it. “It’s been getting so long.”

[agentravensong]

so, fun story: the playwriting professor i had this past year, my senior year of college, and really liked -- the one i quoted in this r & g are dead post -- has written some plays themself (not a surprise, i'm sure).

i asked them a while back for a copy of the script of what is, as far as i know, their only full two-act play, to read, for funsies. they finally sent the most recent draft to me a couple of days ago, and i just sat down and read it. i knew going in that it would be about two women in the modern day trying to discover what happened to the crew of a ship that disappeared in the artic in the 1840s, with one of the women being a young musician and the other being an older and more jaded scientist.

i did not know that in the half of the play set in the past, the two main guys would be a ros and guil duo. a love and rhetoric duo. in way over their heads, constantly getting on their crewmates' nerves and often wounding each other but, at the end of the day, reliant on each other and only each other. playing silly games to pass the time and keep their wits sharp. stuck on a boat, together, even. and, spoilers, but, they don't get a happy ending in this one either. doomed by the narrative, as it were.

which is to say: i knew i was going to like it, but, man. i cried.

(and to be clear, the stuff with the two women in the present was great too. there are even parallels to draw between the two sets of protagonists, because that's good writing for you.)

the even crazier thing is, i looked up this professor online after my first class with them in fall 2022, which is when i not only originally found out about this play, but also learned that marian call had written music for it. marian call being an indie musician i learned about back in 2020, whose ep Swears! specifically hit hard for me back during my Fail Semester (don't ask).

what a fucking coincidence, right?

anyway, i listened to the song on her bandcamp that she wrote for the show after finishing the script, and let me tell you: that song already slapped (i've listened to it plenty since first finding it), but with the full context? fuck me.

the worst part of all this is that there is literally no one else i can talk about this play with. other than my professor, whom i shall be emailing shortly with my brain worms thoughts.

...though i suppose i've said enough in this post that other people could probably do some digging and at least find the song, if they wanted to.

...and i suppose if any mutuals (or fellow r&g heads whom i've previously interacted with) wanted to read it and asked me for it... as long as the file wouldn't be too big for discord... what would be the harm in that?