#I am so irrationally angry right now

[thefabulousfab-3]

I have never really understood road rage until today.

[stellacadente]

my father's so scary when he's angry well at least it reminded me why i should absolutely most definitely be glad i moved out

[creature-once-removed]

.

[starmocha]

You were being irrational. You knew you were being irrational. You didn’t care.

As you were stomping away in your heels, Sylus easily followed after you, his long legs kept the distance closed no matter how fast you struggled to walk away from him.

You heard him chuckling at you from behind. You huffed, annoyed and embarrassed, and walked faster. Sylus continued at his leisure pace, effortlessly keeping a close distance to you. You glowered some more when he started humming a carefree tune.

After a few more minutes of this futile and silly attempt to escape him, you eventually gave up and just stood in your spot, arms crossed, glaring at nothing in particular and pretending he was not behind you even though his imposing height and presence was nigh impossible to ignore.

“Sweetie, stop pouting,” Sylus said, walking around to face you. He leaned down to your height with a smile, amused that you still refused to look him in the eyes after his earlier casual confession when he yanked your second glass of wine away inside the banquet hall. His eyes drifted to the dark night sky above you, laughing softly, “There's literally a sky of shooting stars right now.”

“I can't believe you said you would feed me to Mephisto.”

“You were drunk.”

“How dare you.”

“You called me Mr. Big Ca-Cawk.”

“Sylus, look, there's a sky of shooting stars right now,” you said, feigning astonishment and looking away from him.

Sylus rubbed his forehead and muttered to himself, half-exasperated and half-amused, “This girl...”

“Aren't you going to make a wish?” You asked sweetly, hoping he would forget your earlier sour attitude. You batted your eyelashes prettily at him, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster to distract him from the fact that earlier you had allowed yourself to be irrationally upset by a hypothetical drunken question you quite frankly didn’t even remember asking.

He laughed low. He could see through your feeble charade clearly, but he humored you, giving you a devilish smirk. Sylus reached out to pull you by your waist, bringing you closer to him. His sudden action made your heart skipped a beat, and a startled gasp left your lips in spite of yourself. At this point, you couldn’t even remember why you allowed yourself to be annoyed by him, or perhaps, you were never actually angry at him. You were just embarrassed by your own previous drunken behavior. It was silly, you knew it, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

You truly felt childish, but Sylus didn’t seem to see it that way, or if he did, he didn’t care at all. His long finger glided down your pinked cheeks, reaching your chin and lightly tipping it up so you could meet his calm gaze.

The night air was cool, but it did nothing to alleviate the rising heat between the two of you. You were acutely aware of his body heat, feeling a warmth in your cheeks as well. You didn’t know if you were blushing because of your embarrassing attitude tonight, or just maybe, you believed, it was because of the man in front of you, looking at you with absolute adoration in his eyes, still able to find you endearing even when you behaved horribly.

The longer he gazed at you, the faster your heart beat.

He smirked. You lowered your sight.

Sylus leaned down, dropping a chaste kiss on your forehead and luring out your first smile of the night. His voice was soft, his words sincere: "Sweetheart, all of my wishes have already come true."

— even if the stars fall down, aka the follow-up to would you still love me if i was a worm? (and other thought-provoking questions) that no one asked for lmao but I am incapable of just having simple fun in Glint Photobooth. I need backstories.

[persefolli]

𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐢

𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐚

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @seashelldom,@neteyamforlife, @shadowmoonlight0604, @arminsgfloll,@avatar4life,@jackiehollander,@theblukit2,@ demonic-black-queen, @dazecrea,@briasasinthewind,@toxicberrie,@zoetrope1997,@go-river-flows, @babyymeme,@ssc7514,@ducks118,@ok-boke,@pfifihannu,@myh3artttt,@graysonmalik2550,@vermillionzombie,@elegantzippercashshoe,@perseny,@papichulo120627,@ruyry,@jxrdxnh,@reallysparklychaos,@navs-bhat,@zoexme, @laylasbunbunny, @urlocalbum12-blog,@defiance749,@cheyehc,@ramdomhoe, @nilrilie,@misscaller06,@oh-no-tia,@rgbsona,@midnightliacr, @cupidddd-d, @strnger ,@depressedriches,@ellabellabus07,@lemonmoonmochi, @newjeansbonnie, @silententhusiastdreamer,@im-in-a-pansexual-panik,@ipang,@libdarkheart, @janelongxox, @stevebuckysdoll

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

“Let me speak with Jake.” You said as soon as the guards came for your daily ration of food. The clan members had separated and locked you up away from Tonowari. 

“No can do.”

“Do you want to make an enemy out of me?”

“You were made an enemy as soon as you stepped foot on forest grounds.” He threw some utensils at your feet and walked off.

You hissed and turned around.

“Mawey Y/n.” You heard Tonowari say in the distance. He was locked up as well, separated from you.

“I'm not going to-!” You began to shout but took in a deep breath.  “This is not right!”

“I am just as confused and angry as you are.”

You huffed and took a seat on the cold cavern ground. Tonowari being grounded in this situation made you see that you were indeed acting irrationally. When your trial occurs you would stand before Jake, and explain to him that it was all a misunderstanding. Honestly, if he didn’t leave you wouldn’t be in this situation.

While you and Tonowari were rotting away in a cell, Jake was strolling around the village, helping some na’vi that needed to be aided. Neytiri had instructed all guards and council members to not notify Jake about the arrest, but Jake already had a gut feeling that something was wrong. 

Why?

The villagers were acting quite strange. As soon as he helped one member of the clan, another issue would arise. This wasn’t him complaining, since he was the Olo’eyktan, but why today of all days. 

“Olo’ekytan!” A young soldier walked up to him. “They have been fed for the day.”

“Who’s been fed for the day.”

The young warrior's face dropped. “Uh..the direhorses.” 

Jake stared at the warriors as he chuckled nervously and scurried away. Jake stood still for a few moments, determining if that interaction should confirm his suspicions that everyone was acting strange. 

He knew he couldn’t ask Neytiri, he didn’t trust her. That meant he would have to figure this out on his own. 

---

On another part of the mountains, Neytriri stood pacing in an area as a clan leader watched. She had both you and Tonowari in her custody, yet she was anxious. She didn’t think this out thoroughly enough. 

Ignoring the invitation to the clan meeting just wasn’t enough to keep you two, and it certainly wouldn’t be smart to kill you. 

She didn’t want to hurt you guys, she just wanted Jake to forget. He stayed on Pandora because of her, so how come you and Tonowari got the happy ending with him?

“I can’t let them go, that would just start an even bigger war.”

“We were supposed to put them on trial, Neytiri.”

“Jake is supposed to be present for stuff like that!” She seethes. “He can’t even know they’re here.”

The clan leader sighed, clearly beginning to get irritated with Neytiri's back and forth with the whole situation. She was so determined to bring the two of you down, now that it happened, she was having second thoughts. 

“I have an idea….but this may not go the way you think.” The clan leader spoke up,

Neytiri looked at him, before nodding. 

---

You were woken up at night. Waking to see navi warriors holding torches and inching closer, one of them holding wrist ties.

You allowed them to tie your wrists tightly, and yank you into the open cavern. You saw Tonowari already standing there, looking ashamed once making eye contact with you. It wasn’t often you saw him vulnerable like this, and you knew he felt defeated for not being able to protect you. You mouthed the words ‘I love you’ before being shoved forward and guided by some na’vi warriors. 

They escorted you two down the mountains, touching down in the forest before stopping at an opening. 

Neytiri emerged, wearing her war paint. She had her bow slung across her body and the basket of arrows on her shoulder.

“Neytiri-” You began, but she hissed, intending to shut you up, but you did the opposite. 

“I beg of you. I don’t know what I have done to offend you, but I ask of you to release Tonowari. The Metkayina need him.”

“No-” Tonowari stepped forward, causing the na’vi to hoot and stop him by crossing two spears to block his path. 

“Tonowari I need you to stop being noble for once and let me handle this!” You snapped. You didn’t mean to be so harsh about it, but this was a stressful situation for the both of you, and for once you wanted Tonowari to be selfish and put himself first.

“Please. Tsahik to Tsahik. Let him go.” You watched as Neytiri’s face contorted. Uh Oh. You had forgotten that her mother was still alive, so she was not yet Tsahik. It was an insult.

“We’re taking both of you. No loose ends.” Is all she said.

Your heart dropped. They weren’t gonna let either one of you go, and it would only be a matter of time before the situation escalates and a possible war outbreak.

They nudged you forward, prompting you to walk a few feet behind your husband. They had the two of you walking for what seemed like hours, and the terrain became less and less recognizable the further you got. 

The trees became less voluptuous and the ground looked dryer. The grass began to disappear and loud booms echoed from in front of you. After a few more steps, everyone halted. You leaned to the side, looking past Tonowari and gasping at the sight.

Sky People.

Large and heavy machinery rolled around as it seemed like they were building something. Everything was metal, and dirty.

Neytiri took a large breath, and looked towards the clan leader she had discussed earlier.

“There’s no turning back.” He said.

Neytiri nodded and marched forward, you, Tonowari, and the rest of the warriors in tow.

It seemed that the Sky People were fascinated at the entrance, stopping what they were doing to watch the parade of na’vi. You all headed to the large building that rested in front of you. It made you anxious, shivers running through your veins. You wanted Tonowari, you needed him, to be in his arms, but unfortunately he was as stuck as you.

At the entrance, a woman in military gear and a mask stood next to a tall na’vi man in military gear. 

You watched your husband tense in front of you.

“Well if it isn’t the man who speared half my crew.” The na’vi said with a toothy grin.

“I’ll do it ten times over if I have to.” Tonowari said darkly.

“Save it ... .I see you brought your wife.” He said smiling, a country accent seeping through. He walked past Tonowari and leaned down to face you.

“Nice to meet ya, i’m an old friend of your buddy here.” He nodded towards Neytiri.

“She is no buddy of mine.”

“Oh!” He said surprised. “Well I'm sure me and you will get quite acquainted, we have some history between me and your dear husband.”

“And who do you think you are?!”

“Miles. Miles Quaritch.”

 ----

Jake sat in his home alone, holding a pen and some paper. He was writing again, to you, and Tonowari. It would upset Neytiri, but he missed the both of you dearly.

He’s felt a weight on his shoulders the past few days. Neytiri was vague with him, and the visiting clan leaders seemed tight-lipped.

It was only safe to assume she was having an affair,

Jake wiggled his hand, looking down at the pathetic excuse of an apology that was written in front of him. He was determined to finish this letter tonight, and he was going to send it to you. He didn’t need a response from you, but if he knew you got it, he would be content for the time being.

As he sat, he became uncomfortable with the silence. There were far too many things that were nagging at him. He decided to get up and nip that eerie feeling in his stomach, exiting his home.

First he had to find that young warrior, the one who looked especially nervous to talk to him a few days ago.

It didn’t take long to find the young warrior, seeing him standing on the outskirts of the village, attentive, seemingly on the lookout. His eyes widened seeing Jake approach, gulping and avoiding eye contact. 

“Show me those direhorses you fed.”

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐏𝐭. 𝟒 (𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭) 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

[officialleehadan]

At about six months pregnant myself right now, I can’t help but think of that scene in Star Wars when Padmé shows up on Mustafar after Anakin swan-dives off the cliff of crazy and like.

There would not be tears. There would not be asking nicely or sobbing about a broken heart. Padme would waddle her nine-months-pregnant-WITH-TWINS self off that ship, grab her idiot Sith husband by the hair, and drag him into the ship, all without saying a single word that wasn’t profanity.

That woman negotiates with a blaster when she’s NOT pregnant. You think she magically got more chill once she was full of babies, couldn’t breathe, was leaking fluids from every orifice including several that didn’t formerly leak, felt like she was about the size of a gas giant, and had just discovered her husband apparently WENT CRAZY AND MURDERED CHILDREN??

I am here to tell you that I can accept aliens, and space wizards, and whatever the hell is going on with Palpatine.

But a pregnant woman tearfully hoping to talk reason into her batshit crazy space wizard husband?

No.

She would make extremely hostile eye contact, say his name through gritted teeth, and point at the ship meaningfully. Anakin, realizing that there is no hell like a very angry, very pregnant woman with a blaster, would mumble apologies, and slink onto the ship, with Padme waddling furiously behind him.

I’m having a peaceful, easy pregnancy. My husband has been adoringly getting me absolutely anything I want and is complaining frequently that I’m not asking for things enough. Even so, I have just about zero chill right now. I get irrationally outraged because the trash bags aren’t put in the bin just right. I can’t imagine the level of GET YOUR SORRY SITH ASS ON THE SHIP that I would be feeling in Padme’s shoes.

[inoreuct]

What if, in some circumstances which I cannot even think of, Sanji cannot cook himself and has to tell Zoro what to do.

And Zoro's sword skills are NOT equal to his knife skills 😭

Sanji also would use fancy chef vocabulary to give commands like "now sauté those onions until they're godlen-brown" or something and Zoro's like da fuck's a co-lander. why would you need like 5 different pans.

BADABING BADABOOM HERE YOU GO REG MY DEAR technically pre-rs but they act like they’ve been married decades. ANYWAYS enjoy 🤭🤭

Zoro swore as the knife slipped again, skidding flat against the chopping board with a dull scrape that made him wince. 

In hindsight, this was all the stupid cook’s fault. Bastard just had to go and break his arm; Sanji had tried to do things one-handed for a while before he’d evidently gotten fed up and stuck his head out the galley door to scream for Zoro to help with lunch at top volume, apparently under the assumption that since Zoro was a master swordsman he’d be able to handle knives.

And by all rights, he should. He was the demon pirate hunter. He carried his best friend’s dream like a talisman in his pocket. He wasn’t going to let himself be bested by a fucking vegetables and a knife.

But Zoro was quite certain that barring his sense of direction, he had never been quite this bad at anything in his entire existence. 

The garlic had been miniscule, the celery had been too fucking slippery, the onions had made his eyes burn, and now this stupid carrot kept trying to run away from him. He could handle rough chops, sure; but when Sanji was being all picky about— 

“I said medium dice, marimo, not mutilate.”

“I don’t know what that fucking means, shithead,” Zoro gritted, not even bothering to turn around where Sanji was sitting at the dining table. He re-aligned the knife and felt inexplicably betrayed when it slipped again, slicing diagonally into the carrot. It was a miracle he hadn’t taken off a finger yet. 

He felt stupid. Awkward and useless and out of his element, it was just cooking, for fuck’s sake—

“Marimo.” 

“What,” he snapped, fingers tightening around a wooden handle. Sanji’s tone had gone soft around the edges and it rankled him, made him feel irrationally angry like a tiger pacing around in its cage, trapped and seething—

“This one’s on me,” Sanji murmured, coming around to hover by his side, something Zoro couldn’t identify in the set of his face. “Shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be good with knives just because you’re good with swords.”

The words sent a wave of panic through Zoro, stomach dropping fast enough that he ran his mouth. A need to please he hadn’t felt since he was a child. Desperation not to disappoint. “Shut the fuck up, I am, I just—” He snapped his jaw shut, pressing his teeth together hard. “Just… Give me a minute to figure it out.”

“You’re already doing better than I was, when I started,” Sanji said lightly, hair falling across his face as he tipped his head. 

“You were a child,” he ground out. The knife clattered as he put it down to shake out his hands. “S’not saying much.” 

The cook hummed, strangely gentle. “Still. It’s alright—”

“I don’t want your pity.”

And, oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Pity. Zoro felt like a dumb kid again, and it was so much worse because it was Sanji. And he didn’t want to think about the implications of that, so he sneered, “Don’t look down on me, shitty cook. You and your fancy-ass cooking terms and your hundred and one pans and—”

Sanji cut him off with a bark of a laugh, tossing his head back. His left arm was immobilised in a sling, tucked close to his body as he moved behind Zoro and reached around him to pick the knife up again. “Your brains must really be full of moss if you think I’m looking down on you. Come on.” He offered Zoro the handle, and the swordsman didn’t need to look to know that Sanji was smiling over his shoulder. “One last try.”

He worked his jaw for a second, and huffed through his nose. “I fucking swear, curly, if I get cut—”

“You won’t,” Sanji replied, resolute as he watched Zoro take the knife. 

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re not stupid and I’m not careless, especially not with you.” 

The last part had been a little quieter, riding on a rushed breath, and Zoro eyed the cook pensively as slender fingers wrapped around his hand.

“Here. Like this.” 

With Sanji’s help, he cut the carrot into lengthwise sticks and then neat cubes, chopping up a few more before dumping the whole lot into a bowl with most of what he’d already cut. Sanji shifted away, poking a chopstick into the oil he’d left to heat.

“See the bubbles?” he murmured, peering down into the pot. “That’s how you check if it’s hot enough.” He twisted one of the knobs down before grabbing the vegetables and dumping them in, shifting the pieces around with a wooden spatula as they sizzled gently. “This is a mirepoix,” he said, pronouncing it meer-pwah. “It forms the flavour base of a lot of dishes. The aim is to use low heat, cook it down really slow— so that it doesn’t burn and you bring out the sweetness.” 

He was speaking softly enough that it could have been to himself, but the commentary was obviously for Zoro’s benefit, and Zoro. Did not like how that was making him feel at all. 

They were quiet for a while as Sanji did his thing, and the swordsman crossed his arms as he leaned his hip against the counter. The sun filtering in through the window was lighting Sanji’s hair up gold, washing his features in a subtle glow that emphasised the softness of his expression, relaxed and so entirely in his element that it made Zoro’s chest ache. Made something press up beneath his lungs, made it hard to breathe, and it ached.

Impervious to his inner turmoil, Sanji continued, stirring frequently as the galley started to smell really good. “When the onion turns translucent, that’s the sweet spot—” The chopped (more mushed, if Zoro was inclined to be honest) garlic from earlier went in with a vicious sizzle, then a few dashes of different sauces and a good pour of chicken stock. “Could you get the black pepper?” 

Zoro grunted, grabbing the grinder from the corner and putting a few good cracks into the pot as Sanji added salt, stirred one last time, and propped the lid on partway. “That’s it?” 

“That’s it,” Sanji confirmed, smirking, but not unkindly. “Once that simmers down it’ll be our soup, and I’ll just have to cook some noodles. I was planning for mussels in a garlic butter white wine reduction and seared scallops with this delicious spiced pomegranate and herb glaze, but— I think that might have killed you.” Something must have shown on Zoro’s face, because the cook laughed, bright and easy. “You did good, marimo, all things considered. I’d probably be horrid at sword fighting. We’re even.”

Zoro scowled, fighting back against the spark that flared in the depths of his chest at that thought. Sparring with Sanji, in his element, giving the cook shit for it but also helping. Teaching. “Hurry up and get better, and we’ll see.” 

Sanji groaned, rolling his eyes even as he chuckled. “You’re gonna kick my ass, aren’t you.”

Maybe. But even more than that… He thought about how Sanji had held his hand over the knife, patient but not condescending even though he could have been, the skin of his wrist cool against Zoro’s forearm. The look on his he face as he did what he loved and the way it had made something warm bloom behind Zoro’s sternum. The swordsman let his teeth peek in a lazy grin as his chin tipped up; an entire challenge. Half of the bite. “We’ll see.”

fin.

[cerise-on-top]

Singing Price a Lullaby

Reusing one of my favorite ideas! I actually put in the names of all the characters I write for into a random picker and I got Price! Lovely, he's earned it!

Looking up from your phone, you gazed through the window, looking at the few stars and clouds that were visible. The sun had kissed the planet goodnight a while ago. And yet, here you were, all alone still, lying in your bed as you awaited your lover to finally finish his work for the day. A torturous time, really. Although he may have been so near, you dared not disturb him in what he deemed so important. And thus you were left to your own devices for hours now, asking him whether or not he had desired some food from time to time. Truthfully, an empty stomach was the only thing to make John abandon his oh so important work. And even then, conversation was sparse, he merely thought about work, not paying you much mind. While there may be the occasional answer were you to ask a question, it was short. He may have been the captain of a prestigious force, but that didn’t mean he should neglect you like that. Even you, with your understanding nature, had your limits. But it wasn’t John unintentionally ignoring you for the majority of the day that got to you, no. What really irked you was how few breaks he took. Yes, what he had to do was indeed of utmost importance, but you’d rather have him take care of himself either way. You brought him tea and water, incentives to get away from his paperwork for a few minutes at a time.

Looking at your phone yet again, the clock read 21:23. Had it been up to you, you would have dragged John from his desk and into bed. While you may not have been as strong as he was physically, you would hold him down until sleep would take him. If you needed to, you would learn to tie knots as well, anything to get your boyfriend to rest. With a sigh, you turned off your phone, deciding that you, and him, had had enough for the night. Your bed may have been a bastion of comfort, but it was incomplete without him. And thus, yet again, you sought him out in the one place he could almost always be found.

You knocked on the door to his office and, to no surprise, John invited you in, not bothering to open the door himself, however.

“Evening, love. Can I help you?” It was late, he had been working since the morning. Evidently, he was tired, his speech a bit slower than usual. John even had the gall to stifle a yawn around you. Had you been stronger, you would have picked him up, thrown him over your shoulder and carried him to your shared bed. But alas he was too heavy. The sentiment was still very much there, though.

“John, don’t you think it’s time to head to bed? It’s half past nine pm already, you’ve been at this since ten am.”

Turning back to his paperwork, he tapped the pen against his papers. “Just a little bit longer, then I’ll stop for the time being.”

Those few sentences made you irrationally angry. ‘Just a little longer’, that usually meant he’d be at this for another three hours or so, which was unacceptable. You took a deep breath and gently closed the door behind you. However, you could not pretend to be calm any longer as you stomped over to John, taking his papers from him and scanning them over. “Spelling error. Spelling error. Did you doze off as you wrote this? Wrong use of ‘than’. Spelling error.” You put the papers down with force, it was a surprise none of them had flown off the desk. “John, you’re dead tired and mentally exhausted. I think it’s time you call it quits for the night.”

Putting his pen down, he sighed. “Love, it’s alright. This is important and the deadline is coming up soon enough. I can go to bed later. I’m not tired just yet either.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you a bit closer and resting his head against you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll join you soon enough, don’t worry.”

“Stop shitting me. You’re leaving this room right now.” Grabbing his arm, you pulled him up. You had expected otherwise, but he put up no fight as you dragged him off the chair. It seemed as though not even he wanted to really work anymore this late. No one was going to burn him at the stakes for heading to bed for the night. Or stopping for any other reason. “And if you’re not tired, fine. We’ll do something else until you are tired.” What a liar. You were sure if you forced him to bed and wrapped a blanket around him he’d be gone in roughly ten minutes. Maybe even less. His eyes were only half open, and he was, yet again, stifling a yawn. “Come on, we’re heading to the living room. I have an idea for what we can do.”

For a moment he hesitated, refusing to go along with you as you were halfway through the door. John looked back at the documents on his desk, barely moving as you tried to drag him through the door. His gaze seemed almost empty as he stared off into space. He was half asleep, even while standing there. Eventually, he relented, turning off the lights and following you into the living room.

Holding onto his wrist still, you sat down on the couch, patting your lap as John simply stared at you. Raising his eyebrow, it was clear what he wanted to convey. ‘I’m too heavy for you, I won’t be sitting in your lap.’ But that wasn’t your intention either.

“Lie down, put your head on my lap.” Although he may have been a captain, he obeyed your command, no complaints from his side either. It was adorable how he looked up at you, barely conscious. You were certain he’d fall asleep eventually. However, maybe, just maybe, you could convince him to go to bed without him actually falling asleep in your lap. You wanted to sleep in your bed as well, after all. All of this could have been avoided if only he would take better care of himself. You’re going to scold him for that, but it could wait until tomorrow. For the time being you ran your fingers through his hair.

“What are we going to do now? Watch the telly?”

“Quiet, my dear. I’m thinking.” What you were about to do was kind of embarrassing. You were only really used to singing to yourself when no one was around. But you always found your voice to be quite soothing. In fact, you could sing yourself sleepy with certain songs as well. It was a blessing and a curse. You hoped you wouldn’t start yawning throughout it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as unlikely as one would think. Still, you’d give it your all. But what to sing? You wanted to go for something a bit nicer.

Eventually, you settled for a song, looking away from John for a bit before starting to play with his hair again. He never looked away from you, taking in all of your features, regardless of how many times he had seen them.

Your voice wasn’t overly loud, it wasn’t overly high pitched either as you sang. Still, you felt a bit embarrassed, avoiding John’s gaze. It seemed almost humiliating to you, singing in front of someone else after years of not doing so. But it would take John’s mind off of things, you hoped. Your little performance was nice, you could feel yourself relaxing a bit as well.

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

Searching until my hands bleed

This flower don't belong to me

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

Searching until my hands bleed

This flower don't belong to me

This flower don't belong to me

Why can't she belong to me?

Slowly, you could feel your eyes getting a bit droopy as well, a yawn coming along with the feeling. Still, you ignored such for the sake of continuing to sing. John shifted in your lap, laying down on his side as he nuzzled into your stomach. You couldn’t tell if he was actually enjoying this, anxiety building up in your chest. However, you had already started, it would be a shame to stop now.

Every word, every thought, every sound

Every touch, every smile, every frown

All the pain we've endured until now

All the hope that I lost, you have found

He wrapped his arms around your middle and sighed contently. Maybe your anxieties were unfounded after all. It wasn’t often he’d sigh like that, only when he was really comfortable. For a moment, you dared to look at him. His eyes were closed and he seemed happy.

Every word, every thought, every sound

Surrender

Every touch, every smile, every frown

Surrender

All the pain we've endured until now

Surrender

All the hope that I lost, you have found

His breathing was shallow and calm. Has he fallen asleep already? You would have preferred it if he had fallen asleep in your shared bed, but you supposed this was better than nothing. You could always just take a nap tomorrow.

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Your little performance was over now. You had found yourself to be quite tired yourself, but dared not to move in fear of waking John. Yet, eventually, he stirred awake, in spite of you not moving a muscle. His slumber didn’t last very long, if he had even slept in the first place.

“Beautiful, love. How come you never told me you could sing like that?”

“Well, it is a bit embarrassing. Even though I really do love singing. Anyway, go to bed, you stinker. It’s late and you’re tired.”

John sighed, but got up reluctantly. Having pulled you up with him, he linked his arm with yours. You were ready to hold him given how he swayed from left to right as he walked. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You should sing more often. I’d love to hear you sing again sometime.”

“W-well, I’m sure that could be arranged… We’ll discuss that tomorrow. For now we’re heading to bed.”

“Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else at this hour.” What a jester. Had you not intervened then he’d still be working away at some boring papers. But you were proud of him for complying. He needed that rest, after all.

You weren’t sure how long it took for him to actually fall asleep, but you could have sworn you heard light snoring the moment he hit the bed. In fact, he wasn’t even moving anymore, it was you, who had to drape the blanket over the both of you. But you didn’t mind. With a gentle kiss to the top of John’s head, you settled down for the night yourself, nestling into the blankets and getting comfortable. Eventually, you, too, fell asleep, tired from singing the lullaby.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying different stuff to my friend’s face and behind his back?

As you can tell, I’m pretty genuinely worried I screwed up here.

So I (17F) and my friend (17M) both auditioned for the school musical. We both have done every high school show, so we’re very immersed in the theater world. We are seniors and this was our last show. This is just some context—the point of which is that my friend and I both have tons of friends in the theater department, and that’s where a lot of our socialization happens.

My friend was the male lead in the last school musical, so it was likely he’d be the main male lead again this year. However, when I saw what musical we were doing, I actually thought he’d be better as the supporting male lead. Still an ENORMOUS role, but due to his personality, casting type, acting, and tap dancing abilities, that just seemed like the better role for him.

Meanwhile, this other senior guy who had only done one show also was auditioning. Now, he’s also very talented, so in his first show he actually got a pretty big role, but he also proved really difficult to work with during that show and also at the auditions for this new show got so upset he actually stormed out for a while.

However, his acting and singing audition were perfect for the main male lead.

If he was cast as the main male lead and my friend was cast as the supporting lead, our show would have looked SO GOOD.

But after the whole storming out fiasco, I was pretty sure that other guy wasn’t getting a big role at all. But when the cast list came out, my friend was the main lead and this guy was the supporting lead.

Now. I was super happy for my friend. But it was not a good casting choice for him, and since that other role is so big, it doesn’t really punish the other guy for walking out either. So it doesn’t save us the headache of working with the one guy AND puts my friend in a role that isn’t as perfect for him.

But my friend is BELOVED in the cast, and not just by me. He’s practically worshiped by everyone who isn’t his close friend, and his close friends love him for obvious reasons (cause we’re friends). So everyone made a huge deal about how he’s PERFECT for the role, and blah blah blah, and I kinda silently disagreed but I wanted to suppose my friend so I was like “yeah! You totally deserved it! Good for you!”

This other guy though kinda got irrationally angry that he was given the supporting lead (he’s definitely an asshole regardless of whether or not I am) and even quit the show… even though he got a big part. And then he started talking trash about my friend and saying he wasn’t talented?

But when that guy talked to me (weird decision considering everyone knows we’re really close), he said, “my acting was literally so much better for that role. I SHOULD have gotten the role.” And I said, “yeah. My friend really would have been better in the other role. I agree.”

And then he went on to say, “my acting is so much better than his anyway.” And I didn’t straight up agree, but my response was, “well, you know politics plays a huge role in these things.” Which definitely didn’t deny what he said. (And my friend actually is disproportionately benefited by director politics bc he takes private lessons from our choreographer, so I wasn’t WRONG—but I wasn’t being the good friend I should have been either.)

So I sorta feel like I told this other guy, who probably didn’t get the main lead bc of politics/being a nightmare to work with (probably both, tho the second is less likely since he got a big role anyway?) that he was right about my friend, even though my friend really is talented and I never MEANT to imply that he wasn’t. But I think I did.

I’m happy for my friend getting the lead. And I’m not sorry for thinking he would have been better cast in the other role. But…something feels icky about telling him he’s perfect for the role and then telling his rival that he would have been better for the role.

I don’t know. Let me have it if I need it, tumblr. AITA?

[night-market-if]

Helloo, while I agree with you that Milo is also a victim, I also think that the other anons are also justified in feeling that way about him. I'm really sorry if I'm wrong, but the way you reply to other people's thoughts, about things that you don't have the same opinion on, feels like you're telling them that they are wrong to feel that way.

Let's unpack this for a minute. Because I think this is a great opportunity.

I am not invalidating that anyone has an opinion. They are allowed to have an opinion. And, if they approached me like you just did, I would most likely respond to that opinion in a constructive way. But someone messaging me and just throwing out a random feeling they have that is negative, and then getting mad at me in return when I don't agree with them, is childish. I will not be apologizing for that because most of the people that are "angry" about something, come at me in a really negative context. And then when I state something differently (without attacking them even) they get irrationally upset. I mean, a prime example is me saying that Milo is also a victim. That there can be more than one victim. I then got a response saying I was the one flying off the handle. Following that was another response telling me that I am a hated author. That my game is terrible. That I am a bad person. I mean, think about that for a minute here. Does the response corelate with what I said? Does it warrant that? No.

People are always valid to have an opinion, but there are two things to say about it. Most of the time, the people coming at me, are internet trolls. Not actual readers. And I'm sorry, we were indoctrinated at a young age to "ignore the bullies" and I just don't think that is the right response. Because now we have a generation that ignored the bullies and they got way worse because no one had a social contract to call them out.

Two, the ones that are not trolls, are lacking a lot of media literacy. That is actually an extreme problem within our society. And, since I am the author, it is my job to offer what I was trying to say within my story. That may not align with someone's opinion. But me having my own opinion, does not warrant someone getting mad at me. I didn't get mad at them so why am I suddenly greeted with toxicity.

I get where you are coming from saying that people are allowed to have their own opinion. And I have stated over and over again that everyone is valid for it. I'm not even saying for someone to change their mind or go away. But, someone else's opinion does not invalidate my own. Just as my own does not invalidate theirs. And if someone feels like it does, and this is going to sound cruel, but it is not my responsibility to regulate that for them. That most likely stems from a personal standpoint. I am not responsible for someone being offended by what I have to say about my own story and my own fictional characters. You don't see me coming on here and crying out that someone on anon made me "feel bad". That's not a thing.

There is a difference between just saying something out loud and engaging in a conversation. Constructive criticism is where you offer a opinion, give why you are offering it, and then explain how it does or does not work for the narrative. Then, I can come back, ask questions, respond with what maybe I was intending, and figure out a better way to get what I was intending across.

Non constructive criticism is just coming to me as an anon, and saying they are angry and want to hurt someone. Or that they don't like something of my story without giving why.

To further some points. Milo is a triggering character. I knew this from the beginning. The things that he did is not for the faint of heart and speaks to betrayal. And a lot of people who have been in a situation where they feel betrayed, are going to respond negatively to that. But, that is on them. That is for them to work through and own. It is not the responsibility of my story to change because of that. And coming on to say that you hate a character and want to harm them. Or coming on to say that I'm a bad writer. Or even coming on to say that I'm hated on reddit (to which I say, isn't everyone?) is providing nothing to this community, world, or our author reader relationship. It is done solely with the intent to try and hurt someone because the reader themselves was hurt.

To end this, I am going to make this statement. Telling me it "feels" like I am telling someone they are wrong is based in a personal feeling towards a situation. It is not based in facts. It is not based in anything that I have said. And while everyone has a right to their opinion, just because I am an author and a content creator, does not mean I don't get to defend my story or my characters. If I was being racists, sexist, transphobic? All things to come at someone for. But because I wrote something that makes people angry and they don't want to continue going on a journey with the characters and would rather just block their minds to character growth? I can't do anything about that. If there is no conversation they want to engage in, if they simply want to come on and troll me, then they need to not be surprised when I treat them the same way they are treating me.

I hope this makes more sense and provides some understanding.

Zinnia

[dumb-duxky]

Anger

Here is raph, not really what I envisioned when I started drawing but I like how it came out anyways ^^

Haven't really been drawing him bc I didn't really know how without doing him dirty...I'm not a fan of what I did for raphs day during tmaynt 🪦

Tried a new way to color, or new brushes to use, and I kinda like how it turned out 😋

[rant about anger under the cut lmao] [beware its a whole lot of (personal) yapping 😖/let me know if i should delete the yapping here]

__

I really like the kind of red waterpaint on raph, I feel like it really kind of adds onto how I personally feel when I get angry. It's just a feeling that creeps up on you. Sometimes it's sudden, other times it kind of builds up. But the feeling of anger makes you feel dirty and guilty in the end anyways, so it always is the same, yet so easy to fall back to.

Anger is actually a huge problem for me, and I usually explode on my siblings. It's not fair for me or them, and it always makes me feel terrible and dirty after. It's most likely a passed down thing, since my mom was always like that, then me, and now it's appearing in my younger brother. The only difference is that mine is very common and even they seem weary to not trigger me at times, which is such a huge L for me honestly ☠️

What I'm trying to say is that I really do understand Raph when he just gets angry for everything, its very relatable. Mostly 2012 raph. I relate to that Mikey too, honestly just the both of them. The anger is just so simple and complex, yet very annoying 💀

I do want to say that it's not as bad as before, as I used to get a little violent, and say more hurtful things, but now while i still get anger, I'm very careful not to seriously hurt anyone, mentally. I would never forgive myself if I got physical again. Unlike before, I am now an older teen, and I refuse to have my anger control me and have more permanent consequences. Also it kills me with guilt.

But now I've learned how to be a silly lil fellow, and that helps a lot more than what you would think ☠️

I will say that these days i have a very righteous anger, where I want everything to be orderly and fair. I get angry when my siblings act irrationally or get hurt, I do get protective, and it makes me feel like a dog 💀 I have been able to sniff out bad people long before they are revealed to be bad, such is the case in some of my sister friends (I'm right 100% of the time ☠️)

OK I'm going to shut up now I'm actually making myself angry for yapping tf ⚰️

(Might delete this rant here later tbh)

[princehatterene]

yay my post got one like!!! time to ramble on about the one type of loud noise i actually like!!!

now presenting: theo rates nhl goal horns and goal songs (note: i don’t know if all of these are up to date, but i’ll do my best! ;w; also HEADPHONE USERS BEWARE)

anaheim ducks: the horn sounds really unique! really low pitched, spongebob’s alarm clock-esque. might be kinda hard to hear over the din of the crowd tho? the goal song (bro hymn by pennywise) is also iconic. i bet that sounds awesome in an arena. solid 7/10, not a whole lot else to say

arizona coyotes (rip): the horn itself is whatever but THE SONG……..MOTHERFUCKING HOWLIN’ FOR YOU BY THE BLACK KEYS??? AND THE COYOTE HOWL SOUND EFFECTS??? YOU CAN’T GET ANY BETTER THAN THAT. arizona y’all were fuckin robbed and i am so sorry for your loss. 7.5/10, the boring horn takes it down a bit sadly

boston bruins: i’m loathe to admit it cuz i have a vendetta against the bruins, but this entire combination goes stupid hard. yeah the song is overused in sports arenas but….man it just hits, i dunno what else to say. horn sounds really punchy and is super unique to boston. i’m gonna be a lil mean and give it an 8.5/10 instead of a 9. Fuck You Boston /j

buffalo sabres: this horn blows my tits clean off and Not in a good way. sounds pretty similar to nashville’s which we will get to in a bit. also i think they have individual goal songs for each player and honestly i think that’s a little lame. i like when a team is known for that one song ig, even if they change it frequently. 6/10

calgary flames: this combo also goes hard. i LOOOOOVE when goal horns have an actual harmony to them and aren’t just one solid mass of noise? don’t get me wrong the solid masses of noise also hit sometimes, but this sounds so so good. also a badass goal song. dyno-mite. 8/10

carolina hurricanes: it sure sounds like it’s being played thru a hurricane, that gets it at least a couple points for unintentional thematic harmony. song sounds cool, i like that it’s related to the state the team is located in. other than that the combo is alright i guess. 7/10

chicago blackhawks: the og goal horn! i gotta give it some flowers for that alone. also arguably The most iconic goal song. chelsea dagger you will always be famous. if only the team was actually good and we got to hear it more. 8.5/10

colorado avalanche: now THIS sounds like spongebob’s alarm clock. i was gonna give it flak for sounding too much like the golden knights but eh, i guess it’s different enough (theirs is eeeeever so slightly higher pitched—they are the same model horn tho). and the song is whatever i don’t care this team makes me irrationally angry. stop being good. cale makar and nathan mackinnon blend together in my head they are the same person you can’t change my mind. grr >:( 7/10

columbus blue jackets: first, some history: the team is based off of the blue uniforms the union soldiers wore in the civil war (ohio provided a lot of troops and supplies to the union), and their arena has a replica 1800s napoleon cannon that shoots a pyrotechnic round every time they score a goal or win a game. i'm not even a fan of the team and i pop off EVERY TIME that cannon goes off and for those about to rock starts playing. uhhh the goal horn itself is ok. 9/10

dallas stars: DALLAS. STARS. DALLAS. STARS. DALLAS. STARS. DALLAS. STARS. 8.5/10

detroit red wings: WE FINALLY HAVE A REAL GOAL HORN IN LITTLE CAESARS ARENA!!! the second link is the horrible recording we used to have from the old horn in joe louis arena. while i miss the old horn a lot, this new one is growing on me. also none of the links showcase it but our current goal song is that one part in without me by eminem where he goes "la la la la la", you know the one. i wouldn't call myself a huge eminem fan but i think it goes hard and i'm not sorry one bit. 10/10, totally not biased at all <3

edmonton oilers:

“bully horn” is right, that noise just stole my lunch money and shoved me in a locker.

...............it's been growing on me. 2/10 but in like? a good way? it's supposed to be intimidating, i get that, but also Ow My Fucking Ears

florida panthers: they LOVE that growl sound effect lmao. also this is the same model as detroit's new horn! sounds a tad bit different tho. they're another team that does individual goal songs now, but they used to have sweetness by jimmy eat world. huge L getting rid of that if you ask me. 6.5/10

los angeles kings: eh, it's ok. horn sounds pretty cool, but the song doesn't stand out. 5/10, maybe even a 4. i have no strong feelings whatsoever

minnesota wild: GODDDDD I LOVE THIS SONGGGGGG. people in the comments of the second link like "waahh crowd chant was better", don't you EVER disrespect the isley brothers in my presence. the horn sounds sick they have a working lighthouse that shoots fog in their arena they have an awesome logo they have marc-andre fleury i love you minnesota wild i love you so very much. 8.5/10

montreal canadiens: ough.....c'est magnifique. c'est super. i heard they changed the horn a little bit, adding a lower-pitched bell into the mix. here's what that sounds like. i really like the habs package overall! a classic sound for a classic team. a solid 8/10

nashville predators: oh this horn is CRUNCHY. i can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. i bet it sounds really cool irl. the goal songs are pretty great, as are the "HEY! YOU SUCK!" chants from the crowd. i have no strong feelings toward the team, but their goal combo is solid. 7/10

new jersey devils: OMG THEY HAVE A "YOU SUCK" CHANT TOO LMAO THAT'S GREAT. i've never payed too much attention to this team or their horn, and it's not bad! i like the siren that's in there. and their goal song too, wish i knew what it was. 7/10

new york islanders: ah yes, the iconic "YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!" chants. i know it originally comes from a wwe wrestler, but i could not tell you who that is lol. wrestling mutuals come thru... i also love how they have like three different songs/celebrations in here lol. the horn itself is ok. 7/10

new york rangers: haha the rangers don't have a real goal horn, everyone point and laugh!!! 🤣 i do like that it's a fire engine horn tho, that's admittedly really awesome. we love firefighters in this house. and for a recording it sounds pretty good. the song isn't too terribly interesting to me, but it's so quintessentially The New York Rangers that i can't be too mad at it. mmmmmm 6.5/10

ottawa senators: oooh i didn't notice how similar it was to montreal's! looks like it is the same manufacturer. interesting! <- fucking nerdass /lh

the song is fiiiiine. a little cliche. nice crowd participation in there tho. 6/10, i always forget this team exists LOL

philidelphia flyers: OOOOH THEIR HORN IS NICE AND CRUNCHY TOO... they also incorporate some wrestling into their celebrations! i don't know who becky lynch is but their theme is pretty cool! makes for a hype hockey goal song. 8/10

pittsburgh penguins: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO THIS GOAL HORN NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE HARMONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT SOUNDS SO TRIUMPHANT???? I POP OFF EVERY FUCKING TIME BRO HOW DOES IT SOUND THIS GOOD??????????????? the song is ok too, not my favorite but it'll do. 15/10, tickles my brain Just Right

san jose sharks: another good spongebob-esque HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK. also their goal song fucking RULES. big big fan of this one. 9/10

seattle kraken: girl if you don't release that motherfucking kraken i swear to god--

awesome sounding foghorn, absolutely based song choice, that's a solid 9/10

st. louis blues: nice sounding horn! i love the lower pitch that gets added in with the second little burst. but what really gets me is the organ playing when the saints go marching in....ough it makes me smile every time i hear it. the song after it is pretty hype too! just good vibes all around in st. louis. 8.5/10

tampa bay lightning: i meannnnnnn it's whatever. uninspired. their pregame show has this huge tesla coil and they play thunderstruck by ac/dc and that would be SUUUCH a better goal song than whatever bland stadium anthem this is. it'll be a no from me. 4/10

toronto maple leafs: i don't care what anyone says, as a stealth leafs fan, this goal song is not bad. it's unconventional for sure, but it grew on me after a while. the horn is just ok, sounds just like everyone else's. all these horns start to blend together after a while, yknow? but we're almost done! 6/10, maaaaybe 6.5. we could do better.

vancouver canucks: ooooh i like their songs a lot! don't you forget about me is also unconventional but i love that song too much to care. also unironic nickelback haters dni. sounds like they used to have holiday by green day too? based. the horn is also kinda like. harmoniously cacophonous, which i know is the oxymoron of the century, but it's not a bad thing. 8.5 or 9/10

vegas golden knights: goal song is fitting cuz panic! is from vegas, so that's pretty sick. and i guess i should say vegas is copying colorado's horn cuz colorado came first, but i don't like the avs so the knights get a pass from me. not much else to say tho. 8/10

washington capitals: THEY USED TO HAVE A COOL POLICE SIREN MIXED IN WITH THEIR HORN BUT THEY GOT RID OF IT AND IT PISSES ME OFF. 3/10, L + ratio + the siren was the best part + song isn't nearly interesting enough to be worth mentioning + crosby > ovi

winnipeg jets: and last but certainly not least, we have my second favorite horn in the league! it's a train whistle!! it's super unique and cool and i love how it sounds!! another one that just tickles my brain. i think the goal song with the added siren is super hype too. 10/10 yaaay yippee last one goes out with a bang :D

[blushingbucky]

stay, stay, stay | derek morgan

pairing: derek morgan x f!reader

word count: 0.9k

summary: above all, you want him to stay, stay, stay.

warnings: arguing, overuse of italics, slight violence, jealousy, too much dialogue (sue me)

author’s note: this is my first derek imagine, and it’s based on taylor swift’s ‘stay, stay, stay (taylor’s version)’ !! i'm still new to writing for criminal minds, so (kindly) let me know how i can improve :)

quick sidenote: i love derek and penelope, truly, but sometimes jealousy happens and it’s normal. this fic is not here to judge, nor am i criticising their friendship.

“You call her baby girl. Mama. Sugar. Insert any nickname that’s inappropriate for someone other than your girlfriend! Derek, you can’t stand there and tell me you’re not in love with her!”

“I’m not in love with Penelope, y/n! She’s my best friend, nothing more! You know that!”

“Oh, do I, chocolate thunder?”

You and Derek are on opposite sides of the room. Both of your faces are hot, your hearts pounding, voices raised to an uncommonly loud volume. And both of you are angry. Unbelievably, stupidly, some might say irrationally angry. But neither of you can stop.

Instead, you throw your phone across the room at him. Derek’s instincts intervene and he dodges the object, watches it crash into the wall behind him. He stares at you.

“y/n, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I can’t do this right now,” you reply, and stalk into the bedroom. Slam the door shut, leaving Derek alone in the living room to clean up the mess.

With the morning comes embarrassment. The curtains hadn’t been closed last night, and sunlight streams into the bedroom. It invades every corner of the room, forcing your brain to acknowledge it and your eyes to adapt. You’d rather remain asleep than awake, and you throw an arm over your face with a groan.

It does nothing to block the light, nor the memories of the night before. Your heart sinks.

Derek.

The bed is empty beside you, another reminder of your stupidity. Its sheets are uncharacteristically cold, the other pillow flat, the blankets isolated to your side of the bed. A sigh escapes your mouth as you stretch. Disentangling yourself from the sheets, you slip on your lucky socks. You’d need them for this conversation.

There’s a hush over the apartment, and you leave the bedroom door open. An invitation.

“Derek?” Your voice is soft, testing the waters. You don’t know what his reaction will be, where he slept last night. Will he still be angry? Did he sleep at Penelope’s? Did he get called in for a case and you didn’t get to say goodbye?

The last question hurts the most, but the sting is removed with a “Yeah.” It came from the couch.

There, you find sleepyhead Derek without a pillow but with a rumpled blanket, arm tucked beneath his head. It’s a rare morning that you’re both home, but you don’t get a second to cherish it. Instead, you have to face the music. You can’t meet his gaze. You’d rather look down at your feet, and so you do.

His eyes follow yours, and he laughs. “Lucky socks?”

“Lucky socks,” you murmur, and find the courage to sit on the floor, leaning against the couch. “We should talk about last night.”

“Give me a second,” he says. Derek shifts on the couch, and you move to let him stand. He walks into the bedroom, disappearing from view. The longer he’s gone, the more you worry. You sit on the couch and fold the blanket, busying your hands in an effort to busy your mind.

You barely breathe until he returns, Chicago Bears football helmet on his head. The smile’s evident in his voice as he says, “Okay, let’s talk.”

Your laugh is shaky, almost breathless. The gesture might be funny if it didn’t remind you of the broken phone, how you’d wanted to hurt him. How you’d screamed. “Derek…”

“I know, I know.” He takes off the helmet and sets it on the coffee table, gently sitting beside you. “You were saying.”

“I’ve never felt like this before,” you confess, nerves rearing their ugly head and suppressing the volume of your voice. “It’s terrifying. I don’t want to be jealous—”

“Honey, it’s understandable—”

“But I am! Because when you’re gone, you’re with her on a case, and I’m at home, worrying if you’re safe. It’s stupid, you’re always careful, and nicknames are just something that you and Penelope do, but…” you exhale, inhale. Exhale again. Breathe. Remember to breathe. “I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what, sweetheart?” Derek’s hands capture yours, running his thumbs over the backs of your hands. The fight wasn’t about Penelope. It was never about Penelope, but fear loves to manifest and disguise itself as anger.

“Losing you, dummy.” Your eyes sting, and you blink to hide the evidence of your tears. He sees them anyway, and brings one of your hands up to his mouth for a kiss. “I never want to lose you. You’re it for me, you know? And I’m not just saying that because you carry my groceries.”

He laughs, but you’re not finished. “You’ve memorised me. You know my favourite colour—”

“Green.”

“My hopes—”

“The Angels winning another World Series.”

“Derek.” You glare at him, and he grins at you. “I mean, you make me feel…”

Derek’s hands slide up your arms, and you forget how to breathe, how to think. “You… I feel…”

His fingers push through your hair, caressing your face. You can’t help but lean into the pressure, sighing as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Your arms are around his waist, palms flat against his back.

Your tongue finds the words. “Like I’m home.”

He grins at that, his lips meeting yours. You’re forgiven, but the fear of losing him remains. The thought of him leaving for good, of walking away or forcing you to walk away, is almost too much to bear. So you beg.

“Stay.” Each kiss is a prayer, a plea. “Stay. Stay.”

Ever the profiler, he sees your fear and shame and desperation. And he answers.

“I’m staying, sweetheart.”

[okayto]

I'm in a reference class right now and I just get so irrationally angry about the requirements.

Like, obviously, the purpose of the class is to make sure all the theoretically-future (or sometimes current) librarians know how to actually look things up AND verify sources AND in a wide variety of subjects and topics. Yes, good, valuable, important.

BUT I hate it so much. I hate questions that sound like they came from an alien whose best human impression comes from old chatbots: "Who is Zora Neale Hurston? What is she known for? Does Sparkle Library have any of her books?" why are you asking the first two questions if you clearly know them enough to ask the third "What's this geologic feature I saw in town? What's its history? Where is it?" can I point you to Google Maps please "What is the meaning of the word fandom?" why am I required to find you four verified resources on a dictionary definition "Can you help me find articles about this topic" yes but our professor hasn't actually given us examples of how they'd 'verify' articles so IDK if this will work even though it's literally exactly how I'd do this in my actual library job where I provide reference services to college students.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

@fruit-punch-clown :3

Tw/Cw for mentions of abuse

《~~~~~》

He didn't remember the last time him and Kijo were in love. He didn't remember the first and last time Kijo ever said that he loved him back. All their relationship was was just Kijo wanted to fuck him, fuck him until Takaaki couldn't even think or form words.

That's all he was.

Not his loving husband who has loved and adored him until the ends of the Earth. Through all the misery. His pain. His abuse. He loved this man. But now he was tired. Takaaki was tired. He couldn't stand his face. His voice. How his hands felt against him. Those pretty words that were all lies.

Takaaki was tired.

And he left.

Takaaki left, no bags, no money, nothing. He just left. Out in the rain, storming off as his sons, Kijo and some of the staff of their home called after him. He could hear Kiyotaka crying for him to not leave, Byakuya's yells to return and Kijo's demands. They fell deaf upon his ears as he left. Cold and angry.

He felt tears in his eyes as he listened to his children scream for him to not leave. He couldn't go back to him. Not to Kijo. Not now. Not ever. He didn't know how far he'd gotten since he left. His entire uniform was wet, the cool breeze making him shiver.

God, he needed a cigarette. If only he didn't leave his lighter during his rush out the mansion. He couldn't call anyone. He was miles away from anyone he knew. It was a long walk. God, he was tired.

He could still hear, in his mind, the screams of his children. Them begging for him not to go.

He needed to go back.

For his boys.

His...his children.

Not right now. No. He couldn't go back now.

He needed to find someplace to stay for the night. He just needed to be by himself.

He found himself in the city, bustling with people. All having umbrellas and such while Takaaki didn't. Looking out of place. He looked so broken in the rain. He soon saw a fancy looking car drive behind him and a few people. His walking pace sped up. Not now you bitch. Not right now.

In a weird moment of habit, he put his hand inside his coat, feeling for his holster that still had his gun. What was he going to do with it? He didn't know.

He shouldn't be so around people. Too many people for his liking. Too many people to see him. What he was running from. Anyone with a brain could easily tell who he was just by seeing him. Kijo would also hate for anyone to see him around Takaaki. If Takaaki was going to be confronted by him, he'd want some place less crowded.

He walked faster.

He thought of what he'd even say if that really was Kijo. He really hoped not. He hoped for Aloysius. The man would be a better sight then his own husband.

By the time Takaaki couldn't see anymore people, he stopped walking. The rain was now at a light drizzle. He sighed when he heard the car stop. A door opening and footsteps. "Takaaki." Kijo started. Takaaki didn't know what made him even stop. He continued his walk. "Takaaki! Get in the car now!" Kijo demanded.

Takaaki didn't answer.

Kijo grabbed his wrist.

Takaaki pointed his gun. "I'm not going back, especially with you." Takaaki said, glaring at the man. "I need to have a moment to myself." Takaaki said, pulling away. "Jesus, Takaaki, at least be reasonable. Pulling a gun on me is idiotic for you." Kijo said as he tried to take it from him. Takaaki put both hands on it, holding it firmly in his grasp. "Don't touch it." He said as he gently tapped the trigger.

"You're acting irrationally!" Kijo said, anger in his tone.

"You followed me!" Takaaki countered.

"I followed you because I want you to go home! With me. To our kids." Kijo's tone softened. His hands were gently placed on Takaaki's. "I want you to come back to me. I am your husband, I'd fall apart without you."

"You...you don't need me. You never loved me. You've never said it. Not to me. Not to all those women you've fucked behind my back! I'm tired, Kijo." Takaaki's face was so full of hatred. "I'm tired of running back to you. I'm tired of being your play thing. I'm done." Takaaki sighed.

"Just...just leave me alone. Just for the night." Takaaki lowered his gun as he gently spoke. His voice shaking.

Kijo held his face, making him feel warm.

"Takaaki, please. Come back home." Kijo pleaded. Takaaki shook his head, leaning into the touch. "Not now." He whispered.

Kijo kissed him. "Please," another kiss, "Please."

"Why?"

"Because...I love you, Takaaki. You're my husband. I married you for that reason. Not just our children." Kijo kissed his nose. "Will you come home with me?" He asked.

Kijo was such a bad liar.

Yet Takaaki found himself back in his arms. Falling for him again with each delicate kiss. He was so tired. But he did want to go home. His husband was home. His children was home. They were his. Takaaki placed his head on Kijo's shoulder, hand to his chest. "I love you, too." He murmured.

Why did he love him so much? The man who's beaten, used him, cheated on him over and over, never once caring for their children. Yet he still found himself crawling right back. Back into his lover's tight hold on him. It was suffocating.

Takaaki loved him.

[idyllic-affections]

migraine comfort ft. kaveh & baizhu

summary. how do kaveh and baizhu comfort a friend with migraines?

trigger & content warnings. depictions of headaches, migraines, and general imagery of being in pain, as well as descriptions of medication and brief mentions of pills.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, comfort. kaveh & reader, baizhu & reader. 0.5k words. no pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. i have a headache like at least once every other day and every now and then i am cursed with a skull-splitting migraine that makes me irrationally angry because i'm sensitive to absolutely everything and am in pain. it is not a fun experience! so i wrote this with my two beloveds.... also slightly inspired by june's kaveh x disabled/chronically ill reader fic <3 also another filler post! my requests have been considerably long recently. there's nothing wrong with that! i adore long requests! it just means they'll take a bit longer to come out because you guys give me really good, detailed material to work with 💕

kaveh, who frantically does what he can to ease your pain and baizhu, who's much more calm and articulate in his treatment of your pain.

kaveh genuinely, wholeheartedly hates seeing you in pain. it makes him feel so unbelievably helpless, knowing that he can only really do so much to make you more comfortable, but he's not really thinking much about himself in the moments that you're feeling bad. he may be feeling a little helpless, but he can't imagine how you must feel. frustrated, he'd guess, considering how your head seems to hurt more often than not. he can only imagine how irritating it must be. he's immediately got all the curtains shut tight and all the lights dimmed if you happen to be sensitive to the brightness and he WILL make it so that there is as little loud noise as possible if you're sensitive to that. absolutely no-one is allowed to be loud in your general vicinity when you're feeling unwell. he will gladly tell just about anyone off in your defense. if you find yourself completely incapacitated by your pain, he will get your meds for you. also your meals; he would be glad to prepare them for you. anything you need. water? he's on it, just stay there. also maybe this is just me, but i seriously sometimes just want a hug when my head hurts. kaveh would totally give you all the hugs you want. i just know that being in his arms would be so warm and comforting.

baizhu also hates seeing you in such pain, but he does understand on a more personal level than kaveh. he knows what it's like; he himself is more often in pain than not, so he has the capacity to be not just sympathetic but also empathetic to your situation. he'll hand-craft medication specifically for you and your needs based on your individual symptoms, taking into account any allergies you might have and also considering if you would prefer liquid, pills, or another form of meds entirely <3 he does his best to accommodate for your personal preferences. everything he does for you is very gentle and careful. also if you're irritable, he gets it. you're in pain. you have every right to be angry, to be quite honest. like kaveh, he'll totally do whatever he can to minimize uncomfortable sensory input. it's too bright? don't worry, he'll close the blinds and curtains for you. someone's being a little too loud and it's making your head hurt more? no, no, stay put. he'll handle it. overall i think he's very doting, but in a more professional way than kaveh is! he dotes on you and you can just tell that he's a doctor because of the way he so skillfully monitors your symptoms. he uses his expertise to make it so that you experience as little pain and discomfort as possible. he'll also give you general advice on how to manage migraines in the future, especially for a situation where he happens to be unavailable for any reason—sometimes he might be unable to help because of his own bodily condition. nonetheless, he does what he can.

overall, both kaveh and baizhu are very lovely and doting and will do everything they can to help you out <3

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!