#aka when i wake up

[0wllight]

sorry for the radio silence ive been consumed by thoughts(tm) I gave my friend the idea of a knight/royalty au but I realized It could also work for sovaspectrum so ive been rotting over that the past hour or two.. help me...

[rnoonsetter]

Buy this print here

[hellomayu]

..but this is a dream, isnt it?

[must4rds33d]

[enters the room timidly] hello… jane eyre nation…

mr. edward fairfax rochester quick study! tried my best to make it fit according to jane’s description as much as i could

(thank u @clair-blake for that lil nudge!! otherwise i actually wouldn’t have the gut to post here lmao >__>)

[sporkberries]

normalize being in your 20's and doing fuck all

[chirpsythismorning]

Robin going from saying When blue and yellow meet in the West to When blue meets yellow in the West could not make it more obvious what they are alluding to

[songmingisthighs]

i got spanx on tighter than my parents ever hugged me and my tits are pushed up so fucking high like they're being offered to God. am omw to an event held by the damn european economic community with guerrilla playing on loop

is this my rebel spy arc ???????

[longtimewish]

I decided that I want to be happy in the saddest way possible so I'm re-reading Noragami again! It was my fav manga for literal years, I stopped reading it around 2020 because it was making me too sad (and like, I already had enough with what was happening in my life) but I've always intended to pick it up again eventually. I somehow managed to NOT get the ending spoiled so wish me luck on this read I have no idea what is coming for me.

[same-pic-of-mercury-everyday]

Time is relative. I've posted 17 pictures a day and none for weeks depending on where you are.

[clockworkcheetah]

yknow im surprised there arent more fics with lydia and amanda

[danganronpa96]

oh god one of my questions got answered,i never expected this also if it isnt spoilers i wonder what nesos does other than death games, like they sound like the biggest coffee monopoly ever

hayasaka casually drinking nesos coffee while everyone around him be dying #swag

Considering all the resources they have to provide to the participants, they'd most likely source some of their own things (that coffee does wonders for the draining soul)

[andthebubbles]

how am I supposed to sleep when I have booping to do

[coldshrugs]

in this state

characters: io laithe / estinien varlineau, alisaie leveilleur word count: 1400 rating: M; descriptions of injuries, language. note: very vague endwalker spoilers. io's friends wait by her side while she's unconscious.

She looks like shit, their Champion.

Battered and bruised, Io lays on a cot in front of where Estinien sits. Her bottom lip is torn, and shallow cuts weave across her bare shoulders and chest. Crusts of dark blood peek through the stitching, and her flesh swells around the wounds.

There is blood in her hair, in the wisps around her face, in the long strands that drape over the cot’s edge. Blood under her nails, too, grotesque in the stark fluorescent light of this room, against the crisp white sheet where someone has neatly folded her arms in feigned comfort.

Her breathing comes slow and shallow, aided by a machine the likes of which he has never seen. It whirs and some mechanism inside pumps, pulling air from the ship's interior and delivering it to her lungs via clear tubes entering her nose. Another contrivance beeps, counting each pulse. Estinien counts too. The starship Ragnarok offers little in the way of distraction, so he keeps track of each feeble breath and endures the pauses that stretch like infinity between the beeping.

They say she will wake soon. That it is only a matter of time. They say she will make a full recovery once her aether has time to replenish and she’s rested…

Not even the Fury herself could grant him enough patience for this.

Alisaie sits across from him, eyes ringed red, gripping the metal cot in place of Io’s swollen hand. She has been here longer than he has, staring down at Io, greeted only by her still face. Occasionally a tear falls between the beeps and whirs, sounding sharp against metal or solid against skin.

Does she realize he stayed behind when the others could no longer bear looking at Io in this state? Does she care that he watches them in silence?

He wishes she would go, just for a few moments. What he would say or do is a mystery–it is not in his nature to plan for something like this. Still, he needs the opportunity to be alone with Io. The girl, however, will not be moved.

“Wake up, damn you,” Alisaie whispers. She inches that much closer, hovering. Aching in a way Estinien feels, too, for her friend to show any sign of progress. “Wake up and tell me what happened to you.”

Estinien lets his head roll back, and it meets the wall with a soft thud. An engine thrums somewhere far off, vibrating softly through the cold metal. He closes his eyes and exhales. It is almost enough to distract him from the repetitive sounds, the nauseating light.

Almost.

“You’re still here.”

He opens an eye. Alisaie looks up at him with the threat of fresh tears. She sniffles.

“Aye.” He crosses his arms. For one brief moment, he considers asking her permission to stay, but he glances down at the still figure between them, and his heart lurches in his chest. No, he will remain at Io’s side until she wakes.

“You care for her, don’t you?” Alisaie asks.

Estinien scowls at the very specific emphasis in the question. He cares about a great many people, Alisaie not least among them. He cares for their causes and their well-being. But that is not what she is asking.

It hasn’t needed a name before now, this feeling. Most often, it is in his chest, unfurling softly each time Io smiles, or rests her head against his shoulder, or speaks kindness to a stranger, until he can feel nothing but her warmth. Other times it shoots up his spine, a radiant pride that strengthens his arm and steadies his aim. It is the knowledge he would follow her anywhere because there is no one he trusts more.

And now it lodges between his ribs, sharp and stinging.

He answers after a long moment.

“Aye.”

Alisaie’s eyes grow wide as if she didn’t expect his frankness. She wipes her tears and sits back. “You could’ve cleared your throat or something instead of letting me blubber all over her like a fool. It goes without saying that this better stay between us, or so help me–”

“I won’t say a thing,” he chuckles quietly. “But I’m not leaving.”

She nods and stands. “Fine. I’ll go see how the others fare. Perhaps there’s some coffee on this godsforsaken ship.” Her steps toward the door are hesitant, eyes sliding between Io on the cot and Estinien seated next to her. “If she wakes…”

“You’ll have returned before then.”

She forces a tight smile and leaves looking a fraction more hopeful.

With the room clear at last, Estinien’s focus returns to Io. Her ragged breathing, her lacerated skin.

He leans over her, a forearm on the cot, and lifts his other hand to her head. His thumb sweeps across her forehead in a delicate arc, careful to avoid the cut near her hairline. He soaks in the warmth of her skin under his hand, the softness of her hair. His fingertips trail down her face, tracing the ridge of her tattooed nose, the curve of her cheek. He burns all of it into his memory, in case–

In case.

“Come back, Io,” he says, too quiet to be heard over the machines. “Don't you want to laugh at me baring my heart to you? We are both in a state.”

And finally, finally, she moves.

Her head turns, settling into the cradle of his palm. Her mouth pulls into a pained grimace and she inhales sharply, a near-silent hiss. The machine counting her pulse speeds up. Estinien's heart beats in his throat, waiting for her eyes to open, but Io stills again.

Except for one word.

One name, scratching its way out of her parched throat.

“Zenos.”

His love, honed to a sharpened point, twists in his ribcage. He fights the urge to recoil lest he worsen her pain. Why, after all this time, after all they’ve been through and the bond he knows they share, is that name the first thing to break her silence?

Estinien hangs his head. “Not what I had in mind."

Perhaps he got ahead of himself, saw more between them than was actually there. Aymeric has, fondly, called him impulsive more than once over the years, and he is not blind to his own recklessness. Perhaps...

No. His instincts have always been strong. His feelings for Io, the signs she reciprocated them, have grown around them for the better part of a year. He is too deeply entangled to let one mention of that bastard make him second-guess what he knows to be true.

Io will have an explanation when she wakes. He is sure of it.

And he will give her time.

“Knock knock.”

He turns to the door, where Alisaie stands, a white ceramic cup in each hand. Her expression is soft as she enters, her eyes locked on the point where Estinien’s hand meets Io’s cheek. He moves away as delicately as he can and leans against the wall.

“Thought you could do with a warm drink. I forgot to ask how you take your coffee, so I just made what I like. Apologies if it's shit.” She presses the cup into his hands. “Did anything happen while I was away? Did she–”

Estinien is not a skilled liar, but Alisaie would worry more than she already does. And for Io, he can keep this secret. He shakes his head. “No. We’re still waiting.”

Maybe it's the coffee or the company, but Alisaie is in higher spirits as she returns to her vigil at Io's side. She sips her drink with a little smile, eying Estinien from behind her cup.

“What?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing...” She trails off with a smile and looks away. It is only a second or two before she turns back to him. “You will tell her how you feel, won't you?–” He groans– “She’d be absolutely thrilled, you imbecile. For reasons beyond my understanding, she thinks the world of you.”

She’s pleading now. Eager to be part of something happier than the sight between them. Even with the quiet rasp of Io’s last word ringing in his mind, Estinien cannot help but smile. Intrusive as it is, her brand of encouragement is endearing, and he can but hope she speaks the truth. 

“One day,” he says, and means it. When Io is well again, when things back home have settled, when the last traces of him have been dredged from her heart. “When the time is right.”

He takes a long drink of coffee, hums a noise of surprise at how similarly it matches his own tastes. Not bad.

Alisaie shoots him a conspiratorial smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

[daz4i]

one thing they don't tell you about song writing is you WILL get hit with inspiration at 1 am and you WILL have to write down the whole thing before you forget and you WILL find a tune for it while typing and now you gotta actually finish it so you can record a draft so you don't forget it and- oh look it's 2:22 am

[doctorwhoisadhd]

cruel that i have to like get out of bed and put clothes on

[ask-the-blue-leader]

Du vet… Jeg ble virkelig overrasket da jeg fant ut at du har en blogg på en side som dette siden jeg aldri trodde du skulle bruke Tumblr i det hele tatt. Men går jeg videre fra det, har jeg bare et enkelt og lett spørsmål til deg… Savnet du meg, Thomas? -Landvik

No… Nono… Nonononononononononono. I-I thought you could not find me after I… I… I am going to close the ask box, right now.