#and i miss home. and i miss my grandpa. and i hate remembering this time last year. i hate parkinson’s. i hate dementia.

[imjustexistingtbh]

i hate crying in the dorm. i don’t like not having anywhere i can be alone and cry

[wannaeatramyeon]

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 6 - Please read chapter 1 first!

Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

“Are we friends?”

Goo jolts at your question and his steps falter. He's walking you back home from work this time. 

Another new habit.

There’s too many unsavoury characters like himself out at this time of night. A sweetheart like you would get eaten alive.

"Hmm," he strokes at his chin, his other hand now having found a steady second home around your shoulder.

A friend? What a novel concept. Certainly, you and him tick the boxes of traditional friendship.

Sure.

Though…

To consider you only as a friend, with his own budding feelings simmering below the surface and shoved in a dusty corner at the back of his mind. Well, it does something to his stupid little heart that he doesn’t want to unpick just yet.

He’s not sure he likes the sound of this.

Perhaps it's really for the better. Anything more will just cause complications for him that he definitely does not need.

And he really does hate when things are unnecessarily complicated.

"Why?" Goo asks, tone sweet and smile sly. Avoiding giving you a direct answer, "Want something more?"

"Goo!" You give him a rough shove with your shoulder, your comfort in his company a world away from your first meeting.

He whines immediately at the impact, probably had the whine at the ready before you even touched him. Goo rubs at his chest like you could have hurt him. 

Like he isn’t a solid wall of muscle, and you haven’t seen him receive and dish out much worse damage.

“So vicious!” he teases, “You need to pay for my pain and suffering.”

“Goo!”

“Y/N!” he repeats, a mirror of your mocking pitch.

A brief stare-off.

Goo breaks first, he always does.

“Why are you asking?”

You shuffle your feet, buying time, feeling a little self-conscious and a lot cringe. “Weeeell. If we’re friends, shouldn’t we stay in contact?”

“Sure?” Goo’s brow furrows as he elongates the word, not certain where you’re going with this.

“I don’t have your number.”

Ah. That’s what this is? That’s why you started your nervous fiddling? Goo grins.

“You don’t?!” He immediately pulls his phone out, “Well why didn’t you say! Don’t give it to anyone else, ok? I’m very in-demand.”

Huffing at his self importance, "Just pass it over. We can keep in touch during vacation."

"You mean your plans don't involve me?!"

.

.

No, your plans don’t even involve being in the city.

School vacation means your working parents shipping you off to a relative. An aunt or uncle or grandparents. And usually you don’t mind.

You always fondly look back on these moments, tinged sepia with nostalgia when you remember running through wheat fields and dusty dirt paths in the countryside. Playing alongside village kids that you see a few times a year.

This time is no different, but there’s someone you’re already missing. Not even a whole 24 hour apart yet.

Listening to your grandpa snoring and watching the fireflies outside your window, you wonder if Goo, that cityslicker, would like it here. If he could appreciate the simple peace or would he go insane with boredom.

As if on cue, your phone pings. Like his ears have been burning knowing you are thinking about him.

“I’m bored,” it reads, accompanied with a selfie with finger guns against his head.

You smile as you tap back a reply.

.

.

Goo's phone pings as he narrowly misses a knife swinging at his head.

He pulls it out to read your message even when Gun tells him off for being distracted.

.

.

Another ping leads to Goo taking both hands off the steering wheel, Gun having to quickly correct the car’s trajectory to prevent it driving off the side of a cliff.

He aims a punch at his partner and it starts another fight.

.

.

Gun’s dinner is interrupted by incessant chimes from Goo’s phone, followed by the tapping of his stupid fingers on the screen.

It’s like nails on a chalkboard. He wants to break each and every one.

Gun takes the remainder of his meal and moves to the other side of the restaurant. 

Goo doesn’t notice.

.

.

Gun is cut off mid-sentence as a finger is held up to his face. So close his eyes cross as he focuses on it

“...the fuck?”

“Sh sh shhhhh~ ” Goo shushes him, already half bored to tears listening to Gun talk about the merits of Jeet Kune Do. He is luckily saved by his phone ringing, pouncing on it as Gun wonders whether he should snap that finger still waving in his face or not.

The blonde is positively giddy seeing your name flashing across his screen. Oh! Your first call together and he has so missed the sound of your voice.

He swipes to answer, walking off and dismissing his partner.

“Princess! You just saved me from the dullest conversation. I thought I died and gone to hell!”

Maybe Gun should have snapped his finger and his neck.

.

.

Goo has become awfully fond of your calls and messages.

Truly, what a wonderful show of initiative from you asking for his number. He didn't realise you could be so forward.

Anytime day or night, you've become his go to for whenever he has something to say.

And he has so many things he wants to say.

.

.

This is insidious, Goo thinks, lying awake; tossing and turning as sleep evades him.

You have sunk your claws into his life. Have a terribly firm hold on him that he doesn’t know how to shake off.

It’s in the dead of night, when everything has calmed and he tries to rest, that his traitorous brain whirs.

His fondness for you has grown so naturally, so organically that he barely had time to figure out what was going on before he was already in too deep.

No wonder he clings to you so much. No wonder he makes himself front and centre of your life, insistent on your full attention which you give him with little hesitation.

Goo thinks about his future, and is disappointed to find his mind betrays him. He used to daydream about rolling around on a pile of money. Resting on stacks of cash, because who needs cushioning anyway? 

Now he thinks how much fun it would be if you joined him.

You. The absolute opposite of him.

Huh. Maybe opposites do attract.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Perc'ahlia Week: Free/Random

we did it folks! thanks to everyone who participated in @percahliaweek, esp the good folks who organized this whole thing! it's been so much fun to explore these prompts! here's hoping i stick the landing.

Percival de Rolo III wakes up on his last day knowing that he will not see another dawn. It hardly scares him; if anything, his aching joints have been screaming for rest for ages now, each one creaking and stiff like an unwound clock. He doesn't know where the certainty comes from, only that it doesn't feel macabre or fatalistic. He is going to die today. Better get a move on.

He doesn't begrudge Vex'ahlia's stubborn insistence that he's fine. He doesn't begrudge Vex'ahlia's stubborn anything. He lets her perform her morning ritual as usual, lies still as she grips one of his hands in both of hers and pours into him every ounce of magic she has for the day. The healing doesn't work, because he is not injured, merely human. Still, he smiles and thanks her, and they both pretend that it made things better.

Over breakfast in bed (all of his breakfasts are in bed these days, as are all of his other meals, and in fact the vast majority of his time), he quietly asks her to gather their family. She freezes, her forkful of eggs halfway up to her mouth. His vision is not what it used to be, but she is so beautiful, the golden rays of Pelor's dawn sparkling in her hair, now more silver than brown. She has always glittered, something beautiful and wild, a dragon who made a hoard of his heart.

She sets her fork down. She does not look at him. She asks if he's sure. He says that he is. She believes him, because after seven decades, she knows he is not a liar. It is a feat, the way she schools her expression into something that doesn't shatter his heart in two. She smiles and kisses his cheek. "Of course, darling."

They come, because for the past year or so, they have been preparing themselves for this very thing. Keyleth is called first, and she takes it upon herself to gather the most far-flung. Percy misses most of their arrivals; his energy wanes quickly after breakfast, and he passes in and out of sleep until a pair of lips on his cheek stir him back to consciousness. "Hi, Grandpa."

Vesper's eldest, Whitney, helps him into a sitting position. He feels each and every one of his bones as he moves. Beside her, her husband, an elven man Percy remembers not trusting for years, holds their infant son. Whitney's eyes are red and swollen. "Mimi says you...wanted everyone here."

Percy lets out a coughing laugh; gods above, they're great-grandparents now, and Vex still hates being called grandma. "I don't think I have many goodbyes left in me, dear. Better to get them all out while I can."

She sniffs. "Can't...can't Aunt Kiki do something?"

Slowly, he reaches over to pat her hand where it rests on the bedspread. "Keyleth has done more for me than any man deserves, as has your grandmother, as has Pike. I have seen my share of sunsets and sunrises, Whitney. Time for...better eyes than mine to take a look."

Just then, the door to the master suite opens, and more de Rolos come spilling in like light through an open window. Wolfe is first, one arm around Gwen, clearly keeping her upright; Danny follows, his aunt Cassandra hobbling beside him, leaning heavily on his arm. Danny's followed by his son, Shaun, and Shaun's very pregnant partner, whose name Percy can't remember. It's disorienting, but not the first time Percy's memory has failed him. Once he had the sharpest mind in Whitestone, keen enough to make the inventions that set his home years ahead of the rest of the continent, technologically speaking, but most days now, his mind feels like a sieve, permeable, untrustworthy.

Still, he smiles as the rest of his family spills in, children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, twenty in all, not including Cass, who is given the chair right by his bedside. So many de Rolos, in a castle once entirely empty of them. Percy sees so much of the family he lost in their faces—his mother's eyes, his father's nose, Ludwig's jaw, Whitney's hair—and not for the first time, he knows what it means to be immortal in the most human way.

As they say their goodbyes, as they sniff away tears, as they promise him to do right by their family name, he knows that the legacy he has been chasing his entire life, one not stained with blood and black with smoke, has been a fool's errand. His family is not his legacy. They are people, just as he is, no more, no less. They will be great and they will be terrible and they will make mistakes and they will make the world a better place because the gods know that Percy has been far from a perfect man, but he believes he has done what he can to sow in their hearts the seeds of kindness, charity, empathy. He cannot claim them as his legacy because they are still building legacies of their own, ones that will reach far beyond his time in this realm.

He lets them kiss his cheek. He whispers his love, over and over, endless and true. He smiles and looks into each of their faces, hoping the sieve lasts long enough to carry him into whatever comes next.

.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he awakes, the only de Rolo who remains is Cass. He can't see the white stripe in her hair anymore, because it is all white now. Her eyes are a soft blue, belying her almost complete lack of vision. Percy squeezes her hand. "You still with me, Cass?"

"You're asking me?" They both grin. "I've been trying to get rid of you for years. It's about time you got out of here."

"Yes, well, you remember how Mother used to scold me for being so slow to rise in the mornings."

"That's because you'd stay up until all hours reading."

"Which is why I'm so much smarter than you."

She rolls her eyes, and the air shifts, cools into something more melancholy. "Are you so sure it's now? You seem in such high spirits for a man convinced he's going to die today."

Percy doesn't know how to explain to her the knowing, the certainty in his bones that he could count the number of words he has left. He thinks of a night when they were young, far younger than they are now, when Cass would crawl into his bed during a thunderstorm, shaking and afraid. He tries to explain it the same way he explained to that little girl that the thunder wasn't going to hurt her. "The gods have seen my hubris, my cruelty, my ego throughout the years...and they have loved me anyway. How else do you explain this?" He gestures weakly with his free hand, and he knows that she knows he's not referring to the castle and its riches. "I awoke this morning with my wife beside me in the home that we built, and I felt their calling in my chest. I am not long for this world, Cassandra." Tears slip quickly and silently down her nose. "I'm not afraid. Whatever is coming for me, good, bad, or ugly, it was worth what I experienced here, with my family. With you. I should have died with the rest of our siblings, with Mother and Father, that terrible night. I didn't. Everything after has been...a gift."

"A gift for me." She brings his hand up to her mouth, kisses his papery skin with her thin lips. "Your children and grandchildren, they've been a gift to me, too. Thank you for giving me my family back, Percival."

He smiles, and new fatigue washes over him. His eyes blink slow and long, and she pats his hand. "Rest now, brother. You still have work to do."

He wants to argue, but the sleep rushes over him, dark and warm, like smoke.

.

When Percival de Rolo III awakens for the last time, he is very much not alone. Perched on his left side is Keyleth, timeless and ethereal. The circlet and mantle of her station are gone, and for a moment, they're kids again, the entire world at their feet. Her eyes are glassy, and he has to be impressed that she hasn't started crying yet.

Standing on the foot of the bed, each holding onto a poster, are Pike and Scanlan. Like Keyleth's, neither's face belies much of the past seventy-odd years, but he can't find it in himself to be jealous of all the life they have yet to live. He thinks himself lucky to have had this, such a perfect little slice of the world, fit exactly to size for him.

Between the two of them, already a blubbering mess, is Taryon, the only person in the room who looks the way Percy feels. His liver spots match Percy's, which must drive Tary crazy. He wonders if this is harder or easier for him, given that Tary has already been grieving Lawrence these past six years or so. He hopes that Tary can be of use to Vex, though if he had to guess, he'd think Keyleth is better suited to the task.

Because she is also here, his heart, his Vex'ahlia. She sits at his right hand, where Cass had been earlier, and gently runs her fingers over the inside of his wrist. She has never been anything less the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and not for the first time, though perhaps for the last, he thanks the gods for allowing her to be his. Well over half a century together, and he knows by the tremulous bob of her throat and the eyes that will not meet his that she is using every ounce of her formidable strength to keep herself in one piece.

"Hey, Percy." He looks back to Scanlan, whose shit-eating grin has not changed a bit in all these years. "If you finally wanted that six-way, you didn't have to say you were dying to get us here. You could have just asked."

Pike punches his shoulder, but Percy laughs. "You'd never...keep up with me...Scanlan."

"Yeah, I bet that's true." He reaches down to pat Percy's foot beneath the blankets. "You always were a better man than me."

"The bar is in hell," Pike grumbles under her breath, and Percy coughs out another laugh. They must be off-again, he guesses. Well, it was nice of them to come, regardless.

"Tary." The man in question cries twice as hard when Percy says his name. "Have I ever told you...how proud I am...of you?"

Tary brings a shaking hand up to wipe at his eyes, and Pike pats his arm reassuringly. "That's what I care about. If a guy like you could see the good in a guy like me...well, I knew I was gonna be okay."

And Tary is more than okay, Percy knows. He's done more good in the world than any of them would have thought possible the day they met him, arrogant and annoying and so very naïve. Percy is proud of him, proud of the work they've done together and apart. Someday, not too long from now, these same people will gather around Tary, usher him as gently from this world as they do for Percy now, and Percy can only hope that they sing his praises as loudly as he deserves.

Pike hops up onto the bed, her socked feet padding over so she can kneel by his elbow in front of Keyleth. She grips her holy symbol, now worn and smoothed, in one hand and rests the other over Percy's heart. "Everlight, please carry my friend into the next life with the same light and compassion he has shown me in our time together." Her voice is strong, but Percy can hear the tremble in it. "As faithful as I have been to you in my life, he has been twice as faithful to me, to his friends, to his family, to the people of Whitestone. And I think you and I both know that faith does not come quite so easily to some as it does to others." She opens one eye to grin at him, and he winks back. She closes the eye again to finish her prayer. "Let his soul rest among his ancestors, and may your benevolent light never stray from those he leaves behind."

There is a long beat of silence, and though his eyes are not what they used to be, Percy swears the mid-afternoon light streaming in from the wrought-iron windows flares just a bit brighter. Pike releases her holy symbol, leans down, and kisses his cheek. "Y'know," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear, "for someone doomed by the narrative, you did alright for yourself, Percy."

"I couldn't...have done it without you."

The first of Pike's tears falls, and she slips back to the foot of the bed wiping at her eyes. Percy lets his head tip to the side, and Keyleth's face is as red as her hair, her own tears falling fast and loose down cheeks that don't look a day over thirty. "Hey."

"Hey." She sniffs, taking his hand in both of hers. "I know...I have a lot of goodbyes coming my way. Goodbyes I don't even know about because the hellos haven't happened yet. But you...fuck." She scrubs at her eyes with the back of her wrist. "I don't know what my life looks like without you, Percy. I don't wanna find out."

Oh, he truly does not envy her yawning years. He knows no one who deserves to have her heart broken less than Keyleth does, and yet he knows that so much heartbreak awaits her in the millennium to come. He squeezes her hand, and he prays to the Dawnfather that all of that heartbreak does not quiet her, does not harden her heart from the joys this world has to offer. Keyleth was made for sunlight, for spring flowers, for flight. The shadows will come, but they must not dull her shine.

"Keyleth, Voice of the Tempest." He attempts to gather as much authority into his weak voice as he can muster. "I charge you with not just the welfare of Zephrah, but with that of Whitestone, and of Tal'dorei as a whole. There is no one I trust more to act as steward of these people. Your wisdom, your generosity, your empathy...more than ever, you are needed to bestow your gifts upon Exandria. You know..." He smirks up at her. "We've met gods, Keyleth. And this may not be the best time to blaspheme, but they've got nothing on you."

She throws herself onto him, and it hurts, but he takes it. One last hug from his best friend, from the sister he gained after so much loss. Her tears soak into his neck, and for the first time today, his own prickle behind his eyes. He regrets all of the things he will miss, the wonderful accomplishments of his friends, his progeny, his neighbors. It is such a mortal thing, to know that the world will keep spinning in your absence, and to love and hate the spin for it. But someday, even the ageless Voice of the Tempest will rest, and if the gods know any mercy, he will see her again.

Before she pulls away, a shaking, sniffling mess, she whispers in his ear, "Tell him I still love him?"

He nods. He already knows, but Percy will tell him anyways.

As if on cue, there is a small commotion near the one open window on the far side of the chamber, and everyone turns to see a raven, too large to be natural, resting on the sill, as if it has always been there. There is a cracked sob from Percy's right, and he turns his head to see his wife covering her mouth with her hand.

Just enough time left, then.

"Come here." A small tug to her hand, and she's coming up to sit beside him, hip to hip. She brushes his thin, limp hair from his face, and he struggles to bring her hand, wrinkled and beautiful, to his lips. "What a life, eh?"

Her answering smile is watery. "The best one I could have imagined. It's the best gift you've given me."

"Well, I gave you quite a lot."

"It's my love language, darling, and you were always so fluent."

He laughs at that, and it dissolves into a cough. The raven flutters its wings in his periphery. "Let them take care of you?" His eyes cast over their friends before returning to her crumpled face. "We didn't create this wonderful life together for you to be alone when I'm gone. There are so many people who love you, Vex'ahlia de Rolo, and while I will always be the first among them, in this world or the next, I am not worried for you."

Her hair, unbraided and streaked with silver, spills onto his chest as she leans over him. "I'm not worried for you, either. I know that wherever you're going, I'll find you. I'll always find you. It's kind of my thing, after all." She sniffs loudly. "So take my heart with you, alright? I'll want it back when I get there."

"My extraordinary, incomparable wife. My heart, my judgement. My treasure, my salvation."

Crying, she kisses him, and it feels just like it did that first time, in a snow-capped wood, when they were kids and death was just another monster they could slay. He tastes the salt of her tears and the warmth of her skin and he knows every agony, every loss, every sorrow was always and will always be worth her. For the briefest moment, his heart pinches, a desperate wish to stay, but when his final kiss with his wife ends, he's smiling, because how many men can go to their deathbeds with no regrets?

He looks to his friends once more, each one a gift, a story, a legacy, and with a fading voice, says, "Vox Machina. What an honor it's been to change the world with you." His eyelids feel so heavy; he's already slept so much today. To his wife, he murmurs, "Dear, do you mind if I rest for a moment?"

"Of course, darling." She bends down to kiss his cheek. "Rest now. I'll be here."

The last things he sees are Vex's shining eyes, and across the room, a raven taking flight.

.

When Percy opens his eyes, he sees them, his friends, their heads bowed and shoulders trembling. They are circled around his deathbed, and Percy watches them mourn. It's far and away the strangest scene he's ever beheld.

"Percival Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III."

He turns, a smile already coming to his face. Oh, the ease with which he moves! He looks down at his hands—smooth and dexterous, hands he hasn't seen in years. "Would you look at that."

The black-feathered figure in the corner of the room is masked, so Percy can't see his face, but Percy doesn't need to see the smirk to feel it. "A handsome bastard once again, I see."

"Screw you, I was always handsome."

"No arguments here." The Champion of Ravens strides closer, and Percy can't help but feel a bit intimidated. "Welcome home, brother."

And they are embracing, reunited after so many decades of grief. "Thank you," Vax murmurs, in his strange, not-quite-Vax voice. "Thank you for taking care of them."

"It was my privilege." They separate, and the two dead men look at the ones they've left behind. "We still felt your loss. Every day, we navigated the hole your absence created. Them in particular." He gestures to Vex and Keyleth, who hold hands over his body's torso as they weep. "I just hope I did enough to help them find the way."

"You did. And now it's my turn." Vax sweeps a hand back, and the door to the chamber opens, but instead of the marbled hall he's used to, Percy sees only a brilliant, blinding white light.

Percy frowns. "Is Grog in there? To be honest, I thought he'd be the first to greet me. You know how bored he gets without someone to entertain him."

"I'm afraid I don't know. I only walk to dead to their doors. I don't get to see what's inside."

For the first time today, Percy's heart well and truly breaks. "Well, just know that as long as they live—" He jerks his head toward the remaining members of Vox Machina. "—your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

"I live as long as they live."

Percy chuckles. "First the mask, now the quotes—you want to be me so bad."

"Get in the light before I throw your ass in there, Freddie."

Grinning, Percy claps him on the shoulder as he passes by, letting is strong legs and youthful knees take him toward the door. Just a step away from the frame, he stops, bathed in the warm, mysterious light. He looks back one last time at his family, wonderful and perfect and his, and murmurs, "What a nice story, indeed." And then he steps into the light.

[blue-jisungs]

home

a/n. i hate feeling homesick >:( i love jay btw did you know that? did i mention that i love him? no i said i love him? guys i think i love jay?

everyone was having fun.

jake decided to plan a small game night and it went absolutely chaotic. but you loved it.

the way riki and sunoo were kicking each other’s ankles during twister. or how sunghoon was grinning about being the richest in monopoly just to realise that he spend all of his money on a place that people barely walk step on. and when jake and heeseung durning charades had to interpret you and jay, as a couple, you lost it.

but whilst playing uno, you zoned out a bit. the sudden nostalgia hit you because it’s been so long since you played uno. the last time you did was way before you moved to korea. you remembered how your dad thought no one can see he’s cheating and your sister getting all pouty about it. and the loser had to do the dishes…

"okay, let’s order something. i’m hungry!" jake announced and stood up, looking for his phone.

jay noticed that you’re mentally somewhere else and was about to as if everything’s okay but jungwon tugged his sleeve.

he turned around to meet his soft gaze.

"pizza or ramyeon?"

you took a deep sigh and decided to take a breath of fresh air. good thing that there was a balcony nearby.

jay turned around and frowned, confused by your disappearance. he stood up from the floor and smiled tenderly to himself, spotting you on the balcony.

"hey, you’re there?" his voice rung out in the silence. because he slid the glass door open, you could hear the chatter of boys in the background.

"yeah" you hummed, turning your head to look at him. your boyfriend stepped outside, closing the door and cutting off the noise.

"are you though? you seem… absent" jay sat down next to you, on a wooden bench. you sighed and looked up at the starry sky. the moon was high up, peeking through the high buildings.

you sat in silence, gathering your thoughts. jay grabbed a nearby blanket and covered you with it.

"i miss home…" you mumbled, putting up your legs and pressing your knees to your chest. there was a strange buzzing feeling inside you, that you knew too well and didn’t want to let out. not now.

jay nodded, brows furrowing slightly.

"i was… so happy to move out, start a new life. but i miss them" you whispered, knowing that if you continue, your voice would probably break.

so instead you rested your head on jay’s shoulder, sighing. his arm wrapped around you, bringing you even closer. the smell of his cologne mixed with his… his scent that you loved so much, hit your nose.

"i understand what you feel" he answered after a while, fingers brushing up and down on your skin in a soothing motion "i miss my family too. i know it’s hard. but…"

you rose your chin a bit to look at him. when he was with you, he allowed himself to relax. his features softened, pure care and love in his ebony eyes.

"…but i like to think that you’re my home now"

the buzzing feeling turned into a heat wave spreading on your body, heart skipping a beat.

"i do miss them. but i have you, y/n. my home, my love" he hummed and looked down, locking eyes with you.

you wanted to say something. to react somehow. but his words made your heart melt and brain halting in so many ways that you physically couldn’t. but he didn’t need reassurance. he could read you like an open book and he knew.

and the softest smile you’ve ever seen painted on jay’s lips. you’d probably stay like that for a while, puppy eyes locked with each other but–

"the food arrived–!" riki opened the door, yelling. but then he saw you two and closed them, backing off "okay, grandpa and grandma need a moment…"

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist: @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @lhsng ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount

[purrplegyuu]

Cold | Choi Beomgyu

Index

Chapter three

Warnings: unhappiness, slightly angst, soft beomgyu, abusive mother, swearing. omg the softest chapter eveeer

Word count: 1.4k

Taglist: @arianap23e, @haatohwa

I don't know why is it soooo soft, I don't like it ughhh. Like this is a dark story. Anyways, the following chapters are gonna be waaaay darker (i mean i hope). I kinda like soft Beommie tho...

Let me know if you find any kind of mistake, i'm not a native speaker and this helps me so so so much ^_^

Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, if you want to suggest an event to happen on next chapters or if you have any question about any detail. Luv yaa (●'◡'●)

I’m not happy. I know that. I know I will never go to school with a bright smile on my face like Jiwoo, because unlike her, I don’t have anything that makes me enjoy sitting on an uncomfortable chair for hours, looking at the professors as if I am paying attention, and talk kindly to my classmates as if I don’t hate them so much.

I even started to believe happiness is a vile lie American series have shown to us.

However, lately, these bad feelings have been increasing. And dad knows that.

That’s why he came home early on a saturday night and announced that we were going on vacation to that pretty house on a lake that his mother left him as an inheritance. 

“You okay guys?” He asks while driving, looking at me through the mirror. I smile slightly at him, nodding. “Gyu, I heard you got really good grades again. Bet your mother is really really proud” Beomgyu looks at him back, quiet, and totally ignores him. 

The awkward aura all over the car now, as dad looks at Beomgyu’s mother, scared of making his relationship even worse. He has tried thousands of ways to get along with Beomgyu, but the boy sitting by my side never really cared.

Once we arrive, dad gets out of his car, stretching his back. I look at Beomgyu. He really hates my father. At least that’s what it looks like—he gets even darker when our parents are close to him, doesn’t even smirk at any kind of jokes and doesn’t say a single word until they are far away again. 

But today, he looks even more dark than usual, which makes me feel a bit scared.

I get out of the car when he does. I see his mother running towards my dad in order to enter the house with him. 

We both stand in front of the house quietly, looking at the way our parents play like kids with their luggage as they take it in the house. They really look like a young couple. However, I find it a bit weird, but I guess it is just because I never liked her.

I look around. There are so many memories from my childhood—the garden full of flowers I planted when I was five, the rustic oven I used to make pizza in when I was eight, the lake where I learned how to swim when I was nine. But everything looks just too old and dirty—it’s been seven years since the last time we came here, it’s been seven years since the last time I enjoyed being in such a place… it’s been seven years since I last saw her.

I walk through the trees until I have reached a certain place. A small dock made of old wood, mouldy and poorly stable. Hundreds of drawings all over one of the wood tiles—’Jeongseo’ on top of everything, followed by ‘Namhyuk’ and ‘Dami’.

I really miss those times.

By 6 p. m., dad calls me to the big dock in front of our house. 

“Gaeum, honey, could you please go get the meat?” Beomgyu’s mom smiles at him, and makes a disgusted face when she turns around. Dad’s on the white boat his father used to drive right before dying three years ago. Everything I can think about when I see it, is him swearing he will never use it again because it was his dad’s, not his.

“We’re taking Luna on an expedition” he says. I can see the happiness on his face. Luna is the name grandpa gave his boat. “Remember when we used to go to the other side of the lake?” I nod. “Well, we are going to go there to take the dinner tonight” a big smile on his face makes me force myself to smile although I’m not happy or excited. 

“I will go get a sweater”

When I get in the house, I don’t see Gaeum in the kitchen, which I found a bit weird, but don’t really pay attention to it. I go to my room, take a pink sweater and try it on in front of the mirror. I’m wearing a long-sleeved dark shirt which is supposed to cover me up enough to make me feel warm, however, the short jean skirt makes it hard for me to get warm. Even with a big coat, and in the house, I’m trembling.

However, I get out of my room, holding a white blanket, and stop walking when I hear some noises in Beomgyu’s room. The door is closed, so I cannot see anything, but I don’t also see any light under the door, even though it’s 6:30 p. m., and it’s very dark already. 

“Don’t be fucking dumb” Gaeum’s voice sounding so different—meaner, unlike her usual fake sweet voice tone. “Could you please think a bit? Ha, you’re almost an adult, why would I have to ask you to not be so dumb?” The door of my room closes strongly due to the air running through my open window, which makes me jump, touching my chest. No more sounds in the room makes me feel scared someone can catch me, so I walk back to the door.

Gaeum gets out of Beomgyu’s room, and I look at her, trying to look as natural as possible, holding tightly my blanket, faking a blank face to her like I didn’t hear anything. 

“What?” I ask when she keeps looking at me. I even impress myself with my almost perfect acting. 

“Are you ready? I’m asking Beomgyu if he is also ready” I look in his room. He’s not visible from outside, so I just nod to her, going down once again.

Some minutes after that, Gaeum gets on the boat, giving dad the things he asked for and his coat. Beomgyu walks behind her, blank face as always, and doesn’t look at dad, just gets in the boat and sits by my side. 

Dad knows perfectly how to drive the boat, so he does it while we all try to warm ourselves with our coats.

The place we and Beomgyu are sitting is lower than the place our parents are at, so they can’t see us unless they go down.

That’s why he puts his hand on my thigh, caressing it as we’re alone over there. I look at him, looking at the lake deeply. His soft hair moving with the air, his face even prettier than ever, flawless skin, and some red marks on his cheeks like he has just cried. 

“You don’t seem that happy” he says, still looking at the lake. 

“I never look happy” I say, jokingly. Spending so much time with Jiwoo has started to affect me. But he doesn’t laugh. The silence makes me want to be sincere with him. Guess he has this effect on me. “I don’t really like here” He turns around to look at me, almost surprised at my words. It’s a pretty and almost paradisiacal place. Why wouldn’t I like it? “Everything I can think about when I’m here is her… the last time I saw mom” 

We stay silent for a few minutes, weirdly enjoying each other’s company. 

Then, he talks once again. “I know you listened” his husky voice should make me feel scared, however, his hands touching me so softly, his head against mine, his arm around me, his body warming me up… I can’t be scared even if he says he will kill me after that.  And I wonder if that kind of scenes are the reason I love him so much even when he treats me so wrong most of the time. Maybe I don’t love him, maybe I just love the way he treats me so wrong, but sometimes, he acts like he loves me back.

I don’t try to deny it. He knows me well. The voice tone he used isn’t even doubtful. He knows I listened.

“Don’t want to know why was she so mad?” Weirdly, everytime he doesn’t use pet names, it’s just because he’s treating me well. 

I look at him quietly. I find it a bit acted the way he fakes peace, like it doesn’t really bother him. His eyes a bit red, like his nose and cheeks. 

“She found out I’m fucking someone” He flashes a bit more than usual. “, and scolded me for not using condom” His eyes shiny, and can feel like he’s being forced or something like that. However, I don’t say anything.

I never say anything. 

[neverinadream]

~~~~ | C O W B O Y ! C H R I S T I A N A U | ~~~~

~~~~~~ | B E C O U N T R Y W I T H M E | ~~~~~~

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader (Slightly OC)

Song Inspo: Thank God For Hometowns - Carrie Underwood

Warnings: cowboy!christian, ranch hand!christian, soft!christian, references to maternal loss, fractured family ties/broken relationships, fluff, some angst, a little bit nsfw, you not realising that you and christian went to high school together, very much inspired by heartland

Notes: AGAIN everyone go thank @christian-pulisic for this idea getting stuck in my head. this isn't a full fic or anything, just little snippets/teasers of ideas - thoughts?? did we like it??? all gifs were found on pinterest

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you lost, miss?" Grandpa Jack lifts his usual morning cup of coffee up to his lips. He had been drinking out of the same cup for nearly fifty years; it was a gift from his late wife, Lily, a muted green colour with a horseshoe painted on the front of it. A chip on the rim had been painted over in a colour that almost matched, and the handle had already been stuck back on twice. He drank every cup of coffee from it, and he would do for the rest of his life. Those were his words. "This is Middleton, full of small town, country bumpkins," he calls out, shouting over the loud thud as you close the boot of your car, "the turning off for the big city is a few miles back! You might find yourself more suited with those kinds of folks!"

Pulling the strap of your duffel bag over your shoulder and half-smiling at your grandpa's half assed attempt at goading you into giving him a reaction, you lift your hand into the air, waving it in his direction. He waves back, welcoming you with a warm smile. A smile that you hadn't expected to see.

You breathed a sigh of relief but could still feel that small bubble of nerves. It had been over four years since you had last been back to Middleton. College had been your one-way ticket out of here, and you had never looked back. No family. No old high school friends. Nothing for four years. Just a quick phone call every once in a while to say you were doing fine.

"Hi, Grandpa."

"Welcome home, Pumpkin."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"If you hate this town so much, then why'd you come back?"

"That's a good question," you reply, tapping your fingers absentmindedly against the passenger side window. It was true. You hated Middleton. It was full of people too nosy for their own good, who had nothing better to do with their time than to gossip and spread rumours about everyone else's lives. You grew up knowing more about the supposed affair the local doctor was having than you could've personally wanted to know. "It's..." You take a quick glance at the driver side; his focus was entirely on the stretch of road in front of him. "Uh, next week will mark ten years since my mom died."

"Your mom, she was amazing with horses-"

"Grandpa Jack's been telling you about her?" You interrupt him to ask. It surprised you to think about your Grandpa talking openly about your mother to someone who didn't know her. As a teenager, you could barely get him to talk about her after she had died. "Like he actually talked to you about her?"

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel, a soft chuckle dancing on his tongue. "You really don't remember me, do you?"

"Sorry?" You look across at him, catching his gaze for just a second, and then he looks back at the road again. "Am I supposed to remember you?"

"Well, now ma'am, that just hurts."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Grandpa Jack's gonna kill you if he finds out," you warn, feeling dizzy on the whiskey you could taste on his tongue.

"He ain't gonna do nothing, sweetheart," he counters, tugging on your bottom lip, before working his way down, "because with me gone, he'd finally have to do some work around here."

His beard scratches at the inside of your thigh, touching every bit of your skin with a gentle kiss. He listens to your whimpers as he nips his teeth at a hickey just barely visible from your last encounter, dragging his tongue across it to sooth the ache. "Look here, baby," he nudges the tip of his nose against the damp spot on your panties, "you're already making a mess." You bite your bottom lip as he pushes his thumb against it. He needs no compass or map to find your clit below your panties, rubbing it through the material in slow circles. The sounds you make have the corners of his lips curling into a soft smile. "Have I told you how sweet you sound? Sweet like fresh honey, baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~ | F O O T B A L L T A G L I S T | ~~~~~~~

@shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @greykitkepa @thoseboysinblue @breakablehcaven

[aleksa-sims]

RL Simself Story ( 18+)

CW: Pregnancy, Babies, loss, blood

Another day at my grandparents drew to a close. After Dilek made her way home, N. and I got in a discussion. Not about her, it was about Alex, Daniel's Brother. 😔

Alex wrote me a letter, bcs he couldn’t call me. Daniel was against it! However, Alex mentioned a date in his letter. He wanted to see me! He said/wrote, he will wait for me in front of my and Daniel’s apartment on that particular day. I really wanted to see Alex!! I wanted to know what’s going on with Daniel and why he left me??? But as you can imagine, Nico was against it. Which was totally understandable!! That’s why I tried to talk to Nico about it. N. didn’t forbid me, but he let me know, he was disappointed in me. 🙁😞

He didn’t want to start a fight and just went over to M.’s room, while I cleande up our dishes in the kitchen. Nico asked M., what's wrong with Ana?? Why's she avoiding me?? So my Cuz told him what happend between Ana, Adam, Dennis & me in their dorm a few weeks ago. Yup! "Agh, thanks, bro!" 🤦‍♀️😒Such a moron!

Anyway! Now I'm gonna tell you about the dress I found in my room this afternoon. I thought it was my Mom’s! I really loved that dress! I felt so pretty in it. But my Grama seemed to hate it? I had the impression my Grama didn’t want to tell me exactly what she had against the dress I was wearing? She just said it's hers, not my Mom's!! And well, before I went to bed, I wanted to try to talk to her about this thing again in peace. She just came out of the bathroom. My Grampa was still sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a western movie. 😄He and his bloody, old, western movies. 😆😆Agh, I hated them!

Back to that dress. I entered the bedroom. My grandma was expecting me. She knew I had questions and was ready to talk to me about it.

My Grams was born and raised in Italy. She had three siblings! 2 Sisters and a Brother. When my Grams was 16, she went to Greece with one of her sisters, who's 2 years older than her, to work there. They worked in a hotel. And just a year later, she met my Grampa. My Grams was able to learn some Greek. But together with my Grampa, she learned the language relatively quickly and so they fell in love with each other. After spending over a year in Greece, my Grama decided to marry my Grandpa. He asked her and she was also pregnant. Her parents agreed, as long as my Grams had someone to take care of her. My Grandma's family didn’t have much money. My great-grandmother had lost an arm while working in a factory. That’s why she couldn’t work anymore.

Anyway, my Grandma was happy in Greece with my Grandpa .They lived in my Grampa's house which belonged to his Parents, who also lived there. My Grama and Grampa wanted to save money together to move out, so they both worked a lot. Even though my Grandma was pregnant, she worked 12 hours a day. She wanted to, and she felt good, so she just kept going. But when my Grams was 8 months pregnant, she suddenly got contractions during her shift at the hotel. She had to go to the hospital immediately! Something seemed to be wrong. She was bleeding. At the hospital, my Grandma found out she was having twins!!! She didn't know! No idea how her gynecologist could miss this, but my Grama told me that she was not often at the doctor at that time. She only had an ultrasound once! She didn’t take this so seriously. She was only 18! And her doc just said, she is young and strong, so it's all gonna be fine. However,my Grandma lost a lot of blood during delivery. She almost didn’t survive, she became unconscious, she said. She doesn’t remember what happened? She only knew, she was in a beautiful place, while the Doc's struggled to save her life. Everything felt so peaceful and wonderful. She wanted to stay there. She walked through a green meadow where two small kids suddenly ran towards her. She immediately hugged and kissed them. The three of them had a wonderful time on this beautiful meadow. They laughed, danced and played. My Grams was so happy. She didn’t want to leave this place. But after a while, the two Babies had to say goodbye to her. They told her, she had to go back home. My grandma didn’t want to, she asked, if she could stay there?... The Babies hugged her one last time, telling her not to worry about them. One day, they’ll see each other again, right here.

Then my Grama woke up and found herself in a bed in the hospital. She knew, her Babies didn’t survive 😟😢 ...... She told me, that she was not immediately sad as she woke up. She was rather disappointed, because she had to leave that beautiful meadow. A few days later my grandmother was back home. At home, she realized what had actually happened. She lost her Babies. 😔

And this dress I found, my Grandma loved when she was pregnant. Seeing me in that dress scared her, because I was pregnant too. She didn’t want to tell me, not scare me. And secondly, she knew that when I learned that she had twins, it would only make me more insecure. My pregnancy was unplanned, what if I have twins too?? So yes, it actually worried me.

Me: Was Grandpa nice to you? I mean, was he good to you? 😟

Grams: Yeah, he took care of me. Don’t worry about me, it’s been over 40 years.... In summary, I can say.... yes, your Grampa was a good man. It wasn't allways easy with him. You know how much he loves his beer. But thanks to me, your grandpa is not a drinker! No matter how long he was out at night with his 2 brothers and buddies. Every morning, I kicked him out of bed to go to work. But when it came to you kids, I could always rely on him... I know you’re still sad about Daniel. I heard you and Nico talking, but ask yourself a question, A.! How will it be in a few months? How do you imagine your future, not your present!! Now everything may seem uncertain and you are sad. You miss & love him. And if you weren’t pregnant, I’d advise you to wait and see about your marriage. Fact is, you don’t know why Daniel decided to leave? Maybe he didn’t see another way? Daniel is a calm, introverted guy. I think he kept a lot of things that bothered him to himself. In addition, he has never learned otherwise. He never really had anyone to... take care of him. Now it’s too late what his parents are trying to make up for. He doesn’t trust them, he generally has difficulty opening up. I think that’s why he couldn’t talk to you. I just want you to understand, that it wasn’t your fault. You can't fix in those few months you were with him, what went wrong for him in the past. And now that you’re pregnant, I doubt you and Daniel have a chance anyway. This will make it all the harder for him, to trust you. That's how things are rn. This is your current situation and you have to decide how you want to continue. Of course, I can’t tell you what to expect with Nico. But one thing I think, I can tell you! No man, no matter how much he loves you, will love your child as much as his Dad does. Daniel would probably try, and if he makes an effort, maybe he’ll be a good Dad for your Baby. But it’s Nico’s Baby. I know you had your struggles with him. But I talked to him last night. And in my opinion, you can rely on him. He’ll give you everything and he loves you. But most importantly, Nico doesn’t do drugs, bella. I know you don't wanna hear that, but this one important detail, is actually enough, to make the right decision, for you and your Baby.

Me: Why do you think I didn’t decide? I'm so happy with N. rn. I really want this with us! But..... yes! I'm still very sad about Daniel. I’m afraid to divorce him. I don’t wanna hurt him. I wish I could turn back the time to stop him, then we’d still be together and everything would be ok. 😢I always feel like I’ve done something wrong, Nico and I, it feels like cheating.... You believe in God. Do you think someone wants to punish me for all I’ve done wrong? I don’t want my Baby to pay for my mistakes.

Grams: God does not punish, he forgives! That’s what it’s all about! Forgiveness. You have to forgive yourself, A.! But you did nothing wrong, honey. You were sad, felt abandoned, alone & broken. And Nico was there. You might think, he was there at the right moment. Where would you be now, if Nico hadn’t come back to your life? You can be honest A.! I’m not gonna be mad, no matter what your answer is.

Me: I-....I’d probably be high with Dennis somewhere.

Grams: Who's Dennis?

Me: I met him at Ana's dorm.... We did drugs together. I even almost slept with him, even though I only met him a few hours before that. 😢 I didn't care about anything. I just wanted to feel numb.🤦‍♀️

Grams: Come here.... You'll be fine. I'm gonna take care of you and your Baby. You're not alone... I'm there.

Me: Yea...... thanks... I'm going over to N.

Grams: Don’t tell Nico what you just told me. He doesn't need to know that.... You two have to get along with each other now and not fight. I think N is the guy for you. I'm pretty sure. And don’t forget what I said, think about the future, not the past. Tomorrow morning, I’ll remove all your wedding photos, you do the same thing in your room. That's rude to N. He didn’t do anything wrong, he was only there for you and I’m glad he’s back with you. He also seems much calmer than he used to. He wants to do it right, this time. He told me. So go to him now.

Me: So sorry about your Babies. I won't keep that dress. 😭

Grams: Oh, honey. It's ok. Please don’t think about my twins anymore. It's.... all fine. Afte all, just 2 years later, I got my boys and so you, your sister and M. That’s more than I ever dreamed of.

Agh, this was a lot! Sorry. But everything that has now been mentioned in the conversation between my Grama & me, will become a topic soon.

Previous/Next

[mega-punani]

You just dropped a ton of really interesting AUs and my lil ol' heart can't take it!! Please tell us more? OwO Maybe how the Mafia skellies in the one where you saved goopy old man gaster first react to meeting y/n?

AWWWW YEAHHHH. I kinda got a rough idea of what meeting everyone would look like?

First contact(?):

You had just saved this goopy man from being turned into road kill, and now, you are sitting in his giant mansion. As one does, of course.

You could feel your hands tremble slightly as you picked up the expensive tea cup. Sitting across from you is the same old gentleman that you have so graciously saved, sipping on the tea as relaxed as he could be.

It's not that you regret saving him. It's just that you regret talking to him afterward. He had invited you to his home, offering to make you a meal, and you, thinking he was some wholesome grandpa, followed along happily. And now, you were in the home of the infamous Don Gaster.

You could feel your lifespan get shorter as his sons start walking into the room and seating themselves across from you...

Sans: "Who's da kid?"

Sans being the information man that he is, knows you perfectly well. (Y/N)(L/N), the waiter at the diner that's always runnin around taking orders in his side of Ebott city. You are always seen with disheveled hair and a stained apron tiredly walking to and from work. He had seen you around a couple of times, even thought of hiring you as an informant, but,,, he wouldn't want a cute doll like you to get tussle.

Papyrus: "POOR HUMAN! FATHER LEAVE THE THEM OUT OF THIS MESS."

Papyrus has a very strict "no bystanders policy." If you are innocent, in the wrong place in the wrong time, or just pulled in by his brothers, Papyrus will not hurt you. In this case, a poor human has done them an immense favor by saving their father. And instead of just giving you some money and sending you on your way, Gaster is practically keeping you hostage! All he could feel is pity for the cute, little human.

Blue: "MWEH HEH! WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?"

Blue is excited as high hell. A competition with his brothers? There was no way he was going to miss that. But of course, it all comes to halt when his father mentions them becoming a spouse. HWAT? HE'S NOT PREPARED TO GET MARRIED! THAT THOUGHT HADN'T EVEN ENTERED HIS SKULL!? But now that he took a good look at them, they were awfully charming. He wouldn't mind seeing them more often, of course, only if they would let him.

Stretch: "Heh, this is goin ta be a mess..."

Stretch can already foresee some future problems. Not only were his brothers incredibly competitive for the head honcho seat, now there's a terrified human in the mix. And buddy, Stretch did not like humans. There were so many of those racist fucks crawling around the city and he had seen way to many hate crimes taking a simple walk. But... you seemed alright.

Red: “Awwwww, lil’ sweethearts terrified!”

Red is having the time of his life. There was no way that his old man was giving up his entire legacy for some human. Right? When it finally sets in, he begins to take it a bit more seriously. No worries at all! He can totally woo this lil thang, no problem! He'll be your big, bad, prince charming.

Edge: "WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS THIS!?"

Edge has lived his life with professionalism. This was a whole new territory for him, and he did not like a single second of it. Sure, you're his type and sure, he would treat you like royalty if you were his spouse. BUT YOU WEREN'T! In fact, you were standing in his way...

Cinnamon: "Oh dear..."

Cinnamon has run into you before. You were coming out of work, he had assumed as you were quite a mess. You were extremely tired, so tired that you didn't even see him when. After crashing into him, you profusely apologized and handed him his cane, unfazed by his rather fearsome appearance. He liked that polite smile you gave him then rather than that fearful look you have now.

Bear: "..."

Bear remembered faintly. You were the one his brother was (secretly) excited about. You didn't look all that impressive... You did look quite cute. He wondered what your reaction to him would be.

[uwu-co-in]

The Planet of Pandora

Synopsis: Armin Arlert was probably the best xenobiologist of his time. Going to Pandora was his sole dream and he could not have achieved it if he wasn't the best. And yet, when he finds himself over the writhing in longing for a alien woman light years away from home, he can't but help himself in indulging in this pleasure. It's like studying a new species, only more intimately.

Xenobiologist Armin Arlert x Na'vi Reader (Avatar 2009 movie AU)

Contents/warnings: porn with plot, Avatar movie AU, xenophilia, fictitious sexual rituals, use of psychedelics/drugs, foreplay, sexual intercourse

Word count: 2.6k

~ AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ~

"That's Pandora? Oh, woah," Armin gazes at the planet with eyes wide. It looks just like the Earth, except a lot greener, with even vivid blues. Even though Jake Sully, the Toruk Macto, has allowed missions from the Earth only for research purposes, people back on the planet were insistent on sending a handful of militia. Help from Pandora had helped regain a lot of lost resources on Earth, and Armin thinks it's only right that Earth stops sending any soldiers at all, in the first place, to foster trust.

"I already miss my mashed potatoes and steak," his fellow xenoscientist, Dr. Braus exclaims, and he chuckles lightly along with his colleagues. He does not miss Earth one bit. There is no one to return to. He looks at the new planet, the one named Pandora by the scientists. The Planet of Death. A genuine smile stretches upon his lips, slightly dimpling his cheeks. As far as he could remember, Pandora was always his home.

"Grandpa, tell me all about Pandora!" a four-year-old Armin sat on his grandfather's knees, looking at him with his bright blue eyes, barely keeping still in excitement. "Oh Armin, you've heard these at least fifty times. Are you sure you don't want to hear about any other? Do you know that scientists have found yet another planet? It's being called Solaris, wouldn't you want to know about it?" But young Armin had no interest in Solaris or its materialisation mechanics of mental images; he had set his eyes on Pandora. He shook his head in disagreement, lips in a drawn pout to hear about the Planet of Death. "One day, if you try and become the best xenoscientist, you can certainly visit Pandora." That's the last of what Armin remembers of his Grandpa.

"Ahh Dr. Zoë, can we talk?" Armin halts the leader of their xenoscientist team as soon as they land. "Are we supposed to initiate contact with the Na'vis? Because as far as the research is concerned, I'll try to do my best-" He stops as they place a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "I know you are excited, Dr. Arlert, but we must have some patience. Meeting Jake Sully is our first priority. We are all scientists here, but we can only do what he allows us to," her eyes flit to the others in cargo uniform, "well, most of us would definitely follow his orders. We just need to make sure that our intentions of research, and only research, convey clearly to them, and he'll help us."

"I feel jittery," Dr. Braus sways in her Na'vi body, as Dr. Hoover chuckles at her. "I hate this tail," Dr. Ackerman mutters. "This is the first time Dr. Ackerman is of the same height as us," Dr. Braus whispers to Armin, and both of them burst into a round of giggles, as Dr. Ackerman sighs again in disapproval, all of them prepping to start their journey onto the Mount Horeb, named after the one back at Earth. Armin gets a feel of his body, touching his neck and upper chest, mind adjusting well, and sighs in relief. Was it too bad that he felt more at ease here, in Pandora, than he ever felt on Earth?

"Dr. Zoë, we are more than happy to host scientists. You sure do remind me a lot of Grace," Jake Sully sighs in a longing nostalgia, not too displeased at their presence. "Thank you, Jake. We promise to not let you down," Dr. Zoë bows their head in respect. "In fact, can we start from tomorrow evening? Isn't there a ritual of sorts?" she inquires, and Armin looks at Jake, a tingly feeling wiggling at the back of his mind. What will a proper Na'vi ritual look like? Jake glances at Neytiri who nods back subtly. "That's alright with us," Jake bites the inside of his cheeks, clearly giving it a second thought. "Just try to maintain a respectable distance. These rituals tend to be very instinctive," he pauses for a while, before continuing. "We can do nothing if one of you gets involved by Ewya's grace."

"Armin, you're in charge of tabulating as well," Mikasa hands him a notepad. "Is this distance far enough? I don't know," she frets over the camera, clicking it daintily with the large avatar fingers. "It's going to be alright, Mikasa. Moreover, if it's a ritual, I need to be at least this close to them to study and make out what they're saying," Armin frowns a bit. This is his first time working, and he can't miss any of it. "Well then, suit yourself up. Holler if you need any help, yes? All the best," and Mikasa walks off.

Armin looks at the throng of Na'vi people, young men, and women, gathered in front of the bonfire. That's much more than I expected, Armin thinks to himself. His eyes lock with one Na'vi woman in particular; unlike others her hair was open, reaching lower than her waist, and a bunch of blood-red flowers were tucked underneath her left ear. She's beautiful, Armin thinks, his eyes moving to her throat, gulping in fear and anticipation. He shakes himself out of the stupor, watching her apply the white fluid over her eyes, dragging her fingers to the tip of her nose, and he writes it all down. He will check for the contents of the fluid later, once the ritual ends. He sees the blue bodies sliding arms over each other, noses smelling each others' throats, and feeling each other up. One even musters to dip his fingers underneath the hay skirt that the other has worn, and she moans back in pleasure. Wait, what? He looks over to his colleagues and they share the same panicked look. It is a mating ritual.

A minute and he can't see the woman with the blood-red flowers anymore amongst the writhing of the bodies. He jots down his observations quickly. It's probably the pheromones, he concludes. They're just following the chemical pointers, and all eyes seem closed. He bends to write when he's overshadowed. As he looks up, it's her. Her palms slide over his, snatching this notepad and placing it somewhere, her eyes still shut. Armin almost wants to speak up, but then he remembers what Jake told them yesterday.

"Please, don't speak a word when the ritual takes place. It might be that someone from the group has broken off and has wandered to you all, even if you are stationed far enough. They will probably leave in a few minutes to their designated area. Do not, under any circumstance, speak to them. It makes them stick to the stupor, making it difficult to revive them," Jake had given a fair warning.

But the woman does not turn away. Instead, her hands slide up his chest, underneath his t-shirt as she sniffs his neck, nimble fingers starting to tangle in his hair. Armin places his hands on her shoulder in a weak attempt to push her off. Her naked vulva drags over his pants, her back arching, and all protests that Armin had dies in the back of his throat. A low moan escapes his parted lips, and the woman smirks over his neck, clearly satisfied at his reaction. "Ngenga tirea syaw menari nekx kame nga," she mutters, as she gives a long lick from his throat to the back of his ear. Armin registers the meaning of the words in his aroused state. Your spirit guides me as my eyes burn to see you. He's mated to her.

"We've never had one of our women mate with a uniltìranyu, a dreamwalker, before. This is outrageous!" Neytiri screams, at the meeting. The woman is still on Armin's side, her hands holding Armin's arm as she shudders at Neytiri's words. Armin feels bad for her, as he sidles his palm on her jaw to comfort her. This action seems to surprise his colleagues and enrage Neytiri even more. "Why you-" Neytiri had almost bared her teeth, as Jake intercepts. "Dr. Arlert." Armin looks at Jake, partly with fear. "You must know that you can still reject her advance," Jake tells him, and the woman's face seems to fall even more. Based on traditions, it is likely that she will be ostracized from the community, or something, Armin gave a quick thought. Or worse, what if she kills herself? It is a rare but practiced occurrence that the unmated person ends their life, serving Ewya from now on. "We will not hold it against you, we promise," Jake reassures him. "Now, do you want Yawne as your mate?" Armin thinks it over and looks at her face. Damn the consequences.

"I do."

"I know English," are the first words that Yawne tells Armin. Seated underneath a canopy of trees, away from other eyes, the small corner is lit with bioluminescent plants in warm colours as her large green eyes flit over to his face. She is not as feisty or explorative as she had been during the mating ritual, but her eyes roam all over Armin, drinking him in without shame. Armin feels hot in his ears; he has had his share of sex back on Earth but this feels so much different. Yawne is different. "You know, I know Na'avi too, right?" Armin whispers to her, his hand grabbing hers and giving them a squeeze. "So, what do we do?" he asks her. Her eyes move to the two capsule-like things kept on a stand. "We eat those, bond with our tsahelyu, and make love," she gulps again. "Let's do it then," Armin hands her one of the capsules and places the other on his tongue. He chews it tentatively, the sweet juice filling his mouth, as his head starts buzzing good-naturedly. Yawne smiles at Armin, and sitting down, closes his eyes with her palm, before bringing their braids together for establishing the tsahelyu.

Desire courses through his veins as the nerve endings join together, and in his mind, he sees a thousands scenes flashing up. Of the forests of Pandora, of the life that flows and connects all, the devotion for Eywa. Light bursts underneath his eyes as he sees the Sacred Grove, with all the seeds, floating amidst the night of pinks and purples and blues. And he sees Yawne, her growing up, as a child, learning to fly the ikran, watching the magic of Pandora through her eyes. He feels her feras, anxiety, happiness, desires and love. Her heart feels like it had been waiting all her life. To love him.

Armin opens his eyes and finds her looking at him in wonder and curiosity. She has seen Earth, she must have had questions. "So you have light hair? And blue eyes?" she looks at him, eyes wide. She reminds him of the first time he had heard about Pandora from his grandfather. "Yes, I do. I'm also much shorter," Armin chuckles, as he picks her up, placing her on his lap. He could feel the heat from between her legs. She traces his lips with her index finger as if studying everything about him. "And you have a nice name. Armin," as if trying to spell the unknown name into a familiarity. "Armin," she says again before pressing a light kiss on the corner of his lips. "Give me a name. One from back in Earth, that would suit me," she looks at him, as he stares back in complete adoration.

"Y/N."

Armin doesn't remember who moves first, but they are kissing each other, as if it was their last day together, Y/N on top of him. He plucks the flowers from her hair, keeping it aside, as he drags his kisses to her jaw, her mouth producing the most beautiful moans he has ever heard. Her hands pull his hair and scratch his back, while his slide down her back, coming in contact with the wetness. His fingers dip in, conjuring a delicious cry from her. She moves her mouth to kiss him, as his other hand tweaks her nipples, leading her to lightly bite his lower lip. The joy he feels from watching her arch her back because of his ministrations is absolutely euphoric.

"Armin..." his name falls from her lips like a prayer as he puts her down and kisses his way to the core. "Tell me more about Earth, please?" she moans, still ever so curious. "Yes, my Y/N, I'll tell you," Armin whimpers back, making her sit in front of him, fingers still rubbing her wet folds, and his lips kissing behind her ears. "The Earth used to be so beautiful," he kisses her neck while stroking her. "But I never belonged there. I felt incomplete. Do you know why?" Armin coerces her to lie down as he rubs the tip of his member, collecting the arousal. "I was always waiting to love you," he whispers against her cheek, as she cries out in ecstasy.

Armin could feel her pleasure, all because of the tsahelyu, feel her delicious burn, and he was sure she could feel how warm and tight she felt on his member. Y/N turns to look at him, her big green eyes glistening in pleasure, as she mumbles, "Armin, I have only ever wanted you." Her hands slid over to his jaw, holding his face as his member filled her insides with its girth. She could feel the tip brushing roughly against her spot and arched her back in extreme pleasure as he pinched and played with her pebbled nipples. He moves down to kiss her lips, tongues eagerly sliding over each other, and sucking. She tastes so sweet, like nectar, he thinks, and a feeling of protection overtakes him. Mine.

He turns to put her underneath him, and she jolts as he starts going even more roughly. She locks her legs on his waist, allowing his member to slide even further in, and cries out in delicious pleasure. "Please, please don't stop. Please," she is almost on the verge of begging, as Armin kisses her lips once more, not breaking the rhythm, whispering, "Never." He could feel her tightening and knew that she was near. He keeps going in the same rhythm, fingers finding her clit to rub it to please her even more. Her eyes widen as she feels him twitch inside, and she holds him even closer. His member is ramming inside her now and with every stroke, she keeps moaning loudly, a sign for Armin to not stop. "Together?" Armin mumbles, grunting at the feeling of release threatening to spill. "Ye-yes," Y/N mumbles back, and Armin stops withholding. The wetness spills from her and covers his member, as he thrusts and bursts his, coating her walls white. He tries to keep going but white light flashes in his eyes, and the last thing he remembers is tasting her lips and holding Y/N close, as he blacks out.

"Armin?" Y/N's meek voice is the first thing Armin hears when he wakes up. She had tidied herself up, and placed the flowers underneath her ears, hair all open, flowing over the makeshift bed. "Y/N..." he holds her close and kisses her mouth, as if he had been doing it ever since he can remember. His fingers find her nipple, and he plays with it, pulling it lightly, as she lets out a whimper. Oh God, how he loves to hear that. Her hand finds his member, slowly rubbing her thumb on his tip. "What happens to us now?" Y/N mumbles, her big green eyes slightly misty. Afraid. "Whatever be it," Armin holds her by her neck, bringing her closer and kissing her forehead. "I am never leaving you. You make me complete."

This was a collab with @thegetoufather in her 'Into the Movie Verse' series about a year (or so ago), which I, in my terribly late fashion, decided to complete a few days ago. Apologies 😔

[mrsmess]

falafel

the way you were just there at that hole in the wall when you shouldn’t even have been there at all and neither should I, but there I was just because my kid got out early and it was a toss between going home or staying in town we rarely get out, we should hang around let’s go get a falafel it’s the only city in the country where you can get a decent one for reasonable money it’s easily done so we gotta get a falafel and sit outside in the setting sun it’s not a big city on a international scale and I’m bad at math it's the one class I failed but there are three hundred thousand people living here and that’s a lot or at least enough so the chance of running into someone you know is not that high or even there but you were there and so was I I was stunned even when you said my name before you told me chance is why you came

a motorcycle thundered by you said I hate that and I said why are you sitting by a heavily trafficked street in a city where you don’t even stay and told my kid of the place where you live it’s real pretty but real far away I went to visit you there when I was nineteen and in a relationship with a boy who was mean and who tagged along and sulked the whole time but your wife was really kind to me and you don’t appreciate that when you’re young and blind you spoke to my kid in that way of yours you’re really good with them which is of course obvious that you’d be when you work as much as you do with them we ate our falafel, spilled food everywhere and loud, obnoxious music filled up the air you told my kid about your girls who where in a big contest the other year my kid said I don’t remember them I always root for the old, bald men I smiled and told you you should enter the contest then but you already did back when I was a kid and you sang that cheesy song with your awful ex wife you were on television but out of my life

next thing I know we’re in your car, you say you have to drive me home and I let you because that’s what we are to each other even if it’s been years since I met you you say you’ve thought about me and I say I think about you all the time too but leave out all my mixed feelings because we’re in a car and driving fast and I already know the moment won’t last we won’t have time enough to discuss the important stuff when are we supposed to? you ask about mom and I say she’s good even if she’s waiting for surgery for some reason at sixty miles per hour I commit perjury I remember when you left and how she cried even if she said she didn’t love you right I talk about my dad, and you say who is your dad again? it’s a joke because my dad is no more a father to me than other men my grandpa for example tried to fill his shoes and you at one point though that was a game you could only lose but you don’t mention yourself in this equation even if you were part of the situation and maybe neither of you were to blame but in this one crucial way you’re all the same Grandpa was too old, you were too young and my daddy was simply too far gone all of you went away for too long

my kid talks in the backseat and I try to divide my attention and give you direction at one point you almost miss an exit and say something sarcastic about my instruction in an infuriatingly ironic tone of voice when neither then nor now gave me a choice I did not ask to be put in this seat and for a beat I’m convinced that you have some feelings to work through regarding me and my mom, some residue and also that I would be willing to do that with you if you would only ask me to but you won’t and I don’t expect you to come in when we’re parked and I invite you to come through as expected you say no and that it’s time to go and maybe you don’t care or you do but don’t think it’s fair to share because to you I’m still four and either way you stack the years you’ll always have seventeen more when we met we were really just two kids at different ages now we’re adults at different grieving stages

I get out of the car, say thanks for the ride and give my love to your spouse and I take my kid’s hand and head for our house I want to say I love you and hate you and why did you abandon me? instead I swallow the sting and cling to common sense laugh about the crazy coincidence like that and destiny isn’t the same thing

[nhstadler]

A/N: Hey all, here’s a tiny little James POV holiday snippet to say thank you for all the lovely reviews and likes. I didn’t want to post it at first because nothing really happens, but maybe some of you enjoy it nonetheless. I hope you’re all well and made it through the festive season unscathed :). Thanks for your support and love and general brilliance. 

‘T I S   T H E   S E A S O N

I almost kissed her.

Shit.

I want to groan and bury my head in my hands, but I can’t, of course. Not with my entire family racketing around the table like they have all gone batshit and Celestina Warbeck crooning about cauldrons full of hot, strong love.

“We danced to this when we were young, Arthur. Do you remember?” Grandma says, like she does every year, and the smile she gives Grandpa, who is half-falling asleep at the table, also like every year, makes me want to hug both of them.

The kitchen in the Burrow is crammed. More than usual. The unshapely dining table is really just a collection of half a dozen haphazardly arranged smaller tables, covered with an oversized tablecloth, and I can feel an odd table leg digging into my shin. 

It used to be bigger - it felt bigger. Now, I’m wedged in between Freddie and Teddy and, even though we all sit with our shoulders slightly hunched and our arms pressed to our sides, we can barely move without shoving each other.

I almost kissed her. 

On the cold grounds in the snow with my heart slipping as it struggled to keep in time.

“Oi, Herbie!” 

I snap my head up to see a black shape barrel across the table, recklessly knocking over glasses and candles before it leaps straight onto my lap.

Lilly’s arshole cat who hates everyone but me is nuzzling his fluffy head into my stomach, giving absolutely no shits about having just caused a minor fire in his wake. Uncle Ron puts it out with an overambitious Aguamenti charm that floods half the table, earning himself a round of applause from Dad and Uncle George while Aunt Hermionie is busy minimising the damage. 

Celestina’s voice is still howling from Grandma’s ancient radio, the music seeping into the general din of conversations and laughter that fill the kitchen. But I know all the words by heart. I could sing You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me with an entire bottle of firewhiskey in my system and not miss a line.

I almost kissed her. 

I wanted to.

She was waiting for me in the hospital wing - in Hagrid’s awful plaid blanket and the too large wellies - and I let her go. Because I’m a fucking coward. 

Gryffindor my arse. 

“So, James.” Rose leans over Teddy, tucking her auburn hair behind her ears like she means business. “I’ve heard some wild things about you at Beaux.”

“You did?” I arch an eyebrow at her as Herbie curls up in my lap, his little paws playing with the hem of my jumper. It’s maroon, with a slightly wonky J across the front, and it matches my equally chunky socks. Grandma went all out this year. 

“Yeah, are you actually failing Potions?” 

I snort and shake my head because, of course, of all the rumours that could have reached her across the English Channel, Rose, the wonderful creature, is concerned about my abysmal grades.

“I’m not,” I say, even though that’s not entirely true. “Who the fuck told you that?”

“Don’t worry, Rosie.” Freddie digs his shoulder into my side as he leans in, looking entirely too happy with himself. “He’s got a brilliant tutor, don’t you Jamie?” He slaps my back and I want to kill him; just a little bit.

“Yeah.” I sigh and my mind slips back to that one moment when I realised just how fucked I really am; when I asked Seth about Potions and she told me about having to earn the magic and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. “I do.”

[after-witch]

Bright Lights (Small Spaces Quartet Sequel) (Chapter 2)

Title: Bright Lights (Chapter 2) A03 LINK

Synopsis: Sam tells her friends about her mom's refusal to sign the permission slip for the circus, and they have a plan.

Word count: appx 1700

“You’ve never been to a circus? Like, never never?”

Owen Sannerson’s eyebrows raised in scrupulous disbelief. He had moved to Evansburg two years ago, and while Sam and Elisa considered him a best friend by now, he still had a hard time accepting that Samantha Adler simply didn’t do what most teens her age did.

Sam shrugged. She wanted to change the subject. She also wanted to finish her sandwich before the cheese got all cold and gloppy, and maybe work on her poems one more time before English class. Anything to forget about the permission slip and poster handout that Elisa had slapped in the center of the table at the start of lunch period, eager to find out exactly what had happened with Sam’s mom.

“Nope. Too much like a carnival, I guess, and my mom hates those.” Sam made a sour face. She didn’t really like talking all the things she couldn’t do, especially after this morning’s latest rejection. If she piled all the cool field trips or friend hang-outs she had to stay back from on top of one another, it might just reach the top of a skyscraper.

“She hates farms, too,” Elisa chimed in, popping a lukewarm fry into her mouth. “And ski lodges, unless it’s the Battersby’s place.”

Sam sighed and took another bite of her sandwich. Blech. Too late. The cheese was gloppy. Yet another reason to ask grandpa to teach her his recipes, so she didn’t have to put up with school lunch.

Elisa curled a bit of her shoulder-length dark hair around a finger. She was wearing her in-school hockey jersey and cozy sweatpants. The team had a game next week and Elisa never missed a chance to get hyped, especially now that she was taking lessons from Sam’s uncle Brian. He ran a sports camp in the next town over and offered lessons in just about any sport imaginable; even games like chess, although those classes were taught by his wife Coco.

Elisa tapped the unsigned permission slip with her short fingernail.

“Do you remember when she flipped out when we were supposed to go to the re-opening day of Misty Valley Farm, or whatever they renamed it?”

Sam wished she could forget. That was back in 6th grade. Sam wasn’t allowed to go to the farm with the rest of her class, but she’d cried so pitifully to her teacher Mrs. Norris that the sweet lady had called Sam’s mom on the spot to ask permission as the buses were being loaded.

That had ended with Olivia Adler peeling up to the school in her car about 15 minutes later and taking Sam home for the day while a bewildered Mrs. Norris and snickering classmates had watched.

The car ride home had been quiet, save for Sam’s occasional sniffles. At a stoplight, her mom had turned to her, and opened her mouth as if she wanted to explain something… but she only closed it again and drove them home without another word.

It was always like that, like there was something her mom really wanted to tell her that would explain away everything; but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It made Sam mad. More than that, it was frustrating. Couldn’t her mom see that she was old enough to take care of herself? Couldn’t her mom see that she didn’t need to be coddled all the time?

Although a small part of her wanted to defend her mom. There was clearly something going on that made her act this way, when she was otherwise pretty rational, as far as parents went. The divorce probably didn’t help things. And grandpa being sick didn’t help things. That’s why they had to move back to the Egg in the first place.

Sam sighed and shoved her lunch tray to the side, suddenly not feeling very hungry. “It’s shitty. But what can I do? I guess I’ll be 18 before I see a circus or go to a farm.” She snorted through her nose at the thought of scampering up to farm animals or picking pumpkins for the first time after graduating high school.

Elisa was uncharacteristically quiet. This usually meant that she was coming up with a plan or a scheme--with Elisa, plans and schemes tended to amount to the same thing.

“Elisa,” she said slowly, carefully.

Elisa looked at Owen, who held her gaze before suddenly becoming very interested in his lap.

“What?” said Sam, half-worried, half-excited. 

Elisa’s chair screeched as she scooted closer to Sam, before gesturing for Owen to do the same. He tucked a stray piece of his chin length blonde hair behind his ear and copied Elisa, until the three of them were close enough to whisper.

“So, me and Owen have been talking,” Elisa began, pulling the permission slip from the center of the table until it was right in front of Sam. “And here’s the plan. You forge your mom’s signature. Go on the trip. Have some fun for once in your life.” She tapped the paper decisively. “Your mom never has to find out. Perfect plan, right?”

Was it possible for your stomach to drop out from underneath you? Sam thought it might be possible, because that’s what her stomach was currently doing, gloppy cheese and all.

“I can’t.” Her words were stiff. “My mom would know. Or she’d find out. I’d be in trouble.” A half-laugh forced its way out of Sam’s throat. “No, I’d be grounded for the rest of my life and even after that. She’d ground my ghost.”

Elisa began to twirl the paper on the table with her finger. “Not if you pretend to be super upset about not going before and after the trip and she never finds out you went…”

“I’m not that good an actor,” Sam mumbled.

“I can give you tips!” Owen said suddenly, sitting up a little straighter. “I’ve only done tech here but I’m really into acting.”

Sam sighed. Then put both hands on her cheeks and shut her eyes and groaned. The idea was tempting. It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered it before. But the fear of her mom finding out always outweighed the desire to go through with it.

“C’mon, Sam.” Elisa picked up the circus poster handout that their teacher Mr. Wheeling had given them two weeks ago. “There hasn’t been a circus here since… I can’t even remember one coming to Evansburg.  You have to go.”

The poster was crinkled a little from being in Sam’s backpack, but at least it wasn’t torn. It was designed to look old-fashioned, which Sam supposed was “in” nowadays. There was an illustration featuring a cluster of tents, and a banner across the top that said: “MR. ELIM’S CIRCUS. ALL AGES WELCOME.”

At the bottom of the poster, there was a close-up illustration of a man in a ringmaster’s uniform gazing up at the tent and grinning. Something about him was a little unnerving, like his grin was too big or something. Sam wondered if her friends felt the same; but probably not, especially Elisa, who didn’t even flinch when they’d watched IT Chapter One and Two in Owen’s basement last Halloween. Sam, by contrast, had slept with her desk lamp on for a week.

Next to the ringmaster were a series of faded blue banners that described circus acts.

“FEROCIOUS BEASTS! SEE TIGERS TAMED!

FLYING TRAPEZE! DEATH-DEFYING HEIGHTS!

REAL LIVE FIRE BREATHERS! HOTTER THAN HADES!

ENDLESS SIGHTS THAT WILL ASTOUND AND AMAZE!

PERFORMANCES YOU WILL NEVER FORGET!”

They did sound amazing and astounding and wonderful.

And her mom would never, ever let her see them.

And even if Sam did try to forge her mom’s signature and go on the trip, who’s to say she wouldn’t find out somehow, anyway? Sam might pop in the background of someone’s video online or Mr. Wheeling would call Olivia to say how glad he was that Sam was going on a field trip for once.

Besides, Sam was too scared to forge her mom’s signature. Especially on something as serious--well, in the Adler household, it was serious--as this.

Sam felt a familiar tightness in her chest begin to grow and pushed back from her chair. Before Owen or Elisa could say anything, she grabbed both papers and shoved them deep into her backpack.

“Sam,” Owen said, and reached out to touch her on the arm. Owen was good at one-on-one talks like this, sort of like her grandpa. But she didn’t feel like being reassured right now. She just wanted to be mad at the unfairness of her life.

“My mom would find out,” Sam said shortly, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder. “Or I’d mess it up somehow and blab or copy her signature wrong or…” She sighed. “Sorry.”

Owen did touch Sam’s arm, then, and looked incredibly thoughtful.

“Why don’t you ask your mom again tonight? Like, sit her down and have a full-on discussion about it? Maybe you can find the website for this circus or whatever and show her that it’s not a big deal. It did say all ages, so it’s got to be mild enough for little kids.”

Sam shook her head, but didn’t outright say she wouldn’t do it. Owen was just giving her advice. She couldn’t be mad at him for that, even if it was something she’d tried to do on her own countless times over the years.

And maybe… maybe her mom would listen, if she took the time to explain. Her mom had been in a rush that morning, what with Sam running late. Her mom was always stressed in the morning, especially if her grandpa needed help during the night.

Was it worth a shot?

Sam nodded at Owen and tried to smile, but it wasn’t anything to write home about. “Maybe. Text me after school, guys. Or during 6th period, I’ll have my sound off. I gotta go to the bathroom before lunch ends.”

With that, Sam Adler walked away from her friends with thoughts of permission slips and serious discussions weaving heavily on her mind.

“Tell your mom, it’s just a circus!” Elisa called out after Sam, all 15 years of her life experience weighing behind each word. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

[usoppsasscheek]

I miss being a kid.

I miss the feeling of my pajamas hugging my skin and every imperfection on my body, but I never cared because it felt so good to feel the somewhat tight clothes against my skin.

I miss when I sat at the dinner table before my father pushed my chair in as far as I wanted to so I could feel the table right up against my chest.

I miss sprinting outside with my sister when we heard the ice-cream truck from our rooms, my grandpa following along so he could pay for us.

I miss when I used to cry and cling onto my grandfather when he tried to drop me off at school, because I never wanted to leave his side.

I miss when I could eat whatever I wanted without worrying about what I looked like or how many calories something had, I merely enjoyed it.

I miss dancing around and singing while my family laughed with me, filming me on their phones so they’d be able to look back on the memories.

I miss when I used to run to my dollhouse to play with my Barbies the second I got home from school, after thinking about playing with them all day.

I miss making funny videos with my father everyday, us making silly faces or dancing around.

I miss when me and my family would all sit together and have brunch with lots of food every Sunday, no matter what.

I miss how easy and simple everything was.

now I wear baggy pajamas to hide my disgusting, imperfect body that I hate and cry over oh so much.

now I push my own chair in at the dinner table, some days not eating at all.

now I ignore the sound of the ice-cream truck blaring through the windows, its music taunting me to cave in and restart my cycle of binge eating.

now I tell my grandfather goodbye and that I love him as he drops me off infront of my high school every morning.

now I check how many calories I eat in a day, and how much I let myself indulge in food.

now I stay inside of my room, trying to ignore the screams of my grandmother as she fights with my grandfather on a daily basis.

now I frown at the sight of my old, beaten up toys that do nothing but grow dust in a corner of my basement, only being touched every once in awhile when my cousins come over.

now I stare at my father as he yells at me for merely refusing to give him the television remote.

now I can’t remember the last time my family has sat down to eat together at the table, let alone have brunch.

I miss my childhood,

I miss being happy.

[thefangirlthatwaited]

Encounter (Chapter 126) - A Destiny 2 Story

Crow x Guardian

“Careful, Ruby.”

“I know, Crow. Please don’t baby me.” I moved to stand and almost fell over, not helping my argument. “You should be in bed.”

I huffed as Crow held me up. “I’m tired of being in bed.”

“It’s been four days, Ruby. Mara said you could feel weak for a week or more.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Mara is only trying to help.”

“If I wanted her help-” Crow glared, stopping me from saying anything more. “Can you just help me to the couch? I want to see my kids.”

“Will you let me carry you?”

“Deal.” 

Crow chuckled before scooping me up bridal style and bringing me to the couch. Once there, he brought me food and lay at my feet while I ate.

“How’s your head?” He asked after a bit.

“My ears are still ringing.”

Crow frowned. “You should have stayed in bed.”

“I’m not having this argument again.” Mostly because I didn’t have the energy. “Let me stay down here for a bit. I missed my kids, and they’ll worry if I’m stuck upstairs.”

“I could have brought them to see you.” I shook my head and instantly regretted it. The room spun, and I had to close my eyes to stop me from vomiting, “See.”

“Their toys are here, Crow. It makes sense for me to come and relax on the couch.”

“There’s no changing your mind.”

I pat his cheek, smiling. “Almost three years together, and you’re finally learning.”

Crow rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Yeah.” He stood and took my empty plate to clean. “If you’re ready, I’ll get Artemis to pick up the twins.”

“You won’t go get them?”

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Crow...”

“You want to be out of bed? Then I stay with you.”

I huffed out in frustration. “Fine.”

“All you have to do is sit back, relax and let your mind heal.”

“Relax, right.” I leaned back and closed my eyes as Crow puttered around the house, getting ready for the twin’s return. 

I hated the quiet; it was the reason I didn’t want to be alone in bed anymore. Everything was still a blur from the mission. I barely remember anything except for Mara and Crow standing above me when we made it back to the Farm. My head felt like it was being pulled in a thousand different directions, and only Mara’s magic and Crow’s voice anchored me. I woke up a day later, disoriented and confused. It took a full day for me to remember the bare minimum of the previous day. Even now, I can’t remember large parts of the mission.

“Knock knock. Is anyone home?” I opened my eyes as Crow opened the door for Artemis. Two blurs ran towards me, jumping onto my lap. “Mommy!” The twins said together. 

“My babies. I’ve missed you.” I kissed them on the head as they cuddled into my chest. “Did you have a good time with Grandpa Saint and Osiris?”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

I pinched Rory’s cheek, and she giggled. “Good.” 

Crow walked over and scooped the children from me. “I know you’ve missed Mommy, but she needs to rest. So no climbing on her, okay?” 

The twins and I all frowned. “Crow-”

“Mommy sick?” Rory asked.

“Not sick, just tired,” I explained. 

“Mommy need nap?” Ari asked.

“Mommy will go for a nap, but I wanted to see you first.”

Ari and Rory smiled, wiggling out of Crow’s hold and rushed to their toys. It was nice to have the four of us together, enjoying a peaceful day as a family. The only thing that would make it better would be for Crow to stop watching me. I knew what was going on in his mind without using my magic to read it. He was worried about me. Last time I’d used this much power, I killed him. What I wished he’d understand is that I was stronger now. Sure my mind was clouded from the mission but I was still in control.

The afternoon faded into evening, and Crow finally let up and went to make dinner as I sat and watched the twins. My eyes caught the gems they wore around their neck to protect them from powers they were too young to control. A gem that I once wore before I shattered it with the same powers. 

I raised my hand to my neck where my necklace once sat, and my vision began to blur. I tried to blink it away, not wanting to end my peaceful evening. When that didn’t work, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple to calm the storm that was brewing.

“Mommy, look!” I opened my eyes to a squint as Rory waved her toy Ghost in front of me. 

“Your Ghost?”

“Make it fly Mommy?”

“Not today, sweetheart.”

She pursed her lips into a pout. “Awww. Fly! Fly!”

I closed my eyes as she continued to chant, causing my headache to worsen. “Rory, no.”

“FLY FLY!”

I screwed my eyes tightly, trying to block her tantrum. “Rory,” I groaned.

Crow sighed. “Rory, what did I say? Mommy needs to rest.”

“I want Ghost to fly!” She screamed, and that was it; I couldn’t stay down here any longer. The pressure in my head was hitting a new level. I stood, my legs shaking and started to walk towards the stairs. 

“Ruby are you okay?” Crow asked.

“Yeah. I just need to lay down.” I assured him.

“Let me help you.”

“N-No. I’m fine. Finish dinner for the twins. I can get myself back to bed.” Slowly, I made my way up the stairs and into my bed. The moment I crashed down onto my pillow, a wave of psychic energy surged from me, causing items in the room to levitate. I didn’t even realize what was going on; the only thing I noticed was the pressure from my headache was gone, and I could finally sleep.

In my dream, I was floating in space, surrounded by pure silence, something I didn’t realize I was craving. No more kids screaming their heads off. No more Vanguard duties and no more pain or sorrow. Just silence. But with the silence was the lack of warmth: Crow’s hugs, the twin’s giggles and my friend’s laughter. Silence could give me peace, but it wouldn’t bring me happiness.

Full Chapter on Ao3

[chasing-chimeras]

it’ll be okay bestie. fuck that prof honestly he’s probably already forgotten ab you being late bc i imagine he’s got lots to do and remember and this is def something small to him, so why should it be big to you! if it makes you feel any better i was late to my grandpa’s funeral bc i pregamed it w my sister (btw i’m not 21) and we had to call our cousin to pick us up bc obvi we couldn’t drive and mind you he was already at the funeral home so that was a 40+ minute round trip for him and i was one of two people doing a eulogy that day. also during my eulogy i threatened god and everyone i talked to after said the priest sitting behind me gave me a dirty look and iced me out for the rest of the funeral AND to make it worse at mass the next day he tried really hard to give me communion and i had to refuse bc i’m not confirmed and he squinted reaaaaal hard at me and looked super stern n shit bc that’s when he knew i wasn’t religious. when we did the peace be w you stuff he was a total dick ab it too. imagine being hated by a priest just bc of your personality lmao

but here’s an actual story about me sleeping past my alarm: i missed a really important group presentation for an AP class in high school bc i slept past my alarm. my group was furious with me (i was friends with all of them, they weren’t just people from class) and my teacher (who’s the chillest guy ever) said he was disappointed in me. it really sucked. and that year i had a friend who picked me up every morning and she was also in my group so i woke up to dozens of texts and calls from her and i felt soooo incredibly guilty for making her late too.

but yknow what these two stories have in common? i don’t care about it anymore. the situation is over and done with and there’s nothing i can do to change it bc shit happens. i honestly really hope you feel better, sometimes you just gotta let things like this go. life goes on. be a goldfish

🥺🥺🥺 sorry this took me so long to reply to, i queued a bunch of moodboards and then got completely sidetracked but you’re so sweet and this was incredibly helpful lol oversleeping sucks but you’re absolutely right it’s over and it doesn’t matter anymore. btw i showed this to my bf and every time i’ve gotten stressed about something the past day/two he looks at me and says “be a goldfish” and it’s actually working lol(also sounds like one hell of a eulogy, i’m sorry that father downer didn’t appreciate it 😕)

[blueiight]

back to wiaw…keeping them home fires burning readthru.

hilde’s graduation<333 i feel like a proud dad omg she was just 7 years old yesterday😢😢😢

Martin and Kircheis, neither of whom had any estates to speak of, remained silent, Kircheis with his placid smile, and Martin looking uncomfortably at Hilde. miss martin shaking up the table.. yang’s current situation im still reeling from how sotp ended. was not in the right frame of mind to fully process & still wont be until hes in the mix once more. hilde saying ‘HANK’ is Good with a capital G. like. u dont even know his name pop!.. hilde would be the perfect lawyer fuck this stone age empire. poor kircheis out of his body here 🤣🤣😢

good friends winkwink. yang noooo😢😢u not leeching off the mariendorfs they love u theyre literally the only good family on this side of the galaxy.

“I think we have more respectability put together than either of us have apart.” hes willing to rep reuenthal at grandpa’s funeral AND be maggie’s mutual beard.. one lazy man, roped into so much shit. its funny cuz in sotp it was maggie who was the high life baroness ‘marrying down’ but now with her 'fall' from grace itll be viewed as yang dragging her ‘back up’ into respectable society .. oh how the wheel keeps turning. or wdf this work is titled

Yang nodded solemnly. “The thing about mothers, young sir, is that everyone has one, whether she’s around or not.” stunning wisdom from our friend ‘HANK’

wiaw fred actually seems more like a haggard worn down slightly paranoid emperor than his enigmatic show counterpart. liking it. sad for yang, but dont worry my dear ‘HANK’ , at least one old man loves you (franz giving him the ring was so heartfelt). and having the emperor now dislike u should be an homage to ur waning proletarian spirit anyways

THE DREAM… ohmygod. something about how dreams neurologically work in that the mind goes into strange places but also knowing this is a fictional narrative so this means a lot. the cars running backwards. please visit my father, yang entering the door alone. wow. yeah. family. marriage. possible political problems. somethings going on here.

SIT flashbacks oh when it was all so much easier😢😢😢even if he was being a CUNT there

poppa r.. when is he ever not drunk. wait. grandpa being only 12 years older than the father.. that man said oskar’s mingling with the foreigners and the queers bc hes barely a noble (aka a ‘ bastard ‘ ) oh this family trifling & dubious AF. i love that his whole family situation is so enigmatic & haunts the narrative bc thats how it rly be in these fucked up family situations.

“He looks just like his mother, you know.” When Yang said nothing in response, Reuenthal’s father continued. “She was proud, too. I wanted her to ask me for forgiveness, but she never did, and then she killed herself rather than apologize.”

“What, exactly, were you waiting for her to apologize for?” Yang hated him.

“You know what.”

It was a testament to the brilliance of Reuenthal’s pride, that he would never apologize for existing, despite how much his father wanted him to. Yang loved him for it.

“I hope you realize someday, Herr von Reuenthal, that your wife and son never apologized to you because they had nothing to apologize for.”

“You don’t know anything,” Reuenthal’s father hissed, and Yang remembered, vividly, the same tone, the same voice, spitting at him from across the booth at Joseph’s bar, a lifetime ago. It was the same unbridled malice, when a Reuenthal was confronted with this truth, the one that they didn’t want to face because facing it would hurt too much. Only this time, it wasn’t Reuenthal-Yang’s-friend— it wasn’t Oskar— it was this living ghost.

“I know Oskar,” Yang said. “And that’s enough.”

Everything about this passage is so…my chest hurts. wiaw yang is so so sweet and loving of wiaw reuenthal in a way thats believable. its like how hes always in the mix of some bullshit in the gaidens+ canonverse wise and he doesnt wanna be there but hes there for his own interest in the topic and/or love for the person involved. and omg For Pride!!!! lotgh ep93 namedrop. it is all In the Name Of pride. but that pride is fundamentally rooted in spite which is a trainwreck we all just waiting for it to happen. this is relatable. the ova canon physical resemblance to his mother, the wiaw canon dispositional resemblance to his father in his (vilest) moments… amazing.

CH2 MITTREUEMITT on ISERLOHN together. i never mentioned it b4 but their flagships being named after 2 halves of the same city omg this is even more egregious than canonverse Brunhilde & Tristan somehow. its giving what needs to be gave

Reuenthal tapped his chin. “Stuck is an interesting word for it.”

Mittermeyer raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous talk.”

everytime someone in wiaw says 'dangerous' talk i smile like a hideous creature. wait. wait. theyre at iserlohn. and yang’s promise to braunschweig involved iserlohn. ohmygod and they dont even know💔💔

Seeing Reuenthal regularly did something indescribable and potent to his mind, made him feel like a student again, with all thoughts of home distant and unpleasantly vague, and Reuenthal right there, so physical in front of him.

u make me feel like i am young again… omg💔💔💔💔💔

Reuenthal’s hand tangled in Mittermeyer’s hair, almost pulling on it, and Mittermeyer nipped at Reuenthal’s lips in exchange, causing him to make a soft, needy noise, his other hand digging into Mittermeyer’s uniform.

Mittermeyer pulled him back towards the bedroom, and Reuenthal easily followed. They didn’t bother turning on the light, but light spilled in from the living room, plenty to see by, and Mittermeyer gave one glance at his bedside table, confirming that he had remembered to put away in the bottom drawer the photograph of Eva that usually had a place of honor there. It was as much for his sake as it was for Reuenthal’s.

. the mittreuemitt dynamic i sold my soul for at the cost of everything else (the actual rammifications. da rammys, brah.) id pay 6 billion dollars & comm all the rly lovey dovey scenes as RARE AS THEY ARE it just makes it better when we get it (& hurt more laterz.) im still at the reuenthal knight of kapche-lanka scene. but honestly mittermeyer knowing its some fuckshit impending when reuenthal’s voice is ‘light’ ohmygod i love it pillowtalking reassignments+ their ever present disdain for obes … n the association of home with heterosexual love and guilt! ohmygod..

i am amazed. im not a multi shipper like that bc i feel multi ships tend to have a preferred chara + snub others at best i prefer discrete pairings (having multiple ships but theyre discrete relationships at different stages of a character’s lives) but the writing of these relationships moves me.. like i believe they all love eachother in their own ways and thats what makes it hurt even more.

“You want to drive?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I want to kiss you.”

mitt is the only one of the 479 mafia who learned how to spit game so thats why he has two— not even gone say it.

does wolfgang mittermeyer eat pussy, thread locked after firey debate

YANG😢😢😢that old heffa been workin him to death smh. and omg he rly cant drive.. my boy is useless below da neck frl

“If I was being mistreated at work, wouldn’t you want to know? Even if there was nothing you could do about it but worry?” she asked, cutting to the core of the problem with her hands tight on the wheel. “I love you, Wolf, and I don’t want to be lied to to spare my feelings.”

BABY GRL UON EVEN WANNA KNO THE SHIT YO MAN BEEN UP TO… ohmygod.

Dinner was a pleasant and cheerful affair, but Yang kept yawning, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look almost pitiful, so Mittermeyer’s mother had tucked him up in the guest bedroom immediately after dinner. omg hes so adorable i feel bad for him too FUCK BRAUNSCHWEIG

“Some of them.” He paused, then added, “More of them bring their mistresses.” and you get to work with yours!

The convo w his mom is scaring me .. after sotp we are getting into totally original content not to say nat hasnt been incredibly creative but ygwim here my knowledge of lotgh canon will not carry me thru these next parts like they did b4 and ik canon mitt was the immortal gale wolf but that convo gave so many death flags oh my lawd

DID EVA MISCARRY DURING THE STRESS OF THE FLEGEL SHIT OHMYGOD? My heart legit hurts 😢😢😢😢💔💔💔 WHY IS THIS SO SAD FOR ME???

“I know.” Mittermeyer looked away. “What did they think you were going to do?”

“Oh, I think they thought that you and I had something going on.”

they may have been wrong at the time but ngl i need there to be sum that go down between the two of yall. i have never begged for poly like this before in my 95 years of existence. reuyang still need they top, gurl LIKE u know his real name😢 u mess w the same girl its meant to be.

“No,” Yang said. “A friend of mine— Boris Konev— he made it up as a joke. It just sounds almost like ‘Yang Wen-li’ when you say it fast.” He shook his head. “That was a million years ago, now.”

I FUCKING KNEW IT KONEV UR SUCH A TROLL⚰️⚰️⚰️ Ugh yang hits different bc hes such an honest sort of sentiment i cant describe it hes not just kind hes truly genial& theres just this sense of weariness in wiaw so early here that he doesnt exhibit until the near end of his life in lotgh canon and it makes me so sad.

Yang shook his head. “I have no idea.” The melancholy in his voice was almost painful for Mittermeyer to listen to. He crouched down next to Yang, and handed him back the box with the engagement ring. Yang turned it over in his hands. “I have no idea what he’d think of me now.”

“You don’t think he’d be proud of you?”

Yang rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t even think he’d recognize me.”😢😢😢😢😢😢

chapter 3’s title. Oskar von Reuenthal Was Born Innocent. We gettin into it Na Chile

THAT OLD BITCH DIED WE SMOKING ON THAT PETER PACK…

The thing that made him clench his hands into white knuckled fists was the second part of the message, which said that Reuenthal had inherited everything that there was to inherit.

He didn’t want it. Not the money that was listed there in the message, not the investments that his father had made, not the house, not the land it sat on. He didn’t want any of it, and he had thought— by virtue of his father striking him from the family record almost a decade ago— that he would be free of it. He hadn’t given much thought to what would become of the property if his father failed to assign an heir (though the mental image of it crumbling into dust sometimes flashed through his head, when he remembered it,) and he had taken as much pride as he could in making his way in the world without any hope of an inheritance to fall back on.

As with every other thing his parents had given to him, it was his burden to bear, and he would bear it.

This is so powerful. and evocative. this is also the worst time for him to receive the sort of news about yang& maggie. this is perfect.

He didn’t even know if that was what he truly wanted— he knew he shouldn’t want it— but there was this sensation of pressure behind his eyes, an impulse that said the only way to free himself was to crash into something with great force, full body: a train, his face into a wall, a fist. It didn’t matter what. His body hungered for the pressure, a release valve for whatever thought he couldn’t put a name to.

like… i dont even have words i just love this. he drank instead. but he drank.

im fighting the urge to post every single paragraph of reuenthal in his father’s mansion. but im gnawing at it. just know. and in this. i remember reuenthal is the only living person who calls yang by his first name. and only in select moments. im...

“Come to my place.”

“No.”

“I’d like to see you,” Yang said.

Reuenthal took a long moment to weigh Yang’s tone. If he was offering out of pity, Reuenthal had no interest in seeing him. But if it was a genuine want on Yang’s part…

“Come here, then,” Reuenthal finally said.

“Okay,” Yang said. “I will.”

im horrified at seeing my pathology reflected here but poor yang can barely drive! and mind u its snowing ! ohmygod. OH wait we getting good fucking use of that tag i knew of it from em’s beautiful drawing but the Context makes it so much more meaty.

But Reuenthal didn’t need to keep his mother’s dresses as a reminder of anything. He had better ones. WAIT WHAT. AND WE WILL NEVER GET TO KNOW CUZ YANG IS HERE. AND.

He looked at Yang for a long moment more, the dream frozen. But then Yang stepped forward into the room, crossing the threshold, and the dream fell away, and it was just them once again, Yang coming towards him as he sat on his childhood bed. THE DREAM IS ACTUALLY SHARED AND ITS REUENTHAL’S NIGHTMARE?. WHAT IS IT WITH THESE FUCKING DOORS.

A housewarming party. im sure thisll go well/sarcasm

“Okay, then invite Evangeline too.”

“She won’t come anywhere near me unless Baroness Westpfale is also in attendance.” WHY U SO MEAN TO HER . I KNOW WHY. AND I WILL KILL U WITH ROCKS

Personally, Reuenthal didn’t feel like there was that much tension— Magdalena seemed perfectly willing to give better than she got— but Yang had been tugging at his hair watching their back and forth.

Tears ran down my face from how much i laughed at this. stop ittt ur hurting her (yang seeing two ppl he cares about go blow for blow). this is why i love wiaw cuz ppl love to force cringe ~sappho~ ~mulm~ soldiarity bullshit but maggie being brash and reuenthal being a sexist is so essential. im sure theyll get along even worse (/positively said. i love terrible things.) when he gets the tea abt maggie n yang </3. how can i speedrun to the elfriede reuenthal floor shit that i heard about

blue flowers in a gold and black beer mug. like . get it the fuck together girl.

MITTERMEYER. I SEE WHY THEY CALL YO ASS THE GALE WOLF. CUZ U MOVE FAST. this is the mittermeyer i love. i love how yang is so easy w/ reuenthal like easy kisses fade to black scenes do u want me to come by? in the snow? & i cant drive? while mittermeyer just jumps him hands on his hips while his ole lady upstairs. teeth clacking in the kiss. insane. insane. the 479 trio gets down hanny

reuenthal @ eva

“Oh, I don’t think that Hank has either the ability or the desire to dictate what I do.”

“Then you would make a poor wife,” Reuenthal said flatly. “And I would not wish you on him.”

There was a moment of awkward silence around the table, then Magdalena laughed, very loudly. “Oh, gods, Oskar, you are hilarious. I hope you come to our wedding and stand up and loudly object when they ask if anyone has a problem with us.”

THE WAY MAGGIE IS THE ONE WHO LAUNCHES THE WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT IN SUUUUUCH A WAY. OMG.

this is the one of the only fanfic to ever exist. “Being married to Mittermeyer might be nice.” like. im cackling. this is one of the worst days in his life

OH. OH AND NOW. WE ALMOST SUCKIN DICK IN WINECELLARS NOW. WOW.

“I’ll let you know.” He would not let her know.

If Magdalena wanted the tour, he would give her the tour.

FUNNIEST thing ever. the trauma congaline is even funnier. ohmygod. pop dont ever get help💜💯DID YOU WANT ANY LEFTOVERS. THERES PLENTY OF CAKE. IM IN TEARS. hes so demented

Yang muttered. He finished his drink in what looked like one gulp, then leaned further on Reuenthal until his head settled, catlike, in Reuenthal’s lap. “I still do feel bad, though.” Yang’s eyes were closed, and Reuenthal stroked his hair. Magdalena watched, sipping her own drink, and Reuenthal silently dared her to say anything.

theyre so cute ohmygod. yang is so cute.. little kitty . im going to cut my fingers off and eat them. this is my most disorganized wiaw read (as if any of this shit was ever put together) im so gone rn. magdalena faking like shed throw the glass.

“I want to try this on,” she said, holding up Yang’s uniform, which he hadn’t noticed her carrying out of the bedroom in the dark.

ANOTHER USE OF THAT ILLUSTRIOUS TAG OMG she literally says in gaiden she would love to wear a uniform. oh my god this story is perfect

“Come on,” Magdalena said. “Call me sir. Just once.”

“Yes, sir,” Reuenthal said. It alarmed him how easy it was to indulge her.

Guys is this.

is this what.

“I don’t think this even belongs to him. I think you’re trying to trick me, for some joke.” He pulled the ring off his finger. He held it up to the light, then moved to toss it into the fire. She let out a yelp of surprise and grabbed his hand before he could let go of it, gripping tight with wide eyes and fingernails that dug into his skin. It was the first genuine reaction he thought he had ever gotten out of her, and he was smugly satisfied by it.

U wont be able to come back down 3-1 …

This simulacrum was close enough to be disturbing and fascinating, in a way that he couldn’t refuse outright.

OH WE SHOLL IS GOING THERE OHMYGOD. maggie wearing hank’s clothes in this simulacrum. her desire to take on these roles. ‘Hank’. he never got a chance to kiss ‘Hank’. theres this thing u did here w how reuenthal randomly has these moments of being in his head in the ova& getting caught up in his own illusions / head (“but im not a poet im just a vulgar warrior!” girl u was just waxing poetics about history wanting its blood n spacing out at the commander’s chair thinking about the police taking pics of ur mom’s death.) at times that. in wiaw its handled in such a tantalizing way is just. so so. wow. some ppl may find it tangential or slightly ooc but ur working magic out of scraps here n ppl dont see it. ppl dont see it. and it hurts my soul

And the morning after. i feel like something was fucked here thatll never go back the same. this and sotp is like. a complete fuckening. if thats even a word mane. omg. i done died