#cap 003

[revasserium]

A request for Zayne with the prompt, "a note on public health" 🙏🫶☺️

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

32. a note on public health

zayne; 1,519 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", zayne!branded humor, vague innuendos, established relationship

summary: a couple of public service announcements.

a/n: zayne cares much about your health ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

001. sleep

For optimal health, one should get eight to ten hours of sleep per night.

You try to stifle a yawn as Zayne glances over the day’s news, projected onto the smooth white tabletop. He looks up, eyes narrowing as you freeze halfway through, attempting to mask the motion with a soft cough.

You reach for your half-finished coffee but Zayne tugs it away with a soft sigh.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

You purse your lips, averting your eyes as you reach for a slice of toast, tugging off a corner and stuffing it in your mouth.

“Would’ve slept better if someone hadn’t kept me up past my bedtime.”

This time, it’s Zayne who looks away, coughing as he sips at his own coffee.

“I made sure we finished at a reasonable hour.”

You jerk upright, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, a hot flush working its way into your cheeks. You wonder how he can keep such a straight face, how he looks so fundamentally unbothered. But then, he lets out a light chuckle.

“But you’re right — they say it’s not good to have strenuous exercise right before bed. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Zayne!” you toss a crumpled bit of napkin at him, your heartbeat pounding at the back of your throat.

Zayne’s eyebrow flicks upward as he picks up the piece of tissue and gently lobs it into the trash can next to the kitchen counter before going back to this breakfast, the faintest hint of a smile shadowing his lips.

002. water

Adults over 19 should drink 1.5 to 2 liters of water a day for optimal health.

“Hello? What is it?”

“Hi! Uhm… where are you? I don’t — I don’t see you.”

“I’m… at home.”

“What? But… the app says you’ve arrived…”

Zayne sighs, “Did you dial the wrong number? This is Zayne.”

“…Oh! Oops.”

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

You hiccup, and he can almost see you shaking your head the way you do when you want to deny something you’d obviously been doing. He pushes up from the sofa, grabbing his coat.

“Not… not a lot — Tara just wanted to celebrate since —“ you hiccup again, “since it’s her first promotion, y’know?”

Zayne hums, “Mhm. Where are you?”

“No, no! It’s okay! I called a cab —“

“Cancel it. I’ll come get you.”

“But…”

“Cancel it. And send me your location.”

Thirteen minutes later, you’re climbing into the passenger seat of Zayne’s car with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. Here.”

You blink down at the bottle of water Zayne is pressing into your lap.

“Oh… thanks, but I had a lot of water at the bar!” You turn to flash him a bright, proud smile, “See? I do listen to you!”

Zayne laughs as he pulls into a stop light, glancing over at you, the bottle of water cradled between your hands.

“Yes, and I suppose you’re very proud of yourself this time?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that lets you know he’s not mad. Still, you scowl.

“Shouldn’t you be proud that your patient is getting better at taking care of herself?”

Zayne sighs, reaching over the tug the bottle from your hands before unscrewing the cap and handing it back to you.

“Drink.”

You look like you’re about to argue for a split second before you catch the sharp look in his eye and bring the bottle up to your lips for a long drink. Zayne allows himself a satisfied smile as he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze.

“Good. Good girl.”

003. sun

To maintain healthy blood levels, aim to get 10 - 30 minutes of midday sun, several days a week.

“It’s been raining for forever…”

Zayne looks up from the patient chart propped up in his lap.

You’re sprawled across the sofa on the other side of the room, staring at the bleary, rain-streaked windows with a dull, world-weary expression. Zayne’s eyes flick toward the window for a second before sliding up to the large clock above his door.

It’s three minutes till the end of the day, and he’d agreed you could wait for him in his office while he finished up.

“It has.” He drops his eyes back down to the chart in his hands. The patient is doing well — all things considered. He should keep them for another night of study before signing off to let him go home. Zayne punches in the quick note in for his nurses before setting the chart down.

“Weather forecast says it’s gonna rain all through the weekend too.”

“Hm.” Zayne gets up, rolling his shoulders loose of the knots that had gathered there before rounding his desk, “Come on then.”

“Oh! Are you done? Are we… going to get dinner?” You jump up from the sofa, seemingly revived, a smile on your face. Zayne regards you for a moment before turning.

“Not yet.”

“Not… yet?” you trail after him as he shrugs on his coat and locks his office door.

He can feel your curiosity bubbling for the entire walk to his car through the vast parking garage. He allows himself a smile as you slide in and look at him expectantly. For a second, he toys with the idea of not telling you, of seeing just how long you can hold out before you start to pester him.

“You’ll see,” he says, just as you open your mouth to ask.

“So… it’s a surprise?” you ask.

He shrugs, pulling out of the parking space and cresting through the dimly lit parking structure till he turns onto the bustling city street.

“I suppose it will be.”

“Did you… plan this?” he can hear the hopefulness in your voice, the giddiness sparkling there like soda fizz.

“No, but did you say I should try to be more spontaneous sometimes?”

“Sure but…” he can hear you pouting, “well, fine, if you really don’t want to tell me.”

He keeps quiet just to savor in the silence, in the knowledge that you are here with him, and so, so eager to know what he has planned for you. He wonders if it’s cruel to enjoy this, to love the way you’re so reactive, to love… everything about you.

You blink as he pulls into a darkened road, wide as it is, to the clearly gated Botanical Gardens. Your confusion only grows as the night guard there gives him a cheery wave before punching a button and the giant gates hiss open to allow you both entry.

“Thanks,” Zayne says, lifting a hand as the night guard waves them through with a bright smile.

He casts you a single glance before chuckling, “His daughter was a patient of mine a while back — she had a genetic cardiac condition that — well,” Zayne breaks off as he parks the car in the first space and opens the door.

“Regardless, she needed surgery. It was risky but… we managed to save her.”

He leads you down the winding path to one of the smaller greenhouses, lit up so brightly from the inside that you have to squint your eyes as he punches in an access code and lets you both through the door.

The wall of heat that greets you both nearly knocks you off your feet but a moment later, you smile as the warmth seeps into your skin, and you turn your face up towards the high ceilings, speckled with what you’re certain are tiny little sunlamps, beaming down at the arid landscape below.

“Are these… cacti?” you wonder aloud, shuffling over to a large, bulbous plant with long thin spikes.

“Yes, these are the desert plants. They need prolonged exposure to sunlight to live.”

“Oh…” you bend down to read the short description of the cacti before moving onto the next one, and then the next one. Zayne trails behind you, watching with a soft smile and softer eyes as you point out the tiny little yellow flowers budding on one, and the strange shapes of another.

“Not that this isn’t fun and all but…” you turn to him as you finally return to the front of the greenhouse, having seen all the different varieties of desert plants in this particular area, “why’d you bring me here?”

Zayne holds open the door for you.

“You looked like you were missing the sun.”

Even beneath the barely there lighting of the parking lot, Zayne sees your blush darkening your cheeks.

“I — I guess I was,” you say as you slip once more into the passenger seat of his car, looking over at him, “but… weren’t you missing it too?”

Zayne’s grin skews as he tugs on his seatbelt, but he schools his expression back into its usual mask of stoicism as he answers, “No. I’ve already got you.”

[astrow1zar6]

Astro observations- 003

People with Mars in the 8th house tend to have stalkers. Whether it be exes or people who at school. Ppl become obsessed with them easily (good or bad)

Capricorn risings usually came from a household with an absent father & a very immature/narcissistic mother (Aries in 4th house) a lot of them had to parent themselves & their mother which caused this strong independence they have ☹️

I believe Eore from Winnie the Pooh had Saturn in his 5th house. I read somewhere this is the ultimate party pooper placement lol. They have a very serious tone to fun and it can feel very awkward to them to let loose. These are usually the people that try to leave parties/ social gatherings early. Can have a very monotone speech as well.

The most likable/easygoing person I’ve ever met’s big three was an Aquarius rising, Sagittarius sun, and a Libra moon.

12 house placements ( especially Venus) prefer relationships in their head then in the physical. They are hopeless romantics & long for a partner but I see a lot that will daydream about their crush but never make a move. The fake scenarios they make in their head with their crush are usually too good for most people to live up to & deep down they know this😂 the types to have fictional character crushes

Pisces placements are very big into cartoons/anime.

Many Virgo risings were born in very strict or religious households. Parents could’ve limited certain clothing or taught them sex was bad & not to have it before marriage. Parents had a big focus on making them “pure”. This is why they grow up with such humbleness and modesty. Were usually taught showing off was bad (Leo in 12th) even tho they deeply want to:(

Aquarius/ Pisces placements are the most likely to experiment with drugs

Uranus in the 12th people are actually big weirdos but due to trauma hide their quirkiness under a very conventional mask to fit in.

Sun in Capricorns aren’t into money as everyone claims. I find a lot that never go to college and work regular jobs. Very hardworking tho. I notice they care more about nice materials & designer instead of having high paying jobs & moving up the social latter like the (rising or moon).

Imo cap moons/risings are the breadwinners not so much the sun.

I notice people with grand trines have so much talent but most do nothing with them🙃 (me included)

People with Jupiter in the 12th house are sooo lucky. They put themselves in a lot of dangerous situations that they get out of safely everytime🙏🏽 think the cricket from Mulan 😂

People born with Mercury Rx I hear think in pictures and not words, very visual learners. Takes them longer to grasp language and logic early on which is why school & social situations can be difficult for them.

[saerins]

PREV: #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 NEXT: #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot you don’t understand about what’s going on with sae, but he can say the same about you. question is, once you both find out more about each other, will your growing feelings stay the same?

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. profanity, alcohol, reader is fairly straightforward here, pining, jealousy, misunderstandings. word count: 5.8k

༝༚༝༚ slightly shorter chapter this week ^_^ hehe we’re getting closer to the messier/exciting parts so bear with me heh :) mwah ily guys <3

you’re starting to learn that maybe you can’t get your hopes up with itoshi sae.

a week later, you don’t hear anything from him. you both haven’t spoken since that night he took you out. not that you’re entirely too bothered—it’s a first for you, trying to get to know someone as in-demand as sae. (you don’t count eita because you’ve known him since before the fame.)

it doesn’t help that you don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. you promised sae that you wouldn’t spill, and you’re keeping that promise. somehow, it makes you feel a little warm inside; thinking that there is some sort of intimacy you share with sae that only the two of you know.

besides, even if you could talk to eita about it, you don’t want to. 

is it too quick for you to think you might fall for him?

falling for someone isn’t really in your life plans yet, especially after your last and only tumultuous relationship, but maybe itoshi sae is different. he sure seems like it.

the next week rolls around, and you still hear nothing from him. which is fine with you; you’ve resigned yourself to thinking what’s yours will be yours and not to force anything… even if you spend most of your idle time wondering if sae is ever going to post anything on his private account. did he really just create it solely because you asked him to?

you can see that he logs in to it, judging by his icon on that little viewer list in your stories. but that’s the extent to which you see him online. he doesn’t reply, or do anything much. considering his normal account is probably mainly run by his team, you guess you shouldn’t expect too much from him.

still, maybe it’s a little pathetic of you to be wearing his cap so frequently. it’s sort of become a staple piece for you, somehow. to be fair, there’s hardly any dress code in place for you to follow and considering the bulk of your workwear is mostly casual, it fits right into your style. although, after sumi pointed out one day that it’s a luxury brand and that it costs more than you would personally ever spend on a cap (even if you had the means to), you try to wear it less often. (though that seems like a waste considering it was given to you.)

“you know, you gave the boss a really good scoop, enough to last for a few months,” sumi points out during lunch, taking a lick of her vanilla ice cream as the both of you sit out on the roof, escaping the cramped office. “so why do you look so stressed?”

honestly, you didn’t even realise you did. you thought you were being normal, but it has been a while since you had a normal crush on someone, and since itoshi sae is certainly not just a normal somebody, maybe you had been acting a little off, always waiting for a text, a call even, something.

“nothing, i just haven’t been able to get a good sleep lately,” you lie, hoping that sumi won’t pry.

she doesn’t.

“hm, it’s friday today,” she hums, pondering. “maybe you should find a few of your friends, get out, let loose, you know?”

later at your desk, the clock almost striking 5pm, you think maybe you should. because as much as you love your chill friday nights alone (mainly because your mom is barely home on the weekends), you don’t think it’ll do you much good if you keep mulling over the same old thing.

but just as you’re about to go pester eita again, he gets to you first, his timing impeccable today.

there’s an aching disappointment in your chest when you realise sae isn’t going to be there. maybe it’s just the glaring difference between the life of a celebrity versus someone normal like you. his schedule must usually be packed to the brim after all.

whatever, you’ll let him come back to you on his own time. for now, all you want to do for the weekend is to spend it having fun with the guys and settling everything you need to on saturday and spend sunday to yourself.

this possible thing between you and sae, whatever it could be, can wait. you’re not in any rush. at least, that’s what your head tells you.

your heart feels something different.

it’s only the second time you’re actually hanging out with eita’s friends, but you’re not regretting it one bit. even on the day of the event they’d been welcoming to you, and tonight is no exception.

they’re all sat around the wooden table on the balcony, a ton of beer cans and liquor bottles littered across the table. you sit on the long end, on the long chair, right beside eita, sides of your bodies always pressed close together that it makes a glint form in oliver’s eyes.

he’s still curious, not out of concern but just because, about you and eita and sae and how everything is going to tie together. it’s not everyday he sees eita being okay with a girl that close to him and not complain that she’s a bother. it’s also not everyday that sae creates a private account. oliver got bored and saw one day that you were the first person he followed.

you must really be something.

“where even is sae today?” you hear sendou ask, a hiccup following suit. “i finally come over and he’s not even here.”

he’s sitting on your other side, his profile strangely reminding you of the very guy he’s asking about. maybe it’s the way his hair is a lighter shade of pink, maybe even his sharp jawline. his eyes are different though, more expressive, and universally soft somehow.

you remember how sae’s can look soft, his teal eyes turning gentle whenever you try to approach him. but it wasn’t that way when you first met him, that’s a given.

“i don’t know, said he was too tired,” oliver sighs, stretching in his seat.

“wasn’t he just with bianca yesterday?” yukimiya asks, oblivious to oliver’s glee.

it kind of stings, but you stay quiet, the alcohol slowly seeping into your system. you can feel eita leaning against you a little bit more, and his presence has always been comforting, so you let him.

sendou hums, index finger tapping against his near-empty beer can. “is that still going on? how long has their relationship status been a mystery already?”

karasu snorts, nudging sendou on the elbow. “salty just ‘cause you tried to ask her out and she rejected you?”

as you sit quietly and observe, it seems that sendou was once at an event with her too—apparently, he had asked her for her number and she didn’t even want to give it to him. and then a month later she “met sae and was all over him”, according to karasu.

with the exception of eita, who sits quietly beside you, they start a debate on whether or not sae’s finally starting to see bianca in a different light. or, as sendou points out, “maybe they’ve been a thing all along and just hid it really well from everyone.” it’s not exactly something you want to listen to, even if you are the most curious you’ve ever been about a guy, so you block it out from your ears. 

but oliver leans forward, resting his chin on the liquor bottle in front of him, staring straight at you. you’ve never really noticed it but his eyes are really beautiful, the different shades of green and purple making him seem ethereal just like that. 

“you’re a girl, y/n, what do you think?” he asks you, a lazy drawl in his tone.

mirroring his actions, you bat your eyelashes at him, looking innocent as ever when you answer him. “i think you guys should stop talking about that her behind her back like that,” you say, earning a raise of oliver’s brows in return. he’s surprised, to say the least, but not in a bad way.

it’s not even that you don’t want to hear about her. you’re wantonly curious, especially since you’re beginning to realise your small hint of emotions towards sae, but something tells you that these guys wouldn’t be too kind with their words if you egg them on.

karasu gives you a nod of approval that you miss before he leans back in the chair, whispering to yukimiya, “at least we all know shidou won’t totally hate y/n.” but it’s too soft for you to hear, and you probably won’t even be able to make sense of it even if you did, not with the gradually increasing level of alcohol in your system.

between intentionally drinking to not be a pathetic mess who keeps thinking about her potential love life and having to drink because you’re usually good at drinking games but not when oliver is around with the way he keeps beating you at everything, you happen not to notice a lot of things.

at one point, oliver has replaced sendou next to you, whispering snarky comments in your ear in between games. he’s not the flirting kind, at least not to you, and he doesn’t push your boundaries physically either—he’s more akin to a friend you’d love to gossip with. that’s why you don’t even think much when he tilts his camera towards you, taking a selfie with both you and eita in it.

just a normal picture of friends hanging out, oliver leaning against your legs, propped up on the chair, your own head leaning into the crook of eita’s neck, all of you evidently tipsy from the dazed look in your eyes.

what neither of you notice is oliver’s smirk as he posts the picture onto his private, betting on his target audience of one to see it.

and now, he’ll just have to wait.

one hour later, the doorbell rings and yukimiya’s eyes glance over to eita, comfortable with an arm around you, and he takes it as his cue to open the door. eita’s probably too reluctant to move and he’ll let whoever it is at the door keep at it for hours before he’ll answer the poor guy.

he’s expecting some random food delivery, maybe from karasu because he’s been whining about wanting some chicken with his beer, or maybe even shidou showing up at the last minute from his other party. but this? the person he’s staring at in the eyes right now, is the last person he expected to see tonight. 

“wait, i thought you weren’t coming?” yukimiya asks, but oliver’s already shouting from the balcony.

“hey, sae, what the fuck are you doing here?” he asks from the balcony, taking a swig of his beer.

beside him, you hear sae’s name and your head immediately whips around to look at the door. there he is, looking tired as ever but he’s there, in the flesh, dressed in all black, jacket and sweats, teal eyes finding you from all the way across the house.

sae wordlessly walks past yukimiya, the latter following behind him, still shocked that he’s even present. sure looks like sae always means it when he says he wouldn’t come to gatherings like these.

when he gets to the balcony, earning a cock of oliver’s brow, sae tilts his head, “i was invited, wasn’t i? what’s so surprising about that?”

oliver snickers at sae’s blatant avoidance of the question. deciding he wouldn’t get anything out of him anyway, he shrugs and accepts it. besides, he can already see that sae’s too busy trying to calculate if there’s enough space for him to sit beside you, with the way his eyes are scanning your surroundings. maybe it doesn’t help how eita’s so clingy with you, his arm still around you even when you’ve already straightened up.

both sae and eita are just staring blankly at each other, and everyone is aware of it except for you, because your head’s a little dizzy and you’re still thinking whether sae popping up here is a figment of your imagination.

you’re not that drunk, are you?

you get your answer when a shadow looms over your body, the familiar scent of his cologne wafting into your nose. he smells the same he did that night you kissed him.

“what, this seat taken?” sae asks, and you dumbly look down at the small edge of space beside you.

no, it’s not, but you’re probably going to have to squeeze between him and eita if he sits there, no more legroom. you shift anyway, eita making space (albeit reluctantly), the way sae ends up being so close to you enough to send your mind into overdrive. you’re still wondering why he showed up.

you, and everyone else. not oliver though. he knows why. and it’s not like he wants to intentionally make you cough out your feelings but it looks like the other guys who are oblivious to your feelings are steering in that direction. 

“no bianca today?” karasu asks, a mocking tone in his voice.

sae doesn’t show an ounce of emotion, though. “wasn’t with her.”

“why not? scared we’re gonna make you two make out again like last time?” yukimiya asks, finally relaxing back in his seat. he says it jokingly, although you know the sentence at hand probably isn’t a joke.

“wait wait wait, you two made out?” sendou asks, incredulous, mirroring your exact thoughts. 

a jealousy creeps up your spine, engulfing your alcohol-riddled distractions. some part of you wants to know what it’d be like to be kissed by him. you purse your lips into a firm line, wondering if you were being an accidental homewrecker by kissing him that night.

“it was just a game,” sae responds, making no moves to drink the beer handed to him.

eita pulls his arms away, moving in favour of getting you a drink. it’s not that he even knows anything that’s going on between you and sae, but he can tell by how you’re stiffening up that you’re probably a little affected. he slides a shot over to you, and you down it with ease.

ignoring the way the other guys keep harping on the topic, sae turns his attention to you, flicking the tip of the cap he gave you, and you shift your gaze to look up at him, the small smirk he gives you when you do making your heart flutter again.

why is it so easy for him to do that to you?

“haven’t sold my cap yet?”

you thank the heavens you’re not too tipsy to be normal. “i’m holding out for higher bids, actually,” you quip, grinning. “you can offer one too if you want it back.”

sae hums, head tilted again as he ponders while staring at you. slowly, he leans down to your ear, whispering so only you can hear him, “how much do i have to bid for you to keep it?”

maybe it’s the liquor, but you feel your cheeks heat up. it can’t be his close proximity. it can’t be the way he’s so close that you can see the beating pulse on his neck. it can’t be the way you think you look more intimate here than you should. definitely can’t be the way all the guys have noticed and are giving each other looks.

why does he even want you to keep it? is this some sort of abstract way that he’s using to tell you that you’re not an accidental homewrecker?

you make a mental reminder to yourself to never get drunk in front of sae. you don’t want to end up blurting out some less-than-decent thoughts of yours.

“what’s wrong? too tipsy now to talk back?” sae asks, and you can only pout at him, not in your usual condition to think of smart comebacks. it makes the corner of his lips tug upwards just a little bit more than usual, his hand coming up to teasingly push the cap down further—in that seemingly affectionate way he does.

and maybe it isn’t such a good idea to agree to continue to play games, not when you got roped into never have i ever and karasu, to the delight of oliver, said he has never fucked anyone at this table. seeing that only you and eita put a finger down, everyone can tell there’s probably a complicated history between you and eita. not that you owe them any explanation, though you kind of do feel the urge to tell sae that it was in the past.

you steal a glance at him beside you, the mild look of surprise befallen on his handsome face. you wonder if he thinks badly of you now. you wonder if he’ll think badly of you when he sees what your life is really like. will he think you’re just going to be a stain on his fancy life that it’ll be better off not knowing you?

or maybe… maybe he has a complicated past too. with bianca.

funnily enough, eita loses after yukimiya says he’s never had sex with more than five girls. the disappointing part is you didn’t really get to know anything interesting about sae.

“hey, you feeling okay? you can stop playing if you wanna,” sae tells you later on, after god knows how many minutes have passed and you’re already onto the next game. you don’t even know why you agreed to play two truths one dare in the first place when you know it’ll just be a shitshow for you. 

over the course of x minutes, you’d managed to learn many things, some of which being that karasu and eita had shared a girl in bed, that yukimiya dared to do a body shot on oliver, that sae would consider bianca an important person to him, and that you really can’t make up your mind to go big or go home because oliver had just dared you to spend seven minutes in heaven with anyone of your choosing.

of course, you can safely choose eita and trust him not to do anything if you told him to. but on the flip side, you can choose who you really want. even if you’re not so sure he’d want to anymore.

“you can always choose me,” oliver jokes, lifting the mood. although the smirk on his face makes you question it. “i’ll definitely show you a good time.”

while you’re having an internal dilemma, karasu and sendou are in the background teasing oliver for being fake, saying that he shouldn’t be offering that if he’s already interested in miss manager.

but you snap out of it when the irritated sigh you hear out of sae somehow feels like the world is sending you a sign. in some way. you’re not sure if you’re reaching—is he bothered by oliver’s comments? and why does oliver look so smug all of a sudden?

you’re beginning to regret not being sober, you can’t figure this shit out. but what you do figure out is what you want to do. why think so much about tomorrow when the present is right here?

so you don’t pay it any more thoughts, getting up and dragging sae with you by the shirt, ignoring all the commotion left behind by the guys, save for eita who only stares blankly at you as you drag sae into his own room and lock the door.

“oh shit, sorry dude, didn’t mean to—”

“for the last time, just friends,” otoya snaps, cutting karasu off, although not even sendou believes him. for someone who doesn’t even care to treat people nicely, sendou can at least see that eita treats you a fair bit better than anyone else.

in the room, sae can only watch blankly as you stumble over your feet before finally settling on the edge of otoya’s bed. the envious, green side of him can’t help but wonder how many times you’d been here, in his room, with him. though it’s kind of amusing how you chose to bring sae in here now.

from what sae can tell, you’re probably a little more tipsy than you should be in these types of situation, and a part of him is relieved that you’re not here with anyone else. if you were here with otoya, would you be fooling around by now?

“so, thought you were too tired to show up—what happened?” you ask from where you are on the bed, body swaying slightly, eyes threatening to close.

the moment he takes a seat next to you, you lean close, your head coming to rest on his shoulder, and sae has no doubt that you’d already drank a lot before he came. proximity this close, he can smell the shampoo in your hair, can feel how soft it is.

“i couldn’t sleep, got bored, that’s all.”

your shoulders vibrate slightly as you giggle, pulling away, a suspicious glint in your eyes. “damn, and here i thought you came for me.”

even when you’re intoxicated you still have such a smart mouth. sae shrugs, his gaze turning ever so soft, like every time before when he looks at you. there’s something about you that he can’t quite place, something that makes him act so differently than he usually does, and for once he doesn’t hate it. “did you want me to?”

not taking the bait, you keep up your casual demeanour, even if your eyelids feel heavy and you’re about five seconds away from just passing right out on the bed.

“you know, it’s fine to say you missed me and wanted to see me,” you tell him, grin wide as ever, almost infectious. you’re only surviving on liquid courage right now, the way you unashamedly try to flirt. though, if sae isn’t moving away, does that mean he doesn’t mind?

he looks off to the side, pondering for a while before turning back to you with a straight face, “i missed you, wanted to see you.”

for a moment, you feel like your heart might stop.

“is that what you wanna hear?”

almost instinctively, you grab the stray pillow lying on the bed and fling it at sae, earning an amused laugh from him but you barely realise it, too caught up in the frustration that his words were just strung together to entertain you as opposed to his actual feelings.

crossing your arms, you look away, the exhaustion of the day coupled with the dread of tomorrow nipping away at your consciousness. “don’t patronise me, itoshi sae,” you huff, and you miss the way he looks at you with a smile on his face.

will you remember any of this tomorrow? you’re not drunk, but you’re not exactly thinking straight either.

“were you… very busy this past week?”

your question is voiced so softly, almost like you’re afraid to ask, and sae realises maybe he should’ve at least told you he wouldn’t be able to make it as early as he thought he would.

“yeah, i was.”

technically, he isn’t lying. he was back in japan last saturday, but maybe he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to do anything else.

“with bianca?”

it’s even softer this time, and for some reason, sae’s almost kind of relieved you’re asking. he just doesn’t know what it is.

“no, not really,” he tells you. it’s complicated, and you don’t even have context; he wouldn’t even know where to begin talking to you about it.

you put your legs up on the bed, hiding your face between your knees, and sae’s left wondering whether alcohol really makes that much of a difference. you seem bold, shy and teasing all at once. his hat is still on your head, your thoughts coming out into the open.

“are you… involved with her?” your voice is muffled, but he hears you loud and clear.

a small smile dawns onto his face, safe from your view. he doesn’t really know the implications of you asking the question, but he likes how you don’t beat around the bush. it’s nice not having to constantly guess what you really mean.

and maybe it’s you rubbing off on him, but he doesn’t answer it straight.

“curious, y/n?”

when you lift your head up to look at him, you see the widest smile he’s ever given you, objectively much smaller and way more subtle than everyone else, but it’s a smile all the same and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest.

“yes,” you answer honestly, because you’re not sure when exactly you’re going to pass out but you have a feeling it’ll be soon and eita’s bed is just so soft.

sae is only mildly stunned by how straightforward you are, so he decides to do you a favour. he doesn’t usually like divulging things like this; topics that bring gossip and are undoubtedly going to come back to him if it gets out. what’s more, you work for a sports magazine so you can totally use this against him, but it isn’t even that you’re intoxicated right now, but more so that he feels he can trust you with it.

slowly, he reaches his hand over, and for once he tips the cap upwards a little so he can see your eyes when he tells you, “stupid, i’m not involved with anyone.” is that clear enough for you? he’s not sure why but he hopes it is.

what does he even want with you?

the moment you hear it, you break out into a wide smile, genuine and actually infectious this time because sae feels the corners of his lips threatening to pull upwards even more. what the heck is this feeling?

“really? i’m so relieved,” you exhale, voice a little airy, looking a little too pretty that sae immediately pulls the cap back downwards. “so,” you move on, adjusting it back in position, daring to move closer to him, face so close to his own that he has nowhere else to look except straight into your eyes. “we have four minutes left. will you grant me whatever i want, itoshi sae?”

you have a habit of calling him by his full name. he makes a mental reminder to get you to change that. not tonight though, he doesn’t want you to forget.

it’s weird how he feels around you; why does he feel so overwhelmed yet want more both at the same time? he swallows the lump in his throat, keeping his composure, “depends, you’re pretty demanding, tell me first and i’ll consider.”

“itoshi sae, i’m not!” you refute, punching him playfully on the arm and he has to hold your arm to stop you from falling off the bed. “i don’t know. the guys outside are probably expecting us to fuck or something.”

there you go, unfiltered and he kind of likes it. his fingers are still around your wrist.

but the answer is crystal clear to him.

“no.”

“huh?” it takes you a while to process. given that the only thoughts in your head as of right now are only: what does sae think of you and eita? and bianca is important to him. “what if it was just a kiss?”

he hums, then shakes his head. “nope.”

“wait, am i not pretty enough for you or something?”

you’re whining and sae finds it cute of all things. you have a tendency to misunderstand, so maybe he needs to adjust how he talks to you. he’ll see. but before he can even say anything else, your head falls into his chest, your regular breathing the only sound that fills the room after. he’s perplexed and amused all at once; how did you manage to fall asleep so quickly?

contrary to your thoughts, sae has always thought you were pretty, ever since the first night he met you. even in your private account where you post yourself in hoodies too big for your body and no makeup, clad in sweats—still pretty.

sae sighs, his fingers stroking your hair now that you’re asleep, and whispering in your ear only when you’re not able to hear him.

“if i do that, i think i’ll end up wanting more.” and you’re drunk and that’s not what he really wants.

but he does give you what you ask for, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

that’ll have to do for now.

“so, nothing happened?” sendou asks, bored, as sae carries you on his back as he comes out of the room.

you’re passed out and drooling on his shoulder and he doesn’t really care about that.

“it’s sae, c’mon, did you expect something?” karasu laughs, all of them coming in from the balcony because in the seven minutes both of you had spent in the room, it managed to start raining. “maybe if it was bianca, y’know, then maybe.”

sae ignores all their passing comments, choosing to walk over to otoya, “hey, she passed out, i’m just gonna take her home.”

as much as sae isn’t particularly fond of otoya, he’s probably your closest friend here and he doesn’t want him to think he’s just going to take advantage of you.

otoya’s green eyes flicker to the clock on the wall before he shakes his head, speaking softly so the others won’t hear. “nah, just put her in the guest bedroom. i’ll send her back in the morning. you can head back first.”

there’s an irritation that builds up inside him, but sae maintains his emotionless expression, remembering that otoya knows you much more than he does. “i could just—”

“she doesn’t want to go home tonight,” otoya cuts in, a warning glare in his eyes. “trust me.”

suddenly, sae remembers the last time he met you, your swollen cheek and the way your eyes were glazed over. and he wants to ask otoya what it’s all about but this is about you, and he really shouldn’t ask someone else.

“fine,” sae concedes. if whatever’s at home makes you miserable, he won’t bring you there. “i’ll put her in there before i go.”

there’s a lot more otoya would like to ask sae, because oliver’s not the only one curious at sae’s seemingly odd behaviour. he wants to know what exactly he thinks about you, but everyone’s still around and it’s not a good time, so he sucks it up and lets it go for tonight.

as sae puts you down on the bed and pulls the blanket over you, he gets a brief flashback of the night he set bianca down in her hotel room. you’re both so similar, and yet not at all.

and when he’s about to turn and go, your fingers reach out to tug at the hem of his jacket sleeve, almost effectively making sae’s heart leap out of his chest. your eyes are still shut, so there’s no chance you’re actually conscious right now. still, your mouth opens.

“stay with me?”

sae stills. do you know it’s him? or do you think he’s otoya? either way, you and bianca really are similar, even when you’re not completely awake. so why… why are his reactions so different?

it’s not like he has anything on tomorrow, so it’s really no imposition.

before he knows it, he’s sitting on the floor, right next to where you sleep on the bed, your fingers enveloped in his palm, his head propped on the mattress, his own exhaustion catching up to him.

it’s been a messy week; trying to gather his thoughts about you every single time he’s free, having to talk to bianca and thinking about that, and then coming back just to see oliver and otoya so close to you that it bothers him a little. finding out about you and otoya takes the cake, though.

how special is otoya to you?

the question lingers unanswered as he drifts to sleep, both of you subconsciously finding comfort in the other’s innocent warmth.

the next morning when you wake up, you’re half shocked half happy to find sae where he is, sleeping there peacefully, the previous night’s exhaustion dissipating from his face.

did he take care of you last night? you can only hope you didn’t puke in front of him. that would be embarrassing.

you’d like to stay, wait for him to wake up and talk to him and make sure you didn’t say or do anything too out of line because your memory’s a little foggy, bits and pieces that you can’t quite piece together or even tell if they’re real or dreams.

but you can’t.

you remember what day it is today and reluctantly get out of bed. though, feeling a little cheeky, you quietly grab a small black marker out of the drawer, suppressing a grin as you scribble on sae’s palms, hoping he won’t wake up from this.

a couple hours later, by the time sae gets up, the bed is cold and still undone. it’s already noon, and somehow the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up is you—are you already home? did otoya send you?

but the question that pops up in the forefront of his mind when he sees otoya lazing around on his couch later on is none of that.

and to be fair, otoya has the very same question in his head.

“do you like her or something? y/n.”

otoya is the one to ask, eyes still glued onto his phone screen, typing something out. sae can’t help but wonder if he’s talking to you. 

“what’s it to you?” sae asks. he can hear the snores of the other guys coming from otoya’s room.

otoya shrugs. “just curious. she’s my best friend after all.”

there’s a certain possessiveness in the way he says it that rubs sae the wrong way. still, sae supposes that if otoya’s your best friend, he shouldn’t be too impulsive with his words.

“maybe i like her,” sae says, the tension in the air getting thicker.

“in what way?” otoya still hasn’t looked up from his phone.

“same way you do.”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

otoya scoffs, both of them acting coy with one another. “bianca and y/n, huh? busy guy,” otoya sighs, tossing his phone aside and getting up, walking towards sae, hands in his pocket. both of them are staring the other down, feeling the situation out. “i think i suit y/n better, you can have bianca.”

now it’s sae’s turn to scoff, sharp eyes piercing through otoya’s own. “why don’t we let y/n decide for herself, huh?” he quips, before grabbing his car keys out of his pocket and leaving through the front door.

as he settles down in his car and turns the engine on, it’s only then that he realises the black marks on his palm. 

thank you ᡣ𐭩

somehow, just one look at it is enough to ease the tension on his shoulders.

you really can do wonders.

extras !

otoya’s hostility towards sae was intentional.

sae didn’t try to wash your writing off—he let it fade away naturally.

if yn was sober, she would’ve not been as straightforward as he was in the room with sae. but she definitely would’ve flustered sae a lot more with her playful personality.

the whole time, oliver was live recounting the events of the night to miss manager, all of which are left on read.

if bianca had been there, sae would have been a lot more cautious about his actions and probably wouldn’t have acted too close to y/n.

random fact #1: otoya plays bass, used to perform in a band back in university. part of how he got so many girls interested in him but he was always with y/n which made a lot of them unhappy.

random fact #2: sae has never really been jealous before so now that he’s feeling it, he’s a lot more sensitive to it than normal people.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

[valkyriexo]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾Late night thoughts 003☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Angst | Reader x Han

You sit on the edge of the bed in the cozy cabin, the fireplace crackling nearby. Outside, snow blankets the landscape, casting a serene glow under the moonlight. Your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns of the silver bracelet Han gave you for your anniversary.  It sparkles under the soft light, a beautiful piece that, to most, would symbolize thoughtfulness and affection.

But to you, it’s a glaring reminder of how unseen you feel.

You have always preferred gold jewelry. Its warm hues complement your complexion and resonate with your personality.

Did he forget the gold earrings you wore on your first date?

Or the gold necklace that belonged to your grandmother that you never took off? 

Yet, despite your hints and the numerous photos together, including the Polaroid he carried in his wallet, showcasing your preference for gold, he bought you silver.

And it doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter.

But you've always made an effort to understand his tastes, whether it's his favorite music, the books he enjoys, or the way he takes his coffee. You've surprised him with thoughtful gifts and planned special outings that cater to his preferences, because making him happy is important to you.

You saw him, for him.

....and he bought you silver.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” he exclaims, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he gazes out the window at the falling snow. “I know how much you love this place.”

You force a smile, your heart sinking. You despise the cold. The biting wind, the slippery ice, the snow that blankets everything in a monotonous white—it all leaves you feeling isolated and uncomfortable. Yet, every year, he plans your vacations to the snow-capped mountains, a tradition he loves and assumes you do too. 

“Yes, it’s... beautiful,” you reply, your voice lacking the enthusiasm he hopes for.

To be loved is to be seen, you think. Despite his grand gestures and constant proclamations of love, you feel invisible.

It isn’t that he doesn’t care for you—his love is evident in his actions. But he loves an idea of you that isn’t true to who you are.

With him, you feel like you’re screaming into a void. He doesn’t see your dislike for silver, your aversion to snow, or the small, simple things that bring you joy.

“I booked us another trip for next year, same place. Isn’t that great?” he says.

Something inside you snaps.

“Do you even love me?" You blurt out before you could stop yourself.

His smile fades as he turns to look at you. “What do you mean? Of course, I love you."

You look at him, the words heavy in the air between you. The silence stretches, filled only by the distant howl of the wind outside. 

How can he not understand?

"Do you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with emotion. "Do you really love me, Han?"

He hesitates, his brow furrowing as he searches for the right words. "I...I do... Is something wrong? I thought I did everything right. I wanted to make you happy."

Your fingers clench around the silver bracelet, the cool metal digging into your palm. "But you don't see me," you continue, your voice gaining strength despite the tears welling in your eyes. "You don't see what I love, what I hate. You don't see me."  You take a deep breath and stand as he moves to get closer to you. “Han...You buy me silver when I love gold. You take me to the snow when I hate the cold. You think you’re making me happy, but you’re not. You’re not seeing who I really am.”

Han's eyes widen, realization dawning slowly. "I... I thought I did. I thought... I thought this was what you wanted. I thought you liked these things.... I'm sorry.”

"I can't do this anymore, Han," you say softly, tears now freely streaming down your cheeks. "I need to be with someone who sees me for who I am, who understands my likes and dislikes, who listens to what I really need."

Han looks devastated, his eyes filled with regret. "Please, don't say that," he pleads, reaching out to touch your hand.

But you step back, shaking your head. "I've tried to make this work, to make you see me. But I can't keep pretending that things will change."

He opens his mouth to speak, but you gently cut him off. "I need time to figure things out, Han. Maybe we both do." You shake your head, your heart aching. “You’re doing what you think I like, but you’re not listening to me. To be loved is to be seen. And I don’t feel seen.”

The realization hits him hard. He has been so wrapped up in his own ideas of love that he failed to see the person he claims to adore. He stares at the silver bracelet on your wrist, the one he chose so carefully, and sees it for what it is: 

a symbol of his ignorance.

ઇଓ Author's Note; I'm so sorry, don't hate me

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

ઇଓ Taglist

@kayleefriedchicken  @stellasays45 @beautyandmentalbreakdown @bo-fairykim @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@seunghancore @oddracha @karatlima @everythingboutkpop @grandma143

@ayyonoona @iiriam @palindrome969 @skzruby  @miss-delaneyrose

@kimahreummm @ms-too-delusional @tia827

[hyber-region]

001 - 003: Fawna, Deero & Verdeer

Are you ready to start your journey in the Hyber Region?

Fawna is a fantastic choice for new trainers! Loyal, friendly and possess a strong urge for adventure. They love helping others and will always want to fight for what’s right. Fawna is small but packs a punch and grows into the fun loving Deero and eventually the powerful Verdeer. A grass / fairy lord of the forest who smaller Pokémon will seek out for help in times of need.

The design was inspired by the old legends of the Irish Fianna - Celtic warriors somewhat equivalent to knights and always have a presence in Irish tales and legends. Another inspiration was Robin Hood as I always saw this line as forest vigilantes who want to help those in need. Fawna’s leaf cap evolves into royal floral crown by the time they become their final form 🍃 🌸

[thelonelyarchon]

PICTURE PERFECT (guy) ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ִ ࣪𖤐

PAIRING: artem wing x idol!fem!reader

GENRE: social media au, modern/idol au, lawyer (bodyguard-ish relationship) x client, imaginary love triangle, secret identity (royalty), best friend's sister, love at first sight

SYNOPSIS: when asked about her ideal man during a promotional interview for her new album’s release, y/n, also known as idol 'YEONMI' has only one person in mind: the country's top attorney with a 99% win rate and stellis city’s renowned youngest senior attorney, artem wing.

who could blame her? he’s a picture perfect guy.

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: genshin impact x tot, ooc characters, disregards tot main story timeline, creative liberties (for character backgrounds. i try to be truthful to the og work as much as i can!), swearing, stalking, kidnapping, attempted murder, crack, angst (?) slightly serious au, depictions of cyber hate, alcohol consumption, kissing, female pronouns are used, proactive female lead (chases ml proactively), law terms, assault, mentions of guns and other weapons, disoriented family/family issues, suggestive scenes, sexual innuendos, mentions of crime, mention of drugs . . . (+chapter specific trigger warnings will be posted as the story progresses)

STATUS: ongoing

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ hello!

⋆ ★ expect grammatical errors. some typos are intentional though.

⋆ ★ it's my first smau! expect it to be shitty lol.

⋆ ★ english is not my first language! so if my dialogues sound too stiff, calculated, unnatural, or unfunny at times then you know why :'> i'm trying, i swear

⋆ ★ possible written chapters are marked with a 🌷

⋆ ★ pov indicator: light mode -> y/n | dark mode -> artem (unless other character's pov is stated)

⋆ ★ timestamps don't matter unless specifically stated and small caps letters are intentional

⋆ ★ (kind) helpful criticisms are welcome!

TAGLIST: open! comment down below or send me a message/ask if you want to be added.

CHARACTERS

— foolish ones (y/n’s circle)

— nixx team (artem's circle)

PROLOGUE

— happy birthday

SESSION 1

— 001 - who’s artem wing?

— 002 - congratulations, mr. wing!

— 003 - brother and sister

— 004 - disappointment

— 005

— 006

— 007

— 008

— 009

— 010

© @thelonelyarchon 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY. DO NOT REPOST. REBLOG & LIKE.

[saintbleeding]

[ID: Digital art based on ‘The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp’ by Rembrandt, depicting the anatomy class from MAG 034. At the right of the image, Dr Lionel Elliott sits by an examination table, wearing a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up, reading glasses, and blue nitrile gloves. He holds a scalpel in one hand. On the table, there is a hairless cadaver, with post-mortem lividity down one side of its body, with its eyes and mouth slightly open. The rest of the image is dominated by seven students, who all wear white shirts and blue jeans. Their necks are all conspicuously slightly too long, and their skin and hair are all in tones unrealistically bright and saturated, with each wearing unconvincing smiles and looking at the viewer, except for one student who looks with great interest at the torso of the cadaver, and another student who looks intently at Dr Elliott. In her hand there is a sheet of paper on which are written notes. There is the heading “the insides” in all-caps, underneath which are written “gooey”, “survivable if missing (?)”, and “recyclable :)”. One of the figures matches the description of Not!Graham given in MAG 003, and one of them has transfigured his hand to resemble the hand of the cadaver. End ID.]

this one is directly thanks to @annabelle--cane who truly has Such A Mind

also i realised this wouldn’t carry to ppl who aren’t me, but the dude in the middle with the floppy hair matches my danny design :~) (im crying dw abt it)

[eros-vigilante]

Notes with Dog Doodles (Ezra Story 2)

▪ 003 Fungus, red and green appearance, begins color transformation in the afternoon in its region. Tested as non-toxic through litmus paper, though might contain a certain paralytic effect.

Red Notes: Paralysis symptoms appeared 15 minutes and 23 seconds after purified injection, lasted for about 5 minutes before gradually weakening. No dizziness or nausea side effects. Could potentially be used as an anesthetic, but honestly, it's boring. Don't send me this again next time. Blue Notes: Thank you for the experiment, Medicine Pocket. Different degrees of samples are necessary. I will prepare three more poisonous mushrooms for you next time.

▪ 009 Fungus, light yellow appearance, turns purple when added to an acidic solution. Weakly alkaline. Tested as having level 1 toxicity. May cause fainting or clinical symptoms like skin itching, and fever.

Red Notes: Skin itching symptoms appeared within 20 seconds of consumption and lasted over 35 hours. Without suppressants, there's potential for worsening. No fainting observed. Recommended for combat usage research. Blue Notes: High-efficacy allergy suppressants are in the third drawer on the left side of your office. Please use them as soon as possible.

▪ 012 Fungus, brown in appearance, thick cap, about the width of a palm, similar to local edible mushrooms. Tested as having level 6 toxicity. Ingestion of more than 15 grams can be lethal to adults.

Red Notes: Almost died. Blue Notes: Medicine Pocket! We agreed last time that you can't keep stealing mushrooms from my ecology box! Red Notes: I thought it was an edible mushroom. I was hungry.

GUYS................

ezra is a child don't tag as ship ill bite you

[narukape]

SYPNOSIS (not really)— [name] has a crush. Kohaku does too.

WARNINGS— gn!reader, smau does not follow original timeline, cussing, probably ooc!!, extremely self-indulgent, grammar mistakes, use of all caps(?), "kys" and "die" jokes, angst, one-sided love, tiny love triangle that doesn't actually exist (will explain, i swear), sexual jokes (teenagers smh), amagi rinne. (i'll add more later in case i missed something!)

STATUS— started on february 05, 2023. ongoing!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHAPTERS !! (+ cast)

bitchless bees and their (equally bitchless) rose + privs

001 — old men know too much

002 — spin the roulette!

003 — spin the roulette!

004 — spin the roulette!

005 — spin the roulette!

[ollierandolph]

Mikaelson Ball Attire - Task 003

Oliver would rather be cursed to roam as a wolf again than torture himself by wearing any form of 'formal' wear. This western-styled ensemble is as close as anyone is going to get the werewolf to giving up his 'bayou boy' casuals and ball caps.

[unnamed-underachiver]

003: Flying Business Card

"Are you alright Mr. Ekholm? What was that? What happened? Is that your lover?"

Perhaps it was because Achilles hadn't snapped out of his shock yet, but constant ringing is all he could hear.

His breaths, his heart and the muffled noises.

Everything still feel like it's in slow motion.

"Mr. Ekholm? Mr. Ekholm?"

The woman's voice slowly came through, but Achilles remained unmoving.

"Was that your lover? Did you get dumped?"

"...He doesn't even know me..." Achilles absentmindedly mumbled.

But it was enough.

The woman stood up with her microphone and faced the camera, "And you heard that folks! Genius sculptor made 156 bust sculptures of a man he'd only been admiring from afar!"

She was a journalist.

People started to surround the loud woman and became curious of the camera crew in front of her— filming the fallen Achilles.

Achilles snapped out of his daze, but the chaotic scene around him only intensified. Voices overlapped, questions bombarded him from all directions.

"Why did you make so many sculptures of him?"

"Is he your muse?"

"Why did he push you away?"

Cameras flashed, and microphones were shoved towards his face. Achilles felt his chest tighten, panic bubbling up as the crowd pressed closer.

"GIVE HIM SOME SPACE!" Someone shouted.

'Fuck. I didn't think this through,' He thought.

He refuse to raise his head. He could feel the weight of their stares, the judgement in their eyes, humiliation and embarrassment welled up inside him.

*Huff* *Huff*

His breath became rough, trying to calm himself down but it's not working. The ringing inside his ears continued, and his chest felt like it was about to explode. He wanted to disappear, right here, right now. He clenched his eyes shut and he tried to stop his shaking limbs. He felt exposed and watched, it's suffocating.

"....L-Leave me a-alone..." He mutters but only he could hear himself.

"Excuse me," Helen rushed through the crowd, she knelt beside him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Ekholm, follow me please."

She helped him up and he tripped a little, she looked at him with worry but his head is still hanging down.

The journalists flocked them as soon as they stood up and continued to shove cameras and microphones just inches away from his face.

"Can you tell us the reason why you made the sculptures?"

"Who was that man earlier?"

"Did you really sculpt 156 busts of one man?"

Helen glared at the nearest journalist as she pushed them away, she guided Achilles to the door and Helen pushed it open, guiding Achilles into a quieter, dimly lit corridor.

Achilles leaned against the wall, his legs barely supporting him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control.

Helen said something but he couldn't register it in his mind and just weakly nodded.

Helen sighed and gently pulled Achilles into the office.

"Please have a sit." Helen grabbed the nearest office chair and sat Achilles down.

Achilles, with his head hanging low, kept staring at the scrape on his knees, feeling the stinging pain, regretting that he wore shorts.

'This is all the shorts' fault.'

Helen prepared a cold drink for Achilles as he mumbled, "...the same..."

"Huh? Oh here's some cold water." Helen opens the cap on the water bottle and hands it to Achilles.

"Mhm." Achilles took a sip and he continues to stare at his wound.

'When I cut myself it also feels like this. I guess skin breaks the same anywhere huh.'

Achilles shook his head lightly, as the events of the day played over and over in his mind, with each replay turning more sinister than before. The scrape on his knee seemed to mock him. He doesn't even know how to describe what he's feeling.

Happy? Because he saw the man again and realized he was real? Embarrassed? Because he fell down? Scared? Because of the journalists? He doesn't even know anymore.

"Uhm, Mr. Ekholm?" Helen called Achilles, he raised his head to look at her, "May I ask what happened?"

Achilles looked down again, chewing on the insides of his cheeks. He can hear Helen sigh, "It's alright," She shooks her head, "I'll take care of it, somehow. Anyway, there's no changes to the artworks you want to auction off, yes?"

"Mhm." Achilles nods.

"Huu, alright. I'll get going Mr. Ekholm, you can go and get some rest now. I'll tell Alissa to take you to your place." Helen said and she turns to the door to leave the office.

As she slowly opens the door, Achilles said in a low and shaky voice, "T-Thanks."

Helen paused for a bit, and Achilles looked at her from his peripherals, "No need to thank me, just raise my wage."

Achilles' eyes widen as he looked her in her eyes, "Huh!?"

Helen smiles, "Just kidding." She said as she closes the door.

Achilles blinked.

"Woah, that scared me, I'd have no money to pay rent if she really asks for a raise... I should treat her to dinner sometime," Achilles nodded to himself, "But this really hurts..." He tries touching his wound, "Ah!" But he quickly puts his hand away.

*Sigh*

"Walking's really gonna hurt," Achilles pouted.

~•~

12 days later, in Achilles' studio.

He lay flat on the ground, like a squashed cockroach.

The scab on his knees didn't hurt anymore but he had nothing to do.

His studio felt empty.

It was the first time he went here since the exhibit, he still didn't clean up his studio. Scattered pieces of stone, discarded paint tubes, ripped up canvases and a bunch of crumpled paper littered the place.

He looked to the side, "It feels so empty without the sculptures," Achilles sighed.

For the last three years, the studio felt cramped because of the sculptures. Despite having a hundred realistic faces of the same man he didn't feel anxious, rather he felt more secured.

Achilles smacked his lips.

'Ahh I'm bored. I have nothing left to do. I earned a lot of money from the auction but I payed a lot of loans. I still need to treat Helen to dinner...'

Achilles teared up a little, "What if I just die? I'm broke... I can't even make anything anymore."

Achilles groaned and wailed on the floor.

"Ughh! Waah! At this point I'm not even happy I saw him again! Waah!"

He kicked and tossed while laying on the floor. He really looked and feel like a pathetic cockroach on its back.

*Ting-a-ling*

The bell chimed as the door to his studio opened.

Achilles groaned, "Ughh Helen, I swear I'll treat you to dinner soon, can you not ask me to raise your wage again?"

*Tap* *Tap*

Footsteps can be heard near the entrance.

Achilles' eyebrows furrowed.

'Huh, that's weird. Helen's not wearing heels today?'

Achilles remained unmoving and ignored Helen.

'But... Why is she so quiet?'

Achilles sighed, "Alright fine," He tried to get up, "I'll give you a raise next week— AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

It was not Helen who entered, but a tall, dark and stern man, with his hair gleaming like silver strands and his eyes that looked like fiery rubies, the man in his delusions, the man from 3 years ago— his muse.

Achilles genuinely never screamed this loudly. Ever.

The man only stared at him and then looked away while he cleared his throat.

Achilles was frozen.

Embarrassment welling up from inside him.

"Ahh..." He let out a shaky gasp as he slowly remembered what has transpired 12 days ago.

'I wanna die.'

Achilles gave up on living and went back to lying on his back like a dead cockroach.

'He will leave eventually, right? He did that back then, maybe he'll do it today too,' Achilles thought.

But he stayed still, and so did the mysterious silver haired man.

A minute, turned into five minutes. Five minutes turned into 10.

FUCK THIS SHIT!

Achilles groaned and flailed on the floor once again, "Gah! Now what!? Whaat!? What do you want from me!? I'm sorry I used your face I won't do it again I promise—"

"No."

"To never— huh?"

Achilles stopped flailing and he sat, cross-legged to look at the man in his eyes, but when their eyes met Achilles quickly looked away.

"W-What do you mean? S-Sir?" Achilles looked at the side, the clutter looked so interesting at this moment but he kept looking at the man from his peripheral.

The man stayed quiet and Achilles started to sweat.

'He's seriously freaking me out, does he think I can read his mind!?'

The man leaned on the wall with his arms crossed, he looked around the place and Achilles tried following his gaze.

They looked at the broken canvases, the scattered pieces of stone, glass, mud, clay, the crumpled papers, empty paint tubes and the dried dirty brushes, until their eyes met again and Achilles looked away.

Achilles kept observing him from his peripheral vision, and the man covered his mouth, as if in a thinking position, "Hmm."

'I feel like my whole existence is being judged right now.' Achilles thought.

The man opened his mouth, "You live in a dumpster?"

Achilles was dumbfounded.

He looked around him once again, and he finally nodded, 'Well I guess I'm not so far away from being homeless. If Helen really asks for a raise I'll have no choice but to leave my house and just live here in the studio.' Achilles silently agreed with the man.

The man cleared his throat, "Apologies, I slipped,"

That's even worse!

"Are you my stalker?"

The question hit Achilles like a hammer to a chisel, sending a pang through his head.

He closed his eyes tightly, struggling to compose himself. "I'm," he began, "I'm really sorry, I really—"

"I'm not here for an apology."

Achilles quickly looked at the man in the eyes, "Then... Why...?"

The man stared at Achilles, "Your work," Achilles blinked, "I want to commision you for a series of sculptures."

"Uhh, ehh... Huh?" Achilles blankly stared at the man, "FOR FREE!?"

The man furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly insulted at the fact that he'll receive something for free, "I said commission."

"Oh yeah right you did say that. B-But why...?"

The man tilted his head, "You don't want to?"

"I do! I do! I need the money— I mean I need to pay my bills— I mean I'm stuck in a slump!"

"Which one is it?"

"I'm sorry..." Achilles slumped down once again.

He sighed.

He's not used to dealing directly with clients. Helen normally manages these kinds of interactions, Achilles doesn't even know how the man found out where his studio is at even when the biggest art geeks doesn't even know about it.

But then again, this is better than nothing. Why would Achilles be choosy over his clients when he's already financially struggling?

When in fact, Achilles was the creepy one, making sculptures of the same man for three years straight. He should be thankful the guy was not suing him.

"Will you accept?"

Achilles looked at the man once again and he bit his lip and nodded, "Mhm."

The man nodded as he threw a business card and it gracefully landed in front of Achilles, "I'll come back again tomorrow," He turned and started to walk away, then paused and looked at Achilles, "Please do clean your place up."

With that, he exited, the door chime echoing softly behind him. *Ting-a-ling*

"Ah!" Achilles finally snapped out of his daze and looked at the business card in front of him.

Sleek and classy. The card was black with gold-edged trim, its elegance evident from the moment it landed. The gold edges shimmered subtly under the studio lights. In the center, the text was engraved with a soft, metallic sheen that made Achilles' heart skip a beat.

Aeraki Autumn.

That was the man's name.

[khrused-archived]

edit ft. hera's tattoos & piercings

001. rose tattoo , behind her right here with the stem along the curve of her neck.

002. nipple piercings , on both breasts. mainly barbells but she will have fun with different jewelry from time to time.

003. tiny gold locket , not a piercing or tattoo but a piece of jewelry hera will never be without. gifted to her by bailey.

004. "love me" tattoo and naval piercing , beneath her left hip bone. in all caps and small text.

005. b initial tattoo , on her left wrist. the b is for her daughter, bailey.

006. ear piercings , she has several piercings on both ears. about 3 on the left lobe, 2 on her left cartilage. and 4 on her right lobe, 1 on her right cartilage, and tartus piercing on her right.

[captain-astors]

Hi, can you do 003 for Arima Kishou please?

I ABSOLUTELY CAN! Fun fact this is about the length of Edgar Allen Poe’s The Telltale Heart. God I was hoping someone would ask for him yet, despite my excitement I feel like I'm going to disappoint the Arima likers and dislikers twain, but no matter. 

Mood for this entire thing: Screaming.

Behold the most horrendous thing I’ve ever written. 

How I feel about this character: all caps warning for about a paragraph bellow the first sentence.

Places him in a shoebox with no notable amount of affection nor violence, simply acceptance that this is where he belongs. 

THIS IS A MAN THAT SLEEPS WITH BLANK, WHITE SOCKS ON IN THE MOST NEUTRAL, BORING NIGHTCLOTHES YOU’VE EVER SEEN. AS A CHILD ANY POTENTIAL EXTRAVAGANT FASHION TASTES WERE FORCEFULLY SUCKED OUT AND ABSORBED BY SOUTA LIKE A BLACK HOLE OF REPRESSED HOMOSEXUALITY AND TOXIC MASCULINITY, AND THE SCRAPS OF ANYTHING BARELY NOTICEABLE LEFT BEHIND WERE TAKEN BY RIZE TO MAKE THAT LOVELY DRESS. HIS UNIQUE HAIR COLORS ARE A GIFT OF PITY FROM GOD BECAUSE OTHERWISE HE WOULD BE SO TERRIBLY NON-DESCRIPT THAT ABSOLUTELY NO ONE COULD RECOGNIZE HIM, EVEN IF THEY’D KNOWN HIM FOR YEARS. HIS FACE AND CLOTHING ARE TOO NEUTRAL TO BE IDENTIFIED BY THE MOST ADVANCED AI. GOODNIGHT. Okay. Now that I’ve cleared up the feral screaming, funny story. I don’t know if I’ve ever detailed my terrible facial blindness here (probably not, it’s not a crucial detail about myself) but that applies to fictional characters as well. Things like moles, hairstyles, clothing, and speaking mannerisms are lifesavers. I do genuinely believe him to be a very neutral looking character, but half the reason for my rant above was the fact that I kept wondering “Why is Kaneki fighting himself” for 2 pages of the end of the first manga, and did not recognize him as the same guy for a truly unfortunate number of chapters in the second despite moving on to :re very quickly after finishing the first tg. Then I thought he and tatara were the same person for a while. It was bad. And I don’t know why the glasses didn’t mark out SOMETHING for me, I think I’m just too used to seeing them on and off faces at different times that it just… didn’t register? But I really don’t have any good justification for it. 

I don’t understand why some people hate him so violently but at the same time his adult version falls into the “a guy” category for me. Had his moments, but I definitely could’ve found more constructed sympathy for his plight had the story not been so afraid of allowing the reader to be bored by focusing on someone else that it wasn’t constantly bashing me over the head with “but don’t you care about how KANEKI is affected by this?!?” No actually I don’t, because I understand him well enough from the last hundred-something chapters that have revolved around this guy to have a good idea of what’s going on inside his head. Arima remains a mystery, his choice to put the responsibility of the fate of this all on Kaneki instead of someone else when he passes or trying to tough out his inevitable fate up to interpretation, and I think that’s a portion of the reason he’s passionately disliked by a large portion of the fandom. This is all speculations of a madman, but from my point of view his mistreatment of Haise/Kaneki/Whatever, while ultimately motivated by the desire to exploit, wasn’t the byproduct of explicit malevolence, but rather in that aching pattern of every garden child, say it with me folks, being afraid to/not knowing how to healthily love, or even care about a person in a genuine way that doesn’t end up hurting both people involved. He did care about Kaneki, but first and foremost he felt a responsibility to use him. Tangent to more general and less Arima-focused thoughts, this isn’t to say that writing a character in a way that leaves things up to imagination is a bad thing in writing. In fact, I really enjoy taking the broken pieces of a puzzle and attaching them together into an image of my own liking after being left with little to work with (Hi Shikorae), but the thing about Tokyo Ghoul is that this is the case for a lot of characters. It’s the inverse of the Arcane (the show not the game) problem, instead of every side character being so deeply fleshed out when they don’t always need to be, the vast majority of side characters are left to interpretation though some of them logically shouldn’t, we could’ve been given a little more to work with… maybe. I’ll never know if this is just my sadness over the lack of content for my own favorites when I speak like this but still, I feel like every character I’m attached to is left in this awkward “almost works perfectly but not quite” area as a byproduct of lack of attention, whereas Kaneki does the same but as a byproduct of too much (Juuzou lives in the middle ground good for him). I am filled with righteous fury that is only quelled by unending love for this story, somebody sedate me. 

Not the worst option for “One-Eyed King” placeholder but I’m not even going to pretend I understand the why of it enough to criticize or praise. I don’t think it was necessary if the One-Eyed King was more of a symbolic concept of revolution than a person to begin with but honestly I could just be missing content. Such a cool name for something that seems ultimately underutilized, but I do like the note of Arima being unknown as the One-Eyed King when, similarly, unlike his brother’s, his revolution is a quiet, bitter and clever thing that takes years instead of equally clever but flashy, impossible to ignore. I could ramble for hours on the dichotomy of their plans to take down the circumstances and system of the origin, the merit of taking things down from the inside out and planning for the generation to come, vs. screaming the injustices of the world in everyone’s face, making a mockery of it all until you can’t look away because it’s always been everywhere but now you can see it too. How unfortunate the conclusion of their plans both ended up in the hands of Kaneki to execute, by design or otherwise.

Oh hey back to my issues with the lack of focus, those were almost completely gone with Jack! I love Jack-Arima and half of the reason for it is his dynamic with Fura. I live for the extremely controlled, calm, quiet, powerful and intelligent yet isolated Arima being temporarily pulled out of his almost machine-like world by the aimless yet fun-loving Taishi, who in turn learns what it means to be striving to protect something, and what it means to take a life. My qualm with it? I wish it was longer. It would’ve hurt even more to know he had to live the rest of his short life pressed back into a stifling role if he actually got to learn, even briefly, what it means to live normally. But, something something in order to know how to love you must be loved, the world didn’t raise him right and even that small period of time would have thrown a ripple in the chain of events that led to his choices and bad father figure role. Even so I like to imagine he looks back on those few weeks where he got to try to “live normally” (even if it trailed right back to ghoul extermination) with fondness.

Anyways to summarize Arima is another one of those characters I am choosing to be oh so normal about. I say choosing but I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. Just a guy, but in a way that makes me want to pelt him with beanbags affectionately. It’s funny how little and how much I care about him simultaneously. The disjunction of man, am I right? 

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: And thus the disappointment of everyone commences. Congratulations on being the first person to pick a character I actually have opinions on. I see the arieto in your icon, you’re so right for that, but I flip between seeing eto as aro or shipping her with Itori, Rize, or both, and I want everyone to die alone unless it’s tragic, witnessed, unpreventable or caused by themselves, seeing their lover in their final moments is not a kindness to either but a cruelty. Hello, yes vashwood and lawlight did shape me fundamentally, and I am the world’s most spiteful creature, a russian nesting doll of mutually assured destruction. Anyways I especially want Arima to die alone, besides Kaneki, unloved with that as an exception and staring the one child who latched on to him and hoped for so much in the eyes with the guilt of knowing “I did this to him and because of me there’s a good chance he will get worse from here on out.” Arieto is a hilarious pairing conceptually and personality wise, and outside of a canon universe I can absolutely get on board, the hijinks would be legendary, but in-universe? Eto’s LEAGUES too good for you Arima. Love you, but you could stand to suffer some more. 

Oh also I’m not quite sure if I ship them but Arima and Fura kind of have the energy of guys who kissed once in highschool and have adapted the mentality of “if I don’t talk about it, it didn’t happen.” But they do think about it. So maybe I ship them in the Jack era for 5 minutes of poor judgement, teenage-ness, and the intrinsic desire to make that rivalry homoerotic, and then I’m just here for the bisexual denial. 

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: H a i s e that is his son and he does not know how to raise him and I can’t even say he’s really trying but he’s definitely there and just. Oh I wish he knew how to lead a normal life. Also Furuta, they never met in the parts of the story we’re shown, and they don’t particularly need to for me, but just conceptually they’re such fascinating foils. Living manifestations about everything I love and hate in the non-protagonists of Tokyo Ghoul, they should both burn. The most siblings to ever not sibling. 

My unpopular opinion about this character: I don’t care what power scaling this universe gives us and how far up on it they place him. I could beat up this old man in a fight. I COULD. I WILL. I’M GOING TO KICK HIM DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS, WITNESS AND REVEL IN MY SPECTACLE. Also he has no charisma. None. He’s strong and intelligent, that is all he has going for him. And some nice hips but you didn’t hear that from me. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: The realization. Some kind of spinoff that further detailed the schemes and functions of his collaboration with Eto behind the scenes. Give me the forbidden one-eyed monarchs, not their narrative child. 

Favorite friendship for this character: Oh… the potential of Kureo being a healthy mentor figure (if you don’t elaborate enough on what happened with him teaching arima about quinques, I will assume the best for today), Akira (take notes on how to parent, Arima), Fura (but particularly the potential of them growing more distant and formal over the years as Arima is absorbed by his work and quiet aspirations.) 

My crossover ship: I don’t have one so I’ll just note that I listened to “The Way It Ends” from the Death Note musical for most of this and by god I have never felt so cringe.

Oh wait actually Elendira the Crimsonnail but just the Trimax version obviously. Trans queen.

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

Intro post time!

Hello members of the jury! I am 1moremilgram-enjoyer (nickname: FF), and I’m your

Local Amane Momose Apologist!*

*(Her character is nuanced and cannot be reduced to “a pure soul who’s done nothing wrong.” Understand I am aware of this fact and I am only calling myself an apologist in a hyperbolic sense. With that established, I voted her inno because she’s a pure soul who’s done nothing wrong)

This is a Milgram sideblog because it has consumed my brain. My main blog is 1moreff-creator, which is where my nickname comes from. If you want to talk to me about anything non-Milgram related, you might want to go there.

Planning to post analysis of all MVs and covers. Eventually.

Currently Voting:

-Mikoto: Innocent

-Kotoko: Guilty

New to Milgram? Check this post out!

Master List of analysis and theory posts under the cut.

All Prisoners:

>Everyone is Dead Theory [Long]

>Milgram references in Milgram videos [Short]

000 - Es:

>Hibana Cover Thoughts [Short]

001 - Haruka:

>Two Breaths Walking Cover Thoughts [Short]

>Some Thoughts on his Parallels with Yuno (+0910 parallels) [Medium]

002 - Yuno:

>Sticky Bug Cover Thoughts [Short]

>Some Thoughts on her Parallels with Haruka (+0910 parallels) [Medium]

>Hachiko Statue in Umbilical [Short]

003 - Fuuta:

>Mozaik Role Cover Thoughts [Short]

>Background Characters in Bring it On: the Five Man Band trope, user icons and graffiti patterns. [Long]

>Observation on Fiction v Reality [Short]

>Fire and water paralles between him and Amane [Short]

004 - Muu:

>Otome Dissection Cover Thoughts [Short - Medium]

005 - Shidou:

>Liar Dance Cover Thoughts [Short]

>Small Theory on Shidou's "scientific purposes" Note: I misread the VD, it actually says “selfish purposes” so please ignore the science thing. Shidou was, if anything, killing to save people not from his own family before his wife entered a come or whatever happened. (and some words on another theory) [Short]

>Of German and Triage Tags [Short]

006 - Mahiru:

>Psychogram Cover Thoughts [Short]

>Couch Symbolism [Short]

007 - Kazui:

>Lyric Placement and Background Shapes in Cat. [Long]

008- Amane :D

>Purge March Analysis [Long]

>Positive Parade Cover Thoughts [Medium - Short]

>Fire and water parallels between her and Fuuta [Short]

>Magic credits, Katakana vs Hiragana [Short]

009 - Mikoto:

Disclaimer, a few of these talk about Trikoto, but honestly I'm not sure how much I believe that theory now, so take them with a grain of salt

>Full Theory on the Murders [Long]

>Some Thoughts on his Parallels with Kotoko (+0102 parallels) [Medium]

>MeMe and Control over One's Own Destiny [Medium-Long] (Slightly outdated)

>The Wheel of Fortune in Double and the MeMe spreads [Long] (Slightly outdated)

>Dominant Hands in Mikoto’s videos: Part 1 - Part 2 + Accirax explains why maybe it’s not important [Medium] (Outdated please ignore this)

010 - Kotoko:

>HARROW Analysis [Extremely long]

>On the Jacques Roulet cap [Short]

>Kotoko's Clothes in HARROW. [Short-Medium]

>Some Thoughts on her Parallels with Mikoto (+0102 parallels) [Medium]

Others:

>Explaining how voting percentages (generally) work, with Amane's case as an example. [Short] The voting predictions aged not-great as expected, but the main idea stands.

[mycoblogg]

FOTD #003 : yellow patches! (amanita flavoconia)

yellow patches (AKA yellow wart, orange amanita, yellow-dust amanita & american yellow dust amanita) is a mushroom in the family amanitaceae. they are widespread in north america !!

the big question : can i bite it?? the edibility of this fungus is currently unknown.

a. flavoconia description :

"the cap is initially ovoid in shape, but in maturity becomes convex & eventually flattened. orange to bright yellow-orange in color, it reaches diameters of 3 to 9 cm (1.2 to 3.5 in). young specimens are covered with chrome yellow warts that may be easily rubbed off or washed away with rain. the cap surface is smooth and sticky (viscid) beneath the warts; the edge of the cap is striate, reflecting the arrangement of the gills underneath. the flesh is white. the gills are barely free from the stem, & packed close together. they are white or tinged yellow on the edges, & initially covered with a yellowish partial veil. the stem is typically 5.5 to 11.5 cm (2.2 to 4.5 in) long by 0.7 to 1.4 cm (0.3 to 0.6 in) thick, equal or slightly tapered upward from a small rounded bulb at the base. its color may range from white to yellowish orange, & the surface may be smooth, or covered with small flakes. the base of the stem usually has chrome yellow flakes of universal veil material adhering loosely to the bulb, or in the soil around the base. the partial veil leaves a skirt-like ring, (annulus) on the upper stem. the spore print of a. flavoconia is white."

[images : source, source & source] [fungus description : source]

"so pretty :-0 very strikingly bright !!"

[100postitkakashis]

Kakashi Post-It 003

Redrew a manga cap this time!