#doesn't have to be romantic!

[vapemaster42069]

Part 1 | Part 2 (you are here!) | Part 3 | Part 4

“So you’re telling me,” Pearl giggled, trying to speak through her amusement, “that you two–don’t laugh at me, I’m serious!-- that you two got kidnapped, and you,” She pointed to Scar with her stick, a half-toasted marshmallow impaled on the end, “convinced them you were soulbound, which saved you from turning into drumsticks,” the stick jerked over to Grian and the marshmallow slipped a little from the force, now dangling onto the tip with and half-hearted corner, slowly oozing it’s way to the floor, “and the experience actually soulbound you?”

“I– well, what else was I supposed to do?” Scar stammered, a grin cracking his face almost in two. Grian cackled, falling over onto him, knocking the marshmallow into his hair with an impressive display of balance, his feet flailing, hands clutching his stomach, lower end nearly slipping off the one of the logs they had dragged around the fire earlier.

“Maybe–” Grian snorted, pausing to compose himself while Scar grabbed his shoulder, doubling over, “--maybe. Don’t! Fall in love with the bird!” He leaned back, clumsily squirming so he was leaning his back on Scar’s front. It was quite an effort, as Scar was still struggling to breathe around his laughter.

“I couldn’t help it! You’re just too cute!” He hugged Grian to his chest, resting his chin in his messy hair.

“Scar! Stop that!” Grian’s cheeks burned red, the blush only half-masked by the low lighting. “I am not cute!” 

“You’re a little cute.”

“Pearl! Don’t join his side!,” He grabbed Scar’s hand in his own, “See, you’ve even turned my sister against me!”

“They’re not wrong, though,” Mumbo called from where he lounged by their cave entrance, keeping watch on the surrounding forest through the blizzard flurries, his back to the fire, “You are pretty adorable, especially when you– oh, look, he’s doing it now! When you get all annoyed, and your face scrunches, and–,” He ducked, dodging a marshmallow viscously targeted at his head, “-- And your fathers get all poofy–,” He dodged again, laughing, “Stop wasting the marshmallows! There better be some left when my shift is done!”

“Impossible!” Impulse grabbed the bag, snatching four marshmallows and spearing them on the tip of one of Scar’s arrows, “Knights, new mission: eat all of the marshmallows in the next 10 minutes!” He tossed the bag over the fire, across the circle to where Pearl sat on her tree stump. She was wrapped in Mumbo’s coat, which miraculously didn’t have any marshmallow bits on it, a seemingly-anti-marshmallow-debris aura surrounding Pearl and about two feet on either side of her.

“Aye, aye!” Pearl saluted him, catching the bag and loading another marshmallow onto her stick.

“Oh– You jerk!” Mumbo glanced away from the dark forest in front of him, towards Impulse, “Treason!”

Impulse raised a fist, turning as well, “I serve the king!”

“I don’t,” A hooded figure, previously hidden in the shadow of a tree, stepped into the light, brushing snow from their shoulders.

“I– WAAAAAAH–!” Pearl yelped, slipping backwards off her stump and landing shoulders-first on the cave floor. She reached for a sword that wasn’t there before glancing up, suddenly acutely aware of her party’s casual lack of armor. All but Mumbo, on guard, and Scar, who didn’t wear much armor as a marksman anyways, had settled down and disrobed their heavy guards and weapons.

“Oh, hi, Cub!” Scar called. 

Mumbo held out a hand, fistbumping Cub as he passed, “That was a good one, we finally got someone!” His mustache wiggled mischievously.

“You two–” Pearl hoisted herself up onto her elbows, “-- are spoons.”

“Yep!” Cub slid his hood off, shaking the length of his white cape to get the remaining snow off. It wasn’t a knight’s cape, but it did bear the crest of the king on the lapel. Several potion bottles clinked under his light blue robes. “You the newbie?”

“Yeah, uh. I’m Dame Moon, or Pearl. Boatem sect, Eighth season, this idiot’s–” she nudged Grian with a foot, “--older sister.”

“Cub. Nice to meet you.” He turned back to the cave entrance, beckoning with a gloved hand. “X!”

“Heyo,” a shape in the dark responded.

“Stop that!” Pearl, from her spot on the floor, startled again. Grian grinned at her.

“L.”

“I hate you,”

“Awww, you love me.” 

Pearl rolled her eyes, hauling herself back onto her seat. The figure in the dark ducked into the cave, stooping a little to fit. He kept his hood up, unlike Cub, but his cloak required no brushing; even in the dying firelight, the knights recognised it as a mage cloak, specifically one for a bone mage.The garment, made of a black fabric as deep as the void, was lined with white runic patterns that met and convoluted on various points just above the fade-point– the part where the cape began dissolving into mist, gradually becoming more shadow than fabric. The hood, which sat low over the mage’s eyes, altered specifically for this mage, was similarly filigreed, with long slits down its length that revealed a pale white inner lining, a cowl resting over the lower half of his face. “‘Sup.”

“Hey, X!”

“Impy.” he nodded. His voice was soft, a contrast to his looming figure and noticeable, gigantic iron cavalry sword strapped to his side.

“Impulse, you know Isuma?” Mumbo shifted, turning so he could both see out into the forest and into the mouth of the cave.

“Impy?” Scar mouthed at Impulse.

“Shut up,” He mouthed back. “Yeah, I worked with him a while ago, slew a dragon. You still got that egg, X?”

“Hatched last winter. She’s doing well, hanging around the Lunar Mountains for now.”

“Nice.”

Cub stepped forward, “We’re here because of a rogue mage that’s been terrorizing the locals over the mountains. They’re probably a bonemage, like X here, but we’re not certain. They could be a lost mobborn too, like an illage-humanr or piglin-human mix, something with supernatural strength and speed. Not one of us, though,” He nodded to Scar, “I checked.”

“So you’ve met them?” Scar leaned forward, lifting his chin off Grian’s head, “What bonemage is powerful enough to fight off a vexborn alone?”

“Not alone– it was a vexborn, a bonemage, and a small but enthusiastic dragon named Suzie. And we’re working on that second part. In fact, that's why we’re here! And for your marshmallows, of course.” He stepped towards Pearl, who offered the bag of sweets to X and him.

“How magical are we talking here? They would have had to have a decent amount for you to assume a born or mage, but is it more innate or drawn from something?” Pearl warily glanced to Grian, determinedly keeping her voice nonchalant. They hadn’t teamed up in their Watcher forms for a long time, but if this person was as powerful as Cub made them seem, they might be forced to.

“X, you got this one, you got closer.” Cub’s response was muffled by an indeterminable number of marshmallows in his mouth.

X stepped forward, shifting the low trim of his hood out of his face with an annoyed flick of his head. The firelight flickered over his face, casting shadows that danced from the curves of his cowl up to his eyes, which flashed in the night. “Oh, sure! I got the impression that it was more innate, nothing like a Bonemage, where we have to borrow power from whoever’s around us. But, however they functioned, they weren’t really like any born I’d met,” He swiveled a little, glancing down to retrieve a book from his pocket. “I’ve been doing some research, and there’s a possibility– only a possibility at this point, so there’s no need to panic– that this individual could be a Watcher.”

Pearl again glanced to Grian. The Order probably knew about Grian’s Watcher form, but Pearl had neglected to tell them– and the Order didn’t take kindly to being lied to. She had been able to mask her magic with the help of an inhibitor necklace, hidden under her tunic, but nothing would be able to mask the look of a biblically-accurate sphere of eyes and rays of divine light. Probably. She’d burn that bridge when she got to it.

“So let’s say we’ve got a Watcher on our hands,” Impulse leaned in, “because we both know you wouldn’t have called us if they were anything else. Or brought in Isuma, for that matter. What sent them off the edge? And what can we do about it? We could take this person down without force if we can snap them out of whatever triggered them,”

Grian nodded. “Watchers nearly never go full-angel-mode unless we’re provoked. If we’re dealing with an open, full Watcher, something bigger is almost certainly happening behind the scenes that we have to be ready for.”

“That was my thought, too,” X sighed.

“So what do we do about it?” Mumbo said, still peering out into the dark, “Or, what is it that we’re dealing with?”

“That’s why I’m here. There’s something stirring here, something old. The bones of the earth herself are shifting. I fear something may awake,” He gently grabbed a marshmallow and chomped into it with gusto, ignoring the tension in the air, “and me personally, I don’t want to encounter something that can vaporize us by thinking about it.”

“I’ve noticed that too,” Grian reached into his pockets, taking out a mossy stone, “The grass has been telling me her secrets.”

“... the grass has what?”

“The grasses hold the key, I’m telling you. There's this tall grass, one I’ve been searching for, one that the trees whisper about when you walk past them really quietly. They hold knowledge, these grasses.”

“Grian, have you been talking to the grass?”

“Yes?” Silence.

“... uh. Ok. Let’s table that revelation for now,” Impulse sideyed him, “Game plan. Do we go for the Watcher–”

“--Probably Watcher–”

“--Yes, thank you X. Do we go for the Probably Watcher, or for the ancient stirrings of the world itself, first?”

“I’m going to be honest, neither of those sound like good options,” Scar wrapped his arms more tightly around Grian’s torso. “I’m more worried about– Well. If one Watcher got triggered out by this great stirring, who’s to say that it won’t trigger another? Is it the best plan to get close to this situation, knowing we could make it worse?”

Cub glanced at X, his eyes shifting between him and the knights’ seats. “That’s… the difficult part of this. We need your help, but we can’t get any other Watchers too close. Gods know we don’t want to fight anyone who gets taken over by this thing,” He paused meaningfully, looking Grian in the eyes, “we need the knights, but we need anyone fey out of action. That includes me,” he turned to Scar, “you, your soulbound,” to Pearl, “and any other Watchers who may or may not be in the room with us right now.”

“No.”

“I– no? Mumbo?”

“If they’re out, I’m out. I don’t know about the others here, but I took an oath with the Order to stick together.” He looked at Cub, defiant, but his eyes softened at the worry on his old friend’s face. “I’m not fighting for something that’s going to put my fa– my friends– in danger.”

Pearl nodded. “I’m with him.”

“I’m out too. We fight together, or not at all,” Impulse said. He eyed Cub. “And more of us are fey here than you seem to think. You’ve managed to approach the most fay-filled section of the Order that there is, dude.”

Cub sighed. “I guessed as much. You’ll have to investigate the backside of this, then, if you’re still down to help. Find who this person is, what they want, what’s causing all of this, while X keeps them from destroying the entire countryside.”

“Will you be able to hold your own?” Pearl plunked another marshmallow onto her stick, “You already said this person managed to hold you two off, how will you keep them back?”

“I should be okay,” X said. “I’ve already messaged a few mages from sects in the area. We should end up with one of each of the branches, if everything goes smoothly, with an extra Stonemage to spare.”

Impulse stood, marshmallows abandoned. The arrow he had them speared on was smoldering. He ignored it. “Good luck then, X.” He shook his hand. “And you, Cub. We’re a call away if things go bottoms-up.”

Cub smiled, adjusted his glasses. “You always are. Best of luck to you, knights. We’ll be off, we have some Stone–” he glanced at X, who shook his head, “Soul–” 

“Nope.”

“-- Earth?”

“Bingo.”

“Yep, Earthmages to meet.”

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[mellozheist]

The Red means I love you // Tragedy of 3rd life Animation

Watch The animation on Youtube >:D

@inthelittlewood 

[redysetdare]

enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.

[itsscottiesstark]

Am I the only one that actually agrees with Neil about season 2 being "quiet, gentle and romantic"? OBVIOUSLY not the final 15, but the rest was terribly sweet and so so so romantic.

The dancing? "I thought we carved it out for ourselves" "so did I"??? "Our car"????? Are you kiiiiidding me????

And- hear me out. What's more romantic than this:

[fernsnailz]

dont worry he caught him this time 👍

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

man. the deep Affection and Tenderness in your heart when you look at your best friend - am i right fellas

[beanghostprincess]

Zoro and Sanji are each other's confidants because despite constantly saying they can't stand each other, they trust the other the most when it comes to stuff they know for sure the rest of the crew won't like. They're each other's "nothing happened" moments. Sanji knows about Thriller Bark. Zoro knows about Wano. Sanji knows about all the burden Zoro has to carry. Zoro literally has Sanji's life on his hands. They trust each other with the things they can't tell their captain. They're his wings so they have to rely on each other to keep the crew from falling. There's just something about the unspoken trust and bond these two have that makes me go insane.

[arowitharrows]

when will people stop trying to explain different types of love to loveless aromantics as if it's a new concept

[the-magpie-archives]

"I thought you might be lost." is one of the most delightfully romantic things Jon ever says to Martin.

It's so devoid of blame, of derision. A truly neutral statement, soft, no touch of sarcasm, no hint of cruelty. A gentle hand reached out to pull him from the depths of the lonely.

Such an unusual phrase for Jon, especially at that time. There's no definitives, it's entirely open to correction, open to being wrong. 'I thought' not I knew. It comes from Jon's perspective, he holds himself out to rejection, something that's hard to do at the best of times.

'you might be lost', not you were, not you are. He respects that this may well have been a conscious choice, that Martin really could have chosen to abandon him, preferring the lonely to the lack of certainty in their relationship. But it retains the softness and love, the worry and care. He was worried that Martin might not be able to find his way back, but not willing to drag him out of a place he might have chosen to be.

And that's not even mentioning the softness with which he says it. In an intense moment of great urgency and importance he's able to drop his fear, stress, and anger, in an attempt to reach the man he loves.

It's such an elegant moment of love; in a second Jon is willing to let go of the gravity of the situation and put all of his being into connecting with Martin, and when it comes down to it, it works.

[chiarrara]

sorry but hinata and kageyama blocking the twins fast attack together was the most romantic thing i've seen in a strictly non-romantic context

[elnathsstar]

Listen, I am aromantic, but it's getting cold and dark and I so desperately want somebody who I can cuddle under my covers with, somebody I can teach to dance, somebody I can drag outside at night when we're supposed to be inside, and it's so cold that it could start snowing any minute, or maybe already be snowing, and then we would go and sit in the dark at the lake with the lights while listening to Taylor Swift and sharing my headphones, and then dancing around outside to mirrorball and not caring who sees us because we are so madly platonically in love with each other that we only care about the other. I want somebody to drag around charity shops while I plan my Halloween costume, and my birthday outfit, and the outfit for the various Christmas parties I will take them too- even the one hosted by the church that I usually end up just sitting in a side room watching whatever Nativity movie they put on for the entire time. The kids would ask if we were dating, and we'd just look at each other and giggle, while my parents and grandparents who are watching us bicker over an Uno game are thinking about how pure our love is. Kisses are always an option, but never pushed for, and even if the other person liked me romantically they would be okay with and understand how I don't feel the exact same way, but I still love them so so much. Like a platonic soulmate. We would share clothes, and I'd save them a piece of my birthday cake, if they weren't already there for it. We would go on walks together, and they would be one of the first people I call when the cold weather is affecting my mood or my health, and then they would come over unprompted with something sweet and a hoodie. We would both chill on my bed, not caring about how cramped it is or the fact that my bed is a high rise so we can't sit up straight, because we don't have any trouble with being close to the other, and on days where it may be hard to be physically close to someone, they would sit back patiently and read me a chapter of whatever book we had picked up, pausing to add their own witty comments and applauding me when I guess what will happen next accurately. We wouldn't even necessarily be 'dating'- and we wouldn't label what we had as romantic, despite the dates and the kisses and the cuddles, and we'd both be fine with it. We would just exist together, in the same space, comfortably.

I want to be wanted.

[skull-turtle]

for the LAST TIME, what does "having a crush" even mean

[enbeemagical]

normalize being a little bit in love with your friends

normalize being not at all in love with anything

normalize love being confusing and weird as hell

normalize love not being romantic

normalize love not being

normalize not loving

normalize loving in the wrong way

just. normalize being unapologetically yourself

[kissingfictionalwomen]

Free my girl, she did do all of that shit but have you considered that she's cute? A little cutie patootie? My precious little honeypie sweetie darling sugar angel wifey beloved? Have you considered that?

[possamble]

sorry if i seem way too obsessed about the slightly one-sided nature of farcille i eat that shit up when it's actually equally requited but one side feels like they're not as important