#idk I wrote this to be platonic

[uris9158]

thinking about how kim dokja thinks he's alone in the world and there is no one in the world who understands him or can possibly understand him.

but. there yoo sangah is. yoo sangah who discusses literature with him. yoo sangah who understands kim dokja bc she is very perceptive about people and very empathetic and also bc they have the kind of friendship where words aren't needed. yoo sangah who read every book in the library about kim dokja bc she was genuinely interested in her friend's life and bc she wanted to understand him. yoo sangah who figured out it was 49 and not real kdj and figured out what he did but didn't say a word bc she understood and respected his decision even though she wanted her friend back more than anything.

yoo sangah who witnessed his mundanity and monstrosity both, and loved him either way. loves him despite every irredeemable quality he thinks he has. yoo sangah who wants to be his best friend in every lifetime and live together right next to each other. yoo sangah, his best friend who understands him without words.

[bopbobpbobpbobpbobpbobpb]

Sleepover gone wrong on noesss

Writing underneath

It had all started so well. Simple plan. Simple. Plan.

Step one: become unpossesed

Step two: sleepover

Step three: pie

Step four: wait for mom to go to sleep then get out the ouja board and play fun sleepover games!!!!! Thats how it works!!!! Kris would know!! They've had plenty of sleepovers with Azzy, Noelle and

Step five: have fun and go sleep. (Kris would NOT be sharing everyone else has to sleep somewhere else)

That was the plan!!

It had started of so well. Kris had entered the room and Susie and Berdly, well did what They always did. Argue. It was friendly though!! They always do that it was normal. Noelle suggested truth or dare (a classic) and it was going well!! Bonding!! With friends!!! Kris had missed this. They had missed having so many people in their life, shouting amd screaming, having fun until they were too loud and Toriel had come into their room and remind them to be a little quieter. They had missed laughing and being "sneaky", talking about the most random things and playing little games. They had missed the noise and the warmth of the ones close to you just simply being there. Kris had finally resolved everything with Noelle Berdly and Susie. Until they just made that shit go crashing down.

One thing had led to another. Berdly truthed susie to tell something. Susie got defensive. Things got heated. They both lashed out. Noelle tried to diffuse the situation. Berdly said something. Noelle got pissed. Berdly said something. It struck a nerve. Kris saw red.

The whole room had stared at Kris in shock. Kris's eyes widened. No. No. They didn't mean that they didn't mean tha- Berdly rushed out. Eyes suspiciously shiny. There were only three of them left. Kris, Noelle and Susie. All of them could only stare dumbly at eachother. Shit SHIT. Kris CAN'T go back to before they CAN'T they CAN'T. Panic rose. Kris had just made up with Berdly and they immediately ruined it. Kris went after Berdly, determined to make things right again.

Except ...

Kris stood at the doorway, frozen. How do they do this? Their breathing got funny. WWAD What would Asriel do? He was good at this sort of thing wasn't he? But.. Asriel wasn't there. Only an idiot human and a crying bird on the footsteps. Kris thought about what to say. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it .you're my friend. I love you. Kris flushed no they could NOT say that don't be an idiot. No they had to say what they were sorry about right? Like uh: Im sorry i-

"are you just gonna stand there"

Kris flinched. Berdly sighed and continued looking away form Kris.

"I'm sorry" Kris could only say.

Berdly ignored them. Kris sat down on the steps next to Berdly.

"I didn't mean it" Kris looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"It's not true"

There was a silence.

"But what if it is" Berdly's voice cracked. Kris looked up in shock.

"What if I am" Berdly burried his face in his wings

" I AM a forgettable little bluebird and when I die no one will care because I have done nothing in life and I'm not exceptional at all and I was so mean and I -"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"Berdly I was being a dumb shit who got mad and took things too far you ARE NOT foegettable you ARE exceptional and if you died I would be really sad and track down your murderer and kill them and you're my friend and i love yo-" shit shit shit shit.

Berdly faced Kris.

"What"

"What"

"What did you just say"

"If you died I would be sad and kill your murderer"

"No after that"

"You're my friend??"

"No the one after that"

"That was it"

"KRIS STOP GASLIGHTING ME"

"I'm not??"

Berdly laughed. Kris could not help but grin a little at the sight. Suddenly they stiffened the birb hugged them tightly.

"I love you too kris"

Suddenly there were two idiots crying that night.

[bluemadnessstuff]

Alright

Vladimir Makarov fic idea ( platonic fluff):

This is just a combo of my ideas with others I've seen :v

Makarov keeps hearing about a new weapon dealer through his men. though they haven't been in the industry for long, they've managed to make pretty good weapons and a good reputation. So Makarov tries to make a deal with them, cause why not? When he finally sees them in person he's absolutely baffled to see... a fairly young girl who's definitely a bit messed up in the head.

She agrees with the deal, and he becomes a frequent customer, eventually gaining a more personal bond with her as a now father figure :3

Makarov and his unofficially adopted daughter core:

[trans-queen-administrator]

Honestly? I think Aisha had a crush on Taylor, and it makes her character so much more fun too. Her first meeting she gets to tease her a bunch and then the next time they meet she sees that Taylor is incredibly brutal and idk. I think she's weird enough that that would make a spark for her. Obviously Taylor barely noticed Aisha, and ends up dating her brother, so I think this crush withered a bit and likely made her kinda bitter as a whole, in large part because Aisha hurts a lot when people she wants to notice her don't. She thinks she's over it when Taylor leaves, she's been hurt enough already, and then Taylor comes back and oh no she is not over it at all and so she flirts with her a few times through Gold Morning, and she has an actual emotional moment with Taylor where she tells her it's ok to feel things, and she gave up on the crush but maybe she can still be important enough for Taylor to notice and not dismiss.

And then Taylor is barely Taylor, and Aisha is following her through portal after portal, watching as the fun-to-tease dumbass that made her heart flutter becomes more and more unhinged. Taylor is unraveling at the seams, and she's doing it all alone, even surrounded by thousands of capes for her army she's so alone. Except for Aisha. Taylor doesn't even know Aisha is there, she's never noticed her anyway, but she's alone and she's breaking down and she's still the woman Alec teased her about liking all those years ago. So Aisha does all she can to soothe her even as she stops being her, she sings soothing melodies, fixes Taylor's hair, gently rubs her back. So many things Taylor would never let happen, but that she needs to have. And then the golden man dies, and everyone is surrounding Taylor and wondering what to do with her, and she's going to attack them, and Aisha finally lets her power down and Taylor notices her for once. The joy from that hardly makes up for having her free will stolen and a knife put in her mouth as a threat, and if Aisha could move she'd let out a bitter laugh about how fitting it is that this was the time Taylor noticed her.

And then Taylor is gone. She's not coming back this time. And despite Aisha's best efforts, she can't quite move on from the crush just like she can't move on from Alec's friendship. So she does what she wishes people would do for her, she makes sure Taylor is remembered. She confronts Shadow Stalker and lets her know just how much Taylor mattered, because all those people afraid of Khepri and wanting to forget her didn't see her as tears streamed down her face and blood dried on her skin and her posture slumped like a corpse. They didn't see how human she was, how much she sacrificed. But Aisha did. Aisha saw the girl that she had fun teasing in the apartment slowly disappear. She saw someone so determined that they left their mind behind for the greater good. She saw Taylor at her lowest, and she was the only one who really saw her. She'll never get over seeing the hollow shell of Taylor Hebert breaking down as she sings to her, she'll never forget her. So she has to make sure other people don't forget her. It's her love language, and sometimes it feels like no one else speaks it.

[growling]

due to being both aromantic and aplatonic i feel pretty "eh" to both concepts of friendships and relationships/couples in media (and in real life too but i'm more. discreet about it) which makes interacting with fandom works and such.. pretty frustrating at times

im more averse to romance in real life than in fiction ill have to admit, like, most ships i don't mind. im still more able to engage in shipping in my free time, but that might be because, like, when i ship characters i don't really... do it in a romantic sense i just mash them together, i like deeper bonds/relations/connections like that, and "ship" is a pretty easy term to apply to it as and kinda accurate, i don't know, hard to explain. but when theyre depicted to do traditionally romantic things together or just put emphasis on looooove and go all dovey-eyes in fanart then i must leave. i had enough i have assessed the situation and im leaving

but. i also don't like friendships in fanworks. which sucks so much because this is what, like, most other people that don't like romance gravitate to too!! and they put.. so much, like, moral stuff into liking it too like, saying that if you dont appreciate platonic relationships enough then that means allonormativity rotted your brain or something. many other aro & non-aplatonic people just go "romantic ships are so overdone so heres more art and works where characters are just allowed to stay friends, maybe even friendships are just superior anyway" and like i am happy for you don't get me wrong go enjoy what you like but.... friendships just always make me go "ewww". and unfortunately i cannot just choose not to see it either, platonic relationships are never tagged or anything except on ao3 or something. a lot of media/content (god i hate that term for fanworks..) by aros for aros just focuses on platonic love & relationships instead and sorry i cannot relate and the growler feels a bit alienated. not many people even know that aplatonic people exist anyway and if they do then they dont have the best opinion of us.

so like, god i hate clarifying this i feel like it goes without saying but whatever i don't want to get accused of hurting peoples feelings by saying this: i am not saying to stop making fanfics of platonic relationships or that if you like friends in fiction then i think ur lame or something. im just saying that this is one part of fandom i just, cannot really like. not just fandom either. friendships are everywhere i swear and there is no way for me to avoid those either, and if i ever voice that it repulses me, i get treated like a freak even by spaces that are supposedly aroace & sex/romance-repulsed friendly and yeah it kinda sucks .

anyway friendships are overrated i don't want friends i want evil advisors, loyal goons and homoerotic rivals and fucked up hero-villain and whumper-whumpee pairs and even more fucked up guys with their fates forever entwined and bonded for life close in the way rats tied at their tails are even as they desperately pull and scratch and bite to get away is that too much to ask

[space-apples]

“Are you okay, Scar?”

Scar never wanted to be left behind before. Scar never wanted to be alone before. Scar didn’t think he’d ever want to be away from people, away from connection more than he had already. He didn’t want to do this. Lizzie was frowning, and he didn’t want to do this. Lizzie was asking the very question he had asked so many times— Why, why, why. He couldn’t make himself stop, he couldn’t.

“Oh, I’m— I’m—”

Scar’s breath staggered as Impulse explained more and more, wishing Skizz could have gone somewhere else— anywhere else— for a Heart. His own was beating out of his chest, and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he took out the stick. He had to do this. He had to do this. He wished he didn’t. The explosion of shouts full of righteous rage dragged the fear he tried to keep buried deep and Scar couldn’t do anything else but bolt, making himself even more apprehensive by apologizing. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe.

“Neutral!” Scar nodded his head, refraining the urge to run off again. He couldn’t bear to lock eyes with Grian, he couldn’t, he couldn’t. He smiled weakly.

Joel was yelling at him. They all were yelling at him. He could only hasten his pace, trying his best not to be even more of an idiot and lose health over fall damage. It was hard to focus when the only thing he could hear were screams telling him to take it off. He couldn’t. Of course he fucking couldn’t. He felt sick to his stomach, he felt sick in the head. His body was moving on its own, because of course he couldn’t control his anything he did.

“No— bad! I’m bad—” Grian wouldn’t stop staring at him, the confusion on his face wouldn’t go away, Grian wouldn’t go away, and naturally the one time Scar didn’t want Grian to go near him, the one time— Scar would do anything Grian asked. At least he would if it meant to feel wanted.

(He couldn’t now.)

“Good!” He corrected hastily, chuckling softly. “I’m good!”

Normally Grian saw right through him, and he hoped this time was no different.

Normally Grian would run away from him, and he hoped this time was no different.

It’s never the same. It’s never the same, and that is what will be no different.

[incorrecttom]

dear brother,

summary: or in which you cling on to your brother's jacket. (implied dabi dying or dead)

The man in front of you made you remember of someone distinctly, and that was your brother Touya.

All of his features were the same, the spiked hair, blue eyes which had a flame in them when you were young... he lost that when he was a little older and-

Then he was dead.

Your voice was frozen, legs stuck to the ground. Eyes widened, as you watched the man in front of you. You wanted to run - wanted to erase this memory or whatever you were going to remember from here and -

"...Touya?" Your voice barely made it.

The man looked back at you, eyes softened. "Sister?"

Touya never called you by your name, he called you sister, pea, flower and many other nick names.

It was him.

"You - you are a-" You barely finished that statement before breaking into a fit of sobs.

"-a villain." Your brother finished.

At first when people started to speculate that your brother was in fact Dabi, you didn't pay attention. You didn't want to because it might as well be reality. The reality you wanted to get rid of. And now there was no might-

It was indeed the reality.

"You dyed your hair," it brought back a memory, "you always wanted to dye it because - because you hated him." Your voice still trembled.

"As I always wanted to." His voice was gruff, grim, rigid. He sounded tired, almost as if he'd lost all his hope. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn't.

He eyed you, both of you were still in the alley. He seemed to be in war internally. It was almost as if he wanted to ask you something. "Are...are you perhaps, going to report me?"

And to be honest you were torn - you had done what people expected you to do, and it would be expected to turn your brother in.

While on the other side you wanted to keep him safe, and that would be wrong - after all Dabi is wanted. While Touya, the brother you know might be dead. You wanted your brother back and now you were so torn that you didn't know what you wanted.

"I-" And your voice froze, not sure what you would utter. This was not expected, finding your brother alive.

At least you did not want to know he was alive and if both of you ever met. Don't get it wrong you'd love to meet him - but like this? No, no, no-

"You think of me as a monster, after I have everything done and-"

"To people you might be a monster but to me you are my brother." And a broken child, but you never said that.

There was no emotion, rather his eyes softened. There was twitch on his lips. "...I am sorry-"

"Don't be, brother, no one will know." Was what you said. "And I will protect you with my life."

And that was the last day you saw him. The last time you saw him. And so you pretended not to know the truth, not to know him. Not to care about him-

but how could you keep that facade when you saw him bloodied? And almost dead? When your very brother was dying?

Maybe things would have been different if you'd report him or maybe convinced him to come back. But it was too late now.

All you had was his jacket, which once had his warmth.

[amberizedcasey]

where is the au where The Jaidens are a garage band with jaiden as vocalist/guitarist, bad is the bass guitarist, foolish is the drummer and cellbit is the keyboard player?? and bagi would be their "manager" (since they are no a oficial band and everything) while tubbo would help them with the equipment and the lights (cause the gêmeos do mistério and him are siblings) and one day they would got a gig at the local bar (mayne cause tina, bagi almost girlfriend is the daughter of the owner???) and jaiden makes roier (her roomate at collage) go since its their first time presenting to a real crowd besides cellbits siblings and pets, and and roier and cellbit aren't friends in this they kinda have this strange rivarly because of something idk and then roier see him in the stage and yk butterflys and sparkles and shit and then they date and thats it

[tacticalhimbo]

PALE STATIC EXCHANGE... 2! Posting this a bit early, but I'm very excited to have been able to dip my toes into @palestaticexchange this time around! It's very cool to see how alive the Disco Elysium fandom is.

That said, this piece is for @glitch-critter , who asked for "stuff relating to HDB's experience/psyche, especially with regards to electrochemistry/addiction".

WORDS: 2.3K

I really liked the prompts provided, and I thought it would be cool to kind of explore how relapse and recovery can manifest in forms different than the baseline addiction. As such, it would seem Harry has found himself over-correcting himself in regard to his work...

I hope you do enjoy it <3

Also, let me know if you’d like a more permanent copy of this, too! I’m always happy to provide a PDF version of the writings I do :3

Coastal winds were much tamer as they rolled through the densely packed buildings of Central Jamrock, only just able to sustain themselves as they lapped around the perimeter of Precinct 41. Harry wouldn't be here, if not for Kim. It was he who'd defended him to Vicquemare. He who'd attested to the idea that Harry could get better, with a little guidance and a lot of patience. He who'd truly believed in him, despite everything they faced. Creeping along his senses was the smell of blood shed by belief and held together by vengeance. Remnants of a decades' long war, and its lasting effects on the human psyche—both those that were in tact, and those that were already fragmented—as the world evolved around them. The stillness of the air was dry, just as was the mouth of the disco detective who'd found himself falling into familiar habit. Eat, sleep, work, party—

[LOGIC] No, not anymore. You've given that up now.

[VOLITION] You are a changed man. Or so you would like to have others believe.

Harry is a changed man, or so he would like others to believe. He would like to believe it.

Yet the familiar dryness that consumed Harry did not feel changed. Nor did the aching that settled into his musculature, drawing the thickened fibers back like that of a bowstring, arming them—arming him—to snap at a moment's notice. His stomach felt a familiar sickness. One that had consumed him during the infancy stages of the Martinaise investigation. A horrific hangover, but this one was different. It was dry. He was dry. And that irritated him. Thick brows knitted as his psyche wandered to the idea, briefly leaning into the comforting embrace of familiarity of outrage. It was easier, after all, to be mad at the circumstance than to navigate it. But… It didn't feel right. No, he wasn't angry about it. Perhaps a part of him was. But Harry? Him? He was uncertain. Afraid. Every time he wet his lips in consideration, he knew he would not be able to stop himself. Not when—

[ELECTROCHEMISTRY] It's a miracle you even lasted this long. It's like something has snapped in you—a nerve ending. You've lost yourself, Harry. Truly, lost yourself. And god knows how long it will take you to come back this time.

The subtle emphasis makes his skin crawl as his head shakes, hands pausing to linger under the chilled water pouring forth into the sink basin. He sighed, looking to the dingy mirror before him.

Through the speckles of old debris and matted dust, and past the droplets of dew that form with the arterial spray of the sink's faucet (a sign that the mechanism, much like the rest of the restroom, is in need of repair; it has been for as long as one can remember), the visage that greets Harry is… healthier. It invokes a sense of pride not too dissimilar to when he'd first whispered his name—the one he had chosen, not the one he was given—and truly seen himself for the first time. Like the waves, it swelled briefly before crashing down. Fell upon the invariable signs of his past habits. Like looking through the bottom of a liquor-filled glass, it was hazy; a deluge of desperation and need encapsulated by bloatedness and swollenness. Sat neatly among the discolored planes. Pallid skin darkened and reddened as the blood vessels beneath the skin remained agape, prepared for consumption.

[ENCYCLOPEDIA] Telangiectasia. Small blood vessels sat near the skin's surface. It is natural for them to sit so high, but normally they remain unseen until there is an increase in blood flow.

[INLAND EMPIRE] Recall how one's features become rosy when hearts begin to flutter, or how the sun's warmth seems to sit upon the apples of one's cheeks like a comforting blanket.

[DRAMA] There is an art to this.

[LOGIC] There is not. This is a different sort of happenstance. The events that have led to your flushed appearance are not a simple point of life, nor something to be proud of.

But it is, a simple point of life. Accentuation of Harry's simple existence. It is not something he can change, especially as that nausea begins to grow in his gut. His mouth feels full of cotton; his body so writhe with tension that he begins to tremble and grow dizzy. His nose feels like a small balloon in the middle of his face. His tongue feels swollen and snail-like, floundering about amidst tainted teeth as trembling hands cusp beneath the faucet and draw splashes of water toward his lips.

[ELECTROCHEMISTRY] Drink, but it will not replace what you need. No, this is nothing, brother. The best cure for a disease like this is indulgence. Morphine, cigarettes, rum… You need them again. You will not survive without them. This? This is—

[COMPOSURE] Embarrassing.

[AUTHORITY] Weak. How do you expect anybody to take you seriously? Nobody would listen to someone so pathetic.

The taunts were met with the sound of the door slamming; a minute signal in the grand scheme of things. It went unnoticed by those in the wing's hallway. To them, it was business as usual. If not Harry, then Satellite-Officer Vicquemare. If not Vicquemare, then Captain Pryce.

[RHETORIC] The police aren't there to mess up; the police are there to preserve the mess.

[ENCYCLOPEDIA] Says the professor of Ecole Normale de Revachol. Someone has been reading in his spare time.

[LOGIC] Or simply observing with a clear mind.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] This is a dangerous line of thinking to be falling down. Your past airing of grievances with the RCM has earned you several stern talkings to. In his office, Captain Pryce grimaces at the clutched papers in his aging hands.

[RHETORIC] It was addiction that saved you. Easier to blame the abstract than to examine the system.

A shiver. Harry wasn't the only one struggling. He knew that, even before his days of total sobriety. This sort of culture was normalized; expected of its officers. Many of his habits he fell into through the hands of his coworkers, even if they were not his introduction to the idea. Of course, things were different now. After his outburst, and the disaster in Martinaise, the RCM began cracking down on the use of substances among its officers. Many, like Harry, suddenly found themselves thrust into the true responsibility of duty. Conscious and aware to the severity of their workloads. Many quit. Many more fell into old habits and were systemically demoted until the work no longer supported their needs. And those, like Harry, leaned into the work. Buried themselves in mountains of paperwork chasing that adrenaline-fueled high by doing something—anything—to feel alive.

Yet they never did. Harry never did.

Time blurred past and he was, effectively, the same old corpse he always was. A puppet of the RCM's agenda. The failed Dick Mullen. The swaying body strung from the rafters, dancing along to the fluttering shimmer of the disco ball.

Then, there is nothing. Only warm, primordial blackness. An inordinate amount of time passes, not even measurable by the distant, rhythmic technological beeps.

[PERCEPTION] Hospital monitors? No. Alarms. An alarm.

[LOGIC] It must be morning. We should get up.

[VOLITION] We shouldn't. We can't. It's much too difficult.

The soft rustling of sheets.

[PAIN THRESHOLD] Easy…

Muscles ache and the silence is inevitably broken by a low groan. Sunlight filters in through dusted curtains, particles coming to fill the air as a heavy hand finds itself upon the alarm clock beside him. Equally heavy feet find the floor, though remain unable to hold the body above them. In a quick sequence, Harry finds himself on the floor, slumped and slouched in an all too familiar position. The aches stop, albeit briefly. Like a fly to the ointment, his conscience sticks to it. Chases it as the limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering awakens itself once more. He is on his feet again, cotton cloth sliding across the floor as his body wills itself to the bathroom.

A mirror hangs above a bent, not broken, sink. Languid hands find themselves upon the faucet, though are gentler in the way they manipulate it. Hot water sprays from the stem and steam covers the mirror. Harry cannot see himself, just the outline of a man.

[CONCEPTUALIZATION] There is an irony in seeing the image. It was not always like this.

[VOLITION] Those days are long gone, now.

Cloth falls from the man's frame, though it remains obscured by the apparatus before him. He slowly reaches his hand toward the surface of the mirror…

[INLAND EMPIRE] You're certain you wish to do this? You may not like what you see there.

[HARRY] I don't care.

A deft motion. The condensation on the reflective surface gives under the palm that wipes it, leaving in its path a clear view to the tired visage that stares back. To the naked, pallid flesh that rolls from a slumped frame. Hair highlights various pathways, traveling down between taped and tucked mounds and rolling along the rumbling stomach, and continuing through the fog and beyond the sink's barrier. It traverses the adhesive edges of Harry's binding (he's still thankful he has learned this alternative; not only does it keep his natural form, but it allows him to wear his shirts open with pride) and over his shoulders. Down thick arms to the bruised knuckles that hold the porcelain lip of the sink. It flutters out, then reappears upon his rounded jaw, mutton chops growing thickened around his lips. He's due for a shave, but a part of him enjoys this rugged look. It's… different. He's different.

He's happy.

[COMPOSURE] You're exhausted.

[SAVOIR FAIRE] You've dropped the toothbrush. Again. Your hands feel foreign to your own body.

His eyes follow dirt-stained grout lines down to the floor, only to find that sad little toothbrush dried beside the trash bin. He's exhausted. Creaking and groaning, Harry bends to discard the brush; opts to simply swish some mouthwash and try not to think of the burning sensation that draws his nose to scrunch and his eyes to water. He does it twice. Perhaps to mask the fact he has not properly brushed and will have to save that act for after his shift. Perhaps because he feels he deserves the ache; it invigorates him. Begins to bring him back to life and pull him from the vice grip weariness holds on him.

But it isn't enough.

Not as he washes himself in the shower, nearly tripping over the tub's lip as he climbs out afterward. Nor as he finds himself slumped against the wardrobe door, idly flipping through his clothing options and looking for his RCM jacket.

[PERCEPTION] It… should be here. Why isn't it here? Don't tell me we've lost it again.

[LOGIC] Nonsense. We brought it home. It is here, just not put away.

It's not enough as he waits for the toast to pop from its apparatus, where the sudden click and ding nearly makes him crawl out of his skin. Coffee spills on his shirt, bringing him back to the wardrobe once more, digging around for a new shirt and tie. Back to the kitchen. New coffee in his cup. Butter and jam on cooling bread. Crumbs dust his facial hair, only unsettled from their rest when he reaches to scratch a persistent itch. It is then when the realization clicks.

He's exhausted. He is unmoving. Those early morning aches have not been shaken, and have in fact only worsened with his moving through the morning routine. His mind has been quieter; nearly absent. He can barely recall what he's done and what he hasn't, with the only clues being the visible changes in his appearance that signify—at the very least—that he's done the basics and cleaned himself. But that's just it. If he can't even recall this, how in the world could he find himself responsible for the safety of others. How could he find himself amidst the greater world around him, with dozens of eyes on him—some pleading, some scrutinizing?

He'd done it before, under worse circumstances… but he wasn't that kind of animal anymore. He didn't want to be that kind of animal anymore.

Which is why, with a swaying physique and a hoarseness in his voice, he found himself on the phone with whichever unfortunate soul would find themselves on the other end of the line. Unfortunate, not for taking in his call-in, but for having to present it to Vicquemare and Pryce.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] Early morning ire. Slender knuckles knock on the door to ask permission to enter; it is granted. From his throne, Pryce sneers at the individual before him. His brow twitches, his posture stiffens.

[CAPTAIN PRYCE] What the hell do you mean he called out?

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] A pregnant pause. The avoidance of eye contact.

[UNKNOWN] He just did… Said something about feeling under the weather.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] The response was faint. Nearly whispered as the other end of the reigning duo entered with a stack of papers.

[JEAN VICQUEMARE] Who called out?

[CAPTAIN PRYCE] Your star pupil.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] Jean's posture slackens and he sneers. It's evident the sarcastic jab was more than enough to clue him in. Yet there is a subtleness in his eyes that almost suggests concern. He sets the papers on Pryce's desk then walks out without another word.

Shoulders slump and a ragged sigh escapes as Harry undoes his tie and discards it, absentmindedly tossing it to the coffee table. His shirt follows as he sinks into the comfortable contour of the couch. Tired eyes slip shut, coaxing the surrounding musculature to relax and begin a rippling effect. He melts, and for once he can feel the day passing.

And for once, he does not care. He deserves this rest, and nothing can convince him otherwise.

[yeehawkins]

Ricki Tikki MacTavish

Back home for once, Soap brings Ghost over to his flat. A small visitor awaits them

Coming home is an exceptionally rare luxury. And an even more rare occurrence is Simon Riley actually having any time away from the field. Johnny wanted to seize his chance to get to know the other more. Plus, he knows Ghost has nowhere to go, so it was only right to invite him over to his place. Really, it was more of a plead than an invitation, as old habits rarely die with that man. 

As they approach the apartment door, Soap pulls out a monstrosity of keys.

"How many fucking flats do you own?" Ghost states in astonishment.

"Just the one,'' Soap responds.

“Going to be here for ages trying to get into it.” Ghost states, rolling his eyes.

“Have a little faith.” Soap grins, almost magically flipping to the correct key with one cacophony of jingling, shaking it some more in triumph.

A little more jangling of keys, and Soap unlocks the apartment door, gesturing for Ghost to go ahead.

Ghost couldn't help but gawk upon entering. A few stains on the carpet notwithstanding, the place was downright pristine.

After tossing his bags by the door, Soap takes a look at his welcome guest.

"What? Never seen a clean flat before?" Soap teased.

"Well I certainly didn't expect one from you" Ghost retorted.

"Think I got the name by being filthy?"

"Oh I know where you got the name, slippery bastard" Ghost lets out a guffaw then picks up the shorter Scot, scooping him up in a hug. This knocks the air out of Soap a bit, and gets him blushing.

"Easy with the goods!" he laughs.

"That was easy"

Their banter is cut short, as there was someone else in the apartment. Ghost puts down his friend, and turns around. A small, fluffy tabby cat has made its presence known. The cat is quite loud, and continues to meow until Soap leans over to acknowledge her. He immediately melts at the sight of his beloved cat, scooping her up in his arms.

"Ricki! Oooh I've missed the hell out of you! My wee lady hold down the fort alright? Not give Ms. Darcy any trouble, did ya?"

Ghost watches as Soap devolves into a babbling Scottish mess at this cat. He lets out a chuckle, almost endeared at the display. "Didn't tell me you had a missus."

"Ah Ms. Darcy's just my landlord. Takes care of Ricki when I’m gone," says Soap.

"I mean the cat, MacTavish."

Snapping a bit out of his loving stupor, Soap tucks Ricki under his arm like a football. "This here's Ricki. My gran couldn't resist her face, but her allergies certainly could. So I took her in," He pauses to scritch the top of the cat's head with his other hand.

Ghost gives a genuine smile. His eyes go between Soap and Ricki, and raises his eyebrows at the man, clearly asking a question.

“Go ahead. Unlike me, she doesn’t bite.” Soap smirks, now holding Ricki like a baby. 

Ghost almost seems apprehensive to pet the cat, not wanting to spook her. However as he moves his hand towards her, she pushes her face up to his hand, purring loudly. 

“Aww, looks like you’re allowed to stay,” says Soap.

“Didn’t know there’d be a test,” Ghost replies contently, with much of his focus now on the purring cat. “Good to know you’ve got someone looking out for you off the job”

"Aye, really we look out for each other.” Soap beams, using one of his hands to now rub the cat’s belly. “Ricki canny hear a thing. Deaf as all, but fuckin’ loud as all too. Wouldn’t have her any other way”

Ricki takes a gentle swat at Soap's hand, shooting him a look. Ghost retracts his to avoid being included in getting hit.

“Guess the welcome party’s over” Ghost jokes. 

Soap sets Ricki back down on the floor. She goes right back to meowing once on the floor, circling Soaps legs.

“I believe somebody’s hungry,” Soap states. 

Once he has a briefly clear path, he begins walking toward the kitchen, Ricki weaving in and out between each stride. He opens up a cabinet, and looks back over at Ghost.

“Well come have a sit, Simon. You’re allowed inside more than 5 feet, you know.” Soap hollered. 

Truthfully Simon was in a bit of a trance, never much of the social type and perfectly content just watching Johnny and his cat do their thing. Hearing his name definitely snapped him out of it though. He walks over to the large couch in the living room and sits, still watching the other man and the cat in the kitchen. 

Johnny takes out a small bag of cat food, but looks down and notices her bowl is still full. 

“Oh you cheeky shite!” he laughs, looking at the cat staring at him, bending over to scritch her head. She simply yells back. 

“Fine, fine, a treat for my girl,” Johnny happily sighs, putting away the cat food and grabbing a smaller bag. He pours out a few treats into his hand, which prompts her to spring up onto the counter, somehow getting even louder. 

Johnny waggles a finger in front of her like a dad. “Ah ah ah! You know the deal.” He then points downward. 

Simon’s eyes widened. Upon this gesture, Ricki sits down, still looking up at Johnny and yelling of course. Johnny laughs and hands her a treat, placing the rest down on the counter for her, which she happily eats. He then walks over to the couch to join his guest, who is not at all hiding his surprise at what he just saw.

“You trained a cat.” Simon states in shock.

“Yep.” Johnny responds matter-of-factly, leaning back on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“And I’m the one outta my mind for drinking bourbon?” Simon laughs.

“Yeeep.” Johnny replies in the exact same tone. The two then catch each other's eyes, and exchange laughs. They both settle even deeper into the couch and let out content sighs, Johnny leaning his head back and shutting his eyes with a smile on his face.

[nonbinary-eddie-munson]

I was thinking about how the run away with me au Robin and Steve "should we get divorced?" conversation comes about:

Theyre about 23 and Robin comes home in tears after another break up. The reason: Robin had asked her girlfriend of 8 months, Lorraine to move in with her and steve. Lorraine assumes this means steve is moving out and when Robin clarifys that no Steve is staying, he's an important part of her life theyre married for chists sake. Well Lorraine doesnt take that well, says she isnt going to spend her life playing second fiddle to Steve.

This isnt the first time a relationship had ended for either of them because a partner hadnt been able to accept that Steve and Robin were a package deal. Things had been especially rough for them romantically in the first couple years of their marriage. It wasnt until a particularly awful screaming match between Robin, Steve and Steves first real boyfriend, that they were able to admit their relationship was incredibly codependent and unhealthy. Steves boyfriend had been upset when Steve had cancelled on him for the 3rd time in a row because of a Robin Emergency™️ and decided to confront Robin about it while Steve was in class. Things escalated quickly when Steve came home early from class to find them arguing and immediately took Robins side. The argument and Steves relationship ended with a slammed door, a lot of tears and a new rift in Robin and Steves relationship.

It took a lot of long conversations with Carina and Marjorie, Steve working through his toxic masculinity enough to go see a therapist - He and Robin made a deal that theyd both go talk to someone about, you know almost dieing "do you think me being fucked up by what happened at starcourt makes me weak steve?" "No of course not!" "Well then why would it make you weak?" - and a summer spent apart (Robin taking an internship in rome to study latin) for them to sit down and have a long conversation about boundaries and ground rules for how they would navigate their relationship as well as dating in the future.

Steve and Robin agreed to both take a break from dating while they worked through their respective traumas, and figured out how to navigate their relationship in a healthy way. Things werent easy, the both of them occasionally backsliding into unhealthy behaviors, more than a few nights where one of them spent the night with Carina and Marjorie in order to have space from eachother. But eventually they get their shit figured out and decide to brave the world of dating again. Steve and Robin both have their share of flings and short lived relationships but nothing so far seemed to stick. That is until Robin met Lorraine.

Lorraine was funny, sweet and a little bitchy. They had immediately clicked after being introduced by some mutual friends from school. Robin really thought things with Lorraine were going to work out. Steve and Lorraine had gotten on like a house on fire, she had slipped into Robin and Steves dynamic easily, trading jokes and light hearted jabs, cooking breakfast together on days Lorraine would stay at their apartment. Robin had fallen hard and fast, she thought she had finally found someone who accepted that her and Steve were a package deal. So 8 months in when Lorraines lease was ending Robin (with agreement from steve) asked Lorraine to move in. Things don't go to plan. Robins dreams of a future with lorraine are shattered. She goes home broken hearted.

After Robin has cried herself out, her and steve cuddled together on the couch Steve is the one to broach the topic. Robin immediately bursts back into tears before he calms her back down again saying he doesnt want a divorce but he also doesnt want to hold Robin back, doesnt want to be the reason she cant find happiness. Robin replys by saying if anyone is holding the other back its obviously her, steve gave up everything to protect her afterall. Steve calls bullshit -years of therapy and he can finally say that word without cringing- says he would do it all again in a heartbeat, that she doesn't owe him anything. They stay up all night talking about it, about what the both of them want from their futures. Neither can see a future without the other. they're platonic life partners, one day they'll find their someones who can accept that and if not well, they'll always have eachother.

Of course they do find their someones in the form of a charming if infuriating metal head and a brilliant, sweet, and badass reporter. Through trial and error the four of them figure out how to navigate life together. They all live happy ever after.

Robin and Steve celebrate 30 years of marriage with divorce papers. They'll always love eachother but now they dont need a marriage to keep eachother safe. They dont need a marriage to stay as platonic life partners. They have eachother and they have Eddie and Nancy. They have everything they need.

-

Lmk what you think! I'd love to have someone to scream with about this AU and bounce ideas off of :D

Tagging by request <3 @ramyayaya

[thedrdtpokemoncollector]

Me after predicting the whole Xander + David thingy in a half-finished angst fic i wrote in december 2023-

OMG????

[the-writing-frog]

I Love You, I Think

I love you,

But not like that.

I want to be with you,

But not like that.

You make me feel so much,

It's hard to describe.

You make me feel

Safe. Wanted. Home. Loved.

I want to love you,

Give you this feeling too.

I want you to feel home,

Give you this feeling too.

I love you.

More than a friend,

Not like a lover,

I just love you.

I wish to be

The reason you smile.

I want to be

The reason you laugh.

I don't know how else

I'm supposed to say

I love you,

I'm home with you.

But I'll just keep saying,

"I love you,

I love you,

I love you."

[pulchrasilva]

Thought too long about non-standard relationships where you don't bother with a label and there's no "confession of feelings" it's just deep care for each other and a determination to stick together and intimacy with no regard for what type of relationship it is. SOMEONE make it stop before my little brain explodes from the gay feels

[thrilling-oneway]

There’s something about how a lot of project sekai fans approach found family that just. I dunno, rubs me the wrong way i guess? I feel like a lot of people are missing the point.

950 something words of me rambling like hell about frienship under the cut

Sibling HCs are very popular in this fandom and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing (i even have a couple myself) but the way people treat them is very nuclear, and agh I just really feel like you’re missing out on the nuanced platonic relationships that come with found family.

Like found family doesn’t fit conventional “nuclear family” dynamics. That’s the whole point! You can have a deep familial platonic bond with someone but that doesn’t always equate to siblings. I’m talking about this more in a fanon sense, because in game the Tenma’s and Toya consider each other like siblings, but I feel like especially on twitter people are overdoing it, for lack of a better term, with the sibling HCs.

I’m not trying to say it’s bad, have your fun HCs no one’s stopping you, but so many people I’ve seen recently where like every platonic ship they have (especially m/f ones) they consider as a sibling duo/trio/etc. And you are seriously missing the point of found family when you are building a whole extremely nuclear mum/dad/siblings dynamic between cast members. It’s all about the unconventional yet still familial bond. Found family is so good to explore because of the fact it isn’t the “default” family structure. You aren’t quite siblings or don’t have a parent/child dynamic, but you are family!!

Like just to talk about the fact that sibling HCs are something I see constantly with platonic m/f relationships as well. I know not everyone does this but so many people completely write off m/f friendship - either you are a couple or you are siblings. And maybe this is because of heteronormativity and the expectation that men and women who are friends must have underlying romantic interest in the relationship and if they don’t then they’re biologically related but maybe it’s not but still! Don’t overlook it. Normalise platonic m/f relationships they don’t need to be romantic or familial they can just be friends and I feel like this is such an underutilised dynamic in prsk fanon content, which is unusual considering it is so fucking prominent in the game particularly with VBS and WxS.

And even outside of m/f, platonic relationships of all gender combinations within the fandom are so so so overlooked. “But they’re not” okay you can’t just say “they are all besties <3” and get a pass because it feels like you have a very idealistic and blatantly unrealistic idea of how friendship works to the point it feels almost ingenuine. Like placing them all on that same level of frienship when friendship is so nuanced and truthfully you’re not gonna be that close with everyone. You grow distant from people or just never grow that close to people but these interactions can still be incredibly important even if they aren’t connected to a deep personal bond. On the other side of things you can have an extremely deep bond and close attachment to someone and it can be entirely platonic and just platonic. Not romantic not familial not queerplatonic. It’s just friendship and this game is all about platonic relationships even if it does delve into ship tease at times. Literally the theme that ties everything together is unity and friendship and community.

And this is getting offtopic from found family so I now present to you: Wonderlands x Showtime - the unit whose underlying theme is literally found family and I am willing to fight people on this. According to wikipedia (unreliable source, i know), found family is "a non-biologically related group of people established to provide ongoing social support". And while this applies to every unit in the game to some degree, it perfectly describes the WxS dynamic. Yes I know Niigo fits that definition too but their overall dynamic is a lot more centred around emotional support and some of their dynamics are still somewhat detached because of their individual situations and mental health problems. But WxS is about the social support aspect and it is staring you right in the face. Everyone in WxS was a weirdo or outcast or alone in some way but they find solidarity and a place to belong with each other. Nene was too shy and insecure to face people, Emu wanted to be taken seriously, and Rui was shunned and outcast for who he was. Tsukasa had a dream to become a star, Emu found him and hired him so she could fulfil her dream of revitalising the stage, which led to Rui being brought along and finally giving him somewhere where he was accepted, who got Nene to go with him so she could overcome her insecurities and perform again. They have each other when they don't have other people, they support each other in achieving their dreams because they share the same passion even if their goals lie on different paths. And it's just so fucking good. They aren't siblings, they aren't love interests* - they are friends. They are found family by definition and by example and it's not nuclear - it doesn't fit a familial structure at all they aren't siblings, it isn't a parent/guardian-child dynamic. It just is and that's what matters most.

Uhh I'm still bad at ending these things. Platonic relationships in Project SEKAI are important and you shouldn't water them down to fit nuclear family dynamics or idealistic expectations and accept that they have nuance and aren't always going to be perfect without flaws. Also heteronormativity bad, m/f friendship good, WxS is found family and you can anon hate me on that (also that was meant to be part of a different essay that has been in my drafts for months but the demons won).

If you made it this far congrats. I'm sorry you put yourself through reading whatever the fuck this is.

*i know a few of them have ship tease but shhhh it's not nearly as prominent as other units like MMJ/VBS anyway because guess what - the unit is much more focused on the platonic stuff. this is literally why L/n and WxS don't have as clear quote-unquote "most pushed pairings" as other units do because frienship is the main theme for those two units. this is not confirmed at all (according to colopale there is no ship tease in the game) but it doesn't take much to work out.

[vividlyaro]

i love my friend SO much. like. i adore her. i have a short conversation with this girl and suddenly i'm thrown back into being a middle school kid at summer camp, trailing behind her on a rocky sidewalk, eagerly absorbing the conversation.

does she know she's there in my happiest memory? with the summer breeze and the music, and the cluster of kids, laughing and dancing?

and maybe it's the nostalgia clouding my memory. homesick for a time that never existed, and all that.

but then i talk to her again. and i remember this is real. and she exists. and she is wonderful.

and we have changed, and we have grown, and maybe i will never dispel the ache in my chest that longs to be face to face with everyone i love.

but she has grown into someone amazing. the kind of person who makes me want to be something good. the kind of person who makes me feel like i already am something good.

and maybe we'll see each other soon. in the meantime, we have words.