#platonic for the ff:

[brynn-lear]

[Brainrot after seeing so much Robin/Boothill comics]

Can you imagine sitting in the dinner table, being the middle sibling of Sunday and Robin. Hesitantly, she brings up that she is seeing someone. In denial, Sunday asks "Seeing in a hallucination sense or a romantic endeavor?"

That one comment made Robin scoff. "Brother, I am not so easily swayed by delusions; I'm more in tune with the beat of life. Which is to say, yes, of course I meant I'm dating someone!"

"What?! Who is this scoundre—"

"Boothill." You deadpan. "His name is Boothill. Shark teeth. Galaxy Ranger. Wanted by the IPC."

"Is shark teeth really the first thing you comment on?!" Both Sunday and Robin reacts, though for entirely different reasons.

Robin pouts. "You don't get to make a cheeky remark like that when your boyfriend barks!"

...

The table falls silent.

"(Y/n)'s boyfriend— What? When? WHO?!"

... If your boyfriend is a dog, your brother might as well be an owl with how much he asked "who?" Needless to say, The Oak family now has to worry about two dark-red themed gentlemen with a penchant for alcohol.

[lucedraws]

Alastor N' Rosie - The Heckler (Comic)

THEY ARE SO SILLY I LOVE THEM

[fuctacles]

@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 1/3 for easier reading on tumblr, but will be posted as a one-shot on Ao3 later | thanks @stevesjockstrap for beta-reading and mental support 💚

T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider by me | Part 2 | Part 3 | Ao3

The shop was never busy. Aside from Valentine’s Day and Christmas, it was a lot of goofing around and packing online orders. And since it was pouring on a Tuesday afternoon, they expected no customers until closing, which was more than okay with them. They didn't choose it because it was popular. They chose it because their younger friends were too embarrassed to bother them here. 

“It’s getting pretty bad,” Steve points out, squinting through the window. “I don’t wanna drive in this weather.”

Robin looks up just in time to catch a flash of lightning splitting the dark clouds outside. 

“Maybe it will let up before we close.”

Thunder crackles above them, and Steve raises his eyebrow skeptically.

“We can wait it out in the pizzeria across the street,” she offers then.

“I like the way you think.”

There’s a loud bang as their doors slam open, letting inside some of the summer storm carnage. Despite the size of the shop, they can feel the cold rain on their faces, and for a second, the sound of the storm is deafening. It cuts off as suddenly as it started but is replaced by loud, displeased sounds of two figures drenched to the bone.

“Holy fucking shit!” a wet rat dripping on their floor curses loudly. He shakes his hands creating a small waterfall down the lapels of his leather jacket. The figure next to him drops down the hood of their jacket with a wet smack.

“Holy shitting fuck,” she agrees.

“They better be selling towels here.”

“Uh...” The unhooded figure, a short blonde, looks around curiously. “I’m afraid not.”

This prompts the guy to peel the wet hair away from his face and look properly around.

“Did we just walk into a fucking sex shop?”

“You did, yeah.”

The two turn to the desk when Steve speaks up. 

Next to him, Robin flinches, and he senses something weird from her, like a brain equivalent of an exclamation mark. But he doesn’t think much of it, assuming it might simply be a reaction to the pretty girl in front of them.

“We have a radiator in the back, I could take your clothes to dry,” he offers the newcomers.

“No, we—”

“Are you seriously going back out in this weather?” The girl looks at her friend with raised eyebrows. He scoffs.

“No,” he admits petulantly.

“I can make you guys some hot tea. It’s not like anything is happening here anyway,” Robin pipes up.

“That would be great, thanks.” The blonde lights up gratefully, and Robin squirms. 

Stave takes it upon himself to gather their wet things, afraid his friend might combust if she comes any closer to the girl. When he’s hanging the clothes, she is uncharacteristically quiet, so he turns to her and cocks his head.

“What’s up?”

She frowns at the mugs she's pulling out.

“Her.”

"Huh? She’s cute, isn’t she?" He grins.

“I think I could hear her,” Robin clarifies. 

Steve straightens up immediately and walks towards his friend. She’s looking back up, worrying her bottom lip under her teeth.

“Do you think they are dating?” He motions to the front of the shop where they can hear the other two talk. She looks at the clothes scattered around the backroom. A denim vest, two black jackets, and a hoodie. Judging by the size and style, they all seemed to belong to one person.

“They could be like us,” he points out, but she doesn’t seem convinced. He isn’t either.

“Or she could not know.”

That would complicate things, wouldn’t it?

After exchanging a few heated looks they trail back to the front and Steve hands the teas to their intruders.

"Thank you." The girl smiles sweetly, though her gaze slides towards Robin.

Steve gives his friend a pointed look but she's too dazed to even flip him off. 

"Thanks." The guy blows on his tea, keeping his gaze mostly on the window and the storm outside. "We'll take a look around and won't bother you guys," he says, giving his companion a pointed look before disappearing into one of the sections. 

Steve knows it’s bad to stereotype but the assortment of strap-ons is not what guys like this usually go for, and his brain gets whiplash with the sudden onslaught of images he's not proud of. The tall guy wearing black and chains getting pegged by his tiny blonde girlfriend? It kind of suits him. He tries not to think about it.

They give them space to roam around the shop and whisper to each other while they finish their duties for the day and start closing up. 

"Guys? We need to close in fifteen minutes!" Steve would feel bad for kicking them out into the storm, but the rain clouds have moved, turning the onslaught into a light drizzle.

It's only after they leave that Steve looks at the tattoo on the palm of his hand. Surprised at what he sees, he shakes it experimentally. The d20 lands back on the same number.

“Hey, look.” He holds it up for Robin to see. “I’ve never rolled a twenty before.”

Three days pass and Steve can't stand it anymore.

He slaps his hand on the counter, making Robin yelp.

“You’re thinking about her again!" 

“I’m sorry!”

Steve shakes his head.

“No. Don't care, no sorries," he says with finality. “We’re finding her.”

"We go to the same school!" she protests. "I think. I mean, I'll run into her eventually!"

But Steve won't take that chance, tired of all the sighing from her brain, and decides to find the girl they've met. He figures the easiest place to find high schoolers is at the mall so that's where he goes.

With all the groups of friends and couples passing by, he feels even more like a loser than usual, being there all alone. But he's on a mission, so he won't let that deter him. 

That is, until one of the faces he sees in the crowd gives him a pause. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize what's familiar about one of the three girls coming at him, but when the memory hits, he panics. Letting his flight response take over, he ducks into the nearest open door to avoid his ex. 

After making sure the group has passed him without notice, he lets himself breathe. He's taking in the shop he stepped into, a record store full of tapes, vinyls, and band merch,  when a voice startles his adrenaline levels back up.

"Well, well, well. How the tables have turned. Running from a gaggle of women, are we?"

Steve turns to find the metalhead who ran into his shop a few days ago, smirking at him.

"Just one." He shakes his head, instinctively looking back behind the glass door. "Really don't feel like running into my ex right now."

"Must be happening a lot, huh?" The man leans on the counter that separates them. "My friend told me you're quite the casanova."

Steve spots his opportunity and grabs it.

"The girl from the other day?" he asks.

"Yes?" The guy's eyes narrow. 

“So you guys are friends?” he adds to clarify before he uncrosses his figurative fingers.

“Yes? Why else would we hang out?”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up under the man's suspicious stare.

“Well, you could be dating.”

The guy snorts.

“Yeah, I don't see the local freak bagging the head cheerleader. The fact that she can even stand me is enough.” Then his eyes narrow again. “Why? You interested in Chris?”

Chris.

“No? Well, kinda, but not… exactly.”

Steve has never felt less smooth in his whole life. And judging by the guy's expression, it shows. Whatever he was trying to sell, he wasn’t buying. His brain scrambles to salvage the situation and comes up with a painfully honest solution.

"Look, I just graduated and my friend group has fallen apart." He yells at his brain-to-mouth wires but keeps going anyway. "And you guys seem chill, I thought the four of us could hang out, or something?"

If the 'you suck' board still existed, he'd fill it out with tallies himself. 

The man doesn't seem convinced and he opens his mouth to tear him to shreds probably, but then somebody yells from the back of the store:

"Eddie! A little help, please!"

And the guy, Eddie, gets reminded he's at work.

"Coming!" he yells back, and on his way there, throws Steve a quick string of, "Great seeing you again, we'll think about it, we know where to find you, bye!" before disappearing behind the back door.

After such a disastrous interaction, the last thing Steve wants to do is go back out into the mall full of people. But staying here to risk Eddie looking at him like that again was the more humiliating option. He turns around, planning to lick his wounds at home before reporting his findings back to Robin. For the hundredth time since finding her, he wishes they couldn't read each other minds. Because all he can think of is making a complete loser idiot of himself in front of a cool metalhead dude, and he knows she won't let him live it down. Maybe the Scoops board will make a comeback after this.

“Chrissyyyyyy!”

“Eddieeeeee!”

The rest of the cheer squad does perfectly synchronized eye rolls when their captain jumps down the human pyramid to greet her friend.

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “You’re early. We’re not done yet.”

“I got some news.” He taps his fingers on the small partition between them, ignoring the cheer practice in progress. “Bad ones and good ones.”

“Bad first,” she says with a decisive nod.

Eddie opens his mouth but then frowns and closes it.

“It won’t make sense if you don’t hear the good news first.”

“Oh my god! Just spill it!”

“So, they’re almost surely not dating.”

“The sex shop guys?”

He nods.

“Okay, and the bad one?”

“Steve seems to be into you.”

“No!” she gasps, scandalized. Eddie snickers.

“Yeah. Sorry sweetie." His smile turns more apologetic.

Chrissy makes a face. Then she keeps making faces until Eddie can’t help but snort and slap her playfully.

“Stop! What are you thinking about?”

“I mean he’s kinda cute, but gives me repressed gay vibes.”

Eddie chokes but she keeps going.

“And his friend? His friend is just hot.”

“Ehh, I guess.” Eddie shakes his palm, making his friend roll her eyes.

“You’ll never understand the beauty of a woman in suspenders.”

“More women in suspenders for you then.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Chris! You going back or what?” one of the cheerleaders behind them yells out, barely containing her annoyance.

“I’m coming!” Chrissy yells back. She turns to her best friend, her soulmate, with a dazzling smile. “You joining in?”

“You know they hate it when I do,” he points out.

“And you love it that they hate it.” She smirks like the evil little gremlin she secretly is.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Eddie grins, climbing over the partition to join the cheerleading squad. A couple of girls groan, knowing what’s coming next but none of them dare to protest. If their captain’s soulmate wants to perform a perfect cheer routine, putting their months of practice to shame, there’s nothing they can do except blame the fates.

Eddie drops his leather jacket on the bleachers and does a couple of stretches in perfect sync with his friend. They grin at each other while mirroring each other’s movements without a word.

“If only you could read my mind during math exams like that,” Chrissy teases.

“Okay, shut up.” He rolls his eyes with fake annoyance. Yeah, it would be convenient, but he got a cheerleading routine memorized in his muscles instead. He’d be complaining if Chrissy wasn’t so fun to be around.

Despite his involuntary knowledge of the routine, none of the other girls fully trust him, so he usually ends up working mostly with Chris, tossing her in the air and catching her when needed.

“You should join us for the game,” she asks as always, after jumping down from his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” he answers as always, patting her head. She huffs, swatting his hand away and fixing up her ponytail, now loose from practice.

“Wanna go grab pizza?” she asks casually and he immediately goes into suspish mode. Chrissy rarely proposes eating out together. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great that his girlie is starting to eat better again, but… He doesn’t let his suspicion show when he asks:

“Sure. Any place in mind?”

She hums, but it’s a short hum. Very 'i-already-had-a-place-in-mind' like.

“The one with the Ninja Turtles poster?”

“You mean the one across the adult toys store?” He raises his eyebrows.

She blushes a fierce red and he knows it’s not because of the sex shop thing. He grins, wide and teasing.

“You wanna see that girl again.”

“Maybe,” she huffs defensively. “Okay, yes, so what?”

“So nothing.” He shrugs innocently. “Grab your things and we’ll go.”

“Yes!” she pumps her hands in victory, a dorky move Eddie’s proud to have taught her, and runs off to grab her backpack. She snatches his jacket before he can, overly eager to get moving. “Let’s go!”

He can’t help but laugh while trotting after her towards his van. 

The inside of the store is brighter than they remembered, what with the sky being clear this time. It looks surprisingly normal until you take a better look at the contents of the boxes on display. A sex shop during daylight just lacks a certain ambiance.

The preppy-looking guy behind the counter doesn't match the vibe either.

At the sound of customers, the guy looks up.

"Hello! Oh, it's you guys." He visibly relaxes, realizing it's not his usual run-of-the-mill customers. 

"It's us indeed." Eddie smiles, confidently strutting up to the counter. "Has anyone ever told you you look out of place here?"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you not to judge someone's sex life by their looks?"

Eddie raises his hands placatingly.

"Fair enough, man. I'll back off." However, the comment made him insanely curious about what a guy like that would be into. Behind him, Chrissy gently kicks him in the ankle, prompting him to take a look around. "Alone today?"  he asks with a curious tilt of his head.

"Yeah, Robin is tutoring after school today. Why?" His eyes narrow. 

"No reason, no reason." 

Chrissy kicks him harder and he smiles through the pain.

“What is she tutoring in? I’m having trouble passing the last grade.”

It takes Steve a moment to answer, like he's measuring how much information he can give away.

“Foreign languages.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Eddie snaps his fingers.

“Perfect! Can I get her number or something?”

The kick is so hard this time it jostles him forward and he glares back at his friend. It also attracts Steve’s attention to Chrissy.

He smiles at her, a bit unsure and shy. It rubs Eddie the wrong way and he can feel his hackles rise. 

“Chris, right?”

“Chrissy,” she corrects, slightly scrunching her nose.

“Oh, sorry. It’s nice to see you again, Chrissy.” He smiles, more genuine this time.

“Uh, you too. Steve.”

Eddie clears his throat, hoping to come off as rude as possible.

Steve looks back at him and his expression shifts immediately. It’s almost a scoff.

“Listen, I don’t just give off my best friend’s number to random guys. But if you give me yours, I’ll pass it on.”

“Works for me,” Eddie says with the tightest approximation of a smile he can manage. “Do you have something I can write on?”

Steve looks around for the pen and notepad that are never in their designated spots and never together. He finds them under the keyboard.

“Here.”

But Eddie isn’t taking the items from him. Steve wiggles them like he would attract a pet or a child, but it doesn’t work. He’s about to make a snarky remark when the guy speaks up first.

“You have a D20 tattoo.”

“Huh?”

Steve is losing his mind.

But then he remembers that he does indeed have one and it’s partially visible when he’s holding out a pen like that.

“Ah, right.” He opens up his fingers and shakes his palm, causing the dice to roll. “It’s my soulmate mark.”

“Dude, that’s so dope.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with marvel and Steve’s throat tightens. “You rolled a twenty, does that mean anything?”

Steve shrugs.

“I don’t know. One of my friends is a Dungeons and Dragons nerd and he told me it’s a luck thing? He freaked out pretty badly when I kept rolling ones on vacation, but nothing happened.” He smiles, fondly remembering Dustin’s panic. 

Eddie hums.

“Man, having a functional D20 tattoo would be so fucking cool. I’m kinda jealous here.”

Steve snorts.

“Yeah, Dustin told me that too.”

Eddie finally takes the writing utensils from him, eyeing him contemplatively.

“I’m guessing you’re not a DnD nerd yourself? Considering you get your info from a friend?”

Steve chuckles.

"Yeah, no. Though I do get a lot of brain chatter from my soulmate."

"Brain chatter?" Eddie picks on curiously. 

"Uh, yeah. I dream up whole campaigns and know lore I've never really studied. The kids go bonkers over it."

"Kids?"

Eddie's feeling both stupid and entranced by the guy. 

"The DnD nerd? Dustin?" Steve says with annoyance that poorly covers up his fondness. "He comes with a full set of other nerds. A party, if you will. They just started high school and no, it's not weird that I know them. I used to babysit them and they just kind of..." He waved his hand. "Stuck on. Like parasites.

Eddie barks out a laugh. 

"They sound delightful."

"They have their moments," Steve admits. Then they both stare at the number Eddie has scribbled on the piece of paper handed to him. 

"So uh, see you around?"

"Yeah." Steve smiles. It's genuine and pleasant this time. But then, to Eddie's chagrin, he looks to the side. "You too Chrissy. Come over anytime. Maybe you need some tutoring too?"

"Uh, thanks, I'm good. Good luck finding a DnD nerd soulmate," she says, her tone weird. Eddie can't blame her. He wouldn't like being so blatantly hit on either. He could already feel her tugging on his jacket. 

"Thank you," Steve says, smile turning a bit wistful. His eyes turn back to Eddie, away from his poor, sapphic-leaning soulmate. Good. He waves the note with the numbers. "I'll let her know you're interested but no promises. And hey, if you're into DnD too maybe you'd be interested in DMing for a bunch of freshmen?" 

"I'll think about it," Eddie manages, slowly backing away, the force behind Chrissy's pull increasing. "Thanks, man. And, uh, good luck with the soulmate thing too!"

"Thanks."

The doors close in front of him and it feels like a curtain has just separated him from a whimsical spectacle.

"What the fuck was that?" Chrissy and Eddie ask each other in unison, albeit in vastly different tones. 

"Huh?" Eddie frowns at his friend. She had already turned around and was pulling him towards the pizzeria across the street.

"Don't huh me! You forgot I was there!"

"I didn't!" He kind of did. For a teeny tiny second.

"You were clearly flirting with him."

"What? No, I wasn't!" he bristles. He'd know if he was flirting with someone.

She looks back at him sternly when they reach a table of her choosing. She plops down heavier than a tiny cheerleader should be able to and takes on a mocking, high voice.

"Oh man, I'm so jealous of your soulmate. Yes, I will play with your kids. Here's my number."

"I said no such thing," he hisses, sitting down across from her. 

"Might as well." She shrugs. "You were interested in him."

"Well, he's an interesting person!" Eddie defends.

"Yeah, the preppy, vanilla high school heartthrob that is clearly not into the same stuff as you, other than his connection to his soulmate," she deadpans back. "Wouldn't have guessed."

"Shut up," he huffs, crossing his arms.

"Eddie, he asked you to hang out with his kids, himself," she points out.

"These are not his kids."

"You're so focused on the wrong details here. Do I have to wingman for you as well? Because I will. Just say the word."

Eddie closes his eyes and sighs. He knows his friend means well but it's just too much.

"Chrissy, stop. I don't need someone who has a soulmate with a matching, kick-ass D20 tattoo waiting for him somewhere. Probably a busty, nerdy girl, too—"

"Ew."

"Yeah, I know. He just seems interesting, and honestly? Expanding the party would be cool. So I might take him on the DMing thing I guess. But please, for the love of gods." He makes fierce eye contact with his friend. "No matchmaking. No wingmaning. Or wingwomaning. No setting Eddie up with a probably-heterosexual dude, who is probably into you."

A shudder goes down Chrissy's lithe body.

"Please don't remind me."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I'm really hoping I'm right about his friend." She drums her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "Maybe it's stupid but I feel like it would magically solve everything. He'd get over me, I'd get to bone his friend, and you'd get a new friend with a kick-ass nerd tattoo." She beams at him and he just can't help but laugh at his little ray of sunshine.

"I hope you're right too." 

[layla-keating]

ALL AMERICAN 6.01 "Things Done Changed"

[hollowingearth]

I'm trying so hard to stay positive but the amount of hate that Aerith gets on twitter is so disheartening, it's making me genuinely wish I had never gotten back into the fandom after Rebirth released and just quietly enjoyed my food the way I did during Remake. Like why would you even play a game where you hate the deuteragonist so much you're constantly making threads and posts about how she's throwing herself at Cloud and how much of a slut she is for moving on from a past love?

You do not have to ship Cloud and Aerith! The magic of FF7 was always that you could choose your favorites! Platonic Clerith interpretations are like some of the best out there too like it's legit top tier! But straight up denying their connection and, much worse, villanizing Aerith for it is not only disgustingly misogynistic, it just makes me question if that person even likes Final Fantasy in the first place.

[angelkissiies]

the last of us masterlist

╰╮nsfw marked with ᖭི༏ᖫྀ , platonic ships marked with ୨୧

e. williams

* love bug ୨୧

* mother of mine ୨୧

* teenage dream

* casual dominance hc

* nsfw hc ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* takes two to toxic ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

ellabs x reader

* pretty little things ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* close call

* softcore

* we fell in love in october

* relationship hc

* raising a child hc

dinabby

* sweeter things

a. anderson x reader

* nectar of angels ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* deep end ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* what, like it’s hard?

* brute

* pancakes for dinner

* prophetic

* california dreamin

* high infidelity

* high fidelity

* playing dirty ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* be aggressive ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* in this light, you’re mine

* my anderson girl

* casual dominance hc

* nsfw hc ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* brat ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* victim ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* mean!dom ask ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* rough / mean!dom ask ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* sweetheart ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* angel eyes ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* sorority secrets ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* emotional ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* and they were roommates ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* linger ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

* tiny surprises ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

[gayshitanddadjokes]

Saw this, loved it, and then it was immediately followed by a thing implying that they should get back together and the allonormativy pissed me off so bad that I'm stealing it

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Ok do the thousands of Bethyl shippers realize it means they're headcanoning Daryl as a pedophile or

[strxnged]

TIGHNARI: # the roots of ambition.

CHAPTER I. In which you meet the Forest Ranger of legend, a former student of your Darshan, who causes you to interrogate your life choices.

Word count. 2.4k. Genre. Found family, gn!reader.

Table of Contents. / Next chapter.

By your age, Eleazar should have affected more than the tips of your fingers. The cureless, Withering-born disease crept from the farthest limbs towards the organs and mind at a gradual but unstoppable pace. Only with the frequent treatment from Nilotpala Lotuses and immersion in the rainforest could your body find the strength to delay the progression of ash scales and numbness across your body. Still, as you knelt at the foot of trees with your hand wrist deep in miniscule roots and a magnifying glass grasped carefully by the other hand, you wished vainly that you might be able to feel the bumps of the fractaling extensions with more sensitive appendages than your own.

You were focused on as much of the texture as you could gather with your palm and knuckle, leading you to ignore, at first, the rustle in the leaves around you of much more than a squirrel or bird. You were faintly aware and had been reminded by peers many times that with the way you became mesmerized by whatever microorganism you found yourself immersed in the “mind” of. However well-meaning the scares they would pull on you to snap you out of it, staying aware of your surroundings really wasn’t a lesson you had yet learned.

A clear voice, however, was enough to rouse you from your trance: “Pardon our interruption.”

You took in a breath—the first you had taken for awhile, you realized—and then stood, turning around.

Three Forest Rangers had gathered a few feet behind you. On the left, a shorter girl tilted her head at you, purple eyes shyly gazing out from beneath green bangs. She had one hand clinging to the sleeve of the middle figure and the other to the corner of her own shawl. To the right of the middle figure, another Forest Ranger leaned against a tree with his arms crossed, looking vaguely interested in you and your circumstances. He also looked like he’d had enough time standing there to make himself comfortable. In between the two was the presumed speaker. He wore a colourful adventuring outfit with a distinguished sash and puffy striped pants. Above lime-streaked dark hair, two fennec ears were erect, alert. Something about this person felt familiar.

“Apologies,” you said, “I didn’t notice you three at all.”

“You’re in a very dangerous area,” the middle one continued. “Not having noticed us is an augurous sign for your safety, so we’d be happy to escort you to somewhere safer if you are willing. Especially since you don’t appear to have a Vision.”

You made no movement to leave. “I have to stay here. It’s for my research.” 

He smiled gently. “My name is Tighnari. You may know me as a fellow Amurta scholar, however tainted my reputation and relationship with the Akademiya may be.”

You told him your name.

“It’s lovely to meet a scholar who loves to get dirt under their fingernails like myself,” he said. “But I’m sorry, it’s just too unsafe for you to hang around here. We’re here to start clearing the nearby Withering Zone.”

The relaxed Forest Ranger stood up straight and interjected, “Gener— Er, Forest Watcher Tighnari, I think it’s about to clear us out first.”

 Sure enough, several scorched animated fungi were emerging from the trees a few yards behind you. You quickly knelt at the roots you had been inspecting a minute before and took a rushed but measured sample of soil, sealing it in a jar of water. You set the jar in your bag, threw the bag’s strap over your shoulder, and ran.

A braver, more well-rounded researcher might be able to pull out a shortsword or a bow in this situation, as the Forest Rangers were doing, but you were not the type of person who could dabble in a lot of skills. Running came more naturally, and either way you would need to abandon the site. Climbing trees, too, was a handy skill, though both of these you were bound to lose in a few years.

That was why you had to hurry.

Dashing past the many trees and up a slight incline, you kept an eye out for a climbable tree. Just a few good, strong lower limbs, and you’d been out of monster’s reach in no time. There one was—you leapt—you reached—you pulled—and slumped your body against the trunk, legs on either side of a limb. 

Finally, you peered back the way you came to see if you’d been followed, or if your friendly hecklers had slain every enemy. You noted with a sigh of relief that all seemed serene for a second. That was, until a Dendro-variant fungi flapped its fleshy wings up the hill towards your hiding spot. You began plotting your next escape.

A flurry of green darts surrounded the fungi and enshrouded it in glowing mist. Discombobulated, it made a clean “bonk” sound as it hit a tree not far from you. The darts hit the monster then, striking it repeatedly until it stirred no more. You observed the forest watching for the next threat that would be destroyed by thin air, or perhaps for your hero.

“Let’s try this again,” Tighnari’s voice said—but this time from very, very close by. You whirled your head to see him smiling a little smugly from a limb above you. How had he— “Your research—does it really compel you to put yourself in such a precarious situation?”

Your mouth gaped at him.

“From how quickly you run and climb, I expect that is the case,” he added.

“The forest is dangerous,” you deflected. “It’s not hard to wind up in that sort of situation, with Withering Zones popping up everywhere.”

“I’ll grant you that,” he said. “Your methods could use some guidance, though.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he added, “I’m sure it isn’t your fault. The Amurta professors aren’t what they used to be. What you need is someone to guide you in the field. Someone to tell you to wear gloves when collecting fungal mycelium samples. The oil from your hands is enough to taint your samples beyond recognition. If you’d like, I can lend you some.”

The last thing you would want to do would be to wear gloves and fully barrier your fingers from any remaining sensation, so you ignored this, and eyed him up and down. “You’re really Tighnari, huh?”

“Well, I think so. Unless I’ve consumed a very, very psychoactive mushroom recently.”

You slowly got to your feet, balancing on the limb with a hand to steady you rested on the trunk. Tighnari, sitting casually on the next limb, was at about eye-level, so you could peer into his hazel-green gaze.

“Then, you were a former student of Sage Naphis. Is that so?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “upon my graduation, he encouraged me to join the faculty. I’d had quite enough of the Akademiya by then, so I politely declined.”

“That seems about right. He thinks the Forest Rangers are in good hands.”

Tighnari looked incredulous. “That’s all?” 

“No,” you admitted. “Actually, he gets somewhat sulky when he brings you up. ‘An unfortunate loss,’ he says. He likes to tell students to beware the persuasion of the forest-dwellers.”

He laughed. “Will you heed his warning?”

Before you could reply, you heard a girl’s voice. “Master, we eliminated the last of them!”

“Thank you, Collei,” Tighnari dropped from the tree, landing eight or so feet below you with ease and addressing the green-haired archer from before. “Let’s set up camp, then, the sun’s threatening to disappear. To the river!”

“To the river!” The third Ranger echoed. As he and Collei proceeded, Tighnari hung back, peering up the tree at you.

“If you’re anything like me, Y/N,” he said, “field research has a way of making you forget the meaning of hunger. Let us take care of you for the night.”

You humphed. “No, you’ve taken quite enough care, thank you. I must heed the warning indeed, and I’m hardly hungry.”

Your stomach, in defiance, growled loudly.

Tighnari smirked, waiting patiently. You climbed out of the tree.

|

⸙

|

“You can’t force me to stay here with you guys until the night is through. Unless you want to help me filter my sample.” 

“We could if we had put something in your stew,” Tighnari joked. At your sour look, he apologized, “Sorry. You were asking for it.”

“I’m confident the General Watchleader would be more than eager to look at mushrooms with you all night,” the third Ranger, whose name you had learned to be Amir, said. “He’s a little strange in that way.”

“Come now,” Tighnari said. “I was getting to that. How many times do I have to ask you to please not call me that, especially in front of strangers?”

“Strangers!” you cut in. “Surely you three are not still wary of me.”

Amir raised an eyebrow at you. “You are certainly strange. Maybe in the way Tighnari can appreciate, though I’m far removed from the whole mushrooms scene.”

“Are you?” you queried.

“I much prefer the study of medicinal herbs.”

“Oh, that’s not so independent of fungal ecology.”

“Maybe not,” Amir conceded, “But fungi are just so complex. There’s no one way to define them, so where do you even start?”

“As I was saying,” Tighnari said. “There’s a great many things I still wish to understand about fungal mycelium, and it would be my utter pleasure to work with you in your research.”

“I—I didn’t ask for help with my research as a whole. Just the sample would be more than enough help.”

“Do you think you would like more help?”

You pondered this. “I… I am limited in my capabilities. I don’t make the best project partner. I like to… work at my own pace, which tends to fluctuate.” You bit back any words that might directly indicate the seriousness of your condition. The actuality of your terminal disease. People acted—differently—once they found out about the Eleazar. You liked the thought of these new, adventurous friends, especially while they didn’t know about your prognosis.

Tighnari sucked air through his teeth. “That damn Akademiya. Shame on them.”

“Sorry?” you said.

“I just—” he shook his head, disappointed “—can’t get past the way they treat students. Not half a thought for real, field safety, and a hell of a lot of energy put into murdering the autonomy of passionate learning. It’s rare that I meet a student these days who has any self-respect left at all. Do you sleep at night, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened. No, you didn’t, but you weren’t about to say so.

“My apologies,” he said. “You’re trying to dissuade me—but it isn’t your fault. What I mean to say is that you would benefit from stepping a little further away from those sage pricks—forgive my language—and accordingly stepping deeper into the roots of your studies.” 

“I do study roots.”

Tighnari scoffed. “Oh, my. Cyno would like this one.”

Collei, who had up until now watched the conversation with silent, interested eyes, let out a giggle. Tighnari beamed at her tenderly, and you sensed that she was a little more family than apprentice to him.

“Cyno?” you asked after a moment. “You mean, the General Mahamatra?”

“Cyno tells the most awful jokes,” Collei explained excitedly. “He especially likes puns. Ooh, they’re so terrible!”

Tighnari’s tone was dripping with sarcasm as he said, “Yes, and those closest to him earn the pleasure of his attempts to lighten the mood.” He smiled more sincerely. “He’s a dear friend to me, and a valiant protector of the law. He’s also the reason Collei came to be a part of our team.”

Collei’s expression returned neutral.

“She’s a complicated Eleazar case. We can only take care of her as much as she lets us,” Tighnari explained. “But she’s found a home here in the forest. Gandharva Ville wouldn’t be the same without her.”

You nodded, trying to keep your face detached. You felt the implication of the words—the unbearable, inevitable future of when Gandharva Ville would forever be transformed by their loss. 

You hadn’t met many other cases in your years. Those who you knew with the disease were either miserable or hiding their misery with saccharine charades. You felt all the empathy in the world for them—but you couldn’t stand their haunting company. A part of you expected that that was how others felt about you, but it was no matter when the majority of your company were emotionless and eternally mysterious microorganisms. 

“As you may or may not know, Eleazar symptoms can be better managed in the forest. Nilotpala Lotuses, a useful treatment for the skin conditions that develop, are also far more accessible away from the city.”

“I’ve heard something of the like,” you replied. ”I wonder why the disease behaves differently.”

“If there’s one thing I hope they’ve taught you,” Tighnari said, “it’s that context matters greatly for all types of ecology and health.”

You agreed.

“And for learning, as well.”

You supposed so.

.”Don’t you think you might learn more—learn better—living safely immersed in the subject matter?”

Didn’t you think so, lying sleepless beneath the stars later that night next to the three of them? Didn’t you think so with the timer in the back of your mind counting down the remaining moments of your life? Didn’t you think so, hearing the ground move beneath your head—so much more alive than you could ever dream to be?

In the night, the loud silence of a million living things was sliced through by one human’s cries. Collei, suffering night terrors associated with clear physical pain, woke Tighnari and Amir from their quiet slumbers. You lay frozen, listening alertly, as Tighnari talked her back to sleep with descriptive details of flowers in the area, of birds soon to beckon dawn, of histories encoded in botany and zoology. Collei had calmed down and nodded off again, but the General Watchleader kept on until you could not hear him any longer. Your thoughts animated and blurred together, and you were lost in green dreams of life.

In the morning, you told Tighnari that you did, indeed, think so.

Table of Contents. / Next chapter.

[aro-bird]

Clawing and biting at the people that made pride stickers for an event my sister went to and the aro sticker was a cake that had a heart with "platonic love" on it like that's somehow progressive just straight up a fuck you to aplatonic aros and loveless aros I hate it here

[currymanganese]

Syd was so disappointed

When Carmy didn't eat the family meal she made on her first day of staging. Her attempts to connect with him have been sailing right over his head since season one.

[rouecentric]

HAHAHA BRAINROT TIME

IMAGINE being isekai'd in genshin as an immortal orphan teenager.

you were tired of the condescending and mean glares that the sages from the akademiya gave you your entire life, as the greater lord rukkhadevata "died" and sumeru was in a period of chaos because of it.

so you ran. ran more than you ever though you would in this life.

eventually, you almost passed out, reaching the fields and mountains of liyue, stranded alone with no help.

of course, as someone who survived alone and remembers their past life, you managed, you also found a small family that took you in, a farmer and his seamstress wife, they had a young daughter, she was at the very least three years old.

with your intellect and memories, you were used to gardening and farming, growing enough for a month and selling your own personally grown stuff to repay the kindness the family gave you. stardew valley and minecraft core if you ask me

you also got a job! shocking, i know, but you became a chef, as in your prior life you had an unexplainable love for cooking and baking.

because of the mora you got, you wanted to make an offering for the adepti that protected liyue, well, you mostly wanted to see xiao but shhh

for the offering, you made almond tofu and a hand crafted doll, leaving it at a shrine built for the adepti. the doll being blessed to have good dreams or at the very least relax the person who held the doll.

what you didn't know, was that because of you, xiao's favorite food became almond tofu and kept the doll you made.

the few following days after, you finally met xiao, as the boy walked around after a fight, multiple bruises and wounds laying on his body. and obviously, you wanted to patch him up, but he tried to refuse. key word: tried.

you weren't going to let the damn guy move on with those nasty wounds on his body bother him, so with stubborness and a little bit of almond tofu, you got to patch up his wounds.

he promised to pay you back, with it being him protecting you from the shadows whenever you'll be in liyue.

of course, you only requested him to hang out with you in the farm at least once two weeks. he hesitantly complied. he still didn't stop watching you from the shadows though

zhongli was curious of the "mortal" that patched up xiao when he came back to him, as both of them know that he doesn't patch them up.

so he observed you. well... observing is an understatement, he was practically stalking you, a trenager that helped an adepti.

after some weeks, xiao hesitantly lets zhongli finally meet you.

for the first time since the archon war, it was.. peaceful with you. like a fresh breeze of air while drinking a warm cup of tea with your favorite person.

the three of you became close, but things always have to happen.

while zhongli was mourning guizhong, you seemingly dissapeared from liyue, only leaving a jade necklace behind.

zhongli and xiao mourned the loss of one of the most important people in their lives together.

you weren't kidnapped or anything, you just resignated from your job and left liyue after talking about it to the family that took you in all those months ago.

they were sad, yes, but they knew you needed freedom and had a right to leave, so they accepted it, the three of them giving you three seperate gifts, an empty journal, a travelling outfit, and a small photo of all four of you together.

you soon after left for mondstadt.

of course, you still wanted to be a chef, so you may or may not have made a moving stand on wheels.

because of that, you were titled by your customers "little chef".

you travelled from mondstadt to sumeru, fontaine, inazuma, shneznaya and natlan back and forth, acquainting yourself with various people from all over teyvat.

of course, after a few decades, you met the traveler and her/his companion, paimon.

with the feeling of pity and multiple connections from all over teyvat, you declared yourself as lumine's/aether's unofficial guide, temporarily closing your moving restaurant to help him/her.

let's just hope that zhongli and xiao aren't mad at you for leaving liyue, though! :)

[fuctacles]

An offer you can't refuse

@stevieweek Day 1: Stobin + Dom!Stevie | T | 2127 | no cw | bar setting, modern au, Steddie, Buckingham, Stobin, Hellcheer, mentions of polyamory, everyone is horny, Eddie is a switch for hot ladies | Ao3 Stevie Week: Day 1 | Day 2 (art) | Day 3 (art) | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

"I hate you so much!" Robin slurs slightly, her hand slapping against the bar. Stevie presses her lips together, trying not to laugh at her distressed and intoxicated friend. 

"Why this time?" she inquires, calmly sipping her drink. 

"You're so pretty!"

"Why, thank you," she beams, but Robin huffs. 

"Stevie," she says, putting her drink away and grabbing Stevie's face. "You did this on purpose," she accuses, though her tone has no real anger. "For not dating you when you wanted to."

"Uh-huh."

"And now you got so cute. But I know what your farts smell like!"

Stevie snorts, but Robin presses her cheeks harder together until her lips pucker out. She stares at them, dark and shiny with the lipgloss she uses. 

"Robs..."

Robin only shakes her head with her hands, making a wild sound of distress and frustration. It forces Stevie to put away the drink and grab her. 

"Stop it, you're ruining my hair!"

Robin grumbles but lets her pry her hands away.

"You hate me because I'm hot?" Stevie asks, amused. Robin huffs.

"I didn't say you're hot," she protests.

"But you think that?"

"Evie." Her fingers flex like they're itching to abuse her hairdo and makeup again but Stevie keeps her wrists in a tight grip. "You know you're hot, you bitch. And I'm stuck here—a 6 with a 10 for a best friend. And if we weren't best friends, if I didn't know about your gross pickle breath, you'd be exactly the kind of girl I crush on, but—!"

"But you're stuck with a hot best friend?" Stevie asks, pouting sympathetically.

"Exactly!" Robin deflates angrily.

"I mean, we can make out if you want," she offers with a shrug.

Robin, in her drunken state, seems to be considering it, before she crunches her nose.

"No, thanks." But then, her frown deepens. "But if we had, like, a threesome? Or foursome?"

"Ooookay." Stevie pushes her away, so she sits fully on her barstool instead of perched on the edge to be right in her friend's face. "We can get back to it when you sober up. See if you still want to see me naked then," she snorts. There was a time when this kind of confession would lead them to the back of their current workplace, but Stevie shares the sentiment that their relationship had evolved in a completely different direction by now. Robin was too much like her sister. 

And she doesn't want to think about a threesome with her sister right now. Not with the alcohol pumping through her to the beat of the music.

It wasn't Robin's usual scene, but ever since Stevie's transition, she's been helping her to get out more. Thanks to that, her experience with women has been expanding. Stevie got something from these outings too, they helped her feel better in her skin, feel like a real woman, and be treated like one. Back when her features were stronger, and her makeup skills lacking, the club lights helped to hide them. Now they both felt comfortable in these settings and knew where to go to to feel safe and have fun.

But sometimes it was nice just to be in their tiny New York apartment, just the two of them, and a mildly amusing sitcom on their second-hand TV. Stevie presses the back of her fingers to her friend's shoulder.

"Do you want to go home?"

Robin shakes her head slowly.

"Not yet. Let's dance for a bit."

Dancing was also something that hadn't been a Robin thing until Stevie dragged her into it. She was still uncoordinated and awkward but after a few drinks, neither she nor other people seemed to care. So they finished their drinks and Stevie pulled her onto the dancefloor.

She usually dragged her friend out to the bar in hopes of helping her find a girlfriend or at least a hookup, but having fun with her friend was more than enough after a week of working in a quiet bookstore. So, with a pleasant buzz fueling their movements, they dance close together, hands laced because they are that comfortable with each other. And since it was a queer-friendly club, someone unfamiliar with them couldn't tell if they were friends or lovers. 

People would bump into them and make offers they have to decline. It's been assumed they were a pair of lesbians looking for a threesome more than once. But since Robin wasn't into dicks and Stevie was afraid of how people would react after finding out she had one, it's always been a 'no'. Even if she liked the idea of having sex with multiple partners. It was tricky being born a woman, and even more becoming one. 

So when someone gently touches her shoulder, she sobers up in case she needs to defend herself and her friend.

"Do you mind swapping up?"

She turns to see a long-haired man wearing a leather jacket, one of many frequenting a club like this. But instead of another man accompanying him, he has a petite blond girl by his side. 

Stevie hesitates and turns to Robin to find out what she thinks about it. She does seem wary as well, but interested in the blonde girl nevertheless. So, hesitantly, Stevie nods. 

"One dance," she decides, accepting the man's extended hand. 

But she's not about to let him dream up impossible scenarios in his head. Halfway through the song, a pleasant mix of energetic and sensual, she leans into him, so she can be heard over the music. 

"If you're hoping for a foursome, it's not happening. We're not a couple," she says before pulling away to watch his reaction. He seems surprised at first before shaking his head. He's the one to lean in now, and his breath hits her neck in a way that makes her body throb. 

"Don't worry, I'm just wingmanning for my friend tonight," he says and they both turn to where their friends are dancing next to them. They seem to be getting into it, hands grasping at hips or thrown over shoulders, bodies pressing tentatively together, shy yet hungry.

Stevie huffs out a chuckle. 

"Same here," she says, raising her palm. The guy seems surprised but he laughs and slaps her hand in a high five. 

"Wanna grab a drink, give them some space?" he offers, and Stevie nods. They give their friends a heads up, and they both seem to be equally reluctant about being left without their human shields, but with the assurance they'll be waiting at the bar, they let them go. 

Stevie's the one to lead the way, and she likes the feeling. To be leading a guy where she wants him. She's always been a people pleaser and still is, but there's something about being in charge that just tickles her brain the right way. Which has been something she's been missing since she's started being hit on as a woman.

"What do you want?" she asks once they reach the bar, before catching her mistake. But the man doesn't seem to either notice or mind.

"A simple screwdriver," he answers without missing a beat. "Just need to let loose tonight."

Stevie nods and flags down the bartender. She orders the screwdriver for him and a strawberry daiquiri for herself. After she's done with the order, she can feel him leaning over her. He's not touching her, his hand dropping to the bar counter, but his presence hovering over her makes her feel caged in. In a good way.

"I'll pay," he offers, flashing his card, and the bartender nods, reaching for the terminal. 

Stevie looks up at him, but craning her neck like that is uncomfortable, so she turns, which in turn makes her chest to chest with him.

"I have money," she protests with a pout. 

"I don't doubt that," he agrees with a nod. Behind her, he reaches out with his card to swipe it through the terminal. It brings them even closer together for a second, and she tries not to fucking smell him because she's not a creep. "But I haven't paid for a cute lady's drink in a while. Please let me have it," he asks, and he's not doing the I'm better than you routine so she nods.

"Fine. I'm paying for the next one, though."

"Of course." He smiles, tucking his wallet into an inside pocket of his jacket. She notices the dimples appearing on his cheeks. They're stupidly cute.

"There's an empty seat there, wanna sit while we wait?" he offers and she nods. No matter how often she wears heels, they never feel easier to deal with. 

He leads her to the stool he pointed out, but then before she can hop on it, he grabs her hips and puts her on the leather cushion himself.

"That was unnecessary," she murmurs, knowing full well she's on the heavier side. She tries her best not to blush while he leans against the bar next to her, in the already limited space. She has a ridiculous urge to spread her legs for him, to make more room, but she kills that thought immediately. 

"Sorry." He looks actually apologetic. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just don't have many opportunities to treat a woman properly. My friend Chrissy, you see," he points his chin to the dancefloor where Stevie notes with pride that Robin's hands are now confidently wrapped around Chrissy's hips. "She's strictly on that feminist lesbian agenda, and while I'm completely on board, of course, I still want to treat someone like a princess, you know? She used to let me..." he trails off, hesitating before he catches Stevie's curious eyes. He sighs. "Okay, so we do have this friends-with-benefits kind of thing? But we're not like, together-together," he starts rambling. "Only when we get really unlucky on dates. She's more women-leaning. And we're both dominant? So I swear we're not looking for a foursome—"

Stevie has heard enough. She pressed two fingers to his mouth.

"It's fine, shut up. We've been thinking about it anyway."

"About what?" The man blinks.

"A foursome." She shrugs, and he suddenly seems to be choking on air. Stevie observes it with amusement while the bartender slides their drinks to them. She grabs her daiquiri. "It's just a thought," she reminds him. "You might not be into me."

The guy blinks. He grabs his glass like a lifeline.

"Why is that?" he asks curiously, but his eyes wander down her body like he already has an idea.

"I have a dick," she confirms what he's probably thinking.

He closes his eyes, and she braces herself for the inevitable rejection. It's happened countless times before, she can handle it once again. Even if he's insanely hot. 

"Damn, I was hoping but I didn't know how to ask."

She blinks at him owlishly, her face falling.

"Huh?"

"Is that weird?" The guy retracts into himself and she can sense another incoming word vomit. Robin has similar tells. "I just think it's hot. I go both ways but I prefer women and I love a girl who's packing. But strap-ons kinda kill the mood for me? Of course, it's fine if you don't want to use it, I wouldn't make you do anything that makes you feel anything less than the beautiful girl that you are."

He holds her gaze for two seconds and then busies his mouth with the drink in his hand. 

Stevie leans on her elbow, eyeing the man curiously. It seems her flirting skills won't be needed tonight. The man was gone without her doing much of anything. 

"You sure you're a Dom?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "You don't sound like one."

He doesn't take offense, to Stevie's pleasant surprise. His cheeks get redder in the neon lights.

"I make exceptions," he says with a shrug. "For exceptionally beautiful women." He's laying it on thick but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't eating it up. 

"And that would be me?"

"Absolutely," he nods eagerly. She considers him for a long moment and he holds up the silence, albeit he goes twitchy under her gaze.

"What's your name?"

"Eddie," he answers immediately like he's been waiting for her to ask. "Yours?"

She moves her mouth thoughtfully, feeling his eyes on her lips before she makes up her mind.

"Miss Stephanie," she says with finality.

The shift is immediate. His pupils blow out and he straightens up, ready to listen to orders and serve. A feeling of power shivers through Stevie's body. 

"Finish your drink and we'll go somewhere quiet."

"Yes, Miss." He nods obediently, sipping on his orange drink.

"You won't be needing your friend's help tonight."

[eruukat]

sobbing crying punching the ground over the way aerith and cloud are platonic soulmates. like. they hold hands while walking or chatting, theyre partners in crime, and elmyra honestly thinks theyre dating but theyre so close that it doesnt rly matter what other ppl think is going on. aerith is so full of life that its contagious and cloud cant help but become more lighthearted + teasing + kind around her. they watch eachothers backs, cloud gives her his thoughts before she acts and aerith inspires him to take action more often and loosen up a little.. they have the running bit that clouds her bodyguard even tho shes lived in the slums most of her life and can protect herself just fine.. idk theyre so sweet, their chemistry is insane

[a-confused-teen-venting]

I remember when someone tried to ask me what was my love language and I didn’t know how to respond because I would hate anything done to me if they were done in a romantic gesture.

[frickingnerd]

rikku's s/o passing out from the heat

pairing: rikku x gn!reader

tags: non-al bhed!reader, heat stroke, romantic/platonic relationship, comfort, visiting the desert together

“woah, are you okay there…?”

those were the last words you heard rikku say, before your view became foggy and you collapsed onto the ground

when you opened your eyes moments later, your head was resting in your girlfriend's lap, as she had removed some layers of your clothes and pulled you into the shade

“hey, you passed out…” rikku greeted you, a sad smile on her lips, as she pushed your hair out of your face

you still felt very weak and it was way too hot to move, but luckily rikku had already prepared a bottle of water for you

“i knew you wouldn't be able to handle the sun in the desert, but i didn't think it'd be this bad…” rikku sighed, as you rested for a few more minutes

your girlfriend had grown up with this heat, but this was all new to you

you felt sick from the heat, but rikku playing with your hair and talking to you made the whole thing much more bearable

rikku felt a little bad for not considering that this could happen. but now she knew that the next time she'd drag you to the desert, she'd have to look after you!