#the angst prevails

[bliss-in-the-void]

The way Suguru looks at Satoru has me by the neck already, but the way Satoru looks at Suguru?? Oh my god.

That’s his entire world right there. I don’t know how to explain it but these frames just scream “all Satoru sees is Suguru.” Like. He adores Suguru.

Don’t get me started on the look in his eyes when Suguru expresses his concern over his overuse of his technique. The vulnerability? The way he looks surprised, the way it looks as though he feels seen for the first time ever? There is something so tender about this. I can’t even describe it but it’s just there.

“I’m fine.”

Satoru knew damn well he wasn’t okay. No one sneaks up on him. I know he had to have been freaking out on the inside. How did he sneak in? How did I not sense him? No one gets behind me, no one is stronger than me, what’s going to happen?

But he held it together for Suguru. I feel like it’s instinct for him to automatically reassure Suguru, regardless of if it’s true or not. He schooled that expression on his face and looked so gently at Suguru…man.

You can just see how absolutely devastated this man is in the moment he has to kill the man he loves.

The split second he defied all logic and believed that, even though he’d killed Suguru with his own hands, Suguru had somehow survived? The elation on his face to see him one last time?

“It might be goodnight for me, but it’s about time for you to wake up.” This is the smile he had on his face before calling out to Suguru, attempting to reach into the land of the dead for him. It’s like in this frame instead of the monster inhabiting Suguru, he just saw Suguru.

The last thing he sees before he gets sealed is Suguru’s face, smiling. I can’t imagine the anguish he must have felt here. It’s almost as if he’s clinging to it, trying to pretend that it really is Suguru. Trying to convince himself what he knows isn’t true.

Conclusion: there is no one that loves anyone as much as Satoru loves Suguru.

[nooripoori]

ooh thoughts on marc and baby cele?

~the hidden helmet

It’s a very rare occasion when Vale has to babysit Cele. But whenever Cele has been left with Vale he has heard the word Marquez, or sometimes Marc when Vale allows himself a glass of whiskey, come out of his mouth only a handful of times. At first Cele was confused as to who that was but then he once saw Pecco calling this short man with curly hair Marc when he had won the race and thats when Cele found out who this mystery man named Marc was.

Whenever Vale says Marquez it is only ever to commentate as to who was behind or in front of the academy boys when they were watching the race. But there was one time when Vale had went outside of the house to get some stuff from the shed, Cele had started wandering around as he got bored quickly. He had stood outside of room where earlier he had pointed to Vale saying that he wanted to go inside but Vale had just dismissed him and said that it only had old stuff in there, well Cele has never been one to back down so with all the strength in his little body he opened the door and went inside.

The room was very messy, everything was scattered about and there was no light inside except from the sunlight coming inside from the window. There were a bunch of boxes filled stuff, old trophies, old pictures and helmets laying around. There was one box that caught Cele’s eyes tho, it was in the corner and was the only one that was actually clean and looked like it had been opened recently. Ever the curious, Cele peeked inside of the box and inside was a helmet. It had something written on it, now he was confused, all the helmets Vale got from other people were displayed in the house so he didn’t get why this one which was obviously given by someone was inside this box.

Just as he was about to take out the helmet he heard somebody clearing his throat behind him. Like a deer caught in headlights he turned around to see Vale leaning on the door looking at him with one of his eyebrows raised. Now Cele was sure he’d get told off for coming in here without permission, but unexpectedly Vale had come inside the room and sat down next to Cele. He took the box from Cele and took out the helmet, gently rubbing the handwriting on the visor. None of them said anything for a while and just as Cele was about to ask Vale about the helmet Vale spoke up.

“This helmet right here is very precious to me, it was given to me by someone I love very deeply. He and I had spent a great amount of time with each other which was filled with love and happiness. This helmet was one of the last happy memories I have with him, which is why i cherish this helmet very much.”

Vale cupped Cele’s cheek with his left hand.

“One day when you grow up you will also meet someone who makes you feel like it’s heaven on earth. When you do, hold them close and cherish them. Don’t let them slip away, as I once did.

Vale’s hand fell.

“Oh how I miss you Marc…”

baby cele adventures

[the-broken-pen]

Hiii, I love your writing! It's so great that you're back! Could you write something like two actors are playing hero/villain in a movie or theater, but both of them sometimes just gets too in character/or just gets too stuck in character, so for like moments they actually forget that they are just acting?

“You didn’t think I’d let you die by anyone else’s hand but mine, did you?” The villain cocked their head to the side, grinning.

Distantly, the hero registered the whispering of stage commands, but tuned it out.

“You can’t just kill anyone who threatens me,” they argued back. They watched as the villain’s grin sharpened.

“Watch me,” the villain whispered, stepping closer. Fake blood was drying on the side of the hero’s head, and it itched more than usual. Must be a new brand from costuming.

“I could arrest you,” they offered, but they let the hesitation show on their face. Visible enough for the camera to catch their unwillingness, no matter how fake it was. Good enough nobody could tell the difference between real and not.

“You won’t.”

The hero tipped one head to the side

“And why’s that?”

The hero shifted, leaning in towards the villain.

“Because you’re mine,” the villain whispered, tone playful as their eyes seared into the hero’s.

The hero’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t on purpose.

Something kindled in their chest.

“Oh yeah?”

The villain shrugged one shoulder in perfect time to the script, and the hero pulled the next line to the tip of their tongue—

“Prove it.”

That was not the next line.

That wasn’t a line at all.

The villain blinked just once, the only sign of surprise they would allow, before their grin widened. Their shoulders loosened into something feral, something that delighted in this change.

Something that belonged off-stage.

“I’m covered in the blood of the people who hurt you,” the villain’s voice was smooth sliding down the hero’s spine. They shivered. “What more proof do you want, love.”

They blushed furiously at the nickname, even underneath the stage makeup, and at the pleased look on the villain’s face, it was visible.

What was the line what was the line what—

Their hands fisted into the front of the villain’s costume, dragging them closer. The villain let them, hand settling on the hero’s waist in a movement far too smooth.

“I don’t know,” the hero murmured, and they were just as surprised as the villain when their lips hovered just over the other’s ear. “Why don’t you stop trying to kill me, for starters.”

The villain tugged them closer, and the hero’s eyes went to their lips.

The villain looked at the hero like they wanted to devour them.

Fuck, what had been the line—

“Oh, but you’re so pretty covered in blood, Hero,” the villain crooned, and the hero opened their mouth to say something, their tongue a separate entity from their brain at this point—

“Hold!” Someone off-stage called, and they both froze. A second later, they were halfway across the stage from one another. Slipping out of being the hero and back into being themself felt like hitting a brick wall.

If the way the villain shuddered was any indication, they had forgotten they were playing a character too.

The hero turned away to face the tech crew, hand settling over their face to hide their blush.

The villain’s gaze was molten and heavy on their shoulders, even from as far away as they were.

“I don’t think that’s in the blocking,” the stage manager frowned, flipping through the script.

None of that was the blocking. No matter how much the stage manager searched those pages they would never find those lines.

Fuck.

“Improv,” the hero choked out, flushing. “It was, uh. A creative choice—“

From behind one of the curtains, they heard a crew member snort, muttering something about teenage actors and horniness—

The villain was smirking, a wicked thing.

“Right,” the stage manager said slowly, brow furrowed from where they sat. They murmured something into their headset, eyes shifting up between the villain and the hero, before they slid a screen in front of themself.

Just barely, the hero could make out the shape of the scene they had just filmed.

The screen went black, the room silent for a moment, before the stage manager let out a long suffering sigh.

“We’re changing the blocking.”

“What?” The hero yelped.

The villain settled their hands into their pockets, unbothered and grinning.

“We’re keeping the scene,” the stage manager nodded towards their tablet, and the hero almost passed out on the spot. They watched the stage manager eye the pleased and possessive look on the villain’s face. “For now, though, let’s call it a wrap for the day.”

Shuffling began, lights flickering off, and the hero escaped to their own dressing room, panting slightly.

Dear god, they were so fucked. They had forgotten they were acting, again—

“Improv, hm?” The villain grinned, lock sliding into place. The hero hadn’t even heard them come in.

The hero groaned. “I don’t know what happened—“

“Yeah,” the villain nodded, and they were closer than they had been a moment ago.

The hero swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

The hero waved one hand between them. “For, you know—“

The villain was still smiling.

It was then they remembered who had fought so hard in the writers’ room for the villain and the hero to end up together.

‘Enemies to lovers,’ the villain had said, eyes dark. ‘The fans will love it. There’s been sub plot for the last two seasons.’

The directors had pushed back, but now—

Oh. The villain wasn’t mad.

They were pleased.

The hero choked.

“You,” the hero tried.

“Me,” the villain agreed, and then they were kissing, all-consuming and desperate.

They made a noise in the back of their throat, the villain twining their hand into the hero’s hair.

“You forgot you were acting,” the villain murmured against their lips, and kissed them again before the hero could defend themself. “That I’m not really your villain and you aren’t my hero.”

The villain settled the hero onto the counter, coming to stand between their legs, one hand on their hip.

“Fuck,” they gasped, and they could feel the villain’s grin against their skin.

“Mhm.”

Somehow, the hero’s arms had ended up looped over the villain’s shoulders.

“Maybe stop killing people, and I’ll consider it,” they said between breaths.

“What?” The villain pulled back slightly.

“The line I forgot,” the hero said. They could drown in the villain’s eyes, they were sure of it. “Maybe stop killing people—“

“Don’t care,” the villain bit out, and then their mouth was on the hero’s again and nothing else mattered.

Maybe they weren’t truly hero and villain—but god were they good at pretending.

Three months later, the internet couldn’t decide what was better—that finally, after years, the hero and villain had ended up together on screen; or that off stage, their actors were desperately, hopelessly in love too.

[biceratops7]

Short theory about the good omens spoiler under the cut:

Hear me tf out, I am almost DEAD certain I’m right about this…

There is no possible way Crowley and Aziraphale are fully alone in that image. You know why? Because Crowley has his glasses on. And I don’t think I’ve once seen him wear his glasses when alone with only Aziraphale in that trailer. There’s also the fact that Crowley’s doing that whole “Yank-Him-By-The-Ol’-Lapels” number and Aziraphale definitely seems a bit unprepared. Which, let’s face it, is never a situation that was preceded by a soft, mutual lean in. (Unless I’m living under a rock but that just doesn’t make sense to me.)

So not only is there a very high chance this moment is happening while around other people, but is also spontaneous. Given the intensity… I’d say desperate.

…Guys I don’t think this is happening in the context of them finally feeling safe and comfortable and the time being right. I think this is more one of those situations where this needs to be the time because there may be no time after.

[haloswrld]

જ⁀➴✉:

JASON STARES AT HIS REFRIGERATOR TAINTED WITH COLORED PAPERS, each sheet featuring their own separate words collectively put together to form nothing more of a few sentences. he knows he didn’t write them nor place them there, but he tells himself that he’ll get rid of them when the re-adhesive strip of glue on the back of the sticky notes wears out and the notes begin to fall to the ground like a bunch of leaves waving goodbye. when the choice of letting go becomes more easier than holding on, is when he’ll dispose of the remnants left lingering behind. he tries to imagine a morning where he won’t come to a halt here, a morning where he won’t proceed to subconsciously read the words, phrases, and poems you’d stuck on his fridge. what were once things that made his days now became burdening reminders of a past he couldn’t forget or easily trash.

[dylanconrique]

THE LATEST CHENFORD CLIP I'M CRYING 😭😭😭😭😭

LUCY SETTING UP FOR DATE NIGHT MAKING DINNER AND LIGHTING CANDLES AND "IS THAT PRESENT FOR ME????" WHEN TIM CAME HOME AND HER ADORABLLE LITTLE "THANK YOOOU." 😚💕💕

ohhhh, but the disappointment in her face when tim got called in, and the confused, hurt look on her face as he suddenly up and left her. gosh, and the way her breath shook like, "i don't know" when tamara asked what was wrong. i just know my girl thinks whatever happened is her fault, or ties to her somehow. 🥺💔

[nonbinarylesbianherb]

my brain trying to stop me from writing fanfics instead of studying

[medicbrainrot]

got used to the feeling of letting it go, so give me something to believe in (deep end, part 3)

A/N: continued content warning for suicidal ideation, domestic violence, and excessive alcohol consumption.

“Damn it��” Simon stared at the apartment door, his mind flooded with circling thoughts. “What do I do now?” 

How can he get her to stop? Can he even do anything? Is he making things worse by trying? He felt a knot form in his throat, making it difficult to swallow.

As he stood there, he heard a yell come through the door followed by the sound of glass smashing.

“Aaarrrggghhh!”

At the sound, Simon’s heart joined the knot in his throat, panic flooding his veins. He knew he had already lost control of the situation, but suddenly it felt ten times worse. He felt like some of his worst fears were coming through, and he was paralyzed by the fear of something else happening to Juliana.

All he wants to do is make things right.

She needs to be okay. She has to be.

Simon tried to take a deep breath to steady his nerves, in an attempt to calm himself down. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

He turned around to face the door, and as he lifted his hand to the handle, he heard another yell followed by more glass shattering.

“AAARRRGGGHHH!”

“NO!” Simon yelled in response, slamming the door open and rushing inside. 

He was done deliberating, he had to do something. He wouldn’t leave until Jules let him help her.

Upon entering the living room, Simon could see smashed bottles on the floor that hadn’t been there earlier.

He heard a third smash come from the direction of the bathroom, followed by a yelped hiss and the sound of running water.

Without another thought, Simon rushed to the bathroom, his mind flooding with all kinds of horrible scenarios. 

His heart pounded in terror as he approached the doorway, panic flooding his mind as he pushed open the bathroom door. 

The world seemed to stop when Simon finally laid eyes on Juliana.

He rushed over to the sink where she was standing, his heart stopping when he saw the shattered mirror and her hands under the faucet, the water running pink.

“Jesus Christ, Juliana! Are you okay!?” He cries out.

“Peachy keen.” She slurs, swaying slightly.

“Oh fuck.” Simon’s words shook as he saw the blood dripping from her hand. She had sliced open the skin on her hand, probably from punching the mirror.

The pit of guilt in his stomach grew ever wider, threatening to consume him. 

He put his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to turn her towards him so he could get a look at her hands.

He wanted to help her. He needed to help her.

“Jules, what the hell…what did you do!?” He asked, voice still shaking.

He felt like his world would collapse at any moment.

“What you couldn’t…” She slurs. “Finish the job.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Simon exclaims, a tear starting to run down his face. “I’m so sorry, I really am.”

It was killing him to see Jules like this. Her eyes were clouded with an alcohol-induced haze, but he could read the anger in her body language. 

She was hurting, and he was to blame.

“I want to help you…” He says, voice cracking a little.

“Sure you can, join the party.” She shrugs. “There’s a whole selection under the kitchen sink. Just make sure to clock me in the right spot.”

“I’m not going to hurt you!” Simon cried, his voice laced with notes of desperation. “There has to be some other way to fix this…”

“My ex said that too. And then he tried to kill me anyway. Might as well get it over with, right?” She slurs, still running her hands under the faucet.

“I’m not him!” Simon exclaimed. “I don’t even know who he is!” He shook her by the shoulders and looked directly into her eyes.

He stared at her for a moment, and with a sinking realization came to the conclusion that nothing he said would help.

“I just want to make things right, Juliana. I…I’m so sorry for what I did to you. Please, please forgive me.” Simon pleaded, voice finally cracking.

“Make sure they use lilies at my funeral, not roses.” Juliana slurs, seeming pretty out of it.

“You’re not dying! I’m not going to hurt you!” Simon shouted desperately. 

His concern grew even more. Was she going to try to kill herself? Would she really try something like that?

“Juliana, for God’s sake! I’m not going to hurt you, I want to help you!” Was she even listening to anything he said, or had the alcohol blurred her mind so much that nothing was making any sense?

“Hmm, maybe if you hit me again, it’ll sink in this time…” Juliana mumbled.

“NO!” Simon shouted, trying to pull her out of the bathroom.

She may hate him for the rest of his life, but he still cares about her. He’s not going to let her hurt herself, no matter how much she hates him. 

“Listen to me!” Simons says as he shakes her shoulders. “I’m not going to let you continue hurting yourself!”

He slid his hands down her arms and he began to drag her away from the sink.

She stumbled as he dragged her, the insane amount of alcohol she had consumed affecting her balance and coordination. 

“Christ…” Simon growled, his body tensing as he held Juliana up. “Jules, please, let me help you.” He pleaded. There has to be another way to get through to her.

“Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” She mumbles. “How can God’s name be hallowed if people curse it all the time?” She asks no one in particular.

Simon didn’t really know what to say to that. “Huh?” He asked softly, staring at her.

Why is she bringing up religion? Just how drunk is she? The alcohol must be making her lose her common sense.

“Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.” Juliana continued softly.

“What in the hell?” Simon muttered under his breath, confused. “Jules, where did you learn that?” He asked, as if this were a normal conversation, as if she hadn’t just been talking about killing herself moments ago. “Jules, what the hell is going on with you?” This was taking a turn for the weird, she wasn’t making any sense.

“My grandma, the catholic one.” She slurs. “Used to say it all the time when my mom and I would fight.”

“Your mom and you?” Simon asked, sounding concerned. “Did…did she hit you?”

Some of the puzzle pieces were starting to come together. “Why would she do that?”

He wanted to know, but he knew he had to tread carefully so that he didn’t hurt her further.

“I don’t know why.” Juliana tries to shrug. “I never cared much for religion. What kind of god allows parents to hurt their children?”

“You were abused.” Simon concluded softly, sadness evident in his voice. “Is…isn’t there anyone else you could have turned to about this? Anyone you trust?”

Simon felt like he was starting to understand. He felt guilty for not having understood earlier. For not having seen it sooner. 

“You, the team…but when you backhanded me, in front of everyone, I felt like I was back to square zero.” She says softly.

“I’m sorry.” Simon said, his voice laced with intense guilt. “I really am.”

The events of the past two days were his fault. He had driven her to this. He was responsible.

Simon stared at her in silence for a moment. “I’m sorry, Juliana.” For a brief moment, you could see the deep pain in his eyes, the pit of guilt that had been growing, beginning to consume him. 

“It’s okay.” She shrugs sadly. “I’ve been through worse.”

His eyebrows furrowed at her statement. “No, no, it’s not okay.” He said seriously, his tone still soft. “It’s never okay for this to happen to anyone. I…I don’t care what’s happened, or what you’ve done. No one deserves to be abused.” 

“For the longest time… I believed it was my fault, that I had done something wrong.” She whispered.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Simon said with conviction. “It was never your fault.”

He felt awful. Simon felt awful that she had been through this, twice, and that he had contributed to it.

“Juliana, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s your parent’s fault. It’s your ex’s fault. Not yours.” He said, trying to convince her. He wanted to make sure she knew it wasn’t her fault. To make sure that she didn’t blame herself for what had happened, never again. 

Juliana looked at him, tears beginning to slide down her face.

Simon saw the tears in her eyes, and felt his heart shatter. He hadn’t felt like this in years, he felt worse than he had in a long time, seeing her cry like this.

“It’s okay Jules.” He said softly. He lifted her up a little bit so that she could sag against him as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. “You’ll be okay.”

Simon sighed as he looked down at her. “Just… just promise me one thing, okay?” He asked softly. “Promise me you’ll stop drinking like this, okay?” 

He looked at her, sounding a bit desperate. “You’re drunk. Very drunk. And your emotions are running high. You can’t keep going like this, Jules. You know I’m right.” He said firmly.

“I don’t even like alcohol.” She mumbles. “It’s gross.”

“Yet you’ve been drinking it anyway, why?” Simon asked, notes of confusion in his voice. He didn’t understand. Why drink if she doesn’t like the taste?

“Nothing hurts when I’m drunk. Everything feels numb.” She says.

“And what do you do when you sober up? It will still be there, waiting for you. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you keep drinking like this, Jules.” He sighs. “Drinking your problems away doesn’t solve them, trust me.”

“I know it doesn’t actually fix anything.” She sighs. “But sometimes it’s nice to not have to feel anything for a little while.”

“It’s never good to numb yourself out like this.” Simon gently explained. “It always gets worse when you sober up. Please, stop drinking like this. You’re better than this.” He said, notes of concern and love in his voice. “You’re worth more than this, Juliana.”

“Is that what you were thinking when you hit me?” Jules asked quietly.

“Do you want to hear the honest answer, or the sugar-coated answer? Because I’ll give you the honest answer.” Simon said, slightly bitter. “I was angry. I was mad at you. And I let that anger get the best of me. “I’m sorry.” He said sincerely.

“Thank you for being honest.” She said softly.

“So… will you stop trying to drown yourself in alcohol?” Simon asked, hoping she understood how worried he was and how much he cared. “Please?”

“Yeah… I think I’m done.” She whispered. “Help me pour it out?”

“Sure.” He replied, the sound of relief evident in his voice. 

He helped her pour out the bottles sitting on the kitchen counter, and he grabbed the bottles under the kitchen sink and emptied those as well. He searched the fridge and the kitchen cabinets, and poured out the bottle he found. 

“I think I got it all.” He said softly.

“Did you check under the bathroom sink?” She asked.

“Under the sink?” Simon sighed, going to the bathroom to retrieve the two bottles stashed there. How long has this been a problem that she has so much alcohol hidden in her apartment?

“That should be the last of it.” He said gently.

“You know, it’s kinda funny.” Juliana muses. “I tried to go to AA when I was 19. No one believed I had a problem… A 19 year old college girl with a drinking problem? Nah.”

“That’s awful, I’m sorry they didn’t believe you, that you didn’t get the help you needed.” Simon said softly.

“I was underage, but otherwise well put together.” She shrugs. “I didn’t fit the stereotype.”

“Even so.” Simon said, slightly frustrated. “They should have helped, not turned you away.”

“Did... did you ever try again? To get help?” Simon asked, sounding worried.

“No. I took the initial failure as a sign that I had to fix it by myself.” She answered.

“It doesn’t have to be that way. You can get help.” Simon squeezed her gently. “There are people who care. I care, Juliana, I really do. Let me help you.”

“I know you do.” Juliana sighs. “But when my boyfriend hits me when he gets upset in an argument, that really scared me, Simon.”

“I’m sorry, Juliana. I shouldn’t have done that. There is never a good reason to hurt someone like that.” Simon said, pain in his voice. “I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“I hope not.” She tries to stand on her own, but wobbles because of all the alcohol.

“Are you okay?” Simon asks. “You’re still very unsteady. Should you be standing?”

“I need to go to the bathroom… I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” She wobbles.

“Okay, let’s get you to the bathroom.” Simon helped her get to the toilet, just in time before the alcohol made a gross reappearance. 

She leaned over the toilet, and all the alcohol in her stomach started the process of leaving her system.

“That’s it. Get it all out.” Simon soothed, rubbing her back. “You need to rest, Juliana. You’re not in a good state right now. You need sleep, or you’re going to feel worse.”

“Ughhh, I already feel awful.” Juliana groans. “I remember the last time I got alcohol poisoning. It was horrible.”

“That’s why I was trying to stop you from drinking more.” Simon said, his voice slightly cold. He knew that he had to stop her from continuing down this path of self-destruction. He had to stop it.

“I get it, Simon. I fucked up.” She said flatly.

“You made a mistake. You were upset. I get it. I’m not mad at you. But I want you to get better.” He said softly.

“Ok.” She wobbles as she tries to stand up. “I… I want to take a shower… but I… I…”

Simon helps her to her feet and helps her towards the shower. “Here we go.” He says gently.

He opened the shower curtain and helped her get undressed, starting the water at a warm temperature. He helped her sit down in the tub, and knelt next to it as he started to help her bathe, as if she were a child.

“I’m sorry for fucking up.” She said quietly as he washed her hair.

“It’s alright, Juliana.” Simon replied as he continued to wash her, taking care to be gentle. “I’m here to help you.”

“Thank you.” She sighed under his touch. “I’m the worst girlfriend ever…”

“I think you’re a pretty nice girlfriend, actually. This was just a hiccup, you didn’t do it intentionally.” Simon said gently as he helped her wash off. “Nobody is perfect, Jules, but that’s okay. It’s what makes us human.” 

“You’re not alone. You have people who love you. Me included.” He said.

“I’m sorry, Simon. For everything, for… for this, for arguing with you, for provoking you to the point of violence. I’m sorry.” She says, tears gathering in her eyes.

Simon sat silently for a moment as he helped her rinse the shampoo from her hair. After a bit, he felt like some of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “It’s alright, Jules. It… It was a mistake. But we’re okay, we’ll move on from this. And it wasn’t just you who provoked me, I also reacted poorly.”

“I know I don’t say it often enough, but I appreciate you Simon. My life is better with you in it.” She teeters a little, the alcohol still making its way through her system. “I… I don’t ever want to lose you.”

Simon took a deep breath, and then pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love you Juliana. I don’t ever want to lose you either.” He said softly. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She lets out a small laugh. “Simon, I look ridiculous, I’m drunk, naked, and covered in soap suds because I can’t even shower by myself right now.”

“And yet you’re still beautiful.” Simon said matter-of-factly. “You’re still gorgeous even if you do look kind of ridiculous.”

“Even when I’m wasted?” Juliana whispers.

“Even when you’re wasted, or sick, or tired, or any version of anything you think is less than perfect.” He kissed her cheek again. “I will always love you, no matter what. I am here to protect you.” He said, almost as if he were swearing a promise.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be deserving of you, Simon.” She whispered fondly before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Trust me, you are. I don’t want anybody else. I love you, all of you. Your faults, your flaws, your traumas, your insecurities. All of you, Juliana.” He gently ran a hand down her hair as he finished rinsing her off. “Don’t you ever doubt that.”

She shivered, a tingle running down her spine.

“I love you.” She whispers. “But can we get out of the shower now? The water is starting to run cold…”

“Yeah, of course.” Simon nodded, turning off the water. “Give me a moment, yeah?” He grabbed a towel and gently picked her up, sitting her on the outside edge of the tub. 

“Just dry off a bit, I’ll grab you some clothes.” He rubbed her arms a bit to warm her up.

“Here you go.” Simon stepped back into the bathroom, clean pajamas in hand. 

Juliana shivered, despite the warm steam in the bathroom.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he saw her shiver, wanting to make sure she was okay.

“It’s kinda cold…” She shivered again. “I think the alcohol is making its way through my system.”

“Alright, let’s get you in bed and get you warmed up.” He helped her get dried off and dressed, then picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, carefully setting her down on the bed.

He pulled up the blankets around her, before kicking off his shoes and sliding under the covers next to her.

“Thank you Simon, for not abandoning me.” She whispered, snuggling into his side. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“I’m right here.” He replied. “You’re safe, no one is going to hurt you anymore. You’ll always be safe with me. I’m never leaving you, ever. Okay?”

She nods, tucking her face into his neck.

Simon grew quiet, wrapping his arms around her, gently rubbing up and down her back. 

“You’re warm.” Juliana mumbled softly.

“Is it comforting?” Simon asked.

“Mmhmm. You smell good, too, like home.”

“I… I do? I smell good?” Simon wondered curiously, running his fingers lightly through her wet hair.

“Yeah,” She mumbles. “Like spice, and pine, and… and home…”

Simon smiled at her description, his heart fluttering a little bit. “You’ve got to rest now, my sweet girl. That’s the best thing for you right now. Get some sleep, I’m right here.”

“Not close enough.” Jules muttered, wrapping an arm around Simon’s torso and bringing herself tighter against him, with surprising strength  for someone so drunk.

Simon let out a small laugh at her actions. “You want me right next to you, huh?”

He gently pulled her tighter against him. “Alright love, I’m right here. You’ve got me.” He whispered, tucking her closer to him.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated!

Masterlist

[archersartcorner]

Thought of an AU awhile ago where Weatherall n Prilbus somehow manage to survive and team up to enact both their desired revenges against Norman and Skip, didn’t draw anything for it then but saw a recent post in the tags that reminded me of it (op of that post if u see this, I am shaking ur hand rn!!!!!!!!) so here’s a thing! It feels so so unlikely that this would happen in canon but it ALSO feels like some absolute whack sci-fi plot twist that COULD happen ykwim? Some “I AM your father” ass bs LMAO

[milknbagels]

Sudden angst animatic-esque scene popped up in my head.

Muzan & Gale: *Just relaxing and Cuddling*

Gale: Mmn, warm and comfy..makes me happy *nuzzles into his chest*

Muzan: Is that so? Just being held by me makes you happy? What if I decide not to let you go, ever?

Gale: Then don't *giggles*

-Scene cuts to him holding her cold, bloodied corpse-

[aelswiths]

"I hope you know I am grateful." "Lady, there's no need"

For @aadmelioraa & @aethelreds my beloveds ❤️❤️❤️

[redmantic]

The woods,

A perfect echochamber of desperate pleas

An echochamber for delirious fawns.

—

Your throat burns

Your own cries mock your desolation.

Salvation does not come to those who crumble,

So you sink to your knees.

Weeping in a rainforest.

How pathetically stupid,

No one can hear you.

How pathetically human.

—

You are a discarded branch,

And the tree will keep growing without you.

[unfortunate-arrow]

for the au ask game; a hartkade au where nova is a famous musician?💚

Nate is a history student in his last year of graduate school and planning to go directly to get his PhD. Nova’s a world famous pop star.

They meet when Nate’s twin brother, Finn, is hired to do one of Nova’s photo shoot. Nova, who’s known for being a little standoffish, immediately takes to Nate. She’s shocked by how much she likes the history nerd and gives him her number.

Nate and Nova become fast friends, texting daily and sometimes even hourly. Eventually, it turns to romance.

Nova wants to keep it a secret for a while, just so they can be them without the press. Nate’s fine with that. He’s never been in the public eye, at least not like that. They only manage to keep them a secret from the press for two months.

A paparazzi photo surfaces of the two of them getting ice cream and kissing. Social media explodes, made even worse by the speculations about who is Nate? Who is the man that Nova’s been photographed with. Angst ensues. Nova tries to break up with Nate after seeing how his work is being disrupted after the university that he’s studying at gets revealed.

Nate doesn’t let her and they’re officially public when Nova posts a picture wishing Nate a happy birthday.

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ or an aesthetic about it

[blotlcss]

daily i think about the inevitable of yuu getting tricked into freeing the Blot and being consumed by it, and they end up trapped as they're forced to watch the monster they unwillingly released destroy their home and hurt their friends—

[mmollymercury]

Clawdeen had a sad, gay crush on Draculaura, I don't make the rules.

[byberbunk2069]

Jane Siberry did so much damage to me with that bit: "it's hard to believe that love will prevail"