#the sweetest promise

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 15

~ Meeting the Parents ~

Thank you for your patience. Get ready for some Awkward Rowan and some average editing because that's for people with better time management. Head to @rowaelinscourt for more Rowaelin month goodness,

The Sweetest Promise Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin was hesitant to admit it, but she might have a new friend. On the way home from the gala she had been sussing out Sweet As Sugar, just see what happened next after her first successful date. Checking the page linking her and Rowan’s profiles there were a few prompts that led her through the process. There were questions that related directly to her date: was payment on time, was the information given accurate, did anything happen in his company that was not within policy. All Aelin could do was give him a raving review—Rowan had been a perfect gentleman and followed all the rules. The last was a simple query for her. Would she like to see him again? 

That was one she had to think about. Yes, Rowan had done everything right but he had very clearly stated that he was after a one time thing. He just needed her company for the gala, that was it. There was no indication that he was after anything else. On the other hand, he seemed like a decent guy and was nice enough, if not socially awkward to an extent. Would there be any harm in saying yes? If he didn’t want to see her again, all he had to do was not contact her. If he did want to, the extra money wouldn’t hurt. So once again, Aelin took that plunge and tapped through the request. 

Rowan’s reply hadn’t come through until she had finished showering and she was so ready to fall into bed that she almost missed it. He had said yes. 

Since then they had been on three ‘dates’. All had been Rowan taking her out to a fancy dinner where they ate and chatted about surface level stuff. Just asking about each other’s day or the food. Rowan really was fitting into the mildest of Sugar Daddy boxes. If he wasn’t so handsome Aelin might have reconsidered. The relief she’d felt when Rowan hadn’t turned out to be old was off the scale. 

On the first date after the gala Aelin had explained her reasoning of why she had decided to give being a sugar baby a go. The conversation had been dragging and Aelin was looking for anything to bring it back up to speed. Of course, the first thing Aelin had done waking up the morning after the gala was to Google Rowan Whitethorn. Turned out he was some big hotshot corporate lawyer who had a cold and efficient reputation. He could throw down verbally in a courtroom, but couldn’t carry a conversation over dinner. So she explained how this stunt was supposed to support her through the rest of her university degree. Rowan commended her for her resourcefulness, and she still couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, and agreed on a weekly arrangement to keep her funds up. They’d even agreed on a pay rise now that Aelin was past the beginners stage. 

Although, tonight a message hadn’t come through today so Aelin started looking at other plans. She guessed he was busy and he’d request another meeting. There were night markets on in one of the larger parks in the city and she was determined to go. Aelin hadn’t found anyone to go with. She had thought of seeing if Kaltain wanted to go, but the chances of her being home on a Friday night were slim. Going by herself wasn’t that big of a deal. People watching was a hobby of hers. 

5 o’clock rolled around and Aelin decided it was time to get ready. She’d catch a tram into the city so she’d need to give herself time to get there. The weather was mild so she opted for jeans and a nice t-shirt, adding a light jacket for when the sun went down and the air got a bit cooler. She was going through the list of memes her friend Elide had sent her when another notification popped up on her screen. It was from Rowan, he wanted to see her tonight. 

He’d booked a table at some restaurant uptown, and Aelin literally tipped her head back and disappointment flooded her. Another stuffy restaurant? She’d rather not. The last two had allowed her to eat delicious food but she’d also been too frightened to raise her voice above a loud whisper lest she disturb the ambiance. Aelin had been looking forward to a casual evening out, where people were loud and they laughed. She was well within her rights to say no but she also wanted the money. 

There was an alternative and the worst that could happen was Rowan saying no. He was supplying the money, he had final say. Opening the chat Aelin didn’t hesitate before letting him know exactly what she wanted to do. 

>> Counter offer. I want to go to the food markets in Sandstone Park tonight. Want to do that instead?

It was no big deal, the markets would on tomorrow as well, so if Rowan wasn’t keen to change his plans that would be fine. They were on friendly enough terms that this wouldn’t be a huge drama. He did seem uptight enough that he would stick to his guns though. Thems were the breaks of Aelin’s new profession. That thought made her laugh. Being a sugar baby was by no means a career goal for her. It was currently a means to an end, nothing more. Aelin wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to do once she had finished her degree. She could become a concert pianist or maybe teaching was in her future. Whatever it was, she’d figure it out once her thesis was no longer rattling every brain cell she had inside her head. 

The phone in her hand pinged and Aelin looked down. 

<< That sounds great. 

Aelin gave an excited squeal, dancing on the spot. It seemed she was wrong about Mr Rowan Whitethorn, he may not be as uptight as she thought. It didn’t take long for her to finish getting ready, declining his offer of an Uber and walked down to the tram station around the block. After a few minutes one pulled up and Aelin crammed in with the rest of the passengers. 

The city had that end of week buzz where everyone was excited for the weekend. Aelin was undoubtedly going to spend a good chunk of her time working on her thesis, but she was looking forward to a brain break tonight. 

Aelin swayed with the movements of the tram, catching snippets of conversation around her. Doranelle was just like any other city, full of people and hustle and bustle. It made Aelin feel a little less out of place and despite the different buildings and climate if she closed her eyes it was almost like she was back in Orynth. Her bouts of homesickness never lasted long. Thank the gods for technology—her friends and family were just a phone call away. 

The tram announced her stop and Aelin darted out the doors. A few last glimmers of sunlight were reflecting off the windows of the higher buildings. It wouldn’t be long until the city went dark and the night took over. Sandstone Park was a short walk away and rounding a corner the markets came into Aelin’s view. There were a variety of tents and vans, some vendors just had tables. As she crossed the final road the smells of all the foods on offer wafted over on a breeze. Thanks to her benefactor she was no longer surviving on instant noodles and had plenty of snacks to keep her going. She wasn’t hungry, but still her stomach grumbled. 

She weaved her way through the crowds, glancing around at what was on offer. Even though she was sorely tempted, Aelin held off on making any purchases and decided to wait for her date. Fairy lights were hung up in low branches of a gigantic oak to create a dining area with numerous tables set up beneath it. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and sent off a quick message. 

>> I’m under the big, old oak

People came and went with plates of food while Aelin waited. She kept an eye out for Rowan, and before too long she spotted his silver-haired head weaving through the crowd. His overall handsomeness still made her pause. This man seemed to have it all, good looks, money, a stable job. She supposed the consequence for his success was the reason for their situation. Something just wasn’t quite there personality wise. Tonight he had forgone his usual suit and tie get up and had dressed down. Rowan wore dark chinos and a light sweater on top. It was… different, and not in a bad way. 

He glanced over the crowd, no doubt looking for her. When he was looking in Aelin’s direction she gave him a wave to catch his attention. Rowan saw her, and made his way over. 

“Good evening,” Aelin said cheerily when Rowan was close enough. 

“Hey. This is…” he paused to look around, “busy.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Aelin asked.

Rowan shrugged a shoulder. “It’s different.”

“Have you not been to one of these before?” 

“Years ago, I haven’t really had the chance recently,” Rowan explained. 

Aelin was too impatient to continue with the small talk, they could do that with plates of food in front of them. “Shall we?”

They did a loop of the stalls together, just commenting on potential food choices and not much else. Then Aelin suggested that they split up and meet back under the oak. She headed straight to the vendor with fried wild picked mushrooms, served with a flat bread, and then to another to pick up a fragrant rice dish. That was all rounded out with a box of chocolate truffle selections. Rowan was waiting for her, all the tables with chairs were taken so he’d claimed a standing one instead. 

“Are you on a budget tonight?” Aelin asked, eyeing his plate while she put hers next to it. All that was on it were a variety of meats on wooden sticks, plus a salad in a paper side bowl.

Rowan looked confused. “Why do you say that?”

“Just not much variety,” Aelin said. 

“This is all I wanted,” he said simply.

Aelin was too hungry and just left it at that. Despite what Rowan said, they shared everything. It was delicious, even the meat skewers. What kept Aelin entertained through dinner was asking Rowan questions. She had vowed to make a friend out of him, if this was the painful road to it, so be it. 

“Favourite colour?” Aelin asked, loading up a slice of bread with mushrooms. They’d already been over childhood pets, school experiences and the like. Rowan’s answers had all been succinct and to the point, no reason to fluff up his words. This was probably why he made such a good lawyer. 

“Green.” Then he turned it on her. “Yours?”

“Hmm,” Aelin did have to think for a moment. “For years I tried to convince myself it was blue, but I always came back around to red. Favourite food?”

Rowan laughed under his breath and shook his head. “You’re relentless.”

“I don’t see the harm in knowing each other better considering the situation. We can be friends, you know,” Aelin said.

“A friend who I pay to spend time with.”

The dry but slightly humoured way he said the words had Aelin choking on her mouthful with a sudden laugh. “Well, it sounds bad when you put it that way.”

“There’s absolutely no way to put it that it doesn’t sound bad, Celaena,” Rowan said, his mouth trying to fight a smile and failing. 

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” Aelin poked some of her food around the plate before she glanced up to throw the final blow. “I think you’re just lazy.”

At Rowan’s indignant noise, a wide grin was spreading across Aelin’s face. For a moment he looked at her with narrowed eyes but then that smile he had been fighting won. He was about to say something when he cut himself off.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling out his phone. “This should just take me a minute.”

Aelin left him to it, picking at what food was left. Rowan was just texting away so she decided to look around again. There were all kinds of people out tonight, couples, families, loud and obnoxious groups of friends. It was nice to get out every once and a while to see that despite being holed up in her room or corners of the library at the university, the world still went on. 

“Celaena?”

It was clear that Rowan had said that name more than once, and she hadn’t responded. She’d made it up to give herself some protection but it was increasingly seeming pointless and precarious. 

“Yes, sorry,” she said. 

“I was just going to ask if you wanted a drink,” Rowan explained.

“Oh, yes please.”

He nodded and then left. Aelin watched him go and contemplated a few things. Celaena had been a precaution, she hadn’t been keen to give random strangers on the internet her real name. But now, with how decent Rowan was, she wasn’t really seeing the point anymore. In the spirit of true friendship, that would be the first thing on her list she would rectify. Rowan came back a few minutes later, two cups in hand. 

“What’s this?” She asked as Rowan put a cup in front of her. 

“Old fashioned lemonade,” Rowan said just before taking a sip. 

The words were out of Aelin’s mouth before she could think better of it. “How old are you?”

“I’m 32,” Rowan supplied. “Does this lemonade mean I’m old?”

“Ah, well,” Aelin hedged. “I guess I was just expecting something else.” Maybe something a little stronger.

“How old did you think I was?” Rowan asked, leaning on the table. The gesture accentuated his broad shoulders. 

“Originally, old,” she laughed a little remembering how his blurred profile picture had done him no favours. “Very old. But not ancient, even if your social skills suggest otherwise.”

Rowan laughed, maybe one of the first true laughs she’d managed to weasel out of him. “You’re just being mean.”

Aelin laughed too. “It’s better you know that now.”

For a while they just stood there, basking in the mutual humour. Then Rowan said, “It’s meat on a stick, by the way.”

“What?” Aelin was entirely lost. 

“My favourite food, you asked.”

“Ohhh.” Aelin’s mind caught up with her. “Guess that explains dinner. Speaking of, I got dessert.”

Aelin opened the box of truffles but Rowan made no move to pick one. 

“I don’t mind which you take, just not that one,” she pointed to the one on the end. “That’s choc-hazelnut. That’s my favourite.”

“You can have all of them,” Rowan said. 

“Gods, are you allergic?” That was cause for some panic. 

Rowan just shook his head. “I just don’t like sweets.”

“You what?” Aelin had nearly yelled the words, drawing a few curious looks. When the insane man in front of her just shrugged she just shook her head. “And to think, I was going to share a secret with you.”

He gave her a look full of curiosity. “A secret?”

“I guess because you’ve paid I owe you something,” Aelin said, making sure to add enough flair to create some drama. “It may surprise you to know that my real name isn’t Celaena. It’s Aelin. I thought it safer to use a false name but since we are to be friends.”

There was an offer there, she hoped Rowan took it. 

“That’s smart,” Rowan said. “And as your friend, I thank you for telling me.”

Aelin took a sip of her lemonade, noting how tasty it actually was. “I may rescind my friendship due to the lack of sweets thing. That’s just unnatural.”

“I stand by what I said,” Rowan said. “Mean.”

Aelin was grinning, Rowan was too and she was about to start on path to at least making him try one when they were interrupted. 

There was a bright and cheerful, “Hello,” and Aelin was sure she had never seen dread take over a man so quickly.

~~~~~

This was what a heart attack felt like, Rowan was sure of it. He recognised that voice and he had no idea what ill luck he deserved for this to happen. Turning his head just a little, Rowan found his mother standing there, her hazel eyes reading far too much into the situation. Rowan knew what this looked like, but that was so far from the truth it wasn’t funny. 

“Mam,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Your father and I are on our way to see a show and we thought we’d take a walk through the park,” his mother said. 

Shit. His father was here too. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?” 

Every implication of that word came through loud and clear. She thought this was a date, it looked like a date. But it wasn’t, it really wasn’t.

“Cel—Aelin,” Rowan kicked himself over the stumbling. He couldn’t really be blamed; he'd just learned Aelin’s name less than five minutes ago. “This is my mother Iris.”

Rowan had watched the woman in front of him damn near charm the pants off an entire ballroom, and right now was no different. She smiled, something softer than the one she’d been wearing when she teased him all night, and extended her hand. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Aelin said. 

“Likewise,” Iris gave Rowan a sly smile. 

In that moment he had a sickening thought as to how well these women would get on. He’d never have a moment’s peace if they got started on him. 

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Aelin said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Rowan watched as his mother tracked Aelin as she left. He could only imagine the thoughts going through her head. The loudest of which he could almost hear, it had something to do with how beautiful the grandchildren would be. 

“Do you have something to tell me, son?” Iris asked. 

If that wasn’t a loaded question. “No. Aelin is just a friend.” Who I’m paying to spend time with because I’m a lonely bastard with awful social skills. 

“I see,” Iris said. It was clear she didn’t believe him. 

“Rowan. What a surprise,” a male voice said. 

“Hi, Dad.”

“Oh, Evander. You have to meet Rowan’s new friend,” Iris said as she hooked a hand on her husband’s elbow. 

“A friend?” Evander said, brows high. 

“Yes a friend,” Iris reiterated.

“Stop saying friend like that. You two need to calm down,” Rowan told them. “Aelin is just that.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Evander said.

Iris nodded. “She’s very pretty too. Beautiful. Rowan has good choice in his friends.”

“Hellas save me,” Rowan muttered under his breath. He did not need his family meddling in this situation. 

Aelin returned and he didn’t miss the way that his parents’ faces lit up. 

“Hello,” Aelin directed at Evander. “Dad, I’m assuming.”

“You’ve assumed right,” Evander said. “And you’re…”

“Aelin, this is Aelin,” Iris said, far too gleefully. 

For a millisecond Aelin looked confused, and then realisation lit up her face. Rowan felt like had the distinct feeling that he was in danger. Tonight had made it more than clear that Aelin was finding joy teasing him, gods knew what she’d be able to accomplish if left alone with his parents for five minutes. 

“How did you two meet?” His mother asked, no hesitation or shame. 

“Um,” Aelin said, and she couldn’t help but smile. “The circumstances were pretty interesting.”

Rowan needed to think of an answer, and fast. “Work event.”

Iris sighed. “Trust my son to be so concise.”

“Oh, so he’s like that with everyone?”

The women laughed at his expense and Rowan let it happen. It was better than the alternative. He would rather this old oak give up the ghost and fall on him than admit to being Aelin’s sugar daddy. There were a few reasons why he kept up the dates with Aelin, he hadn’t been lying when he said he wanted to keep helping her out. But the other side of it was that he enjoyed her company, and it was so easy to spend time with her. There were no expectations. And when she had mentioned being friends tonight he’d worked hard to not show just how eager he was for that. 

“I know you’d love to stay and chat,” Rowan cut in. “But don’t you have a show to get to?”

His father checked his watch. “I’m sorry to say, but Rowan’s right. Nice to meet you, Aelin. I hope we can meet again soon.”

“Have a good night,” Iris added. “Don’t have too much fun.”

The wink Iris gave the two of them suggested that they in fact have all the fun they wanted. 

“Bye,” Aelin said to the both of them. 

Rowan added his goodbyes and he breathed a sigh of relief when he and Aelin were left alone again. She immediately started laughing. 

“Dodged a bullet there.”

The chuckle that escaped Rowan was half nerves. “You can say that again.”

“Your parents seem lovely,” Aelin added once her laughing stopped. “Your mother seemed very excited. Like it’s been a while since you’ve been giving out this kind of attention.”

Aelin didn’t know how right she was. “You could say that.”

Rowan thought he was in for it, but surprisingly he was shown some mercy. 

“I guess we can save that discussion for another time,” Aelin said. Then she piled up their used plates. “So, what should we do next?”

They ended up at an art gallery not too far away from the markets, and they spent some time browsing the displays. They kept the chit-chat art focused and their evening together seemed to wind down on its own. Rowan did the gentlemanly thing and walked Aelin to the nearest tram station. They waited for the traffic to stop just across the road.

“Until next week then?” Aelin said, giving him a smile. 

Rowan nodded. “Until next week, Aelin.”

Her smile grew just a little wider when he said her name, and then she was waving at him as she crossed the road as the pedestrian light changed to green. Rowan gave a short wave back and watched until Aelin was out of sight. He tried to deny it, but next week couldn’t come soon enough.

~~~~~

One day soon I'll get the time to play with taglists again

[crabsnpersimmons]

This one goes out to all the slow burn enjoyers, the dense Y/Ns, and the soft robo jesters that suffer in silence!

Inspired by @bamsara's “Solar Lunacy” fic.

If you feel like reading my ramblings and want to experience more heartbreak for fictional jester blorbos, check under the cut where I detail all the planning behind the frames!

so i heard this song for the first time in a while and the opening lyrics immediately made me think of moon, so i was daydreaming some scenes and then i decided to thumbnail some ideas:

and it all went downhill from there as everything became a metaphor and a parallel to each other, which i will now go into detail on!

you thought the animatic itself was sad?

*writing muse laughs maniacally* IT'S ALL A METAPHOR

Frame 1. "turn down the lights" We start with a back view on Moon. The lights are out, the Moon is out, but we do not see his face. The music and the greyscale atmosphere are enough to establish the weight of the moment and the weight on Moon’s mind.

Frame 2. "turn down the bed" We cut to a shot of Moon's body, kneeling on the ground of the daycare, like a padded cell. Moon’s hands are twitching with the effects of the glitch, with purple sparks coming from his hands. We still do not see his face.

Frame 3. "turn down these voices inside my head" Cut to an extreme close up on the dark half of Moon’s face. Now we see his face, but only a portion of it. His left eye is wide open, red and glitching out. The voices in his head can refer to the glitch but also his repressed feelings. Or maybe it could be Sun's voice in their shared headspace.

Frame 4. "lay down with me" Y/N's hand enters the frame from the upper right corner, lowering down to meet Moon where he kneels on the ground. Only a corner of Moon's face appears on the bottom left corner of the frame, his starry nightcap beginning to cover his glitched left eye.

Frame 5. "tell me no lies" An full shot of Moon on the floor and Y/N standing in front of him with their hand stretched towards him. A light spills out from behind Y/N, creating a boundary between them.

Now we see more of Moon. It is only when Y/N enters the frame—enters his world—that Moon’s body is shown in its entirely. When Y/N is here, he is no longer fragmented. He is whole.

Frame 6. "just hold me close" pspspspsps Playfully, Moon extends his own hand, beckoning Y/N to come closer, to join him. His right hand crossed over his body as he uses the playful gesture to hide his true feelings—to put distance between him and Y/N. His hat continues to cover his glitching left eye. He doesn’t want to worry Y/N.

Frame 7. "don't patronize" In response, Y/N’s hand pats Moon on the head, returning his playfulness. Moon looks surprised by the action. Moon, notably, does not lower his hand—perhaps he has forgotten it or perhaps his invitation is still open.

Frames 8-9. "don't patronize me" Moon rotates his faceplate so Y/N’s hand is touching the side of his faceplate, a more intimate gesture than a head pat. However, his hat is in the way. At this angle, his starry nightcap fully covers his glitchy eye and the dark side of his face, hiding his defect and acting as a veil between him and Y/N. A self-imposed boundary. So close, yet thinly separated. It's better this way. It's safer this way.

The lyrics are broken up by Y/N's arm, both to illustrate how the song is sung ("patronize" is drawn out and "me" is briefly added in before the chorus starts) but also to show how Y/N interrupts Moon's resolve, highlighting the irony between the visuals and the lyrics. Demanding not to be patronized, yet Moon happily accepts this play at intimacy. Don't patronize me, I am weak for it.

This is also the only instance where the red light of Moon's eyes glow and tint the surfaces around it. Visually, it makes it look like Moon is blushing (heavily inspired by @restinsodaroni's art). But also, in this moment of honesty, Moon's intrinsic light spills out, colouring the greyscale world. In this brief moment of honesty, Moon touches the world with his own colours, his own light.

(and this is also where i forgot to clean up the shading on Y/N's arm, but it's okay it doesn't need to be perfect it simply needs to be. And Moon will still love Y/N even if they are a continuity error.)

Frame 10. "'cause I can't make you love me if you don't" A parallel to a frame 4, Y/N retrieves their hand away and immediately Moon is reduced to the corner of his faceplate in the frame. Only now his glitched eye is fully covered by his hat.

The lyrics here (and in the next frame) in particular grow lighter to emphasize Moon's diminishing resolve and agency.

From here on out, the lyrics here are broken up, carrying on this theme of fragmentation. Y/N is pulling away, Moon is breaking up, the words are breaking up. Everything is coming apart.

Frame 11. "you can't make your heart feel something it won't" Y/N turns to leave. The lyrics, broken up as before, highlight the irony of the situation. Y/N, a human, can’t feel something they simply don’t feel. Whereas, Moon, the machine, feels something his code never intended him to feel.

Frame 12. "here in the dark in these final hours" Another full shot that parallels frame 5, as Y/N steps towards the light and Moon leans forward into the space Y/N once occupied. Y/N is leaving—that which makes him whole is leaving. And he is only capable of making it to the boundary where the light cuts into the darkness. The "final hours" suggest it might be the end of Y/N’s shift, or perhaps this scene takes place right before the glitch takes over—the final hours that Y/N has with the true Moon. Either way, time is running out—and only Moon knows it.

There is a contrasting display of body language here. Moon is on the floor leaning towards Y/N with his hand still left out. Whereas Y/N is turned away, walking away, and has already slipped their hand away and into their pocket. Y/N is closed off while Moon is limply open. Y/N is actively moving while Moon is on the floor, waiting, hoping, for that which he lacks the agency to reach for himself.

Frame 13. "I will lay down my heart" A close up on Moon’s hand, rising up again, perhaps to beckon Y/N back once more. This is a slight parallel to Y/N's hand reaching out to Moon. While Y/N can freely reach out and touch Moon, Moon cannot. He can't enter the light and more importantly he can't risk potentially harming his relationship with Y/N—be it through the glitch or by his feelings. He can only lay down his heart—put aside his feelings or hope that someone will pick up his pieces and make him whole.

Frame 14. "and I'll feel the power" Still on a close up on Moon’s hand, now clenched in slightly. This initially was going to have the glitch effects. However, I felt it more meaningful for it to be left without. Leave it up for interpretation why Moon pauses his hand. What is the power that he alone feels and stays his hand?

Frame 15. "but you won't, no, you won't" A parallel to frame 1, a view of on Moon's back with his hand stretched out towards the light, and Y/N walking into the light spilling through the open daycare door.

The placement of the lyrics suggest two different “you won’t”—Y/N who won’t realize Moon’s feelings, and Moon who won’t dare speak them into reality.

Another note on the parallel to frame 1, this time we also see Y/N's back, but it is notably different from our view of Moon's back. With Moon, we literally see inside him through the hole for his loop. However, Y/N is shrouded in shadow, just a solid, obscure silhouette against the bright light of a world Moon—and Sun for that matter—are closed off from. We don’t see into Y/N, just as the Daycare Attendant doesn't have any vantage point of Y/N's life beyond their time at the PizzaPlex. (The unfortunate reality of a being a character made for the purpose of being a vessel for the reader.)

Frame 16. "'cause I can't make you love me" We finally cut to face Moon head-on, frozen in place with his hand stretched out, unable to cross the boundary into the light. His eyes have gone dark. Where we began by seeing bits and parts of Moon, and never seeing his full face—now we, the viewer, see the full Moon, open and vulnerable—unbeknownst to Y/N.

Frame 17. "if you don't" But in the dark, behind closed doors, there is no one to perceive him—no one to receive him. The light dwindles as the daycare doors are closed. Moon stays frozen where he kneels. It is no longer the glitch that plagues him, but a far deeper dread.

But a lone streak of light peaks through the gap in the daycare doors. Perhaps that is just enough. A silver lining. A frail hope. A single, ethereal thread out of darkness and into light.

Thanks for reading and watching!

We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fun and games shortly!

[delicatepointofview]

— Austin, TX. (07/07)

[gojoest]

can we … please

[ruvviks]

sweet sunshine girl ☀️ ↳ shots by the talented @mojaves, edited by me!

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @lestatlioncunt, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @bialanwake;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel

[i-may-be-anyone]

"よく眠れ小さな星"

New sketch for a futur fanart of GITM by @venomous-qwille !

Misuta this time, he's so soft and calm I needed to do something with this awesome jester <3

Also : this is not my oc this time but BK's one on discord (if you have tumblr please let me know I'll tag you sweetie)

(Ambiant songs in the second part of this post)

[the-kipsabian]

[coconut530]

BLOOD OATHS AND BAD OMENS

[kindaaaverage]

[strawberri-draws]

royal portrait of the alien moon queen (oc)

[tojiscrack]

NO WAY i literally just read liar liar on ao3 and boom you’re on my tumblr feed! i love the story so so much omg and i absolutely ADORE how mc is a total menace! plusss the way u write megumi and the dynamic between him and mc ughhhhh like oh my god???!!! anyways yeah ur amazing mwah

wait i feel like i’ve seen this comment before but now i can’t find it? 😭 idk if i’m going crazy but i swear i was gonna respond, i’m just a little lazy with it 😔✌️ (cringing at the idea that if it wasn’t actually you, this is gonna sound weird to you LMAO)

anyway, it’s like tumblr just KNOWS who my beloved little liars are that my shit is then magically appearing on ur feed (we love to see it 😮‍💨).

our main character is a little unhinged (a little is probably an understatement). you’ve only seen the beginning really, i’ve still got multiple flashback scenes i need to write out because her shenanigans didn’t just stop there (megumi would know 💀). i’m flattered that you love her character sm! writing it was amazing knowing that people like you would take the time out of ur day to send me a message about how much you adore her <3

this leads me to talk about her dynamic with megumi, you’re gonna make me cryyy, i’m touched that you really like it 🥹 it’s a lot of effort trying to get his character to mesh well with hers, i have to rethink sometimes and ask myself whether he’d really do some of the things i’d made him do, but then i’d backtrack and delete everything, you have no idea 😭 now i just chalk it up to the fact that no, he wouldn’t do any of these things (prank-calling his dad, writing a step-by-step guide for a girl about oral hygiene, fighting over a seat that puts some distance between him and a disgusting-looking child, laughing about literal mommy milkers, etc) at all. but yes, he would do these things if he was around such an influencer like y/n (majority of the time, she forces him to do stuff. he does enjoy it though.)

sorry this ended up being so long, i just get very giddy talking about this story with anyone. i love you anon <3

[lunaetis]

[ you can tell i'm stressed & tired when i actively bounce between fluff & horny ]

[writing-good-vibes]

For Valentine's Day, number 1 under angsty prompts. The Replacement. A little bit of jealous ex!Corey maybe...

ahh thank you for your req !!

WARNINGS for (past) corey x gn!reader, jealousy, mildly stalkerish behaviour, dark post accident!corey, mentions of joan being The Worst and mild implications of violence.

💔 very cute divider by @/firefly-graphics 💔

taglist: @slutforstabbings @ethanhoewke @voxmortuus (just let me know if you want to be added or removed !!)

Corey didn't like being jealous. Being jealous made his stomach ache, a horrible sickly feeling deep down in his gut that wouldn't go away, made worse by his tossing and turning at night while he tried to sleep. Being jealous made his fingers hurt, and he'd clench them into fists, hard enough for his blunt nails to leave red crescents in his palms, to try and ease the pressure in his sore knuckles. Being jealous made his eyes water and his chest tight and it made him want to scream, sat in his bed alone at night, watching the radio tower blink tauntingly through his window.

But Corey couldn't help it, Corey was jealous.

Maybe it was his own fault -- it was definitely his own fault -- that you didn't want him anymore, that you got out the first chance you had, that you chose to dodge the bullet that is Corey 'Kid Killer' Cunningham.

And he can't really blame you because he knows that you were getting bored with his reluctance to go anywhere, and with all his nervous habits he still hadn't been able to shake.

He knows it's because the looks got too much for you. Because the mutterings behind your back were starting to take their tole. Because the soda thrown at him from a car window as you walked down the street was only a taste of what was to come.

He really only had himself to blame, and yet he couldn't make himself let go of you so easily. Especially not now he'd seen his replacement.

It's difficult not to compare himself. Corey's been monitoring his placement in every league possible since middle school; popularity, academics, looks. He'd skated along in the middle of the pack popularity-wise, which suited him just fine, and he was never quite top of the class but he was close enough to keep his GPA up, and well... he wasn't winning any prizes compared to some of the guys at school, but he'd lived with it.

But next to his Replacement? Oh, Corey never stood a chance.

And Corey doesn't want to do this. Of course he doesn't. He sees you from across the street, holding his hand. He sees walk you around the dollar store while he pushes the cart. He sees you take him back to your place. And he follows you back to his sometimes too.

Momma's upset with him when he's late for dinner.

It's funny how much he still misses you, even when he sees you all the time. You smile and your smile is like sunshine. You look and your eyes are sharp and clever and deep enough to drown in. Your voice, god he could listen to you forever and ever and never get bored.

He closes his eyes and thinks about it, reconfigures all these sightings onto himself. You smile at him, you look at him, you talk to him, not his replacement

He's cold, and his stomach aches, and his fingers hurt, and his chest is tight when you open your door. He doesn't remember looking through the kitchen draw, or leaving home, or when his cheeks got so wet.

"Corey? Is everything okay?"

Momma always told him no one else would ever love him, and that's Corey down to the bone: always wanting something he can't have.

on the topic of jealousy, you should also read [warnings apply]:

clean again by blake (@/slutforstabbings). after corey survives the events of ends he travels south and, against his better judgement, falls in love with the reader. corey's jealous streak is strong in this story, but it comes up most directly in chapter 7.

rock bottom by toxic (@/toxicanonymity). corey can't decide if he wants to do the reader or michael, so he does both. and even though he gets the best of both worlds, he's still somehow jealous of both of his partners.

[crouching-mouse]

I did it....I made it all the way to the end...😭

+ some celebratory Anzu & G'raha because this is my blog, dammit

I really enjoyed this last bit of MSQ. Even if G'raha is staying behind (for now) I'm so excited to go see Tural!!

[finnpeach]

Memory - Trigun Stampede

guess who's still going on about trigun stampede. anyway we aren't surprised, here's our favourite eulogist wolfwood with a cold and being a big grump to vash (with a touch of angst because if it's a finnpeach fic there will be angst). comments, tags, and feedback always loved and giggled over <3

once again set between episode 4 and 5, but slight spoilers if you haven't seen episode 6 :)

It takes two days for them to get closer to the next outpost after their second encounter with a worm. On the way, they ran into a couple of travelers that needed help, and Vash obviously insisted they stop and assist them. The next day when they set out again, the car broke down and Roberto and Vash had to spend the whole day trying to fix it until it ran again. 

Wolfwood had started feeling a dull ache in his head and a soreness in his throat the night they escaped the first worm. He chalked it up to being dehydrated, but when he woke up the next morning with a throbbing pain in his sinuses and a cough in his chest, he knew he’d caught a cold. 

He hasn’t been sick since his days at the orphanage. Frankly, he doesn’t even know how he got sick, but guesses he picked something up when they were inside the worm, or just simply from over exhausting himself the past few days. Either way, he feels like shit and is starting to lose his capacity for hiding it.

Vash, of course, is the first to notice. They’re sitting in the backseat of the vehicle, watching the next outpost grow closer when the first sneeze of many sneaks up on Wolfwood. He has barely enough time to rip the cigarette out of his mouth before—

“Huh’EGhZTSSHh!” He steeples his hands over his nose and mouth, cigarette pinched between his pointer and middle finger as he pitches forward in the seat. Ugh, that had hurt his throat. Wolfwood slumps back into the seat with a sniffle and rubs at his nose, beginning to feel miserable.

“Are you okay?” There comes that soft, sensitive voice, dripping with genuine concern. Wolfwood fights the urge to roll his eyes. Vash is looking at him with an inquisitive gaze, leaning forward slightly towards him as if to get a better look.

Wolfwood grits his teeth. “I’mb fide,” he mutters, hating that his voice is already thick with congestion. He places the cigarette against his lips and puffs out a cloud of smoke in an irritated huff. Meryl and Roberto are bickering away up front, oblivious to their conversation. 

“You shouldn’t smoke if you have a cold.” 

God, does he ever let up? “I told you I’mb fide, needle-noggid, let it go. It was just a sdneeze.”

He takes another long drag from his cigarette. Unfortunately, he does not prove his point. The smoke catches in his throat and sends him into a coughing fit. 

Suddenly, there’s a hand against his back, patting him through the fit. It’s surprising enough to distract him from the tightness in his throat and make the coughs subside.  

Vash is smiling at him, his hand extended across Wolfwood’s back. Wolfwood slaps at his wrist with a growl and turns back towards the window. He wishes Vash would just leave him alone. 

Hurt, Vash whimpers a little and rubs his wrist. He aches to do something for him, but decides it’s best to leave Wolfwood be for a bit, lest he gets bitten.

They decide to make camp about a half a mile from the outpost. It’s getting late and they don’t want to sneak into the town when there’s likely to be police or headhunters crawling about at night. Meryl and Roberto busy themselves with the sleeping rolls and dinner while Vash and Wolfwood set up the fire. 

The sneezing has only coupled in frequency since they’ve stopped to make camp. He’s had to forgo carrying around his cross just to make sure he doesn’t slip a disc every time a sneeze makes him pitch forward.

“Hh’EGHTSHHhh! Hh’EHGXSTh’huh!” Wolfwood nearly drops the firewood that time, stumbling forward in the sand. Vash is there in an instant and steadies him with a hand to his shoulder. 

Wolfwood shakes his head and tosses the firewood down. “Thagks,” he mumbles, coughing offhandedly into his wrist. His sinuses feel heavy with snot and his throat is killing him. He wishes the sand would swallow him whole right now.

Vash passes him a water flask and Wolfwood hesitates a second as he unscrews the cap. He doesn’t want to get everyone else sick if they share the flask, so he decides to waterfall it instead.

“See? I knew it.” Vash says with an elated grin, noticing Wolfwood’s caution. He looks like a kid who just guessed a riddle correctly. “You are sick. You should—“

“You should mind your own business, blondie. Leave me alone.” Wolfwood thrusts the flask against Vash’s chest and crouches down to arrange the firewood. His head is pounding. He’d like nothing more than to get out of this sun and lay down in a nice bed, or take a bath, or anything rather than be out here in the sweltering desert with a cold that’s growing worse by the minute. He lights a piece of newspaper on fire and sets it amongst the wood, watching as the sparks float up into the sunset sky.

Vash, despite looking like a puppy that’s been kicked, leaves him alone and heads over to Meryl and Roberto. They exchange some words, and then Vash is gone.

Good riddance, Wolfwood thinks. Maybe now he can sneeze in peace without being fussed over. He lights another cigarette and sits down by the fire. The smoke tingles in his sinuses as he inhales and he ends up sneezing again. 

“Huh’EHDSSHhT’chuh! Hih.. hih’EHDZSSH’YUE! Hhh.. he’eh…!” He catches the loud, grating sneezes into his hands, biting the cigarette between his teeth. The last one leaves him hanging, sitting there with his head tilted back, eyebrows twitching in sneezy irritation, the cigarette dangling on his bottom lip. When it still doesn’t come, he decides to try something that used to work when he was younger. He taps the side of his nose and the effect is immediate. 

“H’EHTSssHhh’ue! Heh’EHDTZzSSH’huh!” He doesn’t have enough time to cover and the cigarette shoots out of his mouth with the final spraying sneeze, landing pathetically in the sand. His shades are askew on his nose, which has started to run profusely. To add insult to injury, his sneezes have gathered attention again.

“Jeez, Wolfwood, that sounds bad. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Meryl asks as she unrolls her bed roll a few feet away from the fire. Roberto does the same. He’s not looking at Wolfwood, but he’s clearly listening.

“Will you all just shut up? I’b fide. Drop it.” He pulls his cigarette pack out of his pocket and clicks his tongue against his teeth when he sees that there’s none left. 

He turns to Roberto, who is currently taking a heavy drag off his own cigarette. “Hey, you got another cigarette I can borrow?” 

“Sorry, kid, but Vash told me not to give you one till your cold gets better.” Roberto chuckles as Wolfwood's face twists in pure rage. 

“Where is needle-noggid adyway?” Wolfwood sniffles back his congestion. He despises how hoarse his voice is starting to sound. 

“He didn’t tell you? He went into town to get medicine. Should be back soon,” Meryl says as she passes around cans of stew. It’s their meagre dinner for the evening until they can resupply at the next town.

Wolfwood wants to rip his hair out. He can literally feel the irritation and anger bubbling in him like hot steam in a teapot. How many times does he have to tell him to fuck off? He doesn’t need medicine, and he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. He rejects the proffered can of stew and opts to lay down on his bedroll, wishing sleep would take him and get him away from these people that care too much. 

After about an hour or so of laying there feeling sorry for himself, Vash reappears above him. The sun has nearly completely set, save for a few strokes of pink and red that paint the sky.

Vash looks down at him with a soft, gentle grin. Wolfwood wants to smack the smile off his face. 

“Hey, Wolfwood, I got you some medicine from the town. You should take it so you don’t get worse.” Vash hands him a little packet of pills and the water flask again. 

Wolfwood is beyond fighting at this point. His muscles ache with fatigue, and a sinus headache is starting to creep up on him. He takes two of the pills and downs them with the water before flopping back down on his bedroll again. It’s starting to get cold now that the sun is down, though it could be a fever settling in. Either way, he wraps his arms around himself and scoots closer to the fire as Vash and Meryl and Roberto start chatting. Above, the sky is bright with millions of twinkling stars, and the moon casts her soft luminescent gleams over them. His eyes grow heavy and his breathing starts to deepen. Wolfwood lets the sound of their conversation and the crackle of the fire lull him to sleep. 

He dreams for the first time in a while. He’s a child again and is back at the orphanage. He’s alone, laying in the infirmary with only a thin blanket to stop the shivers that rack his entire body. It’s so cold. 

This is a distant memory to him. Everything seems cloudy, grey, hazy. He can’t make sense of it. Had it happened this way? He’d had a high fever, and was quarantined away from the other children. Only one managed to sneak in to see him.

“Nico?” Comes a small, cautious voice. What was once a dim, grey memory now bursts alight with colour in his presence.

“L-Livio,” he says through chattering teeth. Livio is standing beside the bed, unsure. He’s never wandered somewhere unknown without Wolfwood. How did he get into the infirmary? 

“G-Go away, you’ll get sick.” He coughs into his fist, twisting away from the other boy as much as possible. 

Livio doesn’t answer, just stares at Wolfwood with his big owl eyes and looks him over. Silently, he climbs into bed under the blanket and curls against his friend’s side. His face nuzzles against Wolfwood’s neck as he wraps his smaller body around him. 

Warmth spreads through his body as if he’s being caressed by the summer sun. The shivers slowly start to subside, no match against the warmth, as he relaxes against Livio. 

Yes, this is exactly how it happened. 

Except, his grey hair is starting to tickle his nose, and the sensation is so real that it wakes him up. 

Wolfwood awakes with a start. “Livio?” Where is he?

He takes a moment to gather his bearings. He’s not at the orphanage, he’s camped out under the stars with two journalists and an outlaw. Right. 

The burning itch in his nose is back. Something feathery and blonde is tickling his nostrils, and he looks down to see someone nestled against his shoulder, their body curled around his. Its owner is snoring softly beneath him. 

Vash?!

“H’EGhNXT’shh!” Wolfwood sneezes as the tickle becomes too strong, twisting his head to the side so he doesn’t sneeze all over Vash. Anger sparks in his chest like a fuse.

Wolfwood shoves the sleeping Vash off of him and scrambles away. The cold is eager to reclaim him and seeps into his body in an instant.  

“Vash! What the fuck?!” He hisses, like water pouring over coals.

Vash gives a little start and shakes his head. “Huh…?” He gazes up at Wolfwood with sleepy, confused eyes. He seems surprised to suddenly find himself laying on the ground. 

“Why were you sleeping on me?!” There’s a heavy weight across his body. Wolfwood looks down to see Vash’s red coat lying across him, keeping out the cold desert air. 

Vash yawns and rubs his eyes. “You were shivering, so I came over to keep you warm. And you were talking in your sleep for a while. Who’s Livio?” 

Wolfwood feels panic rise within him at hearing someone speak Livio’s name. He grabs the red coat and tosses it at Vash’s face, who doesn’t catch it in time and ends up wrestling the coat off his head, falling onto his back.

“No one. Go back to sleep,” he growls, turning onto his side so his back is facing Vash. He wants to forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to that dream. And now that he’s awake, he’s rudely reminded of how sick he feels.

He shivers involuntarily when a sharp breeze howls against his back, the sensation chilling him to the bone. Wolfwood sniffles and tries to ignore the fact that he needs to sneeze again. He pinches his nose, rubs it angrily against his sleeve, but it’s no good. 

“Hih’EDTZSSHhh’uh!” He tents his hands over his nose again to catch the wet sneeze. He sniffles thickly and coughs, his eyes brimming with irritated tears. Suddenly, there’s a heavy weight placed down gently across him. Wolfwood opens his eyes to see Vash tucking his red coat around the curve of his body.

“I told you I dod’t need—“

“Just sleep with it tonight, okay? You do need it.” His tone is firm, commanding. It’s so different from his typical soft, kind voice. It leaves no room for argument. Vash tucks in one final corner around his hips before laying back down again. 

Wolfwood relents and decides that being warm under Vash’s coat beats shivering all night long. He tucks his chin under the coat and closes his tired eyes, feeling himself dragged into sleep like a helpless rowboat at sea. As his mind starts to teeter between reality and sleep, he lets his dreams wander back to Livio again, and returns to the peaceful embrace of memory.

[hootsiegrimgrin]

HOOT!!!!

Hoothoothoot Hoot HOOTHOOTHOOT HOOHOOT!!!