#this isn't poetry but it'll have to do?

[justabunchofdragons]

o... .. .,,, ! !!! i am very happy with where i am in this moment

[kmarttelescope13]

coming to terms with being aro and/or ace isn't really talked about and i feel like it should be, especially the uglier aspects of it. like yes i know being ace is fine and good and totally natural, i know this, but it doesn't change the fact that i feel so terrible about myself. like i feel like a dick because i can't just be happy for my friends when they get into relationships and i feel like i constantly have to justify why i feel the way i do and nobody understands my critiques of dating culture and our conception of romance in general because it works for them, but it doesn't work for me, and nobody wants to put in the work to understand that. like whenever i talk about it with my friends there's always this underlying attitude of "you'll get it once you find The One," but maybe i'll never find The One, and maybe i don't want to.

online you see a lot of positivity and acceptance, and that's great. it really helps people. there's just something about logging off and being constantly bombarded with romance novels, films, poetry, all of it, that makes you feel like a freak. and you get so angry because nobody seems to understand and you're realizing that you'll never get married but all your friends will and you'll slowly lose more and more of your support network until you're just alone with a cat in a shitty apartment. like logically i know it won't be that way and i should just meet some ace people irl but goddamn it really fucks you up at first.

anyway if your coming to terms with your aro/ace-ness manifests as self-hatred, i see you and i'm with you and it's normal. i promise it'll be okay eventually. in the meantime you simply have to "fuck it we ball" through it

[moonsaver]

Good day moon! Okay I normally don't do asks when it comes to yandere cause it's not my usual thing but seeing the last post you made of Yan!Sunday and his darling, that one where he just desperately wants to have that normalcy in their relationship but couldn't ever have it because of what he's done, made me think of something rather angsty; like how the darling's backlashes against his affections would probably go turn for the worst as time passes on, they don't hate him in a sense because he's really trying hard to not make them hate him and they can see that his love is real (just really fucked up) but that deep urge to hurt the person who took their freedom away is still there, it wouldn't just go away just because he loves them so much that he wouldn't dare to break them. Oh that satisfaction on seeing Sunday looking so hurt after yelling at him, they know it doesn't make them any better than him but at that point, what else is there for them to lose? Maybe in hurting him so subtly, they may find some pity in themselves for him to actually give him some semblance of love but until then, all Sunday ever receives from them are either silent treatment or backlash

Such relationship could only thrive in the worst way possible and maybe Sunday knows that but even then, he still holds out that little (delusional) hope that maybe his darling will still love him someday

Sorry for the rant, it's just that I feel for Sunday but his method will never work and it'll just deeply hurt him and his darling in the end asgfjgsfg also if it's alright, I'd request this but I'll leave it to you with how you write it, be it an imagine or anything else since I'm fine with it!

- Elys

Hello Elys! Im so sorry it took a long time for me to get to your request lol, tons of things got in the way but I remembered this request for a while.

In any case, I feel you've summed it up quite well!

Sunday isn't harsh or as brutal as I imagine him. Unlike my [i have to self advertise here, sorry HAHA] soft yan!blade, Sunday most likely wouldn't even need a bit of working around to be a softer yandere.

He's so loving, it's painful. His love is like despaired poetry for a lover who is still alive, just further than their reach. I imagine his love to be very tender, even as a yandere, if he doesn't become even softer.

And it's hard to convince him he's wrong – mainly because he already knows. But rather that's a bit distorted in his view; instead he thinks it's a wrongdoing against your nature as someone who wants to be free, but correct in the context of the situation rather than actually understanding it is absolutely wrong in general. And he doesn't budge. He's stubborn, almost infuriatingly. And instead of getting angry, I imagine he rather looks disappointed or disgruntled, which somehow does more damage/strikes more fear than anger.

And it's still heartbreaking; frustratingly for both of you, not just yourself.

You lash out, you scream, cry, wail, argue, relentlessly push and resist against him. it's your only way of getting back at him, you're sure as hell you're going to strike the hardest that way. And you relish the hurt you see in the eyes of your captor, but something more sympathetic tugs at you when you see his lovingly sad eyes. It's this cacophony of guilt, frustration, anger, and utter despair at the loss of your freedom. Sunday feels all of it, aswell, and you want to be relieved that he does – if it weren't for the fact he still wasn't letting you go.

He continually withholds your freedom from you. That single injustice to you is enough to weather your patience over time – your anger only burns hotter and hotter, pushing away any semblance of sympathy or reasoning, and it only hurts Sunday more, until you realise what you're doing, and quietly give in to sooth him for the time being. Just a little. Until that little injustice starts bothering you again. It's a toxic cycle.

And it hurts even more when Sunday tries to find normalcy in your relationship; he's trying so hard to be your lover, to hold you gently and bathe you with care, to dry you off and still love you after seeing you bare. He wants to come home and see you smile, be happy, elated that he's there, just as he feels when he sees you. But that's not what happens. His delusions and flimsy expectations are shattered the moment he steps into the dimly lit room, your form refusing to even look at him. The silence is strangely stronger than his hopes.

Anyways, that's all i can think of at the moment. I love angst yandere sunday time.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Can we hear about the day Lazard snapped from the firsts shenanigans?

The Day Lazard Finally Snapped

• It all starts when Angeal and Sephiroth are passing through the Skyview Hall when they spot Reeve with a baby in a holder strapped to his chest.

Angeal: Hey Reeve! I didn't know you had a child.

Reeve: I don't. This is my assistant's baby. I allow her to bring him in on occasion since childcare is hard to find. She asked me to watch him while she's in a meeting, but⏤

Sephiroth: What kind of mother abandons her child?

Reeve: ⏤but I have to meet with the editor of Architecture Weekly in ten minutes.

Sephiroth: What kind of mother abandons her child with a strange man who works for Shinra?

Angeal: I'm sorry to hear that, director.

Reeve: Wait, could you two watch him? It'll only be for an hour.

Angeal: I don't think⏤

*Reeve hands the child to Angeal, who is now sweating bullets*

Reeve: Great, thanks! By the way, I'm supposed to be locating some materia that went missing from the inventory this morning. Do you mind finding them for me? Here's the list.

*Reeve hands Angeal the list, Angeal hands the baby to Sephiroth, who holds it like a bomb with his arms outstretched*

Angeal: Reeve, I really don't think we⏤

Reeve: Great! See 'ya!

• Reeve literally sprints away. Angeal looks back at Sephiroth, who has now strapped the baby to the carrier on his chest. Angeal looks down at the list.

Angeal: Three Ifrit summons, sixteen fire materia, nine ice materia, thirty chocobo lures, four petrify materia, and seventeen lightning materia.

Sephiroth: The baby is crying because it wants its mother. I feel a strange kinship with this child.

Angeal: Why would someone need thirty chocobo lures??

Sephiroth: There, there. Don't cry because your mother abandoned you, rejoice because your father isn't Professor Hojo.

*Angeal grows exasperated and turns to Sephiroth*

Angeal: Seph, it's hungry. We need to feed it.

Sephiroth: Where will we find someone with functioning mammary glands on such short notice?

Angeal: FORMULA. GET THE FORMULA IN THE BABY BAG.

*The baby cries more, Sephiroth holds it closer to him*

Sephiroth: You're upsetting our child.

Angeal: IT'S NOT OUR⏤*Angeal takes a deep breath*⏤It's not our child, give it the baby formula, and let's go. We still need to find the culprit behind the stolen materia.

Sephiroth: Do you mind if we stop by Professor Hojo's lab first? I want to show him what competent fathership looks like.

Angeal: No. And you're acting insane. Here, give me the baby.

Sephiroth: I have only had this child for three minutes, but if anyone tries to hurt it or take it away I will kill everyone here.

Angeal: When this is all over, I'm signing you up for art therapy and getting you a cat.

• Lazard is away on a business trip and has left Genesis in charge. He's supposed to be getting work done, but instead he's sitting in Lazard's office with his feet up, reading a romance novel.

Genesis: I don't understand why Lazard complains all the time. This is the easiest position in this company.

•There's a violent crash right outside the office, followed by Zack's voice going "Wow! I didn't know the ceiling was that easy to break."

*Genesis gets up at the speed of light. He runs out and sees Zack and Cloud with tennis rackets*

Genesis: What are you doing? I thought I sent you far away on a mission to Cosmo Canyon.

Zack: We got back early! And since Angeal's busy there's no point in training. Plus, my mission report can wait until Lazard's back.

Genesis: And what's Strife doing here? Last I recall this is the SOLDIER floor, not the Infantrymen Who Look Like Baby Chocobos floor.

Cloud: Could've fooled me. I saw you and thought this was the Sephiroth Is Better Than Me So I Take It Out On Bad Poetry floor.

Genesis: Listen here⏤

*Zack jumps between them*

Zack: We were just playing some tennis! Where's the harm in that?

Genesis:

Genesis: Zack where's the ceiling

*They look up and six ceiling panels are missing*

Zack: We're playing pro tennis.

Genesis: Goddess.

Cloud: But we lost all of our balls and now we can't play anymore.

Genesis: Hm. Have you tried substituting them with something else?

Cloud: Like what?

Genesis: Materia are round and large enough to work.

Zack: Good idea, but we don't have any to spare.

Genesis: I have some.

*Genesis pulls a key out of his pocket, walks across the hall, and unlocks a supply closet where he pulls out a crate full of materia*

Zack: Woah! How many do you have in there?

Genesis: Three Ifrit summons, sixteen fire materia, nine ice materia, thirty chocobo lures, four petrify materia, and seventeen lightning materia.

Cloud: Why does the box say Property Of Shinra Electric Power Company? Wait, did you steal this??

Genesis: There is no such thing as stealing if your victim stole it from the planet.

Zack: Why thirty chocobo lures??

Genesis: Do not presume to question my actions.

• Sephiroth and Angeal have no leads on the missing materia, so they decide to go ask the turks for any information they have. They walk into a conference room where Tseng and Rufus are talking.

Tseng: WHY do you have a baby??

Sephiroth: Two men cannot raise a child without being criticized.

Angeal: We're babysitting.

Rufus: How may we help you?

Angeal: A crate of materia went missing from the inventory. Reeve asked us to locate it. Any chance you have an idea where it went?

Rufus: We were just going over the security footage, actually. A stunning, beautiful woman was seen entering and leaving with the stolen materia.

Tseng: Come take a look.

*They walk over and watch the security footage*

Sephiroth:

Angeal:

Angeal: That's GENESIS.

Tseng: Impossible. I had no idea Rhapsodos was a master of disguise.

Sephiroth: He's not even in disguise. He wore that dress to a Loveless performance yesterday. *said while he rocks the baby to sleep*

Rufus: Sephiroth, would you mind accompanying me to meet my father? I'd like to show him what adequate fathership looks like.

Sephiroth: Gladly.

Angeal: *exasperated* We'll get the materia back from Genesis, don't worry. There's no need to get involved, and we'll make him promise not to do it again.

Tseng: Actually, the issue is much more annoying. You see, the crate he stole contained faulty materia. We're not sure they even work, but if they do there might be some...explosive consequences.

Angeal: Don't worry, knowing Genesis, he's hording the materia somewhere until the search dies down and hasn't actually used it yet.

*The baby hasn't fallen asleep and is wide awake*

Sephiroth: Of course, how could I be so foolish? The baby needs to be tired out through playtime and proper enrichment first.

*Rufus takes a box of ammunition from his coat pocket and uses it as a rattle. The baby laughs*

Tseng: Sir, I don't think that's an appropriate toy for a baby.

Sephiroth: Nonsense. I had that toy when I was younger and I turned out fine.

Angeal: No the fuck you did not.

• Zack and Cloud's tennis match with materia is going smoothly. Genesis has made himself the umpire and is officiating the match. They're in Lazard's office so no one catches them slacking off.

*Cloud hurles a fire materia toward Zack at top speed. Zack shrieks and ducks*

Genesis: Five love.

Zack: No fair! He's just aiming it right at me!

Cloud: Because you're my opponent. That's how tennis works.

*Cloud sends another chocobo lure Zack's way that hits him right in the face*

Genesis: Six love.

Zack: WE GET IT, YOU'RE OBSESSED WITH LOVELESS. SHUT UP.

Genesis: ......

Cloud: I really need to get back and start getting ready for patrol tonight.

Zack: Nooo, come on! Just one more try! I'll beat you, you just watch.

• Cloud sighs and readies himself. Zack grabs a lightning materia and serves. Cloud hits the materia when it reaches him. Except this time it fuses with the tennis racket and starts hissing and billowing smoke. Cloud panics and lets the tennis racket drop. It starts glowing and vibrating.

• All of the littered materia on the office floor start emitting the same low whistle and vibrating, all at once.

• Genesis senses the incoming explosion. He grabs Zack and Cloud and dives under the desk.

• Lazard comes back from his business trip early. He's in the elevator thinking about the decision to leave Genesis in charge. He had initially meant to bequeath Sephiroth the responsibility, but felt for Genesis. They're always placing him second next to Sephiroth, constantly berating and expecting the worst from him.

• He thinks it's unfair. Genesis is one of the most competent SOLDIERs in the program. He's hardworking, responsible and authoritive. There's no doubt in Lazard's mind that everything is running smoothly in his absence.

*Lazard opens his office door*

• The three Ifrit summons went off and are raging, smashing the walls and ceilin. The fire materia also went off and now everything is on fire. It's shooting fire balls and one of them burned the office door clean off, shattering the glass. The ice materia has caused a raging blizzard inside the office and everything that isn't on fire is freezing over. The lightning materia is causing firework-like explosions to go off.

• Lazard stands there for a good five minutes, petrified (literally) (the petrify materia hit him)

• Once the last blast of lightning goes off and things seem to have quieted down, Genesis, Zack and Cloud poke their heads up from under the desk.

Zack: Hey, director! We didn't expect you back so early!

Cloud: How was the business trip? Have fun?

Genesis: My, my, director, that suit makes you look dashing. Have you done something to your hair?

• It's a poor choice of words because half of Lazard's hair is on fire.

*Angeal runs in*

Angeal: Genesis, you crook. Did you use Lazard's access card to steal all that materia?? Do you know how mad he's going to be when he finds out? He's already in trouble with upper management because he left you in charge.

*Zack points to Lazard in the corner, Angeal turns around*

Angeal: Oh. Oh no.

• And then the chocobo lures go off. Thirty grown chocobos come speeding into the office, two of them knocking Lazard to the ground.

• And then, as if things couldn't possibly get any worse, Sephiroth runs in with the baby.

Sephiroth: Angeal, how dare you abandon me and our child??

Angeal: Oh my god.

• The Firsts and Zack are sitting in the briefing room when Tseng walks in.

Tseng: Good morning. As you all know, Lazard has taken a medical leave. I'll be taking his place while he's away.

Genesis: How is he? I tried to visit him in the hospital yesterday, but apparently the mere mention of my name sent him into another cardiac arrest.

Tseng: He's sedated and fine. Don't feel discouraged. Two Seconds went in to visit him this morning, but all it took was one look at a SOLDIER uniform and he started screaming.

Angeal: If he quits, it's on Zack, Gen and Strife. Sephiroth and I were busy hunting materia and babysitting.

Sephiroth: No. You were looking for the materia. I was taking adequate care of the baby and giving it the attention its mother denied it.

Tseng:

Tseng: Sephiroth

Tseng: Sephiroth why do you still have the baby?

*They look over and sure enough, Sephiroth has the baby in a carrier strapped to his chest*

Sephiroth:

Sephiroth: I'm the most competent adult in its life.

[oneofthosebells]

Thinking about ordinary.

Particularly in the context of 'Wille will never be able to lead an ordinary/normal life' (true) 'and therefore the ending doesn't work because abdicating doesn't actually solve his problems' (oof...I see where you're coming from but I've got to strongly disagree).

[Yes, I know it's not technically abdication, it's just a convenient shorthand!]

Wille will never be able to lead an ordinary life if by ordinary you mean a life like Simon would have led if they'd never met. He'll always be the son of a monarch, he'll always have been famous since birth, he'll always be ridiculously wealthy and privileged. But would he eventually be able to lead an 'ordinary' life by the standards of any privileged trust fund baby whose parent is a major public figure? Yeah, I think so.

There's a world of difference between being famous/wealthy/privileged but able to choose how to live your life - including the ability to choose a very private life if you want one - and being the literal head of state with absolutely no choice in the matter.

And yeah, I'm thinking about this because of all the footage of Harry and Meghan and their slightly odd pseudo-royal tour on the news. Which isn't a dig at H&M, I have no strong feelings about them one way or the other, but I've seen them used as a stick to beat the YR ending with ('it'll never work, look at Harry and Meghan'!). But Wille and Simon aren't Harry and Meghan.

And I don't just mean because they're fictional and H&M aren't, though actually you know what, that's important - it means that if I want to headcanon they can lead a fairly normal life once Wille's out of the line of succession then I can, nothing's stopping me. But also I cannot see Wilmon ever choosing to stay in the limelight by doing a tell-all Oprah interview, or a book or a podcast or a documentary, and I definitely can't see them doing a semi-royal tour where cameras follow them everywhere and where they sit in chairs(/thrones) and look awkward while people perform traditional dances for them. (Again, no shade! The circumstances and the people are very different, that's my point.)

I could see Wille going into academia or writing books about poetry, or maybe he owns a horse sanctuary and gets Sara to run it, or he co-owns a restaurant with Felice. Or all of the above, why not. He probably can't ever go and get a 'normal' job, but he won't need one - he'd have plenty of money to live on if he's living a fairly humble, non-extravagant lifestyle, and again, he's fictional, I can believe he'd happily do that with Simon if I want to.

Maybe they'd live abroad for a while to escape the attention - because with the best will in the world, the Scandinavian monarchies aren't worldwide famous in the way Diana and her children are, and Wille's video/speech/abdication would be a five minute wonder and probably quickly forgotten outside Sweden.

This is getting longer than I meant it to so I'll leave it there without going into Simon and how he fits into it all, because that's another three thousand words lol. Maybe I'll do a part 2. 😂

[mikareo]

⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HOPELESS ROMANTIC ; geto x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode four ! ꒱ . . . word count; 0.9k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ leaves are falling, and he is too

⊹ ⠀⠀ with so many love stories on the shelf, geto feels his heart being influenced. if he's going to fall in love with anyone...it's you.

contains; geto suguru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, love triangle

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

"suguru how do you expect me to read when my heart is in a million pieces?"

he doesn't think he's ever met a person as dramatic as you are.

"these books can't teach me how to get laid."

it's kind of cute, though. annoying...but cute.

with the november breeze sweeping the leaves from every tree on campus, winter is approaching fast and geto feels like your irritation towards gojo is at an overwhelming high. there really isn't anything he can do about it. after all, he wasn't there when you oh-so-spontaneously confessed your undying love for satoru on halloween; to which you received a brutal rejection...this is why geto doesn't date— especially why he doesn't date in a world run by satoru gojo.

now, geto has done his very best at trying to distract you from the devastating heartbreak that comes with loving his best friend. there have many so many girls before you who've tried to get on with him after being ignored by the white haired boy; which is extremely insulting that any of them thought geto would be an easy target or a second option to satoru. when geto does fall in love, he hopes that it'll be with someone who chooses him first. someone who doesn't even consider their other options and believes that he's the only person in the entire world who can fit with their uneven puzzle piece. clearly, gojo isn't the person to fit with yours.

"maybe you just need to sit down and be silent?" he purses his lips in annoyance, trying his best to focus on the words of poetry and rhyme. poems are the language of love. you could take some advice from these lines. "you're talking so much that you're not even enjoying the book."

you groan. "this book is boring. who the fuck reads poetry for fun?"

um. he does.

the glare he sends your way is intimidating, but also gentle. "what would you like to read instead? since you're such an avid reader?"

his sarcasm is meant to be insulting.

a mischievous smile creeps into the corners of your lips; smile likes yours used to scare him as a child after having seen alice in wonderland one too many times. he never understood the other children's fascination with a purple, talking cat. it's just weird. "how about this one!"

the book your present to him isn't anything he's read before. actually, it's something that he hopes to never read ever. "you're kidding."

"dead serious!"

how is a cheesy romance supposed to make you feel better?

"that's just going to make you feel worse, y'know." he gently takes the book from your hands and shuffles through the pages. with his head nodding along to each words his eyes skim, it's painfully obvious that you're going to read this book imagining the male lead to be satoru. "you have such an active imagination, you'll be heartbroken all over again."

with his words, your smile melts and geto knows he's right. "satoru is a lost cause in the romance department." he explains, scooting a little closer to you and rubbing your knee. the two of you have been seated on the floor of the lovely little bookshop near campus for an hour now. you're practically the only two people in the entire store, which has made this fake date feel a little more real. "i promise that you're better off dating anyone other than him."

you don't move away from the comfort of his palm, and instead lean into it; but your words are in defense of gojo. they always are. you can't seem to find it in your heart to let him go— no matter how awful of a rejection. "he's not a bad guy. he just needs a little help learning how to love."

the look in your eyes is earnest and geto sees that you believe your statements with your whole heart.

"i can be the person to help him learn."

there's no physical tell that you're upset, but he can somehow sense that you're about to cry. maybe it's the way you slightly tensed up with your body rejecting his soft touch or the way your gaze refused to meet his; no matter, he's going to cheer you up anyways. there aren't many people that geto can make smile— but somehow, in the past four months of being your friend (?), you've become the only person he cares to cheer up.

he murmurs your name in the most comforting, gentle voice that anyone's ever spoken to you. "you are the most talented, most interesting, and most extraordinary person in the universe; and you are capable of amazing things—"

"because you are the special. suguru, i've seen the lego movie. you're not being slick." aw man.

your tone of voice is irritated, yet you still laugh. yes, geto knows that might possibly have been the stupidest and cheesiest thing he's done in his whole life, but he doesn't care. he made you smile. him! not satoru. geto suguru made you smile. it's not something he'd win an olympic medal for, though in his mind it's worth more than that. he doesn't know when you became so special to him. he doesn't know how you managed to creep your way into his heart and cause this embarrassing blush to consume his cheeks; and he isn't bothered to figure it out.

he doesn't want to rejoice in your heartbreak...however, there is a tiny part of him that's happy satoru doesn't love you back.

maybe it's finally time suguru gets to be loved.

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[unmaskingdisability]

So you want to die (but shouldn't do that)

A list of ways I force myself to keep going even when my entire body is on fire & my brain feels like it's going through a cheese grater

MAKE A PLAN WITH SOMEONE YOU ACTUALLY LIKE - Not a friend you have to gear yourself up to hang out with. A good friend, that will cost low spoons, and plan to do something you enjoy. Nothing extravagant that requires a lot of energy, and it doesn't even have to be in the imminent future. Make a dinner plan for next week and think about that lilac lemonade you've been wanting to make for them. Make a plan to hang out later this month and watch anime with your friend that's good at bullshitting and making you laugh. You won't want to do this when you can't imagine leaving your bed. Do it anyways.

DRAG YOUR EXHAUSTED ASS OUTSIDE - Dress in as many layers as you need or just wrapped in a blanket. Wear sunglasses and headphones if you need. Don't force yourself to do anything, except being outside for at least a few minutes. Sometimes it's cold and wet and all I can handle is walking out for a minute. Sometimes it's warmer and pleasant and now I'm exhausted slumped in the sun or under a pine tree instead of in a dark dirty (mine is anyways bc of the wanting to die and pain) room

VENT - Look I'm the master hypocrite. I run a disability group and I still haven't told pretty much anyone in my life I had to quit my job after my body broke down too far too fast. I advocate emotional vulnerability all day and will legitimately enact it constantly, about everything except how fucking miserable and hopeless and depressed and in pain and scared I am. You don't want to tell anyone because you're convinced they already hate you or are about to leave. I'm not gonna say you need to get over that tonight. But you gotta get it out of your head and your muscles and your body. You've gotta write or draw or splash paint (I will literally fingerpaint just colors sometimes) or hack up invasive plants or make poetry or cry to the person you do feel comfortable talking to. You've gotta get it out You've gotta get it out and also! If being honest about your life and difficulties does push people away fuck them!! Community is everything and that's something they never were, so it's space for something real

GO SOMEWHERE NEW AND BEAUTIFUL - This is one of the hardest things to do when depressed, but if helps so much when you can get yourself somewhere new & exciting and show your brain good things are still happening. For me, this looks like going to a new park, or science/art museum, or to see some pretty lights strung up for the holidays. Nowhere so crowded or busy it'll be too overwhelming, you just need to show your brain everything isn't awful static and get some dopamine pumping.

I'll keep adding to this because I'm full of too much spite and exhaustion and reluctant extreme caring so much to leave you all alone in this shithole

[emerald-echeveria-plant]

((The movie ain't even out yet but here I am-))

B O W S E R

• The big bad turtle monster falls in love easily. When he first laid eyes on you, he knows you're the one for him. His one true love.

• Bowser doesn't have a type, he generally goes for anyone whoever he deems a perfect partner for him.

• Does NOT take "no" for an answer from you. If you try to resist or ignore his advances, he will forcefully take you as his. Stealing you away in the middle of the night on a flying ship. Luckily, two Italians lend a hand to help set you free.

• If you agree to advancements like his gifts and terrible cheesey poetry, Bowser will be head over heels for you even more than he was before. Someone FINALLY loves him back! Oh great joy! Bowser might just not destroy another kingdom for a while ;)

• Bowser will take you on extravagant and expensive dates. He'll take you to dinner, an amusement park, a museum, anything! Your wish is his command. Bowser only wants to make you happy. The dates always have to be perfect. Always. If something goes wrong, say the waiter forgets your drink or someone accidentally bumps into you, Bowser will flip his lid. He'll start shouting that to the person that they're ruining his date. You have to hold him back from hurting the poor bystander.

• You're the only one who can calm him down. If Bowser is having a temper tantrum or a fit, you have to comfort him before he destroys the whole castle. He quickly lightens up whenever you're around. Dropping one of his poor servants and going to you like Bowser is your lap dog. The best way to calm Bowser is to let him lay his head in your lap as he grumbles about what's been bothering him. Usually, something about the koopa troopas or the Mario brothers.

• Wants LOADS of kids. TONS. Bowser had always desired a big family when he was younger. So, be prepared for a bunch of little ones keeping you up at night or having to separate fights. Ah, but you'll love them regardless.

• No question asked, he is the big spoon in bed.

• Bowser will sing for you during one of your many romantic dates. He did a whole concert for you at one point! And he'll do it again. If you're into music too, Bowser is going to want you to sing and preform with him. You can't say no to him, he'll beg you too.

• Depending on who you are as a person, Bowser might become better or worse. If you're good, he'll try to do good things for you. Like stop invading other kingdoms and learn to control his temper. It'll be a drastic change from who he originally was. Bowser would do it because he loves you very much. Heck, he might even apologize to the Mario brothers and peach but don't get your hopes up now. If you're bad, mamma mia, you're essentially encouraging his behavior. Bowser will destroy an entire civilization to make you happy! Steal goods and jewels, giving it to you as a present. He'd create a new galaxy and make you it's queen/king! You two are the worst villian couple known to exist.

• Bowser loves showing off for you. Whether it's proving his strength or how tough he is, Bowser wants to make sure that you know your "hot boyfriend" isn't scared of anybody.

• has the koopas build you a custom throne right next to his throne. He wants you to be with him at all times and he thinks it would make for a great birthday present.

• Bowser's partner only gets the best clothing, food, and jewelry throughout all the kingdoms. Feeling peckish for something sweet? His bakers will make you five layered cake of your favorite flavor. Perhaps wanting a new outfit? Bowser purchases the entire goddamn mall so you can have a shopping spree. Maybe feeling a bit cold? He's got you covered, just wrap your arms around him and you'll warm up soon enough. Bowser doesn't mind at all. He'll work in some new plans or arrangements while you hold him tightly.

• Kamek didn't like you at first but eventually grew to. As long as you make Bowser happy, he's happy.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Do they keep a diary/a journal?

Mal - yes, actually. But no gross feelings stuff, ew. Just drawings. ...Of various levels of "disturbing". (Peak being begining of D2, of course)

Jay - nah. Better stuff to do. Also lowkey paranoid it'll be stolen.

Evie - yes, technically, multiple. She keeps one journal to jot down what was when done to any potions she's brewing (the correct scientific procedure), her fashion one, of course, for whatever designs she dreams of, and lastly, one to note down orders and payments for her shop.

Carlos - nah. He's got a collection of loose papers with important and "important" info on them. His cousins still keep finding them in Hell Hall. Jay has to move them from his parts of the room regularly. Mal found papers stuck in between her journal.

Uma - no. WAY more important shit to do, and she finds it way too sentimental. She keeps records of stuff important for the running of her crew, but doesn't consider it a journal, rather a public record.

Harry - yes. To the surprise if absolutely no one, the thing he writes most about is Uma. There are several original songs and poems for her as well. He wouldn't mind if she found it.

Gil - I wanna say yes, he tries. He's not very consistent though. The only thing he writes about is his friends and crewmates – he accidentally puts it down in the common space of the ship often, and most of the crewmates picked it up once. Cos, y'know. You see, you take. If they read it, they began blushing furiously under the excited "My friends are SO cool" Gil wrote and gave it back to him without a word.

Claudine - once she stops living with her father, yes, though it took some convincing. She doesn't write regularly, though, because she just doesn't know what to write, and is afraid of putting her thoughts on the paper. Later, she writes poems in letters so small it's illegible, since poetry masks the true self a bit.

Harriet - yes. She writes regularly, though not a lot of feelings stuff. She writes poems and vague stories draws whatever comes to her mind (mostly abstract stuff) and keeps it tightly locked up in her cabin, since that shit is DARK. Smee twins accidentally found it once and Sammy kept complaining they were afraid of her drawings for two weeks straight.

CJ - ...she tries to. It never lasts more than two days in row. But she adds new disjointed entry every time she's reminded that her older siblings do so. It's actually extremely disturbing in different way than Harriet's since she has ZERO ability to self-censor.

Freddie - two. One for music and one for dreams and card readings.

Celia - one. Dreams and Cards and Friends on the other side. Though, technically, both sisters share another one, written in cryptic code and abbreviations and moved from place to place with regularity but without a set schedule. This one is about secrets of the Isle residents, the ones they bother or dare to write down.

Dizzy - I wanna say yes, actual diary, feelings and all. To utter exasperation of all her older relatives.

Anthony - no, keeping tabs on the salon is enough, thank you.

Dulcia - look, my girl deserves a Burn Book.

Ginny - not really. If she absolutely NEEDS something noted down, she tells Anthony. Exception being medical notes at the Escape but she delegates paperwork away any time she can. Also, I feel like her handwriting is borderline illegible to anyone but her and the three people she shares mental disturbances with (Maddy, Anthony, Harriet)

Maddy - she keeps tabs on the Apothecary and like Evie, writes down the shit she's synthetising. It's only correct to do.

Ivy - Yeah she gets a burn book too. She deserves it <3. It's in one notebook with scraps from fashion magasines and and some kaligrams. (Again, that's a form of self-censure. Can't read it, so it isn't there.)

I think I ran out of Isle kids, so AKs (all regarding a diary):

Audrey - canonically she does, I have nothing else to add.

Ben - he tries to, but he doesn't manage to write regularly, what with being a CHILD KING and all. It's healthy for him tho. Took the habit from his mother.

Chad - I refuse to believe this boy has a diary. He views it as "useless" and "too feminine".

Jane - yes, actual diary full of feelings. Starting each entry with "dear diary". She locks it religiously though, since her mother can and will read it if give an oppurtunity to.

Ally - yes and frankly it should be studied and/or published (with different names for the sake of privacy, but i'd pay a lot to read a diary of Ally Liddel of Wonderland)

Lonnie - ...no. she tried to, few times, but never quite managed more than few entries in a row. She doesn't particularly like sitting still, and fancies the thought of someone actually reading what she thinks about certain stuff even less.

Jordan - ...she uses her blogs and vlogs as a diary. The more private ones. Not her Drama Channel.

[toomuchracket]

scary movies (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

day 3 of promptober75! this is less about scary movies than it is about the two of them musing on romance. but they do watch bones and all! i don't think there are any spoilers, but don't yell at me if there are please lol this isn't proofread. yeah, this is just a cutely weird little fic about some cutely weird people. i hope you enjoy!

"baaaaaaaabe, hurry up. i miss you!"

you can hear the pout in matty's voice, even from the next room of the hotel suite. picking up the bowl of m&ms in one hand and the open bottle of champagne in the other, you pad back into the bedroom. "how can you miss me? you've been with me the whole day."

"i always miss you when i'm not right beside you, no matter how long it's for," matty replies, sitting up on his knees on the bed to carefully take the bowl and bottle from your hands. the way his stomach muscles shift with the movement makes your knees run the risk of shaking. "the night before our wedding is going to be hellish for me. are you sure we can't just stay together? al green it?"

"baby, it's tradition."

"peer pressure from dead people, you mean."

"fine, another reason, then. oh, here's one - absence makes the heart grow fonder. you can't argue with Classical poetry."

"try me, babe."

you sigh. "matty, sweetheart, love and light of my life, sole occupant of my head and heart… it's only for twelve hours of our lives. and we will literally be on the same floor of the same building. it'll be fine!" 

matty quirks a brow.

god, he's stubborn. you inhale deeply before you talk again. "alright. i'll wait until the bridesmaids are asleep and then we can sneak out together for a walk. but i'm not sleeping with you at all - in either sense, actually - regardless of how crippling your separation anxiety is."

"i can work with that, darling. thank you," matty smiles and leans up to kiss you.

before he can, though, you place your index finger on his pretty lips. "not so fast, healy, i have a caveat: i'll only do it if we can share a cig."

matty rolls his eyes, and nudges your finger from his face with a quick head movement. "should've seen that one coming. christ, fine. one cigarette, and that's it. don't want any rattling coughing fits during our vows."

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him; the speed with which his face softens afterwards is comical, almost cartoon-like. "thanks, angel."

"mmm, can't wait to marry you," matty murmurs against your lips. "nor can i wait for you to get into bed with me so i can cuddle you the way i've wanted to all day."

"point taken, baby, just let me…" your face screws up as you reach around to unclasp your bra through your (matty's) t-shirt, before pulling it out from under the soft material and launching it towards the open suitcase in the corner of the room. relief palpable, you climb onto the bed and grin at an enamoured matty, now sitting against the plush headboard and swigging champagne. "freedom at last."

"you know, i'd gladly do that for you, sweetheart," matty smirks, tugging you onto his lap with one arm. "in the name of feminism, and all."

"as much as i commend your attempts to champion the gender, baby, i'll pass," you smile, enjoying the tiny moan that slips from your fiancé's lips as you weave your hands into his hair. "because i know if i let you do that, your hands are gonna end up on my tits, and then we'll never get anything done."

"oi, that's not true," matty frowns (cutely). "we'll get each other done. and i know you enjoy that. as do i, my god."

his lips attach themselves to your neck, making their way down; your insides begin to liquify, but you fight through the slight haze of pleasure and stand your ground. "yeah, i really do enjoy it. but, baby, there's other stuff i enjoy doing with you that i wanna do too, yeah? like… watching this film we agreed we were gonna put on tonight."

matty groans against your skin. "must we?"

"yes. you promised me, matty," you say, as firmly as you can with his lips still attached to your collarbone. "we watched the irishman yesterday because you wanted to, and you said we could do bones and all today. it's only fair."

"a romance film about cannibalism," matty mutters to nobody in particular. "it's foul, that concept."

"well, fair is foul and foul is fair."

"what?"

"macbeth. shakespeare. can't argue with him. anyway," you say, shuffling around so matty can lean back against your chest. "can i put the film on now?"

a deep sigh, one that seems to drag itself up from the depths of matty's soul. "depends."

"on?"

"it depends," matty begins dramatically. "on if you're going to spend the rest of the day thirsting over timothée chalamet or not."

"you know, i seem to like him a lot more in your head than i do in real life."

"really?"

"yeah."

matty hums, appeased. "sick. go on, then, stick it on."

you press a kiss to matty's temple and snake a hand across his torso to hold his own. matty brings it to his lips, and the contact seems to release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. "thank you, lover."

the beginning of the film passes without much incident; that is, until the first lightly gory scene. you wince a little at the sound of cracking bone, but you're nowhere near as bad as matty, who almost upends the bowl of sweets resting on his lap and vigorously shakes his head as if it'll erase the memory from his brain. 

once it passes, he reaches for the champagne on the bedside table and takes a long drink, before passing the bottle to you. "maybe you'd better hang onto that, darling."

"alright, baby."

despite both of your respective silences,  and although you can't see matty's face, you can picture the disgust colouring his features from the way his head tilts against you as the film progresses. he doesn't speak until the film's main villain is introduced, reaching back for the champagne with a "creepy fucker, that one"; this sentiment is built upon at the shot of a james joyce book in said fucker's residence. "oh, christ, he really is suspicious."

despite your own discomfort towards the happenings on-screen, you grin at matty's assessment. "i mean, yeah, baby. but i think the lurking and creeping kinda gave that away already."

"well, obviously. but that book's an extra layer of him being an absolute wrong'un."

you giggle, wrapping your other arm around matty and resting your head on his shoulder. with a happy little huff of air through his nose, matty turns slightly to kiss your cheek; the two of you stay like that, cosied up in a tableau of casual domestic intimacy. it's sweet, for a while, and comfortable - matty even rips the piss out of you at a particular scene involving timothée chalamet and a cornfield, touting it as "your dream movie death, babe". 

(he's lowkey not wrong.)

the sweet moment breaks somewhat, though, as the film progresses and matty gets increasingly more grossed out. with every drop of blood spilled, every jumpscare, every mere mention of the "eating" driving the plot, the muscles in his limbs loosen and contract back into tension, soundtracked by a chorus of gasps, gulps, groans of disgust, and the odd "oh for fuck's sake" when things get really horrid. in spite of your own discomfort at some of the gore, you can't resist fucking with your fiancé a little bit; amidst a silently fraught moment for maren, the protagonist, you lean right next to an unsuspecting matty's ear and crunch a handful of m&m's in your mouth. he practically hits the ceiling in fright, and pinches your thigh with a "not fucking funny". but he doesn't let go of you at all, however grumpy you make him, holding you like a lifeline throughout. in fact, by the time the credits start rolling, matty's fully squished his face into your ribs to get away from the gore on screen, thumbs rubbing your thighs so quickly to try and calm his noticeably thumping heart that you fear he might accidentally set your skin ablaze. 

despite his terror, though, you have to hold back a laugh. "matty, sweetheart," you say, trying with all your might to keep your voice steady. "were you scared of that movie?"

"no, just unnerved by it," comes the clearly- untrue reply, muffled by your cotton-mix-clad chest. "like, they were just constantly eating raw? really? mingin'."

you can't hold back a derisive cackle now, though. "you're freaked out at people eating raw meat? you fucking hypocrite!"

"i wasn't eating people, was i?" matty protests.

"i don't know, i think you ate with it at finsbury."

matty scoffs, but you feel him smile against you. "you're a right weirdo, sometimes, you know that?"

"and you're a scaredy-cat, you know that? honestly. can't even handle a bit of cannibalism in a movie. pussy."

your fiancé pulls back from your chest to look at you, and you regret your words immediately as soon as you see the shit-eating grin on his face. "well, you are what you eat."

an immediate facepalm. "i can't stand you."

"that ring on your left hand suggests otherwise, darling," matty kisses said ring, then presses little pecks up your finger to the tip. "and look at that - you can be romantic and kiss fingers without wanting to munch on them. this film is nonsensical. i mean, i get it's some metaphorical thing about loving people for who they truly are, but jesus, the cannibalism isn't half disgusting."

"hmmm, i don't know," you muse, twirling matty's curls around your fingers. "i think there's something romantic about it. the ending with maren and lee, at least."

matty peels your fingers out of his hair and moves to face you, his beautiful face contorted into the most bewildered expression you think you've ever seen. "are you on something right now?"

"i'm serious! it's romantic, if ill-advised. and messy."

"sweetheart," matty shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "politely - what the fuck are you on about?"

you smile. "well, it's all about desire, and lust, yeah?"

"yeah, i get that, but…"

"so, it's just needing somebody so much that you, well, you consume them in their entirety. and also, like," you continue, pushing your slipping glasses back up your nose. "there's an element of closeness to it, too. how much more intimate can you get than having your lover being broken down in your digestive system, literally fuelling you the way their love does so emotionally? oh, and devotion! giving yourself up to your lover like that to sustain them? you're together forever. yeah, it's disgusting, but you can't deny there's a romance to it, matty, you really can't."

he looks like he wants to, though. "but it's so violent."

you roll your eyes. "says the man who wrote a song about the idea of cracking his girlfriend's skull open, just so he could know exactly what she was thinking. and i thought that was sweet, and romantic."

matty opens his mouth as if to disagree, then closes it and shrugs. "actually, you've got a point, darling," he smiles almost shyly, tracing patterns in the bare skin of your shin. "i wrote that about you, you know."

"you did? aww, baby," you coo, pulling your fiancé's face towards you so you can kiss all over it. "i had no idea!"

"oh, come on, babe, who the fuck else would it have been about?" matty scoffs. "used to daydream about being so intimate with you like this, just hearing you think out loud, as unedited as you'll ever get."

you smirk. "bet you didn't think the thoughts would be about the inherent romance of cannibalism, huh?"

matty laughs, leaning in to kiss you slowly, deeply, passionately. "no, but it doesn't matter. i love you regardless."

"i love you too. and i promise i won't try to eat you, baby."

"nor will i take a heavy object to your skull, sweetheart. however," matty smirks, shuffling down the bed to rest his head in the gap between your legs. "i would quite like to eat you in a slightly different sense, if you'll allow."

"oh, go on then."

[echantedtoon]

Mermaid Headcannons

Just a few headcannons on mermaid culture for Ocean Deep for anyone curious.

*If a mermaid/merman wishes to court another then they usually do things to show their worth. Example being bringing back big game like a seal or shark to prove they can provide food or gifts of polished shells or jewelry to show off wealth. Sometimes they'll even spare with a love interests' family member to show off strength.

* The type of courting habits depends on the type of mer or water creature they are. For example:

Seal mers, or selkies as they're called, will offer their potential partner an opportunity to touch their seal skin while in human form as a sign of trust and interest.

Shark mers will often show off scars and bring back large prey to present to a potential mate to show how fiercely they can protect.

Crustacean mers will offer dances being crab/lobster/etc mers.

Sea dragons might offer a piece of their treasure hoard or recite poetry or knowledge.

However the most common signs of courting is offering valuable resources/objects. But again it varies from water creature to mer.

*Mers don't really have a concept of monogamy or polygamy. Some just prefer one life partner while others sometimes have multiple partners. It's not uncommon for them to have more than one partner. To them it's really just normal.

*It's more common for the women to take the last name of the males but again this isn't always the case.

*Pods are usually categorized by two: Family Pods and Neutral Pods.

FAMILY PODS: Usually the most common and very big varying on the mers. These are usually made up of just family members. Usually a pair of parents and their partners, and their children. Sometimes a family pod will be very big with grandparents, along with uncles and aunts and the main partners' siblings but it's less common.

-There is always one leader in every family pod, usually it's the father of the children. They are in charge of leading the pod and have the final say on things.

-The children are referred to as guppies or pups.

-Ever heard of sharks having a nursery for their pups? Well mers have a nursery for their children too. It's usually hidden and guarded to avoid predators or hostile mers.

-Usually a mer doesn't leave on their own until they're anywhere about sixteen to twenty years old.

NEUTRAL PODS: These are just pods made up of three or more random mers. Sometimes it's a trio or more of romantic partners but most commonly it's just a group of random mers. Neutral Pods can be made up of family members but more often than not it's just random mers who decided they liked each other enough to hunt together, partners without children, or they're made up of mers who just decided to hunt together as they live in the same area.

*If you encounter a neutral pod made up of romantic partners it'll be very easy to tell who's the leader of said partners. The leader will be decorated in the most jewelry. Usually this jewelry is made of home made seashells and stolen trinkets. However if they're in contact with a lot of valuables like gold, jewels, etc then they will have most of it decorating their body however they will also adore their partners in said jewelry as a form of wealthy status and it's sort of like their version of a wedding ring.

*The main leader of said partners is usually the one that gives out the jewelry or gifts amongst his or her partners.

*a neutral pod isn't considered a family pod unless made up of family members or if a neutral pod of partners has children.

*Mers of highly territorial. Not that an area can't be shared by multiple mers but usually a lone mer or pod has a specific amount of territory they own over.

*Because of their highly territorial nature, male mers will often be covered in scars from fights over territory, fights over a mate, or fights over treasure. LOTS of times fights between them often result in scars, severe injuries, and even death.

*Physical grooming like combing each other's hair, helping to remove loose scales, or just physical touch in general is seen as an intimate act on the same level of a romantic kiss on the cheek so usually it's only reserved for romantic partners or family members.

*Mermaids mate for life like swans do. Unless the other partners/partner dies then they won't really take on another partner.

*THIS is why humans must be very careful when interacting with mermaids/men of any kind. If you do encounter one the following rules Must be kept in mind.

If you encounter one of these fantastic creatures be sure to mention a present partner casually. Even if you do not have a significant other, the mere mentions of a partner will detour most interest from yourself.

2. Keep your interactions platonic. You must never insinuate romantic interest to one. Even the slightest hint of possible interest will make them pursue.

3. Avoid talking about romance or future goals outside of mentioning your partner. Never mention children to them.

4. Keep your distance. Allowing touch is a huge sign of trust and interest of physical contact. Keep as physical far away as possible if you can and do not allow contact to be initiated.

5. Absolutely above all else NEVER accept gifts. Gifts are usually only given out as a proposal of interest. If accepted then consider yourself doomed because any outside romantic interest will result in retaliation and usually does not end well.

Mers who're able to keep a human partner are usually seen in higher regard as not everyone can keep one. This is why steps must be taken to ensure the human doesn't end up in hot water.

[tamlinweek]

To all the participants of Tamlin Week:

First of all, HI!! WE LOVE YOU!!! yall are so creative and dedicated, we are so proud of this corner of our fandom! As event mods, we feel like one of the most important things we can do during a fandom event is be supportive. Me (Reyna) and Lady Midnight will be doing what we can, by reblogging every post onto our personal blogs and added comments/kudos to all the fics.

Unfortunately, we cannot pause real life, not even during Tamlin Week. Both of us have had to work quite a bit this week. I especially have had NO TIME since I've been at sea most of the week, and am starting a long, strenuous field day tomorrow (I set my alarm for 4:30 AM tomorrow with hatred in my heart). This means that Lady Midnight has been handling every single submission to make sure it is reblogged to the Tamlin Week blog in a timely manner, with tags. Therefore, she also hasn't had much time to focus on actually enjoying the submissions.

All this to say, we appreciate you so much, even if that appreciation isn't being shown right now! We want to make sure we have time to really sit down and enjoy those fics and leave thoughtful comments, because you deserve them! We want time to really appreciate the beautiful art, moodboards, and poetry that you have spent the time making. That means that it'll probably take several weeks for us to go through every submission.

We have 2 requests at this point. One, please be patient with us, and know that your work brings us so much joy, and we will be able to share that with you soon. And two, please help us pick up the slack by supporting your fellow creators. Even a simple reblog with a heart emoji in the tags can mean everything to a creator, especially since we're all making content for an unpopular character. Leave replies, comments, send messages, write funny tags, etc, to make up for us mods not being able to right now.

You are all amazing, and let Tamlin Week continue!

[glowinggator]

Ok so, imma start off simple, may i req a Rocky Rickaby x calm, collected, polite yet lowkey mysterious reader? It can be gender neutral pls. You can do this req later. Love your work and i hope your eating and doing well! 💖

Thank you so much for the request!! Bit shorter than I would have liked, but I hope it's alright!! <3

This is a textbook case of opposites attract. 

Rocky’s been around a lot of fake-polite people -- Southern Hospitality only goes so far, nevermind Midwest Niceties. He’s been on the receiving end of far too many sneers from the so-called “polite” upper-class businessmen. 

But you? Your politeness isn’t skin-deep.

You actually listen when he talks, are always courteous, and god isn't that just the most wonderful change? Needless to say, he attaches himself to you like glue. A bit of kindness goes a long way with Rocky. I won't say it's love at first sight… but it's pretty damn close. 

The two of you are quite a sight. It’s not uncommon to see him practically vibrating where he stands while you sit calmly. He'll prance around you in circles, waxing poetic as he sways to and fro while you gaze up at him. 

He is endlessly, and I mean endlessly, fascinated by you. Your past, and the way it guides your actions in the present , is shrouded in heavy mystery. And while he would love to know you on a deeper level… he won't pry. Lord knows he has enough secrets… it wouldn't be right to pry into your past without divulging his own. But sometimes when the music is loud and the conversation takes some of the weight off of him, he'll simply gaze at you. His pupils dilate as he recesses into his own thoughts, thinking about all of the possibilities that surround you. Maybe he's had a bit too much coffee today. 

He's actually rather hesitant to confess to you, despite the prose that he spills for you on the daily. You're, well, you. And he's just Rocky. He's not blind to the signs of infatuation and adoration -- he recognizes it very, very well in others. And if you had eyes on anyone else, he'd pick up on it in an instant. But he doesn't recognize it so much when it's directed at him. It'll either take quite the break of character from you to lay it on a bit thicker for him, or for one of you to have some near-death experience for him to confess. 

But when he does? Oh boy, if you thought you were attached at the hip before… 

He was always rather open with his affections -- the behavior doesn't change as much as the intensity does. His poetry gets a bit more syrupy, a bit more fanciful. And if you'll have him, he loves to touch -- to hold -- to be held. 

The only time you can get him to sit quiet and still  is when he gets to lay his head in your lap. The rest of the Lackadaisy crew would think he was dead, had it not been for his happy little tail flicks. 

You're a staple in many of his soliloquies -- it's only fair, with how often you occupy his thoughts. You'd think with the mystery that surrounds you that you'd be compared to a shadow, or a locked box, but he finds that comparison far too cliche and reductive. Nay, he sees you as the endless oceans -- deep and calm like the Pacific, yet as warm as the Atlantic. Naught to be truly known, yet beautiful all the same. 

All in all, you're his rock. The calm in his storm. The two of you couldn't be more different if you tried, but damn if you don't work well together. 

[ye-local-simp]

I wanted to know if it'll be possible for me to request head canons of Vil, Took and Malleus with a reader that has chronic sinusitis? It basically means their head and face hurts pretty frequently, and doing anything physical (pe, going up the stairs, stuff like that) leaves their head throbbing for a little bit. I hope this isn't too much to ask, and I hope you have a good day!

[With a reader who has chronic sinusitis]

[VIL,ROOK,MALLEUS]

Vil:

-He won't ever relate but he does pity you.

-He will still make you work hard to achieve things though.

-But he definitely takes it easier with you.

-For example, if you two go jogging and you are not able to keep up, he will go slower for you.

-Makes sure he has painkillers,another nasal spray that he hasn't used and tissues on him, in case you come empty handed.

-Will rub your head if it starts to throb or suggest a warm bath at Pomefiore.

Rook:

- Makes up all poetry on how bad he feels for you and how much he wants to help.

-If you find your head throbbing during a physical activity, he would carry you and make you sit down to rest a bit.

-You don't even need to let him know, he somehow knows when your head throbs.

-It is a bit creepy since he knew about it before you two met and knows exactly, EXACTLY what you use to relieve the pain.

-But that's better since he can provide for you when you don't have it on you.

Malleus:

-His first question is, "Do all humans feel this?"

-No doubt that he feels bad for you.

-As a fae, he can't imagine the feeling but he can tell it's a bad feeling.

-He allows you to latch onto him if you are having difficulty walking etc and would even carry you if it is that bad.

-Definitely keeps a handkerchief for you.

-Massages your head when you tell him that your head hurts.

[orions-tears]

Yours Truly - Ominis Gaunt [Final Part Ver. A]

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x fem!Reader

Themes: Fluff, 18+ Smut

A/N PLEASE READ!: So I know a lot of you love the fluff in this fic and I had a craving so smut it was but I'm completely happy to make a fluff only version if you all want it. It'll be a bit different, obvi, but just let me know :)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and the Fluff version of this are linked :)

"I think it's cute!"

Ominis leans back in his chair. He put the letter in his pocket and sighs. "I don't know anyone who likes poetry."

You shrug and cross your legs, smiling at him. He often puts on a face when he's thinking and Merlin it's cute. You like to watch him when he's like this and wonder what's going through his head. 

"Who do you think it is?" he asks, turning to you.

"What?"

"The person sending the letters? Who do you think it is?"

"Oh I don't know," you reply, forcing back a smile. "Could it be Imelda?"

He snorts and laughs, shaking his head. "Imelda could only hope to speak so nicely to someone."

You laugh and nudge him. "Don't be mean." You're silent for a moment, thinking of another person. "Must be Sebastian. He does keep trying to get you to tell him what's in it. Besides, it landing in his food? A lie, must be."

He straightens and looks at you, smile dropping from his face. "You don't really think..."

You tilt your head, looking at him. "What's wrong with that idea?"

You shake your head. Why are you putting ideas in his head? Imagine if he actually likes Sebastian and you ruin your chance. He stands, grabbing his wand. 

"I have to go."

You watch him leave and sigh. Sebastian's going to give you an earful for this one.

***

"Are you in love with me?" Ominis practically yells. He'd found Sebastian sitting in the library. Everyone turned to look, a few laughing and whispering to themselves.

Sebastian looks up, bursting out in laughter. "What?"

Ominis holds up all of the letters he's received and tosses them onto the table Sebastian's sitting at. "Are you the one that made these?"

Sebastian looks at the letters and back to Ominis. "You're joking, right? Why would I write you love notes?"

Ominis folds his arms. "I'm serious, Sebastian. Is it you?"

Sebastian grabs the papers, standing and putting them back in Ominis' hands. "No, Ominis. Unfortunately for you, I'm not in love with you."

Ominis frowns, taking the letters and putting them into his pockets. "Not unfortunate. This isn't funny. I want to know who it is."

Suddenly, an owl flies overhead, dropping an envelope onto Sebastian's head. He winces, yelling at the bird and picks the envelope up from where it had fallen on the floor. He holds it out to Ominis, scoffing.

"Another one for you. Not sure I would have an owl drop it on my head if it were mine in the first place."

Ominis sighs and opens it.

My one and only Ominis,

I've heard rumor that you long to know of my identity.

I hope one day for this to come to pass but for now I must keep

myself a secret. For you to discover me without my knowledge that 

you feel the same would be my ruin. I hope you enjoyed the poem.

I long to experience such an endless love with you but I fear you

may never requite my love. Just know how I care for you. How

your very being infects my mind. I think of you, day and night,

and wonder if you think of me. I long to hold your hand. To feel

your warmth near me. To feel a gentle kiss. I do my best to push

away my thoughts of what you must taste like but they plague me

even now.

I feel the need to apologise, but I find it important to

relinquish these thoughts from my mind. I close my eyes and

I wonder how I would feel when you touch me. Would you be

gentle? I imagine how you would feel inside of me as I touch myself,

picturing you with me. I think of how it would feel for you to

fill me completely and if my moans and my breathless

whispers would lead you over the edge. As I write this now,

the thought of this pushes me closer. I want you, Ominis.

I want to know what you feel like, what you sound like.

I want you to want me like this.

I think I ought to send this now before I get cold feet.

Eternally yours,

Anonymous

Ominis swallows hard, gripping the pages. He feels his face burning. His eyes are wide and he hears Sebastian laughing.

"Please, that must be the spicy one."

Ominis shifts, feeling the bulge in his trousers and turns away from his friend. "Why do you say that?"

Sebastian shrugs. "Just based on your face. You look embarrassed."

Ominis shakes his head, quickly leaving the library and running to the nearest restroom, hiding in a stall. He leans against the wall, folding the letter into his pocket and unbuttoning his trousers, running his hand over his growing length and groaning. He hadn't checked to know if he was alone but he didn't care. He released his cock from the restrictive fabric and sucked in a breath as he began pumping himself, sloppily. He leaned against the stall wall and tilted his head back, shutting his eyes. He tried to clear his mind, to get it over with, but for some reason he could only picture you. He leaned forward, his free hand bracing himself on the opposite wall and imagined you, your mouth around his length, the feeling of your tongue. He imagined the noise you would make as you gagged around him, the way the tears would run down your cheeks, how obedient you would be as you swallowed his come. The thought sends him over the edge as he groaned, slowing his movements. 

Fuck...he though to himself. He really hoped you were the author of the letters. If not...he's in big trouble.

***

"Have you gotten another one?"

He spins around as he hears you skip up. He'd been avoiding you the whole day, hoping not to face you and hesitates, nodding. "How'd you know?"

You shrugs and smile. "I was just curious. I'm invested, you know."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "This one was...umm...different, to say the least."

You step closer and he steps away, flushing red. You laugh and put your hands on your hips. "That bad? I don't even get to hear it?"

He nods and turns away. He can't stop thinking about earlier. He covers his mouth and shuts his eyes. Not in front of you...not now... You lean around and look at him, concerned.

"Ominis, are you alright? Are you going to be sick?" you ask, genuinely worried.

He shakes his head and wraps his robes around himself. "I'm sorry, now isn't a good time..."

You nod as he apologises again and quickly leaves. You watch him leave and grin. He's getting off on the letter, isn't he? You walk back to your dorm room and sit down. One more letter. One more and you'll be satisfied.

***

He'd just finished pleasuring himself again to the thought of you when Sebastian walked into the dorm room. He scrambled to hide behind the curtains, face burning, and pulled his trousers up, buttoning them in haste.

"Shameless..." Sebastian drawled, walking to his own bed.

"W-What?" Ominis stuttered out, still hiding himself.

Sebastian laughed and flopped down on his bed. "As if I don't know why you reacted like that. Must have been one filthy letter, I'd say."

Ominis groans and sits on his bed. "I don't exactly need you in my business, forget it."

"I'd love to forget it," Sebastian retorts, sitting up quickly, "but look at what I found!"

He gets up and tosses an envelope onto Ominis' bed. Ominis picks it up and turns his head up to him. "In your food again?"

Sebastian shakes his head. "Technically it wasn't in anything of mine. I couldn't find my potions textbook anywhere so I took yours. It was in there."

Ominis sighs and shakes his head, opening the envelope. "I really wish you'd ask before taking my things."

Sebastian laughs. "What kind of friend would I be then?"

Ominis, my forever love,

I hope my previous letter did not scare you away. I feel,

simply, that you should hear how I truly feel about you. 

I feel, now, that you may know something about me. I love

music. My father would bring me to the shops in London to

listen to phonographs. How I adored our time together. I

feel that my most favourite song must be Camille Saint-Saens

Symphony No 2 in A Minor. I wonder if you have heard it before.

It brings me such joy and makes me feel free.

I adore the colour yellow. It reminds me of the sun. It

reminds me of whins. My house used to be surrounded by

bushes of whins. Butterflies and bees would swarm and I

loved them greatly. I never much cared for the color blue

but when I look in your eyes I feel a great fondness for it.

My favourite flowers are Bluebells. Ironic, I know, but

I find them to be quite adorable. I love their shape,

how their petals flare, how they hang from the stem.

You don't see them much near Hogwarts, and I miss them

dearly, but I hope to see many more throughout the valley.

I wonder if you care to know these things and if you've

even read this letter. I guess I just want you to feel

closer to me, to enjoy who I am. I do love you so.

One day I hope to hear you say the same to me.

I will write to you no more, to quell my need for you.

I pray you will find me and hold me in your arms.

Eternally yours,

Anonymous.

Ominis sat in silence, fingers holding over the closing of the letter. This is the first time they she had mentioned anything about herself. He stands, quickly folding the letter into his pocket and leaves the room to find you.

When he does he runs up, grabbing your sleeve. You had been potting some dittany in the greenhouse and almost drop your pot when he latches on.

"Ominis!" you shout, catching the pot and setting it down. You laugh and turn to him. "You can't run up on me like that, I almost lost my plant."

He swallows and straightens, letting go. "If I read this," he says, pulling the papers from his pockets, "can you tell me if you know anyone that it could be?"

You nod and lean against the table. "Go ahead."

He read the full letter to you and sets it on the table, waiting for a response. You're silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Ominis, I truly can't think of anyone."

He sighs and kicks the ground. "No one?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm sorry."

You hate lying to him, especially since you're really just pushing yourself away, but you don't have to confidence to admit it to his face. He slowly picks up the letter and frowns. He thanks you and turns, leaving the greenhouse, downhearted.

***

A few days later, you walk into the library and hear music. Not usual, especially if Madam Scribner is about. You walk towards the sound and finally recognise it. Camille Saint-Saens Symphony No 2 in A Minor!

"I love this song!" you sing, walking over.

You see Ominis sitting next to a phonograph in the corner. He perks up and turns to you.

"You...you do...?" He turns back to the phonograph. "This usually sits in here, untouched, but I convinced Madam Scribner to let me play one piece."

You sigh happily and sit down next to him. "My father used to take me to London to hear this played in shops. He always requested it."

He's silent and stares in your direction. "Your father..."

You nod, smiling. "I miss him dearly."

"You wrote the letters."

The smile drops from your face and you look at him. "What?"

He stands and pulls the letters from his pocket. "You wrote these. It's you. You've been saying you don't know but you've been hiding the fact that it's been you the whole time."

You stare at him, mind blank for moment and take a breath, looking down at your hands. "Yes..." you whisper.

He reaches out for you and you lift your hand to his. He takes it and moves in front of you, kneeling down. "Why would you lie?"

You feel a lump form in your throat and look away, face red. "I was afraid..."

He chuckles and lays his head on your knee. "This whole time...I've hoped it was you."

You gasp and look at him. He lifts his head back up to face you and smirks. "You've touched yourself to the thought of me," he whispers.

You feel your face burn and swallow hard. 

"I've done the same with you," he says, softer than before.

Your eyes widen and you smile. "You have?"

He nods and stands. "Would you like to answer the questions from the letter?"

You giggle lightly and nod. "Yes."

He takes your hand and pulls you up, taking his wand in his free hand, and guiding you to an empty classroom in the Dark Arts Tower. You feel your face burn and look at him.

"H-Here?"

He smirks and leans against a desk, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you between his legs. "Anywhere else would be too safe." He pulls you closer, pressing his lips to yours as you run your hands up into his hair. You whimper as he bites down on your bottom lip and you can feel a bulge growing in his trousers. He stands, pulling you into the spot where he sat and rests his hands on your thighs. You shrug your robe off and he runs his hands up your torso, quickly unbuttoning your shirt and throwing it to the side. You tugged at the waistband of his trousers but he shakes his head.

"Not yet, my love..."

He kneels down, running his hands over your thighs and pushing up your skirt. His hands quickly find your heat as he presses his fingers against your clit, eliciting a moan out of you as you grip the edge of the table. He smirks and moves your underwear aside, finding your wet entrance and pushing a digit inside as you gasp. He adds another finger, quickly pumping into you as you clamp your hand over your mouth, muffling your loud moans. He pulls his fingers out, just for a second, to remove your underwear, and gently lifts your legs onto his shoulders. He brings his fingers back into you, leaning in and pressing his mouth against you, running his tongue over your swollen nub. You gasp loudly and grab his hair, holding tightly, the other hand supporting yourself on the table. The suction on your clit and his fingers curling into just the right spot are pushing your closer to the edge. You shut your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the moans escape. You can feel the arousal running down your legs and open your eyes for just a moment, looking down at him. Seeing him, eyes closed, tongue working you over, makes you tense as you pull his hair, orgasm taking over your body. You whimper and curl in on him. 

He pulls away and grins, licking his fingers clean. You feel your face burning and look away, smiling. He stands and you can see the bulge in his trousers.

"Turn around," he demands.

You nod and stand, turning around and leaning over the desk. You hear him unbutton his trousers and pull them down. He pushes your skirt up and grabs your hips, running his length over your dripping entrance and pushing inside you with a groan. You gasp and grab onto the end of the table as he thrusts into you, his grip on your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He leans over you as he hits you hard and deep, thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his climax. You feel a pressure building up in your stomach as you reach your own and close your eyes, reaching back to grab his arm. He takes your hand, resting his other one on your back. You whine as he thrusts into you, feeling yourself fall over the edge, contracting around his length. He gasps at the pressure and leans into you, groaning and pushing deep into you as he finishes. You gasp at the sensation and he pulls out as you lower yourself to the ground, breathing heavily. He pulls his trousers back up and kneels down next to you.

"Are you alright?" he says, worried.

You nod and smile. "Yes..."

He smiles and touches your face, leaning in and kissing you gently. "Is it what you hoped for in the letters?" he laughs.

You nod, giggling. "Yes..."

He helps you to your feet, retrieving your clothes and helping you dress before anyone sees what happened.

"You know, Bluebells are my favourite as well," he hums.

Tag list!

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[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

which solo songs by the beatles would you say are their "best"? as in, great production, great structure, it shows off their strengths as musicians, etc... although i get it's totally subjective, which ones would *you* pick?

this is SUCH an interesting question, thank you so much!!!!

My Sweet Lord is genuinely like my favourite George song, but given its semi-plagiarizing and how simple it is, I think I can't call it his best outright, although it's his most iconic slide guitaring for a reason. A very strong contender would be Isn't It A Pity, which I think is absolutely gorgeous lyrically and incredibly effective musically. I've also always loved When We Was Fab as a Beatles pastiche and think it's amazing melodically and production-wise. I'd also say Run Of The Mill, which is emotionally and lyrically incredible and rhythmically very interesting. It keeps switching time signatures!!! I also kind of wanna say Someplace Else but I can't fully defend it, though. I'm also super partial to Who Can See It though I don't find that a typical George song at all, so I'm not sure it fits your criteria. (also bear in mind I haven't reached Brainwashed yet!!)

For Ringo, tbh I am going to say Vertical Man. this is a GREAT song that I feel really captures his character so well, the light whimsy and the dark undercurrent. It also really works for his voice and the drumming rocks. It's still not on my Spotify!!!!! KMS!!!!!

For John, I think the three songs I'd say my three favourite songs are (in no particular order) #9 Dream, Nobody Loves You (When You're Down And Out), and I'm Losing You (okay and also (Just Like) Starting Over) and I think those all demonstrate John's different lyrical strengths – the dreamy imagery, the sad resignedness, the bitterness – incredibly well, while all having quite excellent production. I think John is kind of underrated as a producer and a lot of the stuff he's credited on (and Spector is not credited on lol) has a great vibe and shows a lot of vision. I also might throw in Scared which I think is super overlooked and to also add a more stripped back song, I'd go with Isolation, which to me is kind of the core of Plastic Ono Band.

Paul has my definite favourite solo career, so it's hard to narrow it down fully. Band On The Run is probably my most basic answer but I do think it's just that good and definitely one of his most effective suites. I would also say Junk, which I think is pure poetry and musically perfect. Tug of War is probably my (co-)favourite Paul solo song but I've seen a lot of people call it too melodramatic. I sort of see what they mean, but I love the central image so much, how complicated it is. I also think Here Today is one of his strongest songs lyrically, actually. Okay, let's throw out a few more: My Brave Face is like peeeeeaaaak upbeat but sad breakup song and I love it to bits. It'll definitely end up on my spotify wrapped. I also think Distractions is one of Paul's most gorgeous melodies and the production is so cool to me. It also feels so sincere and romantic idk. ALSO, circling back to Tug of War the album, I wanna say: I think The Pound Is Sinking would 1000000000000% be a universally recognized masterpiece had it been on a Beatles album. It is the absolute sweet spot of Paul's abstract yet impactful lyricism. I also kind of wanna say Heaven On A Sunday though I find that, like Who Can See It, not that typically Paul per se. It and Warm and Beautiful are perhaps my favourite songs about Linda he wrote.

I'm interested in your thoughts, anon!! and what do others think?? does anyone agree or strongly disagree with any of my takes?