#and when i notice a gem like this i cannot keep it to myself

[lovelywritinglady]

Rarities

Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!Albino!reader

Douma has been keeping you away from Muzan. He soon finds out and requests an both of you into the mansion. Because what demon wouldn’t be intrigued by a human that is sensitive to the sun. Angst, fluff. Reader is albino and therefore has the characteristics of albanism. Muzan is most likely out of character. This was a requested fic, however the original post kept deleting itself so I needed to scrap it and make a new one. Thanks to @cursetopia for requesting this it was interesting to write.

Your Pov

The room as cold and darkly lit as the only light was from a single candle on the far side of the room. Not that I minded absence of light as the sun was nearly umberable. I sat on my bed that master Douma provided me after "good behavior" or whatever that means. I can't leave or he'll kill me and my family and I can't risk that. How I long to see them, despite my apprearence they never hated me like the other villagers did. All they ever did was show me love. I curse the day that I was born. I stuck out everywhere, so its really no surprise that I was captured. In truth I hated myself and I despiretly wished I was normal because at least I'd have the chance at a regular life instead of being held captive by a demon.

The candle suddenly went out as I felt the room get even colder than before and I knew that he was here. His breath tickled the back of my skin and despite him randomly coming into my room, I forgot how to breathe.

"Ah you still get nervous when I see you, such a cute pet." He cooed that caused me to shudder internally. "You get to out today. My master wants to meet you." Douma spoke with annoyance

"Why?" I asked quietly

"You should know this by now, we demons are quite fond of humans that cannot be in the sun. Its almost like you're a demon yourself. Plus, your complextion is quite rare indeed. You're like a precious artifact." He cooed picking me up bridal style. I then suddenly found myself in a very large well lit room that seemed to go every which way. I was in awe as master Douma had never taken me to this place before.

"So this is the rare human that you have been keeping from me Douma?" A voice boomed overhead. I quickly shot my head up to see who this voice belonged to only to be met with gleaming pink-red eyes, that were somewhat similar to mine.

"Yes, my Lord Muzan this is her. Isn't she just ravishing, such a rare gem ought to be owned only by demons, don't you think?" My master cooed taking a strand of my snowy hair between his fingers. "She is my favorite pet." My master boasted.

"Tell me girl, how does the sun feel to you?" He questioned

"My Lord, the sun has always hurt my skin and I find it harder to see during the day." I spoke honestly and as respectfully as I could in a situation as nerve racking as this one. He nodded quietly and looked as though he was pondering something.

"She will come with me." Lord Muzan ordered suddenly.

"My Lord I have been taking care of this human for many years now, so she belongs to me." Master Douma spat. Muzan, without warning, then sent my masters head flying and I gasped at his speed and strength.

"Consider this payment for being an utter failure to me. I should kill you, but one of the upper moons was just killed recently, so I will be sparing you just this once." Lord Muzan demanded. Just as quick as it was gone, master Douma's head was now replace with a new one.

"Yes, My Lord." Douma bowed in defeat. He looked in my eyes and for the first time I noticed utter fear and hatred laced in them. I that look was not for me, but for the man that he called 'Lord.'

"Come girl." He ordered tunring from me and walking who-knows-where. I said nothing and followed knowing full well that if I did not, I might end up like master Douma, only I could not grow another head.

The sound of strumming vibrated the room and I felt the ground beneath me shift from up under my feet. As quick as a breath, I found myself standing in a semi well lit room that smelled like lavender and cherry blossoms. It was a rather large room with four doors, a large bed, bookcases filled with books, and decorated in many different fresh flowers. The room master Douma provided me was small and cold and most nights I had to bundle myself up just to feel an ounce of warmth. However, this room was engulfed with warmth, but not too much that the heat was overpowering. I looked upon the room freely until once more Lord Muzan was right in front of me and I found myself looking into similar colored eyes once more.

"This is where you will be staying from now on. If you should need anything on of the maids will see to it. If they can't, then your needs will be met by me. The room is connected to a house that you are free to wonder in. However, if you wish to go outside you must tell one of the maid that you are doing so. I will allow you to also see your family three times a year to keep you happy. They will also be kept safe as well." Lord Muzan spoke calmly

"Thank you, My Lord!" I nearly exclaimed at the thought of seeing my family again. "Forgive the question, but why have you gone to so much trouble?" I asked cringing at the fact that I even asked him this.

"I am not overly fond of anyone questioning me, but considering your situation I will allow it just once. Do you understand?" He quickly spat and I nodded my head showing my understanding as my words failed me. "You are here because you are a human worthy of life. Your unnatural hair is similar to that of a demons. As is your skin that is pale and lifeless yet beautiful. And your eyes that share a similar shade to mine, make you worthy of life and my protection. You, girl, are the very definition of a rarity and something that must be protected from humans and demons alike." Lord Muzan procalaimed stepping closer to me with a look in his eyes that I couldn't understand. I could feel his breath hit my face and I felt small as he towered over me. I was shocked to say the least as no one has ever truly told me I was worthy of life, not even master Douma. I slightly winced at the realization that other humans were trash to him, but I can't argue with him or else I would most likely suffer. "I must go now, there are things that I must attend to." Muzan spoke and just as quick as I met him, he was gone.

I let go a shaky breath that I was holding and walked over to the bed. Throwing myself on it I sighed in contentment to how soft it was. The room was comfortable to say the least, but now my situation was worse than before. I was being held hostage by Lord Muzan himself, but my tiredness washed away the feeling of panic. As did my relization that I would indeed be taken care of, but for how long. My eyes grew heavy and soon enough I closed my eyes and drifted off into the best sleep that I had gotten in years with thoughts of the man with similar eyes to mine.

Thanks for reading💜

Please feel free to comment, reblog, and request

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•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

#demon slayer muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji x you #muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan demon slayer #albino reader #requested fic. #demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer fics #demon slayer fanfic

[godesssiri]

Thrifting Philosophies 1

Getting the good stuff requires commitment, knowledge, and luck. There’s always going to be an element of luck in thrifting. What are the chances that the perfect item will be donated and put out on the shelves of the very thrift store that you are going to and that you will get your mitts on it before anyone else? There is real kismet in walking out of a thrift store with an item that you’ve dreamed of, I literally daydreamed about one of my best scores (a 2.5-foot-tall ceramic panther) for years before it actually happened – and discovering it actually went almost exactly like my daydream.* Don’t let the luck factor put you off because if you are committed and knowledgeable then luck will come to you more often.

You have to go often. You have to have a circuit and make it routine and scour every inch of the store. Like I said I daydreamed for years before I found my panther, you’re NOT going to just walk into a thrift store and find your dream thing first try, unless you are extraordinarily lucky. I’ve noticed a couple of the Youtubers I watch that have a very specific aesthetic, and know exactly what they want, often mention searching new listings online every single day, they have their list of search terms, and they just keep looking every day until they find exactly what they’re looking for. Thrifting dream items is a hunt, and you have to remember you are a persistence predator so be persistent.

Being knowledgeable about what you are looking for will also increase your luck. The more you learn about the thing you love the more search terms you learn it could be listed under. The more you train your eye the more likely you are to spot the gems. I recently scored a Lisa Larson figurine for $3; her stuff goes for hundreds, and I never thought I would be able to own something of hers. But because I was familiar with her design style when I saw this little dog (on the shelf where my favorite thrift store stashes stuff they think is crap and they just want to sell it cheap) I was able to identify it as something that looked like her other designs and scoop it up. The marking on the base was so faint it was barely readable, and I had to google her mark so I could compare side by side. I then googled ‘Lisa Larson dog’ and checked the image results and sure enough my little guy popped up. Google is your friend in these cases and whenever I’m in a thrift store and think I’ve found something good, but I don’t know enough to tell for sure I’ll put it in my basket and take a seat in one of the armchairs that are for sale, and I’ll google away. Researching on your phone while you’re in store is the best way to decide if the thing in your basket is a bargain or not, today I saw a malachite box in the cabinet at the thrift store but it was a bit pricey, $40, so I googled to see if it was worth that, boxes of a comparable size were popping up for $150-$200 so you bet I snapped it up for $40. If you’re interested in an item, then do your research so when you spot it you instantly know what you’re looking at. Looking at lots of examples of a thing online means that when you come across it in real life it will draw your eye so it’s more likely jump out at you when it otherwise might be lost in among all the other stuff on the shelves – I’ve trained myself to spot antique blue and white china from just seeing the rim of a plate in a stack of random plates. I absolutely cannot emphasize enough that you need to know that you’re looking at something special when you lay eyes on it, there is so much good quality stuff in thrift stores you just have to be able to recognize it when you see it. The more you research and dream about finding your goal items, the more likely you are to stand in a thrift store and squint at something and go: Is that? No couldn’t be. Maybe it is? Then pick it up and turn it over to discover that it’s exactly what you thought it was and you’ve got a treasure in your hands. People talk about manifesting the things you want, and I do believe that you can. But I believe it has less to do with putting mystical vibe out into the universe to bring you those things and more to do with training you brain to spot the opportunity to get those things.

*The panther story for anyone who’s interested. I’ve been drooling over these huge ceramic big cats on Pintrest for years and desperately wanted one, you can get tigers, cheetahs, leopards, panthers, and they’re usually sitting up and are about 2.5 feet tall. They were mid-century and original ones sell for $$$$, you can buy new reproductions from the original molds but even those are in the 1-2 thousand range so yeah, I was never gonna be able to buy one. I daydreamed that someday I would walk into my favorite thrift store and find one. I live in an area with a lot of retirees who had money around the time these were being made so my chances were decent. My favorite store has a fully glass frontage and they put the best stuff where you can see in the windows. I daydreamed that I would be walking up to the store and see it through the window before I’d even gotten through the door, that I would beeline for it and grab it growling “Mine!”, and march it up to the counter without even looking at the price, I dreamed that when I got to the counter I would check the price and it would be incredibly reasonable – like $200 (considering how much even reproductions sell for). The things that went differently from my daydream: It was just after a Covid lock-down and here in New Zealand we used to scan-in to public places using a QR code which registered us on a government app – if someone tested positive everyone who had been in a location they had been to at the same time as them could be warned through the app. I saw my panther through the window just like my daydream and was fumbling to scan in while making loud inarticulate noises that embarrassed my mother and brother who were with me. My brother carried him up to the counter for me because I was shaking with excitement. When I actually stopped to check his price, he was $75!!!!!!!!!!! My brother also found a David Bowie book that day that retails for hundreds and that he’d wanted but never thought he would be able to afford, it was also $75. My mother still talks about my squealing and just about running people over to get to Jayjay the Panther (my honorary nephew, Jayjay then 4-years-old, was the one that named him, and he wanted to name him Jayjay).

My previous thrift post

#thrifting #solarpunk #fuck capitalism #sustainability #eco home #reduce reuse recycle #thrift shopping

[monkeythefander]

A Witch and a Baby

Chapter 4: A Chaotic First Meeting

Summary: Logan and Roman are now good friends and things are going well in his life. But his life gets a bit more interesting one night, when a chaotic stranger suddenly enters his life.

Content Warnings: Breaking into someone’s home (it’s just Remus so nothing bad results from this), singing to calm a baby down (the merman’s singing is partly calming due to magic), Remus is shirtless just because, food mention (specifically cereal and baby formula), Remus briefly talks about wanting to take Logan’s eyes (he doesn’t though), let me know if I missed anything else.

Relationships: All platonic, but Remus thinks Roman and Logan are dating for a moment. They are not though.

Click below the cut to read the chapter.

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After meeting Roman properly for the first time, Logan’s nights became more enjoyable. Whenever Janus struggled to fall asleep, Logan would tap the gem on his bracelet and Roman would appear to help. The baby really seemed to enjoy the merman’s songs and Logan found the music soothing too, and would sometimes fall asleep from it.

When Logan didn’t fall asleep right away, Roman would keep him company and the two would discuss all kinds of things. Although they mostly spoke about Greek mythology, poetry, and books they’ve both read. These conversations eventually transferred into the day time as well. The two men would meet up at a cafe in the village to talk with each other, and would sometimes go to the library together. Janus would come with Logan most of the time, since the witch couldn’t always find a babysitter. But when Logan did leave Janus with a babysitter, it was typically Patton.

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One night, after putting Janus to bed Logan heard noise coming from another part of his cottage. Both on guard and curious, Logan quietly left his bedroom, shutting the door so he’d know to go protect Janus if he heard the door creak open.

Logan silently walks towards the noise, which appears to be coming from his small study. He stands on the side of the doorway and leans slightly to the side to peak in. He then watches as a figure looks through his bookshelf, throwing some books carelessly to the floor. Logan frowned at the sight of his books being handled so roughly. That’s no way to take care of a book.

Logan went to take a step forward, wanting to sneak up behind the intruder and confront them. But once he took the first step the floor made a creaking sound and the figure startled and turned around, making eye contact with Logan. The study’s lights were off and the moon wasn’t visible through the one window in the room, so the only part of the figure Logan could make out were their green eyes, which appeared to be glowing in the dark. Something about that shade of green seemed familiar. Where had he seen eyes like that before?

Suddenly, the figure started walking forward and Logan backed up as they left the darkness of the study and stood in the light of the hallway. Now that he could see the figure clearly, Logan could tell why the eyes seemed familiar. The intruder looked similar to Roman. He had green eyes, red hair, and was wearing pants that had a scaled pattern to them. But unlike Roman, this intruder had a mustache, a gray streak in his hair, green colored pants, and wasn’t wearing a shirt.

After examining the intruder’s appearance, Logan noticed he appeared to be observing Logan’s appearance as well.

“So…you’re the one my brother keeps running off to see so much.” The man then suddenly leans closer to Logan’s face, just staring at his eyes for a few awkward moments before exclaiming, “Your eyes are a very nice shade of gray! Can I have them?!”

“Um….no you cannot. I’d like to keep my eyes for myself.” Logan replies, very confused by this eccentric stranger. Once he got his bearings again, the witch then proceeded to ask the important questions. “Who are you? And how and why did you enter my home?” Logan knew some defensive spells from memory, so if things went wrong he knew he’d be able to defend himself. But first, he wants to hear the intruder’s story.

“Oh! I’m Remus! You can probably guess by my appearance but I might as well say that I’m Roman’s twin brother. To answer your second question, I simply picked the lock on your door and entered the house. I wanted to find out who had caught my twin’s attention so much that he’s been out a night so much lately.” Remus explains with a smirk.

“…Your Roman’s brother?” Logan stared in shock at the man. While it was clear Remus and Roman looked similar, the two clearly had very different personalities. Despite just meeting Remus, Logan could tell that the merman was very chaotic. After all, Remus did break into the cottage. He clearly doesn’t care too much about the law.

“Yes! I got tired of my brother leaving me alone so much. I wanted to go on the adventure, so I came here and found you!” Remus says and he points a finger at Logan. “So tell me, what has my twin been doing with you here so often. Are you his boyfriend? Because if so, then I don’t know why he didn’t tell me. We promised as kids to tell each other about any relationships we have in the future. My own brother has betrayed me! I’ve been stabbed in the back!” The merman then dramatically places a hand on his chest, as if in pain.

Logan sighs and tiredly shakes his head. “I thought Roman was dramatic at times, but you seem even more eccentric than him. And to answer your question, no, your brother and I aren’t dating. So he hasn’t betrayed you. Roman is my friend though. He’s mainly been coming over here to help me put my son to bed whenever he can’t stop crying.”

“So you’re telling me I’m basically an uncle now, and I wasn’t told about this! Roman has basically been playing house with you here and I wasn’t invited to join this family. I must meet my nephew now!” Remus says before he starts to curiously look around the hallway. “Where’s the little gremlin?”

“You’re not an uncle. Roman isn’t my son’s other dad. He’s just a friend who helps me out. But since you wanted to know what your brother gets up to here, I might as well introduce you to Janus anyway. But you need to be quiet. I put him to sleep before coming out here to look for you.”

“Okay!” Remus shouts before quickly correcting himself, “Okay, I’ll be extra quiet. I can be really sneaky when I need to.”

Logan sighs again before motioning for Remus to follow him towards the bedroom. The two men enter the room to see Janus sleeping peacefully in his crib. Logan glances at Remus to see him staring in what looks like amazement at Janus.

“He has scales on his face. Is he part dragon? Snake? Does he also have magic like you? I noticed all the spell books you have so I know you’re probably a witch.” Remus rambles quietly as he continues to admire the scales on the baby’s face.

“I think his scales resemble snake scales the most. And I don’t think he has magic, at least not right now. He might develop some in the future since he was created through a spell by the Dragon Witch. And you’re correct in assuming that I’m a witch.” Logan replies. Logan is impressed by how observant the merman seems to be. Remus noticed all the spell books and correctly assumed that Logan was a witch.

“You’ve met the Dragon Witch?! I’ve always wanted to meet her since hearing stories about how powerful she was when I was a kid! Can you introduce me?!” Remus shouts excitedly, forgetting about being quiet. This causes Janus to wake up and start crying. Remus looks over to the now awake and crying baby before looking to Logan apologetically.

“I’m sorry magic man. Let me make up for disturbing the gremlin.” Remus says quietly and walks closer to the crib before Logan can question what he’s going to do. The merman then kneels before the crib and starts singing a lullaby. His singing voice is more raspy than Roman’s, but it’s still just as soothing and Janus soon falls back asleep. Remus then looks to Logan and smiles slightly. “He’s okay now.”

“I can see that. Thank you for calming him back down. But please try to not disturb him again while you’re here. We can continue talking in the living room so we don’t disturb Janus.” Logan replies with a small smile on his face.

“You want to keep talking to me?” Remus asks, tilting his head in surprise and confusion.

“Yes. You had some questions before that I didn’t get to answer. And since you helped with Janus and seem harmless, I’d like to keep talking to you.” Logan says. The witch can tell that like him, Remus probably struggles when it comes to friendships. The merman only mentioned his brother and was clearly upset that Roman kept leaving him alone to hang out with Logan.

Remus smiles and replies, “Okay. I’d like to talk to you more too. You seem interesting, magic man.”

Logan smiles back and motions for Remus to follow him to the living room. The two then spend a good portion of the night just talking about whatever comes to mind. Logan tells Remus about the Dragon Witch, and answers any other questions the merman has. In return, Remus answers any questions Logan has about the magic of merpeople and life under the water. Eventually the two notice how late it’s gotten and Logan says they should probably get some sleep. The witch lets Remus stay the night on the couch and Logan goes back to his room to rest.

The next day, the two men and Janus eat breakfast together (the adults have cereal and Janus has a bottle of baby formula). Remus and Logan continue discussing random things and end up realizing they really like spending time together. After breakfast, Remus decides he should go home since Roman is probably wondering where he’s been. Logan agrees and walks Remus to the door.

“Thanks for stopping by. Despite you breaking in and initially startling me, I enjoyed getting to know you. Would you want to meet up again sometime? Without the breaking in part.” Logan asks, feeling more comfortable initiating hang-outs with potential friends.

Remus gives a big smile and nods, “Sure, I’d love to hang out again. And this time, I’ll knock on the door to let you know I’m here. Or I guess you know where to find me too since you probably know where my brother and I live.”

“Yes, I know where you two reside. Now you should probably get going before Roman starts to look for you.” Logan says and watches as Remus nods in agreement. Before leaving though, Remus quickly hugs Logan before pulling away and turning around.

“Goodbye, magic man! See you around.” Remus says with a smirk before walking away. Logan stands in surprise for a moment and watches Remus leave. The witch hadn’t expected to receive a hug right away. Patton was a hugger but he didn’t initiate hugs until he and Logan had been friends for a while.

Logan smiles to himself. That hug was nice, and he could definitely see himself getting used to sudden hugs from Remus in the future.

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End Notes: Thanks for reading chapter 4 of “A Witch and a Baby.” Please consider leaving a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it. I know I probably didn’t write Remus as well as I could have, but I tried to somewhat portray his chaotic energy. There will probably be two more chapters after this, and then I’ll have completed this fanfic.

-Monkey💜

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Links for this fanfic

Link to the next part: To be added

Link to previous part: https://www.tumblr.com/monkeythefander/739099978507714560/a-witch-and-a-baby-chapter-3-a-lullaby-from-a

Link to this chapter on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52055863/chapters/135705025

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #a witch and a baby sanders sides fanfic #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders mention #the dragon witch mention #her name is Delaney #witch logan sanders #baby janus sanders #merman roman sanders #merman remus sanders #sanders sides fantasy au

[moonspower]

✨ give a name to a flower / give a star a wish / i can't give you myself.

DARK EARTH ZODIAC.

🌙 The Underearth.

The Underearth is a place of slow-shifting roots, the quietest and most constant life of the forest. Those who find themselves aligned with the Underearth are those who find their truest selves not in the eyes of another or the light of the sun, but in private acts of creation. The tend to be dutiful, capable, and thoughtful, whilst also often being slow to change, awkward, and anxious. While many pass the Underearth by without notice, those few who make it past topsoil and into the heart below are held dear. It is rare that someone can delve to the true center of those under this sign. 

The earth keeps its secrets close to its chest-- sometimes, so deep that it cannot find them when it does choose to look. The Underearth are devoted to their work, able to criticize and peek and prod just where it needs, but they have no such luck with probing the self. People under this sign can be enormously generous. Though less showy than some of the other signs, when the Underearth does choose to shine, they are like a clean cut gem, brilliant, sharp, and precious. They tend to favor gifts of their own making, paying close attention to what it is that delights those around them. They prefer to avoid being the center of attention themselves, however, and often do not know how to react to being shown the same care that they show to those they love.

✨ TAGGED BY: stole from @countlessrealities heehee. ✨ TAGGING: @vendettamuses harry!! @starfoam @pararennial @advnterccs rick! @kharimera​ @sooperdark @dynamoprotocol @the27percent @bewitchingbaker + steal it!

#🌙 ABOUT! CANCERIAN SUN SHINING IN THE EVENING. #/ hard to reach but with a good heart? yup!!!

[kaiasky]

Recently rediscovered an audio log I had made while tripping. I tripped and then played tabletop/journaling RPGs, to prep for GMing a D&D oneshot where the players would be tripping and the gm sober. (the oneshot never actually happened sadly/fortunately)

This, unsurprisingly for me and particularly where I was at the time (this is around the time I did 5-25kaia stuff), led to me arguing with my past and future self in a long rambling 1h30m audiolog recorded in parts throughout the trip. For the first part, i was playing Delve by blackwell games, then i wandered around the apt and streets thinking, then i sat down to try and play a hack of dungeon world.

I do not think this is very interesting to read.

but it was very funny and highly recommend that if you are going to trip [this is not an endorsement of tripping or not] you should get a cheap audio recorder and yell at your sober self.

- "do i think the dragon,, dragon. the dragon dragon. um. dragon. fight the dragon? no it'd kill me. cant risk it. [30 seconds of silence, then i remember the recorder records voice and not thoughts]. but thankfully its asleep."

- "its all garish and costly because theyre building their fantasy fancy. thing. fuck. [saccharine voice] you know what i meeaannn. its a kitchen :("

- "its like the eiffel tower, in that everybody hates it but once we're all dead. its gonna be like a landmark. fuck. talking :("

- "im just imagining [[the mine entrance that doubles income below it]] like a lifeguard tower. but thats silly. [at self] fuck you. fuck you. its a lifeguard tower. shut up. theres a big lifeguard and he says thats too much money, give it to me.... [next turn] they dig up a temple below it. so theres. a cult of the lifeguard mine. that thinks we should be lifeguard mining. so theyre going to mine there. lifeguard mine there. [laugh]"

- [the temple in the lifeguard mine is revealed to be a mimic and i am OVERJOYED at how perfect this is. the mimic called out to the dwarves to build the lifeguard mine and they built it and fed themselves gleefully into its maw. wish there had been a lifeguard on that mine! everything i say for the next 15 minutes is about how i love the lifeguard mine]

- "these dwarves are really like suffering and i like it. the gems and ruby crystals keep looking more and more natural and wet and like teeth and blood. and they break through into a small chamber with foul smelling gas and an archway carved with ancient sigils. and they retreat and. the lifeguard mine isn't gonna be a problem for them any more, fuck yes. talking is easy when its describing how these guys die. im gonna draw an evil sigil. i think drawing evil sigils could be fun"

- "i cannot explain the things to you, i think the things and i think i should have communicated them. i am experiencing the process of making myself legible, but i think a lot of this is just that i trip solo, where tripping with others there is a lot of this experience already. i think i just came here to say, this peach is good. peaches are a good experience. *peach noises*. goodbye."

- "this is me to sober me. have you ever noticed that the lights on the bicycle make it look like a weird little alien creature. say hi sometime."

- "ok. so, I don't want it to end. but i lost by the rules. so i have to figure out how i want to cheat in a way that works and feels good. which is difficult. so im going to say that we're cut off from the surface by the lich king . which breaks a lot of the rules but im going to say the lifeguard mine is the new core of dwarven domain." [[i go back and forth on how to resolve the fact that i lost and would have to break the rules, and don't come to a decision]]

- "fundamentally i do not think i—i the creature here—was meant to think about dwarves. That's not a complaint its just. i think about the things the songs are suggesting to me and. [laughing] they are not math. [sob-laugh] they are not math. [pause]. they're so sour.... by the way i know these [recordings] will not be useful to you"

- "figuring out what to do with a lit candle was not the smartest decision of me. i think i can just blow it out, but you know. the significance—sorry you should try this. you light a candle and you snuff it out and you cover the lid and. the air pulls on your hand. you can really feel the suction. that's cool"

- "so for some reason, i have decided i need to roll a bunch of dice and add them up. so you can know well i can do math. i have. 1d20, 2d12. ... this is difficult. anyways i rolled 51. did i add those correctly? i took a picture figure it out" [[an: correct! i checked]]

- "ok so like, you're trying to study yourself and how you respond to this. to figure out how to do this better but also just to study yourself. and so.. [music changes and i lose train of thought] think it was like. recording me is mean, because. it makes me sound dumber. because theres some subject object positioning you're positioning yourself as the interlocutor. and so you're putting me-yourself into disadvantageous positions from the get-go. which is all to say you've imagined yourself and you're beating yourself up. fuck. im yourself too. fuck.

- "the difference between this vs if i was talking with somebody in real life. we have this sort of interviewer-interviewee dichotomy going on. im talking about things to an interested audience but they aren't saying things back. but i think part of the fun of acid and why it'd be so good with an rpg group is the struggle to communicate because that's all anything is or something, actually. communication is the thing you try to do as a human in life—or a dwarf."

- "i do think its very funny that you decided you wanted to make yourself extremely legible. like i feel like most people get into this state and think "ok, I don't have to be legible". i don't have to make sense. but youve gone in this opposite direction of my thoughts have to be rigorously justified [saccharine voice] which is very stupid. because they dont.”

- "can you imagine what reading-listening to 45 minutes of this is going to sound like? [[an: yes i can.]] it's going to sound like nonsense! and that's what it is! we're 3hrs in, just timestamping for you. which also means ive been recording for a lot of the time ive been on drugs. like. a big fraction. percentagewise"

- "this hasn't been a very visual trip, because ive been trying to focus on stuff. like dwarves."

- "why did i think i had to record this. im sorry. sorry. im recording a fucking "my voice sounds bad" thing on,, acid. but i feel like my voice should sound more like. girlvlogger. when im talking about this to my camcorder, because im trying to make things legible to you like a vlogger."

- "none of this makes sense. but just but just think about how im feeling, and dwarves, and west [an: the sleeping at last song] and you'll be able to rederive it. i think we say that to a lot of people online. im interested to see how it is for you" [AN: no fucking idea]

- "god dammit. it was paused. i was thinking about an eyeball monster, and how that's like, an analogy. for how acid is the experiential and not intellectual. because the person who said that it was very stupid is right" [AN: referring to some wikipedia thing about an early person seeing his academic friends taking acid who said like, ‘it cant really give profound insights because the people taking it all sound really fucking stupid’]

- "the greedy algorithm thing becomes relevant once again because im just a greedy algorithm, because once i look forward i cannot help but have changed the entity that was looking forward. that made sense. this is about dwarves im talking about dwarves again."

- "ok, so an experiment that you can do for me. i feel like im thinking faster than i can put things into words. and... if you had to put things into words for things you are thinking about right now would you be able to do this? did i. [laugh] i think i came here to ask my future self what it was like being sober. which is a real fucking lot.

- "ok the point is i guess. there's debate over what this is for, is this for me. which is you listening to this is a future subject position i am taking to sort of imagine myself in to force myself to put things into words and through putting things into words, becoming the person who has to put things into words which is a novel and unique position to convince me to think about things. OR, is this supposed to be useful to you, because you wanted...to plan an...rpg [laughing] jesus christ oh my god. you wanted to plan a fucking rpg so am like this. [aside] yep . yep that is what happened isnt it right. yup um ok. [pause to eat goldfish and contemplate life]. and so i guess in the terms of the rest of my life. i am actually trying to explain this to you. i am trying to figure ou—fuck what am i doing? [laugh] this is intended to be a useful document for my future self to plan an rpg. i know what this is, and it is NOT a useful document to plan an rpg! You are just talking to a tripping person. and that's not particularly enlightening. except for me, the tripping person. get fucked! :)"

- "Its really just messing with me that the purpose i am like this right now is [through laughter] to figure out how rpg people would feel on a trip. like you really did it. this is gonna be how they are! you'll see, it'll be funny. get fucked! you were like [frat boy voice] ok ill prepare ill get so prepared by doing drugs. [me voice] and now you have to tripsit-gm for TWO groups and one of them's me. and im in the PAST which is really an L for you but [unmitigated glee] its really funny for me. oh my god get absolutely fucked!"

- "those dwarves are so screwed. im really excited for them!"

- "and I think an RPG will be easier if there is somebody else just sort of making a momentum that continues even if people aren't thinking in that direction. because right now the momentum is that if i think a thing i will continue thinking things. and if i don't make myself tethered to the act of speaking into a microphone, or talking my way through a task, then I'm going to fly off and get lost in the fog. So i think having a gm will be good. which is to say that it's rather rude of you not to be here for *my* game because i am invested in these dwarves, and i want somebody to figure out the math for me while i just decide how the dwarves are sad."

- "ok, I'm going to try and go through the dungeon world character creation,, as though i were?? two separate people? as though i were one person? we will just have to find out. but i think this is the part we were the most curious about, so buckle the fuck up. i am having such a hard time and you are just not helping me at all. :(("

- "are your thoughts filled such.. latent thoughts? all these things are filled with all these subthoughts, that I'm not gonna pursue, but they're just there. *sigh*. right im going to play some fucking dungeon world. idk i feel like it's a little bit cruel to—i haven't tripped with people in so long but like. they keep getting pulled up from the depths every couple of seconds because you're like, what do you do? and whatever you're thinking about—you know, what it would be like to be samol hieron—is interrupted by like, i attack the goblin. and i know thats the point of this i know thats the point of this."

- “i think you'll never understand because you're not in my brain and you'll never understand how weird i want it to be and i think if you said like, sure youre in the cosmic realm oooh its all trippy. its like, you don't understand what that's like. you couldn't describe trippy as a gm. i dont remember what the start of this was. Anyway you're poking yourself to the surface, which isn't as fun. and i think that's also a function of tripping with other people, but also you're a very talky person whos demanding their attention. i dont always like that. sometimes people are talking and i just sort of tune them out. so i think [serious voice] if there's one important thing to take from this, it'd be like, them being able to tune you out because you are being an annoying gm. important. and you cannot expect their attention."

- "ok so i have a character! hes tisald and hes a dwarf. so he is like a dwarf, but he doesn't have the sort of stocky build you'd expect. he carries this slim blade that gleams in the night and ripples like water, and I don't think he talks much, but he's like weirdly compelling when he does. what im saying is hes probably a vampire. or like, hes bad news. maybe he'll defeat the lich king but he's probably bad news later if he gets what he wants."

- "ok so i dont have 2d6, somehow, which is certainly a choice for me, to have. but this is fine, actually. im just going to roll a d12 and divide by 2, and that's a d6. so ok obviously i cant play this game—what are you trying to do kenyon. this d12 idea is the stupidest thing I've done its sad. make sure you get good dice for your players this is sad for me."

- "ok so the problem is rules. ok we've kinda been toying with the idea that i can be both perspectives at once, but i cannot, because i cannot be the gm and the player. i can be sober and tripping that's fine, but like. i can't be like, heres what you find down the corridor, what do you do, and then also decide what you do, because that's just thinking—you're just thinking. the fundamental thing is like. ok ive been thinking about it in these terms—you open the door and peek inside. your character does. and in my mind there's something else that's supposed to fill in there, and that is the role of the rules, or the gm, or the collaborators. but you're trying to fill this in with yourself and i dont think that works because that's just imagining. or dreaming."

- "i dont think you want to set yourself as the adversary of the adventure, which i think was kinda your idea. or like, sober you's temptation was... that you would be the evil thing that they would fight at the end. and i think that's a very sober-person plotline."

- "i mean i think the key thing is that my thoughts are so permeated with meaning but that is not because i am better at thinking, it's because my brain is stupid and scrambled. [sigh]. i guess i just wanted to tell you that you're not incomparably dull compared to me. [laugh] jesus christ is that why i hit record?? to say it's ok to be sober?"

- "i think where we're at. as best as i can figure are, 1) talking as the sober person is not going to be.. idk, i feel like there are sober people that could be entertaining to hear talk, but i think, a lot of the time you're not talking at their level, and i think especially that goes for psychedelia. like i think if somebody was like, to me? there's like some crazy rainbow swirly wormhole, i would be like, yeah ok, i can picture that and its, fine, but it doesn't do anything special to me because im tripping. and sadly i think that the eyeballs thing also, is bad. [pause] idk. i think if you stuck eyeballs on a plant i would find it funny to me personally. yeah"

#drugs

[kaus-fangirlis]

I saw your tags and I'm straight up screaming because 1. You realize ss/kk isn't that well-founded! thank you for saying that! and 2. YOU KNOW PANDORA HEARTS AND JACK VESSALIUS, FUCKED UP LOVE OF MY LIFE. Thank you for your existence this makes me so happy I wanna hug you and squish your cheeks.

First of all, thank you for sending a non-BSD fandom-related ask to my sideblog, it helps me keep my main blog @kaus-quietis clean and somewhat organized <3 Second of all, I’ll have you know that HOW COULD I NOT?? Pandora Hearts is my fav manga I’ve read in my teen years!!

I’ll leave more under the cut, not to flood the dash too much <3

By "fav manga of my teen years” I mean, I kinda split my “fandom activity” into “teen years” (whatever that mess was – 19) and “young adulthood years” (20 – present), because I noticed significant changes in my tastes are they crystalized and as I got to know myself better too. This is why I say PH is my fav manga of my teen years, and currently BSD is a competitor for “fav manga of my young adulthood”, together with Tokyo Ghoul. We’ll see! I also created those categories because I realized huge changes in the way I choose my favs (previously it was more like they “chose” me, somehow, randomly / with no apparent rule – this applies to Oz, Vanitas from Kingdom Hearts, Eren from Attack on Titan, Naruto from the Naruto series etc. – , but now I know my stuff and my personality and all, so my choices are very well-grounded and conscious. Or sometimes fate takes your hand and makes you write an essay about who will end up being your fav, dethroning Dazai forever). This is why, surprisingly, Oz is my favourite character from PH, followed by Xerxes Break, but if I would have read PH now, I’m sure, absolutely sure, Break would have been my fav. Either way, the immense amount of tears I shed for Break were foreshadowing that, in a different timeline, he would have been indeed my fav...

My experience with PH was that of reading it month by month, chapter after chapter, with the fandom weeping and shouting and theorizing with no end and there was sooooo much to analyze and so many symbols everywhere. And I cried so much, oh gosh, not to even mention when the entire Eliott arc happened, THOSE MONTHS KJFGNKFD. That manga is a gem, especially in later volumes when the artstyle just BLOOMS, and I watched it bloom before my eyes as years passed. I cannot even describe for how many days I cried nonstop when the manga ended. I was there when we first saw Vanitas waving at Oz, as Oz was leaving... Still, when MochiJun went on with Vanitas no Carte, be it for burn-out or other media, I never caught up with the VnC manga and currently struggle to get into the anime. We’ll see how that goes. It’s very different from the PH feel to me.

Sel, you should check out all the PH stuff I reblogged on this sideblog lol. It’s under my #ph tag. But since this blog was created only in 2017, the majority of my PH fandom activity was on other websites or my long-dead accounts till then, so there are not a lot of posts, ironically. I realize there is a lot of................... Break content because of this distance in time (2017 onwards, because I was already........ 21 or so........................... that means.......... yeah the foreshadowing that he would have been my fav was already materializing gkdfsngf)

#Lav answers #Sel #pandora hearts discussion time yesss #my fav manga forever #I wonder if I'll feel as strongly for BSD as I feel for PH <3 #we will see after the series ends... that determines everything

[beloved-blaiddyd]

Dear Brynlee,

One realizes that the matters of the telepathic are entirely fictional and isn’t an effective measure of communication. Naturally, one such as myself shall apply this standard both to myself and others. I must tell you of an immensely *crass* individual I had come across! Trying to barge into your home and demanding answers, carrying a bag full of…let’s call it items pertaining to the past, whether it be the distant past or the recent past. You may have noticed, but do not worry. I have dealt with that…troubled gentleman. Really, let’s just put such people away into the recesses of our minds. Their words and questions are not worth pondering over. Unfortunately, I do not have much with me, so there is little I can offer you but these words and what I have enclosed. Aha, of course I would enclose a gift. I intend to keep alive the manners so many have crushed under their heel and spat on. It’s nothing special, really. Just a pair of ivory chopsticks, as white and as resplendent as bone. And perhaps we may enjoy a cup of coffee, from a shop by the sea overlooking the sun. Over there, nothing goes missing. A lovely day to you,

An Ambling Soul

Dear An Ambling Soul,

I have been hoarding this letter in hopes that I can conjure up a witty response, but alas, I am unable to do so. I cannot ascertain with this minimal information as to who this "crass" individual is— much less who is the sender (you) of this letter.

Hopefully that did not come off as rude, but am I to presume that you are from another realm? Liyue, perhaps? My knowledge on Teyvat matters are limited and I do not wish to offend you with an extraordinaire hypothesis such as "you must be an adeptus!". Especially when I know little of the aforementioned race.

If I got that wrong, well, this is embarrassing, but are you one of my students? Blue Lions? Golden Deer? Black Eagles? Ashen Wolves? Heavens, forgive me. I do not keep up with new monikers youngbloods have for each other as of late. It's rather awkward for me to receive such luxurious presents when I cannot ascertain your identity. I am so sorry.

Thank you for these eating utensils. Much like coffee, they're uncommon here in Fodlan. Fortunately and unfortunately, I am incredibly fond of both. Many thanks for such a boon! In return, I've encased some teas the Archbishop recommended and some gemstone beads. The latter includes gems such as topaz and aventurine. I find them quite lovely. I hope you are of the same opinion.

Best regards,

- Brynn Lear

#$ support conversations #$ a-support = Ambling Soul #This is so beautifully written but I also have no idea what this is about HAHAH IS THIS ABOUT SUNDAY????? #Btw i aint scolding you or something heck nahhh I'm playing along HAHAHAHAH #I jusy have zero clue if I'm talking to an adeptus 😭😭😭😭

[freezerheart]

This isn't Going to Work, is It?

An anthology of poems I wrote while in a relationship that was doomed to fail, recorded here in chronological order from the beginning to the end~

A butterfly in a glass jar doesn't flap its wings to escape because its prison isn't a spider's web, nor is it stuck in beeswax. Its trap is your love. In its vanity, it never wants to leave. In its heart, it longs for a return to freedom.

Their poison is in my blood and I worry there's no saving me. Their stingers are quills in my heart and I'm numb but it hurts it hurts you it hurts me this viral venom they leave the aftermath of the wasps.

The thing about my heart is it was built to bleed. It was built to break. And it was built to keep pumping.

The thing about my eyes is they are built to weep. They were built to close. And they were built to see.

The thing about me is I was built to fall. I was built to hurt. And I was built to stand up.

I froze my heart once to keep it preserved. But I thawed it in the microwave and it hasn't been the same since. It's mushy and collapses at the lightest touch. But when I see the inside, it's cool and crystallized! I thought I was so clever, doing myself a favor. But what is there to do with a freezer burned heart?

I've never been good at treading lightly but sometimes I stand very, very still and let the silence surround me. In the morning they'll find me, stiff limbs blue face suffocated silent.

The clock strikes twelve. But I barely hear it, my ears are tuned to my heartbeat and your voice as you tell me the clock strikes twelve.

I open my eyes and it's too dark I can't tell where you are because your eyes spark with neither compassion nor malice when the clock strikes twelve.

The knife does though, it glistens with blood and tears, flashing every time the clock strikes twelve.

You haven't made the first cut but I curl into my stomach, because my stomach is where I keep my soul and it felt the cut from the first time the clock strikes twelve.

I can tell this is a magic knife because when you cut me, I can tell it cuts you as well. At this point, I'm not sure which of us you came here planning to hurt. The clock strikes twelve.

But I can't hear it. There's blood in my ears and it blocks out the noise as The clock strikes twelve.

I smell candle wax. Some of it drips on my skin. It forms a second layer. I feel stronger, but I still jump when the clock strikes twelve.

The wax cools over time as much my skin now as ever before. I take a step into the moonlight the next time the clock strikes twelve.

A being of wax and flesh like my cannot play with fire. But I never appreciated the warmth then so I crave it when the clock strikes twelve.

The moonlight highlights my vice; a being of fire. No knife does it carry, its eyes compassionate and steady even though the clock strikes twelve.

Even as my wax melts away, leaving my bloody, I creep toward the flame ready to turn a new page, but-- the clock strikes twelve.

They say that lis'ning is an act of love. If that be so, then say, sir apathy; Could there be stories writ by gods above that I could tell to end this agony? If words were stars that fell down from the sky, so precious we would never squander them, you'd gather mine like pebbles with a sigh and wonder when these rocks will turn to gems. I hid my heart inside a shooting star in hopes I could find yours among the clouds but you don't wish upon the sky so far and I can't hear your voice, I'm far too loud. If I can only love you with my ear, then cut away my tongue so I can hear.

I tell you I love you to the tune of your favorite song as you list off the cars that pass by. I give you a gift and you accept it and I'm happy because you're happy. I hold you as you fall asleep, so you don't notice when I get up again and write bad poetry about how lonely I am.

You tell me you love me in a language I don't speak but because you're sincere, I'm supposed to know what you mean. It hurts your shoulders to hold me so you wrap my arms around your body as though the meanings are the same. You wake when I leave at night to ask if I'm okay. But how do I tell you I want you to listen when I have nothing to say?

You ask me what I want and I freeze. You want me to ask for something easy. A book, a movie, a toy. But I can't lie. I want you. your eyes your ears your mind your body. I want you to see how much I work, appreciate how much I give, read my poetry, ask for my stories, love me in my native language.

This isn't my first winter but somehow, each one seems colder than the last. The frostbite doesn't have time to thaw before its iceified once more. I would beg you for a winter coat But you don't seem to realize it's cold. So I suppose I'll just stand here and shiver until spring finally comes or I'm buried in the snow.

Reading strangers' poetry like it's penned in your blood. but you won't hear the words that speak to my soul and I suppose you'll never understand how it feels to be alone.

Not in the mirror or the portait. Not on the camera, not on the TV. I keep looking and looking I've forgotten how to tell what distinguishes you from me.

I am a delicacy. Marbled flesh may never be beautiful but it is the best to devour. Slow moving, never learning, never understanding my marbled meat is tender easy to eat like swallowing silk. A subtle sweetness; the repressed urge to cling to loved ones and squeeze what affection they have for me away. My need for validation a background subtlety that adds to the dish. My inability to accept criticism even where it truly does not exist adds a hint of spice to every bite. My fear is sour my resentment a fading bitterness my unstoppable tears a salty marinade the intensity of my joy a pat of butter my capacity for love the garlic therein. So eat up, friend. My desperation to get it right means I won't even complain when you bite into my flesh so long as you tell me I'm tasty.

I imagine a gilded tongue rubies dropping from my speaking lips value streaming from each syllable. But you listen to me like bugs squirm between my teeth and snakes bite through my breath. And so I shut my mouth so the sapphires don't turn to rodents when they're sullied by your judgment

And so what if there's glass in my heart? What, do you expect me to pick it out? Do you think digging through tender flesh with your sharp, glinting tweezers will fix me? The glass is not tied to the shadows the shadows are not causing the rot the rot is not making me bleed> The glass is not the only symptom, it is not the only culprit. Leave me be. Let my body scar itself.

My spirit has become lead since I met you. The wind in my sails has stagnated and I have fallen into the bottom of the ocean. And yet In your eyes, the fire's warmth. And I, the moth drawn to it. I need your love like I need water to drink and I don't know how to resurface because all I want is the flame.

You stand here before me, soft eyes gazing as sunlight reflects off my skin. Gentle eyes caress me loving gaze travels my body. "you're beautiful," you say, tucking shining strand behind aluminum ear. As you discuss hair the color of teak and ocean blue eyes, I wonder. When you gaze at me, caress me, cherish me; are you searching for features beneath my glassy skin? Or are you enamored of how you see yourself, reflected in the mirror I've become?

#my poem #original poem #poems and poetry #poems and quotes #poetic #spilled ink #poetblr #breakup

[soupercatte]

An impromptu tour around Ul'Dah led Seo and I to discover a small Curio shop tucked away near the gates to central Thanalan. I don't think I'd ever noticed it before, but it was blissfully cool inside considering the sweltering heat.

There were items stacked nearly to the ceiling from every corner of the realm, from Gridania to Ishgard to Othard and Ilsabard. I even found an old carving of Cinduruva hidden on a shelf! It was old, the wood splintered and the paint flaking and she did not have her sisters with her, but it was a pleasant find nonetheless. It reminded me of the figurines my Da used to carve when I was a child and made me long for Corvos even more than I usually do.

Seo discovered a couple of plants in the window and seemed rather taken with them, though for the life of me I'm not certain why. They were scrawny little things, the purple flowered one looking as if it would crumble if you so much as looked at it wrong but he carried them around in his arms until he was ready to leave, haggling a rather astounding discount. Perhaps the shopkeep felt bad for the plants as well, bereft as they were.

Before we left a stuffed carbuncle caught my eye. It was made a soft fabric akin to a velvet with glass eyes and little red gem sewn in place. Normally I wouldn't be interested in such a thing but now that Teka'a is living with me, I always find myself on the lookout for small trinkets or toys I think he might enjoy. I have noticed him watching the familiars when we are home in Gridania, so I suspect he would like one himself. I cannot conjure a carbuncle nor will I ever, I think, so this toy would be the next best thing I could offer short of the boy figuring out how to summon one himself! I was able to get a good price on the toy and have it safely tucked away until I am able to return home to him, whenever that may be. Seo has more of his "experiments" he would like to conduct on my condition, so Sisters only know when I'll be released. Until then, though, this little toy will keep me company until it reaches its new owner.

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #my wol #ffxiv balmung #ff14 rp #ffxiv rp #oc rp #art #doodle #miqo'te #ffxiv miqo'te #viera #male viera #ul'dah

[silentdeor]

i've seen a post about Theodén being unable to use words. but. when he names Merry "holbytla" he is not inventing sth on the spot bc he doesn't remember - he uses the ancient word for "the hobbit", look at this passage from rotk (appendix f):

The origin of the word hobbit was by most forgotten. It seems, however, to (...) be a worn-down form of a word preserved more fully in Rohan: hobytla, 'hole-builder'.

in the appendix it is said that the hobbits were always using the languages of Men (if they had any of their own, they are not recorded anywhere), so, yes, "hole-builder' is a very probable name for them, and it seems that if the forefathers of the Travellers, the heroes of the Third Age, had been more pedantic and less fool of the Tooks, Bilbo's book would be titled "There and Back Again: A Hobytla's Tale".

but going back to Theoden and his vocabulary: when he's calling Éowyn and Éomer sister-daughter and sister-son, he's doing no more than acknowledging that in Meduseld everything is relative to the niece sister, which means that the Rohirrim are all feminists by default, thank you for coming to my lecture.

#the hobbit #lotr #tolkien languages #rohirrim #theoden #bilbo #it might not be very enlightening for you #but here i am #reading rotk 7 h in a row bc i cannot sleep of stress #and when i notice a gem like this i cannot keep it to myself #also every reason for the rohirrim to be feminists is valid

[alice-angel12x]

Gem! Rook x Reader x Gem! Vil

Living Gems or the lustrous are beautiful immortal yet fragile beings. A luxury object for the wealthy and higher class. Some did standard household chores, were guards of sorts, or even a personal Assistant.

I came from a wealthy household and my parents owned two lustrous. The guard of our estate was a yellow diamond named Rook, and my mother's personal attendant was an amirite gem named Vil.   Mother was a famous fashion designer

Growing up I grew close to Rook when my parents were away, and rook was the one looking out for me.  He would show me the beauty of the forest and everything, he was my closest friend. He was always there for me when I was a child. We would play together, go on tiny adventures, and he would even read me bead time stories.

Vil on the other hand... Let's just say our relationship was not the best in the beginning. Me being the outdoor tomboy child I was I had no interest in fashion and the like. Looking back now, I wish I was a more observant kid at 9years old.

_____________________

"Just put on the dress, this is a special occasion," Vil sighed as he held up a very frilly dress.

"I don't wanna wear that," a child Y/n complained.

"Your, Mother made this for you. You need to look your best," Vil said, just bearly hiding a growl.

"No, it's so girly," the title child whined.

"You Brat!" Vil snapped, startling Y/n. " What I would give to have beautiful things like this. I'm not even allowed to purchase anything for myself!"

Vil gasped as his anger cooled and saw a crying child in front of him. He quickly ran out of the room as Rook rushed in to comfort the young child.

_______________________

I was indeed a spoiled brat back then, I never noticed how Vil would stare in envy at all the pretty ladies and girls. How they could freely buy anything beautiful for themselves, while he couldn't.

'Rook, you shouldn't keep pampering that child and just do your task. Guarding the house," Vil said bitterly as the two sat in their empty quarters.

There was one window, two beds, and a small closet with uniforms the L/n gave them.

"I cannot, I just can't help but want to protect their innocente smile," Rook said, looking out the window.

"She is just like any other spoiled human child, sooner or later they won't see you as a living being. Just a shining to flaunt until we break in some way," Vil scoffed.

"En effect, that's why I must enjoy it while it lasts," Room smiled.

Vil scoffed and quickly went to bed, the memories of all those he lost in his long life.

______________________

For a while, I was very scared of Vil, but it really opened my eyes at the time. I finally started noticing the world around me, seeing many sad things.

As a young Y/n, and their mother walked through the crafts fair Y/n noticed a horribly damaged lustrous behind tosses onto the garbage. Y/n gasped in horror as they stared at the horribly shattered gem, it still held a human-like shape.

Y/n wanted to scream in horror, but no sound came out of their mouth. Then suddenly their mother pulled them away from the scene, not really caring that their child was horribly frightened.

"Mommy, w-what's going to happen to the gem?" Y/n asked nervously.

"The Lunarian company come by, picks it up, and repurpose them," The mother answered bluntly as she looked at some pretty jewelry. "Like recycling, like what they teach in school."

"Can we fix them?" Y/n asked as their eyes welled up with tears.

"Of course not," Mother said simply.

I was already scared from what I saw, so I never asked what repurposed meant, or why no one tried fixing them.

______________

That night I had a horrible nightmare about the shattered gem, and Rook quickly came to my side to comfort me. I remember crying a lot that night, and telling Rook how scared I was. And that I didn't want the Lunarian company to take him away.

He smiled and promised he would be careful and won't let the Lunarian company take him.

"Hey Rook, I want to apologize to Vil. I think he's still angry at me," Y/n said as Rook pulled them onto his lap.

"You have such a kind heart Y/n. What do you plan on doing for Vil?" Rook asked.

"I saw him stare at one of my mother's dress designs. I think she discarded it, but Vil seemed to like it," Y/n explained.

"Oh?" Rook smiled.

"hmm, I want to get Vil the dress he likes. He deserves pretty things too," Y/n said looking up at Rook.

"That is a wonderful idea, but you should rest for now," Rook cooed as he tucked Y/n into bed.

___________________________

Being a child, I couldn't sow, so I went to a seamstress to make the dress. Paying them with my child allowance, the dress was made. When I presented the gift to Vil, he... He seemed conflicted. Apart from him wanting to smile and say something, yet his walls kept his thoughts inside

"Vil, Vil, I got something for you," A young Y/n smiled.

"Oh," Vil sighed.

Vil turned to the little child, who had a bright smile on their face. They presented him with a beautiful violet dress.

It was the design his master made, the design he loved so much. Seen it brought to life, even if Y/n's mother thought it was a bad design.

"H-how did you get this?" Vil asked.

"I Got a nice seamstress to make it for me, and Rook gave me your measurements," Y/n smiled.

"Rook! Um, well... Thank you, master Y/n," Vil bowed as he took the dress, turned went into his sleep quarters.

Vil sighed as he stuffed the gift at the back of the tiny closet. He just couldn't let that human into his heart. He has been betrayed many times by humans in the past. He won't let his heart be broken again.

----------------------------------------------

Later on, when I was in my early teen years when the awful happened. One night, a stalker of my other work, tried to break in but was Stopped by Rook. Yet before Rook could apprehend the stalker. A second intruder snuck up behind him and battered him to pieces.

The noise scared them off as well al came outside to see what had happened. Vil and I stared in horror at the scene, while mother and father were annoyed that they would have to find a replacement. To go through so much paperwork to fill for a  new lustrous, and to call the Lunarian company to take the old one away.

Vil was sadly used to things like this and silently said his goodbyes, but I... I wasn't going to give up my friend this easily.

"Y/n we can find another Yellow diamond lustrous to replace Rook," Mother sighed as she tried to pull Y/n off Rook.

"Dear, just let Y/n mourn for a while. They'll come to their senses soon," Father said.

For a long time, I tinkered away in my room trying to find some way to stick the pieces together. Regular glue would only damage the pieces over time, and it's not too strong. So I made a special type of resin made by a special plant and processed it to spend 5 years pricing Rook back together.

__________________

As Y/n, now 18,  placed the final piece in place and processed to cover the cracks powder. It was late night and Y/n just stared n awe of their work, it was almost like Rook was never broken in the first place.  Fatigue was slowly taking over as They rested their head on the table.

As the sun rose, the sunlight shone down onto Rook. As the light sparkled through Rook's shining hair, for the first time his eyes fluttered open. As he did the memories of his shattered flashed before his eyes.

He gasped awake as he startled Y/n awake, causing them both to scream. Vil came rushed to Y/n's room, to see his oldest friend in one piece and awake.

"V-vil?" Rook asked. " Why are you staring at me like that, friend."

Vil quickly ran over and pulled Rook into a hug. Y/n smiled at the sight, Happy that they could make Vil smile once more. Y/n tried to give them privacy, but Rook spotted them trying to leave.

"Young... Y/n?" Rook gasped, only know to recognize them.

"Long time no see Rook," Y/n smiled.

"How much time has passed while I slept?" Rook asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"You were shattered for 5 years, but Stubborn Y/n managed to put you back together," Vil smiled.

Rook looked back to Y/n and sighed seeing his favorite human grow to fast.

_____________________________________________

Twisted wonderland Crystal Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt #vil shoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #houseki no kuni #crossover

[useyernamesteven]

(Needed some goofy fluff to distract myself from the angst im writing so buckle up, its long. Based on that one post I cannot find so if anyone can help a homie out, much appreciated)

Raya/Namaari Accidental Marriage Proposal

Its not a far stretch to assume that the different tribes have different practices and rituals. And given the 500 year gap in communication its also easy enough to assume that the tribes don't know about each others differing customs.

For example: marriage proposals. In Tail its as cut-and-dry as asking. Talon people propose with rings and jade coin. When you propose in Spine you chop down a tree to show your commitment and strength.

The Fang propose with blades. Fang people love their knives, daggers, spears, and other pointy weapons, so if you want to ask someone to marry you, you do it with a blade.

I like to imagine it'd be because offering a blade to someone- who isn't family -is the equivalent of trusting your life to that person. I like to think the Fang value not only a person's strength and honour, but their ability to care and protect their people. So giving a blade to your chosen love is like saying, "I'm giving you this weapon because I trust you with my heart, literally and metaphorically".

But again, 500 year old divide means others have no clue what giving a knife to someone from Fang entails...

So maybe its been a few months or so after the Druun have been vanquished. Raya is still re-learning how to be a 'princess' while playing liaison between the tribes, with Sisu as her partner in crime. She likes it because she still gets to travel and she gets to see her new friends from the other tribes: Boun's business is booming, Noi has started talking, and Tong has become the new Chief of Spine.

Then there's Namaari.

Six years of playing cat-and-mouse together (or rather angry kitten and homeless puppy) can be hard to overcome. At first it was a struggle. And incredibly awkward. Namaari, too guilt ridden over what she'd done, and Raya, still angry and socially stunted, could barely hold a conversation together.

Eventually Raya, fed up with the weird awkward talk, dragged Namaari to Fang's training grounds and challenged her to a sparring match. And only when it was over, the both of them exhausted and laying on the ground, did they start talking, actually talking. About what happened with the gem, with Sisu, what they can't let go of, not yet, but what they hope they can move past one day.

It made things after easier because it was familiar ground for them, but it also opened up new paths too. Now in the months since they saved the world and having spent that time working together, Raya would like to consider Namaari a close friend.

Which is probably why she's so surprised when Namaari off-handedly mentions her birthday is next week. Namaari, who's less than thrilled about her mother's plans for a big celebration, doesn't even notice how much Raya's caught off guard. Namaari doesn't really care for her birthday, much less when her mother makes a big deal about it, but she still brushes her hair behind her ear when she asks Raya if she's going to attend.

Raya recovers, nudging Namaari saying that she's obviously going, and boasting about the amazing gift she's going to bring.

Which then leads to her dragging Sisu to Talon in search of the perfect gift (Sisu being the only 'person' she knows who can help being that she's a master gift giver... Sisu's words, not Raya's, but still). They run around Talon for ages, with Sisu practically buying everything in sight (with the Heart Palace Credit of course) but Raya can't find a single thing she thinks Namaari would actually like.

And then she spots a Fang vendor selling blades.

The woman is nice and she asks Raya if she's looking for something in particular. Raya says she wants to get a dagger for 'someone special' from Fang (not wanting to rack up the price if the woman knew who it was for, but also completely unaware to what she's just implied).

The vendor seems a little surprised but she easily walks Raya through picking out the perfect dagger for her 'someone special'. Raya ends up buying a pretty, yet functional dagger with a dragon engraved in the blade and an ornate box to keep it in. As Raya's leaving the woman gives her a pat on the shoulder and says, "All the best for the both of you and I'm sure she'll say yes," which Raya can't really make sense of so she shrugs and leaves to go find Sisu and her mountain of trinkets.

So now its the party, and when Namaari said Virana was making a big deal about it, she really meant it. People from all the tribes are attending and Sisu's brought her brothers and sisters and there's music and food and fireworks...

And Namaari stands beside her mother in a beautiful dress that makes Raya's heart thud erratically (it's totally platonic). Her and her Ba walk up to them and start making small talk before her Ba and Virana break off to chat with other dignitaries, leaving Raya and Namaari together.

Raya likes how Namaari relaxes around her when its just them, despite the room full of people. They talk and banter and tease and laugh, but more than anything Raya just likes being with Namaari. And when Namaari mentions how much she hates formal wear, how dresses don't suit her, Raya makes it a game to see how many times she can mention how beautiful Namaari looks while they're talking, just because it makes Namaari flush and do the hair thing she does when she's shy. No other heart-related reason.

Its not until much later when Raya suddenly remembers the gift she brought and she runs off to fetch it. When she returns she hands Namaari the sleek box with a smile and a sheepish "Happy Birthday dep'la".

And Namaari's blushing and smiling as she takes the box, telling Raya she didn't have to as she opens the box-

And immediately slams it shut. Her face turns bright red and she whorls on Raya with wide eyes and a panicked, hissed "whatareyoudoing?!" And poor Raya's totally thrown, so sure she'd picked out the perfect gift. "You don't like it?" But Namaari shoves the box back into her hands, with another frenzied whisper "thatsnotit!"

Well now Raya's a little miffed because "You didn't even look at it" and before Namaari can stop her she's pulling the dagger from the box and offering it back to Namaari.

Meanwhile the room goes incredibly quiet as everyone from Fang suddenly notices what's happening between the princesses. Virana nearly spits out her drink. Everyone else carries on like normal, but a few people watch their new Fang friends with curious looks, completely out of the loop.

So now Raya's essentially down on one knee without realizing it, Namaari's about to have a heart attack, everyone from Fang is on the edge of their seat, and the dragons are having a rousing drinking contest with people from Spine.

So the party is going great.

Raya (oblivious to the world save for Namaari) is giving Namaari her strongest puppy dog eyes because she'd spent so long looking for the perfect gift dep'la, and "You're pretty special Namaari, special to me, and you deserve it."

Namaari, as red faced as she is, softens at Raya's admission, smiling a little to herself before she takes the dagger from Raya with a soft "it's lovely dep'la".

And suddenly the room's loud again as people from Fang start clapping and whistling. Everyone else is lost but soon they join in as well, despite having no clue as to what they're cheering for. Namaari's back to being flustered and she grabs Raya's hand and hauls her toward Virana and Benja. Raya, finally taking in the room around them, is confused as to why people are congratulating her and Namaari.

Virana has recovered by the time the two approach and if no one knew better it might've also appeared she was trying hard not to smile. Namaari hisses something to her mother Raya doesn't hear, and she shoots her Ba a questioning look. Benja looks a little pensive but he's got a quirk in his lips that Raya knows means mischief.

Virana gently pats her daughter's shoulder before turning to address the room, excusing the four of them. They turn to leave but not before Virana calls out to the crowd, "And it goes without saying you're all invited to the wedding as well," and then ushers her horrified daughter, her baffled betrothed, and Benja out the door.

Instantly Namaari's in hysterics, asking her mother why she'd say that when Raya obviously didn't know what she was doing. Virana, quite obviously playing ignorance, asks why Namaari accepted the blade if she knew what she was doing. And poor Namaari can only gape, red faced and no come back.

Raya has finally caught on to what she's done and yeah, okay now it all makes sense. The vendor, Namaari's (gay) panic, the congratulations... she just proposed to Namaari. She just proposed to Namaari. In front of most of Kumandra. Oh toi!

Benja, still smirking to himself, ruffles Raya's hair before turning to Namaari and Virana and saying, "To be fair... Namaari did propose first."

Marriage proposals in Heart are an exchange of necklaces. So when Namaari had given Raya the Sisu pendant back when they were kids, they'd essentially gotten engaged and since Raya kept it, they've technically been engaged for the past six years.

(Too) Long story short, Raya and Namaari get engaged, get married, fall in love, and live sapphically ever after.

End.

(Okay, I'm done. Back to angst.)

#raya and the last dragon #ratld #rayaari #rayamaari #raya and namaari #oof i lost steam halfway through this #sorry its so terrible #i just didnt really feel like actually writing it out

[magnetic-rose]

Why Spones is a top-tier ship

AKA “the inherent homoeroticism of annoying the shit out of your co-worker.”

Spock and McCoy have a complicated relationship. A lot of their bickering and ideological differences lead fans to believe that they hate each other, but that’s an over-simplification of the truth. The reality is that Spock and McCoy are extremely close friends who care about each other deeply. Though sometimes their bickering turns serious during stressful situations, for the most time they seem to enjoy the banter. A common mischaracterization of their relationship seems to put McCoy as the bully and Spock as the victim. In truth, there are many times where Spock will say something specifically to get a rise out of McCoy. They fight. That’s how they show affection, not disdain. In fact, one could argue that some of their bantering have a flirtatious tone to it.

Kirk: Mister Spock, regaining eyesight would be an emotional experience for most. You, I assume, felt nothing.

Spock: On the contrary Captain. I had a very strong reaction. My first sight was the face of Doctor McCoy bending over me.

McCoy: ‘Tis a pity brief blindness didn’t increase your appreciation for beauty, Spock. (Operation -- Annihilate!)

Spock is a half-Vulcan, half-Human who has mostly chosen to follow his Vulcan heritage. As such, he is a being of almost pure logic. The truth about Vulcans are that they are secretly beings who feel things very deeply and intensely, and they feel the need to keep a tight lid on their emotions as to not succumb to them. McCoy, on the other hand, is a regular human. He’s a deeply emotional man who cares about others. One could argue that McCoy is almost too empathetic, as he lets his emotions rule him. Spock and McCoy are polar opposites; the brain and the heart, the logic and the emotion, the super-ego and the id.

Despite these differences, the two men are similar in a lot of ways. They’re both men of science, men of peace, and they both care very deeply for their Captain. They’re both self-sacrificing morons, to the chagrin of the other. Spock will prioritize McCoy’s life even when both of them know it’s not the logical choice to do so. Likewise, McCoy will take a hit for Spock even when they both know the Vulcan is stronger and better equipped to deal with pain than the doctor.

Spock: (In the middle of a blizzard) In this severe cold, we cannot survive much longer.

McCoy: Leave me here, Spock.

Spock: We go together or not at all.

McCoy: Don’t be a fool. My hands and face are frostbitten. I can’t feel my feet. Alone, you have a chance. Now do what I say. Go try to find Jim.

Spock: We go together! (All of Yesterdays)

In the episode, “The Empath,” Kirk, Spock and McCoy have to choose someone to be offered as sacrifice to be tortured by a group of aliens. Kirk obviously volunteers, but gets put to sleep by McCoy with a tranquilizer. Spock then states that he’ll offer himself up, as he has the higher chance of surviving the torture. McCoy then proceeds to sedate Spock as well, and sacrifices himself to be tortured by the aliens.

Spock: While the captain is asleep, I am in command. When the Vians return, I shall go with them.

McCoy: You mean, if I hadn't given him that shot

Spock: Precisely. The choice would have been the captain's. Now it is mine.

(McCoy turns away. Spock sits to carry on working. Gem puts her hand on Spock's shoulder, and smiles. McCoy comes up behind him and gives him an injection.)

Spock: Your action is highly unethical. My decision stands. (Spock falls asleep next to Kirk.)

McCoy: Not this time, Spock.

Underneath all the fighting and disagreements, there is a deep caring between Spock and McCoy that manifests itself into protectiveness towards each other. In “All of Yesterdays,” Spock is constantly showing concern for McCoy after he almost died of hypothermia. In aftermath of McCoy’s torture in “The Empath,” Spock is seen hovering over his body and caressing his face, worry written into his features. On the other hand, while McCoy constantly makes fun of Spock for his lack of emotions, he’s also highly aware of the Vulcan’s mental state and protective of it when others threaten to shatter his resilience.

McCoy: He's a Vulcan. You can't force emotion out of him.

Philana: You must be joking, Doctor.

McCoy: You'll destroy him.

Parmen: We can't let him die laughing, can we?

McCoy: (Watching as Spock starts to cry) I beg you! (Plato’s Stepchildren)

The episode “Amok Time” also demonstrates McCoy’s perceptiveness of Spock and Spock’s true feelings of friendship towards McCoy. McCoy is in fact the first person to notice that something is wrong with Spock:

McCoy: Oh, captain. Got a minute? It's Spock. Have you noticed anything strange about him?

Kirk: No, nothing in particular. Why ?

McCoy: Well, it's nothing I can pinpoint without an examination, but he's become increasingly restive. If he were not a Vulcan, I'd almost say nervous. And for another thing, he's avoiding food. I checked and he hasn't eaten at all in three days.

Kirk: That just sounds like Mister Spock in one of his contemplative phases.

Kirk doesn’t notice anything wrong with Spock, and initially dismisses McCoy’s concern, but McCoy immediately picked up on Spock’s mental turmoil. Despite his cantankerousness, McCoy not only cares about Spock but goes out of his way to look out for his mental state. Part of it might be because he’s his doctor, but how many doctors go so far as to monitor someone’s eating habits because they notice that person’s suddenly being fidgety? On Spock’s end, when it comes time for him to beam down to Vulcan to complete his marriage ceremony, he specifically asks for McCoy to be there:

Spock: By tradition, the male is accompanied by his closest friends.

Kirk: Thank you, Mister Spock.

Spock: I also request McCoy accompany me.

McCoy: I shall be honoured, sir.

One episode I find extremely fascinating in terms of McCoy/Spock moments is “Mirror, Mirror.” In this famous episode, half of the Enterprise crew get transported into an alternate universe dubbed The Mirror Verse, in which evil versions of the characters exist and terrorize space as a fearsome military force. McCoy is part of the team that gets transported in the Mirror Verse, while Spock stays in their regular universe. Mirror Spock immediately realizes that half of the crew, including Kirk and McCoy, are acting strangely. When he corners Kirk to question him, he does so by threatening McCoy: “I shall not waste time with you. You’re too inflexible, too disciplined, once you’ve made up your mind. But Doctor McCoy has a plenitude of human weaknesses, sentimental, soft. You may not tell me what I want to know, but he will.” This Spock seems to have a intimate knowledge of McCoy’s mind.  When the party decides to attack Mirror Spock, he fights all of them except for Uhura and McCoy, who he simply pushes out of harm’s way.

When Mirror Spock gets hurt as the crew is trying to escape back to their own universe, McCoy is suddenly unable to leave his side. Kirk allows him to stay to nurse Spock back to health, and McCoy risks almost staying in the Mirror Verse forever for him. When Mirror Spock awakes, he backs McCoy into a wall and initiates a forced mind meld onto the doctor. The next scene has Mirror Spock holding a disoriented McCoy up and bringing him back to his crew; he now understands what is happening and he wants his regular crew back, and thus he allows Kirk and company to make the switch back to their own universe.

Other Star Trek properties have gone more in depth on how a forced mind meld can be extremely traumatizing on the person receiving it. Star Trek: Enterprise has an entire story arc dedicated to the Vulcan T’Pol trying to heal from a forced mind meld. Unfortunately, because the nature of TOS episodes were episodic, we never got the chance to explore the emotional fallout of McCoy’s forced mind meld and how that might have affected his relationship with Spock. The franchise also never went in depth on Mirror McCoy outside of what Mirror Spock speaks of him, since Mirror McCoy died of xenopolycythemia in 2269.

Closing the list of evidence of Spock and McCoy’s affections towards each other are the Star Trek movies “The Wrath of Khan” and “The Search for Spock.” Towards the end of Wrath of Khan, Spock sacrifices himself to save The Enterprise in one of the franchises most heart-wrenching scenes. Moments before his sacrifice, he knocks McCoy unconscious, touches his face and whispers “remember.” What happened in this scene was that Spock, knowing he was about to die, transferred his Katra to McCoy. The katra being the Vulcan equivalent of a soul. This speaks to the amount of trust that Spock has in McCoy. For someone who keeps most of his emotions under a tight lid, it’s a huge gesture to entrust another with the essence of their entire being. The next movie, The Search for Spock, is a journey as the Enterprise crew fight to return to Vulcan so they can reunite Spock with his body. When they finally arrive, the Vulcans warn McCoy that the process is extremely dangerous and could even result in his death. McCoy calmly replies that he “chooses the danger.” He cannot fathom living his life without Spock.

McCoy: (Speaking to Spock) I'm going to tell you something that I... I never thought I'd hear myself say...But it seems I've missed you. I don't know if I could stand to lose you again.

So in conclusion, Spock and McCoy have a rich and complex relationship that is much more than simply just “they dislike each other because they bicker a lot.” Their bickering is more akin to that of an old married couple. There are plenty of examples not even included in this post of how deeply they care for each other. Despite their ideological differences, they balance each other out quite nicely. McCoy is finely attuned to Spock’s emotions, arguably better than anyone else on the ship. Spock in turn is protective and gentle with McCoy. Once you stop looking at their interactions solely on the surface level, you’ll be able to see the tenderness and years of love and friendship between them. This is why I think Spock/McCoy is one of the most underrated and misunderstood relationships of TOS. Don’t let the constant arguing fool you into believing these two dummies don’t adore each other.

Shout-out to Tempest for their extremely lengthy ship manifesto on Spones called “Spiced Peaches,” which goes even more in depth on why Spones is a great couple. Using their manifesto as a reference was key to remembering Spock/McCoy moments. Also shout-out to the site chakoteya for having full transcripts of TOS episodes, so I could easily find quotes for this. If you’ve come this far, thanks for reading!

#star trek #tos #leonard mccoy #spock #spones #this was... a lot

[wenellyb]

My journey in the MCU fandom on Tumblr: Sharing my thoughts on the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, racism in the MCU fandom and the best and the worse of the fandom

I wasn’t going to write this much but here I am… I don’t even know where I’m going with this but since The Falcon and the Winter Soldier just recently came out, I wanted to share some thoughts.

I joined Tumble because of a show I loved but most of you don’t know it “ Hit the Floor”

I stayed on Tumblr for two reasons only, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan.

Before the Captain America:Civil War premiere, a friend sent me the link to the Sebastian and Anthony ET interview, and I was hooked. In just one interview. I discovered Anthony Mackie. The guy was hilarious!!! I just couldn’t get enough and I knew I had to know more about him. How could he improvise so many funny lines on the spot? He was just amazing.

I had pretty much watched all the avengers movie but that was it. I was not involved in the fandom. So I knew Sam Wilson’s face, but I couldn’t even remember his name if my life depended on it. That’s how much the MCU treated him as a side character.

I was like how the f*ck don’t I know this guy?

His talent reminded me of Eddie Murphy, Jim Carrey or Robin Williams, like yes they can make some emotional or serious movies, but when they want to make you laugh, you will laugh. Whether you want it or not.  I kept wondering how this guy wasn’t more famous.

And the banter with Sebastian Stan? Wow, you could tell their friendship was strong, the way Sebastian lighted up when Anthony was talking, and keep bouncing off his jokes. It was art. the way Sebastian said “ I love you” at the end of the interview. Pure gold.

I then started to watch some of the interviews and boy was that a mistake!!! I literally couldn’t get enough. So I watched all and I say all their interviews, it was the best. We got some gems:

“Why aren’t you looking at me as much”

“Which way is the beach Seabass”

*Them saying nonsense in Spanish and then Sebastian Saying Papi Chulo*

 ¨And so many more, ....

I watched other solo Anthony interviews and he was still HILARIOUS, but you could also tell he felt a little bit more at ease with Sebastian around. I won’t pretend I know him or his personality, but Sebastian seems like a little bit more of an introvert and looks like he doesn’t enjoy the interview experience unless Anthony id around him. Just my thoughts

I watched the interviews before I went to see the movie, I even cosplayed as the Winter Soldier to the movie premiere and I was IN!!! When I saw Captain America Civil War, I became a SamBucky shipper, these two were hilarious and I really so the potential for a great realtionship I love enemy to lovers stories.

I also shipped Stucky because, to me, the trope of the movie was Superhero gives up everything to protect his long term friend” Hollywood movies have some codes and if Bucky were a female character, there is no doubt in my mind that the movie would have been marketed as romance.

Stucky really was an easy ship! But then the MCU fandom of Tumblr fandom messed up everything for me. You see I really liked the CACW and I I liked Stucky, I liked Sambucky, and I loved the introduction of t’Challa’s character, but one of things that affected me the most in the movie was that it was the first blockbuster I watched with 3 black main characters, Rhodey, Sam and T’Challa. That, and the fact that they were planning to realease a Black Panther movie in two years, I was super excited, and that’s the main reason I got involved in the MCU fandom so much, when before, I was just a casual watcher.

If this seem weird to you, then you have no idea how we were only getting crumbs before. For me it was soo huge, I even told all my friends, and they were laughing at me. But usually blockbusters, especially superhero movies get one black character and that’s it, usually the best friend or something and never the leads. So, for me it really was a big deal. How sad is that by the way…

I became more involved in the fandom and, at first, I wasn’t focusing on anything special, Sambucky, Stucky, Stackie, the Black Panther, and even Zemo, whose character I really liked.

But soon I noticed that the CACW tags were always flooded, and I mean flooded with the same two white characters: Steve and Bucky. I told myself, ok that’s fine Steve is the lead after all, but it would be good to see the other characters too.

And then I noticed another interesting trend: Evanstan…. Wait what?

Chris Evans, and Sebastian Stan… did I miss something? Listen, obviously I’m sure they must be friends or something, but you’re going to tell me you watch all MCU the actors and you’re going to focus on Steve and Sebastian? I’m sorry what?

Sebastian and Anthony are right there… Or Chris and Anthony, they even have a secret handshake, only the 2 of them do… what more do you want?

Tell me one iconic Evanstan moment… go ahead tell me… See??? There isn’t.

Because of this and because of how badly some Stuckies were treating Sam and Anthony. I became less and less of a stucky shipper . I mainly focused on SamBucky, Stackie and the Black Panther,

And then the Sebastian Stan stans saw how popular Stackie, Sambucky, were becoming and I started to see some problematic stuff in our fandom too.

I don’t want to generalize, but when you go into the Stackie tag, and you see cropped pictures of Sebastian without Anthony, it’s easy to assume that a Sebastian fan did that. And we know damn well you cropped out Anthony because we watched all Stackie interviews and know exactly which interview your picture was taken from. We know that Anthony was sitting right next to Seb.

You post a picture of Sebastian laughing but you crop out the person who was making him laugh??

“but it has nothing to do with race” How do you know that?

“Sebastian had more screen time” More screen time than Anthony in CATWS or CACW? I don’t think so.

“I have been a fan of Sebastian for longer”, that’s fine but don’t go out cropping Anthony, just post gifs of Seb in his usual, sad, and Anthony-less interviews, not the ones where he’s smiling because his best friend is next to him.

Some of you really are the worst. And just so you know, your fave Sebastian is Anthony’s biggest fan, if he saw pictures where you cropped out Anthony, he would block you on the spot.

When I realized that Anthony Mackie would be the next Captain America I was screaming, no actually, I was crying, Sam Wilson will be Captain America, and Anthony would finally get the recognition he deserves.

You would think that the MCU fandom would focus on Captain America or at least one the two leads, instead of just Sebastian? Right? Right? WRONG.

Anthony is handsome, he’s funny, he’s a great actor, he went to freaking Julliard, he’s at the top, I don’t see what else the man can do??? He should already be a superstar, but no, you will side-line him even to he is the lead of the show.

Even when they are the actual leads, you guys would do anything to bring up the White characters even if it means ignoring the Black characters.

I remember I was having a conversation about Black Panther with my friends and I asked one of my white friends who was his favorite character in BP was and he told me Martin Freeman (don’t even remember his name in the movie) Martin Freaking Freeman, there are half a dozen of great characters and your fave is the only white man??? Ok, ok, that’s great.

Don’t give out automatic reply like “It has nothing to do with race, if you haven’t thought about it first”, because there’s a high probability that it is indeed about race. Stop saying it isn’t, sit down and ask yourself, “Am I biased?” “Why am I reblogging only stuff related to the white characters”.

One of these days you guys are going to make me hate Sebastian with the sh*t you are pulling.

I looove the Stackie friendship and the Sambucky dynamic but after seeing the way some of you treat Anthony and Sam’s character, it make me want to focus on Sam’s character and forget about the rest.

 I remember they were some posts about how Anthony was problematic, and I just lost it. Apparently, there was an old article that resurfaced were Anthony was making a joke about women making sandwiches or something.

If you were offended by the sandwich joke, that is totally ok, and I can understand that.

But if you were offended by the sandwich joke, and saying Anthony is problematic BUT you still stan Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, ScarJo or even Sebastian Stan, just know that there is a high probability you’re racist.

They have all said or done problematic stuff, and people only seem to remember stuff related to Anthony, which was probably just a joke by the way.

Chris Evans and Jeremy called Black widow a wh*re, ScarJo took roles that she maybe shouldn’t have and I didn’t forget Sebastian shady Instagram post, when Kaepernick was kneeling. There are so many more things to be said about Jeremy Renner but google is your friend.

Anthony also got hate for hating on Tom Holland? Like what? Do you guys even hear yourselves? Don’t you have any friends you like to tease? If you hate someone, do you go around talking about him every chance you get? It was obviously friendly banter but some people wanted to turn it into something it was not. Sigh.

I really cannot with this fandom

 The stackie fandom was small at the beginning and the Sambucky fandom even smaller, but we were there and it was amazing. Sebastian and Anthony received the same amount of love from the fandom and I wish we could go back to those days.

Stop pretending the fandom isn’t racist. Stop saying “it isn’t about race” when you haven’t even thought about.

Saying “it has nothing to do with race” only shows that you haven’t thought about anything but don’t want to be called a racist.

There is racism in this fandom and it will always be there, but if you guys want to do anything about it, you have to acknowledge it first.

You can’t be pulling off stuff like “I don’t see colors”, “ it has nothing to do with race”. Stop, sit down, think about it and then we can have a conversation.

If you’ve made it till the end, I apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes, I wasn’t planning on writing this much.

#tfatws #anthony mackie #Sebastian Stan #stackie #sambucky #Chris Evans #captain america #CACW #fandom racism #I didn't mean to write this much #my posts

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

A distant memory - Loki

Loki Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Thor finds a letter Loki wrote to a woman called Y/n. He does not know this woman but the language used in the letter is loving and sweet, so Thor decides to ask about her. What he doesn’t know is that this woman has passed.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2110

My dearest Y/n,

Not a day passes without my mind, body, and soul yearning for your touch and pleasant conversation. Just yesterday I slept on your side of the bed in hopes of smelling traces of your perfume on the pillows. It did not help. Your books still hold your bookmarks on the places where you stopped. I must say, I admire your will to read every book that belongs to you but worry that you might never finish one. Just today, I found five different books that have your bookmarks. Yesterday, I found two. I have put them aside for you to make it easier to finish them. A fair maiden asked me for a dance last week at one of my father’s feasts but I had to refuse. No maiden could ever be as fair as you, even if you do step on my toes while we dance. It gives us more reason to keep practicing. My love for you grows every day and so does my longing. I fear you might be away for longer than I can take and I wonder if you would mind if I came over to see you for a day or two. Just the two of us.

Love,

Loki

‘Brother, who is this letter for?’ ‘What letter?’ Thor holds a letter that looks old and withered. It takes less than a second for Loki to realize what it is. He suddenly looks enraged. ‘Put it down,’ he snaps with venom laced in through his words. The sudden change in demeanor surprises and scares his brother. As careful as he can be, he puts the letter back on Loki’s desk. Loki rushes over and picks up the letter with the utmost care, gently putting it back in a drawer that he locks right away. ‘Who is Y/n?’ Loki sighs and leans against his desk. He looks tired when Thor looks at him again. It’s like a pain has been buried deep within him and has been eating at him for ages. ‘A hundred years or so ago, I went to Midgard to do some business for father. He send me to visit a pagan family that worshiped us to bless them. On the next farm over lived a young woman and when I went to the pagan family, they kept insulting her. I felt I could not justify giving our blessing if this maiden wasn’t the terrible person they said she was,’ Loki explains, ‘so I went over to her house to see for myself.’

Confidently, Loki strides over to the maiden’s house. Her garden is filled with flowers and herbs. From what Loki can tell, there are animals behind the house. This woman is sustaining herself but why? Why would a young maiden live so far removed from the fuss of the city? Especially since the family says she’s not married. Loki knocks on her door and hears fuss inside. It sounds like a dog barking at the door and a big one at that. He watches as a small latch in the door opens and a woman looks outside. He can only see her eyes but the eyes are the gates to the soul and her eyes are beautiful. They sparkle like the gems his mother wears, the reflection of water, or dewdrops on roses. ‘What is your business?’ ‘Forgive me for barging in miss. I have traveled long and far and need a place to rest my head. Would you allow me to sleep in your haystack or shed? Anywhere that’s dry.’ He hears the door unlock and out runs a big, black dog. He looks like he crawled from the debts of hell but his demeanor is friendly when his owner shows kindness. Loki doubts he acts the same if she is in trouble. ‘You make me sound cruel. Please come inside. I’ve got food to spare,’ she tells him with a friendly smile. Her door is wide open but Loki hesitates to step inside. He takes a good look at the maiden. As beautiful as she is, how is she capable of being this friendly. He can not imagine she has not been taken advantage of at least once. ‘You do not know me. Are you certain you want to show me kindness?’ ‘Why would I not? I have Bella to protect me if I need it and if I am frank, you look withered and weak. I doubt you’d be able to lay your hands on me,’ she tells him, ‘come inside. There’s a storm coming.’ Loki steps inside and follows her into the house. She offers him a chair at the table and gets him a plate as well as a drink. If this is a wicked woman, what is the family next door like? They show no kindness. Bella, the big dog, lays itself down under the table by her feet. She seems at ease as the maiden pets her a few times over the head. ‘So tell me, traveler, where are you going?’ ‘You don’t want to know where I’m from?’ ‘I doubt you’d want to talk about it if you’ve been traveling for long,’ she says, offering him a gentle smile, ‘besides, where you’re going tells more about you than where you’ve been.’ ‘I like your ideology miss. May I ask your name before I tell you?’ ‘Will you tell me yours if I tell you mine?’ ‘I fear you may want me out if I tell you.’ She nods, not pushing it any further. Loki feels like she wouldn’t mind who he is as she does not seem like a judgemental person but he wouldn’t want to run the risk. ‘My name is Y/n.’

Early in the morning, Loki awakes on the comfortable couch in Y/n’s living room with more blankets covering him than he went to sleep with. He is awoken by the wet, warm sensation of Bella licking his face. ‘Good morning Bella.’ He pets the dog a few times and gets up from his resting place. He hears Y/n call for Bella, who runs out excitedly. She must be outside, taking care of her animals. He dresses quickly and walks outside to see what she’s up to. He finds her sitting in the field, one of her cows laying beside her resting it’s head on her lap. She calls out commands to Bella to herd her sheep together and back to the pen. After the raging storm last night, she probably wants to see if they’re all alright. Loki walks towards her and sits down next to her in the grass. She nods to him, too busy to greet him. It’s only when all the sheep are in the pen that she fully acknowledges him. ‘Did you sleep well?’ ‘Yes, but the strangest thing happened,’ he tells her with a slight smirk on his lips, ‘I woke with three blankets while I’m sure I had only one when I went to sleep.’ ‘You looked cold.’ ‘You are a very kind host, miss Y/n.’ She smiles and looks out over the field. Bella comes running their way and sits down next to Loki. ‘She has taken a liking to you,’ Y/n notices, ‘she doesn’t like many people.’ ‘I feel honored.’ Loki pets the dog as he looks at Y/n. She looks beautiful in the morning light. Almost as beautiful as she had looked in the candlelight last night. ‘I feel like I have been untrue to you, miss,’ Loki tells her. ‘Why would that be? You are a traveler, are you not?’ ‘I am but not of the kind you know,’ he tells her, ‘you have been a wonderful host and I feel you deserve the truth.’ She chuckles. ‘You speak like this will change everything.’ ‘It might,’ he lets his head hang, ‘my name is Loki, god of mischief. I originally came here to bless the family next door for their devotion to us but they spoke ill of you. I felt I had to be certain you were a bad person if they were to deserve our blessing.’ ‘And what might your conclusion be, Loki god of Mischief?’ ‘They should deserve our blessing for their faithfulness and devotion to us but not for their treatment of others.’ She smiles. ‘I see.’ ‘May I ask why they talk of you this way?’ ‘I am an unmarried woman living alone on a farm. If I’m not being called a spinster, I’m being called a witch. It changes with the season. I’m used to it by now.’ She shrugs it off like it’s nothing but Loki feels a pit of rage in his stomach. A woman as lovely as her should be worshiped. He rips a piece of his golden armor off and puts it between his hands, forging a golden bracelet from it. ‘If you’ll allow me, I’d like to protect you,’ he says and shows her the simple, golden band. She looks hesitant and Loki understands. He’s the god of mischief. ‘Forgive my hesitation but I have been fending for myself for what feels like forever. It’s a kind gesture but I do not need it.’ He nods but gently takes her hand and puts it on. ‘Wear it,’ he tells her, ‘I will not protect you but I will watch over you. If you need company, just call out to me.’ She smiles again, putting her hand over his. ‘That is very kind, Loki.’

As summer progressed into fall, Y/n harvested her crops and made sure they’d survive winter. Her harvest wasn’t great but over time she noticed her supplies would not lessen, even if she took something. It would just reappear when she returned. Loki had visited her a few times during summer but when fall got colder, he stayed away. She feared she might’ve read his actions all wrong as she felt her feelings grow towards him. She thought he felt the same. When Winter thawed and the ground got softer, she called out to Loki in hopes to ask him about it. He did not appear and she feared he had forgotten about her. That is until- ‘Did you miss me?’ She couldn’t stop the smile appearing on her face if she tried. It’s like her feet work on their own as she runs over to him and throws her arms around him. ‘It’s so good to see you again. I feared you had forgotten me.’ ‘Forget the fairest maiden I have ever met? I could never,’ he tells her with a smile. His eyes linger on her lips for a second. ‘I stayed away in hopes your feeling would lessen.’ ‘My feelings? How did you know?’ ‘Darling, I am a god.’ ‘That’s fair, I should’ve known,’ she says with a grin, taking his hands, ‘but why?’ ‘I am not the best suitor and a maiden like you surely deserves better.’ ‘I do not want better.’ He frowns and looks down at her darling eyes. They still shine like gems and are filled with love. ‘My darling, I cannot marry you,’ he tells her, ‘I am prince, heir to the throne. They expect me to marry a goddess.’ ‘I understand.’ She smiles but he can tell she feels terrible. Her heart dropped and her smile faltered. It wasn’t hard to tell that his words hurt her. ‘I wish I could. I truly do,’ he promises her. ‘Then, don’t marry me but stay with me until you have to give yourself to another.’ ‘My darling, my mischief seems to have rubbed off on you,’ he speaks proudly, ‘yes. I will stay loyal to you until I must love another.’

‘But the villagers started a witch hunt and as a single, unmarried woman she was the first target,’ Loki tells his brother, ‘I could not protect her. Father would not let me.’ ‘You loved her, didn’t you?’ ‘I did but it’s in the past now. There’s no bringing her back.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘Don’t be. I was young and stupid. I fell in love with someone I couldn’t have.’ Thor nods and takes a deep breath. ‘Believe me or don’t but you deserve love, Loki. I hope you’ll find a woman like her.’ Loki lets out a breathy laugh. ‘There is no woman like her.’ Thor leaves Loki’s room. It takes Loki a second to come back to reality. His hand reaches for the drawer and unlocks it once again, taking out the golden band she had worn. He deserves love, yes, but he has already met the person he was supposed to be with and no one else will ever compare.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n

[in-superbloom]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

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