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#isn’t it like lent rn

444rockstargf · 2 months

Note

Can you do a !soft!dom Dan Cooper x !sub! fem! Reader where Dan is basically praising her and treating her right and stuff? I only saw one Danny fic where he’s a soft dom and I was addicted. I need this rn. Also ur writing is addicting.

aww this made my heart melt <3 and I havent written for danny since october lmao

"wrap you up in my daisy chains." | dan cooper

summer bummer. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @icarus-star @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @kashmirclam @yungbloodsuxca @oliviah-25 @livingdead-reilly @vanlisbon @auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @

sub!fem!reader x softdom!dan

word count: 1.3k

contents: fluff, soft dom danny, blowjob, praise, cum eating

“well isn’t this just the perfect thing to come home to?” dan stepped into the room, a few strands of hair plastered onto his forehead. you knew how demanding the food-delivering job could get, so you did your best to provide dan with a treat of his own when he arrived home. one that you knew would rot his mind until he could finally come back to you again.

a smile lit up his face as he tore off his tie, tossing it to the side as he kicked off his shoes and made his way to you. then he made his way over to where you were sat on the bed clad in a baby-pink nightgown that left little to the imagination. he picked you up, spinning you around and wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “there’s my angel…”

you wrapped your legs around his dainty waist, your hands finding his tight bun and pulling out the black hairtie you’d lent him, releasing his luscious brown waves. he lifted his lips to yours and gave you a deep kiss, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you on his lap.

you cradled his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing over the light dusting of stubble on his jaw. you pulled away, taking in the appearance of his tense muscles and tired eyes. you pouted a little. “hard day..?” you asked softly. he sighed. “you know it.” he placed his hands on your hips. “but you know exactly how to make a guy feel better, hm?” you giggled, nodding at the subtle praise in his words.

you noticed a slight change of atmosphere as his gaze turned to one of lust instead of innocent affection. the corner of his lip went up in a grin. “you really put this together for me? god, i’m the luckiest man in the world.” you kissed him on the top of the head as his thumbs peaked underneath the thin fabric.

he lifted you up a little before putting you in a much better position. one where you were sprawled across his knee, your ass in the air to give him a perfect view of what he had been missing all day. the nightgown slid up your ass as his soft, warm hand kneaded the flesh gently, sweet words spilling from his lips. “you look beautiful, doll…”

you felt your cheeks heating up and a bulge pressing against your stomach. he was hard already. no matter what you did, you always had a way of turning his libido on like a switch. he used a hand to gently turn your face so you were looking at him, using his finger to gently toy with your lips. “i’ve missed this pretty face…”

your face lit up from the accolade as he slipped his thumbs between your lips, making you suck on it as his other hand began to play with you through your panties. you already felt your body beginning to tremble from the desire, his hard cock pressing against your gut in such a teasing way not making things better in the slightest.

you squeezed your legs together in a desperate attempt for more pleasure. “i’m guessing my sweet girl missed me too.” he cooed, shifting back onto the bed so that he was leaning against the headboard. he looked at you through deeply smitten eyes. “why don’t you help me get out of all this?”

he had a hand resting on his boner, wanting you to pick up on what he was saying. you crawled backward until you were laying on your stomach, face to face with the protruding mass in his pants. you fiddled with the zipper, not doing much before his cock sprang out, hitting you on the nose. he laughed softly, patting your cheek apologetically.

his tip was already glazed with precum, veins bulging as his cock seemed to beg you for pleasure. you swallowed hard, looking up at him with your amorous eyes and meeting his pleased stare.

you took a deep breath, the air hitting his tip and making his breath hitch. then you went for it, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking the first few inches down your throat with ease. he gasped, his hand finding the back of your head and gripping a handful of your hair. you gagged your throat contracting around his pulsating muscle.

he spoke, his voice slightly shaky. “easy there, angel.” you nodded, taking that last chunk of it with a deep gulp. a shiver ran down his spine as he entered the warmth of your throat, feeling the flutter of your uvula hitting his tip.

you slowly bobbed your head on his length, looking him right in the eye as you searched for any sign of approval. but he was already in wonderland, lips parted and eyes shut as blood began to flow to the most primal part of him. unintentionally, his hand tightened around your hair as he grabbed it with more force than intended.

“j-just like that, doll…” you licked up his girth, using your hand to fondle his balls and the base of his dick while your mouth took care of the tip. a method that you’d found worked with him the best. he gulped, a bead of sweat running down his forehead as he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth, your throat beginning to bruise.

“god… you’re so perfect. so, so good for me…” his hand gripped your jaw, making you swallow the whole thing at once. tears pricked your eyes and your mouth watered, bubbles of spit running down his cock.

dan swallowed a groan, forcing himself to keep his composure as he looked right into your eyes. the irony of it all was that you never looked more innocent than when his dick was down your throat. you placed your hands on his thighs as he fucked your throat, the intoxicating sound of your lewd gagging and gurgling filling the room.

you reached a hand back, slipping your panties to the side and letting out your dripping wet cunt. you rubbed sloppy circles on your hard clit, slipping your fingers in and moaning around his manhood. he chuckled softly, using all his strength to muster up his words. “you’re gonna make such a mess of me, sweetheart.”

you pumped your fingers in and out of yourself, your busted up pussy greedily swallowing them whole. dan had full control of you, both his hands forcing your head down all the way as a deep groan emerged from his gut. his hot cum felt like lava pouring down your esophagus, travelling all the way down to your intestines.

he came in loads that were surely enough to fill buckets and then some. but you swallowed every last drop, not letting any go to waste. you pulled your head off, strings of cum connecting you to his tip as you coughed up bubbles of his seed. he patted your back, realizing that he got carried away. as usual.

“i-im so sorry, baby. you know how i get when it comes to you.” you managed to choke out a laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes and letting him pull you back onto his lap. you took a hold of his softening cock, tucking it back into his pants and giving it a little pat. he laughed a little at your simple sign of affection, pulling your into another kiss, tasting the remainder of himself in your mouth.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder as he stroked your back. “my sweet angel,” he whispered, “you’re absolutely heavenly. and you always know how to cheer me up, dont you?” he gives you a small peck on the nose, making you smile. “i love you more than life itself, my love.” he said quietly.

and as you swallowed the last little bit of his cum, you knew he meant it.

author's note: this fic is longgg overdue, but I have more coming. thank you all for the requests!

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #dom thoughts #praise #dom/sub #dan cooper #danny cooper #intruders #intruders 2015 #lust for life #summer bummer #lana del rey

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sunookkii · 3 years

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Soooo👀can I get enhypen reaction to their best friend/crush cuddling them for the first time while they're hanging out together?

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.enhypen imagine ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚

a/n : tysm for requestingggg baee <333 I hope you like it!

Enhypen reacting to their bestfriend/crush cuddling them >~< [drabble]

Enhypen ot7 x Reader

Genre : fluff

Warnings : flustered enha

Requested : yees

Heeseung

You two were just hanging out like usual since you guys are really close friends and known eachother for a long long time~ Heeseung had the BIGGEST crush on you every since you two met, but he never had the guts to confess to you so he just kept you as a friend because he didn’t want to ruin the relationship you two already have <3 one day at a hangout together, it became really late outside so you asked him if he wanted to sleep over [u too had a crush on hee 😏], he obviously checked if you were okay with it before accepting~ you guys were just getting ready for bed and he became flustered because you slept so easily comfortably next to him accidentally wrapping your arms around his chest cuddling him. His face is all red, he’s all stiff and can’t take the risk to move, or push you off. He could feel you breathing on him since your head was on his chest.. He adapted to this quickly even though this was all new to him. You two hugged a lot before but this time it was just.. different, it meant more to him since you guys are literally SLEEPING together so this is very much still new to him~ it makes him so happy, that you feel this comfortable around him. He won’t be able to stop smiling to himself from you hugging him to sleep, tbh he might not even be able to sleep because you’re running around his mind all night it makes him crush on you even more because of how cute you look sleeping and cuddling him.

Jay

You two have been very good friends for a long time to the point you guys can talk about anything and everything, he slowly developed feelings for you but I feel like when it comes to cuddling and hugging it’s a bit awkward.. one day you guys were just sitting down together side by side really close together [on the floor specifically] and you seemed to have a really bad day and your best friends was there with you so you just wanted to hug him for comfort. You go in for a hug which ends up as a cuddle and he’s really surprised that his crush/best friend just cuddled him??!! Would definitely return the hug, at first it was a bit awkward but couple of seconds later he rests his head on yours and he hugs you tighter with a smile painted on his face. Let’s just say you guys aren’t awkward anymore when hugging and he loves that he could hug you whenever he wants~ definitely becomes red every single time he gets to hug you, pretends to be cool and chill when cuddling you but in the inside he’s defiantly a mess. A cute mess ㅠㅠ

Jake

Jake is the type of best friend that would give you so many hugs and cuddles because he loves you that much, so hugs and cuddles with him isn’t so new. But since you are his crush specifically it’s a bit different with you. He loves hugging you and never misses his chance to do so. Today you guys had a hangout at your place and you two were just lying on your bed [your head was placed on his chest like a pillow] scrolling through your phones on a social media app showing each other funny posts you saw. You quickly got bored and just turned around facing him making your head at home on his chest and wrapped your arms around him. Leading him to be cuddled STOP I CANT DO THIS RN He became flustered and tbh he’s clueless and doesn’t know what to do. You guys hug all the time but how come he’s so awkward all of a sudden? He makes sure not to look you in your eye because if he does he’s going to become a smiling red mess. He’s already blushing and smiling but if he looks at your pretty eyes for one second he might or might not actually go crazy,,, probably giggling a lot leading you to think he’s crazy. This man fell for you and he fell for you BAD.. will definitely ask for more cuddles and dreams about the day where you two start dating, #hopelessromantic

Sunghoon

Kinda cliché but you guys were at the skating rink 😁 but you know because sunghoon is an ice prince he has to practice many times in a week and he barely gets to see you so instead you guys made an arrangement that after school you would go to the skating rink with him whether it would be watching him skate or learning how to skate with him~ today you were skating with him.. you fell down a lot but this time when you fell down he automatically caught you because obviously he doesn’t want you to fall so might as well try and catch you duh. #sucess. He caught you and you were now in you arms in a hugging position, it was a bit awkward at first since he had a crush on you, but to his luck you had a crush on him too [but he doesn’t know] you guys finished ice skating and hung out on the bleachers and you rested your head on his shoulders unintentionally but intentionally y’know? He flinches a bit and his eyes go WIDE! Doesn’t really know what to do, pats your head? Hug you back?? Literally clueless boy T_T then you tell him “thank you for catching me hoon” STOP HE’S LITERALLY FREAKING OUT IN THE INSIDE WITH JOY CUTIEEE (sry this wasn’t really a cuddle session but I thought it was cute ㅠㅠ)

Sunoo

It was a sleepover as always, this cutie loves sleeping over at your house since you can’t sleep over at his. Today you guys were doing face masks as a daily night care routine. You two took lots and lots of selcas together and laughed over the funny pics dying of laughter. Minutes past by and it was time to take off the mask he helped you take off yours and you helped take of his, your height difference was cute since you had to get on your tippy toes to actually reach his face :( cute. That’s all he thought... ‘cute’. Tbh I feel like he’s the type to say it out loud then you’d tease him, “ur in love with me just say it” he’d become SUPER SUPER flustered idek know how to describe it. You two finished taking off the face masks and doing your skin care routine. Since sunoo always lent you his expensive fancy skin care things you never really properly thanked him so you decided to give him a cuddling session right after washing your face, bringing your head in his chest. At first he’d be nervous but then he’d definitely return the hug and pat your head and give you a biggest smile. He loves you so much and might even say it. Thinks your the most adorable person in the world and definitely would want you to know that. Probably squishes your cheeks too and out of all the members I feel like he’d act like you two are actually already dating ㅠㅠ would definitely ask for more cuddles after this and it’ll become a daily thing~

Jungwon

After a long day, you and Jungwon walked together side by side late at night to the convenience store to get some ramen because you guys haven’t eaten for hours and you were starving. Eating with you was always nice and comforting Jungwon thought, just being with you overall was always a good time. Staring at you when you weren’t looking.. when you two finished eating you went to his house for a bit just to ‘hang out’, to him he always thought of you as more than friends, so I guess you could say that he thought of you as a crush [you on the other hand also has a crush on him ;)] lying down on his comfy bed you pull him over to cuddle him, at first he was freaking our and asked you what you were doing, and you said “hugging u” as if it was ntg💀 of course he’d let you continue hugging him, but now this is going to make him go crazy. hes never going to stop thinking about this moment and he’s never going to stop talking about this moment with his members- I think you might’ve broke him idk...

Niki

You guys were dancing for hours on end, you loved dancing with him and he definitely loved dancing with you. You two always had a crush on eachother but none of you guys confessed [but that’s for next time ;)] after you guys just finished dancing to the new groups song called Enhypen‘s drunk-dazed you two were literally sweating buckets,, you guys nearly fainted on how hard and intense the song was. You two dropped to the floor lying on your backs till suddenly you decide to hug riki ~ “uhm uhm y/n what r u doing?” I feel like that’s what he would say since all this is so new to him and his crush is literally on his chest cuddling him???!!! “Am I dreaming” he thinks to himself. I feel like his face would start burning not only bc of the intense dance you two just finished but bc his literal best friend/crush is on his fricking chest, please this cutie can’t contain his excitement~ you’d probably look at him and be likeRiki are you okay ur face is burning”, “N-NO IT WAS THE DANCE!” you’d literally check his temperature right here right now which leads to you two staring at eachother while cuddling????? OMGG #newffidea 🤩 but yeah he’d be like a tomato a giggly tomato 🍅 <3 ^^someone please write a niki oneshot like this

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest 💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now.

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in.

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers.

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it.

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.”

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then a thud.

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

---

Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

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2-cute-4-school · 3 years

Text

𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴/𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦

requested by the national cutie pie @heartyyjeno

Mark Lee

he can be a bit oblivious sometimes bless his soul꒰๑˃͈꒵˂͈๑꒱୭

so he’s kinda clueless as why tf you’re so pouty

has he said anything stupid earlier? forgotten any important date?? or... even worse

ARE YOU ON YOUR PERIOD?? (ｼ;ﾟДﾟ)ｼ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵖᵉʳᶦᵒᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵐʸ ᵐᶦⁿᵈ ˢᵒʳʳʸ

he’s too nervous to even prod at you rn

especially after a trainee who just happens to be wearing his hoodie passes by and you-

did you just growl?!?? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

but you’re his baby and you’re just SO deflated and he HATES seeing you anything but happy and lively so he just can’t stand by and watch you so upset cuz his lil heart hurts too (๑◕︵◕๑)

“babe, are you uh alright?”

“yeah, just a little bit cold” *trying to subtly hint him*

“oh! that’s not good, you should have dressed warmer, should i go ask manager-hyung to turn up the heating in the practice room??”

‘maybe i should just set your ass on fire to warm up’ (►˛◄’!)

“or do you maybe want my hoodie?? it should be enough so you won’t be cold anymore, where did i... ohhhhh”

*light bulb turning on above his head* (〇o〇；)

“it’s fine mark, it’s not like you love me anyway it’s fine i should have seen this coming” *loud fake sobbing in your hands* *mark panic*

“no no baby come on-”

“let’s just get the divorce papers, mark lee!!!!”

“but we’re not married-” *sobbing intensifies* “i’m sorry, I’M SORRY!!! i didn’t mean to!! here, just a second!!” (´⊙ω⊙`)！

this specimen just took off his shirt and draped it over you in the middle of the practice room

“mark, wtf are you doing?!?? i was only kidding!!”

“how was i supposed to know, what if you were seriously upset-”

“hyung, can you help-” *chenle slams door closed* *dolphin screams* “you’re paying for my eyeball removal surgery, you nasties!!”

“chenle NO”

Huang Renjun

my man here catches on pretty quickly what your pout is about

you didn’t make it exactly hard to notice either (；¬д¬)

“y/n, want some ice cream?”

“no, i’m cold, you can shove it up yo ass and share with dear [redacted]”

jesus i wonder why your s/o is mad renjun

he’s not sure how to approach the situation at first, worried that he might get a tube of ice shoved somewhere he wouldn’t want it to ゞ◎Д◎ヾ

he decides to just be himself read as blunt

“baby come oooon, i can ask them to give it back”

“no, then i’ll seem like a possessive bitch” (Θ︹Θ)ს

“don’t call yourself that!! but then should i just run back to the dorms and get another hoodie?”

“no, i missed you this week, i don’t want you to leave”

“then you can just come with me?” (≖^≖๑ )ﾌ

“but i’m too lazy to get up” same reader same

renjun : ఠ ͟ಠ then wth DO YOU WANT ?!!!?!!

your soul renjun

he’s a bit lost and you’re kinda under the weather too and he HATES it because you’re his kitten and he CAN’T and WON’T allow you to feel anyhting but like absolute royalty with him ೕ(⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́ฅ)

so he just drapes himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around you, caging you in a warm embrace and nuzzling his cheek into yours

“who needs a hoodie when they’ve got a junnie??!?!” (˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ๑)

how could anyone stay mad when a cutie like renjun just curls himself around you and pulls you flush against himself, wrapping his limbs around you and peppering kisses everywhere in reach

you’re basically purring in content at this how could you not 」(￣▽￣」)

depending on how tired the both of you are, you might qualify for a good ol’ nap cuddled up against renjun

but don’t let this fool you

you AIN’T gona catch him making the same mistake again

he’s asking you first about absolutely anything

“no renjun, i don’t need the last of your toilet paper, why do you even- you know what, don’t answer that, just go take a shit in peace” Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

Lee Jeno

we all know jeno is too much of a sweetheart to say ‘no’ (๑′ᴗ‵๑)

he might be freezing himself and he’d still give his hoodie away to the first person who asks learn how to say NO kids

so now you’re both freezing and on top of everything you’re upset too

that’s a DOUBLE KILL for sweet babie jeno (๑◕︵◕๑)

“babe i’m sorry how was i supposed to know you don’t like them??”

“it’s not even that, jeno, you’re literally shivering!! why would you give it if you’re cold too?”

and that’s when jeno’s bf sathelit sprung into action

“wait... ‘too’?? are you cold, my baby??!??!?” (ʘᗩʘ’)

“no, wait, i mean yes, but that’s not-”

“i’ll be back in a second” he isn’t even kidding

he comes back with a blanket AND heating pads (that he doesn’t miss a second to clutch to your cheeks and then coo at your fish face)

“where did you get these from?” *suspicious*

he tells you he borrowed stole them from hyuck by politely asking for them threatening with a flex of his arm while eye smiling the entire time hyuck stood no chance ( ⚆ ᴗ ⚆ ) *nervous chuckle*

but jeno allows you no debating time before he wraps you in the blanket like a lil cutie patootie WARM burrito and leaves a *smooch* to your forehead ( ˘ ³˘)♥

you can spend an eternity arguing with him that you should take turns since he’s cold too, he isn’t taking ANY OF IT

his bubs isn’t allowed to be cold and he wants you to forget about who he lent his hoodie to too

the only way you can get him to relent is refusing to stay cocooned in it

“y/n, wear it or you’ll catch a cold!!” ( •̀ω•́ )σ

“sorry to burst your bubble, but you can and will catch a cold too!!”

that’s how you found yourself sandwiched between jeno’s arms, suffocating from both his bodt warmth and the blanket enveloping THE BOTH of you

best sauna would 110% recommend ୧( ⁼̴̶̤̀ω⁼̴̶̤́ )૭

Lee Donghyuck

my man here knows EXACTLY what he’s doing once *that person* asks him for his hoodie with a flirty smile

he lends it over with that shit eating grin but not without watching from the corner of his eye as you deflated like a loney baloney ( ◞᷄દ◟᷅ )

pretends to not notice your pout and lack of answers to his remarks

“y/n, wanna order chinese tonight?”

sweet, but not on my watch asshole *silence* (˵¯͒⌢͗¯͒˵)

“i’ll take that as a yes, i’ve been craving some seaweed soup”

*eye twitch*

‘fine u lil booger two can play at this game’ (•̀o•́)ง

you leave the room and return... wrapped up in MARK’S sweater and plop down back next to hyuck proudly (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)

he tenses up and turns to you

“y/n” ooooh damn you’re in deep shit

*you bat your eyelashes innocently* “yes my dear?”

“you stink, can you move further away?”

you... did not... JUST HEAR THAT??!?!!? (ﾉꐦ ⊙曲ఠ)ﾉ彡┻━┻

but you get up and walk with your tail between your legs to the other side of the room and curl up in a ball of failure

you both do your own things insilence until-

*sniffle* *hiccup* *SNIFFLE*

“y/n?” *silence*”baby??” *hiccup*

oh no oh no NO NO, hyuck’s baby ain’t crying on his watch (╯’□’)╯

he DASHES to your side and envelops you in his arms while cooing apologies and sweet nothings in your ear

“come on baby, you know i didn’t mean it, i just want your attention and your attention only and i only meant that mark’s hoodie stinks, never you, you’re my baby, you can’t-” ヾ( •́д•̀ ;)ﾉ

and then your shoulders start shaking and hyuck starts to actually worry until your sobs turn into... giggles?? hold up, WHAT??

he turns you around just to see you in a fit of giggles, the only tears present are the ones building up in your eyes from laughter

“oh you think you’re smart, don’t you??” (⁎⁍̴̀﹃ ⁍̴́⁎)♡

ATTACC OF TICKLES FOR YOU

Na Jaemin

another sweetheart tbh who wouldnt be able to refuse out of courtesy

but he just KNOWS he fcked up the moment you turn away when he leans in to kiss you (︶︹︺) ╯ ( ് દ ് )

but he ain’t giving up so easily

no matter how upset you are, depriving him of his dose of kisses? federal crime!!!! CRUELTY!!!!!!! ╰[ ಠ Ĺ̯ಠ]╯

so he keeps on pushing his affections on you

a clutching back hug, a rushed kiss wherever he is able to land it considering your struggle to avoid him, a nuzzle against your cheek, a pinch to your cheeks, a failed attempt to lockyour hands together

my man here tries not to show disappointment whenever you succesfully escape his ♡ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 ♡

jaemin, grumbling: “you and jisungie, a couple of hooligans, i’ll leave you on the welcome mat tonight for this” (҂⌣̀_⌣́) he won’t he loves you too much, he can’t fall asleep if he’s not 110% sure you’re well fed and happy

but he still babies you to no end

“come on my baby, what should i do so you forgive me hm?”( *¯ ³¯*)♡

you, an entire baby: *huff* “so now you care huh? go ask or no, go TAKE CARE of [redacted]”

jaemin’s last braincell performing swan lake on thin ice male version 2020 be like ₍₍ ◝( ･’ω’･ )◟ ⁾⁾

so he sighs and leaves the room

so NOW you’re worrying that mayyyybe you pushed him a bit too far

but before you even get the chance to walk down the hallway in your mighty search for your boyfriend, everything suddenly goes black

no you didn’t pass out or did you

jaemin just creeped up on you and ENGULFED you in a blanket hug for which he DEFINITELY didn’t run a marathon to buy༼つ ் ▽ ் ༽つ

when you finally manage to worm your head out of the fluffy cocoon he engulfed you in, your words were still muffled

“nana?? how did you even-???”

he just hugs you tighter and cuts off your questions

“shhh, all that matters is that you are ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE and i am maybe perhaps forgiven??” ◕ ‿ ◕

how could you ever refuse this precious soul

Zhong Chenle

so i can see one(1) scenario in which he would lend his hoodie to someone he SPECIFICALLY knows you don’t fancy

if you had a let’s say disagreement before and we all know he can be PETTY big time sooo basically he’d do it just to spite you ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

and the lil shiz looks SO PROUD of himself

but you’re not letting the brat win we ain’t no losers _へ__(‾◡◝ )>

so you just creep up behind him and stick your glacier hands up his shirt and rest them on his warm back

when i’m telling you he broke the record for the highest jump and most likely shattered any windows in the vicinity ༻(〃ຶ⌂〃ຶ)

“y/n!!!! keep your ice cubes to yourself!!”

“but i’m cold”

“your cold, your problem”

“watch me say the same thing when jaemin’s chasing you around with a wooden ruler” （；¬＿¬)

things settle down after that

or so he thought!!!!! (งಠل͜ಠ)ง never let your guard down lele sigh

another sneak attack to make sure chenle gets a SOUR taste of absolutely pure pettiness so he gets sick of it himself lol

this time a bitch ain’t joking

you shove your entire head under his shirt and then slither yourself so the top of your head pops out of chenle’s shirt collar let’s hope chenle made the wise choice of wearing a loose shirt so you both won’t suffocate

so you just blink up at him like (◕ᴥ◕)

and chenle is shrieking the entire time sigh

and while you’re too cute for him, its not exactly comfortable for either of you so he pats your head and begs asks you to get out of his shirt(?)

“am i getting your hoodie then?”

“i can’t just barge in and ask for it back”

“alright them i’m suffocating you FUN” (╯✧∇✧)╯

“i’m buying you an entire store of hoodies, JUST GET.OUT!!!”(;≧皿≦）

you have to restrain him for actually going on a shopping spree cuz he LOVES spoiling you but he pays in cuddles while you’re snuggling in your favourite hoodie of his

Park Jisung

confused babie /(@ﾟﾍﾟ@) a mood

he probably lent his hoodie cause he was too shy to refuse and didn’t even know you don’t like the person he gave it to

and then he’s clueless when you’re pouty ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

jisung: “do you want some water??”

you: *grumbling visibly upset* ( ｰ̀εｰ́ )

jisung, at a safe distance away from you, scratching his head, rethinking life choices: “...okay, maybe not. how about choco milk?”

he keeps an eye on you but other than that he’s LOST lol

that’s when the ✨𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓼✨ kick in

emergency contact momma jaemin is the first person jisung calls once he escaped to the ‘bathroom’

“jisung, you know i love you, BUT ARE YOU DUMB?? HOW COULD YOU- blahblahblah” my man is listening to an entire rant about how to treat your partner well 101 (۶* ‘ꆚ’)۶”

now that he knows the theory, he needs the practice

but you might already worry that he fell in the toilet with how long he’s been gone for god forbid you fall into that dark void

so he calls chenle

“chenle, i’m treating you to hotpot if you bring me a blanket or hoodie in less than 5 minutes”

“add in some steak and it’s a deal” ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

“i’m so selling your soul for a piece of gum, FINE!! just be quick!!”

THIS BOI RIGHT HERE!! A TREASURE!!!! he would step on his honour just to make sure his bubs is hapyy ˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰

so after he excuses himself again to retrieve the blanket from chenle

he BURRITO WRAPS you in it and then sits down next to your confused but undeniably happy form and pats your head nervously while he rambles you’re still his most sought after for of comfort no matter what

“i’m sorry for being a bad boyfriend, i should have realized you’d be cold too and that i should always put you first and i-”

you cut him off with a chaste kiss to his cheek which definetely doesn’t leave him speechless and tomato red in the cheeks (๑♡⌓♡๑)

“it’s okay, i was just being dramatic, you should always put yourself first tho, okay baby??”

baby is malfunctioning but he still nods mindlessly and kisses your cheek back ( ᵅั ᴈ ᵅั;)

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goldenkirstein · 3 years

Text

somewhere only we know

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

chapter one: somewhere only we know

pairing: eventual jean x gn! reader, as of rn, mikasa ackerman x gn! platonic! reader

wc: 1192

tags: angst, MAJOR AOT CH 139 SPOILERS, major character death mention, mentions of death, mentions of violence. Reader is eldian, but no mention of physical attributes.

a/n: With the end of aot, I needed to write something to cope, this is not fluffy ahhh, but I wrote this while I was crying to this playlist by @alert-arlert (ty for the 10/10 playlist heh). This isn't exactly romance buttttt I don't think I'm done writing this tbh and want to explore that with any upcoming parts. This is also like my second piece of writing for anime and my first time writing something of this sorts lmao, any criticism or advice is appreciated.

next.

series masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You brushed the hair out of her face.

The past three years had not been easy ones. Not for anyone. The years had been especially unkind towards Mikasa Ackerman.

She stirred in her sleep. You always felt terrible disturbing her; she always looked so peaceful when she was asleep, crimson scarf wrapped around her, chest rising and falling. The withered and whorled bark of the ancient tree hardly being a comfortable resting for the young woman, and yet, the tranquil expression on her face could convince any wandering traveller that the tree was a worthy place to lay one’s worries to rest.

“Mikasa, it’s getting late. We should head back.” For almost every week, for the past three years, you would accompany the young Ackerman to visit the grave of her most beloved. On some days, you would sit with her, reminiscing of days long gone; on other days, the both of you would sit in silence, looking upon the vast fields, the view which once was obstructed by the imposing walls; a grim reminder of the events that transpired years prior. Occasionally, you would watch Mikasa from a distance, allowing her to spend time with her memories of Eren.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Mikasa stretched, looking towards the sky. You lent her a hand as she slowly got up. Giving you a tender smile, the young woman thanked you. The both of you began making your way down the hill, one of her hands clutching yours, the other grasping the wilted flowers she gathered from Eren’s resting spot.

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “They’re all coming tomorrow. It’s been a while. Wonder if they all look the same.” You glanced down at your feet, the feeling of uncertainty rising in your chest.

The young woman smiled at your actions, “It has, though I’m sure they haven’t changed any more than we have. Knowing them, they would always stick out like sore thumbs, no matter where.”

You let out a faint chuckle, taking a deep breath in as both you and Mikasa approached the small lodgings in the distance. What she had said was true. It was inevitable that all of you would have changed. Turning your head, you observed the Ackerman; she had grown out her hair; the once blunt ends now neatly sat gathered over her shoulder. Mikasa had endured, more than most would have. You understood that. Eren’s actions weighed heavily on you as well, mentally and physically. Oftentimes, you would catch yourself looking at your reflection of a store window, confused as to who you were seeing. A weathered soldier? A traitor to their nation? An Eldian? A devil?

Maybe, Armin had grown his hair out again, like when you all were in the training corps. Were he and Annie together? Connie still hadn’t visited his mother, had he? Did Jean ever shave that excuse of a beard? Your eyebrows scrunched together, questions forming and disappearing in your head. You shook your head, smiling at the thought of your comrades, no, your dear friends, the ambassadors of peace. Did they manage to find a way to curb the threat of war?

Mikasa reached for the handle on the worn door, turning it and stepping inside to the cottage; she closed the door after you came inside and made her way to the washroom.

“It was a long day. I’m going to take a bath. Do you mind making some tea in the meantime?” You gave her a nod and turned to shrug off your cardigan, setting it on the small table by the house’s entrance. You tossed your head back, eyes landing on the grainy mahogany ceiling, your eyelids fluttered shut, and you heard the washroom door close, the sound of water filling the tub following shortly. Opening your eyes slowly, you lowered your head. Walking over to the kitchen, you filled a kettle with water, setting it up on the stove. Leaning back on the kitchen counter, you allowed your eyes to close once more.

You had come back to Paradis with Mikasa on that day.

It was sort of a haze for everyone mostly, the feeling that they had woken up from a long dream. You had thought it was the end of the line for you and your comrades, death inevitable as you were all turned into pure titans in a flash.

You remember seeing her emerge from the smoke clutching Eren's head in her arms, holding him close to her heart. The sight of his decapitated head contrasting the memory of him from just moments prior. He had been sitting with you, explaining why he did what he did, apologizing, sharing his regrets and saying his final goodbye.

Was this death? No, it couldn’t have been. Mikasa was there; she wasn’t dead, was she?

“I should go. If I stayed, Eren...He wouldn’t get a proper burial; they wouldn’t give him one.” Mikasa had come and sat next to you, whispering a goodbye before getting up to leave.

You jerked your head back, scrambling to stand up, stance wobbling, “Mikasa, wait! Where are you going?” She faltered in her step, turning around to face you once more; seeing Eren like this was still a harrowing sight.

“Paradis. It’s useless for me to keep fighting. I’m taking him home.”

“You can’t go by yourself! The Yeagerists would string you up in the square for doing what you did!” Eren Yeager was dead. Mikasa Ackerman had killed him. The Yeagerists would never let her live if they knew that. “I’m coming with you! I won’t- I can’t, lose any more people to this.”

Mikasa’s shoulder’s dropped, giving you a steely-eyed expression. “No. You will stay here with Armin, and he’s taking the blame for Eren. You can work out a plan with him and the others to save humanity.” Armin and the others? Were they alive?

Pivoting around, you saw the hoard of Eldians embracing one another in the distance. A gasp left your lips; you turned to face Mikasa, glassy-eyed, your chest heaving, overcome with relief.

“I’ll be fine. I played my part in this story; I want to go home. Please.” As much as you wanted to run and find Armin, Connie and Jean among the rest, you would never forgive yourself if you left her behind to play diplomat, as she suffered in silence with no one there to comfort her.

You stepped up to her, “Mikasa, I’ve always been by your side, haven’t I? You’re my family as I’m yours, and what kind of person would I be if I abandoned you now? Armin will be fine. He is plenty capable, and besides, who would take care of you?” She opened her mouth to object. You gave her arm a gentle squeeze. She averted her gaze, and she shut her mouth, opting for a curt nod.

And with that, you and the Ackerman girl made your way back to where it all began, your home. Paradis. You turned your head around one last time to watch those closest to you disappear from your sight.

a/n: I hope this was okay, if you liked this story and would like more parts please let me know !! as well as if you wanna see some other relationships blossom with the reader...jean is coming soon tho so yeah

Leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed reading this. I would appreciate it a lot <33

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

To Fluster Or Not To Fluster? That Is The Question

Muriel x M!Apprentice

Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author’s Note: Since apparently half the Arcana fandom is losing their goddamn minds rn, how about we take a moment to chill and read a funny fic? Yeah? Enjoy! -Thorne

He was a terrible person. He was an absolutely terrible person and was probably going down in history as the most terrible person to ever have lived. Well, besides Lucio that is. Of course, the level of terribleness between him and Lucio was about the size of an ocean—Lucio was a selfish prick, and while he couldn’t say that sometimes he wasn’t one, he was usually just a jackass. All things considered, he was still going down in history as a terrible person solely because at every chance he got, he flustered Muriel however he could. He couldn’t help it—it was just too easy.

***

Muriel was content to let (Y/N) do the talking and greeting. While he’d certainly gotten somewhat used to being in public and a bit more comfortable around people he didn’t know, he was still reserved in his words. That being said, it didn’t bother (Y/N) to talk for him; it gave him a pride to know that Muriel trusted him enough to do so.

He passed the merchant a few coins then turned to the man beside him and smiled. “Anything else you want Muriel?” Another thing (Y/N) was proud of—Muriel had finally gotten used to asking for things, wanting things, most importantly, knowing that he deserved them all.

“I need a new pair of gloves,” Muriel murmured, digging around in his pocket to reveal a pair of worn, but well-loved gloves.

(Y/N) nodded and took his hand, tugging him around to one of the stalls in the marketplace that was selling a collection of assorted garments. He craned his neck looking for the stall keeper, but none was around, then he caught sight of a little sign on the top of the stall. Be right back!

“Stall keep isn’t here Muriel, but I don’t think they’ll mind if we look around.” (Y/N) looked at him and then tipped his head to the stall. “See any you like so far?”

He watched as Muriel stepped up, silently gazing at the selection. He reached over, and neatly shifted them around until he found a pair, a dark forest green with golden embroidery on the back. He flipped them over and examined the leather patches on the palm and fingers. After a moment of observation, he met (Y/N)’s eyes.

“I like these ones,” he quietly stated and (Y/N) nodded at them.

“Try ‘em on and see if they fit.” He did so and smiled softly.

“They do.”

Muriel started to take them off and (Y/N) reached out. “Wait a second Muriel, put the ends of your palms together and make a ‘V’.”

He did so, albeit with confusion etched across his face, then looked at him. “What now?” (Y/N) smirked and leaned forward, propping his chin at the base of Muriel’s hands, cheeks pressed comfortably between his lover’s palms.

“Just as I thought,” he announced all knowingly. “They’re the perfect face cradling size.”

Muriel’s mouth snapped shut quicker than he’d ever seen it, and he watched as pink bloomed across his cheeks. Just as (Y/N) started to snicker, he pulled away and spun on his heel, marching off in the other direction.

“Nevermind! I don’t need any gloves!”

(Y/N) cackled as he tossed a coin purse onto the table and hurried after him. “Wait for me Muriel! We need to see if they’re the perfect size for handholding too! Muriel wait—how are you moving so fast?!”

***

“Is this even?”

(Y/N) glanced up from the magic tome Asra had lent him and peered at Muriel who had his back turned to him. He’d been adjusting the tapestry for almost ten minutes now, never satisfied with how high or low it hung. He hummed and drew his gaze up Muriel’s back to his broad shoulders, then to his arms and ultimately his hands.

“Maybe a little downwards,” he recommended.

“Which way?” Muriel asked, tilting it down left then right.

(Y/N) tutted. “Not that way, the other way.”

Muriel sighed and shifted the tapestry once more. “How about now?”

“Hmm…I don’t know…lemme see the other way again.”

The man started to shift, then a sudden realization came across him and he stopped and glared over his shoulder. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

Feigning innocence, he replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Muriel countered, and while a flush crossed his cheeks he added, “You’re making me move it back and forth so you can stare at me.”

(Y/N) scoffed, offense coming over his expression as he snapped the tome shut and stood to his feet. “Okay, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you accuse me of something I’m clearly doing.”

Muriel cocked a dark brow and deadpanned, “Oh so what are you doing to do then?”

He gathered a few pillows from off the bed and walked over to where Muriel was standing before he dropped the cushions down. Collapsing on the floor, (Y/N) curled his hands under his head and stared up at Muriel, who was still glowering at him with enflamed cheeks.

Nodding, (Y/N) said, “I’m going to lay here and watch you work.” Grinning, he chirped, “My big strong craftsman.”

Muriel spluttered and turned around, ignoring every comment (Y/N) gave him afterwards.

***

Now Muriel wasn’t a fool. And sometimes, just sometimes, Muriel gave as good as he got, and returned (Y/N)’s teasing with some of his own.

***

The night had drawn on, and though (Y/N) loved a good party, for some reason, he felt tired. Mentally and physically. It was the kind of tired that made him want to crawl under the covers and sleep for an entire day. That or have someone crack his back like a glow stick and send him on his way. Given the way he was feeling, he figured that causing worry amongst his friends wouldn’t be polite, so he slipped out the back and wandered down to the fountain for a breather.

(Y/N) laid down and stared up at the starry sky for a few moments before shutting his eyes. Just a few moments of shut eye would revive him for the last couple hours of the night and then they’d all go to bed; Nadia had happily fixed a room for he and Muriel—then again, she said they always had a room at the palace.

He placed his hands across his abdomen and breathed deeply, the scent of daphne flowers settling over him. As the peace washed over him, the tension drained from his body and he went boneless against the cool, stone rim of the fountain, slowly beginning to drift into sleep. Rustling leaves sounded, but with as comfortable as he was, there was no way that (Y/N) was going to open his eyes, let alone care.

Footsteps came his way until they stopped before him and heaving a sigh, (Y/N) cracked an eye open, a lazy smile crossing his lips when he gazed up at Muriel.

“Found me, did you?” he joked, and Muriel merely gave him a good-natured huff and moved to sit down, gently maneuvering (Y/N)’s head until it rested on his thigh.

“You left.”

(Y/N) groaned and shifted his neck until he was comfortable again, closing his eyes once more when Muriel began to softly caress his cheek.

“Needed a moment of reprieve.”

Muriel snorted. “Consider dinner with our friends a painful event?”

“It is when Asra and Julian start going at it over whether magic or science is easier to perform.” (Y/N)’s grunted. “I’ve never seen a couple so in love get so heated over a subject.”

The hand caressing his cheek stopped and he heard, “This coming from the man who argues with Nadia whether sleeping on silk or satin sheets is better.”

(Y/N)’s eyes flew open, and he griped, “It’s practically the same thing!”

Muriel tipped his head side to side. “Well, satin is a weave of fabrics and silk is a natural fiber, (Y/N). Technically they’re not the same thing.” He smiled. “And silk is shimmery whereas satin is glossy.”

He glowered at the man. “Whose side are you on? Because right now it seems like you’re agreeing with Nadia over—”

Muriel leaned down and pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead, effectively silencing him before he murmured, “I’m on the side of the person I love the most. And that’s you, (Y/N).”

He felt his cheeks warm, and he let out a ‘pfft’, looking off into the distance. “I can’t believe you’re flirting with me so casually.”

Muriel chuckled. “Must be your influence on me.”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Good or bad influence?” His lover took a moment, seeming to think seriously about it. “Really? It’s taking you that long to decide?”

Muriel shrugged. “You’re not exactly a shining pillar of moral perfection, (Y/N).”

“Is this revenge for being a jackass all the time? This is revenge for being a jackass all the time, isn’t it?”

His lover huffed a laugh. “You’re my jackass.”

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itsnothingofinterest · 3 years

Text

New semi-crazy theory: I think Gentle, and La Brava by extension, could eventually join the PLF as they gain power(/recover from their current situation).

I mean think about it; what we know about Danjuro Tobita is as such. He was in hero school but failed to get his license repeatedly. Sadly this did not stop him from acting when he saw someone in trouble he thought he could save; accidentally getting in a hero’s way, injuring both parties, and effectively ruining his life until he became the Gentle Criminal. While trying to act like something of a vigilante by sticking it to major corporations, his crimes amounted to YouTube pranks & fighting heroes until Deku defeated him and he & La Brava were arrested. Now going forward, Gentle seeks to rebuild his & La Brava’s lives, which he will presumably be allowed to do despite his arrest, since the investigator is the one who suggested it.

For that reason (and also because their established characters), we can probably assume they’ll be out on the streets again eventually; either because their charges were minor and they’ll be out in a couple months, or they’ll be asked to take part in community service, maybe they’ll even get put in the Suicide Squad situation as the PLF situation worsens, or even they were just broken out by AFO on prison break day and are already free & acting on their own rn.

So them coming into contact with Tomura isn’t far fetched. And if Tomura knows Gentle’s history; either through Gentle sharing his backstory again, Tomura’s information guys giving him Gentle’s data, or maybe even being a fan of his videos, Tomura may think of Gentle as the kind of person the world needs; the kind of person who would’ve lent a hand to a wandering Tenko Shimura. So I think Tomura might try to get Gentle on his side and offer him a position in the PLF; and what’s more, there’s a chance Gentle would accept. I mean there’s the natural obstacle of the PLF/Tomura’s bad rep, and Gentle once said he didn’t like their violent style; but if Gentle is presented with a person telling him he was right to try to save that guy, that he’s appreciated and maybe even admired, and he could make a real difference in the world if he joined up with that person, I imagine that would have a major effect on Gentle.

On the other hand; while La Brava has less reason as we know in canon, people have theorized that some of her school bullying may have partially came from quick harassment. That logic goes that if a person has a love-based quirk requiring a loved one to use it on, and those around that person know this, any attempt that person makes to find a significant other may seem self-interested or predatory, thus adding to why her classmates would find her to be a creep.

For that reason, it’s easy to see why the core message of the PLF regarding confronting discrimination against quirk usage might appeal to her specifically. (Not that it matters too much anyway; she’d follow Gentle everywhere and we know it. But it’s nice to assume she could have her own reason for joining.)

So yeah, I think there’s a real chance that the PLF could have some appeal to the both of them, and could see their recruitment. And as a bonus, that could increase their importance & reintroduce them into things. Of course, they’d also have reason not to join; Shigaraki is to the public still what he is to the public. Actually, maybe we could get some conflict between the 2 from that if one saw more appeal than the other; perhaps I’m too soon to say La Brave would go along with what Gentle wants in either regard.

Still, I think them possibly joining up would be the coolest option. Like, could you imagine these two interacting with the PLF higher ups? It’d be great.

#bnha #gentle criminal #la brava #shigaraki tomura #paranormal liberation front #PLF #my stupid long term predictions

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lady-literature · 4 years

Text

my chaotic ass thoughts on Millionaire Detective Ep 4

enjoy :)

(also spoilers. Obviously)

oh no what happened? he mad???

still adore the opening credits, god they’re just so pretty??

also, when we gonna see the modern crimes division again? i want to know more about them

He’s not in a suit!!! is this the most under dressed we’ve ever seen him?

Oh? what does Haru need?

Daisuke really just be soooo put out by the fact he isn’t driving in style huh? this man

Also Haru??? In a letterman jacket?? yes please!

impatient baby

this is the second time he’s told Haru to get on with it

is this it? is this the episode Daisuke and Haru adopt a child??

Daisuke magical girl confirmed???

No HEUSC?? uh oh

does this mean Daisuke doesn’t have access to his money?

oh god...

Is Daisuke,,,, broke???

okay first of all?? I love this kid holy fuck like,,, me too bitch? I live you you manipulative fuck

they really be getting hustled by a fourth grader

Haru straight up dragged Daisuke into this mess without a damn thought huh? he was like, ‘if i must suffer so will you’

also is it just me, or is there height difference less noticeable in this episode?

“You’re dog is mocking you” Daisuke have you ever been near a dog?

Haru: hey, stop lying to children

Daisuke: that ain’t my problem

Bruh, Daisuke was really about to hit a child for calling him old and lazy huh?

Kid: what? you tired?

Daisuke: *the arthur meme**

“i don’t have money.” *stunned silence from Haru*

then immediately after: okay here’s some money for a train so you can get home

Haru is just??? such a good person?? literally lent the richest person in the world some money like it was nothing

Hi I love Suzue

Oh my god, she made his shoes taller??? this man is so goddamn short and I thrive

Also, I repeat, I love Suzue

she’s so worried?? and literally hacked a store sign??

she’s so smart and so dumb and I STAN

also Nana Kambe is great too

(she is def subtly setting up our boys aint she?)

Daisuke @ natto: >:(

Daisuke, not everyone has servants like you.

*Gretchen Wieners voice* Oh my god, Daisuke, you can’t just ask people why they go grocery shopping for themselves.

“What about your wife?”

Daisuke, a distinguished gay: “My fucking what now?”

also, good to know we weren’t the only ones confused about Suzue

also Haru seems very happy about Suzue being a relative

and ayyyy,,,, you know what that means boys!!

(shipping shipping shipping)

Daisuke: damn bitch, you live like this?

Daisuke: okay but like really. say sike rn

Haru have you looked at that man?? there is no way in hell he has ever seen, let alone chopped, a potato. Are you high?

home boy gonna cut his finger off

(This scene instantly reminded me of that one from Princess and the Frog where Tiana has Naveen cut a mushroom. the similarities are... so high. AU anyone?)

WHAT I FUCKIN SAY??

his lil tongue just-

ahhhhhhhh DAISUKE IN A HOODIE?????? AND HIS HAIR IS DOWN?????????

DED

(also is that a steven universe reference?)

this is so domestic I can’t- wtf??

so continues the adventures of Daisuke trying ~commoners food~

these bitches DRUNK

Haru be like: “this fucker insults my food, i’ll show him! he’s gonna like this if I have anything to say about it”

why am I not surprised by Haru’s love for cheesy detective shows

hi i love drunk!daisuke. he is a treasure

i still love suzue

idk why but HEUSC saying Balance: Limited had me cackling

why the hell is he in the tub??

it’s not filled, but now all I can think is “I’m washin me and my clothes”

goodbye commoner!daisuke *sniff* you will be missed

rip Haru’s letterman jacket

AWWW! Daisuke found the dog!

oh wait. no he didn’t. oop

bruh that’s sad

Character Development TM. just last episode, daisuke wouldn’t ride the train and now he’s asking for train fare?

look how fuckin smug this bitch is at the fact he can ‘cook’

and god. i’ve said it so much but I love Suzue so much. i adore her

55,616?? dude that is such a jump from every episode before that

also like,,,, do they ever explain why he was upset? was he really just pissed about the natto? this baby

And like, now that I’m thinking about it, and I’ve watched the episode twice, I’m worried there’s something wrong with Daisuke? Like, his eyes are red rimmed--sometimes very noticeably--and Suzue was ‘just thinking of his health’ with the natto thing. and, really, it does seem a bit out of left field for him to suddenly want to be a police officer.

is he sick? what’s wrong with him?

food for thought, ig

#the millionaire detective #fugou keiji #daisuke kambe #haru katou #daiharu #suzue kambe #lady addresses the court #fkbu #fkbu haru #fkbu daisuke #chaotic thoughts

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letsoulswander · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by the dear @salamoonder! thanks kid!

hardcover or paperback / rent or buy / read in silence or read with music / standalone or series / annotations or pristine pages / ebook or physical copy / dog ears or bookmarks or just straight up losing your place and finding it later / mismatched series or complete set / cover matters or you don’t judge / lend books or keep them to yourself / enjoys lit classes or despises them / browses shops or orders online / reads reviews or goes in blind / unreturned books or clean library record / rereads or once was enough / fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon / deep reader or easily distracted / must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter / neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves / skips ahead or resists temptation / reads aloud or in your head / guesses plot twists or never sees them coming

I’m tagging @skatzaa, @transnureyev, @sherbertdab, @flintbian, and anyone else who wants to! None of you have to tho but pls tag me if you do

(thoughts under the cut because I’m nothing if not verbose)

typically hard vs soft doesn’t bother me, but paperbacks are cheaper and easier to hold

I don’t plan to seriously expand my library again till I don’t plan to be moving yearly anymore (thanks, college)

I prefer silence but sometimes too much is happening in my head/around me so I need musix

series are fun but rn I take so long to finish one book that it’s easier to do standalone cries at the queen’s thief series

really hate reading annotated books, I never figured out how to do annotations in high school when it was required for grades and now I cannot do it with any peace

ebooks annoy me because my eyes hurt and i want to look at tumblr some more

sometimes i do tiny dog ears instead but I was heavily discouraged from doing that as a kid

cover matter if it’s beat the fuck up, but if the spine and all hold together and it’s not an active doodleboard I’ll take it

the last time I lent a book my sister kept it in her backpack for 6 months and I got it back beat to shit and I’m still upset because it was Brand Fucking New, Candy

I like lit classes if the teacher isn’t a dumbass and if the author isn’t a raging misogynist

if I find a book I wanna read I wanna read it Right Now

what kind of book reviews am I supposed to be readin? Goodreads? I have to laugh

listen sometimes I’m not done and then I forget and then I go on a weekend trip on the day it’s due

I have reread most of my favorites several times (I reread HP about seven times because I kept expecting the books to get more remarkable, somehow. it was a very average story with way too many people watching)

I have read So much fanfiction

I like deep reading but sometimes it’s Not Time and my brain decides to watch birds

I like reading the book first unless the movie looks really good, because sometimes the book is shit but the movie is great

what are yall putting on your shelves fam

who skips ahead? no I’m asking, who does that? How? how do you miss the buildup I-

listen when I was a kid I wasn’t supposed to be reading 90% of the time anyway

I guess plot twists a lot of the time and when I’m right it’s a scream

#tag game

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swearronchanel · 4 years

Text

9.02

thoughts

- Fred fighting the temptation of sweets bc of lent is a mood LMAO

- I’m proud to say that this lent I will be giving UP! on school and life all together amen

- I guess I should also look up when lent starts this year LMAO

- Put that cig down Beatrix

- But talk about a LOOK 😍

- “The cheek of it!” Violet is always mad but it’s funny lmaoo

- Sister MJ saying the younger women are upset over the milk missing😂 you know she is too

- SHE REALLY DID CATCH THE THEIF LMAOO

- She’s itching, does she have nits too

- I like the pretty woman (1990) looking wig tho lmaoo, it was on tv last night and decided to get the same wig and go as Vivian for Halloween this year

- Fred is gonna sneak later and eat that cake isn’t he? 😂

- Trixie is already agitated bc she can’t smoke, like relax it’s been 2 minutes lmaoo

- Omg she left the little girl home alone

- LMAO Paul McCartney “he’s my 3rd fav beetle”

- I’m sorry but I don’t see the hype in dr turner 😂 maybe it’s bc he actually does look like Paul McCartney lol

- Who named Sgt Wolfe “Aubrey”??

- But um Ms Higgins is planning to go away with him? how SCANDALOUS 😂😂you go girl

- LMAOOO Aubrey is the annoying girl in bitch perfect, cringe

- HE’S HAVING A HEART ATTACK REALLY?! Get outttt

- “If you’re not too busy with your pot plant” LMAO PHYLLIS IS REALLY THE QUEEN OF IDGAF

- Wow my stream is buffering lmao this is so corny 😭😭 rip iplayer that I can’t use anymore

- “Let’s all simmer down and put the kettle on” not now Valerie LMAO

- aww ms higgins, she looks so scared I feel bad

- Sister MJ😭don’t remind me about parents getting old and needing care

- I want more Phyllis backstory, she’s so interesting

- Trixie stress hula-hooping, I should pick that up that habit and TRY to trim this waist DOWN

- “Must be wonderful to be so saintly” LMAO Felt that Trixie, let them fall off their high horse😂

- But still I agree cigs are gross and smell like shit🤢

- Sister julienne is like uh let me go

- This actress reminds me a bit of Daisy from downton

- poor florie :(

- The nit picking seems redundant tho, wasn’t that sister winnie’s thing lmao

- Omg stop is Ms Higgins gonna cry 😭 my heart lmaoo she’s so nice I feel bad

- Millicent tho, talk about a mid century matronly name lmaooo😂

- LMAO shelagh is so confused rn, like ma’am she was interested in shagging your man

- Oh noo what’s wrong with her, liver disease ? Oh yea it is

- oof the sailor is gonna wake up with an infection too

- There’s a little America mention lol thanks for the shoutout Heidi, I dare you to write a storyline ft an American character

- Another look from Trixie 😍 hate the bangs but the hair looks great otherwise

- “Addiction thrives in the shadows” my wise girl

- LMAO I KNEW FRED WAS GONNA SNEAK SWEETS LIKE A LITTLE RAT

- Angela and May😭too cute

- Aww Phyllis came to visit

- Oh no do not break Ms Higgins’ heart

- WAIT IM A DUMBASS I DIDNT REALIZE THIS WHOLE TIME THOSE KIDS’ ARE TINA’S WOWWW I HATE ME

- this is why I shouldn’t live blog I miss things but also I am a certified dumbass Lmao

- BLOOD LETTING ouch, barbaric ass shit

- But SHES NOT GONNA DIE which is good!

- Oof gonorrhea

- “A burden? You’re my mum” 😭 my heart ugh, I just left my parents/home today and now I feel like I should call them

- Sister Francis joined at 17?!! Shitttt that’s so young I’m shook. I need more information

- “So you never uhhh?” LMAOO DONT ASK A NUN THAT SJSJJSKS

- if anyone tho..., I would guess sister J. She had her little man remember him in series 4, it was the late 20s or 30s right all shames out the window. I mean you can’t judge a book by it’s cover - at least look at my girl Phyllis 🤪 doing her duty on the home front with her military man during WWII LMAOOO

- POOR MS HIGGINS WOW I WOULD CRY IF I COULD, I FEEL SO BAD 😭😭

- I’ve wasted all my tears during my mini crisis this week bc I start my final semester of university tomorrow and am like wtf am I gonna do after LMAO

- Tina is not trying walk out now 🤦🏼‍♀️ cmon girl, think

- The flower freaking bloomed just to make this poor woman feel more sad

- Phyllis to the rescue with tea and comfort 😭

- Wow I feel heart broken and I’m single af LMAO ((No way in hell would I want sgt Wolfe but I’m EMPATHETIC OK))

- The Turner’s blue car is fire tho lol it’s so pretty

- What’s wrong with Tina oh noo

- “You take my strength” aww

- Ectopic pregnancy oh shittt

- It’s not funny at all but why do brits call surgery “theatre” LMAO operations are serious not a performance 💀😂

- Now sister J will change her mind about Trixie helping women get contraception, I’m betting $5

- Let her pray on it and watch

- I love sister MJ so so much. Judy is truly a gem 😭

- “I must accept the world as it, not as I wish it to be”

- Another LOOK from Ms Franklin 😍 I need to re create

- I KNEW IT!! SOMEONE BETTER SEND ME $5, Sister J came around

- Reggie sent Vi a card PURE😭

- Again, the buckles are adorable lol

- Aww Angela and May 😭😭

- THE TOAST PATRICK, SAVE THE GODDAMN TOAST

- Phyllis and Millicent ! FIRST NAME BASIS

- The duo we didn’t know we needed !

- “Life is not defined by what we let go, but what we let in” always on point Vanessa!!

- Teddy turner is so adorable, someone get this kid actor a baby gap contract swiftly

- And yet ANOTHER look from Trixie, we love to see it!

- Shelagh showing off her cards how pure

- SISTER MJ WITH THE FLOWERS UGH😭 my heart!!

#call the midwife #lol live blogging is forever a joke for me #thoughts

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bubypjm · 4 years

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why bighit is trash

or, alternatively, a list of things that bighit, an entertainment company/music label, should start doing and stop acting like a small company.

im puting everything under a read more bcos its a lot, for one, and im also sure that not everyone wants to read it or cares lmao

a little disclaimer; i speculate and connect things based off of the things we are shown/told, i will spoil some parts of their recent movie AND its not bighit-positive, obviously

okay to start this off, bighit released an official statement to say that bts will be going “on an official and extended period of rest and relaxation” and that’s honestly one of the best things that bighit has done for bts.

the statement is linked, but since i will be referring to a fair few points on it i will also attach it here

the issues start with the opening sentence.

“for the first time since their debut” bts will be going on an official and extended period of rest. to rephrase, for the first time in 6 years, the 7 men of bts will not be surrounded by cameras, will not be expected to attend any rehearsals or interviews and will not be expected to produce or write lyrics. they will not have any responsibilities tied to their work. or, that is what we all had assumed, but as we now know the members were expected to film content on what they do during their break and, if jungkooks video is anything to go by, they were also expected to edit and send it in to the company for “review”.

judging by the release/filming of Hoseok & Becky G’s CNS, it seems like their “break” does not include solo activities. or does bighit consider the building of ones own reputation as an individual artist an “extra” and not a part of ones work?

“enjoy the ordinary lives of people in their 20s, albeit briefly”

this just hurts. it was bighits responsibility to make sure that they got more chances to enjoy their lives.

the good

bighit reminding uglies to stay the fuck away from them during their short break.

okay, the statement aside, i want to talk about a few other bighit-bts related things.

bighit staff and sasaengs

- stalkers appearing in hoseoks bday vlive (no its not staff, the girls’ accounts were found on instagram. they were quite pleased with themselves) were was the security ? how did the girls know which room the boys were in ? doesn’t bighit rent out the entire hotel floor ? does that mean they were allowed in ? why ? did they pay ? do their parents have connections bighit could use ?

- giving away members clothes, providing concert entrance, giving away members numbers ect

the thing that occurred during hoseoks vlive was not looked into, as far as i am aware, however Jimin’s Gucci concert shirt being 'lent’ to a stalker was.

However, minimum to little effort was put into the case because no staff was fired, no disciplinary measures were taken and no consequences occurred.

- during either DNA or Fake Love comeback stages on music shows, some armys were not permitted entrance and some privileged people were taken backstage to meet the members (which is NOT allowed, at any point. those are PRIVATE areas for the idols to rest and prep for the stage) source 1 & more if you look around.

- not firing a manager that hit jungkook source (some speculate he was fired, others speculate he was removed from being a manager and took another position within bighit.)

- bighit restricting any and all interactions with the members among staff. according to one of the backup dancers during Not Today and/or Singularity, bighit staff was very strict about NOT speaking with the members.

take the last point as you will. I have my own thoughts about it

- no subs on army kit content, no subs for bangtan bombs (other channels have them. bighit claims themselves to be a global company but doesn’t move as such). its all well and good to say “you’re stanning a korean company, learn korean!” and this may work for bangtan bombs, but what about army kit content? why isn’t that subtitled? or should that be dismissed with “you don’t have to buy it”?

the good

- giving bts a private jet and not making them go through public entrances and exits. thank u bighit

the movie

this will contain spoilers.

- big hit staff filmed the members during their vulnerable moments.

jungkook nearly passing out, filmed and slotted into the movie. the members crying and clearly feeling emotionally vulnerable ? recorded and snipped into the movie. this would’ve been fine if the members were fine with it, but jungkook was clearly trying to hide his face from the camera and jimin expressed not wanting to show himself in bad conditions.

- treatment of bighit staff

we all know that jungkook had to sit out during some stages during the love-yourself tour. what we didn’t know was that he got stitches without any medication that would ease his pain because he had to go on stage.

jungkook hurt himself so badly that he needed stitches, but was not allowed anything to subdue the pain while getting the stitches because it would not make him stage-ready. the staff members watched as he screamed while getting stitches.

now, i don’t really care whether it was jungkook’s decision or not. nobody in their right mind would let someone they care about go through with something like that. there will be other stages, there will be other concerts. however, idk why i find this surprising since jungkook was hit by a staff member before and the only reason why he got fired was bcos it was spotted in the bg of a bangtan bomb and armys demanded for the man to be fired.

- secondly, jimin’s neck and dropping out of the graham norton show.

i cannot find the translation rn, but while deciding what to tell the fans with regards to what happened to jimin and why he isn’t able to perform with the rest, namjoon tries to opt for telling the truth in a gentle way while one of the staff members suggests a white lie as to not worry the fans.

this has also happened before with the korean vs english statement regarding jungkook’s heal injury. the korean explanation stated that it was serious, while the english one explained it more casually. i cannot find the sources currently, but if you look around yourself you can find them.

bighit.

- keeping supreme boi employed

- forcing jimin and jin to sing in female key in fake love, despite both of them expressing their struggle with reaching such high notes.

- not providing a vocal coach while on tour (jimin had to ask jungkook for advice)

- vocal line still have not got their own studios despite expressing their want for it, yet txt members have their own studios already. source

- members having less and less influence over the groups music. even recently yoongi mentioned that the songs he makes don’t match with bts’ music/style anymore source

- bighit being immensely difficult to work with overseas (strict venue rules regarding staff, changing things last minute, not being time-efficient)

- leaving taehyung’s stage name out of promotional works/promo tweets

- not taking action against death threats made against taehyung

- forcing jimin to speak about his death threats during a live, global interview in korea

- not cleaning up the copyright matter over using michael jackson’s song “black or white” in the festa performance of jimin and jungkook - resulted in their performance being taken down

- no bangtan bomb behind jimin creating his song “promise”, while recently there have been videos released of jins, jungkooks and taehyung’s solos

- bighit shooting down collaborations and picking and chosing the artists that collab with bts, despite the members wanting and expressing interesting in collaborations with said artist (why did we get a chainsmokers collab before a tinashe one? a khalid one?)

- bighits deal with dispatch. dispatch is known for exposing scandals and relationships among idols, so the fact that they get an exclusive peak into the bangtan life is interesting and rather worrisome.

-however, one of the dirtiest moves that bighit pulled was during the break between DNA and Fake Love. as we know now, that time was very hard for the members. it was in that gap that the members spoke of disbanding, there were rumours/concerns about jungkook’s well being and fans also pointed out taehyung’s odd state.

during this time, instead of allowing the members time and space to decide everything, bighit had applied for the legal copyright regarding everything bts. the group name was copyrighted, as were the members stage names, fandom name among other things (there are articles on naver, if you’re interested).

SPECULATION

i just want to stress that these are my thoughts and you are welcome to disagree and have your own opinions.

Although we know that the members have re-signed the contract with bighit for another 7 years, I do believe that their pens were pushed by bighit’s copyrighting run. the members had 2 choices; either bind yourself to another contract and stay with that which you have built for years, or drop everything and start anew. however, something tells me that bts didn’t sign the contract with no leverage.

namjoon had said previously that although the group started with 7 boys with the same goal, it now consists of 7 men on one boat, each with their eyes set on different horizons. i believe that with namjoon’s collaborations with more and more overseas artists (honne, fall out boy, lil nas x ect), he may have gotten himself more opportunities for solo work.

similar could be said about yoongi. the man is a musical genius and with his production of suran’s wine and heize’s we dont talk together, yoongi may also end up branching in that direction.

taehyung has expressed his interest in fashion and photography a lot over the past years. seokjin has not acted at all in his life, despite starting off to do just that. hoseok began to branch out with CNS but jimin and jungkook have seemingly little to no outside projects, either (though you could count wiom for jungkook)

the boys’ previous contract was, clearly, restricting and very demanding. i think that their new contract allows them a lot more freedom and room to establish a reputation as individuals. that isn’t to say, however, that bighit let the boys end bts as a whole and permitted them to go off and start solo careers.

from what is happening now and what has happened in the past, I do not believe that bighit would let bts disband, you can decide if that is for better or for worse. however, the only way to keep bts together and satisfied, is to give room for the members to do that what they want. i think that we may start to see some more solo projects from the members, and a lot more control and influence from the outside over bts’ music, concepts and management. ever since LY: Tear had been released, i find myself thinking that their next release will be the last one before a mass hiatus due to enlisting. this time, however, i feel like it may be their final release and concert tour before the group steps back for a while. bighit debuted a new group and is pumping a lot of money into it. they had also recently obtained an entire new company that not only has a lot of trainees of its own, but also manages Gfriend - an already debuted and established group. bighit is no longer the little underground company that relied on 7 boys to bring it out of its debts. however, it will not let its biggest source of income fall away because, at the end of the day, bighit is a company. the most likely scenario, to me, is that once seokjin and/or others enlist, bts as ot7 will go on a break, but bighit will still get to cash in through the boys’ solo work. so, we may see sneak peaks of their solo careers here and there, but bts will remain active as 7 until it can’t no more.

#bighit #bts #long post

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momo-de-avis · 5 years

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Hi! Just wondering about your opinion that if the Catholic Church sold its art&treasures it would no longer be there for the world to enjoy and would fall into private hands&be hoarded away (many saying the church should sell rn) I've often sat in cathedrals like Notre Dame and marveled at what palaces were built for the masses to enjoy. Like a little luxury for all of us, even the least of us. I know you are an art historian and wondered what you thought of this. : ) hope you are well : )

Thank you anon! I hope you are well too!!

To be frank, this is actually a legal question. And as such, it varies from country to country.

The Notre Dame, for example, is not owned by the Catholic church. I think France has very similar laws in this respect to my country, and what that means is: the monument, itself, is a National Treasure or National Monument (I don’t know the correct definition, but what it means is: it’s a building highly classified, of not just historical interest to the country, but in heritage as well, and as such is prioritized above others).

In my country, for example, if I am not mistaken, churches that are not classified as National Monuments do not belong to the church entirely (they are allowed financial compensation from the Vatican, which should be employed in restoration, but then priests… you know), but if they aren’t, then the State has to stay away from it. This is because our Constitution states the separation of Church and State, and it’s a double-edged sword: if you wonder why stuff like the infamous restoration of that Jesus painting by Dona Cecilia happened, it’s because the church it’s the sole holder of the building and every artefact inside of it. Stuff like that actually happened several times over in our country: because there is no legal classification of the building, nor the artefacts inside of it—thus no legal protection from the State—priests do what the fuck they want and hire retired 80-year-old painters to slap some plastic paint on an 18th century mural (I wish I was kidding but this shit actually happened).

Again, I don’t know how it goes in other countries, but in Portugal, since the law defines ‘culture’ as something that belongs to everyone, everyone is allowed—and motivated to—act if they see a certain building decaying or believe it to be in danger. This is actually something a lot of people don’t know, and instead take it to facebook, but as a citizen, you can walk into your local city hall and present a form of petition (I sincerely forgot what paperwork this involves) requestion for the monument in question to be classified as ‘in danger’. As soon as that classification happens, the withholder of the monument will be inquired, and if anything happens to it, the owner will be fined.

So, what I mean to say is: the actual Catholic church actually doesn’t own lot of the churches out there classified as Monuments. One thing that also helps to preserve these monuments and to maintain them as public property—actually, now that I think of it, I think it completely forbids governments from selling a monument to a private owner—is if they are classified by Unesco. If it’s got a Unesco stamp of approval, it’s public and cannot be private, I believe (though correct me if I am wrong).

When it comes to privately owning art, however… I am for the opinion that art belongs to everyone, and though you are entitled to own art privately, you have to keep in mind that it is not yours, but everyone’s, and thus SHOULD allow for the art you possess to be viewed by the public. I don’t mean display it in a museum, but work towards images and information of the artwork you own to be made public and accessible to everyone. I say this because portuguese art history is a nightmare. You have an insane amount of incredible artists from the 19th century, and the vast majority of their works, you can’t even find an image.

See, I teach art history, and it’s absolute hell for me. I remember telling my students, super frustrated, that I couldn’t find a single picture of more than 2 or 3 paintings by Aurélia de Sousa. And what is more frustrating is that, the more you progress through history, the less resources you find. Portuguese Neo-Realism is inexistent. If you google it, this is what you get:

The most important painting, the one that set the movement, isn’t even on the first few pages. Now would you believe if I told you we actually have an entire museum dedicated to neo-realism? Would you believe if I told you it was one of the most important artistic movements in the end of second world war, and an incredible voice against fascism at a time? Probably not, because we don’t really have anything out there to be seen.

This happens because, since our market is tiny and absolute shit, most things that exist are privately owned—usually, heirs of the painters or people who bought it in auctions for pennies—in other words, people you have to wait to die out to actually see the paintings. And there’s something incredibly cruel there. I teach this shit and I have nothing to teach, no tools to teach my students, because these private owners of art refuse to share—and I mean refuse. Aurélia de Sousa, for example, was a passionate photographer, which is something people don’t know. Why? Because the man who owns her photos, for years, refused to let anyone even touch them. This raises another issue as well: if you refuse to let anyone get close, then you suck because art needs to be preserved. 19th century photos in particular wither away. With everything, happens.

With that in mind, there’s also the issue of how these privately owned artworks are preserved. Paintings, if you don’t know, cannot be exposed to natural light, especially sunlight—particularly older paintings. Photos and film have to be preserved at a particularly cold temperature. Wood has to be constantly polished, but because of how old it is, it requires the right technique and materials. Same with silver, gold, etc. Of course, a museum, a cathedral, or what have you, they all have teams at ready for that sort of conservation—but when a private owner acquires a piece of art that isn’t legally classified in any way, they can very well be responsible for its distruction.

We’ve had two very important works burn because of that. First, this painting by Vieira Portuense, who is the only other name we have to have defined neo-classicism (it was short-lived here, we were to busy having a civil war or fending off the french). It’s an emblematic painting for its time, because it’s an embryonic moment of transition between neo-classicism and romanticism. But it’s gone, because the house it was in burned down. Another one I don’t remember the name, but it was Josefa d’Óbidos—the first female painter to have her own workshop here in Portugal. Again, a flood caused a short-circuit which caused for the house to burn down, and the painting was lost.

If a painting (and I think other artefacts as well) is classified in some way (National Treasure, National Interest and uhhhh…. there’s a third one I forgot D:), the owner IS forced to keep it preserved. He is forced to clean it and restore it. If he damages in any way, he is fined and the painting can be confiscated from him. Same for buildings that are classified as anything below National Monument. But if it happens to be a work of art that isn’t classified in any way, legally speaking… Well, if it disappears, it’s gone, and the owner just loses a painting.

So it’s an incredibly delicate issue. On the one hand, privately owning art is necessary for artists, and I speak of both galleries and auction houses. It keeps the flow of the art economy going (though the art world is RIDICULOUS INFLATED economically speaking, but that’s a whole other conversation) and the market value of artists that are alive and, well, need to eat, is raised every time they sell something. Also, a country’s art market increases if they manage to sell more of their art alongside international artists (why Portugal fucking sucks in that respect), so that in itself is of great interest to artists who are alive and practicing, as well as for the country itself.

But on the other hand, it’s really a double-edged sword. Because I still maintain that art belongs to everyone, and no matter how many artworks you own, you have to keep that in mind. I had the chance to work for art collector who was very conscious about this: he lent his art constantly without charging anything and he kept his every artwork so well preserved he actually had restore works after lending them to museums. Now if everyone had that conscience, the world would be a better place.

So I put it this way to sort of generalize it, because I don’t believe, for one second, the church is exempt from this in any way. In Europe, they detain a great part of many country’s heritage. In our own country, they hold like half of our shit. But again: double-edged sword.

You said something that is very accurate: churches like the Notre Dame were built for the masses. They were built for everyone, because it is the House of God where everyone is accepted and welcomed. Yes, it initially had a purpose, bore a function that doesn’t serve entirely anymore (though mass is still held in it, the fact that it is today a touristic attraction has shifted the church’s initial purpose, so to speak). So to think that the Catholic Church would close it down, or simply decide that suddenly they couldn’t allow people inside because they own it goes against not just (in our case) the legal definition of cultural object, it goes against the very principle of catholicism—something they turn around easily by opening its doors free of charge during mass. There is a huge debate in my country every like, two summers, because some cathedrals you have to pay to get inside—and something about that isn’t right. If you have to pay to enter, that means the building in itself is important enough that it’s classified as something, at the very least National Monument, but by charging money to get inside, you’re already breaking the very definition of cultural object, legally speaking: everyone is allowed to experience culture. This is a serious debate that happens every so often, and reason why it’s moved certain parties to try and end this shit of pay-to-enter churches, which is maddening to me (supposedly, they say, it’s to tame touristic masses a bit, but we all know that ain’t it).

What’s graver, as I said, is the case of small parishes that happen to own ancient artefacts like statues from the 18th century. Because priests aren’t educated on the matter, they think, oh this is a pretty little nativity scene! And hire some old dude to paint over a fresco. The example I mentioned above, where this happened?

This is what it looked like before:

this is after:

Yeah. I mean, I laugh every time cause it is fucking funny, but you gotta do it not to cry lmao

So like, for me, if we are going to entrust the Catholic church with artefacts and monuments—not necessarily sell them, you can legally lend them, like a legal guardian sort of agreement (I’m sorry, there’s a correct legal term for this but I don’t know it, the shit about law is that you have to address things with the right word)—you gotta force these fuckers to respect what they own. Force them to have restorations made, to clean their shit, to maintain their possessions. Force them to make an effort into bringing awareness to the existence of these things. For the love of God, FORCE THESE PEOPLE TO MAKE AN INVENTORY. Bitch, HIRE ME, I’LL DO YOUR INVENTORY FOR YOU.

And bring these artworks into the world. Create a website. Make pictures of these artworks publically available, free of charge, so that people can look at it, study and it and have free access to it. Have you ever walked into a museum and got told you aren’t allowed to photograph the works inside? I’ll tell you that’s bogus. Sure, flash damages the work, but no flash causes no harm. When a museum does that, I can guarantee you it’s one of two things: one, the artwork you are forbidden from photographing is privately owned by some Elongated Muskrat who thinks they’re above everyone else because LoOk aT mE I oWn ArT, and two: the museum is telling you to buy a catalogue.

What museums usually tend to not understand is that the free circulation of images of their artworks is actually what brings MORE people to their museum. Like, this is a fucking proven fact—that’s why they sell postcards, prints and tote bags with their paintings on it. Case in point? London: you think they give a shit if you take up-close photos of their paintings in Tate Britain? I know they don’t cause I was the idiot photographing paint drips on a goddamn William Holman Hunt. And you don’t even pay to get inside. But do you remember what artworks are inside the Museo Reina Sofia in Madrid—aside from the Guernica? Yeah, which one has a strict policy in not photographing their paintings, you ask? Well.

So, tl;dr: if you’re gonna own art, make it available to the public, whether by putting it in a museum or making information about it—including pictures—accessible to all, and the government should be all over your ass annually to make sure you’re not damaging the artworks, otherwise lose custody of the baby and pay a fine. If you’re not gonna abide by these principles, then I am of the opinion that you don’t truly know the real worth of what you’re in possession of, and therefore shouldn’t be allowed to have it. AND THAT MEANS YOU TOO, VATICAN. Fuck your parishes, hire me. There’s a bunch of qualified people to do the job for you, you guys are just lazy and are keeping the Vatican’s money in your pockets.

#damn this got long sorry anon #Anonymous

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 5 years

Note

i'm terrible and kind of a mess, so i havent actually read your fae au fic stuff yet, just some of the random thoughts and such you've posted here, so I may have missed it but i have a very random question: is Charley a normal plant or some kind of magical thing as well? (im hoping its the latter because i just thought about this and it just seems really fun rn)

Hey, no worries, the fic isn’t going anywhere, and I have a reading list a mile long so I can sympathize!

I actually haven’t lent too much thought to Charley, beyond the fact that Mia’s presence in the office is a key factor in keeping him alive because Nick and Maya are both hot messes, but as you say this I can only think of Trucy telling Apollo to call him “Mr Charley” and Apollo does because he has no idea if this is a normal plant or not and he’s too afraid to ask but he doesn’t want to risk angering some plant-spirit by not showing it the proper respect.

(You know, Charley probably is magic, probably brought over from the fae realm, and like, Juniper when she comes by to visit one day notices and Phoenix is like “oh huh I always wondered whether or not this plant was a bit magic.”

“Mr Wright” says Apollo, who has a headache, “you’ve worked out of this office for a decade. How could you not know?”

“Apollo, my guy, I don’t know shit about anything.”)

#fae au tag #Anonymous

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nicoletteduclare · 5 years

Text

Okay so I haven’t gotten a lot new done on this, but I’ve been rereadings and doing minor edits here and there. so here it is as of rn, in full form

Maxwell would have closed his eyes if it wasn't for the probable chance he'd get an earful about not paying attention, then he'd have to reply and to reply, he'd have to cough up the petals he can feel just sitting in his throat. And well, that would be a whole new issue to handle, that apparently concerns what they're all talking about. Which is, of course, people having far more frequent dips in their mental stability.

They're all suffering from whatever is causing it, and Max would add in that he is too, but he has an idea of what's causing it.

He's been suffering through it for seasons now. Seeing terrorbeaks out of the corner of his eyes, headaches, the world has a tendency to turn grey after a day or so if he doesn't bother to fix the problem... and it's all due to the petals that he'd really like to go cough up right now and bury or convert to nightmare fuel so no one could accidentally stumble upon them. They're full of thorns, and they've been getting worse... there's always a tinge of copper in his mouth these days.

He'd always thought that this was a myth, some fairy-tale disease. He'd struggled to tell Charlie at first, for god's sake, and he'd never coughed up petals. And he'd loved her, loved her so much and then he'd failed and ruined the both of them.

That leaves a sour pit in his stomach just thinking about it. That's maybe one of many, if not one of the biggest reasons that he's ended up with these petals stuck in his throat. Why get close to someone to fail them too, to most likely ruin them the way he's managed to destroy everything else. What's the point of even thinking it was possible? It'd blow up in his face, and what if they end up worse off then Charlie?

He'll choke to death on these flowers before letting that happen again. There's a nudge from his side, "I'm really starting to wonder if you ever pay attention to anything we talk about." Wilson said, a frown on his face.

He either has to cough these up or swallow them, and as much as it hurt, he looks to the side to swallow and turns back. "I pay plenty of attention, Higgsbury." He manages a dry, even tone, even though his throat is raw.

There's a annoyed sigh and Wilson pinches the bridge of his nose, a flower crown perched nicely on his head. "Whatever. We're going to move camps tomorrow to see if maybe there's something we've missed that's been dragging down everyone. It's been getting pretty bad, though I doubt you're even aware of it."

Max just nods, it looks like he's agreeing with Wilson, and watches the other get up and walk off, the urge to cough again rising. If only Wilson knew half of it. Though, if Wilson even knew... He bites the inside of his cheek to keep the coughing reflex down and gets up to go dispose of the petals. It probably wouldn't make much difference anyway. - He'd already died a quite a few times of it before anyone finally noticed, really. Not that he could fully recall what the deaths were like, and whenever he came back no one pressed it. Max heard Willow mutter something about him being irresponsible, and he fell back into the habit of being alone for everyone's sake, including his own.

The idea of it being found out, besides mortifying, was that there would be questions. Attempts to fix it.

And the idea that his affections would be reciprocated was frankly, downright hilarious in the worst possible way. So Maxwell had accepted the thorny stems, the sharp black and rusty red petals as his penance. The worsening headaches and the fact that the world was frequently dull grey shot with streaks of red was just a added bonus, even as he managed to keep himself from teetering at the edge of his sanity, the world was never quite as colorful as it should be. His time between deaths was getting shorter, and the man had to wonder if there was a point where it'd just be hours between them. That, or the terrorbeaks and such would finally get him.

Maybe it's what he deserved. Through his time with the ragged band of survivors he'd managed to pull into this mad little game, in what was most likely years upon years now, guilt did find it's own ways in.

Just as well to have a punishment that fit that sort of crime.

It'd only been a week ago, and even without really remembering how each death felt, Max somewhat knew that it was close to the end again, as he was on his hands and knees, blood dripping from his mouth and onto the not-so small pile of dark petals below.

His arms were shaking, and yet he heard a voice. Max tried to force himself to stand, he couldn't let this be seen. Especially not by...

"Stars and atoms, Maxwell, what the hell are you-..." The statement didn't finish as Max choked up more petals, gagging on this bunch. A pathetic gasp for air as there was an arm trying to help him up, winding underneath his chest. It was too late this time. - He woke up at camp, and that might be the scariest thing by far, seeing as he hadn't had the materials to recreate a meat effigy since the first death by petals, and touchstones were what he was relying on to give him time to manage the coughing fits.

No, this time it was twilight and there was Wilson looking at him, the rest of the camp seemed... empty. Until he realized that it was their latest abandoned camp, only a couple of seasons old, fire-pit still in good condition.

He was still on the ground and was joined by Wilson kneeling. "Why didn't you tell anyone, you idiot!" Was hissed between teeth as Wilson was digging in his bag for something, and Max could only give a confused look at him at first before dawning realization set in fully.

Wilson must have seen him die. Wilson had seen the petals. Not that he could remember it of course, but it was the only conclusion.

Wilson knew, and that was quite frankly terrifying, due to that realization Max could barely react before one of those godawful needles was used. "How long?" Wilson asked, evaluating him, eyes bright and narrowed. "Frankly, if it wasn't for my mother's tale of her younger sister dying of it, I wouldn't have even believed it." He muttered, grabbing another needle as Maxwell pulled away finally.

He pushed down the sleeve and stood on slightly weak legs, ignoring his aching head and heart. "None of your business." Max said, tense and quiet.

"None of my business?" Wilson stood too, practically glaring daggers at Maxwell, and the man looked to the side to avoid it. "You think that it's none of my business when you're managing to affect the rest of us? I saw what kind of flower you were coughing up. Not to mention dying so often that I'd assume it's wasting resources. You think that any of that isn't my business, Maxwell?" It's venomous, and Max grit his teeth to keep from coughing up the blasted things right now, he knew it was always going to be a lost cause and this proved it. He silently turned on his heel and walked away, vision swimming. - Max sorted through his pack, just to make sure all of his things were accounted for. The codex, for one, as useless as it was in his current state, not to mention an assortment of food, winter gear, tools, a few salves, and torches. He hadn't taken much, seeing as he knew he had a walking death sentence. Just the essentials that he'd try to retireve from his corpse for the fifth time since heading off on his own. He shivered as he managed on the vest and earmuffs, sliding a unheated thermal stone into the interior pocket he'd stitched.

Next to his pack currently was a copied map of the underground cave system, touchstones marked off and slashed through. Max knew he was running out of them, but he couldn't face anyone right now. He wondered if anyone had believed Wilson, if the man had said anything. Honestly, even with the reality of magic, Maxwell had considered this disease a myth. A story told to children and young adults to warn them away from pining for people they could never be with. Well, he'd never listened to that, had he? His chest ached thanks to the flowers that were going to suffocate him once again.

Max remembered the first time he'd woken up to the urge to cough as he folded up the map and stood, walking away from the pile of bones. That night they'd both been working on bandaging themselves up after a mistake in the desert. Hound mounds were always trouble, and Wilson had forgotten the range. One of his own wounds was on his back, and Wilson had lent a hand in bandaging it up. Normally, he'd refuse the help, but it wasn't like he was able to fully bandage his back properly.

Some of their usual banter was exchanged, but Wilson's warm hands were against his back, a mutter of how lucky he was that it was superficial, and all too soon it was finished. The other had looked like he'd seen better days, the night wearing on an already tired mind. Max had offered to take over first watch, a rarity in itself, and Wilson had smiled at him before heading to bed.

There had been a flutter in Max's chest at the tired smile, a slightly wilted flower crown perched on Wilson's head to try and combat the night's effects. He'd tried very hard not to think about it when Wickerbottom came to relieve him of the job halfway through the night, and went to bed with a terrifying realization, then woke up to the start of a nightmare.

Looking back, that wasn't the catalyst of his affections for Wilson, but it was the first time he'd ever noticed that he cared so deeply and that had scared him. It still scared him. There was a awful gut feeling that came along with that, as well as the suffocating flowers that kept killing him.

He ruined things so easily. He ruined his last love, and so Max was fairly certain that even on the off chance Wilson would have returned his feelings, he'd destroy that too. With their last conversation still occasionally on his mind, more the tone then the words... well, at least he couldn't break something that wasn't ever going to happen.

Max shivered again, looking for a good place to set up a fire for the night. - Wilson huffed at he looked at the fracturing of the rock he was trying to break apart. He'd been at this for a while now, trying to get a handle on the anxiety he'd felt the moment he stumbled upon a new skeleton. There wasn't a satchel or anything of note around it. For all he knew, it wasn't one of theirs, just one he'd missed.

Still. Just seeing it made him feel sick. Stupid bloody Maxwell. Vanishing the day after Wilson had seen him die by coughing up flowers. Hanahaki is at least what his mother referred to it as, and he always thought it was a more poetic way of saying 'she died of a broken heart.'

It must have been horrifying for her. It'd been horrifying enough for Wilson. Maxwell's mouth was dripping blood into the pile of dark colored petals as he asphyxiated. He shuddered and picked up his tool again. Why hadn't he just said something? To someone, anyone?

He had to find out by finding the man in the middle of suffocating. On reflection, his words after were maybe a little sharp, but he'd been terrified, worried, and upset Max hadn't even mentioned it when it was affecting everyone else too. Instead, apparently, Maxwell had decided to go pull a vanishing act, and he hadn't been able to find him. Wilson scowled and swung the pick-axe again. It helped, a little. Something to busy the hands and physical enough that afterwords he wouldn't be pacing in anxiety.

He'd talked to Wickerbottom about it in private, just out of the need to confide in someone; she'd looked stunned that out of all the things, he was coughing up evil flowers along with already suffering the normal struggles of the disease. There was the theory that the flower type might be more along the lines of being a flower he used and as bad as they were for sanity, grateful for, seeing as he converted them into the nightmare fuel used to make his clones. That, or it was a direct influence of his use of nightmare fuel. Which didn't bode well for the rest of them, but.. Wilson hadn't seen him summon a clone in a while. And for a long time, was using only one where he before he typically used two.

And then there was the question of pinning, but really, Wilson knew who it was. How could it be for anyone but Miss Charlie. He knew very little about her, but the few times he'd managed anything out of Max about her, there was a level of sad adoration mixed with the rare to see guilt that Max had over it. Just a few glimpses and Wilson knew Max loved her dearly.

It was a little bit frustrating when he realized his own affections for Max ran deeper, but he'd accepted it with ease at the time. That was usually how his life went, there wasn't anything he could do about it; so why bother tying himself up in knots over it?

But he did want to help. Maybe they could figure out a way to ease it so Maxwell didn't keep dying, or something. The story he'd been told by his mother always said there wasn't a cure that didn't also remove the feelings towards the other person, but Wilson couldn't see how that was possible.

There had to be a way. - It wasn't the nicest way to wake up, hacking up his lungs on a straw roll, the last few embers of a fire remaining in the dawn light, but it these days Max was getting used to it. He threw the flowers in the fire, pulling the second gobbler leg from where he'd stored it, using the paper he'd wrapped it in to also fuel the fire before working on cooking the leg to some form of done-ness.

The semi-burned gobbler leg wasn't greatest meal, but it was more filling then just a few charred carrots. And it made him at least feel a bit warmer, though the thermal stone warming up quickly with how close he sat to the fire was probably the real source of it.

Max finally finished with the paltry meal and took the remains of the roll and threw it onto the fire as well, skewering a few green mushroom caps to a stick to roast while the fire started to die again.

It wasn't long until he left, mushrooms wrapped and put gently on the top of his pack, fire smoldering until it would die. He didn't have the time to spend all day here, and the ashes would vanish under the snow. It wouldn't be long until he died again, and Max couldn't help but wonder how many days he had left this time. Not that it truly mattered, with the way things had been going. A close encounter with a terrorbeak that reminded him to try to sleep again, staying up all night wasn't exactly helping his already drastically low sanity.

Maybe it'd be easier to let one of those kill him instead. Bloody, for sure, but it's not like he'd fully remember the pain. He'd been carefully hoarding green and blue mushrooms to keep his sanity and health in check, but maybe it's just be easier to get it over with.

Still, not today. He might not even have a touchstone left, if the map was wrong or, a more likely option, he'd already used it on one of those wonderful times the lot of them were out in the cave. Then he'd be stuck for a while, even with the natural draw of ghosts towards the living. Max doubted that any of them would immediately bring him back, and worse, they'd corner him if they did.

He'd sigh if it wasn't for the pressure against his throat as he had to lean against a tree to hack up the latest batch of petals. Blasted things. He pocketed them to burn, he had plenty of nightmare fuel, and Max figured any trace that would lead to him was best disposed of.

It barely was morning and he was already starting to see faint shadows lurking. Would this keep accelerating until he wouldn't be able to go a few hours without a slew of mushrooms? He thought barely being able to last a day, not to even mention getting through a night was bad enough.

He shuddered and started to cough again, petals littering the icy ground as Max finally managed to stop, breathing hard. Stupid flowers. He winced as the faint shadows seemed to get more solid, and pulled the pack around to fish out his mushrooms. Wouldn't help the pain in his throat, but that was nothing compared to trying to fight off a shadow, and most likely failing.

He hadn't even swallowed when there was a crunch of snow behind him. There hadn't been any howls, so it couldn't be hounds...

Max turned, swallowing the mushroom as he stared at Wilson, who was staring back, before turning and running, a shout to stop behind him. - He'd been pacing around camp again, to the point where even the kids knew something was on his mind and everyone else who was currently in camp was probably ready to throttle him. Wickerbottom certainly looked like it as she calmly told him he might do better burning off that excess energy doing something useful, like chopping more wood, despite the approaching nightfall.

So now, here he was, in the midst of the woods, a small campfire in the clearing burning brightly enough to keep him safe as he started to chop down a tree. Wilson had found himself doing these chores a lot lately, the repetitive motion seemed to help somewhat. His brain was churning as he swung the axe, trying to figure out any sort of way to help Max, if he could get a hold of the man. There at least had to be a way to keep the flowers from affecting everyone else, and keep him from suffocating on them, even if he'd have to live with them.

But there was the biggest problem. Finding him. Wilson had kept an eye out for any sort of sign of Max, from fires and skeletons to just footprints.

He'd seen a few new skeletons when he'd been drug along to gather rabbit fur for new bed rolls and felt his stomach sink at the thought of Max dying alone, suffocating in the snow. Or, another option was him dying to shadow creatures. Another depressing outcome, seeing as he didn't have anyone to even attempt to protect him.

There couldn't be many places to hide, even the longer treks from camp were only a handful of days. Maxwell had to encounter one of them at some point. Wilson listened to the thunk of the tree hitting the ground before he started on breaking up the log. Stars, it didn't help his anxiety that he still was dwelling on what he'd said when he'd revived Max. What if he'd bit back his anger? Maybe he could have actually saved himself all of this frustration and worry.

Wilson huffed and capped his axe in the stump as he started to gather up the leafy branches to fuel his little fire before sitting down. He'd gather the logs and dig up the stump later. Even with all this, even with knowing who was probably at the heart of Maxwell's pining... His chest ached for Maxwell's situation, it probably would ache if Max was just a friend. But it was worse with how much he cared about Max.

He'd accepted that it wasn't going to happen immediately after figuring out his feelings about Maxwell. He'd put it behind him, and enjoyed their stupid arguments until they went too far and the times Maxwell actually was willing to explain about magic instead of being his usual cagey self. The times Max was the voice of reason when they were out exploring, and sometimes, the reverse. They both had a tendency to get in over their heads, but they seemed to also be able to pull one other back when they'd gone too far.

And now he needed to pull Max back and help him, because he was most certainly in over his head.

The fire flickered and Wilson threw another branch into the flames. At least the physical work was exhausting, he needed to eat, but maybe he'd pull his bedroll out and get some rest. That, or he'd end up awake all night thinking. At least he had something more then jerky, though that was also in his pack, but there had been enough in the fridge to make a stuffed eggplant that he was going to have a few morsels with.

Food was always a good distraction, Wilson had to focus on making sure he didn't doze off and drop the morsels into the fire, and the warm, filling meal was certainly enough to make him fairly sure that he could sleep tonight. It wasn't too long until he'd made sure the fire was burning brightly, enough fuel to keep it alive and bright through the night, and spread out the fur roll. As he watched the flames flicker, Wilson had to hope Max was managing to stay alive. Maybe he'd go check around one of the cave entrances in the morning, that had been where the new skeletons had appeared.

That was also the first thought on his mind as he got himself in order for the day, chewing on a piece of jerky as he bundled the logs into the bottom of his pack. It wasn't a walk to look forward to, but he'd would rather a long walk then more pacing and overthinking.

With his axe retrieved, Wilson was just glad they hadn't had another snowstorm. Walking in this was hard enough. The freezing wind was still harsh on his face and fingers, even as he was completely prepped for the cold weather; hat, beard, and vest, along with a thermal stone. He had to turn out of the wind whenever a particularly strong breeze came by to keep his nose and eyes from stinging too badly.

A few hours since sunrise, and Wilson was fairly certain he was about to be out of the woods and into the sparse clearing before a rock field. Maybe once he hit the rocks he'd head back to camp.

All those thoughts went right out the window as he heard a harsh hacking in the distance and it was impossible to mask his footsteps, but as Max came into view Wilson could see him hunched over, shaking against a tree, looking around like he was surrounded. And Wilson had a feeling he might be, as the other turned to grab his bag, a mushroom in hand and soon in mouth as Wilson got closer. He'd been noticed, Wilson knew that as soon as Maxwell suddenly went on the alert and turned to look at him.

What he wasn't expecting was Maxwell to just bolt like a scared animal, not even pausing at a "Wait, stop, Max!" And Wilson followed.

Fully out of the forest and across the clearing and then... down into the caves. They'd both worked to pull out a torch without stopping, the trick to keep them basically strapped to the pack working well, as they lit their way in the dark. This part of the cave didn't seem to have light-bulb flowers, or at least, they were currently withered on the floor.

Wilson suddenly realized that Max had probably been using the caves, that should have been more obvious considering the skeletons. Easier to retrieve your things if you died right above where you'd be reviving. And, considering the chance of unused touchstones down there, despite Max's comments on claustrophobia, it made sense.

Maxwell wasn't stopping, and frankly, Wilson wasn't either. "Maxwell! Seriously, stop, please!" He shouted as they headed down a narrow causeway, and Wilson spied one of their markings on the wall, something Max might have missed in his panic. It was a dead-end. A good thing, logically, at least, but at the same time he didn't want to trap him.

And then there was a rumble from above and Wilson swallowed. Okay, dead end, most certainly not a good thing in a earthquake. "It's a dead end!" He said, trying to be loud enough to be heard over the rumble. Though, it seemed like Max had already hit the end and was against the wall, practically coughing up his lungs.

Even with the rumbling, Wilson still rushed over to Max and gently touched his shoulder with his free hand at first, Max catching his breath before descending into another fit, petals falling into a growing pile at his feet.

All Wilson could do at the moment was rub his back until the fit started to calm again. He hated the helpless feeling in his guts, but what could he realistically do right now? "Do you have any water or anything?" Wilson asked, before really getting a good look at him in the faint torchlight. His eyes were scanning for things that weren't there, it was so bad Wilson was starting to notice faint outlines, and he pushed Max to the floor of the cave before he slid the man's bag off his shoulders. He had a mushroom in his hands earlier, and Wilson hoped he had more.

Which he did, thank the stars, along with one of their water-skins, and Wilson pushed the mushroom at Max first, before scooting away to start a proper fire. There was silence, aside from the occasional rumble. They'd lucked out, nothing like a cave-in, but now here they were, Max now looking away from him, water-skin in hand. The sinking stone of helplessness in his guts got worse, and Wilson tried to at least look reassuring. "You've been gone awhile, you know?" There was just a quiet noise of agreement in Max's throat, and nothing else. So they were going to do this again. Wonderful. - Max leaned his head back against the wall of the cave, cursing everything. Why did it have to be Wilson? Not that it wasn't exceedingly comforting to have someone try to ease the pain, not to mention the fact that it was Wilson of all people, but this was bound to go in a direction he wasn't ready to tread. Wilson had expressed some sort of familiarity with this... from family, if Max could recall correctly. He'd only known it from fairy tales, a more glamorous account really. Rose petals falling from the mouth of a pinning maid for a prince or a knight or something.

If Wilson had a better sense of this then he did, well... this was going to go quite poorly. There was bound to be an inquiry into who.

This 'who' was currently staring at him from aside the fire, evaluating him. Since the last question he barely gave a response to, Wilson was just watching. He just wanted it to be over. Even though the last coughing fit was through, his chest was aching from it, as well as from being confronted with Wilson's care. He didn't deserve it, besides, wasn't Wilson making it worse on himself just being here? Why did he care, Maxwell had been sure to take care to make sure it wasn't any of Wilson's business now.

There was the awful scratchy feeling in the back of his throat and once again he was coughing. Blood came with it this time, the petals were larger, a few full flowers as well. It didn't help Wilson had his hands on his back again, and Max wanted him both to leave and stay right there in equal measure.

His mouth felt awful, like the flowers had managed to slice his cheeks too, with brambles or thorns or something sharp. He tried to hide the shake from exhaustion and once again lowering sanity, enough that things were looking dull even in the bright fire light, and his head ached with it before he looked up at the sound of music ringing in his ears.

"Wil- Higgsbury, the fire." Max's voice was raw but he could see the shadow hand starting to reach out, and Wilson left his side immediately to handle it before coming back, a few mushrooms handed over. A blue one in the mix this time, which was lovely as the green ones had a tendency to make the bleeding in his mouth worse.

It was silent again, and out of the corner of his eye Max watched Wilson weaving a flower crown. He probably needed it after Max had coughed up what looked like a whole ring's worth of flowers. There was that focused, narrowed in on whatever he was doing look on Wilson's face that Max was quite fond of, but he had to look away. It just made his heart hurt worse.

There were footsteps again, and a flower crown settled nicely on top of the awful winter hat Max had needed for warmth. "We're going to head back to camp." Wilson said, there was a insistence in the 'we.' "I'll see if we don't have the immediate supplies for a effigy, if not, I'll make sure there's a heart or two available so you don't have to exist as a ghost if this gets worse." Max finally looked back at him and regretted it. There was a sad smile under all that beard and it almost could have made someone more hopeful believe Wilson might love him back.

The cynic in him said it was because there was something that he was needed for, though that also didn't make much sense, considering the whole everyone's sanity was in jeopardy with these flowers blooming in him. It was probably just was the fact that Wilson had a tendency to help people. After the initial being thrown together in this world and that fistfight, Wilson had extended him a kebab, even after everything.

So it didn't exactly mean much of anything, now did it?

Max just nodded and stood, gathering the petals and throwing the whole lot into the fire. They at least burned nicely when one didn't have much else to do with them. Wilson ignited a torch in the resulting flame and they started back down the pathway. As they walked, he could feel the urge to cough come back and he just swallowed it down. There wasn't the time for that, and even though swallowing down the petals was also a bad idea, it was better then making a scene, even as they got out of the cave and hit snow. It was falling again, and they both shivered at a hard gust of wind.

Still, Max reasoned that if Wilson was dead set on getting back to camp today, they were going to have to walk through this. - Wilson scowled at the shadowy hand as he chased it away from the fire. He couldn't take this, there was a small trickle of blood down Max's lips even. The man looked so out of it, and if he was starting to cough up blood as well, Wilson wasn't sure how much time they'd have until he had to revive him.

Maybe if he could keep Max's health up he'd at least be able to make it back to camp. And something like a flower crown to lower the severe drops in his mental state when he did end up coughing.

He pulled out the mushrooms from his own bag, he'd replenish his stash of them for travels once they hit camp, and passed them over to Max, barely able to look at him. He had to make a meat effigy or something to replace the touchstones, and he didn't have any telltale heart supplies on him right now. Wilson busied his hands with making a flower crown instead. If he needed one, he had a wilting one stashed in his pack, but a fresh one would probably do a world of wonder for Max.

With luck, it wouldn't be more then a few hours of walking back to camp, and they'd hit it before nightfall. Wilson stood with the finished crown and walked over to Max and plopped it over the hat. Stars, he'd laugh at how silly it looked, especially on Maxwell, if it wasn't for everything, and just softly smiled before telling him that they were heading back together to camp, and his plans if Max died on him.

There wasn't much of a response, but Wilson could hardly blame him after that last fit. After lighting a torch, they were off walking, and Wilson couldn't help but keep looking back to make sure Maxwell was still there. That he hadn't run the other way and Wilson would have to chase after him, again.

He would, of course. Maybe back when he was still angry, he would have given up and walked away, but seasons after seasons have passed. While they physically weren't older, the wounds had closed enough that the bitterness gave way to old, buried emotions. Their odd companionship through a radio as he built the portal and Maxwell had talked.

Instead of running, Max followed silently. It was almost surreal to not have some sort of sarcastic commentary or complaint out of the other's mouth, especially once both of them finally exited the cave. The snow was blinding, and Wilson had to blink a few times to adjust to the light refraction off of it. Didn't help that even though it was bright, there was snow falling again, winds starting to whip. He almost had his doubts about getting back to camp, but out of the side of his eye Wilson could see Maxwell swallow hard, and he had to suspect Max was avoiding coughing up petals by forcing them down.

Stars, this man was too stubborn, and while it was at times amusing, at other times it was completely and utterly annoying.

This was the latter, but with another look at the trudge ahead, Wilson sighed and put out the torch. There were bigger things to handle, and he might as well save that for the next time he needed it. "Come on, shouldn't be too hard a walk." He said, barely getting anything in return.

Max was probably feeling awful already, Wilson tried to remind himself. Snapping would make things worse, it certainly didn't help the first time. He stopped himself from sighing and readjusted his satchel on his shoulders, and started on, listening for the footsteps behind him.

They were only maybe an hour in when the snow worsened, and Wilson felt blind as the flakes pummeled his face. He stopped and reached back, waiting until he felt Maxwell bump against his hand. Wilson managed to grope around blindly to find Max's hand. "I need you to tug me to a stop if you need a break," He said over the wind. "I know the way, but I won't be able to see you and I'm not about to leave you behind."

It wasn't easy, navigating through the snowstorm, then he did feel a pull on his hand before it was dropped, and Wilson stepped back to find him. Oh stars, he had to kneel in the snow to find Max on his knees again, and he sounded like he was practically puking up the petals. There wasn't much he could do right now, and Wilson hated to do this but once it sounded like the worst of it was over, he tugged Maxwell up and drug him in the direction he was fairly certain was the woods.

Hopefully, the trees would buffer the wind and Wilson could actually see and make a successful fire. The world was grey, though Wilson was fairly sure that was the snow messing with his sight and not his own sanity.

Just to be sure though, once they were settled, he was going to tuck into the last of his green mushrooms for the both of them. Maybe another blue one for Maxwell.

They had to get deep into the woods for the wind to die to a manageable level, and he winced at the way Max dropped like a rock once he let him go to prep another fire. He didn't get a good look at the man as he heard more coughing, though he did get a quite a good look at the shadows surrounding them. They were completely tangible and Wilson looked back at Maxwell, who was shaking on his hands and knees, a pile of blood stained petals below.

Then the shadows started to notice them, as well.

In a panic, Wilson dug for his axe. Why hadn't he carried a spear? He managed it out just as one got too close for comfort and whacked at it, falling back and hoping to god none of the others took an interest in Max instead of him. - He barely could walk with the shaking panic and intense chest pain as Wilson hoisted him up to get into the woods, much less attempt to look around. Max kept his eyes closed and just tried to keep his legs moving without choking up more of the cursed petals.

Though, once Wilson let go, it was hard to hold back the urge to cough with the wind taken out of him. He couldn't even tell how much blood there was, his vision had gone grey and red, and Max collapsed into the snow, not exactly caring about the implications of his absolutely drained sanity, just trying to breathe. It wasn't often Maxwell had experienced this in full, he usually managed to get some of his sanity back before it got this far, even now, and the headache was almost completely incapacitating mixed with the pain in his chest.

It was freezing, and he hazily wondered if he'd freeze before dying to a shadow if he just laid here, he had to be close to the end of this run anyway.

His eyes were closed, though at one point the headache lessened, and then again. His body still ached, but he could think clearly.

There was only one option as to why the headache was vanishing, and as his eyes opened, closing again at the cold snow right next to his face, the crunch of footsteps in snow approaching him. "Oh stars, please don't be choking to death, Max." Was a mutter.

"I'm alive, I'm alive." Max's throat was raw again, and it ached as he pushed himself out of the snow. There were a few less violent coughs to try and lessen the tightness in his chest, accompanied with a few petals. Still, he managed to get a look at Wilson, who was gripping an axe like his life depended on it, his left shoulder bleeding through the vest. "You should have ran, pal. You don't look too good."

Wilson rolled his eyes, "You don't look or sound that great, either. I'll just count us lucky they decided I was more tempting then you." There was a smile that made Max's chest hurt with more then just the flowers and cold and he looked away as it faded with a wince as Wilson tried to move his injured arm. "I think we'll have to camp out here tonight, maybe the storm will die down by morning. Do you think you can let me know this time before things get that bad?"

It was rare to want to shrink back with shame, but Max almost did before he shook it off, trying to keep up the mask. Wilson was bleeding pretty badly as he walked over to his dropped bag and started to set up a campfire as Max struggled up to join him. "You really should have left me, pal." He mentioned again, watching the flint finally spark to ignite the grass. "I'm already just waiting to die again, would have been easier to just let it happen."

Wilson practically glared at him, and Max looked away from it. "I'm fairly certain you've died more then enough due to this in the last year, Maxwell. I went out to find you, and as much of a stubborn idiot you are, you need help with this." There was silence between them for a few moments, and a sigh. "Pass me your bag, I'll see what we have between us for dinner tonight. I have some jerky, though you always complain about it, and I'm fairly sure I have some mushroom caps left."

"It's fine, Higgsbury." Max's tone was some semblance of dry, though it was ruined by the obvious stress in his vocal cords. He shrugged it off his shoulders and passed it over. "I might have some bandages in there, I didn't end up with many injuries that needed them." At least it'd be something useful in there. He didn't want to touch the topic of Wilson searching for him, for god's sake, this had already been a disaster.

The food was laid out along with the bandages. A small bundle of carrots, a pouch of small strips of jerky, and a pile of mushrooms, a few cooked, a few not. "I think you need the green ones more then I do, and one of the blue mushrooms." Wilson muttered, more to himself as he shrugged off half of the puffy vest and started to peel off the other layers to reach his shoulder.

He might as well be somewhat useful, and even with shaking hands, took the bandage. "Let me help you bandage this then, shoulders are difficult." Max said quietly, wincing at the slightly black tinged bite marks. They certainly left nightmare fuel over everything.

Wilson quietly nodded, and Max wrapped it with practiced ease, they both probably could do this, but it helped ease the shame somewhat.

With it wrapped, Wilson took one of the blue mushrooms and popped it in his mouth while getting the shirt back over the bad arm, less of a wince this time. Max worked on skewering the uncooked green mushrooms and placed the over the fire. It was unnervingly quiet, and with the sun starting to set, Max could tell it was going to be a long night. - It'd been surprising to have Max offer to help bandage up the arm, the man looked like he was about to tilt over, but Wilson wasn't one to refuse help, especially for something as simple as wrapping up a bloody wound. Besides, it was nice to at least get a little bit of care after risking life and limb for him. He'd do it anyway though, stars, how could he leave him to die?

It was quiet, though after the day they've had, he wasn't surprised. He just cooked the carrots and passed over what basically amounted to a few strips of jerky, two carrots, and a handful of roasted green caps, along with one blue mushroom to help with whatever blood loss had happened.

There were a few left for tomorrow, and one green and one blue mushroom for himself, along with the other half of the carrots and jerky. There was shockingly no complain at the jerky from Maxwell. Stars, that alone was indication enough that they both were out of it. Before this, there were times when Max had been bleeding and starving and had still had the audacity to complain about jerky. At least he could shove the fur roll at Max, that should also hopefully keep any more disasters from occurring. At least with the mushrooms, Maxwell already looks a bit more alive, though there's still blood on his face.

Stars, as troublesome as the day had been, Wilson can't help but find comfort in the relative peace of the moment. They're alive, and he has somewhat of a plan, and he isn't worrying about this idiot being alone. Which, geez, under what circumstances right now would he leave Max to die? Wilson couldn't help but be baffled by Maxwell's utterly ridiculous notion that running would have been the proper thing to do.

Frankly, it seemed a little out of sorts for him. Wilson was tempted to ask what was up with that, but considering the whole 'waiting to die' thing, it may have just been a matter of misplaced practicality.

Instead of sighing, Wilson shook his head and ate. Right now, it was pointless. There were things they needed to handle, but while they were alone, trying to get through a snowstorm, and not dying to anything, Wilson was fairly sure a discussion on 'how long have you had it, how fast is the progression now, is there anything you think would help,' would be either have Max running, again, or just a very tense night.

Instead, Wilson threw another log onto the fire and pulled out the bed roll, lightly tossing it over. "I'll handle watch tonight."

Maxwell caught the roll, but frowned in Wilson's direction. "I'm fairly certain you fare worse in the night then I do."

"That was before you got sick, Max. Go to bed. I can handle one night, once we get back to camp we both can sleep." Wilson didn't look at Max, though he had a feeling there was an eye-roll as he could hear shifting. Wilson just didn't want to wake up and have to handle more shadows.

It was silent until he heard a very quite, "Thank you, Wilson." Oh, that was rare. Gratefulness and his first name. Wilson didn't look back, but it did prompt a smile.

"Night, Maxwell." He was looking forward to getting back to camp, at least. Ah, but there was one issue with taking longer to get back, though, now that he thought about it. People would be more awake, people with more questions then Wilson. He didn't want to hear any sort of response to someone being nosy and actually asking. 'So who are you pining over?' Even though he already knew who it was, there was something about hearing it out loud that even the thought of it made his stomach turn.

Why couldn't he fully close the book on this stupid one-sided affection. He knew it was pointless. They made a good team when they weren't fighting, and were now on friendly terms after a fair amount of time as allies with a truce. He'd gotten good at ignoring it, accepting it as a thing that would fade, and maybe he should try to find things like love in more likely places.

And then Max had to get sick and hide it until he just happened to stumbled onto Max in the process of dying. Ran off right after Wilson cut open his arm to revive him, and then Max spent more then a season getting himself killed alone. Wilson had frankly never seen him look so... well, frankly, pathetic and worn out. There was obviously an attempt at keeping up appearances, but he was constantly on high alert, and every coughing fit seemed to take all the life out of him.

Wilson looked behind him and saw Max slightly tucked into himself on the fur roll, snoring. Stars, it was relieving to see him at some form of ease. The night was long, but quiet, and Wilson just tried to relax. - Sunrise came too soon, and while Wilson might have decided to let him rest longer, the sun wasn't as kind, especially not sun that had snow to reflect off of. Even in the denser woods, the sunlight that made it through the trees was magnified by snow.

He groaned in complaint before starting to cough again. Even the less violent coughs hurt, and his throat was not having his attempt at a good morning as he started to work on standing up. It was just a raspy "Good-" before Max winced and didn't finish the statement.

"Morning, Max." Wilson had a bundle of twigs in his hands that he was storing away, possibly fresh tinder. "Just roll up the sleeping mat, we probably should get going before we get too cold." Max really could only nod as he started to wrap the mat up, not wanting to stress his throat worse. "Am I getting the silent treatment today?"

Max could only scowl and pointed at his throat, which prompted a confused look until he managed to mouth 'Hurts to talk.'

Wilson at least had the common sense to look apologetic before glancing away. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. When we get back, there should be some honey stored away, you can make some wildflower tea with honey to soothe it?"

It was a good suggestion, plus, Max hadn't had tea in a long time. Not since before all this flower mess had escalated. Before then, he would make the time to at least once a week to enjoy the warm flowery tea with Ms. Wickerbottom. He'd made a few attempts to do so after he'd started coughing up petals, but eventually he'd just pretended he was too busy so he could avoid choking on these blasted petals in front of her. He made a soft noise of agreement and even that felt like glass in his throat. Oh, the next coughing fit was going to be a grand old time, wasn't it. Drat.

Wilson motioned ahead with his head for them to get going once Maxwell had snagged his bag out of the snow. The walk was unusually quiet which was a shame. Usually, even if he wasn't talking for whatever reason and they were alone and having to gather resources, Wilson would end up on some tangent or another.

It'd been irritating at first, he'd traded the endless ragtime for endless babbling. But, unlike the endlessly looping music, Wilson had many, many things to talk about, and now that they had their truce, the man was eager to have a conversation. With some time, they became enjoyable to listen to. If things were good, Wilson talked about plans, the future, his latest blueprint. If things weren't so good, either mentally or physically, it seemed to go to more general science; medical, chemical, engineering.

Wilson always seemed less sure of himself when things were rocky. Like he had to go back to comfortable, well tread ground. Even if it was just talking about scientific advancements, some of which were quite new to Max. Besides, even if he'd heard it before, and there'd been many a half smile and that sheepish "I know I've probably talked about this before," right before Wilson would launch into whatever was on his mind, these days, Max found it soothing.

With that thought, though, as they pushed through a good few new inches of snow, Max could feel the creeping tickle in the back of his throat and covered his mouth. It at least muffled the hacking noise, enough so that Wilson didn't turn until he didn't hear the crunch of snow behind him.

Max was too busy staring in horror at the absolutely blood soaked plant to notice, he'd felt something big hit his hands and pulled them away. Oh sure, petals were one thing to casually cough up, and he knew there had been more then a few full fledged flowers in the coughing fits he'd had. Never a full plant, roots and all. And typically, while there was plenty of blood, it wasn't so much that he could feel it through the gloves.

He could barely manage a groan, his throat was on fire with pain, almost on par with the constant pain of his chest. He'd gotten used to that, but right now swallowing hurt, even just breathing hurt.

He didn't even notice Wilson next to him, entirely focused on that little plant in his hand. "Are you oka-" There was suddenly silence. - That... that was a full flower in Maxwell's hand. In terms of things he would expect someone to hack up while in the throws of this affliction, Wilson was not expecting a flower with roots and all.

If it wasn't for the snow on the ground, he'd make Maxwell sit so he could check his throat, was this the reason he'd been unable to talk all morning? His eyes darted to Max and back down to the plant. Wilson's stomach twisted at the thought of his first reaction to his sudden inability to talk. The silent treatment. Of course it wasn't that.

"This... hasn't happened before, has it?" He asked quietly, looking back up to Maxwell, who was entirely focused on the flower. It took a second for that to register, before Max shook his head. So, it hadn't happened before, usually Max had managed to die before this.

That... was somewhat horrifying. He'd never heard of the true extent of the disease, and had assumed that his aunt must of been choking like Maxwell was. Wilson barely worried about the blood and picked it up, looking at the roots. There was flesh sticking to them like dirt would if you pulled the flower straight up from the ground.

That was utterly sickening to think about. A flower buried in the flesh of someone's throat or windpipe or worse, the lungs. No wonder this disease was a death sentence.

To distract himself from the reality of this, Wilson delicately put the flower back into Maxwell's hands and gave a shaky smile, more akin to a grimace then a smile, but an attempt at something comforting all the same. "At least you can't choke on this one now." A false bit of comfort, but at least it's out, Wilson figured. The roots aren't too severe either, so hopefully his throat is repairable.

Some honey and maybe instead of wildflower, mandrake tea with it to recover his throat and put him out for the night would be good if they get back to camp. And Wilson would love to be able to scrub this memory from his mind the way that deaths are faded and half there, or not there at all, because Maxwell looks... well, he's pale, even the shade of red his cheeks turned in the cold has become washed out. His hand is shaking, and he can't look away from that damned flower.

It's fear. Maxwell looks honestly and truly scared and frankly, Wilson hasn't ever seen it so clear on Max before. He pressed a hand to Max's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Look, we need to keep moving. Once we get to camp, I'll take a look at your throat." Maxwell looked away from him and the flower and Wilson tried to backtrack, "Or, Wickerbottom can help you. I just..." He trailed off. There was no good way to end that without sounding desperate. "Don't want to see you die like that again." There. That wasn't a really awkward way to finish that statement. It was horrifying the first time, the blue tinge of suffocation, blood...

He didn't need to relive that. It wasn't often that there was a time any of them actually had watched someone die. Battles were distracting, it wasn't often he was able to pay attention to someone in their death throws, and if it wasn't death from a fight, then it was highly likely they all were suffering and it was a quiet, painful thing that no one could help with. If help could be given, it was likely they wouldn't die.

The only time he could really remember just standing back and watching was when he'd put the Divining Rod into the keyhole, but that was... intensely different. He'd still been extremely angry, hurt at the false friendship and companionship his dear 'voice on the radio' had faked, and there had been sick satisfaction underneath the pity for the reality of Maxwell's existence. He'd done enough mercy by turning off the gramophone, which was more of a selfish act, the ragtime tune was annoying enough after just one or two repeats. Then Wilson watched Max die the first time with cold eyes until shadows pulled him under and onto the throne.

He shook his head, getting rid of the memory, and tapped Max's shoulder, the man still not looking at him. "Come on, let's get moving before we freeze to death. We'll get your throat patched up and we can both get some sleep." There was a silent nod, their eyes barely meeting, the bloody flower dropped into the snow. He wanted to do something, watching Max slowly trudge forward, but what could he possibly do right now? Everything feasible... involved getting back to camp. - There was shame as he looked away at the offer of checking on his throat, god, why did he need this. He wanted to just tell Wilson to give up, there wasn't any point to this. But even more shamefully, he wanted the attention too. How pathetic.

Could something just kill him now? His face burned at the bare minimum admittance of not wanting to see him die again. Of course any sane human being would rather not see any of their companions die. And yet that little scrap was enough to probably make his cheeks look terribly windburned.

After the tap to his shoulder reminding him they had places to be, he let the bloody flower drop to the snow and managed to trudge forward. Minus a few coughing fits, there was still a strange silence between them as they approached camp, even in the calf deep snow, he could still see bush branches picked clean of berries.

To be fair, the silence was half due to his own throat, but he'd have liked something still. Even just the noise of Wilson muttering to himself about things; there was that habit too. Talking to himself, a whole conversation out of one person.

Instead, their walk, which ended just as dusk began, was as muted as everything else in the snow covered world.

The first words he's heard since their conversation out in the snow was of course, "Hey, you found ol' tall nerd!" Willow smirked, arms full of wood for a fire that was starting to wane in the distance.

"Yeah, I sure did." Wilson's voice has forced humor in it, and Max frowned, looking away from them both. "We got caught out in that storm last night... I think we both just need some sleep, you know?" He gives a forced chuckle and Max closed his eyes, ignoring the growing knot in his guts.

"Is something eating Maxwell, or has he finally learned to not inject a smart comment every time he's near a conversation?"

He tries to respond with 'A skill you need to learn, certainly.' But he barely makes a noise before wincing, time hadn't helped his throat.

"Leave him be, Willow, he's not feeling well." Wilson's defense softens the frown, and then Wilson turns back to Max, startling him, but Wilson gives half a smile. "We're both really tired, anyway." He turned back to Willow. "Have all the other tents been taken over yet, or is one still available for Max to use?"

Willow snorts and shakes her head, possible disbelief, or just that there isn't a free tent. "Yeah, yeah, you know we've had the extra tent up in case he showed back up. Go sleep, you both look dead." It's a fairly tame reaction, and there's suddenly a warm arm around his back, moving him towards the bank of tents. "Thanks, Willow. Have a good night."

"A good night? I'm on a watch shift that's suppose to be yours." Willow laughs. "I'll see you in the morning." Wilson softly laughs at her words, and there's a quiet thank you from him as they end up out of her earshot.

Wilson looks up, "Look, you settle in and I'll see if there's any mandrakes... if not, I'll make you some wildflower tea with honey." Max can't help the shake of his head, he doesn't need the fussing over him. "Don't give me that, you can barely make a noise without wincing. Let me help you with this, please." There's a stress on the please that makes his shoulders sag and Maxwell sighs, nodding along, the shame back as Wilson gave a tiny smile and patted his back before leaving for the crock pots and food stash.

It's obvious which of the tents is the extra one, there's still snow at the entrance, instead of it being treaded down or shoveled away. Still, it's better then a straw roll, and in the dim light of the setting sun and the faint firelight, Max shoves the snow away from the entrance of the tent with his foot and he finally crawls in. There's a fur roll, and a lantern. He shoves off his pack and sits, exhaling and glancing around.

It's odd to be back in camp. It's also incredibly weird to hear the muted rabble, but it's soothing too, it's not just the slight chatter of birds, nor the empty silence of the caves.

Maxwell finally moves to spread out the fur roll and peels off his outer layers and bloody gloves, the hat bringing the flower crown with it as he started to cough, wincing as he looked at the small handful of bloody petals, throat practically throbbing with pain.

Still, wouldn't do to bleed over his bed, and he uses his clean hand to pull some of the used paper out of his bag and wraps the petals and wipes most of the blood off of his hand. - He'd been accosted as he dug through the icebox. "Wilson, you certainly don't look like you need a mandrake..."

At least it was only Ms. Wickerbottom. "It's not for me, I'm shocked Willow hasn't spread the news." He deadpanned, then followed with the actual info. "I found Max. He isn't able to speak at the moment, so I thought maybe mandrake tea would heal his throat up."

There was a hum of understanding, and he was about to continue on before she spoke up. "While I think it's a valiant cause, I can't help but wonder if it's worth it." Wilson freezes and Wickerbottom sighs. "He's going to die again with this aliment. You can't hold it off forever. You do know the full extent of damage it can do to the body, correct?"

"Well, considering it was never covered in any of my medical texts, I probably don't." Wilson sighed and closed the icebox door. He certainly didn't, thinking of Max's ashen face and that flower in the man's hands.

"Flowers typically start to sprout through and destroy organs, the heart and lungs in particular. The lucky ones choke to death before that happens." She sighed again. "It's not something you can just treat the symptoms of. And Wilson?" There's a pause, silence between them, her voice quiet, even though they're not around anyone else. "Don't let your own feelings cause you to get sick as well."

He blinks, a tinge of fear that everyone knows, and to be fair, maybe his pacing was a little obvious... "It's not like that." He manages, voice a little strained. "I'd do this if someone else was sick like this too." And well, that's... mostly true. He's trying not to pine, at the very least. And he would help, if someone like Wigfrid or Willow was this sick... well... maybe not quite so personally. Please, don't let the whole camp have this figured out, and stars forbid that Maxwell already knew.

There's a curious look on her face as she glances over him. "Well, the point still stands, don't let yourself ever get to the point our dear Maxwell has. Don't let your heart get you sick." There's a glance at the mandrake too. "Maybe try wildflower first, before you go and use a mandrake on him. But get some sleep afterwards." Wickerbottom smiled and turned to leave, and Wilson couldn't make a real smile back, but he tried, even with worry burrowing into his stomach.

He stuffed the mandrake back into the ice chest and took just the honey. There were dried petals in a chest near their water-pot, which just needed a fire underneath to be lit, and Wilson found the makeshift infuser, strips from twigs woven into a netted basket.

Once the water boiled, he took the chipped cup and filled it with hot water, honey and a filled infuser and headed to the tents. There was almost no activity, but to be fair, in this weather, everyone would probably want to go to bed if they didn't have watch. Wickerbottom is probably taking a shift as always, but she'll even go curl up in a tent to warm up and read after someone else wakes up for their watch shift.

Poor Willow. He'd forgotten that he was supposed to have a shift tonight, fueling the fire and keeping an ear out for hounds or a giant, but he'd found Max, and that felt far more important then remembering to get back in time for watch. Even if the man's presence felt a bit draining due to the dark petals, Wilson was far more settled knowing where he was, he couldn't help the petals. Maxwell surprisingly had it far worse then they did.

Max being laid low so easily by coughing up dark petals was... strange to see. While most certainly not as physically durable as the rest of them, Maxwell weathered plenty of things that mentally took it out on the rest of them.

Wilson hummed, glad for the warmth in his hands as he eyed the one tent that didn't have much snow brushed away from the entrance and opened the flap. Maxwell blinked in surprise and Wilson offered a weak smile, noticing the smear of blood on the other's mouth, before offering the cup. "It's wildflower, and if it doesn't help, I'll make you some mandrake tea in the morning."

It was taken with a tiny nod, and Wilson couldn't help lingering for a few seconds. Irrational, Maxwell's pride would never let him ask for help, or much of anything. Oh, he complained about meaningless things, but complaints weren't requests. It left Wilson feeling like he was clumsily hovering, and with one more glance, Maxwell gently blowing on the hot tea, not even looking at him, Wilson managed an awkward "Good night," and left.

He sighed once he reached the entrance to his own tent. He was rather transparent, wasn't he? Though, he should be thankful no one else has brought it up, at least to his face.

At least the tent was reasonably warm, he considered, settling down and pulling out a razor. It'd be a hit to conserving warmth, but they were out of the supplies for a new effigy, he'd checked before making tea, and he was not about to try and get close enough to the rock bottom of his sanity to find beardlings. He'd just have to carry extra fire supplies and keep better track of his thermal stone.

It was cold the moment Wilson had a pile of hair at the side and a clean-shaven face. He rubs at a tiny cut on his face in irritation and looks at the flint razor. Needed to be sharpened again, there were nicks in the knapped edge. Still, the job was done and Wilson grabbed the quilt stuffed with beefalo and rabbit fur and bundled up.

Sleep would take a while to come, as exhausted as he was, Wilson figured. Worry always nestled deep and kept him up. Worry about what he was doing with his life, worry about not managing to make anything out of his degree, out of his passion.

Now it was worry regarding how utterly transparent he must be.

How stupid. Everything in his life was an absolute failure anyway. Wilson sighed and turned over. The eldest of his siblings, and most certainly the failure in his parents eyes. They'd hated his over-enthusiastic pursuit of science, they'd pushed him into medicine because at least that was useful. Instead of becoming a doctor or a surgeon though, he'd stayed in academia for a while.

Then, before he finished that pursuit, only one degree under his belt, he'd left to do research on his own. He'd been exhausted of doing other people's research for them. And he was a failure of a scientist, really, after studying so hard, and for so long. The temptation of maybe, just maybe, learning something that would benefit not just him, but everyone, was too much.

This is where that had landed him. A sad, stupid scientist, pinning over a sad, stupid magician who'd been the one to land him in this mess. It was pinning. He'd just have to be honest with himself. A fondness he couldn't eradicate. Oh, he'd been fond of people before, men and women alike, but it faded with time or new knowledge. Maxwell was... an odd case. An outlier in some ways. He'd hated him for a while. He'd tricked him, damn it.

Granted, he doubted Maxwell had fully been in control on the Throne, but at the time, it was all on Maxwell.

Minus the impatience at the end... Maxwell had managed to make himself quite the companion during their first encounter, Wilson making the portal and Maxwell doing what he did best, talking. Encouragement, praise, swapping stories and jokes. A comforting, enjoyable voice on the radio. Then it was gone. Instead, the once warm voice was cold and he was in this hell. A broken, bitter heart, Maxwell was a devil, an asshole, and a right pain in the ass.

The second portal they built, their every interaction was strained. He could remember the manic energy between them though, excitement at an attempt at leaving. The thrill of learning. Not much, sadly as much as Maxwell was willing to teach him what was needed, he didn't have hands on time with the codex alone. A few strained jokes but mostly work and arguments and they'd been so close to what was hopefully success before Ms. Charlie intervened.

It was still a good result. Instead of the two of them arguing alone for eternity, it'd been other people, other lonely survivors. A gift in itself, even if he'd never been the kind of person who was overtly social, the time he'd spent alone here had made him crave company even more then his self imposed isolation in the woods.

Not that Maxwell wasn't company. Even at the end of that whole project, things were starting to mend, but it was better to not always handle that bundle of emotions that came with Maxwell. Though, he had, frequently. Forever prickly, sharp barbs and a ego that was out of check just enough now-days to get under anyone's skin who wasn't used to it. Maxwell was more often his companion on excursions then not.

It wasn't always bad. Sometimes it was absolutely insufferable, that had been early on, but now he'd just ramble about thoughts and plans, or what he found interesting and frankly, it was mostly because it never seemed like Maxwell was listening, considering the fact that there never was a 'would you shut up, Higgsbury' that he had been expecting. Max didn't care, and so it gave him the space to just talk things out to himself, Then, one day Maxwell chipped in with, "Hm, I'd never considered that."

He'd frozen in his spot and after a few moments of realizing that Maxwell had been listening, either for once, or he always had been, it branched into a discussion. He didn't always chime in, but Maxwell was listening, and yet didn't deride him for the overenthusiastic chatter. It was nice. More then nice, it was flattering that he actually paid attention. Wilson figured Maxwell zoned out most of the time.

Oh, why was he thinking over all of this now. Wilson sighed, cheeks red and turned over in the blanket. Why couldn't he just forget the little things and go back to hating the man instead of worrying over him and worrying about the fact that he might be considerably obvious about his feelings towards Maxwell? He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and closed his eyes, mentally chastising himself for focusing on this so much. Maxwell was always just going to be a companion, and he was going to help him out because he wanted to see him better.

And that was that. - He'd figured Wilson left immediately, but apparently not. He would have said it back, but his throat was a barrier there. He'd nodded, but it seemed like Wilson hadn't seen. No matter. Wilson was probably far more exhausted, he'd fought off shadows and still hadn't slept. The man needed the sleep.

The tea was warm against his cooling hands, and Maxwell sighed, gently spinning the cup to make the infuser swirl slightly. It smelled comforting, vaguely flowery. Herbal teas had never been his favorites back when he had a choice, but he was not going to complain about that now. There were so many flavours that were faintly in his memories that he missed, it was pointless to think about them, though black tea always came to mind when having tea. Still, he took a tiny sip, the liquid still too hot really, but there was the slight sweetness of the honey, and while not perfect it did seem to help. Breathing didn't hurt quite so much.

A few more moments, and the heat was more in his hands then in the cup. The drink was wonderfully warm though, and that was pleasant. Max noticed he was a bit hungry, now that the drink had slightly soother the painful ache in his throat but that could be handled later. Even though he was hungry, he winced at the idea of swallowing much more then the tea.

Oh well. An empty cup, and he tried to murmur out something, trying to regain his voice, but instead all he felt was something tear and the pain was far, far worse as he started to cough.

So much for keeping blood off his bedding. Another full plant, flesh stuck to the roots , and besides intense pain, any attempt at talking was just breath.

All he could taste was copper, and he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand, a huge smear of blood along it, and he barely could manage a huff as he looked at how vibrant the blood was to anything else. Food, or mushrooms, weren’t going to be an option then, his throat wouldn't allow it. He needed to sleep, though Max really doubted he would manage to sleep through the pain, he was never great with sleep anyway. Last night had been rare, exhaustion sleep wasn’t fully refreshing, but he’d slept harder then he had in a while.

God. He wouldn't be surprised if he died in the night, really. As grim as it was, he almost would rather choking to death instead right now. He wondered if there were more of those in his throat, as he pitched the flower to the side. It was smaller then the last, but the roots were long. Probably were, considering his luck.

He flipped the roll over, to the side that wasn’t bloody, and settled in, ignoring the blood on his hand, he didn’t have time, and he was not in any shape to handle another bout of shadows, not to mention the mere idea of the rest of camp having to fare with that, he already wasn’t a welcome member of the group. Still, it was nicer to hear people around, even while he was in pain, as Maxwell closed his eyes and tried to rest. - Morning comes, and Wilson burrowed more into the blankets. Stars, did morning have to be so obnoxious? At least no one else had woken him up, it was just the natural timing he’d developed, but why today?

He wasn’t ready to face today yet. Head somehow still managing to swim with worries and thoughts and memories that made his chest hurt if he thought too hard about them. “Damn it, get yourself together.” He grumbled to himself as he finally unwound himself from the cocoon of blanket. “Go check on him, and then do something else for a few hours.” He muttered to himself, even if he had no idea what else to do.

Chop more wood, maybe. Though now he wasn’t sure if that would actually work with Maxwell back with them and not out alone in the wilderness. Still, it was worth a shot, maybe work would clear his head and ease the ache in his chest. Besides, at least then no one would say he was hovering.

He glanced at the pile of hair and sighed. Well, that came first, didn’t it. Check on Maxwell, help him get a meat effigy set up, then go chop wood.

It was a plan, at least. With a extra check to make sure he had a well repaired vest and hat, even though he knew he’d just patched them up before the last few days, it never hurt to check again, he pulled them on and snagged his satchel with a blue heat stone. He’d replace one of the fresh ones at the fire with his. Well, he got to the fire and set the stone down before he heard harsh hacking.

There was only one person it could even remotely be and he didn’t even grab a fresh stone before heading over to the tent he’d left so abruptly the night before. “Oh, stars…” Wilson managed as he pulled back the canvas. There was a lot of blood, some of it must have been from last night, brown and dried, though there was far more fresh, staining the white fur and some of the ground, but most of all it covered the man’s mouth, at least what he could see of it, an uncovered hand covering his mouth, dried blood on the back of it.

Wilson didn’t have any more words at his disposal, there was just the sinking pit in his stomach at the other little details. The pale, drained look to his face, teary eyes darting around before another horrible cough wracked his shaking body. There was absolutely nothing he could do at the moment.

It felt like there was nothing he could do, period.

All his determination fell away, and Wilson only felt helpless as he finally entered the tent, kneeling down and only then did he notice the discarded flower crown, still encircling the woolen hat. With his own shaking hands, he settled it back onto Maxwell’s head. A effigy would literally kill Maxwell at this point. So much for that.

His voice felt dis-attached and far too quiet to really be his. “I guess I can’t fix this, can I?” It was a sad approximation of sarcasm, his hand on Maxwell’s back.

“I’m sorry.” - He’d slept. Somehow. Maxwell wasn’t going to look too deeply into it, and it was frankly hard to think too deeply about it when his throat wasn’t working. He must have passed out. Everything since coughing up the last flower had been somewhat a blur. He could believe passing out with how much he wanted to pass out right now.

It hurt to breathe. The slightest bit of air going to or out of his lungs was misery, not to mention the involuntary swallow when he woke up. There were tears budding in his eyes, if it wasn’t for the lack of voice, Maxwell would probably be unable to hold back any sort of noise from the pain that just existing was granting him at the moment.

And then the coughing started up again. Oh, he was most certainly near the end. Hopefully he wouldn’t recall this. It was a stupid hope, knowing his luck, but Maxwell could go for just a bit of mercy right now.

Not that he was going to get much mercy from this disease when it seemed like it tore his throat apart again. If he was going to ever use this tent again, he’d have to burn this poor fur roll, but he covered his mouth anyway. Maxwell tried to breathe again, but after a brief, painful inhale, the cough started up again.

It was around this time that there was a rustling he couldn’t fully pay attention to, frankly, he was surprised that there wasn’t a crowd growing. Instead, the familiar oath of stars told him exactly who it was, but there was no energy to even try and turn away, shadows flitting past his vision as he started another fit, petals spilling from his lips as readily as the blood.

He didn’t feel the crown, though he was vaguely aware of the hand, and the barest thought of ‘Why do you go through this, do you pity me that much?’ flashed by before it was overtaken by pain, once again. - “I’m so sorry.”

Wilson stayed until the end, trying to at least be comforting; he didn’t know what else to do. He choked on blood, mercifully enough. Grotesque business, and Maxwell wouldn’t remember it, but he couldn’t find it in him to leave until he saw the ghostly shadow that death left now. “I’ll take care of it, don’t go running off.” There was a quiet wind noise that these shades could produce, and it wasn’t like he’d have any memory of the events after he woke up again, But he also just didn’t want to deal with chasing down a damned ghost.

The man was stubborn enough to manage to even do that in death if he didn’t warn him off the mere idea. Exhausted; emotionally, and somehow physically, Wilson picked himself up and walked out of the tent to wash up and prepare the heart. There should be some spider glands in one of these chests, if not, he’d have to ask Webber where the nearest un-befriended nest was to avoid killing any of the young child’s spider friends. There was a bit of blood on his clothing, that he finally noticed at the worst time, just as he ran into a bleary eyed Winona. “Mornin’ egghea- what’s with the blood.” It went from a tired mutter to alert at the sign of fresh blood.

Wilson sighed, pressing the clean hand over his eye, the other covered with specs of blood. “Nothing you need to worry about, I just have to do some clean up and make a telltale heart.” To be specific, he needed to burn that roll and break up the skeleton and dispose of it properly. Stars, he was so drained from all this. It was heart wrenching and taxing all at once to try and comfort someone in their death throws. To comfort someone you loved while they were dying. “Someone die?” She asked, looking over him.

Wilson sighed. He was well aware of the vague contention between Winona and Maxwell, and that it revolved around Charlie of all people, because Maxwell had loved her, and she was Winona’s sister. “Maxwell’s still sick, I found him a couple of days ago and brought him back to camp. He died this morning.”

There was a light frown. “Ah. Right. Remember you talking about petals and choking a while back. 'Maxy’ can’t even bother to care about her now.” Oh stars. He didn't need this.

“How are you so sure he isn’t sick over her?” Wilson said back, already exhausted. There wasn’t anyone else it could be, and he shook his head. “Never mind. I have to handle this.”

Winona shook her head. “They were a couple, at least briefly. They were going on vacation together, to our family’s cabin. You don’t do that if you aren’t at least somewhat romantically entangled. She was so syrupy over that idiot, and look where it landed her.” He did somewhat understand her anger, but honestly? He wanted to get this done, set Maxwell up with a effigy, and go to bed. “So it can’t be her. He’s fallen in love with someone else.” She rolled her eyes and waved it off. “It doesn’t matter, she’s better off without him anyway.”

He hummed sightly in acknowledgement and left with a nod. He wasn’t going to argue about it, it made him sick to think about anyway. He was sick enough after having to let Max pass away in his grip once again. He didn't need to overthink the obvious.

Maybe something was giving him a break, there were spider glands in the medical supplies, and Wilson sighed a breath of relief as he gathered the rest of the materials, along with a flint knife and a booster shot. He’d make it after he cleaned out that tent, there was too much bone and blood to really want to revive someone who also was probably going to just collapse in a heap.

Surprisingly, the ghost was actually listening, still in the tent, though Wilson wouldn’t doubt part of that was also the man’s pride also managing to linger. He was shocked everyone else wasn’t reacting to the lingering presence, ghosts tended to do a bit of number over time.

Wilson was already planning on something warm and mentally healing, after this whole fiasco. Maybe after a nap, however.

“Ooo?” A more audible variation of ghost noises.

Wilson shook his head. “Need to get rid of the blood soaked things first, then I’ll get it made. I already know what your reaction would be to reviving and then dealing with your own skeleton. It’ll save both of us some bitching.”

Oh, even dead he could assume there was an eye roll there. Stars, Maxwell. It was normal enough though that it actually managed a small smile onto Wilson’s face as he quickly smashed the skeleton to bits and gathered it all up in the ruined bed mat. “Can you be patient for once, or is that just not feasible?” Somehow, the next “Ooo” managed to sound indignant. Wilson shook his head in actual amusement as he took the mess outside.

“Did he not survive the night?” Wilson’s back shot up, as much as he knew exactly who it was, stars, he could do without being snuck up on. Instead, he turned, the bone shards clinking against each other.

“He did, Ma'am, just didn’t survive the morning.” Wilson shook his head, tired. He really didn’t want to go through this again. “Just handling clearing up the mess it left before I revive him. I promised him I’d help.” Well, more like he’d promised himself.

She sighed, a sad smile on her face. “You do certainly care about him. I checked in on him before I went to get warm, he seemed to be sleeping fine. I’m sorry that I didn’t check this morning.”

He winced slightly, at least no one else had stumbled in. It was easier when there wasn't a crowd. “It’s okay, I mean, I think I’m the only one who knew he’s been coughing up a lot of blood. Should have seen it coming.” He gestured to the blood stained disaster he was holding. “I need to handle this.”

She nodded. “I need to make myself some breakfast, I’ll make you something as well, you probably need it.”

His shoulders finally relaxed. There was something off his plate. “Thank you. I’ll get this finished up, and get him on his feet.” She waved him off and he went to dispose of the bone. They kept a pile of them to pulverize and use in the gardens during the growing months, the bone meal was a decent fertilizer. After dumping those off, he tossed the ruined mat into the flames, finally taking a few moments to warm up. He wasn’t freezing, but now that he had a second to himself, Wilson knew he was losing body heat at a decent pace, considering he’d lost the beard.

So, he took the time to sit and put together the heart, might as well not add more blood to the ground near Maxwell’s tent. Wilson winced as he sliced his arm open and held it over the tied up glands. It started to beat and he waited til his arm started to scab over before picking it up.

At least now he hopefully wouldn’t be coughing up blood for a few days. - Telltale hearts always left him a touch disoriented for a few moments. Maxwell blinked, brain slowly managing through the fog that death always left. Wilson had lead him back, Willow having a smart comment about the silence, and a warm hand guiding him to the tent. A welcome cup of tea, as weird as it felt to have someone take care of him, and then a coughing fit, and that's when it got hazy. "-ell, are you alright?"

Oh. Right.

This death had left him in enough of a haze he wasn't even fully aware of the world yet. Instead, he nodded and winced as he sat up, seeing the syringe in Wilson's hand, his own sleeve already rolled up. Even though logically, he knew they worked, Maxwell's hand went to his other arm defensively.

"Don't be stubborn about this. Honestly. You're in enough of a bad shape as it is." Wilson murmured. He gave a few tired glances over the other finally, the fog still slowly lifting. There was a smattering of blood on him, and considering they hadn't been back too long, must have been his.

That was an uneasy feeling. Why did Wilson keep doing this? There wasn't a good reason to. He was just going to keep wasting resources and time, because even if there was a smattering of hope that it was returned, he'd just ruin it. So he wasn't going to pursue it. Maxwell knew he would only destroy the few scraps of goodness he'd find.

Like everything else. Like Char- he had to stop thinking about this. He had to live with it, suck it up and just keep going. Maybe someday, he'd get to make it up to her.

"No one likes injecting themselves with th-" Maxwell stopped mid sentence, the hand holding his arm going to the throat, touching it lightly. It still hurt, yes, but it wasn't the mess it had been the morning before, even; not to mention the rest of the day. "Well, that's better certai-" He winced as Wilson took the opening.

There was a smug look as the spent needle was pulled away. A smug look that he actually liked, heavens help him. "Was that so bad?" The man mentioned, putting it on the ground. "Glad to see you're able to speak again, though. I was worried that whatever damage was done might need more repair then just revival." Why was he worried, what was even the bloody point, Higgsbury? No one else seemed to go to these lengths.

Though... if he remembered right, Wilson had mentioned family with this. It was probably just misguided pity, knowing the horror it wrought, thinking that he could fix this. Sounded about right for Wilson, man could never deny wanting to puzzle over a problem, even if his solutions were unconventional or faulty. "Max?" Oh, he'd never replied. "Resurrection haze?" Was a gentle question, which made sense. Out of all of them, Wilson seemed to have a higher chance to lose full days if it was a traumatic death, and would get lost in his thoughts for hours, picking apart what he could remember so he could finish whatever he'd been up to.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He brushed it off, looking away. Heavens help him, Wilson was giving him that concerned look that would almost give him the impression that there was something more there. "Probably just shock from that awful concoction."

Wilson snorted at that at least. He couldn't tell if it was amusement or irritation, but he'd take it over that look. He was not a hopeful man, but sometimes Wilson tested that. "It keeps you alive longer, I guess it has be awful." Wilson smirked before getting up. "I need to go eat, but if you wanted to come warm up, you aren't stuck in your tent."

Maxwell tried not to flush. It was absolutely not what he was imagining, and he must still be out of sorts from reviving because he had usually had far better self control then to let himself fantasize about cuddling or anything.

Why break what was left of his heart more?

"M-maybe," Oh heavens, he stuttered, and attempted to save face with a more usual infliction to his voice. "Hopefully I won't end up muted today, though I'm sure that will be big hit with everyone." Instead of dwelling on the wanted and yet unneeded thought, he felt the ground underneath him, just the lay of canvas that they used to keep their bed rolls from picking up dirt and twigs. "Seems like I'll have to replace my bedroll, before I can sleep."

"Believe me, you wouldn't want to sleep on that thing. It was soaked in blood. Anyway, you can handle that after we get a effigy made for you later." Ah, that gave him more of an idea of how he died. Probably bled out from an internal throat injury and coughed up a good potion of blood. "If you do need something, let me know, I'm going to go warm up."

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problematiquehomos · 6 years

Text

Ugh gyns I’m literally McWhipped for this girl who might not even like me back. She lent me 2 of her hoodies a couple weeks ago and I still have them and they smell like her and every time I wear them I feel like a fuckin sappy dumbass idiot cuz they smell like marshmallows since SHE smells like marshmallows and I love it :(((

But like I don’t know if she likes me back??? Cuz I feel like lately she’s been dropping hints that she either A. doesn’t like me or B. likes me but isn’t ready for a relationship rn and I’m totally fine with either, like I’m not blaming her at all if she doesn’t like me cuz I’m not a fucking straight man and I hate that I feel the need to clarify that ANYWAY

I just wish I knew whether or not she does or doesn’t like me. It would just make things a lot easier. Cuz like I said sometimes she makes me think she’s into me and then other times she does a complete 180° and I’m just a big ol confused lesbian. She’s so fucking chill and funny and adorable and GOD I’m more whipped than Philadelphia cream cheese spread

- eat pussy xoxo blog crater

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