#once again it ran away from me

[yuanology]

m!reader fingering afab!geto while being 100% aware gojo's watching through the crack of the door so he decides to show gojo how sensitive his friend is and geto ends up squirting?? (lowkey embarrassed i wrote this, but yknow ignore it if you want😅)

what the Fuck .

gojo satoru was not a virtuous man. far from it, in fact. as a self-made god, satoru existed on a plane far above morality and whatever other human concept was created to define right and wrong. within infinity and the insurmountable power residing in it, there was only the man who wielded it and the humanity confining it.

even so, satoru still knew deep within his heart—the trembling, still beating thing residing underneath the constricts of his ribs—that he should not be doing this; that he should not be staying.

but satoru was not a virtuous man, and so he stayed.

because there, past the thin crack of the door, was his best friend—the same one he had known from childhood, the same one who had walked with him through the ins and outs of darkness—with his clothes stripped clean, thrown messily around the room, both of his feet planted flat on the bed, and his back arching off the mattress in a pleasured arch. between his legs, slick and heavy with evidence of his own debauchery, stood you—fully dressed, only the first two buttons of your collar open.

satoru knew of you. it was impossible not to. you were older than the both of them. when they were freshly entering their first year, you'd already matured where you existed in your third one. satoru himself had barely spared you a glance but in retrospect, he did remember suguru mentioning once or twice that he was training with you on the side.

fuck, satoru thought, dazed. if he had known this was what 'training' involved, he would have listened a bit better on what suguru had to say about you.

because you were holding his thighs apart, well-practiced fingers relentlessly pushing past suguru's slick folds, producing the loudest squelching noises. satoru couldn't see very well from this angle, but he could hear the sounds his best friend was making; fucked up and high-pitched, whiney in a way satoru had never heard him speak before.

suguru cried out your name, breathless and panting. "please," he was begging you, sounding close to tears. "please, no more."

you leaned in, mouth brushing over suguru's chest as you whispered your response. satoru couldn't hear you, even as his ears strained to catch a wisp of your words. but whatever it was, it must not be good because suguru is letting out a loud whine, one the turned into the strangled beginnings of a scream when satoru noticed that you had begun to pick up pace.

oh my god.

just as satoru took the first hesitant half step backwards, swaying in place, he hears your drawled out voice—cutting, brave, unyielding.

"now, where do you think you're going, satoru?"

satoru stiffened, and he realised that he wasn't the only one. suguru did, too—his body locking up as a new flush crawled across his skin. satoru had half the mind to apologise to his best friend in his head, a chant of i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msuchashittyfriend looping in his head as if it could forgive him for not only being a pervert, but also for intruding on his best friend's secret.

satoru cleared his throat. he wanted to make an excuse, to apologise, but all that could tumble out of his throat was a hoarse, "um."

suguru let out a high whine at the sound of satoru's voice, as if he was spurred on by his audience. his back arched, his mouth parting as a deep sound escaped him. satoru watched, mesmerised, as the muscle on suguru's body rippled at the motion, your hands never once faltering in its ministrations.

"come here for a minute, satoru." your voice was calm, collected and almost clinical. as if you didn't practically have your entire fist buried in between suguru's slick folds, your thumb nudging at where satoru guessed must be suguru's clit if suguru's high pitched whimpers were anything to go by. "i need your opinion on something."

satoru swallowed thickly as he was drawn into the room, his motions dumb as if he was a mere puppet on your string. as he moved closer, he realised that there was more to the scene that he couldn't earlier see from his post by the door.

suguru's cunt was fucking drooling, slick dripping all over the place as his hips canted in the air as if to escape and to move closer to the pleasure. his hole would no doubt he gaping if you pulled your hand out, hungry for more. your thumb covered his clit wholly, rubbing at it mercilessly.

satoru felt himself twitching in his pants, throat working around the words stuck in his lungs.

"what do you need?" satoru asked, his voice wrecked. he would be embarrassed by it if it wasn't promptly drowned out by the sound of suguru's choked out noises.

without thinking, satoru moved a hand to rest on suguru's thigh, at the sight of his best friend in distress. he didn't realise what a great mistake it was until suguru did a full body shudder, a ragged gasp leaving him. satoru couldn't fucking breathe.

clearly, you didn't share the same sentiment because you were speaking again. "suguru wants me to stop, but i personally think he can come one more time," you said casually, as if this was a common conversation to have with just about anyone.

suguru let out a weak whimper, pathetic and desperate in a way satoru never knew him to be, at the sound of your words. you must have been trying to convince him about this for a while then.

stiffly, satoru nodded, not quite knowing how to react. "okay," he said dumbly.

he wasn't looking at you, too entranced by the sight of suguru with his legs spread wide open and his messy cunt being on full display, but he could hear the smile in your voice when you said, "well, what do you think? can he come one more time?"

satoru opened his mouth, a half-baked answer on the tip of his tongue, when he was interrupted by the sound of suguru's babbling.

"no. no, please. no more." there were tears in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks prettily, satoru noticed. suguru looked a mess, his hair a halo around his head and his hips lifted in the air as if he was nothing more than a cheap whore. satoru thought he was beautiful. "please. i can't. don't make me. please, please, please, pl—"

his words promptly turned into a loud scream, half-pained and half-pleasured, and satoru's head whipped around to look at the source of it. he swallowed thickly when his eyes dropped from suguru's face to his engorged clit, where your thumb was no longer rubbing at but rather, your earlier free hand was now gently tugging at the hood over it.

holy shit, satoru thought, his head spinning. because he just watched you pinch suguru's clit. you pinched suguru's clit. judging from the nonchalance of your gesture and the way suguru didn't try to fight back, instead canting his hips higher, this was something that you did often.

satoru was going to die. holy shit.

"shh, suguru," you reprimanded, silencing suguru's desperate sobs with a gentle pat to his thigh. suguru sniffled, but he stopped letting out those depressing sounds. "it's not you i'm talking to."

suddenly reminded that he owed you the debt of an answer, he blurted out an answer before he could think twice. "he can," satoru replied. "he's an overachiever, the dumbass. he can come another time."

suguru let out a loud sob at his answer, one that sounded a lot like betrayal.

satoru couldn't properly apologise to him, though, because your lips were curling into a sharp grin, looking like a cat who caught the canary, and satoru couldn't help but think that maybe, he was just in as big of a trouble as suguru was. maybe, with his answer, satoru had condemned not just his best friend, but himself as well.

you pulled your hand out of suguru with a lewd squelch, one that made satoru flush all the way to the roots of his hair—and oh god, he hadn't even realised he could burn up even more—and the way that suguru whimpered, both devastated and relieved by the loss, wasn't helping.

you took a step backwards, letting suguru's body drop onto the mattress. you gestured towards the now empty space between suguru's thighs. "on your knees, satoru. hands behind your back."

satoru couldn't do anything but comply. he dropped to his knees, his hands behind his back and his eyes now at level with suguru's fucked out cunt. holy shit. suguru was twitching, his pretty clit engorged and swollen from the earlier abuse and fucking pierced apparently. satoru exhaled sharply at the sight, his breath fanning across suguru's folds, and earning himself a short, aborted whine from suguru. oh my god.

satoru almost flinched when he felt your hand card through his hair, tangling your fingers into the strands as he guided your face closer to suguru's gushing pussy. "go on," you ordered him, your voice gentled by the sound of melodious laughter. "eat him."

thank you for the meal, satoru thought dazedly as his face was guided closer and closer, until he was buried in suguru's cunt and lapping up the taste of his best friend.

the response was immediate—suguru's thighs started quivering on either side of satoru's head, moving to rest on satoru's shoulders and pulling him in as if to suffocate him. satoru didn't mind, taking that as an unspoken order to start eating his best friend out like his life depended on it.

he didn't bother with hesitating or testing the waters. he licked a broad strip up the length of suguru's cunt, dipping in between his folds to gather the slick there at the centre of his tongue. satoru moaned at the taste, and he was immediately greeted by the feeling of suguru's walls squeezing around him as suguru met him with his own weak whimper.

"suguru's already sensitive." that was you again. there was notable amusement in your voice. "want me to help you make him come faster?"

satoru should say no. he wanted to stay buried in suguru's cunt forever, eating his best friend out until he was shaking all over the place. he wanted to make his best friend feel so good that he stopped being satoru's suguru and instead started becoming your suguru with satoru instead.

but he could hear his best friend's pleas even above the sound of his pounding heartbeat, the sound of suguru's suffering, and he couldn't let this keep going for much longer.

he nodded, the bridge of his nose bumping over suguru's clit in the process. suguru's thighs squeezed around him, a whimper escaping, and satoru quickly drew circles on suguru's hips in apology.

you, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same courtesy as you told him, "suck on his clit, then open your jaw wide."

satoru obeyed even though he didn't really understand why you were telling him to do that, knowing that you likely understood suguru's body more than he did in this matter.

he pursed his lips around suguru's clit, sucking on it firmly, before he let his jaw drop open.

oh.

oh, holy fuck.

because suguru was squirting directly into his mouth, making a mess out of the lower side of his face, and satoru could only kneel there, his mouth wide open as he swallowed all of his best friend's slick juices. his head was light, and he couldn't breathe—both from the suffocation and the fact that geto suguru, his best friend, his one and only, just fucking squirted into his mouth.

when suguru finally let him free, thighs unlocking from around his head and limply falling onto the edge of the bed. satoru leaned back, unable to process what just happened, when he heard you speak again.

"don't forget your manners, suguru."

it was quiet for a moment, then he heard the small, almost shy, voice of his best friend. "thank you, satoru," suguru mumbled.

"you're welcome," satoru replied, his voice sounding fucked over. he couldn't correct himself just yet, though, his head still reeling.

he was still on his knees as he watched you rearrange suguru on the bed, peppering soft kisses onto his face and his collarbone and his chest in stark contrast to the way you had treated him earlier. there was the lull of soft conversation passing between the both of you, one that satoru didn't try being a voyeur of.

he was content with just kneeling there, his head filled with cotton and static. he didn't even bother with touching himself, still too entranced by the feeling of this all happening.

finally, your footsteps drew close to him. he tilted his head as he watched you approach him. you cupped his chin, tilting his head back to meet your gaze.

"messy," you noted, but the corners of your mouth were quirked into a smile. "but suguru's always been messy." satoru didn't have any response to that, so he simply nodded stupidly. somehow, that must be the right answer because you laughed.

you took a step back, taking a seat onto the edge of the bed. satoru's eyes tracked your movement almost curiously. he frowned when you patted your lap, as if you were expecting something from him.

"over my knee," you said. "i think fifteen should do. usually, i'd give more, but i'm assuming you're new to the scene, hm? don't forget to count."

satoru blinked dumbly. he stayed rooted on his knees. "what?" he asked hoarsely.

you raised a brow at him. "oh, satoru," you said, your voice placating. "did you really think that i was going to let you go unpunished just like that? over my knee. fifteen spanks and i want you to count."

when he still did nothing, your gaze darkened and your voice grew firm. "now, satoru."

oh, satoru thought smartly.

swallowing thickly, he moved to comply.

#once again . this ran away from me #idk if this was what you wanted anon but the idea of satoru eating suguru out literally invaded my brain i'm sorry #literally insane holy shitttt #sub jjk #sub geto suguru #sub gojo satoru #dom reader #top reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru #( asks. ) #( thirsts. )

[caeslxys]

I’ve mentioned this elsewhere but it feels relevant again in light of the most recent episode. Something that’s really fascinating to me about Orym’s grief in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief is that his is the youngest/most fresh and because of that tends to be the most volatile when it is triggered (aside from FCG, who was two and obviously The Most volatile when triggered.)

As in: prior to the attack on Zephrah, Orym was leading a normal, happy, casual life! with family who loved him and still do! Grief was something that was inflicted upon him via Ludinus’ machinations, whereas with characters like Imogen or Ashton, grief has been the background tapestry of their entire lives. And I think that shows in how the rest of them are largely able to, if not see past completely (Imogen/Laudna/Chetney) then at least temper/direct their vitriol or grief (Ashton/Fearne/Chetney again) to where it is most effective. (There is a glaring reason, for example, that Imogen scolded Orym for the way he reacted to Liliana and not Ashton. Because Ashton’s anger was directed in a way that was ultimately protective of Imogen—most effective—and Orym’s was founded solely in his personal grief.)

He wants Imogen to have her mom and he wants Lilliana to be salvageable for Imogen because he loves Imogen. But his love for the people in his present actively and consistently tend to conflict with the love he has for the people in his past. They are in a constant battle and Orym—he cannot fathom losing either of them.

(Or, to that point, recognize that allowing empathy to take root in him for the enemy isn't losing one of them.)

It is deeply poignant, then, that Orym’s grief is symbolized by both a sword and shield. It is something he wields as a blade when he feels his philosophy being threatened by certain conversational threads (as he believes it is one of the only things he has left of Will and Derrig, and is therefore desperately clinging onto with both bloody hands even if it makes him, occasionally, a hypocrite), but also something he can use in defense of the people he presently loves—if that provocative, blade-grief side of him does not push them—or himself—away first.

(it won’t—he is as loved by the hells as he loves them. he just needs to—as laudna so beautifully said—say and hear it more often.)

#critical role #cr spoilers #bells hells #orym of the air ashari #cr meta #imogen temult #ashton greymoore #liliana temult #this is genuinely completely written in good faith as someone who loves orym #but is also about orym and so will inevitably end up being completely misconstrued and made into discourse. alas #I could talk about how Orym’s unwillingness to allow the hells to actually finish/come to a solid conclusion on Philosophy Talk #is directly connected to one of the largest criticisms of c3 (that they are constantly having these conversations) #all day. alas. engaging with orym’s flaws tends to make people upset #it is ESP prevelant when he walks off after exclaiming ‘they (vangaurd) are NOT right’ #which was not only never said but wasn’t even what they were talking about #he even admits as much to imogen like ten minutes later! that he is incapable of viewing it objectively #which is 100% justifiable and understandable but simultaneously does not make his grief alone the most important perspective in the world #also bc i fear ppl will play semantics on my tags yes the line ‘i hope she’s right’ was said but it was from ASHTON #who does not believe they are at all and wasn’t saying they actively WERE right. orym just heard something to latch onto and ran with it #ultimately there is a reason orym only admitted that he was struggling when he had stepped away to talk to dorian #who has not been around and thusly has not changed once n orym's eyes #and it isn't that the hells never check in or care. they do. they have several times over #it is dishonest to say they haven't #the actual reason is that all of this is something He Is Aware Of. he doesn't mention it bc he KNOWS it's hypocritical and selfish #he says as much! #EXHALES. @ MY OWN BRAIN CAN WE THINK ABT MOG AGAIN. FYRA RAI EVEN. FOR ME. #posting this literally at 8 in the morning so I can get my thoughts out of my brain but also attempt to immediately make this post invisibl

[odderevents]

I have had a thought. Steve secretly knowing how to play the piano bc he learned as a kid and had to stop bc his dad's an asshole is lovely. I've seen this floating around a few times and I love it. Eddie catching him playing the piano and being so fucking in love with him will never not be perfect.

But.

Consider

Steve playing the Harp.

It's definitely a rich kid instrument. Big ass fucking impractical instrument. Absolutely beautiful to look at and listen to. Hands playing piano is great. But have you ever seen an accomplished harpist? It makes you think impure thoughts about what those fingers can do.

So. Steve secretly knowing how to play the harp

Maybe his mom used to play it, so there's a big harp (the ones with the columns and super intricate base board, not celtic) that's just gathering dust in the basement. Steve started piano lessons, loved learning how to pull music out of an inert object. But his dad decides it's to effeminate, makes him stop. And sure, a harp is a different beast to a piano. But you've still got cords, and Steve's got a pretty decent ear, and he can barely remember seeing his mom play. So one day when he has the house to himself, which isn't an unusual occurrence at this point, he tries it out. And he's admittedly pretty shit at it, but so was he at piano when he started. Only difference is he has no teacher.

So maybe Steve discreetly finds a way to acquire a beginner's practice instructional book for harp. And works on it when he needs to get his brain away from things.

He's even more careful with it than he is with any dirty mags he might later acquire. He knows that worse, much worse than piano, harp is not a masculine instrument and under no circumstances should his father find out about his affinity for it.

It's still his go to when he can't sleep even years later, pulling out the now old and battered booklet of sheet music and exercises. Especially once the upside down bullshit starts. It's soothing and mindless at this point.

The harp that was much too big when he first started with it is now just the right size, it's weight against his shoulder comforting. He can close his eyes and his fingers naturally find where to land and pluck.

Even when he becomes friends with Robbin and then Eddie, both musicians who he knows wouldn't give a damn about him playing a woman's instrument, he can't bring himself to mention it. If he did, they would want to hear him play and he's self-conscious about being self-taught. Both of them play well, they play with other people and people come to listen. He doesn't consider himself a "real" musician. It's just something he does to keep his hands and brain busy on nights where the sheets feel like they're strangling him and the dark reminds him too much of when he can't see not because it's night but because something's hit him in the head again and he can't tell apart the sound of his heartbeat from something pounding through his walls.

So he goes to the basement. Finds his stool. Removes the dust cover. Goes through the meditative motions of tuning it by ear, because that's how he's always done it. And then he plays until the tips of his fingers feel numb. Somehow, he always comes out of it peaceful enough to pass out on the couch in the basement for a couple more hours.

Steve is so used to keeping it a secret he doesn't even think about it when he starts dating Eddie. It's just a thing that's always only been his, and most importantly, it's been vital to keep it that way for so long it's the natural state of things for Steve at this point. It doesn't ever come up. When Steve gets nightmares when he's sleeping with Eddie all he has to do is curl into his boyfriend's chest and feel the warm heartbeat that's not his own to settle back into himself.

The problem arises on a night when Eddie was supposed to stay with Steve but he got held up in Indianapolis when getting a new amp for his guitar. He would come back to Steve but it would be late in the night. Steve has been keeping himself busy all day so he passes out in the early evening on the couch in front of a shitty sitcom he put on to try to distract himself from the empty house.

Nightmares find him, which isn't terribly unusual, but he doesn't have his usual method of coping so he resorts back to his previous habit.

Eddie walks in bone tired after many hours of driving to and from Indianapolis, waiting while the clerk figured out they didn't have the amp he'd been assured over the phone would be available for pickup today, waiting some more while they had the amp driven from a sister shop an hour away because no way was he driving back and forth again to Indianapolis on another day. So yeah. Eddie is beat. All he wants is to dive head first into his boyfriend's impeccable pecs.

He doesn't find Steve waiting with a welcome kiss like he usually would when he walks in. Instead he's greeted with a hauntingly beautiful rendition of the melody of Master of Puppets in a way he's never heard before.

He drops his stuff in the entry hall and goes down to the basement where the music is coming from, curious to see where Steve might have found the recording. Eddie doesn't quite know what to do with himself when he finally lays eyes on Steve, with dried tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes closed as his fingers pluck and strum without hesitation. He's rooted to the spot as he watches Steve work his favorite song in a new and completely heartrending way. He hasn't been able to listen to it since he played it in the upside down. It always brings up the bitter blood tang of the air and the hair raising shrieks of the bats. But this is somehow different, it's soft and melodious but it's still got the same bones.

Eddie feels tears on his own cheeks. He's missed this song goddammit. And he couldn't be happier that it's Steve that's given it back to him

Queue tears and fear and confessions and comfort. Somehow much later in the future there's inexplicably a harp in some of the corroded coffin tracks. And it shouldn't work but it does

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington plays an instrument #steve harrington plays the harp #this ran away from me #it was supposed to be a random idea #sorry if it's disjointed #it's midnight and the idea was not going to let me rest #I'll probably come try to clean it up at some point #i dont even want to imagine the typos #i hate writing on mobile #but once again brain latched on the the idea like a chewtoy and didn't want to give it back #so you unwitting internet denizen are now graced with the aforementioned mess

[factorialsotherfandoms]

The vibes on this got weird huh. The prompt is hypothermia, and it did spawn from that! But oh boy does it have a variety of vibes.

Why do Forever and Philza always talk so much, and why do they never quite stay on topic.

It doesn't snow on Quesadilla Island. There's sunshine most days, and rain when something is wrong, but there's never snow. At least, there isn't until December, as Christmas comes close as the Winter Holidays begin.

Forever was working on N.I.N.H.O. 2.0 when the snow began. Thankfully he had already made the building watertight, so he simply slams down a campfire as things get chilly, and continues wiring up the redstone; it's served him for the last few hours, and will serve for a few more before he returns to Richas, and Felps, and perhaps dragging Pac out of bed for some family cocoa.

He carries on working for a little while, but not even the allure of building and protection for the eggs can close his mind to the sound of tiny feet running across the floor. They're on the level above him, and he assumes it must be Richarlyson running over to convince him into a snowball fight.

Not that Forever would take much convincing - a little, because his work is important - but not much.

"I'm in the basement!" he calls, sure enough that his kid will hear him, and come down.

The feet pause, and then there's the bonk of two signs - did Richas bring Leo over too? - before the pattering picks up again.

Forever pulls himself out of the wiring just in time to see not Richarlyson but Tallulah come down the elevator, the little girl barrelling straight into his legs and clinging tight. He reaches down to pick her up, and by the time she is on his hip Chayanne is there too.

"Tallulah, Chayanne," he smiles to them both, trying to ignore the sharp twist of worry from the lack of parent following them. "Were you missing me that much? What will Phil say when he hears you ran off?"

Tallulah clings a little harder, and the worry bites in harder. Chayanne is already slamming down a sign, furiously writing on it.

There's still no indication of Philza giving chase, and it worries Forever... About as much as he thinks he should admit.

'Something's wrong with Dad,' Chayanne has written, and Forever lets his heart drop as he kneels to the boy's height. Already another sign is out, the boy ready to explain. 'He said he was just going to check something' 'twenty minutes ago' 'he still isn't back'.

"You want me to message him for you?" he asks.

Both of Philza's kids nods; he shuffles Tallulah around to free up his hands, and sends a message.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: heyyyyy where are you?

There's not an immediate reply, but then it's Philza - there never is. He gives it a minute, and then a second, and a third - gives the two eggs candy to distract them right up until Tallulah wriggles free, and writes a sign asking if he's heard anything yet.

Forever didn't hear a ping, but he checks anyway - no reply.

He types again.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: Where are you Phil your kids are worried

This time he only gives it a minute before checking whose communicators are online - Philza's still is, which he suspected, but its good to check. Skimming the map, he cannot see Philza around town... He'll check further out, and hope the man has his location on. And is near a warp...

Forever looks at Chayanne and Tallulah, and remembers terror, and Cucurucho, and how Philza dropped everything just because he was scared. How Philza promised he'd tried everything to come find him in the Nether, even after Forever tried to dodge around his questions.

You whisper to Feeeelps: Philza's missing. Can you watch his eggs while I look? Take everyone somewhere safe for hot chocolate until I'm back or something

"Chayanne? Tallulah?" he asks, not waiting for a reply. "I'm going to go look for you dad - can you two find Felps and Richas for me? Felps will look after you for now. He's at his Square."

The eggs are hesitant - Chayanne clings to him for a moment, before grabbing Tallulah's hand and tugging her towards the waystone.

Feeeelps whispers to you: we'll go to the Favela

Forever watches them safely away, then flicks back to the other set of DMs.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: I'm coming to find you

---

Philza has, thankfully, not turned off his location. He is, however, twelve thousand blocks out, and not especially close to any of Forever's waystones.

Forever is wrapped in a thick coat, a thicker scarf, and keeping himself warm by thanking the powers that be for motorboats, grapples, gliders, and how much faster the combination makes the trip than if he had to walk. Felps keeps sending him updates at random times, and Forever returns the favour by giving him a coordinates update each time.

Philza sends nothing.

He doesn't even move on the map.

Forever doesn't know if someone can freeze to death on Quesadilla Island, but neither does he want anyone to learn by experience - especially not such a close friend. Hopefully Philza is somewhere inside, whether that be a mud pile he built around himself after breaking his leg or a Federation torture dungeon or even just a spare house out here he got too absorbed into decorating. No option is a good one, and Forever will be furious if the man just forgot about both his eggs and his comms, but... It doesn't seem likely.

Eventually - he doesn't want to think about how long it takes him - Forever makes the coordinates.

The only wish he wins at is that the Federation is nowhere in sight.

There is Philza, knelt in the snow, dusted in snow that has made it through the leaf cover, staring at a giant wooden house with blank terror in his eyes.

It's just a house; Forever isn't sure what is so scary about it.

"Philza?" he calls, trying to draw attention to himself. "Chayanne and Tallulah are worried."

Philza doesn't respond. Forever spots the waystone not ten steps from where Philza is, and quickly registers it to his warpstone.

"Phil?" he comes closer, brushing his arm against Philza's head as he comes closer.

Still no response.

Forever worries on his lip, following Philza's gaze to the house, and then back to his friend's eyes. Still he can't make out the problem, nor work out what could possibly be wrong.

If the sight has his transfixed, though... Safer to break vision that to touch, right? Touching is the last attempt, no matter how much he wants to scoop his friend up and rush him away to safety.

Forever steps into Philza's line of vision, crouching down in an attempt to draw his attention.

It takes a little bit, but slowly Philza's eyes draw upwards and meet Forever's of their own accord.

"Forever?" Philza's voice is quiet, broken, pained. His skin is pale, his lips are bluing, and the lack of shivering is terrifying.

"I'm here," he replies, offering a hand. "What's wrong, Philza? Let's go back where it's warm."

Philza makes no move to take the hand, eyes drifting over Forever's shoulder, back to the wooden house and oh how that makes him want to scream.

"Phil?" he tries again.

It doesn't draw the eyes back, but it does pull out more, quiet words, "do you see that?"

"The house?" he asks. "With the wood."

Something both relaxes and tenses in Philza all at once, his head shifting to the side, "I- Are... you real?"

Forever doesn't like the question - he takes one of Philza's frozen hands, holding it tightly and promises "I'm here. Can't you feel me?"

Philza doesn't even look at their hands, "I could feel you before. But... But the birdhouse isn't real - it can't be real..."

"Do you want me to take a photo?" Forever asks.

There's a quiet laugh and a single shiver, "the photos vanish, Forever, shouldn't you know that? The photos don't stay because it's only a dream."

And Forever... he isn't sure what to do. So he moves his grip from frozen hands to frozen cheeks, only a little at peace with how Philza leans into the touch and hums.

"Why don't we go somewhere warmer?" He asks instead. "Chayanne and Tallulah are worried about you."

"Chayanne and Tallulah are dead," Philza replies, blank eyed and with absolute certainty.

Forever is very glad that Felps texts him with an update right there and then, confirming the two eggs are still safe and alive.

"No, they're with Felps," Forever tries.

"Felps?" that does seem to spark some life into Philza's face, confusion scrunching into his expression. "You... /Felps/?"

"He was the only other person awake," Forever shrugs a bit. "They're safe with him."

Philza hesitates, words on his lips but not his tongue. For all that seems to have knocked him a little more present, he's still not all the way there yet.

"They're at the Favela," Forever says. "They're safe; all of the eggs are safe."

"... You promise?"

"I promise."

The tension finally drains, Philza falling against Forever's chest. He catches him, and starts looking for something warm to drape over him. In his frantic search he almost misses the quiet, "even if this is a dream... there isn't a world in which I do not trust you, Forever."

Forever has no idea how to handle those words; he tugs Philza over to the waypoint instead, and feels his heart drop as he actually reads the name - 'Was this actually real?'. He swallows the feeling - once Philza is safe and warm and present, then he can ask - and instead presses his fingers to the stone.

Then he hesitates; Philza is in no state for the ladder down to his own home, but anywhere else... Who on the island even has a bed, warmth, and a change of clothes?

"Head to mine," he ends up saying, not having half of the things but at least knowing where the ones he has are.

Forever's hands hover ready to teleport himself as he watches Philza slowly scroll through the options, unsure if it is frozen fingers or a frozen brain that cause him to struggle. Once Philza vanishes he does check the map - making sure Philza got to the right location - before following.

"Come, come," Forever tugs on Philza's hand, doing his best to smile. "Just head down to the sitting room. Leave wet clothes by the door, and there's a blanket on the back of the couch. Nice and warm. I'll just get you a drink."

He does his best to trust Philza to follow the instructions - he makes the right room at least - as he hurries off to his storage. He remembers how Philza hated tea even before purgatory, and turned his nose at coffee, and so grabs the ingredients for hot chocolate. And a fire, and some string to throw their wet clothes over.

While he's there he sends a quick message to Felps, just letting him know.

You whisper to Feeeelps: Found Phil! Not sure what's wrong, but he's safe now

He doesn't check for a reply, instead heading back to the sitting room.

Philza seems to have done as he was told, there being a pile of black and green by the door and the man himself bundled in the corner of the couch and wrapped tight in a blanket. He is at least shivering now, though the entire act looks painful.

Forever carefully hands him the hot chocolate.

"Be careful, it's hot!"

Philza takes it, but just stares at the liquid rather than drink or reply.

Forever isn't sure what to do, his knowledge run to an end. Rather than panic he builds up a fire, and hangs the string high over it. Wet and muddy clothes from both of them are tossed over it to dry.

When he turns back, Philza is staring at him instead of the mug.

It's an improvement, or maybe not; he tracked as he goes over to the couch, and sits at Philza's side.

"Phil?" he begins to ask, his words cut off as a pile of friend and blankets flops onto his side. That, at least, changes his question. "Are you feeling okay?"

"... Just cold," Philza replies, and his voice is still too far away, but it's a little louder at least.

Forever isn't quite sure what to do with his arms, and so settles for the instinct - he wraps his arms around Philza, pulling him into a hug. Maybe, with the strange mood, it shouldn't be surprising that he doesn't pull away, but it still feels almost wrong.

Still, after so much time, it feels wrong - Forever knows Philza hugs people, and even hugs him, but something about it is always novel and strange.

Or maybe it's that Philza is accepting comfort, not comforting, that's so weird about it.

They remain in the warm and the quiet, watching the fire for a little bit. After ten minutes or so, Philza takes it on himself to break it.

"... The birdhouse was real, right?"

"Birdhouse?" Forever pauses, thinks about the building he saw, and realises - yes - that is what it was. "I saw it. Did you... not?"

The hesitation is audible, but eventually Philza says, "when the eggs were missing, something... I'm not sure if it did or didn't happen."

"That leads to you trying to kill yourself in the snow?" Forever's fingers brush Philza's cheek, and still find it terrifyingly cold.

"No! Well, yes, but... I wasn't trying to freeze," Philza isn't laughing - he is shuddering, though, and Forever pretends it's only the cold. "Tallulah's birthday. Maze day... Mexican Independence Day. I went home. There was a book, it said... It doesn't matter. I thought it was Tallulah, it wasn't. I followed the instructions, and found a bird house... Inside... There... A floaty, a red hat, a purple hat jeering at me for my part in lavacasting the presidential building. Cucurucho locked me in there. I slept, I dreamed, I woke and fell asleep and woke and feel asleep and eventually I awoke and the security door had become a wooden one, woven in flowers, and Cucurucho was at a desk outside, and he handed me a book telling me to wake up. I did. In my basement, my inventory same as before I found the book, but a potato in one hand and a poppy in the other. Tubbo and Fit had built me a grave. Took them back there, but... Nothing. Since there's been another book - and flowers, and a pencil drawing. Took photos of that. Turned my back to call Fit. When I turned back, it was gone. I don't... The birdhouse was full of birds. They follow me now, out of biome, out of place, appearing in cages in my house or on my doorstep and I'm not even sure the birds exist because I let them out and they just... fly away..."

"I believe you," Forever says - because he does, because he knows the power the Federation wields when it wants to, and just a glimpse of how many other powers remain at play on the island.

"That's funny," Philza's laugh sounds like death. "Because I don't."

Forever pulls Philza a little closer, trying to both reassure him and warm him up, "why did you go looking today...?"

"It was snowing," Philza replies, easily - easily. "It's not supposed to snow. I thought, maybe... I was dreaming again."

"I think it might just be the Federation getting ready for the holidays. Should I ask them? They don't like answering me, but eventually it must work, right?"

"Or get you kidnapped again," the scoff is more real, and one hand leaves Philza's cup to tuck behind Forever's back.

"You'll save me."

"I didn't last time."

"You tried. Where was I when this was happening to you?"

"Mate," Philza speaks in a complete deadpan. "You were in a fucking coma."

Forever runs the dates and... Philza is correct, at least for the start of it. He remembers a bit being worried, asking for his friend when he awoke. He also remembers asking Tubbo, who assured him nothing was wrong. "You could have told me."

"What? That I'd had a weird dream? You're my friend, Forever, I didn't want to put more on your plate than you already had. I think - thought - I don't know, that I was just... dreaming," he gestures a bit. "The other time... You were in the Nether, and you were so badly hurt by that, and I couldn't even find out what was wrong because one minute you were back and the next we were in purgatory, then the eggs were back but sick, and it's just... It's never really stopped, has it? And until today it'd been so long since anything like those happened to me I just... Wanted to think it was over with."

"Philza..." Forever tries to pull him closer, only to be pulled closer in turn.

"What even happened in the Nether, Forever?" Philza then asks. "You were scared, then determined, then we saw your death message and you were gone... And came back so long later, and so badly hurt..."

"Walter Bob was there," Forever says, like he wishes he could have weeks ago, but now it's old news, isn't it? His hair is still short but his injuries have healed, and so much has happened it's not even the biggest wound in his mind any more. "He said I wasn't supposed to be. We spent weeks on the run, realising we were trapped, lava and monsters and darkness, looking for anything that could help... We were hunted by the black cucurucho - the one they saw in the sewers, I think. Gave me a creepy book. I got out, Walter Bob didn't. It's... I don't know what it is, any more."

Philza reaches up, and cups one of Forever's scarred cheeks, "they hurt you."

Forever places a hand over Philza's heart, "they hurt you, too."

There's nothing much else to say to that; they both drift quietly into one another's company. Forever drink's Philza's concern, and the hugs he gives him, the gentle touches and the asks if he is okay. He gives the same, too, tapping Philza's cheek to keep him in the present, letting his sitting room provide warmth and light and safety.

Forever's almost starting to fall asleep, lulled by company and warmth, when Philza sits bolt upright.

"Shit, Chayanne and Tallulah! I left them at the house."

"It's okay," Forever tries to tug him back down. "They came to get me when you were gone too long. Felps is entertaining them."

"Are... Are they okay?" Philza's eyes are blown wide again - terrified - when he turns to Forever.

"Scared, but safe," Forever promises, cupping Philza's cheeks, because he believes in Felps' ability to keep three children entertained, and to scream if he actually needs help.

"I should see them," Philza says, already starting to get up.

"Wait for your clothes to dry first," Forever suggests. "Do you want to scare them more?"

"But-"

"Don't you trust me?" Forever tries to tease with the question, though he's sure he sound desperate.

"I trust you," no hesitation, not a fraction of a second. Forever's heart does funny things at that, and he thinks Philza might kill him even sooner than the Federation. "I just..."

"Message Felps?" Forever suggests, watching Philza's fingers and wondering if he needs to be worried about frostbite, and what he's even supposed to do if he is.

Philza does manage to type, though, so Forever is just going to hope he has the sense to take a potion if he isn't okay.

There's a series of quickly typed messages back and forth, before Philza relaxes again.

"All safe, see?" Forever says.

Philza nods, and slumps back against his side, "if I promise to sleep, can you go join them? I don't not trust Felps, I just... trust you?"

Forever isn't entirely sure if sleep is the best thing, but Philza is definitely warmer, and the room he's in will stay that way. He's coherent, and past the shivering, and now at a temperature of 'chilled' not 'frozen' so...

"Just let me get a hot water bottle. And I'll be back to check on you hourly."

"Fussy," Philza teases, sliding down to lie on the couch as Forever sits up.

"Worried," Forever shoots back.

"Because you care," Philza stabs him with. "It's why I voted for you. I knew even with power, you'd still care."

Forever isn't sure he's worth that much faith, knows what power has done to him before. So he just smiles, and wishes Philza a good night, and tries to remember where he left the hot water bottle - or perhaps how to make one; this is the first winter on the island, after all.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp forever #seriously why do these two never shut up when put together #hurt/comfort #once again I'm not sure what this fic is but they ran away from me #very surprised netiher of them bought purgatory up tbh #every time I think this is over they talk more #I didn't even want them to talk!!! #I just wanted them to cuddle!!!

[prettyboykatsuki]

there is probably no more frightening an act of intimacy than bathing with someone

#aristotle.txt #makes me quite sick thinking about #i did it once when i was 15 when i almost ran away from home with a girl who certainly didn’t love me even half as much as i loved her #and i can’t imagine ever doing it again

[quietwingsinthesky]

just going to keep this au tucked into the back of my mind for the rest of the show btw. doctor who if his companions literally would not leave him alone. he keeps getting new companions and they’re just. integrated into the tardis family. bonding over how much they all love this weird pathetic spaceman who has enriched and/or ruined their lives.

#even funnier if the doctor regenerates and tentoo does not so theyre just perpetually stuck with angsty david tennant alongside whatever #doctor is flying the ship at the time #they’ll like. leave and do normal life stuff every once in a while. #the doctor internally going both ‘oh good theyre returning to their lives 🙂’ and ‘THEYRE ABANDONING ME 😭’ because he has issues #and then another companion will hijack the tardis to pick them up again because the doctor is trying to avoid it ‘for their own good’ #the doctor tries to leave them all behind when they all go to donna’s wedding and is thwarted by luke smith (also invited to wedding because #donna and sarah jane are friends now and luke eventually starts living parttime on the tardis like sarah jane does (sarah jane i can see #going back home the most. but still never leaving the doctor alone lmao.) and anyway luke got overstimulated at the wedding and hid in the #tardis to calm down (sarah jane told him that was okay 🥺) and then the doctor tries to??? fucking leave everyone??? (<- having a crisis) #and twenty minutes later luke has commandeered the tardis back to the wedding and the doctor is getting an earful from both donna (‘YOU RAN #AWAY FROM MY WEDDING???? MY WEDDING????’) and sarah jane (‘YOU KIDNAPPED MY SON???’) #i got off track here talking about donnas wedding my point was that i think it would be funny if this stupid alien man’s family just keeps #growing and growing and he cant do shit about it. #sometimes the master is also there when she’s on good behavior and she makes fun of him for it soooo much. loser cant keep his humans off #his tardis. #tardis family au

[daz4i]

hate when i vent abt my pain and ppl tell me "everyone has stomach aches, it's normal" okay but are their pains bad enough to make them cry or unable to stand..... at least once a week...... bc i think that if this was normal society might've collapsed by now. but what do i know

#at least I'm on the way to get another test to see if it really is crohn's or not :') #my other tests came out negative but the last doctor i saw said it's worth checking again :') #bc. he claims. you're never gonna guess it. these pains are NOT normal ✨️ who could've thought! #sorry for the bitterness. as you may be able to infer from this i am in severe pain and having a hard time standing up or moving at all #btw through this doctor i went to i found out i actually had internal inflammation back in 2018 too and i was just. never told abt it. #like i was in the hospital and they ran a test but bc it was for smth else they didn't think to point it out?? #why do i have to learn 5 years later that i had smth wrong with me that probably got worse with time and that's why I'm like that now 😭😭😭 #(i wanna apply good faith to this. they probably thought it was a result of my other stomach issues so it'll pass once they do. #but like. if it really didn't go away and in fact got worse with time. i feel like i have the right to blame them yknow?) #vent #possibly a tmi one idk ajskflglh #sorry. i am very tired

[balladetto]

breath of the wild / accepting / @nihlkahn

"Let's wish each other good luck, hm? We all need it."

     Edel signs it as he speaks it, slow and defined. "Good luck." Link plays the sequence over again in his head, from the fingers by the chin to the last shape they twist into. It's an uncomplicated progression. Easy, honestly — he can recognise what makes good and what makes luck. This is usually where he raises his own hands, mimicking each motion with the eager awkwardness of someone still ingraining these things into muscle memory.

     Link's hands remain on his lap, unmoved. His eyes flit up to his companion's. As his left hand clenches, he bites his lip against the sour taste suddenly lingering in his mouth.

     There's something really funny about a god talking about needing luck.

     I know, he's tempted to return. He can imagine how he'd say it, can imagine the press of fingernails at his temple: sharp and biting and bitter with each tap. I know. But he doesn't have to repeat what Edel is already aware of, and — worse besides — it'd be a certain kind of unfair to point out.

     His companion is a god, and his companion is a mask. In this misfortune, they are the same type of people. The ones who need luck the most — the ones for whom luck isn't an option. It isn't even a reality. For them, there are only decisions, then consequences.

     Yet here the Fierce Deity sits: eyes soft and shadow a welcome shelter from the sun, wanting to give him this wish that counts for nothing. To give him the means to say it, regardless of his voice, like it matters that he can. In the face of a world that is far more beloved than it loves, Link almost thinks it pointless. Insincere.

     Just almost though, 'cause this is the same world where Link is also Lark.

     Lark, who doesn't need to ask to have someone ready to help. Lark, who's been told he deserves to be cared for, to be loved. Lark, who— maybe, maybe, has something like a guardian.

     Lark, who definitely has Edel.

     He exhales. It's an unwinding of what he's tightened into, from brow to lips to shoulders to fist. He pulls his left hand open the rest of the way and looks down to consider it. For several moments, that's all he does, before he eventually lifts it to his chin.

     "Good luck," he signs, with no more than what he has in his belief of it — but his smile as he meets Edel's gaze again makes it clear he rather doesn't care. Perhaps it's hopeless to wish, perhaps Link is wrong. It is, either way, a nice thought. Edel seems to have a lot of those for him.

#nihlkahn #* nihlkahn & link / like threading a needle (will you hold me?). #( good god this really ran away from me but once again i am so totally Normal about them (lie) #they're just!! they're so!!! the way edel would teach him how to say good luck even when neither of them believe the concept of it #just because it's a positive thing to say! to each other no less!! REEEED [crumples into a ball of mush] #thank you for this!! <3 ) #* lionheart / ic. #* lionheart / answer. #* ic / para. #* v / the world: unmoved. #long post cw

[rosicheeks]

i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

#uhhhhhm no you HAVE NOT SENT THIS TO ME BEFORE?!?! #I literally am speechless #I’m not super talky right now #but even if I was I feel like I’d still be fucking speechless #like I already said I love your writing 🩷 #and it fucking BLOWS ME AWAY when people write about me or use me as an inspiration #like????????? what??????? me???????????! #I’m going to keep this close to my heart and look at it whenever I’m feeling down #I don’t remember if I said that already but it’s true #I need to get a journal or a cute box to put things like this in so I can just grab it and look through them when I’m feeling shitty #one thing I needed to say is the fact that you shared this with me now of all times??? is kinda crazy to me #idk if it’s a coincidence or if the universe/God/whoever/whatever is trying to tell me to go back into music and singing #not going to go into it too much but I’ve been looking at my life a lot lately #and I’m realizing I’m not getting any younger…. I know I’m still young but if I don’t do something soon - #my life is going to completely pass before my eyes and I really really don’t want that #I’m *finally* going to get mental help soon (long story but I have to wait a few weeks) #and once I’m actually mentally stable I can focus on what I want to do with my life #so I’ve been thinking a lot about my performing arts background and then randomly a get an email from a choir director I know #asking if I could please join the choir for their Easter performance cause they could really use my high notes #and she just kept complimenting me and it felt really nice ☺️ #then when I went to the first rehearsal I sat next to this girl and we were singing a part and the first sopranos go up to a high A #and I can hit it easily but most of them couldn’t so it felt like I was going this mini solo lol #but she asks me what my range is and I told her that back when I trained I could sing queen of the night which I think goes up to an F6 #and she was talking about how impressive that is #and it made me think about if I actually trained and got back into it how good I actually could get #I don’t mean this to be like ‘look at me look at me I’m so good’ #it just feels nice to have a little bit of a direction again #who knows if I’ll actually go down the music path again but it does sound damn exciting #I miss it with all my heart - I miss singing and performing and acting… I even miss music theory #anyway rant over and i ran out of space but thank you so much I seriously can’t thank you enough 😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[mothram]

#diana's music diary #good morning #i slept early #it was nice #very cozy #I only slept like 4 hours though cause I had to get up for a delivery... also I'm posting this a couple of hours after waking... #as is becoming usual for these... I've been kind of vibing to music pretty much... #anyway yesterday was good but so exhausting... played lethal company with friends like I'd said which was really fun!! was a little bit of #process getting my bearings in it since I'd seen maybe one second of gameplay before but after a day or two in game I picked it up I'd say! #I mostly just ran away when I saw something scary but I tried scanning a monster and it opened the door which made me scream once ahaha #after that I was a lil tired but we ended up having a session of the project moon ttrpg I'm in kind of out of nowhere #it was short but v fun to play Frei again he kind of completely shut down the distortion singlehandedly which was surprising considering he #has no combat capability.. incapacitated them and read its mind which helped us figure out what we needed to do to resolve the distortion #-peacefully! my partners character did the actual resolving cause Frei is terrified of going near anything as gross as that distortion was #(it was a giant gross greasy burger monster. who was just bob from bobs burgers. he ended up in a polycule with linda and teddy after.) #Frei also read my partners characters mind a bit and maybe upset him a little by mentioning his daughter (her character is divorced lol) #anyway yeah... I was tired after both of those so I kinda got in bed and passed out quickly while listening to music... #idk what I'll do today I'm a bit sore still and I'm v sick and tired rn so I'll probably just relax a bit... #let's make today nice and cozy and good... love u friends thank u for reading <3

[moonsandstar-s]

one of the aspects that i love most about the confession scene is that blake & yang both already know the big truth they haven’t dropped on each other. blake knows yang is thinking ‘i love you’ and yang realizes that blake is thinking it too as the clouds go gold behind her, even though she immediately questions it with the dropping of her gaze and the uncertainty on her face - for them, it’s a matter of being brave enough to speak it into existence rather than revealing previously-unknown feelings to each other. my question is, when do you guys think blake and yang first became aware of how they, themselves, were feeling? 

#though i love the thought of them having crushes on each other at beacon i think it's more of a curiosity than anything #like the precursor to a crush or even feelings #i wouldn't put my money on burning the candle either - i think yang was interested and blake still had a lot she was processing at the time #but that neither of them really thought concretely in that way about one another #at least not for the duration of v1-first three quarters of v3 #once beacon started falling i think their worry for each other spiked - you see blake and yang's faces during their call to each other #as beacon is under attack and then obviously everything that happens w adam after that #but of course #i think yang first started to realize her feelings were more than just 'like' sometime immediately after blake left after the fall of beacon #she realizes her frustration/hurt/bitterness/grief is more than just 'someone i trust and care about left me behind' because underneath that #there is a very raw and real ache of missing blake more than anything and wishing she were there #and that's when it starts to become apparent to us too #AS FOR BLAKE #again love the thought of her choosing yang in the emerald forest and being interested from day 1 #tho i do think she was drawn to yang in v1 and felt an affinity towards her i wouldn't say it developed into 'realized' love til later #she had love for yang which adam obviously took note of - especially the similarities between the two of them - #but do i think blake realized she loved yang until adam was threatening to take her away? nope #honestly i think she squashed it down after v3c11 when she ran away - compartmentalized and told herself that 'yang deserves better' etc and #didn't let herself think about it at all bc what was the point? she just focused on everything else going on and didn't acknowledge #then when they saw each other at the end of v5 - imo that was the turning point #that was it #their feelings rushed to the surface - broke through all the anger and suppression and grief #and they've been falling for each other even through all the issues they worked out from v6 onward #the end that's my theory and i want to hear all of yours too #RWBY #Bumbleby #RWBY 9 #RWBY Volume 9 #Blake x Yang #Blake Belladonna

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

smth smth memento mori smth smth memento vivere smth smth mental illness

#this isn't what my therapist said im just thinking about burn my dread really hard. like yeah p3 opening is just the Themes isnt it #the animation has all these themes of death but burn my dread as a song seems to be about pushing through regardless yk #violently even in the full version. this time I'll grapple down that god of fear and throw him into hells fire #as opposed to how intially its. i once ran away from the god of fear and he chained me to despair #i mean the short version from the intro animation has the line about breaking the chains and running to the sunlight #but again the full vers. i will face the sun with the pride of the living #something about that. difference #idk if i phrased this right #persona 3 intro 👍

[bi-leth-eisner]

dreamless dorm, ticking clock

i walk away from the soundless room

windless night

moonlight melts

my ghostly shadow to the lukewarm gloom

nightly dance

of bleeding swords

reminds me that

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #my art #i will BURRRRRRRRNNNNN MYYYYYYY DREEEEEEAAAAAAD #I ONCE RAN AWAY FROM THE GOD OF FEAR AND HE CHAINED ME TO DESPAIR‚ YEAH #burrrrrrrnnnn myyyyyyyy dreeeeeeeaaaaad #i will BREAK THE CHAIN AND RUN till i see the sunlight again #ohhhhhh‚ i lift my face... and run to the sunlight...

[nomaishuttle]

left a 10 dollar tip bc i felt rly bad abt being late 4 the pickup.. sry man

#i put it bc i had 2 um. 4 some reason when i put pickup at the restaurant i was sitting at it changed it back to the airport #so i saw this sign for an italian restaurant across the street and i was like ok slay ill just say im there and then put in the notes Hey #im avtually at the diner across the street #but. the italian restaurant was actually on the other side of that builfing and they judt had like. a little alleyway/outdoor seating zone #where they had that sign. so i jogged iver there and then didnt see the car bc there were 2 of the car that was supposed 2 be picking #ne up . abd one of them had 2 ppl in it but i walked to the back door and then i was like No #so i ran away . and then it was like hey yr drivers gonna leave and i was like Sry Sry sry and i looked again and saw it and got in and i #felt bad #BUT asode from that super fun day :]] i went to da little cafe i was looking at i got a london fog and a bacon breakfast sandwich and a #salted caramel candy all were pretty good... n then library this is famous it was fun.. i worked on the puzzle for the last 30 minutes i #was there :] very fun... AND i got a book ive been meaning 2 read and put 2 others on hold... all by miss ask a mortician #ill be honest the one i got is smoke gets in yr eyes and im not loving the writing style so far ... but its also her first book and is from #like 2014. and im only a tiny bit into it #but yas. im rly excited for will my cat eat my eyeballs... #the library is a tinyyy bit disappointing where its part of like. a library system? they all share books #so no one library has a ton of books lol. ill just have 2 remember to put books on hold when i want to read them so that theyll send them #over... yk. #its not super weird that it doesnt have a ton of books or anything yk. there r legit 8 other libraries that it shares the collection with #and its fun 2 do library road trip kjnd of thang.. me and . did that once :] it was a lot of fun #even tho i ended up reading like. not even half of the books i got... #but the books i did read were sooo good one of them was the down days Which i absolutely loved #abd i started reading a different one abt like a vampire virus (idk why i checked out 2 entirely seperate books abt fictional pandemics. As #if i havent had enough of pandemics LOL.) and that one was rly cool what i read of it.. i didnt finish it tho im not sure i even got half #in.. i rly liked what i did read of it tho #but. fr down days was so good it makes up 4 all the ones i didnt read. Soooo good guys #it got a little crazy towards the end but i was so into it i was like YASSS OK #highly highly recommend. the down days by Ilze Hugo

[not-your-lifeline]

she gave up immediately at the start of the trial so I’ve been keeping my eye on her to give her the hatch. she was acting cute during the whole game hiding behind a rock and peeking at me lol

#Dead by Daylight #DBD #screenshots #shitposting #killer main #The Executioner #Pyramid Head #Silent Hill #Ada Wong #cute #wholesome #adorable #we must PROTECC the newbies #precious #I turned away from her at the start of the tral but hooked her once in the middle of the trial later #to teach her not every killer will spare her like me so easily and that's how this game works. #but I made sure not to hit her again after that to reassure her that I'm going to give her the hatch #she would've panicked and ran away if I accidentaly pressed M1 #(also I was doing gold devout emblem challenge so I NEED them hooks)

[direwombat]

❛ i know you probably hate me right now, and i get it.❜ + Jacob & Sybil. If you’re taking prompts, of course 🖤

i rb-ed that more as a "writing promts to save for later/when i need the insp" but i am more than happy to fill a specific one pitched my way! Thank you!

--

“I know you probably hate me right now,” Jacob says, settling his weight on the rocks and resigning himself to dying on the side of a mountain. “And I get it.” 

I hate me too, goes loudly unsaid. It hangs heavily in the air between them despite the howling wind. 

“Well, fuck. Christ, Jacob,” Sybille sighs. “I sure as Hell can’t say I ain’t angry.” 

After all this time, that damn song -- the one that made her heart flutter and hold him tight as he whispered those titular words into her ear -- finally served its ultimate purpose. She lost control, Jacob took the reins, and he steered her along, all according to his master plan.

Because of him, Eli’s blood is on her hands and she has to live with that. But she’ll be damned if anyone else has to die today. 

Jacob stares up at her, his hand twitching like he wants to grab at her jacket and draw her in, but he stops himself. Shamefully, he averts his eyes and presses his hands against the wound in his thigh. A number of her covering-fire bullets had managed to hit him, but the one that gashed his thigh got him good. It missed the femoral -- Thank God -- but it did cut deep. Blood oozes from his leg. “You deserve better,” is all he says. 

She rolls her eyes. Damn, right I do. You fuckin’ winged me on my way up here. 

“And who are you to tell me what I do and don’t deserve, hm?” she snaps, because fuck, she’s spent so long doing things for the sake of others, she deserves to make her own goddamn selfish choices. And she wants him. With a single step forward she closes what little distance there was between them and cradles his jaw between her hands. “Jacob, look at me. If you think that I’m gonna kill you just because you think that I ‘deserve better’ you are sorely mistaken. That ain’t how the law works. Insofar as there is a law to uphold here anyways.”

Jacob’s brows knit together, obvious puzzlement swimming in his eyes. That expression crosses into bewilderment as Sybille releases him, swings her bag around, and sinks to her knees between his legs. “What are you --” but he trails off as she pulls a first aid kit from the main pouch. The little metal box pops open and she quickly sets to work, cleaning and tending to his wounds. After a long moment of tense silence, he asks, “Why?”

She lifts her head and looks him dead in the eyes. “Wolves mate for life, cher.”

He blinks, almost dumbly, and then the realization hits him. She watches it happen and before she can do or say anything more, his large hands take her face and drag her towards him. He leans down and their lips crash together. It’s messy and wet -- tastes of blood and dirt and gunpowder -- and when they eventually part, he’s significantly more breathless than she is. Giving her cheek one last parting caress, he releases her and allows her to finish treating his injuries. Once she’s done, she packs her kit and turns to face him. “You got any Bliss oil?”

“No.”

She sighs. “Well, I guess you’re just gonna have to muscle through the pain ‘til I get you someplace safe.”

He barks a laugh. “I’ll manage.”

“If you’re sure,” she says, rising to her feet. She leans forward, bracing herself and extending her hand to him. “C’mon. Alley-oop.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, Jesus, Jacob, I can’t just summon a vehicle out of thin air. How else am I supposed to get you down?” Her fingers bend in a beckoning motion. “Get up.”

“You sure I ain’t, uh…” he gestures to his whole body.

Sybille laughs, something loud and true. “Sugar, I carried heavier in basic.” She drags him forward and, as gingerly as she can, heaves his massive body onto her shoulders. Steadying herself, she takes a deep breath. “Buckle up,” she says, and she begins trekking down the mountain. 

The hike is slow, careful, and silent. Not a word passes between them for miles, not until Jacob’s body relaxes ever so slightly. She’s not sure if he’s unconscious or caught in a semi-lucid state. Regardless of which it is, she says, “Cher, you’ve got Hell to pay. And we have a whole lot of things we need to talk about.” 

But knowing Jacob, Sybille reckons that those two things might be one and the same.

#jacob x deputy #jacob x female deputy #this kinda ran away from me #the prompt fits well enough with a version of how that mountain fight goes down #that once i started imagining it i just couldn't stop #also the more i look at this the more ooc for jacob it gets but whatever i've had this interaction in my head for a while #it was nice to put some actual words to it! #oc: deputy sybille la roux #thank you again for the prompt ahhh #anyway rip to sybille who thinks that she can fix him 😔 he does eventually succeed in making her worse #natesofrellis #wombat writes #r: define your meaning of war