#✵ ┊ &. TRINKETS ⇀ ( remember tonight for it is the beginning of always ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heartf4iry · 9 months

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💘 hihi! :) it's been a long while... but i finally decided 2 write something! ellie plays the guitar 4 u! i wrote this a while ago n just revised, so... ermmm, enjoy! mwaaah 💋

cw: none!! :D my first fluff piece on tumblr tho, like. ever. beware.

ellie’s room is dim, lamp casting a honey glow that warms the poster-filled walls, a comforting air swimming about in the mellow atmosphere. her room has pretty much become your room, too, things like clothes and underwear and tiny trinkets littering themselves around her space.

tonight was just another one of your sleepovers. you’d watched movies, ate bag after bag of stale, yet buttery popcorn, raged over stupid board games, and even went for your nightly can’t-sleep-walks down the block and back.

ellie’s bedside clock reads past midnight, but you’re sure it’s beyond that with how tired and restless you are. luckily, the two of you remain alone in the home, so, curfew was out the window.

…well, there was joel asleep in his room down the hall, along with his thundering snores, but he didn't count.

it's one of those nights where neither of you can sleep and the nuisance by the name of boredom keeps you awake. now in your last resorts, ellie's sat in her desk chair facing you, eyes on her guitar while you admired the scene before you.

her freckles wink in the toasty light. her fingers work skillfully against the strings that sound an unknown, yet delicate tune. she hums lyrics under her breath of a song that lie unfinished in her journal, but, you remember her ticklish whisper against your ear referring to the words being about you one dazed, giggly night.

you’re laid on your stomach on her bed, fiddling with a tiny astronaut figure she's named neil, or space guy, or… whatever. you’d stick to neil for now as you listened to her play.

she then stops, exhaling a deep, dreadful sigh. she rocks side to side in the chair, lifting her eyes to study you. taking in your eyes, your soft, in slight parted lips. you pretend not to feel her gaze that makes you burn all over with a bashful smile, focusing on tiny neil in your hands.

“stop staring,” you mutter, flashing hot all over when her eyes don't shy away. ellie was always the type to gawk at pretty girls wherever, whenever. whether it was a double take (to see some ass) or just a simple and purely, unintentional perverted stare, the action was just an ellie thing to do. it was something that she knew would be deemed as problematic, or just fucking creepy, but—fast forward a few years later, and a few motivational pep talks from trusty wingman dina, here she was with one of the pretty girls she caught herself staring at the most. not even that, but currently in her room, on her bed, and ellie thinks she just might burst.

ellie shakes her head, placing her forearm on the body of the guitar to rest her chin atop her arm.

“can't. you're too pretty not to,” she rasps, voice low and teasing that urges a plethora of tingles to rise in your stomach. “literally shutup.” you groan, masking the complaint with a breathy laugh.

she chuckles, “what? can't look at my girlfriend now?”

“no you.. creep.” you break into a sudden yawn, the woozy sensation of sleep begging to bury you in its blanket of slumber.

“tired?” ellie notices, yawning right after you. so it really is contagious, she thinks. your lazy nodding is simple confirmation of her question.

“well, i could… play a song for you? anything you want.” ellie begins, grinning once your eyes catch hers. “got any suggestions?” you hum in curiosity, not even a second passing before a song appears in your mind.

“oh! the glue song!”

ellie’s eyes narrow, brows dropping when the words slip from your mouth. “the... glue song?”

you roll your eyes in obviousness at her confusion. “yes, the glue song. by that girl? umm... beabadoobee?”

“…beabawho?”

“ellie, the one! that’s like, i’ve never known someone like youuu… huuu...”

silence. the room was so still you could hear the crickets outside chirping in the grass. ellie just stares at you with an anticipating smile when you stop singing the line, and under an instance you feel shy and embarrassed and small under her burning gaze.

“okay, yeah? ...go on.”

“noo..”

“keep going! babe—“

you huff out a sigh, rolling onto your back. your head hangs off the edge of the bed now and everything, even puzzled ellie, is upside down. “c’mon, will you just play it already? m’tired… and… y’know the song right?”

ellie snickers, her feet swinging back and forth under the chair in subtle amusement. “of course i do. but you’re definitely singing it to me someday. no take backs.”

you blow your eyes out in playful annoyance. “yeahyeah. whatever.”

as if she was going to start, she looks down at her guitar before her eyebrows raise, “anddd what do i get in return?”

you smile, a sly one, “hmm... a thousand kisses and, a trip inside my space exhibit.”

ellie freezes. “holy shit! babe? you own a space exhibit? sounds sick, we should go sometime.”

“i meant my—ellie.”

“okay. okay. bossy. anything for my girlfriend, yeah? my favorite girlfriend,” ellie peeks at you through her lashes, green eyes twinkling a blend of silvery emerald in the low lamplight. she grins at the way your expression melts into warmth, though it's hard to tell when you're upside down.

“el, i think... i’m your only girlfriend.”

“yeah, but... you're my favorite. there's a difference, babe.”

“ell-“

“the song. i know.” she exhales a dry chuckle, “justtt messin’ with you.”

ellie adjusts her posture and drums her fingertips against the strings to develop a familiar feel.

you're quick to flip on your side and plop your head against her pillow, shimming around to get comfortable for your own personal late night show—staring the talented and sexy, ellie williams.

ellie shuffles in her seat before grabbing the neck of her guitar, the other going over the body. her brows pinch inward when she tries to recall the tune, nodding in confirmation to herself once the familiar notes appear in mind.

she then halts to look at you, “ready?”

“yep. song's been stuck in my head all day.” you break into a smile out of pure excitement, and ellie chuckles at the sight.

finger antsy against the strings, she takes a deep breath, as she always does before she plays; especially for you. “whew, okay. uh, okay.” ellie’s played countless times in a setting like this, in her room with you, home alone while she sat on the bed and you watched in the chair or vice versa. yet, she's still found herself jittery, unsure, doubtful, of her own abilities. even in the comfort of your presence. one of ellie’s fears: failing to impress her girlfriend.

as if you had read her mind, your soft line of reassurance sucks her out of her busy, crowded mind. “ellie, hey, s’okay. promise i'll love it.”

ellie looks down at her feet, then up to you. “you sure?”

“so sure. i always do. ever heard of... wasshisname... jimi hendrix? you're like him.” you giggle, and ellie flashes a sheepish grin, looking down to her leg she didn't even realize was bouncing. it stops. “oh shit—uh, jimi? definitely not him babe.”

“mm, well i think so. c’mere.” you lean forward with your hands planted on her bed, lips puckered. “kiss for extra promising.”

ellie breaks into a warm smile at your mumbled words and reciprocates the action. not once, but twice, just because. in all honesty, your lips against hers did help simmer a few bustling nerves. even if she was backstage of an awaiting, roaring crowd, ellie thinks the tiny, feathery kiss would root away every bit of anxiousness.

after a moment of stillness, she begins, and the first few strums make your heart flutter. you grow all warm and fuzzy, similar to the first time she's played guitar for you. the urge to melt into mush right then and there and pool at her feet is strong when she was playing like that.

all you can do is watch her, hearts practically pumping in your eyes. ellie catches your lovesick expression, her lips twitching into a smile as she continues. the tune is cozy, and you didn’t know if it was ellie's playing lulling you or if it was past midnight—the dimly lit room failing to do you any good as your eyes became heavier, and heavier.

when ellie begins singing, oh so gentle and velvety sweet—i've never known someone like youuuuu, her eyes don't dare to leave yours, singularly singing to you like you were the only one in the whole wide world.

a cheesy smile spreads onto your lips, your cheeks rising in romantic warmth before ellie's the first to look away, eyes on her fingers that pluck the strings, carefully going over each note so it could be perfect, just for you, her "favorite" only girlfriend.

you don't remember much, other than ellie... and ellie being cute and the best girlfriend on earth and... oh yeah, ellie, before your eyes closed. when she’s nearing the end, you’re already softly snoring.

with one last strum, ellie sets the guitar down against the desk, and can’t help but smile fondly at the sight. your breathing slow and your expression peaceful, a silky golden glow resting over your features.

ellie doesn't know if she's ever loved a person as much as she's loved you. what she does know, is that this will be a thing she'll forever look forward to. as sappy as that sounds, she believes nights like these with her guitar and favorite person would be cherished in her heart, endlessly.

she’s glad she was able to get you to sleep, knowing you'd say something about her being the perfect lullaby when you wake tomorrow. a silent chuckle leaves her lips at the thought.

ellie leans down to place a shy kiss on your forehead, switching off the lamp and whispering, “night babe, hope you loved it.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams drabble

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sojuyae · 1 year

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no return

dazai osamu / reader + ??? / reader

notes: mild yandere themes, u drink alcohol, inspired by the manhwa 'a false confession' (massive rec hehe) drabble..? oneshot..? i don't know what to call this since it's not really fleshed out and not given that much thought so maybe its just a random blurb hahaha not proofread i just click post and never look back thats just how i am

the moment you step into the balcony, your legs almost gave out. your hand having to lean on the vine ornamented pillar as support. stillness draping over despite the festivity just behind the door.

just a few feet beyond you, stood your senior. even with your vision hazy and eyes half lidded, you think you can see his silhouette leaning over the railings, his back turned against you, coat billowing in the wind, tousling the hair of his that you've always wanted to tuck behind his ear.

he looks particularly different, today.

the man of your affections — whose hands that are always resting upon your shoulders, his touch lingering a far too much for someone who is only concerned about his coworker, muttering words of 'good job!' every time he looks over your computer to see the progress of the report he assigned.

he, who is always eager to bring you trinkets of all kinds after being assigned in a case, and if you had the ability similar to his, you would've caught on the fact that the trinkets are always given by him personally, rather than your unfortunate coworkers whose gifts are left in their desks.

yet frown would replace your previous smile once he pulls away with a pat; when you remember that everyone got the same gift as you did.

(oh, how you lamented every second that passes without him knowing how you felt.)

but that will change tonight — your intoxicated self decided to confess your long time admiration for your senior. 'and if he rejects your love, then you can just say that you were too drunk! it's easy!' tanizaki said so, as he handed you an alcoholic drink, and you shouldn't have trusted any words that comes out of the orange haired mans mouth.

even if the others knew how bad you felt about him, you prefer to believe that you could keep your feelings to yourself.

with a determination only a drunken one can have, you step further away from the loud music of the party and towards the man.

a heavy breath escapes your lips as you stand just a few feet behind him.

"sir," you first regard him with his title you've always used during work, and a part of you wonders if you'll be able to call him endearments you've always wanted to say after he accepts your confession.

you don't think you can look at him right now.

"i've been thinking about this a lot," you begin, hushed but nonetheless made for him to hear. "i, don't know if, i should really say this…" your eyes drift down to your feet, deliberating whether you should beat around the bush.

but you know you can't, this feelings of yours is too much; if you don't get to say it now, what will become of your sentiments? locked behind a glass heart that threatened to burst every time he's near?

"i really, really like you, sir." you finally say, your hands harshly gripping the sides of your clothes, scrunching them, wrinkles beginning to form on the flimsy fabric.

you refuse to meet his gaze.

silence ensues, the only sound heard; the loud rustling of the leaves against themselves.

"..."

ah, to think that you get rejected without even him saying anything.

"why?" he asks, then a hope ignites deep inside you.

"i just, really like it when you treat us kindly, you always go out your way to make sure i'm okay, your dedication to the agency is admirable, and i... just really like everything about you…"

"that's what any superior would do..." he replies coldly.

his words does not even travel first to your ears — it travels straight to your heart, so harshly that if it traveled to your ears first, you're certain you'd go deaf.

you stagger, the adrenaline the alcohol provided leaving your system.

then, he grabs your arm just in time, his bandaged hand surprisingly holding you delicately, as if he expects you to be gone once he pulls away.

"osamu. call me osamu, not sir." he says tenderly as he rests his hand on your shoulder, his arms coiling around you like a snake to a branch.

you smile gently as you bury your head in his chest. you can smell the faint scent of alcohol on his shirt, how strange, you've always thought he smell more like the sweets he'd always insist on eating. "osa—" the remaining syllables does not leave your tongue.

he rests his head on your shoulders, his curly coffee-like locks of hair tickling your neck.

osamu?

your eyes drift to his neck — are those bandages?

coffee-like?

dread fills your veins. dazai pulls back, your drunken haze along with it, finally able to look at him properly. his warm palm rests on your jaw. the dull brown eyes you’ve grown fearful of seems to reflect the stars, looking at you so, lovingly.

you don’t know what you’re supposed to be surprised of, the fact that a coworker whom you are scared of is looking at you softly, or the fact that he just accepted a confession that wasn’t meant to be his.

"should we keep our relationship a secret?" he asks with deceptive bashfulness.

"sir..?" you stammer as you try to look in ranpo's viridescent eyes for an answer to why he's holding your hand tightly.

"i've always thought that you…" his brows are knitted, refusing to meet your eyes, his own narrowed as he looks at the bracelet that adorns your wrist, an item begrudgingly accepted from dazai.

(he wonders if you would be mad if he forcibly ripped its beads out of you.)

he clicked his tongue at his own thoughts, shuffling to get a comfortable spot where he rested appropriately on his office chair.

"since when were you both close?"

#bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #yandere dazai osamu x reader #this was so all over the place #like always #been having these thoughts since i read the manhwa #i think ranpo knowing ur feelings and liking u back but still not acting upon them UNTIL someone else garners your attention is very real t #me #giggles

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worriedvision · 1 year

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Romantic anxiety (part 3)- Kaveh

Gender neutral reader, Kaveh gets hurt lol. I won't reveal anything, but I will at the reader gets into a better place. Part 2 here.

"Good evening. Tonight, I will be-" you trail off, spotting Kavehs partner in the audience. It was clear they were trying to torment you, that smug grin on their face as you locked eyes. You clear your throat, picking up from where you left off. They begin yawning loudly, looking to see if anyone else started yawning. When that didn't work, they rolled their eyes before starting to think up ways to ruin your lecture.

So, they started asking questions that were answered in your lecture at the end. To their displeasure, however, someone in the audience immediately answered with a short answer saying they would have known if they had listened. It didn't help that the audience all nodded, clearly fed up with them yawning loudly when you were talking.

At your next lecture, the same person was there listening. Well, both of them were. Kavehs partner, once again, started to think up ways to ruin your self esteem. They took some of their friends, whispering to each other about your appearance and how they felt bad for Kaveh as he had to deal with you.

However, it only made you more determined to prove you were good with your lectures. They walked out in the middle of the lecture, hoping that would lead to you fumbling, but you didn't. That seemed to grate on them, so they turn around, letting out a huff.

"Please do not interrupt the lecture." The same audience member tuts. "Some of us are here to learn."

Humiliated, they walk away silently.

The lecture rounds off, and after answering some interesting questions, the audience member approaches you.

"Are you a wine connoisseur?" He asks. "I would like to treat you to a wine tasting session."

"Sure!"

Kaveh had been in the honeymoon phase of his new relationship for a while longer than the relationship with you. It helped that they always hugged his arm when they went shopping, him treating his partner to small trinkets.

Alhaitham, however, knew this person was a gold digger for lack of a better term. They constantly looked at expensive things, Kaveh thinking they meant to ask for the small trinket that was above the item, and they couldn't hide the disappointment when Kaveh wasn't looking at them.

So, Alhaitham decided to grace Kaveh with a warning.

"Tell me, does your partner make you happy?" He asks.

"Of course they do." Kaveh scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"I'm telling you now, they're using you. They believe you have a lot of mor-"

"That isn't true! They love me for me, and they aren't afraid to show it."

"Well, when this turns out to be false, just remember - I told you so." Alhaitham warns, walking out.

Alhaitham turned out to be a very nice man. He was the one who stood up for you when one of those friends of Kavehs partner tried to embarrass you, he took you out for meals, and when he didn't have anything urgent to do he spent more time with you.

The meals out became dates, and you learned more about him. He didn't like going for jobs that had high ranking titles, the salary not really what he was after. He enjoyed his life as a scribe, and he was a real good one. He helps you with your lessons, giving you tips that could help after you asked him for honest feedback.

The relationship became more romantic than platonic over a month, your feelings starting to build up with him. He didn't seem to feel the same, but you knew better than to assume. He was just naturally quiet with those things, holding his cards close to his chest.

You confessed to him when he had been dealing with the serious issues the Akedemiya had with the higher ups. You didn't know much about what happened, and you decided to write a confession letter to him when he didn't hear your knocking.

You didn't hear from him, and you decided to tell Tighnari about your feelings for Alhaitham as well. When you voiced your concern that he saw you as clingy, he reassured you this wasn't the case. He couldn't tell you much, but he did say there were currently issues with what was happening in the Akedemiya. He didn't know what, but he knew based on Cynos message it was serious.

Alhaitham showed up at your door out of nowhere one day, him finding your confession letter.

"I apologise for my lack of time." Alhaitham starts. "I wanted to tell you that I do return your feelings. When I get things sorted, I would like to treat you."

He couldn't stay for long, and you didn't know how long he'd be away, you pulled him in and kissed him on the lips. He leans in, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss, and after a few seconds, he pulls away. He can't help but smile, knowing you were the only one he could be comfortable with being vulnerable.

Kaveh, meanwhile, had been away for his own work. Unfortunately, his partner broke up with him after an argument where they asked him why they couldn't buy them nice things. He, then, explains his financial situation. His partner scoffs, throwing in an insensitive comment about how he managed to cause the end of, now, two relationships as a result of him being broke.

His long walk home, he can't help but think about you. Perhaps he could court you, knowing you had enough confidence to show him the affection he craved in public.

He returned home, unaware you were in the house waiting for Alhaitham.

"_. What a lovely surprise." Kaveh blissfully sighs out. He looks at what you're wearing, realising you were wearing Alhaitham's cape, and he laughs. "Did my roommate leave that lying out?"

"Darling, do you know where - ah, there it is." Alhaitham smiles warmly. "...you look really cute with it on." He walks over, kissing you on the cheek. "I'm afraid I'll need to have it with me, however. I have important business to complete, and I need this for warmth."

"Aww, can't I be your source of warmth?" You pout, forgetting your ex had been hoping to court you.

"You are so smart, you know that?" Alhaitham sighs out, you getting up to follow him. "Kaveh, was there something you needed?"

Kaveh can't bring any words, processing how happy you were with his roommate. The fact you were able to be sappy with him in front of Kaveh, it told him he was far too late.

"We should do a double date some time." Alhaitham teases, Kaveh still silent. "Unless, of course, you realised how horrible they were."

Kaveh did realise how horrible they were, it was just far too late. Unfortunately, he was that desperate for affection that he didn't think twice about dating them.

Any now, you had moved on.

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #angst #alhaitham #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh x gender neutral reader #tighnari

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blainesebastian · 1 year

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birthday (ccg universe)

words: 1,683 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @whoreforbrownies): “luci and austin bake and decorate a cake for ccg's birthday” warnings: none notes: gonna re-open my requests but please be patient with me. i hope ya’ll know i give so much to requests and sometimes i feel overwhelmed. i know waiting is sometimes hard, but i try to put so much into asks and make it worth it! please visit my ‘requests i’m working on page’ for updates. and feel free to leave warm messages of encouragement :) xo tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

You've always been a big fan of your birthday—ever since you were little, your parents would make the most effort in celebrating you in a full week. Baking cookies, small trinkets to open up, special breakfasts and dinners, and then of course a big homemade cake with a lot of candles. It's one of your fondest memories of growing up and it's something you couldn't wait to pass on to your own daughter as she got older.

It's not that you wanted to put your own birthday celebrations on the backburner but it's just one of those things that tends to happen when you get caught in the busyness of life. You and Austin are wrapped up passionate projects and raising your daughter. You can't believe how fast time moves anyways, the fact that she's already two and so involved in the world, sponging up anything she can learn. It's pretty incredible to watch.

"She's down for the count." You tell Austin as you wander into your bedroom, your husband stretched out on the mattress. He's flipping through a script as he leans back against some pillows piled against the headboard, setting them down to look over at you. A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth, "Four books tonight."

"Soon we'll be up to ten," He jokes, closing it to set aside on the nightstand.

You hum lightly, moving to crawl into bed next to him. You turn on your side to face him, covering your mouth as a soft yawn leaves your lips, "She's very insistent—or we'll just have to invest in some novels."

He purses his lips, "Sure we could start on Jurassic Park or somethin'."

You let out a soft laugh, "Maybe. She's already naming different dinos out of picture books."

Austin smiles, reaching out to touch your hair. He tucks it behind your ear, fingers trailing down over your shoulder and arm in soft intimacy. There are a few quiet moments shared, just spending time, soaking any time together because sometimes it's far too fleeting. Austin has some time with the script he's just gotten before he has to begin going to table reads, then it's being gone for months at a time. Something you think you're used to until it actually happens.

Austin draws his thumb down your jawline, "Someone's birthday tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows and let out a soft laugh, leaning back a bit until your back is fully on the bed. You look at the ceiling and run a hand through your hair, "Oh man, I completely forgot." Not on purpose, just...so many other things going on. You love that Austin's remembered but you hope he knows he's not obligated to have a whole day planned out for you or anything.

"Luci's been very serious about bakin' you a cake for the past few days."

You turn your head to look at him, your cheeks warming at the sentiment. Luci is one of the sweetest things, must get that from Austin. Honestly, a day spent at home with cake baking and maybe some sort of blanket fort in the living room sounds like a great birthday well spent—though, knowing Jillian there's probably a 'surprise party' in the works.

Reaching out your hand to touch Austin's chest, your fingers play with the collar of his shirt. "You gonna show her how to bake a cake tomorrow? Because that's pretty cute."

He raises his eyebrows, amused, "Oh really?"

You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, speaking against them, "Really."

Austin steals another kiss as you begin to pull away, nipping at your lower lip, "If that's all it takes to get you wound up, m'gonna have to start bakin' a lot more for you."

You can't help but laugh, Austin resting his body over yours. Your legs open up slightly to accommodate his body and you begin to squirm a little as he places kisses along your jawline and cheeks, any spot he can reach. "Stop," You giggle but you definitely don't want him to.

And he doesn't, cupping your cheek to kiss you deeper.

It’s not like you wake up especially early to spy on your husband and daughter (not exactly). You actually found yourself sleeping in, not waking up to an alarm, your arm stretching across the sheets for Austin but coming up empty. When you manage to lift your head, you can hear the clanking of bowls and silverware and soft music playing from the kitchen. And you already know that Austin is going to tell Luci they can bring you this cake in bed but…you don’t really want to miss out on seeing them bake it either.

You can be totally crafty, just a few moments (minutes) of observation. Your intention is definitely not to get caught because you’re sure Luci wants it to be a surprise.

It’s clear that both Austin and Luci have been up for a decent amount of time because when you peer into the kitchen and lean against the doorframe (luckily it’s behind where both of them are standing at the island counter, so you think you’re safe) you see that Austin’s set a baked chocolate cake in front of Luci. They’re ready to do icing.

Austin turns towards your daughter who’s standing on this platform that’s the height of a high chair, banisters in place so she doesn’t accidently step off the side. “Alright, how should we decorate it?”

“Dino!” Luci exclaims with a soft clap.

He smirks, shaking his head, “You wanna decorate it with a dino theme? What makes you think mama will like that?”

Luci grins this large toothy smile that’s so cheesy that it makes your heart swell—it’s literally one of your most favorite things that she does. “Cause I like dinos.”

Austin laughs, reaching into a nearby cabinet to grab a few things to make an icing, especially green food coloring, “Well, can’t argue with that logic.” He then opens up a drawer, “What kind of sprinkles?” He picks her up into his arms, holding her over the drawer so she can point and reach.

There’s leftover dino sprinkles from cupcakes they made Luci for her second birthday, so she selects those (of course) and, “Heart sprinples!”

“Heart sprinkles are such a good choice,” Austin approves, picking up that bottle to set on the counter, “Cause we love momma a lot, right?”

“Yeah.” Luci agrees and you swear you feel your heart beat right into your throat.

Austin presses a kiss to her temple and sets her down back on the platform, making sure she’s secure and settled before beginning to mix the icing together (with a lot of Luci’s help, obviously). You’re certain that this cake and icing are going to taste extra surgery but, that’s how you know it was made with a lot of love.

You pull away from the kitchen to walk back towards the bedroom once they start decorating the cake, not wanting to get caught. You move into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, turning to look over your shoulder as Austin knocks and slips into the space ten minutes later. You look at him through the mirror as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

He smells like a bakery mixed with his own familiar scent. You smile, leaning back into him, closing your eyes and breathing him in as he presses a few kisses to your shoulder.

“How long were you watchin’?”

You purse your lips, fixing your gaze on him, “No idea what you’re talking about, I just woke up.”

Austin lets out a soft laugh which is mostly air leaving his nose, “Mhm, right. I hate to break it to you but you are not stealthy.”

“Is that anything to say to your wife on her birthday?” You tease, tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He smiles, turning your body until your facing him, your arms moving to rest on his shoulders. He hums lightly, nuzzling your noses together before he playfully nips at your lower lip,

“You’re right, happy birthday.” Austin cups both sides of your face, pulling you in a kiss, gently pressing your back into the sink. He smiles against your mouth, running his thumb along your jawline, “And you’re not stealthy.”

You laugh, playfully pushing on his chest to get him to back up so you can walk out of the bathroom together. Austin insists on covering your eyes with his hands as you get towards the kitchen. You grin, leaning back against his chest and holding onto his wrists for balance as you walk,

“Mommmeee!” Luci squeals in excitement and you feel a solid, warm weight hit the bottom of your legs. You chuckle, reaching down to brush your hand through her hair.

“Morning—I smell something sweet.”

“Yep, Luc you wanna tell mom what we made for her?” Austin asks as he removes his hands.

“Cake!” Luci exclaims and you gasp at the messily decorated cake. There’s green icing everywhere (all over the cake but mostly staining Luci’s hands and cheeks), and then a spattering of the sprinkles you saw them both pick out. Honestly, it’s one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my gosh!” You grin, picking her up into your arms as you approach the counter, “Is this…is this dino themed?” You ask, tickling her side. “This is great, because you know who my favorite dino is? You.”

Luci giggles and squirms as Austin pops some candles into the cake and lights them before she hugs you tightly around your neck. You press a few kisses into her shoulder, squeezing her gently,

“Alright, blow out the candles.” Austin smiles.

“Make a wish!” Your daughter insists, clapping her hands together.

You smirk, curling her hair around her ear before glancing at your husband. He leans over the corner of the counter and presses a kiss to your temple.

How could you possibly wish for anything? You’ve got everything you need right here.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler drabble #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 1 year

Text

【It’s You】

[Bilibili]: 每天和李泽言困觉

[Weibo]: 今天不想去工作

[Permission]: ♡

⌚ Please do not repost ⌚

[Transcript version under the cut]

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

[kids] Hahahaha he made the little girl cry. (x3)

[Young Victor] To make amends… how about I treat you to a dessert?

[Young MC] This pudding was made by you! That’s amazing!

[Young MC] Dà gēge*, what’s your name?

[Young Victor] Victor.

[R&S Flashback]

[ regarding the meaning of gēge, please refer to this post here: ♡ ]

—

[Victor’s Dad] The pendant on your keys… it’s very unique. Did she give it to you?

– Mm. She always loves tossing around these little trinkets.

[Victor’s Dad] She likes giving you things she likes. That’s very good, isn’t it?

[Victor’s Dad] Don’t always talk about work with her.

– I know.

[Exclusive Radio: Mind Quest Preference]

–

「 It looks like human beings are truly strange. At times, they actually want to belong to someone, to feel at ease. 」

「 Now, you only need to answer a question of mine. Have you sobered up?

Since you’re sober, then remember everything about tonight. 」

「 I’ve always considered myself to be a very time-conscious person. But when I’m together with you, I always lose track of time. Each day I’ve spent with you, without even realizing it, has already merged us into one. 」

「 I’ve never doubted that you could stand shoulder to shoulder with me. Whenever I think that I’ve seen your entire heart, you can always tell me that I can go even one step further. 」

「 Then listen a little more clearly. Until the end of our time, never let go of my hand. 」

「 When a person likes someone, it’s not all conveyed by what they say, but rather by what they do. This is the simplest of truths. 」

「 How come you still need to ask me such a simple question? The dummy is a dummy. Since you don’t understand, I’ll break it down word by word and tell you. 」

「 You are the most unique and unmatched existence I’ve ever encountered in all my life. You are also the most beautiful scenery to me. 」

「 You’ve already plucked the star. Aren’t you going to hold onto it a little more tightly? 」

「 I love you. 」

「 It has been the truth for every year in the past, and it will be the same for every year in the future. 」

「 From the very beginning, this pudding has always belonged to you. 」

「 When it comes to us, there has never been a second possibility. 」

「 The most beautiful rose... I’m looking at the one I like the most right now.」

「 My dummy. 」

「 I’ll be by your side and give all of this in your hands. 」

「 It’s someone you like the most, and someone who likes you the most too. 」

「 All I want is your time. 」

「 From this day forward, the life that you want, I will give it all to you. 」

「 My dummy. 」

「 My wife. 」

*the final “my wife” is from west moon btw~

—

[Permission]

!! Yes, of course. Just add the source~ if more overseas players can see it, that’s even better~ *happy bunny emoji*

—

#literally the first thing popping up on my TL early in the morning & made me bawl my eyes out. JOIN ME😭😭😭#they were so fast in texting me back that actually the first thing I did today after waking up was editing this video akshdhdjfhj 😭😭😭#mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer

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gag-magazine · 1 year

Text

Weekends

By Jade Raven

Friday

I never like to remember what we are made of. There’s something strange about knowing what’s inside my body. At some point, we learn from a scrape on our knee, that there is blood beneath our skin, and our parents warn us not to break our bones, which we figure must be what we feel when we crack our knuckles, and it must be what is pushing against our lungs when we breathe and breathe. We must have walked this Earth for hundreds and hundreds of thousands of years, not knowing what we are made from, except from the violent injuries that left torn limbs. At least until we got so curious we opened ourselves up ourselves, and now that we know we must think of it: meaty tendons stuck to each rubbery ligament, wrapped around our bones, blood pulsating through a million strands of tiny veins. Each so fragile and volatile, all perfectly stretching, beating, binding us into place. I feel my nails protruding from my fingertips, and the follicles of my hair buried beneath white soft skin. Layer upon layer we are built from nothing into something in a perfectly imperfect manner. My house of animated flesh, the suit for my nerves, carrying out my commands unto the world. And what to do with it? We spend our lives asking this question.

Though now, our bodies are not our bodies alone; they are adorned with fabrics and paints, pastes, scents, and trinkets of all kinds. Countless artifacts to choose from, each morning and sometimes nights become ceremonial. This is always the way a Friday night out begins. It feels safe to stick to this ritual, whether with people or not, it is necessary to forgo transformation as I prepare in many ways for the night to become something, of course, akin to myself, but just not quite exactly the same. There is an anticipation of how in an hour, two hours, the energy of my body will be changed entirely. How my blood will rush up to my head, and quickly through the ventricles of my heart. My muscles tense and relax and then lie numb under my excited skin. And my head; Completely detached more and more as the night goes on, painted and prim, it rolls around my neck completely of its own accord. The thousand bits of energy rushing through my nerves all overwhelming my poor little brain, but still I love it. It rarely matters what music is playing tonight. Lately rounds of punk rock, house, or techno, each admittedly bearing with it an entirely different energy, but none failing to provide a veil of safety over my eyes and ears, and each of my other senses; always turned up so loud I can mostly just hear my own heartbeat. Yes, it’s going to be that kind of Friday night.

Saturday

Saturdays often prove to me a few things; the pressure of autonomy, the fluidity of ability and life in general, and that really, you can get a lot done in just a day.

Also, when you’ve had that certain kind of Friday night, your body still remembers on Saturday. It leaks over into the fresh morning, and for this reason, I like to take Saturday mornings easy. I’ll rise leisurely, careful to enjoy the moments going by, pick my clothes out, and stare into the mirror. There is a certain obligation of conscious self awareness to pay attention to what we look like. But on Saturday’s, I try to find the mirror a playful dimension to the best of my ability. I figure that if there are going to be not one but two worlds in which one imitates me, the kindest thing I could do is show it something happy to replicate. Even if it’s only on Saturdays.

I suppose it has something to do with the fact that unlike Fridays, where the daytime is occupied, and Sundays where instead it’s the night that holds a limit anticipating Monday, Saturdays are the days wrapped in complete freedom. So then, I’ll get breakfast, and coffee, and I’ll probably listen to a song or two as I go about it. I’ll squint my eyes into the sun, or stare at the clouds, rain, take a minute to listen to the layers of sound flowing right into my brain. My head cools down, and I stretch my limbs until they feel like jelly. And I’m afraid I’ll have to talk about Saturdays for less than I could, for they are always the pinnacles of potential for the very best and worst thoughts I could ever have. So instead, I’ll suggest, perhaps a little bit naively, to go to the beach, go somewhere big and vast, and see something more grand than Monday or Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and even more so than Friday night. Then, maybe if you want, consume everything you can reach, and make it last the rest of the week.

Sunday

There is a special kind of love dedicated to Sundays, for reasons I can understand but have never known. Honestly, in fact, I might as well not exist at this point. But my body hasn’t quit its habit of a heartbeat, so I’ll gather the courage and get a cup of coffee.

#writing #prose #berkeley art #magazine #publication

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enby-hawke · 2 years

Text

Chapter 16- Honesty

Tw: parental abuse, misogynistic slur, discussions of slavery

Ship: Malcolm/Leandra

Words: 7363

Read From Beginning

Leandra spent the evening pawning off all of the many trinkets her parents had given her: first edition books, finely made dresses too opulent to be worn for any real occasion, and jewelry, oh so much jewelry. Any time there’d been a new occasion, there’d been a new piece of jewelry. The only thing Leandra still had gifted from her parents was her lute, which she loved too much to part with. She had effectively cleaned out all the pawn shops in Hightown and Lowtown and Leandra felt free. Freer than she had in a long time. The money was promptly wired to Mara’s account and while Leandra knew the money would run out eventually, she’d bought Mara some time.

The Council of Five’s letter was still burning in Leandra’s pocket as Mara drove her back to her parent’s mansion. The porch light was still on and she could feel her spine stiffen in anticipation of the fight that was to come. She had no idea what she would say or what she should do. But she knew she needed to confront her parents.

Leandra sat in Mara’s front seat of her SUV, her hands twisting as she fidgeted with her dress, making sure she looked presentable. She glanced at the front door.

Mara placed a hand over Leandra’s. “No matter what they do, or say, you have options. I will always be here to have your back.”

Leandra’s eyes pricked with tears, sudden grief overcoming her. “I’m just so ashamed of them.”

Mara pulled her into a hug. “Then tell them that. Maybe it will mean something coming from you.”

Leandra felt like she shouldn’t dare to hope that there was any way her parents could change. And yet she couldn’t help but try to get through to them. She held Mara, grateful to have something in her life that made sense.

“I might need a place to crash tonight, well many nights if this goes badly, Maker save me.”

Mara pulled away and brushed Leandra’s bangs into place before cupping her cheek. “Your home is my home.” Then she pinched Leandra’s cheek teasingly. “And with the money you gave me today, I have time to look for another job.”

Leandra rubbed her cheek, a little sore from Mara’s sharp nails. “Let’s hope you won’t need to.” Leandra sighed deeply as her back hit the car seat, sending a few tears dangling from her eyelashes down into her lap.

Her hands and feet were shaky as she got out of the car, her legs wobbly in her heels as she fumbled with the empty suitcases out of the trunk. She tried to open the door to find it was locked. She floundered for the keys in her purse, but the door opened on her just as she pulled them out.

It was one of her parent’s many servants, a quiet elven lad with slick black hair and almond skin. He was rather skittish around her and her family and was always overly polite and quick to leave so Leandra never got around to asking for his name.

“Lady Amell, your parents missed you at dinner. They are expecting you in the study.” His voice was high with false injected cheer.

That was code for ‘your parents are in a bad mood.’ Well, it wasn’t like what Leandra had to say would make them feel any better.

Leandra nodded. “Thank you. I’ll go see them.” She tried to remember all the servants’ names, but there were so many that it was easy for her to confuse Gabby with Abby, Arianna with Brianna, and Chloe with Zoe. And her parents were never satisfied with anyone’s work so new Dobs were being hired to replace Bobs every day.

Leandra entered the foyer to see the fireplace was nice and bright. Maids were doing the evening dusting and vacuuming and they curtsied as Leandra approached. She barely got to the stairs when her parents burst out of the study, looking infuriated. In her mother’s hand was the letter explaining to her parents that she had sold her things to pay for Mara’s salary and to not call the Guard.

“How dare you!?” her mother screeched, scattering the maids from their work like mice running from the light.

Her father was angry, but his anger was quieter, like a snake in the grass. He slithered behind her mother, giving her a strong foundation to lay her hand on. “Leandra Gloriana Amell, we are both very disappointed in you. You betrayed us. And for what? Some servant?”

Leandra felt unsteady at her parent’s united front but she was determined not to be shaken. She calmly set her suitcases on the bottom step and rooted herself firmly to the ground. “What choice did you give me? You drained my accounts.” She crossed her arms, glaring at them.

“They were not your things to sell. They belonged to the family!” her mother screamed, shaking the glass of red wine in her hand as she shoved a finger in Leandra’s face.

Leandra turned her nose up at the finger, daring her mother to strike her. “Oh, was Gamlen going to wear my betrothal ballgown? He’d look so fetching in my jewelry.” She found a wry smile on her face as she imagined him trying to squeeze into her skirt.

Her father scowled, reddening all the way to his balding head. “When did you get such a mouth on you? What in Andraste’s name has gotten into you, young lady? Are you cursed after all?”

“If we’re cursed it’s because you brought on that karma,” Leandra huffed, tearing into her purse and bringing out the letter showing the Council of Five’s ominous inverted triangle stamp. “You’re slavers!? Please tell me I’m wrong!”

Her parents froze, their faces paling. Her mother took a step back. “W-where did you get that?”

Leandra took a deep steadying breath before she said, “I found it in Gamlen’s room. Is he… part of this?” She wondered if even Aunt Revka knew. Was she the only one in the dark about this?

“Useless boy,” her father muttered under his breath.

Her mother looked nervous but defiantly angry. She tucked a bang back into place. “Leandra, it’s not the same thing.”

Leandra scoffed. “Oh, so I suppose I’m misinformed.”

“Yes, you are. It’s all above board. We’re doing nothing illegal,” her father crossed his arms.

Her mother touched her arm, her nails digging in slightly. “The criminals I hand over would not have made any contribution to society and, left to their own devices, would only harm themselves or others. I gave their lives purpose.”

Leandra pulled away, her ears burning with what she just heard. “You…you really believe that?” But she could see her parents looked more upset about being accused of being slavers, than about the lives they had irrevocably ruined. Suddenly everything her parents did made sense. “The charity events, the outreach programs in the alienage, are they all just a smokescreen for your hunting grounds? Have you done nothing out of the goodness of your hearts?”

Her father looked uneasy, but her mother looked outraged. She slapped Leandra, marking her face with her nails. “How dare you! The good we have done for Kirkwall is immeasurable. We cleaned up the streets of the filth that would sully it. You dare judge us for doing the Maker’s work!”

Leandra held her burning cheek, tears stinging her eyes. “That’s what you call it? Is this what my legacy is built on?”

Her mother had never looked so furious. She threw her wine glass to the ground and it shattered, wine oozing on the carpet like blood. “You should be grateful for what your father and I have done for you. What we have given you, most others would kill for. I’ve never thought you would be so ungrateful! Leandra, why are you doing this?”

And suddenly Leandra couldn’t hold in the truth any longer. “Because I fell in love with a man you would have sold off!” She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, uncertain about what she had really said aloud, but she could see her parents freeze in shock as they shared a panicked look.

“Leandra?” her father furrowed his thick eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She said too much, but she couldn’t find herself regretting it. It felt freeing to say. Love. She held her head high. “You heard right. My heart belongs to someone other than Guillaume.” And then she squared her shoulders and glared defiantly. “You can find another heir. I won’t marry to secure your future anymore.”

“Leandra,” her mother’s voice was quiet with fury. “Don’t think you can go through with this lightly. Go to bed, and we’ll discuss this when you’re more clear-headed.”

Leandra laughed. That would have worked on her a few weeks ago but she felt like a new woman. “I’ve never been more clear-headed. And since you’re both so proud of yourselves, I’m telling everyone the truth about our family.” Her parents widened their eyes and started to argue over each other but Leandra straightened her shoulders, tucking her hands together as she stood her ground. Her voice was not a shout, but unwaveringly carried over her parents. “You should inform the De Lancets the wedding is off. And, if you want a relationship with me, you’ll stop immediately and help me make amends if that’s even possible.”

Her parents stopped shouting and their mouths went gape as they looked at each other so confused. “Leandra,” her mother’s voice was shrill and panicked. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do,” Leandra snapped. “Because right now I’m too ashamed to be your daughter.”

That made both of her parents flinch. Her father looked down at his feet and her mother’s eyes glistened with the threat of tears. “Leandra,” her mother said thinly. “You cannot tell people about our connection to the Counsel of Five. You do not understand. It will be dangerous.”

“I thought everything was above board.” Leandra narrowed her eyes, watching her mother’s lips thin and quiver.

Her father stepped forward, wide-eyed and frazzled. “Forget about that, Bethann. Leandra, you’re in love. Since when? Who is this man?”

Leandra crossed her arms, looking away as her cheeks heated. “You already know he’s a good man, Daddy. You just can’t see it yet.”

“I’ve met him?” His brow furrowed as he searched for the connection. He shoved his glasses back up the long bridge of his nose and snarled, “how good of a man can he be if he doesn’t even consult me first? What kind of standing does he have?”

Leandra gritted her teeth. She was not having this conversation right now. “You can meet him if you try to make amends. Otherwise, you can forget it. I won’t let you hurt him.”

“Leandra, you’re obviously not thinking straight.” Her mother was clenching her hands so tightly Leandra thought they would crack. “Go to your room!”

Leandra picked up her suitcases and started marching up the stairs. “Oh, I’ll go to my room, alright, but I’m packing. I’m moving out. Tonight.”

“And going where?” Her father chased after her, his blue eyes wild with panic.

Leandra stomped to her bedroom door, yanking it open. “To Mara’s.” Then she slammed the door shut and locked it. She threw the suitcases on her bed and started haphazardly folding clothes into her bags.

Her parents pounded on the door, screaming her name repeatedly, but she ignored that, angry tears in her eyes. She knew tonight could only be a disaster, and yet it felt necessary. She was scared. She didn’t expect to cut her parents off, but she couldn’t be a part of what they were doing. She wondered if this could even be resolved, if it was hopeless to keep faith for a better future.

As she tucked her lute into her suitcase, she saw a strip of red cloth with the Amell insignia, that she often wore as a hair ribbon. It had also been passed down through the family, although its only real value was sentimental. It had been expected after her betrothal ball that she give this ribbon to Guillaume to wear, so everyone would know he belonged to her, but she'd never gotten around to it. As she tucked it into her bag, she smiled, knowing who the rightful owner should be.

“Leandra Gloriana Amell, if you think you’re leaving through this door then you have another thing coming!” her mother was screeching, her fist shaking the door vigorously.

Leandra had to hurry. She knew it was only a matter of time before her father left to grab the key.

So she couldn’t go out through the front door. If Malcolm could come in through the window, she could leave through it. She threw the suitcases down below where they fell with a thud. When she peeked out the window her heart lifted to see that Mara had not left the driveway yet. She turned on the engine of her car, waving with the same mischievous grin.

Leandra peeked over the ledge. It was a long way down, and if she wasn’t careful she could easily break her neck. She took off her heels and threw them onto the grass. She was halfway out the window before she realized she forgot something. She rushed back to her closet and pulled out the skimpy pink dress that Malcolm had begged her to wear.

Leandra threw the dress out the window, and it fluttered down like a hot pink butterfly. Then with a deep breath, she shimmied out the window, barefoot, her skirt rising up to flash everyone.

Thankfully only Mara was present for that.

She slowly stepped her way down, her arms shaking and burning with unused strength, her toes slipping in the wood graft of the rose terrace. The wood bit into her skin and she could feel splinters threaten to pierce her. About two-thirds of the way down, she misjudged a step and slipped, yelping as she fell onto her suitcase with a crack. Leandra groaned, stars in her eyes. Thankfully the suitcase was padded and soft, but when she pried open the suitcase, the stem of her lute had been snapped.

She found herself crying, the dam breaking at last. She was terrified about what she had just done. She couldn’t take this back, and while she couldn’t regret it, she knew home would never be the same. She hugged herself as she held the broken pieces of her lute. She had no idea what to do.

Mara touched Leandra’s hand, bringing her out of her trance. Her dark eyes were misty with sympathy. “Let’s get you home, babe.”

With shining eyes, she smiled at Mara, grateful for the reminder, and intertwined her fingers into her friend’s hand. She still had a home. She had people who wouldn’t abandon her.

All was not lost.

Leandra smiled through her tears, inexplicably excited at the thought of the freedom that tomorrow would suddenly bring. She was no longer an Amell. She was just Leandra.

She didn’t know who that was, yet.

————————————

By the time Leandra’s parents unlocked the door, Leandra and Mara were already speeding out of the driveway. Bethann was fuming, making loud angry phone calls to the Guard, demanding that they bring Leandra back immediately. Aristride was busy calling up an inspector to figure out who had managed to seduce his daughter. Leandra’s determination to reveal the family’s ties to the Council of Five had worried them both, and they knew they would have to move quickly to get ahead of this.

Gamlen came home late around 3am and, as he dragged himself into the foyer, the Amell parents waited in ambush.

Gamlen looked surprised to see them at all. “Mom… Dad… What are you doing up so late?” he adjusted his collar, loosening his tie as his back straightened into a better posture.

Bethann folded her hands in her lap. “I could ask you the same.”

“Was just out with some friends,” he muttered looking down, his cheeks flushing. His hair was a mess and his suit had food stains on it.

“Well, thanks to you, Leandra found out about how the family’s been paying off our debts and now she wants to go public with the knowledge,” Aristride’s voice was sharp. “How could you let this happen!?”

Gamlen tightened his shoulders. “Leandra knows better than that.”

“Does she?” Bethann cocked her head, some greying black hair falling out of her loose bun. “No matter, she’s determined to destroy herself and we can’t let her take us down with her, and so I must ask you, what do you know of the man Leandra’s seeing?

Gamlen shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip. “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone.” He dropped his gaze, unable to look at his parent’s eyes.

His parents shared a look that remained unconvinced. His mother sniffed sharply. “In light of recent events, we think Leandra might be too unstable to be considered an heir, so you’re going to have to step up.”

Gamlen blinked. “Me?” he pointed to himself.

“Do we have another child we can depend on?” His mother squinted her dark eyes harshly.

Gamlen puffed up his chest. “No, no you can depend on me.”

His mother smiled sharply. “Good, because I believe I can convince the Baudelaires to renew the betrothal.”

Gamlen’s mouth gaped, as he shifted from one foot to another. “But Mara…”

His mother glared harshly. “You can keep the slut as sidepiece for all I care, but hear me boy if you want to be heir, you’re going to have to show some commitment. Do you understand?”

Gamlen was silent, gritting his teeth as the decision wrestled inside him.

His mother fumed, her slipper tapping impatiently. “Is there something unclear about what I’m asking?”

“No, ma’am,” Gamlen nodded automatically at the sharp tone.

Aristride drank deeply from his glass. His glasses were balanced on top of his head, and his eyes rimmed red. He seemed uneasy about the whole situation but, as usual, he displayed a united front with his wife in front of Gamlen.

“Good,” Bethann smoothed a wrinkle in her eyebrow. “Now find me some dirt I can use on your sister.”

————————————-

“I don’t understand. I’ve fed countless memories to the Kindness spirit. Why is this not working?” Malcolm knew frustration would not help, but he couldn’t keep the irritation from biting him. Every night was spent rebuilding the flower forest, every day spent feeding false compliments to people and biting down his more snarky remarks. He couldn’t help but feel resentful that his actions were tied to the Fade and to Kindness’ health. He missed the times when he could act in ignorance.

“Do you think Kindness can be brought back by pretty words? Kindness is an action! Why is this so hard to understand?” Scholar waggled his piece of lumpia angrily before crunching the rest of it down.

The nebulous blue form hovered around Malcolm curiously, playing with the roses, whispering melodies to their petals. Clicky, which Shiny was now called, was harmonizing with Kindness in a foreign song that Malcolm could almost understand. The forest was looking much brighter and healthier, but it needed constant maintenance, and Malcolm was running out of motivation to keep going when his efforts seemed to make little difference.

Malcolm leaned on some large stalks of grass, so thick they could have been used as a hammock. There were more wisps than ever gathering in the forest, all adding to the music. The clouds in the Fade green sky floated on a gentle breeze, forming indistinct shapes that almost looked like a dance in time to the beat the wisps were drumming.

“I don’t get it. The forest looks at peace. What could I possibly do to make this better?”

Scholar chomped loudly, shoving three sticks of lumpia in his mouth at once and swallowing. “Perhaps you are finally ready to begin shaping the Fade.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “I can do that?” It still sounded unbelievable.

Scholar plopped down in front of him. “Quite easily. Now that you aren’t corrupting the Fade with your touch, I’m sure that it would be open to suggestions.”

Malcolm looked at his hands with uncertainty, unsure of the power he held. “How do I do that?”

“Well, first, why don’t we re-energize you? Why don’t you try giving yourself something to eat for once?”

Malcolm touched his chin, thinking about what he’d like. He wasn’t really hungry but he would kill for something to soothe his nerves, like a beer. He concentrated, seeing the Fade strings like normal. The Fade was peering into his memory bringing up the burn of alcohol at the back of his throat. The strings looked so easy to maneuver and reshape that he reached out and tore a chunk of the Veil off and started molding it in his hands.

Immediately the Fade lashed back screaming, the flowers whispering shrilly, the memory souring to bitter acid on his tongue.

Scholar smacked at his hand, the Fade substance dissipating. “Why would you do that?”

Malcolm rubbed his hand with confusion. “I thought you told me to shape the Fade!”

“The Fade has feelings like you do Somniari. How would you like it if someone ripped off a piece of you!?” Scholar then yanked one of his pointy ears in emphasis. “Now apologize!”

Malcolm rubbed his ear, scowling, but found the flowers were starting to quiver at his anger and he quickly tamped down his fury. He held up his hands, trying to open his heart out in apology as Scholar had taught him. “I meant no harm. Didn’t realize that hurt you.”

The Fade quieted to a whisper, a nervous bristling energy rustling through the leaves.

“Now ask this time.” Scholar took Malcolm’s hands and brought them together.

Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows, seeing the strings at the tips of his fingers. He held his breath, the Fade all of sudden looked so delicate. This time he reached out with a brush of his mind, the memory of soothing alcohol melting his tongue.

The Fade responded eagerly to Malcolm, its energy moving through him, and soon in his hand materialized an ice cool can of beer.

He tipped the can up to the sky nodding his head. “Thanks,” and began to drink. Immediately his nerves felt less frazzled and on edge, and he felt re-energized. He looked around and found even more flowers were budding from the ground, their petals opening up to the sky in greeting.

Suddenly Clicky started popping in Malcolm’s ears excitedly, pulling at his hair with an urgency.

Scholar cocked their head. “Are you sure? You’re ready?”

Clicky was blinking with red energy, bouncing up and down as it rapped out rapid drum-like beats.

“What?” Malcolm turned to Scholar. He knew that the wisp wanted something from him, but he still could not understand it.

“They want your help to find their true name.”

The wisp tugged at Malcolm’s shirt. “Huh? How do I do that?”

Scholar picked up a piece of lumpia that had dropped on the ground and ate it without thought. “How have you been shaping the forest? How did you ask for your nourishment? When the path is open, you only have to walk through.”

Malcolm set the beer aside and cupped his hands. The wisp settled eagerly within his fingers, feeling like a warm ball of light, not quite physical but it definitely had a sense of weight. The wisp tingled his fingers, clicking rapidly. Suddenly he could see the strings that made up the wisp’s shape, the energy feeling very much like clay that would mold at the slightest touch. But he remembered how the Fade screamed when he forced it. Just a brush of fingers, and it was like something in his mind unlocked. The wisp and he were connected, the creature searching his knowledge for its truth.

Malcolm could feel the wisp start to mold on its own, needing only the gentlest of nudges to coax it along. It grew like a heartbeat shaping his memories. Malcolm let the wisp explore every sensation he had ever felt, feeling its child-like joy as it tasted each experience. It seemed to attach to the happier memories, love, hope, comfort, pleasure, and joy, but it still had a sense of incompleteness. Words in Malcolm’s head echoed and were rejected. The wisp buzzed in dissatisfaction at each name and began digging deeper.

Then the wisp found the memories of Malcolm’s mother cooking for him, and Malcolm could see something changed in its energy. Malcolm found his tongue reliving his childhood palate, chicken adobo, pancet, lechon, bulalo and so much that he had forgotten about. Soon he could hear the wisp chant, “tasty, tasty, tasty,” over and over again as they ran through a menu of memories.

The wisp was borrowing his energy, Malcolm feeling like a battery. It was starting to feel more solid as it chose its shape. The wisp guided Malcolm’s hands, molding it into a tiny flopping tongue the size of a small bat. It flapped in the air, blowing triumphant raspberries for everyone that would hear, “Tasty, Tasty, Tasty.”

Malcolm pulled his hands away, the strings fading. “So that’s your name. Tasty.”

“Tasty!” The tongue waggled excitedly and then licked Malcolm on the cheek. “Salty. Sad. Bitter.” The tongue shivered and then licked the lumpia in Scholar’s hand. “Salty. Meaty. Tasty!”

Scholar handed the piece of lumpia over to Tasty. “A scholar after my own heart I see.”

Malcolm rubbed his slimy cheek. “Well, I’ve never seen a spirit like that before.”

Scholar petted Tasty affectionately as it somehow licked away at its piece of lumpia. “They’re probably the only one of their kind. You did well, Somniari. Even Kindness thinks so.”

The Kindness spirit floated down from their altar, looking more solid and humanoid rather than a nebulous blob, though there were still no defining features on their face. They giggled melodically, covering their hand where their mouth should have been.

Suddenly the sun darkened into night and a chill ran through the forest. Malcolm could feel something crack in the Fade, like a lock breaking open and darkness pouring in. The forest began to wither rapidly, aging into decay. Malcolm jumped to his feet, feeling the painful buzzing of demons drawing near all around him. In the shadows, shades began to form, choking out the forest flowers.

“Zelophehad!” Scholar shirked into Malcolm’s shadow. “He wants to destroy everything you’ve done. Do not let him!”

Malcolm jumped to his feet, readying spells at his fingertips, but Kindness and Tasty blocked him from slinging them. The wisps all gathered around Malcolm buzzing at him, forming a wall of energy. Tasty spat at him darting up and down.

“If you get dragged into battle, Zelophehad wins!” Scholar cried.

“But isn’t that what you want?” Zelophehad’s warped voice echoed through the forest as the demons chittered excitedly, clawing at the flower stalks and ripping them into pieces. The shadows elongated over Malcolm, blocking him in. “Enact your revenge. Strike at me. Tear out my heart before I eat yours.”

Malcolm’s nerves were screaming at him to defend himself, but the last time he tried to fling himself at this demon, he barely made it out alive. But he couldn’t abandon the forest and leave the Kindness spirit in Zelophehad’s clutches.

A spell flung out. Malcolm blocked it with a barrier, and found the wisps reinforcing its wall with a hum of their magic.

Kindness floated to the center of the wisps, harmonizing brightly. The wisps weaved in dance, taking the energy of Malcolm’s barrier and dispersing it around the heart of the forest. Tasty danced in the middle with Kindness, circling them like a planet in orbit.

Projectiles and tentacles and claws tore at the barrier, leaving scratches like nails in a glass.

“At last, I will devour each and every last one of you,” Zelophehad screeched.

Outside of the barrier, flowers began to drop dead as the demon’s presence poisoned them. The corruption felt so virulent Malcolm thought he would be swallowed by it. He lost count of all the demons clawing at the barriers, pride and rage, despair and desire all systematically rooting out every seed he had planted, every flower that bloomed. Soon every stalk was torn down, every mushroom smashed and the forest was flattened into a desolate desert. The only patch of green left was safely locked within the barrier.

A few of the wisps began to whimper as the barrier began to crack, dark mist seeping in. With it came a creeping chill that made Malcolm shiver. He braced himself. “I will not let you destroy this.” His hands sparked as he readied for the first attack. Scholar zipped in front of Malcolm, waving his lumpia for attention.

“Zelophehad breathes war. But all war must end. Someone must make the first step towards peace.”

“He’s killing everything!” Malcolm’s voice was strangled, unsure that what Scholar preached was realistic with a creature so intent on violence.

“And I will leave nothing left,” the demon laughed.

“It is his nature,” Scholar shook his head, his skeletal teeth elongating as the Fade around him began to warp, the green hue of the Fade fading to grey. “Somniari you shape the Fade as much as he does. If you look for the path of peace you will find it!”

Malcolm clenched his fists, which smoked with the unspent energy. He looked out towards the dead stalks on the ground, the torn petals, feeling the ache of its loss.

More demons joined the ranks, the warped fallen spirits of the forest unlucky to have been caught on the wrong side of the barrier. Dead skeletal animals wrapped in thorny vines rammed the barrier, their bones crunching sickeningly.

Tasty and the wisps kept dancing around Kindness, and their harmony kept the barrier up, but more and more cracks were forming. It was just a matter of time before the demons swarmed.

Malcolm looked at his hands. “I shape the Fade?” he asked in disbelief. How could he change that?

Scholar took his hands and folded them together. “And the Fade will help. Let it.”

Malcolm took one last look at the dead forest. That was a mistake. Only a few feet away, waiting outside of the barrier was the warped twisted image of his father. He looked more monstrous, with long nails and sharp teeth, golden eyes too bright and hungry. Malcolm froze at the sight of him, and his father smiled.

“Malcolm, you’ve been a naughty boy.” He cracked his knuckles into a fist.

Scholar turned his head. “Remember you’re in control!”

But it was too late.

Malcolm staggered backward, still remembering the last beating he took. His whole body was trembling. He closed his eyes and suddenly he was back in the closet, listening to his mother scream in agony.

He opened his eyes again and everything was different. He was a child, in the house he grew up in. He could see his old legos stacked in the corner, his action figures scattered on the floor, his drawings tacked to the wall.

His father loomed over him, picking up a stuffed dog in disgust. It turned moldy and ragged in his hands, the buttons shriveling out of its socket as the toy disintegrated to dust. “Such a stubborn child only knows how to learn one way.” He turned to Malcolm, smiling malevolently.

All of a sudden all of Scholar’s teachings were gone. Malcolm’s panic overtook him and he tried to dash out the nearest exit, which happened to be the kitchen. Malcolm ducked behind the counter, his heart galloping frantically in his chest. “You’re in control,” he reminded himself but he didn’t feel in control. Not when he was too panicked to even think. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself but all he could hear was his father’s cruel laughter as his heavy steps came closer.

Malcolm bit his tongue, tasting blood. His breath stuttered in his chest. He tried to think of something, anything that would anchor him back to himself. He reached out into the Fade as Scholar told him, his heart screaming for help.

At first, nothing happened. He could only hear the sound of his own whimpering as the footsteps inched closer. Then a hand brushed his curls.

He looked up to see Compassion wiping his tears, and he couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like his mother.

She cupped Malcolm’s cheeks and touched her forehead to his and suddenly he felt more like himself. He looked down at his hands noticing they were his normal adult size again. He gazed out and the barrier was almost completely broken and claws were poking through reaching for them.

Compassion held onto Malcolm’s hand as she brought him to his feet. She stared defiantly at Zelophehad still borrowing Malcolm’s father's face. “You have been left unbalanced too long.”

A sharp sneer curled the demon’s lip. “Aw, Compassion the spoilsport. Come to ruin my playtime?”

“No, I’ve come to join the playtime.” Compassion actually looked excited, her face radiating a bright enthusiastic smile. She still did not let go of Malcolm’s hand and he felt very much like a child holding onto her and almost let go, but she squeezed on tight. She looked at him, her own blue ember eyes burrowing into him. “I will show you how to fight as I do.”

Kindness floated down, their voice shrill and fading. Kindness took Compassion's hand, cupping her cheek with the other. The wisps followed, their tired voices harmonizing, as they sluggishly danced in rhythmic circles, flashing in unison like the beat of a heart.

Then the barrier cracked and the demons swarmed. The sound was like a cacophony of nails on a chalkboard. Compassion let go of both Malcolm and Kindness’ hands and stepped forward. A terror demon launched its spindly arm at Compassion grasping her by the arm. Compassion grabbed it back, spinning it on its back like a tango. And then she began to sing.

“Hush now, Terror. Let go of your fear.” She was speaking elvhen but Malcolm could somehow understand it. She pulled it in close for a hug, its gangly limbs flailing in confusion. “All your doubts will become clear.”

The demons stopped their attack as if entranced by the song. The wisps dispersed to all the demons carrying the tune with a hum. The Fade clouds parted and the sun peeked out shining brightly on Compassion, her voice weaving into the Fade. From the dead barren dirt, sprouts started to bloom and entwined the demons, trapping most of them.

Zelophehad scowled and stomped on a growing flower, but it stubbornly wrapped around his foot and tripped him. He ripped the rose vine out by its root and snarled at his demons. “Attack the Somniari! Bring me his heart!”

The demons seemed to shake awake from the song spell. Several shades sharpened their claws and darted in on Malcolm.

Scholar was now joining the song, but his contribution was a more spoken word beat that the wisps started whispering back. “Weave the Fade. Feel the beat. Stay your blade. Move your feet.”

Malcolm felt ridiculous. Would he need to start blowing bubbles again too? The demons swiped at him and Malcolm found himself ducking ice and fire spells and weaving through limbs in time to music somehow. Malcolm gritted his teeth. His life depended on it, but he didn’t want to sing. This was ludicrous. Was it really necessary for life to become a musical to defeat his greatest nightmare?

Still, as he dodged and sidestepped each swipe, he found the ridiculous feelings overriding his fear, and he could start to think clearly again.

The terror demon trapped in Compassion's arms tried to jerk out of reach but Compassion spun it around, warding off more attacks with its body. All the while her elvish words seemed to unravel the demon, changing it into something else. “You can find yourself again. Be brave enough to break the chain.”

The terror demon’s limbs started to enlarge, growing brown fur and a very piggy snout. Suddenly Compassion was twirling the spirit of a bear, its side torn into with a jagged battle scar, but otherwise a very normal-looking spirit.

Zelophehad scowled, zeroing in on Malcolm who was busy trying not to be mauled by three shades. He moved like a blur, grabbing Malcolm by the collar, ready to rip his throat out. But instead of making the killing blow, he held Malcolm there as if waiting for something.

Compassion’s voice fell to a hum. Kindness flanked her, grabbing her hand, and Scholar linked his hand too. Their voices carried through the Fade, weaving an aching harmony as they started to glow.

Malcolm could feel the terror wanting to eat him alive, but as he listened to the strange choir he couldn’t help but break down in manic laughter.

Zelophehad narrowed his eyes, sneering. “What is so funny?”

Malcolm let the laugh go all the way to his belly as it shook away the nerves. This was so absurd. “I get it now,” he chuckled. “You’re like a mirror. You reflect whatever energy is flung at you, but you can’t make a killing blow unless I do. That’s why I can’t kill you.”

The demon’s lip curled up revealing sharp teeth. “But I can kill you. I might be bound by certain laws, but I have reached beyond the Fade.”

The demon tightened his grasp around his neck but Malcolm found that, though the grip was vice tight, he didn’t need to breathe. For a moment he could see the strings that wove Zelophehad together and how easy it would be to reach out and unravel his malice like a loose thread.

Zelophehad seemed to sense this too and he threw Malcolm into the altar, his back slamming against the statue knocking the wind out of him. He then tackled Malcolm, his fist slamming in for a punch, but it stopped when Malcolm did not even flinch. He threw Malcolm to the ground, a roar bellowing in the back of his throat. “Fight me, damn it!”

Malcolm grinned, feeling triumphant at last. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, but I finally caught on.”

“Finally,” a chorus sang back before it faded to humming.

The spirit’s song was growing more complex, each of the wisps taking their own melody, but they somehow weaved back together into one refrain.

Zelophehad seemed to shirk at the music. The dirt under their feet grew green again and the flower stalks and mushroom blooms were steadily overtaking the land, growing to the beat.

Compassion, Kindness, and Scholar still holding hands floated over to Zelophehad, their voices harmonizing in unison. “Is your hunger not endless? Are you not weary of pain? Are you not tired of waking? Let us heal you again.”

Zelophehad swiped at the spirits in frustration but they just floated out of reach. “You will pay for your meddling. I will feast on your souls!”

Then Zelophehad morphed into a mass of tentacles with goat eyes warping out of sight and taking the ominous dark feeling with it.

The forest was definitely shorter now, more of grassland than a proper forest, but Malcolm figured that feeding more Kindness to it would fix that in time. The rest of the demons had fled and what spirits were left had been changed back by the song and were now acclimating to their new home.

The bear spirit nodded its head at Compassion and then slowly lumbered away, dragging a bad foot that looked like it had been mauled in a trap. It parted the growing flowers with its mass, only the top of its head visibly bobbing as it wandered away.

Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief, his head falling against the stone of the altar of Kindness. The dog statue’s sapphire eyes shone brilliantly. The heart of the forest was still tall and strong, the flowers drinking up the sunshine with bright open petals.

Then a giant white jasmine flower spat out a golden owl that floated down to Malcolm’s chest and bore at him with big inquisitive eyes.

The other spirits stopped their song and crowded around Malcolm, cooing in delight. Tasty sputtered flapping as it spurted raspberries. It licked the owl. “Soothing. Refreshing. Tasty!”

Compassion scooped up the little owl and held it to her chest. “Oh, Honesty you came back!”

Malcolm cocked his head feeling like the day couldn’t get weirder but he could feel something was different about that spirit. Like he had met it before. “Another guardian spirit? How did it get here?”

“By a great act of honesty, of course.” Scholar ruffled the top of the owl’s ears fondly. “Just in time, too.”

“Huh? When did I do that?”

“It was not you,” Compassion’s voice was sharp. “In fact, you’ve made it very hard for Honesty to come back.” She placed the spirit on top of her head and it nestled in her curls like an ornament. She crossed her arms. “It’s going to take some work before we restore Honesty and Kindness, so heed your actions in the waking world. They have taken shapes from you; they will be intrinsically affected by your actions.”

Malcolm could feel his insides shrinking. He was already having the damnedest time restoring the Kindness spirit. Adding another spirit to juggle into that mess seemed like too much.

“So I’m supposed to kiss people’s asses and now I can’t lie? What’s next? If there’s a celibacy spirit, I quit!”

Compassion buckled over looking queasy.

Malcolm sat up alarmed, only now just remembering to check his emotions.

Compassion winced in pain. “Be more careful with your rage. Zelophehad might not kill me but you might.”

Malcolm winced, feeling guilty and the spirit turned a shade of green and gagged.

“Not that emotion either,” she held her mouth as if she might vomit. “You’re too volatile, I can’t stay around you.” With shaky hands, she plucked the owl spirit off her head and deposited it on Malcolm’s lap. “Just try not to kill this spirit- again.” She turned to Scholar, scowling. "Teach him better."

Then Compassion blinked away leaving Malcolm with Scholar, Kindness, and Tasty who seemed to be much more used to Malcolm’s mood swings.

Kindness hummed happily turning a shade of pink. They were still buzzing from the sing-along and they even looked healthier. More corporeal in every sense.

Scholar cocked their head, summoning some balut eggs which he started eating whole. “Well, that’s a pretty color? Are you trying it out?”

Kindness hummed and floated to the dog statue touching the sapphire eyes and turning them into pink diamonds.

Scholar nodded resolutely. “Ah, I see. That’s who you are now. Well, that’s one step closer to finding the rest of you.”

Malcolm cocked his head. Spirit conversations sure were confusing.

The Kindness spirit floated up towards Malcolm like a puppy showing off its sheen in a glittery glow. “Yes, you're very sparkly,” Malcolm reassured Kindness, though he wasn’t sure if that was what Kindness wanted.

Kindness hummed in delight, their speech almost recognizable, and then giggled. The owl in Malcolm’s lap reached up their stubby wings at Kindness’ glittery sheen and Kindness picked them up and whirled them around in excitement. They looked like two friends greeting after a long absence.

Malcolm sighed deeply as he laid back on the grass and looked up at the Black City looming eerily in the sky. He had survived another attack by Zelophehad and knew well enough how to stop the next encounter from being deadly. But as he stared up at the City defying gravity, he wondered how long he could balance on this knife edge before he fell off.

At least he got through it without singing.

#malcolm x leandra #malcolm hawke #leandra amell #leandra hawke #dragon age #da2 #my writing

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possessyou · 2 years

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TAG DROP!

V / ??? ┊ &. UNDECIDED V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( in the car with a beautiful boy ) ⇀ pre. V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( he wont tell you he loves you / but he loves you ) ⇀ s2. V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( youre trying not to tell him you love him ) ⇀ s3. V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( something you didnt have a name for ) ⇀ s4. ✵ ┊ &. LETTERS ✵ ┊ &. ANONS ✵ ┊ &. Q ✵ ┊ &. PROMPTS ✵ ┊ &. DASH COMM ✵ ┊ &. CRACK ✵ ┊ &. PROMO ✵ ┊ &. PSA ✵ ┊ &. WISHLIST ✵ ┊ &. REF ✵ ┊ &. OOC ⇀ ( mochi says ! ) ✵ ┊ &. HC ⇀ ( your shoes are filling with your own damn blood ) ✵ ┊ &. DESIRES ⇀ ( i will see your body bare / and still i will live here ) ✵ ┊ &. THOUGHTS ⇀ ( a boy who likes boys is a dead boy ) ✵ ┊ &. STUDY ⇀ ( weak and hollow and it doesnt matter anymore ) ✵ ┊ &. TRINKETS ⇀ ( remember tonight for it is the beginning of always ) ✵ ┊ &. EDDIE ⇀ ( sorry about the blood in your mouth / i wish it was mine )

#V / ??? ┊ &. UNDECIDED #V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( in the car with a beautiful boy ) ⇀ pre.#V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( he wont tell you he loves you / but he loves you ) ⇀ s2.#V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( youre trying not to tell him you love him ) ⇀ s3.#V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( something you didnt have a name for ) ⇀ s4.#✵ ┊ &. LETTERS #✵ ┊ &. ANONS #✵ ┊ &. Q #✵ ┊ &. PROMPTS #✵ ┊ &. DASH COMM #✵ ┊ &. CRACK #✵ ┊ &. PROMO #✵ ┊ &. PSA #✵ ┊ &. WISHLIST #✵ ┊ &. REF #✵ ┊ &. OOC ⇀ ( mochi says ! )#✵ ┊ &. HC ⇀ ( your shoes are filling with your own damn blood )#✵ ┊ &. DESIRES ⇀ ( i will see your body bare / and still i will live here )#✵ ┊ &. THOUGHTS ⇀ ( a boy who likes boys is a dead boy )#✵ ┊ &. STUDY ⇀ ( weak and hollow and it doesnt matter anymore )#✵ ┊ &. TRINKETS ⇀ ( remember tonight for it is the beginning of always )#✵ ┊ &. EDDIE ⇀ ( sorry about the blood in your mouth / i wish it was mine )

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citysinks · 4 years

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TAG DROP

V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( dream of goodbye / sinking sea / falling sky ) V / ONE ┊ &. TWO ⇀ ( beyond the ocean / a lighthouse is waiting for me )

☫ ┊ &. LETTERS ☫ ┊ &. ANONS ☫ ┊ &. Q ☫ ┊ &. PROMPTS ☫ ┊ &. OOC ☫ ┊ &. DASH COMM ☫ ┊ &. CRACK ☫ ┊ &. PROMO ☫ ┊ &. PSA ☫ ┊ &. WISHLIST ☫ ┊ &. REF ☫ ┊ &. HC ⇀ ( that is not dead which can eternal lie ) ☫ ┊ &. DESIRES ⇀ ( with strange eons even death may die ) ☫ ┊ &. THOUGHTS ⇀ ( from salt & from sand / no gods or kings / only man ) ☫ ┊ &. AES ⇀ ( forlorn faces running from the cold regret ) ☫ ┊ &. STUDY ⇀ ( when youre sleeping you can keep no secret from me ) ☫ ┊ &. TRINKETS ⇀ ( remember tonight for it is the beginning of always ) ☫ ┊ &. SELF ⇀ ( somewhere beyond the sea / something slumbers underneath )

#V / ONE ┊ &. MAIN ⇀ ( dream of goodbye / sinking sea / falling sky )#V / ONE ┊ &. TWO ⇀ ( beyond the ocean / a lighthouse is waiting for me )#☫ ┊ &. LETTERS #☫ ┊ &. ANONS #☫ ┊ &. Q #☫ ┊ &. PROMPTS #☫ ┊ &. OOC #☫ ┊ &. DASH COMM #☫ ┊ &. CRACK #☫ ┊ &. PROMO #☫ ┊ &. PSA #☫ ┊ &. WISHLIST #☫ ┊ &. REF #☫ ┊ &. HC ⇀ ( that is not dead which can eternal lie )#☫ ┊ &. DESIRES ⇀ ( with strange eons even death may die )#☫ ┊ &. THOUGHTS ⇀ ( from salt & from sand / no gods or kings / only man )#☫ ┊ &. AES ⇀ ( forlorn faces running from the cold regret )#☫ ┊ &. STUDY ⇀ ( when youre sleeping you can keep no secret from me )#☫ ┊ &. TRINKETS ⇀ ( remember tonight for it is the beginning of always )#☫ ┊ &. SELF ⇀ ( somewhere beyond the sea / something slumbers underneath )

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bridefind · 4 years

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TAG DROP pt 2 !

♡ 〉HC ⇀ take his sadness / throw it away / he is still left with his hands ♡ 〉DESIRES ⇀ sorry about the blood in your mouth / wish it was mine ♡ 〉THOUGHTS ⇀ because you want to die for love / you always have ♡ 〉AES ⇀ tell me how all this / and love too / will ruin us ♡ 〉STUDY ⇀ you always fall in love / like having your throat cut ♡ 〉TRINKETS ⇀ remember tonight for it is the beginning of always ♡ 〉SELF ⇀ love for you is larger than romantic love / it is like religion ♡〉SH. WAYLON ⇀ if you love me / you dont love me in a way i understand

#♡ 〉HC ⇀ take his sadness / throw it away / he is still left with his hands #♡ 〉DESIRES ⇀ sorry about the blood in your mouth / wish it was mine #♡ 〉THOUGHTS ⇀ because you want to die for love / you always have #♡ 〉AES ⇀ tell me how all this / and love too / will ruin us #♡ 〉STUDY ⇀ you always fall in love / like having your throat cut #♡ 〉TRINKETS ⇀ remember tonight for it is the beginning of always #♡ 〉SELF ⇀ love for you is larger than romantic love / it is like religion #♡〉SH. WAYLON ⇀ if you love me / you dont love me in a way i understand

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almamori · 4 years

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tag drop !

verse. 〉??? ⇀ undecided verse. 〉main ⇀ abandon hope / ye who enter here ✝ 〉LETTERS ✝ 〉ANONS ✝ 〉Q ✝ 〉PROMPTS ✝ 〉OOC ✝ 〉DASH COMM ✝ 〉CRACK ✝ 〉PROMO ✝ 〉PSA ✝ 〉WISHLIST ✝ 〉REF ✝ 〉HC ⇀ into eternal darkness / into fire and into ice ✝ 〉DESIRES ⇀ live with me in this sin forever ✝ 〉THOUGHTS ⇀ less than beautiful is worse than holy ✝ 〉AES ⇀ the devils got his eye on you / dont go out tonight ✝ 〉STUDY ⇀ i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground ✝ 〉TRINKETS ⇀ remember tonight for it is the beginning of always ✝ 〉SELF ⇀ he who holds the devil / hold him well

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hereticfaith · 4 years

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tag drop pt 2 --!

✝ 〉HC ⇀ less than beautiful is worse than holy ✝ 〉DESIRES ⇀ live with me in this sin forever ✝ 〉THOUGHTS ⇀ i have to hunt you / bring you to my hell ✝ 〉AES ⇀ the devils got his eye on you / dont go out tonight ✝ 〉STUDY ⇀ i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground ✝ 〉TRINKETS ⇀ remember tonight for it is the beginning of always ✝ 〉SELF ⇀ dont ever tame your demons / keep them on a leash ✝ 〉VAL ⇀ i have been heading for hell / did i drag you down as well ? ✝ 〉SH. VAL ⇀ In starlit nights I saw you / so cruelly you kissed me

#✝ 〉HC ⇀ less than beautiful is worse than holy #✝ 〉DESIRES ⇀ live with me in this sin forever #✝ 〉THOUGHTS ⇀ i have to hunt you / bring you to my hell #✝ 〉AES ⇀ the devils got his eye on you / dont go out tonight #✝ 〉STUDY ⇀ i hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground #✝ 〉TRINKETS ⇀ remember tonight for it is the beginning of always #✝ 〉SELF ⇀ dont ever tame your demons / keep them on a leash #✝ 〉VAL ⇀ i have been heading for hell / did i drag you down as well ?#✝ 〉SH. VAL ⇀ In starlit nights I saw you / so cruelly you kissed me

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eatrude · 6 years

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I just wanna talk a second about something that’s super relevant to this blog and media in general but also just ! Really incredible is that the field of medicine is ALWAYS updating and changing. Some terms and diagnosis and ESPECIALLY treatments from 40 years ago are OBSOLETE now, have been refined, or have been eradicated completely for the fact that they’re dangerous.

I’m not a medical student, but I understand the importance of keeping media UPDATED to what is as current as possible in the medical world despite that it’s always changing. New journals and studies are undergone and published constantly.

In relevance to this blog specifically: The term and understanding of a ‘psychopath’ has changed and evolved SO MUCH since 1981 ! The term may have been appropriate to tack onto every serial killer 20 or 30 years ago but it’s just NOT anymore.

It is genuinely SO HARD to find what’s real information on the internet because of the hysteria and stigma surrounding the term. it’s almost impossible to google and look around for the answers to my questions because the media at large misrepresents the mentally ill and psychotic people SO BADLY.

I say it a lot on here ! having a mental disorder, even something as severe and commonly misrepresented as APD or ‘Psychopathy’ does NOT inherently make you evil. PSYCHOPATH is NOT a medical term ! It’s not !! And it’s so bad that all shows and media USE it like it is because of the PUBLICS understanding when we should be trying to EDUCATE people instead.

I don’t know for sure that ‘psychopath’ was EVER a medical term, but maybe it was at one point. It isn’t now. It refers to “ a person suffering from chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent social behavior. “ But it’s not an official diagnosis and I don’t even think a lot of people KNOW that. I’m just so tired y’all, so tired.

I do my best to keep up with changing things in the medical field despite not being a student to it or a doctor and I’m always willing to do the research and try to help out if you need to learn! That said, if you come onto this blog and I feel your blog misrepresents mental illnesses or stigmatizes it -- i’m just going to block you. I guess I need to add this to my rules, I don’t remember if it’s there or not ... yikes i’m just tired.

SO, as another post I frequently reblog says: Reminder that Hannibal does NOT have APD and is not a “Psychopath”. He doesn’t suffer from any chronic mental disorder and you don’t HAVE to have a mental illness to be a bad person. Just like having one doesn’t MAKE you a bad person.

Yikes guys, pls do your research.

#♕&. TRINKETS ⇀ ( remember tonight / for it is the beginning of always )#psa ┊ ♕#♕&. ooc #si g h #every time a blog of that nature follows me i instantly lose like 10 years off my life #cw mental illness #uh ??? idk #ask to tag #cw long post

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favonius-captain · 2 years

Text

𖤐 * ∿ SOMEONE TO HOLD

𖥻 SUMMARY

pt 2 of before you go

𖥻 CHARACTERS

diluc, kaeya, albedo & gn! reader

𖥻 GENRE & WARNINGS

hurt/comfort, alcohol

𖥻 LINKS

masterlist

𖥻 NOTES

please like and rb if you enjoyed !

𖥻 ALBEDO

it’s been six months since you left mondstadt, and albedo doesn’t let himself stop and think

he buries himself further in his work, ironically enough. because every time he pauses, every time he lets his mind drift to you, he feels something twist in his chest

and he thinks he’s doing fine. when he’s working, he’s okay

still, he sometimes finds himself looking over his shoulder to find you — expecting you to be sitting next in the stool that he had always reserved for you. only to remember that you’re no longer there

still, he keeps the stool there. a reminder, and a hope

he sometimes finds the small trinkets you’ve left behind for him — the bracelets you’ve made

he finds little sticky notes that you used to stick around his lab with little reminders of make sure to eat :) and love you

and every time, his heart constricts

but the worst is when he stops and rests, and he’s alone in his bed, wondering how he thought this would last forever

when you used to talk about going to liyue, you used to say that you and him would keep in contact through letters. but his mailbox remains empty

and it’s deserved — he knows it’s deserved, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of despair that clutches his chest

and sometimes, after a long day of work, he wants nothing more than to collapse in your arms as you hum and brush his hair out of his face for him. he wants nothing more than to just lean on you as you read, and fall asleep

but the lights to the house are always off. and it’s always empty

emotion is something that albedo doesn’t express often — but sometimes when he’s left alone and he’s too tired to work anymore, he leans his back against the door and puts his head in his hands and cries

he hears of your return from sucrose — its said that you were at the tavern, saying your hellos to everyone again

he abandons his experiment in an instant

(more under cut)

you’re sitting in the tavern, casually talking to diluc who’s manning the bar tonight. your back is turned to him, as you sip your drink.

albedo swears his heart stops as he stares at you.

at that moment, you turn to find him. whatever you were about to say, dies on your lips as you take albedo in.

albedo wonders what you see — if you see him the same as the rest as mondstadt does. the emotionless alchemist, with not a speck of dirt on him.

or maybe you see the way his clothing is wrinkled at the corners from the way he’s tugged at it. maybe you see how his braid is not quite the same, or the way his fingers shake in his gloves. and you must because something in your expression softens.

“y/n.” your name slips from his lips like a plea.

almost in a trance, he walks up next to you. he stands, too scared to sit. there’s a boundary in a breakup, and he doesn’t want to cross it.

even if he wants to. even if he wants to love you again. even if he wants you to know how much he loves you.

“albedo,” you say, with a slight nod. and there’s something fake in your smile, something that makes his heart shatter.

so, slowly, he starts taking off all the jewelry you’ve made him. from the leather bound promise ring, to the beaded necklace he’s worn. the bracelet from your anniversary. the hair ties you’ve left for him. the pendant with your initials on it.

he places them all on the table, swallowing the feeling in his throat.

“i believe these are your’s,” he says, swallowing the emotion that rises in his throat.

you sit there, in shock. and he thinks he sees a tear but you blink it away.

have you hurt like he has?

(have you hurt because of him?)

“albedo,” you whisper. and he can’t help but tense when you say his name.

he swallows. “i’m sorry.” he shakes his head. “sorry can’t even begin to cover it. what i did — it wasn’t right. i don’t know if you knew, and i’m sorry if i never showed it, and you must have wondered if i loved you. i do.”

i do. present. and you notice it too. you’ve always noticed.

and before he can even react, you’re taking him into your arms. and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you pull away only to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“i’m so so sorry,” he whispers. “this isn’t right – you’ve moved on, but i–”

“i love you too,” you blurt out, cutting him off. “i just – i just didn’t know if it was returned. but i love you too.”

and albedo can’t promise all his free time, but he does his best

he always invites you to sit on the stool next to him as he works, sometimes even explaining the experiment to you

he never fails to give you a good morning or good night kiss before either of you part ways for awhile

and he never forgets to lace his fingers through your’s every time he’s been away for awhile – a silent i love you and thank you

𖥻 DILUC

it’s been awhile since diluc has rolled over and held you in his arms

but he’s still used to it – seeing you next to him in the bed

he still would smile as he admired your sleeping face even if he couldn’t stay

he’d always debate if he could press a kiss to your cheek before shaking his head and thinking it’s not what you want

it’s worse now – now the other side of the bed is empty

the feeling of uncontrollable dread rises in his chest – but he pushes it down

he doesn’t have time to worry. there’s only work

and he manages to hold it together – he buries himself so deep into concentration that he manages to keep his mind off of it

you’ll be home when he is

but when he returns home the following night, the lights are off and half of your stuff is gone

and it’s then he feels like his chest is caving in – it’s then that he sits at the edge of the bed his head in his hands, wondering how he could let you go

he sits in silence, breathing getting heavier as he buries his head in his hands

but he pulls it together by the next morning – and he’s fine when he’s working. he can bury your memory under his work

but when it’s four am and he’s alone in bed, he can’t help but curl into a ball and miss the feeling of you

since you left in such a hurry, you left many things behind – and he has a box of your things in the corner, that he can’t bring himself to throw out

he wants to tell you that he has them but he can’t bring himself to face you

he’s known it’s been coming – the breakup. he knows that the relationship you had was unsustainable

but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt – it doesn’t mean that he can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt his heart shatter

he didn’t know you were in that much pain – and it makes him hate everything about himself

he still sees you around – mondstadt isn’t big, and sometimes your eyes meet but he’s always the first to break it apart

he convinces himself that it’s better this way. it has to be.

ironically, he only works more – it’s the same thing that made him lose you, but here he is, working twofold

and he’s exhausted. there’s no one to help him – no one to eat late night dinners with, no one who pulls him into bed when he’s near collapsing

his house is a memory of you – so he never stays there long.

and as fate would have it – that’s why you two meet again

it’s past three in the morning when he’s out on his darknight hero duties – you used to draw a line at two in the morning, one that he often overstepped, but now, there’s no one to stop him.

he doesn’t remember the last time he turned on the lights in the winery. he never stays there long enough.

he’s walking on the tops of the roofs, careful to be light on his feet. the street light flickers.

clang.

diluc jumps at the sound of a clatter – cautiously, he makes his way toward the sound.

fuck.

there’s someone surrounded by two treasure hoarders – they have a dagger out, but it’s nothing that will fend against them.

diluc doesn’t think as he drops down from the roof, making quick work of the treasure hoarders.

after he’s done, he turns to the person, a question of are you okay, on his lips, only to freeze.

you.

you’re standing there, eyes wide, dagger still clutched in your hand. and it’s his dagger – the same one he gave you.

“diluc,” you whisper. “diluc.”

he can hear it – in the slur of your words. you’re drunk – or, at least, you’ve been drinking. because you stumble right after the words, and almost crash to the floor, but he catches you.

his heart rises in his throat. he wants to swallow it down – the feeling that threatens to consume him. the longing that comes from being this close to you.

but he can’t. it’s better for you.

“y/n,” he murmurs. “come on. let’s get you home.”

but you only stumble, leaning closer into him.

fuck.

“diluc,” you murmur, again. like a broken record on repeat. “diluc.”

he tenses, but he slings your arm over his shoulder.

“i missed you.” he freezes at that. “so fucking much. but you look fine. you’re always fine.”

“you’re drunk,” he says, as he continues to walk, half dragging you with him. “don’t say something you’ll regret.”

you don’t listen. “why were you never there?”

he tenses again.

“why did you always leave? why did you never tell me?” you ask. “why did you always have to go?”

“now isn’t the time.”

“if you don’t tell me,” you slur, “i’ll just be left wondering forever. and i’ll hate everything about myself. i thought you loved me. i did.”

his heart constricts in his throat. “i do?”

“then why were you never there?”

silence.

and then–

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow morning.”

he brings you back to what used to be both of your - now just his - house, because he doesn’t know where you stay anymore

and as he tucks you in, he can’t help but feel his throat get tighter

and at that night, he buys two tickets for liyue harbor. the vacation you’ve always wanted

he’s teetering on the edge of nervousness, as he makes breakfast for you. you haven’t woken up yet, and he can’t help but feel anxious.

he jumps when he hears the bedroom door open, nearly flipping his pan. he tries to contain his nerves as you step out, but it evidently isn’t working.

“diluc,” you say. you look just as embarrassed, and just as nervous as him. “uh, sorry for last night. i’ll uh – i’ll go.”

he quickly shakes his head. “no–wait. at least have breakfast. i made waffles for you. your favorite.”

despite it all, the sight of your slight smile still makes his heart skip a beat.

“thanks,” you say, but there’s still the hint of awkwardness that lingers.

you both eat in silence – he wants to ask how you’ve been, what you’re doing now. but there’s a barrier between you that he doesn’t know if he can pass – he doesn’t know what’s considered “okay.” there’s a line that he’s too terrified to treat.

you break the silence.

“so,” you say. “what now?”

there. there it is.

the question he’s been waiting for. the question he still doesn’t know the answer for.

“i’m so sorry,” he blurts out. “for everything. for never telling you when i had to go somewhere – for always canceling. i did–i do care.”

you sit there, blinking. “di–”

he clears his throat. “i, uh– i got you tickets. to liyue. i got two. but you don’t have to go with me. it’s just there if you want to take someone else along. i don’t expect anything.”

silently, you stand from your seat. and in two long steps, you cross the table and embrace him.

he freezes, before hugging you back. it’s only then does his shoulders start shaking and he realizes he’s crying.

“i want to try again,” you whisper. “but only if you want to, too.”

from then on, diluc makes an effort to make time for you – he hires another helper so he won’t be doing paperwork all day.

he’s always home for dinner, no matter what. and he makes it habit to book a trip with you ever anniversary

and although he may see like he’s over it, sometimes at night, you can feel him pull you closer saying i love you while also saying thank you and a i’m sorry.

𖥻 KAEYA

he’s handling it fine.

that’s a lie. and he knows it. but he’ll pretend that he believes it

i’m fine, he says to the bartender as he downs another drink, with his signature smirk

you used to sit next to him – you used to pour his drink, and click your glasses, before downing it

and when he was drunk with you, you were drunk together. things didn’t seem so muddled then

kaeya’s a skilled liar, a skilled pretender – and he manages to hold it together until he gets home

and your stuff is gone

and he realizes that was the final straw

the only thing that remains on your side of the room is a picture of you and him together

he scream cries in the shower the same day, his head still muddled, wondering where it went wrong

he wakes up to an empty bedside. he’s always woken up before you, and something in him aches when he can’t brush a stray hair from your forehead

weeks pass. no contact.

it’s said that you left mondstadt completely – not a trace of you left behind

he wants to beg. he wants to beg for you to come back

i’ll apologize this time. i promise. i swear.

he finds the same scarf that he gave you in his closet. you swore you’d always keep it, and it’s still hanging on his rack. taunting him

he wants to explain - he wants to be intimate

he wishes that he were good at being genuine - he wishes that being intimate didn’t immediately make him want to retract, didn’t immediately make him wonder how long it’ll last before it breaks

not long is apparently the answer

months pass, and he pretends that he’s over you. months pass, and he swears that going home to the lights off is fine

when you return to mondstadt, it takes everything in him to not walk up to you and throw his arms around you

it takes all his self restraint to not walk up to you

but you don’t look at him. once.

he gets the message. loud and clear

so he does what he always does – he avoids you

but when your birthday comes around, he can’t pretend he doesn’t remember; so he leaves you a gift on your doorstep that remains unsigned

a year passes until it’s your anniversary again

and he throws himself into more work than he ever has, to avoid any feeling of you

ironically, that is the day you two (really) meet again

“jean told me that you haven’t eaten or slept.”

kaeya jerks up in his sheet.

you.

it’s your voice – and when he looks up it’s you. and he swears it must be a hallucination because there’s no way you’re here – there’s no way you’re standing in front of him again.

“y/n,” he whispers.

you shift uncomfortably on your feet.

“listen, i didn’t want to do this, but jean said she couldn’t convince you to take care of yourself,” you say. but he can tell it’s a lie. he has all this knowledge of you, and only now does he need it. he sees it in the way your eyes dart to the floor.

he stands from his seat, before taking step toward you like a moth drawn to the flame.

he wonders if you see how terrible he looks – he wonders if you can still see through him like he sees through you.

“can i–” he swallows the feeling in his throat. “can i touch you?”

you freeze in shock, before nodding slowly.

he pulls you into an embrace, feeling his eye tear up.

“i’m sorry,” he says. the words come tumbling from his lips before he can stop them. “i’m so so sorry.”

he doesn’t expect much – he knows its been a year, and he doesn’t expect for you to feel the same.

but when you pull him back into the embrace, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat.

“i’m sorry too,” he hears you whisper.

“i’ve missed you so much.” every word in his head, every word he’s never been able to verbalize, comes falling out of his lips.

“i know. i’ve missed you too.” you pull away, only to wipe the tear falling from his one eye. “come on. let’s get you some food, and then you can get some rest. we can talk about it in the morning.”

and when you try again, he makes an effort to give you everything he has

from gift giving, to surprising you at work, to skipping his nightly trip to angel’s share to try wine at home with you

but he never forgets to say i love you, because he knows his genuine words are what you need the most

#kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya alberich #diluc ragnvindr #albedo kreideprinz #kaeya headcanons #diluc headcanons #albedo headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin angst #— writing

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bellesowl · 3 years

Text

tell me you love me

- multiple characters

⤷ sakusa, atsumu, ushijima, kuroo

genre: fluff ; established relationships

synopsis: haikyuu boys and their love languages

word count: 1.5k total <3

warnings: very very small mention of bullies and season 4 spoilers in atsumu’s, i curse a lil

- a/n: one last fluff hc before february ends! i just wanted to do something short & sweet but then it evolved into this as always atsumu’s is too long. oh and ai (@/ luvnami) has a post very similar to tsumu’s so make sure to check it out too! kuroo’s is a sort of prequel to this post too. finally, are we surprised at my choice of characters to write at this point?

- sakusa kiyoomi

his love language is physical touch

PHEWW i know y’all weren’t expecting this

but let me explain myself

i abhor the fact that people think sakusa would detest touching his partner & that he wouldn’t act completely touch starved

so obviously, even getting him to talk to you was a whole quest and a half in and of itself but once he gets comfortable around you?

especially enough that he willingly spends time with you as your boyfriend?

you cannot tell me this man wouldn’t be completely cuddled up to you 24/7

“kiyooo” you sigh, “baby, you have practice right?”

he shakes his head, trying to trick you into spending more time with him, but by now you have his practice schedule memorized.

“c’mon, c’mon, up we go” you gently shove him off you and he pouts, “as much as i would love to stay like this forever, we both know you can’t be late to practice- especially with nationals right around the corner.” you grab his hand and lead him towards the gym.

“well maybe if you became a manager like i suggested, i would be more inclined to go to practice because i wouldn’t have to choose between my favorite things- you and volleyball.” he says with a pointed look in your direction.

you both stop in front of the gym and turn to face each other. “maybe if you do well enough at nationals, you might come back next year with a new manager, huh?” you unhook his mask and give him a slight peck. “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay babe?”

he pulls you in for a slightly longer kiss, “i was thinking more like tonight after practice, okay my love?”

you nod and shove him into the gym, where the smile on his face fades back into his signature scowl. you laugh slightly, he never will change, will he?

- miya atsumu

his love language is words of affirmation

i think this one was pretty obvious, but along with this is definitely physical touch

i mean we all know that tsumu is known for being clingy as hell but it’s cute so it’s fine

but words of affirmation- like we saw in s4, he was constantly left out, tbh borderline bullied by the other kids

sure, he always acted like it didn’t matter but that hurts, especially in middle school.

so having someone tell him they love him, that he’s great & all (at something other than volleyball), and that he’s enough? he’ll follow you to the moon and back.

as karasuno’s cheering section continues to roar with delight and the crows are on the brink of tears on the court, you can’t seem to take your eyes off a certain setter. you watch as he stands there, almost in denial. come on tsumu, you’re fine love, you think, silently cheering him on. you watch as he says something to the karasuno duo, and you smile slightly when he begins to argue with his brother.

as they line up, you stay a moment to make sure the goddamn cheering squad doesn’t say anything rude to the team who just poured their hearts out on that court. satisfied with their applause, you make your way down to the court. you wait for them to finish their team meeting before approaching your boyfriend.

“tsumu!” you yell, hoping to grab his attention. his head whips toward you and his smile widens.

“baby!!! you came!” he runs up to you with a grin but you realize his eyes aren’t lighting up the way they usually do.

“of course i did,” you scoff, “you think i’d miss this?” you grab his arm and drag him over to kita. “kita-san, i hope you don’t mind me stealing atsumu for the rest of the day?” he shakes his head and waves you off. your eyes lock for a single moment, but you receive the message loud and clear. take care of him, will you? you nod slightly before dragging your boyfriend out of the stadium.

the drive to your hotel was silent, the music keeping it from becoming awkward. the walk to your hotel room was slightly worse. you finally enter and force him to sit on the bed.

“babe, i- what?” he asks, confused and slightly flustered.

“nothing like that you idiot.” you slap him lightly on the head. “just wanna talk ‘s all.”

he avoids your gaze but you grab his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “hey” you smile, “how do you feel, my love?”

by this point, he looks to be on the verge of tears. you pull him into your chest and he finally breaks down.

“you deserve so much better than a loser like me, doll. much much better than someone who practices all day and all night and still couldn’t manage to bring his team past their first day- a complete and utter failure.” he sobs lightly. you shush him and run your hands through his hair.

“ ‘mu, you know you’re so much more than that, right?” you ask softly. he opens his mouth to interrupt but you continue, “you have a natural talent for this sport, and a drive and ambition unlike anyone i know. you’re the absolute best boyfriend, and a good brother. you’ve learned to care for your teammates, and they’ve learned to love you for you, not just your skills. you’ve grown so much as a person that no one can call you a failure- ever. and if they do, send them to me.” you crack your knuckles and finish with a wink.

he chuckled lightly and pulls away from you. “i love ya, you know? i really don’t know what i did to be able to get a partner as perfect as you.” he ends with a kiss.

- ushijima wakatoshi

his love language is gifts

okay his is specifically giving gifts

not even extravagant gifts, just small knickknacks he sees that reminds him of u

he knows he isn’t the best with his words, so he tries to make up for it with these trinkets

you enter the gym and your eyes immediately lock on your boyfriend. you see tendou nudge him and point over in your direction, and you smile at the way his eyes soften. you walk over to the bench and give him a small kiss.

“hey toshi” you say with a smile, “i hope you don’t mind me coming over to watch you.”

“of course not, my love. your presence is a very welcome distraction” he answers, his eyes lighting up as he remembered something, “actually, it is very convenient timing.”

he pulls something out of his bag and hands it to you. he watches the way your eyes light up at the keychain and explains, “i remembered that you wanted something for us to match,” he pulls out a matching keychain, the lighter side of the yin and yang symbol, “so i got us this. i assumed you would want the darker side? unless i assumed wrong and you wish to switch?”

you kiss him once more, “it’s perfect, tosh, thank you.” you reply with a bright smile, the joy in your eyes evident. you kiss him a final time before gently nudging him back to the court, “i’ll be here, miracle boy.” you say, amusement and love shining in your eyes.

as wakatoshi walks back toward his best friend, he realizes that he’d do anything to make sure you look at him like that for the rest of your lives.

- kuroo tetsurou

his love language is quality time

okay so i hc kuroo as someone who wants to be with you 24/7

like while doing hw he would be facetiming you, walks you to classes, wants you to watch practice & brings you home after, etc.

he does this because it makes him feel like he’s knowing everything there is to know about you. he wants to understand each and every side to you cause he knows it will only make him love you more.

“babyyy” kuroo whined, “are you done yet?”

you sighed and answered, “like the last 5 times you asked, no. if you want to go to the party that bad, then you can go ahead. i’ll try to catch up.”

he scoffed, “and have to suffer without you? no thanks.”

“they’re your friends.” you deadpanned, irritation evident in your eyes.

“okay, but you’re much more interesting- easier on the eyes too.” he winked, “and besides, i’m going to have to stare at their ugly faces for a week.”

“and you’ll miss me” you chimed in.

he nodded, “and i’ll miss you. which is why you should just come with me to the training camp. just, i don’t know, pretend to be a manager? please?” he pleaded.

“you’ll be fine without me for a week, you idiot.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“it will be a week of hell.” he stated, “which is why i want to spend as much time as i can with you before i have to leave. and if that means sitting here while you do your homework, then so be it.”

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