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#i know this is basic but i like it anyway
listles-s · 2 days
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man laios and toshiro's/shuro's dynamic is incredibly compelling to me on multiple levels
when you look at them, you can see the cultural and personal barriers that drive almost every single aspect of their relationship, both positively and negatively. laios is incredibly outspoken and driven by his passions, which he expresses freely even in the face of annoyance and/or criticism- he's allowed to be as authentically himself as he pleases, and it's this drive that allows him and the others to survive as long as they have, especially due to the fact that these passions and interests are intertwined with his skills as a dungeon diver. toshiro, in contrast, is incredibly reserved, not only due to his eastern upbringing but also his status as nobility- a combo of cultures that both demand that one save face, to avoid conflict at any cost, even at the expense of one's own feelings and individuality. this, in turn, has made toshiro the perfect samurai, as he's politely-spoken, agreeable, and an honorable, skilled man. both are also incredibly devoted to falin on different levels, having come to accomplish the same mission of her rescue despite drifting apart from the party.
on the flipside, it's these same strengths that cause them to clash- laios is outspoken but unable to truly decipher the emotions of others, leading to a lot of false assumptions and frustration from those who interact with him. toshiro is stoic but to the point of complacency, leading to a aggressively neutral disposition that's ushered by the needs and wants of others, rather than himself. neither man truly knows where they stand with the people important to them in their lives, and hold the ones that they do know how they feel with a fierce admiration expressed in ways that aren't always traditional.
in the end, they both share a growing feeling of isolation from other people that comes to a head when they meet again in the depths of the dungeon, and they both have different ways of coping with the frustrations that arise, seeing the other as only the things they have seen face to face.
it's laios' ability to express himself emotionally without consequence that sparks jealousy in toshiro, leading to a physical fight born out of miscommunication and envy. while toshiro is a driving force in the conflict, it should be noted that the actual fight is started by laios, breaking the dam of indirect communication through force. nothing is more direct than a slap to the face, and it's only after they start hitting each other that toshiro's true feelings come to light.
however, at the end of it all, toshiro is the one who stops torturing himself, listening to laios and giving him the bell, allowing laios and his party entrance into his homeland should they need it, and ultimately giving him support in his mission to defeat the dungeon mage, albeit in his own way. despite it all, they're still good friends with a conflict that boiled over, but came out the other end with a slightly better understanding of each other. the fight was painful for both of them, but it was a necessity for their dynamic to improve, and for them to be made aware of their faults and improve as individuals as well.
but also, if you think about it, their dynamic is literally just this
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lygma-nygma · 20 hours
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Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.
#this post was inspired by me remembering the experience of reading death in the family#after only knowing the fanbase version and realizing oh none of that shit happened okay#like girl you don’t understand it’s so bad#Jason wasn’t even fired as Robin#He’s not accused of murdering anyone by Bruce#He’s not trying to prove himself at all he’s just looking for his mom#The reason Bruce didn’t go after him right away is because he was tracking down a goddamn nuke the Joker stole#Then after he finds it and handles the problem he helps Jason track down moms 2 and 3#Also Jason died in like 20 minutes?? even less??#He died in less time than it took his mother to smoke a cigarette#Bruce literally went ‘wait here I’ll be right back’ and was gone for less time than a trip to the grocery store#and then you go into the Jason Todd tag and they act like Bruce pulled the damn trigger on him#Like besties I don’t know how to tell you this he basically did everything right he possibly could have#Even him benching Jason from Robin temporarily happens so that he can get Jason into therapy about his trauma#Like the whole point is that neither of them did anything wrong bad shit just sometimes happens#That’s the tragedy. The drama.#Bruce couldn’t have made better choices in the position he was in and Jason was never going to make different ones#It was inevitable#Anyway rant over please read death in the family before I lose my mind#batfam#batman#jason todd#tim drake#dick grayson#damian wayne#bruce wayne
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tabbedtabby · 2 days
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good luck, babe! | chapter 2
regina george x reader
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summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)
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When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.
You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?
You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.
You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.
After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.
“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.
“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.
You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.
You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.
“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.
“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.
“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.
“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”
You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”
“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.
“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”
You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.
“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.
Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.
“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.
Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.
You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.
She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.
Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.
Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.
“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.
You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.
“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.
“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.
“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.
“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.
Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.
You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.
Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.
Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?
-
After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.
This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.
“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.
“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.
Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.
You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.
Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.
“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?
“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.
“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.
“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.
“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.
“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.
“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.
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alwaysshallow · 22 hours
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i'm thinking of john price and reader, childhood best friends. you're close with him basically from second grade. inseparable, even when he went to the military and the daily talks weren't possible. you wrote letters to him nonetheless, describing what exactly happened, so he wouldn't miss a thing. he's too important for you to lose, and he thinks the same way about you to.
maybe that's why you two made a promise to each other that if you two are gonna be single till 40, you two will marry. after all, what is so wrong in marrying your best friend? nothing, and if it means sticking with each other to the end, then so be it. he was gonna be here anyway, till the end.
you even made a small paper, like it was some sort of agreement or something like that.
with years, you think it's some sort of joke because even if you have boyfriends, no one really sticks and sooner or later, they leave. john, on the other hand, has no one - says he's too busy with the military and flings are better, so you don't pay mind to that too much.
and you probably should. almost all of your “boyfriends” left you because he was, and still will be the problem. he’s too close, acting way too friendly, scaring your boyfriends off or simply threatening them - and, getting the job done. your latest ex-boyfriend knows something about it, considering that he landed in the hospital with several broken bones:/ 
it’s your blind faith in john that is a problem too; you simply can’t believe that a man, so gentle and so friendly could harm anyone. after all, all he wants is you to be happy, right?? that’s why you haven’t caught up in his lies.
“they’re simply not worthy,” he muses, kissing the top of your head. “men these days… disappointing, aren’t they?” 
“you could introduce me to someone.” you roll your eyes with a smile, when he shakes his head. “haven’t you told me that military men are the best?”
“i did,” he starts, leaning against the frame, “but that’s only me. others are… filthy. possessive, obsessive, acting like they possess you whenever they have eyes on you.”
“and you?” you raise your eyebrow.
“i am your best friend. that’s something entirely different, love.”
and the conversation ends on that; you remember them when he puts an engagement ring on your finger, on the day of his 40th birthday.
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kermitthesog · 3 days
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yeah i know everybody has said this or thought this before. will that stop me from making paragraphs after paragraphs? no.
annabeth and percy are actually the perfect duo.
no i don’t just mean in their relationship.
annabeth, (being the daughter of athena and all) will always be the one coming up with attack strategies or tricks. but…percy is so good at actually pulling them off.
in one book she says she’s all ideas, not mechanics. while she might be a good fighter, she isn’t as good as percy. whatever insane idea she might have, percy will do it. he’s also brave, which helps with the fact that most of her ideas involve distractions and lots of fighting and trickery.
not that he’s not smart and he can’t do anything like that. but, with many books as an example, he likes simply charging in. he doesn’t really go in with a “strategy.” most of the time it works out anyway because he’s *super* powerful.
but think of how many times he would’ve been absolutely obliterated if annabeth hadn’t kept him on the right track. she thinks ahead. he thinks moments before he gets his face socked in. i just think this is another reason that they’re perfect together. annabeth is basically just telling him what to do while he obliterates everyone. you cannot tell me otherwise.
(P.S.- i was reading the demigod files and got this idea cause we’ve all thought this, but i just realized how big it is.)
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ghastlyaffairs · 14 hours
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for something as trivial and simple those feelings sure are hard to get rid of
also made a gif a version for fun + alt version with no tears under the cut
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the gif is in very low resolution...this is a feature (i could make it bigger but that would require saving each frame individually and than glueing it all together. also i feel like low resolution suits it better. aesthetically and fits the mood)
#hs#homestuck#dirk strider#eye strain#probably? if you think i should tag something else let me know!!#anyway hooray its time for rambling in the tags#so uhhh heres the teæ i've been sick for like a week and you know how it is when suddenly your throat becomes the main gunk warehouse#and you can't breathe lol. wish i could just pull it out. anywaaayy this is basically a vent piece for me being sick lol#also i could draw remotively the same thing with kris deltarune. oh how easy it is to project having a cold#though i have been also experiencing troubles with feelings recently as well....how fitting for dirk#speaking of the man himself (enough of me) his relationship with his own Heart...is peculiar to say the least#the thing i love about alphakids is that despite being so feral they were. so relatable. i cannot stress this enough how unwell they are an#and how they represented being a teen so well. yeah being 15 years old makes that to you#imagine being an emotional mess and trying to fit the 'norm' and act normal about your friends so youre not offputting#and then you fall in love with you friend and your ai clone falls in love with him too looool noone makes out of this one alive#uhh literally. godtiering stuff and dying remember#and speaking of it. tw for suicidal talk for the rest of tags#do you ever think dirk was suicidal. of course the part of when he teleports his head to jake was totally planned and he knew he would ->#wake up as dreamself but. don't you think the moment he cut his head off was sort of. cathartic. how much did he hate his own guts#beheading himself not only for the plan...but also because he thought he 'deserved' it#also wow he is a Prince and was literally beheaded don't you think its funny hahaa#sigh poor thing#this has ended on a not the very pleasant note hm#also fckkkkkk i didn't draw anything with rose/mary for the lesbian visabilty week#(putting the slash because tumblr search system has a dumb gag with showing you posts that contain the tag inside the other tag.#and i don't want this post to show up for the ros/mary fans because it's not!!!! its rose's father emotional crisis post!!!!)#update YOOOO WHAT THE HELL THE GIF HAS EVEN LESS PIXELS THEN I PLANNED fantastic#this your breakfast now tumblr. enjoy your crunchy flakes of dirks meltdown. mwah
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wordsarelife · 2 days
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞
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pairing: theo nott x fem!reader
summary: mistakes can happen but this one might cost them a record deal, so they definitely needs some help from you
warnings: cursing, unsafe driving, someone gets hurt, let me know if i missed any!
notes: mattheo and enzo are brothers in this story, i just decided hehe. (they both keep their respective name, they’re step brothers, since childhood so they are practically real brothers anyway lol)
let me know if you’ve enjoyed this part :))
"you're so funny, enz" april was laying belly down on your bed, while she was busy giggling into her phone. enzo had asked her if she still had the same number she had in middle school and promptly followed her confirmation with the question if she would be free to call after school.
april had agreed before she remembered that she was going to your place. but, because you were a good friend, you had told her that it was no problem.
now she was laying on your bed talking to enzo, who, you were pretty sure, was at theo's.
you now regreted telling her that it wouldn't be a problem, considering they had been talking for the last hour or so.
you sighed, deeply, before you decided that there was only one way to get your friend back. you took the blog from your desk and scribbled the words down, before you hung it in your window.
as if he had waited for you to write something, theo stood in front of the window and read your message.
do something you had written, featuring at least 7 exclamation marks.
theo looked at you as if you had gone crazy. why should i do anything to help you?
because i bet enzo is just as annoying, isn't he?
theo only spotted a face that made an answer from him unnecessary. he just nodded and walked away.
"oh, already?" you could hear april ask behind you "no, it's fine. i get it, i'll be waiting" and with that she ended the call.
"i'll be waiting?" you asked, with a quirked brow.
"that was embarrassing wasn't it? i should've just said bye like a normal person"
"well, you're not a normal person" you smiled "and i don't think that you could do anything to make him leave you alone at this point"
"you really think so?"
"of course i do, april" you sat down beside her "why did he have to leave so suddenly?" you tried to not sound suspicious, but you were really curious what theo had done to get enzo off his very important call. luckily, april hadn't even noticed what you had been doing.
"band practice" she shrugged "theo is a strict boss"
"i bet" you mumbled while your eyes were still fixated on the piece of paper in his window. why should i do anything to help you? catapulting you right back to the night a year ago. you shuddered at the thought of it and tried to ban it from your head as fast as possible. theo was a constant reminder of your mistakes and maybe it wasn't him you hated but the realization of fault that hit you anytime your eyes fell on him.
✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆。𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦
the garage was filled with thick air that had been warmed all day as the sun beamed down tremendously. theo rubbed the sweat off his forehead as he sat his bag down inside.
enzo walked to the couch to open his guitar case. he halted in his motion and the rest of his friends perked up at his lack of movement.
"no, enzo" blaise muttered "not again, come on"
"it did not do it on purpose" enzo turned around to face his friends and theo looked around his body to confirm what he basically already knew.
"where's your head at?" draco's tone matched the annoyance that was bubbling in theo's chest.
"is that a serious question?" matt laughed "it's deep under april's skirt"
"matt" enzo sighed as he rubbed his neck in embarrassment.
"april hart?" blaise asked "the one you've had a crush on since she moved here in first great?" enzo nodded and blaise laughed "that's what i call consistancy, mate"
enzo would've probably laughed if it weren't for the bitter look the bands' leader was still spotting. "are you angry?"
theo sighed. "it's the third time you forgot it, enz"
"i know, i'm sorry, theo" enzo brushed a hand through his hair, before he turned in draco's direction “can i lend your car and get it, please? i won't take long"
"are you kidding me?" draco asked humorless "my mother is gonna kill me if something happens to that car. i'll drive"
"i'll come with ya" mattheo stood up from the couch.
"why don't we just all go?" theo asked sarcastically.
"yeah, why not?" blaise smiled, not catching that theo was just making a joke.
"no, i meant-" the group was already walking out to the car and theo just accepted his fate. "why not" he mumbled before he got in the back seat.
enzo was sitting in the middle of him and blaise, while mattheo had been able to plant his arse on the passenger seat next to draco, who was already setting the car back.
"it's so silent" mattheo mumbled "why don't we listen to some good music" he grabbed a cd from his pocket and just a second after, the loud drums and guitar of blood//water, the first song on cursed legacy's debut album floated through the car.
the boys broke into cheering. "you made a cd?" draco asked smiling, while mattheo nodded proudly.
"old school" enzo grinned, but clapped mattheo's shoulder nonetheless.
"hey" draco said harshly "you stay back there" he pushed enzo back into his seat. "i told you guys to hold him" he looked into the mirror and found theo's eyes, who looked not entirely happy, but did as he was told.
the seatbelt of the middle seat in draco's mums car had been broken for a while. she had originally forbidden them from riding in the car with five people, but draco tended to ignore her rule, even if he normally was quite fussy about anything happening to the car, banning drinks and food completely. but theo's car was still getting fixed by his uncle, so it was their only option.
"while we're on the topic of the band" blaise said "did you call that guy back? the one from the record label?" he asked theo.
theo smiled "i did, yeah. thats what i originally wanted to talk to you all about, but enzo was busy talking to the demon's bestie"
"demon is a rather harsh word" draco muttered.
"aren't you guys a bit too old to upkeep that childish feud?" mattheo asked. "you used to tell her everything and now you're not even saying a word about the record label thing"
"i really thought you guys would go back to normal after everything with leo" enzo added and all heads turned to him.
"i told you not to mention him" theo said angrily and enzo slumped down in his seat.
"it's been a year, mate" draco’s eyes found theo's in the mirror.
"it doesn't matter" theo shook his head, before he abruptly changed the topic. "he wants to see us, as the preact of some band in six weeks"
"the record guy? really?" mattheo perked up "thats like super soon"
"he seemed really excited" theo shrugged "this could be our chance guys. we get that deal and in less than a year we're off to america or tokyo and probably recording our second album, while already writing the third"
"as long as our little shakespeare keeps working that won't be a problem" blaise ruffled theo's hair, his hands letting go of enzo, while theo was busy slapping his friends hands away, hence why he also let go of the younger boy in the middle.
"hey! what did i tell you?" draco full on turned around in his seat.
the next three seconds happened all at once. mattheo was the first who screamed. it had taken draco less than a second of not looking to effectively drive off the street and in the direction of the nearest tree. draco turned around alarmed, swerving the car to the side, luckily not driving frontal into the tree. he stopped the car at the same time, what would've been fine, if blaise and theo had held on to enzo again, or if his seatbelt had simply been working.
he went flying trough the car, mattheo's arm darting to the side, to stop enzo flying through the car's windshield. sadly, his force wasn't enough and enzo still hit the dashboard quite hard, but at least he stayed inside the car.
"ow" enzo cried, holding his arm.
"shit, shit, shit" draco muttered under his breath. "is anyone hurt? are you all fine?" theo could hear his voice break.
"blaise and i are fine" he said quickly, to calm his friend "but enzo.." all eyes turned to enzo who was laying in the middle of the car, between mattheo and draco, who was staring down at him wide-eyed.
mattheo excused himself to call an ambulance.
"this is all my fault" draco brushed a few tears away from his cheeks "i should've just given him the car, or gotten the guitar on my own, i should've never-" he was interrupted by theo.
"it isn't your fault, draco" he assured "blaise and i let go of enzo in the first place, it was our job to keep him safe and we got distracted"
"i shouldn't have screamed at you like that" draco put his head on the steering wheel, trying to hide the stress on his face.
"theo is right, mate" blaise added "it's on us"
it seemed like draco wasn't even hearing him. "i will probably lose my license"
"you won't" enzo muttered through clenched teeth "we'll say there was a deer"
"i'm so sorry, enz" draco excused, it seemed like he only remembered now that enzo was still laying in the middle, holding his arm. "does it hurt badly? i actually don't care about the license, they can take it, as long as you're fine"
"i think my arm is broken" enzo held up his right arm, which was bloody and looked like it wasn't supposed to be formed the way it was right now.
"shit, enz" draco rubbed a hand through his face, before he quickly opened the door and threw up on the floor.
"the ambulence will be here in ten minutes" mattheo said, as he poked his head through the door. "what is he doing?" he wondered once his eyes fell on draco, who was still hanging half out of the car.
"puking" enzo, blaise and theo chorused.
"gross" mattheo shuddered, before he opened the backdoor of the car. "you guys should come outside, so the medical team can assist enzo better. we shouldn't move him"
"yeah" theo nodded, while he pushed blaise out of the car.
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“why did i have to come with you again?” you were walking from the parking spot to the entry of the hospital.
“because someone had to drive the car” april pointed to the phone in her hand, which she had used to try and call enzo the entire way here. her hadn’t picked up so she insisted on visiting him, but not without a few different sorts of chocolate (she wasn’t sure which he liked) and flowers.
“yeah i get that, totally” you rolled your eyes, so that she wouldn’t see “but do i really have to come inside?”
“i need moral support”
“you’re not the one who broke his arm”
“enzo might be happy to see more than one friendly face”
“it’s not like he’s laying on his death bed, april” you nudged her arm “i’m sure he comes home today, we could’ve just gone to his house tomorrow”
“i want to see him”
“okay, fine” you groaned, but followed her inside, where she was already leaning half over the receptionists desk.
“how can i help you?” the lady was rather unimpressed by april’s eagerness.
“we’re here to see enzo, ehh lorenzo berkshire” she quickly corrected.
the woman raised her eyebrows, before she started tapping words into her computer.
“pixie?” a voice called and your head turned to the side. you tried many times not to react to the name, but you sometimes couldn’t help it. theo had been consistent for the last ten years so it was in your nature.
“mattheo” you greeted.
the dark haired boy was holding two cups of what looked like coffee. “they belong to me” he told the lady at the reception. “i’m lorenzo’s brother, i came with the ambulance, you remember?” he waited for some kind of confirmation, but she was already busy with something else, easily going back to ignoring you.
mattheo made a gesture for you to follow him down the hall. “pretty unfortunate, heh?” he grinned awkwardly.
“it’s horrible” april declared “i mean how is he supposed to play? he told me something about a record deal that you guys might get”
“yeah” mattheo looked to the ground, before he changed the topic. “he will be so happy to see you” he smiled at april and april mirrored his expression.
mattheo halted in front of a door. “could one of you..?” he trailed off, as he looked down at the cups in his hands.
“oh of course” april said quickly.
“i should maybe stay outside” you held the flowers and the chocolate in april’s direction, who raised her eyebrows.
“are you kidding?” mattheo laughed unimpressed “of course you’re coming inside. enzo will be ecstatic to see you both”
“her? sure, but me?” you asked unsurely “also, theo is probably in there, so i don’t-“
“he will behave himself” mattheo promised “come on, pixie”
you send him a look. mattheo knew about the nickname as long as it existed and he would only call you that sometimes. theo used it to make fun of you, but when mattheo said it, he meant it in a friendly way. you all had grown up together, naturally as you lived so close and in a small town. for mattheo, pixie was not in insult, but the last bit of proof that you had been friends once. after theo and you had fallen out, you had automatically fallen out with all the boys.
sometimes it hurt you to remember. remember how you and mattheo had spent hours listening to sherlock holmes and climbing trees. or how you had helped draco to read as he was having problems, days when you were washing gum out of blaise’s hair and taught enzo to tie his shoelaces. and theo, theo had always been where you were, he was never far. and everything had slipped away in a single night.
but it was too late to make amends. mattheo knew that as good as you. maybe you all could stop fighting, but go back to normal? probably never.
“hey” enzo raised both his arms when he noticed april and you walk in behind mattheo. “ow” he muttered.
blaise and draco were sitting on chairs on either side of enzo’s bed. theo was standing a bit away from the rest of his friends, leaning against the window.
“what is she doing here?” theo stepped forward when his eyes fell on you.
“hey, don’t talk to my guest that way” enzo pushed theo back, so he was leaning against the window again.
“april needed some help carrying all this” you opened your arms, displaying the different sorts of chocolate and flowers.
“how are you feeling?” april asked, slowly touching enzo’s cheek. “does it still hurt?”
you could practically see the flip switch in enzo’s head, as he realized how much she cared.
“a bit” he said dramatically and his voice dropped a whole octave. “but i think i’ll live”
you exchanged a look with mattheo, who raised his eyebrows at his little brothers dramatics.
“how long do you have to wear the cast?” you asked, while you put the chocolate down on the night stand. blaise immediately took one of them.
“hey that’s for me!” enzo protested.
“we need emotional leverage” blaise rolled his eyes, before he unpacked the chocolate and bit a whole piece off. he then held it in draco’s direction, who took it and started nibbling on it like a mouse.
enzo sighed before he looked back at you “between four and twelve weeks”
“shit” april deadpanned “what about the record deal?”
“okay, are you guys really getting one or are all of you in on a bit i don’t know about?” you wondered. there had been a few too many mentions of a possible record deal.
“no” mattheo shook his head smiling “there’s this guy from the label and he wanted to see us at the preact for a band who plays in the concert hall outside the town in six weeks”
“we can forget about that now” draco whined.
“that’s shit” you looked down “i’m sorry, that’s really awful”
“don’t act like you’re not making internal jumps of joy” theo spoke for the first time since you had entered. “you hated the band from the minute we..” he paused and cleared his throat, before he added “continued”
“you really think i’m that big of an asshole?”
“come on, theo” blaise added “don’t be like this now”
“it must be the first point on that little to do list of yours, huh? what do you want to hear? you were right? we’ll never get famous”
“shut up” you shook your head at him.
“stop fucking lying about the way you feel about my band”
“mate” draco tried to push theo back, who was walking closer to you.
april and enzo were exchanging worried glances as they noticed the tears building up in your eyes.
“theo” mattheo stepped next to his friend, laying a hand on his chest, to hopefully calm him down.
“why did you even come here?”
“i’m only here because of april and enzo” you said between clenched teeth “now stop acting like i’m here to laugh about your misery”
“the band could’ve made it big”
“i know” you simply said.
the others were following the discussion between you attentively, turning their heads, like a tennis match, from side to side, whenever one of you spoke.
“my band could’ve made it big”
you looked up at theo with teary eyes, before you nodded, once, finally. then you turned to look at april. “i’ll walk home” you turned to enzo “get well soon, enzo”
“thank you” enzo replied breathless.
you send one last look in theo’s direction, who gulped as he saw the tears flowing over your cheeks, before you left the room.
“what?” theo asked as he turned around and noticed the angry looks of his friends.
“was that really necessary?” mattheo sighed. “she came here because of enzo, knowing well that you would be here. she wanted to wait outside and i convinced and even told her that you would behave this time”
“you really are mentally seven aren’t you?” blaise asked and theo felt bad that he made your visit to enzo all about himself.
“you know how i feel about seeing her”
“how could we not?” draco muttered “you make it clear over and over again”
“it doesn’t matter anyway, the record deal is through and we can just stop being a band now” theo sank to his knees.
april and enzo exchanged a look, before enzo cleared his throat. “technically you just need a stand in for me”
“what?” theo looked up.
“it’s not over, theo” enzo said “you just need to find someone who can play the parts, or at least learn them in six weeks and after my arm is alright i can come back”
“he’s not wrong” blaise nodded “we just need to bag that deal and the rest is not important right now”
“okay, who?” theo deadpanned “you’re incredible on the guitar, who could we possibly find to be just as good?”
“you know that there is someone who was better” enzo looked down in his lap. the rest of the group grew silent too.
“what has that to do with anything?” theo asked defensively.
april turned her head to look at the dark haired boy. “he taught her” she said. “everything”
“what?” theo asked, not believing what he was hearing right now. “what are you saying?”
“we’re saying that you should ask y/n” draco put it simply.
“absolutely not” theo shook his head “i’m sure we can find someone else”
“you just said that there was no one good enough to stand in for me” enzo noted “she might be our best option”
“even if he taught her” theo added “that was over a year ago, who says that she even still plays anymore?”
“she does” april muttered “she’s good, really good”
theo sighed.
“just ask her, mate” mattheo, who had mostly stayed silent, clapped a hand on his best friends shoulder. “we need this record deal”
“i know” theo sighed.
“she’s a slow walker” april pointed to the door and theo raised his eyebrows.
“go!” his friends all chorused when he did not move. he left the room.
“beg her on your knees if you have to!” mattheo called behind theo, before the door fell closed.
“do you really think she’ll help us?”
“i honestly don’t know” april shrugged “but i’m sure theo has to find a way to go even lower than just his knees if he really wants to beg her”
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taglist:
@7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc
(i have problems tagging some of you, maybe check your setting and make sure you’ve allowed people to tag you!!)
leave a comment if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist!
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lamentofabramo · 2 days
Note
Can I get an NSFW alphabet for Tobias Rogers (ticci toby) 🫶
I've been doing a bigger piece, so I might as well do something smaller like this since it's been a good while since I've posted now. (oops)
I'm basing this less on the fandom vers of him, hopefully.
Didn't proofread this much. (edit: I feel bad that I didn't acknowledge the heart, so <3 of course you can doll)
MINORS DNI
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Toby obviously is one of the more caring of the creepypasta's, of course that's a low bar, but he is considerably more human than some of them. He's still gruff and fairly untalkative after the deed, yet he'd offer some water before leaving if you were just a one-off/ casual fuck.
If you were his partner however, I'd imagine he'd be more caring, still untalkative and unaffectionate, but maybe he'd hold you or hold your hand in this. Of course, he'd blame this on being unable to properly feel what he's holding, but the slow decrease in his twitches as he holds you speaks a lot more than he ever will. He's not comfortable, but he feels slightly less stress in your presence, at least until he has to leave, his mind penetrated by the voice of the foreboding presence of the ever-taller man.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His own favourite body part would probably be his arms, he was a scrawny kid for most of his life, but you sure would start gaining muscle if you swung your axe at people who you considered worthy of it. There's probably also some scars across his arms that remind him of his life before. Of course, he'd hate that idea, but he still has some attachment to his sister, his mother, no matter how hard he may try to push it out of his head.
For his favourite part of his partners, I feel like it'd most likely be your waist. It's something for him to grab, to hold onto to remember you're real, that you're still alive against his better judgement.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) If you asked for it in a specific place, sure he'd do it if he was in a good mood. On your chest, ass, inside even. He'd risk it, he had nothing to truly lose anyway. But his favourite place would most likely be on your stomach, just the wet streaks across your stomach would do things for him. He's not sure why either, he wouldn't register that he does that almost every time unless you pointed it out to him.
If you did, he'd probably consider why for a second, his eyes widening in realization before shrugging. "Any better ideas?" he'd mumble, absently listening as he stroked himself. Toby would listen if you told him anywhere else, but… his eyes focused on that smooth surface.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He secretly wants to push the boundaries of his condition. He wants your hands around his neck, trying to choke him until it hurt. It was strange really, he had a high pain tolerance, yet he craved this pain. Maybe it was because he wanted to be normal, maybe not. He didn't want to think too hard on it, like many other things he just shrugged at the idea and continued with his life.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Toby was definitely not an experienced guy, even before the accident where he finally became 'free' (If you could say being slenderman's lackey was free) the most he'd done was hold hands with a girl in primary school.
He wouldn't be insecure with it however, he never viewed himself as a sexual being, the most he'd ever fucked was his fist on particularly rough nights. Sure, he'd had crushes on women, but when you become a serial killer you go one of two ways. A sex maniac or a complete recluse. Unfortunately, Toby became the latter.
However, since he had a less than regular childhood, he was never able to go through the same sexual awakenings as many of his peers. Instead, that most likely came later, so when he met you he was awkward, like a teenage boy. Most of his language is through grumbles and grunts anyway.
When he realized you were stuck in his head it all changed though, his sex drive increased massively. His poor hand.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Cowgirl probably rocks his world, he loves that intense eye contact that comes with it. The way he looks up at you through his fringe, his mouth slightly open as he pants and grunts, is a reward in itself. However, he would get impatient, his hips thrusting up to meet yours or his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you down further on his cock.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) If something was funny to him, then he'd smirk, like if you hid your body from him even though he was about to be deep inside of you.
When he gets further into the activity, he'd let out breathless laughs, sometimes blaming that on his tics. He couldn't help it, though, he loved the way you responded to him.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Toby probably doesn't care much about how groomed he is, sometimes he'll shave, but other than that he's got whatever going on.
He has a small happy-trail up to his belly button though, it shows when he raises his axe too high. It's a dark brown colour, just like his hair.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect) He's probably not particularly intimate, maybe some words here or there if he feels like it, but don't overestimate him too much. He probably came inside you before he kissed you.
His cheeks pinken slightly whenever you suggest kissing, but he quickly slouches and looks away with an almost childish pout to pretend as though he doesn't care.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Like I said in the earlier one, sure he jacked off every now and again, but it was more so a way to pass the time, to get some serotonin in his ever-pleasant life. But when he gets fixated on something, or rather in your case, someone, his sex drive spikes. He wants you in his hands, in his vice, it frustrates him, so he takes this frustration out on himself.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He's probably degrading, mixed with praise. He's basically up for anything. He's killed someone, I'm sure a weird kink won't kill him.
However, if he does think your kinks are unusual he will take the piss out of you for it, teasing, but he still takes part in it. Its fun.
L = Location (favourite places to do the do) Wherever you want, he's not arsed, really. Against a tree sounds the most fun.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) As cheesy as this sounds, you. Maybe some aggression on your side would get him going too, that mouth of yours was lethal sometimes.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Like I said before, he's practically up for anything. He might not be physically aggressive for you too much, though, it'd remind him of his past.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He's a munch, if he's in the mood enough, he could probably cum from giving you head. He'd deny that though, God that'd be embarrassing.
Not only that, but he'd receive too, no doubt, Toby would find it fun to just gently tug your head up and down on his cock.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Toby would probably be slow but deep if he's teasing you. But if he's just fucking you, then it'd be fast, his hands pulling you down on his cock with faster speed.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Hell yeah brother. Just give him the words, he might tease you for it, but he'd never say no (unless he's in a more depressive mood).
He'd love to fuck you in the back of his car too, or masky's car. Just for the hell of it.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) He's a risky guy, but surprisingly, he wouldn't do anything that could get him potentially caught by the law. He's on the run for a reason, he's not willing to risk his freedom for a good fuck (sometimes).
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) He'd probably like to overstimulate slightly, 2/3 rounds before he's clocked out and completely dry. He'd last an average enough time, 20 minutes normally.
T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Seeing your body twitch with something that isn't him would make him jealous. However, a little vibrator never hurt anyone. He'd tease you if you had any dildos or anything, though, asking pettily if he "wasn't enough" or that you were "stretching yourself out" for him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Big tease, but he always fulfils your wants. It may take a while, though.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) The only noise he really makes is grunting and whispers on how dirty you are. He's loud enough that you can hear him, but not loud enough for it to be a full-blown moan.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He does want to see how you'd look crying for him all bloodied up, most likely someone else's blood, but he's not picky. Maybe fucking you on top of a recently deceased.
But he'd never admit that.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) An average to slightly bigger man, About 6.4 inches. Probably measured it one time when he was bored, and he hung onto the .4 for his ego.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Not too high unless you exist, then…as much as he can get his hands on you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He doesn't sleep much after it, doesn't feel comfortable sleeping in front of others, even someone like you. His nightmares don't help.
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Hey I saw you have a titanium ankle - how does having that kind of implant feel? Obviously not the same thing but my dad's getting a hip replacement soon and I wanna know more beforehand
In my case it's a bit different, if I understand hip replacements correctly - rather than anything being replaced, I got... bolt-ons. Literally.
(Basically, to keep a boring story short, when I was 24 I walked down some stairs, an act I have performed my whole life without incident. This, I suspect, was the problem. I forgot to Respect The Stairs. So one moment I was moving smoothly and one might say procedurally downwards from one step to the next using both feet in an alternating fashion (that being the style at the time), and then the next I was falling.
And I caught the bannister! I went maybe three steps at most. But unfortunately, when I tried using my right foot in my usual manner (i.e. to support my body's weight in an upright position), I apparently placed it sort of... on its side? With the sole of my foot angled outwards to the right rather than directly down.
So when my weight came down I literally snapped my foot off. Those are not my words, you understand. Those were the words of the medical professional who looked at my x-rays, closely followed by "Your skin is holding it on.")
Anyway it took three operations over two weeks to bolt it back on, so what I have is an extensive and beautiful Mechano-like construct made of plates and screws holding the bones together. I have naturally slim ankles, so if you pay attention you can see that one is a bit wider than the other now (which does affect boots); also I can feel the edge of one of the plates if I press with my fingers.
But actually other than that, there's no difference. I can't feel a weight difference at all. I can't point that foot as well as the other, but that's the injury rather than the plates. The doctors at the time told me I could eventually have them removed if I wanted, but only after five years; but honestly, I haven't been affected enough to care. It's actually a stronger ankle now than the bio-one, so eh.
Also I did try magnets. Didn't take, titanium is not magnetic.
OH - it also doesn't get picked up by those walk-through airport metal detectors, but it does if they have to use the wand on you, because that's more powerful. I imagine that will be the same for your Dad. So it shouldn't affect travel or what have you.
In any case, I hope any of that was helpful, and good luck to your Dad! They're supposed to be magical things, hip replacements, so fingers crossed he gets his smoothly and without complications.
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pukanavis · 1 day
Text
Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1
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ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.
Fuyume: Excuse me?
Are there any fairy tales here…?
Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?
Thank you for your help.
~...♪
(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)
(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)
(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)
(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)
(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)
(This story is another one that Yume adores.)
(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)
…♪
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Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?
You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.
Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?
How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?
Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?
That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.
Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪
Huh? That’s not the issue?
Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.
Here he was thinking you were a nice person.
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Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.
And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?
You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…? 
Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪
Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?
It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.
Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪
What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪
If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.
Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.
…♪
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Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?
Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.
Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else. 
Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst. 
Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?
—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”
Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.
Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.
In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.
It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪
The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.
After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—
With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—
Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.
Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.
After everything, the final wish she makes is—
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Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!
Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.
At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—
Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.
After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.
You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?
Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.
—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”
During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness. 
Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.
For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.
Huh? Does Yume love Esu?
It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.
But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.
—The amethyst already shattered long ago.
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ramblebrambleamble · 3 days
Text
Watching the Dungeon Meshi anime and Laios is really sweet? Whenever someone, usually Marcille, is having a bad time emotionally he's really patient and nice with them. Hilarious though that Chilchuck is pulling him aside almost every episode for a scolding though.
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pholla-jm · 3 days
Note
Sukuna with a S/O who has a sweet tooth/Loves eating sweets ?? :00
Like imagine most of the time they go on a date it's basically just reader and him going to different shops trying out desserts and sweets
Hello! Sorry it took me awhile! I got busy with work and my new class had just started. I decided to add some more to this. I hope you like it!! *********
Sweet Tooth
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IMAGINE: SWEET TOOTH~ SUKUNA X READER FEAT: GOJO GENRE: FLUFF cw: modern au! implied female reader, sukuna calls your woman. not proof read. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whenever Sukuna took you out, you would make him stop for a sweet treat. It could be for the slightest thing. Groceries? Sweet treat. Getting gas? Sweet treat? 
You will use any excuse to get sweet treats. 
This time, there was no real reason to convince Sukuna that you needed a sweet treat. Only that there was a new café opening up. Taking a quick glance at what would be on their menu, you already decided that you needed to go. It had most of your favorite pastries and drinks. 
“Please, Sukuna.” You pleaded to your boyfriend with your hands clasped together. You had asked him to take you, but you knew how much he didn’t care for places like that. He didn’t like the options they provided; they always smelled so sweet. And it sometimes stuck to his clothes. 
Sukuna has already decided to go with you, though. He would do anything for you. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make it easy for you. He loved to see you like this. 
“Please, I’ll make it worth your while.” 
Sukuna smirks at your words. 
“I’ll hold you to that.” 
Your face lit up at his words, “so does that mean you’ll take me?” 
“Yeah, brat.” 
“Yay! Thank you!” You say while wrapping your arms around his ample shoulders. 
Sukuna chuckles, squeezing you tight in return. 
When the time came, Sukuna couldn’t believe he agreed to something like this. Since the place was pretty new, there were a lot of people. The theme was coquette, which Sukuna wasn’t fond of. 
Sukuna settled with matcha mochi and coffee. In contrast, you had the most sickening sweets in front of you. 
When Sukuna looks at all of it, his stomach almost churns in disgust. But when he sees you gleam at the desserts and take happy bites, it erases his dislike for the sweet treats. He would spend hours in places like this to see your happy face. 
“What’s so great about these treats anyway?” Sukuna asks you. 
You were about to answer, but someone interrupted you. Someone that neither of you wanted to see. 
“Ooh, can I have some of that?” You look up to see the bright blue-eyed man named Gojo. 
“Ugh, no get away.” You say while shoving him away. 
“Awe, come on.” He pouts at you. 
Sukuna frowns at seeing Gojo. “Get away from (y/n).” 
Gojo’s eyes flicker over to the brooding man. His arms were crossed as he glared at Gojo. 
An annoying smirk now sits on his face, “why? Scared I might take her away?” 
Sukuna’s hand slams down on the table, and your face twists disgustingly. 
“Oh my god.. You’re so embarrassing niisan.” You whisper to Gojo, but Sukuna hears it. 
The anger slowly dissipates from his body, and confusion fills his head. 
“Brother?” He mumbles. 
“What? I can’t protect my little sister?” 
While the two of you bicker, Sukuna glances back and forth. 
Gojo and you didn’t look alike. Not a single feature looked the same. Some things are similar, like the hyper personality… and the major sweet tooth. 
“Well, I got to go. Thanks.” Gojo says after taking a bite of one of your cakes. 
He gives you a smug look before waving bye. 
“Ugh,” You groan before turning to Sukuna, “I’m sorry about him.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me he was your brother?” 
You look at him in confusion, “I didn’t?” 
Sukuna gives you a look, “I think I would remember something like that.” 
“Huh, sorry. I guess it just slipped.” 
“How does something like that slip?” 
You purse your lips, “well whenever I’m not around him… I just seem to not worry about him. You know?” 
Sukuna looks at you, a bit confused, which means you will explain it further. 
“Satoru and I aren’t full siblings. Same mom but different dads. But Gojo has always been the golden child. Everything is about him. He always got everything he wanted, but me? I was lucky to even be in the same room as him.” You chuckle while shaking your head. 
“So, it’s nice not having him around. I can do whatever I want without him around.” 
Sukuna nods, “and have whatever you want as well.” 
You smile at his words, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 
Sukuna scoffs, “of course I’m right, woman.” 
You laugh and shake your head. “It wasn’t long ago that I discovered my love for sweets. I never got sweets as a child, since Satoru hogged them all.” 
Sukuna smiles at you and leans forward. He grabs a napkin, wiping some of the icing away from the corner of your lips, “that just means I’ll have to spoil you more than.” 
Your face turns pink at his words and actions. 
“I’ll hold you to that.”
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xxchumanixx · 2 days
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Hey can you make a part two of the Grey daughter part where the whole team finds out about them when she comes to drop off lunch for Grey and Tim and they starts to tease Tim about it
My Man
(sequel to 'Not just any man')
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Tim Bradford x Grey!reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, a little angst I guess? But only if you squint real hard Word count: 1.265 Authors Note: Hello love, thanks for the request! Hope you'll like it! Enjoy!
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You hated your mom sometimes.
When she asked about Tim's favorite food, you should have known something was up.
Or, rather, she was up to something.
You told her, nonetheless, being sent off with two paper bags not long after, told to bring your dad and Tim lunch.
Tim's favorite.
She did it on purpose, trying to have you show your affection for him more openly, around his colleagues. They were already having their own suspicions and rumors about you two, you just hadn't noticed, yet.
So, when you walked into the mid wilshire department, carrying two hot bags in your hands, you first made your way to your dad. He was in his office, blinds up so you could see that he was hunched over some paperwork, glasses on his nose.
Not bothering to knock, you let yourself in, his gaze lifting as he heard the door. "Honey." he greeted you, removing the glasses. "What are you doing here?"
Holding up the bags you walked over, placing one in front of him. "Mom cooked." you explained, cocking a brow. "Wanted to know what's Tim's favorite food and sent me on the way to deliver some."
His head tilted, sending you a pointed look and you sighed. "I know, I know." you murmured, arms flailing at your sides to emphasize your words. "I couldn't stop her."
He shook his head, suspiciously sniffing at the bag. His hands wrapped around it, taking a hold of the plastic container inside. "Tell your mom thank you." he told you, sending you a grateful smile and you nodded.
"Will do."
Then you turned back around, walking back out to find Tim.
Grey took another sniff of the contents in the bag, humming to himself in surprise. Whatever Bradford's favorite food was, it definitely smelled good - not that he would have admitted it out loud, though.
You asked Smitty where Tim was and he directed you into the direction of the detectives, where you spotted him.
He was looking good in his uniform, ass hugged deliciously, as you made your way straight towards him.
"Oh my god." Angela gasped, causing Nyla's gaze to follow hers. "No way." she muttered, eyes as wide as Angela's. "Isn't this Grey's daughter? Why is she- Oh!" she cut herself off, as realization hit her.
"Bradford and her are a thing!"
Tim held himself from cursing under his breath, instead sending you a smile, even though it was forced. He hadn't missed the way Lopez and Harper perked up at your arrival.
You had basically made a beeline for him, not leaving any room for imagination.
"I'm bringing you lunch." you told him, returning the smile, holding up the paper bag in your hand. "And for my dad. Mom insisted that I'd bring you some, too."
He cocked a brow, huffing slightly. "Of course she did."
You chuckled, handing him the bag. "Made your favorite." you told him, sending him a wink. His eyes closed as he inhaled deeply, chuckling as they opened again. "Of course she did." he repeated himself, looking inside the bag.
He would have been lying if he said it didn't smell good.
It smelled fucking delicious.
"I'm guessing she wants the others to know." you spoke, biting your lip. "She wants to show you off as her daughter's boyfriend or something."
One of his brows lifted again, and you shrugged your shoulders. "Don't ask me." you gave back, shaking your head with a smile. "Anyways, I just wanted to bring you the food and see you."
He smiled a smile of his own, softened around the edges. "Thank you." he said, head tilting downwards the slightest bit. "And your mother."
You nodded, suppressing the urge to kiss him. You would have plenty of time to kiss him after his shift.
"I'm gonna go, then." you told him, and he nodded. "See you later." he gave back, hesitating, as he took a step closer, voice lowering to almost a whisper. "I love you."
Grinning, you shook your head. "I love you too." Then you turned around and left, but not without looking back at him.
Lucy plopped up at Tim's side almost immediately after you left, tearing him from his dreamy state. She looked at him knowingly, biting her lip to hide the smile that was threatening to take over.
"What's that look?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed as he tilted his head at her. "Oh, nothing." she quipped, smirking up at him. "That's so sweet of her to bring you lunch. I wonder why, though."
She had to be kidding, Tim thought.
Of course, she knew why you were bringing him lunch. She just wanted to hear it out of his mouth, admit that he was dating Grey's daughter.
It wasn't that he was ashamed of you - quite the opposite, really. He would have shouted it into the open world if he could, but he didn't want anyone to think that he was just using you, or you him.
Your dad was a cop, so of course you had to find someone with a badge as well, right?
Bullshit.
He would have willingly taken it up with anyone, if they just so much as dared to think like this about you.
Before he could respond, Angela and Nyla joined them, causing Tim to groan inwardly.
He was screwed.
"What was that?" Angela wanted to know, failing to hide her grin. She was happy for him, but she also wanted to tease him a bit.
Tim rolled his eyes, mocking her grin with one of his own in pure sarcasm. "What do you mean?" he retorted, clutching the bag to his chest subconsciously.
Nyla started to laugh, sending him a pointed look. "Please." she made, brows raised. "We all know what that was. Bradford is knocking Grey's daughter."
His face grew pale at her choice of words, instinctively falling into defense mode. "I'm not knocking her or anything." he told her, voice sharp as she bit down on a grin.
Of course she didn't mean it like that, but what other way to get him to talk other than this?
Angela must have picked up on her train of thought, whilst Lucy stood by and watched the scene unfold.
"Yeah, Tim, why don't you tell us what's going on between you and mini Grey?" Angela wanted to know, tilting her head with her arms crossed over her chest.
Tim winced at the mini Grey, shaking his head as he slowly came to terms with having to tell to them. They wouldn't stop bothering him, if he didn't.
"Y/N and I are in a relationship." he announced, looking between them only to find knowing smirks. "And you all knew already. Why make me spill it then?"
Lucy chuckled, her and Angela sharing a look. "Because you're grumpy and refuse to tell us about your private life." she explained, looking up at him.
He bit his cheek, swallowing the anger flaring up. "And this is exactly why I refuse to!" he retorted, shaking his head. "Because you all are fucking teases and wouldn't leave me in peace."
Angela scoffed, still smiling though.
"We're all happy for you, Bradford." she told him, her hand brushing over his arm. "We're just noisy assbutts, that want to snoop in your private life. Don't mind us, we'll just be sitting in the back, eating popcorn."
Tim sighed, shaking his head again. "Wouldn't have expected anything different." he returned with a huff. Nyla smirked, hand on her hips.
"And that's exactly why you love us."
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Tag List
@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm
@nachofriess @augustvandyne @RookieTrek
@dhunhdchrih
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kastalani123 · 2 days
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Hey hey hey, remember how Drew (and Lacy) was mentioned as going to the same school as Sadie in The Serpent's Shadow? So it's like. Implied the two of them are a similar age, especially since they clearly interact plenty, with Sadie knowing her full name and such? I dunno about you, but I never interacted much with kids out of my age range at school, so it's basically implied they're close in age — when Sadie is thirteen (Lacy being said to be a year younger than her).
So, like. What if Drew's. Younger than Piper, actually? By like. A year or so, so she'd be fourteen, rather than the popularly accepted 16/17. I know The Lost Hero tries to say the oldest demigod at the cabin automatically becomes counselor unless challenged by someone who's been on more quests, but Annabeth was counselor at twelve, so I call bullshit and accept the demigod-that's-been-at-camp-the-longest rule as the one automatically takes the role when needed (also, there's nothing saying fourteen wouldn't be the oldest in the cabin post-war, anyways). So Drew could easily not be the oldest in the cabin, and still have to deal with suddenly being head of her family, on top of her older sister being revealed as a traitor, the grief of losing several siblings and friends, and the PTSD that comes with being a soldier.
I just think that'd be very fun for her <3
(And then just. Imagine Piper realizing that maybe she's the oldest, and her younger siblings took part in a war (that was arguably worse than the Giant War Piper was a part of), and maybe that's why Drew's a bit too much of a bitch sometimes, rather than just Girly Girls being automatically evil.)
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bosbas · 2 days
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Chapter 9: I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.0k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, colin being incredibly down bad it's insane, Penelope DOES NOT have feelings for colin in this, the bridgertons being tapped in as fuck
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
A/N: this one wrote itself basically. so enjoy! happy weekend and a big smooch
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June 6 – It seems that one Mr. Nigel Berbrooke has returned after an extended unexplained absence. He was spotted at the gentleman's club last night, though only for a very short time. This author heard that Mr. Berbrooke was asked to leave only an hour into his appearance due to a particularly aggressive threat he made toward Simon Basset. It’s safe to say that he has been uninvited from the Duke’s ball this evening, and perhaps from the rest of the social season’s events as well, depending on how lenient the Duke and Duchess of Hastings decide to be. 
However, information regarding his whereabouts for the past month is scarce, and this author lacks any reputable sources about what the man has been up to while away from London. But rest assured, dear readers, that any information I receive will be relayed through this very column.
Colin looked nervously at his reflection for what seemed like the hundredth time, adjusting his cravat ever so slightly. He sighed in frustration, accepting the fact that his appearance wouldn’t look quite right no matter what he did. 
Tonight was Daphne’s ball, and he knew for a fact that you would be in attendance. As much as he was trying to convince himself that this ball was no different, he knew it wasn’t going to be the same. Not after his talk with Anthony. There were some concerningly similar aspects between Kate and Anthony and his friendship– could he even call it a friendship? –with you, and Colin was not too hard-headed to be able to admit that. 
But he didn’t want to scare you off. As much as he liked you, he knew you were skittish after everything that happened with Lord Barlow. Besides, Colin didn’t even know if you liked him, too, or if you considered all of this as just an attempt to make you look desirable to other candidates. 
Frankly, Colin wasn’t even sure he could convince you to ever marry him. Maybe just being friends, or whatever it was the two of you had now, would suffice. Truthfully, he would take anything. 
Tonight, he just wanted a dance. And perhaps a chat, too. 
Based on the past few times Colin had spoken with you, he had concluded that you might be his favorite person in the ton to talk to. The mere thought of speaking with you tonight stirred excitement in his stomach. Every time you engaged in conversation, he found himself utterly captivated, forgetting everything else around him. What's more, you seemed genuinely interested in his what he had to say, a rarity among the ton. For the first time, he felt truly understood, and he hoped desperately that you reciprocated his sentiment. 
“You look fine,” assured Eloise. “Now can we please go? We’ll never hear the end of it from Daphne if we’re late!” 
Colin grumbled in annoyance but begrudgingly made his way to the carriage. In truth, he'd do just about anything to be near you. Even if he didn’t immediately dance with you– knowing full well you would be flocked by hordes of gentlemen wanting your hand in marriage– he still liked to simply… observe you. How your eyes crinkled shut when you laughed, the way you nervously bit your lip when someone you didn’t particularly like asked you to dance, the way you fiddled with your gloves when you were itching to get out of a conversation.
Bloody hell, Colin thought, maybe he did have feelings for you. Well, not love, that would be absurd. But certainly something more than the petty rivalry that had consumed your interactions for weeks on end. It was a sobering realization, especially after relentlessly antagonizing you for the better part of seven weeks.
He was so caught up in his thoughts about you that Colin barely noticed once the carriage had arrived at Daphne and Simon’s residence.
“Colin, darling, is anything the matter?” his mother inquired, tapping him on the arm and gently leading him toward his sister’s home.
“No, no, sorry. Everything’s alright, just got a bit distracted there,” he smiled back. 
Christ, he had to get a grip. You’d be put off immediately if you saw how he was acting now. He smoothed his coat down as he entered the ballroom, eyes immediately searching for you in the crowd.
He quickly spotted you speaking to a man he’d never seen before with Isabelle and Carlos by your side. Damn, thought. He’d have to wait to ask you to dance. 
But it was no bother. In the meantime, he attended to his duties as the most beloved Bridgerton. He sought out his sister and Simon to thank them for hosting the ball, of course, and danced with Penelope Featherington. 
Yet his focus stayed on you. He found himself glancing over to where you were every few minutes, just needing reassurance that you were still there. And also because he quite liked looking at you in general.  
Colin shook his head, bringing his attention back to Penelope. He had to remind himself to pull himself together. Even though Colin had spoken to Anthony, you had no reason to believe anything was different between you two. And it wasn’t. Everything was the same. It was only Colin who had changed. Who wanted something different, something more. 
“What’s on your mind?” asked Penelope after she noticed Colin’s drifting attention.
“Ah, nothing,” he responded dismissively. “Does Lady Montclair look particularly… subdued tonight, do you think?”
“Y/N?” Penelope clarified, looking over at where you were standing next to Louis. 
“Oh heavens, don’t look now!” Colin whispered, panicked. “She’ll see us both looking and know we were talking about her.”
Penelope laughed in disbelief. “Could it be? That my dear friend Colin Bridgerton is finally falling for someone? Have you truly found roots in England? Is that why you’ve stayed for so long this season?”
Colin could only smile bashfully. She had never seen him quite like this. And though it was unusual, it was fairly endearing to see him so flustered over a girl.
“Well, go talk to her, then. What are you doing dancing with me?”
“Penelope, I dance with you at every ball. I can go speak with her after. And don’t tell anyone! I’m not even sure if she likes me.”
“Very well then,” relented Penelope, but Colin did not miss the knowing smile she sent him.
After the dance concluded, Colin chatted with his brothers for a few minutes before making his way over to you and Louis, wanting to avoid seeming overly eager. But once he started walking toward you, your head shot up, as if you could tell that he was getting nearer. 
Your eyes met for a split second, but you immediately turned your head away, choosing instead to look at your gloved hands, which were fidgeting nervously. Colin frowned in confusion at your reaction, but continued walking, thinking that perhaps you had seen someone else behind him. 
As he reached your side, he saw you chewing anxiously on your lip and his frown deepened. But he pushed through. This was what he wanted, after all. You were what he wanted. 
“Lady Montclair,” he bowed. “Would you care for a dance tonight?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his lips as he reached for the dance card on your wrist.
But you pulled your hand away abruptly, refusing to meet his eyes. “No, thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” was your curt response. 
Colin’s confusion morphed into frustration. What was the matter with you?
“That’s alright, I understand if you want to save space on your dance card for more…serious suitors,” he cringed as he heard himself speak. But at the end of the day, he was well aware that you were looking for a titled gentleman to be your husband. “We could take a turn about the ballroom and chat for a bit,” he offered, looking at you hopefully once again.
You finally met his eyes, and he could tell you were searching for something as you looked at him, a pained look on your face.
“No, thank you,” you repeated firmly, an edge to your voice. 
Colin rolled his eyes. This was so typical of you. You let him in for about three seconds and then went back to keeping him at arm’s length for whatever unknown reason.
“Are we really back to doing this?” asked Colin, exasperated. “I thought we were friends, at the very least.”
Your spine was suddenly rigid, and a fury ignited in your eyes. “We were never friends, Mr. Bridgerton,” you ground out. “You were simply doing Eloise a favor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone else I must dance with.”
Your voice was cold and uncaring, and Colin was slapped with a reminder of how things used to be as you sidestepped him to go toward the other side of the ballroom. 
Three steps into your journey, it was clear that there wasn’t actually anyone waiting to dance with you, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you were so desperate to get away. Even at the peak of your hatred toward him, you were always open to verbally sparring. 
Colin turned around to Louis, shooting him a questioning look. But your brother could only shrug. Who knew what went on in the depths of your brain? Louis had noticed you had been slightly on edge ever since you returned from Hyde Park with your sisters yesterday afternoon, but he wasn’t expecting you to be this hostile, especially after getting along so well with Colin.
Feeling his desire to speak with you outweigh his pride, Colin turned back and grabbed your hand, turning you to face him. “If what you want is to go back to arguing, I’m happy to do that,” he said, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of going back to how things were.
He sounded positively pathetic. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping this fragile dynamic alive, keeping you near him. If Anthony and Kate could do it, couldn’t the two of you?
You seemed on the brink of tears, but your voice held an unspeakable fury. “What I want is for you to leave. Me. Alone,” you emphasized each word with a pointed jab at his chest. “Please,” you whispered, your voice faltering. “I do not wish to dance with you, or to chat with you, or even to be near you at all. Good night.”
With that, you pivoted away, heading towards the refreshment table, tears welling in your eyes. And Colin was left standing there, hand lingering over the spot on his chest you had prodded.
He felt a familiar anger rising through him. It didn’t matter that you were the only person in the world who understood him. It didn’t matter that you were completely beautiful and incredibly smart, either. And it certainly didn’t matter that he’d fallen for you. Because you still hated him. And he was a fool to ever think things could be different.
Colin was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he watched you smile and greet some gentleman or other. He flinched as he saw the man kiss the back of your hand, and watched, seething, as he led you to the dance floor. 
Deciding he needed something stronger than lemonade, Colin turned around and grabbed a glass of champagne, downing it in one go. He couldn’t believe you didn’t think he was your friend. What the hell else could you call it?
He spotted Eloise and Penelope chatting close by and stomped over to them. He was sure he looked like Gregory after a fight with Hyacinth, pouting with his arms crossed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 
“I thought you were going to talk to Y/N,” said Penelope, confused to see him back so soon. 
Colin shot her a murderous look. “She wants nothing to do with me, apparently. She said the only reason I talked to her was out of a favor to Eloise.”
Eloise coughed awkwardly. “Well, didn’t you?”
“No!” shot back Colin defensively. “Not entirely, at least. I don’t know. I need to leave.” 
You were still dancing with the unnamed man, and Colin was very much still seething as he watched the pair of you twirl around and smile at one another. 
Usually, it was frustrating to watch you dance with other people because you were never like that with him. But this well and truly hurt. It hurt to see you like this when he knew, now for a fact, that he could never have that with you again. 
“I need to leave,” he repeated. He couldn’t bear to watch you do this all night.
Snatching another glass of champagne and downing that one, too, he bid his goodbyes to Penelope and Eloise and made his way across the ballroom to the exit.
“Are you leaving already, darling? You’ve barely been here an hour,” Colin heard next to him as a hand reached out for his elbow. 
Turning around, he faced his mother, who looked like she was in the middle of a conversation with Anthony and Benedict. 
Colin nodded. “I’m sorry, mother. I just can’t. I can’t stay,” he responded, voice breaking as he glanced back toward you again. 
Seeing you lean to whisper something in your suitor’s ear, he slumped forward, practically feeling physical pain at the sight. 
“I must go,” Colin said firmly, giving his mother a quick squeeze and rushing to the door. 
Violet nodded, bewildered, and followed where Colin’s gaze had been. Finding you dancing with Lord Norcliffe, Violet sent a knowing look to Benedict and Anthony. 
“I suppose Hyacinth was right,” she said sympathetically.
“And don’t you dare tell her! It’ll get to her head,” responded Benedict. 
---
“The Bridgertons will be in attendance tonight,” your mother informed you carefully as you sat in the carriage on the way to yet another ball. 
“And by the Bridgertons you mean…”
“She means Colin, yes,” answered Jacques, earning a stifled laugh from his wife, Chiara. 
Ever since they’d been back and learned of your intense hatred for Colin, Jacques had not been able to stop making a mockery of it. Usually, you were quite agreeable, and it was rare that you found yourself at odds with someone who wasn’t your sibling, so this seemingly unprompted hatred was quite amusing to your brother. 
You groaned and glared at him. “No one asked you to come tonight, you know. In fact, no one asked you to come to England at all! You could have stayed in Tuscany, and I would have been much happier.”
“Ah, but then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to tease you about this,” answered Jacques, completely unbothered by your biting tone. 
“Whatever,” you grumbled in response, only slightly comforted by Chiara’s apologetic smile as she softly scolded her husband.
It had been four days since your run-in with Nigel, and three since you saw Colin at Daphne’s ball, and the thought of seeing him again made you feel sick. It was already bad enough that he was disgusting and had no respect for you, but it was made infinitely worse by the fact that you had let yourself grow to care for him. In a friendly way, of course. You could never have married him, anyway. But it was still embarrassing that you fell into his charming trap and thought that you could become something more than a conquest for him.
“Be nice,” your mother whispered in warning as you approached the Bridgertons. 
You shrugged her off, not needing a reminder. You had been brought up to be the perfect lady. You weren’t about to forget yourself now. You refused to give Colin that power. 
You greeted the family warmly until you got to Colin. “Mr. Bridgerton,” you said, giving him a curt nod.
Not waiting for a response, you moved to stand away from him as you looked out at the crowd. Perhaps you would find a gentleman who was actually enjoyable to talk to, though your chances seemed slim. 
Colin shifted uncomfortably on his feet, watching you intently. It seemed that your behavior at Daphne’s ball hadn’t been a fluke, after all. He ground his teeth in annoyance, growing increasingly irritated by the fact that you were just standing there.
Why weren’t you doing anything? It was infuriating. Perhaps it would have been less infuriating if it were anyone else, but it seemed like anything you did was particularly vexing to him.
Making his way over to you, he stopped beside you. Wanting to slip back into the comfort of your tumultuous dynamic, Colin took a shot at your attire. “I see the modiste-”
“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking, barely above a whisper, and your gaze locked ahead of you. 
Colin was taken aback. You had never, in all the time that he had known you, backed down from an argument. It seemed that you just… didn’t want him around at all. You hated him enough that you didn’t want to be near him. And in any way that mattered, it was worse than when you were antagonizing him.
“I’m sorry,” Colin said desperately. “I didn’t mean- Look, can we please talk? Just quickly, I just want-”
But you didn’t even let him finish. “There’s nothing to say.”
Colin scoffed, a futile attempt to hide how hurt he was really feeling. “What do you mean there isn’t anything to say? I have things to say, at least. Just talk to me.”
You finally turned to face him, feeling your stomach drop as you looked at his desperate eyes searching yours for an answer. 
“Let me rephrase. I do not wish to speak with you, in any capacity, now or any time in the future. I do not care to hear what you have to say, Mr. Bridgerton, and I would appreciate it if you could respect that, though I know that’s not usually in your nature.”
Colin could only sputter, staring at you in disbelief as you walked away. He felt his stomach turn uncomfortably as you reached a man he didn’t know, but whom you’d danced with at Daphne’s Ball. 
He had to have done something wrong. Colin hadn’t the slightest clue what, but you obviously had something against him, and it clearly wasn’t just you being silly. 
He swore under his breath. You were impossible. Not even Eloise knew why you hated him! How on earth was he supposed to know how to fix this when you refused to speak with him? It was almost easier when all you did was hurl insults at him and step on his feet as he poured lemonade down your dress.
Over on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Colin, mentally scolding yourself every time you did. This was not how you were supposed to be acting toward the man who had jumped at the first opportunity to compromise you.
The only reason you were dancing with Lord Norcliffe now was because he had not arrived in London until after your whole debacle with Lord Barlow. You supposed he could have heard what happened from someone else, but he was safer than the rest of the men of the ton, you thought grimly. It would’ve helped if he was interesting to talk to, or even nice to look at, but you supposed you couldn’t be very selective.
Curtsying and thanking Lord Norcliffe for the dance, you made a beeline toward Carlos and Philippe across the room. 
“You look like you don’t want to be here,” commented your brother, amused. 
You rolled your eyes at him. “Astute observation, Philippe.”
Carlos laughed and gave you a comforting pat on the head. “But what happened to your season in England? I thought you were excited to be here?”
“My mother and father were certainly excited,” you mused, taking Philippe’s lemonade and drinking from it. 
Seeing their confused looks, you briefly explained your encounter with Nigel Berbrooke, and they suddenly became very concerned. 
“Ce connard! Il est où? Je vai le tuer,” growled Philippe under his breath, not wanting the rest of the ton to hear his threat (That asshole! Where is he? I’m going to kill him).
“Philippe, it’s alright,” you assured him, glancing over at Carlos and seeing that he, too, had understood your brother’s words despite not speaking French. “I believe Simon Basset took care of him at White’s a few days ago.”
“That’s just as well, or I’d have done it myself,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“You can just come to Spain next year, cariño,” Carlos said warmly.
You smiled up at your brother-in-law, silently thanking him for the offer even though you knew your parents would never allow it. 
Colin watched enviously as you had a conversation with your older brother and your older sister’s husband. He wished he could talk to you again. Even if nothing got resolved between you, he liked to hear your voice. He loved how stubborn you were and how frustrated you got when you forgot the English word for something. He just missed you, he supposed. 
Which is why, as Colin watched yet another man approach you and write their name on your dance card, he decided he couldn’t do this anymore. The watching, the waiting, the wanting. He couldn’t do any of it anymore. 
“I need to leave,” he said firmly.
Daphne, who had been standing beside him, turned to face him, startled. “Leave where?”
“India, Egypt, Morocco, back to Greece. I don’t care. I just need to get out of here.”
“What? Why?” asked Daphne, still confused. 
“You know why,” Colin responded flatly, giving her an unimpressed look. 
Daphne instinctively turned to look at you, laughing as the man you were dancing with whispered something to you. She turned to look back at her brother with a disappointed look.
“I can’t imagine leaving would be the best option.” 
“Why not?” Colin shot back. “What good can my presence possibly do?”
Daphne put a hand on her brother’s elbow, giving him a sympathetic look. However, her voice was firm. “You always leave when it gets hard, you know? You’re always the first out the door and onto a different continent. Why are you so scared of staying?”
Colin was stunned. He didn’t know his motives were that obvious. But he supposed it made sense for Daphne to know since she knew him better than most people.  
“I’m not scared of staying,” Colin insisted defensively. “I just think it’ll be better for everyone if I go.”
Daphne furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “And do what? What could you possibly be doing that is so important that you would abandon the woman you love?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Colin argued, his voice growing strained as he felt his chest getting tighter. “None of it matters. She doesn’t love me back. I could be down the street or in Brazil and she wouldn’t even notice. She clearly hates me and wants nothing to do with me, so why should I stay?”
Daphne crossed her arms, looking more than a little disappointed. “Well, I won’t be the one to stop you if you decide to go. But really think about whether you want to be the person who leaves time and again. Things could change. It's only been a few days since she's been like this.”
She had a point, but Colin was too upset to admit it. Daphne was right. He couldn’t just leave now. If anything, it would hurt him more than being near you with you not speaking to him. It was the strangest feeling, knowing you loved someone but feeling powerless to do anything about it. 
Colin knew he couldn’t continue like this. Perhaps he couldn’t leave, but he could certainly stay as far away as possible. 
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thydungeongal · 2 days
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I have seen several posts about your dislike for D&D and I wanna know if it's the same for Pathfinder? I love pathfinder but in my eyes it's just a crunchier D&D. (Though admittedly the "canon" worlds for Pathfinder are far more interesting to me)
Obviously that's a very baseline view of the two but I wondered if it's possible to like one and not the other due to their similarities.
P.S. I hope you've had a good week!
Truth be told, I don't dislike D&D! I dislike people treating it as a universal game when it's a very specific type of game! Note: what that specific type of game is also depends heavily on edition! But regardless, D&D will end up sucking big time if you don't play to its strengths!
Now, my opinion on Pathfinder is basically that Pathfinder 1e leaned in on some of the worst designs of D&D 3.5 (a quirky game that still had a lot to love about it): towards the tail end of D&D 3.5 its designers were at the same time getting really nutty with the design and coming up with some really inventive designs (Binders, Tome of Battle, a lot of individual systems in Complete Champion and Complete Scoundrel) but at the same time they were running out of ideas and they came up with the Worst Type of Feats: feats that made a thing that anyone could theoretically do into a thing now gated behind a feat. Player's Handbook 2 for D&D 3.5 had a few of these.
And Pathfinder 1e for some reason decided to really lean in on this type of feat. I will never shut up about the feat that allows gnomes to request their captors to loosen their shackles.
Now Pathfinder 2e is a much better game in my opinion because it seems to have largely rejected that type of design and focused on being a really crunchy D&D clone. It feels like a better successor to D&D 3.5's design ethos instead of Pathfinder 1e, that was ultimately a collection of D&D 3.5 house rules (some of which imo made the game worse than D&D 3.5!) coupled with following some of the worst design trends of D&D 3.5.
Also I refuse to ever shut up about Pathfinder 1e literally having feats that didn't do anything like Monkey Lunge and Prone Shooter. But anyway Pathfinder 2e actually looks like a fun albeit crunchy game instead of just being D&D 3.5 but somehow blander and with worse rules-writing. (now of course D&D 3.5 also kind of sucked in its own ways, but it kind of sucked in a "hey these example characters don't actually qualify for the Prestige Class they're supposed to be representing" type of way instead of a "our FAQ accidentally made it so you could qualify for the Eldritch Knight Prestige Class simply by virtue of being a Tiefling" type of way)
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