This Is Fuggler#1 The Fuggler. He Is A Fuggler

Headcanon #2: Elias Bouchard does not find things 'delicious'. If he ever describes something as delicious, he means it in a mocking, ironic way. The only word he uses to describe something tasty is 'delectable', which rarely refers to food and if he ever used that word, it means he finds something pretty fucking delectable.

Lost At Sea

Here I lie, lost at sea,

dazed and lame as I can be.

The sky above is dark

as is the water below me.

How I got here, I scarcely remember—

when I boarded, when I left the pier.

The time as well, I could not decipher—

September, October, or November.

Alone in this vastness,

silence embraces me—

the great stretch of the universe and the sea

do all but eclipse me.

At times I start to wonder

what if instead of wander,

I let the waves take me—

pull me in and consume me.

I close my eyes and picture

my delicate arms and legs,

spread restful as they please,

sink into the cold water.

Visions of the starry sky peek through,

strings of faint light probing in the blue.

The stars shimmer above the mirrory surface,

far and out of reach, they peer with indifference.

But then I pull myself out

of my ruminative bout;

the spirit of life taking reins

to brave my impermanent pains.

My boat is a drifting speck,

a mote between infinite black;

so here I lie, lost at sea,

alone and numbed as I can be.

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Inspired by and written for the prompt "Cold water". Prompt credit to @the-kingofdoritos

Canon

Michael Shelley's hair puffs up a little like a ghibli movie when he's angry

Woah 😳

It's the Legendary Milkman!!!

I got curious and looked up the game because of him. Ran into him on my third run. Turned out to be a doppelganger though :(

Okay, context: This is just a little scene I typed out in the middle of the night recently for a fanfiction (which isn't really one, it only exists in my head in the form of a bunch of different scenes and some backstory). It's for the manga and anime series Vinland Saga and is a Thorfinn x oc/reader fic. That's all that I wanna say for now, I'll probably reblog this to really get into the nitty gritty of this fic (like giving the actual context of the story). I just really wanted to share this one because I can't get it out of my mind so I gotta. Anyway, enough of me yapping, enjoy.

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The moon hung low in a star studded sea of darkness, shining down on the land. The deep blue river surged on, seeming to carry a thousand shimmering stars in its bosom along its path; to flow for miles before joining at a greater vastness eventually. The glowworms didn't come out that night, painting the two familiars in just the light of the world above. They were staring at the waters in silence, both lost in thought. Erik's fingers subconsciously found their way to her hair when the strain of its bounds started to get a little painful and released them, letting her hair cascade down her shoulders, curled and tangled. A faint sigh left her at the relief to her scalp. She saw a faint outline of her face in the water, watching her locks cup her face but couldn't tell much besides due to the meagre light. She brushed through them with her hand, taming them a bit before her eyes naturally went to Thorfinn, finding his gaze already on her.

They were sitting pretty close to keep warm but the distance hadn't meant much until now, when it felt miniscule yet immense at the same time. Erik's stare wandered from Thorfinn's eyes but not far, finding home in his face still, running over his features— his nose, his brows, his hair, his temples, his cheeks, his ears, his jaw, his chin, his lips; she thoroughly traced it all with her eyes, reading each shape, each rise, each dip, each scar. In its totality, his face looked dreamy, like a haze was pulled over it. Or perhaps it was her who was in a haze, finding contentment in simply gazing at him. It was about time she said something, she was aware of that but words struggled to take form in her head, let alone break free from the confines of her mouth.

"You look beautiful." Finally, he spoke. His voice was gentle, not rising above the gushing water in front of them as a rule. Their eyes reunited and for a second, he stumbled, eyes wide as if he surprised himself with his own words but soon, he collected himself. That was his nature after all. He always knew what to say and each word that left those perfectly shaped lips of his was like the mead of poetry for which she would be down to trickery just to get a taste of.

"It... suits you... this way."

The tug on the corners of her lips grew stronger, a fluttering in her chest made her take in a deep breath; the chill, fresh smells of grass and damp soil filled her chest. Her gaze grew softer and that was answer enough for him. 'Thank you', her smile told him. She wondered what he was thinking, his honey-brown eyes refusing to leave her. What she had in mind was crystal clear though. 'I love you', that was all. She wished she could say it. She probably could but she knew neither of them wanted to break the fragile, sanctious tranquility between them.

For that reason, he let his actions speak, extending a hand and delicately caressing her cheek with his knuckles. In harmony, she closed her eyes, feeling every inch of his hand. If she could somehow collect this feeling of his warm, scarred skin on her face, make an ocean out of it and slowly drown in it for eternity, she gladly would. His hand brushed along her shadowy locks and she ached to look at him again. He had moved— no, he was moving, just so slow that it was barely noticeable.

Their eyes were set on each other, locked in place. As he neared her, she could see his eyes more clearly. Shining in the moonlight, they held not only the colour but also the effects of the most divine mead to ever make her drunk. And from the core of those wells grew his pupils ever wider, a darkness that beckoned her to get closer as well. And she did, hypnotised, leaning closer both to his palm that cupped her cheek now, and his bewitching face. His lips were parted ever so slightly which she replicated. Her eyelids grew heavier, fluttering half way down. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, almost as if to make sure this was real. He lifted his chin and tilted his head to the right and his breath tickled her cheek so intoxicatingly, her eyes couldn't stand to remain open. And if she wasn't dying to feel his lips, she would probably fall back and swoon right there.

He didn't drag her anticipation. His lips connected with hers, feather-light and softer than clouds. That alone was enough to leave her breathless— head feeling light and heart soaring. She wanted to say his name, over and over again until her breath ran out, like it was the chant of Gods, an elixir to the parched lips of a lone traveller. She didn't. Solely because she couldn't with the way his lips blanketed hers, moving in a drawn out way. He was making his point, showing her he meant what he said and more. Erik returned the affection, kissing him with all the softness and all the love she had in herself. Her hand went to hold his free one that rested on his lap, lacing her fingers with his.

Their kiss deepened slightly, the yearning that was in the back of both of their minds taking reins. Her brows drew close. Her heart was crying out, her throat hurt from keeping all the emotion down, the only outlet being her lips which did their best to convey all that they could. Soothingly, Thorfinn brushed his thumb over her warm skin again. He understood, she could tell. Because he felt it too. All those years spent away from each other crumbled and turned to dust before them; disappeared, never to separate them again. Nothing ever could, not anymore. For their hearts would always show the way to the other. Even if the heavens were to rip them apart, even if they were stranded on opposite sides of the world, they would find a way back.

'I love you', her heart whispered yet again and he listened. And he said it back, all in the simple motion of the kiss.

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Just wanna add that I've written more after this but am debating whether or not to put that up as well. I'll probably let it marinate in my notes for a while and post it anyway idk

Sometimes I look at my writing and go "AI could never."

"Books are like seeds, they can lie dormant for centuries but they may also produce flowers in the most unpromising soil."

- Carl Sagan

Focus on the show man