#I WILL NEVER BE NORMAL AGAIN AND THANK GOD FOR THAT

[bybobbysbeard]

Arrivals

Day 8 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: surprise read on ao3 read other days here

Buck smells like an airport. He couldn’t accurately describe what that smell entails, but he knows he stinks of it. He’s exhausted, his feet hurt, and his bad leg is swollen from the pressure changes. He wants to take his sneakers off, drink a massive glass of icy-cold water, and fall into bed; in that order. 

But no matter how crappy he feels, he won’t let a single word of complaint pass his lips. Any discomfort he’s experiencing has to be dwarfed by what Maddie’s going through. She just did the same amount of traveling as him, and she's six months pregnant. Thank God they were only in Pennsylvania for the weekend. His Mom’s retirement party went well, Buck didn’t make a fool of himself, and Maddie was glowing. But being with his parents was as exhausting as ever. 

And that’s not including the fact that they still have no idea how to deal with Buck dating a man. 

They have never cared about anyone he’s dated before, as long as he wasn’t embarrassing them or getting a girl pregnant. And then they saw him with Tommy at Maddie’s wedding. They didn’t say anything, but Buck could feel his Mom’s eyes on him the whole time. Even as he escorted a half-asleep Tommy to his Jeep, they only waved half-heartedly. He assumed they had decided it was a phase, and didn’t need to introduce themselves. 

When he told them on Friday that Tommy was on special deployment, or he would have brought him along, his mom stuttered over three different sentence starts. She finally ended up with, “I didn’t realize you were still with him.”

Before Buck could think better of it, he said, “Technically, I’m with him again.” That had kicked off a barebones explanation of their break-up and reconciliation, which his parents had not reacted well to. 

The rest of the weekend continued in the same tone.  

The pointed, leading questions, which he pretended to misunderstand. The insinuations that he didn’t know his own mind, which he ignored. The blatant aspersions against Tommy, blaming him for confusing Evan and leading him on. Those he addressed immediately, and at one point, it would have devolved into a shouting match, if not for Maddie. 

Suffice to say, he’s happy to be back in Los Angeles, even if he still has an hour long Uber ride ahead of him. Normally, he knows his family would be tripping over themselves to pick them up from the airport, but Chimney is home with a still-sick-but-recovering Jee, and the rest of the 118 is on shift. Most disappointingly, Tommy’s still fighting the wildfires up north, piloting water bombers for another week and a half.

Buck will be going home to an empty loft. 

The baggage carousel comes into view, so Buck parks Maddie by a nearby column and goes to wait for their bags. She’s digging her cell out as he turns away. He checks his own phone, finds ‘welcome home’ messages from the group chat, but nothing from Tommy. He’s probably in the air. Or sleeping. Eventually, a familiar navy bag and maroon suitcase come into view. His duffle gets slung over a shoulder and he leads Maddie’s wheeling suitcase over. They head towards Arrivals without any words exchanged. Maddie’s walking slowly, obviously tired, breath puffing out of her mouth as she rests one hand low on her belly. Buck wraps an arm around her shoulders and she leans into him. 

“I wish Chimney and Jee could have come with us. He’s so good with Mom and Dad, and Jee is so distracting.” She sighs. “I’m sorry again. About what they were saying. I wish they would just be happy for you.”

“It’s alright Mads, I wasn’t about to let you fly to Hershey all alone. I can deal with them for a weekend.”

She lapses into silence again. They turn another corner and step onto an escalator, finally descending to ground level. The Arrivals area is a wider section of the terminal, an open space, right by the main exit. Floor to ceiling windows let in the setting sun. There’s people all around, reunions between travelers and their families happening in a hundred different languages, a hundred different cultures. Buck steers them through the crowd, hearing the laughter and tears in the voices surrounding them. There’s a line of people by the doors, holding signs. Sunbeams edge everyone in gold.

One of the signs says “Buckley.”

Wait, what? His eyes jerk from the sign to the man holding it. 

Holy shit. It’s Tommy. How?!

Buck stops dead. Their eyes meet. He knows his mouth is hanging open. Tommy’s smiling widely, almost laughing at the dumbfounded expression that Buck knows he’s sporting. His face crinkles adorably with the force of his joy. His eyes are sparkling. 

The arm Buck has around Maddie’s shoulder jerks her to a stop too. People continue to stream around them. She darts a look at his face, bursting into laughter and following his gaze to Tommy. She waves, still giggling. Tommy’s already striding over, eating up the distance between them until he's close enough to touch.

Two big hands settle on his cheeks, pinkies applying the smallest pressure to his jaw. His teeth clack together when he finally remembers to shut his mouth. A chaste, gentle kiss is pressed to his lips.

“Hi baby. Welcome home.”

Stupidly, all Buck can think to say is, “you’re supposed to be in Oregon.”

Tommy chuckles. “I was, but the Canadians showed up early, so they sent us home.” His hands drop down to wrap around Buck’s. Their fingers intertwine without Buck’s input. “Surprised?”

Buck nods. He recognizes he’s staring, like Tommy is a hallucination that might disappear at any second, but it's been nearly three weeks since he’s seen his boyfriend. He’s just had a shitty weekend in his hometown, playing the part of a dutiful son to strangers, while worrying about his sister and his unborn nibling, and dealing with the casual disregard he’s come to expect from his parents. Only this time, there was a nice heaping tablespoon of biphobia sprinkled on top. He needs a minute.

Maddie lays a hand on both of their elbows. “Good timing Tommy, I was worried we were going to beat you to the exit.”

Buck whips his head around to stare at her. “You knew!”

She giggles again. He spins back to Tommy. He’s flushed from laughter, radiant in the early evening light. Buck’s gaze darts over his face. His blue eyes, his crow’s feet, his perfect teeth. The cleft. He’s beautiful, and he’s here for Buck. 

It feels like his brain finally comes back online. Tommy’s here. For Buck.

Buck lunges forward, driving a little oomph out of Tommy and wrapping his arms around him tightly. He squeezes and lifts, hoisting Tommy a few inches into the air, making him flail and squeak out an undignified noise. Maddie snorts, bending at the waist, helpless with mirth. Tommy’s hands land on his shoulders, fingertips digging into the muscle, little spots of warm pressure. 

“Evan! Put me down, oh my God. I missed you too!”

[interact-if]

Black History Month Author Spotlight: Lapin

To kickstart the Black History Month Author Spotlight series, I'd like to introduce everyone to our first IF author, Lapin (@harlequinoccult)!

(I had a ton of fun reading Lapin’s answers, and I’m sure you will too! Read on for a celebration of ‘weird,’ Lapin’s Black southern gothic / horror influences, and how a D&D game could lead to interactive fiction!

Lapin, thank you again for your candid, humorous responses, I am very honored to have gotten to know you better :D)

Author: Lapin

Black creole and cajun, artist and writer, and wannabe game developer

Games: Slaughter Squad (Horror, Slasher, Romance)

Synopsis: YOU HAVE A HUNGER A HUNGER THAT YOU’VE BEEN NEGLECTING For the most part, you’re a pretty normal mid-20-something year old who lives in a shitty apartment in the city. Well, except for one thing. Your.....”Associate” Carter “Dollface” Abernathy. Who is a murderer, and quite frankly, a sloppy one at that. And you’re the accessory to his crimes. No matter what way you’ve gotten to know the man, or how you feel about him, you’re stuck with him, and stuck with just being his little “helper” ........Or are you? Especially when you’re suddenly given a....Unique opportunity.

Games: The Valley of Luck (Fantasy, Adventure, Romance)

Synopsis: The Valley of Luck was said to be a myth. Something that grandparents would tell their grand-kids around a campfire. Even those who worshiped Lucian, The God of Luck, thought it nothing but an old wives tale. Until, one day, a man with an arm made of solid gold started telling people that he'd been there, that he'd seen the Valley. Word spread quickly, and suddenly, every continent was alight with the rumor that The Valley was real, that it could give you all the riches you could ever want, and then some. However, your quest, whether related to The Valley or not, will lead you down a much stranger path.

Quote from the interview:

My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household… Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. … I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs….I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.

Read on for the full interview!

Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?

Both parts of my family are 100% from Louisiana, New Orleans and the deep south. My moms side have been there so long, we have two streets named after us.

Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

My main project, of course, is Slaughter Squad. I love slasher movies and horror media in general. But what I always noticed with horror/romance, at least in the visual novel scene, is that the main character is nearly always the one getting screwed over, so I thought, well, what if the bad guys actually are your peers? How would this dynamic change if they don't see you as prey? I never thought that premise would appeal so much to so many but hey, I can't complain! I adore seeing people having fun with the silly little concept I had.

Now, my secondary project, The Valley of Luck. Some may not know this, but this story is based off of a D&D campaign I DM'ed back in the day with my friends. All the ROs are NPCs that my friends had, or where going to encounter. I won't lie, I did shy away from it and changed some things when the whole debacle with Wizards of the coast (the company that "owns" D&D) Where making some...questionable decisions. But this story is my baby. My first born. This one has been in the works far longer than SLSQ and has a lot of background lore that I hope I get the opportunity to share.

I do have a few other projects bumping around, One I am particularly excited for, But that one will have to wait a little bit~

How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?

My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household. I never felt that I truly had a sense of identity until that household inevitably split up. Everyone talks about being the weird kid in middle school, but no one mentions being the "normal on the outside but wants to be the weird kid so bad its painful on the inside but can't because you were told that stuff is 'white people shit' " type of kid.

Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. I was a little shitter on the internet, I can't lie about that, as much as I want to. But I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs....I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.

What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?

Let your characters speak through you like you're being possessed by a demon.

What’s the one thing you’re really proud of that you’ve written so far? Do you have a favorite character or scene that you’ve written?

I am so serious.

is it wildly inconvenient? yes. does it help your writing a ton? also yes. Doing Roleplay with friends is a fantastic way to learn to do this. being a DM for a D&D game has basically made it so characters can simply speak from my brain at any given moment. It's also annoying because some of these people do NOT shut up. Learning how a character would react on the fly does wonders for dialogue writing and character analysis. Roleplay with your friends, or hell, strangers who are down to clown that could become friends. Be cringe. be free.

I love the opening to Slaughter Squad and if you told me to rewrite it with a gun to my head I would tell you to shoot me. I love how punchy it is and it came out exactly how I wanted it to. I don't play favorites with characters (<- lying) but my two favorites to write are the stinky little bastard cat Sterling in TVoL and.....Carter, from SLSQ. I love writing complete bastards. One being lighthearted and gets a pass for it because he's just a kitty cat and the other you want to actively beat his face in with your bare hands. It's SO funny.

If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?

Write. Write it now. Doesn't have to be good doesn't have to be polish all that matters is that you WROTE IT. All the bells and whistles can come later!!!! Stop thinking about the later and think about the now!!!! Write what you love and never give two shits about if it's cringe!!! Be excellent to each other!!!

Any books, music, movies etc. you’re obsessed with at the moment, or which changed your life (or perspectives on something)?

GO LISTEN TO CHROMAKOPIA BY TYLER THE CREATOR RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!

This-or-that segment: (bold = Lapin’s pick)

Coffee or tea?

Early mornings or late nights?

City or countryside?

Angsty or Cozy romances? (Or enemies-to-lovers or best-friends-to-lovers?)  

Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?

Summer or Winter?

First drafts or editing?

Introvert or extrovert?

Plotter or pantser?

Characters or plot first?

Lapin’s custom “this-or-that” pairing: Rain or Shine

More on Black Southern Gothic:

Black southern gothic can vary a lot, but when I think of it, I think of old semi abandoned wood shotgun houses in the swamp, all white tiny baptist churches where the white paint is peeling from the heat and humidity, riding horses down a dirt paved street while people still ride by in their old busted down 1960s chevys. Old plantation houses that have been reclaimed by the swamp. The dark, humid heat of the night on a street with no streetlights. Every house you see is absolutely haunted by something and not just ghosts. Voodoo and hoodoo is different than what people will tell you it is.

Sassafrass, Cypress and Indigo by Ntozake Shange, Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jessamin Ward, and anything by Toni Morrison 100%.

[bones4thecats]

Hello, can do resquest, Poseidon, Hades, Loki and Thor x Valkyrie reader, who is the mother of all Valkyries, This is what it looks like, https://es.pinterest.com/pin/890657263798502008/

❥· Nurture vs. Nature, Multi-RoR × F! S/O

Characters: Poseidon (🔱), Hades (💀), Loki (🐍), and Thor (🌩️) A/N: This is another favorite of mine. I love this thing so much, and I hope you like it as well, @zinnia1506! ✎ Summary: After the loss of your adoptive son, Zerofuku, you made your thirteen daughters, whom were named after your title of the 13 Valkyrie Sisters. But, after the setting of Ragnarok, your relationship molds over with hatred with your oldest.

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Looking at the sky with an empty expression, you took each breath in slowly. You felt empty, incomplete, someone would say. But, in reality, you felt normal. This was your normal.

Each cloud moved by with each passing second. While other Gods and Goddesses would see this as useless, this was the only thing you wanted to do for your pass-time. It was quiet, peaceful.

Small footsteps behind you made your eyes open, there, standing behind you, was the young God you were in charge of watching. "Zero. Do show me, how would you draw that flower?" You asked. The young, child-like god, smiled and grabbed some nearby flowers, using them like crayons on the paper you summoned for him.

"This is how you do it, Lady Valkyrie!" He joyfully said. You watched as he used the flowers to color the pink petals, before searching for a green item for the stem and leaves. As he ran around, your eyes shimmered. For some reason, being around Zerofuku made your life feel more welcoming, open even.

Before you knew it, Zerofuku handed you the paper. You took it in your hands gently and looked over his work. Every detail was there, which surprised you. The way he highlighted the sun's rays hitting the petals to the shadows cast in opposition made your eyes widen slightly.

You breathed out and smiled gently, though it was covered by your mask. Zeroufku felt your mood lighten and he began to shake in happiness himself. "Do you like it?" He asked. "Of course. You did a wondrous job on it, child."

"Thank you!" He replied. "Would you like it back? I'm sure it would be a lovely addition in your home." You said. Zerofuku looked at you and shook his head, pushing the drawing back into your chest. "No. Go ahead and keep it! Besides, you seem to like it more than I do!"

That was when you knew it. You wanted to feel this all the time. So, you began babysitting Zerofuku more and more. But, you regretted the one day you didn't. That was the day he went to Earth and never returned.

Tears fell from your eyes as you sobbed at the same spot as you were that day. You never wanted this feeling again... you needed to find a way around this...

-

🔱 You looked at the aquatic animals swimming around. The blow-fish looked at your finger, following it as you lightly drug it across the glass keeping you separated. Poseidon observed you from behind, his trident on the ground as you observed the fish.

🔱 Poseidon sighed internally and walked up to you, and, once you heard the sound of his weapon, your branch-shaped hair moved slightly, much like the ears of an animal. You turned around and looked into the blue eyes of your husband.

🔱 "What did Zeus do this time?" You asked. He shook his head, "This was not Zeus' doing. Rather, it was your oldest, Brunhilde's." You froze, eyebrows furrowing as you questioned what he meant. After all, Brunhilde didn't speak out against the Gods that often. It was always with you when she did it.

🔱 "She declared Ragnarok. Zeus accepted and is currently scrolling through the nominees for the Gods' Team." He replied, eyes watching the octopus Göll, your youngest, affectionately named Ink. "She opposed the Gods and is fighting for Humanity, isn't she?"

🔱 "Yes." He said. Your eyes went to the floor. This was not something you wanted to happen. For years, you raised those girls to help the Gods. NOT help the humans. The humans that tore your once-beloved son from you.

🔱 "I would like to fight." Poseidon's eyes widened slightly, looking down at you with his grip tightening on his trident. "No. I will not allow it."

🔱 "Poseidon, it is my choice. I'm not fighting for the honor of the others, but for the honor of my son." You said, eyes darkening in anger. "Zeus already asked me to fight in Ragnarok. I will be taking your place. No matter the outcome, the girls will need you. Our boys will need you." He said, motioning to your five sons, Polyphemus, Triton, Orion, Theseus, and Aeolus, running around happily, unaware of the chat between their parents.

🔱 You looked back to the ground, sorrow filling your form. In the action of making your thirteen daughters out of enchanted clay, you wanted to feel the love you felt for Zerofuku, but, Brunhilde threw that away. Like a rag used up.

🔱 Just as Poseidon began walking away to grab your sons to bring inside, you grabbed his loincloth-like fabric around his waist and said, "Please. Just, don't hurt any of the girls." He looked into your eyes, blue into blue, and blinked.

🔱 "Alright." He said, leaning in and kissing your head, in a way to comfort you in this mind-racing time. "The boys and I will be inside soon."

-

💀 Your husband sat beside you in your bedroom. Tears were falling from your eyes silently. That day was horrible. You declared you weren't going to speak to your daughters until Ragnarok was over, saying you needed time to even out your situation during the battle. Hades, your husband, patted your back through everything.

💀 A letter had been delivered by Hermes to you from Brunhilde. In this letter, she declared she, and her sisters -- your other daughters -- would be performing Völundr with their assigned human fighters. You were in distress, you already lost your son, how could you lose your daughters too?!

💀 Hades leaned his head on yours, silently helping you. He could hear the first round of Ragnarok playing in the background on your holographic-television. It was when it was over, that you both heard the announcement of Lü Bu, the first human fighter, dying.

💀 The God of the Underworld's eyes widened in surprise, not at the fact that the human died, but at the fact that one of his step-daughters, that he loved just as much as you did, sacrificed herself for humanity. Were they really that amazing?

💀 "No... Randgriz... my baby..." You sobbed harder now, tears falling heavily as your hands covered your eyes. Hades' eyes began to water now. Randgriz was one of his favorite step-daughters. He loved the light and love she brought to the Underworld, to his life, and the way that she cared for everyone, no exceptions.

💀 A knock on the door alerted you, but, you made no effort to move. Hades, who wasn't crying nearly as hard as you were, stood up and answered. "Who is it?" He asked.

💀 "Papa?" A little voice said. Looking down, there stood your youngest child, Zagreus. He looked up with tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. "Is Randgriz okay?"

💀 You ran up to Zagreus, and enveloped him in a hug. Zagreus, who was surprisingly smart for a child of his age, hugged you back, understanding what was happening now.

💀 Hades frowned and kneeled in front of your both, wrapped his arms around you two and began to cry. Your sniffs pained him, as did his son's. You made those girls to help with your emotions, to keep your happiness around. Yet, you neglected the thought of losing them like how you did Zerofuku. You protected them for years, and, despite all your effort, you were losing them all over again.

-

🐍 Loki knew your daughters well. He was around, what a human would say 20s, in age when they were sculpted by your hands by enchanted clay. You asked if he could watch over them for years when you were busy, and he did so pretty well. Sometimes, it felt like your daughters were babysitting him though.

🐍 You observed as Loki played with your three children, your daughter, Hel, and your two sons, Fenrir and Jörmungandr. Loki danced around them, Fenrir shapeshifted into his single form; a large wolf, while your other son became his only form; a large serpent. Hel just wrapped her arms around her father's neck as he flew around, playing tag with them.

🐍 "Come on, Dad! You're going to high up!" Fenrir called. Loki merely laughed and told them to try harder in catching him. Jörmungandr looked at you and silently asked for help. You smiled gently and called for your husband, making him freeze and call back to you.

🐍 Just then, your sons tackled Loki, making him yell and fall down to the ground. "Gotcha!" The boy-turned-serpent yelled. You kept a smile up, but it vanished when you heard your husband's name being called from behind you.

🐍 Loki looked up and put his daughter on the ground next to her brothers. "Let me guess, little old me is up next?" He asked Thor, who was tasked by his father, Odin, to retrieve his cousin. "Yes."

🐍 Thor looked at you and nodded back to you after you motioned for him to take your three kids away. They happily jumped with Thor, on their way to sit with their Grandpa and their Uncle. You then looked at Loki and then down at the ground, asking him if he was sure about doing this. "After all," you added, "Poseidon, Heracles, Hajun, Hades, hell, even Susano'o No Mikoto now... what if you're next?"

🐍 "Love. I know you lost five of the girls, but, believe me when I say this: I will make sure I get back to you, and... hopefully keep whatever Valkyrie chosen alive." He said, his hands holding your face as he stares into your eyes.

🐍 "I'll come back." He said. "I love you."

🐍 You smiled and kissed him, he hummed happily before taking your hand and walking with you back to his room to get ready for his round.

-

🌩️ Thor cared for your daughters. He was someone you cared for deeply, and, since he wasn't biologically related to them, it comforted you that he still put effort into acting like a father. Your emotions actually came out with him, and it did make your girls proud when you married Thor and not someone like Zeus.

🌩️ You've been married for years, and for those years, he and you parented Móði and Magni, your twin boys. As you raised your two biological children, Brunhilde began to separate herself from you, leaving you feeling a hole again. And, with no other ideas, you tried to connect with her again, only to be shocked when she told you she didn't want contact again.

🌩️ Odin told you it was most likely due to 'teenage-angst', but, after hearing she proposed Ragnarok, you were heartbroken once again. You looked at her, and, when she eyes connected with yours coldly, you leaned your head onto Thor's shoulder.

🌩️ You stayed with Thor the entire time, only being away from him due to the first round. And, after it was over, you tried talking to Brunhilde, only for her to ask if you were happy with yourself.

🌩️ "What are you talking about, Brunhilde?" You replied. "You know what I'm talking about! Your husband! He just killed your own daughter! How can you pick him over us?!"

🌩️ "I'm not picking him over you, 'Hilde! Do I have to spell it out?! I made you all because I wanted you guys! I wanted children to call my own!" She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. We're nothing but animated clay to you. You were never, and will never be my mother."

🌩️ Your eyes widened in shock as Brunhilde walked away. Shock was all you felt. After everything you gave her; your time, your care, you love, and she just says it was all nothing to you. Your boys just stood beside you, also shocked. You were an excellent mom, they've seen the photos and videos of you raising your girls. Why was she hating you so much?

🌩️ "Fine... have a good rest of the tournament, Brunhilde." You said, walking away with your boys trailing you. Thor, who was watching from behind a nearby pillar, was upset. He saw you care for Brunhilde and your daughters, you just struggled expressing emotions when it comes to loss. How does she not, in her millions of life with you, understand that?

🌩️ "Brunhilde." He said, causing the eldest Valkyrie to turn around and look at her step-father. "What?" She replied. "You've wanted to know why your mother made you, correct?"

🌩️ "Yes."

🌩️ "I think it's time I tell you."

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[unascended]

BEING SPURNED SHOULDN'T HAVE STUNG SO PROFOUNDLY. It was as if he'd been stabbed. Where normally pain required that Astarion have an iron grip on his overt emotional responses, he'd been free to express himself for far too long. What (horrors) wonders being free for a couple months could do for his ability to reel it in.

He could go limp and pliant and allow his body to be used, but he couldn't take a little rejection?

"Wait." It was a snip delivered with a cold hand held up between them, but it was firm. He needed to take a moment, and he couldn't have Sylverian slithering off before he could respond. Astarion's jaw clenched, and rather than look at the hurt painted on Sylverian's face, he leaned over to retrieve the clean underwear he'd forgotten to put on after he'd scrubbed himself clean. Fishing them from a neatly folded pile of clothing, he set about pulling them up his legs and - he reached for a blanket. He didn't want to be clothed, nor did he want to be exposed.

If he swaddled himself, he'd be safer for it. Sylverian wouldn't be tempted to come back to his body as if he were sorry he'd said no.

Wrapped tightly in a rather exquisite fur, he finally turned about-face, scrutiny evident in the wrinkle of his brows. No one had ever said no to him before.

He'd always been the one who -

And no one ever -

He had two choices. He could remain angry and snap at Sylverian like a cornered animal just as he'd done all day, or he could give up the act. No, he couldn't afford to spill it all, not right now, but this... this wasn't working. Hells, if he were being honest none of it was but he couldn't think of a single way to cough that whole vile business up that wouldn't end horribly in one fashion or another. Either way he had to stop this. What he was doing. Preferably all of it, but he didn't want to.

Funny that. If he were deluded enough to believe Cazador was a god he may have thought Sylverian was put in his path to torment him.

"Sex is... complicated for me." Astarion admitted, fighting against his urge to simply throw Sylverian out of his tent and be done with this whole mess. "I feel desire sometimes. Often at times you might find inappropriate. But I - well... Cazador had me use my body to lure him the prettiest things I could find."

This was ugly. He should make this innocent man leave before he was eternally scarred. He couldn't. The dam was broken. "I never had a say in what anyone did to me. Or with my body. I never had the luxury of saying no. Not unless Cazador allowed it to entertain his guests."

He was spitting and snarling, perhaps, but for once it wasn't at Sylverian. This wasn't Sylverian's fault. He was right to stop this. He was right and he was kind and it had thoroughly complicated his simple plan.

This time when he reached for one of those warm, pink-tinted hands, it was with a tenderness so genuine that he wanted to gnaw off his own tongue. "Thank you. For what it's worth I do want you. But being touched, it... brings back those feelings of disgust and fear. I disappear into myself. I don't know where I go but I..."

Something in Astarion's voice breaks and he released that soft hand, body rolling to face the wall of his tent and exposing his bare, scarred back to the man beside him. "I was wrong to do that to you. To lie so you'd touch me and I could avoid what you asked me for. You are under no obligation to forgive me, or Gods forbid pity me. But you want this, right? This is what you wanted."

There are several moments spent in shameful silence, red eyes burning holes through the canvas of his tent. So much honesty feels almost as if it's torn him open and left his entire being as a gaping wound on the stone floor of the kennels. It's happened again. One wrong word and he was being defiled.

"I don't know if I can be what you think you see in me, Sylverian. I would do unforgivable things to be free of him."

He already had.

SYLVERIAN WAS TOO ATTENTIVE A LOVER, too in tune with those he shared intimacy with for this shift in energy to go unnoticed. It didn't just brush against his awareness ; it crashed over him with such startling intensity that it left him momentarily breathless.

Astarion was upset.

Was the thought of simply being together and holding each other so upsetting to Astarion?! Was Sylverian’s company, when they weren’t having sex, so unpleasant?!

And suddenly — perhaps because Sylverian was such a bleeding empath and so easily swept away by the emotions of others, or perhaps because he was still overwhelmed, or perhaps because something felt so terribly wrong, or perhaps because of all these things at once — he felt anger stir. It coiled hot in his gut, unsettling and unwelcome, and before he even realized it, he was shying away from Astarion’s touch.

❝I don’t want… this,❞ he said, his voice sharper than intended.

He swallowed hard, his anger dissolving as quickly as it had risen, leaving behind something softer. Something raw and aching. His voice now wavered, quieter, unsure.

❝I… I feel like I am just a reprieve for you,❞ he admitted, his thoughts tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. ❝I don’t judge you for it. I have done the same, when fear stole my rest and only your touch kept the nightmares at bay.❞ Without Astarion, the tadpole and everything else would have been too much to handle. ❝But I meant what I said before, that I want to try, and I don’t think you truly give me a chance———❞

He stopped himself before he could say anything else, his gaze faltering, his fingers toying with a lock of his golden hair to anchor himself. Gods, the tent felt stifling all of a sudden.

Outside, the last remnants of daylight had given way to night.

❝I… forgive me,❞ he murmured at last. This was all so confusing. ❝It has been a long day. I should rest.❞

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Asagiri and Harukawa could not have delivered a scarier Halloween chapter if they tried because what the fuck was this—

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[leafatlaw]

the parkour noobs only see a slab of dirt when they look up, they don’t see the sky. wouldn’t they naturally assume the pros up there all live on one big land piece? that maybe if they can ascend, they can escape— they don’t need to parkour anymore. or at least that’s what they think.

Sobbing crying ect. Yeah, it hurts to think of them dreaming of a world without parkour, where every movement isn’t a life defining risk. That’s what draws people to jump for the ticket to try and climb up, that maybe this difficult parkour will be the last they will ever have to make. And up there they can have all the raw beef and chicken for free.

And no one tells them differently. The parkour pros laugh but don’t explain anything. And so it becomes part of the all but real idea of the pro level. Up there, there’s endless spaces to walk around and the perfect safety net to catch you wherever you go.

(Maybe Evbo was disappointed seeing the top level for the first time. He had finally made it up, but he still had to jump to survive)

[sphnyspinspin]

OKAY—Now that I’ve calmed down enough to be able to get actual coherent thoughts together, so that I may be able to properly convey the artistic integrity of this here masterpiece.

First of all, I ADORE this ENTIRE premise so darn much my heart rate was fixing to SPIKE THROUGH THE GODDAMN ROOF.

I am about start watching this over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again until the sun implodes and we all die.

But, for real though, I am VERY enthralled with the framing and the story telling and the absolute SIGMA ENERGY this animatic dares to emanate.

My favorite frames—personally—have got to be:

- When Hot Shot wakes up next to Scorch’s pod

- Hot Shot burying his face in his hands (literally Asmo wtf did you inject into that image and where can I get sum)

- The motherfucking class photo in the motherfucking drawer—OH MY GOD WHY AM I CRYING—

- AND HOLY CRAP THE FADED RING AROUND HOT SHOT’S CHEST PIECE WHERE HIS BADGE USE TO BE OOOOOOUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!!

- Edit: AND THE SWIPING STUFF OFF OF THE TABLE SCENE I NEEDED TO APPRECIATE THAT MORE IM SO SORRY ASMO!! IT PUTS SO MANY ROM-DROMS TO SHAAME!! I ESPECIALLY LOVED HOT SHOT’S EXPRESSIONS IN THAT SCENE DEAR GOD!!!

And among other things such as—CHAPPELL FUCKING ROAN PLAYING!!! AHHHHHHHH !!! GOOD LUCK BABE IS LITERALLY SUCH A GODDAMN PERFECT SONG TO PUT FOR THIS AND ASMO IS SUCH A GENIUS FOR ANIMATING WEDGESHOT TO IT OF ALL SHIPS!!!

I sincerely CANT GET ENOUGH of what this gives me in terms of my RBA hyperfixation being the most fun I’ve had in AGES since a bunch of stuff has been crappy irl.

And not even mentioned my LITERAL OBSESSION with Chappell Roan’s music being a core fucking memory for me just made the experience of seeing this in real time all the more inspiring for me.

Thank you Asmo for being such a talented WEDGESHOT artist that this fandom DESERVES!!!!

🥹🫶💖✨🚒💛🧡🚧✨💖🫶🥹

Take this animation-practice-turned-animatic about an au I posted about ONCE

In case I'm a sucker at visual storytelling:

This is an au where Hotshot resigned himself to become a Cube star player after leaving the team in year one! Six years later (aprox I have no idea) he's living the high life along with Scorch's team! Or so it seems until he starts to realize Cube champion is not that satisfying of a career path, and thinks back to his time at the Rescue Bot Academy, to where it's too late to go back to! (Fun fact: there's a replacement for Hotshot back on earth too, so they moved on, yeah--) (also the part where Wedge appears is meant to be a tiny vision of the picture talking to him, that's why Hotshot is so freaked out)

Some frames that go on too fast to actually watch:

[dr-wormman]

Did you know I actually have no idea how to draw hands

[jessamine-rose]

*lovingly tackles Aine*

Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽｀)

Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—

*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3

[fighting-these-demons]

Divorce Saga Domon - A Haunted Honk Prequel

Hello Internet Stranger looking up G Gundam on Tumblr dot com!

This is an idea for a fic set in an Alternate Universe involving Queer Non-Canon Relationships between the characters of the series.

If you are not looking for this content please scroll on.

If you ARE looking for this content - and you're ok with reading my and other's Headcanons for this Alternate Universe I've haphazardly spun up -

Then go ahead and feel free to:

Check The Tags Of This Post For The Pairings

and click the Read More below!

--------------------------------------

Ended up outlining a completely different fic as a Segway for an explanation instead of making progress on the Royal Flush Haunted Honk AU's Clown Motel Fic like I wanted to but uh....

For y'all's review for the AU: A Prequel Outline - Divorce Saga Domon

--------------------------------------

Hey real quick - I'm thinking of maybe changing the timeline to 2 years post canon as opposed to 3 years and change post canon.

The reason being: I had a thought that this scene could either be part if the fic or if it's getting to big then it could be a stand alone tie-in prequel fic as part of this AU but - like

Immediately Post Divorce Domon Needs Space and runs off. As one does. And he runs to Earth because he just wants to Get Lost for a while.

He has Argo smuggle him out to avoid detection.

Argo has Andrew help stow Domon in a storage hanger of a Neo Canadian supply ship that's returning to the US - they have trade often enough and share agricultural resources - which leads to Domon ending up in New York when he hits Earthside pavement.

He's privately worked on his English the last couple of months and after being dropped in New York with a different hairstyle, outfit, and accent he's unrecognizable. 

He considers making his way west to get some solitude in the wilderness, but something about that initial plan feels off now that he's on the ground.

Chibodee is also Earthside for a special series of prize fights aimed at raising charitable appeal for the US in the eyes of Neo Americans.

Domon decides to hit up Chibodee for a fight on a day between matches hoping it'll clear his head and give him the clarity to decide on a course of action. What ends up happening is an unexpected heart to heart via blows and a breakdown.

Domon is happy for Rain and Kyoji, and he knows it's not true; but he feels like he lost a piece of himself when his relationship with Rain fell apart.

Domon's instinct is to run after that but Chibodee knows this city and Domon doesn't hide out for long before Chibodee drags him back to his place to stay and just "Chill out and breathe. You don't have to be anyone but yourself here. You can take as long as you need to find out what everything changing means for you." Friends and teammates stick together.

So Domon spends a few weeks with Chibodee sparring and hanging out in New York. Chibodee does a frankly awesome job at containing his feelings because he's focusing on Domons feelings and being a good friend first and foremost. Whatever he's feeling can wait until after Domon is done going though it.

There's a bit of a twinge in Domon's heart as he leaves that he can't really place.

After he returns to Neo Japan and gets settled back into life with his family, The Dreams start.

They're mainly set in New York. Small things first like noticing Chibodee's smile and his eyes. Then sparring sessions that begin to turn lurid.

He thought these kinds of dreams would stop after he was married.... he doesn't know what to do about this.

I just figure it gives more clarity and sense of time for the journey from Comphet Marriage Dissolution to Feelings to Confession. Idk.

But I got stuck on a bit and then had this thought and needed to get it down before I lost it and it was so long it made sense to make it its own post as opposed to several replies.

The Maize and Clown Motel will probably still be 3 years and change post canon for clarification.

@thedragonchilde @amplexadversary @youreaclownnow

[daily-mizuki-water]

ggulp.going off anon for this I hope you like hermit mizukiauouh

jusrto clarify this is my drawinf.the way i layed this out makes itvseem like irs some random art its not its mineaorugh.ouuyoghgj mmizuki akiyama.ouhg

HOLY SHIT??????? . ????? THIS IS SO COOL OH MY GOD... YOUR ART IS SO GOODD!!! AGHHHHHHHH!! it looks like the cover to a fantasy book that changes the lives of the fourth graders who read it irreparably that background is amazing

[gingernut1314]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYBKP57r/

(:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Oh--oh my god

AHHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SILCO

MY MAN

MY GLORIOUS HONEY BUNCHES

SOBBBBINGGGGGGGGGGG

Somehow imma put this in my fic just watch

And the different profiles like i'm FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

Thank you for sharing

I needed it

We all needed it

Giving you so many smooches cause--

[spaciebabie]

does any other demiromantic (or arosepc doesnt rlly matter) feel like. extremely awful when they experience romantic attraction or is that just me.

[ratatatastic]

do you also think about ekky, in his first full game back after rehab, the practise held the day afterwards, when asked how easy it was to play with forsy again going "its like having your own cheat code out there" and "im blessed to be able to play with such an awesome partner" thanks man very nice

[linkvcr]

Do you ever

Do you

Do you everrr

Do you ever think about skyward sword

👁️👁️

i've never thought about this game in my life [< worlds biggest liar]