#and :))))) my head and heart hurt :)))))

[siffroncrocus]

hermitshipping / trafficshipping

(info under the cut)

ddvau

au made by @xmaruu11 @kitsuneisi

heart forecast/kokoroyohou by eve

editing by me :3c

[ex0toxin]

happy pride from everyones favorite boy besties!! 🏳️‍🌈💜

[tubbytarchia]

Somewhere in the woods, a moth tires of seeking light

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]

I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.

Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.

Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.

I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.

On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.

These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.

[lotus-pear]

regret

[simcardiac-arrested]

like tree, like apple

[essektheylyss]

One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

First post for the Slay the Princess fandom

Take my design for the Voice of the Cold while I figure out how to design the rest of them

(Spoilers for the Pristine Cut update below the cut and in tags)

Happily Ever After drawn on paper

[hansmannette]

kiss for you, kiss for me!!! 💋

[petricorah]

try a little tenderness 🎵 [id in alt]

[mars-ipan]

i have other things to draw but these new kmhn fits from the merch drop have enamored me

(my comms are open, btw!)

[evergreen-endo]

WE PLAY THE SAME KEYS AT DIFFERENT TIMES — r. kaji.

cw: 18+ mdni, f! reader, car sex, spit. wc: 0.8k a/n: unedited. thought about him on my drive home. enjoy. 

You and Kaji can’t ever just listen to music in the car together.

He really never intended for it to be like this at first— but once it happened the first time, it’s all he could think of the next time he got in his car. It’s the same every time; inviting you for a ride to listen to a tune that’s stuck in his head, one he claims he can’t get rid of until he hears it again. But with him, it can never just be one song. There are too many that make him think of you these days, despite his best efforts to press skip on those in particular. 

He drives around until night falls, and you’ve both shared everything you’ve had on repeat this week. As he pulls onto the highway, the low vibration of his car picking up speed thrums against your thighs, much like the guitar blaring through his speakers. The low light of the city falls on his hands as he steers with practiced motion, heel of his palm flat against the leather. Warm yellow light trails along the veins on his arms, dragging your gaze wherever it touches. It highlights the rim of his features for a split second, long enough to see the way he side eyes you.

He lets out a huff, leaning back against the headrest to hide in the dark, though it’s futile. As he whirrs past the overheads, the light guides your gaze to his thighs, spread lazily even with one foot on the gas, and up, up, up to…oh. It’s only a second that you see it before light rushes past, and you wait on the next street light to illuminate him. It takes its time, stretching slowly over the same path, fingertips to forearms to biceps. A flit of your eyes down, and the car leers onto the exit ramp, light changing its course and missing the bulge of his cock entirely. 

The both of you huff for different reasons, you in disappointment, and him in relief. Not that you can hear each other over the music, anyway.

You spend the rest of the ride bopping your head along and picking up your phone to add songs you like to your own playlist. He’s grateful that there aren’t as many street lamps on the route to your place, so you miss the poorly hidden smirk that plays on his lips. 

Pulling into your driveway, he thumbs at his wheel to turn the music down just as that one song comes on. The one you fucked to the first time he did this; the reason he keeps inviting you to do this. He pauses, sighing, and turns it back up again. You tense, thighs crossing as you hear the click of his seatbelt and squeak of the leather as he reaches over to click yours, too.

Kaji’s breath always comes out ragged— grits his teeth and hisses through them even as his chest heaves for more oxygen. He’s got you bouncing on his cock in his backseat, guiding you to some extent, rough grip on your hips because he really can’t find it in himself to be gentle. Not when you move so perfectly you hit every goddamn beat. 

You’re the perfect melody to him— he has half a mind to lean forward and turn the music down in favor of the sound of you. Ass clapping against his thighs, wet squelching from between yours, breathy moans and gasps and keens. He wishes he could isolate every salacious layer of sound— to savor it, ingrain it into his memory to replay over and over.

The beat of the song slows, just before he knows it’ll build up again. He takes the break to wrap an arm around your waist, effectively slowing the motion of your hips. You whine as he forces you to grind your clit against him, and he hums, captivated.

Using his free hand, he twirls his fingers through your hair, wrapping the strands around to get enough hold to pull you forward, the abruptness ripping a gasp from you. Perfect. Twisting his lips up, he tilts his head forward, letting a glob of spit travel past his lips and drip down onto your awaiting tongue as he plants his feet firm on the ground. With all the leverage in the world, he bucks his hips up into you as the beat picks up again, the heavy weight of his thrusts knocking the air from your lungs. 

It gets hard to move when you squeeze around him, ticks him off that you’re slowing down his rhythm. He just wants to give you what you deserve and you’re always holding him back with that fucking grip of yours. At least, he thinks, you’re giving him a chance to readjust his hips, so he can hit that spongey spot inside you until the song closes out, until all that’s left is the sound of your shared panting.

[madspeed]

im playing ddd

[chell-min]

in other news bedman’s obvious soft spot for ramlethal makes me so fucking ill

and she credits him with teaching her the importance of her own value as a person but doesn’t understand why a “good” person like him would still help with the universal will’s plan what if i kmsd

[chanranghaeys]

🕒 final boarding call

Airport reunions are the best, but airport goodbyes are the worst if you never wanted to say goodbye in the first place.

pairing: joshua x gn!reader; implied breakup off the page word count: 2.3k tags: angst with (some) comfort, open ending, mom it hurts, longing and yearning and pining warnings: none

a/n: this is what happens when shua goes on wv live for 16 minutes after months of radio silence, time is weird here but just go with it please, shua i miss you

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“May I have your attention please. This is the final boarding call for Korean Air Flight 705 to Seoul. All ticketed and confirmed passengers should now be on board the aircraft at Gate 113.”

Fifteen minutes left.

This was the last round of announcements for the final boarding call. You both only had 15 more minutes left on the clock.

Yet here you two were, still seated at the same small cafe table, across the person you both never thought you’d hear or see from again.

The person you both would not admit how deeply and terribly you missed.

You clutched the disposable cup of black coffee close, allowing its heat to keep you warm and its bitterness to keep you awake. He could easily down the remnants of the iced americano in his hand, the cardboard sleeve already damp with condensation, but he bade his time. He always took his time with you.

An hour ago, he was grateful for the extra three minutes he took to double-check his luggage before leaving the airport cafe. Because if he had left three minutes earlier, then he wouldn’t have heard you asking if you could take his seat when he left, wouldn’t have almost bumped into you as he stood up, wouldn’t have seen the unguarded look in your eyes when you both slowly recognized who the other was.

“Shua.”

His breath caught in his throat when he heard his name from your lips and how distantly familiar it was. It had been too long, way too long for his liking since he heard your voice.

“Hi,” he breathed out. He stood there awkwardly, not knowing where to place his hands in the forced proximity between you two. And because you could not help but feel so stupidly and unreasonably homesick at how helpless he looked, you closed the distance between the two of you into a briefly civil hug.

“How are you?” You ask him. “What are you doing here in Tokyo?”

“Ah, this is just a layover. I’m going back to Seoul.”

“Oh, okay—”

He checks his watch. “I actually need to board in an hour.”

“…Oh.”

Shua sees your face fall for a moment. A surge of hope blooms in his chest at this, but he has to ground himself back to reality. “What about you? What are you doing here in Tokyo?”

“Actually, I’m also just here for my layover. I have…four hours, 25 minutes to go.”

“You just arrived?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’ve still got the long haul ahead of you,” he laughs lightly, his eyes closing into moon-like crescents the way that you always knew they did, and it pains you to see them and not be able to kiss them the way you used to. “Where are you off to?”

“Paris.”

“Paris—wait. No way. Is this what I think it is?”

“Yeah, it is. I’m going to work there, finally. And study. Mostly work, for now, but…I’m getting there.”

His eyes widen at this information you’ve just shared, and it pains him to know that he could not just hug you and sweep you off your feet the way he used to. So he settles for a hand on your shoulder, a gentle squeeze with his thumb slightly sweeping back and forth, before he says, “Wow. I��m so proud of you.”

Your heart swells at the comment. He’d always been rooting for you to reach this dream of yours since Day 1. You thought he wouldn’t be there to see it to fruition anymore, yet here he is. In a way, he is here.

You shake your head and remember where you both were. Did he say he was going to leave in an hour? “Shua, it’s so nice to see you again, really. It’s okay if you need to go. I think that was your boarding call I heard just now over the PA.” You stumble over your words, not knowing what to say, desperate to get this over with before you could embarrass yourself or worse, let out the emotions that were building up in your throat.

“Hey,” he catches your attention and you finally look at him. You see his gentle smile before you both look down at his wrist. That’s when you notice.

It was a simple watch you knew well, an inexpensive silver digital Casio watch, worn from years of use. He could've worn any fine watch he wanted—you're sure he’d already amassed the massive collection of timepieces that he only used to dream of, but it surprised you to see this particularly simple watch. It made you remember how years ago, you surprised him with it on his birthday saying, “This could be the start of your dream collection.”

“Don’t worry. An hour is a long time. I’ll take my time.”

You unconsciously let go of the pendant you’ve been worrying between your thumb and index finger. The way the light bounced off it caught Shua’s eyes. He knew that necklace—it was a birthday gift, a silver pendant inlaid with tiny cubic zirconias that glinted when you moved. But he didn’t know how or why you still had it, and why you were wearing it. He knew how sentimental you were with jewelry. You wouldn’t wear just any necklace on any given day—everything always had a meaning. That's how intentional you always were with what you did. It catches him off guard, but he decides to stay silent.

“Okay,” you say. You both sit down at the table in awkward silence. You wrack your brains with something—anything—to say. He sees your silent struggle, so he beats you to it.

“I tried baking, you know?” Shua launches animatedly into his story. “I went to this sandwich shop in Seoul recently that sold cookie sets and I got to try their white choco chip macadamia cookie. It was so good.” His face aimed to express just how delicious the said cookie was. “I tried the recipe and it turned out exactly the same!”

The laugh that escapes your lips was as natural as it could be. “Is that so?”

“Yeah!” His eyes sparkled, turning into two crescents when he smiled that smile that scrunched up his nose. You almost melt on the spot. You never thought you'd see that smile again. His face turned curious before he asked, “Did you ever get around to trying it? Baking?”

“Uh…no. No, I still want to try it. I don’t know, just really put it to the side with everything that's been happening.”

He saw the pinch of sadness in your eyes. If only he could tell you that you were the reason he became brave enough to try baking. “Well, it's high time you should! I told Mom about it. She said that cookies are always the easiest to bake as long as you follow the recipe. That could be your starting point.”

Mom. You realize he didn't say my mom. He said it as if she were still yours, too. “Oh yeah, how is she?”

“She's doing well. That's actually where I came from, we were in LA for a few weeks. She went home a bit earlier so I could spend some time alone there.”

“That's nice.” And before you realize it, you blurt out, “I miss her. It's been so long since I saw her.”

“She misses you too.” He looked straight into your eyes, lingering for just a moment longer and hoping it could also convey the words I miss you too.

You look back at him, a small smile growing on your face. He reciprocated it with his own. It was one of your favorite ways of communicating, both of you believe how much a simple curve of the lips can say. You both knew what those smiles mean even now.

“So you went back to LA? How was it?”

He exchanges stories with you as if no time has passed at all. Despite everything, you two knew each other the best. It turns out that you were still each other’s best friend. Surprisingly, not even time and space can change that fact.

“May I have your attention please. This is the final boarding call for Korean Air Flight 705 to Seoul. All ticketed and confirmed passengers should now be on board the aircraft at Gate 113.”

You both check the time. Thirty minutes left.

How was that 30 minutes already?

“So, Paris!” Shua claps in an attempt to turn your attention away from each passing minute. “Tell me about Paris.”

“I’m so excited!” The feeling is palpable in your tone. You recount your journey, never failing to remember all the support he showed throughout the parts of it where he was there. “Though, you’ve been to Paris, right? You know that it’s not exactly all that.”

“Yeah, all that glitters is definitely not gold,” he laughed as he sipped his cold coffee. “And all that smells isn’t exactly French perfume and fresh croissants.”

It was your turn to laugh at how bluntly he said everything in his matter-of-fact tone. “I heard! But if you ask me, Paris is really just a stepping stone. I don’t think I’ll stay there forever.”

“So where do you want to stay?”

Anywhere you are, is what you wish you could say. But you settle with, “I’ll cross the bridge when I get there. All I know is that this opportunity will bring me anywhere I want. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m proud of you. Really. I’ve said that right? But I really am. Wow.” He shakes his head, still in awe of the whole thing.

“Thank you, Shua.” You keep your coffee cup close to your lips, blowing softly as you cradle it with both hands. You shudder involuntarily because of the unexpected cold you felt in the airport despite the long-sleeved shirt you already had on. You regret leaving behind that jacket at home.

Ever observant, Shua deliberately shrugs off his cardigan and holds it out across the small table. His white shirt looked immaculate on him, and his bare face was etched with concern. It physically hurt your heart to look at him, but you know you could never stop. He held your gaze, his eyes wide open and full of unspoken emotions. How could he be this beautiful?

How could you both let go?

“Shua, please—”

“Just—I know you need it. You’re cold.” He gently shakes the cardigan in his hands to prompt you to take it.

Knowing you have no choice in the matter, you take it with a sheepish smile, surprised at how it was unexpectedly heavier than you thought it was. What you were wholly unprepared for was how it would envelop you in his scent, his perfume a light and clean musk mixed with the lived-in scent of him having worn this for what you assume were hours.

“I missed you.”

When those words were finally spoken out loud, it was as if a weight was lifted from both your shoulders, replaced with a sense of calm. You both thought it was taboo.

While the breakup was amicable, it was still painful. And while you both knew it was for the best and for the sake of one another, it was still the cause of many days passing with unshed tears in your eyes. Because if it really was for the best, why did it haunt your nights with the unfulfilled potential of what you could have been together?

Were you both really better off apart? That question never left your heads, as much as you tried pushing it down in the recesses of your brains.

And now you both see the answer. It was right in front of you.

“I missed you too.”

“May I have your attention please. This is the final boarding call for Korean Air Flight 705 to Seoul. All ticketed and confirmed passengers should now be on board the aircraft at Gate 113.”

Ten minutes left.

“I guess that’s my cue to go.” He stands up to gather his things. Your eyes follow his every move as if committing it to memory. You realize you actually are taking in as much as you can in this moment because he was leaving again, there is no other choice.

Do you really have no choice? No choice but to leave again? He turned these questions over and over in his head. No answers came up. Not now.

“Oh, wait.” You move to remove his cardigan on your shoulders, but he stops you and shakes his head.

“No, keep it.” He looks at you as if searching for something in your eyes. “Maybe you can return it when we meet again.” When we meet again.

He can’t help himself. He leans down for an embrace, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he rests his cheek on the crown of your head.

You can't help yourself. You stand to meet him in a proper embrace, not like the brief one you gave earlier. You wrap your arms tight around him, afraid to let him go again. He strokes your head and ventures a feather-like kiss to your temple in an attempt to comfort himself by holding you in his arms.

When you both break away, you find your hands latched together. You knew you could not utter a goodbye. Wordlessly, he looks at your hands. He looks up at you. And with one last smile, he let go and walked away.

“Shua!”

He looked back, with five minutes left on the clock for him to board. He took in as much of the scene as he could: the hustle and bustle of the airport seeming to quiet down to let him focus on you, your hopeful eyes, your mouth slightly turned up in a smile, your hands worrying at the cuffs of his oversized cardigan on you.

“Call me when you get to Seoul. Safe skies.”

[hunterrrs]

rossi: the pens let sid keep his two long-time husbands, gave him a hot new gm who’s as hockeynerdy as he is, and a hot new dman who keeps manhandling him on ice; would they really let him keep his favorite son too??