#and i don’t want to have to be gone while this is happening too

[hyperions-light]

The Poison Fruit Ripens

#defendingtheending here we go

First of all mega super ultra spoilers for the ending teaser that Steam says like… 6% ? Of players have seen? So you’ve been warned. No cuts baby, it’s Miyazaki style

Okay, so it’s the Executors, and they’re probably coming across the sea in the next game (if EA doesn’t nuke BW), from what I can gather. I mean, this is fine from a lore perspective. All we knew about those people before is that 1) they are mysterious 2) they are from over there, across the ocean

And now they’re maybe connected to the revealed Qunari lore, which I am ! So excited to have! We already knew that the Qunari fled across the ocean for unspecified reasons, and that going back there was Not A Thing. But now we know that they left because of the (probably metaphorical?) Devouring Storm, which could be connected to the Executors. What are the odds that there are two separate Huge Bad Things Over There that both want to destroy Thedas? Probably is just one big thing— also the title Executor implies they are doing the bidding of someone else, so whatever the Qunari were talking about could be it. (They also talked about being agents of someone else’s will in the Inquisition War Table quest).

So the cinematic shows a bunch of our prominent villains from the previous games being influenced in some way by the Executors. Which I think people are upset about, but I think it’s fine because:

- They did not really specify the manner of influence. I would be annoyed if they retconned Loghain’s decision to leave Cailan on the battlefield because it makes him interesting, but they didn’t say that. They just said they influenced his decisions. They could have done that by stoking his paranoia about Orlais, or by planting Arl Howe to influence him after the battle. He did a lot of OOC stuff while he was King Regent, and this could be a chance to explain what didn’t make sense for his previously established character and was just put in there to make him seem Very Evil.

- They also were around some people doing a blood magic ritual… there weren’t enough of them to be the Magisters, technically, but that is usually what it looks like when we see them in DA art so I’m going to assume that’s them for now. I mean that’s wild if that’s what it is bc that was such a long time ago? Thee guys have really been playing the long game I guess

- The other person they directly influenced seems to be Bartrand, which is really easy because who the fuck gave him that damn map? We NEVER found out who pointed Bartrand to the Thaig! Someone did it, and they probably did it on purpose! It may as well be these guys

- the rest of the villains don’t get guys whispering to them, so I have to assume they mean to imply that they just set up the circumstances that would lead to these people gaining power. I mean someone sent the Carta to the Vimmark mountains, right? And there was like some weird demon there, too.

-So basically they’re just implying that these people have been manipulating events to make sure that shit in Thedas is hitting the fan all at once, which does kind of explain the frankly improbable number of world-ending events that have happened during the Dragon Age. I mean, three Blights, two Magisters, two Evanuris, Antaam invasion, major mage rebellion, Templar schism, and the death of the Southern Divine? It’s only been like 50 years!!! Before the Dragon Age there had only been four Blights since the Ancient Age! Shit does not normally happen this fast in Thedas

I think the phrase itself is pretty direct (also giving Southern Reach vibes). All this chaos they helped sew is reaching its culmination, and now they’re getting ready to cash in the chips. They’re coming to Thedas at the moment that all the great powers are at their weakest, when there’s basically no one to oppose them. Tevinter? Fucked. Qunari? No military anymore. Antiva? Haha! lol, even. Fereldan? Basically gone. Orlais? In shambles. Free Marches? Decimated. Anderfels? There’s like 100 Wardens left in a swamp. Nevarra? I actually don’t know, maybe the lichlords can do something. Maybe Rivain could field some token resistance if they didn’t get hit by the Antaam too badly, but that’s kind of it IMO. This is THE time to come in and conquer(?) the land, or whatever they’re trying to do. Kill everybody?? Turn them into Darkspawn? Who knows!

Some speculation about what could be done to repel invasion:

- shit ton of blood magic

- fix titans, wake them up??? But idk if they’d be into it

- adaari, but idk if there are that many

- people with dragon blood, like the Theirins, are maybe super special and can do things?

- pirates, baby!!! Woooooo!

- I guess Mythal could know something? She can see the future a bit

- dragon army! Dragon army!!

[sol-iscus]

❗️Mild arcane spoilers ❗️

Miiight ruffle some feathers.

Not EVEN going to lie, unnecessary ship wars aside, the fan base has developed such a deep love and understanding for these characters (because let’s be honest, there are some pretty intelligent people giving eye opening analyses) that after the finale, it appears that we have a better understanding of them than the actual writers.

We deserved better as the audience after all the hype over the years, all the waiting, even after some episodes got leaked a while ago, most of us remained respectful and waited to see what this season would bring us. The core characters ABSOLUTELY deserved better as well.

It felt as if I was watching all of the characters’ development be erased in real time, or become sidelined and nearly mute after being propped up to appear as if they were going to have a significant arc.

With the amount of episodes we had, it felt like they were trying to cram a bunch of different storylines into one 9 episode season and that left us with annoying plot holes and rushed sequences.

And I’m just gonna say it.

If a certain relationship needed to be sacrificed if it meant that other characters had the proper development they needed and DESERVED, then I would have preferred that much, MUCH more than that undercooked finale.

Don’t. Even. Get me started on that caitvi scene. In the cell? Right after that conversation she had with her sister? Don’t give me that nonsense about how it’s vi reclaiming her power or something. (An actual weird ass statement from Amanda Overton in a Q&A video about how that was Vi reclaiming and working through her trauma in that cell).

No apology? No groveling for forgiveness? That little argument they had lasted like five seconds and didn’t even address the earlier conflict that happened in the show after cait left vi. And before any of you say “cait apologized with her actions”

I don’t care. Two things can be true at once, she can and should have apologized directly as well as displayed that with her actions.

Moving on to Mel??? We did not nearly have enough time to explore her new abilities as a mage, her armor, and her connection to the black rose. As I said, the storylines this season should have been more refined so we could focus on a central group of characters. They did nothing but hint at her armor from the end of season 1 all the way up until now.

Also maybe I’m hallucinating, but did we ever find out what happened to the firelight’s tree?? That’s one of the main reasons Ekko and Heimerdinger went to the lab isn’t it? HELLO?

Next on my list, Jinx. This girl has suffered to no end.

- Lost her whole family except for Vi.

- Almost died once and was brought back to life.

- Tried to end her life several more times

And you slap us all in the face by writing her off?

“Oh but she may not be GONE gone, look at the glitching at the end!"

I. Don’t. Care. It’s the principle.

I’m sick and tired of seeing characters that struggle with mental health and keep having one bad event after another happen to them, never receiving a proper ending. What messages are the writers sending with this? That death is basically the answer because there’s no hope for them? Cool. That was not an honorable act of self sacrifice, that was plain insulting.

Instead, if they still really wanted to have a Jinx redemption arc and a chance to rekindle her relationship with Vi, having her tap into engineering for the betterment of Zaun would have been the better route.

We should have gotten an extra extended episode since this is last season for the Piltover/Zaun region, and for Jinx and Vi's story. I really want to blame Riot for being greedy and possibly becoming too cocky with the popularity of Arcane that they think anything would suffice because It's Arcane.

[dissapointu]

Hey, i love your work and i think that your writing is beautiful

Can i request the ladies of Arcane with a imortal fem s/o? Like, she's about their age and cannot die from things that aren't time itself, their s/o can only die when her time comes, until then, no matter how much anyone tries to kill her, she will simply regenerate

Sorry for the long text and english errors, it's not my native linguage. Also, thank you for reading it :)

Thank you so much for your kind words! Your English is amazing, and I’m honored to bring your idea to life.

Jinx

Jinx would think your immortality is the coolest thing EVER.

• When she finds out, her immediate reaction is pure excitement. “Wait, so you’re, like, INVINCIBLE? That’s AWESOME!”

• She’d probably test your ability at first—nothing too serious, but you’d definitely have to talk her out of throwing you into something reckless. “What? You’d heal, right? No big deal!”

• Over time, though, it would hit her: if you’re immortal, she’s the fragile one in the relationship. It’s a bittersweet realization for her.

• “Promise me something, okay? That you’ll remember me… even when I’m gone.” She’d cope with humor most of the time but get quietly sentimental when she thinks too hard about it.

• Jinx would also LOVE showing off your ability. “This is my girlfriend—she’s totally unkillable. Jealous much?”

Vi

Vi would be lowkey awestruck by your immortality, but she wouldn’t show it at first.

• When she first sees you regenerate from a life-threatening wound, she’d be wide-eyed for a second before shaking it off like, “Okay, that’s a neat trick. Care to explain?”

• Once she understands the full extent of your ability, she’d be deeply relieved. “That’s one less thing I have to worry about… but damn, does it still freak me out.”

• She’d be protective of you, even though you don’t technically need it. “Immortal or not, nobody gets to hurt you on my watch.”

• The thought of growing old while you stay the same might weigh on her sometimes, but she’d push those feelings aside to make the most of the time she has with you.

• “Guess that just means I have to make every day count, huh? You’ll remember me when I’m gone.”

Sevika

Sevika would be skeptical at first but ultimately find your immortality fascinating—and useful.

• When she sees you regenerate after a near-fatal injury, she’d be stunned for a moment before muttering, “Well, that’s one hell of an advantage.”

• She wouldn’t coddle you, knowing you can take care of yourself, but she’d still have your back in fights. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I’m letting anyone get a hit in.”

• Your ability would earn her respect, especially in the rough-and-tumble world of Zaun. “You’re tougher than anyone I know. Guess that’s why we work.”

• She might joke about your immortality, saying stuff like, “Good thing you’re stuck with me—nobody else could keep up with you for that long.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be both amazed and worried about your immortality.

• When you reveal your ability, she’d be quiet for a moment, processing what it means. “So… no matter what happens, you’ll always come back? That’s incredible, but… also terrifying.”

• She’d admire your strength but still feel protective. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt.”

• Your immortality would make her think deeply about her own mortality, but she’d value the time you spend together even more. “It doesn’t matter how long we have. Every moment with you is worth it.”

• Caitlyn would support you in every way, helping you navigate the emotional weight of your immortality. “You’ve seen so much, but I hope I can give you memories worth holding onto.”

Mel Medarda

Mel would see your immortality as both a gift and a burden.

• When she learns about your ability, she’d be intrigued and ask thoughtful questions. “How long have you carried this? How does it feel, knowing time is your only limit?”

• She’d admire your resilience and strength, seeing you as a kindred spirit in navigating a world that often demands too much.

• Mel would be deeply aware of her own mortality, but she wouldn’t let it hold her back. “If I only have a fraction of your time, I’ll make it unforgettable.”

• She’d also be fascinated by the strategic advantages of your ability, often thinking about how you could use it to shape the world. “With your gift and my vision, we could change everything.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be incredibly impressed by your immortality and see it as a rare, invaluable strength.

• When you reveal your ability, she’d smile knowingly. “I had a feeling there was more to you than met the eye.”

• She’d appreciate your ability from a pragmatic perspective, understanding how it could turn the tide in dangerous situations. “Immortality is a weapon. Wield it wisely.”

• Ambessa would admire your determination and experience, often asking for your insights. “Someone who has seen so much must have a wealth of wisdom. Share it with me.”

• She’d be confident in your ability to protect yourself but still fiercely protective of you. “Immortal or not, you’re still mine to protect.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be in awe of your immortality but also concerned for how it affects you emotionally.

• When she finds out, she’d be both amazed and worried. “You can survive anything? That’s incredible… but it must be so hard, too.”

• She’d do her best to support you emotionally, always checking in to make sure you’re okay. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here for as long as I can be.”

• Maddie would focus on creating meaningful, happy memories with you, knowing that her time with you is finite. “Every moment we share is precious to me.”

• She’d admire your ability to keep going despite everything you’ve experienced, often telling you, “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Lest

Lest would have a unique perspective on your immortality.

• When she finds out, she’d tilt her head curiously and ask, “Does it hurt, coming back? Or is it like waking up from a long nap?”

• She’d be fascinated by your ability and how it shapes your perspective on life, often asking you questions about your experiences.

• Lest would be quietly protective, always by your side even if you don’t technically need her help. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean you should face everything alone.”

• She’d enjoy your company immensely, seeing your immortality as an opportunity to build an enduring bond. “If I stay by your side, will you tell me your stories? I want to be part of them.”

TL;DR: Each character would be amazed by your immortality, but their reactions would be shaped by their personalities. Whether it’s Jinx hyping you up, Caitlyn worrying about you, or Mel pondering how to use your gift to shape the world, they’d all admire your strength and resilience while cherishing the time they have with you. You might be immortal, but their love and devotion would still feel infinite.

[shybluebirdninja]

FADING BONDS: PART 3

Summary: Two broken souls—Logan, an aging hero, and a young woman overlooked by her own family—find solace in each other’s silent company, forming an unexpected connection that challenges their emotional walls.

Pairing            : UberDriver!Logan x Fem!Reader

Genre              : Angst, Fluff

You stand outside his door, your hands trembling from the fight you just had with your parents. Your chest is tight, each breath feels like a struggle, and all you want is to disappear. But instead, you find yourself here, at his place—Logan’s place.

The door creaks open, and there he is, standing there with that rough, weathered look. His eyes are sharp, like always, but there's something softer in them tonight. He sees you, really sees you. It's different. No questions. No judgments.

“What's up?” he says, voice gravelly and tired, like he hasn’t slept in days.

He scratches at the scruff on his chin, like this isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Like he doesn’t mind you showing up at his door, looking like you've been through hell.

“I... I just needed a place to go,” you manage to get out, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper.

You don’t know what you’re doing here. Hell, he probably doesn’t know either, but there’s nowhere else to be. Nowhere that feels safe.

He steps aside, his hand gripping the door just a little too tight, knuckles white like he’s holding something back. “Yeah. Come in.”

You walk past him, and the smell of cigarettes and old whiskey hits you—familiar, oddly comforting. The place is a mess, but it suits him. Scattered bottles, a couple of plates on the table. Nothing fancy, just... survival.

He doesn’t say anything as you sit on the couch, your legs barely supporting you anymore. You’re trying not to cry, but your throat’s burning. Everything’s been a mess. Your life, your family... they just don’t get it. They don’t get you.

For a while, there’s nothing but silence between you two. It's heavy, but it's the kind of silence you can breathe in, where you don’t have to pretend.

“I had a fight,” you say, the words falling out of your mouth before you can stop them. “With my family. Again. They just... they don’t see me. Like, at all.”

Logan doesn’t look at you right away. He stares at the floor, his hands resting on his knees.

“Families are... tricky,” he mutters, his voice low and rough, like he's been through this conversation a thousand times before.

“Yeah, tricky,” you laugh bitterly. “They see my sister. She’s everything they wanted. Me? I’m... I’m just in the way.” You pause, wiping away the tear that managed to escape. “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere.”

Logan lets out a sigh, a deep one that sounds like it’s coming from years of holding shit in.

“Charles and Caliban used to say I belonged. I didn’t believe them. Never really felt like I fit anywhere. Even with the X-Men.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “Guess it don’t matter now. They’re all gone.”

The room feels colder after he says that. Charles... Caliban... they were more than just names to him. You can see it in the way his eyes darken, how his fists tighten like he’s trying to hold onto something that slipped away a long time ago.

You reach out, your fingers brushing against his hand. It’s an instinct, but it feels like the right one. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t flinch. Just stares down at your hand on his, his skin rough and calloused from years of fighting, from losing.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, because what else can you say?

He looks up at you, and for the first time, you see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he’s been hiding behind that gruff exterior.

“Don’t be,” he says softly, voice breaking just a little. “We’re all broken in some way.”

The room’s too quiet again. The kind of quiet that makes you feel everything at once.

And then, before you even realize what’s happening, you’re crying. Really crying. The kind of sobs that shake your whole body, the ones you’ve been holding back for too long. You don’t even know if it’s about your family or him or yourself—maybe all of it.

Logan shifts closer, hesitant, unsure, but then his hand is on your back, rubbing slow circles like he’s trying to comfort you, but he’s just as lost in this moment as you are. He’s not used to this—comforting anyone, being close to anyone.

“You’re not alone,” he says, voice almost a whisper now, like he’s saying it more to himself than to you.

His hand moves to your face, his thumb wiping away the tears. It’s the gentlest thing he’s ever done, and it hits you hard, how soft he can be when the world’s been nothing but cruel to him.

In that moment, something shifts. You look up at him, your faces inches apart. There's a rawness between you two, a vulnerability you both desperately need but are too scared to fully accept.

Before you can second-guess it, you lean forward, and your lips meet his.

It’s not passionate, not desperate. It’s fragile, almost broken, like two people who’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel something real.

His hand cups your cheek, and for a second, you feel safe. Like maybe, this world hasn’t chewed you up and spit you out completely yet.

When you pull back, you see it in his eyes—he’s as scared as you are. Scared to feel, scared to need. But here you are, in this broken moment, both of you barely holding on.

Neither of you says anything. There’s nothing left to say. But in that silence, you find something you hadn’t in a long time—a reason to stay.

[ghoulangerlee]

HERE WE GO. dewther phone sex that probably could have gone on for another six thousand words if I'd continued writing instead of forcing myself to end it :)

there is some lore-y stuff in here because I am not me if I don't include my own personal lore, and at the end there's mentions of heats and knotting but neither of those actually happen :)

Dew is a lil mean in this but as it turns out, Aether really likes em mean.

-

The phone rings, pulling him from the inventory reports in front of him—it's the desk phone of all things, not his cell that sits face down a little further away and for a moment, he thinks to ignore it, to continue his work so he can finish quicker and get to bed sooner, but at the late hour it could be some kind of emergency— 

He picks it up, balancing his pen in his other hand as he cradles the desk phone between his ear and shoulder, “Infirmary, this is Aether speaking, how can I help you?”  

There’s silence on the line for a moment and Aether tilts his head, “Hello? Is someone there?”  

A sigh, familiar in its tone echoes across the line, “Hey Aeth,” Dew mumbles, sounding tired, “Didn’t know if you’d still be awake.”  

Aether glances up at the clock across the room, the hands ticking by slowly, it’s late, much later than he’d expected, “Ah,” he says, “I was finishing up some inventory reports in the infirmary, some new guy decided to double the amount of gauze we need so now we’re swimming in it but don’t have any more antibiotics,” he glances down at the papers in front of him, red lines crossed through black numbers, “Been down here most of the day counting things to get everything right again.”  

Dew hums, a pleased little sound, “I like hearing you talk about the work you do,” he says, tone bordering on that sappy-tired one he gets whenever he’s worked to the bone and sleepy, “I miss you.”  

“I miss you too,” Aether murmurs with a small smile, leaning back in his chair and focusing all of his attention on Dew, “How is guard duty with Frater Imperator?” he asks, a brief flash of worry catching him.  

“He’s safe,” Dew says, yawns widely over the line, “A little annoyed by the travel, a lot annoyed that there may still be something or someone after him despite everything,” he’s candid about it, and if Aether closes his eyes, he can almost see Dew sitting in front of him, waving a lazy hand in emphasis as he speaks. “Of course, we’re doing fine, this other church is okay, a little drafty and the ghouls here don’t really speak, but I guess it’s fine for a little while. The elders keep giving me dirty looks when they think Copia isn’t watching though.”  

A pang of regret goes through him, he’d almost went with Dew and Copia, but something had come up in the infirmary, someone had fallen ill and he’d been the best person to fill in, he wishes he were there with Dew right now. “Sounds exciting,” he says, “A little draft isn’t too much for a fire ghoul, right?” he asks teasingly, feeling the tension of the day fade the longer he speaks to Dew.  

“Cold day in Hell that a puny little church with an annoying clergy bothers me enough to make me leave early,” Dew says with a snort, “I wanted to talk to you though, time differences suck. We’re on different continents and everything so I can’t even really feel you right now either.”  

Aether gets it, he can feel the way his bond with Dew is weakened, barely there, dormant in the distance between them—in the back of his mind he can still feel him, but it’s a far cry from the usual. “I know, wisp,” he murmurs, “I wish we were closer too,” he admits, “Church is quiet without you here.”  

“Copia was giving me shit earlier,” Dew admits after a few moments of silence, “Said I looked sad, like someone stole something from me,” he pauses, clears his throat, “Told me to come call you, that you’d probably be up working still even at the late hour.”  

“He was right,” Aether says with a little laugh, “Not that he has any room to talk about what is and isn’t late,” he continues, and then glances up at the ceiling, “Are you still sad?” he asks cheekily, lazily spinning his chair to the side, “Do you need me to talk to you so you can fall asleep?”  

He means it as a joke, but there’s a serious undercurrent there, something they’d discovered before Copia’s lateral move, when Dew had toured but Aether stayed behind—sometimes, sometimes his brain wouldn’t let him sleep, not alone, and he’d call Aether, listen to the quintessence ghoul talk until his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a comfortable sleep—imagining his mate right there beside him.  

Dew hums lazily, “Maybe,” he starts, but this time, there’s something of a breathless quality to his voice, “Or maybe I want to talk to you about other things.”  

It takes Aether a moment, if he focuses hard enough, he can hear something on the other line, a slick sound, a hitch in Dew’s breathing, “Is this a booty call?” he can’t help but ask, the words spilling out before he can stop it, “Dew are you—” he cuts himself off, presses his palm against the bottom of the phone and glances around the office.  

It’s late, of course, and the door isn’t locked, but he’s the only one down here right now, having sent the rest of the staff off, only keeping a bare bones support staff in case of emergencies, but he can’t sense anyone else.  

“I am working,” Aether finally says, lowering his hand, feeling a flush come up the sides of his neck, “If someone were to walk into my office, they’d—”  

“They’d what?” Dew asks sharply, the hitch in his voice making it obvious what he’s doing, “They’d think you were on the phone, right, baby? That you’re working late, working so hard for everyone, making sure the inventory reports are all correct. You’re not doing something silly like touch yourself, are you? You’re on the phone and you’re working diligently.”  

Aether grits his teeth, pressing a fist hard into his thigh, “I’m not touching myself,” he says, and looks down at his desk again, numbers taunting him on the page, “I’ve stopped working for the moment to talk to you,” he inhales deeply, bites his lip when he hears Dew moan quietly over the line.  

“You’re being such a good boy,” Dew murmurs the praise, praise that shoots right down to Aether’s core, “I’m going to touch myself and you’re going to listen to me and keep working, aren’t you?”  

Aether bites harder at his lower lip, tilting his head back against the chair, “I am,” he finally agrees, after a long moment of listening to Dew breathe heavily, the slick sounds of his hand.  

Dew waits for a moment, almost as if he’s aware that Aether’s not working, waits for minutes until Aether sits up, scoots his chair forward and picks his pen back up, “If I were there with you, I’d situate myself under your desk,” he purrs, words going a bit high on the end. “You’d be a busy body about it, complain about me distracting you but we both know you want me to.”  

Aether digs the pen into the paper in front of him, keeping his gaze trained on the numbers on the page and he hums a little, “You are good at being a little shit sometimes,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual.  

A laugh, breathless and the slick sounds seem to get louder, “Uh huh,” he agrees, “I am, but you love me like that, you love when I push your buttons. Take you down a peg, big guy.” Dew grunts a little and Aether can only imagine that he’s fucking up into his fist, “You turn to putty in my hands the second I get my mouth on you,” he breathes.  

“Lies,” Aether says, trying to keep his voice firm as he presses his legs together, “You’re just running your mouth.”  

Dew swears softly, “Aether,” he moans out, “Strong words for the guy who begged me to fuck him right before I left,” he teases, and Aether feels hot under the collar when he thinks about it, how desperate he had been for Dew’s dick. “It’s okay big guy, I love when you fall apart for me, when you can barely speak because you’re so dick drunk,” he coos, “Thinking about how your skin’s so cold, but every time I get inside you, you heat up like a fire ghoul,” he teases, “Like I’m branding you from the inside out, isn’t that right baby, you’re all mine and no one can fuck you as good as I can.”  

Aether squeezes the pen in his hand tight enough that he can hear the plastic creaking, “Dew,” he says sharply, but doesn’t speak beyond that, knows if he says anything else he’s going to make a fool of himself, he’s going to start babbling about how much he wishes Dew were here now, down under his desk, mouth on him, making him come.  

As the silence stretches between them, Dew moans again, this time higher, another swear, the steady creak of bedsprings, little ah, ah, ahs falling from his lips as he does, “Say something sweet for me baby,” he finally says, breathless and oh so close. “Let me hear your gorgeous voice, tell me what you want me to do for you, baby.”  

And oh Dew’s begging now, desperate in the same way he gets when they’re together, even when he’s being mean and teasing Aether—when he’s close, when he just needs a bit more to come.  

The pen clatters to the desk and Aether’s quick to shove his hand down the front of his scrubs, so glad he’d opted for them instead of the stuffy slacks he normally wore when on administration duties, “I want your mouth on me,” he finally admits, “Wanna fuck your face while you wait under the desk for me to finish working,” he manages to get out, moans when his fingers meet his dick, stroking over it quickly. “Want you to put a couple of fingers inside me, something for me to squeeze around,” he swallows heavily, tilts his head back against the chair as he arches his hips up into his own touch, imagining the heat of Dew’s mouth around him, “I feel so empty, firelight,” he admits, voice breaking a little as he does, pants out in the open, “Feels so empty when you’re away, want you to carve a place inside me and never leave.”  

Dew swears again, louder, a litany of fucks falling from his lips and Aether thinks he comes, thinks if he focuses hard enough he can feel it, the heat of it inside him, that maybe their distance is driving him a bit mad with how much he misses him.  

“Come for me baby,” Dew’s voice, rough with his orgasm, fills Aether’s ears, draws a sharp gasp out of him as he clenches around nothing and comes, goes completely breathless with it as he continues to touch himself until he’s too sensitive and he has to pull his hand away though it doesn’t go far, arm falling limp between his thighs once his hand is free from his scrub pants.  

It takes a while for his heart to settle down, for his breathing to fall under control again and he allows it, floats there as he wishes that Dew were here with him right now, a warm weight between his legs, fire all down his chest and stomach as he cradles him close, chasing away the chill that always falls over Aether after coming.  

“—ay we’re going to be back tomorrow, we’ve done all the ground work here, anyway, the rest is just boring admin work that can be done over Doom meetings.” Dew’s murmuring when he comes back into focus, “As soon as I see you baby, I’m going to get my hands all over you just like you deserve,” he promises, filthy and low in his ear, “Gonna have you coming so much you’ll be satisfied for days.”  

Aether hums, interested when his brain catches on the first part, still mostly focused on the second half of Dew’s words, “Tomorrow?” he asks, hating the way his voice sounds so hopeful.  

Fuck, it’d been weeks though, since he’d last seen Dew. Since they’d been together. He misses him.  

“Yeah, baby,” Dew murmurs, “Our plane landed a bit ago, we’re at a hotel for the night, but Copia’s got a car coming to get us in the morning. We’ll be home before you know it.”  

Aether makes another noise, something choked, “Oh,” he says, looks down at the paper on the desk in front of him, half-finished inventory reports, “I’ve got to—”  

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Dew says firmly, “You’ve got tomorrow off and maybe the day after, Copia’s feeling a bit benevolent,” he says that with a bit of a grin in his voice, “Inventory will be fine for a couple of days, besides, Copia said he’d work on whatever you didn’t finish, just leave it where you’ve got it and he’ll take over. No arguing with me, alright?”  

And well, Aether can’t argue, because he’s feeling a bit selfish, a bit like he wants to shirk his duties for a few days so he can spend time with Dew instead, something warm settling in the pit of his stomach. “Okay,” he settles on, feels the weight lifted off of his shoulders at the word as he leans back in the chair, making it squeak a bit under his weight.  

“Good boy,” Dew says sweetly, “Now, listen, I want you to hang up the phone and go get cleaned up, settle in our bed and before you know it, I’ll be there, waking you up with a kiss.”  

Aether thinks about his nest, the one he’d been working on since Dew had left, how it still smells like the two of them and how much he wants to be there now, “Okay, yeah,” he says, “I can do that.” He swallows, bites his lip, “I love you, Dew.”  

Dew hums softly, “I love you too, big guy, I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”  

When he hangs up the phone, it’s with warm feelings, and as he levers himself up out of the chair, he feels like he’s floating.  

He grabs his phone, scrolling through the few notifications that he has, there’s a couple of text messages that he’s not too concerned with answering tonight, another text from Dew that’s just a heart emoji and then a singular calendar notification.  

Aether raises an eyebrow but thinks nothing of it at first, locks up the office and deposits the key in the safe box for another staff member to find before he heads up from the infirmary and to his and Dew’s bedroom.  

Once he’s showered and settled into bed, wearing only his underwear and a thin t-shirt that used to be Dew’s at one point and is entirely too short on Aether and stretched out the from the number of times he’s squeezed into it, he picks his phone up again.  

Taps the calendar notification and blinks at the entry that had been added recently.  

Mandatory Leave 10.26 - 11.3 – Accepted by F. Imperator  

There’s a text, one that had come in while he was in the shower, from Copia this time.  

Dew may be a little grumpy in the morning, our car arrives in three hours to pick us up, we’ll be back before your heat starts. The others have stocked your room while you were working and I’ve taken the opportunity to clear your schedule for the next week just in case. Let me know if there’s anything you need <3  

He feels a surge of affection, sends back a heart in response and takes a moment to take stock of himself, feels the low simmer of something that had been bothering him for a while, something gnawing at him the entire time he’d been without Dew—and he didn’t think that it was heat, thought it was just something happening because Dew had been away for so long. His mind races a bit, wonders why his heat had decided to show now of all times—  

His phone buzzes again, a text from Dew.  

Go to sleep, Aeth. I can feel you thinking from all the way out here. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.  

He huffs quietly, sends back a fuck you and a heart a moment later, almost immediately, another text comes through.  

Of course, big boy, anything you need. I’ll even let you knot me if you want <3  

[dadvans]

seven (+) sentence sunday

from the continued buck finds out he and tommy have a kid 10 years after the fact timeline

Buck shows Mary how to measure out dry ingredients into one bowl, slide a knife over the top of a cup to make sure each measurement is even, mix in the wet slowly and not all at once. She grimaces at the feeling of rolling the dough into balls between her palms, and Buck probably lets her taste test too many chocolate chips.

Mary likes baking fine. She likes the cookie fresh from the oven that Buck lets her have before dinner even better, while Tommy continues to nap. But while she signals her appreciation for the end product by trying to immediately ask for just one more, after a day of seeing himself reflected in her, the overall experience is one of the first things that reminds him that she’s definitely Tommy’s kid too.

The second thing, the bigger thing, is that she’s figured out how to work his TV, and she immediately searches for ESPN. He can hear the sports commentary from the kitchen while he starts finishing the chili, and when Tommy wakes up and comes back downstairs, he can hear her shuffle shuffle pad pad pad from the living room to the stairs and ask him if they’re going to be allowed to “watch the games” during dinner.

“It’s not our house, kid, it might be rude to ask,” he hears Tommy say, voice sandpaper rough from sleep in a distant, familiar way.

“Daddy, we’re in the final four.”

“I have both games recording at home. We can watch them when we get home tomorrow night, even if it cuts into your bedtime. How does that sound?”

A sigh. “I want to know tonight, though. We’re so close.”

“Nothing’s gonna change overnight. This is Buck’s place, baby, we have to respect that. I don’t know what his rules are.”

Buck puts the lid back on the crockpot and steps out into the hallway to meet them. “Some kind of competition happening out here?”

Tommy sighs and scrubs at his face with one hand, but Mary lights up at the opening.

“It’s the semi-finals for March Madness tonight,” she says, like that explains everything.

“Oh.” Buck knows a majority of the guys at his house do brackets every year, but he usually tunes them out when they talk about it, and checks back into the conversation when it moves to fantasy football in the fall. “College basketball, right?”

“Mary and I do kind of a modified competitive bracket,” Tommy says. “Instead of a traditional bracket, it’s just who gets closest overall wins. With the way this year has gone, tonight is more of the decider than the actual championship.”

“If I win, we’re going to Disneyland,” Mary continues, clearly focused on what is most important.

“I didn’t even rig my bracket this year to let her win, and she’s still kicking my ass.” Tommy looks down on her, radiating a kind of pride and fondness that Buck’s never seen him inhabit before, a new part of himself that was born with her, maybe. He gets a big hand in her curls and messes them up, and she gets her hands up to swipe at his forearm, grab it, try to pull him down by sinking him with dead weight.

It’s cute, is what it is. Hits all of Buck’s weakest, most vulnerable spots.

He wishes there were room between them for him too.

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma - pt 2

The room is vibrating with quiet conversations and the anticipation only a good game can bring.

Below, Hinata’s warming up. He knows exactly where you’re sitting and he waves excitedly before moving on in the line-up.

“Hey, you’re here already.” Kuroo smiles when he squeezes through, pulling you into a hug.

Behind him, Kenma comes shuffling in. You move to hug him, like you always do when you’re meeting in a group, though you barely touch this time. It’s a fake-out more than anything else.

“Have you been here long?”

“Hinata needed a ride,” you shrug your shoulders. “I had the car this weekend, so it wasn’t a problem.”

Kuroo whistles a mismatched tune. “Do you think they’re going to win?”

“Oh, for sure,” you smile up at him. “Like how can they not?”

You know you’re not the most knowledgeable when it comes to Volleyball. Most games one of the boys ends up explaining a play to you, but no one ever seemed to mind.

Today, though, you mind.

You know Kenma hasn’t told Hinata about that night, because Hinata’s the worlds worst liar. You’d be able to tell if he knew.

Kuroo, however, is an amazing liar. If he knows, and you suspect he does, he isn’t letting it slip.

His kindness feels forced to you now. Is he pitying you? 

“Did you get that?” He asks half an hour later when the referee waves his hands in a way you haven’t seen before.

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“You don’t have to explain it,” you say instead, the words a little more biting than they should be. “It’s fine.”

Kuroo startles and behind him, you can see the concern in Kenma’s face. 

You can’t stand it anymore, being this close to him, and get up.

“I need to use the toilet,” you rush out. “Lady problems.”

The line is short. 

But you sit on the cold toilet seat for fifteen minutes, scrolling through Tiktok until your heartbeat settles and you feel ready to go back out again.

You’ll have to apologize to Kuroo in some way if you want to save this friendship.

Though is there a way to save it? Should you, even? 

-

“Did you see my spike?” Hinata asks later, hair damp from the game, towel slung around his neck. “Did you?”

You’re not sure which one he means, but you nod and you fawn over him like you usually do. 

But then he’s gone, gone for a quick shower, and you’re left to wait around.

“You good?” Kuroo asks and you can feel your spine stiffen, from the top all the way down to the bottom.

“Yes,” you tell him, though your eyes stay on the floor. A quick check, Kenma’s shoes are nowhere to be seen. At least he’s not here to witness this. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t want your pity.”

Kuroo quiets. He’s usually someone who moves a lot, squiggles his foot, or taps his thigh, but he’s motionless right now, at least the lower part of him that you can see. Nothing is going to make you lift your eyes up. You don’t want to see his face.

“Did something happen last week?”

You hesitate.

“Nothing happened.”

“Are you sure? Kenma said you watched the movie and went out for dinner after like we usually do. He said you didn’t talk much, that it was quiet, but if it’s something about Kenma-”

“Why does it have to be about Kenma?” You lift your eyes now, want to see his face. He looks concerned. Too soft. 

He reminds you of yourself. How did Kenma call it? Bothering people. 

“Maybe it was something at work. Or it’s because I’m on my period. Or I’m just having a bad day. Maybe some creep tried to hit on me and I’m weirded out by that. Why do you automatically assume that it’s about Kenma?”

Kuroo’s quiet for a moment. “You usually react differently to Kenma being around.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “Things change.”

He looks pained but he doesn’t pry anymore. You can’t help but think that he’ll ask Kenma about it later. That Kenma will tell him the truth, eventually, because they’ve been friends longer than anyone you know. 

You force yourself to smile. This might be the last time you see Kuroo in a while.

“I’m just being weird,” you promise him. “A girl has to be weird sometimes.”

“Okay,” he nods and you stay there, silent, until Hinata comes back.

- - -

“Hey.”

You look up from your desk. Kuroo’s standing in the doorway, shirt pushed up to the elbows, his hair defying gravity as usual. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. 

Work has kept you busy. You’ve got other friends too, though Hinata has been pretty good at calling you up.

“Hey,” you hesitate for a second. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I was in the area and remembered you work here. Do you wanna get lunch together?”

You hesitate. 

“Just checking in on you,” Kuroo promises. “Don’t be a stranger?”

You sigh. “Fine.” 

-

“Kenma hasn’t told me anything, by the way,” Kuroo tells you as he separates his chopsticks. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why would I be worried about that?”

He chuckles. “You’re pretty good at deflecting, has anyone told you that before?”

“And you’re a mother-hen, has anyone told you that before?”

“Yeah,” he stuffs an egg roll into his mouth and nods. 

“How do you deal with that?” You ask, pushing the rice around your bowl for a moment before taking a bite. 

Kuroo shrugs. “I like being this way. If I step on somebody’s toes, I apologize of course, and try to stay clear of that, but in the end… it’s who I want to be, so why change?”

You consider that, but it’s not that easy. 

Nothing really ever is when there are feelings involved.

“We’re having a movie night next weekend,” Kuroo adds gently when your bowl is almost empty. “I’m formally inviting you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to. I like having you around. We,” he corrects himself with a grin. “Like having you around.”

“Who’s we?”

“Bokuto, of course, and where’s Bokuto there’s Akaashi. Atsumu invited himself and he’s bringing Osamu, so there’s food involved. I think Hinata managed to rope Sakusa in, but that’s always a little debatable.” He stops. “I just realized they’re all just guys, so I’m counting on you to invite a few girls.”

“Are you using me to find your friends some girlfriends?”

“Why, is it working?”

- - -

It’s no surprise that Kenma’s not showing up to movie night. He’s not a big fan of crowds, you know, and there’s always a crowd when Atsumu is concerned.

It’s a good thing you end up going because you end up setting Emi up with Osamu - completely on accident - and as Hinata figures out he’s allergic to some weird European drink you’re the only one with antihistamine pills in your possession.

-

“Do you always come this prepared?” Sakusa asks, hiding out in the kitchen where it’s calmest. 

“I guess,” you reply, preparing yourself for another sting.

“I like that,” Sakusa hums. “Do you have hand sanitizer?”

“Sure,” you pull it out of your purse. “Scented or unscented?”

“Unscented please.” He offers his palm and thanks you quietly when you squeeze out the liquid. 

“You can call me Kiyoomi,” he adds after a moment of silence. “Just don’t tell Miya.”

You smile. “This is what being knighted must feel like.”

Kiyoomi taps your forehead. “Don’t get too cocky or I’ll revoke your rights.”

-

“Are you coming to the cinema this weekend?” Hinata asks after a game, eyelids already fluttering with exhaustion. “It’s that one movie you said you wanted to watch.”

“Sure,” you tell him, ushering him forward, waving at Kiyoomi whose car’s a little further down in the parking lot. “Who did you invite?”

“Everyone,” Hinata yawns. “Can you drive? Key is in my-”

“Wallet, I know.” You pull it out of the bag he’s carrying. “If you invited everyone, surely you wouldn’t miss me.”

Hinata furrows his brows. “That’s not true.”

It’s sweet, but you wonder about it sometimes still. 

It’s the age-old question, isn’t it? Do you like me because you need me or do you need me because you like me?

You think you’ve grown, in these last few months. 

You like the way you are. Not the smartest and not the dumbest. Over-prepared and over-caring. 

But you’ve also recognized that you’re a friend and not a mother.

That you want a partner, not a child. 

“I’m good,” you tell Hinata when you reach his apartment complex. “But thanks for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

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Mom Friend - Kenma pt one two three

[redrose10]

Hi, I hope you are well! I really enjoy your work and I always look forward to new pieces 🫶🏻 please may I request a Yoongi ff 13 (soul mates), trope 5 (unrequited love), prompt 34 (so I guess this is the end) and 53 (not the right place, not the right time) please make him mean 😭

If the request is too difficult or weird, please feel free to skip it, thank you 💜

Hi! I hope this is okay!

< Maybe In the Next Life >

Warnings: Swearing, slightly suggestive, very minor mention of the scooter incident, being sold off as a servant

Soulmates, Unrequited Love

#34 “So I guess this is the end.”

#53 “Not the right place, not the right time.”

*******************************************************

Everyone has different goals in life. Some want to be famous, some want to run a successful business, some want to travel the world. Some don’t want any of that and have their own ideas of happiness. The one goal that everyone has in common though, is to find their soulmate or so you thought. It’s the only way to achieve eternal peace once and for all. Otherwise you have to relive your life over and over and over, each time searching for your soulmate and trying to fall in love. But…your soulmate has to also fall in love with you too.

Every time you were reborn and you grew into an adult the memories of all of your past lives would come back to you. You had seen many horrible things over the years. Wars, famines, diseases, and natural disasters all took their toll on you. Every time you remembered all of the family and friends you had lost it broke you down a little bit more each time. It was getting to be too much.

The one person you knew would be a constant in every life was your soulmate because you were destined to find the same person every time until the two of you fell in love with each other.

You can still remember the first time you met him. It was your first life and you were sixteen years old as was he. In a spot of desperation your parents had sold you to his family as a servant. He was a part of a very noble family. His father was the king making him the prince, you never even suspected that he could possibly be your soulmate, but one evening you were tasked with helping him bathe and dress for the annual ball when you saw it. On his chest was a small faint tattoo of a heart. Every time you touched it the ink would darken. Just like the tattoo you had would do the same when he delicately ran his fingers across it. Immediately he rejected you. He scoffed because how could Prince Min Yoongi, the future king, have the soulmate of a lowly servant girl. You spent the rest of that life living as his servant, watching as he brought woman after woman into his palace to run his hands over their tattoos hoping they would darken at his touch even though he knew it was useless, finally he’d resort to just using them as a sexual release instead while you were forced to look on.

The rest of your lives have been filled with much of the same. Eventually running into Yoongi not even needing to check the tattoo any more because you already knew. He was always born into a position of power. Princes, emperors, heirs to fortunes. He always rejected you because you were never good enough. There was that one time you thought he might’ve been falling for you, but he ended up getting a bout of cholera that he unfortunately passed away from, so it didn’t matter any ways. Other than that one time you were always a nobody in his eyes and not worthy of his love.

Even now in the life you were living currently. He was an idol. A kpop superstar. Often deemed a member of the biggest boyband in the world. Wealthy. Powerful. Looked up to by many. And you…you were nothing of that sort.

The thing about soulmates is that you can’t go searching for each other. Everything has to happen organically. So even though you knew of Yoongi and you could’ve gone to a meet & greet or a concert, you had to just let destiny run its course and bring the two of you together.

Which of course it did. You were working in an office building entering numbers into a computer all day. It was one of the most boring jobs you’d ever had but it paid the bills and had good benefits. On your way to work this morning you stopped to grab a coffee but instead of your usual caramel latte you also grabbed an iced americano for your new co worker. You manager had informed you last week that you were going to be getting a new desk partner. They wouldn’t tell you who or why, but when you walked into work with your coffees in hand you found out exactly why.

Yoongi was sitting in the seat next to yours, already typing away at his computer. He was fulfilling his military service as a social service agent and apparently was being moved to your department. You had a feeling it had something to do with a recent incident of his, but you weren’t going to bring that up to find out for sure.

You dropped the coffee down in front of him but before you could even speak he looked up and rolled his eyes.

“Great, this is exactly what I need right now.”, he grumbled.

“Hello to you too.”, you spat back feeling hurt.

The worst part of this whole entire thing was that you had fallen in love with him many many lives ago. His smile always melted your heart. He had beautiful eyes and a deep voice that would give you goosebumps. You always had a thing for the cold heartless guy who still had a soft spot and that fit Yoongi perfectly in every life. Unfortunately he never felt the same about you.

“Y/N…let’s not even waste our time. We know it won’t happen.”

“Yoongi, why can’t you at least try? Please. I’m tired. I’m tired of spending my life looking for you, waiting for us to find each other just for you to immediately shut me down. Give me…give us a chance.”, you begged. You didn’t care that you were sounding desperate.

He ran a hand over his face, “Fine.”

“Here is the address to my place. Be there at 8pm tonight.”, he said handing you a piece of paper.

You accepted it before powering up your computer and getting the day started.

Walking into Yoongi’s place you were in awe of the size, the luxury. Even his door handle looked like it cost more than your rent and you were once again reminded that he was above you.

“I hope you still like kimchi jjigae.”, he said as he led you into the dining room.

“Of course. Sounds great.”

Dinner was going smoothly. The two of you talked, mostly he talked while you listened. His stories were much more interesting and exciting than anything you had to say. But he did ask about your job and and family and friends.

As the night came to an end you knew that you had to talk about things. Yoongi knew too. You could tell from the way that he was avoiding eye contact with you.

“Soo uh are we going to have a second date?”, you chuckled hoping to lighten the mood.

“Date? This wasn’t a date.”

You felt your heart sink.

“Then what was it? Why even ask me to come over.”

“Y/N…”, he grumbled already irritated.

“No Yoongi, why ask me to come over here? Why cook me dinner and ask me about my life? Why make me think you were actually going to give us a chance?”, you were nearing tears at this point. He took another sip of his beer before getting up to walk away from the situation.

Quickly you ran after him until you managed to step in front and stop him, “No Yoongi! You’re not running away from this…from me. Why can’t you just give me a chance? I love you. We’re soulmates. We’re meant to be together.”

He startled you when he through his beer glass in the sink causing it to shatter.

“Fuck Y/N! I’m so sick of hearing about soulmates. Don’t you think maybe if you focused on something other than your soulmate you might actually achieve something in life. Are you content just always being a nobody that no one cares about? Y/N I don’t care if some stupid tattoo makes me your soulmate. I don’t love you. I don’t care about you. I will NEVER marry you. So move on Y/N.”

You watched as his chest moved up and down until the tears blurred your vision too much.

“B-but you’re my soulmate? Who else am I supposed to move on to?”, you whispered.

After having a few minutes to cool down he looked at you with softer eyes.

“Y/N the reason…the reason I asked you here tonight is to tell you that I’m already married.”

Your mouth dropped open, “What?!”

He nodded, “To another idol. We got married privately about a month ago. The news is going to be officially released this weekend so when I found you I decided I should tell you myself before you find out that way.”

It felt like your world was crumbling around you. “Y-you’re married? How? I’m your soulmate. Not her. Not some random woman. Me! Me Yoongi!! The person that’s been chasing after you for centuries.”

You could see the anger return to his face.

“Don’t be so dramatic Y/N. And don’t EVER talk about her like that. I don’t care what some stupid tattoo says. I love her. I love her in ways I will never feel about you. You need to move on Y/N. Find someone that makes you happy in THIS life and stop worrying about future and this soulmate bullshit.”

You stared at the floor in silence while trying to make sense of everything. You could feel him take a step closer to you.

“You know…Namjoon doesn’t believe in this soulmate shit either. Maybe I could introduce you to him if you’d like. I know he’d be good to you.”

“So what? So I guess this is the end?”, you snapped completely ignoring his offer about Namjoon.

He took a deep breath before gently pushing you towards the door., “Yeah it is. It’s just…not the right place, not the right time.“

He handed you your jacket and mentioned something about seeing if he could be transferred again, but you told him not to bother. You were putting in your resignation first thing Monday morning.

“Maybe in the next life.”, he whispered as you walked through the door without sparing him a glance. When you heard the door click shut you dropped to your knees unable to control the wave of emotions that hit you at the realization that once again you were destined to spend eternity searching and pining for the love of your soulmate.

[pepprs]

hi, everyone. i hope you all are doing well. i’ve been meaning and wanting to check in here for many months but i have also been too afraid to. but i want to do it now because im potentially at a turning point and i want you all (especially close friends and mutuals who i haven’t talked to in a long time) to know what’s going on because unfortunately i do not have the strength to reach out individually right now, as much as i desperately want to.

when i left this place a year ago my depression was extremely bad. i didn’t know how long i was going to be gone or whether i was leaving for good, but i knew i needed to make some changes in my life before i could be here healthily again. well… 2024 has been a year of IMMENSE change for me! a lot of it has been for the good. i made some progress in my life by moving out, and i’ve had a lot of joy and healing in (very slowly) building a home for myself and figuring out what kind of life i want to live and how i want to live it. (im learning how to drive! i have string lights and stuffed animals and a wii! i am capable of solo travel!)

but… a lot of the changes that have happened this year have been for the worse. in almost every respect 2024 has been one of the most difficult and painful years of my life (and that is saying something!). this year a couple of traumatic things have happened to me and around me, and it has been extremely hard to live my life despite and beyond them. i have been dealing with physical and mental health issues that have greatly impacted my quality of life and make it unbearably difficult for me to get through every day. i am constantly running on negative spoons. one of the most damaging outcomes of this is that i have almost completely withdrawn from society both online and off and that is not an exaggeration. ive stopped talking to all of my friends and family except for people i see every day at work. i impulsively isolate myself when im in pain / distress despite knowing both emotionally and logically that it makes literally everything worse and i don’t know how to (and often can’t muster the mental strength to) work through the shame and grief and anxiety to seek connection and support. and im struggling to take care of myself including physically and its having severe consequences in every aspect of my life and in the lives of people who care about me. i live alone and i still think that was the good and right choice for me to make, but i am profoundly and agonizingly lonely. my depression was extremely bad when i left here, but i think despite everything it might be even worse now.

all of this is to say: this week i finally decided i can’t suffer like this anymore, and i began the process of seeking a formal diagnosis for my depression and other mental health issues and exploring additional treatment beyond talk therapy (most likely meds but there may be other things too / instead; still at the very beginning stages of figuring it all out). i am extremely anxious about many dimensions of this but also hopeful that it will help me hurt less because when i tell you at this point my brain and heart physically ache from depression like 85% of every day…. lol. im really hoping that once i get my mental / emotional pain under control i’ll be able to start tending to the parts of my life that have withered while ive suffered and repair the damage of my neglect as best i can. (which is to say… if you’re my friend and you’re reading this please know i love you and i miss you terribly and i am so sorry we haven’t spoken and i am so sorry im telling you this in a tumblr post you may not even read instead of a reply or a call back. i still love you and i want you to know it is not you specifically i am ghosting, its everyone. i am trying to build the strength and im scared i can’t but i hope i can.)

that said… i have decided i am not going to be coming back to this blog. i miss this place and the community i felt connected to here, but the way i was using this website as a public diary was extremely unhealthy, and as much as i miss it and still crave the instant comfort/validation i see clearly now with months of distance how damaging it was. (i truly cannot believe i was oversharing like that lol i am so private now (yes due largely to mental illness but still!)) i am so grateful to everyone who reassured me when i was struggling and celebrated my successes. this was the first place, online or off, where i (misguidedly but it’s true!) could actually be honest and candid about things happening in my life and my reactions to them instead of communicating it all through metaphors in my art and poetry, and it truly mattered that i had that experience here so that i could seek out more spaces like it in my offline life. i know i already said thank you in a previous update but really… thank you. 💗🫂

im not planning on deleting this blog. i may come back here and share updates like this one from time to time, but otherwise i will leave it as it is. but… i do want to get back to using a few of my fandom-centered sideblogs because looking at and compiling art of things i like is a low-energy thing that makes me happy! so you may see activity there every once in a while (tbh during this hiatus i have opened tumblr from time to time to look at art and save a bunch of posts that i wanted to reblog eventually lol). but… if i notice myself slipping back into bad habits i may private the sideblogs or abandon them completely.

i don’t know how to end this post. actually wait yes i do. one of my all time favorite artists is anna-laura sullivan (@/annalaura_art on instagram) and this is one of my all time favorite drawings of hers (so much so that i made it my lock screen so i can look at it every day!). this saying has brought me a lot of comfort and i hope it (and her other art) will bring you comfort too if you’re also in a dark place.

one more thing: not to be kind of a freak but in writing this post i discovered a longer version of my goodbye post from last year in my drafts. i don’t remember why i didn’t post it and obviously it’s outdated now but i want to share the draft because i went into more detail about tumblr having been helpful for me specifically when it comes to my mutuals + info / disclaimers about how to reach me and i want you guys to hear that in my past self’s voice lol! i put it under the cut if you want to read it!

2023 tess said it best: i hope you know how much it’s meant to me to be in your company. thank you for sharing and thank you for listening. i love you. happy [almost] new year. be well. good luck. shine bright. until we meet again ☕️🐈🫂💗

[cybershock24601]

The Rookanis brainworms got me again bc I’ve gone from wouldn’t it be funny if my Rook and Lucanis crossed paths for a moment before Veilguard and never realized it to formulating a whole au where Rook and Lucanis had a long distance friendship that just started to turn into something more right before Rook gets kicked out of the mourn watch and Lucanis gets stuck in the Ossuary. Rook writes like three letters to try and make extra sure that Lucanis knows what happened and that she’s going to be traveling and likely won’t be able to get any letters but she will write when she’s able to so she’s not super concerned when she doesn’t hear anything from him even if she does have a lot of anxiety about the situation she’s doing her best to bury because sure they’re both busy but surely Lucanis would try to get at least one letter to her, she did tell him that he could always leave a message with Myrna and Vorgoth to pass on, why hasn’t he sent her anything??

Meanwhile Lucanis is imprisoned in the Ossuary and all of Watcher Rook’s babbling about spirits had made it easier to deal with Spite but it’s still a very shitty situation. Spite’s probably even more fixated on Rook in this au because Lucanis wants to get out for a lot of reasons and see his family too but Rook’s probably the only person Lucanis wants to see again that he doesn’t have a lot of complicated emotions about because sure the whole long distance thing isn’t a neat situation, Rook doesn’t come with the same sort of emotional baggage Caterina and Illario have.

Anyways, the events of Veilguard happen and Neve suggests they go recruit the Demon of Vyrantium and Rook’s like sure and hopes that while in Antiva she might get a chance to track down her wayward crow. Rook does not know that the famed Demon of Vyrantium is her crow because it’s not like Lucanis ever really told her exactly who he was in the Crows. Rook knew he was a crow, had a complicated relationship with his grandma and cousin, and that Lucanis tended to play a lot of things close to the chest but seeing as Rook is also from a pretty secretive organization, she was never really that bothered by it because it’s not like she doesn’t have her own secrets to keep. Rook may like Lucanis but it’s not like she’s going to be spilling the secrets of the Necropolis to him and assumes Lucanis is dealing with the same thing which for the most part is true. It’s also that Lucanis liked just being Lucanis with Rook rather than Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium and didn’t want things to change with Rook if he told her about what exactly his position in the Crows was. Honestly Rook probably wouldn’t have cared that much beyond hitting him with a ‘that’s rough buddy’ and probably encouraging him to try to say no to his grandmother more. (“Have you tried telling her no? It’s just two letters. One syllable. It shouldn’t be that hard to say!”)

Which is a good thing because when Rook goes to meet with the Crows she’s starting to put the pieces together pretty quickly about who Lucanis is to the crows once she meets the talons + Illario and is doing her best to play it cool. Rook’s attempts at composure are not helped by being hit with the double whammy of her kinda boyfriend is dead no wait actually he’s alive he’s just been in the hands of the Venitori for a year. Which is totally not going to give Rook a guilt complex about the fact that her bf has been presumed dead for year and Rook didn’t even know.

Neve and Harding who came along to recruit their assassin (because this is my au and I can have a four person party if I want) are definitely noticing something is up but don’t get a chance to pump answers out an unusually quiet Rook (a quiet Rook is never a good sign) before they find Lucanis and are witness to the most emotionally charged yet emotionally stunted reunion they’ve ever seen. Neve and Harding are definitely trading glances between them like ‘are you seeing this shit?!’ as Rook and Lucanis have the most awkward reunion ever.

Rook is dealing with a lot of new information at once and a lot of guilt over the fact that she didn’t know her boyfriend was supposedly dead and had just been worried that maybe he didn’t like her anymore and would she ever have even found out what happened to Lucanis if she didn’t need his help to kill some ancient eleven gods? She’s even more guilty about the fact that he’s been trapped and tortured for a whole year and again Rook did not know!

Lucanis on the other hand is increadibly surprised to see Rook of all people in the Ossuary and almost thinks it’s some sort of dream that’s she’s in here rescuing him because how many times has he imagined something like that? He’s also dealing with a Spite who’s extra determined to talk to Rook and also the whole fact that he’s an abomination now and has a lot of feelings about that.

The first exchange between these two lovers goes something like this “you have a beard now. it looks.. nice.” “thank you? I didn’t really have a chance to shave in here” “that makes sense” cue awkward silence. Luckily Neve and Harding are there to get things back on track. Somewhat.

Anyways, the slow burn of the canon rookanis romance becomes two people learning to reconnect and navigate a very complex tangle of emotions after everything that happened in their year apart. Might write a fic about all this but I needed to get my idea out in the world one way or another.

Other au highlights include:

Rook and Lucanis met because Lucanis had to assassinate a mortalitasi and is sneaking in through the garden while Rook is there decompressing after dealing with the asshole and they both freeze. Lucanis is trying to decided whether he has to kill her and Rook just goes “guy you’re looking for is two floors up and three rooms to the right. good luck” Lucanis is like why are helping me to which Rook responds “this is the fourth time in as many weeks I’ve had to come deliver the same letter of censure to this guy for trying to supersede the royal charter and have to take time out of my day to come out here one more time I’m going start biting people. you’d really just be doing a public service getting rid of this guy”

Lucanis is the reason Rook switched to fighting with an arcane orb rather than a more traditional staff and helped her a lot with close quarters combat. He also gifted her a spellblade and was almost surprised that giving someone a knife worked.

The knife also tipped off Caterina that whoever this rando showing up to ask the Crows for help has some connection to Lucanis because of course Caterina would recognize the work of her grandson’s favorite blacksmith.

Illario only found out his cousin was involved with someone after Lucanis “died” and ended up going through his things because sure Illario might have ordered his death but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it. Hidden under the floorboards is a small elegant lockbox filled with letters and a wyvern tooth dagger and Illario had a whole lot of feelings reading them and the slow transition from letters to love letters. Illario doesn’t realize it’s Rook though because Rook wasn’t going by Rook back then and was signing her letters with her government name.

[ragnarokhound]

kon and jason form a bond over the fact that both of them have a crush on tim and tim is oblivious about it. they still hate each other, obviously, but it's nice to get drunk with someone who understands, you know? except after nearly half a year of occasionally getting drunk and bitching about tim, they hook up. and then they keep on hooking up. but really they both want tim! which is about when tim walks in on them.

anon. anon i am taking you by the shoulders. this is beautiful to me. do you get how much I love the 'i love him not you, but he's not here and besides, you're the only other bitch around who i'd trust him with /derogatory' and how good that is for jaykon(tim)??? dO YOU??? (the mutual mutual pining. the pact between two people who both know who they're actually in love with. the potential for a True love triangle to form. slow burn in one direction, enemies to friends to lovers in another. i'm feral over this)

The first time it happened, it was completely by accident.

Neither of them could really be held accountable, so neither of them could really blame each other. No matter how much Jason would like to blame the superclone for literally everything that transpired, always and forever, it can’t be helped. There’s no one at fault but good old Jack Daniels. Jason hadn’t even known supers could get drunk, but maybe that’s Kon’s human half at work. Or maybe he laces it with kryptonite dust or neurotoxin or whatever. Jason doesn’t really give a fuck how Kon gets his kicks. He just knows that the two of them are the only motherfuckers who get it— and while that doesn’t make them friends by any means, it definitely makes them de facto drinking buddies. They are united by one thing, and one thing only: a horrific, embarrassing, deeply acute, and likely terminal attraction to one Timothy Jackson Drake. Yeah. They know. One unlikely team up on a mission gone wrong was all it took for Jason and Kon to reach an understanding.

From Tim’s disappointed scowling every time they bickered to the easy way he trusted both of them to manhandle him in the name of the greater good, soon enough, Jason had gone from glaring daggers in the superclone’s direction to trading pained, commiserating looks every time Tim twisted himself into a pretzel right in front of them. Which he did surprisingly often. Jason would call it suspiciously often if Tim weren’t the most oblivious, rizzless dumbass on the planet. He only has game when he isn’t trying. Unfortunately for both Jason and Kon, he definitely is not trying. By the end of that week, Kon had gone from threatening to throw Jason into space to wordlessly offering sad fist bumps every time Tim missed yet another thinly veiled come on. From either of them. (Tim thought they were finally bonding over bad jokes and kept laughing and booing in their faces.) Clown to clown communication at its finest. After the week was up and they were all set to go their separate ways, Jason shot his shot one last time, inviting Tim (and Kon by proxy) out for drinks. Tim politely declined, citing all the paperwork he’d need to fill out for the Titans that Jason had been fully intending to sidestep anyway— like fuck he’s ever touching another incident report in his life— but to Jason’s surprise, Kon took him up on it. The two of them had hit the bar, and by the third round of drinks they were both swapping Tim-stories and finally clearing the air about the finer details of that ass. The rest is unlikely history. Don’t get Jason wrong, they still hate each other’s guts. It changes from bitch-sesh to bitch-sesh, but by the end of the night Kon will have threatened something like snapping Jason’s fingers or lasering his face off, and Jason will have responded with something like an eye roll and asking him if he’d like a hunk of kryptonite to choke on. Only, the first time it happened, too many glasses of whiskey and one meandering walk from the bar to Jason’s closest safehouse later, Kon’s eyes had shuttered, dark and blue and nothing like the eyes either of them actually wanted, and said, “No, but I think I’d like to choke you on my dick. You game?” And, well. What was Jason supposed to do, but grin knife-sharp and mean and say— “I’d love to see you try.”

[dogpawsswapgod]

CaitVi love scene extended

never in my life have i written fanfic but the CaitVi love scene in Arcane season 2 left much to be desired so i just wrote it myself.

CaitVi gentle smut below the cut.

“I’m sorry to say you’re getting a bit predictable,” Cait smiled warmly, a playful flirtiness in her eyes despite the stakes, despite everything.

In that look, Vi saw a glimmer of a future she never thought possible. Tears welled in her eyes and she felt her heart beating thru every inch of her body as she reached out, unthinkingly, pulling Cait into her and covering her lips with desperate kisses.

Cait, surprised, let this happen, closing her eyes and thinking “Here is as good a place as any, it doesn’t matter where. It only matters that it’s her,”

She pulled back suddenly, a pang of guilt pulsing thru her.

“Uh, while you were gone, I, erm, saw someone…” she confessed, a little sheepish.

“Cait,” Vi was looking into her, reaching out for her again, “I don’t fucking care!”

Vi’s hands were rarely unwrapped as they were now, holding Cait’s face close to her’s as they kissed. They were rough, bloodied from whatever surface they’d last collided with, the cell wall most likely, or some Enforcer’s jaw… Cait stepped back again, this time, pulling her turtleneck over her head in one quick motion. Vi stood stunned for a moment. Cait’s slight shoulders, milky and so clean. The kind of clean only a lifetime in the uppercrust of Piltover would allow for in such a polluted world. Her breasts were small and inviting, the nipples large and brown and perked up with the chill of the drafty cell and the excitement of what was about to happen. While Vi gawked, Cait began unfastening Vi’s undershirt. It fell away revealing her hard core and vanishingly small breasts, also strangely unwrapped tonight. She was covered all over with bruises, scars, grime that doesn’t really ever wash away. Vi reached two fingers forward and touched for the first time a new part of Cait, the soft skin just below her collar bone. She slid these fingers down and caressed one paunchy nipple. Cait, in turn, reached a regretful hand toward the bandage on Vi’s side, stroking it gently before Vi gripped her arm, almost too hard, and pulled her into her once more.

Their kissing grew more frantic, their hands caressed one other and they giggled and smiled between smooches as Vi struggled a moment to unclip Cait’s belt. After two or three tries, she succeeded, and slid her rough-palmed hand beneath the fabric and around to the soft, round fat of Cait’s ass. Sliding the other hand in and back, Vi lowered herself little by little, leaving small kisses down Cait’s belly while sliding her uniform down to her ankles. Vi looked up a moment with eyes asking a silent question, and Cait, looking down, answered wordlessly, yes.

Vi breathed in deep, filling her lungs with the sweetest, cleanest scent she’d ever known. Before her, a small, dense clump of deep blue hair gave off the delicate aroma of brine. She smelled like sweat and the seaside. Vi breathed again, then parted her lips to give Cait their second first kiss.

Cait, pressed by Vi’s warm, hard body against the cool, dry stones of the cell wall, felt as Vi’s lips made contact with hers, and felt as Vi’s tongue, hot and hardened, pushed thru them, finding her clit, half erect and wanting. She gasped, loudly, her head lolling back and her eyes closing. Vi began firmly stroking into Cait with her practiced tongue. She was deliberate and patient, working a gentle rhythm as Cait’s hips responded to her lips and tongue. Cait exhaled, falling forward and grasping Vi’s hair in both hands, a first quiet moan escaping her throat.

Hearing this, Vi peered up once more to see the Enforcer’s face looming close. Vi’s hands moved fast, up and around Cait’s slight hips and thighs, pulling them onto each of her tattooed shoulders. Slowly, without stopping her deep kiss, Vi began to stand. Wrapping her legs around Vi’s head, still clinging to her greasy pink locks with both hands, Cait felt herself being lifted. She opened her eyes, feeling the stone scraping against her naked back as Vi slid her up the wall, still expertly probing and exploring with her tongue and lips, nipping here and there with her teeth. 

Vi continued to rise with Cait on her shoulders. Cait was looking now over the top of the cell door, which she’d left open. It was swinging slowly outward into an empty hall. The prison had been nearly emptied since the attack from within, and with the guards all stationed at the Hexgates–meant only to allow Vi the chance to go to her sister, whatever may have come of that–the two women were alone on this level, and free to take their time and make their noise. 

Cait knew this had been a risk, that leaving the way clear for Vi to come to Jinx meant the possibility of never seeing Vi again. There was something between the Enforcer and the ex-con from the Undercity, but Cait had known that Vi’s love for her sister was her first love, and so had accepted that meant Cait might come in second following Vi and Jinx’s meeting here in this cell. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take, it was what she had to do for Vi, because Cait loved her. Loves her. So when she walked down here tonight she expected only to find an empty cell, and held out no hope for a happier ending than that. But there stood Vi, her back turned to her as when they’d first met. 

Cait closed her eyes again as Vi’s hands gripped her thighs and her tongue pushed past her clit deep into her. She gasped, and Vi pushed harder.

Vi’s hands found their way up Cait’s back, and, pulling her away from the wall, gripped her around the middle, Cait bracing herself against Vi’s thick, strong forearms, the top of her head nearly brushing the ceiling of the cell  as Vi stood, her back straight, sturdy, and strong in the center of it, her lover aloft on her wide shoulders, her head tilted back and her mouth buried deep into the center of this woman she loves. 

“She tastes…” Vi thought, and the thought gave way to the flavor itself. Cait’s wetness was sweet, her thighs pressed hard against either side of Vi’s head and the deepness of her pulled Vi in, squeezing around her tongue and enticing her inward. Vi needed to be deeper inside, and fast. Her own clit was throbbing and aching with it, and blood was pounding in her ears, which Cait’s thighs were squeezing ever tighter. 

For a minute, Vi winced, thinking that if this had happened at any other time, in any other place, she would have her prosthetic at hand. She could strap it on quickly, and it provided a deep, haptic feedback typical of prosthetics made in the Undercity. It was adjustable, so she could give Cait what she wanted, no more, no less. Following what she could only assume was tampering by Jinx who must have found it during one of their brief parlays, it could even be made to rumble and vibrate and bump with music while being used.

Alas, this was happening here, now, and Vi didn’t regret that. If they survived tomorrow’s battle, there would be other chances to play with this toy, to feel each other in this way. For now, Vi would make do with her mitts, like always.

The brawler knew it was time to take this to the mat. Gripping tightly around Cait’s slim waist, Vi unleashed a modified suplex, quickly but gently bringing them both to the cold stone floor, Vi padding Cait’s landing with her arms cradled under her back, her hands stabilizing her head. In one deft, quick motion, Vi brought them from standing, Cait stacked on Vi’s shoulders, down to the ground. 

Cait opened her eyes, surprised, and Vi’s smiling face swam into view. Cait placed two soft palms on either side of it, and pulled her close, tasting her own salt sweetness on Vi’s lips as they kissed again. They lay like this for a moment, kissing deeply, breathing loudly thru their noses as they did, soft whimpers and moans escaping each of them. Slowly, Vi slid a hand from Cait’s plum-sized breast, down her soft belly, back toward her warm, now very wet middle. Pulling back from their kiss, a small string of saliva stretching, then breaking as she did, Vi looked deep into Cait’s eyes as she slid the first finger inside her.

Cait’s mouth curled into a slight smile as she held Vi’s gaze. Vi, taking the hint, slid a second, then a third finger inside, and felt as Cait responded reflexively, gripping the tugging on her long, hard fingers, as if to pull them in deeper. They held each other's gaze, pressing their foreheads together and breathing raggedly into eachothers open mouths as Vi worked gently in and out. The prison, usually a din of swearing inmates and bickering guards, was quiet except for the pulse of their deepening breaths and the soft, wet sound of Vi massaging her right hand into Cait.

Once she’d slipped in four fingers past the knuckles, she paused, gently nuzzling Cait’s chin with her nose, still moist from their deep kiss. Cait, lifting her head, pressed her lips into Vi’s saying “more…”

Vi closed her eyes and, pressing her thumb into her palm, pushed her whole hand into Cait up to the wrist, eliciting a sharp gasp, followed by more squeezing and drawing in from deep inside.

Vi’s knuckles, bloodied with cuts that never heal, burned in the vaguely acidic chamber of her lover’s body. She relished it–a pain sweeter than any she’d ever known. A balm for her sore, bruised knuckles that she knew only Cait could provide. Vi paused for a moment, overwhelmed by what was happening. Her hands were weapons. Hard fists for punishing cocky trenchers, deadly tools for causing pain, yet here she was, wrist deep inside an Enforcer of Piltover who was moaning and quivering with the pleasure of it. 

Vi curled her fingers into a fist and pushed deeper. Cait responded by spreading her legs wide and bearing down onto Vi’s advancing fist–not a weapon now, but a lover’s hungry touch. Vi opened her fist once more, turned her hand slightly within, and set into a rhythm, in and out, rocking Cait back and forth, her perfect breasts splayed to either side of her narrow chest, bobbing with the rhythm. 

Sweat beads dripped from Vi’s forehead onto Cait’s lips as they rocked into one another for how long, they weren’t sure. Their eyes fluttered open and closed, their lips found each other again and again in wet, loud smacking kisses. Cait opened her mouth and began to moan loudly, steadily, as Vi worked her hand inside of her, removing her thumb to rub the now-rock hard clit here and there and intensify the sensations of their coupling.

Vi, still dressed from the waist down, was soaked thru with sweat, the crotch of her trousers made doubly wet by her arousal. Cait slipped her fingers under the hem of Vi’s pants, teasingly tickling the tuft of hair that trailed upward from her mons, but went no further.

“She’s toying with me,” thought Vi, “i’d hate it if it wasn’t so fucking hot,” and she worked harder to please Cait, opened her eyes and drank in the sight of her, nude, milk white, spread out on the gray stone floor of one of her prison cells, a trencher’s deadly fist pushing and pulling screams of pleasure from her. Vi slowed her rhythm, sensing that Cait was close. 

Suddenly, Cait gripped Vi around the neck, arching her back, squeezing her eyes firmly closed. Vi felt the tell-tale pulse travel from deep within Cait, down along the length of Vi’s hand to her wrist. Cait’s lips curled back, exposing her white teeth, the little gap between the two front ones the only “imperfection” her upper class Piltover upbringing had allowed her to keep. Cait was beautiful, but this little imperfection made her stunning. Vi was suddenly stricken with how in love with this woman she was. 

Vi moved her face close and curled her fingers one more time into a fist while Cait rocked forward and let out a low, loud moan. Her strong, slim body trembled, the part of her gripping Vi’s fist tightly shaking and spasming wildly. Vi pressed her open mouth to Cait’s to drink in her wail, and felt her own body quivering with little bursts of intensity followed by a floods of relief; Cait’s orgasm strong enough to inspire half a dozen little ones between Vi’s legs.

One last string of spasm rocked thru Cait and around Vi’s softening fist before she felt the Enforcer melt into the floor, limp and exhausted, Vi’s hand slipping easily out into the cold air of the cell.

Cait lay a moment motionless, felt Vi’s wet, warm hand grip her thigh, then gently pinch her chin. Opening her eyes, Cait first saw a blurry gray of the ceiling of the cell, then a flash of pink, then her lover’s eyes, looking into her’s.

“You ok?” Vi’s voice shook a little, betraying her excitement.

“Nothing is ok right now,” Cait said, suddenly serious again. Then, softening, she took Vi’s face into her hands once more, and kissed her more sweetly, a kiss that sealed things, that made clear that this wasn’t a fluke or a one time thing.

“We might both die tomorrow,” Cait continued, their lips still close.

“Well, don’t sugarcoat it, cupcake!” Vi replied, resting her head on Cait’s chest. Laying like this, Vi could hear the steady beating of Cait’s heart, slowing gradually as they came down from the excitement of what had happened.

“No, I just mean… We could both die tomorrow. Any number of things could happen tomorrow. But tonight,” she paused again, and Vi looked up at her, a pair of powder blue eyes, watery and warm. Cait pushed her fingers into the oily pink hair and smiled.

“Tonight, we got to be who we really are to each other,” Cait finished. “I don’t want to die, but if I do, it’s not so bad. Bc I got to have you,”

Vi heard the unspoken words. Cait heard them too. They could feel “I love you” hanging between them, unsaid, but deeply felt. They might not get their chance to speak it after tomorrow, yet there was no urgency to say it now.

They settled in, wrapping their arms around each other, drifting in and out of light sleeps. After a while, Cait raised her head a little, Vi was chuckling.

“And what’s funny?” she asked

“Nothing,” answered Vi, “It’s just… I told you the Undercity would eat you alive!”

[mothgodofchaos]

Terror

Damien is absolutely a scaredy cat and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. Also the irony is not lost on me for the reasoning for hating horror movies.

Damien x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 583

Damien sees you sifting through DVDs on the couch and he groans, wiping his face with his hand.

“It is that day, gosh darn it…”

“Mhmm. You promised!”

“And I am starting to wish I had not…”

He had promised to watch one horror movie with you, which is more than you thought you were going to get from him considering how much he hates horror. You’re not going to be cruel about it since you don’t really want to psychologically scar him, but it’s going to be a little scary. You flip through your DVD binders, looking for a B-rated movie, or something that will hopefully get more laughs than actual scares. 

“Why do you hate horror movies so much?”

“Darling, I saw Jekyll and Hyde when it came out, and after that I decided it was not for me. Not to mention I was not particularly a fan of the idea of one man having an inner battle between two people on whether to be a hero and save people, or a villain that harms innocents.”

“Well, alright. Here, this one didn’t get great reviews and should be a little funny. Ease you into horror.”

Damien sighs with relief.

“I appreciate you not throwing me into the deep end, dearheart.”

“Why would I? I’m hoping this won’t be the only time you’ll watch one of these with me!”

“Oh dear…”

You stand up and give him a quick kiss, putting the DVD into the video player. After the player whirs to life, you return to the couch, throwing a blanket over your legs as Damien sits next to you. On the table is a small spread of snacks, and you pull the bowl of popcorn into your lap. Damien puts a blanket around his shoulders, trying to relax into the couch cushions. His arm rests over your shoulders, and you can feel how tense his muscles are against your skin.

“Deep breaths, Damien. I’ll turn it off if you get too scared.”

“No… I am a grown man. I just- dislike uncanny humanoids…”

“Well you’re not alone, otherwise they wouldn’t use it as the premise for the movie.”

“Fair enough.”

As the movie continues, you hold one of his hands in yours while he uses the other to occasionally hide behind, peeking between his fingers. All things considered, the occasional chuckle at the jokes eases your chances of convincing him into another movie. You do eventually get him to lay his head in your lap, combing your fingers through his hair and turning his head away from the screen when something scary happens on screen, pulling his focus back to you. He opens his mouth for you to drop popcorn in, and he laughs as you comply.

“If this is the treatment I receive just for participating in a scary movie night, perhaps I can be convinced into a second date.”

“Oh can you now?”

“Unless I start shaking in terror at the spooks on screen, I will be alright.”

Damien takes your hand and presses kisses to each of your knuckles, resting your palm against his lips as his attention turns back to the screen. You feel him jump and hide under the blanket as a jumpscare happens, and you can’t help but laugh a little bit as you calm him down again with some scalp scratches. 

“Alright, the monster’s gone, Dames.”

“I dislike the scares immensely.”

“That’s not terribly surprising considering you’re hiding under the blanket right now.”

“Technicalities.”

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

two of my dogs are getting on in years and the other has arthritis so it’s not that i wasn’t expecting something to happen but fuck can it please not happen now

[trash-bin-ary]

I can go on that ramble about the future and housing and aromanticism though now. It’s like man, the future is already something that is so inconceivable to me. To then have the sexuality that does not allow me to slot in the cookie cutter you find a romantic partner that you end up moving in with is terrible. And like In this economy I sure can’t live alone, and I know at least when I’m sick I desperately want someone to be there. And then there’s I’m likely to move around a bunch how do you deal with that housing, other than the work having paid housing. like constantly having to find somewhere that’s looking for roommates and it isn’t terrible? And then long term, when I find a job I stay at for a while (that’s remote so I’d love to live in a remote place) is it like I find a place to stay and then I’m stuck there forever and I just have to hope that I make good friends at this new place. (Friends that don’t want to live exclusively with a romantic partner no less.) I want to live with close friends so bad and I’m not sure if that’s a feasible thing for my future. I’m a person that has so much hope so I have to assume that yes it will work out, I do believe that. But man just hearing someone mention it, sparks that hope.

[non-un-topo]

Why does instagram keep giving me videos about grandparents like does it want me to fall on the floor sobbing today