#but its a damn good story. i think about it all the time

[tinkaaabutt]

NOVACANE.—~ sevika

Novacane

The city was alive in its usual way—neon lights glowing faintly through the haze of smog, the muffled roar of distant traffic merging with the hum of a bassline from the club next door. Sevika sat in the corner of your dimly lit apartment, her broad frame leaning back in your worn-out armchair, a freshly rolled blunt perched between her fingers.

“You always keep it this quiet in here?” she asked, her raspy voice cutting through the stillness.

You smirked from your spot on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest as you fiddled with your lighter. “Sometimes. Depends on the company.”

Sevika snorted, a low, amused sound. “Guess I don’t count as ‘company.’”

“You’re here all the time,” you teased, lighting your own blunt and inhaling deeply. The sharpness hit your lungs, and you exhaled slowly, watching the smoke swirl in the low light. “Might as well start charging you rent.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like having me here,” she said, her tone laced with a confidence that made you roll your eyes.

She wasn’t wrong, though.

The two of you had an unspoken routine—a rhythm that neither of you had bothered to name. Sevika would show up after her shifts at the club, smelling faintly of sweat, cheap beer, and cigar smoke. You’d sit together, swapping stories, sharing a high, letting the world outside melt away for a while.

Tonight was no different.

Frank Ocean’s “Novacane” played softly from the speaker on the coffee table, the dreamy beat filling the silence between your words. The haze of smoke in the room blurred the sharp edges of Sevika’s features, but her presence still felt grounding, solid in a way nothing else did.

She watched you through half-lidded eyes as you leaned back against the couch, your dark skin glowing faintly under the light of a neon lamp in the corner.

“You always look so damn calm,” she muttered, taking a long drag from her blunt.

You glanced at her, raising a brow. “And you always look so damn tense.”

She chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. “Touché.”

The high hit slowly, creeping in like a wave lapping at your ankles before pulling you under. The room felt heavier, warmer, like time had slowed to a crawl. You let your head fall back against the couch, closing your eyes as the music wrapped around you.

“You good over there?” Sevika’s voice cut through the fog, grounding you.

You opened one eye, smirking. “I’m floating.”

She grinned, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. The movement made the light catch on her prosthetic arm, the polished metal gleaming faintly. “Not bad, huh?”

“This stuff’s strong,” you said, holding up your blunt. “Where’d you even get it?”

“Friend of a friend,” she replied, her smirk widening. “Let’s just say it’s a little extra.”

You laughed, the sound lazy and light. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Nah,” she said, her tone softer now. “I like having you around too much.”

You froze for a moment, caught off guard by the way her voice dipped, the way her eyes lingered on you like you were something worth looking at.

“Don’t start getting sappy on me, Sev,” you teased, trying to mask the warmth creeping up your neck.

She shrugged, taking another drag and exhaling slowly. “Can’t help it. You make it easy.”

The song shifted, the beat growing heavier, more surreal. You felt yourself sinking deeper into the haze, the room around you blurring until it was just you and Sevika, the space between you charged with something unspoken.

“You ever think about how none of this feels real?” you asked suddenly, your voice quieter now.

Sevika’s brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

You gestured vaguely, your fingers brushing against the air. “Life. Everything. It’s like… we’re all just going through the motions, waiting for something to wake us up.”

She leaned back, her eyes never leaving yours. “And what do you think would wake you up?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered her question. “I don’t know. Something that feels… different. Real.”

Her gaze softened, the sharpness you were so used to seeing in her melting away. She reached out then, her fingers brushing yours as she took the blunt from your hand.

“You ever think,” she said, her voice low, “that maybe this—right here, right now—is real enough?”

Your breath caught, the weight of her words settling in your chest. The haze around you seemed to thicken, but her touch felt grounding, like an anchor in the middle of a storm.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

She smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

Her words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken. You didn’t respond, but the look in her eyes told you she didn’t need you to.

The music played on, and the two of you sat there, the world outside forgotten.

authors note-: now that im thinking part 2 is gonna be based off the song sativa.’

PART2

[justmaghookit]

I've seen a lot of reviews and even casual saying that dav is "a bad dragon age game but a good action rpg" but i gotta say i...

I don't think it's a good action rpg? I think it's kinda mid?

I'm not gonna go on about the story and characters because you all already know how i feel about that. But the gameplay???

The gameplay doesn't innovate in anyway that hasn't been done before and done better by other games.

As I was playing I often turned to my partner and says "It feels like I'm playing God of War, but less fun." I remarked that Atreus was a far better combat companion than you companions in this game. That a character that was literally a CHILD was capable of taking down enemies on his own where the supposed Heros of the Veilguard cannot.

I felt like I was doing all this combat alone and the only thing my companions where good for was combos and occasional heals. I saw my partner desperately struggling to play as a ranged mage because there really are no dedicated tank options to pull enemy agro and the ones you DO get are inefficient. If you want to feel like a powerful ranged character you literally have to go into the combat settings and turn enemy agro DOWN.

The gameplay is also hurt by trimming the party down to a total of three instead of four.

Maybe I'm just a tactical games pilled bitch but i think to do away with those parts of DA entirely have hurt it. I think letting Rook use the dagger to access all your companions abilities was a mistake.

You SHOULD have to go back and switch your companions out to access hidden areas! And the maps should be flavoured in such a way that the companion who calls them home should be able to flex more when on their home turf!

"ooooh but its tedious" i hear you cry

and i cry back "i don't think you actually enjoy rpg's!!"

Personally I find a game holding my hand and going "its ok sweetie we did away with all those hard gameplay decisions for you" beyond insulting!

the repetitive enemy hordes, the copy and paste mage boss fights, the environmental puzzles that aren't really puzzles because you have the master key in your back pocket! You don't have to think about your party composition because everyone can heal and they're only useful for combos really because their damage output fucking sucks.

Honestly it just adds to the feeling that Rook is shouldering everything on their own, even though the game repeatedly tells you you aren't!! Look at all your friends helping!! Aren't they cool and strong and powerful? Best in their fields!!

And i go "really? i don't see it"

Your gameplay isn't good when every time I'm fighting a new repetitive horde of enemies all I could find myself thinking was

"Damn I should play BG3 again." Or "Man I should play God of War again."

And of course the always in the back of my mind "I wish i was playing Bloodborne"

[the-algebra-thing]

the misogyny deal that I'm hearing about with the lesbian ship being endgame and everybody now discarding them and being more invested in the straight ship or the gay one is like. god like i get it I do. it is tragic it feels wrong. it's so fucked up that everyone is going utterly insane over jayvik and caitvi is kinda in the dust. we literally scored a show with a central lesbian relationship that is fully canon and in theory this should be insane and awesome, and in some ways it is, but it's somehow not nearly as exciting as it was supposed to be. and I don't think the misogyny is completely on the viewers, if at all.

the reason that people are not as invested in it now as they were in season one is because the writing ended up accomplishing basically nothing solid in the whole damn show, and there were no through lines to latch onto that had meaningful or new themes attached, and so now everybody is flailing for anything to grasp onto. and they just didn't write caitvi in season 2 to be a good handhold. they started a lot of cool things with them and then changed direction in the middle, maybe even several times, and I also feel like the fuckass end to jinx's storyline and involvement (which I have plenty of thoughts about that I shan't get into here) kind of wrecked anything they would've been able to salvage from it. it just wasn't written in a way that is easy to parse or navigate—the ship OR the show in its entirety.

and so people are reaching for the easiest things to latch onto: timebomb had a simple, straightforward storyline and tragic ending, and it was pretty cute I guess. jayvik had one of the most central storylines to the narrative, was supremely gay, and did the howl's moving castle thing. I'm sure you can see which of the camps I'm closer to LMAO but like. caitlyn and vi DID have lesbian sex in a prison cell and I think that was very important, and they had some other concrete things going for them, but beyond that?? they're still alive and together but now they're kind of physically and mentally destroyed, and grieving, and for what. what was their story even about. what was the theme here; what were we trying to say with this. that oppressed people and cops can get married to each other and we should be happy about it?? like I dont get it; it didn't DO anything. and that's why it's falling into the background. and that's not on shippers or any of us, that's on the writers, for failing lesbians Again.

a theme isn't just a word or a statement. you've got to say something new, or say something old in a new way, or point out something new in something old. none of those things happened. they just threw some characters onscreen and some of them had very meaningful relationships, but because those relationships weren't tethered securely to one of these things, they didn't stick. vi and caitlyn had nothing to stick to. I don't like it either but I think that's why this is happening. the idea about lesbians getting trampled on is still relevant, I just wouldn't blame each other so readily

[delusionalme8]

hey, i have been a fan yours since your Instagram and old tumblr days, so just wanted to pop in ask you how you've been doing? also asking for your hinny fic recs!

Hey, that's actually so cool!

It's been about three years since I stopped using that account. Unfortunately I had to study a lot to get into University and my free time has been greatly reduced. But all in all I'm fine now, thanks for asking. I hope you are too!

There are so many fics that I love that it's impossible to remember them all, so I'll try to fit some in here!

Consider that I like really everything from these authors, so I recommend you read their other fics in addition to the ones I suggest. It's totally worth it!

-Brumous by @seriouslysam8 and its prequels (my personal favourite is Backstabber). As far as I'm concerned, it's one of the best fics I've ever read and she's an amazing writer. She's on a break from Brumous at the moment, but is releasing Selcouth which is just as good in my opinion!

-7 Scandals and a Baby by @ginnyw-potter ! It's a story set during the Regency and has an incredible atmosphere around it! She's an incredible writer and has an insane creativity too. Think of any trope and 99% of the time she's already written about it lmao (if she hasn't already, she almost certainly will). Also, her Harry and Ginny are soo good. (Not a Done Deal is one of my favourites too!)

-These Cuts I Have by Melindaleo and its sequels. It's a trilogy set in the post-war period and it's a wonderful read. I just reread it for the third time and I love the way it deals with Harry's horrible childhood and the relationship he develops with the Weasleys! Read it!

-The Path From You by @takeariskao3 too! I feel stupid for only now discovering her work, but I'm spending my afternoons catching up on it all lol. It's a story full of angst and great tension building before Hinny arrives. But I love a good slow burn, I have to admit, and she wrote it so damn good! I really recommend reading it!

-An Hour of Wolves by @solvskrift ! This one is quite heavy and angsty because it deals with a particularly sensitive subject, but I think it's absolutely worth it. The worst thing is that it's about something that could have easily happened in the canon and it's horrible to think about. I love the way it is written and deals with such sensitive topics, as well as the wonderful characterization of the characters. It is a work in progress, but it is definitely worth reading because it is incredible!

These are just a few fics and I don't know how many more I'm missing, but feel free to recommend me some too!

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: good morning, my loves, how do we feel about scheduled posts all the way through the holiday? (if you're in america)

part 14: the waking nightmare

word count: 2,053

tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The morning after the fire, the air in Birmingham still carried the acrid scent of smoke and charred wood. Arthur, John, Michael, and Finn stood before the blackened husk of the bookshop, their expressions grim as they surveyed the damage. The once-cozy place, lined with stories and secrets, was now a gutted shell of ash and rubble. They didn't know what they'd find, and they didn't know where to start looking. All they could think was that, maybe, there would be something in there that survived, something they could bring back to you.

“Damn shame,” Arthur muttered, stepping through the splintered doorway. His boots crunched against debris of blistered leather and paper. "Who’d go after a bloody bookshop?"

“Someone who wanted her out of the picture,” Michael said coolly, running a hand over the soot-streaked frame of the doorway. He glanced at Finn, who remained silent, his eyes scanning the wreckage as if he could will it to yield answers. "Or they thought this was the only way to draw her out. They could've killed her."

John knelt by the remnants of a desk, brushing away ash to reveal twisted metal and scorched wood. “Whatever’s left, it’s not much,” he said with a grimace, standing and wiping his hands on his trousers. “Place is done for.”

Finn, determined, ventured further in. The steps up to your former office creaked beneath his feet. He walked through slowly, assessing each stair as the cracks from the fire revealed themselves.

When he stepped inside, his face fell to a somber frown. The chair where he once sat was withered down to bare bones. The pictures were all black and their frames cracked.

His gaze caught on a blackened drawer barely clinging to its hinges. Something about it felt off—as if it had stubbornly resisted the flames’ grasp. With effort, he pried it open, revealing a charred stack of papers, a silver pen dulled by soot, and a faded leather-bound book, its edges singed but intact. He removed the items from the drawer, and from the book, a photograph fell, landing face down on the floor.

The picture had been protected, shielded from the worst of the fire, though the edges curled slightly from the heat. Finn picked it up carefully, revealing the image of a man in a sharp suit with a dark, knowing smile. The background suggested another time, another place—your world before Birmingham and the Peaky Blinders.

“What’d you find, Finn?” Arthur asked, his voice low. Finn handed the photo to him, and Arthur studied it, his brow furrowing. “Who’s the fancy lad?”

Michael leaned over Arthur’s shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Could be a family member. Maybe, a former lover,” he said. "This was locked away, wasn’t it?"

John, who’d been sifting through another pile, turned his attention to them. “So y/n had a secret,” he said, smirking. “Don't look so surprised.”

Finn, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, said, “You think it’s why this happened? Him?”

Arthur shook his head. “I think we've learned by now not to make any assumptions about her.”

“You gonna tell him about this?” John asked, nodding to the photograph.

Arthur hesitated, his gaze lingering on the face in the picture. “He’ll need to know.”

Finn frowned, taking the photo back and slipping it carefully into his coat pocket. “We could just leave it alone. For all she knows, it burned up with the rest of this place.”

John scoffed. “Finn, someone torched this shop. Shot at her in the dark. Someone went through a lot of trouble just to rattle her.”

Michael, still surveying the remains of the office, added, “We should tell Tommy first then. I don't think we're going to find anymore answers here.”

The four of them stood for a moment longer, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. The charred remnants of you life felt like a puzzle, each piece telling a story they were only beginning to uncover.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

You woke with a twitch, your breath ragged and your body trembling. The room was dark, but there was warmth surrounding you, steady and grounding. For a moment, you couldn’t place it. Your mind was still tangled in the remnants of the nightmare that woke you. The warmth wasn't a claw from the dream. You weren't alone.

Tommy’s arms were around you, firm but not confining. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding you like he was afraid you might break but unwilling to let go. His face was close, his breath brushing against your hair.

He said your name softly, his voice cutting through the haze of fear.

You stiffened, instinctively pulling back, but he didn’t let you go entirely. His hands moved to your shoulders, anchoring you as your breathing slowed.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was rough with sleep and embarrassment. "Why are you still here?"

“You were...” he started to say, his tone calm but edged. He gently brushed the hair laced with sweat from your forehead. “You were having a nightmare. Couldn't wake you.”

You couldn't explain yourself, but the thought of him seeing you in the middle of an episode that haunted you nightly was unsettling. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the blanket.

“It was just a dream,” you whispered.

“That would be putting it lightly.”

You nodded reluctantly. “It’s nothing. They come and go.”

“Since the fire?”

“Before that,” your admitted, so softly that he could barely hear it.

Tommy’s gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might ask more. But instead, he shifted slightly, leaning closer without crowding.

“What were you dreaming about?” he whispered.

Your chest tightened at his gentle prod, a part of you wanting to lash out, to push him away before he could ask something much more invasive, but you were exhausted. The wounds were still fresh, and your mind was stretched thin. It had been that way for a long time. Any second now, and the fine, tensed wire that kept you from revealing everything would snap.

“I have no answer for you now that would satisfy your curiosity.” You desperately wanted to feel the pillow but rested your head against his shoulder, momentarily accepting the close quarters and the feeling of safety in his hold.

Tommy’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. When he did, his voice was softer than she expected. “What's his name, then?”

The simplicity of the question caught you off guard. “How could you possibly—”

“Because I see them too,” he interrupted, his tone sharper. “The ones I’ve lost. The ones I’ve killed. It doesn’t go away, y/n. Eventually, we all end up this way. Haunted. Even if it's only while we sleep.”

His honesty disarmed you, but you felt his honest comment with something more than annoyance. Tommy was showing you that he understood. That he, too, felt the weight of a hundred souls that never let him sleep without the constant reminder that they have yet to move on.

“Does it ever stop?” you asked after a long silence.

"I have yet to lie to you since we've met, and I don't plan to lie now."

Tommy's thumb gently stroked your shoulder, and it brought comfort to the aching throb beneath. The urge to move away from him subsided. For now, you would accept his company because it was better than being alone with the dreams that could so easily return the moment he left.

“You were screaming." Tommy's voice hung low as he steadied himself to admit more than he would usually care to. “And I can’t stand to see you like that.”

Like a reflex, your cheek met his chest, and the scent of him washed over you like a comforting fire. You leaned into him, and he shifted beneath you until you rested comfortably in the crook of his arm. “Why?”

As if he felt the change in your body, he pressed his lips to your hair and sighed. He closed his eyes with the last of his admission. “I don't know.”

The words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“Two people in pain are no good to each other, Tommy,” you said softly. "Maybe it's best we be alone."

“You're right,” Tommy replied. “But this doesn't seem so bad.”

The seconds of being alone in the safety of Arrow House hit the both of you like a warm light, blinding you from the doubts that you knew would eventually return. But, for now, you and Tommy accepted that if either of you were truly better off alone, then one night wouldn't do much to ruin you anymore than you already were.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The room had settled into a stillness that seemed fragile, as if one wrong word or movement might shatter it. Tommy sat propped against the headboard, his arm wrapped securely around you as you rested against his chest. Your breathing had slowed, teetering on the edge of a deep sleep, but he could tell by the faint tension in your body that you were somewhere just before it.

Tommy glanced down at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. His hand idly brushed over your arm in a gesture so unfamiliar to him it almost startled him to realize he was doing it.

“y/n,” he murmured, his voice barely louder than the whisper of the night outside.

You hummed in acknowledgement, the sleep finding you quickly.

“Bingham,” he whispered. “What happened?”

Perhaps, now wasn't the time, but at this time of night, the thought that you might be so exhausted that you wouldn't be able to hide it anymore encouraged him to keep trying. At first, he thought you might not answer. But then you sighed, your voice soft and gentle, your real voice beneath all that you'd let others hear until now.

“He knew,” you said, your words slow, as if you were piecing them together in your half-awake state.

“Knew what?”

“About him.”

Tommy’s chest tightened, his grip on you tightening slightly. “The man you loved?”

You nodded against him, leaning into him just gently enough to make yourself more comfortable. You didn’t elaborate, and he waited, knowing that pressing too hard would push you back into silence.

“What did he know?” Tommy asked after a moment, his voice even quieter than before.

“That it broke me."

Tommy leaned his head against the bed. He stared into nothing as he braced himself for whatever you would reveal. He didn't know if he'd be ready for any of it, but not knowing would sooner drive him to madness.

“What happened to him?”

When you finally spoke, your voice was distant, as though you were reliving the memory. In your head, all the visions you kept at bay coursed through your mind, seeing the man Tommy so reluctantly asked about.

“He was so sad... And I couldn't fix it. It was all my fault.”

Tommy’s mind raced to piece together what little you were giving him. He wanted to ask more, to demand answers, but your voice cut through his thoughts.

“I wanted to die,” she muttered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t catch them. “So fucking badly.”

The admission hit Tommy harder than he expected. His fingers tightened slightly on your arm, grounding himself in the present though he felt himself being pulled into your nightmare.

“I couldn't,” you continued, breaths slowly deepening as sleep pulled back your speech. “I tried.”

You were quiet for a long time, and he thought you might have fallen asleep. But then you shifted, your nose nuzzling into his chest like a place of comfort. Your voice was drowsy but filled with a quiet resolve.

“Death scared me, too,” you said against his shirt, your words slurring as sleep began to take hold. “And dying didn't wouldn't mean I'd get him back.”

Tommy let the silence stretch after that, his mind a storm of questions and emotions he wasn’t ready to face. He glanced down at you, your breathing evening out as you drifted into sleep.

He held you a little tighter, his hand brushing against your hair in an unconscious gesture of comfort. The weight of your words stayed with him until he, too, found sleep. Though it would not be so comforting as he would have wished.

[ramblingautisticman]

Recently read All New Wolverine #6 and found out Gabby has kids.

And she named them Logan and Wade.

Our boys' legacy will live on forever. She admits that they are huge handfuls and Laura bassically says "what did you expect?"

And I can't stop thinking about how from the day Wade met Gabs, They were quote "Best friends" end quote.

Like this girl is somehow this mans daughter. "Oh because adoption?" Literally no. And this can be taken as "Wade acts childish" OR Iykyk-

Gabby is exactly how Logan would have behaved minus the truama and if he was raised/ accepted with the knowledge of his claws.

Our boy Logan fits with Wade so much because they are so similar it is unreal. So to see Wade so quick to help Gabby and support her through the craziest of ideas (COUGH "dont tell your sister" COUGH) Not because hes "her friend" but because he knows that Logan is stubborn ASF and if someone dosn't go with this little murder munchkin- someones gonna get hurt. And he'll be damned if its her.

This is actually so beautiful too because while they both can heal, you have "Im in pain 24/7 so this is nothing to me." and "I CAN'T feel pain so I need someone to make sure I dont push myself too far"

Everyone says how Laura is copy and paste of Logan (no duh, they were both extremely abused, experimented on, and were raised to be tough) but no one talks about how Gabby literally has Wade's batshit crazy smile. How Wade HANDS her matches and sits to watch the fire with her. How Wade doesn't tattle on her because he wants her to trust him, and he knows he won't let anything happen to her. How Wade GIVES her chloroform(!??) And tells her it would be irresponsible to NOT give her something to knock someone out if she feels introuble?

Logan can have Laura. He can argue with her all he wants. Wade and Gabs are gonna go play paintball and then get ice cream. WITH sprinkles.

This being said, I think Laura struggles to connect with Wade the same way Gabby does. I think Gabby doesn't struggle to connect with Logan, though, because of how instictivly paternal he is and the fact that he can see tiny innocent James inside Gabrielle.

They are all so over protective of Gabby and it makes me feel sorry for when she gets a boyfriend.... can you imagine trying to have a study date with a girl when both her father AND her sister is the fucking Wolverine? And on top of that her other papa is a phycopathic maniac that will infact throw you off a 10 story building if you make his little girl cry, scrape you off the concrete and throw you in a blender, bake you into a pie, and feed you to your parents...

IM SORRY SHE NAMES THEM WADE AND LOGAN!? THATS SO FUCKING ADORABLE!? MY HEART CANT TAKE IT! Also, no idea if they are in the comic or if it shows how they act, but headcannoning that Logan is the batshit crazy one this time and Wade is the more chilled one, purely because that is really funny in my head?

And Wade is like- so good with kids? Noone ever mentions it, but he really is. Yeah, okay, in his own insane Wade Way (that should be a trademark), but Deadpool 2 is literally him helping a kid because he sees this traumatised abused boy that he NEEDS to help. Someone no one else wants to give a chance, and here Wade is, literally taking him under his wing and protecting him every second.

I've seen some of the panels with him and Gabby (I need to actually read the comics but jesus, there are so many?), and he is so so adorable. The fact he just instantly (similar to Russel in the movie, not exactly the same obviously, but ya know) decides "this is my kid now. I will protect them with everything I can. No one will ever hurt them again." is just- so heartwarming and people don't appreciate it enough!!

I think the girls would definitely struggle to connect to Wade alot because I feel like Wade is ALWAYS the funny, happy dad? He wouldn't want his girls to see him hurt or upset or anything else, so he's always making jokes and bring dramatic, while Logan is the more serious one who you can talk to about anything.

Also, Wade being the overly supportive dad is so fitting. He's stood there filming Gabby just doing something EXTREMELY illegal like "you're doing great sweetie!" and after he is getting her any snack she wants to treat her for doing a good job.

[dreamdragonkadia]

Give me Rook who is struggling to grieve and is angry with the world

Crow!Rook

Spoilers for Veilguard

It really was a funny thing, when you thought about it—the Demon of Vyrantium, Lucanis Dellamorte, half-asleep against your legs. The same man who scoffed at the very idea of rest, claiming he never truly slept. And yet, here he was, his features softened by the edge of dreams, his breathing steady as your fingers threaded through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. It was peaceful, in a way that felt stolen—like a moment ripped from a story you had no right to claim.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of calm. Not since you’d been pulled into this whole tangled web of gods and schemes. A bitter laugh caught in your throat at the thought. Would it be wrong to admit how angry you were about it all? At Solas? At Varric? Especially Varric. The bastard. For dragging you into this mess, for making you care so damn much. For giving you a name—Rook—and then vanishing, leaving you to deal with it all alone. You knew it was grief talking, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. Damn Varric and his stupid, sentimental names. Damn him for seeing something in you and putting a label on it that you couldn’t shake. And damn him most of all for leaving you behind.

You swallowed hard, forcing the sadness back down before it could claw its way to the surface. That wasn’t a luxury you could afford—not here, not now. A Crow’s first lesson: never let them see what you’re feeling. You’d learned it well. Too well, maybe. Even Viago had grumbled more than once about how impossible it was to read you. A damn fine Crow, indeed.

But fine Crows didn’t sit around like this, did they? Stroking the hair of a man who had somehow, against all odds, become too close to your heart. A man like Lucanis, who could slip a blade between your ribs as easily as he breathed. Not that you believed he’d ever do it—not now, not to you. He was too close, too vulnerable. And you were no better, your guard lowered in ways that would have once terrified you. It was almost endearing, really, if you ignored how dangerous it was. For both of you.

You sighed, shifting slightly, and Lucanis stirred, his brow furrowing before he relaxed again. The warmth of him seeped into your legs, keeping you in this fleeting moment that could end at any given time. You’d never admit it aloud, but maybe you didn’t mind it. Maybe, for once, you could let yourself have this. Just for a little while longer.

Because who knew when the next storm would hit?

Your fingers paused for a moment, hovering just above his hair. “I thought you didn’t sleep,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucanis grumbled something unintelligible, shifting again so that his head rested more firmly against your lap. “I don’t,” he said after a beat, though his voice was sluggish, the words drawn out. “This isn’t sleeping. It’s... resting. There’s a difference.”

You snorted softly, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Sure, because this is so different from sleeping. Next, you’ll tell me you don’t dream either.”

“I don’t,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it, just the lazy drawl of someone too close to sleep to argue properly. “Dreams are for the dead. And Spite.”

“Charming,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “And yet here you are, practically drooling on me.”

He opened one eye, pinning you in place. “If I drooled, Rook, you’d be the first to know.” His lips curled into a faint smile before the eye slid shut again. “You’re too good at reminding me.”

Your fingers resumed their lazy path through Lucanis’s hair, less to soothe him and more to distract yourself. “You’re lucky you’re cute like this,” you said, letting the teasing edge into your voice. “Otherwise, I’d shove you off and call it a mercy.”

“Cute?” He scoffed, though it came out more like a rumble. “If you think this is cute, you’ve got terrible taste.”

“Better than none at all,” you shot back, earning another quiet grunt. He didn’t respond further, his breathing evening out again, and you were struck by how utterly still he seemed. It was unnerving, seeing someone like him so vulnerable. The pride of house Dellamorte, who always carried himself like he was a moment away from striking. The Demon of Vyrantium, who’d slit a man’s throat before he’d let anyone close enough to see him like this.

But here he was, trusting you with this fragile piece of himself.

Your fingers slowed, your gaze drifting. “You know, I used to hate silence,” you admitted quietly, not really expecting a response. “Too much room for thinking. For remembering.” You swallowed hard, the words threatening to stick in your throat. “But now? Sometimes I think it’s the only thing keeping me sane.”

Lucanis shifted, his head nestling slightly deeper into your lap, and for a moment, you thought he’d finally slipped fully into sleep. The room settled around you, quiet save for the soft rhythm of his breaths. But then a voice—low, guttural, and unmistakably not Lucanis.

“Silence. Is luxury. Enjoy it. While it lasts.”

Spite.

Your eyes flicked down, half-expecting some shift in the demon’s form, but Lucanis didn’t move, not even a twitch. Instead, you could’ve sworn the faintest rumble, like a purr, came from him. The thought of it almost made you laugh.

“Guess that answers whether or not you’re awake,” you muttered under your breath, though Spite didn’t bother responding. It wasn’t like he cared about conversation unless it served his purpose. “Oh, I’m sure silence won’t last,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Not with rampaging gods breathing down my neck. Not with everything falling apart.”

Lucanis—or rather Spite—opened his eyes, just a sliver, those unnerving purple irises locking onto yours. There was something uncomfortably knowing in that gaze, something that made your stomach twist even though you knew Spite wasn’t a threat to you. At least, not right now.

“Then don’t. Fall apart. With it,” Spite said simply. “You are better. Rook.”

The nickname made something shift. You weren’t sure whether to feel comforted or suffocated by it anymore. But before you could decide, Spite’s presence seemed to wane, the glow of his eyes dimming as Lucanis stirred, letting out a soft grunt. For a fleeting moment, you thought he’d woken fully, but no. He merely shifted, his head turning slightly, and let out another one of those quiet, almost purring noises.

You shook your head, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Great. I’m getting pep talks from a demon now,” you mumbled. “How far have I fallen?”

There was no answer, not from Lucanis—nor Spite, either. It left you alone with thoughts you weren’t ready to face.

[belowthesundial]

im one rewatch of moominvalley 2019 away from going insane

[puppyeared]

Ouhhhh friendship I love friendship……..

[randomminty]

I wanted to draw misakis funny shirt so so so badly but i couldnt draw her hat for the life of me :,,,,(

[dairyfreenugget]

I could count the amount of original stories of mine that don't have horror elements on one hand and idk what that says about me

[ganondoodle]

feeling much better now having gotten some sleep (the dont trust how you feel about yourself past 9pm is good advice no joke)

of course all my criticism of totk still applies but im feeling less depressed about it, tho i will say its honestly kinda baffling how many times the game actually got me interested and excited about stuff and then just kinda drops it in a dead end, of course they were those kind of things in botw as well but it seems much less .. balanced in totk

(not even just the big things like making me want to actively do something to help zelda turn back when it just gets solved on its own in the end, but also some lil things like the fact that so many NPCs tell you about that newly discovered animal species and when you find the dongos they are just gem vending maschines)

in the end i can say, no, i dont like totk, tho i still love the graphics and the way the world is made ( botw showed me jsut how immersive and alive a world can feel i love it to death), i liked the gameplay and that it kept the freedom botw had established, the bossfights are mostly fun (tho i wish you could refight more of them), i LOVE the yiga and im glad they got more of a spotlight, the music is FANTASTIC i keep catching myself humming along, alot of the sidequests are much bigger and feel like you are actually doing something, i like how the sages are a bit more integrated into the story, the majority of the new designs are great, both the japanese and german voice acting is great, and the end fight has some of the best build up i have ever experienced, my heart starts to race when that music build up starts even tho i have beaten it 3 times already-

however, the story is both simple and incredible flat with lots of stuff that doesnt make sense especially when it was said to be a sequel, the zonau should have stayed a mystery imo, they failed to make me care about them even a little bit and often felt forcefully crammed into the world and its history, i think you could have told an incredible story taking place in the present and leave the past be the past, you easily could have connected botw and totk in a much better way than they did, i dont like how it changes aspects about botw all the while nigh ignoring it ever happened, it still feels like it was trying to be a replacement and not a sequel and all the referencing and callbacks to the old titles may have been done in good faith but that and including time travel yet again ultimately lead to people ripping each other to shreds over trying to prove its placed in the old timeline despite it making no sense at all and confusing people even more; often when the game made me care or be excited about something it was dropped in a dead end, there was a ton of missed opportunities and lost potential to tell a much more nuanced and interesting story/lore, and thinking about it only makes me sad for the things that could have been

overall i think my disappointment is outweighing my fun and the only way i can keep playing it while having fun is ignoring everything that isnt, which works quite well most of the time since im pretty much done with all story stuff but i keep slipping into my little rants nonetheless; i will say its making me a little worried about the future of the franchise, but i know im in the minority and maybe i will just have to accept that the new stuff wont be for me anymore and i should not hope for anything that interests me xD

except for some meme material or specific characters i love i dont think i will make much use of anything totk tried to establish, and i hope thats fine with the lot of you (<3) hopefully that also means my ranting days are over xD

anyway, back to making niche art i go! (sorry for making you endure these long ass rambling posts :,) )

[simptasia]

mum wasn't much into DS9, she didnt like it when it was airing, and only really started to get into it in the later years of her life. she loved quark. but still, i'm glad she got to see "dr. bashir i presume?" before she died

and she loved it

[get-more-bald]

the thing about X6 is that he's essentially a slave given to the Sole Survivor by the Institute. and I think that the fandom's treatment of him would be different if the game addressed it or even just said it

[cinnabeat]

i love how kh games are just sometimes psychological horrors

[anti-transphobia]

Forever annoyed that "don't speak over marginalized people", the notion that marginalized people are already spoken over, and their oppressors need to actually listen and learn before speaking about complicated topics and need to do so in support of not OVER them, so quickly turned into "I'm not x so I can't speak on x issues". Like the "don't speak on this if you're not this" started out so well meaning because it was about people needing to actually take the time to learn before talking about issues they didn't previously understand! Now it's just an excuse for people to never learn about the issues minorities face or to actually stand up for them in any meaningful way