#but was dealing with a breakup

[oldbutchdaniel]

have you ever seen two people more married in your entire life. please

[dykedarling]

literally my first thought

[letgoofthatego]

i want to go home

[sunnysaystuff]

'cause i am not a thief, but you were mine to earn

we all need to understand what this says about stolas. "you were mine to earn"—he's saying that at some point, when he began his quest to win blitz's affections, blitz became his. the prize, the trophy, the gold. blitz's affection was his to gain, he thought, because that's how it went in his fictional worlds—we know stolas likes to read. we know that for a long time, books were his only friends. but do we realize what kind of understanding on relationships that gives him?

he only ever read about whirlwind romance and dashing, rugged bad boys and posh, pretty aristocrats in ravishing love. he read about mystique and romcom love and "don't get on that train, harriet!"

he never read about arguing and rage and feelings of inadequacy and class differences and lines in the sand that were so very difficult to cross.

stolas is naive, and he is ignorant, and he is sheltered. he is brilliant, and caring, and hopeful, and hopeless.

stolas read about grand gestures and forgiveness; he read about grand gestures and blossoming love that shoved away any past grievances—and he believed every word.

this is how he sees the world, and when blitz didn't accept his gesture, he got upset. things didn't go as planned, and he was so confused because blitz was supposed to be the prize, and stolas was supposed to win him.

it wasn't supposed to be like this.

so yeah, he got angry, and he didn't give blitz a moment, and when blitz hurled vitriol at him instead of love and affection that he had expected, he reacted too quickly.

"you were mine to earn"—we can hope this means he's moved beyond that mindset, because blitz was not a prize, nor was he going to dashingly sweep stolas off his feet. and once he undersands that, and blitz has revelations of his own, maybe, finally, they can heal.

(i might write a fic about this, actually)

[b3an0]

Enjoy your angst ^^

[mochiajclayne]

I've been avoiding episode 1115 for an entire month after it was released and despite reading in the manga about what will transpire, I'm still brokenhearted because the guilt of not being able to protect his ship and crew will flood more questions for Law because surviving yet again has got to be a sick joke from some sort of higher power at a certain point. Is it because he's a D that there's a mysterious force compelling him to survive no matter what? Why him, specifically? If an incurable disease and a limited lifespan was not enough to kill him, if his fate was so checkered to the point that he had to bear witness losing his family, his savior, his home, and his nakamas, what's the point of being alive? He has too much love to give and I won't be surprised if he was already introspecting on the idea that he's like a curse bringing the inevitable to his loved ones because his love was doomed to be tragic and unfortunate.

[thebramblewood]

Even when she's fending off hunger pangs, Helena's got a weak spot for the sexy brash alternative girls (bonus points if they're named Lilith).

Previous / Next

Chapter 4: The Art of Dark Meditation

Helena, thinking: You are not hungry. You are not hungry. You are not h-

[stomach grumbles loudly]

I guess it's back to the drawing board.

-

Julia: Whoa. Where ya off to looking like that?

Helena: Ugh, do I look ridiculous? Is my makeup awful?

Julia: No, you actually kinda look like a million bucks. No more migraine?

Helena: It's under control for now.

Julia: Wait! You didn't answer my question.

Helena: Maybe because it's none of your business. Keep out of trouble, kiddo, and don't stay up past your bedtime.

Julia: But-

Helena: Don't make me call a babysitter.

-

Darling: Helena! You managed to track me down. Guess I owe you that free drink now, huh?

Helena: Oh, I really don't need-

Lilith (Pleasant): One more round, Dar?

Darling: Another round of EAPAs coming up! I'll make you the cocktail of your dreams once I'm finished here, H.

Helena: [stealing discreet glances] No worries. I can wait.

[indistinct conversation]

Darling: Helena, you've barely even touched it! Are my mixology skills that hopeless? I've been practicing!

Helena: Sorry. It's great. I'm just a little... distracted.

Darling: [chuckles] Yeah, that's obvious.

Helena: Who is she? I thought I knew everyone in this place.

Darling: She's new in town, I think. Looks like a tough nut to crack but seems nice enough. Good tipper at least. God, what is her name? I think it's...

Lilith: [faintly overheard] Well, I should pack it in or I'll hate myself in the morning.

Helena: Thanks for the drink, but I've got to go.

Darling: What's with you and the hasty exits these days? [sighs resignedly] Well, good luck chasing down your new lady.

[necrotic-nephilim]

au for the ask game: omegaverse where omega dick grooms ealry-presented alpha tim in "prodigal son"

dick is going through one of the worst periods of his life after breaking up his wedding with kory (maybe she, like a tamaran, couldn't understand the secondary gender of humans and during the breakup said something bad about dick as an omega) and then tim appears with stars in his eyes and believes that dick is the best human being on earth.

bonus points if the society has progressed enough and mating with children is strictly prohibited, even if they present early.

for the ask game!

gdfdsfdgbf anon i'm kissing you on the mouth. this is my favorite flavor of Omegaverse, especially for DickTim. i'm a proud believer in the dominant omega!Dick/submissive alpha!Tim propaganda. also a big fan of how terrible Dick's life is during Batman: Prodigal. and i just. man i love the Omegaverse concepts of alien characters like Kory not understanding secondary gender and it causing rifts.

what's fun about the Prodigal era is just how isolated Tim and Dick are during it. Bruce is off.. being fucking Bruce, and Alfred is also away, so it's really just Dick and Tim for a bit. they've always worked with each other and have a repertoire, but a lot of the conversations they have about each other's pasts are happening for the first time. so it's such a fun time for Tim to present as an alpha. and of course, his hero worship for Dick (especially after having to deal with Jean-Paul) makes it so *easily* for Dick to just. slip his fingers into. Dick's isolated from the Titans, he's lost Kory, he's on the rocks with Bruce, and so there's just something so nice about this kid who still holds utter faith in him. he doesn't see any of the societal stereotypes about omegas in Dick, he just sees Dick. and then, he presents and he trusts *Dick* with that information, lets Dick guide him through the most awkward parts of presenting. how can Dick not want to take advantage of that? a young, fresh alpha who he's currently in charge of mentoring, with no one to stop Dick or notice what he's doing.

it's still tricky, of course. Dick not only has to make sure he's not breaking the law, but he also has to keep Tim from noticing, immediately. Tim's hero worship crush is the most obvious thing about him, but that doesn't mean Dick can jump on him. it needs careful time and planning. Bruce might not be around, but Tim still has his dad who could notice the scent of an omega on Tim. so instead of marking Tim, Dick starts marking himself with Tim's scent. it starts small, using the same blanket Tim has used in the Batcave, grabbing a couple of Tim's oversized hoodies and wearing them. things with plausible enough deniability, but enough that Tim starts to subconsciously associate his scent with Dick. when he can't smell himself on Dick he feels like something is wrong. and when he's finally brave enough to bring it up to Dick, Dick is able to spin it on Tim. make it seem like Tim is the one coming onto Dick, assuming things. Dick plays it cool, pretending to be shocked by the idea of it. he gently explains to Tim what he could be implying about their relationship and Tim is *mortified*, apologizing and tripping over himself to try and fix it. but Dick just calms him down, promises Tim he isn't mad bc hey, Tim is a fresh alpha and he presented so *young*, it's difficult to navigate.

so you have Dick offering to help navigate this with Tim and using it to get closer and closer to Tim. grooming him into the type of alpha that Dick wants in a relationship. anytime there's behavior in Tim that Dick doesn't like, Dick can pretty easily redirect by dropping comments about how Tim just "can't help" acting like this because of his alpha nature, which instantly makes Tim scramble to fix it. Dick likes Tim for who he is, this cute, sweet kid who's such a handsome little alpha. but he's rough around the edges and Dick puts it on himself to smooth those edges over. he's playing the long game with this, and he doesn't mind waiting it out. and Tim can't complain when Dick pushes the boundaries, making him uncomfortable, because he doesn't want Dick to think he's a *pervert* for thinking that way. it's one big mind game.

i do think, Dick would cave and sleep with Tim before Tim's an adult. he's smart enough not to mate Tim, and he's definitely smart enough not to sleep with Tim enough for Bruce, a beta, to notice what's going on. but when some sort of sex pollen incident triggers a simultaneous heat and rut for Dick and Tim respectively, it's the most convenient in that Dick needs. Dick acts like they're doing this out of necessity, that he's giving in even though he doesn't want to, just because of how Tim's acting under the aphrodisiac. it gives him complete control over the sex because Tim is so desperate to not give in to his "alpha ways" and hurt Dick by being violent or animalistic. Dick gets to pin Tim down, possibly even tie him down "for his own safety" and ride him until Tim is a crying mess under Dick. after the first time, if Dick orchestrates more scenarios where they end up in "fuck or die" situations well, it's not like anyone's noticing. at the height, he even manages to have sex with Tim without that sort of pretense, he just has to act like he can tell how needy Tim is and sigh, pretending he's the one doing Tim a favor "just this once" by letting Tim fuck him.

in the end, it's a long con that pays off. it takes until Battle for the Cowl but Tim's a legal adult. and Dick is Batman again, which really does feel like everything coming full circle. part of the reason Dick makes Damian Robin is to remove the pretense of Tim and Dick being sidekick and mentor. it makes it easier for Dick to insist he really does see Tim as a full adult (even if he doesn't, deep down. Tim is still a fresh teenager, just because it's legal doesn't make it any less morally questionable) and something more than Robin. Dick makes a comment about them being mates so offhandedly it makes Tim stop in his tracks. Tim, who's about to go on his Red Robin arc and isolate himself, now has a chance at being mates with his hero. a chance to smooth over their differences and be actual equal partners. of course, Tim jumps on it. maybe deep down, after they mate and Dick is all too pleased with himself, it clicks for Tim that this was all a set-up. he puts the pieces together while they're cuddling in bed. he knows deep down that Dick will never *actually* see him as an equal. but, the deed is done and if Tim is going to give himself over to anyone, of course it's going to be Dick Grayson.

[dnphobic]

if my reaction to matpat quitting youtube was as severe as it was last night what the actual FUCK am i gonna do when dan and phil stop posting

[viric-dreams]

Jones Has a Coffee Date

The café is nearly packed, and the wall of noise hits Jones’ ears the moment he opens the door. It’s more than the usual lunch rush—students huddled at the large tables, gesticulating wildly at their notes and each other. In one corner, a trio of tomb colonists set out a game board and a pair of dice. A couple brush passed him, wandering out into the humid London air hand-in-hand. There’s too much going on for him to keep track of; too many faces to watch for suspicious behaviour. But there’s not much that he can do about it. 

He spots the man at a circular table against the back wall, near to the kitchens. The man wiggles his fingers at him in a silly approximation of a wave. At least the bastard had the sense to pick an unobtrusive spot in this chaotic café. With a deep breath, Jones puts on his best pleasant face and wades his way through the sea of patrons. 

A few feet from the table, his foot catches against the leg of a neighbouring chair and he stumbles, arms just barely reaching out to brace against a table in time. The couple occupying it startle at his landing, cups rattling, but drinks ultimately unspilt. From the corner table, the man chuckles at this, his laughter a dry and sour thing. 

“Jonesy, you made it!” He opens his arms wide to punctuate the greeting. He’s too loud, even in such a busy place. Jones slides into the seat across from him to try to close the distance. 

“I’m glad you came,” the man says. 

Jones nods in acknowledgement. “You asked.”

You gave me no choice. 

He grins at this, and Jones feels his stomach turn. 

He’s not saying anything more, just sat there holding that ridiculous, grating expression like he has nowhere else to be today. And perhaps he doesn’t. Perhaps London’s finest truly have nothing better to do than to schedule coffee dates. 

“I don’t mean to keep you from your work—”

“No, no, Jones. Don’t worry about me. Worry about you. Now, how do you take your coffee?” 

Dear Christ, he doesn't have time for this. The Kolomanian Delegation’s celebration dinner is two hours from now. They’re far too close to the hotel for comfort. Any of his “fellow countrymen” could see him here talking to a constable, and even in plainclothes, the stench of the man is potent enough to even the most dimwitted of spies.

“An espresso, please.” 

This seems to delight him.

“One of those fancy drinks? I like that about you, Jones.” 

Please be quiet. Please stop saying my name.

The constable waves over a waitress with a wild swing of his arm. 

“One coffee for me, bring sugar. And green tea for my friend here… And we’ll take something to eat too. Maybe those little cakes.” 

If he’s hoping to get a rise out of him, Jones refuses to grant him that satisfaction. His hand curls loosely around the mug, letting the warmth permeate into his palm, whilst The Smug Constable takes a too-large bite of a jellied mushroom cake. His own remains untouched on its plate. 

“These things are really good,” The Slovenly Constable says, his mouth half full of pastry. Crumbs spill out onto his jacket, “You’ve got to give them a try.”

“I’m sure they are.” His hand wraps tighter around the mug. 

The tea tastes of nothing, only heat. He’s not sure if this is the fault of the beverage or his abused taste buds, desensitised to worrying amounts of coffee and that bitter aromatic the doctor had given him. All so that he can do his job. A job he’s unsure the constable is aware of. 

For nearly two months they’ve had this back and forth—the man calls and he comes. This uncomfortable dance that’s taken place since the ominous moment he’d come into Jones’ life, claiming to know who he is, that he’d finally put two and two together after that fateful arrest on New Years Eve. But he’d be willing to look past his sin, let the cop killer be. The Forgiving Constable is a generous man, after all. Jones simply needs to do him one little favour and it’ll all be forgotten. 

And here they sit, finally in the same room. A proper meeting—no last minute being stood up this time—and getting nowhere, that favour left dangling, unspoken. Instead, he sits across from the bastard in his chair, an errant glob of jelly in his ugly beard that he won’t wipe away–why won’t he wipe his face–picking away at this cake, as if he has all the time in the world and—

“Are you enjoying the Games so far?” The way he makes it sound like such friendly small talk makes his blood boil. Like two friends having a casual chat. 

How much does he know? 

Does he suspect Jones has been acting as a double agent? Very few agents of Black are even aware, only adding to his feelings of unease in the field. Likely, the man’s just fishing. 

“I can’t say I’ve seen much of it. Been keeping to myself, mostly.”

Will he call out the blatant lie? If the man clocks it as one, he doesn’t seem to give any indication of it, polishing off the cake to take a deep swig of coffee, before picking up the one from Jones’ plate. The jam remains, stubbornly clinging to his facial hair. 

“Is that so? I’ll bet you’ve got all sorts of fun little hobbies with all of that time on your hands now. You enjoying your freedom, jailbird?”

The snarl becomes a smile before the constable has the chance to spot the expression. 

“Indeed.” Jones replies sweetly, bringing the cup to his lips. This time, he doesn’t even register the heat, outsmoked by his own slow-roiling anger. This is another dead end. The Jam-Covered Constable has no intention of making requests, it’s simply another one of his silly plays. Jones knows this game, and has had enough of it. The man’s had his fun today, let him call again if he’s serious about–

“I saw our mutual friend the other day.” The man swipes at his lip with the back of his hand, just missing that spot of jam, hanging precariously. “He asked about you, you know. ‘How’s ol’ Robert doing? You keeping an eye on him?’” He leans forward, his sour breath wafting across the table, “What do you think I should tell him?”

Tell him I’m going to claw his eyes out of his fucking skull. I’ll break his fucking fingers and push them down his throat.

“I’m doing well, thank you.”

The constable frowns at this and reaches across the table. His hand wraps around Jones’ wrist, prying it from the cup. “Are you sure about that? You look so frail. Nothing like the man I arrested on New Years. Have you been eating, Jonesy?”

He wants to leap across the table and grab him by his stupid collar, smash that smug face of his into the table until it’s nothing but pulp and mushroom jelly. Over and over again until they have to pry him off of what’s left of him. Dig his fingers into muscle and bone and–

“...should take better care of yourself. A man who lives alone can’t afford to be ill. Not when he has to keep working.”

Jones gently slides his arm free from the man’s grip. He makes no effort to hold on. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and when the constable makes no effort to continue the conversation Jones sets a few Echoes down onto the table. “I take it we’re done here, then?”

The man stares at him a moment, before leaning back in his seat. The derisive demeanour slides back onto his face.

“I’m looking forward to the next one, Jonesy. I might have a favour to ask of you then. Perhaps. But for now, be good.”

His hip clips the side of a table on his way out of the crowded café. He doesn’t even feel it.

[717words]

if the poem has a black background just know it’s devious

[thinkingthefeels]

Does grief ever goes away?

Will you forever be a ghost in the back of my mind and my dreams? 

You’ve been in my dreams, but way back, in the background and I wake up and I’m not sure if it was you who I saw or just a ghost, someone my soul used to know. I had a dream recently and I swear I could feel your calling, and I never knew love or attachment could be that strong. I thought of texting you that day, but I didn't, I don't want to disturb your journey and you asked me not to reach out, so I won't. But I told you I didn’t wanted this to happen, I didn't wanted to live with your shadow behind me, I didn't wanted to try to remember your face and see you like a whisper in my mind all the time, but you were right, we can’t be friends. We can’t be close, even though you are the one closest to me, I’ll forever miss you, even if I don’t want you, I’ll forever grief. 

[thefleshyougoveggie]

i’ve listened to like 80 episodes of tma since saturday. i think probably a bit more tbh… aka in five days…. yeah i love this podcast

[maeswrites]

in another universe, our love would have been enough and you would have stayed.

— mae setrova

[dreamertrilogys]

bisexual friend groups have suffered more than jesus

[happyk44]

Percy trying to convince Grover to move in with him and Annabeth, the original power trio all together forever, and Grover is just "dude, I'd love to but I have my girlfriend and my job. I can't just leave camp right now" and Percy is quiet for a few seconds before "if you hate me, you can just say that" and now Grover is pinching the bridge of his nose, be like "Percy, you dillweed, I don't hate you, please stop guessing that"