#don’t tell them they think I’m normal

[fucknugg3t]

seriously!! I had a teacher who argued that old ass men buying and marrying little girls was ok because it’s a different time back then and it was there culture so I can’t say anything against it because it would be disrespectful and like holy fuck? No? I tried to argue back and he said well we’re your proof how do you know and I’m like my guy I’m no goddamn historian but that’s just wrong like on a moral level there’s lots of things that are “normal” for our “culture” and their fucked up so the excuse it’s just culture is so shitty and he laughed and said I didn’t have a actual example of anyone not liking it and he was just playing devils advocate I fucking hate that teacher like a day later it hit me fucking PERSEPHONE i could’ve said Persephone‼️‼️‼️‼️ And I could’ve said clearly if an entire myth was made about mother mourning their daughters being taken and married off then it had to have happened alot!!! There must’ve been countless people like Demeter disturbed and terrifyed for their little daughters and countless Persephone’s who were taken and advantage of and stolen away

it always grossed me out how persephone’s kidnapping would be modernized and turned into a love story between her and hades and everyone acted all like “ohhh well Demeter is just some old hater lady who doesn’t like age gaps and persephone wants to escape with her lover and they live happily ever after” no what the fuck

if you want to tell that story there’s so many other gods and people to choose from to modernize!! There’s so many goddamn secret mortal lovers or whatever you could pick ANYONE ELSE leave the fucking rape victim and her mother alone let her at least be acknowledged in a myth I mean you really have to think about this can you imagine being a girl back then and hearing that myth and knowing at least somebody out there gets it and is worried about you and maybe others will hear it and know what really happened and how messed up it really was and how scared you are like that story had to mean so much to so many people back then let’s not be like fucking disrespectful ALSO that’s like still a religion There’s people who worship the Greek gods how do you think they feel having their gods misrepresented

anyway I’m no history professor or and I don’t study Greek mythology but that’s what I think

if Persephone and Demeter got to be upset and mourn this and all the women who dealt with all this garbage back then then you do to yknow I mean you could already but it’s gotta be nice seeing someone like yourself out there especially from the past and seeing them mourn what happened to them sort of feels like you can do the same thing and you feel less alone? Hopefully. people have always been going through shit and been ignored and talked down to over it so it’s ok to be upset and angry don’t let anyone convince you what you went through isn’t real or actually upsetting

[kitkat13001]

𝄞 𓍢ִ໋ ✮⋆˙ 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚞𝚜

⤷ tomura shigaraki / tenko shimura x reader

⤷ au where shigaraki grows up normal, emo loser neighbor pining tomu, rambunctious reader, inspired by “me & my dog” and “not strong enough” by boygenius, you can all thank kisa for this

tomura wishes he was as brave as you. 

you always say whatever you’re thinking, no matter what it is or who’s around or whether or not it makes sense. 

you always know what you want, even when you don’t. tomura never knows what he wants, even when he does. 

it’s always been like this, ever since you were kids. you talk, you yell, you joke, and tomura listens. he runs after you when you take off sprinting. he sits you on his bed and puts bandaids over the scrapes on your knees after you’d tripped from running too fast, from pushing another kid over on the playground.

tomura wishes he was more like you. he wishes he’d speak up when other kids made fun of him. he wishes you didn’t have to fight his battles for him. 

he spends a lot of his time wishing things, staring up at his ceiling fan like it’ll magically make these things come true. 

you don’t wish for things. in tomura’s eyes, you reach out and bend reality to your every whim. things work out for you like that, he thinks. you mold the universe with your bare hands and wring every drop of life from it until you get exactly what you want. he admires your tenacity, he really does. he just wishes it would rub off on him. 

you’re sleeping over at his house again. it was raining when school let out, and you had got into another fight again. he’d noticed the way you winced on the way home as the water ran over the raw scrapes on your elbows and knees. so he took a page out of your book and spoke up. 

he feels stupid bringing it up, insisting you stay because of the rain like you don’t live just a few houses down. he’s eternally grateful you don’t bring this fact up and instead shrug and agree to stay the night. 

it’s not the first time, and it’s probably not the last. you follow him in, kick your shoes off at the door and stand dripping in his bedroom’s doorway as he rummages around for spare clothes for you. 

he turns his back while you change, and then you both sit on his bed in silence. there’s been some strange tense energy in the air all day. you’ve been quieter than usual. and tomura’s never been good at filling the silence. 

he’s grateful for a split second when he hears you speak. 

“tomura, do you like me?”

and then it hits him. god, he could just die. 

“how do you do that?” he asks in an embarrassed sputter before he can stop himself. 

“do what?”

“just say things like that!”

you blink at him. “like what?”

“like you don’t think about it a million times before you say it.”

“i don’t?” you tell him, and he wonders how someone can look so beautifully confused. 

tomura buries his burning face in his hands, unable to even look at you. 

your hands are soft when you pull his arms away, soothing away the itch on his skin before it forms. 

“tomura, why didn’t you ever tell me anything?” you ask him quietly, eyes like a campfire in the night boring straight through his own. 

“i can’t…i’m not…” he’s scrambling for purchase on reality now. you’re so close he can feel the warmth coming off your face, smell your faint shampoo and perfume. “i wish i was more like you,” he whispers finally. “i’m not good with words, and i…”

he trails off and you shake your head a little. “tomura, i don’t like you because you’re like or not like me. i like you because you’re you.”

every time he thinks you can’t possibly surprise him more, you do. your hands are warm against his where you’re holding them in your lap. 

he wants to ask you why, how, why, why why? but he doesn’t. he just lets his eyes close when he sees you lean forward a little to kiss him. 

and then, nothing. he opens his eyes after a minute and you’re standing there, barely an inch from his face. your lips almost brush his when you speak. 

“nuh-uh. if you want me to kiss you, say it. tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” his whispers immediately, like a prayer. almost against his will, just because you told him. 

so you smile, huff a little, and lean in to kiss him just like he’d asked. 

maybe he can be brave, tomura thinks. at least, with you by his side. 

icons from pinterest (not mine) and divider by @/cafekitsune — this has me feeling some typa wayyyyyy ugh loser bf shiggy has a VICE GRIPPP on me. anyways this is dedicated to kisa (@/shigarakislaughter) and their very big big brain, thanks for putting me on boygenius 🫶🫶🫶

[signanothername]

How do you feel about the fandom?

I’m assuming you mean Ut/utmv?

How can I say this in the most gentle way possible hmm..

I genuinely do love the creativity within the fandom, the beautiful art and stories and ideas people come up with, the different interpretations of these characters even when i don’t agree with them or have my own thoughts/opinions, cause that’s what fandoms are supposed to, it’s all of us showing our love for these lil blorbos of ours in each of our own unique different ways

Of course, each fandom has its good and bad side, but to say the ut/utmv fandom is so damn negative to the point it’s suffocating is an understatement

I’m especially weirded out by the pro harassment behavior within this fandom, like, a mf would say “i’m anti harassment!!!!” Then turn around and post/reblog a post with +20 people name dropped to “raise awareness” for whatever little that is worth, you can “raise awareness” by messaging people privately, not make a list where an asshole can easily use it to harass people, and no, saying shit like “don’t harass these people!!!” Does not alleviate any responsibility from you if they do get harassed because of your post

That’s why messages are a thing, and only messaging those who explicitly state they want to be messaged, not jump in into people’s inboxes or messages and telling them shit out of the blue

So many people within this fandom need to learn fandom etiquette, how to mind their own business, and to use the damn block button, you’re uncomfortable with a certain subject? Tumblr has the most handy filtering system, don’t like a person/find them uncomfortable? Block them, blocking them isn’t enough and want to complain? That is what you can use your blog for, feel free to complain on your own blog to your heart’s content (not on other people’s blogs or under their posts if it’s not the subject for it) that’s what friends are for too, go to their DMs and complain till the end of time

Being just a bit bigger of an artist follower wise in comparison to other artists means that I deal with very special cases sometimes, because I’m also puzzled by the way people can get super comfortable with commanding strangers to do things they want or to break basic respectful boundaries like not getting people involved in drama even when they specifically state not to include them (me, I’m starngers, every time I reblog my boundaries post, it’s me implying that I got something that broke my very basic bitch boundaries that day, which says a lot about the fandom, cause i literally only got 4 boundaries stated damn)

That’s why I opt to not get too close to people within the fandom, and am generally careful as to who I let close to me, I’m very certain people might think I somehow have my own social circle within the fandom or have some wide connections they can never get, when in reality I’m isolated af

That being said, idk if it’s young people not knowing any better, or adults who act like children, but the fact harassment is very prominent and also very normalized within the fandom is something that definitely made me seriously think of just getting back to the Transformers fandom (one of the most chill fandoms i’ve ever been part of)

Fandom is fandom, keep it for rambling about blorbos, and learn to mind your own business <3

[shifting-nightly]

💡 my first dr was a breakfast club dr and my main dr is currently a librarian dr. i made the switch because i forgot about shifting for a while to be honest and then when i got back into it i decided to make a whole new dr. i still love the breakfast club, i just wanted to start over again i guess? and make a new dr where i’m a librarian since i would be loving life if i was one.

🏷️ in my dr, my name is evelyn because i’ve always thought it was a pretty name

👜 my house is kinda cottagecore (?) i guess, that would be the best way i know how to describe it. i like houses with that kind of aesthetic so i went with that for a house. i have posters in my room and little things from antique stores as decorations. i haven’t decided yet if i have any roommates or anybody living with me, i’m on the fence on whether i want any or not. i would like the social aspect of it but at the same time i also like to have my own space so i’m not completely sure yet. my favorite aspect of my house would be the decorations because it would be decorated the way i would love to have my own space decorated and not have to worry about having to ask someone if it’s okay to have things where i want them.

🎞️ i don’t think there would be edits or a fandom for me since in my librarian dr. maybe in my singer one? but i haven’t thought much about it lol

🩰 my ootd for my librarian dr would be something dark academia aesthetic, like a sweater and either a skirt or pants because dark academia is my favorite aesthetic

🏛️ in my free time, i see, draw, read, color, knit, crochet, do quilting, bake, cook, play with my cat and dog. i spend time with friends, especially my best friends, and s/o. we go to the movies, zoo, aquarium, antique stores, basically anywhere

🗝️ i guess my most niche dr would be either my author dr or librarian dr, those are the only ones i can think of that could possibly be considered niche. i made my author dr because not only do i like reading but i would also enjoy writing books of my own. i made my librarian dr because again, i like reading and would love a job involving books.

📜 i wake up every day excited to go to work because i love being a librarian and come home at the end of the day to relax with my pets :)

🧳 normally when i do script i just write out bullet points in my notes app

author dr

* 22

* writing a series and some standalone books that take place in the same universe as the series, like how there’s heartstopper and then other books like nick and charlie and this winter

* have a black cat and golden retriever

* cottagecore house

* clothes are dark academia aesthetic

* have curtain bangs

* have similar hair to sabrina carpenter

* writes romantacy things

* some books involve dragons

* take walks during the sunset

* writes at a coffee shop / cat cafe

* spotify works good instead of dragging out spotify wrapped

* knit, crochet, sew, and play instruments and just dance during free time

* goofy socks and earrings

* love baking and just making food in general

♟️ my best friends in this reality are in my friend group in my dr and we met through having class together

🕰️ my favorite person in my family would probably be my sister. we have a close relationship and tell each other everything. she showed me how to do make up and explained things like that. my relationship with my mom is similar in that i also tell her everything. me and my dad usually make jokes together

🎻 a scenario that i have scripted and am excited for is getting to make all of the recipes that i’ve seen and have been wanting to make. i’ve seen different ones for different kinds of pasta, some for bread, and some with chicken that i’ve been excited to make in my dr. i’m also excited to make different kinds of desserts that sound good too

💼 i haven’t thought much about who i don’t get along with in my dr because i’ve mainly been focusing on who i do get along with and what i want to do in my dr lol. i guess i’ll figure out when i shift lol

🍨 my username would either be just my first name or something funny and i would mainly just post things i think are pretty :)

ᓚᘏᗢ﹐𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. ⁞ ˎˊ˗

shifting ask game reblog for asks ↻ ‧₊˚.

i’m bored so here’s another ask game, i’ll try to ask to everyone who reblogs, as long as tumblr isn't too glitchy, but feel free to send asks to others

— 💡 : what was your first dr and what is currently your main dr? How and why have you made this switch?

— 🏷 : what is your name for your dr and why is that your name?

— 👜 : what’s your house look like? Do you have any roommates or people who live with you? What’s your favorite aspect of your house and why?

— 🎞 : what edits of you would there be in your dr? what is your fandom like?

— 🩰 : what is your OOTD (outfit of the day) for a dr and why?

— 🏛️ : what do you do in your free time? Who are you with? Where do you go?

— 🗝 : what is your most niche dr and why did you make it?

— 📜 : summarize your dr in a sentence

— 🧳 : what is your favorite way to script and share your favorite dr script

— ♟ : who’s in your friend group and how did you make this friend group?

— 🕰 : what’s your family like? Who’s your favorite person and what are your relationships with your different members?

— 🎻 : what is a fun scenario you have scripted and you excited for? (be detailed! :)

— 💼 : who is someone you don’t get a long with in your dr? Why?

— 🍨 : what are your socials like in your dr? Followers? Username? What do you post?

[fanfoolishness]

messy

When Elgar'nan and Solas battle in Rook's mind, she gains a new sense of empathy for Lucanis' struggle with Spite -- and Lucanis finds a new fear. Lucanis x Rook, a little angst, a little whump, lots of cuddles and conversation. 2500 words, post-"Blood of Arlathan."

---

Lucanis followed Rook and Neve, his senses muted and muffled. This was not the real world, this trap of Elgar’nan’s. He knew that much even without Spite raging in the back of his mind. The world shimmered around them, gauzy and insubstantial, as they tried path after path only to be transported back to the beginning.

“We’re wasting time,” Rook lamented, her pale eyes wide with worry. Soot and blood smudged her cheeks, remnants of their earlier battles against Ventatori and darkspawn. “We have to find the clan!” She charged forward again into the fog, then stopped suddenly, looking confused.

“Did you two hear that?” she asked, gaze fixed on something Lucanis couldn’t see. 

“Hear what?” Neve asked, giving Rook a curious expression.

There is nothing here, Spite agreed. Trapped! We cannot get out!

“No,” Lucanis said, troubled.

Rook took a few more steps into the mist, then stopped, twisting her head to one side as she had when Elgar’nan had attempted to sway them all. She rubbed at her face, her eyes darting wildly. “I just heard Solas. Tell me you heard that.”

“No,” Lucanis said slowly as Neve shook her head. Rook winced, distress crossing her face.

“I don’t know how, but I can hear him. He says there isn’t much time, that he’s going to try to distract Elgar’nan somehow. Come on. I think it’s the only chance we’ve got.” She led them into the haze, and Lucanis matched her pace to stay by her side. 

He had long ago learned to control his fear, something all Crows faced young. One could not survive as an assassin by operating from a place of fear. Fear led to exploitation by enemies, to holding back when the killing blow was at hand. He had not been afraid for his own life for many, many years.

But seeing the way Rook stopped abruptly, tilting her head with one long ear pressed against her shoulder, her grey eyes vacant -- new fear roared up within him, and he did not know how to quell it. 

He waited for her to speak, praying that she came back to him.

“They’re fighting,” Rook said, each word looking like it took great effort. “It’s nasty. They loathe each other.” She gritted her teeth. “Come on.”

“Are you all right, Rook?” Neve asked, reaching out and touching her on the shoulder. Rook startled at the touch, her eyes wide and haunted. 

“I’m fine. We’ve just -- got to keep going.”

Not possessed! Something else, Spite said urgently, and Lucanis wanted to believe him. But Spite was a normal demon, if there was such a thing; he was not a god, and he did not have the powers of one. Who knew what Elgar’nan and Solas could do to Rook?

Mist billowed around them, then a sensation of shifting, the sense that they were back on solid ground. “You led us out!” Lucanis said proudly. 

Rook gave him a wan smile. “Thank Solas, not me, and hurry.We’ve still got time to save the clan.” She broke into a run over the stonework path, staff held tight in one hand, and Neve and Lucanis ran after her. 

“She’s got this, Lucanis,” Neve said under her breath. “I don’t think whatever’s happening is hurting her, exactly. We’ve just got to hope it helps.”

Can’t see it. Can’t hear it! Spite said. I would know a demon!

And a god? Lucanis thought. But then Venatori rounded the corner, rushing at them, and he and Spite flowed together, a blur of blades and blood. Neve was right. They had this, and they would find a way to stop the sacrifice and save the Dalish. 

He parried a Venatori’s blade, then drove his own deep between the man’s ribs, Spite cackling with glee. Around the battlefield magic flew, the iron stench of blood magic, Neve’s crisp clean ice spells, the musty-sweet scent of Rook’s necromancy. The tide was turning --

“Rook! On your left!” he shouted as a Venatori knight rushed her from the side, shield raised and sword at the ready. She should have sidestepped, skimming across the surface of the Fade to reappear safely on the other side. He had seen her do it a thousand times. 

But she didn’t turn, didn’t respond at all, and his heart leapt into his throat. “Rook!” He ran to help her, Spite urging him on faster. He was nearly there when a burst of ice magic shattered against the knight just as he reached Rook, battering her with a single blow of his shield as the chill took hold. She crumpled. Lucanis’ dagger tore through the man’s throat an instant later, and he shoved the body aside, turning his attention to Rook.

Lucanis dropped to the ground beside her. “No, no --” He turned her over, his heart pounding, Spite incoherent and frantic. Relief washed over him.

She was pale but alive, dazed but conscious. His hand scrabbled at his belt for a healing potion, and he forced himself to steady his hands as he tilted it to her lips. She swallowed, coughing, the color in her cheeks looking better instantly. “Thanks, Lucanis,” she gasped, taking his proffered hand as he hauled her to her feet. 

His heart slowed again, and Spite ceased his agitated chatter. Rook. Is all right!

Lucanis scanned the battlefield. There was only one more enemy left, and with a howling blizzard conjured up by Neve, the Venatori mage collapsed and breathed her last. He let out a long sigh and turned back to Rook. “What happened? I tried to warn you, but I couldn’t get there in time --”

“I couldn’t hear you,” she admitted, nearly in tears. “They’re deafening.” She winced as he reached out to touch a slash on her head. “Never mind. We have to --” She grimaced, twisting her head to the side, one ear down toward her shoulder. “Shut up already!” 

Neve reached them, her face tight with worry. “Rook. Come on. I know you have this,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Rook said, breathing heavily. “Let’s finish this.”

Rook hurts. Help Rook!

I don’t know how, he thought, and he shoved the fear down as deep as it could go.

---

It seemed like days since the battle and rescue at Arlathan Crater, but realistically it was a matter of hours. They’d found the elves at last and gotten to safety. Somehow they made it through what happened: the hike back to the Veil Jumpers’ eluvian, making sure the rescued elves were safe, tending to injuries and meeting with the team. 

So much in such little time. Lucanis felt the exhaustion deep in his bones. He knew there was still so much more to come -- slaying Elgar’nan’s archdemon and killing the gods, aiding Treviso, Minrathrous, their team. He hoped he could manage to sleep tonight after everything.

But he knew he’d never manage it if he still feared so for Rook. The way she’d gone so distant, face empty; he’d lost her even though she was right beside him. That loss, even for a moment, had been terrifying. And the thought that kept crawling back into his head, just as terrifying --

Is this how she feels when Spite takes over?

He shook the thought away as best he could. She was here now, safe from Elgar’nan, safe from Solas doing whatever he’d done. He had to believe it, for her sake as well as his own.

He took the stairs lightly, then made his way down the narrow hall to her room. He raised a hand and rapped at the door. “It’s me. May I —“

The door swung open before he could finish the sentence. Rook smiled tiredly at him, a welcome sight. She’d traded her armor for soft linens in Mourn Watch greens and violets, and she’d let her dark hair down for the evening, hiding some of the fresh scratches on her face. “Well, well, well. I’d been getting ready to come see you. Thanks for saving me the trip.”

His face creased into a smile. “You’re all right.”

“In a manner of speaking,” she said. She smiled back at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Anyway, do come in. I wanted to say… that is, there’s some things I wanted to…” She crossed her arms, heading back to the settee. He followed her and closed the door behind him, and they sat down together. “Eurgh. I’m a mess right now.”

“A beautiful one,” Lucanis pointed out.

She snorted, then laughed. “How are you somehow the most earnest man who ever lived?”

“It is easy to be earnest when speaking the truth,” he said, shrugging with a soft smile. He hoped to have put her at ease, but as her laughter faded, he could see something dark and shuttered behind her eyes. Not all right, then.

He reached out cautiously. Their first attempt at a kiss had been disastrous, but he was growing more comfortable with the language of touch, especially smaller touches like her hand in his, a close embrace, small, still-clumsy kisses. But those had been moments of stolen sweetness, not attempts to offer comfort after dark times. He rested his hand on her shoulder, hoping this was right. 

“How are you really?” 

She looked up at him, her smile gone, her face stricken. Then she closed the distance between them, scooting beneath his arm and resting her head against his chest. He froze for a moment in surprise, then softened, welcoming her closeness. 

“Sorry,” she said, her voice muffled as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I just — wanted to feel you were here. That I was here.”

He let his arm relax around her shoulders and pulled her closer, sighing. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He took a deep breath. Her hair smelled freshly cleaned, with faint scents of lavender and woodsmoke —

Smells like fear. Confusion!

He frowned. “So… you are all right. Only in a manner of speaking.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

”For what?” he asked, bewildered. “You led our team safely through a den of vipers. We rescued the elves. What more could you have done?”

”It’s not that. It’s… I understand better now. What it must be like to have Spite in your head, all the time.” She lifted her head, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. “Solas has been in my head since this all started, but… it’s different. The connection between us is tenuous, and he’s only been able to make contact through the Veil when I meditate and drop all other thoughts. It’s been my choice to contact him. The prison he’s in in the Fade is powerful, and it keeps him bound.” She shivered. “Until Arlathan.”

”What did you hear?” Lucanis asked gently. “Neve and I never truly heard what you did. You said that Elgar’nan and Solas fought —“

”It wasn’t just words,” Rook said, releasing her arms from around him and leaning back against the settee. She reached up to where his arm circled her shoulders, and took his hand in hers, squeezing tightly. “It was all-encompassing. It was difficult to see, to fight, to walk, even to breathe. Their rage was so tremendous. Their power. I felt like an ant beneath them, and as for my own thoughts — when I could get them back — I kept thinking, And Lucanis struggles with Spite, all the time.”

We have a deal! Spite chimed. Not a struggle! Not now. Not so much.

“It is better between us,” Lucanis said. Not a struggle still wasn’t exactly true, but it was not like the early days, when he stayed awake for two or three days at a time, refusing to sleep and lose control. He shivered. “Not like a god. I think… I know how to bear him now.” He sighed. “But you, Rook… it was hard to see you like that.” He squeezed her hand, his heart aching.

“Why? What was it like?” Rook asked haltingly.

He thought for a moment. “You are fierce in a fight, you know. Your focus, your power, your magic -- you are brilliant.”

She gave him an awkward, surprised smile. It was terribly charming. “I’m sorry, was I asking why I’m so incredible?”

Lucanis chuckled. “You may as well have been.” His smile faded. “But seeing their voices in your mind, knowing I couldn’t help you -- it frightened me, Rook. And I am the sorry one.”

She reached up, laying her hand against his cheek. “What could you have to be sorry about?”

“If you -- feel as I do --” He ducked his head. “Then seeing Spite take control of me must be…” He exhaled heavily, and she looked at him, her eyes too bright. He closed his own, hesitating.

“Before, I did not wish you to see me that way for my own sake. But now I wonder if you felt this same fear as I did. Seeing the woman I--” Not that word, not yet. But… soon. “-- care about, struggling against what could not be controlled, knowing I could do nothing to save you --”

She gazed into his eyes, then rested her head on his shoulder again, drawing him close once more. “Lucanis, you never need to apologize for who you are. For what Spite is. If I worry for you, that’s mine to bear. What was it you said before? ‘I deserve better than you and your mess’? Well, it’s too late for that now. It’s our mess.”

She felt so right in his arms, solid and true, warm and close. He bowed his head over her. “Our mess. I think I can handle that.”

She laughed, warm huffs of breath against his neck. He shivered. Oh, but she felt good this way.

“Lucanis?”

“Yes, Rook?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“But of course.”

She sat up, the smile on her face fading. “Would you… stay the night tonight?”

For a moment his mind whited out, Spite curious and cackling in the background, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. Rook’s face flashed immediately with understanding, and she rested her hand on his vest. 

“Not for that. I’m exhausted, and I know you’re not ready,” Rook said gently. “I just meant, could we fall asleep together?”

He felt a smile slide over his face. To hold her in his arms for longer, to wake up beside her in the morning? That would be a fine thing indeed.

“I am yours, Rook.”

---

They did not sleep at first; there was still much talking to do of the elves, of the gods, of Treviso and the Antaam. Her determination and her clever plans were just as intriguing to him as her smile and her laugh. But when at last Rook’s eyes fluttered closed and her breathing grew deep and heavy, Lucanis leaned back against the settee, finding a way for them to fit together. Her elbows nudged his ribs, and her chin was somehow dagger-sharp, digging into his breastbone. But she was warm and soft and safe within his arms, and he fell asleep beneath the Fadelight, his fears at last forgotten.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Buck can’t bake anymore.

He’s sick of it. Sick of lemon loaf waiting forever on the kitchen counter and of Baked Alaska melting in his fridge.

The sweet relief of the moment changed into bitter memories that feel like ash in his mouth now.

He can’t bake anymore. So he turned back to pasta, pancakes and omelette. Back to pans and spices and knives. He serves his meals at the firehouse, wiping his hands on his apron, nervously waiting for reactions. Because it seems to be good. But he can never be sure it’s good enough. 

Will I ever be good enough for someone to stay? 

“It’s really good, Buck,” Hen assures him. Chimney nods, his mouth full of lasagna. Bobby helps himself to a second serving already. Eddie licks sauce from the corner of his mouth, grins, and calls Buck a chef. “Is there something you’re not telling us?” He asks teasingly. “Were you offered a position at a 5-star restaurant?”

And Buck laughs dutifully. But inside, he still feels that ache that never quite goes away. It’s better now. But it’s still there. Not good enough. Not enough. Not enough for something that lasts forever. Not ...

“This smells delicious,” a new voice adds quietly behind him.

Buck’s head perks up. His breath hitches and his heart seems to stop for a whole beat before restarting at a more frantic pace. No. It can’t be. He can’t be here, right? Just … like that? Now?!

He slowly turns his head. And there he is. Tommy. He’s real.

He’s standing there, wearing his turnouts, wringing his hands, blue eyes flickering back and forth. And the first thing Buck feels is rage. Because … what the hell? Here? Now? Like this? 

His first instinct is to yell. But he's frozen. Can’t decide what to say. Or do. He’s frozen. And after the initial shock, he has time to take Tommy in. Really take him in.

He looks ... drained. More gaunt than Buck has ever seen him. His hair is tousled and his posture expresses exhaustion. His eyes are redrimmed and his skin is a little too pale to pass as normal. In fact, Tommy looks like he's been through hell. Buck doesn't know what to think or feel. He just stares and Tommy fidgets and everyone around them is too quiet, the moment stretching until the silence roars in Buck's ears.

“Hey Tommy,” Chimney finally says, after swallowing a mouth full of lasagna, smiling after sharing a glance with Hen. “Are you … okay?”

So they can all see it too, Buck thinks. They can all see the numbness of terror in Tommy’s eyes. The too-thin line of his mouth. The ghostly paleness of his skin. They can all see it. Something happened. What happened? Or ... Is it the breakup? That angry part of Buck hopes it's the breakup. Hopes Tommy had his share of suffering, longing, wondering, breaking ... But he somehow feels like it's something different.

Tommy clears his throat. “I … I’m sorry. My phone is broken. I didn't want to intrude. But I drove by and I thought ..."

“Sit,” Buck says. Quietly. But sternly.

Tommy blinks. “I …”

“Sit. And eat.” Buck points at the free seat on the table. And - of course, it’s Tommy’s old place, he realises then. Sometimes it sends a chill down his back to think about the fact that he basically took Tommy’s place at the 118 only for them to meet years later. It could have been such a romantic fact. A string of fate connecting them through the 118. But … well. Tommy dumping him cut into that string like a knife.

Tommy is still hesitating. Looks like a deer in the headlights, a second away from turning away and running. Again. Just like he ran after he decided to end the relationship. Coward , Buck can’t help to think. That’s the angry part of him, he knows. The part that wants to punch walls, shatter glass and scream in Tommy’s face.

“You look like you could use some food,” Bobby says calmly. “Regain some energy,” Hen adds, matter-of-factly.

“It’s really good lasagna. You don’t want to miss it,” Chimney chimes in. “Especially not after a long shift.”

“I think I just heard your stomach growl, man,” Eddie says, pointing his fork at Tommy.

“Okay,” Tommy says, finally, his shoulders sagging with the relief of the decision.

He sits. Buck loads a massive lasagna heap on a plate and puts it in front of Tommy. After a moment and another subtle glance between Buck and Tommy, everyone starts talking again. They do their best to be a distraction. To make it seem like this is a normal thing. As if nothing happened. And Tommy eats. He finishes his plate. Then eats some more. He makes some small talk, smiles a few times, nods and even laughs one time about something Eddie tells him. But.

But Buck sees what no one else sees. He sees behind the facade of facial expressions. And what he observes makes the worry nag at him with sharpening teeth. It’s the way the smile never reaches Tommy’s eyes. They remain distant. Clouded and numb. Something happened. Something bad. And of course, Tommy isn’t talking about it. But it was bad enough to have him come here. Just like that. So it has to be really bad.

Eventually, Tommy clears his throat and pushes his chair back. “Thank you for the food. It was really good. I should go home now.”

“I’m going to drive you,” Buck says. It’s a heartbeat decision. Almost surprising himself. But it’s the right thing to do. He can feel it.

Tommy looks startled. “You … you don’t have to.”

Buck sets his jaw. “I want to.”

“My truck …”

“You can pick it up tomorrow,” Buck says. “Not a problem.”

The others fell silent and are watching the conversation between them, not saying anything.

Tommy swallows, his discomfort clearly growing now that so many people are looking at him. He’s already pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Buck knows why. Of course, he does. He knows Tommy is fidgeting with something, trying to calm his nerves. Oh. He knows this man so well, doesn’t he? But apparently not well enough. Not well enough to be with him forever, like he imagined. The rage curls around Buck’s heart again. “Alright,” Tommy finally says, giving in.

For the tevan advent calendar day 21: Trauma / PTSD

(Continue reading: AO3)

[dysphoric-bitch-boy]

OP men when you’re on your period

Doffy -lol good luck -physically couldn’t give less of a shit if he tried -wants to fuck -calls you gross

Crocodile -he’s been through this shit so he’s sticking with you -buys you fancy chocolates -gets you ibuprofen -if he has time he’ll watch a movie with you -god help him if it’s titanic -genuinely comforts you and stays by you as much as possible

Corazon -has heard of chocolate on your period so he gets you some -you ask him for pads and he’s wholly confused -“overnight? Light flow? Medium flow? HEAVY flow?” -“yeah I’m in the pad isle what size vagina do you wear?” -“so you DONT shed skin on your period?” -overall he has no idea what the hell he’s doing but he’s doing everything he can to make sure you’re comfortable -gently holds you like an egg and cries to titanic with you -“Laaaaaawwww it’s so sad join us pleeease!” -he eventually wears Law down enough to watch it with you two

Law -he’s a doctor who actually knows how periods and people who get them work -he knows to get you chocolates, pads, ibuprofen, heating pad, etc -kinda bad with emotions so if you’re super emotional he doesn’t know how to navigate it -lets you rest your head on his shoulder as you cry to titanic

Buggy -like Corazon, has no idea what to do -starts panicking about what happens if you get super angry at him or what if you’re so depressed you can’t even eat or what happens if you lose all your blood or- -does everything he can to help you, if the cramps are really bad he cuddles you until you feel better -walking on eggshells to not upset you even tho a lot of its unnecessary -treats you like royalty -you’d definitely save him from an attack or something and he’d ease up about most of his worries -he’d throw you a banquet in celebration and also in relief -“WHAT????? You’re telling me these come EVERY MONTH?????????”

Sanji -bro is already a huge simp -but on your period you’re not allowed to even lift a finger if he has anything to say about it -makes you plenty of protein-rich meals and chocolaty French stuff -gives you all the attention and love he can give and more, which may or may not get super annoying really quickly -knows nothing about pads so he just buys them all for you -literally every single product in the isle -it’s fucking expensive but he’d do just about anything for you especially since you’re the only one who’d date him

Zoro -wtf??? -doesn’t have the slightest idea of what a period is -thinks you’re joking -“okay, so you’re telling me once a month you bleed in your pants to prepare for getting pregnant? Nice try, everyone knows that the stork brings the baby-“ -don’t even bother with him

Franky -tries to invent you a device that captures the blood and gently heats your lower stomach -if you ask for ibuprofen or anything like that he might just bring you cola instead -“I don’t know about you but this stuff makes me feel suuuuper! I’m sure it will work on your cramps and get you back to your normal, energetic self!” -it doesn’t work

Brook -sad that you’re wearing the period underwear instead of panties



[dewdropdinosaur]

Smutmas Day 9 - Egg-Snog

Alastor x Deer Demon! Reader Summary: You are a deer demon, and so is he. But what happens when your deerest puns get a little too much fawning over? Warnings: Fingering, cum, use of pet names(cher, my dear), slight sub/dom dynamics if you squint, very obnoxious puns, etc. MDNI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Requested by @dragbunstudios Hope you enjoy!

The Hazbin Hotel was anything but calm normally, but tonight, the noise level had reached new heights—or perhaps, new lows. It started innocently enough: Alastor had pranced into the lobby with his usual swagger, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. Y/N, lounging in one of the chairs, twitched their velvety deer ears at the sound of his vintage voice. Alastor had been in a particular mood as for late, much to the annoyance of several other hotel residents, though that never detered him. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Alastor greeted, his red eyes glinting with mischief. “What a deer-lightful surprise to find you here tonight!”

Y/N’s nose twitched, matching his energy effortlessly. “Oh, I’m just trying to stay out of tr-hoof-le. You know how it is.” They flicked their fluffy tail for emphasis.

Angel Dust, perched on the sofa with his legs sprawled dramatically, groaned. “Oh, for Lucifer’s sake, not this again.”

But Alastor was already cackling. “You, stay out of trouble? Fawn-tastic joke, my friend!”

“Oh, it’s no bull,” Y/N countered, leaning forward with a playful smirk. “Unlike you, who’s clearly just stag-ing for attention.”

“HA!” Alastor clapped his hands together. “Touché, my dear! Touché!”

Across the room, Husk muttered into his half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Why don’t you two just get a room already?”

Vaggie slammed her hands on the bar. “Seriously, do we have to listen to this? It’s like watching two sitcom dads try to flirt!”

Charlie, the ever-optimistic hotel owner, giggled behind her hand. “I think it’s adorable!”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t pop out of his head. “Adorable, schmadorable. They’ve been dancing around each other like this for weeks. Either they start locking lips, or I’m locking them in a room together until they do!”

“Angel!” Charlie scolded, though her blush betrayed her amusement.

Meanwhile, Y/N and Alastor were still locked in their pun-filled duel. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” Alastor said, leaning casually against his cane. “Are you fawn-d of me, or is this all just a game?”

“Oh, I herd you the first time,” Y/N teased, their nose twitching again. “But maybe you should stop deer-tering me to respond and make a move yourself.”

For a moment, Alastor faltered—not that anyone else would notice. His smile remained intact, but the tiniest twitch of his ear betrayed his surprise. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “A bold challenge! I always love those, cher~”

Husk’s ears flattened against his head, letting out a low whisper from behind his beer bottle. “Kill me now.”

Angel Dust slapped the table with his hand. “Okay, okay, that’s it. If you two don’t kiss by the end of the night, I’m stepping in to make it happen.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, their lips quirking into a sly grin. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that, Angel?”

“Easy!” Angel Dust leaned forward with a wicked grin. “I’ll make you two the starring act in my next performance—‘The Lusty Antlers of Passion.’ You won’t be able to resist!”

“Angel!” Charlie squeaked, her face as red as a cherry.

Alastor merely chuckled, tapping his cane against the floor. “While I appreciate the offer, Angel, I think Y/N and I can handle things on our own. After all—” He glanced at Y/N with a sly wink. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Y/N tilted their head, their tail swishing. “Well, I’m not one to rush, but I’d hate to keep you pining for too long.”

Alastor’s grin widened, and for once, there was a flicker of genuine warmth behind his crimson eyes. “Then perhaps we should continue this conversation... elsewhere?”

As the two of them strolled out of the lobby, their laughter echoing behind them, Angel Dust threw his arms up in victory. “FINALLY! Took them long enough.”

Husk groaned, pouring himself another drink. “I need a vacation.”

Charlie sighed happily, her hands clasped in front of her chest. “Love really does bloom in the strangest places.”

Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not love. It’s deer puns. Endless, insufferable deer puns.”

But as Alastor and Y/N disappeared around the corner, their tails swishing in perfect harmony, it was clear to everyone else in the hotel: this was more than just a passing fancy. 

Deep in the hallway, as the two demon walks quietly, the jokes seemed to vanish. An awkward silence filling the space as each had a small tint on their cheeks, hearts pounding. However, in a moment born of incessant desperation to end such a silence, Alastor stopped and faced Y/N. 

“Cher, would it…be too much to ask you if you mean your words earlier?”

Facing him with a small smile, Y/N’s hand came to rest comfortingly on the lapel of Alastor’s suit. “I meant every word, Al.” 

“Then I hope you won’t mind—“

Before Y/N could even respond, Alastor pinned Y/N against wall, trapping them between his arms before locking their lips in a soft but passionate kiss. Pulling his mouth away to trail wet kises down the valley of their neck, Y/N’s hands came up to tug in his hair as a breathy sigh spilled past his lips. Alastor’s hands slowly dipped low, deft fingers trailing down the the waistband of their pants, pulling them softly in a request. Y/N nodded quickly, eyes rolling into the back of their head as his lips still continued worshiping their neck. 

Pulling down the offending garment, panties and all, Y/N was left half bare before the heated and intense gaze of the Radio Demon. Licking his lips hungrily, Alastor drug a finger along the slit, pleasently surpised to find it already so wet and inviting. Bringing his hand back up, he sucked the juices from his finger with a low grumble of appreciation. 

“Absolutely deer-vine, cher.”

Allowing his hand to flow back down, he plunged two fingers into their warm cunt, marveling at the way its walls constricted around him in desire. Y/N bit their lip, a desperate whine eeking past, body overflowing with arousal. Alastor’s face now was painted with a devilish smirk, speeding up only to hear those exact whimpers escape and reign freely for him to here. Relishing in all the delicious noises that came to pass through his partner’s puffy lips. His fingers curled up, hitting that delicious spot inside Y/N that nearly had her screaming, hands coming to grip his shoulders tightly. 

Pannting as they squirmed ontop of him; the coil in theur stomach became too tight to ignore as his fingers continued their onslaught. 

“Al—“

A blinding hot flash of liquid pours out of their overstimulated pussy without warning,, soaking the Radio Demon’s hand in release as he continues to pump into them; working Y/N through their high. 

“That’s it, cher. Looking so pretty for me.”

After a moment, letting them catch their breath, Alastor removed his fingers and wipes them unceremoinsuly on his trousers. Looking back up at them with half-lidded but lust blown eyes, he spoke once more. 

“Fawned of another round, my dear?”

[x-sour-hearts-x]

watch me scramble over my oc and make a yap that makes no sense lvl10000

I have no idea how to use tumblr replies I usually just reblog normally but I got hyped when I remembered I had a Creepypasta oc (I don’t tell people they are Creepypasta ocs because I’m scared of judgement…LMAO)

Anywho meet hesperia and Alex!!! I’ll do a rough lore dump I don’t have the energy to go into the full thing just because it’s been brewing in my mind so much

Buttttt basically we have hesperia and we have Alex they are two sisters who escaped a cult at a young age, hesperia is older and Alex is younger for reference for what’s to come. They escaped and are like what the flip we have to go somewhere!! So they wander out to a cabin in the surrounding woods where they meet this hunter who takes them in, raises Alex has a weird relationship with hesperia. It’s toxic to say the least she was 14 when she escaped the cult after all. Alex starts forming these beliefs like what this isn’t normal after a few years, they plan to escape but hesperia is still on the edge she’s like …I don’t know if we should do this yadayadayada he gave us a home yap yap yap, but they go through with it anyways and try to run away. Last minute hesperia goes back Alex DOES NOT stop running through this cold forest she’s beat up by the bushes from just running for hours then she’s like oh god hesperia is back there what happened. She crept back because she’s stupid and saw hesperia had been eaten by this man, after eating this poor girl he shit himself with his rifle. Obviously she’s like oh god hesperia is dead what do which is reasonable because she’s 15-16 can’t drive or anything like that because she’s been living in this cabin with this man who does everything for them. after that there’s a hole I have yet to fix in the story I don’t know how she falls into the whole slenderman thing or whatever I just know she does.

UMMMMMM yeah sorry that’s so cringy and rushed when I get excited I type too fast and use brainrot it’s..bad

But I think boni and Alex interacting would be so cool!!! Especially because the only female Alex really had in her life was hesperia (ignoring the cult people) so she would probably try to get close to boni in literally any way possible god knows how that would end

anyways have some Alex art!! (Hesperia has no design she is a concept entirely) All this art was either done by other people through art trades in July on art fight or trades or freebies!! All the art I have made of her is a scavenger hunt to find.

i want... to do... OC interactions... i wanna do... collab comics... i want... bonnie to have friends........ shouts.

[sweet-s0rr0w]

day 20 of @hprecfest - a fic with fanart

Heart Like Neon by @lqtraintracks - E, 41k, 2020, with art by @bluebutter-art

Summary: Bored of being The Chosen One, Harry discovers he rather likes sex and becomes a professional. He’s good at it, and part of why is that he can read people. Not minds, not Legilimens, but their whole self, and he can give them what they don’t even know they want. Enter Draco fucking Malfoy, enigma to everyone, including himself. Harry can’t help but want to break into him, to figure him out. And Draco, thinking he’ll fuck Potter on a lark, has no idea what he’s in for.

Excerpt:

He’s not sure if he expected some form of resistance, but that’s not what he gets. Potter blooms against him, his lips parting readily, hot breath exhaled on an aroused sigh. He kisses Draco back, instantly deep and hot and sexual. He lets Draco press him back hard, runs his hands up under Draco’s jumper and onto his bare back. Draco hears a thunk and realises he’s dropped the wine in order to grip Potter by the fabulous arse and tug him closer. Potter breathes a seductive little laugh against Draco’s lips. But there’s no artifice in it. It’s only seductive because it’s so fucking genuine. Draco shuts him up, and Potter hums contentedly into the kiss.

The lift dings their floor, and even then they’re slow to step away. It takes a moment to do anything other than look at Potter’s flushed face, at the swell of his lower lip, the heavy dilation of his eyes. It’s Potter who reaches out quickly to stop the doors from closing on them once more.

But before they step out, Draco has to give voice to this nagging feeling inside. “That thing you do,” he says. “Are you doing it right now?”

Potter looks at him steadily. “No, I’m not.”

Draco nods. “Good. I don’t want you to. Not tonight.”

“I won’t,” Potter says, hand still staying the lift doors, hair dishevelled by Draco’s hand, pulse beating hard beneath his jaw.

Draco snatches up the wine bottle, and they step out into the hall.

This is one of my absolute favourite LQT fics. I always tell the story of the day it posted, when I took my kids on a playdate, and claimed, er, tummy issues, so I could lock myself in the bathroom and finish it! Ah, fandom life. This fic just really hits the spot, every time. It's so well paced, I always think, and Drarry are a brilliant match; Harry really self-assured, Draco faking confidence in a slightly arrogant way, but underneath anxious and uncertain. The sex is obviously super hot, and I love the way each sex scene feels like it really has a purpose in driving the story and the relationship forwards. The ending of this fic is cinematic and romantic, illustrated to chefskiss perfection by one of my favourite artists (and people), @bluebutter-art. Big rec, for both creators!

If you read it, and especially if you love it, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3

day 1 - first fic you remember reading

day 2 - a fic rated G

day 3 - a fic not on ao3

day 4 - a comfort fic

day 5 - a romantic fic

day 6 - a fic for a ship you don’t normally read

day 7 - the best of your OTP

day 8 - a fic that was recced to you

day 9 - a WIP

day 10 - a fest/event fic

day 11 - an underrated fic

day 12 - a fic from your favourite author

day 13 - a rare pair

day 14 - a fic rated T

day 15 - a fic over 50k

day 16 - a podfic

day 17 - a fic that makes you cry

day 18 - a fic that makes you laugh

day 19 - fanart

[rinabin]

arcade

the door chimes as you and ningning enter the arcade. the place is quaint but decorated with old video game posters and machines giving it personality. scanning the room for your friends, you spot sohee and seunghan immersed in the pinball machine. as the two of you walk over to them, ningning slows down. “isn’t that wonbin and shotaro?” she questions, looking towards to the guys hovering over another machine as you follow her gaze. seeing wonbin in person again, you internally cringe as you’re reminded of your last interaction. determined to make up for the horrific first impression, you begin to walk over to the unfamiliar guys instead. “come on, let’s go say hi.”

by the time you make it over to the boys, their game has ended, relieving you of the awkwardness of hovering around and waiting. feeling a tap on his shoulder, wonbin turns around, confused, until his big brown eyes meet yours. “hi,” you say, extending a hand and giving him a small smile. “i told u i’d be normal the next time we met.” as wonbin returns your handshake, he chuckles out, “that you did. hi again.” letting go of his hand, you look over to shotaro. “you’re shotaro, i presume?” “mhm,” he responds with a big smile, “but you can call me taro. shotaro is too formal.” nodding your head, you look over to ningning as you introduce her. ningning compliments them on their outfits, prompting the guys to thank her. 

not wanting the conversation to stall, you ask wonbin and shotaro what they were playing before you and ningning got there. as wonbin opens his mouth to answer, he gets interrupted by seunghan tackling you in a hug. “YNNNNNN.” stumbling back, you let out a giggle as you hug seunghan back. “what’s with this greeting?” letting go of you, seunghan grins and shrugs, saying it was just cause, as he begins to tackle ningning next. looking over to wonbin, now standing alone watching the scene unfold, you give him a smile, asking where shotaro went. pointing over to sohee and shotaro, “sohee stole him”, wonbin responds with a gentle smile. as you look over at shotaro and sohee, there is only one thought running through your head: wonbin has a really pretty smile. fuck.

just as the implications of the thought begin to consume you, the rest of your friends roll into the arcade. minjeong grabs your arm, pulling you toward the pac-man machine, saving you from your deranged brain as you wave bye to wonbin.

plopping down on the empty couch in the lounge, you open your phone and scroll for a few minutes until you feel another presence next to you. looking over to the seat beside you, you see wonbin. “we meet again. what are you doing here by yourself?” he breathes out. placing your phone in your lap, you mutter, “eunseok and sohee have beat me in practically every game in here. there’s nothing for me but humiliation waiting out there.” wonbin raises his eyebrows. “not a gamer?” you scoff. “the only game i’ve ever played is bad ice-cream when i was 8. i don’t know why i agreed to this hangout.” wonbin hums in response as he looks out into space. a comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you begin scrolling on your phone again. 

after a couple of moments, you feel wonbin get up. “come on, let’s go.” looking up at him from your phone, you see him gesturing you to get up. you tilt your head and look around in confusion before asking if he’s talking to you.“yes, you. get up. i’m gonna teach you how to play some games. i can’t let eunseok walk around with a bigger ego than he already has,” wonbin smirks, nodding his head toward the games. you let out a snort at the comment. still sitting, fiddling with your phone, you let a moment pass as you think about it. with a sigh, you place your phone into your pocket. “you’re right. the only person who should have a big ego around here is me.” wonbin shakes his head in amusement as he begins to walk back into the gaming section, and you follow behind him.

masterlist

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a/n: first written part, tell me what you guys think... also i think arcade dates are some of the cutest type of dates who agree?

taglist [send an ask or comment to be added] : @antosaurius @jkeydiary @cherrytaesan

[honeyhour]

“i’d say the fact that we’re even in this position right now proves that we have, at least somewhat.” when they were truly in the thick of it, she never would have dreamed they would be capable of reconciling like this one day. it all felt so overwhelming back then that any possible light at the end of the tunnel was entirely obscured and it had been exhausting every step of the way. “i’m not normally someone who yells or gets mean… or at least i never used to be. i hate it. i don’t think it suits me very well.” though she feels defenceless without it, she really doesn’t want to be angry at him anymore. it turned her into something she isn’t proud of — something ugly — and all she ever got from it in return was more hardships and alarmingly high blood pressure. “this feels a lot more like me again, right down to being charmed by those good looks and amazing personality. you can tell your parents that i will absolutely blame them for that.”

"with the way we often screamed at each other, it's hard to tell." and he wouldn't have blamed her either way for moving on. hell, up until tonight, that's exactly what bash believed. "my fault? i was born with good looks and an amazing personality — you'll have to blame my mother and father for that," he chuckles a bit louder this time, breaking the solemnity of his previous statement. by the look on her face, she wasn't too thrilled about it either. "oh don't look at me like that..." his laugh-induced smile turns downward, hoping to spar directly with that look of disapproval. "i'm not trying to demean myself for no reason, liliana. we had this conversation before we spent the last who knows how long revisiting all of the nice things. we eventually chose to split for the right reasons as well. wouldn't have been fair to either one of us at the time but maybe we've changed. maybe we've grown for the better."

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

people tell me I send them mixed emotions

I’m a conservative but I don’t look like one

I wear crop tops and they’re just t-shirts cut a little and don’t worry they’re not those ugly bra kind those lgbt people wear 😓 just a normal cut t shirt and I wore one to a Trump rally and no one said a thing :’3

but I am a Trump conservative but I don’t like the Republican Party i think they are just as corrupt and bad like the democrats

I am a anti Ukraine and Anti Russia guy…both countries are the same, one is smaller and the other is just the steroid monkey with dictators who need to share a jail cell

Yeah is something wrong with me

Most conservatives these days don't really look like traditional suit-and-polo conservatives. I've seen right wing punks, right wing goths, right wing emos, right wingers in crop tops and other revealing clothing, right wing thugs, right wing cholos, right wing Natives, the list goes on. MAGA has truly opened up the "big tent" to people who never would have felt welcome even ten years ago. So, there's nothing at all wrong with you. Nothing. At. All.

[esoteric-crow]

hey actually isn’t there something kind of really sad about the fact that the hardest difficulty (that isn’t just like. hell or hell. which is just ‘haha hehe Blow up.’) is called Dante Must Die. i think about it a lot. i can’t quite put my finger on why it makes me miserable but maybe someone else can.

but you know what i CAN talk about and i DO have actual fully formed thoughts about?

regenerating like crazy is great. but isn’t there something kind of inherently fucked up about the fact that, because of the regeneration dante and vergil have, neither of them will ever have tangible evidence to themselves or others of their suffering? asking themselves, was it really that bad? did it even happen at all? no matter how much you put vergil through hell and how afraid he is inside, there will never be a mark on his skin that says “i have suffered”. the world leaves no proof, nothing to take home from this experience aside from a more broken mind. vergil doesn’t say his feelings, or even allow them to surface properly, because that’s a kind of vulnerability he cannot handle. the only way he could perhaps earn someone’s sympathetic care is by expressing what he has suffered through, but he cannot verbalize that. and he looks perfect. unmarked by time or trauma. there isn’t a single part of his body that could scream out for him that something horrible has happened that he cannot figure out how to deal with alone.

and dante is just as poor off. and he’s very difficult to figure out emotionally to a passerby. dante purposefully puts on a happy face every day, and to the majority of the world, it’s convincing. there’s certainly no evidence to themselves contrary. not a scratch on him. but he is like kind of constantly getting the ever loving fuck beat out of him. stabbed and jabbed. when you look at him, you see happy, sweet, goofy dante. for all the years of pain he’s gone through, there isn’t a single marred inch of his skin that could tell you even a day of the agony unless he told you. and why would dante do that when he can pretend it simply isn’t happening until he’s alone and can sit with the terror that’s constantly in him and the loss he’s been living with, over and over losing people and being surrounded by the ghosts of their presence. whether the ghost is a wayward descendent, a gun, or just a lingering smell of ash in his childhood home. but that will only be private. he can be the walking dead, he can treat himself like shit, but his body refuses to show anything for it. and he’s certainly not going to die.

obviously, the same thing can be said for the opposite side of the spectrum: scars can be a constant reminder in the mirror of what happened that you cannot erase, always to some degree a part of you. among other stuff. so both sides of the coin are full of The Pains and The Anguishes.

on a side note, i really like when people give them like, one scar. i don’t really have a favorite one that people give vergil but i really like dante with just the one bigass gnarly one in the middle of his abdomen from the rebellion gettin jammed in there. his One scar. a treate. like it defies his regeneration somehow.

i love making a scarred up guy. i have plenty of scars n marks myself, and i feel like they should definitely be more normalized, so like, no this post isn’t anti scars or something. they’re normal and not ugly or whatever the hell people try to say. this side note is probably entirely unnecessary, but i’m tired and i’m worried about someone misunderstanding me i think. anyway i’m trying to say ooh scar angst yeah but sometimes No scars is also fucked up too. that’s the point here.

to sum up: i believe there can be something Fucked Up and angsty to be said about the fact that the sparda boys heal perfectly fine, but only externally. it is 3am. this is not articulated as well as it could be i don’t think. aaaand post.

[justwater4meeeeeeeee]

Hey, you are such a pro!! Do you have any tips for avoiding food and alcohol while spending time with family? I’m really freaked out right now because of Christmas and new year’s coming up. I worked a lot on my weight for the past week and lost 2.8kg!! Also, I’m almost at my gw. I’m afraid I’ll ruin the whole thing because of social pressure. I want to enjoy time with friends and family, I just don’t want to eat 🥲 Do you have a list of excuses for not eating? I thought about just pretending to be sick for the whole time. But from tomorrow until January 1st there are 12 days which is a long time for being sick 🫣

For alcohol I just tell them that I don’t drink anymore since is not good for my body, or you can have water on a cup (throw the alcohol away when nobody is looking and put some water in your cup instead) that way you can stay away from alcohol and nobody asks you anything <3

You can be like “ughh my stomach hurts so much, I think I catch a stomach bug”

“My throat hurts, this x food doesn’t feel good right now”

“I am going vegan now”

Also, don’t forget that is okay to say “No thank you” we need to normalize saying no to food and for people to accept that we just don’t want to eat certain foods rn

You can also say that you are doing paleo or keto. That you are trying to eat organic food. Or that you avoid cane sugar or certain oils because of how bad are they scientifically proven that are bad for your body and brain.

Are some ideas that come to my mind rn, if I have another idea I’ll post it or if any of my moots have any other excuses they can leave it in the comments <33

[fkinkindagauche]

All I Ever Wanted Help With Was You

Finally time to post my fic for @steddieexchange! It's for Dorian (Sal3m_hfc on AO3). Hope you enjoy!

Also using this for a @steddiebingo 2025 Round One prompt, Vampire AU.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 8,651 | Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Vampire Eddie Munson, Human Steve Harrington, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, There Was Only One Bed, Virgin Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, First Time, Blood Drinking, Size Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Jason Carver Being an Asshole

Summary: Steve agrees to help Eddie out by pretending to be his human companion for a vampire gathering.

Read the whole thing on AO3.

“Steve. Stevie. My dearest friend. I need your help,” Eddie pleads, slumping onto the couch next to Steve. 

They’re at Robin’s place getting ready to watch a movie. Eddie is, as usual, all up in Steve’s space. Steve refuses to shift away from him. He won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing he makes Steve uncomfortable. 

“With what, Eddie?” Steve sighs, wondering what the hell Eddie’s gotten himself into this time. 

“There’s this thing happening the weekend before Christmas,” Eddie says. “A vampire thing, with the coven I’m trying to join. It’s some sort of Midwinter festival, a weekend of, like, sensual partying I guess? At this estate up in Michigan.”

“How could I possibly help you with that?” Steve asks, puzzled.

“Well, see. I got invited by this vampire I met last week, Chrissy,” Eddie explains, putting his hand on Steve’s thigh. That’s fine. Steve can be normal about this. “She’s kind of a higher-up in the coven leadership. But I don’t wanna go alone, because the invitation specifically gives me a plus one, for a human or vampiric companion. And I don’t wanna be that one guy who shows up companionless.”

“A companion… is that, like, a date?” Steve is even more perplexed.

“Typically it does connote a sexual relationship,” Eddie concedes, “unless the vampire is asexual. Which I am most certainly not.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Steve is well aware that Eddie’s not asexual. Eddie tells all of them, at length, about the fantastic sex he has with the people he feeds from. He says that vampire bites are an aphrodisiac, and his willing victims can’t help but jump his bones afterwards.

“You want me to… find you a companion? I’m not a pimp, Eddie,” Steve grumbles. 

“No!” Eddie yells. “I want you to pretend to be my companion. You’ve got the whole pretty rich boy thing going. It would look good, showing them I could net someone like you.” 

Steve blushes, unable to hold back his reaction to the backhanded praise from Eddie. He fixates on the word “pretend” to make sure he doesn’t get his hopes up. “I have to work,” Steve protests. 

Eddie groans. “Don’t you get, like, vacation time? Isn’t that a human thing?”

“You were a human one year ago,” Steve points out. Eddie has a tendency to talk like he’s a decades-old vampire who’s seen things, and Steve always likes to bring him down a notch.

Eddie waves a hand dismissively. “I’ve forgotten many of the human traditions since then.”

Steve snorts. “If you can get Keith to give me the time off, I’ll come with you.” He doesn’t think that’s even remotely possible. Keith hates Steve, and loves to make him work on weekends, so he figures it’s a good way to say no without having to actually say no.

Eddie nods. “Challenge accepted,” he says, squeezing Steve’s thigh and getting up to go help Robin with the popcorn. If Steve has to adjust himself following Eddie’s hand’s proximity to his upper thigh after that, no one needs to know.

Eddie somehow convinces Keith to give Steve the time off. Steve suspects drugs were involved, but Eddie claims he’s just that persuasive. Steve, who had been sure there was no way he’d get a whole weekend off at the last minute, has backed himself into a corner.

“But… what are we even going to do the whole weekend?” Steve whines after Eddie tells him the news. 

“There’s going to be activities,” Eddie says vaguely.

“What kind? Vampiric mini golf?” Steve quips, hands on hips.

“I’m not actually sure,” Eddie mutters, looking thoughtful.

“You’re taking me to a vampire convention and you don’t even know what’s going to happen there?” 

“Aww, don’t be scared, Stevie,” Eddie teases. “I’ll protect you from all the vampires.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a fledgling.”

Eddie raises a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me. I’ll have you know I’m an extremely precocious vampire. Wise and powerful beyond my years.”

Steve snorts. Robin walks back in from the bathroom, sitting on the couch next to Steve. “Eddie’s making me go to the vampire thing to be his little bitch,” Steve announces. 

Robin laughs. “Did you have to give Keith a blowjob to make that happen, Eddie?”

“Yes,” Eddie replies. “It was so good he offered to give Steve paid leave for the rest of his life, but I told him no need, I just need Steve for the weekend.”

“You do have a really big mouth,” Steve says, very pleased he’s actually able to get a blush out of Eddie. It’s rare, usually Eddie’s the one making Steve blush, but every once in a while Steve gets him.

“You guys are gross.” Robin cringes, sticking her tongue out at them. 

“Pretty sure you got us onto this particular topic, Birdie,” Eddie interjects. 

Robin ignores him. “Are you sure it’s going to be safe? For Steve?”

“I can take care of myself,” Steve grumbles. 

“Everyone’s allowed to bring a human companion, safety guaranteed by the coven,” Eddie assures. 

Steve sighs and slumps down on the couch. There’s probably no way out of this. And it will be nice to have a weekend away from Keith.

“Alright. Do I have to bring, like, fancy clothes?” Steve asks. He can’t imagine Eddie ever wearing anything other than jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket, but he’s trying to lean into the vampirism thing a little more these days. 

“The invitation said there’s going to be a ball, which is black tie.”

“Eddie, do you even know what black tie means?” Steve asks. 

“Well, I assume, Steven, that it means I need a black tie,” Eddie snarks.

Steve sighs and drops his head into his hands. “We’re gonna need to go shopping.”

Read the whole thing on AO3.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics.