#feel much more comfortable making things now i guess!

[rainachaeri]

She does, and with some stuffed dollies too :D No favorites though. They're pretty much just for the aesthetics

Absolutely! But I don't think she'd see animals as pets since they're more like friends to her. Not sure about the child one, she's gonna need a lot of help (hehe) with taking care of one.

I dont get this question, cuz I myself know who her love interests are but she doesn't yet. Should she still describe them anyway? Is that what the answer is supposed to be here? Idk lol maybe I'd back on this another time.

Hell yeah

Yeah! About anything! Snakes, rocks, flags, the word hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia, the first 10 digits of pi, a snowflake, the evolution of microphones, and pretty much anything that would interest her, and there's a lot that would interest her!

No matter what, she'll trust her fellow deities advice (and herself) since they know. And Papyrus too. So far theres no specific person she won't listen to advice for just yet.

Silly. Smart. Stupid. As for how she'd describe herself: Human. Student. Girl. OR! She is a B, C, and D. :D

She likes puzzles, no matter how complex it can get.

Nope.

She's totally fine with the age she has now and it's definitely her age, yep! She didn't just make it up or anything nope.

She'll give it away :) (you'd question why she'd join the lottery in the first place, but she probably just wanted to know what would happen and how it worked)

She can enjoy it

She would if she had any :D

She wouldn't. People should enjoy what they want without guilt!

Well, school and work is definitely not a waste of time for her. Everything she puts time and effort on is no waste :D there's always something to learn from everything she tries or does

Whatever it is she wears now

Yes! They're just smaller, younger mortals!

*shrugs*

Technically yeah she would

Math I guess (and other sciences related to it), if she's around dumb people (like me). And no one probably likes mosquitoes, or cockroaches, or pretty much any insect or living being that people are typically disgusted with or afraid of, but she does :D

Idk probably if she no longer feels comfortable? She's not one to stay silent on the important things I think, if she realizes there's a pressing problem/issue in the relationship then she HAS to address it. If they fix it, good, if not, well, they tried, but there's no point forcing things when they simply don't work. It's gonna hurt a lot, but it's gonna hurt a lot more otherwise. There won't be a last straw.

Not sure if she likes it. If it's a really good pet name, she'll love it at best and if it's meh she's neutral about it at worst. Pet names are kinda harmless, so even if she doesn't like a nickname someone gives to her she'll shrug it off I think. Just mortal things she supposed, may as well let them at it. An exemption though if the petname is just so insulting to her (congrats if you managed to find a petname that would be insulting for her), and in that case NOPE please call her something else. Please. She's not one to use petnames either. She prefers addressing everyone with their name. Even the ones she's very close with

Novelty

Honesty

Possibility

Effort

Forgiveness

Maybe

Sliding down a rainbow and landing on a pot of gold. Sometimes the gold is a pile of candies. Sometimes they're cotton candies. Sometimes the pot is just liquid chocolate. (She intentionally dreams all this by the way)

She's not gonna like that question 😅

oc asks that reveal more than you think

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Ask them to describe their love interest.

Do they look good in red?

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

What age do they most want to be right now?

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Name one thing their parents taught them.

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

Do they like children?

Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

What do they like that nobody else does?

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Stability or novelty?

Honesty or charity?

Safety or possibility?

Talent or effort?

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Would they date a fixer-upper?

What recurring dreams do they have?

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

Support the author: all writing | book | ko-fi | Patreon

[narxcisse]

★ — You have a WHAT— !?

Pairing: Viktor x GN!Reader

CW: OnlyFans (don't do it in irl, have some self-love. 😐), modern au, suggestive, recording with him, implied sex(?

English isn't my native language

You’d been living with Viktor for a few months now, and while you two had settled into a comfortable roommate dynamic, there were still plenty of boundaries. Viktor was, after all, a reserved and intensely private person. You, on the other hand, were a little more… free-spirited.

That’s probably why the revelation hit him like a freight train.

It started innocently enough. Viktor had been borrowing your laptop to work on something after his own device had overheated. You had, of course, told him to go ahead without thinking about the open tabs you’d left behind.

The moment he opened the browser, his eyes widened. Your profile stared back at him—your stage name, the carefully curated content, and the glaringly obvious subscriber count. He blinked a few times, unsure if he was hallucinating.

By the time you walked into the living room, coffee in hand, Viktor was sitting there, your laptop on his knees, looking like he’d just uncovered a conspiracy.

“Care to explain this?” he asked, tilting the screen toward you.

Your blood ran cold as your eyes darted to the laptop. The tab. Oh, no.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, nearly spilling your coffee. “I, uh… can explain.”

Viktor arched an eyebrow, clearly amused despite the slight redness in his ears. “I certainly hope so.”

You set your coffee down, running a hand through your hair. “It’s not a big deal. It’s… a side hustle. Pays the bills. And it’s not like I’m doing anything illegal.”

He hummed, leaning back on the couch. “A side hustle, you say? Judging by your subscriber count, it’s a rather… successful one.”

You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or mortified. Maybe both. “Look, I didn’t think it was something you needed to know about. It’s just… a thing I do.”

Viktor tapped his fingers on the laptop, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m not judging,” he said finally. “I just… didn’t expect it. You’re quite bold.”

You huffed out a laugh, relieved that he wasn’t outright horrified. “Well, thank you, I guess?”

He smirked, closing the laptop and handing it back to you. “Just make sure to clear your browser history next time. And if you ever need help with… production or branding—”

“Viktor!”

He chuckled softly, standing up and grabbing his cane. “What? You know I have an eye for design. Let me know if you ever need a logo.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, though you couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it to Viktor to turn your most embarrassing moment into a business opportunity.

---

It started as a joke, one of those late-night conversations fueled by too much takeout and not enough sleep. Viktor had brought up your OF account in passing, teasing you lightly about your "entrepreneurial spirit." You’d laughed it off at first, but somehow, the idea of him being your co-star had slipped out.

He’d arched an eyebrow at the suggestion, his lips quirking in a smirk. “You’re serious?”

“I mean…” you trailed off, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Why not? You’re… well, you know, attractive. I think people would lose their minds.”

To your surprise, Viktor had actually considered it. He wasn’t shy, but he had a reserved, almost clinical approach to most things. “If it’s purely professional,” he’d said eventually, his tone careful but intrigued, “then I suppose I wouldn’t be opposed.”

And that’s how you found yourself here, in your shared bedroom, with the camera set up and Viktor sitting at the edge of your bed, looking almost too composed for what you were about to do.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, suddenly nervous.

Viktor adjusted his position, leaning on his cane with a slight smirk. “I don’t make decisions lightly. You, on the other hand, seem rather flustered for someone who does this regularly.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah, well, it’s not every day I film with my roommate.”

His gaze softened slightly, and he reached out, brushing his fingers against yours. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll take it slow.”

The camera started rolling, and all your nerves seemed to dissipate the moment his lips met yours. Viktor’s touch was deliberate, his movements precise as though he were approaching this like one of his experiments—focused, attentive, and surprisingly passionate.

You quickly realized that Viktor’s calm, calculated demeanor translated into an intensity you hadn’t anticipated. He was all in, every touch and movement deliberate, as if he wanted to ensure that this wasn’t just convincing on camera—it was unforgettable.

When it was over, you were both breathless, tangled in the sheets as the camera’s red light blinked softly in the corner of the room. Viktor let out a soft chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Well,” he said, his voice teasing, “I think that went rather well.”

You laughed, still catching your breath. “You’re a natural. I might have to recruit you more often.”

He smirked, his amber eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful. I might start demanding a share of the profits.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. “We’ll see about that.”

But as you lay there, Viktor’s arm draped lazily over your waist, you couldn’t help but think that this was definitely one of your better ideas.

— Guys, I found a dubious wifi connection, but I guess I'll use it until I have to go home lol.

[what-even-is-thiss]

I’m gonna loosely rant without direction for a minute.

I’ve been thinking a lot about being trans and religious in the last few days. I’m not exactly sure why. It’s just that this one thing keeps coming back to haunt me.

I’ve been happier and closer to God than ever before since I started transitioning. Never once have I felt that God had a problem with me being trans. My soul feels cleaner, happier, more open to the Holy Spirit even with all the other problems and anxieties in my life taken into account because even in my darkest moments now I’m still being my full self.

The thing that’s been bothering me is all these people out there who think I’m doing religion wrong because I’m not being who God made me to be or something when I feel like I’m being more of who God made me to be every day I get further away from the closet. God made my spirit and my mind just as much as he made my body so why is my body supposed to be the only factor in that?

What really bothers me is that people want me to give up what makes me happy, what strengthened my faith even, and go back to being sad and disconnected. And for what? Believing their interpretation of God is more valid than mine? For their comfort that’s for some reason more important than my comfort?

I would really like to work in a church or a religious college. I really would. But jobs with accepting congregations are few and far between. I feel like I have to spend my life moving between safe islands. I need to find my safe pockets and keep other Christians at a distance. And I hate that I have to do that. It weighs so heavily on me sometimes that they don’t believe my faith story.

I used to be the sort of person who would jump up and share my faith story at every opportunity with other Christians because I’m a convert that has stuck with my faith even through hard times. People love that shit. But now that my gender is a part of my story I feel like I either need to keep my mouth shut or lie. And I don’t want to lie so I keep my mouth shut.

I don’t really have a point to this I guess. I just wish I didn’t need to play a balancing act in order to be a queer Christian. Act less religious in queer spaces, act less queer in Christian spaces. There’s such small pockets of life I can fully be both in happily and loudly with no friction from other people.

Because all the friction between my faith and my queerness has always always come from other people. Never from my beliefs, never from my gender, never from my God. Other people. Other people keep trying to insert themselves in between me and God and go hey that’s not right you should feel bad about that. But like. I don’t. I can’t. I won’t and you can’t make me. The thing making me feel bad is that other people want me to feel bad. Other people want me to be miserable for their convenience. I hate that. That’s the worst bit for me about being queer and Christian. Is learning just how little other people value the happiness of strangers.

[milonogiannis]

Since late August of 2022, Barry Topping and I have been working on a shoot ‘em up game called BIRDCAGE.

Now 2024 is wrapping up and – surprisingly – so is the production phase of BIRDCAGE. There’s still plenty of work to be done, but the game itself is all there, playable and asset complete.

Now we’re left with an ever-growing lernaean hydra list of other tasks to handle – emails, wider testing, stability, updating store presences, promotional stuff and in general, just trying to maximize the reach and polish of what we’ve made.

The final stretch of production (roughly the last 5 months?) was really fun. The game had matured enough that we just instinctively knew what would work and what wouldn’t.

We’d become comfortable enough with the tools we built and our process where we’d just be constantly in hyper mode. The game really came together in this final leg of development.

POLYGON BIRD, our studio name, and EXCEL Framework, the name given to the "shmup tools" we made for the game.

I was expecting ending full-on production on BC to be frustrating and depressing, but some switch flipped in my head and now all I want to do is email people about the game, optimize our Steam tags and figure out how to get this in people’s hands – and I’m finding that fun, at least for now. The game isn’t this ideal brainchild piece of art to me, suddenly. We did the work to make the thing, now it’s time the thing worked for us.

It surprises me how often I find myself thinking ridiculous things like “we need to activate our discord members” – but I’ll take this over the usual pit of despair I fall into after finishing a big project.

I guess this is what motivated me to write down these thoughts in the first place – I was bracing to be fully depressed and lost right about now, resenting the game and the time we spent on it. Maybe this will serve as a reminder that finishing a thing doesn’t have to feel so bad?

So now we’re kind of going back into uncharted waters – promoting, releasing, dealing with feedback, hotfixes and support. There’s going to be a lot of “learning on the job”, I guess, but I’m excited to see that aspect of game dev.

I’m really glad we were able to hit our goal of wrapping up this phase of BIRDCAGE as the year comes to a close – it makes it easy to look back on the past 2 years as a whole and see how much we’ve learned. I can’t wait for us to make another game, knowing what we know now.

There is still nothing to announce regarding the release of the game, but it still felt important to make note of this milestone.

For now, just know we’ve made a game and are working on getting it out there! We should have a lot more to say soon.

In the meantime, you can help us out by adding BIRDCAGE to your Steam wishlist.

Thanks for sticking around all these years.

Happy holidays!

-G

[perotovar]

my favorite things i've made 2024

tagged by @jolapeno @almostfoxglove @morallyinept @schnarfer @iamasaddie

@kedsandtubesocks @chronically-ghosted @moonlitbirdie and @arcanefox207 ♥

alright, y'all, i can't believe this year is ending soon 🥹 as we all know, this year has had a lot of ups and downs, but i can't help but feel like pedro did when he got his sag award, y'know??

i'm so grateful for all of you, and i can't wait to see what the new year brings. new p boys, new premieres/press tours?? sounds like heaven to me ♥

now, i've been tagged to toot my own horn a little bit and i guess i can, fine :P i don't normally like to, but i've been tagged by some wonderful, lovely friends to do so

below, will be both fics and gifs i've made this year that i'm pretty proud of!

before anything, i just wanna say, i'm super fucking proud of my Offering of Frith writing challenge. y'all did such an amazing job on every single one of the fics. i worked super hard on that and it was SO fun. i'd love to do another challenge in 2025, so i may do some brainstorming ✏️👀

fics:

bloody kisses -> alright, i'm gonna be real with y'all. this is my favorite thing i've ever written. okay, maybe not ever, but it's definitely tied with itbotn. i really love how quickly and easily this universe came together for me, and the little cult following that it has makes me so happy. they've almost got a little life of their own. i really, really wanna get back to them. i've got an idea that i'd love to get down, and now that a lot of the pressures of school are a little lessened, i might make it happen soon!

into the beat of the night ch 7 - "in my side" -> this chapter didn't get as much attention as the rest of the series, and that's okay, but i'm still proud of it for stepping out of my comfort zone. it was an area i was afraid would be a little taboo (since it covers deadnaming, misgendering, and past abusive relationships) so it's a little more serious than the series tends to be. i like what it means for river and frankie's relationship and it cements how they feel about each other, y'know?

into the beat of the night ch 8 - "deeper and deeper" -> and now for something completely different lol i like this chapter because it could've only happened after the experience with river's ex. they're completely comfortable with each other now and this was the last of frankie's walls coming down. i love them ♥

gifs:

the pedro pascal fandom moodboard that i made for the friendship exchange cat and han hosted ♥ i love how that turned out because it's the exact experience i have in this fandom lol

gideon @sp00kymulderr 's birthday present ♥ i adore our little disaster bi raccoon man and i love making these silly sets like this. i also love gideon so i'm glad they were the recipient for this!

silly pedro during the gladiator 2 press ♥ again, i love making these goofier sets. they're super fun to make and the end result is always really rewarding. and maybe i just like making myself laugh LMAO

i love you guys and i hope the new year treats you all well ♥

np tags: @for-a-longlongtime @schnarfer @iero @userparamore @djo

@miwtual @tomshiddles @gasolinerainbowpuddles @mrsmando @ghostofaboy

@missredherring @cavillscurls @beardedjoel @beefrobeefcal @quinnnfabrgay

@hellishjoel @max--phillips @oonajaeadira @wethairjoel @pedgito and literally anyone that wants to/sees this! i'm sorry if you already have done this or i missed you, it wasn't on purpose 🥲

[generic-whumperz]

(I’m aware what I have to say is not majority rule, and I understand the need for comfort and support it. But I haven’t ranted on here in a hot minute, so I suppose it’s over due?)

Guess I’m in the smaller minority that absolutely loves and craves a lot of pain and doesn’t need comfort to even the scales (no surprise!). It’s yet to get boring to me or feel too much. But I do sympathize with the concern for pacing, feeling the compulsive need to one-up yourself, and readers’ and writers’ fatigue when it comes to near-constant hurt/torture. As always, context matters as does the very nature of story itself. I’m fine with bleakness and helplessness, it’s oddly cathartic, and that’s comforting to me (yeah ironic that the lack of comfort is a comfort—existentialism who?)

Now for an unpopular stance: forcing “comfort” (whatever that may be) when a character isn’t ready to receive it, feels contrived and corny to me (emphasis on “isn’t ready”—completely subjective, so don’t come at my throat). It can cheapen the character journey and their likely struggles with touch aversion, trust, emotional stability, and the long term effects of captivity and conditioning that comes as a product of the whumping. Healing takes YEARS, DECADES, sometimes even half or a full lifetime. Recovery is MESSY and painful, and includes backsliding while simultaneously unlearning bad thought patterns and finding self worth again. Ouch.

“Comfort” isn’t always, well—comforting. It’s not just blankies, cuddles, and whispers of sweet nothings on a lover’s pillow folks, it’s real hard work that’s grueling as all hell. The aftermath could easily be an extension of the whump—Whump 2.0 if you will.

But hey, if palatable, Band Aid comfort is your thing, have at it by all means. This is a buffet genre, 24/7 at-the-readies, a little something for everyone and you can taste test all you want without paying a dime extra. That is a unique privilege we have here. So, as I am not knocking the whump buffet industrial complex, I hope the same mercy is granted to me as I gorge myself sick over at The Horrors™️.

Having said all this, I’m not any less likely to not read a story because there’s more comfort either, it’s more about vibes first and foremost, and if I give an honest to god shit about the characters and if the interpersonal dynamics speak to me. I’ll read fluff and cutesy shit too (can’t write it though), but usually this has to be a light at the end of the tunnel sort of deal. Take the crawling-on-your-knees and begging-for-a-passive-glance format of a slow burn, now apply it here. Bingo. I just don’t like easy things, I like a fictional struggle and a challenge, and that’s 100% on me and I don’t expect many others to share the same sentiment.

Comfort (in the genre sense) is usually making up for a real lack there of, an unfilled need, an escapist’s desert. And to that I say, the soft serve machine is right this way.

I’ve been thinking about this for a few days and I’d really like to hear people’s thoughts.

Feel free to add your thoughts, I’d really like to hear more about what readers want from their whump. I know I have my own opinions, but I’d love to hear more.

[oldsoul007]

long journey

nicholas chavez x wife!reader

a/n: heyyyy guys….sorry ive been MIA and not active lately BUT school has been so hectic so i just finished finals AYYYY anyway ill def be more active these days coming cus im finally on break so expect some fun stuff. enjoy ;)

based on this request: Can you do one where Nicholas and Yn have a son and the little boy (even though he's a toddler) he's already taking strides towards independence and Nicholas is feeling the growing pains of letting go and still wants to keep his son little still?

Me and Nicholas sat on the couch, quietly watching our son, Ethan, as he carefully stacked his toy blocks, his little tongue sticking out in concentration. At just three years old, Ethan was becoming increasingly independent, a fact that filled his parents with both pride and a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.

“Look at him,” I murmured, my voice tinged with awe. “He’s getting so big. He didn’t even need our help with that tower.”

Nicholas glanced over at Ethan, a pang of something he couldn’t quite describe tugging at his chest. “Yeah, he’s growing up too fast.” His voice was softer now, almost wistful. “I can’t believe how much he’s learning every day. One minute, he’s asking for me to tie his shoes, and the next, he’s doing it on his own.”

I smiled, sensing the weight behind his words. I knew that Nicholas, a natural protector, was having a harder time adjusting to the fact that our little boy was no longer a baby. He’d been so hands-on, so involved in every little milestone, and now, Ethan was starting to take more and more steps on his own.

“I think it’s a good thing,” I said gently, taking Nicholas’s hand. “He’s becoming more confident. It’s a sign of how well we’ve done.”

Nicholas nodded but still seemed unsure. “I know, I just… I don’t want him to grow up too fast. There’s something about him asking me for help that makes me feel needed, like he still wants to be my little boy. I guess I’m not ready to let that go yet.”

My heart softened. I could see the deep love Nicholas had for our son, the quiet protectiveness that defined him as a father. But I also knew that the process of letting go was part of the journey—one that both parents had to navigate together.

“Ethan will always need you,” she said, her voice reassuring. “Just in different ways. He’s going to keep growing, but that doesn’t mean we lose the moments we have now. We get to watch him become someone new, someone amazing. And we’ll be there every step of the way.”

Nicholas watched as Ethan, oblivious to the conversation, triumphantly added the final block to his tower. The little boy clapped his hands, beaming with pride, and looked up at his parents, his eyes bright.

“Look, Daddy!” Ethan said, holding up the tower with both hands. “I did it!”

Nicholas smiled, his heart swelling with emotion. “You did, buddy. You did.”

For a moment, he realized that even though Ethan was becoming more independent, he would always be our little boy. The feeling of being needed might change, but the love and connection would only grow stronger.

Nicholas reached down to ruffle Ethan’s hair, a tear threatening to well up in his eye, but he blinked it away with a soft laugh. “Guess I’m just going to have to keep up with you, huh, kiddo?”

Ethan giggled and gave him a tight hug, and in that hug, Nicholas found a comfort—a reminder that no matter how much Ethan grew, he would always be his son.

[inkedinshadows]

An Angel on the Ice

A/N: happy @acotargiftexchange to you, @duskandcobalt! I'm your Secret Santa, finally here with your gift! I had so much fun getting to know you and your love for this wonderful couple. I'm so so sorry I made you wait till the very end, I've been busier than I expected. BUT!! I have a second little surprise coming for you in the next few days (probably on Christmas day). I came up with the idea while writing this fic, but I didn't know how to include it here, so it'll be a little drabble on its own. Without further ado, here's your gift. Enjoy! And congratulations for guessing what Az's surprise was!

Pairing: Azriel x Elain

Summary: Azriel takes Elain to the Illyrian mountains for a romantic surprise.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, fluff, FLUFF

The cold winter air hit Elain in the face as she stepped out of the little art shop and onto the street.

The snow that had fallen during the night still coated the cobblestones, blanketing everything in a thin layer of soft white. It had brought along the cold, so freezing that her wool hat did little to warm her.

Azriel followed her outside, a wing already curling protectively around her, drawing her closer to his side. Except he was carrying the bags full of the presents they'd bought for their family, and she was still walking a couple feet away from him.

“You know, you don't have to carry all of the bags,” she said, reaching out with a gloved hand to relieve him of some weight. “I can hold some.”

He moved his hand further away, out of her reach. “I know you can, angel,” he said with a soft smile. “I just don't want you to. You're cold. You should keep your hands in your pockets.”

“I'm wearing gloves,” she pointed out, though she didn't try to grab the bags again. She knew Azriel wouldn't let her. “I'm not cold.”

A small dimple appeared on his cheek as he smirked at her. Even after months together, Elain's heart skipped a beat at the sight, her fingers twitching at her side with the urge to touch it and place a soft kiss there.

“Then why are your nose and cheeks red?”

She rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “My sister was right. You Illyrians really are overprotective mother hens.”

Yet even as she said it, her hands slid back into the pockets of her coat. Azriel's smirk grew at the movement, but he didn't comment.

“We have to earn that title somehow,” he said instead. Elain laughed, and his smile became softer. “Let's go home.”

Home. There was a time when she'd thought the Night Court would never be her home. Only three years ago, it had felt impossible. Turned Fae against her will, shoved at a male she didn't know or want, with powers she had no idea how to control, and a broken engagement on top of it all… she'd felt hopeless.

But as she'd learned how to accept and navigate her new life, Azriel had been there to help her through it. Something had slowly changed between them, a feeling that grew inside her until she could no longer pretend it wasn't there. But acting on it had led to a denied kiss in the dead of the longest night of the year. A broken heart, that feeling of hopelessness again, and then the explanation, the argument with Rhysand, the rejection of her mating bond.

Elain stole a glance at Azriel. Just a Winter Solstice ago, he had told her it had been a mistake. And now here he was, carrying their bags full of presents, on their way to the small house they'd bought a few months ago.

“You're staring, angel.”

She couldn't help the smile that blossomed on her lips. “You're just so beautiful to look at.”

She knew the effect the words would have on him, but by the Mother, she would never get tired of the way his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. It was visible even now, when they were already reddened by the cold. It happened every time she called him beautiful, and it was one of the many things she loved about him.

“How many presents do you still have to buy?” she asked him, changing the topic to make him feel more comfortable. If they were at home, she might have teased him about his blush, but not in public.

“Just a couple,” he answered, the flush already disappearing from his cheeks. “But I know what I'll get them. The only one I miss is Cassian.”

“You can always get him beef jerky this year too,” she joked, avoiding an ice patch on the cobblestones.

Azriel glanced at her. She knew he was making sure she didn't slip on the street. Overprotective mother hen, indeed. Yet she immediately stepped back into the warmth of his wing around her.

“I might, actually,” he finally replied, no hint of joking in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, her brow furrowed. But he looked completely serious. “You can't gift him beef jerky, Az! Two years in a row at that.”

“Why not? He likes it.”

Elain shook her head in disbelief. “Because he's your brother. You always come home with a new present for me, but you can't think of anything different for your brother?”

Azriel smirked. “I'm not in love with my brother, angel.”

It was her turn to blush now. She knew he loved her, of course. They'd said it before a thousand times. But Azriel had his own way of saying it when she least expected it — reminding her whenever he could, catching her off guard and making her heart beat faster every single time.

“You know that's not what I meant,” she mumbled. She preceded him up the few steps to their front door, her fingers stiff even inside the gloves. She fumbled with the key for a moment before she managed to turn it in the lock.

The warmth of the living room welcomed her inside, the smell of the bread she'd baked that morning still lingering in the air.

“It can be difficult to come up with something new and different after five hundred years,” Azriel said as he followed her in. He set the bags down before turning to face her. “You'll see.”

Elain took off her gloves, then her hat, his words swirling in her mind. “You know, it used to scare me,” she mused. “The thought of having eternity in front of me.”

Azriel watched her carefully. “But now it doesn’t?”

She shook her head, stepping closer. “No.” Her arms wrapped around him, and she rested her chin on his chest, tilting her head up to look at him. “Because now I get to spend it with you.”

His throat bobbed. She was the one who'd caught him off guard this time. At a loss of words, Azriel buried his fingers in her hair, angling her head so he could lean down and capture her lips in a kiss that left her dizzy. The kind of kiss that usually meant they would take things up to the bedroom. Or whatever nearest surface they could find.

But he pulled back instead. Elain's heart was already racing in her chest, and she was rising on her toes for another kiss when he spoke again.

“I have a surprise for you.”

She stopped, lowering herself onto her feet. “Winter Solstice is still a week away.”

With the holidays nearing, he’d stopped getting her little gifts out of nowhere. He said he wanted to wait because everything had to be perfect this year. Their first Solstice together.

“It's not a present,” he replied. His hand slid from her hair to her cheek, and she had trouble focusing as his thumb brushed her lip. “It's something I want to do with you. I wanted to wait till Solstice, but now it just feels like the right moment.”

Elain could only nod. “Okay,” she whispered.

His chuckle was a low rumble that resonated deep in her chest. “What happened, angel?” he asked softly. “Where did your voice go?”

“You're… distracting me.”

It took her a moment to snap out of it, to find the strength to step back and let his hand fall away from her face. But she didn't miss his smug grin at her admission.

She cleared her throat, trying to clear her mind as well and focus on Azriel’s surprise. “What do you want to do?” she asked as she reached for the first button of her coat.

Azriel's hand gently caught hers to stop her. “Keep it on,” he said. “We need to go back outside.” At her curious look, he added, “I want to take you to Rhys's cabin.”

Well, that was certainly a surprise.

“Rhys's cabin?” she repeated, even as she slid her gloves back on. “Why?”

He smiled, offering her the hat she'd hung on the coat rack. “It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, angel.”

“Right,” she chuckled. She made sure to grab a warm scarf as well this time before silently offering him her gloved hand.

Azriel took it in his larger one, and then they were winnowing out of Velaris and deep into Illyrian territory.

The first thing Elain noticed was the cold, her breath forming a faint puff in the air. Then she took in the snow that covered everything, white and bright under the afternoon sun.

Azriel's hand tightened around hers, and he guided her toward the cabin just a few yards away. The snow reached their calves, and never before had Elain been so glad to be wearing boots.

“I'm starting to question why you brought me here,” she mumbled, struggling to wade through the snow even as she followed directly in the path his footsteps left behind.

“I'm sorry, angel,” he replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I promise it'll be worth it.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, sizing her up as if he was pondering picking her up and carrying her to the cabin. But a few more steps finally brought them to the door, and he ushered her inside.

Her breath caught as she looked up.

Every wall was covered in paint, drawings in a style that she immediately recognized as her sister’s.

“Are those…?”

Azriel nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Yes. Feyre painted them.” He let go of her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Wait here. I’ll get what we need.”

Elain watched him disappear down the hallway, wings tucked tight against his back. She sank onto the couch, admiring her sister’s artwork all over the room, its colors adding warm to the otherwise bare place.

Azriel was back in a matter of minutes, two pairs of shoes in his hands.

As he walked closer and took a seat next to her, she noticed the thin blades attached to the soles. She frowned even as she accepted the pair that he offered her. “What are these exactly?”

He was already working on swapping his boots with the new ones. “You’re asking a lot of questions today,” he quipped with a smile. “Put them on, angel. They’re Mor’s, but they should fit you. You’ll find out what they're for soon enough.”

Elain let out a dramatic sigh, hiding her own smile as she leaned down to take off her boots. “You’re lucky I love you, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I never once doubted it, angel.”

When she was done, he helped her stand, giving her just enough time to balance herself on those strange boots before he winnowed them again. She instinctively gripped his arm to steady herself as they reappeared on the shore of a frozen lake. She looked around, her eyes searching the snowy expanse, but there was nothing in sight expect the white mountains.

Before she could ask anything — despite knowing how slim her chances of getting a straight answer out of Azriel were — he stepped back. Right on the icy surface of the lake.

Elain gasped, expecting the ice to give way beneath him and send him plunging into the freezing water below.

But nothing happened. The ice didn't even creak under his weight. Azriel simply stood there, a smile on his beautiful face, and extended a hand toward her. “Come join me, angel.”

She hesitated, glancing down at his feet. Though she was standing on the same thin blades, she wasn’t moving, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t fall flat on her face if she tried to step forward.

“Why are we stepping on the ice?” she inquired, hoping to buy herself a little more time.

“We're skating,” Azriel explained, finally giving her an answer. To demonstrate, he glided backward a few feet, his wings flaring slightly to steady him before he slid back toward her. He gracefully stopped right at the edge of the lake. “You should give it a try.”

Elain didn't move. He made it look so easy, but who knew how many times he had done this before? He also made wielding a sword look easy.

“You won't fall, Ellie,” he reassured her, as if he had read her mind. He reached out with both hands. “And even if you do, I'll be here to catch you. I promise.”

She might not trust herself, but she trusted him — trusted that he would always be there to catch her if she fell. So she took his hands and slowly set one foot on the ice, then the other.

Azriel smiled at her, his fingers firm around hers. “That's it, angel. We'll take it one step at a time. Just bend your knees a little and follow my lead.”

She did as he asked and when he moved back, he gently pulled her along. Her feet glided over the surface of the lake, leaving faint lines behind.

He gave her a few instructions, guiding her further from the shore, never letting go. Slowly, Elain became more confident, more stable on her feet as she got used to the movements. It reminded her of a dance, one that could be elegant and beautiful when someone was skilled. She made a mental note to tell Nesta about it later.

“Where did you learn to do this?” she asked. Azriel was holding only one of her hands now, and they skated side by side. Still slowly, but they had gained some speed. “It doesn't seem like a typical Illyrian activity.”

Azriel laughed. It was that beautiful, deep laugh he reserved just for her. “You're right. It's not.” His laughter softned, but its warmth lingered in his voice. “It's common in the Winter Court. Viviane taught Mor a few centuries ago, and she taught the rest of us.”

He slowed them to a stop, shifting to stand in front of her. “I never thought I would, but I took a liking to it.”

Elain smiled up at him. “I think I like it too.”

“I thought you might.” He brought her hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on her gloved knuckles. “Want to try skating on you own?”

She thought about it for a moment, then she nodded. “Alright. But don't wander too far, okay?”

Azriel's smile was bright and soft. “Never, angel.”

He let go of her hand and moved a few feet away from her. At first, she faltered without his grip to steady her, but she quickly adjusted, his earlier instructions echoing in her mind.

For every step she took toward him, Azriel moved further back. Elain felt like a child learning to walk, her movements awkward but growing more confident with every push of her foot. Soon, gliding over the ice came naturally. And Azriel was always there, his hands outstretched to catch her if she fell. But she didn’t.

When he stopped and she reached him again, his hazel eyes were bright with pride and love. “You did it, Ellie.”

“Yes,” she replied, already intertwining their fingers again. “But don't let go of my hands again.”

Azriel's brow furrowed. “Why? You did great. You didn't even stumble.”

“I know.” Elain smirked, unable to hide her own satisfaction from her little accomplishment. “I just want to hold your hand.”

His expression softened, and a smile spread across his lips. That adorable dimple appeared once again, and with it came back her need to kiss it. Damn skates, she couldn't rise on her toes with those on.

“I will never let you go, angel,” he promised.

And he didn't.

Elain had no idea how much time they spent on that lake. It was just him and her, lost in the snowy mountains in the middle of nowhere. The silence was broken only by their laughter and quiet words. It felt as though they were the only two people in the world, free from worries and duties, lost in this moment, in each other, in a love born from quiet understanding and gentle touches.

The sun was setting by the time Azriel came to a halt, wrapping his strong arms around her. “We should probably get back,” he murmured, his voice soft as if to preserve the moment. “It's getting late.”

“And cold,” she added. Without the warm sunlight, the already cold air had turned into a freezing bite. Her scarf and hat didn't help much, and even Azriel's warmth couldn't stop her gloved hands from stiffening.

“We could take a hot bath,” she suggested. “Or I could make us some hot chocolate and we can cuddle in front of the fireplace.”

Azriel smirked, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “And losing the chance of seeing your gorgeous body? I think I'll choose that bath, angel.”

Elain's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “I… didn't mean it like that.”

His face fell slightly as worry creeped into his eyes. “You know we don't have to do anything if you don't want to, angel. I'm sorry if I assumed—”

She cut him off with a soft smile. “Az, I just hadn't thought about it. I'd love to take a bath together.” She cupped his face with her small hands, her voice barely above a whisper. “Take me home, Shadowsinger.”

His arms tightened around her, and he winnowed them away without another word, her laughter echoing in the now-empty glade.

dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

[143folium]

Random Thought About Debilitated Planets in Vedic Astrology (Pt. 1)

Sometimes, I wonder how just because a planet is debilitated, it's already bad. Sure there will always be that argument that said planet cannot perform due to being uncomfortable or outside of comfort zone... But if we use that argument to prove otherwise, it can make sense how debilitated planets might actually turn out good. ESPECIALLY if your eyeing to move abroad and have foreign settlement.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional astrologer, moreso in Vedic, nor am I knowledgeable about Hindu contexts. So please take what I say with a grain of salt. Any feedback will be appreciated since I'm also learning Vedic.

So to continue, 4th house is said to be the house of comforts. If we use the argument for debilitation, it should imply the opposite of 4th house. I wouldn't mean the 10th house, but the signification of comfort which is discomfort. But 4th house also belongs to homeland, and opposite to homeland is foreign lands.

Another thing is that foreign lands is signified by the 12th house. 12th house is also the house of loss, and guess what...? Debilitation is the loss of strength of a planet, or is it?

My point is, planets don't necessarily lose its overall strength, but like the comfort argument, it just feels out of zone. But if you actually dabble on the "discomfort", you might actually end up strengthening that debilitated planet for good.

Discomfort here could mean, doing the things that are the opposite to your planetary significations OR embodying that planet's energy OUTSIDE your comfort place. Let's go through each planets.

Debilitated Sun (in Libra)

What I often hear about debilitated Sun is that "you put the king in the marketplace" and that "the king is uncomfortable in dealing with the common people". Libra represents market and the masses, but with Sun being in this sign, it can actually give one the potential to be an exemplary leader who people can easily connect to. You can also see it in a way that it helps you turn down your ego. Compromising here and being fair and diplomatic can actually make you more respected and famous (as the usual Sun functions).

It can also be taken as being a conventional leader, charismatic person, or main person AWAY from your homeland. You could actually be more egoistic (for good) in foreign lands.

Debilitated Moon (in Scorpio)

Ah, yes, when emotions are too much that it constricts you and prevents you to breathe... except that this can actually make you a genuine person in the realm of emotions. Okay, sure, Scorpio is also associated with secrecy, and it makes Moon very very suppressed. But Moon is not only just emotions, but also psyche. In one's psyche, the shadow is always there and the Moon is no stranger to shadows and darkness since it rises at night where it illuminates the sky. This can make one have a very strong intuition and makes one more equipped in psychologically transcending themselves. Without intensity and secrets, one cannot easily unearth the subconscious and even conscious matters.

It can also be taken as having a more evolved psyche and better emotional regulation/mental health and more abundant comforts when AWAY from homeland.

Debilitated Mars (in Cancer)

THIS. Is quite a poetic debilitated planet. So Mars is the soldier, it's all about fighting. But the thing is, you can't really make the home (Cancer) a battlefield. Now there's a beautiful quote/question that could present as a beautiful argument to this, "Would you rather be a warrior in the garden or a gardener in a war?" What many people get wrong about nurturing is that it's about the gentle/soft/maternal energy, but you can nurture anyone by being strongheaded and a fighter. I don't mean this in a way that you nurture people by being an abusive warfreak, heck no. What this can show is that, it makes one "okay" with channeling their anger for the sake of standing up for themselves and those who they consider "family". There are many parents who demonize anger and confrontation, but one can never know peace without knowing conflict and how to fight for oneself. This can make one a solid protector.

It can also be taken as you being more assertive, ambitious, willing to stand up for self and others when AWAY from homeland.

There are more planets, but I think this is what I can write for now. I'll make parts 2 (or more, depends).

Enjoy!

[thatgirlwithasquid]

ooo okay this looks fun (and i am procrastinating like a bitch rn so...)

Hm, I'm not sure. Maybe The Naming of Hobbits by @andhumanslovedstories? It was one of the first fics I read when I got into using AO3 and I remember it giving me a good giggle. I really should go back and reread it. It must've been years since I've read it by now... And yet I still think of it fondly as 'that funny The Hobbit fic' so it clearly left a very good impression :)

So many. So many make me cry. I've reread Time Falls Away by @not-close-to-straight like three times I think? And each time the line 'I don't know this part of the story' has me UGLY SOBBING. Love it. Absolutely an amazing read. I still haven't worked my way up to the third fic in the series cause the emotions are still too strong rn, but I am very excited for whenever I finally do! I also gotta mention All Is Fair In Love by @stranger-awakening cause OH MY GOD nothing has ever hurt me like this fic hurt me. The pain. It just kept getting worse. It was so good but I needed frequent breaks when reading cause the emotions were So Much. I'm also just realising I never kudosed that fic and OMG I AM SO SORRY. I was too caught up in the throes of agony, I apologise!!

My comfort fic is definitely Petey and Wade discuss the proper way to go about vigilantism (and maybe they fall in love too) by @isadancurtisproduction. I have read that fic at least once a year since I first came across it. I love it so much, it's insane. It may even be my all time favourite fanfic

I am gonna have to say Rapture by mia_ugly on AO3. I read it out of morbid curiosity and I have not been the same since. This is the fic that introduced me to this type of time travel fics, where the time travel muddies the relationships and makes everything angsty and confusing and secretive. It is my FAVOURITE kind of angst and I have read multiple other fics with the same trope since. I adore them <3

Oh, 100% @sheena-is-a-punk-rocker. Since I read all your quinnflag fics and loved them so much I started on my own quinnflag wip. Started off thinking 'how would they have gotten together before The Suicide Squad?' like they are in your The Suicide Squad but Rick and Harley are already dating series (which is such a fun read and deserves all the love!!) and my wip has become its own thing from there :)

Lol I'm not the best authority for this since I do not read much fic for either of my main fandoms (sorry Stranger Things and The World of Mr Plant!) but I definitely think @kittyphoenix12-xx's work deserves so much more love. I need to read more of your fics, babes, cause the ones I have read are SO good. I TREASURE that cunningway fic you gifted to me, and getting to beta a couple of your works was such an honour. I especially loved the stars look down and know, cause it's so so sweet!!!

Good question... Commenting, I guess. That's the obvious answer. And I really need to work on it myself (and I'm trying!!) but we could always do with more commenting. Authors love seeing it so we need to do our part more (which is why I'm tagging the authors in this despite being a bit nervous about that lol, cause you guys deserve hearing how wonderful I think your fics are :) )

I really don't know. I don't like telling people not to do things cause I think that's just rude. Fanfic is for fun, and if you like doing something that someone else thinks there's too much of then fuck them! Have fun with it cause that's all that matters. I see people complaining about certain things from time to time and just think 'well... you could just... not?' Maybe that's what I wish there was less of in fandom: people feeling the need to make a fuss when they don't like something, cause most of the time when I see it it's over the most non-problem things.

Alternative Fic Recs

Fic recs are a great way to introduce people to stories you love. But instead of a list, you could try this format instead? I've tried it before and I really liked it, as it made me think about the fics I've read differently.

This isn't a tag game or an ask game. You can copy, repost, reblog, share and edit this at will if you're looking to do a fic rec :)

The fic that's made you laugh the most?

What's a fic that makes you cry?

Your fave comfort, silly fic?

The fic that made you try a genre or a trope you wouldn't normally read.

An author that's inspired your own fic writing (if you're an author), or your TBR list (if you're a reader).

Your fave "underdog" fics/authors in your fandom(s). Those that you feel are underappreciated and deserve some love.

What's one thing you wish writers/readers/the fandom did more of when it comes to fanfiction?

What's one thing you wish writers/readers/the fandom did less of when it comes to fanfiction?

[hannahbarberra162]

Who do you think is meaner in bed, Marco or Izo? I think lots of people would (ignorantly) assume he'd be a sub because he's feminine only to get a shock when he flips things on them, but while I think he's a good dom I personally don't see him as being a particularly mean one. I think he'd be good at staying calm and collected and making you feel reeaally embarrassed about how easily you lose composure by comparison. Marco has so much responsibility and steam to blow off I can see it. Division commander, head doctor, has to bully the strongest man in the world into taking his meds, he's gotta take the stress out on someone. Heehee idk

It's so funny you asked this - I was already writing another Mean Marco drabble! I completely agree with you. I think Marco is very tightly wound under that calm facade. He's a doctor dealing with 997 idiots (excluding Izou and Deuce), 1 Portgas D. Ace (he's in his own category), and the Captain is a stubborn old man who won't take his pills.

I do think Izou could come off as a little mean but I agree that he mostly keeps his wits about him. I could see Izou drinking tea and watching while you ride the Sybian, noting the different sounds you make and how they differ from other forms of stimulation. Or Izou teasing you endlessly as you're bound to his bedframe spread eagle, never quite touching where you need him to, agreeing with you that yes, it is quite difficult. And no, he's not going to stop until he's done.

But Marco.

Oh, Marco.

NSFW Drabble, Marco x F!Reader , ~1k (oops), mean but consensual Marco

Stress Ball

“Marco, is - oh, I guess you’re in here alone then,” Tate said, poking her head in Marco’s office. The First Division Commander smiled as he picked his head up from some reports, his red glasses resting on the end of his nose.

“Just me yoi,” he confirmed, setting down the quill he’d been using for note taking. 

“OK, no worries. But are you alright? You looked really worked up before," Tate asked, searching Marco’s face for answers.

“Ah, you know how it is. Too many patients, not enough doctors and nurses,” Marco said with an easy smile. Tate nodded and gave a knowing laugh.

“Yeah, trust me I get it. I just think you have it harder than anyone else on board. You’re in charge of our division, you’re responsible for keeping everyone safe, you’re the primary doctor for the crew, you’re basically the First Mate, and you have to give that stubborn old man all his medicine. If I was you I would have cracked a long time ago. Speaking of, I’ve been looking for - oh, nevermind. Hope you find some kind of stress relief - I can cover for you in a bit if you want to go flying?” Tate offered her longtime friend.

“I appreciate it but there’s no need yoi. I’m buried up to my neck in paperwork and besides, I found a way to blow off some steam earlier. I’m feeling pretty good right now,” Marco said, picking up his quill once more. Tate nodded and smiled, already turning to leave the office.

“Sounds great boss…I’ll go look for her in the baths then, she said she was stressed earlier…” Tate said mostly to herself, her voice getting quieter the further down the hall she went from Marco’s office. He smiled to himself then continued to write, turning the pages slowly and straightening them as needed. After about half an hour, he heard some sounds coming from the slim coat closet set in the adjacent wall. Standing up, he stretched his arms over his head, his toned stomach peeking through as his shirt rode up. Striding over to the closet, he opened the door and enjoyed the sight before his eyes.

You were inside, head moving towards the movement of air. You couldn’t see or hear him, the blindfold and headphones he’d put on you didn’t allow for any light or sound. You were shifting around, trying to find a comfortable position but Marco had ensured there wasn’t one. You were sitting on your poor red bottom on the floor of the closet, your wrists bound to your crossed ankles. The two vibrators that Marco had placed in your holes were still going but at a low hum, your slick fluids dripping down your thighs and into a small puddle on the floor. Marco squatted down next to you, causing you to search once again for the source of the movement. 

The large spider gag prevented you from calling out to him but the drool leaking from your mouth joined the rest of the slick mess you’d been making. He noted that your chest and face were still covered in his cum from earlier as he ran his thumb through the fluids. Placing his coated thumb in your open mouth, your tongue roved over the digit and sucked as much as you could. Pleased, Marco removed your headphones, making your head jerk in his direction.

“You’re being too loud yoi. I can hear you moving around all the way from my desk,” Marco cooed into your ear. He palmed your breasts in his hands, rolling your already pert nipples in his fingers. After only a few moments of pinching and teasing you were panting and straining against the bindings he’d lovingly put on your hours before but making as little noise as you could.

“You wouldn’t want anyone to find you like this, would you yoi? You shook your head rapidly while a blush rose in your cheeks.

“Then you need to be quieter, hm? Let’s see if you can be a good little thing for me,” Marco said affectionately, petting your hair. Reaching into his pocket he removed a heavy chain with teeth clamps on either end. Putting his hand on your back for support, he dipped his head low and nipped and kissed your breast, leaving a trail of hickeys until he reached your nipple. Sucking hard, he laved his tongue over the sensitive bud until your chest was heaving. Pulling away his head with an audible pop, he quickly placed the clamp on your nipple. You whined softly as he repeated the process with your other nipple until both were clamped between the teeth of the metal binding.

“Ah ah. Not so loud or I’ll have to leave the door open yoi. You don’t want the rest of the crew to see how needy you are do you? I think another 30 minutes here would help us both, hm? I’m feeling relaxed already and I’m sure you are too,” Marco said with a grin, pulling on the chain gently. You pushed your chest up to alleviate the pain from the clamps but that caused the large plug in your ass to be ground in further. Marco looked you over, putting his index and middle finger into your fist. 

“Once for green, twice for yellow, three times for red,” he said softly, waiting for your response. You gave him two hard squeezes and he kissed your cheek.

“I felt yellow. Again, just to make sure I got the right one. Once for green, twice for yellow, three times for red,” he repeated. Just as before you squeezed his fingers twice, leaving no room for error. 

 “Doing so well, Doveling, just a little more,” he whispered into your ear. He replaced the headphones, kissed the top of your head and shut the door to the closet. Humming happily he sat down at his desk to finish the last of his paperwork. He’d be done soon and he’d make you come around his cock until you cried for him to stop. That would alleviate your stress, he thought with a grin.

[aztarion]

If Sol is an anxiety-riddled cheetah, what sort of person or thing or addition to her (un)life would have the same effect on her that an emotional support puppy has on a cheetah?

ive been thinking about this and not getting anywhere j and im pretty sure it’s meant as no nuance but we’ve established im an overthinker v_v so i rambled for a while below, hopefully it’s entertaining LOL. i focused way too much on the relationships. tbh it could be her brother if she ever reunited with him

it’s so hard to pick out one particular thing or person or addition and keep it realistic!!! i’d otherwise say it was Julian during the fledgling years, but she didn’t have much in the way of anxiety then, not like it is now, and he was also partially responsible for what brought about triggering/exacerbating it in the first place. but initially what they had, if you could lift that younger slightly less bold Julian to replace present Julian, might have that effect on her

in some weird way i think Sol subconsciously likes being kept on the fringe or razors edge of her nerves in some twisted strain of excitement; ive been toying with this as a manifestation of her beast. so maybe she would vore a traditional therapy dog and sit there shaking and whimpering like she’s the victim 🧐

i’ve mentioned before she gets on really well with Elena and enjoys her dry presence and quiet competence and absolute loyalty, but the fact of what’s unnaturally behind that loyalty spikes anxiety if Sol dwells on it — Sol is also VERY protective and worries about everyone she has a connection with. she would develop feelings for the therapy dog. whatever it might be in this analogy, it would have to be some sort of stronger kindred/supernatural for her to have any peace of mind

so… Lettow comes closest in that regard, but i still don’t think Sol would be happy for other reasons. his demeanor, strength and reliability has the most inwardly calming effect on her — like a truly strange solid steadying comfort over a period of months that grow insanely chaotic. he offers comfort, forgiveness, acceptance, support — all the things she thinks she wants or needs. it’s interesting to me that in the base text a lot of his touches and embraces are described as being either ‘grounding’, ‘protective’ or ‘lingering’ because Sol often feels like she’s drowning — in guilt, in Aila’s memories, in loneliness, in purposelessness, in her own maddeningly unsatisfied hunger. like meeting earth after years at sea. he has big taurus energy to her underdeveloped scorpio. (contrastingly Julian’s are described as unexpected or split-second and leaving her off-balance… but again i think Sol actually likes that)

maybe Lettow could help her heal past Aila but i don’t think Sol would give herself that chance for forgiveness. and while she comes to really love and care for him despite the confusion Aila’s stirring brings, and her own impulsive feelings and actions, i don’t think she’s IN love with Lettow :( he doesn’t inspire or excite or wildly frustrate her like Julian does. so maybe that does make Lettow a good emotional support puppy… Sol needs a pet elder kindred just chilling in the background with a panama hat being extremely accepting of her stupidity to feel normal i guess. im thinking his willingness to forgive what she’s done would eat at her forever though, to a point that’s just utterly dissociative. and that’s not fair to Lettow; he doesn’t deserve another gf tapping out on him

present-and-post-night road Julian…sigh

Julian has this constant dichotomy of idealism and hypocrisy, patience and cool calculative manipulation. he would be that one therapy dog that wasn’t screened for occasionally barking unexpectedly and roughhousing. so like he’s very good for her in some ways and terribly triggering in others but now the cheetah is attached to him so everyone (me) is hesitant to take him out of the enclosure

more than anything Julian offers her assurance in his intelligence, adaptability, his purpose — and the purpose he gives her, which Sol can’t put to words. it’s less about providing a calming presence and more about inspiring and challenging her. he’s like enrichment LOL. more akin to a partner in adventure and crime rather than strictly emotional support, but i think Sol would end up heading in Aila’s direction without Julian stirring shit up for her

as for the emotional support… ok this is where i retreat to my fanfic but Marquis definitely threw a big bone at the end of Julian’s romance. they have a very deep connection; the sire-childe bond, were best friends/lovers/attached at the hip for a decade, he brings out the best (and worst) in her but he helps her discover herself… i think it’s special and could work as a foundation. of course ultimately the effectiveness depends on the progression of their relationship and the trust rebuilding between them post-night road, but i see that as a possibility. when Sol tentatively decides to help with Julian’s plan for the SI and 2100 long term instead of Lettow, something big is bridged there — in the ending scene with romanced Julian he in turn offers Sol half of the reigns on the program and lets her call the shots with whatever happens with the death cult in Monterrey, as well as joining her in the field. i love Kyle for doing that lmao… it’s a really nice moment that hints at Julian being willing to work to rebuild the relationship and trust between them instead of what you get in night road when neither of them wholly trust each other and are loathe to keep it 100. once Julian knows she’s in, he’s down, no holds barred. i think they'd both be for the long haul, in good and probably still some bad and very imperfect ways but that keeps it interesting

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK <3333 THANK YOU J <333

[grape-jucie-dog]

Randomly thought of something regarding my normal version of Athena, my Devil Athena AU, and my Holy Moly AU Athena.

See no evil = Devil AU

Speak no evil = Athena normally

Hear no evil = Holy Moly AU

Let me explain.

See no evil is super Devil coded in my opinion. Something to know about my Athena Post-God Games design is that her left eye (where you can see the scars in my design) has been changed to a murky yellow color. She isn't completely blind, but her vision has definitely been affected. Normally, when she's using her powers, her eyes glow blue. But now, her left eye glows yellow. Like Zeus' eyes. She's blind to the fact that, even though she refuses to admit it, she's a lot like Zeus in many ways. Her anger, her passion, and even some of her actions in this AU, which are much more reckless than usual. No matter what, she'll always be like him. But she refuses to admit it. She's partially blind to the fact that, no matter what, she's just like the person she hates the most.

Speak no evil is super Athena coded, and here's why. Throughout the musical, specifically in the Troy and Cyclops Sagas, we know her as cold and distant. She gets frustrated with Odysseus when he spares the Cyclops, her teachings going out the window, causing the whole argument between her and Ody. And then in the Wisdom Saga, we see her again. She's hurt by what she had done, for leaving Odysseus behind, and finally she tells someone else about it. She has the confidence to speak up to Zeus, she wants to free her friend because of what happened. And she gets silenced for it. When she has the guts to stand up against Zeus, begging for Odysseus to be released, he shuts her up. Who knows if she'll ever get that sort of confidence again? The strategist, the logical one, has run out of things to say.

Hear no evil makes me think of the Holy Moly AU for two reasons. A) Athena feels like she's not being heard in the beginning, and B) Athena is shutting everyone out. At the start of the AU, in the first oneshot I made, we see Athena is stressed out. The games are still greatly affecting her, but she feels she has no one to talk to. When that one little mistake finally sets her off, no one says anything. No one does anything to comfort her. They sit at the dinner table, looking at her with pity, maybe even embarrassment. It was a cry for help that went practically ignored. And now, when Athena turns to Moly, now that everyone is trying desperately to help her get better, to get away from the drug that's making her distress worsen, she refuses to listen. They didn't hear her before, and now she refuses to listen to them.

... -sighs and opens Pinterest and ibisPaint X- Guess I'm drawing this now.

[mellotronmkll]

Wverytime I sit down at a computer to make music I get so scared

[britneyshakespeare]

the middle school principal wants to hire me in a full-time position so bad.

and who can blame him? i'm that substitute 💅

[elegyofthemoon]

i kinda forgot how mochizuki does expressions so well that they speak more than texts in an image

esp for someone like oz who has identity crisis going on for him that he doesn't really care who he is as a person so long as it makes others happy (the way later he could care less if people see him as jack the hero rather than just oz)

but the shock in oz's expression as though he had been read so clearly by sharon's words.

also idk it never crossed my mind while i was rereading, but i love that this is just in chapter 2 -- that things would go bad if oz should ever lose sight of himself

bc that's the gist of oz's whole character arc, inching away from just being whatever people want him to be, shying away from his emotions, and accepting himself and what it means to be himself - emotions and past - alike.