#have to post this already or it's never seeing the light of the day with how much i redraw the lines

[moonstruckme]

Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3

Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart

cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.” 

James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know. 

You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head. 

“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.” 

You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”

“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.” 

James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”  

“What did he want you to let me know?” 

“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.” 

You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.” 

“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?” 

“Better than when I woke up.” 

“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”

You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench. 

“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead. 

It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly. 

“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.” 

“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too. 

You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.” 

“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.” 

That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.” 

“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.” 

James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.” 

You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.” 

“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?” 

“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?” 

James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.” 

“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.” 

James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.

[russellsppttemplates]

Bridging the Gap (Lando Norris)

A look into the Norris family summer vacation

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity! For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is 4 years older than Lando, media scrutiny

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

The low hum of the television filled the cozy apartment as you and Lando sat on the sofa, nestled comfortably under a soft blanket as his hands absentmindedly traced patterns on your thigh. Lately, it was one of your favorite pastimes - catching up on a show after a long week and simply enjoying each other's presence without having the world around you.

Life with Lando was unexpectedly delightful. His infectious laughter and zest for life were contagious, and even the most mundane days seemed brighter with him around, no matter how many clients you had that day or how much reading you had to do before their next sessions. At the beginning, you couldn't wrap your head around how the way your routines still laced together despite the seemingly different responsibilities, but you cherished the balance you shared.

"Do you have a busy day tomorrow?", your boyfriend asked.

"I have 8 clients, as two of them already cancelled because they're sick, but I managed to adjust the schedule and hopefully I have some time to go to the bank and see about my mortgage payments", you said.

"And in that rearranged schedule, is there a possibility of you spending the night here so we can wake up together before you go be a boss lady?", he wondered as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, softly kissing the skin there.

"I have to be in the office at before 10 am, Lan, I can't have a lie in", you reasoned.

"I have to be up at 7 am to go on a run with Jon, so neither can I", he smirked, knowing he had all the reasons to convince you to stay, "we can have some breakfast together before you leave me".

"I guess I have time to pop home, change and get to work on time", you reasoned, agreeing with his plans.

"I'm glad you think that because my next step was going to kidnap you for the night - I'm talking locking the doors and throwing away the keys", Lando spoke.

Your laughs rubbled as Lando squeezed you tighter against him, basking in the warm feeling on his chest of having you for the rest of the night.

.

A few weeks later, Lando told you Max and Pietra would be in Monaco for a week since they hadn't spent some time together in a while.

"Do you know how your week is going to be? In terms of your schedule I mean", Lando mused, holding your waist as you stirred the food in the pot.

"I had some people move around from their usual schedule, so the weekdays end late but I don't have many appointments on Friday and I have Saturday off", you spoke.

"That's good, means we can spend a nice long weekend together", Lando smiled, kissing your shoulder before resting his chin there, "I'm not sure of all the plans yet but it’ll be fun! And they’re eager to meet you", he grinned, optimism lighting up his face.

"I'm excited to meet them too", you spoke, despite the one looming shadow. The thought of meeting Lando’s close-knit circle always brought a tinge of anxiety with it. His friends were used to seeing him as the carefree poster child of single life - never missing a party or the chance to get a little drunk. Hell, the idea that Lando would rather stay in on a Friday night, watching his girlfriend cook them dinner after spending the afternoon waiting for her to finish her online sessions would baffle Max and all of his friends.

And though Lando never seemed to mind, the idea of them questioning your relationship because of your age gnawed at your insecurity. Even when you were younger, the party scene wasn't your thing and as the years passed, it certainly didn't become it. You were fine with Lando enjoying himself whenever he wanted to and never once objected to that, but feared that his friends would question it.

"There's something on your mind, I can tell that", Lando spoke softly, "would you like to share it with me?".

"It's just...", you tried, knowing he would be able to tell you were lying and knowing that sharing this with him could ease your fears.

"Doesn't have to sound pretty or polished, I just want to know what is on your head", he encouraged softly.

"Maybe they won't want to spend time with me? They're coming here to see you and spend time with you, and there's always the possibility that they might now want to spend time with me", you let it out.

"Why do you think that?", he continued softly.

"Because I'm not hard-core, adrenaline seeking fun!", you added.

"Lovie, the plans we have are just enough fun for everyone, I didn't to do anything too hard-core and they don't either, so we'll be good and have plenty of fun together, yeah?", Lando assured, turning you around and kissing your forehead.

"You are starting to have a way with words", you mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin in such a protective manner, like no harm in the world could get to you if he was near.

"I catch on a thing or two you say", your boyfriend mumbled, kissing your lips slowly.

"I have to take my lunch to the office tomorrow, I don't have time to come home", you mumbled more to yourself than anything, taking a tupperware box from the cupboards so you wouldn't end up without your packed lunch.

"Pack two of them and I'll meet you in the office", Lando said like it was nothing.

"Sorry, what?", you asked again, afraid you had misheard him.

"You can pack two of them to go and I'll meet you for lunch tomorrow so you don't eat lunch all alone", Lando suggested.

"You don't have to", you reasoned.

"I know I don't, but I want to", Lando smiled, "the next couple of days are going to be busy for me and I need to fill up on time with you so my heart won't miss you as much".

He was ever the charmer and you still blushed at his words, not used to this no matter how many times he did it.

"Fine, but you can't mess up the crayons this time! You left one of them on the floor and I saw my life flash before my eyes when I stepped on it and nearly fell! No funny business in my office!", you joked.

"Does that mean we can't play Jenga and talk about my feelings? How dare you do that to me, woman?", Lando dramatised.

.

The first night of the week Max and Pietra would be spending in Monaco arrived quickly, and while the full day of sessions certainly kept your mind away from all of it, you found yourself at the door of your boyfriend's apartment waiting for him to get it.

"Hello, beautiful", Lando greeted as soon as he saw you, kissing your lips before letting you in, "let me take these", he said as he grabbed your bag and your coat.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm a bit late but the last session ran a bit longer than I expexted", you apologised, smoothing over your jeans and checking how you looked in the mirror - after the day you had, you couldn't expect much but you were pleasantly surprised that your hair was still bouncy and forgoing makeup was probably a good idea because you would have smudged it by now.

"You look beautiful as always, Y/N", Lando grabbed your attention, "and don't worry, take out is late too so you don't need to feel bad", he assured, guiding you with him to the living room where the noise was coming from.

"Guys, this is Y/N", Lando announced as they both welcomed you warmly, quickly asking you questions and letting you join in, preparing a drink for you.

"I'm usually heavy handed, but this one is proper, Y/N", he offered you before you took a sip, "I can fix a different one though!".

"It's good, it's good - hits the spot very nicely", you smiled, taking another sip before engaging in conversation.

When the food arrived, Lando asked you to join him in the kitchen to help him plate everything up and bring it to the dining table, opting to use the door closest to it so it would be easier.

As you crossed rhe hallway, you overheard Max and Pietra talking.

“Do you think it works?”, Pietra asked, “I mean, they seem happy, but Lando’s… well, Lando".

Max shrugged, “He’s crazy about her. Age doesn’t matter, does it? But yeah, never thought he’d settle, at least not like this".

You felt a small knot form in your stomach, but before you could dwell on it, Lando appeared at your side, his familiar warmth instantly reassuring as he placed his hand on the small of your back, “You alright?” he asked, noticing the brief flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

“Yeah", you smiled, deciding in that moment that the security you had together was worth navigating any doubts from others.

As the evening continued, you noticed Max and P exchanging skeptical glances across the table - they're were known for their protective nature over Lando, Max is his bestfriend, so they are particularly wary of anyone close to their beloved friend.

Over the clinking of silverware and hum of conversations, Max finally spoke up, his tone casual but inquisitive, "so, how’s it really going, being with a guy who practically lives on a racetrack?”.

You felt Lando's reassuring nudge beneath the table, prompting you to respond with honesty, "It's definitely something else. Racing is such a demanding world, but we find balance by making time for each other away from it all. So far, it has worked out well".

P leaned back, observing the dynamic between the you, "there must be a lot of pressure, especially with so many eyes watching your every move".

Lando chimed in before you could respond, "Y/N handles it like a champ. Honestly, she’s the calm in my storm", he said, his eyes filled with admiration for you. There wasn't a day that you didn't handle it gracefully, whether it was a fan wanting to take a photo or a reporter wanting to know more than you allowed.

Max and P exchanged another look, this time softer and less guarded - little by little, they began to see what Lando meant by his earlier assurance that you kept him grounded.

As dinner progressed, the conversation turned to shared stories, with Lando guiding the discussion to include moments from your relationship - your mutual love for travel, how you introduced him to the joy of quiet moments, and even shared a humorous tale of your early dates, laughter erupting when he recounted an incident involving mistaking your office with the one next to yours, Lando accidentally entering the lawyer's waiting room with a massive bouquet of flowers and passes to golf.

Max's initial skepticism gradually melted away as he watched you interact. Lando's attentiveness was unmistakable - how he would lean in to catch your words over the din of conversations, or how his eyes crinkled in genuine amusement at your stories. He noticed how effortless and natural your connection seemed, a seamless blend of companionship and partnership.

By the time dessert came around, Pietra seemed convinced, "Alright, alright. I can see what everyone’s been talking about. You both really seem to understand each other in a way that's rare".

"You say that like we don't!", Max complained.

"Shut it, Max, you know what I mean", she mumbled.

Feeling the warmth of acceptance flood the room, Lando laid his hand over yours on the table, grinning with relief and contentment, "Told you she was amazing,” he said, playfully raising his eyebrows.

Max chuckled, raising his glass, "Okay, I admit defeat, I'm not sure we are like this!".

It was in that moment that you realized, the whispers of doubt that had once lingered were no match for the clarity of Lando’s affection. Together, you were creating a narrative all your own, one that defied stereotypes and embraced your unique bond.

.

As the days passed after the gathering, the glow of being surrounded by Lando’s friends began to fade, replaced by the nagging unease that had settled in your mind. You found yourself replaying the conversations from that night, the laughter, the glances, and especially Max's comment, which you still couldn’t quite shake off despite the way the night ended.

One evening, after a long day at work, filled with sessions and schedule arrangements thanks to the flu season, you sat on the sofa, scrolling through social media.

Your heart sank as you stumbled upon a headline featuring Lando. The article speculated about his relationships and how he was often deemed the ultimate bachelor, writing that they believed he wasn't about to change his ways. The more you read, the harder it became to ignore your worries.

Later that night, Lando arrived from his photoshoot, his laughter echoing as he stepped through you door. He instantly brightened the room with his presence, but you struggled to muster so much as a smile.

“Hey! Long day?”, he asked, tilting his head slightly, concern etched across his features as he took a good look at you.

“Just tired", you replied with a half truth. As you settled down, you felt the weight of the unspoken words pressing on your chest, knowing that sooner or later they would find their way out.

“Is everything okay?”, Lando probed, sensing the shift in your mood. Even when you had a bad day, the reception he got wasn't like this.

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling, Do you ever think about what people say… about us?”.

Lando paused, confusion washing over his face, "What do you mean?”.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, looking down, "Like, the way the media talks about you. Or how your friends might see us. What if they don’t accept me? They might think I’m not right for you… for your image".

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, “Why would you think that?”.

“Because it’s true!”, you almost spat, frustration bubbling to the surface, "You’re this young, popular and successful Formula One driver, and I’m just… well, me. What if they think I’m just an older woman trying to latch onto your fame? What if they don’t see how happy we are?”.

“Stop it", he said gently, but firmly, “you’re not ‘just’ anything, or someone. You’re incredible, and I’m with you because I want to be. Age is just a number and it doesn’t define how meaningful our relationship is, not to me and it shouldn't be to anyone".

But your doubts resurfaced, relentless as you continued with your voice rising with each word, “But what if your family doesn’t feel the same? What if they think I’m not good enough for their sweet boy? I just… I can't help but overthink it. I love you, and I’m terrified of losing you".

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his and grounding you with his touch, something you explained to him early on that worked wonders for you, “I can’t control what others think, but my family will see how happy you make me. They care about my happiness, not just some number or date".

“But what if they don’t?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. Over the years, you could remember the times where you told patients exactly that, that their mind was looking for survival so that's where it took them.

“They will!", Lando stated, his grip tightening slightly, “Look, it’s not going to be like this forever. People talk, and yes, media can be ruthless, but what matters is how we feel about each other. And I feel lucky to have you in my life. Please trust that, my love".

You looked for reassurance in his eyes as slowly his words began to soothe the turmoil, but the fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface.

“I just don’t want to complicate things for you", you said softly.

Lando brushed his fingers against your cheek, a gentle smile breaking through your anxiety, "you’re not complicating things. You’re adding to my life in a way I never knew I needed. Can we just take this one step at a time together?”.

Lando pulled you into a warm embrace, and for a moment, the weight on your heart lightened. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself to stay in the moment and be there.

“I’ll try", you finally spoke against his shoulder, feeling comfort in his unwavering support.

“I promise I'm not going anywhere", he whispered back, wrapping you tighter in his arms, "we’re in this together".

"Thank you", you mumbled, pecking his lips softly.

"You don't ever need to thank me, not for stuff like this or anything else, we're in this together, lovie", Lando kissed your forehead, "besides, if you ever dump me, I'll have to find a good psychologist to help me through it and you're the best one, so that's another valid point for us to stay together", he chuckled, wanting to get a giggle out of you.

Smiling when he succeeded, Lando squeezed you tighter against him, "never doubt that we were meant to be, Y/N, never".

[aliwritex]

Heyy!! could you make a franco x reader where they are young parents fic?

a/n: this is short but super cute. some thoughts about dad!franco

Finding out you were going to be parents at 21 wasn’t exactly the greatest thing ever. You were scared and confused at first, not knowing what to do about anything, really. And it was a while till you finally figured out what to do about it.

After you told Franco about your suspicion, you took a test and cried yourself to sleep in his arms when it came out positive. That was not what you had planned. Having just finished your studies, you wanted to start working in your area, get married and then finally start thinking about kids.

He did his best throughout your entire pregnancy, of course that landing the Alpine seat meant he was working more but he always made sure you look after you. He suggested you moved in as soon as you found out, already planing to turn the empty room in his apartment into a nursery.

Franco’s excitement made things a lot easier, he loved kids and always wanted some of his own, surely not so early but he had to take what the universe offered. He showered you with attention and he was in love with your bump. When the baby started kicking he’d lay his head on your lap and stay there for hours, feeling all the movements — then telling the baby off for hurting you.

Your baby boy was born in the summer, little Mateo looked just like him, it almost made you mad. But with a face like that it was impossible.

You were convinced that he was the easiest baby ever, completely healthy, settled into a schedule quickly, quiet and not much work at all. That was until he started walking. The boy became impossible, baby proofing the house was needed the day after he stood for the first time. Your once quiet little boy was now a cheeky smiley toddler.

“¡Boludo, te va a dar um toque!” Franco exclaimed, quickly picking up the child from the floor “Did you see that, mi amor? He was pulling the tape from the outlet” he explained popping into the bathroom where you were getting ready

“Don’t swear around him, please”

Mateo was now a little over a year old and was attending his first race. What you didn’t realize about traveling with a curious toddler was how unsafe hotel rooms are. You had managed to tape all the outlets shut but the baby boy was a little too smart for his own good.

“I didn’t swear!”

“Was that not a bad word?” he shook his head and you rolled your eyes “Right. Need to remember to bring the plugs next time, he’s too smart for the tape.”

It’s not that Franco kept you a secret, you just had a private relationship and never posted about your son. So when you walked into the paddock together with a stroller it was a surprise to many people. You tried to keep a low profile but Teo was just too happy to be there, waving and smiling at everyone. He also did not want to be locked up in his dads room while an entire world for him to explore was right outside.

“He kept calling for Papa” you explained as you walked up to the garage.

It was still Friday morning so there wasn’t much happening around, just Franco talking somethings through with his engineer. So he was free to take your son.

“Vení acá, Teo.” the child smiled, slipping his hand away from yours to run to his dad “Wanna see Papa's car?”

Your son absolutely loved everything. You could see his eyes light up in excitement when Franco showed him anything. He picked him up to show him the inside of the car, Teo was giggling as he flipped him almost upside down to look at it. He even pulled out the steering wheel and the kid was perplexed with all the buttons. You took pictures of everything, so many of them both smiling and laughing at each other.

“Right, that’s enough exploring” you took the child from his arms “someone needs a bottle and a nap or they’ll be too cranky to watch Papa drive later. See you in a bit, okay?”

Franco nodded, stealing a quick kiss on your lips before you left. He couldn’t be happier that he had his family there for him.

[sirhamburrger]

DIE WITH A SMILE (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (post-apocalypse au, for day three of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which the only thing you can do is join him in undeath. ━☆ wc (written portion): 831 || tags/cw: f!reader, reader is a researcher working on a cure for the virus, bachira is part of an elite military squad, major character deaths (both bachira and reader, among others)(this is a zombie apocalypse au after all) || event m.list ━☆ why did i write this... this is so sad *runs away crying*

meguru bachira is beautiful. a little tired - that much is evident from the dark circles under his golden eyes - but still: beautiful. his eyes practically light up when you step into the room, clad in full personal protective equipment. 

for a moment you get self conscious of how you look dressed like a walking banana, but that all disappears when he chuckles warmly, making you blush beneath your mask.

“you’re even more beautiful than i expected,” the squadron member breathes.

you cock your head to the side, highly skeptical as you take a seat in front of him. “you can only see my eyes, though,” you point out, voice muffled.

“yeah, well.” a short pause, then, “they say true beauty is all in the eyes.”

you don’t quite know how you should respond to that, so you don’t.

you end up talking to him than is honestly necessary for the psych eval. he’s a sweet man, and the things his squad-mates have said about him are proven true - optimistic, cheerful, perceptive. somehow, the man you’ve only ever been able to talk to over the phone from behind a reinforced glass panel has become one of the people you trust most in this world.

maybe it’s the way he listens to you intently about the stresses of work, lets you confide in him about hard days - especially really hard days when you find out another one of you has been lost to the virus - trusts you enough to spill his own secrets too.

maybe it’s the way he laughs, or calls you pretty when he’s not calling you “doc”. maybe it’s the way you relate to him, both being people with risky jobs. in a broken world like this, either of you could go at any minute. but he helps you accept it, and he helps you embrace it.

but maybe it’s the way he tries to reach a hand out to hold yours on the table during a particularly hard part of the conversation, but restrains himself, a dejected and heartbroken expression on his face.

how ironic that the only thing you want is the only thing you cannot have. not just yet, at least.

it’s been three days since squad z perished in tokyo’s biggest hot zone, and meguru is not doing well.

it started with erratic vitals - high blood pressure, arrhythmia, severe migraines, then escalated  violent outbursts. your superiors don’t allow you in the room with him any more, even though you’d bet your life he would never hurt you. it hurts to see him like this. delirious, in mourning, broken.

he is not the man he once was, and you’re not entirely sure he’ll live long enough to see that change.

he still talks with you, so at least that hasn’t changed. you are one of the last few scientists on earth even remotely close to synthesising a cure, since many have been wiped out already. it’s stressful, frankly, and you’ve had shameful, selfish thoughts about ending it all - joining the dead before you are forced to walk amongst them. but meguru tells you to keep your chin up, doc, you’re getting there.

and who are you to say no to him, if not for the fact that he’s not doing much better himself?

you open up to him once, more than you think you should. you tell him about how you’ve wanted to be a scientist for the longest time as a child, but before that, you wanted to be a singer. but your parents saw no future in it. so you never pursued it further.

in the quiet of the space between you, then, meguru bachira asks if you would sing for him.

and you do.

you don’t even notice when he starts to cry, but you know that you’re crying too.

you bring him flowers sometimes. he lets them die in a corner of the confinement cell. you can’t blame him for not even trying.

the horde has broken in.

all your colleagues, your superiors, your friends - they’re all gone. they’ve all been reduced to mindless monsters, hungry for human flesh. now, those monsters push against the door, trying to get to you.

you stare back through the glass, eyes landing on meguru, who convulses on the ground, clutching his head. his head jerks backwards, blood spilling from his mouth. just like all the others. you let out a sob, your heart aching for him.

you fumble for your phone.

the air smells like blood, and meguru looks like hell.

you pad towards him slowly, tears streaming down your face. you freeze when he notices you, hunger in his bloodshot eyes. you take a step towards him. hold his hand. embrace him. tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

he’s crying now as he mumbles something. it sounds like i’m sorry and thank you. maybe it’s both. you feel hot breath on your neck, and his sharp teeth sinking into your skin.

and all is well in the world.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[ink-waster]

Hi, how have you been? I haven't posted anything in a while and I've had these drawings for a long time. It was about time they saw the light of day.

I still continue making stories about them, I love them too much but lately I haven't drawn them, but guess what...

I recently saw bungou stray dogs, I already knew about this anime Since 2020 but I never saw it, now that changed and I have been paying too much attention to Dazai and Ranpo (whom I already knew before watching the anime) but I really don't know if you're interested in seeing a drawing of them.

After all, it's my account, but I'm very interested in the opinion of people who have seen one of my drawings. I hope you're doing well and don't get sick. I recently recovered, so take care of yourself.

[hivemuthur]

What was that? - Ch. 8.

viktorxfemale!OFC mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 4,6K

tag: #what was that

summary: More banter and slight angst! Jayce speaks French, and we are about to even out with AO3 which means I will post chapter 10 in two days :)

author’s note: Beta reader: @rennethen

Cross-posted on AO3

—

A week had passed since their trip to the Undercity, though the memory of their near-moment lingered like a stubborn ember refusing to die out. Viktor had kept his distance, returning to his meticulous work, while Renly buried herself in testing the formula. She really wanted to make it before the gala on upcoming weekend. The tension between them was not sharp or angry but... unresolved. Words left unsaid.

Now, as she stood at the threshold of his workspace, cradling the first viable test sample in her hands, that tension seemed to knot her throat. She tapped softly on the metal frame of the door, and Viktor turned, his golden eyes catching hers.

“Viktor,” she began, her voice betraying her nerves, “I—um—I wanted to show you something.”

He set aside the intricate mechanism he’d been tinkering with and gave her his full attention. “What is it?”

Renly crossed the room slowly, holding the small vial out like an offering. “The cure… or at least, the first viable iteration of it. It’s ready for testing.”

Viktor’s gaze dropped to the vial in her hands. His expression, as always, was difficult to read, but there was a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe even hope. She couldn’t be sure.

“I thought,” Renly continued hesitantly, “that you might—well, you might want to try it. But only if you’re comfortable. I don’t want you to feel like…” She trailed off, suddenly aware of how heavy the moment felt. “Like I’m treating you as some sort of… experiment.”

Viktor took the vial from her with gentle hands, his fingers brushing against hers for a fraction of a second. “You would never,” he said softly, his voice carrying a certainty that made her stomach flip. He studied the vial, the pale, faintly glowing liquid catching the light.

Renly twisted her hands nervously. “I just... I know how much you’ve already risked, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m—”

“Renly,” he interrupted, looking up at her. His eyes, earnest and steady, caught hers and held them. “You are not asking anything I would not willingly give.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The words he’d just said hung between them, weighted with layers of meaning that neither dared unpack.

“You trust me that much?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Viktor’s lips curved into a faint smile, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly higher than the other. “More than you realize.”

Her chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. She wanted to respond, to say something meaningful, but her thoughts tangled together. Instead, she nodded, and handed him a small parchment with dosage instructions, her own tentative smile matching his.

Viktor glanced back at the vial, his expression turning contemplative. “If this works,” he murmured, half to himself, “you will have done something remarkable—not just for me, but for all of Zaun. I hope you see that.”

His words sank in, and for the first time, she felt the enormity of what she was trying to accomplish—the weight of all those counting on her, including Viktor himself.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said, attempting a lightness she didn’t quite feel. “It’s only the first trial.”

“Even so,” Viktor replied, his gaze lifting back to hers, “it is a step forward. And for that, I am grateful.”

With that, Viktor pocketed the vial, his movements deliberate, his expression unreadable once more. The moment stretched on before he turned back to his desk. “I will let you know how it goes.”

Renly hesitated for a moment longer, wanting to say something—anything—that might ease the invisible wall that had risen between them since that night in the Undercity. But in the end, she simply nodded and slipped out of the room, her heart heavy with things left unsaid.

***

The grand day had finally arrived. Viktor and Jayce were rehearsing their presentations for the fundraising gala. They knew their work inside and out—every discovery with Hextech had been thoroughly tested and meticulously documented. The primary focus of their practice speeches, however, was to ensure that Piltover's wealthy elite would view their innovations as they did: a beacon of life-changing progress, meant to be harnessed for peaceful purposes.

“She’s late,” Jayce muttered, glancing at the clock. “Renly’s never late. What if she bailed on us?”

Viktor didn’t look up from his notes. “She would not do that. Perhaps she is simply… taking her time.”

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but the creak of the lab door froze him mid-step. Both men turned toward the sound.

Renly stepped inside, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. Her heels clicked softly against the tiled floor, their sharp rhythm underscoring the quiet hum of the lab’s machines. But it wasn’t just her entrance that demanded attention—it was everything else.

Gone was the practicality of her work attire, the reliable fabrics stained by chemicals and the scuffs from long hours. In their place was a dress—blood red, sleek, and elegant, a daring statement of confidence and boldness that seemed to make the very air around her shimmer. It hugged her frame tastefully, the neckline hinting at daring but never straying into excess. A delicate silver chain rested against her collarbone, the simple accessory accentuating her sharp features. Her hair was swept back, leaving her face unobscured, framed by the glow of polished poise.

“Sorry I’m late,” Renly said, her voice casual as she set her bag down. “Had to find something that wasn’t covered in stains.”

Viktor stared. His brain, so capable in the realm of logic and science, utterly failed him now. Words tangled in his throat like frayed wires, and after a pause that seemed eternal, he finally managed to stammer, “You look… astonishing.”

The word lingered, weightier than intended. Jayce stopped pacing, eyebrows lifting in shock, his head snapping toward Viktor as if to confirm he’d heard correctly. Viktor stiffened almost immediately, his grip tightening on the cane as he realized what he’d said aloud. He cleared his throat, looking away in a feeble attempt to recover.

Renly, however, didn’t miss a beat. Amusement flickered in her eyes as a slow smile curved her lips. She tilted her head, her tone playful but warm as she responded, “Thank you, Viktor.” A slight pause, and then, with the faintest edge of mischief, “I could say the same about you, but I’m not sure ‘astonishing’ is the right word for a man who insists on wearing a cravat to every occasion.”

Jayce burst into laughter, loud and sudden, while Viktor shot him a withering sidelong glare. His discomfort deepened as Renly took a step closer, her grin widening.

“But it suits you,” she added, her voice softening but still teasing. Her eyes locked on his, glimmering with an energy he didn’t quite know how to place. “Distinguished, refined… and maybe just a little bit pretentious.”

Jayce leaned against the counter, practically doubled over from laughing. Viktor’s composure frayed further, his ears burning crimson at the edges. “I am glad my wardrobe provides such endless entertainment,” he muttered, his voice dry but noticeably tight.

Renly chuckled, the sound light and unbothered. “Alright, boys, let’s get these speeches sorted. I didn’t put on this dress just to make fun of Viktor.” Her gaze lingered on him for half a second longer than necessary before she added, with a smirk, “Though that is a very nice bonus.”

Jayce continued to snicker, but Viktor barely noticed. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus on the notes in his hand even as his thoughts refused to follow suit. Renly moved toward the blackboard, her heels clicking against the floor like punctuation marks, commanding attention with every step.

For a fleeting moment, Viktor allowed himself to watch her, unguarded, unrestrained. His equilibrium, so carefully maintained in all other matters, was noticeably absent. But despite the flustered edges of his thoughts, one truth remained clear: whatever chaos Renly brought, he didn’t mind.

“I have to be honest with you guys—I am scared shitless,” Renly said, turning on her heel. She spoke more to the room than to her friends.

“What…? Why?” Jayce snorted at her blunt statement. “You’ve got this. Besides, Renly, you’re the only one of us who has fresh presentation practice. You teach students all the time!”

“I know, I know,” she said with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “But with the students, I know I’m talking to people who at least try to understand what I’m explaining.” She paused, her tone carrying a hint of exasperation. “Here, we’re presenting to people who might not have the slightest clue about the science—and on top of that, we have to… balance it,” she mused, pacing back and forth in front of the blackboard.

Viktor’s lips curled into a smirk as he watched her pace, her earlier worry still etched on her face. He decided to step in—not just to own his earlier compliment, but also to draw her focus away from her nerves. “I doubt the poor boy Ezra would survive if you showed up to teach class in this dress,” he remarked, his tone light but teasing.

Renly blinked, caught off guard for a moment before her wit kicked in. “And here I was, thinking it was you who’d be his doom if he ever came near me again.”

Viktor tilted his head slightly, his smile widening as though conceding the point. “I think if you simply be yourself tonight, no one will dare to refuse you funding—or misplace your work—for fear of being eviscerated by your words,” he said, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Jayce glanced at the clock and clapped his hands together. “Alright, folks, time to go! Vite, vite!”

Renly grabbed her coat and, as they headed out the door, leaned in just close enough to whisper to Viktor, “By the way, I actually think you look very nice tonight too.”

***

She was right—it was absolutely terrifying. Bright lights, the constant hum of voices and laughter, the clinking of cutlery, the swell of music, and the shuffle of footsteps all blended into one overwhelming cacophony, crashing over Renly’s senses in unrelenting waves. Strangers brushed past her, their hands grazing her bare shoulders or the small of her back as they squeezed through the crowded room. The invasion of personal space only heightened her unease.

This was nothing like her classes. Her students were quiet and predictable in comparison—tame, even. But this… this was—

“You look pale.”

Viktor’s low voice cut through the din, and she felt his presence behind her before she saw him. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, carrying the faint, teasing scent of champagne. The unexpected intimacy of it made her shiver.

“Are you alright?”

“Totally,” she lied, her fingers fidgeting in front of her in a telltale gesture of discomfort.

“I know that ‘totally.’ It is no good,” Viktor said softly, concern shadowing his expression. Gently, he turned her to face him, his hand brushing against hers. “What do you need?”

“Quiet. And, um… a drink, maybe?” Renly raised an eyebrow, half-joking, as if gauging whether Viktor would judge her for indulging in a little liquid courage before the important presentation. “If you don’t think it would be… improper.”

Viktor didn’t hesitate. “Come.” He offered his hand, his tone gentle yet firm.

Renly took it without thinking, letting herself be guided toward the balcony. As they passed a waiter, Viktor paused and gestured toward the tray of champagne flutes. “Will you manage two? My hands are a little… busy,” he said, his smile playful as he raised their intertwined palms toward the view. Of course, the cane. She forgot briefly.

The crisp air of the evening was like a balm, soothing her stressed body with its cool touch. As they stepped out onto the balcony, the noise of the gala dimmed, and Renly found herself breathing more easily, the weight of the chaos inside melting away. She leaned against the railing, letting the quiet settle around her like a protective shield.

Viktor, ever observant, stood beside her for a moment, watching her with a soft intensity. “I know that feeling,” he said quietly. “The world getting too loud, the weight of the eyes on you. If you need some grounding, or maybe just a pep talk before you face the stage…” He trailed off, waiting for her response.

Renly glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the tension still coiling in her stomach. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity mingling with her unease.

Viktor moved closer, propping his cane carefully against the railing. He turned to face her fully, and for a moment, all the noise of the event seemed to fade into the background. His hands landed gently on her shoulders, steadying her. His touch was firm but not controlling, a reminder of his quiet strength, and when his eyes met hers, she saw something rare there—genuine care, but also something deeper.

“You go up on that stage,” Viktor said, his voice low and steady, the words almost like a command. “It’s quiet, there is only you. All those people, they should be scared of you, not you of them. What you are capable of. How wise you are. How strong.”

Renly’s breath caught in her throat as she absorbed his words. His gaze held her, unwavering, as though he were willing her to believe in her own power. She felt the words sink deep, quieting the storm of nerves that had been brewing inside her.

“And now,” he continued, his voice softer but still firm, “drink.”

Renly’s fingers tightened around the champagne flute, her eyes lingering on his face as the brief moment stretched out between them. The warmth of his presence, his steadying touch, and the sheer simplicity of his confidence seemed to wash over her. She took a deep breath, the knot in her chest loosening as she sipped from her glass, the cool liquid running smoothly down her throat.

In that moment, on the balcony under the dim light of the stars, it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of them. The gala, the people, the expectations—everything faded away, leaving only Viktor and his quiet strength. There was no pressure, no judgment, just a calm understanding between them.

Renly let herself relax, letting Viktor’s presence anchor her. She wasn’t alone in this. She had her work. She had her mind. And, in a way she hadn’t fully realized until now, she had Viktor. She gave him a small, grateful smile, the tension in her shoulders melting further as she felt his steady gaze on her.

“Alright,” she murmured, setting the glass down. “I’m ready.”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a smile, though it was subtle. He gave her shoulders a final squeeze, his hands slipping away. “You’ve always been ready.”

***

Renly’s heart still fluttered as the echoes of applause faded away, the weight of the speech finally lifting from her shoulders. The donors had been impressed, their pledges securing two years of funding for her research—a small victory in the grander scheme, but one that felt monumental to her. She spotted Viktor in the crowd as she finished, his gaze steady and approving, but when the applause died down and the crowd shifted, he was nowhere to be found. She felt an odd pang of disappointment, but quickly shook it off, knowing he’d likely retreated to avoid the attention she was receiving.

She was about to step off the stage when Jayce appeared, grinning broadly. “Renly! You did it! I told you, you’d kill it up there.” His voice was warm with pride, and he clapped her on the back before pulling her into a tight hug. Renly laughed, a little breathless.

“You weren’t wrong,” she admitted. “Though I’m sure you just wanted me to do well for the sake of your own ego. You did help me practice a lot.”

“Of course, it was for you,” Jayce teased, “but mostly because now I can say I knew you when you became a star.” His grin grew wider as Mel Medarda approached with her usual effortless elegance.

Renly’s eyes lit up when she saw her. “Mel, you look absolutely beautiful as usual.” The words slipped out naturally, and there was an affectionate tone in her voice. The inside joke between them—how Mel Medarda, despite whatever else might happen, was always beautiful—never grew old.

Mel gave her a teasing glance. “Thank you, Renly,” she said, “though you’re not too bad yourself.” She shot a sideways glance at Jayce, who was still laughing at Renly’s comment. “It’s good to see you so relaxed. You seemed like a completely different person up there. Confident. Powerful.”

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without Viktor,” Renly replied, before realizing how much that might imply. She quickly added, “You know, his advice. He’s always been the calm in the chaos. You’ve probably noticed.”

Mel raised an eyebrow, but before she could comment, a few other guests approached, eager to congratulate Renly. She graciously accepted their compliments on her work, her mind drifting slightly as more drinks were brought her way. The weight of the evening started to feel more like a pleasant haze as the alcohol began to take effect, loosening her up a little. She could feel herself getting a little warmer, the buzz of the evening mixing with the buzz from the champagne.

When the conversation began to dwindle and the crowd dispersed, Renly found herself slipping back out onto the balcony, craving the quiet again. The cool air welcomed her, and she leaned against the railing, taking a long breath to steady herself. It was then that she heard Viktor’s soft footsteps approaching behind her.

“Thought I might find you here,” he said quietly, standing beside her. He had a glass in his hand, but it seemed he’d had much less to drink than she had. Still, the slight edge of warmth in her words betrayed the effect the alcohol was having on her.

“I’m glad you came,” Renly said, her words a little more slurred than she intended. “I thought you disappeared on me.”

“I’m never far, Renly,” Viktor replied, his voice steady, though his gaze softened as he studied her. “How are you feeling? Your speech was brilliant. I have no idea how you can be so brilliant, but I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me.”

Renly smiled, though her cheeks flushed slightly from the compliment. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she murmured, her voice dipping into something more sincere. She turned toward him slightly, her words flowing faster than she meant. “You’ve always been the one who steadies me. The one who helps me see things clearly, even when the world’s too loud. I—I wouldn’t be here without your guidance. Your strength. It’s—”

Her words faltered, and she suddenly caught herself. She was bordering on saying too much, on revealing something she wasn’t ready to say. The vulnerability felt too raw. She blinked, clearing her throat, trying to regain some composure.

“Dance with me?” she said suddenly, her voice less steady now but still filled with something unspoken.

Viktor blinked, caught off guard by her request. “I... I don’t dance,” his voice quiet as he fixed his eyes on the floor, shifting uncomfortably.

“I don’t know what else to call what you’ve been doing around me those last couple of months,” she blurted out before she could stop, earning herself a concerned smile from him.

Viktor’s breath hitched, the weight of her words settling on him, both unexpected and revealing. He had hoped his attention to her, the fleeting moments between them, had gone unnoticed. But here she was, calling it out, putting words to the tension that had been building between them. He quickly glanced away, feeling the heat of her gaze lingering, but he couldn’t shake the unease that crept in. He didn't know how to navigate this space they were now in.

“I could offer my assistance in walking you home. It was a long evening,” Viktor said, his voice taking on a more neutral tone as he ignored her comment, though the sting of it lingered. She had noticed. All of those brief, charged exchanges between them.

But now—now she seemed to be asking for something more. And that, more than anything, left him unsure.

Renly saw the hesitation in his eyes, and she felt a familiar knot form in her stomach. She had never been good at reading the signs, but she couldn’t ignore the way Viktor had looked at her, the way he’d touched her, the quiet moments that seemed to speak volumes. It all seemed to point to something, didn’t it? Yet here he was, avoiding it.

“I didn’t mean to...” she trailed off, suddenly unsure of herself. “I’m not asking for anything. I just thought... Maybe I misread things.” Her voice softened, the alcohol having loosened her tongue and her thoughts. “But if that’s not what you want, it’s okay. I’m just...” She paused, biting her lip as she tried to steady herself.

Viktor let the silence hang between them for a moment, his hand resting gently at her waist. He could feel the weight of her uncertainty, but it mirrored his own. He had become used to playing the steady, composed part of the equation, but tonight, that seemed harder than ever. He wanted to reassure her, to say something that would ease the tension, but his mind was clouded, and he didn’t quite know what to say.

Instead, he took a step closer, his hand slightly tightening around her waist. “You’ve had quite the night, Renly,” he said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes. But if you need to talk about any of this… I will listen.”

Renly met his gaze, her eyes soft and searching, but it was clear she was still a little lost in her own thoughts. She sighed and, without thinking, rested her forehead against his chest. She felt a small sense of comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her.

“I don’t know how to be around you anymore, Viktor,” she murmured, her voice almost too soft to hear. “But maybe I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel it. Whatever this is between us.”

Viktor’s throat tightened as he looked down at her, his own feelings echoing hers. He had always been a master of keeping his emotions in check, but there was something about Renly that disarmed him. Something about her presence, the way she made him feel both grounded and entirely lost at the same time.

His greatest fear still stood unshaken, though: the fear of anyone, of her, seeing how incomplete he was, how damaged. He did feel slightly better since he started taking her formula, but it was too early to tell. Still, this would only solve one of his problems. Admittedly, that problem was imminent death, but the liability of his spine, of his leg, would remain with him forever. He never allowed anyone to stay with him on this journey for longer than a flicker of time—fleeting affairs, singular events, neither forgotten nor remembered in much detail. He feared dependency. His entire body feared her and screamed for her at the same time.

“I’m not pretending,” he whispered, his voice low, the words coming more easily now that they were alone in the quiet of the night. He paused, as if searching for the right words. “But sometimes it’s easier to stay silent than to risk... changing things.”

Renly pulled back just slightly, lifting her head to meet his eyes, and in that moment, she saw the vulnerability in his gaze, the uncertainty that had always been there but that he kept hidden so well.

“I don’t want to change things,” she said quietly, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I just want to know if you feel it too.”

The question hung between them, and for the first time that evening, Viktor didn’t have the answer ready. The words came from the part of him that was strongest—the one that was protecting him from himself. “I don’t have an answer, Renly. But I think… maybe we should get back to this when we are both… rested.” He really wanted to avoid using the word ‘drunk.’ He felt her face wrinkle on his chest as she turned away, trying to hide her expression.

“Yes, that’s fair. I’ll get home by myself just fine,” Renly threw over her shoulder, her voice straining.

“Are you—” Before Viktor could finish his question, she cut him off. “Please. I’ll see you on Monday.”

[divine-misfortune]

Alright Miasma encouraged me to post the message from dms soooo...Wall of text below the cut, nothing outright nsfw just being weird : )

I am such a fucking freak for making Phantom naive and having someone take advantage of it i cannot help it

Bonus points if they're out at a bar, cause he just sees drunk people around them and that's what alcohol does to you, right? So he starts acting like the people around him. There's a woman at the far end of the room getting ditzy and handsy. Cuddly and giggly, leaning on swiss' shoulder, playing with his hand in his lap, practically purring through his glamor which swiss really should scold him for but it's so damn cute.

The second bottle is gone and Swiss hums that maybe he should swap over to soda for the rest of the night. Little thing like him surely can't hold his "alcohol" - and Phantom whines because "Well dew can drink as much as he likes!! He's lil!!" And yeah, he is, but Dew's got a tolerance for these things (smthn smthn fire ghouls burn alcohol faster like when you cook food w wine in it idk it doesn't matter much).

Huffs and puffs cause he's not a light weight and he's fine, barely feels anything, he likes it, cmon just one more? Swiss chuckles and shakes his head, gives him a little kiss on the temple and mumbles that "I'll learn to say no to you one of these days yknow." Gets a little happy chirp and a smug little "mhm 'course."

Cirrus gives him a look when he saddles up to the bar between her and Cumulus, asks if hes taking care of the little bug. It's his first time out after all. Swiss smiles innocently because of course he is, he'll always take good care of him, never let aaaanything happen to him. Just helping him have fun, feel good. Both ghoulettes know that tone in his voice but he's walking off with bottles in hands before either can call him on it - and besides, their tables aaaall the way over there, and Cirrus gets distracted by Cumulus eating the cherry out of her drink (and then tying the stem in a knot with her tongue).

Swiss tells him to pace himself and Phantom huffs he knows how to drink and yeah. Sure you do.

The level of the bottle goes down and Swiss' hand just keeps moving. From fingers being laced with his to squeezing his knee, drifting, petting his thigh slowly. Not super high up but enough he knows Phantom is watching and holding his breath for it.

Phantom mumbles something about feeling funny while staring at his hand, holding the bottle tight in both of his own, mouth of the bottle resting against his lower lip. He looks fixated. A little entranced by the motion. Swiss feels the ache of desire in his teeth, the same desire the wolf is driven by to chase the little stumbling baby deer.

"Think I wanna go back."

"Aw, already? We haven't been here that long baby."

"'M tired…"

"Poor baby, couldn't handle your drinks. Told you so."

"Noooo! Just tired, barely feel anything." Cute when he argues.

"Well its dangerous to go walking off on your own if youre drunk, but…If you're just tired, then you don't need me to walk you back then, do ya bug?"

He almost looks a little disappointed but tells him that no, he can make it home just fine."im not helpless or anything."

"Of course you're not."

And yeah it's only a few blocks!! It's not a long walk at all, but Swiss and that silver tongue have convinced him hes tipsy. And yeah, his body /is/ tired after all the travel.

But its a city he doesn't know. It's late and dark and the streets are so empty. Swiss doesn't know how he doesn't see the shadows and how they start to lurk, or note that the streetlights flicker as he passes. He forgot how much he loved to stalk. Especially when it's someone who doesn't know his dirty tricks.

Swiss giving Aeon a nonalcoholic beer one night without telling him, and being absolutely delighted when the little lightweight starts acting silly after half a bottle. Encouraging him to finish the bottle and cracking the lid on another as Aeon gets more and more "drunk", absolutely delighted at how easily influenced the new kid is.

Hope he doesn't take advantage when Aeon starts getting clingy and rubbing up against him.

That would be just terrible...

[punksalmon]

"it's the date night cologne," buck repeats

[whiteredrose13]

AAAAAA, OKAY-- @persephone-s-moon I could not find their updated refs for the life of me, so, woe, busted old concept art be upon ye. (Excuse the wonky proportions, these were done on my phone.)

Shortest rundown I can manage:

Did someone order a tragic throuple with time-travel/reincarnation shenanigans and a side of hurt/comfort/fluff?

Candavata Bhatia: Elven queen, from the kingdom of Sona, and the baddest bitch to ever live. In order to prove herself worthy of holding the crown over her sisters, she needed to channel one of the gods. So, not only did she channel one, she called upon Bijalee, the embodiment of lightning and storms--and the most difficult one to channel due to her wild and hazardous nature. She has been the only person to do so, aside from the First Queen. This earned her the titles of Storm Bringer and Lightning Tamer. She and Qamar are married and have been best friends since childhood. Can you tell I love her?

(Side note: Editing this on my laptop and holy ashy tone, Batman. Hoping it's just my screen because my girl does NOT look like this, I promise--)

Qamar Abn awaa: Werejackal prince, devout cleric of Layl, goddess of the night and medicine, and the definition of the "I'm a healer, but--" meme. He managed to show both great power and promise from an early age when, during a political visit to the Sona royal court, he used his knowledge of anatomy to turn one of Candavata's would-be assassins inside out. This is where he and Candi's marriage was arranged. He is of a generally very sunny disposition, which often makes people underestimate him, as they assume he's useless in serious situations--but, when shit hits the fan, he's the one you want to be next to. (I started designing him when I did not understand how to map out locs or braids. Qamar, my prince, I am so sorry, I swear I will do right by you and fix whatever monstrosity I gave you.)

Vincenzo Virago: Vampire duke. The intersection of an emotionally constipated killing machine and massive nerd failure. He's head over heels for both Candi and Qamar, but he doesn't feel like he can tell them, due to the fact that he views himself as unlovable, both wanting and growing jealous of them. (He is completely oblivious to the fact that they are also in love with him.) He's terrified of turning into his father, but it seems like everything he does only turns him further down that path. He's a warlord. He's a wet cat. He needs therapy.

It's a stable, constant dynamic. You never see one without the other. Where Qamar goes, Candi is right beside him, and Vince is right behind them. Whenever something goes wrong, usually they're at the center of it, all having different roles in the trouble. Candi, the planner, Qamar, the keen lookout, and Vince, the instigator. He keeps the two of them grounded, on their toes, and they do what they can to keep him away from his father. Even after they graduate and take their places in their respective castes, they stay in touch.

The story itself begins at the worst part of their relationship.

At this point, Candavata and Qamar have been married and are tending to their responsibilities as king and queen of their joined empire. Though they try to stay in touch with Vincenzo, it's difficult--and Vince doesn't make it easy, either. Over the years, he becomes withdrawn. He stops answering their letters, he refuses to see them when they come in person, every time. After a while, they stop trying. Not because they don't love him, they do, but there's only so much you can do when a person doesn't want (or doesn't think they deserve) help.

Vincenzo, after years of sitting with the jealousy and battling his father's horrendous treatment, broke. He didn't just spiral, he nose-dived, doubling down on every bit of gossip and rumor, until he's changed and warped into something even he can't recognize. He shuts out Candi and Qamar. Maybe he doesn't want to taint them, maybe he thinks this is how it was meant to go, maybe he can't stand their gentle hands or the pitying look in their eyes. Maybe he just wants the excuse. Whatever it is, Vincenzo becomes a monster, with blood on his hands.

In the end, Candi and Qamar had to be the ones to put him down.

Which is where we get into the time/reincarnation fuckery.

Because, when the pain fades and Vincenzo opens his eyes, expecting to see whatever eternal damnation looks like, he sees his university bedroom. Littered with textbooks and letters from Candi and Qamar, and his graduation robes hanging on the back of the door.

He's got a second chance to go back and unfuck everything, but only time will tell if he'll succeed or end up exactly where he was before.

Something, something, breaking cycles and being open with your loved ones, allowing yourself to be loved by others and yourself, and sometimes men are at their best covered in blood and a little bit pathetic.

(Oh, and, you want a really fun fact? Vince isn't the only one who remembers the original timeline.)

[aroanthy]

being gay and aromantic is wild because people will accuse you of hating gay people because you (checks notes) wish people would be a little more critical of romance as a patriarchal structure. the thing is that rgu literally does this, it examines and interrogates how romance is a patriarchal structure. every time i talk about aromanticism in rgu people get very upset about that, as though aromanticism impedes queerness— i did not realise we were still doing exclusionism so bare faced. every time i talk about aromanticism, people get upset. im not even talking about it in relation to the show, instead making a general throwaway post about the weight that people afford anything that deals in Romance, and i get told that rgu is a romance and i should cry about it. like. what? rgu made me realise i was aromantic. i was already gay and that gave me the final piece of the puzzle.

to be gay and aromantic does not mean you Just Have Friends (? what does this even mean, let’s unpack this statement at a later date): to be gay and aromantic means myriad things for myriad people. it means queer sex, it means queer connections that aren’t defined as ‘romantic’, it means queer attraction, it means queer understanding. nothing about this devalues romantic queerness, though i must say that every time i post about aromanticism someone has to qualify my words with a statement about how romance is cool too. and sure, it is, but you can maybe understand how that’s exhausting when you actually want a meaningful conversation about your identity. anyway aromantic people i love you aromantic people and gay people i love you gay people (i am both. godbless goodnight)

[cuteniarose]

Kat and Nia and their Multiverse of Madness

A masterpost for the intricate web of AUs co-created by @katkastrofa and yours truly, with linked art, fics and relevant posts for maximum convenience

(Compiled into one post mainly to help keep track of everything now that it's grown so big, but also specifically written out for @rokurookajima since she was interested. Will continue to be updated as things develop further)

Under the read more, because fair warning, this is LONG

MAIN VERSES:

We have many different AUs as part of our multiverse, but there are only two main ones, with the rest either being based on SotRL or a mix of it and FAtC:

Seeds of the Red Lotus – Suiren and Midori, my first OCs and Ming-Hua and Ghazan's children, grow up in Gaoling with their abusive paternal aunt, Haya (she wasn't abusive towards Ghazan, which is why he was inclined to trust her with his kids, but her grudge against him for abandoning her in favour of the RL + prejudice against the Swamp tribes, where Ming-Hua is from, because the illness that killed her parents started there, led her to taking out her anger on his daughters, particularly on Suiren, who is way too much like her mother). Their childhoods are awful in unique ways, and in an attempt to earn enough money to move out, Suiren, a waterbender, takes up a job as an assassin, which just further worsens her already nonexistent mental stability. In 174 AG, Team Avatar hires her as a last ditch effort to defeat Kuvira (and no, there is no giant mecha suit, because it's stupid and I hate it), and both sisters are taken to Air Temple Island. I never finished the fic itself, though I am slowly dabbling in a rewrite + continuation, but most of the discussions Kat and I have still take place in this verse, or more specifically, what we call post-SotRL

(Post-SotRL – After Suiren fails to kill Kuvira and sustains an injury to her leg, she and Midori leave ATI and by pure chance reunite with their parents and P'Li (all of whom survived the Book 3 finale and spent 3 years in hiding, because I said so). Of course, it's not all sunshine and rainbows – there are 16 years' worth of trauma, pain and guilt to work through, after all. That process is the central theme of Kat's Roots series. Some time later, Kuvira is defeated and sentenced to death, but Suiren (who's been high-key obsessed with her ever since the failed assassination) decides to break her out of jail and save her life, which leads to the start of their enemies to unwilling roommates/fuckbuddies to lovers arc. The event itself is detailed in Kat's WISH, and I myself have written this dynamic both in Astraphobia and my unfinished Avatar Sapphic Week contributions. At roughly the same time, Midori reconnects with Opal (who she met while at ATI) and they begin a relationship of their own (bc Bopal was comphet and you cannot convince me otherwise), a bit later Bolin joins the gang (gets semi-adopted by Ghazan and discovers that his mom and P’Li are actually cousins who never got to meet, so P’Li gets some family back too), and eventually this merry band of misfits break Zaheer out of jail, and what follows is some difficult political stuff that neither of us are too keen to get into, but the point is that in the end, the Red Lotus are allowed to peacefully exist and the world is slowly changing for the better)

Fate Amenable to Change – A set of fics exploring a Red Lotus Korra AU, canon to Kat's main backstory fic, Lost and Found (SotRL builds on the same events with the same backstories for P'Li and Zaheer, but with Ghazan being from Gaoling instead of Ba Sing Se, his sister's name being different, and him being childhood friends with Ming-Hua. Suiren and Midori are also not canon to FAtC). The main fic, Empty and Become Wind, differs from most other RL Korra fics because she wasn't kidnapped, rather the RL convinced her parents to run away with them, but unfortunately, both of them were killed when Korra was 11. After that, the RL took up residence in Zaofu right up until it was time for Korra to learn airbending, upon which they all relocate to Republic City. Kat's co-writer for this series quit writing, and since then we've basically adopted the two most prominent OCs from it – Nazra, P'heer's combustionbending daughter, and Tsomo, a blind airbender born to Lin and Tenzin before they broke up. The two of them feature in a few of our SotRL-based AUs (and yes, they're lesbians and in love, did you really expect anything else?). We don't really explore this verse because both of us are obsessed with Suiren and Midori, but it deserves a mention nonetheless.

SECONDARY VERSES:

Under the Oak's Shade – The first secondary AU ever created, a result of a passing idea of an AU where Zhi (P'Li's mentor and parental figure from Kat's LaF) and her partner Ikiaq (a bloodbending healer. Yes, these two are also lesbians) take in Suiren and Midori after their parents are imprisoned. Due to being unable to cope with her own grief, it takes Zhi six months to get to the girls, which was enough time for Haya's abuse to leave its mark. Both girls are nothing at all like the kids described in the letters P'Li used to send, and while Midori is quick to revert back and soak in all of Zhi's affection, Suiren is angry, skittish, terrified and resentful, reluctant to let Zhi anywhere near her. The series is still in progress, but the current plan is that Zhi will take them to the North Pole, where she lives with Ikiaq, and they shall help the girls heal from their trauma and grow up happy and healthy. One notable detail is that Suiren will train under Ikiaq and become a bloodbender, which will eventually enable her to enact a plan to break the RL out of prison early on. There have also been talks of a Red Lotus Korra element to this AU as well, but we'll have to discuss it in more detail

Ultimate AU – One of the mixes between SotRL and FAtC. This AU has existed pretty much forever, as I very quickly came up with a "hey, what if Suiren, Midori and Nazra all existed in the same verse?" concept. It is also the birthplace of Kuviren and Green Opal, both started as inside jokes, so remember kids, be careful with what you joke about, it might just become an important part of your story. It gained proper shape in May 2024 when I came up with an AU of LaF in which P'Li's little sister, Lien-Hua, gets to live and is also rescued from the warlord by Zaheer. Lien-Hua haunts the narrative of our multiverse (and actually, in SotRL-verse Midori is her reincarnation!!), she's really the central part of it all, and so it was decided that if she gets to live, everyone else does too. Xai Bau, the Red Lotus founder who died closer to the end of LaF, survives. The AU follows the storyline of FAtC with Korra's parents joining the RL, but they also get to live. In Zaofu, the kids get to grow up happily with their parents, the seeds for Kuviren and Green Opal are planted, and it's genuinely all very soft and fluffy up until Republic City and the Equalist conflict comes into the picture and things take on a darker turn. But before then, the worst thing that happens is Kuvira rejecting Suiren because she's convinced Renny (who's a massive flirt with a love for low cut dresses in this verse) is just playing with her and her feelings aren't genuine. But they sort it out soon enough, don't you worry. Essentially, this is the AU we turn to when the angst gets to be Too Much

Mud of Adversity – Another mix of SotRL and FAtC, this time a lot more angsty. Starts out the same as SotRL, with the exception of Nazra being left with Haya as well, meaning that Suiren's burden of being the protector has doubled. Haya knows who Nazra's mother is and thus is scared of her, so Naz doesn't get hit (Haya views her as a walking time bomb, essentially), but they're not given enough food to satisfy Nazra's increased appetite and she's made to feel like a freak for her height and abilities. Though in some ways, she's luckier than her sisters because she's allowed to firebend while earth- and waterbending are banned. The reason is the same, Haya being afraid that Nazra will spontaneously combust if her fire builds up for too long. Years later, when the girls are teens, Nazra gets angry at Haya for beating Suiren and accidentally kills her with her combustionbending. They dispose of the body, leave Gaoling and go into hiding, Suiren taking up her assassin job to keep them fed. When the RL escape from prison in Book 3, they go to check up on their daughters only to find an empty house, causing them all to imagine the worst. We never did finish figuring out how this AU develops, but this is the basic gist of it and maybe one day, we'll return to it

Sacrifice AU – The angstiest SotRL AU there is. As mentioned, people in the small corner of Gaoling Haya lives in are prejudiced towards the Swamp tribes, blaming them for the disease that killed so many, and Suiren as a swampbender becomes the subject of many rumours and superstitions. With time, the townspeople start to see her as a spirit (because it's easier to ignore the obvious abuse of a child if she's not a child at all, but a malevolent spirit and an omen of doom), and the rumours reach their peak when Suiren becomes an assassin and is now able to afford a slightly better life for herself and Midori, at which point it is decided that she must be the reason everyone else lives in poverty, because why else does she live better than them? Getting rid of her will be their salvation. So one night a few months after the Red Lotus allegedly die, on a new moon so Suiren is at her weakest, they attack, intending to sacrifice her as a way of securing prosperity, and kill Midori while they're at it. Kuvira, who at that point has already started her Great Uniter work, happens to be in Gaoling at the same time and saves them, taking them to Zaofu for their safety. Desperate to feel alive again, Suiren falls into bed with Kuvira on that very first night and regrets it a lot since now Kuvira keeps looking at her as if she expects something (Kuvira is just concerned, but try telling Suiren that). Traumatised, suffering from PTSD and paranoia, Suiren avoids people like the plague and stops waterbending, considering water to be a traitor since it didn't help her save herself and Midori, and instead learns bloodbending so she isn't completely helpless. And Kuvira, who keeps fretting over her, might just be the perfect test subject...

MoA Sacrifice AU – Somehow, even worse than the previous one. As the title suggests, a mix of Sacrifice AU and Mud of Adversity. Instead of Nazra killing Haya, things carry on as normal for a few more years until the night of the sacrifice. Nazra uses her combustionbending to try saving Suiren, but fails and all it results in is the townspeople deciding to sell her to a general looking for unique benders for his army. Suiren and Midori are saved by Kuvira and taken to Zaofu, while Nazra meets the same fate as her mother, being tattooed and forced to be a weapon against her will. Eventually, she is found and saved, but is so traumatised and scared of hurting people (her tattoo was done in a way that made her light chakra overactive, she literally cannot supress her combustionbending unless she's on qi blockers) that she can't stay in Zaofu and is sent to a sanctuary in the mountains to recover, where she meets and bonds with Tsomo. Meanwhile, rumours of a combustionbender spread and reach the Red Lotus, who are currently in hiding. Ghazan goes to investigate, is told by Haya about the failed sacrifice, comes across Bolin who by that point has made friends with Midori, and the reunion between the RL and their kids happens sooner than in normal SotRL. Still not too clear on where it goes from there

Avatar Suiren AU – Aang dies two years earlier and Suiren is born as the Avatar instead of Korra. The Red Lotus fundamentally believe that the Avatar shouldn't exist, and that belief was passed on to Suiren before they found out what she was. Suiren hates being the Avatar, both because she sees her parents constantly worrying about her being discovered and taken away, and because she, similar to Yangchen, is rather sensitive to memories of her past lives and it's very, very overwhelming for her. She often gets nightmares about traumatic things previous Avatars went though and.wakes up screaming names long forgotten by history, but that also allows her easier communication with them, so she's never quite alone. She remembers all the pain, all the efforts to fix the world that were ultimately useless, knows how it feels like to have your entire world upended as a child, and decides early on that she will not let this continue. The world cannot keep relying on one being to save them, and so she shall be the Last Avatar. She grows up, trains, at one point crosses paths with Kuvira in Zaofu who finds out her secret and becomes extremely devoted to her, and during Harmonic Convergence opens both Spirit Portals and fuses with Vaatu (much to Raava's dismay). She works hard to get the world ready for the lack of an Avatar, to change and establish as many things as she can, all the while bonding with and getting attached to her spirit kites, particularly Vaatu, though she spends a lot of time talking to both, and when things are as stable as can be, she lets both of them go, ending the cycle (something that would cause unfathomable outrage were it to actually happen in the show, but tbh, even this is 100x better than whatever those new leaks promise...)

Mermaid AU – An utterly niche, self indulgent AU not connected to any other verse, born out of my lifelong love for mermaids. No bending, no Avatar, just Kuvira as the best captain in Suyin Beifong's merchant fleet (and Bataar Jr's fiancee) and Suiren as a mermaid/siren/sea monster who she meets while stranded in a seaside town. Monsterfucking ensues 😁 I'm still not quite sure where I'll take this, the fic for it that I started for MerMay 2024 is still just a oneshot, but I do have some ideas I could explore, including how Suiren's parents and Midori feature in this AU (as a tiny hint.. anyone here ever seen Barbie in a Mermaid Tale? [they say, as if they don’t have several posts on their art blog spoiling the “grand reveal”…])

BONUS IMPORTANT STORYLINES:

Northern Water Tribe shenanigans – In March 2024 I made a shitpost about Malina, Unalaq's wife, Kat saw it and things spiralled from there. It came to be that there's no love in their marriage, they have not shared a bed since the twins were conceived, and Unalaq generally has no interest in Malina because he's rather.. preoccupied (🤮) with a certain spirit kite. And what's a lonely, touch starved, severely tocophobic beautiful bisexual noble woman to do in that situation? Well, start a harem made out of her guards and handmaidens, of course!! It's.. pretty much pure filth, yes 😔 That's just what happens when you let someone raised on harem dramas (a.k.a me) anywhere near noble characters. But anyway, we have two OCs Malina is close with so far – Ila, a useless disaster lesbian for whom no other woman but Malina exists, and Alasie, an aroace and touch repulsed maid who has her boundaries respected by Malina and becomes a friend to her. Ngl, those two are low-key based on Kat and me <3 And Suiren also becomes involved in all of this in the UtOS and Avatar Suiren verses, but I shall not be sharing details of that in public

Zaheer's fucked up family – Once upon a time, Kat wrote in LaF that at age 12, Zaheer ran away from his tyrant father, classist mother and two sisters, whom he didn’t have the best relationship with. One summer evening, I took that and ran with it. Semi-brief summary: Jusamah – Zaheer's father, angry, violent, barely tolerates his wife and kids, cares only for his fortune and continuing the family line, can, will and has severely punished and executed people for perceived transgressions; Sunat – Zaheer's mother, meek, anxious, secretly nearsighted, loves her children and would do anything to ensure their safety, but doesn't allow herself to show affection, focuses on social climbing to secure good matches for her daughters; Summiya – the eldest, perfect in every way down to the uncanny symmetry of her face. Married to Himman, the only son of an influential family who's rumoured to be a drunk and a brothel goer. Her two children, Liba and Abyan, were both born with visible birthmarks, thus not as perfect as her, and her perfectionism and constant criticism make Abyan resent her and Liba hate herself. As young teens, the two run away, leaving Summiya's life crumbling around her. Her kids are gone, her husband is a cheater, she's not perfect anymore, so she loses it and turns to sexual masochism to feel at least something. Her infidelity is discovered, she runs away, makes friends with a group of girls working at a local brothel (a few of whom are her husband's mistresses), heals, finds freedom in sex work, eventually reconnects with her sister, kids, mother and, many years later, Zaheer; Aiza/Emran – middle child, always failed to live up to both Summiya and Zaheer, scored a less than ideal match and couldn't stand the thought of marrying someone she had never met (my fic nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter goes into this in great detail), so disguised herself as a boy named Emran and ran away with the help of her maid. Ends up at an Air Temple, joins the acolytes, has a gender epiphany and now goes by both names, uses she/he/they pronouns, and is a genderfluid, pansexual, polyamorous ICON. Many years later, his niece and nephew arrive at the same temple and he takes them under his wing. Has many lovers all over the world, including the maid who helped them, Jia (who was tortured for information by Jusamah after Aiza left 😬) and after reuniting with Zaheer, Ghazan :D. Gains airbending after Harmonic Convergence. Over the last few months Kat and I have basically frothed at the mouth at any even slight mention of this family, and it's hard to tell why from a summary, but generational conflicts like this are fascinating so we intend to keep going with this until we literally can't anymore

Brothel girls – Summiya's friends!! Featuring: Shezan – bisexual, struggles with chronic pain, comes from a big family, loves her work but would rather do it independently; Roheen – lesbian, wanted to become a lawyer but didn't get into school despite her smarts, dislikes her job and wants to leave to pursue law school again; Gulalai – bisexual, has an identical twin sister she failed to compare to, in a relationship with Roheen, enjoys her work well enough but would leave if Roheen left; Phailin – asexual, half Fire Nation, erotic dancer who goes further for a higher price, loves dancing and having eyes on herself and dreams of returning to her ancestral homeland, the Fire Nation islands; Daneli – lesbian, youngest girl there, turned to brothel work when her dad (single father) got sick, has crushes on Shezan and Qader, doesn't enjoy her job much and will leave as soon as she can, ends up adopting the daughter of one of the other brothel girls, whom she names Kumisai (who, as a teenager, will be in a relationship with Jinora and friends with Kai); and Qader – some flavour of mspec, was bullied growing up for not being feminine enough so went full butch to spite them, picked her name herself, the most domineering at the brothel, likes her work and will keep at it regardless of circumstances, makes Kat's brain short-circuit 🤭. Honourable mention – Mekhali, non-binary, independent sex worker with an undecided dark past, Summiya's first friend who housed her after she ran away, introduced her to the girls and helped both her and Shezan start working independently too (no posted art or fics of these guys exist yet, but Kat and I have an extensive series of incorrect quotes posts featuring them)

Sweet baby Ehuang – We've had the headcanon for a while that Midori and Opal would work with kids a lot in the future, and as a result would adopt a bunch (no names, appearances or concrete backstories yet, but they adopted a boy who was born in 173 AG, a girl who was born in 175 AG, and one who'll end up nonbinary who was born in 181 AG), but after a while Midori decides that she wants to have a biological child as well. With one of Opal's brothers helping out as a sperm donor, Midori conceives and nine months later, in 186 AG, gives birth to a girl they name Ehuang (her name comes from the same legend as Ming-Hua's mom's name, Nuying, so it's all very symbolic). Ehuang grows up to be a wild and carefree child, beloved by her entire family – her moms, siblings, grandparents, uncles on Opal's side, Auntie Renny and Auntie 'Vira (Suiren and Kuvira, in case that wasn't obvious), etc etc. She's an earthbender on the road to becoming a lavabender, takes after great grandma Toph in her refusal to wear shoes, has a rock collection, and is literally the manifestation of everything good and pure in this world. We don't have much of a storyline for her yet, but that will hopefully change at some point since I already have a few ideas

EXTRA OC INFODUMPS AND RELEVANT POSTS:

Brief summaries of Haya, Summiya, Aiza, Ehuang, and Ila & Alasie

Meifeng, Ming-Hua’s cousin

Nonbinary OCs (incomplete list)

Eldest daughters

And, as one final piece of information, the SotRL-verse family tree:

Last updated: DECEMBER 20TH 2024

[red-dyed-sarumane]

rime anon is probably a severely underrated slept on duo i should change that

[imageingrunge]

I wish DATV had been good for me so can move on from the series, bc I got this new computer w 2Tb of space n have Skyrim, tw3, and Red dead on there… and my first thought playing any of those other games was man... take me back to denerim when it was five wooden shacks stapled together with 2009 graphics

[a-drama-addict]

Finally made the Chloe ref sheet I've been thinking about for a year

[seafoam-taide]

i have so many images and concepts in me. and. they wont. come out

[eastofedean]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)