#i love this one very proud of how it came out

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 2: Athletics Run in the Family

“Hey dad! Ready for that workout? I think this football jersey is getting a bit tight. Might need a new one later.” Kyle boomed as he bounded across the hall. The sound loud enough to cause his dad, Bill to jump!

“Oh uh… yeah sure Kyle. Maybe we skip the workout today. We could go shopping and get you new clothes.” Bill offered, gulping as he walked over to his towering son.

“Haha! Very funny dad. I know how you always said that every workout skipped, is a day wasted. I finally get it now! I just beat my PR for bench presses last week! Pretty sure I could do it again this week too if we keep at it! Now let’s go!” Kyle smiled and carried his dad to the car.

Bill sighed. Kyle wasn’t wrong. Before the great shift Bill was a retired amateur athlete. He never could quite go pro, but his passion for working out and fitness was always there. It was something he tried to inspire in his son Kyle, but it never took. Kyle was always more artsy. More sensitive. Less in the physical space and more in the mental. Bill didn’t even care that his son was interested in men, only that he tried some kind of athletic activity. Even as he was making his way through college Bill held on to hope that Kyle would find some athletic spark in his son. Something for them to bond over, but it never came… despite how many times he tried to force sports on to Kyle.

It turns out he should’ve been careful what he wished for. After the great shift, Kyle had landed into the body of a professional athlete, Dallas Turner. Now his one shrimpy son was a 6’5, 250lb titan of athleticism.  Suddenly, Kyle finally understood what his dad was talking about. Running around, lifting weights, hell even playing football. Kyle was in love! The consistent amount of fitness planning that Kyle had done in the 1 year since the great shift was more than he’d ever done in his entire life! And the results had shown! Kyle had gained over 10lbs of muscle since he’d got that body!

NFL scouts had even come around and asked him if he’d consider joining the league after he finished college! After all, a majority of former athletes were now in much smaller bodies that couldn’t play anymore. Kyle was considered a top prospect!

Meanwhile Bill was experiencing the opposite end. Where as Kyle had gotten huge from the shift, Bill was on the smaller end. Previously Bill was a proud 6’3, and now as a modest 5’0 he was seeing the world from a whole new perspective. Not only had he gotten significantly younger, now around the same age as his son, but he was not blessed with the same athletic disposition. Somehow most of his body was much smaller everywhere, but he maintained a bit of pudge around the belly, almost like a reminder of the beer belly he had once before. Only now smooth with no hair. 

Needless to say, it was clear that Bill’s new body was not built for physical activity. That didn’t stop Kyle from dragging his dad to every possible gym that was open post shift. Kyle loved testing the limits of his new strength. At first, Bill liked it too. Helping Kyle reach his physical potential is what he’d been waiting for ever since he had a son. However, the longer they worked out, the more tired Bill became. Not only from the actual exercise, but also from discovering his new sexuality at the gym with all the hot guys in the area.

Bill had gone from a sternly athletic father, to a nervous gay nerd quite quickly. His behavior became more shy and reserved. He began to understand more and more why Kyle liked things like music, art, and games compared to football. Most importantly he even understood why Kyle could never focus around his athletic peers. Every time Bill and Kyle went to the gym, Bill would get distracted after a new hunk began their workout! Kyle was too, but more so happy to show off his incredible new bod!

These thoughts raced through Bill’s mind as Kyle drove them to the gym! Bill could only hope that his secret crush was there. The handsome bearded bodybuilder was a large Arab man who was some sort of janitor in his previous life. Now this guy was second only to Kyle in the gym the more he worked out and showed of his manly body. Bill had already rubbed one out in the gym locker room thinking of him.

By the time they arrived Kyle got to working out as Bill went to refill their water bottles. Then as he joined the gym floor he was stunned to see Kyle talking to the big bearded gym crush!

“Hey dad! This is Amir! I said he could workout with us. It’ll be nice lifting with another huge guy who could keep up with my lifts. Maybe if I play my cards right with him I could invite him over for dinner.” Kyle gave his dad a confident wink.

“W-what?! I mean. Are you sure? You just met him and-” Bill sputtered as the large man came over and shook his hand. The young father was mortified. The guy he’d been obsessed with at the gym. Here? Now!? Talking to Kyle!?

Amir didn’t seem very interested talking to Bill. His banter was mostly with Kyle as they worked out. The two of them matching their routines and flexing at one another. Bill was practically seething with jealousy as Kyle and Amir tossed their sweaty workout towels at him. They were so lost in their workout and getting to know one another they'd completely forgotten about Bill.

“Hey it’s pretty nice of you to bring your little brother to workout.” Amir smiled as he spotted Kyle.

“Oh that’s my dad. He taught me everything I know about working out.” Kyle corrected, as Bill blushed.

“That so? I’ll have to thank him, because he sure made a handsome son. I hope he won’t mind seeing more of me. Especially if I’m gonna be seeing more of you.” Amir arched an eyebrow and smirked.

Bill’s hands were over his face. His son was gonna start dating his gym crush. It couldn’t get more awkward than this!

[cottonbopp]

It's all that you can do.

Links to each piece: Keep Moving Forward. Slightly sappy yap about how much i love tfftt under the cut you've been warned

TFFTT has been really special to me since the moment it came out ... at the time, I wasn't doing the greatest mentally, but combined with something else that happened on the day of its release, it's one of the days I can look back on fondest from that period of time !!! I distinctly remember doing nothing but replaying the MV for an hour straight, noticing every detail i could ... Over time, I've done nothing but appreciate this song even more !! It's inspired me so, so much, and I genuinely couldn't be grateful enough for its existence hehe Part of why I decided to draw these was cause I revisited the song again recently, and reminded myself of why I love it. It still resonates with me a lot, especially when I look back on my past self. I feel like I CAN look forward to the future, at least a little bit. If you actually read all this I very much appreciate it hklsjfdg i just really needed to express how special this 3 minute 45 second mp3 is to me ... :) !!!! Oh yeah also some of the backgrounds which i'm pretty proud of !! ((No bg for Blue cause i refused to turn off my rendering and it also looked pretty bad w/o it shdfklg

Okay buh bye tell someone you appreciate them today !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Imagine Yandere Sonic with a reader who’s very motherly towards Tails :3 because even though he’s a Yandere that’s still his little guy !! He raised him !! And now his love wants to help !!

A/n: this took a while

Yandere sonic x reader motherly towards tails

You didn’t expect to find yourself so attached to a little fox with two tails, but Miles (tails as Sonic and pretty much everyone else called him) had wormed his way into your heart.

From the moment you met him, you saw the brilliant kid who was so eager to impress his older brother. Sonic had told you plenty about Tails, practically beaming whenever he talked about the little fox’s inventions or plans that saved the whole team numerous times. Seeing Sonic so proud of someone was endearing, but meeting Tails for yourself had sealed the deal.

Tails was a sweetheart, and you adored him almost immediately.

The first time you saw him, he had been tinkering with one of his many gadgets in his workshop. His fur was messy, and he had goggles that sat crooked on his head.

"You're Tails, right?" you had asked, kneeling down to his height. "Sonic’s told me so much about you."

His ears perked up. "What'd he say?"

"He said you’re the smartest, most resourceful guy he knows. I mean, I’m looking at all this" you gestured to the various gadgets scattered around. "and I’m already impressed."

From that moment, you’d made it your mission to look out for him. Sure, Sonic was protective of Tails, but you couldn’t help wanting to mother the poor fox. He was still a kid, after all, and while he had Sonic to guide him, you felt that he needed someone to dote on him, to remind him to take breaks and eat properly when he got too caught up in his work.

Sonic noticed your attachment to Tails almost immediately, and it struck a chord deep within him.

You loved Tails.

His Tails.

Watching the two of you interact pulled on his heart strings.

In Sonic’s mind, this was perfect. You didn’t just care about him, you cared about the person he cared about most. It solidified the idea that you were meant to be part of his little "family." After all, you didn’t just love him, you loved both of them.

But that also came with complications.

While Sonic was thrilled that you cared for Tails, it also ignited a possessive streak in him that was hard to control. He had always been protective of Tails, almost to a fault, and seeing you step into that role stirred something in him.

On the surface, he was supportive, even encouraging you to spend time with Tails. But underneath, his obsession simmered.

What if Tails started to love you more than he loved Sonic? What if you started to love Tails more than you loved him?

The thought made him feel sick, and he hated himself for it. Tails was his little guy, he practically raised him, taught him everything he knew. But you were his, and sometimes, Sonic couldn’t shake the feeling that Tails was stealing bits and pieces of your attention that belonged to him.

Still, he kept those thoughts buried deep. For the most part, he let you mother Tails, but not without inserting himself at every opportunity.

One afternoon, you had brought Tails a basket of sandwiches and snacks, knowing he’d probably been up in his workshop for hours without eating. Sonic had tagged along, of course, watching from a distance as you fussed over the young fox.

"Tails, you’ve got to eat something," you said, placing the basket on the workbench. "You can’t run on fumes."

Tails looked up from his latest project, blinking in surprise. "Oh, I guess I forgot, my bad..."

You gave him a gentle smile and pushed the basket toward him. "That’s what I’m here for. Now, take a break, okay? Your inventions can wait a few minutes."

Sonic leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. His heart swelled at how caring you were, but there was a fleeting flicker of jealousy he couldn’t ignore.

When Tails finally relented and started eating, you ruffled his fur affectionately. "Good. See? Doesn't that feel better?"

Sonic's chest tightened. That should be me, he thought. I should be the one getting all their attention.

But instead of saying anything, he strolled into the workshop, putting on his usual confident grin.

"Hey, little buddy! Whatcha working on?" he asked, his tone light but his gaze flickering to you briefly.

Tails perked up. "Oh, trying to find a more efficient wnergy source for one of my planes!"

"Sweet! You’re gonna be flying circles around everyone." Sonic gave Tails a thumbs up, ruffling his head.

As the weeks went by, your bond with Tails only grew stronger, and so did Sonic’s obsession. He started orchestrating ways to keep you closer, using Tails as an excuse whenever he could.

"Hey, Tails is working on something dangerous. You should come keep an eye on him," hed say, even if Tails was just fixing something harmless.

Or, "Tails could use some help organizing his workshop. You’re so good at that stuff."

It wasn’t always subtle, but you didn’t question it. You were happy to help, and Sonic was happy to have you around.

Still, his possessiveness began to show in little ways. He would hover whenever you were with Tails, always inserting himself into conversations or finding excuses to touch you, a hand on your shoulder, an arm slung around your waist. If Tails noticed, he didn’t say anything, but you couldn’t ignore the way Sonic’s grip tightened whenever you paid more attention to Tails than to him.

One evening, after you had spent the entire day helping Tails with a new project, Sonic finally snapped.

"Y'know" he said casually as the two of you walked home "you're pretty good with Tails. Almost too good."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the edge in his voice. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Sonic stopped walking and turned to face you, his usual playful demeanor replaced entirely.

"I mean, you spend a lot of time with him," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Not that I’m complaining, but... don’t forget about me, okay?"

You blinked, taken aback. "Sonic, I could never forget about you. You know that."

He stepped closer. "Do I? Sometimes it feels like you’re more interested in Tails than in me."

"That's not true," you said firmly. "I care about both of you."

"But you care about me more, right?"

"Right..?"

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕙𝕠 ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣 - ℂ𝕙. 𝕏𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕊𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you to @kavalyera for the beta read!

Summary: Vincent and Chidi withdraw to a more private winter home to escape the bustle of the High Table for a while. And it's helping - Vincent is getting better. ...But does that mean he won't need Chidi by his side anymore?

TW: mention of drug addiction, lots of angst

The master of the Gramont house set out again, leaving Il Palazzo as vacant as he had left Versailles. Where there was no conquering to be done, he and Chidi could never linger. Onward they went, chasing the frontier. Fittingly, the United States came first. New York. Dallas. Later, Osaka. Casablanca. Chidi watched these cities pass in front of him with mild curiosity. They interested him primarily for the power Vincent held over them. He traced the lines of Vincent’s network with his own footsteps, his own jet trails, and saw firsthand how power ensnared the whole globe. There was nowhere where anyone could possibly escape from the Marquis, and nowhere where the Marquis could escape his constant work. Christmas had come and gone by the time the alliance with Gianna had reached enough stability to give him a moment’s rest.

“À ce rythme-là, ils vont encore me mettre à terre. [They’ll run me into the fucking ground again at this rate,]” Vincent said, in a Beijing hotel, severely jet lagged. He lay prone, his face half buried in a pillow. It was the kind of night on which he was liable to whine about wanting a hit, and if Chidi wasn’t careful, he’d get one.

How many days had it been since the last slip-up? Eleven? That was a new streak. Chidi closed the curtains against the city lights and pulled his Marquis’ head into his lap. “Je suis fier de toi. Ils ne vous ont pas encore mis à terre, et je ne les laisserai pas. Que pouvons-nous faire ? [I’m proud of you. They haven’t run you into the ground yet, and I won’t let them. What can we do?]” Can I kill someone about it?

Vincent made a small, unhappy sound and blinked up at him cheerlessly. “…Je pense que j’aimerais devenir complètement inaccessible cet hiver. Disparaître de tout le monde. […I think I’d like to become completely unreachable this winter. Just disappear away from everyone.]” Very softly, “Sauf toi. [Except you.]”

“"Je ne voudrais rien de mieux, monsieur. [I’d like nothing better, sir,]” said Chidi, playing with his hair. “Où pouvons-nous nous retrouver enneigés ensemble ? [Where can we get snowed in together?]”

In the northern part of France, near Calais, the Gramont family kept a summer home (which Chidi quickly understood to mean a small castle dating back to the 16th century). Àlderic had barely set foot there, Vincent explained, but the young Comte had enjoyed a lovely few months there once when his father grew tired of him. “Il m'a plutôt envoyé déranger les tuteurs pendant un été. [He sent me away to bother the tutors for a summer instead],” said Vincent, and laughed in a way that tore Chidi’s heart open without noticing anything unusual about it. “Mais la plaisanterie était contre lui, car c’était le meilleur été de ma vie. Beaucoup de temps pour lire et pratiquer le piano, et courir autour du lac pour me lier d’amitié avec la sauvagine locale, au grand dam de ma nounou. [But the joke was on him, because it was the best summer of my life. Plenty of time to read and practice piano, and run around the lake making friends with the local waterfowl, much to my nanny’s chagrin.]”

Chidi smiled, picturing it easily. “Cela semble parfait. Même si vous aurez de la compagnie cette fois-ci. [It sounds perfect. Though you will have some company this time.]”

“…Je vais. […I will.]”

Chidi liked ”Château de la Lune” just fine. To the south, it overlooked a lake where he might go walking or riding anytime, and to the north, a vast forest of hunting grounds. It was a patchwork of eras, renovated several times and partially rebuilt in the wake of an 1850s fire, but retaining its old gothic grandeur in its west wing. Thanks to that eclecticism, it didn’t strike him as such as frighteningly rigid place as Versailles, nor even as curated as Il Palazzo. It simply was what it was – unique and historied and extremely comfortable.

Besides, he liked any place where Vincent was to be found, and where there was hardy work to be done. His friendships with Vincent’s attendants and secretaries and his own favorite trainees among the guards had grown into something dependable. He spent his days making sure that everything ran smoothly with all of them. But Vincent remained the one and only person who understood him not just in part, but in full. The Marquis was the only person who could motivate him not just to take general pride in his work, but to go into a kind of adrenaline-fueled frenzy over something as simple as making sure Vincent got the exact kind of crème brûlée that he wanted for dessert. To say that Chidi enjoyed this work would have been a vast understatement.

They were so perfectly settled. And Vincent had never struck him as a settled sort of person. Chidi waited for the restlessness, for the explosion. But instead, something heartier was unfurling in the evenings when Vincent sat playing him sonatas or dancing with him or joining him for an evening walk. The Marquis talked more. He made jokes. And when he went quiet, it was with calm, private reflection, not with emotional shutdown.

A reflection that Chidi couldn’t enter into.

He went quiet like this more and more often as the days turned to late February and the dismal cold started to wear on Chidi’s nerves. He had to be thinking about something, but wouldn’t say what. The Marquis had started to work alone in his study, to dismiss Chidi outright from time to time. But no matter how many times Chidi asked if he was okay (which provoked Vincent into irritation more than once), the answer was always the same – yes, he was perfectly content. And he could meet Chidi’s eyes when he said it. His voice no longer shook with concealed pain. He really was okay, and upon that realization, Chidi’s fear shifted.

He was watching Vincent pull away from him with newfound independence, he realized. He tried to be happy for him, and he was, sometimes so happy he could hardly contain the heartbreaking joy. But at the same time, it made him feel physically sick, adrift. Me, as Vincent's protector... What a joke. It's him who has protected me from purposelessness all these years, Chidi thought. First Vincent had been a daydream that he’d hoped for as a child, then the man he met and pined after, and then the lover he served. But this was the tragedy of his situation: that if he ever succeeded in healing the man he loved, what would be the need for him? Only then did he understand how much he needed Vincent.

Once, when Chidi could no longer contain himself, he asked, “Mon amour, tu penses que les choses changent entre nous ? [My love, do you think things are changing between us?]”

Vincent simply said, “Oui,” and smiled maddeningly. Chidi walked out that night into the forest. He walked until many layers of barren branches had hidden the lights of the castle windows, and the reflected glow of yesterday’s snowfall sparkled as the only, unearthly light under the stars. Then he screamed himself hoarse.

The worst part was that he couldn’t even blame Vincent. His favor had always been a fortunate and perhaps temporary blessing. He was the wildest person Chidi knew, and he loved him for that. To restrain him…it wasn’t worth seeing him trapped in yet another gilded cage.

So when Vincent announced that he planned to spend a few days without him in Paris, Chidi felt the ground drop out from under him. He had no real reason not to trust Vincent to go on his own. He couldn’t say no, even knowing that the reason could well be an affair or just…time away. Time enough to contemplate a permanent severance between them. The best he could manage was, “Je préférerais de loin vous accompagner, maître, pour votre sécurité. Es-tu sûr? [I would greatly prefer to go with you, master, for your safety. Are you sure?]” And Vincent said he was sure.

He kept in constant contact with the guards who did follow the Marquis. His fear, he told himself, was all for Vincent. A protective rage just like every other. But it didn’t abate when they told him that all was well. “He’s in the best spirits we’ve ever seen,” wrote his second-in-command. “Practically skipping. And no, not from intoxicants.” Chidi looked down to find that he’d shattered the glass tumbler he was holding.

Another text shattered him on the second night of Vincent’s trip, this time from Vincent himself. “Je rentre demain matin, tôt. Retrouve-moi au bord du lac à 7 heures. J'ai quelque chose à te dire. Habillez-vous bien – c’est important. [I am coming home tomorrow morning, early. Meet me by the lake at 7. I have something to say to you. Dress well – it’s important.]”

Chidi shut his phone and let his chest shudder with silent tears for five whole minutes before he could bring himself to answer. “Oui, monsieur.” And then his chest fully caved in, and for the rest of the night, he was, whether loudly or silently, inconsolable.

So it was with finality, with resignation, that he donned his grey suit for the last time, held his pin to the light till it flashed in his eyes, and stabbed twice through his lapel as he had done each and every day. One piercing on the way in, one on the way out, each one a rending deep in the fabric that left a small but irreparable hole. For your freedom, Vincent, I will tear out even Cupid’s arrow. I will do as you say.

It was the warmest morning in quite some time. There was mist over the lake, and it settled into Chidi’s skin and into his eyes, that vast damp blurring of an uncertain future. Would he at least be allowed to stay at Vincent’s side, enjoying the torturous sight of his master’s unreachable perfection? To guard the gate of a life into which he would never again be permitted? Damn it all, but he hoped for even that small pleasure. Because if he could never see him again…

But Chidi couldn’t bear to think of that after catching sight of the Marquis, picking his way over the dormant winter grass in riding boots. He must have risen hours ago and seen to his appearance somewhere on the road, in a hotel perhaps. That majesty might look unstudied, but Chidi alone knew the effort that went into it, the thought and the fretting. His own morning routine seemed like nothing to him by comparison. Vincent’s lips, pinkened by the chill of morning, kissed him softly while the dew beaded on his polished shoes and kissed his ankles with flecks of sweet cold where the grass had poked its way under his starched hems. He let himself be present in his body and hold the Marquis, their breath intermingling in air, looking out across the dawn in silence.

There, on that glassy surface turned to agate by the rising sun, a pair of swans circled. The first of the spring. “J'ai entendu dire qu'ils s'accouplent pour la vie. [I’ve heard they mate for life],” said Chidi. “Quand l’un meurt, l’autre aussi. [When one dies, so does the other.]”

“J'ai entendu dire qu'ils pouvaient tuer un dogue allemand avec leur bec nu, [I’ve heard they can kill a great dane with their bare beaks],” said Vincent, “pour être sûr que cela n'arrive pas. [to make sure that doesn’t happen.]” For a second, Chidi almost laughed, but he didn’t trust the choked sound that came out of him, and quieted it back into soberness.

He turned to his master, searching. His eyes came up against a wall of porcelain and glass and placid smiles. In his desperation, he found himself asking for the first time, “À quoi pensez-vous, monsieur ? Vous me désavantagez, et je – [What are you thinking, sir? You have me at a disadvantage, and I -]” His voice broke against that impenetrable wall. “Je sais que tu n'as plus besoin de moi. Je suis si heureux de te voir plus heureux. Je ne peux tout simplement pas supporter ce... suspense quand je sais que tu... finis-en, juste – [I know you don’t need me anymore. I’m so glad to see you happier. I just can’t take this…suspense when I know that you…just get it over with, just - ]” He narrowly prevented himself from collapsing onto Vincent’s shoulder and instead turned the other way, face hidden by his hands.

“Chidi. Non, Oh mon Dieu, je ne voulais pas dire… [Chidi. No. Oh god, I didn’t mean…]” Vincent’s arms were around him then. “C'était un plan stupide. S'il te plaît, ne pleure pas. Je n’aurais peut-être pas dû être aussi mystérieux, mais ce n’est pas comme si je voulais tout gâcher… [It was a stupid plan. Please don’t cry. I shouldn’t have been so mysterious maybe, but it’s not like I meant to ruin it…]”

“Attendez. Quoi? Détruire quoi ? Non, vous n'avez rien fait de mal. Je comprends. Tu n'es plus obligé de me vouloir, c'est juste – c'est juste dur pour moi, je suis désolé – [Wait. What? Ruin what? No, you haven’t done anything wrong. I understand. You don’t have to want me anymore I just – it’s just hard for me, I’m sorry – ]”

Vincent grabbed him by both shoulders so roughly that he was shocked out of his tears. “JE te veux! Bien sûr, je te veux. C’est exactement de cela dont il s’agit. [I DO want you! Of course I want you. That’s exactly what this is about.]”

“… Je ne pense pas savoir ce que tu dis. […I don’t think I know what you’re saying.]”

Vincent just pulled him close, and whispered, “Soyons heureux, d'accord ? C'est un moment spécial. Il y a un photographe sur la colline qui va le capturer, alors… dis-moi quand tu te sens prêt. [Let’s be happy okay? This is a special moment. There’s a photographer on the hill who’s going to capture it, so…tell me when you feel ready.]”

Chidi hastily tried to clean up his face on his sleeve, but he still wasn’t following. “D'accord. Je vais bien, je suis prêt. Mais je ne le fais vraiment pas… [Okay. I’m okay, I’m ready. But I really don’t…]”

And then he looked back to Vincent to find him on one knee.

“Oh.”

Vincent, he realized, was faintly shaking. So was he, rather more violently.

“Dios mío… [Oh my god…]”

Time went surreally slow. With the motions of a person underwater, the Marquis was pulling a small velvet box from the pocket of his overcoat. To his surprise, Vincent spoke in somewhat stilted, practiced Spanish. “Una vez me devolviste algo que pensabas que había dejado caer. Me lo devolviste cuando sentí que... como si no tuviera nada. Me encontraste en mi punto más bajo y me ayudaste incluso entonces. Eso fue más que una amabilidad. Cambiaste mi vida permanentemente con ese acto. Pero aquí está el problema: quería dejarlo. Lo intenté para que lo disfrutaras, porque quería que hubiera alguna conexión entre nosotros. Así que ahora te lo doy de nuevo. Para siempre. [You once returned to me something that you thought I had dropped. You gave it back to me when I felt like – like I had nothing. You found me at my lowest, and helped me even then. That was more than a kindness. You changed my life permanently with that act. But here’s the problem: I meant to drop it. I intended it for you to enjoy, because I wanted there to be some connection between us. So now, I’m giving it to you again. Forever.]”

There in the box: a gold ring, with a band of clear resin at its core. And embedded in that band, amongst flecks of gold leaf, were flecks of white. “El pétalo de rosa blanca. [The white rose petal.]”

Vincent nodded, unable to speak. Finally, he managed it. “¿Quieres casarte conmigo, Chidi? [Will you marry me, Chidi?]”

And again, Chidi saw that bottomless depth in his eyes. That desperate, hidden thing that had called out to him with irresistible compulsion from the first sight. Vulnerability.

And again, he answered its call. “Sí. Dios, sí. [Yes. God, yes.]”

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Image Sources: One | Two

[purinfelix]

If you are accepting requests for Haikyuu could I please request Kuroo (or Kenma) with this prompt "Are you really jealous of my cat?" Of course you don't have to but if you do take as long as needed!❤️

third wheel - kuroo tetsuro ⋆₊˚⊹♡

a/n: i can't believe i'm writing haikyuu x reader in the year of our lord and saviour 2025 .... 2020 me would be so proud HAHAHA anyways thanks for the req anon i hope u like this! (it ended up being a lot longer than i had planned but i've always loved kuroo so i couldn't help it)

The question lingers in the air for a couple seconds after leaving his mouth - partially because you're stumped for an answer, but mostly because you're ashamed at being so plainly called out.

"Wh- no?" you scoff, trying to brush it off, rolling over on his bed so that he can't see the look on your face, "Why on earth would I be jealous of him?"

As students, studying together had become a common routine for you and Kuroo, ever since you had started dating a couple months ago. With your chemistry final inching closer, he had insisted on helping you out with some private tutoring at his place - an offer that had sounded too selfless for you not to accept.

Little did you know that, in reality, it involved you spending hours upon hours of going through practice questions and only getting short breaks when your boyfriend would look over your hastily scribbled, and most incorrect, answers. And to make matters worse, your 'private session' was currently being interrupted by Kuroo's calico cat and your sworn enemy, Leo - though if there was anyone third-wheeling you were sure it was you.

To set the story straight, you had been Kuroo's first love, at least before that cat had stolen him away from you - a stray he had taken in just a little over a month ago, but had since taken over his life. Already he had rushed the both of you back to his place just to feed it, cutting whatever night out you had planned short. At first, it had been endearing, the sight of Kuroo being so gentle with an, admittedly very cute, creature - but the more time you spent around it the more you came to resent the tiny ball of fur.

You were fully aware of how immature you were being - after all, you were his girlfriend and Leo was his pet cat. This was exactly why you had stuck yourself on the edge of his bed, watching with a furrowed brow as he read over your work - spinning a pen in one hand and petting Leo's head with the other.

"C'mon, admit it, you're totally jealous!" Kuroo's teasing tone snaps you back to the present, and to the fact that he's shamelessly confronting you.

"Don't flatter that tiny thing, we all know who you'd pick first," you scoff, though you should've known that your boyfriend's observance would be able to see right through your facade. Before you can think of another defensive quip he's standing up from his desk chair, making Leo leap off his lap with a high-pitched mewl.

He throws himself down beside where you're perched on his bed, gazing up at you with an expression that's equal parts amused and endeared.

"Don't deny it," he hums, "it's a little cute."

"It's ridiculous! I am not jealous," you continue your defence as you lean back on your elbows, but can slowly feel it slipping as he wraps an arm around your waist.

"Cute," he repeats through a smile, though this time it's more to himself than anything.

"Whatever," you sigh, trying to cross your arms but he's already pulling himself up to press soft kisses along your jawline, and you can't help but break into a reluctant smile. Once he sees you give in, you can feel his own mouth curving into a smile against your skin as you run your fingers through his hair with a soft laugh.

"Though your understanding of Avogadro's law could use some work."

"Shut up."

[leadfort]

Fuck it. Bre'uhn/Brian Masterpost. Because he is my primary player character in a text basted D&D Westmarch I'm part of, and I can't believe i havent talked about him yet cause he's the one I actually PLAY the most. Currently lvl 6 psi warrior, started at level 2. Basically. His whole deal is based on the thought that he needs to kill an illithid in order to be welcomed in with his kin in Tu'narath.

Also I wanted to make a very gith looking gith lol and he has since become a lil more unique in his design, but the biggest inspiration initially was the 5:e Volo's guide to monsters image of a githyanki as well as wanting the funny lil 1:e hair style Overview: Bre’uhn is a githyanki who is haunted by extraordinarily bad luck. He wants nothing but complete his rite of passage into the Astral Plane by killing an illithid and bringing its head to his queen. Life seems to have different plans for him as something always seems to go wrong. The ship that would take him sunk. His party left without him. Adventurers has already killed the illithids he went out to get. The hunting party was stopped by an out of season blizzard. Even casually it seems like bad luck is always right around the corner. He's become extremely superstitious and afraid of things that could cause even worse luck. He adorns himself in lucky trinkets in hope that they will counteract his ‘curse’. Now he’s in his 30s, and he is growing more impatient. If he doesn’t get that illithid head soon, he’s going to die from old age.

Personality: Everything you’d expect from a githyanki. He’s impatient, stubborn, proud and blunt. Values efficiency and shows of force. He does have quite a bit of humor, though it borders on being ridicule and mockery. Wants to be logical, but acts based on emotion. Where he differs is his extremely crippling social and performance anxieties. He hates that he has these though unfortunately, him trying to force himself through them causes more flare ups.

He's also extremely expressive and everyone can read him like an open book. He.. also hates this aspect about himself but at this point he can't be arsed to stop it.

Backstory: Grew up in a creche in the Spine of the World that is pretty far up in a mountainous and a harsh cold region. It’s rather close to a small town next to Mirabar. His upbringing was pretty much standard for a githyanki, and he reflects his culture in his temperament a whole lot. While the creche and the town didn’t love each other, they weren’t outright hostile to one another, and it was not super uncommon for githyanki to sometimes show themselves in the town.

Once Bre’uhn was in his early 20s he tried to join several hunting parties in order to find and kill his first illithid to be "properly" allowed into the Astral Plane. However, something always came up or went wrong for himself specifically. He’d always had a bit of bad luck in his shadow, but this is when it really started to mess with him. In his mid 20s he started to believe that Tymora herself scorned him. He didn’t know why, but started to learn more about the istiks pantheon and religions in order to get in her good graces. He even tattooed her symbol into his ribs, a four leaf clover. Just two months after he got the tattoo, he got into a barfight. In typical githyanki fashion it soon escalated to a knife fight and he stabbed one of the other patrons. The four leaf clover was slashed in the process and Bre’uhn soon found himself in prison.

“Luckily” enough, the man he stabbed did not die, which simply meant that Bre’uhn was not sent to be executed. In hindsight, Bre’uhn maybe would have preferred this… As he then spent six years in prison. Six whole years where he was not able to search or find any illithids. His prison mates also didn’t know how to pronounce his name, thus gave him the nickname “Brian”. As an extra kicker, once he got out of prison the creche where he grew up had completely relocated. None of the townspeople knew where they all had gone (and it's not like the githyanki would've told em), but it seemed they had all just packed up and left three years ago.

Still, he’s determined to find an illithid and that takes precedence over searching for his own kin. A few years into his search, he stumbled across a fortune teller. They told him that his chance to ‘prove himself’ will come when he least expects it. Bre’uhn, fully believing the fortune teller, took this to mean that if he is actively searching for illithids, he will not find them. If he expects them, he will ‘jinx’ it, and thus they will not show themselves.

----

The game then picks up where he is ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN there is a mind flayer colony deeply imbedded in an abandoned mine outside Mirabar. He has rigged this whole cave with explosives, but as he sets up the few last barrels of smokepowder, he slips on the powder as a bright portal to Waterdeep suddenly sucks him up. ... and spits him out, crashing in the middle of the Waterdeep Market. He is quickly punched to the ground as he tries to attack people in his confusion and told about the strange rifts and portals that are opening around Faerun. And now, he is here, still on his quest to bring a single 1 (one) head to Vlaakith. Sure, there's literally a permanent opening to the Astral Sea above him all the time (thanks rifts...) But going there without his tribute is IMPROPER.

Trivia:

Oral fixation - Likes to chew on blades of grass or picks. Nibbles on his lip ring.

Very expressive face, which he doesn't like but he cant help himself.

Obsessively collects luck trinkets because you never know.

As a githyanki, he's not against murder and violence. But he started to curb his behaviour since he is afraid of going to prison again.

Since he's convinced his bad luck is the cause of a god, he is well versed in gods and religious practices. Moreso in that he's ready to fight them at this point.

Midlife crisis. Extremely afraid of growing old and he dyed a patch of his hair because he found white strands.

He got the tattooes in prison, which represents his wish to be amongst the clouds on the back of a red dragon.

Other Thoughts: Bre'uhn is aware that his 6 years spent in prison with humans, dwarves and a half-orc for company has changed the way he acts and talks quite a lot. This is cause for his anxieties since he is worried that even if he were to complete his rite of passage, the other githyanki would find him too different to let him back in. This results in him avoiding other gith at all costs because he doesn't want it confirmed... which tenfolds his anxieties when he's forced to talk to one. (And he is no stranger to panic attacks).

He scoffs in the face of zombies, owlbears, hags and black dragons and has not a single drop of fear for them. But seeing another gith from 30 feet away has his bones crumble.

Thank you for readin!

[heavenmercy]

Oh, the humanity. Please, pity me.

[bluegiragi]

konig is very good for ghost and soap in the soapbox saga finale <3

read the full comic (29 pages) on patreon!

[mimisaur5000]

can’t catch a 8r8k

closeups under the cut

[demi-pixellated]

🌻Blade Breaker II & The Rose Noble🌹 - Power Couple of New Fodlan -

I am SO EXCITED to show my full piece for Sunflower, A Leonie zine. What a beautiful book, with all it’s fantastic merch, and I’m so glad I got to be apart of it and show my fav cavalry girl all the love she deserves!! Thank you to everyone who supported the zine, but if you missed out the first time around, don’t sweat it! Sunflower is now having it’s leftover sale!! 🌻 Pick Up A Copy Here 🌻

[unnamed-proxy]

Drawing every toon currently available for a pet project, pt 3-4/22

Sprout and Cosmo!!

[seventh-district]

“Why’s he call you Darlin’?”

on my knees begging my brain to stop trying to associate this song with Sam

[hellpuppy666]

POV your friend invites you over to play bloodborne (full version here)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

WWWOOOPS FORGOT I MADE THIS. drew this back at around when the hyperbolic time chamber training arc was just starting. remember that? huh? remember the hamspter??? ohhhhhhhh youll remember the haspter!!!! oh my god yknow what else i remember. williams overwhelming love for christmas. oh my god. spooky zombie boy loves the christmas.. literally the best possible thing for him...

[coconut530]

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️Pride, 2024🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

Lesbian flag colors taken from the flag made by Emily Gwen

[rhys-ravenfeather]

Listen, sometimes in life you’ve just gotta ignore canon, and even certain headcanons/AUs you don’t like or agree with and come up with your own/a version of the thing you like. As a form of self-care. This is a moral I live by, I think anyone who knows me knows at this point.

But for all that is good and decent in the world, you still absolutely need to be respectful towards others, even if what they made does not gel with you, personally. Especially if they’re the original creator(s) of the original, canon work.