#i need to put them both in a blender i love them so much

[mellohiizz]

Kitty subzam from my phone! :D

KADE!!!!! I'M SHAKINS YOU AROUND LIKE A PLUSH TOY YOUUU! thank you, i love them so so much im on the floor crying currently

[orphiicheartd]

They’re flirttinnngg

[kacchanrawr]

I love haikaveh so much the way they understand each other the best but also the worst drives me insane.

On one hand they're both so proud with their "you don't know him like I do", and they both bring out sides in each other that no one else sees. They can see through and call out each other's bullshit. They know each other inside out, familiar with their habits and being able to predict their actions.

But on the other hand, they're polar opposites and can never see things the way the other does, even if they understand it. Which makes them so bad at communicating like have you seen these fuckers just straight up express that they care for each other? Kaveh and his "it's complicated" relationship status, Alhaitham and his notes in a language only they can understand saying shit like this instead of just saying he cares for him

I need to bang their heads together. They should communicate then make out idk

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 8)

Masterpost

The next day was less chaotic but not by much. They had to go through everything they’d taken from the Fenton’s lab, and reluctantly accepted Danny and Jazz’s help with the task because they were familiar with the tech. That was surprisingly needed since all of their gadgets were extremely obtuse and looked like household appliances. It was honestly surprising how good Danny was with all of this stuff, he knew what everything was, how to take it apart and how to put it back together to show the heroes how it worked. 

“They don’t all work for humans. Some have to be fueled with ectoplasm so they need to be constantly refueled. Dad used to wear a backpack full of the stuff ghost busters style but that’s really not practical so this one isn’t very useful to you. I can use it though,” Danny said as he screwed the last part back on the.. Whatever it was. 

“Okay, but why does it look like a blender?” Tim asked, baffled and impressed.

“Oh that’s because that’s what it was built out of,” Danny said with a crooked smile. “We repurposed a lot of household items into tech. Give me a couple toasters and a microwave and I’ll have three specter deflectors ready for you before dinner time.” He said as he pressed his hand against one of the gins and it started glowing intently green.

“Here don’t drop it,” He said tossing it to Batman, who did manage to catch it. “I fueled it with three shots, just in case Vlad shows up or another ghosts threatens you. And actually even with your charms I would feel a lot better if you all had specter deflectors since you’re all involved with me now,” He sighed and rubbed his face. 

“Well… we can get you toasters and a microwave but we can also get you more advanced parts if those will work better,” Bruce told Danny, gingerly holding the odd gun away from himself. It wasn’t a traditional gun so it wasn’t upsetting but he still didn’t like it. 

Danny looked very tempted but he shook his head. “No I’d better do it with what I know, I can get it done faster that way and they work. I’d love to play with some of those more advanced parts though. I’m sure I can come with some fun stuff.” 

Uh oh, Bruce didn’t like that look on Tim’s face, the last thing he needed was more encouragement! But Danny was the child of mad scientists, he would get along perfectly with Tim, Bruce was going to have to keep a close eye on them to make sure they didn’t accidentally make a death ray. 

“You can join me in my lab later,” Tim offered hopefully and Danny glanced up at him with a borderline feral grin. 

“That sounds great, I’m sure you have much better lab safety than my parents. Love engineering, would hate to die a second time.” He said it like a joke, just the way Jason tended to. Jazz laughed, but only to encourage her brother’s coping method, no one else did. 

“Alright, we’ll go to the nearest home appliance store and get you some toasters and microwaves,” Bruce said. 

“Hell ya, I should have been adopted by a rich family years ago,” Danny cackled. Oh dear, he’d been so traumatized yesterday Bruce hadn’t realized he was Feral. Why did this keep happening.

He informed Alfred of Danny’s request and by the time they finished going over the more confusing inventions and left for lunch the appliances were waiting for Danny in the lab that he and Tim would apparently now be sharing. Danny immediately dove on the machinery starting to take them apart with practiced hands. He seemed calm and in his element but Tim stayed to supervise, both just in case something went wrong, and because it was His lab and they hadn’t talked about rules of cohabitation yet.

Bruce left them to it. Alfred had informed him that Jason had arrived and headed straight to the kitchen without saying hello to anyone else. It wasn’t a surprise, he was closest to Alfred, he’s want to help with making dinner, and get the basic scoop from his most trusted family member before having to face anyone else. Bruce knew better than to intrude on that, but God did he want to. 

Regardless of what his children thought Bruce cared deeply for all of them, and he hated that sometimes they doubted it. He wished he was better at telling and showing them, but he’d managed to convince himself it was too late for him to change so he didn’t have to face the years of mistakes and trauma he had endured and inflicted. No matter what what image he tried to project, he was still only human.

He went to his office, but he couldn’t settle to anything, he did a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and just ended up pacing the carpeted floor. He left them alone as long as he could before he gave in and went down to the kitchen.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just needed a cup of coffee,” He said as casually as he could. The looks Alfred and Jason gave him said neither of them actually believed his excuse, which was fair. “It’s good to see you Jaylad, thanks for coming.”

“Well I’m not going to miss out on a new brother am I? You gonna have this one running around in spandex too B?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, it made Bruce wince but it Was progress because he was acknowledging their familial ties. 

“I’m almost two years too late to stop him,” Bruce said regretfully. “It’s been… a lot has happened. I’m sure Alfred caught you up on most of it, but I’d like to talk to you before you meet either of the siblings.”

“Trying to make sure I won’t be a bad influence?” Jason asked and Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or accusing. 

“No, nothing like that,” Bruce said, holding up his hands. “I just want to talk.”

Jason hummed skeptically, scrutinizing Bruce before turning back towards Alfred. “What do you think Alfie, can you spare me?”

“I always appreciate your help master Jason, but I can manage on my own,” Alfred assured, sounding amused. 

“Alright, to your office then?” Jason asked, turning back towards Bruce. 

“Or the sitting room, whichever would be more comfortable.”

“Office,” Jason said firmly, this was the distance that he was keeping between them. They worked together now, and Jason cared for his siblings, but he kept them all at arms length. For everyone’s safety really, if they set him off he didn’t want to hurt them, and he didn’t want to be set off either. It always felt like shit. Jason followed Bruce to the office and sprawled in the soft chair across the desk from Bruce’s. He remembered being a kid, sitting properly and nervously in this chair across from Bruce hoping desperately for his approval. How times change.

“I just wanted to talk to you about the new kids” Bruce started and Jason waved him away.

“I’m really not going to corrupt them or anything, I Probably won’t be around enough to make a difference anyway.” Jason said dismissively.

Bruce took a deep breath, controlling his expression and folding his hands on the table. “That’s not it Jaylad, Alfred must have told you that the boy died and came back?” 

Jason tensed and green swirled in his vision, it was the same thing that Bruce had seen in Danny when Zatana asked about Phantom. “Ya he did.” Defensive and insecure.

“It seems like he, and his sister who was sort of a caretaker to him, know a lot more than we do about the effect that that has on a person. To help us take care of Danny she gave us a presentation about it, it… makes a lot of sense. You should probably talk to her and Danny about it really but I just wanted to apologize. 

“I’ve been trying to fix this, fix… you for a long time and I know I’ve been going about it wrong and I’ve been hurting you.”

“You got a new treatment plan in mind, old man?” Jason asked, his arms crossed and Bruce wished that mistrust wasn’t earned. 

“No,” Bruce sighed looking down. “Really Jason I don’t, I know I was wrong. This is something I just didn’t know I didn’t know about,” He hated his own ignorance, he hated to admit it! He was Batman! The way he kept up with other superheroes was always being prepared for everything and knowing more than everyone around him, but he hadn’t even known there was something there to know!

“This isn’t about that, and it’s not about you staying away from the new kids. Exactly the opposite actually, since they know more about this, and Danny might be one of the few people who really understands what it’s like to die and come back like that, I was hoping you’d spend more time here, around them. I think it might help you both.”

“Huh,” Jason sounded, blinking rapidly because that was the most sincere apology he’d gotten from Bruce and he didn’t quite know how to react to it. “Maybe… maybe.” He hadn’t met the new siblings yet after all, maybe they’d hate each other. 

“Can I meet them now?” He asked looking back up at Bruce curiously. 

“Of course, the girl's name is Jasmine Fenton, called Jazz, the boy goes by Danny. Jazz is turning 18 soon, Danny is 16.” 

Right Tim had mentioned that, so Danny was about 3 years younger than him then. That shouldn’t matter too much, and maybe Tim will be right about the sister and can tease Jason about it. He’d been single for a while and wouldn’t mind changing that.

“Of course, I think you should meet Jazz first, she’s protective of Danny and she hasn’t been very involved in all of this. I think she’d feel better being allowed to… vet you first for lack of a better word. Are you okay with that?” Bruce asked Jason politely. 

“Sure, I don’t really care what order I meet them in and… Look Bruce I know I’m mad at you, and I was really hard on Timmy when everything was still raw. But I’m never going to knowingly hurt a kid, or make life harder for them. If I can help them I will,” Jason said sincerely. 

“Jason, the girl is less than a year younger than you. You’re a kid too,” Bruce said sadly. Jason froze for a moment, Yes he was 19, his mind wasn’t fully developed yet or whatever the hell, but he hadn’t felt like a kid since his death. Even before that, the responsibility for his mother, and then the work as a hero. Bruce wanted soldiers, Jason had never gotten a chance to be a kid really.

“Whatever,” Jason scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and standing up, closing himself off from that sincerity. “Do you know where she is?”

“She’s in the library,” Bruce said, his lips twitching up in a smile. “She loves books almost as much as you did, though she seems to be more drawn to non-fiction.” 

Jason hummed and nodded, heading towards the door since he knew his own damn way to the library, Bruce didn’t have to lead! He did follow through, he was clearly protective of these kids so of course he would want to be there when Jason met them.

When he entered the library he saw a young woman sitting at one of the tables with some sort of text book. Her back was straight and her legs tucked under the chair with her ankles crossed. It looked like she was self consciously trying to look put together. She looked up at them, blue green eyes looking him over critically, he could practically see her picking him apart in her mind and he tried not to fidget.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason Todd,” He said, walking over and offering her his hand to shake. She was very pretty, but he was surprised by his own complete lack of attraction, she just didn’t register that way, she seemed more… maternal almost.

“Ah, the dead son,” She chuckled, getting up from the table and reaching out to shake his hand, her grip was strong and her hands were soft and cool. “It’s nice to meet you, they mentioned you. Nothing bad,” She added when she saw her face. “And I don’t mean to be rude, I know some people are sensitive about their deaths being mentioned. Danny jokes about it all the time so… I just wanted to let you know that I know, and I accept you.” Jazz said with a warm smile. 

Her easy acceptance caught him off guard and before he could help it he was baring his teeth at her in a snarl, defensive and probing, did she mean it? She grinned sharper bearing sharp fangs at him in a matching sign of… friendly aggression, something inside him settled. He chuckled and took a step back. “Well thanks, nice to meet someone who doesn’t look like they bit a lemon every time I make a death joke.”

“It’s your death, as long as it’s healthy you can own that however comes naturally to you,” Jazz promised, sitting back down at the desk. “I’d love to talk more and get to know you, but we can do that later. You really should meet Danny.”

“You don’t want to come with us,” Bruce broke in, sounding worried. Jason had almost forgotten he was there, he hadn’t realized how… all encompassing the short interaction had been.

“I’ll probably follow,” Jazz said with a shrug, her gaze turning stern as she looked at Bruce. “Remember what I said about never breaking up a fight,” She told him firmly. 

Well if that didn’t make Jason nervous he didn’t know what did. Why would he fight with Danny? Would Danny fight with him? Why? “You really think it’s a good idea for us to meet? Why would we fight?” Jason asked her sharply.

“Of course,” she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked back at him, though her expression remained a little mischievous. “It’ll be good for both of you.”

Next

[hockeyluvrr]

BLENDER || lh43

MAIN MASTERLIST

summary: Love was never the problem-but distance, doubt, and heartbreak were. You tried to hold on. So did he. But when love stops being enough, what's left?

based on the song BLENDER by 5SOS

warnings: arguments, emotional tension, swearing, miscommunication, jealousy, confrontation, desperation, uncertainty, breaking up, heartbreak, emotional limbo, unresolved feelings, basically all the basic angst stuff lol

notes: holy shit, this came out of nowhere ngl... this is my longest fic yet and I love it so much. shoutout to my 5sos girlies, this is for you (mostly me though 🤭)

word count: 6,410

The fight had been over for an hour, but your phone was still buzzing.

LUKE: can you just pick up?

LUKE: i don’t want to end the night like this.

LUKE: please.

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the notification. Your body still felt tight, wound up from everything you’d just screamed at each other. The distance was getting to both of you. Maybe it had been from the start.

This was supposed to be easy. A summer fling that accidentally turned into more.

You met Luke last July, when the air was thick with humidity and the nights bled into each other without much consequence. You didn’t think twice when it started—just a guy and a girl caught up in something fun, something fleeting.

But then August came, and instead of ending things, you found yourself tangled in his sheets, whispering promises neither of you had planned to make.

So now, months later, you were here—staring at his name on your phone, wondering if loving someone like this was supposed to feel like free-falling with no parachute.

Another buzz.

LUKE: i’m calling.

The screen lit up with his name, and you swore under your breath before finally answering.

“What?”

A beat of silence. Then, his voice—tired, frustrated, but still laced with something soft. “You actually picked up.”

“I figured you weren’t gonna stop until I did,” you muttered, shifting in bed. Your voice came out flat, but you weren’t sure how else to talk to him when your heart was still beating too fast from the argument.

Luke exhaled sharply. “I don’t get why you’re acting like I don’t care.”

“You don’t get it because you’re never here.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and aching.

His silence was louder than the words themselves.

“Y/N…” He sounded exhausted. “You know I can’t just—”

“I know, Luke,” you cut in. “I know you have a career. I know you can’t just drop everything for me. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You sat up, gripping your blanket. “I call. I text. I make time. But when was the last time you put in the effort? When was the last time you planned something instead of just squeezing me in when it was convenient?”

His breath hitched, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the words.

The silence stretched.

You should’ve let it sit. Let him stew in it. But instead, your voice broke when you whispered, “Do you even miss me, Luke?”

The question must’ve hit him harder than anything else, because when he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. “Are you serious?”

You didn’t answer. You weren’t sure you could.

“Of course I fucking miss you,” he snapped. “Every damn day. But I can’t just—” He cut himself off, cursing under his breath. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. I can’t fix the distance. I can’t fix my schedule. I can’t—”

“I don’t want you to fix it,” you admitted, voice cracking. “I just want to matter enough for you to try.”

The silence came back, heavier than before.

You closed your eyes. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Wait—”

“I need space, Luke.” Your throat tightened. “Just… goodnight.”

Then, before he could say anything else, you hung up.

You threw your phone onto the nightstand and curled up into yourself, letting the weight of it all crash down.

Outside, the city lights flickered through your window, but they didn’t feel warm. Not tonight.

Not when you weren’t sure if this was just another fight—

Or the beginning of the end.

———

You didn’t sleep.

Not really, anyway. You drifted in and out, your mind replaying every second of last night’s fight, twisting his words in a way that left a hollow ache in your chest.

By the time morning rolled around, your phone was still dark. No texts. No missed calls.

Luke had listened when you said you needed space.

You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse.

With a deep sigh, you pushed the blankets off and sat up, rubbing your hands over your face. The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional hum of traffic outside. It felt unnatural, like the silence had taken up permanent residence in your head, stretching far beyond last night.

You hated how much you missed him.

Even now, your body was wired to check your phone first thing in the morning, waiting for one of his lazy, half-awake messages. Morning, pretty girl. Wish you were here. Call me when you wake up.

But today, there was nothing.

It shouldn’t have surprised you. You were the one who ended the call. You were the one who asked for space.

So why did it feel like he was the one pulling away?

With a groan, you flopped back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling, replaying the fight in your head. Maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe you should’ve let him explain instead of throwing accusations like knives. You knew his schedule was hell. You knew long distance wasn’t easy.

But at the same time… when was the last time he really made you feel like a priority?

Before you could spiral any further, your phone buzzed.

Your heart jumped.

But when you grabbed it, the screen didn’t show Luke’s name.

It was your best friend, Riley.

RILEY: u up? brunch. now. no excuses.

You hesitated. Normally, you’d decline, opting to stay curled up in your thoughts. But today, with the weight of last night still pressing on your chest, you needed the distraction.

YOU: be there in 20.

—

The café was small and familiar, the kind of place you and Riley had claimed as your own years ago. The smell of coffee and syrup hung thick in the air, and the morning crowd buzzed around you.

Riley spotted you before you even reached the table. “Oh, yeah. You look rough.”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped into the seat across from her. “Thanks.”

She pushed a mimosa toward you. “Drink. Then talk.”

You didn’t argue. One sip turned into two, and before you knew it, you were spilling everything—how Luke had called, how you fought, how you hung up first. How he hadn’t texted since.

Riley frowned. “So you told him you needed space, and now you’re mad that he’s giving it to you?”

You groaned, slumping in your seat. “Not when you say it like that.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to say it?” She arched a brow. “Did you expect him to blow up your phone? Show up at your door?”

You hated that you didn’t have a good answer.

Riley sighed, softer this time. “I get it, babe. I do. Long distance sucks. And I know you’re tired of feeling like you’re the only one putting in the effort. But you guys love each other, right?”

Your stomach twisted. Love.

Neither of you had said it yet.

Riley noticed your silence and leaned forward. “Wait. Have you guys even talked about—?”

“No,” you cut in quickly, suddenly regretting this conversation. “It’s not like that.”

She gave you a knowing look but didn’t push. “Okay. So what is it like?”

You exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “It’s…” You struggled for the right words. “It’s messy. It’s intense. It’s too much but never enough at the same time.”

Riley nodded like she understood, even though you weren’t sure you did.

For a second, neither of you spoke. Then, she reached for her phone.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer right away. Then, with a pointed look, she turned the screen toward you.

Luke’s latest Instagram post stared back at you.

Your chest tightened.

It was a photo of him at practice, mid-laugh, sweaty and effortless in a way that made your heart ache. The caption was simple. Back at it.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing emotional.

But all the comments blurred together in your head. Can’t wait to watch you this season! Missed you on the ice! Looking good, Hughesy!

It was a reminder that, while you were sitting here overthinking everything, Luke was out there living.

Like last night never happened.

Like you didn’t happen.

You swallowed hard. “So what? He’s just… moving on?”

Riley gave you a sympathetic look. “Or maybe he’s just waiting. For you to reach out first.”

You stared at the screen, your stomach twisting into knots.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you should text him.

Or maybe the cracks were already too deep to fix.

———

It had been three days.

Three days since the fight. Three days since you hung up on Luke. Three days of absolute silence.

You told yourself you wouldn’t be the one to break first. If he cared, he’d reach out. If he wanted this to work, he’d try.

But every hour that passed without his name lighting up your phone chipped away at your resolve.

You were starting to wonder if maybe this was how it ended—not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a slow, suffocating silence that swallowed you whole.

And yet, even with the weight of it pressing down on your chest, you still couldn’t bring yourself to text him first.

Instead, you did the worst possible thing.

You checked social media.

Luke wasn’t the type to post often, but his teammates were. And there he was—in a video on Jack’s story, laughing in the background, surrounded by friends, a drink in hand like the last three days hadn’t meant anything to him.

You stared at the screen, your grip tightening on your phone.

Maybe this was stupid. Maybe you were reading too much into it.

But the longer you watched, the worse it got.

Because then she appeared.

A girl you didn’t recognise—blonde, wearing a Devils jersey far too oversized to be her own—sidling up next to Luke, whispering something in his ear. He didn’t move away. Didn’t look uncomfortable. Just smirked, shaking his head at whatever she said before taking another sip of his drink.

Your stomach twisted.

The worst part wasn’t the fact that she was there. It wasn’t even the fact that Luke didn’t seem to mind.

It was the fact that, for the first time since you met him, you had no idea where you stood.

You weren’t his girlfriend, not officially.

Not really.

Because when the summer ended, neither of you had wanted to put a label on it. You told yourselves it was easier that way—no pressure, no expectations, just whatever this was.

But now, as you watched him on that screen, looking so effortlessly unbothered, it hit you like a fucking freight train.

Maybe you’d been wrong.

Maybe you weren’t something worth holding on to.

The buzzing in your head was so loud that you almost didn’t hear Riley calling your name.

You blinked, barely processing that she was standing in the doorway of your apartment. “Are you even listening?”

You swallowed hard, locking your phone before she could see the screen. “What?”

She sighed, stepping inside and dropping onto your couch. “I said we’re going out tonight. You need a distraction.”

“I don’t need a distraction,” you muttered, even as you stared blankly at the wall.

Riley rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what? You’re just gonna sit here all night, refreshing Instagram like a psycho?”

Your silence must have been answer enough.

She groaned. “Y/N. Come on. I love you, but this? This isn’t healthy. You don’t even know what’s going on.”

You clenched your jaw. “I know enough.”

She gave you a long look, then sighed. “Fine. If you’re not gonna let it go, then at least don’t let him be the only one having fun tonight.”

You hesitated.

Riley saw the crack in your resolve and jumped on it. “Just a couple drinks. That’s all I’m asking.”

You weren’t sure why you agreed. Maybe it was the fact that you’d barely left your apartment in days. Maybe it was the need to feel something—anything—other than this ache in your chest.

Or maybe, deep down, it was the smallest, most pathetic part of you that wanted Luke to see you moving on, too.

———

The bar was packed. Music pulsed through the speakers, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and too many bodies crammed into one space.

It should’ve felt suffocating.

But instead, with a drink in your hand and Riley’s laughter ringing in your ears, you almost managed to forget.

Almost.

At least, until your phone buzzed in your pocket.

You knew who it was before you even checked.

LUKE: are you out?

Your heart nearly stopped. After three days of nothing, this was how he chose to reach out? Not an apology. Not an explanation. Just that.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and typed back before you could think better of it.

YOU: why do you care?

His response was instant.

LUKE: where are you?

You stared at the message, pulse pounding in your ears.

He had no right to be asking that. Not after ignoring you. Not after letting you sit with the weight of this fight while he went out, acting like he didn’t care.

So instead of answering, you did the stupidest thing possible.

You let some guy buy you another drink.

You didn’t know his name. Didn’t care. He was tall, attractive, and most importantly—he wasn’t Luke.

And if you felt the burn of guilt in your chest when he leaned in closer, when his fingers brushed against yours. You shouldn’t even feel guilty, right? Luke’s been doing the same thing.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Until your phone buzzed again.

LUKE: Y/N.

One words. Your name. That’s all it took to make your breath hitch.

Because suddenly, it wasn’t just a fight. It wasn’t just a rough patch.

This was a game.

———

The tension had been simmering all night.

It started with Luke’s text. One simple word that crawled under your skin, wrapping around your ribs like a vice. But what pissed you off the most wasn’t the message itself.

It was the fact that he suddenly cared.

After three days of silence. After her in his Instagram story. After making you feel like you were the only one suffering through this distance.

And now, here he was, acting like he had a say in what you did.

So you ignored the text.

And maybe you let that guy keep flirting with you a little longer than you should have. Maybe you let his hand linger at the small of your back when he leaned in to talk. Maybe you even laughed a little louder, tilted your chin just enough that if Luke somehow saw—if he was watching—he’d know exactly what you were doing.

It was petty. It was reckless.

But so was loving someone who could make you feel this small.

The tension cracked the second you stepped outside the bar.

Luke was waiting.

You nearly tripped when you saw him, heart slamming against your ribs. He was standing near the curb, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, jaw clenched so tightly it looked like he was trying to grind his teeth into dust.

Your stomach flipped. He was here. He actually came.

But you weren’t sure if that made things better or worse.

His eyes locked onto you immediately, flickering down to the guy who had followed you out. And in that moment, the simmering tension didn’t just build. It exploded.

“The fuck is this?” Luke’s voice was low, controlled—but you knew him well enough to hear the storm brewing beneath it.

You blinked, still caught off guard by the fact that he was here. “What?”

Luke’s jaw tightened. “Who the hell is he?”

The guy next to you—God, you didn’t even remember his name—shifted awkwardly. “Uh—”

“Not your business, Hughes,” you cut in before he could finish.

Luke’s eyes snapped back to you. “Not my business?”

“You heard me.” Your pulse was pounding, but you forced yourself to hold your ground. “You don’t get to disappear for three days and then show up acting like you have any right to be pissed.”

Luke let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “That’s funny, because I could say the same thing. You tell me you need space, ignore me for days, and then I see you all over some guy?”

“I ignored you?” You scoffed, anger bubbling to the surface. “That’s rich, Luke. Where the hell were you? Oh, right—too busy playing NHL golden boy, letting some random girl hang off you—”

“What girl?”

The fact that he had the audacity to act confused made your blood boil. “Don’t play dumb.” You crossed your arms, nails digging into your skin. “The blonde. The one in your jersey.”

Luke stared at you for a moment, then let out another disbelieving laugh. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“She’s Jack’s friend. She was at the game. I barely talked to her.” He shook his head, eyes dark with frustration. “Jesus, Y/N. You saw a story and what—just assumed the worst?”

You hated the way your stomach twisted at that.

Because maybe—just maybe—he was right. Maybe you had let jealousy cloud your judgment. Maybe you had let the silence between you turn into something uglier than it was ever meant to be.

But that didn’t change the fact that this wasn’t just about her.

It was about everything.

The late-night calls that were always cut short. The weeks without seeing each other. The way it felt like you were constantly reaching for him while he was always a step too far away.

“You let me assume the worst,” you muttered, voice shaking despite yourself. “Because you never do anything to prove me wrong.”

Luke’s expression flickered—just for a second. And in that second, you saw it. The guilt.

But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” His voice was quieter now, raw around the edges. “That I wish I could be around more? That I fucking hate the distance just as much as you do?” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You act like this is easy for me. Like I don’t miss you every goddamn day.”

Your throat tightened. “Then why don’t you act like it?”

He stared at you, breathing hard, like he was trying to find the right words—but they never came.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

There was always so much left unsaid.

Neither of you spoke. The tension that had been simmering all night was now crackling in the air between you, but this time, there was nowhere left for it to go.

The guy you had walked out with cleared his throat. “Uh—”

Luke’s head snapped toward him. “Leave.”

“Luke—”

“No, it’s fine.” The guy held up his hands, clearly deciding that whatever this was, it wasn’t worth the drama. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You didn’t watch him leave. You didn’t even care.

Because all of your attention was on Luke.

On the way his shoulders were tense, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes locked onto yours like this was some kind of battle neither of you knew how to win.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you exhaled. “So what now?”

Luke hesitated.

And that hesitation—that tiny moment of uncertainty—made something inside you crack.

Because if he didn’t know, then maybe you already did.

Maybe you’d known for a while.

Maybe you just hadn’t wanted to say it out loud.

You swallowed hard. “I can’t keep doing this, Luke.”

His face fell.

You regretted the words the second they left your mouth.

I can’t keep doing this, Luke.

Because now they were out there, hanging heavy in the space between you, and you couldn’t take them back.

Luke’s face twisted, like the weight of them had hit him straight in the chest. He shifted slightly, like he wanted to move closer but didn’t know if he was still allowed to. “You don’t mean that.”

Your throat tightened. Didn’t you?

“I don’t know,” you whispered, voice barely audible over the hum of the city around you. “I don’t know what I mean anymore.”

That seemed to snap something in him. His jaw clenched, frustration bleeding into his voice. “So what? You just want to walk away?”

Your stomach twisted. That wasn’t what you wanted—not really. But maybe it would be easier. Maybe it would hurt less than this constant, suffocating ache in your chest.

“I don’t want to,” you admitted, voice cracking. “But, Luke… I don’t know how to keep this from falling apart.”

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Then we figure it out.”

You let out a hollow laugh. “And how do we do that? Because I’m fucking exhausted. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one fighting for this.”

That made something flicker in his expression—something wounded. “That’s not fair.”

You scoffed. “Isn’t it?”

His eyes darkened. “You think I don’t fight for this? You think I don’t want to be with you?”

“I think you want me when it’s convenient.” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t take them back. “When you have time. When it doesn’t get in the way of your schedule.”

Luke took a step closer, shaking his head. “That’s bullshit.”

“Is it?” You could feel your control slipping, the frustration bubbling over. “Because I spend every day waiting for you to call, waiting for you to show up—and half the time, I’m left wondering if you even remember I exist.”

Luke’s brows furrowed, his expression torn between anger and something softer, something that looked like guilt.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice tight. “You have no fucking clue how hard this is for me too.”

“Then tell me.” Your voice cracked, raw and desperate. “Because all I know is that I feel like I’m constantly reaching for you, and you’re never there.”

Luke let out a frustrated breath, his hands flexing like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? I don’t know how to give you everything you deserve while I’m a thousand miles away.”

Your chest ached at the confession, at the vulnerability underneath the frustration. But it didn’t change anything.

“I’m not asking for everything, Luke.” Your voice softened just slightly. “I’m just asking for something.”

Luke shook his head, exhaling sharply. “I—fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, like he was trying to pull himself together. “I don’t know how to fix this, but I can’t lose you.”

Your heart clenched.

Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Neither of you knew how to fix it. But neither of you could bear the thought of letting go.

Luke’s gaze searched yours, desperate and pleading. “Tell me what to do.”

Your throat felt tight. “I don’t have the answer.”

For a second, neither of you spoke. The tension was suffocating, your emotions teetering on a knife’s edge.

Then, suddenly, Luke moved.

He reached for you like it was instinct, his hands cupping your face, his forehead pressing against yours. His breath was shaky, his grip almost too tight—like he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers.

“I love you.” The words were barely above a whisper, but they hit you like a punch to the chest.

Your breath hitched.

Because he’d never said it before. Neither of you had.

You felt your resolve cracking, splintering under the weight of those three words.

But love wasn’t always enough.

And as much as you wanted to believe this was the turning point—the moment everything changed—you weren’t sure if this was a beginning or just the messiest part of the end.

Because Luke had never said those words before.

And you’d spent so long wondering if he ever would—if he ever could.

Now, here they were, hanging in the air between you like a lifeline you weren’t sure you could reach for.

I love you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the way his hands trembled against your skin. He was holding you so tightly, like he thought you might slip through his fingers if he let go.

And maybe he was right.

Because as much as you wanted to say it back—as much as you felt it—you weren’t sure love was enough to fix this.

Your throat felt tight. “Luke…”

He shook his head quickly, like he already knew what you were going to say. “Don’t. Just—don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

Your heart twisted. “I do mean it.”

Luke’s breath hitched, but before he could say anything, you continued.

“I love you, Luke.” The words tasted like the truth, and you hated how much it hurt to say them. “But I don’t know if that changes anything.”

Luke exhaled sharply, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were desperate, searching. “Of course it changes things.”

You swallowed hard. “Does it?”

He blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to ask that. “It has to.”

Your chest ached. Because you wanted to believe that. You wanted to believe that loving each other was enough to make the distance bearable, to make the jealousy fade, to make the ache in your chest disappear every time he left.

But love wasn’t a bandage. It didn’t erase the late nights spent staring at your phone, wondering if he’d call. It didn’t undo the fights, the silences, the way you felt like you were constantly fighting a battle you didn’t know how to win.

Luke must have seen the hesitation on your face because his grip tightened. “Y/N, I need you to tell me what to do here.” His voice was quiet, but it was raw, edged with frustration and fear. “Because I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t know how to make this work.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know either.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Neither of you had the answers.

You loved him, and he loved you. But love alone wasn’t fixing anything.

Luke clenched his jaw. “So what? We just give up?”

You inhaled sharply. “I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” he pleaded. “Stay.”

Your heart cracked straight down the middle.

Because God, you wanted to stay. You wanted to hold onto him and pretend like love was enough. You wanted to ignore the distance, the fights, the uncertainty.

But how much longer could you keep pretending that love was enough to stop this from falling apart?

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Luke, I don’t know how to keep doing this.”

His expression twisted, something breaking in his gaze.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment.

The silence felt heavier than ever before. Stretching between you, thick and suffocating.

Luke’s hands were still on you, but his grip had loosened—like he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t hold on forever.

But neither of you were ready to say it out loud.

Not yet.

“I can do better,” he said suddenly, voice hoarse. “I’ll—fuck, I’ll make more time. I’ll fly out every chance I get. I’ll call more. Whatever you need.”

Your chest ached at the desperation in his voice.

Because he meant it. You knew he did.

But the problem was never him meaning it.

The problem was reality—the way life always seemed to get in the way, no matter how much either of you wanted to pretend otherwise.

You swallowed hard. “Luke…”

“Just give me a chance,” he pleaded. “One more chance to make this work.”

You hated how badly you wanted to say yes.

Because you did. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that one more try would be enough. That if you just held on a little longer, fought a little harder, things would get easier.

But history had already proven otherwise.

Still, when you looked at him—at the raw emotion in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were slipping through his fingers—you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

Not yet.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief, and before you could second-guess it, he was pulling you against him. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his face buried in your hair, like he was trying to memorise the feel of you against him.

“I love you,” he murmured again, like saying it enough times would make everything okay.

You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the back of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

And you did.

But deep down, you had a sinking feeling that love wouldn’t be enough to save you.

Not this time.

———

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

For a little while, it almost felt like things were okay. Luke called more, sent you stupid texts throughout the day, made an effort to remind you that he wanted this, that he wanted you.

And maybe that should’ve been enough.

But it wasn’t.

Because even when he was trying—when he was doing everything he promised he would—the ache in your chest never really went away.

It wasn’t just the distance. It was the exhaustion. The weight of trying so hard, only to feel like you were running in circles.

Like you were holding onto something that was already slipping through the cracks.

And now, standing in his apartment, you felt the final thread start to snap.

Luke was frustrated. You could see it in the way he raked a hand through his hair, in the way his jaw kept clenching like he was trying to hold something back.

“Jesus, Y/N, what else do you want me to do?” His voice wasn’t raised, but it was edged with something sharp, something tired. “I’m trying. I’m here. What more do you want?”

You exhaled shakily, heart pounding against your ribs. “I don’t know.”

Luke let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You have to know. Because I can’t keep guessing what’s going to make you happy.”

Your stomach twisted. “This isn’t just about me.”

“No? Because it sure as hell feels like I’m the only one bending over backward to make this work.”

That stung.

Because you had been trying. You had been fighting for this.

But maybe that was the difference.

Luke thought fixing this was about doing things—calling more, texting more, showing up when he could. And sure, those things mattered. But that wasn’t what was breaking you.

It was everything in between.

The distance that couldn’t be closed by a few extra phone calls. The silence that still felt heavy, even when you were together. The way you still felt alone, even in the moments he was right in front of you.

It wasn’t about effort anymore. It was about the fact that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t supposed to keep fighting for something that hurt this much.

Your throat felt tight. “I don’t think we can fix this.”

Luke froze.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then, his expression hardened. “So that’s it?”

Your chest ached. “Luke—”

“No, seriously. That’s it?” He let out a sharp breath, stepping back like he couldn’t stand being this close to you anymore. “We hit a rough patch, and you just decide it’s not worth it?”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “This isn’t just a rough patch.” Your voice wavered. “We’ve been fighting for months. We keep trying, and it’s not working.”

Luke shook his head, eyes dark with frustration. “No. You keep doubting us. You keep looking for an excuse to leave.”

That felt like a slap.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Your voice cracked. “Do you think I want to feel like this? To feel like I’m constantly begging for something that’s never enough?”

Luke’s expression flickered—like maybe, just maybe, he finally saw how much this had been hurting you.

But the worst part?

You knew it was hurting him too.

That was what made this so fucking unbearable.

Because this wasn’t about not loving each other.

It was about the fact that love had stopped being enough.

Luke’s hands flexed at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he should. His voice was quieter when he spoke again, but it still felt like a punch to the gut.

“You really want to do this?”

No.

God, no.

But what choice did you have?

Your chest felt like it was caving in, but you forced yourself to nod. “Yeah.”

Luke inhaled sharply, like he’d been punched.

And just like that, it was over.

The fight drained out of him all at once. His shoulders slumped, his eyes flickering toward the floor. “Okay.”

You weren’t sure which hurt more—the frustration, the fighting, or this.

The emptiness.

The realisation that there was nothing left to say.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “I should go.”

Luke didn’t stop you.

And somehow, that was the worst part of all.

———

The apartment felt too quiet.

Your suitcase sat half-open by the door, clothes spilling out of it. You hadn’t unpacked since you got back a week ago, pathetically trying to cling onto something you weren’t ready to let go of.

But what was left to stay for?

Your hands shook as you opened it further, starting to finally unpack. Your chest felt hollow, like the fight had carved out a part of you that you weren’t sure would ever feel whole again.

You had been the one to walk away.

So why did it feel like you had just lost everything?

You had told yourself that this was the right decision. That love—no matter how deep, no matter how real—wasn’t always enough. That some things just didn’t work, no matter how badly you wanted them to.

But God, it hurt.

Your phone sat on the bedside table, untouched since you got back to your apartment.

Luke hadn’t called.

And you weren’t sure what hurt more—the idea that he was too angry to reach out, or the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he had already accepted this.

That he was ready to let you go.

You weren’t sure you were ready to let go of him.

But you had already done the hardest part. You had walked out of his apartment, out of his life.

Now, you just had to figure out how to live with it.

———

The silence in the apartment was unbearable.

Luke had never noticed how loud it was when you were here—the hum of your voice on the phone, the sound of your laugh echoing from the other room, the way you always seemed to fill the space in a way he never had.

Now, it was just quiet.

And he fucking hated it.

His hands flexed at his sides as he paced the living room, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

You were gone.

And it wasn’t a stupid fight. It wasn’t a rough patch.

This time, you weren’t coming back.

Luke had thought about calling you. Had stared at his phone for so long that his vision blurred, the screen taunting him with your name.

But what would he even say?

That he was sorry? That he still loved you? That he wanted to take it all back, but he knew deep down that nothing had changed?

That no matter how much he wanted to fix this, some things just weren’t meant to be fixed?

Luke sat down heavily on the couch, staring at the door like he half expected you to walk back in.

But you wouldn’t.

And he wasn’t sure how to live with that.

———

Time was supposed to make this easier.

That’s what everyone told you. That eventually, the ache in your chest would dull, and one day you’d wake up without the weight of him pressing against your ribs.

But weeks had passed. Then months.

And Luke still felt like a ghost in your life.

He was everywhere and nowhere all at once. In the song that played in the coffee shop, in the hoodie still shoved in the back of your closet because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away. In the fleeting moments when you reached for your phone before remembering that he wasn’t yours to call anymore.

You had moved on, technically. You did all the things you were supposed to do—went out with friends, filled your days with distractions, pretended like the hole in your chest wasn’t still there.

But every time you saw his name in a headline, every time you heard his voice in an interview, it hit you like a punch to the gut.

Because you still missed him.

And no matter how much time passed, you weren’t sure you’d ever stop.

———

He didn’t talk about you.

Not to his teammates, not to his family, not even when Jack asked in that quiet, careful way that made Luke’s jaw tighten.

Because if he didn’t talk about you, maybe he could pretend like he wasn’t still thinking about you.

Like he didn’t check his phone some nights, scrolling mindlessly, hoping to see your name somewhere even though he knew he wouldn’t.

Like he didn’t still hear your voice in the back of his head sometimes, teasing him, laughing, telling him you loved him.

It was pathetic, probably. Holding onto something that was already gone.

But Luke had never been good at letting go.

He threw himself into hockey. Into practices, games, anything that kept him too exhausted to think about the way his apartment still felt empty without you.

But some nights, when the adrenaline faded and the silence crept in, he wondered.

If you still thought about him. If you still missed him the way he missed you.

If this was really over.

Or if maybe, just maybe, it never really would be.

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 . ( a collection of lyric prompts based on various works by ashnikko . adjust phrasing as necessary , mature themes and language are present . )

attitude and the booze won't save you .

you fuck my life up then you say "my bad" .

you don't seem to see what a cliche you are .

repeat after me , "i'm over it" .

you don't ever cross my mind , what's a sheep to a tiger ?

i'm no prey , but i am pursued .

my best friend thinks that i'm a dumbass .

the world is burning and i laugh at the blaze .

on your horse so high , i swear to god i'm higher .

heard a rumor that you said you made me who i am .

i'm too healthy , wealthy , well fed .

i don't have the time to pretend you're funny .

self - made , self - paid , how dare you speak my name ?

i hate you so much right now .

you're not special , it's not cute .

hi , it's me , back again . here to remind you he's not worth it .

i slip up , i text you , i forget that you were so disrespectful .

they told me to be nice and i told them to bite me .

you don't want to see me bratty .

i put that teddy bear you gave me in a blender .

whiskey in my hip flask , nothing fruity .

i can see the desperation , i've got you right where i want you .

you can't stand to see me shine .

so lame that i'm your only claim to fame .

i like how you look when you really beg .

i need a new toy just to cleanse my palate .

it's gonna hurt , it'll sting .

only one strike , then you get the boot .

the only thing you seem to give me is sex .

you think you're the man , bitch please .

we both know it wasn't love , it was a big bad habit .

i only trust a fella for some light amusement .

unfortunately , you made the mistake of underestimating me .

you wish you could sway my attention .

tell me what you need .

there was potential in you .

i wanna make a couple bad decisions .

i'm no cinderella , but i like the shoes .

i do well for myself , nothing you do is extraordinary .

my dumb ass should be a little more cautious .

fuck a princess , i'm a king .

i say i won't do it , then i do it and i make myself sick .

you think you're worth all the fuss ?

to tell the truth , role models weren't around me much .

why am i such a sucker for a fuckboy's freckles ?

i say it's a no - brainer , now .

i'm crazy , but you like that . i bite back .

you already know i'm not shy .

what we did was childish , can we put this behind us ?

nothing was nice , but i loved every minute .

i don't give a fuck , i have more fun on my ones .

i've been predisposed to trauma since i was eleven .

you can keep the image of my butt as a souvenir .

being a bitch is my kink .

you're still taught the same shit .

i think she really likes me .

hide your back , she likes to stab them .

i hate that i'm so self depricating , more comfortable in bad situations .

i'm a little faded , you look like a fuckin' painting .

when i'm with you i have amnesia , got me without a mind .

i don't let a fucker on the internet tell me nothing .

this is all because you want to say you've done it .

i'm fresh out of patience .

you wish i missed you . back the fuck up .

i'm a sucker for a little devastation .

coulda , shoulda , woulda , but you did it .

i swear i'm not crying , the sun's just bright .

tell me why i need you over the next .

i'm eager to hurt more .

i swear my blue vibrator brings me more joy .

i gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch .

you better stock up on tissues , jacking off to all my pictures .

fake it to the top .

typical of me to go and ruin the party .

i'm having the best time of my life .

i'm having the worst time of my life .

you look dumb now that i've come to my senses .

what do you really mean when you're calling me nice ?

you wanna hold a gun but they made you a pinup .

i forget that you're still so disrespectful .

your love is not impressive .

tell it to my manager , he'll tell you "pay a fee" .

now that i can think rationally , i feel so stupid .

everybody says they love me but i'm still brokenhearted .

it's like i need a babysitter , someone to come get me .

god made me pretty , you made me mean .

say you want my body , let me give it to you .

i'm not in your circle , baby .

i just wanna push you to the edge now .

your sad life is never getting better .

what are you mad at me for , huh ?

i was living good until your locusts and your plague hit .

forgive me for the nasty things i say when i'm wounded .

so you're scared of me now , huh ?

women hold the weight of the world .

there's something to be said for a bitch who can top me .

if nothing matters , then i'll be fine .

you hate me cause you hate yourself .

dust yourself off , girl , keep your chin up .

he says i'm a lost cause and he might be right .

i'm that "fuck up your life" girl .

i would crawl through broken glass to get home .

i play my life like a video game .

i think you've gotta do way more if you wanna please me .

what's he doing ? i don't need a brave knight .

i deleted your number .

i'm not shy , i'll say it . i've been picturing you naked .

legs getting tired , can we switch positions ?

you put a knife in my back but you'll never be the death of me .

i could squash you like a little rotten fruit .

you could never , 'cause you're not clever enough .

we were good while it lasted .

my baby calls me bossy .

i don't really need a man , but sometimes i want one though .

i can't even wear my skin without them asking where i've been .

i can make you call remember me .

stupid boy thinks that i need him .

hate me 'cause i'm beautiful , bitch i don't like you either .

i think you know you can't replace me .

who do i have to kill to make everybody love me ?

i try to think , but it's no use .

maybe we can love until we're dead .

this is not an invitation .

how dare i have private desires ?

now you're crying and you're shaking ?

nothing about you is attractive to me , now .

am i fuckable enough for you ?

i don't want you and i don't want your homie .

please don't think that the sex is gonna cloud my view .

can't believe i let your hand inside my bloomers .

tell me how my ass tastes , little bottom feeder .

you don't know your way around a pussy .

i want it , i win it . call it ambition .

i don't need the dick - i need magic , i need money .

i know you think about me in the shower .

i've got several dummies that wanna get on me .

this is so small in the big simulation .

go find another bitch to hoover , count the days until you lose her .

i know you think about me with your hand down your trousers .

you don't know anyone else like me .

it's a therapist you need .

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Helloo

Ur nefero fics are soo good😙 Could you write something like maybe how much he worships reader?? Thank uu<3

Great minds think alike bestie I'd love to write this sooo here we go!

__________________________________________

Male Nefera x fem! Reader

Prompt: Nefero but he's just worshiping you

She her pronouns

Fluff/kissing/female worship/

Image not mine found in pinterest

(I'm obsessed this is literally how he sees you full goddes)

__________________________________________

Nefero looks at you with adoring eyes as you talked about the book you had just finished,eyes lit up,hands moving all around for emphasis on a specific part of the story that you said in I quote "was the most unrealistic thing ever" you keep talking/rambling off to your boyfriend at your table in the (just them since he liked days where it was just the two of you).

[Name] let out a frustrated sigh as she finished speaking "like it's totally crazy right Nefie?" You stopped waiting for his response "yes very" he nodded his head hoping you'd continue talking till your heart's content "thank you ugh, you get me" then she continued for the remaining lunch time while taking breaks to actually eat.

"Is there something on my face?" [Name] asked, quickly getting out a small mirror "No your fine, my jewel excuse my rudeness" he sets down the mirror from your hands and took it; placing it back in your purse "oh well that's okay, I love when you stare though please tell me i have nothing on my face next time haha" the ghoul looked away sheepishly "it's always nice to know you still look at me that way really" she said earnestly "I'll always admire your beautiful self,all day if you asked me too" Nefero took her hand in his smiling wide "hehe you got smile lines Nefie" "WHAT?!"

In their class Nefero is yet again looking at [Name] with heart shaped pupils in his purple eyes, he watched as you reapplied your lip gloss "so you like this color on me?" You turn your head to him and pointed at the lip gloss bottle and then your lips ``it looks absolutely Divine on you my queen" he told you sincerely

The two walk out of school the day had finished and now it was time to get you home "are you gonna stay home with me? I'm making dinner today" you asked your boyfriend looking at his hands intertwined "of course my jewel but I need to go home and change first" [Name] looked at him perplexed "but I have some of your clothes at my house, why not shower and change there?" She tilted her head "my jewel you only have my shirts not pants or shorts" he teased

"Ohhh haha right" she looked to the side "maybe I should steal your pants so you won't have to go and change" "What?" [Name] looked at him "Well if I have some of your clothes other than shirts you won't have to be apart from me! Plus we could shower together, did you know that can save our water bill" you tried to play it off with some "statistics"

Nefero held your face in his hands smirking at you;making your face feel hot"My dear we can do that anytime you wish no need for an excuse" he leaned in and kissed your lips gently,you hummed through the kiss then separated making Nefero pout "oh stop you big baby let's get going so you can change quickly at your house and take me to mine" "but don't you have to start dinner?"

"Nah my parents won't be home till late I have time" you explain " now come on I wanna choose your outfit" taking his hand [Name] dragged him to his limo

_________________________________

[Name] is seen in her kitchen cooking up a meat stew and some rice she wears a "kiss the cook" apron which happens a lot when Nefero is around so she thought why not buy it

She hums along the song on the radio as she puts in a some herbs in the stew and then stirred it thoroughly

Nefero is at the stool of the kitchen island sipping at the strawberry smoothies he made for the both of you with your blender "it smells incredible my jewel" he compliments, [Name] turns around with a smile "would you like to try the stew?" He eagerly nods anything you make was bound to be heavenly he felt so lucky he gets to try it first "Alright here" your bring a soup spoon to his lips and he opens his mouth and swallowing the the liquid gold, it was savory and spicy the meat was tender and with the potatoes, corn, and carrots made all the better.

"Ahhh that is absolutely exquisite" he looks into your eyes with a smile as he leans forward making a move to kiss you and you obliged "muaw!" You gave him a quick kiss dramatically sounding it, he immediately pouted "I want an actually kiss" you sighed and go around towering over him seductively "oh really?" He nodded again

"Alright only cause you asked" you lean down grabbing his collar and pulled him into a deep kiss, he opened his mouth and let you in, moaning as you dominated his tongue then you let him go "there" you panted " *deep exhale* thank you my queen" Nefero wraps his arms on your hip and leans his head onto your stomach while he's still sitting down.

[Name] ruffles his hair up giggling at his cuteness "of course my king" you stayed like that for a few more minutes until you said you had to check on the food which he whined but let you go

He can't help the way your presence makes him feel giddy with excitement, the smell of your sweet perfume, holding you in his embrace, bodies squished together, hearing your heartbeat as he rests his head on your chest at night.

"You look absolutely gorgeous" he said all of a sudden at the dinner table as you ate in comfortable silence "really?" Nefero nodded "you do and I just can't help saying it, in fact it's my duty to tell you any time I see fit, which to be frank is all the time" [Name] looked at him bewildered as if this was a new thing

Yet it wasn't but still it warmed your heart he still looked at you that way for a moment you didn't say anything then with a smile you responded "thank you, my love it means alot that you still admire me like this" she admitted "my queen" he held her hand "I cannot fathom a second in my life where I don't worship your entire being, it's in my nature to do so, for only you"

He lifted her hand and kissed it then continued up until he was met only inches away from her face, looking at her eyes [Name]'s breath hitch then Nefero kissed her cheek gently "would you let me worship you tonight my queen" he said above a whisper "well..." she looked at the clock "they won't be here in about another 6 hours..." she thought about it then looked at him patiently waiting 'why not' [Name] got up and dragged him by the sleeves and up to her bedroom "Let's see how much worship I can get you to say, that suddenly it sounds like a prayer~"

____________________________________________

I feel conflicted with this one, I like the way I wrote it but idk if it truly captured the promt but I feel like this is better than what I write previously

I tried my best but head empty no thoughts I guess, still hope you like it maybe I'm just having imposter syndrome

[still--kicking]

any langsty klance recs? Like where Lance gets injured type shi? Thanks :))

everybody loves to put poor Lance in a blender (or maybe we just love watching Keith go a little feral idk) ((it's probably both))

here are some I've posted before that live rent-free in my brain:

So Much More Than Space Dust by ad_asterism (47,613 words, rated M) I read this one for the first time recently and I can't stop thinking about it. a healing pod malfunctions and wipes Lance's memory of the last seven months in space, including a month where he and Keith were captured by Lotor and Lance was tortured. some of the torture does happen on screen, but it's easy to skip if you choose to. this one is so incredible please read it omg

On the line (stay with me) by hiuythn (4,591 words, rated T) Lance is gravely injured and calls Keith, who's away with the Blades, just to have someone on the phone with him (this is the same author as there, nestled against his pulse which I'm assuming you've read but if you haven't, you need to)

I want your heavens and your oceans too by mothpoem (11,610 words, Rated T) Lance is badly injured and, delirious, tries hitting on the Blade member who rescues him. I'll give you exactly one guess who that Blade member ends up being

My soul has your claim, my soul is in flames by queen-of-voltronian (146,137 words, rated T) takes place during season 7, Lance is pining HARD and then accidentally gets cursed and has to kiss the person he loves most before sundown. And then plot happens. They also address all the bullshit the writers did to Lance in the later half of the show. It's immaculate. I cried. I wouldn't say this is Lance in a literal blender but he's in an emotional blender for SURE poor boy is going through it

Today, Anew by MemeKonVLD (5,910 words, Rated M) Keith is stuck in a time loop where Lance keeps dying, and Keith keeps trying to save him

Devour Me Whole by heavily_caffeinated (12,312 words, rated M) Keith and Lance are captured by a druid who wants to drain their quintessence, and they're both self-sacrificial / protective idiots in love. I adore them <3

and here are some new ones, but I haven't read all of them so mind the tags!! <3

Terminal Velocity by Speaks (26,277 words, rated T) I'll just leave this fic summary here for you, "The only fate worse than being tortured to death is watching, helpless, while the person you love most takes your place" bone apple teeth <3

you may have already read this one because it just finished and lots of people have been posting about it but Where the Apple Falls by europa_report (145,819 words, rated M) "When Lance is fatally wounded during their final battle, the blue lion enters a deep hibernation with Lance inside. Unsure when or if he’ll wake, Keith is forced to wait and watch over him in the company of the people he fears most: Lance’s family."

O come let us adore him by Bandity (34,461 words, Rated T) I haven't read this one but Lance gets stranded on a planet and it seems like the aliens who find him are a little too fond of him. It's not tagged with rape/non-con but check the tags before you read!!

Sorry it took me a while to make your list, but I hope you enjoy the recs!! <3

[justabeewithapen]

(no art needed) ((also please let me know if I'm sending too much stuff too quickly))

In Homestuck there's a character named Arquiusprite, who is an amalgamation of two different characters. He actually loves what he is, he sees himself as the best of both worlds. I think it's a pretty cool subversion of the concept of Frankenstein-esque characters

What's an instance in which Doey would be grateful for what he is? The answer can be about AU, canon, or both.

((no worries whatsoever!!))

How I HC Doey functioning mentally for canon is practically the same as how I HC him for my AU, so I think the answers would be the same as well! (There are definitely differences in how… mixed he is between my au and canon but I wave that off for now haha!) I don’t think there are any instances where he is grateful per say, but there are times where he sorta indulges in it…

Like I have mentioned before I tend to interpret Doey as a singular entity that has chunks, fragments, memories of the three kids used to make him. Bringing back the blender metaphor; you have taken these kids and put them in a blender that wasn’t ran for long enough, so sometimes in the middle of your smoothie you get a chunk. The identity and consciousness of these individual kids just aren’t there anymore, only little bits of their memories and emotions and half thoughts. It’s hard to be grateful for a situation that has gone so poorly.

I think he at his most selfish just wishes they did the job right, that there weren’t these chunks of people he isn’t anymore inside him, rotting away. That he didn’t have to be all that was left of them, that they’d go away and stop haunting his life. However, after learning his own creation, he generally feels a lot of guilt, that he is alive and they aren’t. This is the part that relates to your question here because sometimes he’ll purposefully try and pan for those chunks of memories in his mind and just… idk get lost in them. Pretend that the lives he gets snippets of are properly his, what it would be like to have a pet, or eat icecream, visit the beach. When things are really grim and awful there are moments where he almost is happy to have this place he can hide in, even just briefly. He is still a kid, he’s just not those kids, not anymore. He wonders if they would have liked him…

These moments can only last so long because these fragments are so messy it inevitably either gets out of control or they break apart and it’s back to that generator! I don’t think he is every really grateful for being made the way he was, but when things are going well he hopes that he is doing right by them and that he can somehow prove their deaths weren’t just a waste. If he can just do more for everyone around him, he can prove it… he can… In the meantime, he won’t let their memories go forgotten.

[ladysomething]

no snippets on snippet Wednesday? 🥺

I truly-truly in love with little developments, must’ve reread the last chapter 10 times over…

Thank you for your tireless work!!!

I can’t tell, did you guys want a snippet?? 😂

Here, have an extra long one!

With this being the last meal before Max leaves, Charles takes it into his own hands.

He still can’t hear anything from Max’s room when he passes by the closed door to go upstairs, but he gets started anyway because it’s now almost half past eight.

Aware that Max is probably going to be the hungriest he’s been now that his rut is so close, he chops up all the fruit he can find. Bananas, strawberries, melon, grapes, oranges. He puts three croissants in the oven to warm up—one for him and two for Max—and scrambles eggs. He pours them both some juice, but makes Max a smoothie as well. The only meat Charles can find is chicken, so he grills that as well.

When Max comes upstairs, there are circles under his eyes, he’s got on two sweaters, and there’s a stack of paper under his arm.

“Morning,” he says carefully, eyeing all the food Charles has piled high. “Looks . . .”

The fruit is oddly shaped and mushy from his terrible cutting; the tops of the croissants are burnt; the eggs are cold and rubbery; the chicken is dry; there are smoothie chunks everywhere from when he’d tried to add more milk to the blender without stopping it.

The only thing that looks good is the juice, which he poured straight from the carton.

Charles pulls his lip between his teeth, cheeks pink.

“No, it looks good!” Max says quickly.

Great. It looks so bad that Max, the bluntest person he knows, is lying.

“I tried really hard,” Charles defends weakly.

It’s not really like Max can cook so much better than him—most of their meals are still pre-made, and supplemented with food that's easy to make. Still, even Max has never butchered heating a croissant.

“It’s fine, Charles,” Max promises. “I haven’t even eaten any yet.”

Charles tries to fight his pout, but it doesn’t quite work because Max circles the counter and puts his hand on his elbow.

“No, see, it’s fine,” he repeats, reaching out to pick up a croissant as he squeezes Charles’ arm.

His face twists a little as crispy, burnt flakes of croissant drop everywhere, but he still swallows his mouthful. Charles doesn’t believe him at all, but there’s nothing he can do now except throw it all out, which he doesn’t want to do.

Max seems determined to eat it anyway, so they both carry it all outside into the sun. Charles sits in the shade while Max sits directly in the sunlight, glasses perched on his nose.

The food is far from good, but it's edible, and Max eats it all like he can barely taste it anyway. Charles was right—he is clearly the hungriest he’s been, and he eats everything, even all the fruit that Charles was sure he’d need to store away.

Charles eats far less, but watches on, pleased with Max’s satisfaction when he leans back in his chair and stretches his arms above his head.

His shirt pulls up, revealing a patch of pale skin and the waistband of his underwear. Charles doesn’t even realise he’s staring until Max slumps back down, shirt falling back to cover him.

It’s getting warm out here, Charles decides, pressing the back of his hand to his cheek to cover his flush.

“I brought the contract up,” Max says after a moment, putting his hand on top of the stack of papers he’s brought with him. “If you still want to read it.”

Charles reaches over the table eagerly and Max simply hands it over, though there’s still a large stack of paper left on the table.

The Mating Rights and Exclusive Access to the Omega, Charles Leclerc.

It’s thinner than he remembers it being.

[bryce-bucher]

500 CALIBER CONTRACTZ Post #12

Dialogue!!!11:

The main thing I did over the past week or so was put together this dialogue system. The system itself was fairly easily to implement, and I think the only interesting part of the process to share is how I went about making the UI. As per usual, I wanted to have a cool mechanical feeling ui, but at the same time a friend of mine suggested an AOL instant messenger inspired chat window. I loved both of these ideas so I decided to combine them into a screen that pops up and contains the aim-like window. The modeling process for the screen was similar to how I went about making the other two bits of ui that are on screen in the above photos, but I decided to include a VGA port.

VGA PORT:

I didn't originally plan to include a VGA port, but I was in the middle of researching monitors and accidentally left a window open on my computer that just had a big photo of one and I went "wait a minute.". With my final two braincells I suddenly decided to slap together a model for the port which I ended up being proud enough of to, for some reason, make an entire section for it.

Sorry if any of the above sentences read horribly. I am going to need a third braincell if you want this stuff to be coherent. Anyway, Blender is so cool. Using the array modifier to make all these lil squares for the holes in the port is just such a satisfying process. I've come to really like makin pre-rendered assets like this.

New Movez:

This is actually a pretty big inclusion, and I probably should've ranked it in my mind above the VGA port. I added some new movement options to the game!

Firstly, I added this melee move where you swing the back of the sniper forwards to propel yourself a bit. It is mainly useful as a bunnyhop that allows you to conserve momentum.

Next up I added this kick that happens if you melee while in the air. It's basically just the one from mario64. It lets you gain a little bit more height and distance. It also becomes way more effective if you have a lot of momentum. A good tool for correcting jumps and reaching new heights.

Finally, we have the big schmovement slide. This slide gives you a huge burst of speed that you can jump out of in order to send your self flyin. Surprisingly, it didn't really break any of the level design and ended up being a really fun addition imo. In order to perform it, you have to do a ground pound and then melee as you hit the ground. Also, I feel like I basically stole this from pseudoregalia. Played through that recently and it has been a good source of inspiration.

Nova!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:

This is a cameo skin I've been really excited to finally make myself put in the game. Anodyne 2 is a really important game to me, and I love it much. I'm really happy tha folks at analgesic let me put her in here, and I'm p happy with how her model came together. If you haven't peeped the Anodyne games I highly recommend them. The first one was a major inspiration for parts of Fatum Betula.

Conclusion:

Lately I've been playing this game way too much. It has made it impossible for me to tell if it is fun or well designed. Some problems cropped up during playtesting that ima need to address, and I hope that it all comes together into something that one could say is "fun and cool". I think takin this weekend off is gonna do my brain good. Oh yeah also I feel like I should advertise that I'm still doing commissions if anyone is interested. Anyway, have a good 1 and enjoy urself.

[13leaguestories]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I finished playing Ruben’s route and Superstition all seasons, and absolutely loved both!! I really like the way language was used to shape the imaginary world given to the player, and as an aspiring if writer I have some questions if you don’t mind :) 

How do you arrange/figure out the plot? Do you write it linearly or do you think of an ending first and other major events? I am just curious how the pieces to the puzzle are arranged 

How do you plan out the characters and their values? Basically, any tips to flesh out characters better/ make them feel alive? 

What parts of writing do you usually focus on? Action/ choices/ romance? Any tips for those or challenges encountered when writing them? (also any other writing tips you’d give to your past self?)

And lastly, how do you keep motivation over a project like this that can take a good while for it to be completed? 

I am just writing this because throughout this game I found myself really engaged with it and I want to distribute the same good feeling. Looking forward to Zarik’s route in Toa and thank you again for making such amazing games !!

Let me see if I can put thoughts into words lol.

So it all depends cos for example Superstition/Sea of Stars/For the Crown all came from linear books that I decided to convert into choose your story and so that gives you a beginning, middle, end. It's actually harder this way because now you have to set up "well this kind of MC may not choose this" and inserting branches but they all have to work towards that same end. Whereas with Throne of Ashes, which is pure dee off the noggin, it's a slower process, yes, but has more freedom.

So, to answer your question, I do both. But my process is the same to where I write down the beginning and end then do an act or beat structure to fill in the gaps.

2. Oof, I could go all day about character creation. Love that shit. To make it as short as I can though, I usually just find a bunch of tropes I like, some traits, what I want their main issue and goal to be then toss them in a blender. I think one of the biggest things to ask is: if they were the MC would the story still be intriguing or could you still have a perfectly fitted story. If the answer is yes, good job. No, then well, back to the drawing board. I have so much to say about this one but this thing will be an essay if I go off on this subject lmfao. Like, I love characters so much and the psychology behind them.

3. I usually put a ton of focus into character interactions, dialogue, and lore/world building. I hate action/fighting scenes, definitely a weakness. Romance ... is ... interesting. For me, I don't care a tremendous much but the bulk of your audience is probably reading for the romance, let's be honest. My biggest tip is read. Read books. Like if you don't like horror, still read them. Don't like romance? Still read them. Expand your ability to write different things. No one is saying you need to be an expert on romance tropes but knowing and understanding how that kind of story should move and how that relationship evolves is important. Know what makes a mystery good, or horror scary.

4. ... it's a mix of motivations. Motivating myself is there but it's a rollercoaster. Like right now, I could probably sit down and write two chapters of SoS because I'm excited. But the same can't be said for ToA. Friends and people messaging me telling me how excited they are and how much they enjoy it is a great motivation too. Something that tells me, "hey, there's a reason you're doing this and if you stopped then it would effect something other than you." Of course, you shouldn't put all your motivation in outside forces but having people care help. So for all you lurkers that say "no, I'd just be annoying" trust me, I haven't had one convo with an artist or writer who has said "I don't like being told that someone appreciates my work."

And for you, Anon, good luck! Don't be dismayed if your passion for your current project starts to sway or just stops, it happens and forcing yourself won't help. But, I do hope that you do enjoy and find all of your projects completed. Nothing but good vibes for you and your present and future creative projects.

[alexiasleftoversalmon]

The Tie that Binds

Word count: 799 (idk if that’s bad)

Warnings: none

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Prologue

Wednesday, September 4th, 8:30 am

Ana’s POV

I woke to the blaring noise of my alarm - I needed to get up for school. Even though I changed it to another tone so it’s not the basic one, it isn’t better. I open my eyes and see a small streak of sunlight peeking through the curtains. Five more minutes, I tell myself. I lay in bed, stretched, grabbed my water bottle, and scrolled through my social media to wake myself up. 

Once the clock read 8:35, I had to get up. I rolled out of bed, went over to my curtains, and opened them to let the light in. There’s something about natural light that is so peaceful to me. I wish I could take my classes outside, but they are in lecture halls inside, with barely any windows, unfortunately. However, I can do my homework in the courtyard! That is something to look forward to. Luckily, class ends for me at 2 pm today. I am only taking three this semester, so I can have time to be with my horse instead of being drowned by homework all the time. 

After I made my bed, I walked over to my desk chair, where I put my clothes for the day. It’s an off-white baby T-shirt, black jeans with small rips, and white high-tops. I quickly put my outfit on and got started on my morning routine. Sitting down on my desk chair, I put on my LED mirror (I use my desk as both a workspace and a vanity) and started my skincare. Once done, I brushed my hair and put it back into a loose braid. Rummaging through my makeup drawer, I eventually find which products I want to use and put a small amount on. I don’t put on a lot of makeup in general, but I put an even smaller amount on if I know I’m going to the barn after my classes end. After grabbing my jewelry and school bag, I leave my room and head downstairs for breakfast. 

“Buenos dias, hija!” my mami said to me when I walked into the kitchen. “Hola mami!” I replied as I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and headed to the fridge. I wanted to make a strawberry banana smoothie before I left for school. I grabbed all the things I needed to make it and headed over to the corner of the kitchen counter where the blender was. After putting all the ingredients in there, I clicked the smoothie button and watched all the fruit flow together. While waiting for it to be done, I reached into my back pocket and put on my horseshoe necklace. 

“You know your papi wanted to give that to you on your 16th birthday, right? He was so happy when you fell in love with horses, he wanted you to have something to wear to remind you of them.” mami said as she walked to stand next to me. He wanted to give it to me but never had a chance to. “Of course I know, mami, how could I forget? It was such a special moment for me. It actually reminds me more of him than it does horses.” I reply with a sad smile. “Oh, he loved you so much, hija. I hope you know that.” she replied with a sigh. “Yes, mami, I know.” I say with a sigh as I turn off the blender and open the lid. 

“What’s wrong Ana? I can see it in your face.” My mami says as she opens the cabinet to hand me a glass. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s hard for me to talk about my love for Papi, when Alexia loved him so much.” I say as I pour the smoothie in my glass. “Hija, we all loved him so much. Just because Papi introduced Ale to futbol, doesn’t mean you or Alba’s love for him is any less.” Mami replies as she kisses my cheek. I smile and sit down at the kitchen island and drink my smoothie as I scroll through social media. Of course I see the videos of the Barcelona girls training and prepping for the match against Deportivo this Saturday. It’s an away match, so I don’t think I will go. I’m not sure that I will come to any of her matches in the near future. Our sisterly bond hasn’t been the greatest as of late, she’s been very cold towards me, and I don’t know why. However, Alba and I are good as can be. 

Once I finished my smoothie, I went to the sink to wash the glass. I gathered my things together and kissed my mami goodbye. I walked down the porch steps, got in my car, and drove to another day of university. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is my first fic out on here! Thank you so much for reading; if you did, let me know what you think! Also, big thanks to my bestie @foxy-2 for encouraging me to post this fic!

[i-draw-desna]

So I'm a bit autistic guys, obviously, and I've always wanted to make a 3d version of water tribe places. On one hand I need practice modelling 3d spaces, rather than just humanoids, and I feel like a place like the water tribe would be best to start with, its mostly ice and snow, and I really like it so I'll actually do it. I decided to start with the throne room in the Northern Water Tribe, its great to start because its not too much to begin with, and I can put my E+D models in there for fun! I want to get the size right so I go into blender and try to measure it out with this image as an example:

I decided also to sift through screenshots to see how characters measure up to the chair (From the base to the bottom of the insignia is like 6 feet just about) I check every time this room shows up in book 2 and 3, the chair changes sizes, but that's easy to explain, clearly the twins got their own, and its about the same size.

I even found a reverse shot of the same room, oh happy days! I innocently thought.

NOW, NOTE THE WINDOWS BEHIND ZUKO AND TONRAQ. They made me think most likely that that is the entrance of the northern palace. I look through screenshots from the last airbender to get a closer look. Shown here:

I thought "That's strange, the palace looks like its WAY BIGGER than that actually" I sift through more AtLA screenshots and find the same throne room, perfect! I can see more details this way, except... Wait...

Guys when I saw this I thought I had lost it. I thought, maybe I'm just imagining things. But... this screenshot matches up perfectly with the one in Korra. EXCEPT ONE GLARING ISSUE. ITS LIKE 3 TIMES LARGER !! Look at them side by side.

Not only that but when you compare the steps on both these screenshots it looks CRAZY!!!

ARE THEY ANTS?!

If I edit the images to make someone on the AtLA side sit on the throne of the Korra side, I got this lovely image:

Now that's more like it. That little dudes just about as short as me in real life. BUT WHY THOUGH?! RIGHT?! WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON HERE?! I have theories... Theory 1: they fucked up the scaling in book 2 by mistake but couldn't just take it back and pretend it never happened in the same series. I mean the Korra ver is a direct repaint of the AtLA ver, most likely they got the reference images without indication of scale ?? BUT THAT THEORY IS BORING. Theory 2: the original throne room was repurposed, and they built a miniature version for the chief that came before Unalaq, which would perfectly fit into my other theory of who he is. Theory 3: People in the avatar world are GROWING. Like how there was once giant mega-fauna in our world due to the sun's radiation, but in reverse.

Theory 4: (An extension of theory 2) There's a secret smaller palace that we keep seeing in Korra. The original is inaccessible for whatever reason.

I don't know, though, I guess I'll figure it out. I like it bigger. It just makes more sense.

[nekropsii]

Atomic Ask Bomb... 2!!

Hello, all! We are back in the mines immediately, because you all love me and my inbox so much. I still have 200+ more asks to sort through after this and that is not hyperbole!! Oops!!

Content Warning: Long, and Cronus is There.

You can be both. I am both. I think Terezi's easily in the Top 3 of Best Written Homestuck Characters, no competition. AND she compels me.

Mituna Fans and Terezi Fans flocking together like how Gays and Lesbians are supposed to.

------

He doesn't have a Recuperacoon. He doesn't NEED a Recuperacoon. Who needs a Recuperacoon when you have a bathtub? You pile a bunch of slime in there, and then you can pop the drain open in the morning and take a shower right there where you just got up. It's convenient. And not at all sad. It's not sad guys.

Let's pretend for a moment that either Vantas would have regular bathing habits for the sake of this joke.

------

Even if that's the case, it really doesn't change anything. Insecurity doesn't justify literal actual sexual harassment and sexual assault. What?

People will do anything to excuse random shitty men for being shitty. Sympathy is the favorite weapon in Fandom Misogyny's arsenal. So often will fans pull some random bullshit out of their ass just to say that it's fine that a male character is abusive, especially if it's to women, because "He's Sad", so he should never face criticism or punishment for his actions.

We should all start putting people in blenders. We've let these arguments go on long enough. People are far too bold in their abuse apologia. We need to kill them.

------

Yeah. Like, he interests me a lot, he's one of the characters I take the most interest in out of all of the Alpha Trolls. I literally write sov!Cronus. I hate his guts, though. It really is just that easy to be a fan of a character and also fucking hate them. Not once have I ever made an excuse for him. The goal Hussie set out for when writing him was making him inexcusable and irredeemable, down to Cronus literally knowing what he's doing is bad and hurts people, and simply just not caring.

Cronus is genuinely fucking evil. That's the whole point. If you make him misunderstood, if you make him mean well, if you make him lack self awareness, if you make him sympathetic, if you give him any redeeming qualities at all... You are missing the point completely. If you want a sympathetic asshole character, you want Vriska. The point of Cronus is that he's The Worst Character In Homestuck, and that he has zero redeeming qualities and trying to fix him or redeem him is a Hopeless venture. He is beyond saving. Don't you dare even think about trying - to try to make him palatable is to erase Violent Bigotry, Incest, and Child Sexual Abuse. Just don't. Enjoy him as he is, do NOT defang him.

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He truly is the worst! I think we should explode all depictions of fanon!Cronus. Forever.

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Yeah, there's a huge reason why I do not say I'm a fan of Cronus or call him a favorite character of mine or anything. It projects a certain... Image. The wrong one. There's just such a strong precedent for anyone saying they're a Cronus Fan or calling him their Favorite Character being a person who just completely fucking ignores everything about him, or even pardons it, saying it's fine, actually, because He's Sad, or that it's Not That Bad, actually. I can't stand it.

I'm aware there are Cronus Fans who are totally normal, but I cannot help but immediately be wary of them, or flinch for a moment even when they offer the reassurance that they know better. It's a natural response, having been here for around a decade and having been a Mituna Fan the whole time.

Liking characters who are terrible people is fine. Based, even, in some cases. But... It's truly difficult with Cronus, because so much of that fanbase relies on excusing/minimizing/condoning abuse and bigotry. I don't have any qualms with people liking characters that suck, but when a fanbase for a character is so heavily focused on pretending that character isn't a horrible, terrible, awful person who abuses people - even children, even people they're related to, even children that they're related to - for nothing but their own sexual gain... I start having issues. That sets a pretty dangerous precedent, to me.

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It's crazy to me how so much of the apologism is because he's hot. Because he literally isn't. You all have terrible taste.

Let's all appreciate for a moment just how fucking ugly he is. The fan art is lying so bad. He needs a haircut. His shirt doesn't fit him, and honestly looks like women's clothes - you know those women's shirts that have the sleeves that stop halfway down the damn shoulder? He looks like a 16 year old. He's so skinny, and his shoulders are so... rounded and small - which are fine traits to have, but literally every piece of fanart portrays him as broad-shouldered and ripped when the literal opposite is true. You just know he has too much product in his hair. His actual sprite is even worse.

The way his fly doesn't even go all the way up. The way his hair clips into his face. The way he's slightly yellow for literally no reason. The shitty belt. This fucking sucks. He's so ugly. He isn't even hot.

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Mituna having Memory Loss as a result of his TBI is literally a myth invented by Cronus to emotionally manipulate Mituna and perpetuated by Cronus Fans. I think if they were friends in the past, Cronus's actions would be worse, actually.

Could you imagine getting sad that your friend doesn't remember you because of a Traumatic Brain Injury, and your response to this sadness is to abuse and sexually assault them on the regular? What, is that Just Bro Things now? Cronus literally says he targets Mituna because he thinks he can get away with it due to his struggles with communication. The thing about them being buddies in the past was one of his trademark Lies. Because he is known to do that, specifically to manipulate people. Because he is known to manipulate people. Emotionally. Because he is abusive. And terrible. And not redeemable. This isn't rocket science! It isn't rocket science to say that pushing the fault of Mituna's abuse onto Mituna is Victim-Blaming!

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Positively fucking ridiculous that so many people did not recognize their romance within the comic. If they were boys, there'd be no god damn question about it. It'd be up there in everyone's OTP list alongside DaveKat.

I think they're adorable. They're one of my favorite pairings.

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It's great in the source comic, especially during earlier phases of its existence, but the quality deprecates drastically the further you get from that point. I hate it in Fanon and in Dub/Post-Canon.

It's a great off-screen pairing for a lot of lore reasons - namely it being great to let Dave slowly allow himself to love and be loved in private, with no fear of eyes on him. He's never really been able to have privacy before, with all the cameras and eyes on him all the time, and he's never been able to really let his guard down and be vulnerable. He's never been able to love and be loved, safely. I ultimately think they should've kept their relationship mostly private, even after Dave's recovered quite a bit, because sometimes having something just for yourself without that need to perform it is healing in itself. Mental health maintenance.

In Fanon, it seems like pretty standard yaoi, though. Boring. Tired. Literally everywhere. Voyeuristic as always.

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Thank you! My Inbox generally really isn't that bad at all, honestly! Most people are pretty cordial! Anon Hate for me is pretty rare. Thankfully, the Delete Ask button exists, so I don't have to worry about those Anons for very long, lol.

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I hate to say this, but back in my day, plenty of people actually did do that. In fact, people only knowing Homestuck through fan material and then still calling themselves a fan is a big reason why old Homestuck fanon was so bad and so far off the mark!

I have a name for those kinds of fans, because it was such a frequent occurrence it begged for a title. I call them Secondaries. Like "Secondary Source"!

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World's most based triad, I think. Should be real. It's real to me.

7H15 15 MY 91RLFR13NF, L47UL4. 4DN 7H51 15 7UL45 9R1LFR13ND, P0RR1M.

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I think everyone should start watching actual horror movies. I think these people should watch Re-Animator and Bride of Re-Animator. I think this would fix the fandom, because a lot of people are just posting about horror movies without realizing they're posting about horror movies. Go watch a horror movie. They even have more and, frankly, more interesting gay representation than... Whatever Dirk and Jake have going on. Sorry.

If you're a gay man, get some hair on your chest and watch a bunch of horror movies. There's more in this life than anime twinks and skinny white pixel men. There's BlackRom Old Man Pet Play (The Lighthouse, 2019), there's Tormented Huge Dirty Bear (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, 2006), there's The Bisexual Psychological Torture + Betrayal Chamber (Saw, 2004), there's Dysfunctional Gay Marriage Disputes (Re-Animator, 1985, Bride of Re-Animator, 1990). And way more other ones than I can really list. Expand your horizons.

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Not much. It's a bit mysterious. Here's what Aranea had to say about Mituna in general, which gives us most of the crumbs we have:

The Heir of Doom was once a powerful psionic. He had much to say when it came to warning us a8out the path of doom and destruction we were all headed for, 8ut no one took him very seriously. 8ut one day he lost all those abilities when he 8adly overexerted himself. It's hard to get any specifics from him, 8ut indications are that he applied every last 8it of energy he had toward some great act of heroism, saving us all from some looming threat. Not only did his exertion permanently 8urn out his psychic a8ilities, 8ut it left him somewhat... er. Incoherent. The entire incident is shrouded in mystery. From his limited and scattered accounts of what happened, it seems very likely that Kurloz was with him at the time, as the only eye witness. And of course it's impossi8le to get any relia8le information out of him. I guess we may never know, sadly.

This does say quite a lot, but not really anything specific. We've got some stuff about how he's the session's Cassandra, the fact that the GAoH was NOT an accident (this is the misconception that pisses me off the most, I think - I hate when people call it an accident), the fact that he was protecting everyone from something... The fact that he DOES remember it, the fact that Kurloz was there, as the only eye witness, and refuses to talk about it.

It leaves plenty of room for speculation. A little too much room for me, honestly, but that's fine, I'm not really pressed about it.

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[ctommyisnt]

Hi! I saw you asking for fic requests, Il take any soft cuddly gem or bdubs fics :3. Or both I love bdubs and I like gem and I’m big fan of just soft stuff :3. If that’s not your style you can also just put them trough a blender and make them suffer :).

So when I started this, originally I had said ‘I like to make them suffer but I’m feeling soft rn!’ But it turns out I did need Gem to suffer a little bit. We’ve all been there girl. Enjoy!

Getting back to hermitcraft after a life game was not something Gem was used to yet. It didn’t really sink in until a few days after returning.

The after parties took most of the following day, and the day after that was meant for nursing hangovers and sleeping for as many consecutive hours as possible after being in a constant adrenaline rush. This one lasted eight days and she could already tell she’d need twice that to recover.

Gem wasn’t one to stay down, though, and once she got over the splitting headache after the uncountable drinks they’d split, she picked up decorating her base where she left off.

Or maybe she was distracting herself.

She started small with pruning plants and keeping up the base, adding bushes and lights where she thought necessary. But when the nagging cloud of doubt kept up she started bigger projects. Adding more houses, working on the walls of the castle, completely stocking her shop to the point where she didn’t have any more room to put stuff.

And yet the feeling wouldn’t go away.

“Hey Gem, haven’t seen you in awhile,” Pearl said, letting herself into the build Gem was working on. She had been trying to straighten a painting for the last five minutes.

Gem laughed breathily, “yeah, yeah, just keeping myself busy, yknow how it is.”

“I haven’t seen you at dye-duction since you got back, you love that game.”

“Trying to get business?” Gem accused, trying to brush off the worry, still messing with the painting.

“Gem.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just wanted to perfect my base. I’m getting closer to finishing than I expected.” She moved the painting again, this time hitting it and whiting around. Now she was facing Pearl, which was almost worse based on the raised eyebrow she was giving her.

“Gem, seriously, what’s up. You’ve hardly talked to anyone since the games ended. Did something happen?” She asked, stepping closer to gem to put a hand on her shoulder.

Gem shrugged, “nothing happened, absolutely nothing,” she continued.

Pearl pursed her lips, “nothing happened…” she murmured, “oh- are you upset you lost?”

Gem shrugged the hand off of her and took a few steps back, “no, I’m not. Joel won and I’m so happy for him, and everyone did amazing, and it was such a fun experience and I always enjoy myself. It doesn’t matter that I lost.”

Pearl hummed, “but…” she lead.

“But nothing! I tried my hardest, and there was nothing I could’ve done. I’m not a sore loser, I never have been.”

Pearl wrapped her in a hug unexpectedly. Gen tensed, but it didn’t take long before she gave in and turned around to hug pearl back, letting herself be small in her arms. “I just-“ she sniffled, “I really wanted to win, and I’m disappointed in myself.” She cried softly on pearl, and she gently led the two of them to the loveseat and sat her down she Gem could properly cry.

“Oh Gem, you know it’s okay to be sad. It’s never fun to lose.” She murmured.

Gem hiccuped, “I’m just normally fine. Normally I don’t care because what does it matter. I don’t know why this hurts more than everything else.”

“Sometimes you don’t realize how much something means to you until you don’t get it.” She carded her fingers through Gem’s curls, “it’s not wrong to feel like that.”

Gem let herself finish crying, still tucked in Pearl’s arms. She felt so safe in her hold and being able to be completely wrapped up in her arms.

“Feeling better?” Pearl asked when Gem finally quieted. She nodded, scooting herself up to be a bit more stable while still being held.

“Thanks Pearl,” she murmured, “I don’t know why I did that. I didn’t think I was that upset.”

“You just needed to let yourself process. Must’ve been holding it all in.” She laughed gently, squeezing Gem even more. “You can always come to me if you need a good cry.”

Gem smiled, and settled herself in. Pearls cheek resting on the top of her head and her legs tucked up comfortably. She wouldn’t have gotten up for anything.