#i'm sad out of nowhere

[cummienism]

hmmmmmm

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[fandomfrolics]

1x10 || 3x01

[iwasbored777]

Me: Why are people obsessed with girlfriends wearing their boyfriends' clothes it's cute but not that cute it's overrated it's not that big of a deal

Also me when Gwen walked out wearing Miles' jacket:

[blackjackkent]

Fresh Meat

Pairing: Karlach/Tav (at end of fic) Characters: Karlach, Florenta the Garroter, Custom Male Tav (Hector Carlisle) Rating: G Warnings: Dark Themes Descriptors: Flashback, Military Backstory, Dark, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy/Bittersweet Ending Chapter Word Count: 2.2k Chapter Setting: Ten years pre-game, then early Act 3

Summary: 

Memories of a young Karlach's first days in Zariel's army.

This fic is a character study investigation of some of Karlach's experiences in Avernus, inspired by this gorgeous and devastating piece of art by @featherwurm. Please go check them out; their Karlach-related art is some of my favorite in the fandom. <3

The ending of the fic is also a response to a prompt from @astreamofstars from this ask meme.

read on ao3 | send me fic requests!

-----

Sweat trickles down her spine, pools at the base of her neck. It's so fucking hot in Avernus, like being buried in the depths of a coal fire. It matches the burning in her chest, the boiling in her guts. She fidgets her weight from one leg to the other, back and forth, as if that’d somehow ease the volcanic pressure behind each pneumatic pulse of molten blood in her veins. 

“I said ATTENTION!” Legate Jastor pauses in his inspection of his troops and halts in front of her, bellowing in her face. The pit fiend’s pale red eyes are filled with disdainful loathing. “I don't care if you’re Zariel's new pet, Cliffgate; you'll hold still when you're told!” He lifts a hand and cuffs her in a vicious backhand slap across the face. 

She squeezes her eyes shut, forcing herself not to react to the pain. Easier than it should be, really, because everything else hurts too. Her chest hurts and her head hurts. The exhaust vents along her shoulders burn with searing chemical heat. The bruising sting of the slap disappears, swallowed up by the inferno. 

“Yes, sir,” she grinds out. 

This isn't real, some part of her brain still stubbornly insists. No fucking way this is real. I'm dreaming. Gonna wake up any second and go see Gortash and laugh - hey, boss, you'll never guess the shit I dreamed you did to me!

It can't be real, that he betrayed her, after everything they've been through together. It can't be real that she’s on another plane in the fires of the Hells themselves. It can't be real that she met the Archdevil of Avernus, and the bitch cut out her heart.

It can't be real. It can't be real. It can't be real. It's not real. 

She opens her eyes again and stares into Jastor's smirking, grotesque face. His breath stinks of brimstone as he laughs. “Fidgety little fuck, aren't you, Dart? We'll fix that soon enough.”

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[kennyomegasweave]

Taem softly but firmly turned down all of Yak's flirting attempts and, quite literally, skipped over to Ohm when he picked her up at the gym. But in the span of two episodes it turns out she actually did have feelings for Yak and Ohm is a nasty creep?

[swordsonnet]

sorry but saying that the accessibility needs of mentally disabled people are just preferences or about "comfort" is blatantly incorrect. if i can't enter a building because the bright lights and loud noises would send me into a meltdown, then i can't enter the building, and that's not less important than me not being able to enter a building because it's not wheelchair accessible. if you genuinely think that mentally disabled people aren't really struggling, and that it's okay to mock their very real concerns, then that just shows that you've been refusing to listen to their experiences. do better or shut the fuck up.

[daisychainsandbowties]

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: T

Summary:

what if Ava and Beatrice were in love and there were also pokémon?

///

There was a ghost in the walls.

The first night it happened, Ava was half-asleep, staring down at the red and grey walkie-talkie stowed in the palm of her tired hand. She’d been doing physiotherapy all day – trying to make fists, to stretch her palm wide and scrunch it tight – and the bones themselves ached where they rested against sweat-slicked plastic.

It was just a scratching, at first, like something sharp against the plaster on the inside of the walls, almost smothered under the shifting of bodies in the rooms on either side of Ava’s. Lost, almost, to the slow tap, tap, tap of saline droplets slithering through her IV, the crinkle of the canula tape as her hand shifted very slightly, sending starbursts of nerve pain up into her shoulder.

Her breath, which wisped lonesomely up into the corner of the room she shared with a vase of drooping flowers, a creaky wheelchair, and a dozen posters tacked into the walls, bearing images of pokémon frozen, captured in the only way Ava would ever be able to have them.

(this isn’t true, but it is a fear she carries in her chest at night especially when she can forget about the doctors telling her that soon, soon, soon they’ll fly that surgeon over from the Kanto region. soon she’ll be shuffling stiffly through the hallways on her crutches and in possession of more than her hands)

(these things are easy to forget in the dark)

That first night, the scraping kept on for ten minutes before fading, and the walkie talkie never erupted with sound, so Ava slept. When she woke, it seemed like something she might have made up.

But then, two days later, when the moon sat low and bright in the sky and Ava sat up watching it leak across the floorboards, the sound came again. More concerted this time, unmistakable.

It seemed to come from one specific part of the wall, buttressed between a poster of a Dragonite and a faded photograph of a girl with a Rockruff fighting to escape from her arms. Ava smiled at it, despite the stab of fear that accompanied the sound of something in the wall.

(it’s easy to be afraid at night. that doesn’t make her a coward)

Ava stared at that spot and almost, almost ventured to say something before it faded, very suddenly. As though started away by her hesitation.

She came to visit the next morning – her, a word that seemed to linger in perpetual italics whenever she stood in the room, in the doorway with her mussed-up hair and her face noticeably marked with a fresh cut, a fresh bruise, a fresh sign of the fool’s errand Ava had sent her on.

“Hey stranger,” Ava had said, watching her drop her backpack by the door, festooned in rainbow pins, a trans badge she’d bought herself and affixed onto one of the flea-bitten straps with a look of feverish concentration.

“I don’t really know,” she’d admitted, when Ava asked what it meant.

“Okay,” Ava had said, and then flexed her fingers in a rhythm that meant she wanted to reach out, to hold.

Beatrice, as she let her bag thunk onto the ground, swinging the door shut behind her, raised an eyebrow in mock-offence, “I’ve only been gone a week!”

It was hard to be angry at her, to begrudge her the calluses on her hands, the way her shoulders had filled out even more in the past year, but still.

read on ao3

[thebirdandhersong]

I think the problem. the problem is that I have always been afraid of not being invited into the inner circle. and am always wanting to be part of the inner circle. inner circle being the circle of love and companionship and communion. of course being a TCK and a bit of a sheltered homeschooled oddball child has nudged this further along over the years. but I didn't realise how STRONG that desire still burned. to actually be wanted.

[impala-dreamer]

is this too romantic? am I going too far? is there any other way to write romance than all in, all encompassing, perfectly magical? no. this is fine.

[lengthy-artery]

.

[steelthroat]

My mum just called my and told me that my aunt, who has become unexpectedly bigoted these last 2 years, told her:

"Oh [Zero] has so many girl friends what if [It] is a lesbian?"

(My mum told her that even if I were, I am an adult, and it's not hers my aunt's business. So she gets her "cool mum" mug this year)

But the thing I don't get is...

Lady... I've never been in the closet. Everyone knows I fancy women. Like- I have never hidden the fact that I am pan since I was 13.

Like, lmao, she was once speculating about another cousin's sexuality in front of other relatives, and I stepped in saying "you don't have to look for the gay nephew when you have me"

Jfc it's not nice speculating about anyone's sexuality in their absence and in front of other relatives especially. Idk if that cousin is queer or not but I won't stand by and have them either outed or put in a tough spot because that aunt is stupid

Oh and that was after she had asked me "why don't you shave the hair on your legs? Don't people say anything to you?"

And i said, "Because I don't care, and if someone says anything, I will ignore them :D"

Dude. I have NEVER been in the closet. I will never be in the closet, I ALSO present queer... ffs I've been wearing the same rainbow bandana around my wrist since 2019.

I don't get how people even have to wonder about my identity when I've NEVER been ambiguous about it.

I TELL PEOPLE I AM QUEER THEY FORGET??? And then ask my mum if I'm queer a month later????? I can't make this shit up, man.

[angelicgarnet]

i wish men could be like. normal

[ilovereadingandstuff]

bkdks....is this the end?

[chappell-roans]

i preface this by saying, use the block button liberally, who gives a fuck, i don't take it personally (unless it's genuinely personal, which it rarely is lol) and neither should you. but it is wild when a blog i've never heard of has me blocked.

[sskk-manifesto]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )