#i'm strangely curious but i don't like jam

[intheghoulden]

I'm a sucker for a ghoul pile. What if the pack's weekly cuddle session leads Phantom to realize they have a crush on Mountain?

this is actually so good i love you anon

newbie phantom joins the cuddle pile and mountain welcomes him with open arms

(idk how good this is or if this is what you wanted but i tried)

Phantom knew the weekly cuddle pile was today, but he was planning on avoiding it to the best of his ability.

he knew the pack weren't mean, but he was worried he'd be rejected by them. that he'd try to join and they'd tell him to leave.

so to avoid the rejection, he simply wouldn't go.

well, that was at least his plan.

but he made the mistake of walking right past the common room going to his own bedroom.

"Phantom, why don't you join us this time?" a low voice Phantom recognised as Mountain's called to him.

he stopped in his tracks, hesitating before poking his head through the door to see the cuddle pile.

it was a spagetthi mess of ghouls, and Phantom could hardle tell where one ghoul ended and the other started.

Cumulus was cuddled with her head on Dewdrop's chest, purring contently at his natural warmth. Rain had his head in Aurora's lap, who carded her fingers absentmindedly through his dark curls. Aurora herself was back-to-chest with Swiss, who was resting his head on hers and was fast asleep. Cirrus was spread out, having a part of her body on every ghoul and snoring away; a hand on Rain's leg, a foot rest on Aether's stomach, her knee jammed into Dew's ribs.

it was a confusing mess that somehow looked incredibly comfortable.

Mountain was noticeably to the side, included but not commited. he had a hand on Aether's shoulder from where the quint ghoul was laying, but he wasn't as involved as the others.

Phantom quickly took in the scene before him before giving Mountain an awkward, crooked tooth smile.

"it's alright, i don't want to intrude. maybe next time?"

Phantom turned to leave before Mountain spoke again.

"please join us? at least to come cuddle with me."

with me?

the words had a strange affect on him, like quintessence from a practicing kit; something new and warm and unknown. weak enough to where your brain is still functioning but strong enough to draw you in.

and before Phantom realised it, he was walking into the common room and looking for his place in the mess of limbs.

Mountain, without hesitation, shifted over, leaving a perfectly Phantom sized space between him and Dew.

Phantom wriggled his way in, still awkward as ever.

everyone shifted to allow him his own place in the chaos. Dew rested a head on his shoulder, Rain's legs lifted and laid over Phantom's like a leg rest, and Cirrus included him in her contact with everyone by wrapping her tail around his calf.

Mountain gave Phantom a curious look, "feeling comfortable?"

"yeah, this is nice. thank you," Phantom yawned and settled in, not leaning against anyone for fear of disturbing them.

that is until Mountain squirmed his way closer, sneaking his arms around Phantom's waist and resting his head on his chest.

in that same warm voice as before, Mountain whispered, "is this ok?"

from the look in Mountain's eyes, Phantom knew that he was doing this on purpose. the warmth in his cheeks and then hammering of his heart and the melting of his mind was all the reaction Mountain was trying to get.

"yeah, it's ok."

as Mountain settled, giving a big yawn before closing his eyes, Phantom felt accepted into the pack officially.

and he also felt like he wasn't going to get a wink of sleep while Mountain was so close.

[21wanderer]

Seat taken.

It had been a rough day at work, it's been long since I remember being so physically exhausted from work, my feet were aching, but if I had hoped that I could have a sit in the bus on my way home, I was disappointed.

All the seats were taken, usually I'd always get a spot, but today it was particularly crowded, and the bus hadn't even driven through the most busy part of the city yet. So I had to stand along with many others, dreading how crowded this bus was going to be by the time it came to the central station.

I stood in the back aisle with at least five other people. I looked about, hoping to see someone getting ready to get up, but again I was disappointed. And I probably wasn’t the person, who would need a seat the most, but today I certainly felt like it.

On one of the seats next to the aisle sat a young man, I tried not to stare too much at him, which was difficult as he was very handsome. Broad shoulders, leather jacket, tight jeans, slick hair. You could tell he had a good, strong body under those clothes. And while it was going to be a slightly uncomfortable ride, I at least had something pretty to look at… As long as I didn’t look like, I was looking. But right now, I’d much rather have his seat, than having him on the bus.

The bus began to slow down.

"Then why don't you take it?!" The voice came out of nowhere, and I flinched. I looked around, but nobody near seemed to have noticed anything, nor could I see who could have said that, they'd have to have been right next to my ear. But everywhere I looked, people’s gazes were turned away.

I then began to notice something strange, the bus had been standing still for an unusually long period of time, I turned and tried looking out the front window through the crowd in front of me. We were on the road, not at a bus stop as I had assumed, but the cars in front were not moving either... but it wasn't a traffic jam. Then I also noticed how quiet the bus had gotten, seemingly nothing moved in here as well.

A woman in her sixties sitting on the opposite side were watching a video on her phone, I looked a bit closer on her screen, the video was clearly meant to be playing, but it wasn't, and the woman didn't seem to notice. Then I also noticed, that she wasn't blinking at all.

Time had frozen around me, and all of a sudden I began to feel trapped. The last thing I did was to press 'Stop' on every single stop button within my reach. Not a single one responded. Then I began to wonder about what that voice had said... Why don't I take the seat?

At first I was a bit cautious, I gently brushed my hand across the man's shoulder, feeling the smooth leather covering it. If time had started flowing right now, I might have been able to make an excuse, but nothing happened.

I then brushed a hand on his thigh, again no reaction whatsoever. He was just staring at nothing. Then I decided to try, what the voice had told me. Carefully I grabbed his shoulder and thigh, or rather just his jacket and jeans and attempted to lift him.

It was surprisingly easy, it was like he weighed next to nothing, I lifted him from the seat, just by pinching his clothes. I'm pretty sure, that would normally be impossible to do, it was like, he was a giant rag doll. Before lifting him all the way out of his seat, I let go, and he slumped back again, as if nothing had happened.

Then an idea came to me... If time began to flow now, I don't think, I would be able to make any valid excuse. I carefully placed my bag on the floor and stuffed my phone, travel card and keys into it. I kept my eyes on him to see, if he, or anything else for that matter, began to move... But still nothing interesting happened.

I wasn't sure this would work, but I was genuinely curious of, what was going on in this bus. I mean, I could just have taken his seat and then everything would resume to normal... I assumed. But maybe, just maybe, I could take this a step further.

I sat on the young man's lap, expecting him to wake up immediately from his trance and put me in the most embarrassing moment of my life. But he didn't seem to notice me at all, even though he was looking straight at me.

I started to grind myself down on his lap, and now I could feel myself getting aroused, when I noticed I was sinking. Our legs had partially melted together... It was working!

Aligning my feet with his, I began to sink further into his legs and soon I could only see one pair of feet, they weren't mine, but they moved, as if they were. I could now even feel my butt on the bus seat.

I leant back against his chest, I unzipped his jacket, so I could ease my way in much more comfortably. I pressed my own torso against his, twisting and turning as I sank deeper into his body. I aligned my arms with his, and I could feel the muscles tightening, as I slowly gained control of them.

From the neck and down I had completely merged with this guy, I could feel his strength, his endurance, his heartbeat, all these aspects and more that now belonged to me. And just to make sure... I stretched my new impressive arms over my head, they responded, just like they were mine... but then again, they were now.

I zipped the jacket again, my jacket, it felt so indescribably good to have this body. In the motionless bus, I could hear every tiny creak the leather made with every little move I made. I could see my chest rise and fall with my every breath. Never had I imagine to have pecs like that.

Now it was time to complete this. I lifted my big muscly arms, which were now completely under my control. One hand I placed on my forehead, the other on the back of his head. Then I just pressed. I could feel his nose poking me, but soon that feeling disappeared, as my head sunk back into his, his skin, flesh and bones opening up for me, so I could complete, what I had started.

It was dark for a moment. Then I felt the skin of his forehead creeping under my fingertips. Then I opened my eyes. I had done it. The body was mine... I can't describe how good I felt... Elation, ecstasy, euphoria.

With great satisfaction I leant back into my seat, as the bus began to move again, and the noise around me began to re-emerge. I pulled my new phone out of my new jeans' pocket and looked at the display. No time had passed at all... How curious...

The phone scanned my face and unlocked, mistaken me for its actual owner. Then again it's just a piece of technology, easily fooled. The question is, would I be able to fool all those around me? Could I become him in more than just appearance? Only time would tell.

Nobody apparently noticed that a passenger on the bus had just disappeared, but I couldn't really be bothered to care. I picked up my old bag from the floor and placed it on my lap. But only for a few minutes. The 'Stop' signs were now flashing red on the displays throughout the bus. I guess, that was my work, but the timing was perfect.

I did have a feeling, I was meant to get off at the next stop. Maybe that means, that I'm starting to think like this guy. The bus began to decelerate and I got up from my seat leaving it vacant for someone else. I felt fully rested and relaxed. I eased my way past the other passengers, not as easy with my new broader shoulders.

The air outside was cool and refreshing. I popped the collar on my jacket and pulled my bag over my shoulders, and watched the bus disappear into the traffic. I smiled to myself, this was a feeling of satisfaction, I never thought possible. What a nice ride.

[frenchly-anxious]

Kane Pixels is a genius at whatever his art might be called. Because horror is usually, like, gory ways to die that I didn't need to know could happen, stupid protagonists making stupid decisions so the stupid plot can happen, horrible things that I don't want to think about, jumpscares whose only purpose is to cheaply make something scary, etc.

Kane Pixels does none of that. Yet I cannot begin to put into words the fear, the dread, the impending feeling of doom that each of his videos brings me. And strangely enough, the wonderful and unstoppable fascination that grips me every time.

Until Kane Pixels, I never had to physically distance myself from a video in which NOTHING happens. No scary music, no jumpscare, no horrible creature, no blood, no immediate threat.

Guys. His latest video could almost be entirely pitched as: a man walks down a very long stairway.

It's stupid.

It's not scary.

I'm barely four minutes in and I had to stop at least three times because it was too much for me.

What was too much? I'm not sure. The atmosphere? The infinite possibilities of what could happen? The strange feeling that something might go wrong, while nothing really hints at anything that could go wrong? How real and casual it looks? The "hell no" I felt at first glance when that stairway appeared? Maybe all of the above. Maybe none.

The craziest is, despite all that, I WANT to know what happens next, and I keep coming back to it until I watch the whole thing. Every time.

And you know what, in any other circumstances, you'd need a pretty fucked up amount of money to convince me to watch horror for a long period of time — movie, series, video game, whatever. I don't like it, I don't see the point of it, I have a brain that more often than not gets stuck on "Can you imagine what it would actually feel like? 'Cause apparently I can and I will share this thought with you!" So yeah, horror is not my jam.

But I keep coming back to his videos because I'm so curious. I'm not even sure this qualify as "horror." It feels like so much more than that. His storytelling skills are ridiculous. He doesn't give us much. There's no need for complex elements. The thing is, it somehow awakens an old instinct from somewhere deep into my brain that tells me "run run run, something's off, this isn't right, save your life", while another part of my brain gets so excited, because "that's fascinating, I NEED to figure out whatever this is, whatever it means and how it happened."

His series about the Backrooms is insane, but his other random stuff is also beyond words.

[maleyanderecafe]

A Cry for Help(Visual Novel)

Created by: ItsYaBoi

Genre: Horror

A Cry for Help is a nice game that’s created by the creator of See Thru: Need a Friend which is a pretty nice game that I got to play for the yandere game jam. It’s pretty short, but the yandere in this one is quite different from it’s previous successor (which is cool) and has a lot of fun things going on. This game is r18 though, so please keep that in mind. If you are curious, you can see more information at @stnaf-vn.

The story starts out with the player working at a call center. They immediately have to deal with a bad customer. Working overtime, the player gets a strange call from someone.

Upon accepting the call, the caller, Rook begs the player to help him find his package asking them to type in the number. When the player is unable to pull up the package, Rook panics more, believing that his life will be worthless if he can't find this package.

If the player comforts Rook, he will disconnect afterwards and the player sends out a welfare type of line just in case. Upon going back to their car, the player worries about Rook before meeting him face to face. Continuing to speak with him, the player starts to realizes that this person is Rook as he thanks the player for helping him. You can try to give your contact to him when he asks, which makes him extremely happy.

Rejecting giving him his number will leave him kind of awkward but he seems understanding about it, promising to come back another time.

Bolting to the car will cause Rook to try to chase after you, with Rook pressing his hand against the window and begging for more attention before the player drives away.

Generally rejecting him will lead to a creepy smile seen in the rearview window when the player drives away.

For a relatively short game, I think the way that it's able to put up a sort of eerie atmosphere is pretty good. From the frantic nature that Rook has when he can't find the package to the way he acts when you reassure him, it makes you curious to wonder what was inside it that was so important. It also does seem relatively realistic at some points considering that a lot of stalkers in real life tend to act similarly when they're on their last thread (so to speak) and that having that one person who is nice to them causes them to become obsessed. It is interesting to me that rejecting Rook's attempt to get the player's phone number doesn't seem to make him mad, only a bit awkwardly hesitant and it feels as if there's a bit of delusion with it as well, with him stating that you shouldn't give your phone number to people you don't know. The animations for Rook are pretty nice as well, with small movements to sell his nature.

Rook himself is a pretty well, pathetic yandere (which is my favorite because of course it is). Considering this one act of kindness gets him to find and talk to the player so quickly really is something that I didn't expect. He also seems a bit delusional as I've stated before and from what I can tell, it doesn't seem like he would really cause the player any harm (at least not intentionally), and just that he doesn't really know how to act around them. It does make me wonder what happens when the player does reject him instead of consoling him, considering the face that appears in the rearview window afterwards. However, considering this does seem to be a oneshot game, its probably not something we will find out.

In any case, A Cry for Help is once again another great game with a pretty cool yandere. Again, I think it's nice to be able to have different yandere types for your games and stories (I know it's hard for me to make different yandere types but that's because I'm generally biased for certain types) and the creator did a good job. If you haven't tried out the game, please do! It's pretty fun.

[lamemaster]

Become My Heartache

Pairing: Finrod x Human Reader

Word Count: 2.9k ish

Summary: "Everyone here was so hyped about the elven king that I had to come see you as well. Personally, I just don't think we would match anyway. You're… too, how do I say it… too clean?" You tilted your head as you spoke. "Like nice or pure, maybe… and I…" You rubbed the back of your neck with an embarrassed laugh.

AN: Why did I write this idk. I was watching Rockstar 2011 and could not stop the urge to write it into a fic. Also sufi poetry is my jam. It is so well written and hits the spot. (Dividers by @saradika P.S. you're amazing!)

"Only the purest heartache, ardent pain in one's spirit, can be the source of truest art," your mentor's words ring loud in your ears. "And I don't think you have that. You aren't made for that." It was your last chance to prove yourself as his student, your only chance to show that you too could write like any other love-crazed student of his.

Clutching your satchel close to yourself, you wander the bazaars looking for someone. Specifically, someone who would become the muse of your heartbreak, the one who would lend you words of poetry. You wander the streets in search of the muse of your heartbreak.

And then, you see him: a golden-haired dream surrounded by guards, seated on a magnificent white mare. He strides through the crowded streets of the bazaar, uncaring and seemingly oblivious to the staring eyes around him.

He is an elven royal, one you don't know yet but will soon. Curious, you approach a merchant who has been side-eying you for a while, realizing you should have bought something from him earlier. "Excuse me," you ask the merchant, "Who is that?"

The merchant chuckles and replies, "Ah, you sure do live under a rock. He's the King of elves, from a place called Nathrond…no, Nargrond, I think. They call him Vidri for his wisdom, but his true name of elven kind is Finrod." Grateful for the information, you pick the cheapest-looking item from the stall, thank the merchant, and prepare to complete the last task before embarking on your life as a true writer.

"Come on, y/n, you can do this," you whisper the words of courage to yourself as you step into the gardens frequented by the elven king during his visit. Finrod, a strange elf who, despite being a royal, kept wandering among commoners, is seated there with other elves and some men trying to blend in with the elves but failing to do so. You have braided your hair tighter, dressed in your best tunic, and brought your ever-present satchel as you make your way towards him.

The elven king senses your presence and looks up. "Hi, I am y/n, and I have something to tell you," you say, and the entire group focuses on you as Finrod nods for you to continue. "Not here," you add, not wanting him to easily dismiss you under public pressure. "I don't want prying ears to hear. Let's find a more private place."

"Just speak here, mortal," one of the guards barks menacingly, brandishing a sword. Gathering your courage, you push through the built-up tension and continue speaking, even though Finrod makes no move to follow you. "I think you are really cool and attractive. I like you. Let's court," you declare, and the entire garden falls silent at your audacious statement.

"Pshh HAHHHAAA," a loud laugh rings out from one of the men. "Oh lord, she really…" another man laughs, but you only feel a slight annoyance rather than the heartache or pain you had hoped for. Your only hope lies with the elven lord, who remains speechless.

"I... don't think... I'm sorry, I can't," the words fall from the elf. You try to anticipate the impending heartache. "I... I'm already taken," you don't notice the slight redness gathering on the elven lord's cheeks.

"I guess this is it then. My love shall forever go unanswered. But that's okay, I can simply live by writing," you feel it now. Yes, this must be it. Willing your eyes to grow a little cloudier, you embrace your heartbreak.

"Okay," oops, morphing back into your depression, you take your leave. You ignore the laughing men and elves around you. You don't care for their approval or jest. There is something out there much more important than that. Something within your reach but still out of it. And this king of elves could be the answer.

Musing about it, you rush back to your mentor. He would truly see your pain now, won't he? Slightly messing up your hair and rubbing your eyes, you hurry.

"I thought I told you to leave," your teacher stands in front of you. You pause mid-bite. Your impossibly delicious meal has to wait. Seems like your heartbreak isn't evident to him. "I cannot leave," you try to remember the elven prince... or was he the king? "I cannot bring myself to do it anymore," your gaze drifts to the food that seems to be cooling down with every passing second. "There is no longer a place for me in this world. The one I loved broke my heart," you carefully pluck a bite of bread from your plate. God, the food here is always divine.

You do not notice, however, your mentor's sharp gaze. "Hmm, I was right," you pause at his words. "I was right, you do not deserve to be here. You call this love?" He points an accusatory finger at you. "You call this heartbreak?" The entire hall stops at your teacher's raised voice. "This is no love lost," he pauses with a pained look in his eyes, "If it were love, you wouldn't be here, eating away at these delights. It would be an ache so potent that it would forbid even the thought of swallowing a bite. There is no pain in you, no struggle, and that is why you are not worthy of being here," your pleas fall short of stopping your mentor as he drags you out of the halls of his school.

"Return only when you have learned to respect the pain of others. If not love, at least learn to be honest with yourself," the doors shut in your face, leaving you dumbfounded.

As the only sister to five brothers, you never had to ask for a thing. Your life had been easy. Your father, a rich courtier, allowed you to study and pursue your passion. Your brothers looked out for you. Your sisters-in-law didn't hate you either. You were not bound to an unfair betrothal either. There was truly no pain in your life.

And from what it seems, even the elven king had not done the job. However, the least you can do is apologize to him. If that is the only way to please your mentor, then so be it. You would find a way to discover the pain that would make you worthy of his teachings again.

Finrod's heart beats with a wild rhythm when he sees you walking towards him again, the one who has the courage of mighty mountains, the daring woman who proposed to him.

Even now, Finrod can't help but wonder about your intentions. It wasn't love... not the love that he knew of. It was something else. A curious thought whispered into Finrod's mind at the very sight of you.

You looked different from earlier. Gone was the joyful confidence and suaveness in your eyes. Instead, you appeared sheepish. What had caused this change in the woman who looked at him with determination, despite the scorn and mocking thrown her way?

"I… I must tell you that I am sorry," your words were different from what Finrod expected. "I am not in love with you, nor am I interested in courting you. I hope you weren't offended by my actions," your words left him speechless.

"Then wh—" Finrod began to speak, but you interrupted him.

"Everyone here was so hyped about the elven king that I had to come see you as well. Personally, I just don't think we would match anyway. You're… too, how do I say it… too clean?" You tilted your head as you spoke. "Like nice or pure, maybe… and I…" You rubbed the back of your neck with an embarrassed laugh.

"So you think I'm too naive and pure," Finrod found himself speaking before he could stop. "You judge me based on an elven king who knows nothing of this world?" Finrod leaned in and watched your pupils dilate as he did so. "Well, I will be going to Red Flower tonight. Alone," Finrod emphasized the last word with a feeling of smugness filling him.

You gaped at him open-mouthed. "Red Flower… it's a brothel," you whispered. "I thought elves… I thought you were taken…" Your voice sounded scandalized. Finrod felt a surge of satisfaction at your astounded expression.

And that is how you ended up accompanying the elven king to watch scantily clad women dancing in dimly lit rooms. Worried about leaving the pretty king alone in the red district of the town, you followed him.

And if any of you end up getting a lap dance at the end of the day then it is no one's business. Not that you would ever be able to tell his betrothed who lives in the Blessed Lands.

With the inhibitions of your master and school gone, you found yourself next to the king more often than not. Sometimes teaching him the art of stealing from guarded orchards, while others trying to pat his back as he coughed after the first whip of the pipe. Turns out elves truly cannot smoke, even when they try really hard.

As you ventured into the tavern, the poorly disguised elven king walked behind you. The shallow hood was not doing him any favors, but despite your numerous attempts, the elf simply did not try on the fake beard.

You stared at two frothing mugs of mead, then turned to look at your partner. "Are you sure elves don't fall ill? I don't want to be linked to any harm done to your majesty." Finrod did not answer you with words; instead, he chugged the entire mug.

"Uaaw… Ughh," you didn't even flinch when Finrod gaged next to you. "How?" he questioned your ability to drink without a wince. "I told you it's not your refined and aged wine," you winked at the hidden royal.

"Why do you think God would be found in an effigy made of stone?" You glared at Finrod as you tried to shut him up. He clearly was intent on getting you and himself to the halls of Mandos, as he called it.

"It is merely a belief, a custom. Can you not sound so dismissive right now?" You dragged the king away from the crowd and the looming temple in the background. "People find hope where they can, be it in a stone shaped into their belief," Finrod stared at you, and you tried not to huff. It would really make your nostrils flare in the most unappealing way possible. "Not everyone is born in the land of gods, King Finrod."

"Forgive me," two words spoken with utmost sincerity erased all your anger in a heartbeat.

As Finrod prepared to leave, a sense of restlessness washed over your heart. The impending separation weighed heavily on your mind, and you found yourself unable to break away from his gaze. There was an unspoken challenge in his eyes, as if daring you to venture into an unknown battle of emotions.

"Is this how you men hug?" Finrod asked, a playful note in his voice, as you embraced him tightly to bid farewell. You chuckled softly, not wanting to let go. "Yes," you replied, a hint of reluctance in your voice. But just as you started to pull away, you felt Finrod's arms tighten around you, holding you closer.

"Then stay like this a little longer," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of longing and sincerity. The words caught you off guard, stirring a flurry of emotions within you. Your heart skipped a beat as you contemplated the deeper meaning behind his request.

"You want to run away or something?" you teased, trying to mask the sudden vulnerability that threatened to surface. A mischievous smirk danced on your lips as you challenged him playfully. "Like leave your kingdom and visit brothels with me?"

For a moment, the air hung heavy with anticipation. Finrod's gaze locked with yours, and you could sense the gravity of his response before he even uttered a word. His eyes spoke volumes, filled with unwavering determination and a longing for a different kind of freedom.

"Yes," he answered, his voice steady and resolute. The single word hung in the air, leaving you momentarily stunned. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a mix of excitement and uncertainty coursed through your veins.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of apprehension. You searched his eyes for clarity, seeking to understand the depth of his intentions. The mischievousness in your voice was replaced by genuine curiosity.

A soft smile tugged at Finrod's lips, a gentle reassurance in his gaze. The seriousness in his stare extinguished any doubt, leaving you breathless. "I mean it," he replied, his voice unwavering. "I want to be the most un-elven elf with you. So, should we run away now?"

Your mind raced, trying to comprehend the weight of his words. A mix of emotions flooded your being — fear, excitement, and a flicker of hope. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what this new path might bring, but the glimmer of possibility was too enticing to resist.

"I'm just joking," you finally managed to utter, "I wouldn't want to steal elves of their king," a hint of uncertainty lacing your words. But as you gazed into Finrod's eyes, you saw a lightness return to his expression, a playfulness that belied his sincerity. It was as if he understood the complex dance of emotions within you and accepted it without judgment.

A smile broke across Finrod's face, reaching his eyes and erasing any trace of doubt. He released you from his embrace, but his presence lingered, a connection that transcended the physical touch. "Maybe it was just a joke," he conceded, his voice filled with warmth, "but sometimes, jokes reveal the deepest desires hidden within our hearts."

That was how you parted with Finrod. Your last meeting held no promise of another.

Something gnawed at your soul — a settling dread that you would not be seeing him anymore. He was gone just like that. He might even not remember visiting you in his long lifetime.

Lost in your thoughts, you continued walking, and for the first time, you did not have a destination in mind. You walked past your school, your home, and the brothels you visited with Finrod, but nothing seemed to hold your attention. So you continued walking, step after step, pulled by an invisible force.

Clutching your satchel close to you, you followed the call that tugged at the weight that seems to have settled in your heart.

You stand outside the closed doors of your once home. And you know these doors will not be opening for you. Neither these doors nor the doors that lead to your mentor. You are no longer welcome in the world that you once called yours.

Clutched in your hand is a piece of paper. A crumbled piece of paper, that loses its ink to the merciless downpour of rain.

You could not find yourself to lament the loss of the words fading with every passing second. After all, these words were all you had left now. An abundance of them flocked every aspect of your life.

Nothing but these wretched words, the once you paid for with everything you ever valued.

It had been days since you had last barged through the doors of your mentor's place. You had expected to find the answers to your anguish there. To maybe seek approval for the bargain that seemed to have stripped you from your soul.

He should have known the answers to the path he led to you. When you enter the halls you once wished to be part of, you received nothing but stares full of contempt or found yourself confronted by the scorn of the ones who claimed to be the mascots of love.

If you had been more aware of the surroundings maybe you would have noticed your unkempt clothes, your unbrushed hair, or your bare feet that were bleeding onto the polished floors.

You held on to bunched up pages in your hands. Blank sheets full of poetry, yearning, and want. "Take it back," the words leave your mouth at the first sight of your mentor. You hand him the papers that he barely holds on to. "Take back or undo whatever it is that your teachings have led me to. I have written like you wanted. I have created like those love-crazed sufis now make this stop. Make this stop." The hall stands quiet.

"I cannot do that," your mentor's voice is a whisper. "No one can," he sounds so meek, unlike his past self.

"You don't understand. I cannot live like this. I cannot spend nights thinking of the one whose name I have already written a thousand times. I am looking for him, the king of elves, they call him Vidri or Finrod. I cannot find him. Tell me where he lives or where to find him..." your words thunder like the skies of July. You kneel in front of the one who you once knew to be your teacher. Begging for a respite of any kind.

You have been looking for Finrod for days but no matter how far your footsteps took you, you found no trace of the one you searched for. People knew of the golden-haired king but none knew of his kingdom. It was as if every proof of his existence evaporated into the searing winds of the desert.

You visited every place, every nook, every corner where you once saw him but there were no signs of him. Only the emptiness of your own yearning stared back at you.

"Please bring him back," your mentor steps back from your crouched figure.

Oh, the ecstasy of love's sweet wine, Intoxicates the soul with bliss divine. In the union of lover and beloved, they become one, An unsaid union, under the eternal sun.

So let the heart yearn, let it ache and pine, For in love's longing, a purpose divine. Through love's trials, the soul finds its way, To the eternal realm, where love holds sway.

So I embrace the reflection, a reflection of divine, As I seek him, I find my own essence entwined. In the labyrinth of love, I am both seeker and sought, A journey where duality is naught.

Finrod read the words once, then again, and again. He couldn't stop. Even without a name, he knew they were your words. Written by an anonymous poet, they resonated with him deeply because none would know them better than Finrod.

Hidden in the tavern he had once visited with you, Finrod smiled at the withered page of paper. So you had made it after all. Pride and joy filled him, but so did a sense of foreboding.

He ventured out, searching for you, but no one uttered your name. It had become taboo. The world had moved on without you. Your mentor, your friends, your brothers, they all stepped into a time where there was not a mention of you.

Where were you? You belonged here, with your people, in your bustling bazaars where you first met him. He had expected to return to a frozen time. And maybe this time… maybe he could finally tell you of his heart.

He found you amidst scorns and muttered curses. A frown appeared on his face as he noticed the averted eyes. "She had it coming with her deeds," an aged woman with a kind smile said without an ounce of sympathy or love for you. "A woman of the worst character. Did you know she had been seen frequenting those wretched brothels and indecent taverns? When asked, she spouted nonsense. Her brothers did not care for it and kicked her out. Her mentor, a respectable man, did not fare well with it either. For days she wandered these streets like a lewd prostitute, but then just left one day. Must have found another man or died in a ditch for all I care," disgust filled Finrod at the woman's words, but before he could defend you, another voice interrupted him.

"Come back, Granny, don't stand there talking to strangers," a child rushed forward and guided the elderly woman away from Finrod. Patting Finrod's shoulder, the woman started walking away. "Must have been some elven magic. That wretch would not stop talking about that elven king. She would write of him, sing of him, speak to him gazing in the skies...she was too far gone. "

When I looked for myself, I found his eternal flame, And in seeking him, I discovered my own name. In the sacred union of love's tether, I found the Beloved, in the depths of my own self, forever.

At last, Finrod had become your heartbreak.

[podstolnihanako]

One day, I had a dream...

I once had an amazing dream… I remember it as clearly as if it had just happened… So much so that all the details of this dream remain in my memory…

I remember a blizzard that night. It was the day I defeated the Dragon of the North and the Dragon of the South, freeing the Cocoa, Coffee, Liquorice and Milk tribes from their tyranny. A regular, very young biscuit from the Cacao tribe - sounds like a fairy tale for children. But it was true. The people of all the tribes proclaimed me king, and an unknown force bestowed upon me a stone that called itself the Soul Will Jam. It was a medium sized purple coloured pebble that immediately attached itself to my sword… quite curious. I couldn't sleep for a long time. The realisation of what had happened still lingered in my mind. I lay on my futon, replaying the events in my head, from defeating the dragons to getting that stone. — Young man… a hero should be sleeping soundly at a time like this,— Jem of Souls said suddenly, making me wince. It was unusual to hear the interlocutor in my head.

— I can't… my thoughts are in the way, — I said clearly, even though I knew Jem Dushi knew what I was thinking. I heard a heavy sigh in response.

— Do you still see the faces of those biscuits? I see… I've seen that once before, — the voice said, and it piqued my curiosity. I got up from the futon and, hands on my knees, sank to the floor in front of the sword. He kept talking about the past and then immediately changing the subject! I was sick of it.

— What are you doing up? Go to bed! You need sleep at all! — I squinted my eyes and stared at the faintly glowing stone.

— You keep talking about the past, but you don't tell me! Spit it out! — I exclaimed in a half-whisper so as not to wake the others in the house. But Jem Souls started backing off again, saying that I was supposedly ‘not old enough to know about such things’. And that hurt… But he gave in under my threats to let Creamwolf ‘play with the sword,’ which, by the way, always works.

— All right, all right! You got it, young man! — The voice grumbled, and I lay down again, pleased with myself. Perhaps under the influence of that voice, I began to slowly drift off to sleep, feeling like I was on a cloud. I felt like I was wrapped in something soft and light, even though I was under a blanket. At some point, I heard a voice and smelled something floury. The voice was female, and it sang a soft but beautiful melody. When I opened my eyes, I saw green mountains with occasional trees bearing pink fruit on their tops. Looking around, I noticed a small clearing with an equally small garden. In the garden, there was a go table with a plate of strange buns on it. But what attracted me most wasn't the beauty of the landscape, the go table, or the food. I saw a girl sitting on the side of the white chips, leaning her elbow on the table and singing softly. Her white qixiong ruqun perfectly complemented the golden pibo that surrounded her. The girl's hair was divided into two braids with gold ornaments at the ends. And on his forehead, like a crown, was an ornament that looked like an ear of wheat with a medium white stone. Around her neck was a gold necklace with three stones. Unfortunately, I couldn't see her face because of the fabric that was the same color as her clothes, with a small decoration in the form of wheat ears. But the only thing I knew was that it had something to do with Soul Jam. I took a step toward her, then stopped, startled when she looked my way. I felt goosebumps run down my spine and a lump formed in my throat. I couldn't say anything but stare at the girl in a daze. And she, in turn, got up from the pillow, carefully approached me with her hands folded in front of her on her stomach. That's when I caught myself thinking.why am I even reacting like this? After all, she's just like me...sort of.

— Greetings, guest of my humble abode. I'm glad you got here. — she said and apparently smiled happily, covering her face with her sleeve. I, on the other hand, didn't know what to say and just stood there like a fool.

— May I ask the name of my guest?" So what brings you here?" — while she was asking me questions, I didn't even notice that she was getting even closer to me. The smell of freshly ground flour and some pleasant incense immediately hit my nose. — Dark Cacao...that's my name. — I said, moving a little away from the state I was in. I blinked and looked again at the stranger, who looked like she was waiting for an answer to her second question. After taking a breath in and out, I continued:

— I ... wanted to know about the past of a stone called Soul Jam. And he said he would show me the past. — I could feel the trembling that had appeared from excitement gradually subsided and became a little easier. The girl, in turn, put her hand to her face and chuckled thoughtfully.

— I'll tell you, but first. — it was heard that a smile stretched on her face, and she turned back and went to the go table. Then she adjusted the pillow she was sitting on and landed on it.

— Will you play go with me? — If you win, I'll tell you about the past. If not, then you will already tell us about yourself. All right?" Adjusting her sleeve with her pale hand, she pointed to the chips and the seat across from her. Win in go, from an unknown girl from your dream to find out the past? Very suspicious... but still, there was no such choice, so I agreed. When I got to the table, I sat down on the side of the black chips and concentrated on the game itself. I made the first move, according to the rules of the game without a handicap. It seems to be a simple principle of the game: take on your side, more territory. But in fact, it turned out to be quite difficult. It must have been 10 minutes, and half the board was already filled with white chips. I swallowed hard and looked at the girl. And damn that cloth on her face! Because of her, I couldn't understand her train of thought!

"You're thinking too much of other things, my friend," she said suddenly, laying down the chip on my side, then folding her arms into her sleeves. When I looked down, I was horrified: the whole board was covered in white chips, and there were five black chips left. It was immediately clear that I had lost.

— You should focus not on winning, but on how exactly to achieve it. — the girl continued and raised her head slightly in my direction. I could feel people looking at me with regret, which made me even more ashamed. Exhaling, the girl got up and walked over to me, then sat down to my right.

— We could play some more games with you, but it's time for you to go back." I hope we can play again. She said as she patted my shoulder, causing me to look at her in a daze, and instead of a white cloth...I saw the ceiling of my room. I sat up and tried to digest what I'd seen… Was it a dream...or was it not? I wasn't sure about that…

[f1-giuki]

A Sunday Kind of Love 6 is at +13k words and I don't know how longer it will get, probably a lot, I love it.

Should I add a scene where Max, on the phone with Charles’s mom, dyes Charles’ hair?

And, here's a snippet of the fic! Enjoy!

~

The next morning Max is awake and not too dumbed by a long 12-hour nap. All the tiredness he accumulated caught up with him. He wakes up rather early and manages to eat half of the sweets in the pantry for breakfast. He drinks a red red bull can, the only one he's allowed in the house, and he walks upstairs to turn on the simulator. He might do some endurance racing until lunch.

As the computer turns on he checks his messages. There are a few texts from Charles, a bunch of I lost my dildo, do you know where my pink dildo is texts, a picture of a cake his mother made with a finger half covering the camera lens, another one without the finger, a video Arthur took of Charles asleep on the sofa snoring loudly, you stole my highway pass!!, BASTARD!, then Charles texts him the time he will leave for Italy, two days later, Max blinks twice when he sees that Charles will drive from Monaco to their place.

Babe, are you insane?

Wait, don't answer… What will you do today?

He texts and grins when he sees Charles's answer, a sticker of his face holding a red triangle sign saying 'don't'. Max laughs.

I'll sleep again, go to your place since mine is flooded with people outside, I'll help mom make a menu for the dinner with the cousins and then I'll probably be forced to make lasagne for lunch by Arthur, he doesn't let me live after the ones I made for Easter

Tell him that the next time you fall asleep he should draw a dick on your forehead

Like he did last week

absolutely no, don't give him strange ideas

You're lucky I don't have his number

I know you think I lack self-preservation instincts, but I don't go that far

I miss you

I love you

I love you too

don't let Arthur wait for his food

Blah blah blah, ttyl <3

God you're so sexy when you use millennial slang

Max smiles and puts his phone on the Red Bull mini-fridge he has in the sim room, next to his first world championship trophy. A curious piece of tat. He sits down and fixes the camera in front of him. He still has an hour before he needs to turn it on and join a live stream with his sim racing team. He grins and opens goat simulator and takes his phone to text Lando.

Wanna do one hour of goat simulator before I go live?

Fuck yeah, mate

-

Max's stomach rumbles at half past noon, while he's still streaming and, after five minutes of good teasing, he turns off the live stream, and goes to the kitchen, trying to understand what to make. He looks at the package of tagliatelle Charles bought but didn't like. It's been sitting on the counter for two weeks. He takes it and grins as he opens the pantry filled with stacked jars of fancy tomato sauce. Charles really has a problem…

"Okay, that will do," he mumbles as he takes a new jar.

He puts on another Paul Simon vinyl and jams to the music while cutting onions and garlic, humming the words of 50 Ways to leave your lover. Max grins and puts the chopped stuff in a little bowl. Charles has taught him to be organised in the kitchen and he's trying. His phone starts ringing and Max stops the music to pick it up. It’s a number he hasn’t saved in his contacts, an Italian number.

"Hello?"

"Ciao zio Max! Sono Lorenzo!" Hi uncle Max! I'm Lorenzo!

"Ciao Lorenzo, come stai?” Hi Lorenzo, how are you? He asks with a big smile on his face.

“Tutto bene, scusa se ti chiamo, ma mia mamma non riesce a venirmi a prendere a scuola… Potresti passare tu?”

“Aspetta, I don’t understand, one second, un secondo…” Max says as he hurries to the living room to take his tablet with him and opens Google Translate.

“Parla, per favore,” Speak, please. He says and Lorenzo repeats the phrase. All’s good, sorry if I’m calling you, but my mom can’t pick me up from school… Could you come and pick me up?

[atopfourthwall]

Final modern Trek question then I’ll be good: What’re your honest thoughts and feelings on Strange New Worlds Season 1? Pros and cons, how it differs from Discovery and what it does either better or worse? The direction and writing, and if you feel it’s a step in the right path for current Trek shows? I watched it and I personally loved it, but I’m so curious to know what you think.

It is MOSTLY good. Its biggest strength is standalone episodes but compelling character arcs, which was the right call to make. We don't need a mysterious space hole or whatever to keep us invested week after week - just have a story with a beginning, middle, and end - do Star Trek stuff like meet new, weird, alien races and find interesting solutions to problems. The characters can change and advance and we can learn new things about them that influence how we next see them. The characters are just generally likeable and PROFESSIONAL. Professional is really the watchword I should keep bringing up - one of the reasons why I'm so uninterested in watching Lower Decks is because I continually see in gifs a bunch of BOZOS. Morons in command, morons doing the gruntwork. Oh, sure, I don't doubt they do their jobs and live and etc., etc., but nothing about them screams "These are people I would want to trust with exploring the galaxy." I see fanboys and people who shouldn't be anywhere near a phaser, much less the big chair. One of the episodes that many wouldn't put on their highest-ranking list of episodes for season 1 of Strange New Worlds is "Ghosts of Illyria." But it's entirely my jam - the stuff I want out of Star Trek. An interesting sci-fi mystery, character revelations, professionals doing their best to solve the problem, raising some interesting moral questions that will have to be revisited down the road, etc. For many it's just kind of "meh," but for me it made me want to watch more of it again after a long absence after watching the first two episodes. I want to see smart people being smart and solving problems. That's reductive, I know, but it's what gets me every time when watching. Now, as for the cons... well, ironically with that word the big problem is CONTINUITY. There are NUMEROUS continuity issues with this series, not the least of which being T'Pring - Spock's fiancé. There is no reason she should be such a significant part of the show. Everything that we saw in Amok Time seemed to suggest they were not close, had not seen each other in a long time, and the attitude T'Pring had in that is at odds with how she's portrayed as so loyal and dedicated to Spock in SNW. And given her reasons for breaking off her engagement in Amok Time, unless they REALLY openly contradict it with, I don't know, some kind of big betrayal or emotional fallout with Spock, I have a hard time believing that she'd break it off with him there. Don't get me wrong - the bodyswap episode was still good, but the problem again comes down to "I do not see a reasonable way for these two to no longer be together for Amok Time." The show focuses too much on old characters and not enough on new ones. I've already seen Spock's character development in TOS and the movies. I don't need MORE of it here, especially whenever they bring up Discovery. I don't need to see Pike's dilemma about his future - I know what's going to happen there. Uhura is a fine character... but I've seen her already. Give me more of everybody else - journeys for them, arcs for them, change for them. Killing Hemmer was dumb. Killing him while turning the Gorn into xenomorphs was dumber. Having the Gorn at all is dumb given we were pretty sure their first contact with the Federation was Arena in TOS. You could have invented a new baddie and gotten the same effect. Hell, it would have been better since one of the points of Arena is that we judged the Gorn as being aggressive, evil, and monstrous partially because of their appearance... but here comes SNW to be like "Oh, yeah, they are the absolute friggin' WORST. Unimaginably monstrous and horrible." Stop making all the uniform variants try to match with Discovery's stupid uniforms.

[totkdaily]

Day 25: The Great Fairy Tera, and Princess Zelda

Dawn comes too soon to Woodland Stable, after my late night yesterday.

I speak to the few people at the stable. Molo is wondering whether to take the new road to Goron City or the dangerous old road from Foothill Stable. He'll sleep on it - so I won't wait for him. Maypin is ready to head out with their wagon. But I do want to deal with the Great Fairy before I head towards the City. Ashe says to watch out for Gorons with strange rocks. The younger Gorons have stopped work and started playing tricks instead. I guess I'll watch out for that?

Kish wants a photo of a Goron in the hot springs north of Goron City for the stable wall. Noted.

Right, time to get on. I hitch Pumpkin to the musical troupe's cart to pull them up to the Great Fairy so that the violinist, Violynne, can play for her.

Tera emerges at the sound of Violynne's beautiful music.

Tera says the world isn't as Princess Zelda described to her - she warned her of Gloom and said the world would soon be lost to monsters. I mean… it's a little pessimistic. It's unlike her. But then Tera admits she couldn't see the figure's face. Maybe it wasn't Zelda after all. 

Penn puts it together clearer than I'd like. Looks like Princess Zelda, but isn't Princess Zelda. Is that possible? Is Zelda here at all? Has anyone seen the real Princess, or am I chasing a ghost? A horse-scaring, doom-warning, cold-faced ghost… 

I don't know what to do with that. Penn is still speaking. He pays me and leaves.

Violynne and Mastro plan to get the band back together - I knew they were the Stable Trotters! - and coax the other Great Fairies out of hiding. Tera tells me where her three sisters are and I mark them on my map. 

It's first thing in the morning but I feel shattered. I glide down the hill in the sudden rainstorm to the shrine. Then back down to the stable, pick up Pumpkin, and charge up the hill towards Death Mountain in the storm.

A rock falls and I remember that Gerudo treasure hunter. I use Zelda's recall ability to ride it back up, curious. It lands at a small sky island. From here, I can see the glowing eyes of a Goron statue roughly where the City should be - but it's not Daruk. No beard. Surely they didn't replace him? This must just be a new one. Would they carve such a thing for Yunobo, after he aided in the defeat of the Calamity Ganon? 

I drop back down to Pumpkin. I could probably make it to Goron City faster on my own, but what's the rush? It would be nice to have company. 

And if I had just glided off, I would have missed Addison. 

I stop to read a sign on the road. YunoboCo hiring! Sounds like Yunobo is doing well for himself, then. 

I scramble across to the Eldin Canyon Skyview Tower while I'm vaguely nearby, but Sawson says the door is jammed and the top of the tower has come off. I wonder if I can figure this out… Just as I'm wondering if I have enough stamina to climb the tower, a rock falls nearby! That'll do - I ride it up and glide down to the top of the tower. Scan the horizon without the benefit of the launch, then pop down inside to activate it.

[elgascreamslikehell]

So, inspiration Saturday i was tagged by sweet precious @911-on-abc and @pirrusstuff i missed cause time zones)

So we unite it with something something Sunday

About inspiration part, i actually use as inspiration voices in my head and if you follow the news it's a disaster.

Also i use music!

So, there's a list of the songs i use to get into the mood:

Diary of dreams - Flood of tears

JubyPhonic - Miss wanna die

Die Ärtzte - Junge

Jaymes Young - Infinity

Sunrise avenue - I don't dance

Andy Black - We don't have to dance

The last goodnight - Pictures of you

Ashes Remain - On my own

Jam& Spoon - Set me free

Shane Alexander - Feels like the end

And for the something something Sunday - a little fluffy piece before my brain decided to ADD MORE GLASS. Can't help it.

'So, you kissed him, and?', - Maddie mixes her coffee with sugar and Buck smiles. Not that she sounds impressed. Or even slightly surprised. 'And… well… and we kissed and…and then…', - she laughs: 'Okay, Evan, I got it, stop, you're getting more red with every word. I never thought you were so shy in this. I just don't understand, what's the issue? You broke up with Natalia, you told me he also broke up with Eric… you're both single adults, why not? Not the best way to relax taking into account you two work together but' 'You don't get it, do you? It's not that. Fuck, Maddie, it's not like relax thing. It's more like.. hell i can't say this, what should i do?!' Maddie sips her coffee and chuckles: 'It depends. What do you want to do?' Buck knows for sure what he wants to do. He wants to spend the rest of his life here, with Eddie and Chris. Grow old together. Have a family. But not that there's only him to decide. 'Evan…', - Maddie looks at him and he can feel her sight: 'Usually people talk in such situations, did you try it?' 'Well… he left for work before I woke up',- and that could be strange, really, Buck is a morning bird. If he doesn't spend the night, silently checking every now and then that Eddie is still here, he's fine, he's sleeping calmly, as close as he possibly can be to Buck. 'Than you two talk after his shift. It's easy. And, to be frank, I really think you will be surprised by the outcome of this… okay, wait, Chim is bombarding me with texts', - she takes her phone and starts laughing. 'Eddie came to work in a good mood in the morning! How can he stand your brother so well?' 'Hen asked about Eddie's friend and he said they are not a thing so you need to pay, how did you ever fall for 'he was nervous on the 911 call', they're all nervous' 'HEN SAID I'M AN IDIOT WE'RE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE DELETE HER FROM GUESTLIST' 'What's that? Should I ask if he got into trouble?' There's a little smudgy picture of Eddie's back instantly followed by text 'DON'T BOTHER HEN TOLD ME' 'I just don't get it. He said he's not a thing with Eric' 'WAIT A DAMN MINUTE' And texts stop. Maddie is still laughing 'What?', - Buck is curious as a cat sometimes and well, he has this right 'Well, it would be better if you just gave him a hickey' 'What do you mean?', - Buck is just sitting here with so confused face it makes Maddie even more laughing 'Nothing, Evan. But you two really need to talk otherwise your thoughts stop fitting your head'.

And tagging, as always

@krayfish @blackberry-l @kaseysgirl86-blog @brightlyprofiling @idealuk @1stbonesfan @angryangeldreamsalad @criminally-obsessed @amelia9bl @silvergold-swirl @itsamaaaadworld @vasudharaghavan @livingonzenstreet @nothingbutmande @spanishrose6 @sunflowerdiaiz @fanf98 @logicloveandsense @simply-mev @ronordmann @still--not--over--merlin @z02fl @vanjalen @thatshroomintheforest @steadfastsaturnsrings @cagdahl @newtalot @dreamforrest @fionaswhvre

[boxwinebaddie]

Miss Ninaa!! When are you free for the summer???

hello, sweetling! and good morning, good afternoon or good night wherever it is that you are. <3 regardless of the time of day, please just know that the world around you is brighter bc you're in it. c':

so i just want to start out by saying that i know i say this a lot...but i cannot tell you what it means to me that you guys care enough about me to be curious about the trajectory of my offline life.

...like, i really just have the sweetest anons in the world, huh? ;-;

i feel unbelievably blessed and count my lucky stars everyday because of each and everyone of you. thank you for being your lovely, lovely selves and caring not only about me as a person but my silly and strange au styles from hell.

speaking of, i am aware that it does not seem like it because of how sporadically i post ncu related content ( if at all ) but i am trying to work on some stuff...as you know well by now, i like to really take my time putting out my work because the quality of the content that you read is paramount to me. you are all far too near and dear to my heart to receive lame, rushed, unclear boof ass content from me.

like...i simply will not do it. thank you for your paitence.

( i will say that i am specifically working on an ask about the greenhouse kiss which AAAAAA giggling, twirling my hair and kicking my feet, like it is SOOOOO satisfying, holy shit! it's also very, very important to the plot which is why i have been taking my time on it. i do hope to put it out today but i am trying not to make promises that i can't keep, get your hopes and dreams up just to dash them and most unfortunately, i do not have a great track record in that regard. i know it's kind of a bummer...but i like to be honest w/ y'all. )

ANYWAYS!

without further ado, here's a little glimpse into my life. xx

again, thank you for asking...that is very cute of you. c': <333

( this is lengthy and lowkey irrelevant. you can absolutely skip this but i think that i am pretty informative in here, so it might be useful? idk. )

so actually, my summer is pretty busy and jam-packed for the most part! or, the first two months are, at least. because i decided to take on summer camp here at the school i work on! camp counsellor nina!

i decided to nab a summer camp supervising position for a couple of reasons. like, obviously, teaching does not pay that much, so really, i need to make all the money i can while i can. don't worry about me tho, guys. bc actually am doing extremely well for myself. <333

( i am a very lucky person, haha -- god nerfed me by being mentally ill, but did make me pretty and personable...which gets me far in life. on the topic of mental illness [ of which i am very ] today i should fare quite well bc other than having a mild headache and being lowkey naseous because my mood stabilizer has that side effect for me...it is worth it when i rem(ember) to take it because it makes me very calm and level, so i am better at responding to my asks/doing my tasks. )

another reason is it keeps me busy...when i am not constantly busy, i get very depressed and fall into gnarly sprials. my job has a lot of downtime and when i am not running around like crazy because a bunch of teachers are out, i'm bored as fuck and i get lazy or restless.

very lame...this summer, i will be looking for a different job ( fml, if you are my boss, don't read this ) and i am a bad procrastinator so i missed the deadline for a fuck ton of teaching positions, but hopefully i can find something in the realm of associate or assistant teaching because....lmao, point and laugh but i am still a little too nervous to teach a whole class by myself. if kids get disadvantaged academically because i am too incompetent at teaching, i will die.

but yeah...if i am still babysitting fourteen year olds after this ( they did grow on me, but it's really not my speed ) please also point and laugh because i would rather go back to retail...yes, i am desperate.

on the subject of teaching kids that are in my wheelhouse and doing stuff my speed, summer camp is actually all k-5 so i will FINALLY being doing a majority of my teaching in the age group that i have my literal credential in. YAY! it's going to be hot as shit where i am over the summer, probably also tiring as shit ( have you seen how little kids act in the summer? ) but i am so fkn exCITED to work with the littles HEEEEELLL YES, BROTHER! uncle nina will be Vibing! <333

so for the first four weeks i am doing general camp stuff, getting a feel for stuff and wokring with all the grade levels...but the LAST two weeks, i get to specifically associate teach in the kindergarten classroom and AAAAAAAA!!!!! I FKN LOVE THE KINDERS!!!!! i visit them every other day because, again, i am bored as shit and they need help over there so i usually hang out with them in PE and play hula hoop tag with them...rn they are learning how to jump rope. soooo stinking cute, oh my god.

-- BUT YES I AM SOOOOO FREAKING STOKED YOU GUYS LIKE I WAS MADE FOR THIS BROTHER. i am gonna wear so many crazy outfits and do such weird makeup pray it doesn't melt off my face.

also, during camp, they go on little field trips and things, hopefully swimming, ( uncle nina is mermaid nina ) and feed you the same stuff as the campers so i get to eat like a nasty frat boy and have pizza and pasta and stuff, which, let me tell you, i am genuinely stoked because they cater a free lunch for the faculty here everyday and it's supposed to be all fancy and shit...but there is a reason it's free because it is SOOOO mid. like it really is kind of ass. i don't know how they do that.

but, sigh, camp is only six weeks so i have to fill my time with other stuff ( also i guess that means in six weeks from when school is done on june...14th, i think? i am free? ) i hope to use that time to structure the fuck out of my life, planf or the future because i am hella bad at it and i hope to do a lot of writing! kind of a pipe dream at this point becaue all my stuff has been *british tolkien vc* actual shite and i can't finish anything...but maybe when i feel better, writing will come easier? when i am less busy and stressed? i hope so. and i hope you guys are still around if i am here but i Completely understand if you are not! it's been a long, bumpy ride. you did your dues and you are free to step off at any time. again, i do not blame you. i am annoying.

BUT YEAH! that's my summer for you! summer camp, hanging out with my cat ( her name is lily, she is very beautiful, very kind, very fluffy and dumb as rocks but she is my babygirl ), getting lots of sushi, going to the thrift store, doing self care stuff, doing less self harm in various odd forms specifically in the form of self sabotage, getting my life together and organized, finding a new job, bettering myself and the world, being kind, entertaining all of you and hopefully writing again! yay! i'll update you as much as i can.

and please, please, pleeeease update me on your lives! i know i don't always respond, but i read everything. my friend who won FIRST PLACE for her raven sculpture, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU BABY. my friends who unfortunately went through breakups, i am so sorry, please know it is their loss, you are stronger for it and i hope you heal, but if ravesey can...you can baby. also proud of my various friends going to college and my friends that are not! my friends toiling through their lame jobs and my friends who are dipping their toes in the world of creativity through writing, drawing expressing yourself! i love, love, LOVE you! thank you for sharing your lives with me.

( speaking of friends, i am specifically hoping to spend my summer bonding with my rant girlies and we made a little group chat and we are being so funny and chaotic and unhinged. i love them all so bad. )

BUT YEAH! thank you for asking my love! look out for some important in character asks, hopefully some finished or more distinguished writing and know that if i am not responding or posting, it is not because i lost interest...as you can see, i am very busy, especially as the school year approaches an end, my summer is a little busy, i fall into ugly manic/depressive cycles and am working on taking care of myself...offline. thank you for understanding.

and thank you for being here! you are troopers, forreal! you are angels and saints for putting up for me and enduring me never posting or posting really chaotic weird stuff. i love you. thanks for caring. <3

i love you and i hope you heal,

uncle nina, future ceo of glamour girl summer camp <3

P.S. i am specifically working on developing and post more about my other aus because i want to give you some variety and challenge myself to do stuff out of my comfort zone! so if you are excited at all about the tsot/tfbw nina stuff, please make some NOOOOISE! lol and if you are not i totally get it, but if you could give me gentility and grace, i would appreciate it because i'm insecure abt it. MWAH!

[darkkitty1208]

Have you noticed Stephen's beard is crooked in infinity war? The part below the lips. I can't unsee it. And since then I've been wondering if it was on purpose to show us Stephen's handicapped or if they simply botched it.

Christ, anon. No, I didn't notice that, and I dunno if I should be terrified or impressed by your attention to detail. O.o

So I looked it up because I was curious--

--and apparently you were right! It's not exactly very clear but if you see closely -- I had to zoom in several times because I'm practically blind -- there's an uneven patch on the underside of his chin (centre to left) and a bit of (very, very slight) crookedness to the part under his bottom lip. If the picture above isn't clear try this:

Probably not a better picture but. It's visible enough, yeah? I couldn't find any other suitable ones lmao.

Which reminds me, we were given this wonderful shirtless scene in DS 2016 where Stephen is shaving his goatee:

(Damn. I feel happy he even gave an affirmative nod at himself after that shave. Insecure Stephen is my jam but seeing him glowing and happy with his body/priding in himself at how far he's changed from the dishevelled homeless man he was like this is... something else.)

...and I have to say, even if we were only given a side-view, it looked pretty good. And then we were given the scene where he showed up walking through the Kamar Taj courtyard as a new man (I couldn't find it???) and went to the library saying this iconic line:

Yeah, there's the other side of his shaved goatee. (Thank god for GIF makers bcs the original lighting in that scene was horrible.) And it looks pretty even and neat on both sides, I think? Which concludes that he can, in fact, still shave his beard properly with his hands. Also this was much, much earlier on than IW so he was possibly still slowly adapting to his hands' condition and being able to do this must've been a feat compared to when he had already adjusted himself to the pain in his hands much later. (I'm not actually disabled so I dunno if anyone could ever be 'adjusted' to a disability... But this is Doctor Stephen "Pain's an Old Friend" Strange we're talking about. Nevertheless, I could definitely be wrong and I really don't mean to offend anybody.)

So I'm just gonna make a guess that the slight unevenness of his beard in IW is either caused by him having a Bad Hand Day or simply because he couldn't see the underside of his face clearly while shaving because bathroom lighting can suck sometimes. XD But it's very slight anon, Jesus Christ.

But seriously. Maybe we just need to give this man a damn break because he is trying his best, nonny. Leave the poor guy alone 😭

(Also me: *continues to scrutinise his goatee for the next half hour*)

BUT ALSO it grew scruffier in MoM so he probably grew it out for a while.

I have to be honest here. I don't like how his beard looks in MoM it looks like it was painted on him. ;-;

It could be that it grew thicker bcs:

He was too busy dealing with sorcerer stuff to be focusing on his goatee

He would only shave when his hands are more cooperative bcs he refuses to ask for help

Or he used this shit:

I feel bad for finding that last one funny.

[bugbyte]

So it's been almost a week

And I figured I would make an update about the pain + medical marijuana situation, for science or the curious or whatever.

So it's technically been 5 days and not a full week, but who's counting?

I failed to read the directions on the actual packaging (lol) and it turns out I could have been taking a capsule like every 4 hours. I have not been doing that because I would burn through everything I have in a week, and the state limits the maximum amount I can buy in any given 30 days. So that would probably be incredibly effective but again, this whole process is incredibly expensive. That bit makes me angry, and I've effectively been radicalized into a pro-federal-legalization person, but that's another post for another day.

So! Even though I've been taking a fraction of the dose I could be taking, I have noticed major changes, and the thing that astonishes me is that all of my pain, day to day, is down significantly. Even if I didn't take anything at all that day.

Basically: part of the (many) problems in my shoulder is that my upper trapezius just. Never ever relaxes. I've had injections, I've done PT, I have a TENS unit I stick on from time to time and absolutely nothing has made that particular muscle relax even a little. Most of the time it feels like a red-hot tennis ball jammed in my shoulder. It has been at least this bad since March of 2023, until now, December. The morning after I took my first dose of MMJ, the very first thing I noticed on waking up was that I could move my arm normally.

For that entire day, I had mostly normal use of my arm, with almost unnoticeable pain. I still have to contend with the problem that it can kind of slide out of place/hang strangely/I have to wrestle it back where it belongs, but the pain aspect? Nearly gone. All I can figure, is that they explained the dose they were giving me had a certain ratio of compounds that are anti-inflammatory to compounds that are pain-reducing (I don't know enough to give details here) and the anti-inflammatory aspect must have been more powerful? Higher dosage? More effective for some reason? Than all of the other prescription things I take supposedly for anti-inflammatory purposes.

Things have been a bit up and down since then, so I suspect I'm going to need to do some adjusting of dose and timing, but I cannot complain about the results I'm getting. I was really, really excited about being able to draw pretty normally, and definitely kind of overdid it. And then I went to cook dinner, and definitely overdid it, and I paid for all that the next day, which was back to a more normal pain level for me.

I was really worried at this point that the first day had been me placebo-effecting myself and it wasn't going to work and oh well at least I tried. But after taking a rest day and continuing to take it before bed, I'm back to a manageable pain level. I spent most of today (Sunday) in the lowest pain I've felt in probably years.

I'm able to draw (as long as I don't push it too hard for now), spend more time up and around, and doing more average tasks around the house. I haven't been able to do these things in a really long time and I keep feeling like this is all fake, and a fluke, and it's going to stop working and I'll be back down in pain hell. I keep giving myself the side eye every day, like, is this real? Are you fooling yourself? But... I think it's working.

I've got a ways to go still to get back some regular functioning -- the aforementioned joints slipping out of place is a major thing. But if I can keep my average pain level to what I've got now, or lower? I can get back to PT and working on muscle strength to help keep my joints where they belong. I don't know if I'll ever get back to doing everything I used to do before this decline, but at least I have hope that things can be better.

[deuterosapiens]

Just found out about Omegle shutting-down. I totally get it, that place was a hell-scape in the actual worst ways, but I still feel sort, I don't know, weird about it.

I used to use it when I was having some of my worst emotional days to find people to anonymously vent my problems to. Sometimes people actually listened and talked and I felt kind of okay.

I mean, yeah, some of the actual worst wastes of human zygotes stalked and hunted and preyed on it. And its fully anonymous user-base meant there was very little to protect its users: the same kind of anonymity that protects the freaks and sex-offenders hurt the curious, the confused, those who didn't know enough (through no fault of their own) to protect themselves from terrible people.

I think I always took for granted the strange-ness of a chat service without user-profiles. Where it was a feature, rather than a limitation one had to actively go out of their way to restrict their user experience to create.

I don't think there's a good word in English for how I feel about it. Guiltily nostalgic? No. Depressed, bummed-out? Not really. It's a thing that used to be there and isn't anymore and there's a sense of loss, not because the thing missing was valuable or important, bit because it's simply a thing that's gone and wasn't before.

You could go your entire life never one sticking your tongue into an electrical socket, but the moment you are told you can no longer stick your tongue into an electrical socket because electrical sockets no longer exist and there will never again be electrical sockets, you feel almost a slight something. The ever-so-brief desire to jam a metal fork into an electrical socket solely on the basis that you can't anymore, not because of rules or morals or anything, but because forks also don't exist anymore and so now you couldn't even if you wanted to.

The Caligula effect refers to the desire to do something you shouldn't. I'm feeling something like a nostalgic regret seeped perhaps slightly in the dregs of the desire to briefly inflict intense psychological damage by switching to a site that doesn't exist anymore. Call it Caligula's Nostalgia. Or something. I'm not a psychologist.

[iviarellereads]

Network Effect, Chapter 6

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

In which Murderbot is particularly bad at getting in touch with its feelings and needs.

Fortunately it was an energy weapon and not a SecUnit-head-busting projectile.(1) It still fucking hurt.

Murderbot dodges to avoid a second blast, but there isn't one because Amena spider-monkeyed Ras. MB picks up the weapon Ras used, and puts it in its jacket pocket, then kicks Ras in the back of the knee, and catches Amena as he falls. Amena asks what's wrong with him, and he makes some semi-coherent statements about how you can't trust anything that's not fully human.

As they try to make sense of this, Eletra agrees it doesn't make sense, then presses a hand to her head, and collapses just before Ras does the same, this time without provocation. Eletra starts convulsing. Amena tells MB they took some analgesics from the medkit, and wonders if they were poisoned. MB thinks that would involve more bodily fluids and disgust. It's not airborne or contact, because Amena's fine.

MB uses a handheld medical scanner, and determines that something fried Ras's chest, and it looks like when a SecUnit gets hit by its governor module. It looks at the feed of the remaining Targets, and one is holding a strange device. It must be activating something on Ras and Eletra. MB jams the whole range of signals that it can, and Eletra stops convulsing.

Amena asks if MB will stop just standing there, then realizes her mistake, and asks if it did that. It says yes, they have some kind of implants. Ras is fully dead and Eletra is in rough shape. They find her implant, a little metal ring in flesh that looks swollen and painful.

MB explains about the Targets at the hatch to the bridge, and how it's playing a conversation on the last drone it has in the bridge, but the drone can't access the systems. Amena makes an incredulous comment, and MB gets testy as it's scanning Eletra's implant. Amena realizes that the B-E pair never tried to use or ask about the MedSystem, so they probably didn't know they had these implants. Amena offers to cut it out, even though they don't have any backup plan if things go wrong and she's not well trained. MB asks for the scalpel in the medkit, and Amena is both relieved and guilty at not having to do it.

MB follows the emergency kit's instructions for emergency surgery, and finally manages to pop the implant out. Eletra wakes up abruptly. Amena fits the wound pack over Eletra's back quickly, and she passes out again as the pack delivers meds. MB moves Ras to a gurney in the corner, and covers him with a sheet. Eletra crashes, and MB and Amena follow the med kit's instructions.

Across the room, MedSystem clunks and some lights turn on, indicating it's been powered up. Amena asks if MB did that, but it didn't. It's not sure what could have.(2) MB wonders if it's TCS trying to get them to put Eletra in to finish her off, or if some trace of Art remained and is trying to save a human. Either way, MB carries her to the MedSystem platform, and the system starts stabilizing her much more effectively than the emergency kit.

Amena asks if MB is okay, and when MB kinda shrugs off an answer, she says if MB wasn't so angry at her, it would know she's right. MB says it's not angry at her, but admits internally that it is, though it doesn't know why. Amena keeps prodding, asking MB what's wrong and why it's upset. She knows it's not telling her something, and she's not a hero or a genius, she's an ordinary human and MB is all she has.

MB is startled to realize the source of Amena's strange facial expressions, and admits that its friend, the bot pilot of this ship, is dead, or else it wouldn't have let any of this happen. Amena's expression changes, and she suggests MB might need to sit down. MB realizes it's acting irrationally, but says it has things to do. Amena says it's emotionally compromised.(3) MB pulls an "I know you are but what am I" which falls flat.

Amena asks if it would be easier to write code sitting down. MB wants to argue, but now that it's thinking, it really does want to sit down. It does so, on the floor, and turns up its pain sensors a little to realize it's got some heavy damage. Amena asks if she can get it anything, but it declines.

MB asks itself, if it were emotionally compromised, what would help? It decides revenge would help the most.

Eletra wakes up, and Amena tells her what happened.

MB writes its TCS-takeover code, but it can't test it against a system that won't open to it. It drops its jamming signals, and looks at its control area foyer scout again. The Targets left the device on a bench, and are arguing. MB thinks they might come in handy. The targetDrones are probably congregating around the hatches to the crew area, which is not handy.

Eletra is out again. MB asks Amena if she recognizes the images the bridge drone captured. Amena gets excited, but MB says they still can't do anything with any of the readings. Amena asks if there's an auxiliary control station in engineering. They might not get control unless it's transferred down from the bridge, but they can get all the readouts, if there is one. MB thinks it's not the sort of thing this sophisticated a vessel should need, but it can check.

MB's performance reliability has evened out at 89%, which it can work with, though it hasn't identified why it dropped before.(4) It gives Amena the energy weapon from Ras, saying it should work on the Targets, though not the drones. Amena says she wants to go with it. MB has "a confusing series of reactions", including exasperation at them both, suspicion, and the urge to kill everything threatening Amena.(5) It says someone should stay with the injured human.

Amena apologizes for forgetting, and looks away to rub her eyes. MB feels like shit for making her cry, and for everything involved here. It's not sure what to say, so it just apologizes for being an asshole. Amena says it's fine, she hasn't been very nice to it either, maybe they're just even now. MB starts to leave without saying another word,(6) but Amena asks it to not stop talking to her on the feed. It agrees to this.

HelpMe.file Excerpt 2 (Section from interview Bharadwaj-09257394.)(7)

Someone, presumably Bharadwaj, noticed that in MB's transcripts of its thoughts, it redacts the company's name and replaces it with just "the company" in lowercase. She notes from a live transcript feed that it's just done it again when she said the company name. MB says that's not a question.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” pause “Is it the logos? You’ve mentioned them before. I did think at the time, that you wouldn’t have known they were impossible to remove if you hadn’t already tried.”(8) “That’s one of the reasons.” “We’ve talked a little about trauma recovery treatments. I wonder if you’ve ever thought about taking one yourself.”(9) :session redacted:

=====

(1) Well, that was kind of obvious, seeing as there's still 80% of the book to go. (Side note, it's interesting to me that, given the added page count, my summaries don't feel like they're much if any longer than for the novellas, on a per-chapter basis, despite the chapters being at least 50% longer than the novella chapters. Just something interesting I've been noticing. (2) Do you think it was the Targets, or something else? What might it be, with Art deleted? Or was it? (3) Another loose Trek reference, perhaps. I don't have as strong a recollection of the TV shows doing much with that phrasing, but the first reboot movie had Spock in charge for a while, until Kirk proved he was emotionally compromised and not fit for duty. (4) Yeah, that was weird, it happened at almost the same time those implants tried to activate, didn't it? (5) Amena is one of Its Humans, and not just because she's important to Mensah. (6) Social awkwardness is Murderbot's kryptonite. (7) Another excerpt?! So the last one wasn't a one-off, obviously. Why is this being called a help-me file? What do the flashback to between-books and this interview have in common? What makes them different? (8) MB has mentioned that it has company logos burned into many of its parts. I can't imagine that living with the company's logo literally branded into its body in so many ways could be comfortable. The resentment is unimaginable. (9) MB asked about trauma treatments for Mensah's sake, to know what best to recommend she seek out. It would make sense that it might benefit from a similar program, given... the everything of it all.

[urrone]

I posted 2,100 times in 2022

34 posts created (2%)

2,066 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@foofyschmoofer

@onionjuggler

@bropunzeling

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I tagged 2,070 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#loling forever - 246 posts

#oh tumblr - 54 posts

#fan art - 37 posts

#me - 34 posts

#tiktok - 32 posts

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Longest Tag: 69 characters

#moving into the new houses built along the other side of victor’s row

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Writing question! You write for a lot of different fandoms. Do you find yourself adapting your style to the fandom, or are there aspects of writing style that transcend different fandoms? (I imagine it's a mix of both, but I'm really curious about which elements stand out to you as being fandom-specific or universal when it comes to writing style!)

Hey, thank you for asking!

Thinking about this now, I feel like I adapt my writing style to the tone of the story more than the fandom. I think if you read through my fic you'll see how it adapted over time, but the style over the fandoms will feel very similar. Like I think my writer's voice is pretty strong.

That said, I just took a look at my Dragon Age fic vs my Julie and the Phantoms fic, and the prose in the DA fic is a bit more flowery, to fit the writing and the dialogue, than what I have in JATP.

But I always write in tight 3rd person POV and always in present tense. (Except for a few experiments in the early days of fandom.)

So the short answer to your question is you are correct, it's a mix of both. I like to be descriptive and I like to use a lot of metaphors in writing. Dialogue is my jam but I don't like to have a lot of bare bones back and forth and I hardly ever use "[character name] says" because I have a THING about overusing it, so I tend to get really in the moment of describing reactions to dialogue or how a character moves in reaction to dialogue in order to not have to tag the dialogue.

But like, funny/happy fics are gonna have short, bouncier sentences than anything that deals with angst or death, so that's kinda the style change?

This has been interesting, I've really never thought about this before. I'm curious what @swaps55 thinks since she's read everything I've ever written.

19 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

#4

fic: warm hands, soft heart

“You always do this. You always try to warm me up.”

Varric pulls Fallwyn closer to the fire, chafing her hands between his own. “Can I help it if looking at you makes me feel cold?”

Fallwyn inches toward the flames, stopping just short of actually getting into the fire. She’d singed more than one pair of trousers and had once burned the bottom of her boots almost clean off before she realized she’d shoved them too close to the fire. While wearing them.

The coldest night in the Free Marches had not prepared her for life in the mountains of the south.

Varric had been the one to take her back to Harritt for new boots and patches on her leather armor. It hadn’t occurred to her that she wouldn’t just have to make do with what she’d ruined. Harritt hadn’t blinked an eye, just tutted over the soles of her boots as he turned to his workbench.

Even among her clan, she’d learned at a young age to see to her own comforts. Having someone act as a mother hen is strange enough, but that it’s Varric of everyone in the Inquisition seems stranger still. But it’s a nice change to feel like someone’s worried about whether she’s cold or not. All anyone else wants to talk about is the breach or Andraste, as if Fallwyn knows anything about the shemlen gods. Like they forget she’s also a person who eats and shits like they do.

It helps that Varric never seems to leave this spot, so he’s always right there and tugging her in closer to warmth. It’s in the middle of all the camp and out of sight of Threnn, so it makes a sort of sense that he’d stick to this general area. Writers must always be observing or something like that.

“It’s so cold in the south,” she says, eyeing the open collar of his shirt and the coat flung over top of a nearby tent. “You never seem to feel it.” There are so many curls on his chest and she doesn’t mean to, but she starts wondering what they’d feel like under her palms. She wonders if all the extra hair he seems to have almost everywhere keeps him warmer.

Read on ao3

27 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

#3

who you were vs. what you are

Somewhere in your childhood,  someone you once loved betrayed your whole little heart and told you that you were not enough.

And because thoughts become things,  it became ivy inside your mind and body until this was all you believed about yourself and your self-worth became mutiny.

Remember that the stars and planets did not die for you to waste your time wondering  if you are pretty enough or worthy enough to exist.

You are still trying, in this body,  to be all the things that make a person. But the truth is you are bursting at the seams because you are a plethora of universes becoming a human.

your heart is the sea by nikita gill

27 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

#2

new fic for the late night crowd

“When you laugh like that, it's just—you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“I am not.”

If Varric weren’t the kind of dwarf to pick at the edges of things, he might have taken caution at how quickly the laughter in Cassandra’s eyes sharpened into brittle disdain. But if he’s ever met caution, she’s never bought him a drink.

“You are though. I remember sometime around the . . . what . . . third day of interrogations in Kirkwall, thinking that if you’d just take off even the first layer of armor the whole conversation would have been much more entertaining.”

He can almost hear her teeth crying at the strain as her jaw clenches. “I have only the one layer—”

“Oh I wasn’t talking about the iron, Seeker.”

It’s good they’re in the middle of a very fancy party with drinks and dancing and that the guards have already taken her long and very pointy sword, though Varric is very well aware she doesn’t actually need the sword to kill him. “Are you telling me that you think I am only beautiful when I smile?”

“I mean you do it so rarely, who can say, but no. Did I say only? Words are my living, sort of, and I think I would have remembered making that implication.”

She narrows her eyes as her gaze flicks across the ballroom. Varric has had the very great pleasure of seeing her in all kinds of moods at this point, but it’s her haughty dragon princess he probably loves the most.

Read the rest on ao3.

28 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

in the deep dark

I’m playing DAI again and did the Descent. Then this happened. 

Varric/Lavellan | on ao3

--

In the dim torchlight, she can just see Varric’s outline where he’s sitting up in his bedroll. He’d drawn first watch but Avriel knows that’s not the only reason he isn’t sleeping. They all look pale and sallow after two weeks underground, but the darkness hangs on Varric in ways it doesn’t touch the others. 

She’s met more dwarves over the last months with the Inquisition than she’s ever known in her entire life and she knows, better than anyone else here, that he doesn’t have much in common with other dwarves. 

“You don’t like being underground, do you?” she whispers into the space between them. There isn’t much, they’ve bedded down into a handy alcove for what Avriel has called the night, even though there’s no difference down here. 

He doesn’t startle but then, he never has with her. Somehow, he always seems to be aware of exactly where she is. “I’m not a very good dwarf,” he whispers back, cognizant of the others sleeping around them. “But no, I never have.” 

She scootches even closer, propping herself up on her elbow and curling around his back to give him something to lean against, if he chooses. He does. “Have you spent a lot of time down here?” 

“In Orzammar?” 

“Anywhere.” 

“No. To both questions, actually. I was born on the surface, I like sunlight and a cool breeze as much as the rest of you. The long dark makes my skin crawl.” 

“‘The long dark’ sounds like a story.” 

He’s quiet for a long moment and Avriel wonders if she’s wandered into a tale he doesn’t want to tell. 

“Well,” he finally says, so quietly she has to lean in closer still. “There was the time my brother tried to kill me in the deep roads.” 

“What?” she says, slightly louder than a normal volume in her shock, then cringes as Sera starts to stir. They both hold their breath until she stills again. 

“Geez, Sunshine. These aren’t state secrets. I told you about when we found the red lyrium.” 

“You did, but not the rest of it.” 

“I hate the stuff.” He shudders but takes a deep breath and starts again. “Bartrand and I were never very close. He was born in Orzammar, still remembered life down there and would have given anything to go back.” 

“Wait, your parents weren’t surface dwarves? Why did they ever leave?” 

“That,” he says slowly, “is another story for another time. I will tell you, just, let me get this one out first.” 

She doesn’t say anything, giving him space, but she does reach out her free hand, unsure of its reception. 

Her heart flips over—just a little—when he turns his hand palm up under hers and threads their fingers together. His hand engulfs hers, the calluses from Bianca catching on the calluses from her knives, but it’s real and comforting. For them both, she hopes. 

“It was how I met Hawke, actually. She and her brother signed on for an expedition to loot a thaig. He wasn’t always like this, but by the time my mother died, there were few things Bartrand wouldn’t do for gold.”

Varric spins the tale of deception and betrayal for her, quietly as he can. He sometimes punctuates the story with gestures she can just make out in the dim torchlight (none of them had wanted to sleep in the pitch black). 

He never drops her hand, though he does sometimes take it with his as he sketches out Hawke casting a spell with her staff, or Carver’s slashes with his long sword.

By the time the tale ends with his triumphant return to Kirkwall, richer than Bartrand could have imagined getting on this expedition, Avriel can almost forget the quiet whisper where it began: with Varric watching helplessly as his brother locks him in a room in the deep roads to die. 

She’s quiet for a moment and he laughs softly into the dark. “Have I actually rendered you speechless with my tale?” 

She squeezes his hand. “Hardly,” she says. “I’m sorry I brought you down here.”      

Varric pulls her hand up to his mouth and his lips press a kiss to her palm before he tugs further, pulling her face up to his. She catches her breath but all he does is lean his forehead against hers. In the quiet space between them, he whispers what she’s known for a while. “Come on, Sunshine. You’ve gotta know by now that I’d follow you anywhere.” 

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35 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

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