#i've been holding that in for FOUR YEARS now

[revvethasmythh]

listen, now that everything is said and done i'm going to say something i've been thinking but not outright saying for the past nearly four years. frankly, imogen and laudna's relationship is a pale shadow of caleb and veth's and if you really sit and think about it, it's outright embarrassing for the former party. it's like if you saw a beautiful piece of art and tried to emulate it and then the only thing you managed to jot down that was the same was the basic shape and you never added any color when the color was the most important part. imogen and laudna's relationship is formed out of almost the exact same origins (troubled mage who needs to keep a distance from regular society joins up with monstrous misfit with a traumatic backstory and become each other's most important person while traveling place-to-place because they keep getting into trouble in cities). the difference is, genuinely, how much more colorful and lived in caleb and veth's story feels. they met in a podunk county jail and worked together to break out of the place, stayed together for practical reasons (straight-up survival) and then out of genuine friendship. they were hobos in the woods together. they cuddled on the side of the roads on cold nights together. they were genuinely each other's sole lifeline because they were the type of people no one in the world cared about in a very real, visceral way. they were also con artists, and sam and liam worked together to come up with an entire booklet of different cons they used to survive, which come into play surprisingly often during the campaign (Modern Literature, famously, but also Mother's Love and Money Pot featured).

comparatively, we know next to nothing about what imogen and laudna's lives looked like after leaving gelvaan, and the Incident™️ that sent them running in the first place remains amorphous and random no matter how many times the story is told or whatever extra details get added. the people of gelvaan found laudna to be a generically threatening presence (because of her fun-scary appearance and/or kooky-fun-scary behavior) and picked up their torches and pitchforks to run her out of town. imogen heard her thoughts and found them so beautiful she nearly killed two of the townspeople she grew up with the defend her and then they fled into the night together. and that's it. what did they do for two entire years after that? i don't know! neither do you. they don't appear to have struggled for money like caleb and veth did, there's no reference to hard-living, no real reference to what jobs they took to stay afloat, no mention of the practical realities of living as homeless nomads, no mention of towns and cities they'd visited and how those places impacted them. nothing. empty. no color. how did their relationship develop? also don't know! they seem to have slotted together perfectly as friends with no conflict for years before slotting together perfectly as lovers while batting aside all attempts at conflict later. done and dusted, that's the relationship, and people have the gall to call caleb and veth's successor relationship 'soulmatism' when it doesn't hold a candle to what the original offered.

which was, to be clear, endless complexity. i can't tell you how to define it, and i don't think the character's themselves could define it if they tried. sam went into the campaign intending to lean into a familial relationship and quickly realized that wasn't the vibe, course-corrected into veth having a crush on caleb--something sam has said developed fairly early in the campaign.* liam went into the relationship not intending to care about her nearly as much as he ended up doing, then spent the early campaign eps grappling with just how suddenly important she was to him, to the point that, in the face of her potentially dying in episode 20, liam says to sam, "do you want to make my character turn evil already?"** both were surprised at how tightly their characters clung to each other, and developed a deeply caring, highly insular dynamic where they were suspicious of outsiders and desperately guarded each other. with full retrospect, both went into the relationship intending to use each other (caleb for general usefulness/protection and veth, obviously, hoping caleb could change her back one day), then found such deep and tender care that they became each other's worlds. for a time. until nott became veth and veth had a husband and it sent their relationship into a tailspin because no matter how you frame the relationship, caleb clearly felt his feelings for her and the way they behaved together stepped over the line of how one should act with a married woman. after that, he is terrified of the idea that he might not have a place in her life and works so hard to create opportunities to insinuate himself into her present and future (teleportation spells so she can travel home quickly and still return to the group, making room for her family in the tower so she can stay with him, offering to tutor luc in magic to stay in her life, etc). veth gets her body and her life back but fears returning home will be lackluster compared to what she's experienced with the group, starts falling out of love with her husband, and has intense extra-martial feelings for caleb that are canonical. their relationship morphs and changes constantly throughout the campaign, and the one thing about their dynamic that never changes is how deeply and truly they love each other. you want to talk about soulmatism? them being the two party members with fake names who's real names share aspects of each other ("Bren" and "Brenatto") both from small-town dwendalian empire who's lives have been deeply impacted by meddling of the cerberus assembly (veth's in adulthood, caleb's in childhood) and who's deepest traumas are respectively fire and water does the trick for me.

so why is one so popular and the other, particularly as a romantic ship, very much is not? it would be obtuse of me not to immediately point to the fact that imogen and laudna are two pretty, skinny white women who claim to have deliciously little agency in their own stories and provide a blank enough canvas that the relationship can be whatever you want it to be. there's a reason there's so many AU fics for them, after all. caleb and veth on the other hand would center first a relationship between the handsome white fandom-popular sadboi and *checks notes* a self-described ugly, unfeminine goblin with deep neuroses and later a short, fat brown woman who also happens to be a young mother from a small country town. popular fandom, tragically, will almost always turn away from dealing with complexity of the latter for the empty calories of the former regardless of the quality gap between the two. if anything, watching the popularity of imogen and laudna's relationship has cemented my opinion that if veth had been different (either a man or a generically attractive white woman or someone more conventionally pretty just in general), widobrave would have been a massively popular ship, and i think it would have been regardless of veth's marriage. people can forgive a lot to write about their two generically attractive favorites getting together. they're a lot less forgiving for an ugly goblin or a fat, brown young mother, though.

tldr: reject modernity, embrace tradition. ship widobrave

*Talks Machina for C2E88, VOD no longer available, but a paraphrase of the quote can be found here **(2:09:30 on the YouTube VOD).

[writingwithfolklore]

I Cut Out Social Media for 30 Days and It Changed My Life

Okay hefty title, but I mean every word of it.

Over January I followed a book called Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport. I'm sure you've already been lectured to death about how bad technology and social media is for you, so I won't repeat the statistics here. What I will say is that Newport suggests that there are also positives to technology and that abandoning it altogether is not realistic. Instead, he proposes that we define our values, and then use technology to attain them--rather than allowing technology to define what values we should hold.

To do this, Newport suggests a complete "detox" of non-essential technologies for 30 days. That means abstaining from social media, netflix and other streaming services, videogames, etc. But of course still being able to phone loved ones, email for work, and use google maps if you're going somewhere new, etc. In doing this detox, he proposes that we will be able to better understand what values we hold as people, not just as consumers of technology.

He was right.

At first I found it really hard. Right away I noticed that any activity other than doomscrolling and watching endless hours of Youtube took a lot more brain power. I started doing puzzles, reading, writing (a lot!), cooking and baking, and taking many walks with my dog. By the end of the day I'd be fuzzy and exhausted, and all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch my favourite shows. I didn't, but I wanted to.

But then I started to notice my "brain stamina" (I'm sure there's a better term for it but oh well) started to improve. Instead of writing for two hours before getting fuzzy, I could write for four. And then six. And then eight. Slowly, I found myself being able to do more in a day, to focus for longer on one task, and I didn't feel as drained by the end of it. I had a clearer mind, I could remember things a lot better, I was no longer struggling to find really easy words--they just came to me.

This all also resulted in me spending so much more time with my friends and family. I realized that I really valued this time--and that it wasn't something I could replace by hitting 'like' on an instagram post from them. I rediscovered community, passion, and in many ways, humanity.

It was like I was looking at the world in a new way. I started to notice more, be curious about more. I kind of remember being this way as a kid, and I couldn't believe how I had ever let that go. Now, the idea of sitting on my couch and watching hours and hours of Youtube in every moment of my free time feels inconceivable.

However, my 30 days are up, and so Newport suggests setting some rules to reintroduce what technology I believe supports my values. I've decided not to return to Instagram, but that I do value keeping up to date with the gaming community and pop culture, which I do on Youtube. Now, Youtube is something that I watch for a couple hours on weekends, instead of eating up every bit of free time I have. I also value interacting with other writers and the writing community, so I've created a couple hours in my schedule to check Tumblr and my Discord and keep up to date with you guys here.

But now most of my free time is spent reading or writing, or being with my family and friends, and I value that most of all. To demonstrate how much has changed, in the months before my detox, I wrote maybe 2500 words. Since my detox, I've written 40 000. Last year, I read about four books. In just one month during my detox, I read 10.

If this sounds like something you'd be interested in trying for yourself, feel free to reach out to me! I'd love to talk more about my experience and things that worked or didn't work for me. I'd also really recommend the book, it was incredibly helpful in determining what rules were healthy to set and how to get out of technology and then back in with success.

Back to usual content soon :-)

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ RAFAYEL | just friends (special valentine's day)

── ◜rafayel x fem!reader — ◜Rafayel spends the day with his best friend for Valentine's Day. Their last day as best friends — specials from the rest of the LIs soon on my profile

The sound of clinking filled the place as she walked through the door of the cafe. It was Valentine's Day, not her favorite day for sure but she didn't have much to complain about. It was perhaps the fourth year in a row that she spent that day with her best friend, it had become a tradition between the two. After all, Valentine's Day was also about spending time with your friends, right?

"Hey!" She sat down in front of Rafayel who quickly looked up from his phone to look at her. A smile formed on his lips but quickly turned into a frown.

"You're late, do you know how long I've been waiting for you?" He tried to sound annoyed. He always did that every time they saw each other.

She rolled her eyes as she set her bag aside. “Rafayel, I saw you enter the cafeteria when I was walking here.” She raised her eyebrows. He hadn’t waited more than two minutes.

"Fine," Rafayel sighed in defeat. "What do you want to do after this?" he asked as he looked at the menu for something to order.

"I was thinking we could go for a walk in the park… or watch a movie." She shrugged as she looked around. They had spent Valentine's Day together in that place the last four years… but something felt different that day.

Rafayel nodded before returning his gaze to the menu… something felt different and although she looked at him for several seconds without saying anything, she didn't know what was different.

The first time it happened was when they were about to pay for what they had consumed at the cafeteria. She was going to take her share but Rafayel stopped her… again.

"Your friend is a famous artist. Let me pay," he had said as he placed the exact amount of money on the table.

She opened her lips, she wanted to say something… she wanted to say something she had never said before but nothing came out. Fear invaded her and she only nodded. She murmured a thank you and looked at her hands, not understanding why she felt that way. What exactly was she going to tell him? She didn't even know.

"I was just grateful to him," was what she had told herself in her mind.

The next time it happened was when they were walking back to their apartment. There were couples in the park holding hands, having a picnic or spending time together. She smiled thinking about how she and Rafayel would look if they were one of those couples… she felt her whole body tense when she realized she had thought that.

"Are you okay?" Rafayel asked, placing a hand on her shoulder forcing her to blink. She felt embarrassed as she nodded and looked away.

As friends. She had thought of her and Rafayel in that situation as friends. Friends had picnics and spent time together.

"I'm sorry… I was thinking about something." She noticed the frown on his face but simply nodded. He didn't want to pressure her into talking about something she clearly wasn't entirely comfortable with yet.

The next time in the day it happened was when they were watching a romantic movie. The movie was supposed to be more of a comedy but there were still those romantic parts. Romantic parts where for a second she imagined it was her and Rafayel… just for a second.

For a moment she looked away to see him, he seemed so calm with his eyes fixed on the screen and occasionally eating popcorn. But there was something different about him, there was something different in the way she saw him, now his face seemed to her the most perfect thing she had ever seen… And that personality that only she knew. She had a side of Rafayel that no one else had, the playful and fun side. The relaxed and even vulnerable side. The real Rafayel.

"Will it be the same next year?" Rafayel asked as he took a chocolate from the box. The movie had ended more than half an hour ago and they were now sharing a box of chocolates.

"Of course, we always spend Valentine's Day together." She nodded and looked back at the box of chocolates. Each chocolate was supposed to be different and she wanted to make a good choice.

"What if you get a boyfriend?" She was grateful to have her gaze fixed on the box of chocolates so that Rafayel wouldn't see her surprised face. She felt the lump in her throat and had to do her best to pretend she was still choosing a chocolate.

She couldn't imagine spending another Valentine's Day with Rafayel like that after how she had felt all day. What if those feelings kept growing? What if he got a girlfriend? That thought made her want to throw up. She wasn't a jealous person but those feelings helped her confirm that her feelings for him had changed.

"Don't say that… If I get a boyfriend next year it'll be me, you and my boyfriend," she joked. She felt like she was out of her body and mind, that was something she would say if she didn't have feelings for her best friend?

"You have chocolate on your face," Rafayel's voice brought her back to reality.

Especially when he leaned down and his cold fingers touched her cheek, his thumb wiping away the chocolate on her face even though if she was honest, she was sure there wasn't any on her cheek. But Rafayel was too close to her.

Too close. Too close. Too close.

His eyes met hers, even in the dimness of the room she could see that different gleam in his eyes and for a moment she wished he would lean closer. Until there was no distance between them.

"Tell me i shouldn't do this," he murmured, he was so close she could feel his breathing and maybe if she stayed silent long enough, she could hear his heart pounding.

She looked into his eyes and at the way they seemed to beg her to respond. She had always liked Rafayel's eyes, they were different and unique… she liked when they looked at her. She liked the way he was looking at her right now, she wanted him to look at her like that forever. She didn't want to wake up tomorrow and just be his best friend.

"Do it," she murmured without thinking. Right now she wasn't thinking about anything else except the way Rafayel looked at her and wondering how his lips would feel on hers.

That was enough for him, that was all he needed. He leaned down to finally press his lips against hers as his fingers caressed her cheek. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him and deepening the kiss. She let out a gasp and the box of chocolates fell to the floor.

Rafayel's lips were the best thing she had ever tasted, she wanted more, so much more. She didn't even care when she felt her lungs empty. Her hands clung to his shirt, silently begging him don't break the kiss.

And even though he wanted to spend the rest of the night kissing her lips, he pulled away from her. His breathing was labored but he didn't break the distance and his hand caressed her cheek again.

"Next Valentine's Day, you and I won't be your boyfriend," he murmured, kissing her cheek and then leaving a soft peck on her lips.

"No?" she asked confused, her voice still shaky from her labored breathing. Rafayel shook his head, pulling away from her just enough to look into her eyes.

"No… It'll just be you and me." She wanted to look at him and give him that confused look but he kissed her cheek again. She could feel his lips brushing her cheek again and again. "I'll be your boyfriend."

She felt the air escape from her lungs. She turned her face to look at him, she wanted to say something but nothing came out of her lips. Besides, what was she going to say? Was she going to refuse? No. She didn't want to be just his best friend anymore, she wanted more. She wanted Rafayel to kiss her like that all the time, she wanted Rafayel to look at her like that.

She didn't say no. She didn't say anything that was enough for him to bring their lips together again.

[roxygen22]

Bus Stop (Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Nic: Good morning

You grabbed your phone from your nightstand before you had even fully blinked the sleep from your eyes. A message from Nic was waiting for you. You giggled and kicked your feet in excitement as you held your phone to your chest. Last night wasn't just a dream, after all.

You: Morning!

Your fingers typed wildly.

You: You're quite the early bird.

Relunctantly tossing the warm covers away from your body, you got out of bed to start your morning routine, bringing your phone along so as to not miss anything. As you leaned over the sink to brush your teeth, you felt it vibrate on the tile counter. Just seeing his name on the screen made your heart beat a little faster.

Nic: I try to start the day with a run or bike ride. Just got back inside. Gotta hop in the shower and get ready for class. What time is your lunch break?

Blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of him being soaked in sweat or lathered up in soap. Too soon, you cautioned yourself. Thank goodness he couldn't see you.

You: Usually at noon, unless a mtg runs long.

Nic: K. I'll give you a call on my way to the station, if that's OK?

You bit your lip. How to sound positive but not TOO eager...

You: Yes, please :)

The morning crawled and meetings droned on and on. Several times you caught yourself daydreaming, staring out the window or drawing abstract shapes on your paper instead of taking notes. As the clock ticked closer to noon, your knee bounced under your desk in nervous excitement, impatiently waiting for your phone to light up.

Like clockwork, your phone buzzed in your hand at 12:00 on the dot as you ran out to the rear courtyard for a semi-private spot to talk.

"You are quite punctual," you answered. Nic chuckled.

"I've been holding my phone in my hand just staring at it for a solid two minutes waiting for the right time. How has your day been?"

"Oh, [nervous laughter] I'm not exactly sure. I spent most of the morning off in la-la-land. I had a little trouble paying attention."

"Funny you should say that. I had the same problem in class."

"Oh, yeah? What were you thinking about?"

"You first," he teased.

"No, you."

"Alright, since we're not in person to settle this with rock-paper-scissors like mature adults, how about we both say it on three?"

You laughed. "Ok. I can appreciate a good compromise. 1...2...3..."

"You."/"Last night."

"Really?"/"Really?"

There was an awkward pause that was probably not as long as it felt. You broke the silence.

"I was stoked to see your message this morning. Confirmation that I didn't dream the whole thing up," you admitted.

"I haven't had a fun evening out like that in ages. I...I felt like- like you were just so easy to talk to."

"I had fun, too," you replied. "I, uh...I dreamed about that kiss. It's been - a while - since I've been kissed like that."

"Me, too."

"Dream or a long time since the last?"

"Both."

"Awwwww!" you vocalized. "Well, you don't have to wait that long again." Your boldness startled you, so you started backtracking in a panic. "I mean, if, uh, that's what you want. Because that's what I want. I mean...," you trailed off and groaned as you smacked your forehead with your palm. "I'm going to shut up now."

"Please don't," Nic replied. "It's adorable when you ramble when you're flustered."

"You do seem to have that effect on me." The tops of your ears burned with embarrassment at your admission.

He chuckled. "So I've noticed."

After a beat of silence, you asked, "So, just curious, how long has it been for you? It's been just over two years for me."

"Almost four years. I've been trying to work on feeling whole on my own before getting involved with someone again."

"Kudos for putting in that work on yourself. My ex did not. He projected a lot of pent-up baggage onto me. I've been on a break since. It was toxic and lasted longer than it should have, and I've been in no rush to get mixed up with the wrong person again.

"But now?" Nic eagerly implored.

"Nowwwwww I think I could be persuaded by the right person," you hinted.

"Ah, I see." He paused. "[Y/N], I...," he cleared his throat. "Do you like Italian food?"

Somewhat taken aback by the jarring transition, you stuttered, "Y-yeah, I love Italian." You worried that you threw him off by mentioning your ex. Maybe it was too much too soon?

"There's this great place near the bus stop where I usually get on at Lexington and 1st. I was thinking we could go get a bite to eat tomorrow after work?"

Whew. Maybe you didn't scare him off after all. "That sounds delicious. I'd love that."

"Great! I'll meet you at the bus stop and walk you over. But for now, you should probably actually eat something on your lunch break. I just made it to the news station and need to go get settled in."

You pulled the phone away from your face to check the time. You only had about 10 minutes left. "Alas, responsibilities befall us all. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow. Bye, [Y/N]."

"Bye, Nic."

You ended the call and stared down at the dark phone screen in your hand. The fading excitement felt like you were crashing from a sugar rush. You slowly got up from the bench and shuffled back inside to get your food.

Your coworkers were standing at the ready to interrogate you. They knew you generally hated talking on the phone, but this time, you were all smiles.

"Tell us all about him, honey," the receptionist, Henrietta, demanded. "We need some excitement around here."

"What? How did you...."

"Dear, you have lovesick written all over your face!"

You blushed hard. Before you knew it, you were encircled by colleagues rolling over in their desk chairs as you recounted spotting Nic on the bus and working up the courage to say hello, and how magical that first unexpected date and kiss were last night. Once they were done peppering you with questions and chairs were rolled back to desks, Henrietta came up to you and gave you a hug.

"I'm glad you are finally putting yourself back out there after that jerk, Matt. You deserve to find love again, and he sounds like a wholesome guy."

"Thanks, Etta." You patted her arm and gently squeezed. "Time for me to come down out of the clouds and get back to work, I guess."

Small text exchanges throught the rest of the day kept you going, but you craved to hear Nic's voice again. Tomorrow felt like forever away. You knew you'd need to distract yourself with a rare visit to the gym that evening to pass the time and wear yourself out.

You were walking to the bus stop after work when you felt your phone buzz in your bag. It was a long, repeated vibration - someone was calling you. You fumbled through the main section of the bag, cursing yourself for not putting your phone in the pocket it belonged for quick access. Once in hand, you stared at the screen. Nic?

"Hello?"

"Is now a bad time?"

"No, not at all. I just wasn't expecting to get to talk to you again today. I'm off work and walking to the bus. How was the rest of your day?"

"Not bad, but I have to say it definitely peaked at lunchtime. I wanted to hear your voice again."

You chuckled. "Same here. Sounds like you are walking, too."

"The meeting isn't far from the station, so I like to get more steps in if weather permits."

"Maybe your habits will rub off on me."

He didn't respond, but you could hear him breathing on the other end of the line.

"Getting up early routinely and going for a run, walking instead of taking the bus or taxi. I have a gym membership, but I'm the worst about actually going," you added.

"Oh," he replied, followed by anxious laughter. "Hey, I made it to the meeting spot. I'll talk to you later, ok?"

"Ok. Have a good night!"

"Bye, [Y/N]."

<><><><><>

There was no message waiting for you the next morning. Trying not to think anything of it, despite the strange end to the last two conversations, and to keep things balanced, you decided to send one yourself to start things off.

You: Morning!

You had already made it to work and started on your case load before Nic responded with a simple "good morning" in return three hours later. You were elbow deep in paperwork and couldn't break away to message again until lunch, which was later than usual.

No additional texts. And no call. Desperately trying not to overthink, you reminded yourself that he said he would talk to you later, so there had to be at least some intent to make contact. He had given you no reason not to trust his word, but you couldn't take it any longer.

You: Sorry for the radio silence. It's been a busy day prepping for a case.

Nic: No worries. At work, too.

You: Still on for dinner? I should be at your stop about 5:40

Nic: Yep, see you soon

You chalked his stilted, near transactional messages up to being busy at work. For once, you were grateful for the hectic pace at work to keep your brain from spiraling. At the end of the day, you gathered your things and took a deep breath before leaving the office. You reminded yourself that you were beyond capable of handling whatever the evening threw at you.

You boarded the bus and mindlessly watched the scrolling marquee of upcoming cross streets. Your heart rate surged with each stop that brought you closer to Nic. What if he wasn't there? What if he was acting strange because he's planning to cut things off?

The next stop was yours. You stepped off and looked around once you cleared the bus and breathed a sigh of relief to see Nic leaning against a nearby pole. One worry down. He walked over toward you.

"Hi," you said, trying to sound chipper.

"Hey." He bent down and gave you a small peck of a kiss on your cheek. He looked...sad. Not the greeting you had hoped for. "Ready to eat?"

Truthfully, no. But you weren't going to fill him in on your anxieties yet, so you just nodded and walked alongside as he led the way to the restaurant in silence. Something was obviously up. You could see an Italian restaurant sign up the street, but he paused before you made it there.

Nic stepped over to a nearby bench and gestured for you to sit beside him. You did so nervously, clutching your bag in your lap so he couldn't see your hands shake.

"Hey, listen," he started. "Before we, uh, go in, I...I need to tell you something. I owe it to you and to myself."

Your eyes widened. "Oh, God. You're not, like, still married or something, are you?" Your voice raised, garnering attention from passersby.

"What? No, oh, no no, not that." Nic reached out as if he wanted to hold your hand, but hesitated before pulling it back to his leg. He looked around to see if anyone was still paying attention and took a deep breath before locking eyes with you. "[Y/N], I am a recovering addict. I have been sober for about three years now."

That is not what you expected. Your brain churned through a thousand different responses, trying to figure out the right thing to say to such big news. Before you could say anything, he continued.

"I go to NA meetings every Wednesday evening. They reminded me that... that...if we are going to get to know each other, I need you to know me. Who I am. That is part of my identity and daily challenge to continue to be my best self." His shoulders fell as he looked down at the sidewalk away from you. "I also...I wanted to give you a chance to end this early if that is too much. You deserve to be with the right person, and I understand that that may not be me."

Nic jumped slightly when you hooked your finger under his chin to lift his head up, where you met him with a soft smile.

"That is nothing to be ashamed of," you replied slowly. "Thank you for sharing. I know that couldn't have been easy, but at least now I better understand why you weren't talking much today. I thought...I thought maybe I said something wrong yesterday."

"What?! No! Oh no, I'm so sorry that I made you think that." He pulled your hand up to his lips to kiss it. "You- you're a breath of fresh air. A fresh start with someone who isn't stuck on the image of the old me."

You released a deep breath you didn't even know you had been holding. "I must admit that I can't even begin to know what your journey has been like. Or will be like. But I'm willing to take things one day at a time to find out."

"One day at a time is all I can ask for." Nic gently leaned his forehead against yours. "Thank you."

You were enjoying the closeness until your stomach betrayed you with a loud grumble. Now that your worries had eased, you were terribly famished. Nic sat up and wiped a tear off his cheek, laughing as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He stood and held his hand out to you.

"Hungry?"

"Starved," you replied as you stood and followed him toward the restaurant once again. "So what's good here?"

"Well, I prefer their spaghetti over their penne..."

<><><><><>

The End

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess @bluizh @groovy-lady @pmak2002 @itshonestlynotme @parkbabyj @genesis-margarita @superlegend216 @crypticslytherin

[anartisticalniche]

Glass Barrier-Lockdown Protocol AU

This fic is based on this art right here: https://www.tumblr.com/anartisticalniche/775015960570675200/there-was-always-a-thin-glass-separating-us?source=share

Enjoy this sad thing lol

“Inmate G-5683, you have visitors.”

The bearded man barely moved his head from his side as he sighed and got up from his bed.

He was sick and tired of relying informations to SMG1 and 2.

It's time they got their shit together and caught his ex-boss.

He's got nothing else to say to them anyways.

He might have been an elite guard but that didn't mean he got to see him up close; not even his superior Wren did.

The guard bots used their laser chains to hold onto his cuffs and neck restraint, guiding him like a dog.

His eye bags were deep and visible, no light in his eyes aside from the luminescent one from the chain.

The swift sound from the door sounded off as his gaze remained on the floor.

He was led to his usual spot, seated in front of the protective glass dividing him from anything that basically was freedom on the outside.

He sighed, preparing for the questions.

“Three…?”

His red eyes took a second but eventually widened when he glanced up and saw the softest gaze on the most beautiful face he had ever seen in his life.

“Hey… how are you holding up?”

Tears threatened to escape from blue eyes across him.

The imprisoned man opened his mouth like a fish.

Eventually words left him: “What… what are you doing here?”

Four smiled as he tipped his head to the side: “Can’t I come visit you?”

“You legally can't yeah-” he said he looked at him with wide eyes; “you have to stay a hundred miles away from me according to the court-”

He huffed and rolled his eyes: “I guess time doesn't matter much to you when you're in your cell. Three years have already passed. That thing they said doesn't apply anymore”.

The scientist said it so casually but to the prisoner it felt like another nail dipping into his skin. Just to let him know that he's staying there forever… to the point time doesn't matter anymore.

Four immediately realized his mistake when he saw his face: “Ah shoot wait I didn't mean it like that- I'm just- I said it because now I can come see you! Isn't that great?”

He was trying to lighten up the mood, but there was no way it could work.

“Yeah… great.”

The raven's eyes clouded with sadness, but he was still hopeful.

“I've missed you…”

Three glanced back up: god how the hell was he still allowed to make puppy eyes like that- it will always make his stomach flip and heart race…

“Yeah? You've missed the one person that was sent to kill you?”

He said it so bitterly and he didn't know why he even said it why the hell did open his mouth-

But the response he got was as calm as ever.

“Yeah… maybe I'm wrong to feel this way, but I've forgiven you Three. You know that.”

Four’s eyes were watering and god was it contagious to see him like that.

Three inhaled…

“I’ve… I’ve missed you too.”

They shared bittersweet smiles, until Four snapped out of it and said: “Okay, I wanna tell you what we've been up to! Me, Mario and Meggy found a job with the intergalactic police! We are helping 1 and 2 find that bitch that wanted us dead! Isn't that great?!”

Three’s brain short circuited.

He growled in anger.

“Why the fuck are you doing that?! You're gonna get yourself killed!”

Four smiled confidently: “Nuh-huh! I'm a smart guy, remember? My wits are what is keeping me alive eheh!”

He groaned at his dumbassery.

For a scientist, this man was anything but realistic-

But that was what made him fall in love with him, wasn't it.

His never ending need to dream, to be positive if not a little reckless.

He wanted to hold him.

To strangle him and hug him at the same time.

He was so FRUSTRATING-

“You PROMISE ME. Nothing is going to happen to you. Okay?”

“Aw you care about me…” he said, his eyes having that flirtatious glint he had back in the ship.

Goddamnit.

Three let his head fall on the tiny desk.

“Just promise you moron-”

“But of course! Me and the squad make the best trio ever in the police department! With my wits and the siblings' destructive methods, we are bound to catch him!”

Three found that super hard to believe.

It was a miracle Mario didn't blow up the ship back before Wren could.

“After all, gotta make it before you come out of here, no?”

He glanced back up to him, his sure gaze still staring at him.

He was still convinced he was gonna be let out.

Despite KNOWING his crimes.

Despite… despite being sent to kill him…

He was not naive. Sure he was dumb sometimes, but he knew… he knew how the system worked.

Yet he still chose to dream.

He could cry for real right now.

“Yeah… when I get out.”

The scientist smiled softly, his gloved hand coming up the glass.

“And when you do… I wanna feel your hand against mine, okay? Nothing separating us anymore, not even layers of fabric.”

Red eyes glistened.

The cuffed hand itching upwards too, spreading against his own on the other side.

“I can't wait…”

“Time’s up.”

The robotic voice shattered the atmosphere as harsh reality settled in.

Three got yanked back, both bots on each side of him dragging him upwards.

The scientist’s smile strained but he tried to keep it on his face as he called back to him.

“THREE! REMEMBER, I LOVE YOU! NEVER FORGET THAT!”

He saw a glimpse of his messy bearded face glancing back at him before the door closed up, leaving him alone in the room as another security bot gently handled him to be escorted outside of the meeting room.

The walk back to his small reconnaissance ship was a breeze, and automatically he seated in his pilot post and started it up, exiting the prison’s hangar.

Once a few miles away, in the dark cosmos, a drop of water followed by many others descended on his control column and jacket.

Four didn’t even know when he started crying, but he couldn't stop, and despite telling himself to take back control of his emotions so that he wouldn't risk crashing somewhere because he couldn't see, he couldn't stop the hiccuping and tears.

And so he kept letting himself go, not knowing that back in the prison, the one he came to see was doing the same thing, leaning crouched on his side against the wall near his bed, letting out wails of despair and ache without stopping.

[aceofwhump]

I really need some good peter petrelli whump fics bc I am obsessed with him now (I fully blame you for it BTW 😂)

Do you have any good ones to recommend?

YOU AND ME BOTH MY FRIEND!!! (and I take full responsibility lol 😂)

I'm honest to god shocked by how little Peter Petrelli whump fics I have been able to find. I expected ao3 or even fanfic.net to be full of fics for him and his hurt/comfort but I've been struggling to find things. I also avoid all the fics that are shippy becauses it's not my thing BUT! I do have a few fics I can share that I've found:

an overflowing cup by NahaFlowers Summary: In the hospital after he collapses, Peter has another dream about the future; about Nathan. Meanwhile, Nathan tries to comfort a comatose Peter having a nightmare.

Poor Peter by Emilee Crumby Summary: my typical sort of fluff, sick Peter. who doesn't love a needy hero?

Fourteen Days by Polly Summary: Ever wondered what might have happened if Nathan HAD managed to have his little brother declared mentally unwell, all for his own good? Knowing the Petrellis, only a world of new problems and angst

Fallen From Grace by AmiNoo Summary: The worst scar of all is the loss of innocence... When Peter becomes a victim of a senseless attack, he puts his entire faith and, even his life, in the hands of his hero: Nathan Petrelli. rape tw

Touch and Go by GoldSeven Summary: Peter has been shot by Danko, so what happens between Nathan flying him to safety and the next scene on the rooftop? Filling in the gap in episode 3x19, "Exposed".

Four Times Nathan Saved Peter by silverlake7169 Summary: A view on the brothers throughout the years, all the ways their relationship changes, and one way it doesn’t.

Edge by Selena Summary: Peter has more than one reason for letting himself fall.

Petrelli Family Reunited 07 ep tag by Lahaera Summary: Nathan, Peter, Claire and Angela in the aftermath of Peter's “brief death”. Missing Petrelli family scenes from 119 ep “.07”

can't keep my eyes from the circling sky by morgay Summary: Peter thinks he can fly, endangering himself in the process. Nathan worries.

To Have and To Hold by Winter Sapphire Summary: The nightmares just wouldn't let up. They kept coming and coming, and Peter was sure that if it were possible for him to die he would have been dead three nights ago.

Angel by Hermione Eveningfall Summary: Claire has only been living in Manhattan for a couple of weeks, when Peter's health takes a sudden turn for the worst.

[kyouka-supremacy]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[griseldabanks]

Comfyvember 2

Story: The Four (original) Prompts: Favourite song — Holding hands — Walking and talking

Note: The first syllable of "Myrian/Myriath" is meant to be pronounced MEER, not MIRE.

The bed was soft, the blankets warm, the darkness eased by silver bands of moonlight that stretched across the floor through the wide open windows that let in the soothing rush and sigh of waves rolling onto the beach. And yet Timor could not sleep.

The boy sat on the low bench by the window nearest his bed, hugging his knees to his chest as he gazed out over the sea. The moon was only half-full, yet it limned the crests of the gentle waves as they curled over and tumbled back down into the black depths.

For once, Timor wasn't afraid of the darkness or his unfamiliar surroundings. His heart was too heavy for fear. Too numb.

Perhaps that's the answer I've been seeking, he thought with a sigh of bone-deep weariness. The key to courage is to be so wounded you can feel nothing more.

“That is the sigh of a man twice your age,” a voice said softly behind him.

Timor's heart didn't so much leap as give a feeble lurch of surprise. It helped that he instantly recognized Farawin's voice. He didn't look up as the Myrian crossed the room on softly slippered feet. “C-Can't sleep,” Timor mumbled, still staring out into the dark night.

“I thought as much.” Farawin stopped at his side, folding long-fingered hands that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. “That is why I sought you out.”

“Even if you t-tuck me in, I won't b-be able t-to sleep.”

“I am not here to play nursemaid, my friend. But as long as we are both awake...will you walk with me?”

Timor looked up at him. Farawin's pale skin was luminous in the moonlight, the silvery scale-like patches of skin on his cheeks and neck shimmering in a way they didn't in full daylight. His long, golden hair had been washed and pulled back in an elaborate web of braids such as Timor hadn't seen since the first day they'd met. But unlike that day (so long ago it seemed), there was nothing but compassion and understanding in those sea-green eyes.

Farawin held out a hand. With another weary sigh, Timor took it and let his friend help him to his feet.

It wasn't until they'd passed quietly through the corridors of the Myrian palace and stepped out onto the main street that Timor realized Farawin had never let go of his hand. He didn't mind, though. It felt good to have something to hold onto.

There were few people out at this time of night, so for most of their midnight stroll, there was no one to stare at the elegant Myrian prince walking hand-in-hand with a scrawny, dark-haired human boy who walked with slumped shoulders and nibbled at the finely embroidered sleeve of the tunic he'd been given.

After a few minutes, Timor realized the white cobblestones of the main street of Myriath were fading away into a simple stone-lined path. “Where are we g-going?”

“To the Ash-Phanash.” Farawin pointed along the path they followed, which led to a round building on the edge of the cliff Timor had seen out his window. The dome shone white in the moonlight.

“What is it?”

“I think you would call it a temple,” Farawin said. “It is where we sing praises to the Great Eagle, and where we hold meetings and rituals. When the moon is full, singers pass in and out in shifts, so that the building is filled with unceasing song both night and day.” He looked down at Timor with a little smile. “But tonight, we shall have the Ash-Phanash all to ourselves.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. The Ash-Phanash had no doors blocking the entryway, so they simply walked in through an archway made of marble or some other white stone. After passing through a dark passageway where Timor clung even tighter to Farawin's hand, they emerged in an enormous round room.

Far above their heads, the dome they'd seen before stretched like the sky above them. Seats rose in tiers all around them, carved from the same white stone and covered with small round cushions for people to sit on. There were no torches or candles to light the enormous room, but somehow it didn't seem dark and gloomy. There were windows all around, letting in the moonlight as well as the fresh sea breeze.

Farawin led the way to the highest tier of seats, and they settled down on matching red cushions near a window that looked back over Myriath in the distance. Timor was glad to get off his feet; he hadn't realized how far they'd walked. Not to mention that he was still recovering from their flight to the island.

Peace seemed to permeate the very walls of the Ash-Phanash. Timor closed his eyes, listening to the distant echoes of the surf crashing against the cliff far below. Something in his chest loosened. He opened his eyes again and looked up at Farawin. “D-Do you have any songs for-for...for when you've...l-lost somebody?”

The sorrow that had been swimming deep in Farawin's eyes now bobbed to the surface. “Yes,” he murmured. “Would you like to hear one?”

Timor nodded.

Instead of bursting into song then and there, Farawin got to his feet and walked back down to the center of the amphitheater, motioning for Timor to remain seated. When he finally got to the small dais they'd passed on their way up, Farawin turned to face Timor again. He looked very small and far away.

Putting a hand over his heart, Farawin opened his mouth, and a melody as pure and clear as moonlight poured from his lips, as distinctly as if Farawin still stood beside him. Timor couldn't understand the words, if words they even were, but he sat there and let them wash over him like the waves on the beach.

In fact, there was something to the music that was reminiscent of the ebb and flow of the tide, of the wind rustling the trees, of water lapping against a boat, of the swelling and diminishing of the moon.

Time rolled on. The sea was ever-changing, yet ever the same. Timor closed his eyes again, and felt something like peace fill his chest where before had only been pain.

[sortanonymous]

You hear about the one-hit wonder all the time, but you know what we need to discuss more? What I call "one-hit blunders". And no, I'm not talking about bad one-hit wonders.

I mean where the artist is actually really good, but not only did only one of their songs become popular, but it was the worst possible lone hit for them. Either the song just sucks, it's a really bad representation of the artist, or it's both.

Exhibit A: Tiny Tim

Oh my dude, Tiny Tim.

[astramachina]

you know. it only just occurred to me that i've never shared a particular assortment of OCs on here??? (<- notoriously bad at talking about his own cretins and knows it) they've been on the mind lately because i wholly intend to torment a couple of them this year but i'm not quite sure as to how yet soo.

i feel like y'all might be partial to a certain Dr. Thorne because she's very normal and very well-adjusted (lie). she's also 6'2 and once beat the shit out of someone with a fire extinguisher. she's a very cool and swell gal and there's nothing wrong with her at all. :)

[bluebellhairpin]

one of my big flexes is that my family name means something in my town.

[mortalityplays]

talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.

I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.

I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?

This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.

At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.

EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.

Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.

When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.

prezzemolo

I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.

[the-gay-prometheus]

.

[gutttings]

puts my face in my hands and screams

[deadpresidents]

"What emerged in two interviews with Trump, and conversations with more than a dozen of his closest advisers and confidants, were the outlines of an imperial presidency that would reshape America and its role in the world. To carry out a deportation operation designed to remove more than 11 millions people from the country, Trump told me, he would be willing to build migrant detention camps and deploy the U.S. military, both at the border and inland. He would let red states monitor women's pregnancies and prosecute those who violate abortion bans. He would, at his personal discretion, withhold funds appropriated by Congress, according to top advisers. He would be willing to fire a U.S. Attorney who doesn't carry out his order to prosecute someone, breaking with a tradition of independent law enforcement that dates from America's founding. He is weighing pardons for every one of his supporters accused of attacking the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, more than 800 of whom have pleaded guilty or been convicted by a jury. He might not come to the aid of an attacked ally in Europe or Asia if he felt that country wasn't paying enough for its own defense. He would gut the U.S. civil service, deploy the National Guard to American cities as he sees fit, close the White House pandemic-preparedness office, and staff his Administration with acolytes who back his false assertion that the 2020 election was stolen."

-- "How Far Would He Go", TIME Magazine's interviews with Donald Trump, April 30, 2024.

I know we're saturated in coverage of Trump and it's easy (and probably better for our mental health) to usually ignore most of the articles when we see them, especially since he's so full of shit and infuriating. But it's also important to recognize that he is going to be the Republican nominee for President and he could absolutely be elected in November, and if you thought his first term was scary and dangerous, you need to understand that in a second term he's going to have people around him that are better prepared and VERY willing to do the crazy shit that he wants to do to this country. They aren't even hiding the fact that they are seeking vengeance against political opponents whom they feel have wronged them, and are ready to fundamentally dismantle the democratic foundations that are barely holding this country together after nearly 250 years.

Just look at what Trump says about the people who he incited to attack the United States Capitol in an attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election and halt the peaceful transfer of power that has happened every four years since 1789:

"Trump has sought to recast an insurrectionist riot as an act of patriotism. 'I call them the J-6 patriots,' he say. When I ask whether he would consider pardoning every one of them, he says, 'Yes, absolutely.' As Trump faces dozens of felony charges, including for election interference, conspiracy to defraud the United States, willful retention of national-security secrets, and falsifying business records to conceal hush-money payments, he has tried to turn legal peril into a badge of honor."

Oh, and please note that Trump -- a former President of the United States and possible future President of the United States -- said on the record in these interviews with TIME: "There is a definite antiwhite feeling in the country and that can't be allowed either." We are at a point where political leaders are outright saying that in this country again, and it's because of Donald Trump.

So, take the time to recognize that Trump is straight-up telling us the country we're going to be living in if he wins again in November. And understand that your vote matters -- and WHO you vote for matters -- because, as I've been saying for years now, ELECTIONS HAVE FUCKING CONSEQUENCES.

[pseudowho]

Stoic

When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.

Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.

A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"

"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"

"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"

"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"

Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.

Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.

"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."

Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.

"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"

"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"

"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"

"--why are we doing this--"

"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"

Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"

"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"

Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"

"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"

Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.

"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"

The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.

"...what did I miss?"

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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀