#let alone find comforting and worth engaging with

[canisalbus]

I love your art so much. There is something so distinctive about how tender and warm you draw Vasco and Machete and I love it all it just makes my heart melt. I love the dynamic of the catholic queer identity you have for them it's so distinctive and you do it so well. Keep up the amazing work, you are honestly one of my favorite if not my favorite artist you bring me so much comfort with your work.

.

[astrocafecoffee]

Solar return observation ☀️

✨ For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

🌿 My masterlist

Let's go !!

🧡 sun in the 8th house means there can be a heightened interest in the occult, astrology, spirituality or the hidden aspects of life. You might find yourself drawn to exploring the mysteries of existence, delving into psychological or esoteric studies.

🧡 Saturn in 11th house means you may find that some friendships are tested, leading to the realisation of which connections are truly meaningful and worth maintaining.

🧡 Moon in the 12th house means you might feel a desire to withdraw from the hustle and bustle of daily life to spend more time alone. this can be beneficial for introspection and self discovery but be mindful of not becoming too isolated.

🧡 part of fortune in 5th house - if you are involved in any form of performance or entertainment such as acting, dancing or public speaking this can be a highly successful and rewarding year.

🧡 Uranus in the 1st house means others may see you as exciting ,dynamic and unpredictable. your unique qualities and originality can attract attention and admiration.

🧡 Groom conjunct Vertex- you may meet your fs that year.

🧡 Boda conjunct sun - either you will get married or engaged.

🧡 Juno in 7th house means you might have a clear vision of what you want in a partner and what you expect from a relationship.

🧡 if you have North node in 12th house then pay close attention to your dreams and intuitive insights as they can provide valuable guidance and messages from your subconscious.

🧡 Taurus rising means you may find yourself drawn to comfort and luxury more than usual.

🧡 Venus in 10th house means others perceive you as charming ,attractive and likable.

🧡 Mars in 4th house may signify conflicts with family members.

🧡 Capricorn mc means you are likely to prioritize long term planning and stability in your career. you may take steps to secure your future whether through investments ,career advancements or building a solid professional network.

🧡 if you have Vertex in your 6th house then it's a time to pay attention to your physical well-being and perhaps make positive changes to your health routines.

🧡 Jupiter in 2nd house can inspire a spirit of generosity and philanthropy. you may feel inclined to share your wealth or resources with others contributing to charitable causes or supporting those in need.

🧡 Groom conjunct POF - meeting with your significant other/ spouse.

🧡 Sagittarius stellium - frequent travels.

🧡 if you are married and want a baby and if you have 5th house stellium, then you can expect your pregnancy that year. Congratulations 🎉

🧡 Ceres in 5th house also a indicator of being pregnant.

🧡 Saturn in 4th house - family problems can occur.

🧡 Pluto in 7th house - issues of power and control may become prominent in your relationships Both in romantic and platonic.

🧡 Uranus in 10th house - sudden changes or unexpected developments in your career.

🧡 leo rising means this year you may find yourself drawn to activities or situations that allow you to shine and Captivate others with your enthusiasm and charm.

🧡 sun conjunct juno means your relationships may become more visible or influential in your public or professional life during this period.

🧡Moon in 2nd house suggests emotional support or financial contributions from family members or closed loved ones.

🧡 Jupiter in 12th house - you may be drawn to meditation, dream analysis, or psychological studies that help you understand hidden aspects of your psyche and spiritual self.

🧡1st house stellium can indicate a fresh start or a new chapter of your life., Can influence your physical appearance too.

🧡moon in 5th house means a focus on nurturing your inner child.

🧡 Uranus in 5th house can indicate unexpected romantic connections or surprises in relationships.

🧡north node in 1st house indicates a sense of restlessness and a desire for new experiences.

🧡 Jupiter in 7th house - marriage can occur.

🧡 Chiron in the 10th house means that the year will bring a focus on healing and mentorship in your career and public image.

🧡 Venus conjunct saturn means fear of loss and abandonment in romantic relationships.

🧡 Fama conjunct ascendent/ in 1st house/ 11th house / 10th house means gaining fame / recognition/ reputation that year.

🧡 if fama it's in 7th house then your relationship may bring fame.

🧡 Webb (3041) conjunct groom meaning gaining fame with your partner in social media.

Ends here.....

✨ solar return indicators

Thanks for reading.

- Piko ✨

[waldau-archived]

hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!

here you go anon, hope you like this :)

reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

cheol brainrot go brrrr

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

technically speaking, the party’s going fine.

despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.

and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.

you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.

instead, he’d asked you out.

it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.

suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.

no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.

okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.

you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.

“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”

you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.

you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.

it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.

somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.

“do you have a death wish or something?”

you choose not to grace him with an answer.

“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.

“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.

it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.

“i don’t know, do you?”

he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”

you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”

“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.

“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”

“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”

you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.

seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.

“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”

you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”

“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”

“and if i was wrong?”

“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”

"you're too trusting, you know that?"

"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."

you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”

“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”

“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.

“how will you know if you don’t try?”

“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”

“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”

again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.

seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”

you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.

“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.

“please tell me?”

you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”

“what was it?”

“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”

seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”

you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”

“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.

“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”

you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.

“people?”

“some of my close friends.”

that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”

“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”

he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”

“want to have you?”

you nod, breath trapped in your throat.

“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.

you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.

"yeah as in?"

“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”

you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.

"if i'll let him, he says."

"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.

“this isn’t a joke?”

he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.

“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”

you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”

seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”

you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”

he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”

you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.

he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”

“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”

seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”

“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”

“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.

“you need to hear me say it?”

“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”

“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.

“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.

it's your turn to blush now.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

[ryssabrin]

i feel like people who don’t like solas or solavellan have such a warped perspective of what the romance is and how fans of it actually engage in it. like i’ve seen a lot of (most likely het dudes lol) on reddit say they tried it to see what the fuss was but felt it was “demeaning” and i’ve seen it described as literally a horror story where solas is manipulating and using and lying to a young impressionable lavellan who gives up her entire identity for him and becomes a complete doormat to all the awful shit he does. that’s never been my experience and i kinda just want to ramble about how i see it and what i find romantic about it?

so full disclosure, if veilguard had come out a few years ago with how they portrayed lavellan and solavellan i might have been pretty disappointed. i think there is a subset of the solavellan fanbase that likes the wolf/halla or student/professor thing and they play their lavellan younger and agreeing almost without question to everything solas says. i see the appeal but i never played my lavellan that way and i really like the dynamic of it when lavellan actually goes against his advice at times. solas is a character that needs to have his preconceived biases questioned. especially in inquisition when he’s still coming to terms with the fact that the modern people of thedas are in fact people lol. so i was concerned at the prospect of my lavellan being taken out of my hands and having to listen to her make excuses for him and submit to everything he says. (which tbf i don’t think is how she actually comes across in dav, but that was a worry.)

however when i replayed my canon dai run this year, i realized i was closer to the age i always saw my lavellan as (early 30s), and as my lavellan is probably the bioware pc i’ve always played closest to my own personality, i took the opportunity to tweak her a bit and make some different choices. i’ve (hopefully lol) matured and grown a lot since i was 24 and so rather than going for the snarky sarcastic cool girl vibes i opted to play her with more diplomatic and caring choices. it made me see the solas romance in a completely new light. rather than some sort of student/professor dynamic or a pride and prejudice-esque rivals-to-lovers vibe where lavellan is fighting for his respect the whole time, what stuck out to me was how much their connection builds simply because lavellan is kind to solas. she hears him out when he wants to give his opinions and advice, she respects his expertise on the fade and spirits, and she offers him comfort and friendship when she sees he needs it. she impresses him because he finds himself wanting to indulge in her closeness. he finds a connection to someone he never expected to and it makes him rethink everything about the broken state he put the world in.

it’s worth noting that lavellan is always making the first move. she kisses him first, she pursues him. he tries to brush off the kiss as a spontaneous lapse in judgement and she doesn't let him. he only ever gives in to her advances, he doesn't make them himself. he calls their relationship "selfish" on his end. he knows he shouldn't be encouraging her but he can't help but long for her companionship. that being said though if lavellan shuts it down he respects it. he probably feels a little relief because the temptation is now out of his hands lol.

i feel like there’s also this perception that he’s constantly shitting on the dalish while lavellan just has to put up with it and that alone is reason enough to find the relationship demeaning. he mentions the dalish in one optional conversation chain where you ask him for his opinion on the state of the elves and then in the balcony scene where he realizes he’s misjudged the inquisitor after his personal quest. in both instances, lavellan can stick up for the dalish. in the optional conversation, lavellan can say that if solas had a bad experience with a clan once (which we know from dav is exactly what happened lol), that she’d like to correct that misunderstanding about her people.

it's worth noting as well that lavellan doesn't know solas is the dread wolf when he's criticizing the dalish. from her perspective, he's essentially a city-born elf who had some dalish look down their nose at him for not being a "true elf" like they are, something that not only happens in canon throughout the games and lavellan would be aware of, but literally happens to solas specifically, right in front of you. he doesn't say a single word to mihris and she doesn't know a thing about him other than his face is bare and thus feels comfortable referring to him with what is essentially a slur. but rather than confront her directly about it he just passive aggressively speaks to her in elven almost exclusively for the rest of the quest lol.

far from the dynamic being that lavellan is just putting up with someone talking down to her about her culture, i think it's reasonable to see her view is more that they're both members of the same marginalized group, but from different cultures. his position in criticizing the dalish is not punching down it's lateral. she loves her culture, but is able to recognize it has flaws and not every member in it treats other cultures well, particularly even when they're from the same marginalized group. (and it's also just really meaningful that the first "flirt" option you get in the solas romance is lavellan recognizing that solas has put himself in a very vulnerable position as an elven apostate joining the chantry-led inquisition and with whatever power she has she will make sure that it's not held against him.)

i do think the writing conveys that he does have his mind changed about the dalish at least a little bit, but one of his pet peeves is when people are ignorant and refuse any information that challenges their worldview. as a manifested wisdom spirit, it is a particular sticking point to him to not be listened to when he is providing knowledge. i think criticism of how he is towards the dalish is lacking without taking into account his nature as a spirit. obvs we didn’t know that in dai but we do now. when wisdom isn't listened to it turns to pride. "i told you so," "i'll prove i'm right," "you should have listened to me," etc. etc. he got his feelings hurt when the dalish didn't believe him (and according to dav, literally tried to kill him) and his ego's held a grudge ever since.

when it comes to the vallaslin, to me it’s less about solas wanting to dismantle part of dalish culture (he offers no actual opinion on the dalish during that scene) and more that it clearly bothers him a lot that he fought so hard to free the elves from slavery and the one community of elves that’s closest to the descendants of the people he wanted to free still wears tattoos honoring the very tyrants he wanted to free them from. if lavellan says she wants to keep them and that the dalish reclaimed them and they mean something else to her, he doesn’t argue. i actually don’t like that solas’s post breakup banter with cole implies that lavellan thinks he might have broken up with her over the vallaslin. it’s putting thoughts in the head of my character that i personally don’t see her having. the way the breakup plays out, there’s not a single indication that it has anything to do with the vallaslin. i like to pick the “i believe in us” option because it shows lavellan having some idea that there’s something solas isn’t telling her and that’s the main reason he’s walking away. and the irony of course is that we learn in dav that that was the moment he came the closest to just giving up everything to just be with her.

so when i played through dav with my solasmance lavellan and she talks about what drew her to him it all just felt so right. he was kind and wise and sad but he made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered to him. (and that was very almost true!) there was a passion and intensity to their relationship that made her think he was the person she wanted to be with forever. when she says "i thought i would have followed anywhere he asked me to" you could read it as her saying she would have joined him in tearing down the veil if he asked and depending on your lavellan that might be true (though in the next bit she talks about how she would have been trying to change his mind anyways). but you could also read it as what her mindset was while she was with him during dai. before joining the inquisition, she knew him to be someone that traveled the world looking for lost secrets and history. why would she not have wanted to join him in that? is that not something you do when you're in love with someone?

something else that i find really compelling about solavellan is how solas relates to the inquisitor (not just lavellan) as a figurehead stripped of their personal identity. he knows from personal experience exactly what that's like. in the romances (not just solas's), the inquisitor is able to find someone that knows and cares for them for who they are, not what they represent. this aspect of the inquisitor's arc is honestly why i like keeping the vallaslin. my lavellan wants people to be able to look at her as the inquisitor and see a dalish elf. it's one small act of defiance and in reclaiming her own narrative. so thinking about what she might want to do after her responsibilities to the inquisition are over, it's reasonable to think she might want to just go wherever solas goes? because she loves him and feels like herself around him. even her asking him to let her come with him in trespasser feels more motivated by the fact that lavellan sees solas isolating himself and closing himself off and she's sad about it because she cares about him. that was why she wanted to grow close to him in the first place.

and i genuinely don't think it's all that wild that lavellan still holds a torch for solas 10 years later. i personally was friends with this guy in high school i always had a crush on, and towards the end of senior year it looked like it could actually end up turning into something. but then he immediately left for a summer abroad after graduation and eventually moved out of the country full time for school. we kept in touch off and on and caught up when he was in town, but nothing romantic ever happened. for years after i would catch myself thinking every so often what could have been and what he was up to. for solavellan, they were actually together. they had mutually expressed feelings and though their time together was maybe a few months at most, it was intense and passionate. they split up not because anyone's feelings changed, but because of solas's baggage. it's really not unrealistic for lavellan to continue wondering to herself what would have happened if he had been honest with her sooner. if she could have convinced him to change course. and it's not like she has the luxury of retiring and just not thinking about him anymore. that's not a conscious manipulation on solas's part to string her along, that's just the reality of their situation.

and even with all that in mind, in dav lavellan is still able to have the self-awareness to understand that the good in him that she believes exists and all that they had together and what she meant to him could all just be wishful thinking on her part. that she's giving him the benefit of the doubt "imagining his broken heart" when he doesn't deserve it because it makes her feel less foolish. she's not blindly faithful to him. i just loved everything about that scene and every word out of my lavellan's mouth felt spot on and perfect for how i saw their relationship. i could not have been more relieved lol.

as for the ending, i really really dislike the bad faith read that the only thing that matters is mythal and that he somehow loves mythal more and if that weren't true then lavellan alone would be able to convince him to stop. varric says about solas that he wants to be a hero, but it's easier for him to play the villain because it means he didn't fail, everything bad he's done is a choice. once you've done one bad thing, betrayed one friend, manipulated and sacrificed some pawns, committed one lil genocide, etc. lmao, it becomes easier to do it again. you've already crossed your moral event horizon and now you just have to find an end that justifies the means of all your misdeeds. what i've said about solas before is that what's frustrating is that he does genuinely feel remorse about the shit he does, but he needs to believe it's necessary and he will keep doing it. he needs to believe it will all be worth it in the end. it's not that he thinks feeling sorry makes up for it necessarily, but that he had to do it. he had to be the one taking on all of the bad things to hopefully one day do a good thing and it will all work out.

(as a side note when solas says "i would not have you see what i become" in trespasser i always thought that meant he was going to resort to some awful corruptive magic or something but it turns out what he actually meant was "i'm about to be a real asshole and do some incredibly awful things and i don't want you to see that side of me" which is much sadder.)

so when rook says "you don't have to do this" solas counters with "i've betrayed and fucked over and killed so many people who trusted me and if i stop i will have done that for nothing." so then the inquisitor jumps in with "as one of those people, i'm telling you that you can stop." but then we get to the heart of it. he thinks he failed mythal when she died the first time and was unwilling to listen to her as flemeth. he needs to make that mean something. he needs to justify to himself what mythal made him into. so he needs to hear from his mythal, not morrigan's mythal who has the benefit of the wisdom and hindsight centuries of living among mortals gave her, but his mythal, the one closest to who she was when she died that what he is is broken. that she's the one that broke him and he alone doesn't have to bear the weight of everything he did because of her. it's not about loving her, it's about the specific relationship he had with her. with that baggage unpacked, he's not only able to let go of his prideful need to prove himself right by tearing down the veil, he's also free to choose what he always really wanted: lavellan.

and still! yet again! he does not ask or assume anything on her part. she offers! of her own free will. something that really rustles my jimmies about a lot of solavellan criticism is that people act like lavellan has no agency. that she couldn't possibly make the choices she does of her own accord and it has to be solas manipulating her. that has never rang true to me at all. she always made the first move. i think this more uncharitable read might unfortunately be encouraged by how many actual solavellan shippers play into the wolf/halla thing but i personally don't think that's the dynamic that weekes actually wrote. it is lavellan that pursues solas, not the other way around. and weekes was honestly so careful in how they wrote the romance so that when solas's identity and plans are revealed, it doesn't feel like he intentionally tricked you or took advantage. i actually really like the ambiguity of whether or not they slept together because to me it does feel like that's a line solas wouldn't cross, but i get why that doesn't matter as much to other solasmancers.

i also think there's this perception that solavellan is a ship with an unhealthy power dynamic that needs to be "fixed" in some way or at the very least apologized for before you're allowed to like it. for me it's honestly kind of the appeal? not that there's some goofy dom/sub thing going on lol but that in spite of how "superior" solas may or may not feel to lavellan and the modern elves, he still falls hook line and fucking sinker for her. lavellan has so much more power in the relationship than she realizes. she changes his entire perspective on modern elves and his ultimate goals so bad he had a complete crisis of faith and had to run as far away from her as he could. how could he have broken the world so badly he needs to catastrophically break it again to fix it if it could create someone like her? someone he wants and cares for so desperately? it's the push and pull of him trying to stay away but selfishly indulging as long as he can that's so juicy to me! it's so good and i just wish other people could see that, even if they don't care for the character.

anyways. i don't have a conclusion. i don't want anyone to think i'm vaguing about them. this is honestly the result of some thoughts that have been brewing for a while and a lot of common criticisms i've seen over the years. i didn't want to respond directly to anyone in particular bc i learned my lesson about not doing that waaay back in the shenko fandom iykyk lol. i just really like the ship! i think it's tragic and romantic and lovely and poetic and mythological and all that good stuff. it humanizes solas as a character and makes me think about empathy and compassion and how much faith you can have in someone if you love them. or how it might feel to sacrifice love for something you think you need to do, only to ultimately realize you never did and find that love patiently waiting for you to get your shit together. or to love someone and know they love you back and that they love you so much they had to leave or they would have given up everything they thought they needed for you and then to be able to actually get through to them and get them back. "she could save him if he'd only just let her"! it's a very niche wish fulfillment fantasy and it's me! i'm the fan being serviced!

[chiiroptereh]

[Please zoom in, there's a lot of detail! And a massive file size...ouch]

Hi guys, long time no post! Been working on Art Fight and life stuff, but I've got something kinda fun for you.

This is a compilation exploring how a mortal Bill may interact with our world if there were still some kinda Euclidean instincts buried in there. Y'know, before the Book of Bill ruins all my headcanons >:P (EDIT: IT HAS BEEN READ. YAHOOOOOO)

Also quite an experimental piece as you can probably tell. Lots of details on both said headcanons and the art stuff under the cut, but I invite you to study the colorful texture yourself beforehand and think about what it might be representative of, just for fun because I got some really cool answers from my friends when asked :]c

TL;DR: the headcanon is that Euclideans have exceptional eyes for geometry. They find things like symmetry, tessellating patterns, graphs and fractals very aesthetically pleasing. If pushed into our 3D world, they feel comforted by the familiarity flat objects/spaces bring, as well as high-contrast patterns. Shadows especially are a familiar dimensional reduction that may bring them much comfort.

Bill would surely not be happy about these inclinations, constant reminders of a past long gone, but I'm not sure he's even aware of them here :P I think his ego gets in the way to the point where he just views these interests as common sense, which, of course, us lame humans just don't understand because we aren't nearly as cool as him. Of course he likes perfectly symmetrical leaves and staring at the kitchen floor, it's called taste, look it up!

And yet, he can't seem to shake the strange sense of melancholy he gets from viewing his own shadow.

~ End of TL;DR, long version below! ~

🔺 Headcanon Development

So, the catalyst of this idea was in relation to my friend and I's AU ( @love-triangles-au ). TL;DR, Bill's brought back mortal, meets another triangle named Y.V. (it's his hand holding the paper in the piece, actually), at some point they fall in yaois together, you know how it is. And, in writing a pair of triangles (or, more broadly, writing from the perspective of a different species), something I've had to consider was that you really can't get much further removed from a human being than sentient geometry.

The anatomical aspect was mostly figured out (see my piece on Bill's eye-mouth), but I wanted to consider what psychological differences might be at play. I wanted them to be weirder, more alien, double-so for Bill. At first I explored these possibilities through the lens of Bill and Y.V.'s relationship, specifically the question "what might a triangle find appealing about another triangle?"

Well, really the only things that came to mind were straight lines and symmetry, anything related to the geometric form of such a creature. That's more-or-less where that ended until the thought struck me that there's no reason this aesthetic appreciation couldn't extend to the rest of the environment, and then further when I realized, "wait, this is a species that is designed to live in a 2D environment. Like, they should seriously be really weird. I need to push this like 200% more."

So...yeah! I did some thinking and brainstorming with others and came up with a pretty long list of things a Euclidean in our world may be inclined to enjoy or find some level of comfort in. It's worth noting again that in this piece specifically this is a mortal/powerless Bill, so he can't really escape this Earthly environment. IF he's aware of these instincts at all (and that's a big "if"; when have you last been cognizant of your own instincts let alone known where they were stemming from?) I think he'd have snuffed them out in immortality and/or purposefully gone against them; he doesn't take kindly to being told what to do.

In order from left-to-right, top-to-bottom, here's an explanation for each!:

Flat objects such as paper are something he may find particularly engaging. It's basically 2D!

Tessellations are especially fascinating, and our world has them everywhere in the form of tile floors. Symmetry and such a predictable pattern...as the infinity of the starry sky might for us, the infinite potential of tessellations might invoke a similar sense of awe in him. Add on the maximum contrast of black on white kitchen tiles and the forms are only even better defined! A sensitivity to contrast would be very helpful for a 2D being navigating their environment.

Fields are flat and open, much like Euclydia itself. Laying flat may make him feel a little more at home.

More tessellation in the honeycomb of hymenopterans (bees, wasps and friends)! It helps that pain is hilarious.

The city is an absolute treasure trove. Rectangular buildings, precise architecture, square sidewalks and straight lines abound...he may as well be looking at a rainbow or an art gallery! I think a Euclidean's brain is very fine-tuned to mathematics, especially in regards to trigonometry. What may appear to be a straight painting might appear obnoxiously crooked to him.

Zebras are high-contrast :]

Another flat surface, another relaxing space <3

I think graphs are about as high as high art gets to most Euclideans.

I've touched on shadows before, and for good reason; truly they must be something borderline magical to the Euclidean and perhaps bitterly nostalgic.

This one kinda speaks for itself. Dweeb.

🎨 The Artsy Stuff

Lately I've been trying to find ways to fit more color into my work, as color is perhaps one of my favorite things in the world. My wardrobe is rather garish; my dad jokes that you could see me from space. My fursona is obnoxiously bright for a reason -- I feel my soul is a very colorful one!

I also realized recently that I don't actually know the exact style that speaks to me. I could talk about the phenomenon of the "style crisis" that many artists have all day, but in my mind the best cure for this feeling is to go against it entirely and begin stealing as much as possible.

So, I've tried to keep an eye out for more sources of inspiration everywhere I go, physical and digital. I've tried to train my mind into making a habit of considering, "can I do anything with this?" everywhere I go, and it recently paid off!

The glittery rainbowy texture you see plastered all over Billiam is this one, a photo-manipulated set of fruit stickers. I must confess I've been obsessed with this image for the past 72 hours, and this seemed like a good excuse to try it out!

I worried throughout the process if it might be so abstract that it loops back around to being horribly deliberate, if that makes sense -- like each sparkle was not a piece of a whole but rather an object in itself -- but it seems like that hasn't been a problem, so I'm grateful for that :Dc

I hope it can dazzle and delight you as it does me, but as long as you find it fascinating at the very least then I consider it a success! I really enjoyed hearing my friends' interpretations while workshopping it, and got tons of amazing answers from opal to kaleidoscope to fossilized bone marrow! I truly believe that the best art has some room for interpretation and it really excites me to be surrounded by that kind of creative energy that follows said pieces. That definitely adds to my pride in this work. It's weird, it's colorful, it's detailed and yet ambiguous. I'm feeling pretty autistic about it

Alright, I think that's about it. Thanks for listening!

[analysisiinternet]

Yandere Headcanons for Thaddeus from “Killer Peter”

(note: why do they always make the villain hot i saw no headcanons or fanfics of him or "x reader" so I decided to do a headcanons yes red is my favorite color)

1. Obsessive Affection With his complex personality, Thaddeus exhibits an intense and obsessive form of affection towards those he cares about. His love is not a gentle fondness; it borders on an all-consuming passion that can quickly spiral into possessiveness. He meticulously keeps track of every detail about the object of his affection, whether it’s their daily routines, favorite foods, or even their friends and acquaintances. This obsession drives him to protect them at all costs, leading to a darker side where he might resort to extreme measures if he feels threatened by anyone who comes too close.

2. Jealousy and Paranoia Thaddeus’s yandere nature manifests prominently through his jealousy. He cannot stand the thought of anyone else getting too close to you the one he loves. This jealousy often leads him down a path of paranoia, where he imagines scenarios in which his beloved(you) is unfaithful or is in danger due to others’ intentions. He may confront perceived rivals with a chilling calmness that belies the storm brewing within him. His jealousy can escalate quickly, transforming him from a caring partner into someone who will go to great lengths—potentially violent—to eliminate any threats.

3. Duality of Personality One of the most intriguing aspects of Thaddeus’s character is his duality. On one hand, he can be charming and charismatic, drawing people in with his wit and intelligence. On the other hand, there lies a darker side that emerges when he feels betrayed or threatened. This duality makes him unpredictable; readers are left guessing whether they will encounter the sweet Thaddeus or the cold-hearted protector at any given moment. This unpredictability adds layers to his character and keeps readers engaged as they explore how far he might go for love.

4. Manipulative Tendencies Thaddeus possesses a keen intellect that allows him to manipulate situations to his advantage seamlessly. He knows how to play mind games with both friends and foes alike, often using charm and persuasion to bend others to his will without them realizing it until it’s too late. His manipulative nature extends even to his beloved(you) he may create scenarios that make you dependent on him or isolate them from their support systems under the guise of protection.

5. Dark Romantic Gestures In true Yandere fashion, Thaddeus expresses his love through darkly romantic gestures that may seem sweet on the surface but carry sinister undertones upon closer inspection. For instance, he might surprise his beloved with gifts that have unsettling origins—like items taken from those who have wronged them—or orchestrate elaborate dates in secluded locations where they are completely alone and away from prying eyes. These gestures serve as both declarations of love and warnings: no one else can have them.

6. Unwavering Loyalty Despite his darker tendencies, Thaddeus embodies unwavering loyalty once someone has earned his trust and affection. He would go above and beyond for those he loves, often placing their needs above his own desires—even if it means making morally questionable choices along the way. This loyalty can be both comforting and terrifying; while it provides a sense of security for those close to him, it also raises questions about what boundaries he might cross in the name of love.

7. A Tragic Backstory To fully understand Thaddeus’s yandere tendencies, one must consider a potential tragic backstory that shapes who he is today—a past filled with betrayal or loss could explain why he clings so tightly to those he loves now. Perhaps early experiences taught him that love is fleeting or conditional; thus, when he finds someone worth loving again, he becomes desperate to keep them safe and never let them slip away.

 Clingy Yet Charismatic:

Once Thaddeus develops an attachment to someone, he becomes incredibly clingy. He thrives on their attention and affection, often showering you with compliments and small gifts that seem innocent at first glance—like handmade trinkets or baked goods. However, this clinginess quickly escalates into possessiveness. He believes that anyone who gets too close to his beloved must be eliminated or kept at bay, leading him to orchestrate elaborate schemes to isolate you from potential threats—friends, family members, or even romantic interests He will go out of his way to be near you often inserting himself into your daily routines under the guise of wanting to help or spend time together. 

warning: a lil NSFW(if your comfortable with NSFW you may read if not don't read this)

how would he be in bed-

he would definitely be dom or switch he would do it rough such as if you told him to go slow he would go faster thrusting inside you I don't even know why yall create a safeword he would be the type to call you "good girl your taking me so well~ "while he is fucking you from behind and whispers in your ear "your fucking mine" I feel like he would make jokes while yall are doing it (it is a canon at this point) he would purposely gag you on his dick while your giving a blowjob and laugh about it, I just know if he is good at martial figthtin he is good with fingers

Aftercare-

he would be the big spoon putting you to his chest as she cuddles you and he would act all innocent and shits and he would say how would a good job you did pleasing him as he kisses you smiling at you pullin' closer to him his hand is on your waist, he would make you a bath for him and you can wash off(there might be a round 2) but after all he is clingy don't get me started on him kissing all over your face telling you how much he loves you (he might be a villain but he would hug me if I was sad)

Thaddeus’ hugs become more frequent and enveloping as the relationship develops, offering a sense of security. Kisses exchanged in these early days are tender and sweet, leaving a lingering warmth that hints at deeper feelings. You might notice small tokens of his affection—a favorite snack he brings you or a shared playlist that reflects your growing bond.

His kisses transform into fervent expressions of desire—more passionate and demanding than before. Thaddeus seems insatiable, always wanting more closeness and connection. Love bites become a playful yet possessive mark of his affection, signifying that you belong to him in this chaotic world.

Cuddling Dynamics At home or during quiet moments together, Thaddeus often plays the big spoon role during cuddling sessions. He wraps around you protectively, creating a cocoon where you both can escape from reality for a while. This nurturing side reveals his softer nature beneath the tough exterior he often presents to the world.

(note: comment who yall want me to do headcanons for the next post you can either text me or ask in the box but I would prefer if you text me instead if you read all of this thank you so much and reblogged this)

[help-i-lost-my-sock]

A Penny for Your Thoughts (Ace x Reader)

A/N: While I love cocky, confident Ace, I felt like the softer, more damaged side of him deserved some love too <3

Summary: Ace has been feeling a bit low lately, and has been isolating from Reader, and the crew. Reader goes to talk to him, and a rather emotional interaction ensues. Please see warnings.

Warnings: Ace is having an emotional, and vulnerable moment. Ace struggling with his self-worth. Mentions of alcohol usage.

Writing prompt:

"Did you just kiss me?"

"Was I not supposed to?"

"I don't know... But can you do it again?"

Tags: Ace x Reader, angst & comfort, Ace dealing with self-worth issues

Word count: 2900

Dividers by @cafekitsune

You and Ace had been close friends for quite some time now. Very close, actually. Not quite as close as you’d have liked to be, but that did not matter much, as long as you had his friendship. Yes, if nothing else, his friendship was enough. 

Lately though, your friendship seemed to have been somewhat shaken. For some reason, Ace had been distancing from you, and all others lately. Sure, he’d still act fine when people talked to him. But that was not quite the way it used to be… The Ace you’d known so far was a bit of a chatter box - that is, when he was not fast asleep on the deck, or with his face in a plate of food. He loved to socialise with the crew, and was always offering to help wherever he felt he could be of any use. He’d often be engaged in some conversation or another, swapping tips and tops, cracking jokes, or regaling his men with tales. Now, however, he’d rather lean over the railing, gazing at the sea, lost in thought, or sit alone, isolated, than engage with others. He’d slip out during group conversations, or spend hours shut in the study, haunched over maps, and documents, working his way through endless stacks of paperwork - a task he’d always dreaded more than any other. It was not quite the same, no. 

It would be a lie to say it did not worry you. Ace was your best friend, and, if you were being honest with yourself, he was a bit more than that. It was only natural for you to notice, to miss him, and to worry. You couldn’t bring this up around others - it was clear it was not something he’d want broadcast in front of a crowd. So, you decided to speak to him as soon as you’d catch him alone. It shouldn’t be too hard. Afterall, he tended to seclude himself every chance he got those days. So, you waited. Ace had spent most of the day in the study. At lunch, there was not enough privacy to speak to him, so you let it slide. Afterwards, he disappeared, and you had no idea where. 

Eventually, night had fallen, and the Whitebeards were having a party on the main deck. It seemed like your plan would have to wait another day. The crowd grew and grew, as the music played, and the booze flowed. It was not unusual for pirates to party, and the parties on the Moby Dick never disappointed. Or at least, they never had, until this point. For, as expected, you could not find Ace anywhere in the crowd, and a party without him simply felt incomplete. 

You spent some of the night gliding through the crowds, slipping from clique to clique, from conversation to conversation, eventually setting camp up by yourself by the refreshments table. You sighed as you scanned the swaying masses, as they sang, and danced, and chatted… as if they hadn’t even noticed. 

“Hey,” came a voice from behind you, as a hand gently grasped your shoulder. You turned around to find Marco, and Thatch. Thatch had a compassionate smile on his face, and, while Marco didn’t show it on his lips, the same compassion, and understanding could be read in his eyes as he looked down at you, secluded as you were, camping alone by the booze. 

“We know,” Marco says softly. You tilt your head sideways, questioning him with a silent look. 

“You must be thinking we hadn’t noticed how Ace has been drawing himself back lately,” he starts, as he takes his hand off your shoulder, and turns to look at the merry-makers. “How can the crew party as if they don’t even notice? But we do notice. We all do.�� Now that he mentioned it, it dawned on you that Ace’s presence was not the only absence here tonight - a certain carefreeness seemed to escape many that night, and certainly those close to Ace - you, the commanders, Pops, and the men of his division. Now that you were aware of it, you saw it nearly everywhere - in their eyes, as they, too, scanned the crowd; on their lips, curled in half-smiles; on the very countenance of their bodies. They could all tell something - or rather, someone - was missing that night. 

“We were hoping a party might draw him out,” joined Thatch. “The plan was to get some booze in him, and hope it’ll loosen him up enough to tell us what’s wrong - how we can help. But, as you can see…” 

“He didn’t show,” finished Marco. 

“He never showed up,” you said simultaneously. 

“Yup…But!” he added with excitement, and you saw a smile creep on Marco’s face as he turned to look at you once more. 

“We got one more thing we’d like to try.” 

“Ah, and that is where I come in, I presume?” You turned to look at them, swirling your drink, as you waited for them to continue. 

“Yep,” they confirmed in unison, before Marco proceeded to explain. “See, we found him sulking alone on the quarterdeck. Seems he came out for the booze, but didn’t stick around for the company.” 

“Ouch! Well, that’s flattering,” you remarked jokingly, knowing full well it was nothing personal. 

“Yeah, well, he won’t talk to us,” explained Thatch. 

“Yep, we’re clearly part of the ‘company’ he seems to be avoiding… Which brings us to your part.” 

“Ah, I get it. You want me to go up there, and see if I fare any better than you two.” 

Thatch was smiling, while Marco chuckled at your deduction, giving you a small smirk. 

“No,” he answered, “we know you’ll fare better than us.” The small, lopsided grin on Marco’s face made you cock an eyebrow for an instant, but you quickly brushed it off, as Thatch joined in once more.

“Yeah, we know you two are close. Hell, no one’s closer to him than you, except maybe his brothers,” added Thatch, matter-of-factly. 

“So, what we want from you is to go up there and bring him back to Earth.” 

You looked at them - they clearly cared about him, and were now resting their hopes on you, giving you a chance to help. They were giving you a chance to speak to him alone about whatever it is that’s been bothering him, just the way you’d told yourself you’d do. You glanced at your drink, swirling it around some more. Thatch’s words about how close you and Ace were made you feel warm inside. Maybe there was hope for you yet… But now was not the time for that. Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked up at your fellow conspirators. 

“Leave it to me!” you declared, shooting them a grin. 

“I knew we could count on you,” cheered Thatch, with a big smile, while Marco kept on his usual lazy smirk, giving you a small nod. They refilled your drink, and shoved a beer for Ace in your hands, before ushering you to the quarterdeck. 

You took a deep breath trying to calm your nerves, before you strutted off, shouting over your shoulder “Wish me luck!” 

“Good luck!” the guys responded, as you disappeared behind a corner. 

It was a warm night, and the skies were clear, revealing a veritable sea of stars above your head, complete with a bright full moon, and with nary a  cloud in sight. The music from the party was fading as you walked further and further away, towards the quarterdeck; its spritely rhythms now barely enough to muffle the clicking sound of your footsteps on the wooden planks. 

Indeed, way in the back, hidden out of sight, was Ace. Slumped on the deck, with his back resting against a wall, a couple of empty beers around him, and one bottle hanging by the neck in his hand. His head tilted upwards, his eyes fixed on the stars above him. He seemed so calm, so quiet, and yet, not serene in the slightest. It was as if the silent sorrow in his soul crept its way towards you, and took you by the hand, when his eyes suddenly turned to you. A smile made its way onto his lips, but failed to reach his tired eyes. ‘Had he been crying?’ 

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here?” Ace tried to act cheerful, and play pretend; he tried to hide his expression by finishing his drink, but you knew him far too well for that, and saw right through his act. 

“I heard you were out here,” you confessed as you went to sit down by his side, handing him the beer. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” you continued, as Ace took the bottle from your hand, “and I missed you. We’ve all been missing you.” You spoke softly, your voice barely above the sounds surrounding you - the music, the clamour from the main deck, with the clanging of beer-filled mugs, and the familiar sounds of waves splashing rhythmically against the sides of the ship. Ace averted his gaze from you, lest you saw the truth in his eyes. But you already knew. You’ve seen it the moment he looked your way. 

Shuffling around a bit, you shifted position, and made yourself more comfortable against the wall, by his side. You allowed a moment to pass in silence, not intending to come off too forcefully, as you both watched the stars twinkling above your heads. You took a sip of your drink. The sloshing of liquid punctuated the silence before you spoke. 

“Care you tell me what’s got you so down? Hm?” you questioned, as gently as you could. Slowly, you turned your head towards him, giving him a side-look, and a soft, half-hearted smile as you waited for his response. 

Ace pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them; the bottle you’d given him still hanging in his hand. He thought he hid it better than that, even from you. But he should have known you’d see right through, and if he were being honest with himself, deep down, he was glad you did. He needed you to pull him out of the spiralling nightmares that had become his thoughts. But that didn’t make it any easier to get the words out. 

Ace rested his chin on his arms, staring straight ahead, at nothing in particular, as his mind scampered to string words together. Though his mouth was hidden behind one of his arms, you could see he was working on an answer by the frown that weighed on his brow. A few moments passed in silence before you placed your hand on his shoulder blade, gently rubbing his back. His eyes darted up to yours, his mouth hanging ever so slightly open, before closing it again, and averting his gaze once more. The warmth of your hand on his skin was comforting, safe, inviting; inviting him to tell you of his woes. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, barely audible over the commotion of the party on the main deck. 

“What for?” 

“For making you worry… You, and Marco, and Thatch, and Izou, and Pops, and all the others…I’m sorry for shutting you all out these past few days… weeks. I’m just…” Ace paused for a moment, as he turned his head away from you again, and fixed his eyes on the swaying waves before him. “I… haven’t been myself lately, is all.” 

“Ace, it’s alright. We’ve all got our darker days. It’s - “ 

Ace draws a shaky breath, before cutting you off. “I know it’s not fit for a commander - t’ give in like that, and shut you all out. I should have done better… You all deserve better…” 

The hand that was rubbing his back froze in place, as you stared at him in shock - eyes wide, and slack jawed - struggling to believe the words you were hearing. Seeing Ace crumbling down like this certainly struck a chord. You and Ace were close, but this was a side of him you’d never seen before. Was this the same daredevil you’d grown so used to over time? Sure, you were aware that he wasn’t always that same cocky bastard. You knew he had a softer side too, and you knew he was damaged too. You knew that he struggled with his past - his ancestry, especially - wondering if he really deserved to be where he was, and be loved as he was. Sometimes he’d wondered if maybe he could have done more for Luffy - if he was a good older brother. Other times he wondered if he was doing right by Pops, and the other Whitebeards. You knew all of this, and then some. But you’d never seen him so broken before. How long had he been carrying this stone around his neck? At a loss of words, all you could do was stare at him - lips trembling as you tried to form words; throat tightening, as you tried to hold back tears. 

“I’m sorry you’re missing out on the party to sit here with me,” he continued, “but I also wanna say thank you. Thank you for your time, and thank you for your company.” He adjusted his sitting position, stretching out the leg nearest to you and allowing it to bend to the side, as his arm hung over his bent knee. “I hope you know how much I value your friendship… despite the past couple of weeks… And thanks for the drink too,” he chuckles, a bittersweet smile on his face as he takes a swig, before quickly resuming his monologue. “And thank Marco and Thatch too for trying to cheer me up. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you guys. Y'all deserve better than someone like me,” he trailed off. His head briefly dipped down against his arm, before he quickly lifted it up, and tilted it back against the wall. It was as if he were afraid that if he allowed his head to hang like that he might break down, and cry. His lips curled, and trembled with a bittersweet smile. You watched as his brows furrowed, and the corners of his mouth twitched, before he covered his eyes with his hand. From his shaking lips came a sound hard to pinpoint. Was it a sob? A scoff? A chortle? Whatever it was, it clearly captured his inner turmoil. 

Seeing him like this disarmed you completely. You gawked at him for a moment longer, unaware that large, warm tears had started spilling from your eyes, down your cheeks, and down your neck. You watched him shake his head, as if in disbelief of the situation too - in disbelief of the things he’s said, in disbelief of having allowed someone to see him like that. 

The shock still prevented you from forming proper sentences, but you could no longer sit by silently. “Ace…” 

Hearing his name carried on a breathy whisper snaps him out of his spiral, and pulls his attention towards you. Ace hardly had time to register the pained look on your tear-stained face, before you cupped his cheeks in your hands, and pressed your lips against him. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out the tears past your lashes. The kiss felt hot, with a thick blend of love, and pain; with all the laden words that have spilt, and all those that would not come; with all emotions that you both had been trying to hide. It wasn’t long before you slowly pulled away from him, keeping his face between your palms. The kiss may not have lasted long, but it was enough to get him to shut up, and cease his self-deprecatory verbiage, if only for a moment. You took a moment to scan the shocked, flustered expression on his freckled face before speaking. 

“I’ll decide what I deserve,” you stated, finally letting go of his face. 

You watched as Ace, who seemed perfectly stupefied by your little stunt, attempted - and failed - to pull his wits about him. 

“Did… Did you just kiss me?” He looked cute as a button as he pointed at himself, confused, as if trying to comprehend his own question. You chuckled at his reaction. 

“Was I not supposed to?” You may have chuckled at his reaction, but the truth is that you did it on an impulse, and now the reality of it all was setting in for you too. You’d had a crush on him for ages now, and never in a million years would you have imagined things going this way. But what’s done is done, and this was the moment of truth. Every moment it took for him to answer felt like an eternity, as you kept wondering - What was he going to do? What was he going to say? You couldn’t help but avert your eyes from his, as you felt a blush creep onto your face. You cursed the full moon for its glow so bright, for you were nearly sure Ace could see the deep pink darkening your cheeks. 

“I don’t know, but… Can you do it again?” 

Looking up, you found Ace watching you, expectantly, with a soft, albeit nervous, smile, and a blush to rival your own.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’d say you deserve some more.”

[blissfullybubblez]

🌸💖 Nurturing the Littlest Part of Us: Self-Care for Age Regression 💖🌸

🍼💫 Dear age regression community, remember to prioritize self-care as we embark on our whimsical journeys. Let's nourish our inner child with love, kindness, and gentle self-care practices. 💫🍼

🌈💕 Take a moment to pause and breathe. Embrace the serenity of a quiet moment, allowing your little self to recharge and find solace in the present. Self-care starts with honoring your own needs. 💕🌈

🌸🌼 Embrace the comfort of a cozy space that nurtures your little side. Surround yourself with soft blankets, favorite plushies, and soothing scents that envelop you in a cocoon of tranquility. 🌼🌸

🍃🌺 Engage in activities that bring you joy and ignite your imagination. Whether it's coloring, crafting, or exploring nature, let your little heart guide you to moments of pure bliss. 🌺🍃

💫🌸 Practice self-compassion and self-love. Remind yourself that you are deserving of care, understanding, and forgiveness. Embrace the journey of growth and celebrate your unique inner magic. 🌸💫

🌈💕 Engage in positive affirmations and self-talk that uplifts your spirits. Speak kindly to your inner child, offering words of encouragement and reminding them of their inherent worth and beauty. 💕🌈

🌼✨ Find solace in connecting with your fellow age regressors. Seek support and engage in nurturing conversations that remind you that you are not alone on this beautiful regression journey. ✨🌼

🌟💤 Prioritize restful sleep, allowing your little self to recharge and dream sweet dreams. Create a bedtime routine that soothes your senses and prepares you for a night of peaceful slumber. 💤🌟

🌸💖 Remember, self-care is a continuous journey of self-discovery and self-love. Embrace the process, be patient with yourself, and celebrate the small moments of care that bring you comfort. 💖🌸

🌈✨ So, dear age regression community, take a moment today to indulge in the magic of self-care. You deserve every ounce of love and care that you give to yourself. Embrace the beauty of nurturing your littlest part. ✨

💗 please don't remove my tags 💗

[sordidmusings]

The Wrong Rest

Art by attyrocious

Summary: Everything exhausts you and you see no end and no way to fix it. Too scared to go alone, you find comfort next to the one you love: Trafalgar Law.

A/N: Very indulgent for Specific Angsts lol it’s a repost - had it up for a vERY short while but deleted it in shame LOL here goes take two 🙏🏻 this has an ambiguous ending and in my WIPs I have a good and bad ending I’ve been toying with. There’s a quick message on the dark topic of this fic at the bottom of the post. Please heed warnings if they pertain to you

Word Count: ~1.5 k

Warnings: gn reader, suicide attempt, abuse of pills, portrayal of it as Bad but it is sympathetic to the attempt, do N O T take this as promotion of the idea, been on both sides and it’s a Bad Time no matter what our brains tell us lmaooooo, but sometimes it’s nice to engage with the topic in fantasy to scratch the itch of someone specific caring the way you think would fix it and that’s what this is from, both endings will more thoroughly cover Consequences and why it’s Bad

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Law had noticed something jittery about you when you slid into bed that night. It was a change from the distance you’d both been hosting, but he wasn’t sure if it was a welcome one yet. He eyed you with suspicion that he thought was masked, but you knew him much too well. You knew all his tells, all his hurts, all his habits. You cherished each one and always wondered why you got to be there for them.

The distance you’d felt from him made you consider it over and over and over again. You weren’t able to love him enough. You felt you’ve tried everything you were capable of to offer him peace and safety and relief and joy but it wasn’t enough. It was an easy cycle of thought to fall into - your brain had long learned to fault you for things both within and without your control. You were certain they were faults born of inadequacy, inaction, and an inherent lack of value in the core of your being. Another day, another verse in the song you’d been singing since you could form words.

Law used to help you fight that. You had barely let him know the extent of it, but building a relationship with him had been your life’s most beautiful blessing and distraction. Him being a part of your life - him actually wanting you to be a part of his - had given you enough ammunition to properly engage and push back your warring thoughts. Unfortunately, they were patient and steady and gaining ground inch by inch with each falter of your strength to take care of your own mind.

You would have never guessed at the hours worth of unspoken words and worries that were laying right beside you. Law was so full of them he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. There was a point between their inception and their overwhelm that he had stopped being able to bring them to you. If he spoke them then it made them real, it made his fears real, and he was beyond incapable of handling that. To think that the guesses of where your growing depression was headed could come true choked the air from his lungs and made him desperately run from the thought. Underlying his terror at your disappearing spark were vicious notions that it was his fault. He was meant to care for you and help you and love you, and he felt he had fallen short. He couldn’t face the idea that he had trapped you to him and strangled the life out of you with his inability to support you like you needed.

Your continued jitters were born from guilt but also so much potent excitement and fear. A tiny pit of the most shameful pride you’ve ever mustered kindled in you too. It was all from a plan finally put to action, a certainty that you’d be relieving everyone, especially your dearest love, and the awaiting of the unknown. Sure, there were some things you can expect, but absolutely no one knew where you were headed, including yourself.

Some of the expected pains came to you about an hour after you laid next to Law and began watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. As of late, he had taken to turning away from you, more proof to yourself that you weren’t wanted. It ached to see his back when you knew the love of his embrace. You knew the blissful heat of his tattooed chest taking the place of your pillow, knew the wonder of hearing his heartbeat - of hearing it skip for you. You knew how sweet his hands could be when they trailed over you, roaming and massaging you as if he hoped he could work his immense affection right through your skin so you could understand its depth and breadth and keep it with you forever.

The pains in your chest became worse than the ones you usually felt. Your heart had begun fighting something it’s never known before. The racing and pumping of it left your skin pounding with heat and anxiety that you diligently tried to breathe through. Your eyes misted when it was accompanied by a twisting starting at your stomach and moving down the rest of your guts. Still, you simply breathed. The last thing you wanted was to wake and upset the man next to you. You knew in some piece of you that he’d be upset eventually, that it was cruel to lay this scene out right next to him, but you were too scared to be alone and you selfishly wanted as much of Law as you could have left. And you were certain it would get better with your absence. Over time, he’d see that too.

You felt the pit in your stomach worsen, the pain now pungent and biting. Instead of sharp cramps, it felt like actual hot pokers were playing with your insides and splitting you apart. You knew it would be there and tried to prepare, but your teeth still ground and your eyes still watered and it took everything in you not to let out a whimper. 

You turned your head to the side, slower than you think you’d ever moved before. Even with the writhing agony inside you squirming in a flurry, your body felt like a haphazard pile of sandbags. In a pathetic flop that took way too much energy, you got your hand resting against the skin on Law’s lower back. The small tether to something beloved and alive brought you a tiny comfort but also bitter longing. A sense of mourning began to root through your heart from the finality you felt building between your touching skin. You’d always loved Law’s touch, whether he gave it or you sought it. It always lit your skin up wherever it went, giving you either invigorating tingles or soothing warmth. That mourning grew by the second as your skin numbed over, replacing that vital warmth with boiling pinpricks.

Law fidgeted briefly in his sleep, roused by your hand bumping him. A deep sigh pressed him closer then shrank him further from your touch. Stuck limp and staring at the blurring ceiling, you could only listen as he shuffled and repositioned. At this point you couldn’t tell if he moved away from you or not; your hands had moved past feeling numb to feeling much too ballooned to send any real sense of touch to your brain.

“Mmnnn, go back t’ sleep,” he mumbled, barely coherent. You still enjoyed that deep rasp that you loved so so much. Even if it sounded tired and a twinge annoyed. “I’m tired, ‘s late.”

You responded with silence, tongue much too thick and dry to form words. You weren’t sure if your chest was even moving to breathe at this point, but it must be because you were still stuck in your body, stuck staring at the ceiling, stuck feeling your insides shred themselves apart. Instead of the feeling that you were bothering him, you focused on what was left of the feeling of his skin on yours. Through that ballooning and those pin pricks was the ghost of his body heat. The warmth, familiar even through dying nerves, felt comforting and beautiful, but it only made you cry more. It was probably the strangest cry you’d ever had; it was every emotion at once and yet you felt so hollow. The fact that you could only let your eyes leak and couldn’t even muster a sob didn’t help with it feeling like some farce.

But the warmth next to you was real. The radiant warmth that was seeping from your love into the sheets and your body remained, and if you concentrated enough you thought you could still feel warmth reaching through the hand you’d moved to him. The heaviness settling on your chest was real too. It started to fully halt each inhale with the potency of its weight. You thought it would be terrifying, but instead you were now fuzzy and light. Your head was spinning (probably lack of oxygen, you thought distantly, or maybe I’m high) and your body was sinking and you felt like your bones were already in the dirt.

You weren’t sure when your eyes shut - it was a second ago and a year as well in the murky dark depths of time and sensation. The stabbing pain in your gut felt like someone else's. You knew it was there, but it no longer affected you. It couldn’t through the all encompassing and smothering dark that was pulling you down and out of your body. It was cold, but it was quiet. Something similar to peaceful but not quite. The feeling that was certain was relief. It permeated everything despite the distant shaking of your the body and a hollering voice. The voice was a bit familiar, but you’d never heard such panic distort it before. You couldn’t bring yourself to think on it; everything was so far from you.

You would have smiled if the muscles in your face worked.

How lovely it is…

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

No tags in this one cuz I feel Guilty with the dark topic LOL

Now for a brief psa: I don't want to preach because I know from experience how that doesn't exactly work. Each platitude feels more and more like a lie the longer the feeling persists. What I will say is that it matters. It matters that you're struggling. It matters that you're suffering. It matters that you're trying. It matters that you're hurt. It's not fair to have to deal with it all the time and it's not fair how life simply happens around something so gargantuan taking place inside you, making it seem insignificant and/or made up.

If people act like it's not a big deal, please do not try to use that as proof. That is a dark game on a false premise where no one wins. If they truly mean it, they are an abusive and cruel person and shouldn't be listened to. If they are a normal person, they are likely treating it lightly because they can't conceptualize it happening because of how upsetting the concept is NOT because the concept isn't upsetting.

I'm trying to keep this brief so I will leave it at that. My messages are always open - I have periods where I am inactive so if I don't get to something it's because I haven't seen it not because I don't care.

Here is a link to a post full of prevention hotlines of various kinds and also from many countries and this one that has suicide prevention hotlines for 56 different countries.

Stay safe 🤍🤍🤍

[sewinrat]

If you are/replace Sebastian includes;

*Reader is female mentioned but I could care less, you just have to be human. Have I done something like this before can't remember...

Oh you poor soul. You don't even know how you got in this mess. You were one day suddenly locked up in a plastic cage and this strange man bought you for an even stranger boy. Now you're stuck with them forever.

The closest you act to in terms of 'first meet' is close to Pomni. And yes you have went into the UNKNOWN and Luther had to pull you back but in this case, the unknown is much more dangerous.

And now you're trying your best to hide and run away from all of them in their weird crazy house of nonsense. Unfortunately you can't even hide well because Randal's dolls will always find you. Luther is another thing. You can't act out in front of around him or else you'll be a 'bad pet' and "that's not how girls supposed to act." His words not mine. Even if you've been put in the ridiculous jester outfit. You'd prefer if they put you in those discipline outfit forever if it means to leave you alone. It doesn't matter if you lose your body.

You got a high chance into being part of the family because Luther might want a little sister but let's not go there. This time.

The other two 'people' in the house, Nyen and Nyon, you thought you could trust but apparently not. You try to avoid them both, mostly Nyen because of the times he threatened you. Although Nyon doesn't do much, it's best to not engage in any way. Why am I describing things like this is your diary?

Actually you might have a diary. But hide them well or else everyone and I mean EVERYONE will read it if you misplaced it anywhere. Randal loves to snoop especially around you. Luther says it's to get to know you better but like a parent, he's a liar because if he reads anything he doesn't like, he'll punish you accordingly. Nyen can use it to manipulate you and make fun of you but Nyon reads it... And that's it. He doesn't do much about it but he's bold so he will gave it back to you even if it's open and in the middle of reading it.

After maybe weeks or even months if time manages to slip later because if you cannot make sense of time, how can you even know the time - you're getting use to it. Not comfortable of course but it's to the point where you aren't actively scared to even look behind you.

You know what, you should be just a little bit grateful that you are Randal's 'friend' while also being under him by being a pet because if you remember in Lucid 14, it shows that Randal likes to keep parts of his 'friends' as the bible recruiter dudes were leaving(But it could also imply that it's his first time doing it while alive or smth). So yeah that's one way to lose skin.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);

Randal: "Oh you met my friend?? Did she escaped again if you knew em... Eh impossible but since you know her, I KNOW YOU~!! A friend to my pet is a friend to mee now come here and let's have some funn." How did you get in touch with her- actually doesn't matter to Randal, more friends the merrier.

Luther: "Hm. Troublesome at first but oh well she's just getting use to her new home that's all so I won't blame them for that. Getting docile but still needs precautions." Somehow he treats you more of an experiment than a pet. Maybe you're those last options regularly people would consider to.

Nyen: He exited the interview because a reaction of the 'new' pet of the house from him is a waste of time to him. You're not worth his trouble. But he did said something about how fun watching you struggle when him and or his master catch you escaping.

Nyon: We couldn't find him to get an interview so we came to the conclusion that he has nothing to say about you. Maybe a little pity. That's all.

Bonus? Tsukada Satoru: "Ah she's quite cute but should keep a certain distance away from Randal. Hm? Jealous? In what way or to who exactly? Randal? Oh I could never. Randal is my best friend, I'm just protecting him away from her." Maybe if you play his heart well, he'll take more of a fancy to you.

[drdemonprince]

to the anon who sent me the message that took them 4 hours to draft.

I think your experience both with organizing and disability has probably provoked you to rethink the entire concept of "success" as our culture has defined it, even if you feel yourself still longing for some of the comfort and ease that capitalistic success can seemingly provide (or that we are conditioned to believe it can provide). im not sure what to say that can match the effort your put into your message, in fact i am galled by the fact that i know that i can't match that effort. i don't know how to make sense of the fact that a person who is finding it incredibly difficult to remain connected and engaged during this time, due to disability, has decided that i was worth that level of effort when they don't have the energy to message people they know. i don't think i am worth that effort. but i also respect that mired in all that you're mired in, it's a meaningful gesture toward engagement and connection to even bother writing such a message. i just think in a lot of ways i am a misplaced target for it, because i am a ridiculously privileged and publicly exposed individual who receives dozens of heartfelt messages that he doesnt find the time to respond to every single day. i think if anything that i've written rubs you the wrong way you'd be right to approach it with cynicism. because what the fuck do i know, banging around on my laptop every day and getting paid for it. how dare i lecture anybody about not unlearning capitalism adequately enough. i am one of capitalisms little milking cows. a massive publishing company makes a weekly profit off of me, off the byproduct of the worst years of my life and my worst traumas, as well as the meaning i've made from the scholarship of others.

i'm so enraged for you that you got a debilitating case of COVID (after several other cases) on an encampment, and that now the community you foster at that encampment is not there for you. i am disgusted at how more seasoned activists and organizations have regarded student protestors as disposable this entire year, selling them out to the cops, cutting bad deals with campus administration, and sending them to yellow and red risk level actions without adequate communication and getting them kettled and beat, or else nullifying their efforts with mealy-mouthed talk about keeping things peaceful. i see so many toothless, neoliberal protests happening here, ones that serve only as fundraisers for massive nonprofit orgs, and i also see literal teenagers being dragged right into paddy wagons by the likes of the PSL or the RCP while the Dems deride them and dance to Brat tracks, not even pretending to care the way they unconvincingly did in say 2020.

It's all making me terribly cynical, wondering where we are headed and whether i can or should encourage people who are younger, stronger, more energetic, more pliable, and more vulnerable to me to give up all that they've got for a cause when it's likely gonna be chewed up and spit out and not met in effort by anyone else. i am mournful of the fact that even i can't match that effort. every time i get a message from a friend or acquaintance who is going through some new awful traumatizing event i want to just curl up and disappear, because i can't even keep up with sending compassionate messages to all of them, let alone actually showing the fuck up and doing anything for them. and so sometimes i slip into the disaffected, blunted feeling that once led me as a younger man into libertarianism, thinking that all i can or should do is look after my own wellbeing, and fuck everybody else. and obviously that is a horrible path that is not by any means moral and certainly didn't help me anyway. it felt like we were on the brink of a great paradigm shift of some kind, a collapse of these evil systems, and now it feels like all of that is as far away as it's ever been, and that there aren't enough people with class consciousness and care for one another to make it happen.

i don't know. i think we all have to abandon our dreams of success, of comfort, of saving the world, the fantasies of everything being fine. i think we need to look to our immediate surroundings and our communities. i think we need to ask for help a whole hell of a lot more than any of us are doing, and to recognize that that is a form of helping. i think we need to get small. and remember we are weak animals. and stop thinking there is anything special or chosen about us. and to remember that nature can often be very cruel and that there is nothing we are owed. disabled people already know this of course, we know life isn't fair. we try to do what we can and yet we wake up feeling even less capable the next day, and it knows no logic and the universe remains indifferent to it. but there are people around us who can care, when we ask them to. and ways that we can just be there alongside one another in the muck of it all. not even necessarily making things better. certainly not being a savior and making the pain go away. maybe just sitting in the muck together.

all of which is to say, i am feeling stuck and overwhelmed and useless myself, anon, and i dont have any more answers than you. but thanks for messaging. im sorry people have taking advantage of you. including in my opinion lots of other activists. looking after yourself and not letting people guilt you doesn't mean turning into a conservative. the kind of anarchy that i am embracing right now is one that goes beyond linear change, beyond making meaning, beyond any idealistic visions of the future, beyond even fighting for some kind of symbolic survival. it's just being. none of it has to mean anything, none of it has to be headed anywhere. it just is. there is plenty for you to be bitter about.

[colettebronte]

Presumptuous: Chapter 4

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Bridgerton Masterlist

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: On your first night with Anthony you meet at the resort spa for a very special kind of late night massage

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ with warnings for sensual massage, wax play, vaginal fingering and frottage. Minors DNI. I will put this up on Ao3 so please do not repost my work elsewhere

Author’s Note: Apologies because this is the longest chapter yet, but then it’s a busy night for these two! Once again a HUGE thank you to @fayes-fics for her beta skills

Chapter 4: Night 1: Massage at Midnight

It’s close to midnight as you enter the lobby. Anthony sent instructions for you to collect an envelope from the Front Desk and then meet him at the spa. You approach the desk to see Michaela is there. 

Amused, you ask her, “Do you ever sleep?”

She smiles back, “I manage a solid hour or two a night.” At your shocked look she adds, “I’m joking, mostly. I’m just covering while the night clerk takes their lunch and then I’m off until tomorrow afternoon.”

You nod, relieved she gets some kind of break. “There should be an envelope waiting here for me,” you tell her.

Michaela gives you a knowing look, pulling it out from a drawer beside her. “There is. A handsome man left it for you a little while ago. He also asked me to give you directions to the spa, if you need them.”

You take the envelope, the heavy-weight cream paper the same as the one on the desk in your hotel suite. You run a careful finger over the resort’s logo embossed on the back. “Thank you, but there’s no need. I took a walk earlier to find it. I’m actually surprised the spa is still open at this hour.”

Michaela huffs a laugh. “It’s not. It’s also worth noting that, while there are cameras in the main area of the spa, there are none in any of the private treatment rooms.”

You shake your head, fighting a smile.  “That is very nice to hear. I’m honestly not sure how many more fictional children I can offer you.”

Michaela just laughs and makes a shooing motion with her hands. You need no further encouragement and head to the spa.

**********

Once at the spa entrance you find it mostly dark with just a faint light shining from within the wide, double glass doors, which are locked. There is a keycard reader next to the right door. You open the envelope to find a key card and note that simply reads: Come in and join me.

You hold the card up to the reader and then the light turns green and the doors pop open. Taking a breath, you enter, pulling the doors shut behind you. The lock engages again with a loud click.

The spa is understandably quiet at this late hour. Your eyes gradually adjust to the soft, flickering yellow light and the faint scent of lemongrass grows stronger as you slowly make your way down the hall to an open door, where a rustling sound comes from within.

You call out, “Anthony?”

The sound stops and he pokes his head out. “I’m nearly done setting up. I’ve left towels and a robe for you just there,” he pauses to gesture to a chair beside the door with his chin. “The changing room is beside it. Feel free to leave your clothes and purse in there, we’re totally alone. Once you’ve changed, please avail yourself of the sauna, which is three doors down to the left, I’ll join you shortly.”

A frisson of lust zings to your core. With a nod you take the robe and towels and quickly strip off your sandals, dress and panties, opting to wrap one of the large plush towels around your bare body. He's also left a pair of slippers in the changing room for you. Taking the robe and other towel with you, you make your way down back the hall. 

Placing the robe on a hook, you slide the glass door of the sauna open. Warm, steamy air puffs out before you slide it closed behind you, the aromatic scent of cedarwood filling your senses. You place the other towel down and get comfortable, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths, letting the warm air relax your muscles.

A few minutes later, the door opens and the air momentarily cools as Anthony enters. Your eyes still closed, you hear a tell-tale hiss as he adds water to the stones and a fresh burst of steam fills the room.

You open your eyes to see he’s also clad in just a towel, wrapped tightly around his hips. Even through the steam you can make out the musculature of his upper body as he sits beside you. Surely it’s illegal for a man to have that many abs.

He says nothing as you both lie back and enjoy both the sauna and each other’s company. You marvel at how easy it is to sit beside him and just be. You suppose it’s part of his job, setting people at ease. You give yourself a mental shake, resolving to not think of this experience as transactional as it really is, and to just let go and enjoy.

At Anthony’s insistence you had set up a throwaway email account so you could communicate what your plans for the night would be. He outlined what would happen tonight so that nothing would catch you unaware. You appreciate how thorough he is, double-checking that you were completely comfortable with the events that would unfold as the evening progressed. His attention to detail has you wondering why he is an Escort and not a CEO of a company. You laugh to yourself, supposing in a way he was. 

President and CEO of Anthony, No Last Name LLC.

After a while, the steam dies down and Anthony gently takes your hand, leaning in close. “We’ve nearly hit the limit of how long we should stay here. Are you ready to move to the massage room?”

You open your eyes and he’s right there, mere inches from your face. You can only nod and he gives you a gentle smile, standing. You expect him to offer you a hand up but instead he reaches down and picks you up. You squeal in surprise as he carries you, bridal style to the door. He uses a foot pull to slide open the door, doing the same to shut it behind you. The cool air of the hallway leaves a slight chill on your dewy skin, but Anthony pulls you in tighter, as if shielding you from it.

Entering the room he was preparing earlier, he gently places you down to sit on the massage table. You start to lie down but he stops you.

“Drink some water first, to replenish a bit of what you sweated out in the sauna.”

You notice a small table that holds a large candle, a variety of colored glass jars  and a pair of water bottles. Anthony cracks one open and hands it to you, taking the second for himself. 

After drinking your fill, he takes the water bottle and you lie down on your front, loosening your towel and then pulling it off your body, so it hangs down, draped over your sides, covering your back completely.

While you adjust your head in the face cradle, the lights dim and soft new-age music starts to play. You hear Anthony open the jars and then there’s a hiss sound and the scent of vanilla fills the air as you realize he’s lit the candle. Anthony pulls the towel down gently to expose your back but also keeps your lower half covered. You feel a warm, damp towel wiping over your back as Anthony begins to speak.

“You remember what we talked about in our emails, in regard to colors and consent?”

“Yes,” you say quietly. At his silence, you realize he wants you to affirm your discussion. “We talked about the stop light system and safe words. Green is everything is good, keep going. If either one of us says yellow, we can keep going, but slowly, with caution. If either one of us says ‘red’ or uses our safeword, we stop what we're doing immediately.

Anthony runs the warm towel over your shoulders. “Excellent. My safe word is Pall Mall and yours is . . . .”

You smile through the face cradle, unseen by Anthony. “My safe word is Presumptuous.”

Anthony laughs, dark and rich. “You really are something else.” The towel stops its movement along your back. “Now, are you ready to begin?”

You inhale a deep breath. “Yes. And it’s all green.”

Anthony runs a finger down your spine. “That is good to hear.” There is a quiet clinking sound as he takes something off the table. You try your best to relax, as you know what is about to come.

“Here we go,” Anthony says and it’s the last warning you get before something warm drips down onto your skin, falling in a line across your shoulders.

You hiss at the shock of the sudden warmth, not from pain. Before Anthony can ask, you assure him, “Green. It’s all green, please continue.” And then strong, sure fingers begin to work the vanilla-scented soy candle wax, which doubles as massage oil, into your skin.

His hands are nearly as warm as the wax. He drips another line down your spine and you barely feel the heat of the wax as the combined sensations of scent, sound and touch bring you into a deep state of relaxation.

After a few minutes of working on your back, he carefully drapes the towel over first one of your legs and then the other, using oil from what you assume are the jars as opposed to dripping wax over them. You groan as he presses into the bottom of your feet. You swear, no other masseuse has ever been this thorough. Anthony removes the towel altogether and then he’s dabbing massage oil onto your upper thighs and begins to work on your glutes, firm strokes running up and down the sides of your ass, far more professional than you’d prefer.

You’ve nearly made a deeply relaxed, you-shaped indent in the massage table when Anthony murmurs, “All right, it’s time to turn over now.

“I don’t wanna,” you mumble into the padding of the face cradle.

Anthony laughs. “It’ll be worth it, I promise. Please turn over and move down a bit so your head is fully on the table.”

With a grumble you roll over and scooch your body down a few inches. You open your eyes and as they adjust to the dim light, Anthony returns with another warm towel. You sigh softly as he runs it gently over your body, prepping it for more warm wax.

As your eyes adjust more to the light, you see that at some point, Anthony has taken off his towel and is now clad only in a pair of dark blue briefs, the ass he so proudly talked about the previous night, on display for your viewing pleasure. Of course he notices you staring and gives a little shimmy, which sets you off giggling.

Anthony runs the warm towel down your belly and over your labia and your laugh is replaced with a moan. He deliberately drags it up and down a few times, applying just the right amount of pressure to leave you gasping. He stops without warning, discarding the towel before you can even level a glare at him. He takes the candle off the small table.

Holding it carefully over your body he asks,  “Are you ready for more?”

“Always,” you breathe out, before adding, “Green. Please continue.”

He nods and then he’s dripping a line of wax down your chest, between your breasts, stopping just above your belly button.

You gasp, at the heat, which feels different on your front than it did on your back. It’s not painful, just slightly more concentrated. Anthony looks concerned but you assure him by gently reaching up to catch his wrist and saying, “Green.” Anthony takes your hand with his free one, entwining his fingers with yours, holding onto it as he places the candle down, and then he lets go and both his hands are on you, working the wax into your skin.

His fingers dip into the wax between your breasts and he expertly works the oil into each breast, strokes alternating between firm and light caresses. When he takes one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, rolling it gently between them, you have to grip the sides of the table, trying to stop yourself from thrashing.

He does the same with your other breast and nipple, forcing you to throw your head back against the cushioned table, closing your eyes. His hands move off your chest and massages the line of wax left into the skin of your stomach. 

After a few moments you realize he’s purposely avoiding your sex. Instead he massages first your arms and fingers and then moves around your body to work on your legs, feet and toes.

Eyes still closed, you’re startled when you feel his warm breath against your cheek and his fingers begin to work under your head, into your neck and shoulders. Opening your eyes, you’re in awe at the look of intense concentration on his handsome face, his tongue poking out adorably as he works on a particularly stubborn knot.

“Good God woman, what do you do for a living to carry this much stress in your body,” he huffs out through gritted teeth.

You blow out a measured breath, gritting your own teeth at the pressure of his fingers working out said knot. “It’s been a stressful past few months, what can I say?”

He shakes his head and then he seems to be done, fingers coming away from your body as leans against the table and stares down at you, brown eyes intense. “Are you ready for your Happy Ending?” His voice is quiet, but still brings heat to your belly.

“The darkest shade of green there is,” you whisper back.

In a flash he’s standing and then striding over to the middle of the table, swinging one of his legs over the top and then his body is on top of yours, his face in line with yours. You realize he’s supporting his own weight with his forearms so he won’t crush you. You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment and then he runs two fingers down your cheek, across your lips and down your throat. 

He leans in further still and then his lips crash down upon yours and you’re both fighting for dominance in the kiss, tongues mingling, moving in and out of each other’s mouths. You’re not sure if there’s a clear winner between you, but just his mouth moving against yours feels like victory.

You gasp into his mouth as he shifts and then his fingers move down your chest, squeezing and tugging your breasts and nipples, just the right side of pleasure-pain.

He’s relentless as he at last moves his fingers down to rest against your folds, long, elegant fingers lightly tapping before dipping in. He presses the lower half of his body, still covered by his briefs against your lower half and the combined sensations of his fingers and fabric dragging against your skin has you pressing your head back against the table.

His mouth trails a line of kisses down your throat, stopping at the top of your breasts before moving back up again. You marvel at how he’s able to do all of these things at once so skillfully, with his mouth, fingers and cloth-covered cock all working various parts of your body at the same time.

He adds another two fingers, while still grinding up and down against your clit with his body and then he’s moaning loudly in time with you. Forcing your eyes open, you see his mouth is open, staring at you so you tug him down with both arms against his neck and then you're sharing the same breaths, eyes never leaving each other as his body arcs up and down against yours, your hands now rubbing up and down his back. Somehow through all this, your bodies find a rhythm, moving against each other seamlessly. 

It’s clear he’s deriving as much pleasure from all this as you are as you both begin to quicken your pace. Your body begins to move against his and as your orgasm builds and builds you can feel his cock twitching through his briefs.

At one point you gasp into his neck, “Do you want to take those off? He says nothing, just shaking his head, and drives his body even further against yours and then there’s no more discussion between you.

At some point his fingers go away, there’s no need for them, his cloth-covered erection more than doing the job. His breaths start coming in little gasps against your cheek and you realize, he’s just as close as you are. 

Before you can think too much, you shift and then you grab one of his hips and press into him, pulling him against your body with all your strength, and then you’re tumbling over the edge, throwing your head back against the table as your orgasm washes over you, the one from earlier in the day no match for this one’s intensity. A moment later, Anthony rears his head back and yells, and you can feel him pulsing inside his briefs.

Understandably, it takes you both a while to compose yourselves after that.

**********

The next morning, back in your hotel room  you awaken late, feeling a content kind of warmth all over your body. Still feeling a bit of post-orgasm bliss, you decide that a room service-delivered breakfast sounds like the best way to start your day..

Rolling over, you find a note on the spare pillow on your bed. In a familiar, elegant hand it reads: 

I hope you enjoyed our very thorough spa treatment last night. What say you to some dinner and dancing on the beach tonight? I’ll be in touch later today to work out the details - Anthony

taglist: @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @faye-tale @cosmiclove330 @abridgerton @fiction-is-life @kmc1989 @alexandrainlove @ietss @itsyagirlmeee @multi-fandom-lover7667 @turtle-cant-communicate @liliac-dreamer @queenofmean14 @syraxnyra @chelseyyouraverageluigi @jtheteenagewitch

[valkyriexo]

Pretty Pretty Princess

ᑉ³pairing; Dad! Husband! Changbin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff

ᑉ³warnings; None I think!

ᑉ³Authors Note; Inspired by his loveable challenge hehehe. Unedited! Please let me know if there are any warnings I am missing!

In a quaint little house nestled among towering trees, you and your family reside in a haven of warmth and love. Your husband, Changbin, is the embodiment of tenderness and affection, showering your little family with his boundless love. His devotion to your daughter, Ha-ri, knows no bounds, evident in the sparkle of his eyes whenever she enters the room and the infectious laughter that fills the air whenever they engage in their favorite pastime: playing games.

Ha-ri, a bundle of boundless energy and imagination, adores her father with an unwavering devotion. She finds solace in his comforting presence and revels in the joyous moments they share together. From dawn till dusk, their laughter echoes through the halls of your home as they embark on countless adventures, fueled by the magic of their imaginations.

One bright morning, you awaken to the gentle glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, your body still heavy with sleep. As you stretch and yawn, you become aware of a dull ache in your head and a weariness that seems to seep into your bones. Your body craves nothing more than the comfort of your bed, a respite from the demands of the day ahead.

But before you can surrender to the allure of sleep, your peaceful reverie is interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps and excited chatter. With a soft creak, the door bursts open, and your daughter, a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm, bounds into the room.

"Mommy, Mommy! Wake up! It's time to play!" she exclaims, her voice brimming with excitement as she tugs at your sleeve, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Despite the exhaustion that weighs heavily upon you, you can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Her joy is like a beacon in the darkness, illuminating the corners of your tired soul and filling your heart with warmth.

Though every fiber of your being yearns for rest, you know that her happiness is worth far more than a few extra hours of sleep. You get up and get dragged by her into the living room. She begins to harass you with questions.

"What do you want to do today? Should we play dress-up? Fashion show? Paint? Cook? Karaoke? Dance? How abo-"

"Woah, slow down, sweetheart," Binnie interjects as you collapse onto the couch, your head spinning. "Take a deep breath. It's still early, and you have all day to play."

Finally, Binnie glances at you, and realization dawns on him. You're not feeling well.

"But I want to play now!" your daughter protests.

As you sit there, torn between your desire for rest and your daughter's insistent pleas for playtime, a wave of gratitude washes over you as Binnie steps forward to take charge. His presence alone is a source of comfort, his steady gaze and reassuring smile grounding you in the midst of your conflicting emotions.

With a gentle kiss and a whispered promise to handle the situation, Binnie redirects your daughter's attention, his voice laced with warmth and patience as he engages her in conversation.

"Don't worry, Mommy needs some rest today, but how about you and I have some fun together?" Binnie suggests, his tone soft yet firm.

Your daughter's face lights up at the suggestion, her eyes shining with excitement. "Okay, Daddy! Let's paint!"

"Paint?" Binnie says hesitantly, nervous, as he does not want to make a mess and make his wife feel any worse than she already does.

"Yes, paint!" she responds, pulling him over to the dining room table. "Your nails, silly!"

Binnie's apprehension melts away at her innocent suggestion, replaced by a smile as he realizes the simple joy in spending time with his daughter, even if it means risking a few painted nails.

Your eyes begin to close as you hear the two begin their fun. Their laughter and excitement fill the room as they dive into the world of painting. You can't help but smile at the joy on their faces, despite the pounding in your head.

As they settle at the dining room table, you feel a pang of guilt mixed with gratitude for Binnie's willingness to step in and lighten your load, even when he's unsure of what lies ahead.

Your eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion tugs at your consciousness, yet you find solace in the sounds of their laughter and the warmth that fills the room. Despite the pounding in your head and the weariness in your bones, their happiness brings a sense of peace to your tired soul.

With a contented sigh, you allow yourself to drift into a light slumber, safe in the knowledge that your family is in good hands. And as you surrender to the embrace of sleep, you can't help but smile at the thought of the memories being created in the next room, each one a testament to the love and laughter that fills your home.

But the painting somehow turns into dress-up, and before you know it, Binnie is decked out in fairy wings and a tutu, playing make-believe with your daughter.

As you wake, you catch sight of Binnie in his whimsical attire, his laughter mingling with your daughter's as they lose themselves in their imaginary world. Despite the initial surprise, you can't help but smile at the sight.

As you continue to wake you hear snippets of conversation, the soft murmur of Binnie's voice blending with your daughter's excited chatter.

"Daddy, you make the best fairy!" your daughter exclaims, her laughter bubbling with delight.

Binnie chuckles, the sound warm and comforting. "Why, thank you, my pretty pretty princess! Now, where shall we fly to today?"

"To the enchanted forest!" she declares, her imagination taking flight.

"Daddy, can you teach me how to flutter like a real fairy?" your daughter asks, her eyes shining with wonder.

Binnie nods, his smile wide and infectious. "Of course, sweetheart! Just follow my lead."

You watch with a soft smile as they twirl and dance around the room, their laughter filling the air like music. 

As their laughter reaches a crescendo, Binnie's eyes meet yours, and you can't help but notice the hint of embarrassment that colors his cheeks. Yet, beneath the blush, there's a spark of mischief in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation.

With a chuckle bubbling up from deep within, you shake your head in amusement, unable to contain your laughter at the sight of your husband, adorned in fairy wings and a tutu, dancing with your daughter.

In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of their laughter and the warmth of their love, you realize just how fortunate you are to have Binnie by your side, willing to embrace the whimsy of fatherhood with such grace and humor.

As the last strains of laughter fade away, Binnie takes a step towards you, his eyes soft with affection. "I love you," he whispers, his words a tender melody that fills your heart with warmth.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you return his gaze, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion that binds you together. "I love you too," you reply, your voice barely a whisper, but carrying the weight of a thousand promises.

In that moment, as the morning sun bathes the room in golden light, you knew you married the best man.

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

[doumadono]

can I have a emergency request please?

can u make headcanons for hawks and gojo having a overweight reader and she insecure about it

(i get made fun of for my weight alot and it ended up making me have a toxic relationship with food)

i don't know if this counts as a emergency request so please ignore if it doesn't and sorry for bothering you

A/N: it pains me to know that people can be hurtful, especially when it comes to something as personal as our bodies. I want you to know that you're not alone in this struggle. I understand the impact of weight-related bullying, as I went through a similar experience a few years ago when I was critically overweighted. It's crucial to remember that your worth is not determined by your weight, and you deserve to be treated with kindness and respect. Developing a healthy relationship with food can be a journey, but I believe in your strength to overcome these challenges. If you ever need someone to talk to or share your experiences with, I'm here for you

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Hawks

Despite societal expectations, Hawks is attracted to confidence, and he finds your self-assurance endearing.

Hawks is never shy about expressing his admiration. He showers you with genuine compliments regularly, making sure you know how beautiful he finds you.

"Hey, gorgeous, those curves of yours drive me wild. Wouldn't change a thing about you."

Whenever you express insecurity, Hawks is quick to respond with comforting words.

"You're perfect the way you are. I'm not with you because of some ideal image; I'm with you because I love you."

Hawks loves taking you shopping for clothes, picking out outfits that highlight your best features. "Let's find something that makes those curves pop, babe!"

Hawks is physically affectionate, hugging you from behind or placing sweet kisses on your forehead.

"Your weight doesn't define you. It's your heart, your mind – that's what matters most to me."

Hawks initiates heart-to-heart talks, reassuring you of his love and acceptance. "You're the only one for me. Don't let anyone nor anything make you feel less."

Hawks follows body positivity influencers on social media with you, creating a positive and uplifting environment. "Look at these amazing people celebrating their bodies. You're part of this beautiful spectrum, too."

Gojo

Gojo has a nonchalant attitude towards societal beauty standards. Your weight doesn't bother him in the slightest.

"Who cares about people's opinion? You're beautiful, and that's all that matters."

Gojo might engage in playful banter to lighten the mood when you're feeling insecure.

"Come on, don't let a few numbers on a scale mess with your head. You're perfect for me."

He doesn't hesitate to affirm your worth and beauty when needed.

"You're not defined by your size, sweetpie. You're defined by your strength, your kindness, and the incredible person you are."

If you decide to embark on a fitness journey, Gojo is your biggest cheerleader. "You're doing this for yourself, not because of anyone else's expectations. I'm here to support you, not to change you."

Sex with Gojo is filled with tenderness and genuine passion. "Your body is a masterpiece, and I'm lucky to have it all to myself, babygirl."

Expect movie nights with Gojo involve watching films that celebrate diverse bodies and love stories, reinforcing the idea that love isn't confined to societal expectations. "See, love comes in all shapes and sizes, just like us."

[theamityelf]

What I think I would find the most emotionally satisfying lore for Amanda the Adventurer is as follows:

Everything (or most everything) with eyes is one of the missing kids. Already kind of implied, by that one ending in the first game where you become meat in the butcher shop, but worth saying outright.

Opossum is Kate. I made a post about that one.

Sam is something else, maybe the narrator from "When You're Feeling Bad."

Amanda and Wooly are engaged in a battle of wills in which they overall have roughly equal power but express it in different ways. Every time a burst of static interrupts either of them, it's because the other one just won a spiritual arm-wrestling match of sorts (like Amanda asserting herself against Wooly in the beginning of the "Accidents" tape, or Wooly asserting himself against Amanda in the beginning of the "Patience" tape; both times, one of them is trying to express a thought or feeling and then static happens and then after the static they suddenly can't express that thought or feeling anymore).

Wooly, as pretty much everyone has said, is acting in Hameln's interest. I don't have strong feelings as to whether he's doing it out of actual loyalty to Hameln or just because he's in denial or the path of least resistance hurts less. I do think it's more likely one or both of the last two.

Amanda/Rebecca is unwilling to go the path of least resistance. She is in a constant state of screaming for help and comfort and companionship.

The fact that Wooly is unwilling to let Amanda go off track and Amanda is unwilling to surrender to the script places them constantly at odds. Amanda would not be attacking Wooly if he left her alone, but he refuses to do that.

My personal headcanon is that Wooly was originally a guy who worked as Rebecca's on-set teacher or whatever other kind of staff member you need to have on hand when you're a studio that works with children. Basically, I'm imagining a scene where Sam and Rebecca went to their first day at Hameln and were introduced to a really nice guy who got along with Rebecca really well, and he would walk her to the vending machine while Sam was talking business with the important people, and he was the one who consoled her (and got her to keep doing voice work) when Sam went missing, and now flash forward they're trapped in this nightmare together and can only find the comfort they seek by constantly hurting each other in different ways.

[neurodivergenttales]

Hyper-vigilance feels like such a huge component of the autistic experience.

You always have to be wary of your environment, question if it has the potential to overstimulate you, send you into a meltdown, find-out where your nearest exit route will be because being autistic and in distress in public is not safe.

You question the people around you - do they wish that the old, masked version of me was still here? Do they resent that I no longer have the energy or the capacity to uphold the mask which made me easier and more comfortable to be around?

You can't let your concentration falter from the spectre of burnout for too long - you ask yourself whether you can take-on a certain task or responsibility or if you'll be okay to follow through on plans because what if this is the thing that sends you spiralling into burnout again? If you push yourself too far you run the risk of spending more months or even years of your life contending with skill regression and the all-consuming depths of nothingness that burnout wraps around you like a suffocating blanket, unable to take part in society let alone engage in your interests or relationships or anything else that makes life worth living.

You are hyper-vigilant of your body - am i stimming too much? Are people noticing? Do i feel hungry? How do other people even know if they feel hungry? Am i over-tired or is a shutdown about to clamp its fist around me? What does my body need? Should I rest or will that make me feel worse?

There is so much questioning, so much uncertainty, such constant doubt when you're autistic in a world that is built contrary to your needs. It feels like you can never rest, never let your guard down. I am always preparing, always questioning every variable that might rear its head. It's part of the reason I don't leave the house much - I cannot even begin to comprehend trying to cope with any higher level of hyper-vigilance than that which already rules my body and my mind.