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hoseoksluna · 3 months ago

Text

INFINITY | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k

summary: your birthdays have never been happy until jungkook became your boyfriend.

note: IT'S MY BIRTHDAYYYYYY. and i wrote this little light fic in just a day for the occasion. no smut, just pure fluff and cuteness. i want you all to go back and read this fic on your own bday and imagine you have such an amazing bf like jk:( enjoy! i love you guys. MWAH.

He was supposed to be here.

Or at least that’s what your brain kept telling you throughout the longest workday of your life as your fingers tapped away on the keyboard and you used your sweet sing-song voice to talk to customers—something you do five, sometimes six days a week, although today was different.

Today was your birthday.

A pitifully miserable day that celebrates the moment you came into this world, only to realize, fifteen years later, that you don’t fit in—that it doesn’t have a place for you, where you belong and where you can be happy. A wretched day that your mom doesn’t want to celebrate because the preparations stress her out and because she thinks your family doesn’t really like you and she doesn’t want you to get sad, when they buy you gifts that are disappointing.

As if that mattered. As if you didn’t love your family enough that the gifts aren’t what’s important about this day.

This year shall be different, though. For the first time in your life you have a serious boyfriend that you’ve been with for a whole year now. A round but tall and muscular boyfriend. A Harley-Davidson driving, gold Marlboro-smoking boyfriend that you met a day after your birthday that should’ve been special but wasn’t. You spent it in tears because your mom made you feel guilty about wanting to celebrate it with your family, so you went out the following night with your girls to get drunk, go forget and met this man outside the bar that smoked alone and smiled at you a bit too often whenever you felt his gaze and turned around, your arm half-bent in the air, the cigarette smoke of your own swirling around your shivering form from the cold and the dull excitement that you caught the attention of someone so attractive and adorable at the same time.

The way his eyes glinted in the yellow lights, starry and tender, as if they had never seen the ugly in this world—or perhaps they have, but they never accepted it.

The way they rounded even more when you met them with your own, and the way his mouth parted because he seemingly couldn’t believe that you would notice him.

Your friends knew something you did, innerly, as well—that this man was special and that he was yours. Your best friend, the mom of the friend group, stubbed her cigarette and leaned inside the waterfall of your hair and instructed you what to do.

Stay here and have another cig. We’re going inside.

You felt that it was the right thing to do, and so you smiled and you nodded. Your best friend patted your head, smirked to herself and left without any other word.

You lit up another cigarette.

And Jungkook… he was a moth, transfixed by the flame, gravitating towards you and sparking up a conversation about the happy birthday headband you were wearing. And you stayed there with him until your fingers were numb with the iciness of the night and until you ran out of cigarettes.

But you didn’t go back to your friends all empty.

Jungkook slid two Marlboros of his own into your pack, infiltrated hope into your heart by talking to you so gently and so purely—a hope in a better life and a better world and a better birthday, and infused your lungs with poetry by the way he looked at you.

Like you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

And a month later, after many dates, you had a taste of infinity on his lips. The infinity of the universe, of the world, of the love that had been brewing in you for him. The infinity of life that likes you, that had mercy on you and gave you someone like him. You had shared that with him on many occasions, but the first time he heard it, he sobbed into your hands. And just like you knew it then that he was yours, you couldn’t doubt it at that moment.

He was engraved into your veins, written on the page that has your name within the Book of Life.

And now, a year later, you ponder the hope that has not left the chambers of your heart since that fateful night as you enter your dark, deserted apartment that carries his scent but not his presence.

You expected him to be here, waiting for you to come home after your afternoon shift. Your manager let you leave a half an hour early, an information you texted your boyfriend as soon as you received it, but now as you click on your messages with him, you perceive that he hasn’t even seen it.

It hasn’t even been delivered. Only sent.

Your heart cracks. The infinity thins out. You throw your brown leather purse onto the ground and try, with all your might, to keep your emotions at bay. The words of your mother flood your brain and your spine rounds at the heft of its innermore truth, your tiredness due to your long workday helping, breaking your back until you walk upon the debris of your own bones.

So much for having hope. So much for believing that you could be loved by those closest to you. Why is this happening to you? Why do you have to be so eternally sad? Having the wholeness of the world against you as if you were nothing, as if you weren’t a human being deserving of love—

The rapid railroad of your thoughts is halted by the three-seconds long beeping of your passcode being accepted and when you turn around, the world you thought was against you turns to face you, ready to immerse you in its kindness.

Jungkook enters. And it’s not a bouquet of flowers, whose petals graze against his sweaty temple. No, it’s a humongous pot of a white orchid that swallows all light of the room, only to spit it back down your throat when Jungkook crosses the distance and kisses you until your mind gets woozy, spinning around and around.

A hard, alarming kiss that contains many, many questions.

The light mends your heart, the softness of his lips, despite the harshness of the long peck, gluing all those broken parts together, and your lungs bloom with new flowers of poetry that he’s more than capable of taking care of in you. His free hand grips your waist, intensifying the questions in the kiss and when he pulls back, they thump in his big, round eyes that are never brown, but endlessly black.

They thump so vivaciously that they plunge out of his mouth almost immediately.

“Where were you? I waited for you outside of your work. I wanted to pick you up,” he says, panting, so out of breath as if he ran all the way here and broke a sweat. A bead of perspiration trickles down his other temple—and there, behind his ear, you notice a singular cigarette with a brown butt.

Gold Marlboro.

The sight is an electricity that drives life into your heart, making it beat as if it was never broken in the first place.

Your lips are dry, your throat parched, and you think you need another one of his kisses. As a matter of fact, that’s all you want. His kisses, his sweat, his warm presence.

Him.

“My manager let me go home half an hour early,” you explain, gripping the hand that holds you, feeling guilty. Jungkook’s eyes pierce you, paying the utmost attention to you, coaxing your words out of you. You can vividly see that he needs them. “I texted you. I thought you’d be here.”

Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes for a split second. A wave of relief washes over him and he purses his lips before he presses them not against your own, but against your cheek, his free hand migrating to the back of your head. And the warmth of his palm slaughters all of your bad thoughts, makes space for happy thoughts and happy emotions—and the act is so severely profound that you have to hold onto him, grip his waist like he gripped yours, and take the transformation as best as you can.

“I was so scared,” he whispers onto your cheekbone, resting his face against yours, sinking his fingers into your hair. “If it weren’t for your coworker who told me that you left early, I would still be standing there.” He withdraws, looking down at you and pointing your face up at him. “My phone died. I didn’t get your message. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I wanted to surprise you.”

Your heart enlarges, escaping out of your throat and into the pot he’s still holding. You shake your head, thinking he doesn’t need to be sorry for anything, and pucker your lips to ask for another kiss. Jungkook nearly whimpers at the sight, leaning down and obliging, softening the kiss he’s so willing to give you, melting it into a hundred more kisses that make your tummy flutter. And there, there the hope, which he had suffused you with a year ago, comes to a full circle and you comprehend that as long as you have him, you’ll never spend your birthday in despair.

And because of that, you deepen the kiss.

The tears streaming down your cheeks feel so terribly faint owing to the overwhelmingness of your emotions. It is gladness that clutches your whole being, gratitude second, and your expanding love for him in third place. And all those emotions dissolve into his cheeks in the infinity of your kiss and it is when you press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck that you realize that the orchid pot isn’t the only gift he has for you. Around the same wrist, belonging to his hand that holds the flower, are hung small gift bags that prevent you from fully dissipating into him—and that is the matter that severs the kiss, which holds the entire universe.

And it’s not the contents of the gift bags that makes it collapse.

It’s the red ring box that he fishes out of his pocket.

Jungkook doesn’t get down on his knee. His hands tremble, very much like your heart, your blood system, your muscles, as he opens the box and allows you to see the gift for your very first special birthday. A diamond ring, held up by a gold lining shaped into an infinity sign. The infinity of his kiss, the infinity of your love for him, the little things you observed that made him cry—all made true in a singular ring that flits in his tattooed, trembling hand. The orchid gets placed on the nearby round table and the foreign emotions, which go beyond the ordinary happy emotions you’ve ever felt, suffocate you. So much that you begin to tremble just the same, sobbing as you turn your gaze away from the magnificent ring to the greater, blurry magnificence of his eyes just to catch the same, identical tears drenching his red, red cheeks.

“Jungkook…” you mewl, sniffling, your constricting lungs not letting you say anything else, and you cup his hands like a flower. Perhaps to still their quivering, perhaps to just simply hold them—feel his warmth, feel the vibrancy of his tattoos—because, truth be told, you have no idea what’s happening.

Jungkook calls you by your name in order to have your full attention and you anticipate finding in him the meaning of this all, stability and groundness. And he doesn’t hesitate. Hell, he doesn’t waste a second.

“My little princess,” he starts but pauses momentarily, his bottom lip quivering as he holds his tears and you fall apart. At the pet name, at the unfolding of his emotions that bear nothing but raw beauty you’d readily die for. “This is my promise to you that I am yours for all infinity. Nothing can break it, nothing can stop it, and that defines our life together. I want to spend it with you until we’re the last two people on this Earth. I know our love will keep us alive.” Tears spurt down onto his cheeks against his strong will and you wipe them away as you feel yourself swelling up with love, with something beyond joy, and with utmost, utmost adrenaline. “I love you with everything in me.” His voice breaks and you break in tandem. Jungkook envelops a buff arm around you, burying you into his chest, and for the last part of his speech, he draws close to your ear. “Happy birthday.”

And he kisses that little seashell, kisses the planes of your cheeks until he finds your lips that he seizes, violently, with his until the infinity bursts at the seams, imbuing you with its eternal, yet different energy that promises that everything from now on shall be joyful and beautiful. His sob entangles with yours and, pulling away with a smack, he grins down at you. No piercings, just the flush of his cheeks and the love for you he radiates adorning him—and you love him.

You love him so awfully devastatingly.

And you tell him. You tell him as he takes your left second-last finger and slides the promise ring down that digit. And you tell him again when you meet his eyes, as if for the first time all over again and jump into his arms. The diamond reflects the light, stealing it, hiding it for you and him, the size of the ring fitting so perfectly that another set of tears gush through.

And then he’s patting your bum, telling you to open your gifts and he kneels with you on the floor and goes through each bag he got you. A red lipstick, a perfume, a black silky dress with matching stilettos—all of which he wants you to wear on a Saturday night with him to celebrate. Then, all your favorite ‘you’ things that you love. Face masks, even lip masks, bath bombs, shower gels and body creams. Fluffy socks, pajamas, granny panties. A bottle of red wine and four packs of grape ice vape.

Jungkook leaves you stunned. And you don’t have time to process all those wonderful things because suddenly you’re up on your feet and you’re led into a rhythm of a song he begins to hum, slow dancing with you in your living room. One hand firm on your waist, the other just as firm clasped around your hand, his eyes fixed on you, mouth in that everlasting pout.

And you fade into him. Don’t think about your mother and the hurtful things she said. They cease to exist in the atmosphere of your shared life with him, more now than ever. You focus on the stability of his grip on you, the smoothness of his hand, the tightness you feel on your waist that grounds you, your feet that get on well with his in this dance and your hips that he loves to see moving. You focus on yourself; you focus on him. On the way he dressed up for you, ironed his black shirt and on the way he still smells so good, even though he broke a sweat.

On the way he just committed his life to you.

And then, he’s dressing you in the pajamas he bought you. Baggy and banana-patterned, beige and yellow colored, sitting you down on your couch and lifting your legs, one by one, to keep your feet warm with your matching socks. He’s taking your make-up off, brushing your teeth and smoothing down a face mask on your forehead, cheeks and chin, pecking you sweetly. And you’re straddling him, putting the same one on the planes of his face, and as you’re focusing, he meditates on something within his heart.

And Jungkook shares it with you, all ruffled, sleepy and puffy.

“I love you, my little princess. For all infinity.”

You breathe it in, believing him.

“I love you, Jungkookie. For all infinity.”

You fall asleep like this—on his bare chest with your face mask still on, one that he peels off after the fifteen minute mark. And you dream about what your infinity with him looks like as your age no longer matters and stops here.

Infinitely young, infinitely loved.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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xxnghtclls · 1 year ago

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A little spontaneous analysis on Sukuna and his view on love and rejection that I blurted out while reading about Heian Era marriage this morning 🤓

That Sukuna panel came to mind with him saying, he’s “a cursed, unwanted little wretch”. (I was told “hated” was another way to translate it, but it’s the same in the end).

Disclaimer: These are just my thoughts using this specific translation. However Sukuna is a complex character and nothing is black and white and I’m probably heavily cherry picking here or reading way too much into this more than I should or would be necessary. 😆 WELL

Somehow it struck to me that one of the FEW things we know about Sukuna, is that he never married or bore any children. This is even more interesting, considering the fact that in the JJK verse, we do have a few absent wifes/lovers to name, that we know little to nothing about. Be it Megumi‘s mother, Kaori or a nonexistent wife of Sukuna. People often claim that Sukuna is a virgin, cause he didn’t marry or had kids. This is a whole other discussion, but this claim kept lingering in my head and made me think about marriage in the first place. Marriage and children often being a wholesome concept of love in our modern understanding, I first thought the marriage thing to be in connection to his claim to love being useless, that he not even once had interest in love. I think there‘s more to that.

(although I do think that someone who claims that love is worthless kinda sounds heartbroken, but yeah anyway)

But then I thought „wait we’re speaking ancient times, did love play any role in marriage anyway?“

We still don‘t know the social status in which Sukuna was born in, but in regards to heian era, marriage was first and foremost a thing to secure and show social status. Marriages out of love weren‘t common, even seen as unrealistic.

Marriages were mostly arranged, often when they were still teenagers even. And this is what caught my attention. Sukuna says he was born a cursed unwanted little wretch and I first assumed this claim purely focuses on his parents and his early childhood.

But given the social norms in heian era, what if it also meant that he was literally unable to marry later on, that he wasn’t just unwanted by his by his parents, but by a possible spouse as well? Him saying he was “cursed and unwanted” indicates that it was a state he was put in, not a state he sought out to be. You could even argue, that him saying he was “unwanted” or “hated” even required him not wanting to be treated that way. Which child would want that? Which makes it even more interesting that he says, that he never thought about needing someone else to fulfill him. In connection to what I said before, it could almost sound hateful. As well as this moment here, which always occurred to me as if he said it from own experience.

Because when you grow up in a surrounding that hates & repels you, it makes sense that you grow indifferent to society, but it doesn’t necessarily mean it was always that way. Him being unwanted makes so much sense in connection with him saying, that he focuses solely on himself and that he has complete disregard to others. Which makes sense, when it’s a result of not having anybody who wants or loves you. It leaves you with yourself and yourself only.

I know a lot of you really wanna fight the thought of Sukuna having a hard childhood but who cares honestly? I don‘t think it would make him less of a strong character. Every human is the result of their surroundings and as stated, Sukuna is human too. Based on that, you could even argue that the only kind of love he knows and sees as the real love, was an aggressive one. This would explain why he sees the slaughter of those who fought Kashimo as love.

Ok back to marriage! When I read about marriage, there was another thing that caught my attention and that was poetry! We know Sukuna is a little nerd, who is eager to learn and it’s indicated that he even enjoyed poetry. (His immediate reaction to Yorozu‘s Haiku being that it lacks the seasonal word.) Back then, when someone was about to apply for marriage, what did they do? Yeah right, they wrote letters to someone.

As I stated above, you could assume that there was a time, where Sukuna was not utterly hateful and indifferent to social contacts (I know that’s a reach, but that’s up for interpretation as long as we don’t know his backstory.)

If we assume, that Sukuna was born looking the way he looks, then it wouldn’t surprise me if there was a lot of rejection involved in the way the proposal was practised as described above. I don‘t wanna paint Sukuna as the poor rejected here, but idk maybe he was.

We all eagerly await Sukuna‘s backstory and I‘m so excited to learn about him. This suddenly turned into an analysis of Sukuna and his view on love and whatnot, but please remember, I’m not saying that any of this might have actually happened.

It’s just some connections my brain made while reading about marriage and thinking about some of the stuff that Sukuna said. I just had to write it down.

Here‘s the source: click

#nighty talks #theory #sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 237 #jjk238

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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 months ago

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Hi!! Love your acc, it's really useful for fics <33 I was wondering if you knew any fics that elaborated on the morgue scene (the one where john beat up shrelock) bc i always felt it was very brushed over in the series and frankly i think it needed to be elaborated on more.

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, yeah, I think I've been asked this a few times and I've just not ever posted a proper list. So because I need a list for this week, here's all of my TLD-adjacent fics I found doing a tag-search AND from old replies to other asks! Hope you enjoy, and add your own if you have them, friends!

TLD FIX-ITS / AFTERMATH of TLD

BOOKMARKS

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

The In-Between by blueink3 (M, 10,679 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Parentlock, Fix-It Fic, Canon Compliant) – Beginning in a Chinese restaurant and ending at the bottom of a well, what about the moments we didn’t see?

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Multiple Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being. Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series

MARKED FOR LATER

toasting to grief by slylyaddictedtostories(T, 181 w., 1 Ch. || Poetry || Post T6T / TLD, Missing Scene) – John mussing over a drink about (missing) Sherlock and everything (he) they lost

Reconciliation by standbygo (T, 221 w, 1 Ch. || TLD Missing Scene, 221B Ficlet, Fix it Fic) – A missing scene from S4E2, "The Lying Detective". The hug was beautiful, but I wanted to add to it. My mother once said to me that you can forgive on your own, but you need to reconcile together.

My Heart Beats For You by jalexandria (M, 1,212 w., 1 Ch. || Hanahaki Disease AU || TLD Divergence, Angst, Non-Canonical Character Death, Sad Ending, Drugs, Pining Sherlock, Hurt John, Death Fic) – Things go very, very badly when John makes a horrible mistake.

Sherlock chooses himself by thewallflower07 (G, 2,035 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / No TFP, No Parentlock, Dialogue Heavy, Sherlock is a Mess, Sherlock and Feelings, John is Not Good, Angst) – Sherlock is a physical and emotional mess after John beats him bloody during the Culverton Smith case. He visits his therapist, who tells him to be selfish for the first time in his life. When John appears with his daughter and asks him to move back, Sherlock has to make a very difficult decision.

Reasons Wretched and Divine by Anyawen (G, 2,218 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix-It, John Has Issues, Admissions, Apologies, Explanations, Conversations, Emotions, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Drama & Angst, Declarations, Suicide, Assault, Marriage, Death, Drug Use, Guilt) – In the aftermath of Smith's arrest, John faces his anger and his regrets, exposing his vulnerabilities to Sherlock. They find ways to heal together.

Antiseptic by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,599 w., 1 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix-It, Unseen Moments, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Protective Mycroft, Protective Greg, BAMF Mrs Hudson, Requited Unrequited Love) – What did John hear on that secret tape from Culverton’s hospital?

It Is What It Is by SpookyPorg (T, 3,874 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Angst, Hug Scene, Love Confessions, Pining, Happy Ending, Making Out, Grief, First Kiss / Time) – After the very traumatizing events at the hospital, and John's heroic last-minute rescue, Sherlock is recovering at 221B. Doing his part to keep Sherlock under strict supervision, John pays a visit to his old flat for the first time in months. Reconciliation leads to confession.

The Tragedy Of Us by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,898 w., 2 Ch. || Post TLD, Angst, Romance, Tragedy, Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Miscommunication, Requited Unrequited Love, Ambiguous / Open Ending) – John reflects on his relationship with Sherlock while the man is convalescing in hospital— twice.

wires Series by highfunctioningsociopath (M, 5,000+ w. across 2 works || Series WiP || Post T6T / TLD, Angst, Hurt / No Comfort, Loneliness, Mind Palace, Survivor Guilt, Mental Health Issues, Drug Addiction / Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Sherlock POV, Missing Scenes, Introspection, Psychological Trauma, Abusive Relationships, Grey Mary, Withdrawal, Depression, Self-Esteem Issues) – The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, after all. It just so happens to be lined with self-destruction.

I Want to Hear You Say It by LollipopCop (M, 8,000 w., 2 Ch. || TLD / S4 Fix It, Suicidal Thoughts, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, Suffocation, Crying, First Kiss, Pining Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Instead of making Sherlock say he doesn't want to die, Culverton Smith forces Sherlock to repeatedly confess that he loves John before his death.

The Waning of Withdrawal by LoloLolly (E, 8,248 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix-It, First Kiss, First Time, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Sexual Identity, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Sherlock's Scars, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Guilt) – Sherlock holds a weeping John in his arms and… does something that will forever change things between them. For better or worse. He fears the latter.

Slowly Suffocating by meet_me_in_samarra (M, 9,500 w., 7 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Suffocation, Hurt / Comfort, Whump) – Getting suffocated took some time. Enough time for Sherlock to ponder what went wrong. Hopefully also long enough for John to arrive and rescue him. Culverton Smith applied more pressure, impatient to turn Sherlock into a dead thing. A continuous story written for Whumptober 2023, following the 31 prompts for each day.

And Then There Were Two by NimWallace (T, 10,194 w., 20 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Angst, Grief / Mourning, Mystery, Cults) – It's quiet at Baker Street. Too quiet. It's been a year since Mary died, but only a few months since the events of the Final Problem, and Sherlock and John have fallen into a state of despairing and monotony. So when a case involving a vicious cult on the English Country side appears, they quickly jump to go undercover as Sean Harmony and John Wales. But how can Sherlock keep a delicate John from breaking? And how can John come to terms with his love for his detective? Most importantly, what really happened the night of the Final Problem?

The Death and Resurrection of a Beekeeper by shiplocks_of_love (M, 12,922 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || TLD / S4 Fix-It Fic, Sherlock’s Retirement, Sussex / Seaside, Brief Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Trauma, Angst with Hopeful Ending, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Partial Epistolary, No Eurus) – Sherlock escapes London for a quiet, solitary life in Sussex, exhausted after the whirlwind of drama following Mary’s death. One day, a letter arrives.

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (T, 13,120 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas-Carol Inspired || Post S3/Post-TLD / TFP Doesn't Exist, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Magical Realism) – It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

The Ashes on the Ground by 221Beloved (M, 13,545+ w., 5/22 Ch. || WiP || Post-TLD, Miscommunication, Pining, Depression, Angst with Happy Ending, POV Sherlock) –What happens after? After the fire has burnt down and left nothing but ashes? Roughly two and a half years after what happened at Smith's hospital, things have settled. But have they really? Or is it all still hovering. And what if someone whirls up the ashes again? An old acquaintance. Can something new arise from cold ashes? Something stronger?

Entitled by Ranowa (T, 14,023 w., 2 Ch. || TLD Timeline, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Paternal Lestrade, John’s a Bit Not Good, Sherlock is a Mess) – Lestrade draws a line, because he knows Sherlock won't.

Hope is a Subtle Glutton by isitandwonder (E, 15,753 w., 1 Ch. || No Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC, Racism, Aftermath of Violence, Happy Ending) – This is a story about Sherlock Holmes finally finding love and the happiness he deserves - just not with John Watson.

Angry Men by FawnHickory (M, 16,975 w., 16 Ch. || WiP || Post TLD Morgue Incident, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self Examination, Big Brother Mycroft, Past Abuse, Sad Sherlock) – Greg gave John some things to consider in Destroy Him. John faces some uncomfortable truths about himself. Part 2 of the A Good Man and An Angry Man

What It Can Be by amaruuk (T, 18,310 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD, Healing Friendship, Mutual Pining, First Kisses, Cake) – "Which is why we're all taking it in turns to keep you off the sweeties." With the help of his friends, Sherlock is healing from drug overuse and physical injuries. He is also trying to salvage his friendship with John with the hope that, perhaps, they can make it something more.

Hot Water Bottle by khorazir (T, 18,436 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Autumn, Bed Sharing, Developing Relationship, First Kiss) – A case in one of the remotest corners of the Lake District, a storm, an inn, a broken boiler, a room with two beds but only one hot water bottle, and two men who have a lot to sort out between them – all of this makes for a night to remember.

Contrition by sussexbound (E, 18,556+ w., 5/? Ch. || WiP || Post-S4/TFP Didn’t Happen, Rosie Doesn’t Exist, T6T/TLD is Canon, Year After TLD, Light BDSM, Soft Dom Sherlock / Sub John, Punishment, Light Bondage, Light Masochism / No Sadism, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Tenderness, Aftercare, Forgiveness, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Mutual Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Frottage, Communication, Sexual Negotiation, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Head Injury, Anal Sex) – “You’ve been tense ever since we got back, itching for a fight, all your usual tells, but why…?” The truth strikes like lightning. “Oh… Oh! You’re not angry at me. Not this time. Well—maybe a little. But mostly, mostly you’re angry at yourself. Why? For falling behind? For not being there in time. For not taking Wilkes down fast enough?” Sherlock waves a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t really matter.” He lifts a finger to his swollen cheek and cut eyebrow. “You blame yourself for this. And you offered to fix it. But I wouldn’t let you, and… But that’s not what you really want, anyway, is it?” John looks stunned, a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming lorry, frozen, waiting for the lethal strike. “You don’t want me to let you help. At least not right away. No. What you want, what you really want is—punishment.”

The Nearer Your Destination by Silvergirl (E, 18,949 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TLD, Established Relationship, Wedding, Venice Honeymoon, Parentlock, Jealousy) – After a December wedding, Sherlock takes John to Venice for a February honeymoon. It's absolutely perfect, up until the moment he hears John growl, "What the hell is Zanardi doing here?" Part 4 of the Drawn to Stars series

Repentance by LollipopCop (E, 19,782 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TLD/Post S4 Fix It, Not TFP-Compliant, John-Centric, Angst, Self-Loathing, Hugging, First Kiss/Time, Rosie, Love Confessions, Crying, John’s Issues) – John cannot understand why Sherlock even wants to look at him after the horrible way he acted, and his guilt is destroying him. Why doesn’t Sherlock snap at him, scream at him, treat him the way he deserves?

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Misfortune by Sherlockwatsonholmesblog (M, 20,455+ w., 4/7 Ch || Post TLD, Five Stages of Grief, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Implied / Referenced Suicide, Self Hatred, Slow Burn, Emotional Trauma, Recovery) – There seems to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance, for they have loved each other immensely. However, Some Days, love isn’t enough. Sherlock and John persevering, as always.

Becoming Us (A reunion in three parts) by addicted2hugh (E, 23,207 w., 3 Ch. || S4 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, First Time, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Light Parentlock, Bottom Sherlock, Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Sherlock is a Mess) – After watching Mary's last message, Sherlock and John try to be the "Baker Street Boys" again. Rebuilding the destroyed flat is the easy part. Will they manage to rebuild their friendship as well? And what did Mary mean when she said: "And if I'm gone, I know what you could become."?

Danger Nights by khorazir (T, 23,591 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TLD, Friends to Lovers, Mentioned Parentlock, Pining, First Kiss/Time, Winter, Folklore, Wales, Spooky Elements, Bed Sharing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Spooky Elements) – According to folklore, the nights between Christmas and Twelfth Night are the most dangerous of the year. During them, the Wild Hunt rides, and ghosts and demons come out to haunt unsuspecting and misbehaving folk. An investigation of a series of strange occurrences leads John and Sherlock to Hay-on-Wye on the Welsh Marches, to face ghosts weird and ancient as well as close and personal – and perhaps to start the new year on a more hopeful note than the previous one.

the silence of your words by dyingofangst (E, 27,326 w., 6 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Isn’t Canon, Case Fic, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Night Conversations, Self-Esteem Issues) – Three years after John decided to distance himself from Sherlock, Rosie is kidnapped and John asks for Sherlock's help. But they're not what they used to be, and even if they learned how to heal on their own, there are still many things left unsaid between them, things they'll have to put aside to focus on finding Rosie, while both hoping it's not too late.

under the burden of solitude by subtext-is-my-division (E, 27,947 w., 5 Ch. || S3/S4 Fix It/Post TLD, Angst, Grief/Mourning, First Kiss, Mentions of Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Fantasies, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Suicidal Thoughts Mentions, Five and Ones) – Five times they shared a bed platonically, and one time they didn't.

Entangled by missselene (E, 29,044 w., 13 Ch. || Original Male Character, One-Sided Johnlock, Online Dating, Lonely Sherlock, Dancing, First Kiss, Oblivious John, Dev. Rel., Jealous John) – Sherlock knows John will never return his feelings. So what if he decided to look for love elsewhere? Part 1 of the Sherlock & Sanjay series

Lessons in Astronomy Series by CaitlinFairchild (E, 31,164 w. across 3 stories || Angst, Post S3, Grief/Mourning, Mildly DubCon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Oral/Anal Sex, Unrequited Love, Pining, Sibling Incest (No Actual Holmescest), Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Drug Addiction, Romance, Dev. Rel., Trust Issues, Happy Ending) – In a different time, a more naive time, Sherlock thought he was the star and John the satellite, circling him in worshipful orbit. He knows now that was never true. John was always the sun, bright and fierce, and Sherlock was the pale, cold moon, his only heat coming from the light he reflected. And then his sun went into supernova. Moriarty said he would burn him and he has, and John is the fire, his rage and grief incinerating Sherlock, burning the heart out of him in the end, turning him into nothing but cinder and ash. And now the supernova is collapsing, a black hole born where there was once warmth and heat and love, and Sherlock is being pulled down, down past the event horizon, into the endless frozen void where nothing can ever escape.

A Case for Domestic Propinquity by SilentAuror (E, 32,308 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TFP / Post S4 Fix It, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Domesticity) – As Sherlock and John renovate Baker Street with Rosie underfoot, Sherlock can't help but wondering how he could possibly convince John to just stay indefinitely... [TRANSLATIONS: 中文-普通话國語] | Русский]

Afghan Bullets, Beards, and Unlocked Bedroom Doors Series by addicted2hugh (E, 38,761+ w. across 2 works || WiP || Post-S4, Bearded John, Porn With Feelings, Friends to Lovers, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, References to Canon, Flashbacks, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, References to Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Top Sherlock, Reunion) – Set after series 4. The boys are living together again, and John's new style drives Sherlock crazy. He's trying to keep his besotted heart and over-excited libido a secret, but John has other plans. Lots. Of. SEX. And love.

A Thing With Peas by khorazir (M, 39,5537 w., 3 Ch. || Post-S3/Post-TLD/TFP Doesn't Exist, Fluff and Angst, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Asexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Parentlock, First Kiss) – Sherlock does the laundry. John cooks a thing with peas. They talk. Finally.

Limerence by SherlockWatson_Holmes (NR, 41,763 w., 17 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix It, Character Death, Drug Use, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending) – Limerence (noun); The state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person: typically characterised by a strong desire to maintain a relationship with the object of love and have one’s feelings reciprocated. S4 fix-it, starting on the tarmac.

Nocturne by SilentAuror (E, 47,927 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4 / S4 Fix It, Trauma, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, POV John, Sherlock Whump) – When Sherlock is injured at a crime, an avalanche of suppressed trauma opens up. John ends up moving into his bedroom to ward off the nightmares, hoping against hope that this arrangement can last indefinitely. This is a story of nights spent together, trauma recovery, and John finally learning some truths long hidden.

The Night Is Darkest by missselene (E, 48,461 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TLD, Extremely Dub Con, S4 Rage Monster John, Insecure Sherlock, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Exploration, Healing, Self Care, Self Acceptance, Sexual Exploration, Casual Sex, Gentle Sex, Sherlock/OMC, Threesome with 2 OMCs, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Communication, Internalized Homophobia, Relationship Negotiation) – Sherlock Holmes would do anything for John Watson... and that includes letting John do whatever he wants to him. What would it take for Sherlock to stand up for himself and finally start taking care of his own needs?

Borrowed Ghosts by DiscordantWords (M, 57,216 w., 10 Ch. || TLD Divergence / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Minor Lestrolly, Pining Sherlock, John’s a Mess, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Ghost Mary, Guilt, Forgiveness, Drinking, No Hug Scene) – In the aftermath of the Culverton Smith case, John spent one painfully stilted afternoon hanging out with Sherlock. He counted the minutes, finished his tea, and left for home without ever clearing the air between them.And once he'd left, he found it very hard to go back.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (M, 68,552 w., 6 Ch. || Magical Realism / Discworld Elements || Post TLD, Miscommunication, L-Space, Developing Relationship, Parentlock, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Bookshop) – After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only constitutes of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

This Would Make You Happy? by Ranowa (M, 71,217 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix It, Past Viclock, Past Sherlock/OMC, Therapy, Protective John, Drug Use, Pining, Autistic Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending) – John, more than anything else, wants Sherlock to be happy. Sherlock, more than anything else, wants to make John happy. These two goals are not as in sync as one would think.

"Merry Christmas" I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying "I love you" by starrysummernights (E, 135,132+ w., 30/31 Ch. || WIP || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) – John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again...and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

Limitless Ocean by angel-loving-star (M, 150,730+ w., 21/36 Ch. || WIP || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, John's PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Sherlock Whump, Alcohol Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Fluff, Parentlock, Coming Out, Nightmares, Panic / Anxiety Attacks, Dissociation, Alternating POV, Suicidal Ideation, Self-Harm Ideation, Internalized Homophobia, Closeted John, Angst, Insomnia, Domestics, Cuddling / Snuggling, Gay Sherlock) – Sherlock is recovering from the Culverton Smith case. But there are some things that time or body can't heal. When John and Rosie unexpectedly move back in 221B the day after Sherlock's birthday, nothing is as it used to be. Both he and John are treading on thin ice. It is only a matter of time until the first cracks appear. Until they begin to sink into the freezing waters of the ocean beneath, and are forced to face their demons, each other, and what has been lurking in the dark for far, far too long. Until it is only them, the promise of sky above the surface, and the limitless ocean flooding into their hearts.

The Chemist by TheGracefulBlueCat (M, 158,385 w., 46/? Ch. || WiP || TLD Fix-It, Drug Use and Withdrawal, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Protective Mycroft, Sick Sherlock, Medical Procedures, Grief/Mourning, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, Victorian Sherlock, Asperger’s Sherlock, Sherlock Is Not Okay, Papa Lestrade, Drunkenness, Autistic Sherlock, Synesthesia, Insecure Sherlock, Angst, Sick Fic, Case Fic, Asylums) – Sherlock returns to Baker Street and faces detox. But he feels too exhausted and bad to go through it fully conscious, so he - once more - uses his mind palace to distract him with an old case. But due to his drug issues and the tension between him and John things don’t work as smoothly as everyone hoped they would, confronting Sherlock and all his friends with more of their demons than they would have liked to.

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #long post #tld fics #aftermath of tld fics #my fic recs

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if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi · 11 months ago

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Disclaimer: I do not own any Planet Puto Character - Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto.This might or might not be a self insert, please don't come for me.

A/N: Am I insane and out of my mind? Yes. Was I in the middle of a creativity block and just pulled this world building shit out of thin air? Also yes.

~Royalty! AU~ INTRODUCTION

"That one looks half decent..."

Lakan smirked as he pointed into you using the sharp end of his sword, not caring if you're already trembling. Is it because of the fear? or maybe it's from being on your knees on the snowy ground with nothing but thin and tattered clothes for god knows how long, you don't really know at this point.

The military general leans down to your level hand grabbing your cheeks roughly and forcing you to look up at him.

"Tell me, peasant. What entertaining stuff can you do? Careful about your answer, your life depends on it." His voice, although very soft and playful has that menacing tone that didn't fail to give you goosebumps.

The ground was cold and the air was thick— filled with cries for mercy as Lakan's troops destroy and slaughter whatever they lay eyes on.

"I- I can play instruments and write poetry, Sir." You stuttered as your voice get struck in your throat.

"We're taking this one home." Lakan grinned at your response before letting go of your face.

"This will do for Maliksi's birthday present. Now let's pack up before the enemy's reinforcements arrive. Just set fire to everything then let's call it a day."

The servants looked at you somberly as you were dragged out of the carriage and into the palace gates, the soldiers handling you roughly. You can't blame them, after all you are nothing but a peasant from the losing side of this wretched war. These people are the ruthless victors, their hands soaked with the blood of your fellow civilians that unfortunately got caught in the middle of slaughter.

"Lakan, what is the meaning of this?" A firm voice caught your attention but you kept your head lowered on the ground.

Makisig quickly motioned towards his courtesans to help you stand up as he walked towards Lakan.

"Oh, if it isn't my own brother, the King." Lakan tauntingly said as he bowed slightly. He's always despised the idea of Makisig ascending to the throne despite being younger than him.

That position was meant for him, yet here he is, reduced to being the general who spends more time outside the palace walls instead of seating on that fancy throne he's always dreamt of.

"Cut it out! What are you doing? You do know that the enemies already called defeat and you can't be taking in anymore war prisoners!"

"Prisoner? That one was a present for our youngest brother."

"A present?! Our brother is nothing like you! He won't enjoy such fatuity—"

"And? Who does he take after then? Everyone here knows that the young prince isn't soft like you! Hell, I bet he'll be a better king than you!"

Makisig's royal guards quickly drew blade and pointed it at the general. They will not stand for any slander against the King. It is a crime of treason afterall and will be punishable by death. The King sighed, "Lower your blades! He's still my brother."

Lakan softly chuckled as he turned to walk away. "See? I told you. Soft. Please have your courtesans clean up and dress that girl, then take her to my room. I'll deliver her myself to Maliksi."

You shivered at the first touch of cold water into your skin as the royal courtesans started giving you a bath. You've literally been in crossfire and to say that you are filthy is an understatement. You didn't even know how Lakan was able to spot you amongst the civilians.

No one was talking, probably out of pity for you and what you went through— your kingdom just lost the war, your town was burnt to a crisp, you watched the others getting killed infront of you. You are someone who lost everything.

After your bath, they dressed you up in a fine dress, probably too grand from what you were expecting, and then they proceeded to put your curly hair up in a bun using an intricate pin.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you can't help but admire your reflection. Funny what a bath and some fancy fabric can do.

"You look pretty." One of the courtesans whispered as she gave you a kind smile. All of them looked hopeful and sweet, probably wishing you good fate inside the very walls of this palace just like them. They all lined up as they silently lead you to Lakan's quarters.

"Bring her in and leave." Lakan said from the inside of the room before the royal courtesans can even knock. They did just that but before they finally close the door, they looked at each other before giving you a reassuring nod.

As soon as the doors closed, the royal courtesans raced towards Maliksi's quarters. He wasn't the friendliest towards them, and they will surely be yelled at for disturbing him at this time, but they all know Lakan and the poor fate every other lady went through after spending time alone with him in his quarters. They cannot just do nothing after sending you to your possible doom.

Lakan's room is dark yet you can feel his stares boring a hole to your very being. "Guess I was right, you do look good."

The general smirked as he slowly walked towards you. "A poet and a musician doesn't have a right to look this good. It'll be such a waste to just give you to my youngest brother afterall." He softly said, his hot breath fanning into your neck as he leans in while his hand reaches out to slightly slide the dress down and reveal your left shoulder.

"Maybe I should get a taste first, before giving you to Maliksi."

You grabbed fistfuls into your dress as you held yourself from talking back or trying fighting him off— you knew this man would not hesitate in killing you if you do something as much as turn down his advances.

You can feel warm tears form and trickle down your cheeks, knowing that you can't ask him to stop if you wanted to live.

"I don't accept leftovers, brother. It's rude to gift someone stuff that you already used." A cold voice emerged from the shadows as you felt being snatched from Lakan's grip and being pulled as someone held you gently by your waist.

"Gods! Maliksi, can you stop doing that?! I know that you're the only one blessed with magic among us but just stop popping out of the shadows, it creeps me out. Can't you use a fucking door like a normal person?"

"It's called teleportation magic. I didn't popped out of the shadows, your room is just as dark as your soul. Anyway, you boldly declared this lady as a present for me earlier and I have eyewitnesses. I came here to pick her up." Maliksi nonchalantly said as he rolled his eyes, still holding you close to him.

"It's those courtesans...I knew it! If it weren't for the King's protection, I would've already cut their heads off." Lakan muttered underneath his breath while he gritted his teeth. "Aaaww, come on, brother! Can't we share just this once—"

Maliksi's expression hardened as he looked Lakan up and down. You can feel just how intimidating this man is despite him being shorter than the general.

"I believe we already established that since we were kids....That if you try touching what's mine, I'll be burning your fingers off." The young prince coldly said, his grip on your waist slightly tightening.

Lakan chuckled as he slowly backed away. He wasn't irritated at how his youngest brother is acting— oh, this is so much better than him being a big pretentious softy just like the King.

"As you wish, brother." The general smiled, everything is going according to his plan afterall.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Hi! Welcome to the Royalty! Au that involves Planet Puto (philmytcrea au) characters. I do not own them, they are HC's Original Characters.

Please follow and support them here: https://www.tumblr.com/ask-emilz-de-philz / @ask-emilz-de-philz

I wanted to take time to clarify that this is fiction on fiction.

Yes, Lakan, Makisig, and Maliksi are brothers in this AU.

Yes, we hab King! Makisig here.

Lakan is the oldest, but Makisig was the one who ascended to the throne after their father died.

Yes, there is an ongoing war and Y/N (You/ Reader) is from the enemy kingdom who just declared Loss/ Defeat against Makisig's Kingdom.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND APPRECIATING WHAT I WRITE! ;;

#planet puto #planetputo #philmytcrea #rp tamawo #maliksithetamawo #rp maliksi #rp makisig #rp lakan

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swallowedbyfandom · 8 months ago

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Whites Gentlemen Club has seen many drunken fools but this may be the first time they have witnessed a drunk Lord start a bar brawl over erotic bird poetry. Well originally many thought it a bizarre erotic poem about a bird. The second to last line however made it clear, they were hearing an erotic poem about Miss Penelope Featherington.

To the curiosity of all the gentlemen in the club that evening the once refined Lord Debling was completely foxed. He had begun his night alone drinking in reflective silence. After several drinks a few of the more daring Lords asked why he was drinking so heavily.

Lord Debling half a bottle of brandy down, bemoaned his offenses against Miss Featherington. He lamented over her ending their courtship. How he has let her down. How he had made her beautiful oceanic eyes cloud with disappointment. Debling listed her attributes with a passion many had not believed he possessed for anything other than nature.

Lord Delvin questioned how the young Miss remained single if she was so very charming.

Without further prompting Lord Debling now three quarters of a bottle down began his fervent monologue.

"Her wretched mama made my beloved enter the marriage mart at 16. Can you believe it? She was still half a child at that age. Of course my Penelope opted to be a wallflower. Even now she is uncomfortable speaking with gentlemen she does not know. How could she not be? Her family has no patriarch, she must tread among the gentleman of the ton carefully. That's what the Bridgerton boy was for. He would advise what gentlemen were safe."

"She is a sweet and shy at first. So kind a lady is she. Then she is fierce,funny, clever, and mischievous. How I adore her. She would be the perfect wife. She told me she was not really for marriage until this very season, now that she is 19. "

He sighs wistfully,"She smells of honeysuckle and her wrist felt like silk. She is built like a renaissance painting of old. All lush feminine curves and flawless creamy complexion."

"Now she shuns me and will not accepting my marriage proposal. I practically had to beg her to get her to keep the engagement ring. It will look remarkable on her dainty hand."

To the delight of all present, Benedict Bridgerton was also very drunk. He slammed his glass down on the table.

"Enough! I will not listen to this again. I will not be subjected to this. I came here to drink in peace. Not to listen to another besotted fool list the wonders of Penelope Featherington. Good Lord! I just poured my baby brother into bed after she denied his marriage proposal twice."

"Also I demand you take your ring back! My almost sister will not wear some store brought abomination! She shall wear a Bridgerton family heirloom ring on her hand."

The disheveled Lord Debling stood up outraged and turned to Benedict before they began to argue.

"How dare that, that child propose to my Penelope! He has not even courted her! Does he not still live with his mother? What could he offer Miss Featherington that I could not? The gall."

"I shall go to her garden at once to recite the poetry I have written for her until she falls in love with me. Yes, that is a capital idea. Miss Featherington loves poetry."

Many a Lord debated breaking up the dispute but it was entirely too entertaining.

"You will leave my future sister alone. Penelope Featherington has practically been a Bridgerton since girlhood. We called dibs! She shall be Mrs. Colin Bridgerton before the year is out. Colin may have been slow on the uptake but my family isn't going to let just anybody steal her from us."

Lord Fife jumps in because he is a shit stirrer of the highest order.

"Perhaps you will let us hear your poem first, Debling. So we can tell you if it is good enough for Miss Featherington."

That is how every patron of Whites gets to witness the calamity that quickly devolved into fisticuffs, that night. It is a story that spreads to every household in the ton and the commons by mid morning.

Proudly Lord Debling recites.

"sweet dove, gentle dove

Were you to accept my love

to lay a kiss upon your ivory breast

Allow me to caress your downy crest

To make you coo my sweet Penelope

Until you have had your fill of me"

Benedict Bridgerton's face contorts with rage as he sputters indignantly at Debling's audacity.

"Shut your deviant mouth about my sister! I..I.. Penelope Featherington is a gently bred lady and my brother's future wife. I shall not tolerate such vulgarity about her."

Of course seeing Debling's lack of remorse Benedict loses his temper and takes a swing at Debling. That is all it takes to start the largest bar brawl society has ever seen. It is a free for all, no less than 25 gentlemen end their night with torn clothing and blacken eyes. A good ten end their night with broken knuckle bones.

All the gentlemen leave that night wondering what it is about Penelope Featherington that has made the two most eligible gentleman out in society proposed to her. What is it about her that has the Bridgerton family so possessive over her?

Even more whisper of how Miss Featherington felt neither would be a viable husband. What kind of gentleman would it take to secure her hand in marriage?

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #unhinged penelope featherington #bridgerton s3 #polin #penelope x colin #unhinged colin bridgerton #alfred debling

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waterdeep-weavemoss · 3 months ago

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Death and the Huntress

Kinktober day 6. Astarion x Tav. Song is De Selby by Hozier.

The door opens in a flurry of snow, a stooped figure ducking into the shop. Doe looks up from the sofa in the corner to see the most beautiful man she'd ever seen; white curls settled with snow, a deep burgundy wool coat, black scarf that could have only been cashmere. His fine pale hands ruffle the flakes from his hair, and he moves to the counter where he quietly orders a coffee.

Doe goes back to her book, determined not to peek at the handsome stranger. Her coffee steams gently on the scrubbed wooden table and she picks it up, tucking the fingers of her other hand against the spine of her book. She takes a warming sip, humming happily, and watches the snow drifting past the window. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the handsome stranger cast his gaze around the room, and then settle.

On her.

Skin prickling with awareness, she sets down the coffee, picks up the book. He's slinking over...

'Excuse me, darling,' he says, in what she can only describe as a purr. 'Would you mind terribly? I'm afraid those frightfully uncomfortable chairs won't do.'

'Oh,' she says, cursing inwardly at her breathlessness. 'Feel free.'

'Thank you.' He settles gracefully onto the sofa, leaving a seat between them. 'Ah, a poetry connoisseur I see. The archives of Evereska hold such beauty in their depths...' he sighs wistfully.

'They really do. I think my favourite is-'

'Wait,' he holds up a hand, mouth pulling into a conspiratorial smirk. 'Let me guess.'

'Oh.' She feels a blush creep into her cheeks. 'Okay then.'

He watches her thoughtfully, hand on his chin, then recites:

'A wretched moon hangs o'er this night the chill and dark a stark sharp thrill of blood, an intimate dread sight the knowing gaze, surrendered will out in the snowdrifts and the trees the huntress seeks renewed purpose off in the distance something flees the deadly strike, the pretty rose

her hands of red drip in the gloom death stalks toward her, in her thrall to take her where the flowers bloom make this poor creature lose it all;

among blackthorns and leaves of yew still lie her bones, that he once knew.'

He finishes reciting, his red eyes glittering as they watch her blush creep from cheeks to neck.

'Beautiful,' she says. 'And correct. How did you know...?'

'I'm very good,' his voice is low. Sultry.

Her heart stutters in her chest.

'Hey,' says the proprietor, sharp. His hands are on his hips, disapproving, blond hair in a bun on the top of his head. 'Take that shit elsewhere, you'll scare people away.'

The white-haired stranger narrows his eyes, a feline expression of displeasure. 'Excuse me, my sweet.' He rises, and she can't help but track his movements; smoothly, he walks up to, and then around, the counter.

'What the hell- sir you can't just go behind the counter like that, I'm going to have to ask you to-'

'But I'm hungry,' he says sweetly. And then his hand catches in the man's hair, pulls his head back, sinks sharp teeth into his neck. Doe freezes, feeling cold panic sweep through her.

If I run, he'll catch me.

She watches him drink, watches the blond man sag and then collapse, dead on the floor. The stranger wipes his mouth delicately with a napkin and transfixes her with a stare. There is a pretty flush to his skin, his lips rosy.

'Apologies,' he says, crossing to turn the shop sign to closed, turning the lock. 'For the disturbance.'

'I- you just-'

'Don't fret, love. I won't hurt you. You're far too pretty, it would be such a waste. And we were just getting to know each other.'

'Yes,' she breathed.

He just killed a man. I should be terrified.

'My name's Astarion,' he says. 'And you, pretty thing?'

'Doe.'

'Adorable.'

'I-'

He smiles, beguiling and gentle. 'I know. But I've been tracking that bastard for a while, and... well. Unfortunately you got in the way.'

He's lying.

'So, Doe...' he returns to his seat, leaning towards her. 'Are you as sweet as you look?' he tilts his head, curls his fingers into the hair at the base of her neck, and crushes their lips together. She can taste blood and coffee on his tongue, briefly thinks there must be something deeply wrong with her because she has no urge to pull away. 'Hmmm,' he pulls away slowly, dragging her lip.

Warmth pools in her belly. He removes his coat and scarf, setting them on the back of the seat.

What are you doing?!

'May I?'

She finds herself nodding, shame coiling in her gut. 'Don't hurt me.'

'Never.'

He covers her body with his own; she tries not to think about what someone would see if they looked in the window, simply accepts his hungry kisses. He frees himself with one hand, lifts her skirt around her hips and sheathes himself with one clean thrust inside her; he covers her mouth as she screams. This feral creature above her sucks bruises into her neck, growling his approval at her whimpers.

'I'm going to take you home,' he breathes into her ear. 'And make you mine. Over and over again...'

Death incarnate and the huntress. A single encounter, and she was lost.

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

@femmefuck @spooky-lil-bee

#astarion x tav #doestarion #astarion smut #kinktober #mine

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sendhearthhome · 9 months ago

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Zuko and Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

“The who's who of who's that? / Is poised for the attack / But my bare hands paved their paths / You don't get to tell me about sad / If you wanted me dead, you should've just said / Nothing makes me feel more alive / So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street / Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream / Who's afraid of little old me? / You should be”

This whole first chunk, to me, is Zuko confronting Ozai in Book 3 episode 11 The Day of the Black Sun Pt 2

“The scandal was contained”

Book 1 E12 The Storm, Zuko’s crew thought Zuko had been burned in a training accident, not by his own father

“The bullet had just grazed”

Within the theme of abuse, Ozai and Azula minimise the abuse Zuko endured, Ozai just 'grazed' Zuko’s face

“At all costs, keep your good name / You don't get to tell me you feel bad”

Ozai keeps his reputation, while Zuko is banished to spend over 3 years trying to get his honour back (which he never truly lost)

“Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke / Then we could all just laugh until I cry / So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street / Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream / Who's afraid of little old me?”

“I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean”

Zuko was a gentle child, but Ozai thought he was too soft. The circus life can connect to the pageantry and brutality of the Fire Nation Empire

“Don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth”

In Book 2, when he’s a refugee, Zuko feels humiliated and powerless, having gone from a prince to a ‘nobody’, his shame critically culminates here in Ba Sing Se

“Who's afraid of little old me? / Well, you should be (you should be) / So tell me everything is not about me / But what if it is?”

“Then say they didn't do it to hurt me / But what if they did?”

Ozai burned Zuko to “teach him respect” but really, it was just abuse

“I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me / You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me”

These two lines truly encapsulate the rage of realising how fucked up your childhood was only once you’re out of it. You couldn’t see it when you were in it but you survived hell, and now that you understand that, you’re so fucking angry

“So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs / I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all say? / That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn / That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong / Putting narcotics into all of my songs / And that's why you're still singing along”

People have preconceived notions about Zuko: he’s spoiled, selfish, and volatile. While these are areas where Zuko has genuine growth in the series, it is important to remember that they’re used by adults in the Fire Nation (ex. Ozai and Zhao) to discredit and demean him

“So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street / Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream / Who's afraid of little old me? / I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean / Don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth / Who's afraid of little old me? / Well, you should be (you should be)”

“'Cause you lured me / And you hurt me / And you taught me / You caged me and then you called me crazy / I am what I am 'cause you trained me”

Zuko’s autonomy and free will are really what led him to join the Gaang. He realises he never deserved Ozai’s abuse, never lost his honour, and his actions are his own.

But you can’t deny the poetry of ‘you created the thing that destroyed you in the end’

“So who's afraid of me? / Who's afraid of little old me? / Who's afraid of little old me?”

I lowkey want to write a zuko-centric song fic...

Let me know what you think and if you interpret the song differently!! <3

#zuko #prince zuko #atla #avatar #taylor swift #atla zuko #hearthhomeposts #Spotify

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th3-0bjectivist · 2 months ago

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Chipper and Romi, A Love Story (and page update w/ Springin’ Chip)

Heya Tumblr folks, its page mascot Springin’ Chip here, and its autumn! And I’m in loooooove. Met a young woman. Her name is Romi. Young love is painful, folks. It’s supposed to teach you lessons that’ll help you adjust as an adult. And let me tell ya, there’s lots of pain in this relationship! So far, Romi and I enjoy playfully fighting in the park, late-night sleepovers, and deep talks about our future and the nature of the universe. It’s good to find something positive in 2024! I hope you had little specs of happiness this year as well. ANYWAYS, onto the brief page update.

So, folks, we’re going to be taking election week entirely off, maybe two weeks. When we get back, we’ll have three more songs to post and a few more paintings/drawings in 24’. Why take election week off you ask?? Well, primarily because partisan politics completely ruined Tumblr this year. It literally sucked all the fun out of everything and turned some usually normal people who we follow(ed) into shrieking, insufferable, irrational, pants-shitting dipshits. There’s nothing more useless than keyboard activism, and when we log in to Tumblr, we’re mostly looking for something that helps us mentally escape the harsh reality we’re living in. I mean, folks, as a dog, I really couldn't care less how you vote. What you do in the voting booth, just like in your bed, is none of my damn business. I followed your blog because I think you create exceptional art, or take excellent pictures, or generate excellent poetry, or make quality sounds, or because you have some hidden X factor, or because I think you’re a goddamned bona fide genius. I do NOT come to Tumblr for politics for several reasons, but mostly because… no one on here is a political expert and I’d rather not know how you vote at all. I’d rather you keep me guessing at how you vote and keep that to yourself. If for no other reason, because your politics matter to you, and I appreciate a bit of mystique.

Th3-0 wants me to tell you he early voted in North Carolina today. He said it was easy; he showed up early, he’d done his research beforehand, so he knew how he wanted to vote, it took like ten minutes. It was like, zip-zip-zip. The people at the voting site were friendly, the ballot process was streamlined. You don’t need to know how th3-0bjectivist votes. All you need to do is stop telling others how to vote and go out and vote. If you’re with friends or family that haven’t voted, tell them, “Okay c’mon! We’re all gonna go vote now!” Stop whining, stop whinging, and just go and vote folks. These last six months have been exhausting and demoralizing for the entire US. And if your side loses, learn how to lose with grace. Don’t let them see you sweat and think to yourself; what did my side do wrong to lose this election!?

Depending on the seismic reaction after the election, it could be up to two weeks until this blog is back up folks. Just please, grip fast to your mental health, hold your nose, and treat each other with respect. This year has been crazy enough. There’s no need to get crazier. th3-0bjectivist’s blog will be back for about two months and then after that we’re gonna take a LONGASS break from this platform to recover from the wretched, traumatizing, ass-ramming partisan shitstorm that was 24’.

Alt-links below in case you miss th3-0.

Stop bitchin' and just vote, Springin’ Chip

*****

The 0bjectivist on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2sONH8IwzL_2sZie0ZNSnw/

I’m also on BitChute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/uvKfJpNkzkIL/

FULL ART GALLERY on Instagram at: https://www.instagram.com/th3_0bjectivist_gallery/ <—- This just in, Instagram is for selfie-takers and living-my-best lifers! Delete your account early, just like early voting! We deleted our account this year, and we don't miss it!

FULL ART GALLERY on DeviantArt at: https://www.deviantart.com/th3-0bjectivist/gallery

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autumn-mythos · 2 months ago

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AZAKIEL OF MALKHUT'S DIARY - 2 3/4 MONTHS BEFORE THE "POWER OF VIRTUE" INCIDENT.

Note: The Uncanny Valley police department was not able to remove the owner's drawings or her glitter pen for the sake of preservation.

That, and we don't really want to get rid of it. Captain porkchop thinks it's funny.

Dearest diary,

FOR MY EYES ONLY!

Working the bar was so fucking annoying good fucking LORD.

Ex-Mayor Megatron or whatever came in again. Every word that twink speaks is like a knife to the eardrum. I don't CARE that you're lonely! I really, really don't care! He was the only other person in the bar, too, so I couldn't serve anyone else...

He holds the same wretched vibe Percy had when I first met them. Like ohh my god you're not a suave fast-talking sex machine, you're going to go home and eat cereal without any milk and watch looney tunes under a pile of Wyvern Ball cosplay shirts that your girlfriend bought you! Fuck OFF!

I miss Percy.

Except this fucking condom failure probably doesn't have a nerdy human girlfriend!

He doesn't deserve anything like that! He's fucking stupid! He just. He doesn't deserve it.

I think I'm projecting. My therapist told me to stop that.

Anyway this fucking twat bursts in, COMPLETELY interrupting my flow, I was in the middle of writing my poetry, talking about a "Wonderful idea" he had. Something something Infinite Virtue or whatever. Buddy. Pal. The only reason you want to talk to me is because I'm being paid to be nice to you. PLEASE just order a drink and start sobbing in the corner about your woes.

This guy is making me miss train wizard. And that guy was the fucking worst! Would never shut the fuck up! I would talk to them all day if it meant not talking to this fucking guy.

Oh shit! I can work on poetry now that I'm home.

The sorrow you've left me in Is like

Nevermind, I'm shit at this. I should try different hobbies. Maybe fishing. I'll try fishing. This tortured poet thing isn't working out right now.

Note to self: Get a pen that Naobi didn't buy for you like two years ago while you're out getting a fishing rod. Or maybe a spear? Spears are cooler. Buy a spear. For fishing. Don't use the spear for anything else.

Yeah bye

#power of virtue

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catws-anniversary · 9 months ago

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Here are the creations for Day 6! Thanks to all the creators! 🦅

THEME: SAM WILSON

when do we start? by @howliesbarnes [fanfic, g, sam wilson, steve rogers]

Delated scene by @buckys-wintersoldier [fanfic, t, anthony mackie, reader insert, actor rpf]

have you ever known what it's like to feel the exhilaration of really flying by @gyokujyn [remix, sam wilson]

oops sorry maria by @gyokujyn [remix, sam wilson, maria hill]

Sam Wilson by @whinysteve [gifset, sam wilson, steve rogers]

Prompt: The Department of Veteran Affairs

Daily Battle by @nekoannie-chan [fanfic, t, steve rogers]

Soulmates, Partners, Wing-men by @unlifeira [fanfic, t, sam wilson, steve rogers]

For Reasons Wretched and Divine (Ch.6) by @mandyyvibes [fanfic, m, polyamory]

the graveyard of our memories by @gyokujyn [remix, sam wilson]

Prompt: Wings

I never said pilot by @metalbvcky [gifset, sam wilson]

Wings by @burnin-brighter [fanart, sam wilson]

c'mon sam it was one time by @gyokujyn [remix, sam wilson, bucky barnes]

Verses for Winter (Day 6) by @between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place [poetry, sam wilson, steve rogers]

Wings by @ace-bucket [fanart, sam wilson]

Bird Fly From the Road, and Quickly! by @vostok3-ka [poetry, bucky barnes]

Prompt: "I never said 'pilot'"

"I never said 'pilot'" by @stuckyfingers [fanart, sam wilson]

Prompt: Favorite Sam Quote

extra virgin by @gyokujyn [remix, sam wilson, brock rumlow]

Prompt: Music

I'm ready to make it, don't care what the weather by @vivelarevolution13 [fanart, sam wilson]

Prompt: Partners

Inseparable on schoolyard and battlefield (Day 6) by @voylitscope [fanfic, sam wilson, steve rogers]

Other works

untitled by @srdonix [fanart, bucky barnes]

We're Gonna Run, Nothing Can Stop Us by @mythicalmxyhem [fanfic, t, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, bucky barnes]

For the very first time (Ch.3) by @late-to-the-party-81 [fanfic, e, sam/natasha]

For the Very First Time (Ch.4) by @late-to-the-party-81 [fanfic, e, steve/natasha]

all our mausoleums have eyes by @gyokujyn [remix, steve/bucky]

#catws10 #ca:tws anniversary #fandom events #participant reblog #ca:tws #catws10 masterlist #sam wilson #march 31 prompts

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chryso-poeia · 4 months ago

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On This the 100th Anniversary of the Sinking of the Titanic, We Reconsider the Buoyancy of the Human Heart

By Laura Lamb Brown-Lavolie from Alight: Best-Loved Poems from the 2013 Women of the World Poetry Slam.

”What’s wrong? Titanic asked me this morning, when she found me lying on the ocean floor with all my suitcases strewn open.

Oh, I dunno, I moaned. I was looking through National Geographic and saw some pictures of you, and thought I might come have a chat. You looked great, by the way, in the pictures.

Me? No. Titanic smiled. If anything I seem to have become a Picasso. And I have a beard.

It was true; she looked more like a collage of a ship. Strangely two-dimensional, in a crater of her own making: French doors, boilers, railings every which way. And she did have a bit of a beard-rust icicles hanging in red strands from her iron engines.

Sitting up in my own little crater, I sort-of blushed.

To be honest, I told Titanic, My honey’s leaving town soon and I’m afraid it’s gonna wreck me, so I dove down here.

Well come on in, Titanic said, but I’m not sure I’ve got what you’re looking for.

So in I climbed, through a window between two rust stalactites, and began to pace her great promenade. (Which should have been awesome, by the way — walking by the ghosts of all those waving handkerchiefs — except that I was in that feeling-sorry-for-yourself state where every hallway is the hallway of your own wretched mind, every ghost your own ghost, so I didn’t take a good look around.)

When I got to the Turkish baths, I sat on the edge of a barnacled tub and watched weird crabs scrabble at my feet.

I was hoping you’d teach me how to sink, I said. You who have spent a century underwater with 1500 skeletons in your chest.

I don’t know, said Titanic, I’m kind of a wreck.

Exactly! I said, Me too! I’m here to apprentice myself to wreckage. I’m here to apprentice myself to you! Great bearded lady, gargantuan ark, you floating hotel. With enough ballrooms in you to dance with everyone I’ve ever loved.

My heart has an iceberg with its name on it, I told Titanic, so I need your advice. Tell me, did you see the iceberg coming?

I did, Titanic said.

And you sailed right into it?

It was love, Titanic said.

And the band just kept playing? And the captain stayed at the wheel? What did it feel like to swallow seawater? Tell me, Titanic, how did it feel?

It felt like a hole in my side and then it felt like plummeting face first into the ice-cold ocean.

She’s a straight talker, the Titanic.

Alright, I said. Now let’s talk about rust. When my love leaves, I’m planning to weep stalactites from my chin. I will wear my sadness in long strands. Like you, I will be bearded by it.

Then I made a terrible noise. Eeeeeeeeeeeerkkkkkkkkkk! I’ve been practicing the sound of wrenching metal, I told her, from when my love leaves.

But you aren’t made of metal. Titanic said to me.

I’m a writer, I said, I can be made of anything.

Well then, be a writer. She said.

Be a writer? I paused, anemones between my toes. Okay. When my love leaves. I will start with SOS. I will Morse code odes as the whole world goes vertical. I will write nosedives as my torso splits in two.

And the next day I will write the stunned headlines, and the next day I will write the obituaries, and the next day I will write furious accusations, and the next day I will write lawsuits, and the next day I will write confessions of wrongdoing, and the next day I will write pardons, but I won’t really mean it, and the next day I will write sonnets, but they won’t fit the schema, and the next day I will write pleas, please, please come back. The next day I will write epitaphs, navigation maps, warnings for future generations about the hubris of human love. I will write quotas and queries and quizzes, I will write nonsense, I will write nonsense, I will write nonsense all the way down and no diving teams will find me, no robot arms will retrieve me in pieces, never will I be reassembled in plain air. No, I will remain whole, two miles down, with my suitcases strewn open, and in 100 years I will still be writing about this feeling, though my heart be a Picasso, though my heart be bearded at the bottom of the sea.

The Titanic let me cry for a while, my sobs echoing off her moldy mosaics.

Then she said: Girl, you’re too young for a beard like this. You’re never gonna get some if you rust over now.

I sniffled a little and scratched my name into the green slime of the tub.

The trouble with you humans is that you are so concerned with staying afloat. Go ahead, be gouged open by love. Gulp that saltwater, sink beneath the waves. You’re not a boat, you can go under and come up again, with those big old lungs of yours, those hard kicking legs.

And your heart, she said, that gargantuan ark, that floating hotel. Call it Unsinkable, though it is sinkable. Embark, embark.

There are enough ballrooms in you to dance with everyone you’ll ever love.

That’s what the Titanic told me this morning, me, lying next to her on the ocean floor.

There are enough ballrooms in you.”

#Laura Lamb Brown-Lavoie #poetry #one of the greatest if not the greatest poem ever written #I felt worse today than in a long time and that’s when i pull out this poem #it’s just so beautiful

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dandy-dog · 11 months ago

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📌🌈🐶☀️

★ SOLAR - 24 YEARS OLD - QUEER - POLYAM - CLOSED - AUTISTIC - GNC TRANS GUY - ALTERHUMAN - WHITE - BRITISH - HE / IT ★

Hey there! My name's Cody, but I generally tend to go by Solar, Ray or Sunny online. That said, you can call me pretty much whatever you want. I'm not too picky. I'm a hobbyist artist, occasional writer and professional dog who's had the misfortune of being on this miserable hellsite (do people still call Tumblr that?) since 2014. I was around before then, but I didn't make an account until that point. My blog isn't strictly NSFW, but I do reblog posts with dirty humour and references to sex. So if you're a minor or someone who doesn't want to see that kind of thing? I wouldn't recommend following me. Want to know more about me or about this blog? You can find more info under the cut! ✌️

The dividers in this post were made by @chocoperrito and you can find them here! ❤

》 WHAT'S THIS BLOG ABOUT, DOG MAN?

I'm glad you asked! This is my main blog so it's generally just a mish mash of all sorts. Anything and everything pertaining to my interests goes here, it's a total free-for-all. That said, you can mostly expect reblogs about queer topics, political and social issues, different media that I like, shitposts and furry art. Lots and lots of furry art. I may occasionally post my own art here and possibly my own writing in the future if I feel confident enough.

》 WHAT ARE YOU INTERESTED IN?

I am, in fact, a human person with nuance so you can argue that no matter how many things I tell you that I like? None of this will even come close to conveying the full spectrum of who I am, so please keep that in mind. I'm more than my interests. That said, it doesn't mean I can't at least give you an idea of the things I enjoy so to name a few things offhandedly: I really enjoy art, writing, reading, poetry, photography, filmmaking, animation, cartoons, video games, RPGs, 3D platformers, visual novels, folk punk music, ska music, 80 and 90s visual aesthetics, bright colours, primary colours, breakfast foods, thrifting, kitsch, antiques, tacky button-ups, animatronics, toy restoration, early 2000s internet, xenofiction, medieval fantasy, lost media, queer history, TV history, film history, furry history (namely the funny animal era and 2000s era), cooking, horror movies, folklore, cryptids, musicals, storytelling, worldbuilding, history, psychology, archaeology, zoology, etymology and space!

》 WHAT MEDIA DO YOU LIKE?

I like a lot of different media and the ones I actively choose to engage with fluctuates pretty frequently, but currently the ones of note are... Pokémon, Warriors, Watership Down, Animal Crossing, The Lion King, Ginga Nagareboshi Gin, Beastars, The Legend of Zelda, Bugsnax, Banjo Kazooie, Viva Pinata, Spyro, Crash Bandicoot, Sonic The Hedgehog, Zero Escape, Ace Attorney, Another Code, Welcome To Nightvale, Little Shop Of Horrors, Ride The Cyclone, Starkid, Be More Chill, Heathers, Cats, Waitress, In The Heights, Silent Hill, Resident Evil, A Nightmare On Elm Street, Child's Play, The Gregory Horror Show, The Owl House, Steven Universe, Portal, Half Life, TF2, HLVRAI, What We Do In The Shadows, Our Flag Means Death, Interview With The Vampire, Doctor Who, Red Dwarf, Scott Pilgrim, Sam And Max, The Good Place, Gravity Falls, My Little Pony, Night In The Woods, Slay The Princess, Dragon Age, Fable and Good Omens! Hyperfixations are bolded, because like it or not I am autistic and that does affect which of these wretched things will get a stranglehold on my attention at any given time 👍

》 YOU'RE QUEER? WHAT ARE YOUR LABELS?

I'm a gender non-conforming trans man. I go by he/him and it/its pronouns and I mostly use masculine terms (man, dude, guy, etc.) or non-gendered ambiguous terms (thing, mutt, dog, etc.) to refer to myself. That said, all this does vary whenever I feel like it and I've got no intentions of trying to mirror cis men. I see myself as a man in the same way Bugs Bunny is a man, masculine in theory but pretty malleable in practice. A man but tilted a bit too much to the left so it doesn't quite fit on the "pallatable for cis people" gender shelf.

My gender is pretty intertwined with my non-human identity; All genders feel like a costume but ambiguously fruity man is the most comfortable one for me personally. I'm a vaguely man-shaped dog thing that's just trying to resemble a person above all else, if we're being entirely honest here.

I use the labels pansexual and queer pretty interchangeably. Gender doesn't really play a part in who I'm attracted to, it's pretty irrelevant and just kind of a neat bonus more than anything. That said? Overall I'm predominantly attracted to other queer people! I do class myself as acchillean because of my attraction to other men but in a non-committal handwave kind of way, considering how weird my relationship with my own gender currently is.

I consider myself as polyamorous. I can comfortably exist in both monogamous and polyamorous relationships but between the two? Up to now I've found the latter is my preference.

Also, I know I don't owe anyone an explanation about my identity. I'm talking about this because I'd like to (queer expression is fun to talk about yippeeee) and not because I feel obligated to. People aren't owed your life story, especially people on the internet ✌️

》 DO YOU HAVE A BYF / DNI?

No, I don't have a DNI. I've come to realise that the culture surrounding DNI lists in online spaces isn't healthy and I'd far rather just curate my own spaces however I feel like it! Not that I wasn't doing that before now but given that? A DNI feels like an unnecessary step that just serves to perpetuate that culture which I don't want to do. The block button exists to be used, I block people wherever I need to for the sake of my own comfort and I recommend you do the same 🤷 That said: I'm a queer neurodivergent leftist. So I have the exact kind of opinions you'd probably expect with those descriptors in mind. All good faith identities are valid, any kind of queer exclusion is bad, bigotry towards any marginalised group is bad. Fascism and capitalism are both poison, cringe culture is dead, do what you want forever so long as it's not hurting anything or anyone and everyone deserves kindness unless they themselves don't show it. Truly some never before heard takes here on Tumblr dot com.

》 WHAT ABOUT A TAGLIST?

Not yet, but I'm slowly working on it. In the meantime? Here's what you mainly need to know. You can find my talking and general shitposts under solar talks, or my art under dog draws. I do have content warning tags! I try to be conscientious and tag anything that I know is a common trigger for people (blood, gore, bones, bright colours, insects, etc) as and where I can. I format all of my content warning tags as "cw //" and then whatever the content of the post is that needs tagged. So for example, if you don't want to see insects? You can blacklist them on my blog using cw // insects and that should stop you from seeing anything with a number of legs you aren't comfortable with. This same format applies to all of my content warning tags. If there's anything more specific you need tagged? Don't be afraid to let me know. I'm happy to accommodate you wherever you need so long as it doesn't infringe upon my right to exist; If it's something that triggers you? Then it warrants being taken seriously.

》 WHO'S THE GUY IN YOUR ICON?

That would be my fursona, Circuit! He is me, I am him, I love showing him off to people so although the art may change? He's usually the face of my online pressence. Here's his current (slightly outdated, whoops) reference sheet that I made for him:

If you're curious, the art of him I have as my Tumblr icon currently (as of February 4th 2024) was a commission I got and is drawn by Pawtastic!

》 WOW, YOU TALK A LOT.

Sure do bud. Thank you for noticing! Want to hear me talk more? Then I have some sideblogs you can check out if you feel like it. fuzzypath is my Warriors sideblog (active) funky-fella is my Bugsnax sideblog (semi-active) canid-canon is my writing sideblog (WIP, inactive) I also have a NSFW sideblog dedicated to outright hornyposting, but respectfully I'm not sharing that here. If for whatever reason you'd like to see that? PM me privately to ask for it and if you're both 18+ (have your age clearly stated somewhere on your blog) and someone I trust to see it then I'll most likely give it to you!

#pinned post #long post #solar talks #first time making a pinned post so here's hoping this works

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