#will never get over it until it's resolved

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

A Cut Above

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader AU: Butcher Simon

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, nervous Simon, reader loves food, domestic vibes, minor language. Authors Note: I loved adding more heartfelt details to this one! Thank you for inspiring such a sweet story. 💜 Masterlist Part 2 MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The little bell above the shop door jingled softly, its cheerful chime breaking the stillness of the late afternoon. Simon Riley instinctively glanced up from the butcher counter, a habit he’d developed over years of working behind it. But the moment he saw you step inside, his heart did something it rarely did—flutter.

You were a sight for sore eyes, as usual. Bundled in your favorite coat, a knitted scarf loosely draped around your neck, you brought a warmth into the shop that rivaled the heating system.

“Afternoon, Simon,” you greeted, your voice soft yet sunny.

“Afternoon,” Simon replied, his usual gruff tone carrying a faint gentleness he reserved just for you.

You made your way to the counter, your eyes scanning the neatly displayed cuts of meat. “You’ve outdone yourself with the arrangement again,” you teased, pointing to the precisely stacked rows of steaks and chops.

Simon huffed a quiet chuckle. “Gotta make it look good for the customers.”

“Oh, come on,” you said with a grin. “You know I’m not just any customer.”

Simon swallowed hard, his gaze flickering away for a moment. You had no idea how true that was.

“What can I get you today?” he asked, focusing on the task at hand to steady himself.

“I feel like trying something different,” you mused, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “What do you recommend?”

Simon considered your question, his brows furrowing slightly as he pondered. “Got some lamb chops in this morning. Fresh, tender. Thought about taking a couple home myself.”

“Sold,” you said, your smile lighting up the room. “I’ll take two.”

As Simon wrapped them carefully, his large hands moved with practiced precision. He found himself lingering over the task, not quite ready for your visit to end.

When you handed him the cash, your fingers brushed his—a fleeting touch that sent warmth spreading up his arm. You didn’t seem to notice, but Simon? He was certain he’d never forget it.

Simon couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started, but you’d become the highlight of his week. He’d catch himself glancing at the clock in the late afternoons, hoping for the telltale jingle of the bell that meant you’d arrived.

He started setting aside little things he thought you might like—an extra-thick cut of steak, a special seasoning blend, even a handwritten recipe for the perfect roast. Each offering was met with your delighted smile and effusive thanks, and each time, Simon felt his resolve to keep his feelings to himself falter just a little more.

Until one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the shop stood quiet save for the hum of the fridge, Simon decided to take a chance.

“You’ve got a knack for cooking,” he said, his voice steady despite the nervous energy coiled tight in his chest.

“Thanks,” you replied, your surprise evident but not unkind. “I’ve had plenty of practice. Why do you ask?”

Simon cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Thought maybe… you’d let me cook for you sometime. If you’d like.”

For a moment, the shop felt impossibly still. Simon’s heart pounded in his ears, every second of your silence stretching into an eternity.

Then, you smiled. Not just any smile—the kind that crinkled the corners of your eyes and made his chest ache in the best way.

“I’d love that, Simon,” you said, your voice warm and sincere.

----

When you arrived at Simon’s flat, you were met with a comforting warmth and the rich, savory scent of cooking. Simon greeted you at the door, his usual black apron swapped for a crisp button-down that suited him more than he realized.

“Come in,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Hope you’re hungry.”

The dining nook was modest but charming, a small table set with candles and a simple bouquet of fresh flowers.

“This is beautiful,” you said, touched by the effort.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his ears. “Figured you deserved somethin’ nice.”

In the kitchen, Simon moved with quiet confidence, his hands deftly handling the stovetop as he plated braised lamb chops and roasted vegetables. He poured you a glass of wine, his hand brushing yours as he set it down.

Dinner was nothing short of incredible. Each bite was a revelation, the flavors perfectly balanced and cooked with care.

“This is amazing, Simon,” you said between bites. “You’ve got serious talent.”

“Just glad you like it,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer than usual.

The conversation flowed as easily as the wine, Simon opening up in ways he never had before. He told you about his childhood, his dry humor catching you off guard and making you laugh until your cheeks ached.

When the meal was over, Simon disappeared into the kitchen and returned with dessert—shortbread cookies he’d baked himself.

“These are perfect,” you said, savoring the buttery sweetness. “You remembered I mentioned these, didn’t you?”

Simon shrugged, his blush returning. “Might’ve stuck in my head.”

As the night stretched on, the two of you found yourselves on the sofa, a blanket draped over your shoulders as you talked for hours. For the first time in a long while, Simon felt a deep, unshakable contentment.

When it was time to say goodbye, he walked you to your car, his hand lingering on yours as you climbed inside.

“Thank you for tonight, Simon,” you said, your voice soft. “It was perfect.”

“Goodnight, love,” he murmured, his heart full as he watched you drive away.

As he turned back toward his flat, Simon couldn’t help but smile. He’d taken a chance, and it had been worth every nerve-wracking second.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

Part 2

[kdollikesthighs]

Take what you want and go: part 1

Itzy Ryujin x m reader This part is all fluff, no smut here yet. Later parts will have smut, so stick around for that? I'm starting projects and working on them piece by piece. If I don't post them, I end up revising them ad infinitum. Word count: 1,664 words.

This isn’t your usual Friday night. Music pumping loud, a relentless beat that fights against the one in your chest. The air in the club is thick with sweat, perfume, alcohol and disgusting desperation. Some of those stenches belonging to you. People grinding into each other like they’re trying to forget something. Or Everything. You’re not here to forget, though. Not tonight.

You’ve been working the same old fashioned for an hour now. You’re not here to get wasted. Your eyes are skimming the room, catching glimpses of silhouettes. Shadows dance, giving way to partially revealed faces, none of them familiar— Until they are.

Ryujin.

She’s standing on the edge of the dance floor, her light skin reflecting against her dark clothes. She’s dressed in a black waving top that drapes over her matching black shorts, clinging to her like they were made for her body, a faint sheen of sweat glinting on her exposed abdomen under the neon lights. Her hair falls in sharp, intentional waves, and her lips curl into a smirk as she tilts her head towards someone leaning too fucking close. 

It’s been weeks since you last saw her. Weeks since she walked out of your apartment and left you staring at a closed door. You tried getting over her. So far, no success. Seeing her now, with that same effortless confidence and thrilling presence… it was no wonder you kept failing.

She hasn’t noticed you yet, or maybe she has and just doesn’t care. Her attention is on the person next to her. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You’re not here to intervene. You’re just here to see her, to remind yourself you're better off without her.

At least, that’s the lie you keep repeating to yourself. If you repeat it enough, you might end up believing it.

When Ryujin finally does look your way, it feels like the music is going on mute. Her eyes lock on yours, and for a single moment, the chaos of the club seems to fade into nothingness. Her smile drops, just barely, before returning to its original state, this time sharper. Calculated.

You know what’s happening. You should look away. You should finish your drink, leave the club, and never come back. But you don’t. You can’t.

Her dancefloor parasite says something, and Ryujin laughs. But her gaze keeps flicking back to yours, a challenge in her expression. “You’re here, aren’t you? Are you going to come to me, or are you going to keep pretending you don’t care?”

You’re hesitant, but her eyes always spur you on toward things you can’t control. You’re pushing through the crowd, the music getting louder and more obnoxious with each step to the dancefloor. Lifting your feet gets harder and harder as you close the distance between you and her.

When you’re finally close enough to appreciate the way her clothes are hugging her curves, she turns to face you fully, dismissing her companion with a clear gesture. They linger for a moment before disappearing back into the crowd, leaving the two of you standing face to face.

“Well, well,” Ryujin says, her voice smooth and teasing, clearly lying. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

She’s already getting on your nerves. She left, why is she being so casual? You should be screaming at eachother. Somehow, you manage to keep your calm. “Didn’t think you’d be here either.”

She shrugs, leaning against a nearby pillar with the kind of casual grace that always made her feel untouchable. “Seems you don’t know me that well after all.”

There’s a challenge in her words now. You’ve fallen for it too many times before. She’s baiting you, testing your resolve, and you hate that it’s working.

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” you say, glancing toward the dance floor where her companion disappeared. The words come out sharper than you intended, but you don’t take them back.

Ryujin arches an eyebrow, her lips transforming into an amused smile. “Jealous?”

“No,” you lie. A bit too quickly. You can’t even convince yourself.

She steps closer, the space in between you gradually disappearing. You can smell the faint trace of her perfume. It’s familiar. It’s the one she used to wear when she was desperate for a night of fucking you.

“You sure about that?” she asks, her voice dropping low, her mouth getting closer to your ear as the words exit her mouth and enter your brain.

You don’t answer. You can’t. For a moment, you let yourself take her in—the sharp line of her jaw, the glint of mischief in her eyes. She’s everything you’ve been trying to forget, and seeing her now, you can’t help but want her back.

Your next words lack conviction. As if not daring to say it to her, but talking to yourself about her. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say finally.

Her smile softens, just barely, and you see something vulnerable in her expression. But then it’s gone, as quickly as it appeared.

“Neither should you.”

“I missed you,” she says suddenly, the words low enough that you almost don’t catch them.

For a second, you wonder if she means it, or if it’s just another game. But the look in her eyes—the way they soften, just slightly—tells you it’s real. It feels mean, her admitting something like this. Spiteful.

You missed her too. You want to say it too. You want to reach out, pull her close, and forget about everything that’s been keeping you apart. It’s impossible.

Instead, you take a step back, the weight of her words settling heavy in your chest. “You don’t get to say that,” you struggle to accuse her.

Ryujin straightens facing you, vengeance painting her smirk. “Maybe not,” she says, her tone rich with defiance. “But I said it anyway.”

Does she want you to laugh? To cry? She’s always been like this… unapologetic, reckless, and impossible to pin down. It’s what drew you to her in the first place. That’s what makes her so damn hard to let go of. It’s… unhealthy.

“Enjoy your night, Ryujin,” you say, turning around and getting ready to move.

But before you can take even a single step, her hand catches your wrist, her grip firm like she can’t allow herself to let you leave. “Wait,” she says, her voice pleading. “Don’t go.”

You freeze. You want to run. You want to stay. You're torn between the two. You can’t help but turn back to her, against better judgement. There’s something in her eyes you can’t ignore. You could never ignore. It’s enough to make your resolve crumble.

“What is it?” you ask. There’s concern, but a hint of apprehension strains your voice.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she comes closer. Her hand brushes against your wrist again, lingering as though she’s unsure whether to pull you back or let you go. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, she looks like she’s struggling to find the words.

“Why do you make this so hard?” she murmurs. You can barely hear the exact words, but you understand their meaning.

You blink, caught off guard. Was this a joke? “Me?”

Her lips pressed together, forming a tiny thin line, and she shakes her head, exhaling a sharp sigh. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

But her hand doesn’t pull away. Her hand grips your wrist harder, a speechless contradiction to what her words were saying.

“Say it,” you inquire, her hand convincing you that you simply must know. The frustration she’s causing you impossible to ignore. “Whatever it is you’re trying so hard not to say, just spit it out, Ryujin.”

“You think you’re the only one who’s tired of this?” she says, biting back at your demands. “Of this endless back and forth? Like you’re the only one who’s hurting?”

Before you can even respond, she lets go of your wrist and takes a step back, the distance between you growing for the first time.

“You could’ve walked away a long time ago if you wanted to,” she continues, her tone colder now, defensive. “But you didn’t. So don’t stand there acting like this is all on me.”

“Ryujin—”

“No.” She cuts you off, her gaze narrowing down on you. “You keep showing up. Every single time. And then you get angry at me when I don’t give you what you want.”

Your jaw clenches at her provocations, her words pushing the exact buttons you’d hoped to avoid. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it?” she counters back to you, crossing her arms. For a moment, she looks like she’s about to say more, but then she takes a deep breath and shakes her head. Her voice softens a little, like she’s tired. “You can’t have it both ways. You don’t get to act like you care and then walk away whenever I get messy.”

You feel like you’re about to boil over, but you subdue it. “And what about you? You keep pulling me back in just to push me away again. What do you even want from me, Ryujin?”

Her lips part, and she looks like she might answer. Her eyes soften, and her eyebrows turn upwards in the center. Her expression is almost vulnerable. But as soon as she catches herself, she reverts it all. Re-establishing her guard.

“Forget it,” she says abruptly, turning away. “It doesn’t matter.”

And just like that, she walks off, leaving you standing there.

You watch her disappear into the crowd, your fists clenching at your sides. She always does this—gets under your skin, says just enough to make you question everything, and then leaves before you can get any answers.

But this time feels different. You’re not the same you were weeks ago. You won’t turn away. Just storm out in the other direction like you always did. You are getting a resolution today. You are not walking away this time.

[amurderandconspiracy]

Anam Cara: Chapter 2

AO3 link

**** Neve ****

A few days passed waiting for Rook to return, Neve had read through several romance novels that had been left behind, had walked through every inch of the Lighthouse, and momentarily attempted to clean up the layers of dust that had settled over everything. The Lighthouse had been kept exactly as everyone had left it, Rook not asking the Fade to remove the rooms or items of each of the companions, seeming to hold the space for them. There was evidence that everyone had returned from time to time over the last two years and stayed here before going back to their lives and tasks in Thedas. As she paced through her circuit of the grounds, Neve stopped several times in the pantry, plagued by thoughts of Lucanis and this ongoing fiasco of the last two years.

Spite and he had come to the understanding that their separation was necessary but no amount of effort had worked. They had been through a battery of magical and ritual experiments, spanning the various traditions of magical scholarship and practice but no solution had yet presented itself. Spite had continued to be a hassling energy in their lives and while a small amount of sleep was now possible without threat of the demon taking over, this was not progressing in a way that either man nor demon could continue for much longer, their energy and spirits were starting to strain and fade. Neve put up with Spite’s regular transgressions in her time with Lucanis and his insistence upon seeking out Rook. She had tried to talk to him, tried to reason and understand what exactly it would take to get through to the possessing malignancy but Spite insisted that -she- could not free them, could not open doors. Spite had spoken of familiar feelings that lied and brought false comfort, Neve insisted that she was not doing any such thing but she also knew that whatever help she had offered to Lucanis and Spite had not progressed their healing or moved them past this stagnant waiting game, the slowly bleeding wound she could not find.

Neve knew the one person who could get through, the one Spite would listen to, the one Lucanis had once trusted enough to let in was Rook. No matter the amount of affection she showed and the comfort they both were able to enjoy together, Neve had grown weary from the constant struggle of maintaining an unequal relationship. Lucanis was plagued by burdens, he could not drop the weight of his new position. He carried on past the point of breaking to continue his focused mission of safeguarding of the Crows, Treviso, and Antiva all while warring with himself and his own inner demons, real and psychological. He had fought with himself and Spite and resolved that he would not burden anyone, especially Neve, after having seen the toll the whole Minrathous blighting and destruction of Tevinter’s government had taken on her. She was the Hope of Minrathous and his burdens would only diminish her energy. But, after a year and a half of standing by offering support where she could and trying to help encourage Lucanis’ healing, of fighting against his walls and trying to get through to him beyond a routine that felt and tasted like obligation, Neve had stepped back from their failed relationship, resuming the role of supportive and loving friend, she maintained a schedule of coffee and dinner dates so she never let Lucanis become completely lost to his duties. Finally after all of that, she checked her pride and hurt at not being enough for the task and decided she would seek out Rook, not leaving until they returned to the Lighthouse. She would plead with them to help Lucanis.

There was a part of her that had avoided getting involved in asking for Rook’s help or bringing Rook into their lives again. Some selfish corner of her heart had known that if she tried had enough, if she loved fiercely enough she would be the one to bring Lucanis out of his melancholy. But for all her trying, all her love, she and Lucanis were better as friends. Neve couldn’t deny what she knew, even in the depths of her denial, she had witnessed the sparks between Lucanis and Rook from the moment they shared in the Ossuary and at every moment they spent together, their connection and love was evident. Flirting and hints of romance aside, Lucanis and Rook had been soul friends, their trust and bond was immediate and complete. Lucanis had been hurt by Rook deciding to save Minrathous, the betrayal had stung and he shut them out for a time but he had tried to open up again. Though he could not bring himself to be vulnerable enough again to let Rook back in as deep as they had burrowed before. In a moment after a period of night terrors, Lucanis had been worn down enough to share with Neve that losing Rook to the Fade prison had almost driven he and Spite mad with grief, Lucanis had resolved with that to close himself off from Rook forever as no one should be that significant of a weakness for him ever again, as First Talon he could not afford it.

Neve knew this wouldn’t be easy, she had cut Rook off without giving them a chance to talk or even understand what was at stake. In her effort to safeguard her relationship and her happiness, she was failing Lucanis in getting him the help he needed. Just looking back at how instrumental Rook had been in getting several steps of progress for Lucanis during their missions against the gods, Neve had known they were they key. After everything facing them, Rook labored endlessly to help save Treviso and help the Crows and the people of Antiva recover. Rook sacrificed so much to regain their deep friendship with Lucanis and through it all they managed to mend the rift that had initially resulted from the Treviso decision, both giving each other the support and unfailing faith they needed to survive their ordeals.

In the meantime, to guard against falling for Rook, Lucanis had carefully tried to seek a normal life, a life that was a familiar comfort to the one he had before the Ossuary, before becoming an abomination. He kept Rook at a distance and began pursuing Neve. She had welcomed the attention and affections he gave. She had always been somewhat of a loner, someone who dwelled in a state of mistrust and their lives seemed similarly lonely, so when her romance with Lucanis had blossomed, Neve resolved to embrace a life with him. From the onset, they lived in a rapid honeymoon phase of physical and emotional bonding that lasted until the gods moved the moon and set the world into disarray. Both Lucanis and Rook stopped existing as everyone had known them. And Neve watched her hoped for future lose its luster and fall into shadow. When Rook was pulled into the gods prison, and even after the Veilguard had successfully rescued Rook from the cold and lonely jail of the Fade, Rook retreated into themself and Lucanis had done likewise. Each only existed to keep their friends afloat and bolster them in the fight, having lost themselves in the drive to end the war. And after they saved Minrathous and Thedas from the Elven gods, after the loss of Davrin and Assan, after whatever torment Rook had suffered in the Fade, Rook and Lucanis pulled apart. Rook became a ghost of their former self, they retreated from their friends’ lives seeming to abandon their connections with everyone, but if Neve was honest with herself, they had all failed Rook, the companions had been so relieved to be alive and had so many issues to tackle that they all ignored the loss of their friend’s brilliance. In their grief and trauma, everyone became desperate to return to something resembling normalcy and find home again, forgetting the one who had sacrificed everything they could give for their friends; they effectively left Rook to pick up the pieces of their life alone.

And here Neve was, she thought angry at herself, come to ask her friend to sacrifice again and help Lucanis. To open themself up to pain again. But she couldn’t waste her time admonishing herself, Lucanis needed help and if Rook was the key, she was going to get them to help.

**** Rook ****

Muscles screaming and legs heavy with days of exhaustive activity, Rook stepped through the eluvian, returning from their humanitarian efforts in Treviso for the last five days. The eerie light of the room slipped through the barely open eyelids of their exhaustion strained eyes, making them blink rapidly to clear the halos from their sight as they dragged themself across the platform and bridge. Rook registered that they were moving slowly enough that the doors had swung open fully, presenting to the waiting stairs on the other side, promising their return to secluded safety and the ability to remove themselves from anyone else.

Forming quickly to the right side of the doors, the Caretaker coalesced, folded their hands before them and said, “A visitor awaits you above.”

Rook stopped dead in their tracks, frowning, “Where is the visitor?” The ghosts of past threats seemed to whisper from the shadows and Rook drew their hands to their various weapons, preparing for an attack. Their nerves fired quickly as their mind came alive preparing, their breathing became measured, and their heart raced as adrenaline pulsed through them. They blinked their eyes once to clear their sight and reassess the room and stairwell for any loitering shadows or sense of movement above.

”They are in the dining hall, currently leaving the pantry” the Caretaker responded.

Rook’s heartbeat skipped a beat and their breathing stuttered, they lifted their head with a ghost of something like longing passing over their features before they shook their head in hurt and set their jaw, “Do you know who,” they asked.

The Caretaker intoned, stating fact, no emotion hinting that they noticed the way Rook had acted, ”The Minrathous hero who once dwelled here with you”.

Rook slowly allowed their heartbeat to return back to normal and their breathing released from their chest to allow air to more freely pass in and out of their lungs. They allowed their hands to drop away from their weapons, having frozen there at first in response to a threat but relaxing slightly as they were momentarily kicked into a different adrenaline spike. They straightened up their body and pulled at the bottom of their jacket to put it right, finishing a brief self-check by brushing their arms down their armor and shaking their head and neck to release some tension before proceeding up the stairs.

They mounted the stairs slowly and tried to pass through the hallway making as little noise as possible and hoping to slip their weapons to their room and get into clothing that didn’t stink like they had been fighting for five days straight with no breaks. They knew Neve would not approve of their self-destructive tendencies and they were pretty certain the last time Bellara had been by to visit they didn’t return to Arlathan but went to Minrathous. Probably to let Neve know Rook wasn’t taking care of themself again. They chuckled at that sourly, unpleasantly thinking about their friends carrying on their friendships and relationships without them, about the connections they still had intact while everyone who ever mattered to Rook had been lost or were all too happy to cut them out for the chance to return to normalcy. Or the deep hurt when one continued to blame them for a decision they had to make, an impossible decision that haunted them day and night and tore out their heart when that precious trust had been lost and hopes of something more had been forever severed.

For a moment they had a slight hope that it was a different companion who had come to visit, a hope that they had finally been forgiven. Rook dismissed that foolishness right away and made their way to their room and quickly shucked their armor off and depositing it in a pile to the side, they asked the Lighthouse for a basin of warm water and cloth to clean some of the grime off their body before changing into their worn Mourn Watch casuals. While they went through these steps, they shuddered from the wraith that lurked always at the edges of their mind, making them see a flash of Lucanis on the ground, a remnant of the projection Solas had conjured in the Fade to lure Rook further into the prison. The image that managed to break down their composure and let the seeds of guilt and regret fester and burst forth rooting Rook in the gods prison for several weeks. Even when they were rescued, they could not shake the images, the memories and talking to their friends was a constant reminder of their mistakes, the cost of their choices, and the loss of lives and loves.

Rook had returned physically whole but the emotional and mental toll had destroyed their center and when they had tried to speak with Lucanis, he had held a tight rein on his responses and though he held Rook as they cried their relief, it felt like a barrier kept them apart and Rook resigned themself to the final confirmation of loss they could handle. The twisting of the knife was watching the Inquisitor, a woman who had endured loss, pain, and heartache for a decade finally get what she had been longing for and for Rook to realize they would never get the happy ending they wanted or even a glimmer of it.

Now Rook steeled themself as they felt their eyes strain to hold back tears thinking that they were going to have to endure spending time talking to someone they loved deeply as their friend who was enjoying the happiness they longed for with the person they knew they would probably love forever. No getting weepy now, they thought. Have to hold it together. Neve was a beloved friend, someone Rook cherished and truly wanted in their life. They had been so glad to meet her and become her trusted companion, doing what they could to nurture that bond while they served on their missions together, but Rook wasn’t perfect and after seeing Lucanis and Neve together, Rook had erected a wall around their heart, they couldn’t ignore the hurt that existed in their spirit at wanting their friend’s lover and knowing they would never do anything to jeopardize the love and relationship of their friends or their own with each. Shaking out of their thoughts, they passed their hands over their face, scrubbing away the thoughts and feelings that waited just below the surface. Rook put on a slight smile and walked straight-backed out of their room and down the curving stairs to the main hall where Neve was sitting on the couch and waiting expectantly

[whyarewecalledtheshipname]

rambled this before but MAN that riku is paralleled to terra who's dad was so extremely aligned with Light that he basically nearly fell to darkness/evil out of his /extreme/ intolerance of it??? Eraqus who totally doesn't remind me of MoM??? GUH RRAHH

[s0fter-sin]

what up it's been 12 years and i'm still pissed there was no consequence to dean being in constant survival mode and fighting 24/7 in purgatory

what do you mean he didn't become a god at hand to hand combat? what do you mean he could still be jumped by random ass demons?

he was - at best - in a constant in-between state meaning he didn't get hungry or tired but that also means he didn’t sleep for a year and was constantly being hunted by hundreds of thousands of monsters that want to eat him specifically, while actively searching for cas

OR he was in a completely normal state meaning he was constantly fighting starvation and exhaustion while all of that was still happening!! it's not like there's much to scavenge in monster heaven!! he would’ve been on the verge of dying for a year!!!

then he comes back and he's just exactly the same? the same level of fighting skill he's always had? if not slightly worse for some reason?? what do you mean he couldn't kill anything he came across with his eyes closed when it's what he's been doing EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR???

it's always been one of the flaws of a show running for so long that after like s6 they never seemed to be getting better? they still got the shit kicked out of them by demons and ghosts and what have you and instead of finding obscure rituals they just got A Better Gun™️

both sam and dean are the peak of what hunters can be; they've been trained to hunt and kill things bigger and stronger than them since they were children, so what do you mean they still get the shit kicked out of them so often? was it just to show how strong monsters are? that even with their level of experience and skill, they're still outmatched?

(or do you just need a way to keep up the tension cough cough what who said that)

but you can't have dean who's been trained to be an elite soldier Since He Was Four Years Old go into a 360 combat scenario for an entire year - a good chunk of which he was completely by himself - then say he didn't improve his combat skills At All

and not even just combat, his senses would've been off the charts!! there was nothing but ambient forest noise and growling, his hearing would've gotten so sharp, it was darker so his night vision would ve been insane and he should've been able to feel a monster coming a mile away after constantly being on guard

post purgatory dean had the opportunity to be a completely different beast to anything we'd ever seen before, to be a completely different kind of traumatised from all of his other trauma

hell broke him but purgatory should've broken and rebuilt him into something Terrifying

[noctlas332]

day three,,,, i would have had liked to work a bit more on this but alas, that did not happen,,

[alaskan-wallflower]

how my parents feel after always reminding me how much better my older brother is than me

[immortalsins]

might have fucked up so its going on the blog

[autixel]

honestly i don't think i'm satisfied with tdp s7

[quietwingsinthesky]

i dont think millie and pre-Got Caged Again lucifer could have gotten anywhere with each other. the context of her as sam’s little sister overshadows everything there: it’s why he has no reason to harm her and every reason to treat her well, the way you’d treat a guest in your house, to prove to sam that he’s capable of that. and it’s why she spends most of the apocalypse treating lucifer specifically as a non-threat, as compared to the actual threats of demons who might not have heard the memo right, angels from heaven who Do Not care about her when getting to sam & dean, and other shit, but also as like. not a person she can communicate with in any meaningful way. he’s a concept, a force of nature, a fairy tale with rules she can understand and survive if she follows them.

post-cage 2 lucifer is a bad roommate but she can talk to him. and he actually learns who she is beyond the context of sam. you know?

[icewindandboringhorror]

I’m always paranoid of my tumblr being deleted or malfunctioning or something like that someday, so here’s other places to find me/follow me, just in case lol

~ instagram - https://www.instagram.com/lucalicatte/

~ main youtube - https://www.youtube.com/c/LucaLiCatte

~ games/sims youtube - https://www.youtube.com/@cloudycatte

~ facebook page (I rarely use this because I hate facebook but.. it at least allows text posts better than instagram does, so idk maybe I’d use it more if tumblr went away? lol) - https://www.facebook.com/cloudycatteart/

~ Other Links (stuff I don’t use often/isn’t Main enough to list here, like twitter, neopets, other tumblr sideblogs, youtube channels, etc.) are here - http://icewindandboringhorror.tumblr.com/otherlinks )

[waheedawolf]

.

[chuuyasoup]

IT JUST FUCKS ME UP INSIDE OKAY like especially bc. theyre twins theyre inextricably linked theyre inseparable they love each other so much that they hate each other theyre ready to kill each other to save each other and none of it makes any logical sense aughhhhhhhh but u still Know. u still understand

[inkskinned]

it's easier to apply for jobs than ever! so what if you lost your insurance, anyone can get a job these days, even without meds. everyone is hiring! there's a "good employee" shortage!

well you just need to revamp your resume, here's a paid app subscription that can read it for you. rewrite the cover letter they won't read. google jobs in my area and then scrawl through Monster/Indeed/worbly. did you want to save the search? this was posted 98 days ago. over 1 billion applicants! this position is trending.

jobs i actively like doing and get paid for. your search returned no results. easy-apply with HireSpin! easy apply with SparkFire! easy apply with PenisFlash! with a few short clicks, get your information stolen.

watch out! the first 98 links on google are actually scams! they're false postings. oopsie. that business isn't even hiring. that other one is closed permanently. find one that looks halfway legit, google the company and the word "careers". go to their page. scroll past brightly-lit diversity stock photo JOIN US white sans serif. we are a unique, fresh, client-focused stock value capitalism. we are committed to excellence and selling your soul on ebay. we are DRIVEN with POWER to INNOVATE our greed. yippee! our company has big values of divisive decision making, sucking our dicks, and hating work-life balances. our values are to piss in your mouth. sign here and tell us if you have gender issues so we can get ahead of the sexual harassment claim. are you hispanic although let's be real we threw out the resume when we saw your last name.

sign up to LinkHub to access updates from this company. make a HirePlus account to apply. download the PoundLink app. your account has been created, click the link we sent you in 15 minutes. upload that resume. we didn't read the resume, manually fill in the lines now. what is your expected pay grade. oh actually we want hungry people, not people driven by a salary. cut a zero off that number, buddy, this is about opportunity, and we need to be thrifty. highest level of education. autofill is glitching. here is an AI generated set of questions. what is your favorite part of our sexy, sexy company. how do you resolve conflict. will you get our company logo tattooed on your person. warning: while our CEO is guilty of wage theft, we will absolutely refuse to hire a nonviolent felon.

thank you for your interest at WEEBLIX. we actually already filled this position internally. we actually never had that posting. we actually needed you to have 9 years of experience and since you have 10 years we think it might be too many? we'll be texting you. we'll email you. we'll keep your resume. definitely absolutely we won't just completely ignore you. look at your phone, there's already a spam text from Bethany@stealyouridentity. they're hiring!

wait, did you get an interview? well that's special, aren't you lucky. out of 910 jobs you applied to, one answered, finally. and funny story! actually the position isn't exactly as advertised, we are looking for someone curious and dedicated. it's sort of more managerial. no, the pay doesn't change - you won't have any leadership title. now take this 90 minute assessment. in order to be a dog groomer, we need you to explain cell biology. in order to be a copyeditor, write a tiny dissertation about the dwindling supply of helium on the planet. answer our riddles three. great job! we just need to push this up to Tracy in HR who will send it to Rodney who is actually in charge. and then of course it's jay's decision and then greg will need to see you naked and if you survive you'll be given a drug test and a full anal examination.

and of course you'll be hungry this whole time, aren't you, months and months of the same shit. months of no insurance, no meds, no funding, barely able to afford the internet and the phone and the rent - all things you need in order to even apply for our thing. but do it again! do it again and again and again, until you flip inside out and turn into a being of pure dread!

you're not hired yet because you're lazy. there's over one million AI-generated hallucinated jobs in your area. don't worry. with zipruiter, hiring and firing is easier than ever. sign up. stay on-call.

in the meantime, little peon - why don't you just fucking suffer.

[reesestshirt]

When I was in middle school, I tried to learn how to crochet. I knew how to knit already, so I figured ‘how hard could it be’ and used my Christmas money on a brand new set of aluminum hooks and a how-to book.

To say it was difficult was an understatement. I spent hours pouring over my book, begging to gain some inkling of understanding from what felt like incomprehensible runes. My reward? One lopsided trapezoid of lumpy fabric and a resolve to never pick up a crochet hook again.

And so life went on, I finished middle school and high school without giving crochet so much as a second glance. In college, I read about how crochet couldn’t be replicated by a machine, it was unique in a way that knitting and many other fiber arts weren’t.

For Christmas last year, my girlfriend gave me what I now consider to be my most prized possession: a crocheted plush of my favorite pokemon. I raved over her skills and, since she never learned how to knit, we decided to have a yarn date at some point and teach each other our respective skills.

We never did get around to that yarn date. She passed a few months after our declaration, leaving me to inherit what was left of her yarn.

Nearly a decade after my initial attempt, I got ready for the toughest battle of my life. My weapons? One skein of yarn, a YouTube video, and a crochet hook that I had somehow never gotten rid of.

I slowly made my way through the video, redoing my work a couple times until I was satisfied with my product: a small, slightly misshapen rectangle.

I looked at my pristinely-made pokemon plush with hope for the first time in months and thought to myself, ‘maybe crocheting isn’t the hardest thing in the world, maybe you were just 12.’

Maybe this isn’t the hardest thing in the world. Maybe I’m just 21.

[housederiva]

Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)

If your Inky didn't romance anyone:

Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric

Blackwall:

My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom

Cassandra:

My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra

Cullen:

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen

Dorian:

Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian

Iron Bull

Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

Josephine:

My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

Sera:

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

Solas:

Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.