#you will not feel alone forever

[glikozi]

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Suspirium - Thom York

[heartorbit]

so when's the wxs phantom of the opera set

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Christmas time engagement with Quinn, yeah? Something to make me feel less #foreveralone or whatever

#foreveralonesquad

Gold-coloured holiday lights reflected off the dark water of the bay like diamonds scattered against black velvet. The distant sound of several Christmas songs played from storefronts in the distance. All around downtown Vancouver, laughter could be heard as the city bustled with last minute shopping and dinner plans. It was a magical time of the year, the last fleeting moments of Christmas Eve right before everything shut down.

Quinn had three days off before the season resumed pace as usual on Friday. You had spent the day with your family in Vancouver, before Quinn and yourself would catch a flight to Florida in the early hours of the morning. The day had been wonderful! You helped your mom in the kitchen like you always had, while Quinn and your father talked hockey and the outlook of the Canucks for the playoffs. Your own personal Hallmark movie, that was what today had felt like.

The goodbyes had been hard but then you remembered it would be harder for Quinn in the coming days. You were fortunate enough to have your family outside the city proper, but his were thousands of mile away. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like, but you were appreciative that he had given up some of his rare time off to spend the day with your family instead of catching a flight the night before. There was also another agenda, that Quinn had, that involved needing to spend the day with your family: he wanted the permission from your father to ask for your hand in marriage.

He was an old-fashioned, hopeless romantic at times and this was one of those instances where it was almost necessary. He couldn't picture doing it any other way and thankfully your father appreciated the respect the young man had shown in asking him. Getting the chance to ask him had been harder than he had expected. The kitchen had butted up against the living room, in one large, open-air styled space. They could hear you and your mother just as easy as you could hear them, but just asking your father to leave the room would have been weird for Quinn to ask. He had to get creative. So, while he was having a short conversation with you about lunch, Quinn had texted your father about the idea of leaving the house on the premise of picking up something from in the city.

[Quinn: I need to talk to you about something. Can you make an excuse about us needing to leave the house?]

Your father didn't question it, and brilliantly spun the tale of Quinn and himself needing to pick up some wine that he had forgotten he had ordered. Both of you had looked at your father with mild confusion. He didn't drink wine, hated it actually, but the man probably had his reasons. So, when the two of the moved to leave, you gave Quinn a kiss goodbye as did your parents. Even after all these years, they still seemed to be in love. That was all you wanted in life; you wanted a marriage like they had.

No sooner had the car left the garage, your father turned to Quinn and asked him if everything was okay.

"Is there some kind of problem?" Your father asked.

"No, no, quite the opposite. I um, there was something I wanted to ask you, but I didn't want anyone to overhear it."

"Yeah?" He replied, eyebrow cocked in interest.

"I wanted your permission to marry your daughter."

Brakes were applied instantly, lurching the occupants forward in their seats. Quinn was wide-eyed and nervous, fearing he had said the wrong thing. He was now pained with regret.

"Are you serious?"

Quinn swallowed hard, his brows knitted making his face look more troubled than usual. "I am, yes."

In an instant, your father busts into a wide smile and laughter. "My god, that's great to hear! I always knew you were a good one, Quinn! Shit, you had me nervous there for a minute!"

The car returned to its forward momentum; Quinn sighed a full-bodied sigh of relief. "That makes two of us," he said, fighting a wave of dizziness.

"You're a good match, the two of you. I'm happy she found you, Quinn, truly. She loves you like no other. I would be happy to give you my blessing. When were you thinking of asking her?"

"I was hoping tonight before we left the city."

"Perfect! Since she was a teenager, I swear she's dreamed of a Christmas engagement," your father laughed, shaking his head over the fairy-tale moment that was being orchestrated. "This is just…wow. I'm at a loss for words!"

Dinner had been wonderful: full of laughter, embarrassing childhood stories, and new memories to be recounted years from now. Now, however, it was time to get ready to head to the airport and travel the eight hours south. Your parents had given you each a hug, and your mother both a kiss before finally letting you leave. Your waves goodbye continued until you left the driveway.

"That was nice," Quinn said, holding your hand as he drove.

"It was! Thank you for wanting to go!" You reply, turning in your seat to look at him. He always made you smile: from his brown curls, to that sly little smile he had grown accustomed to.

"I have somewhere I want to take you, before we get to the airport."

This strikes you as odd. "Are you sure we have time?"

"Oh yeah, it's fine." He brings your hand to his mouth for a kiss which makes you blush. "It will be worth it."

There was an area of the bay that was absolutely dripping in golden lights; strung from every lamppost for as far as the eye could see. With your hand still in his, the two of you began walking beneath the lighted glow of the numerous archways beside the waterway. There was a slight breeze but the temperature was mild enough and no rain. In fact, it had tried snowing a couple times that day but had ended moments later. White Christmas' were rare in Vancouver, it was just the nature of the region.

"Are you warm enough?" Quinn asked, checking in after a few minutes into the night air, he was fussing with the ring box in his coat pocket. It was like he had to reassure himself that it was still in his possession.

"Mhm, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Before waiting for your answer, Quinn let go of your hand and put his arm around your waist, pulling you in close. Your head found his shoulder, and your arms around his waist in a compromise. Still you walked, unsure just where he was taking you. You tried to stay in the moment but the looming stress about catching a late-night holiday flight was still lurking in your mind.

In the distance, there was a garden gazebo, absolutely ablaze with light. It looked so beautiful against the dark backdrop of the bay. You found your feet being steered in its direction, Quinn placing a kiss to your temple.

"Here, sit down a moment," he spoke, taking a seat beside you. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me this year. For being with me through all my ups and downs, the playoffs, my moods, and my injuries. You've been my everything. You've kept me grounded and my feet going forward."

You smile, letting him talk without interrupting him.

"I owe you so much. You've been with me through the celebrations and the tears and there's no one else I'd have rather had by my side but you."

You watch him smile, as he shifts his weight, and before you can react he's on one knee, the black ring box in his fingers. "There's no one else I'd rather ask: will you marry me?"

Hands cover your mouth as you gasp. Of course, you had hoped he would have one day asked for your hand, but you hadn't dreamed it would be today. A fanciful daydream, sure, but you tried not to get ahead of yourself.

"Oh, Quinny! Absolutely! Yes~"

He's grinning ear-to-ear, putting the stunning diamond on your finger. As soon as it's placed you grab his face for a kiss, the warmth of his skin soothing your cold fingers. Minutes could have passed before you two parted ways but it didn't matter. Never, in your life, could you remember being so happy.

"You'll want for nothing with me," he whispers, your foreheads touching, lost in each other's eyes.

"I never have," you reply, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

"Only happy tears, okay?" He asks, kissing each and every one of them away.

"Only happy ones."

"I love you," Quinn smiles, holding your face in his hands.

"I love you. I love you so much!"

Moments pass, just exchanging sweet little promises to each other before Quinn remembers the night isn't over yet.

"Come on, sweetheart, lets get you warmed back up. I don't want you to get chilled." Another kiss is placed on your lips, one you could tell he didn't want to end. "We've got a flight to catch."

"Quinn?" You sniffle as he stands to his feet.

"Hmm? Something wrong?"

"No, nothing. I just… thank you, for everything."

"Sweetheart, you don't need to thank me for anything. I'd give you the stars if I could reach them."

[dykedvonte]

I think any fix-it mouthwashing au has to have the mandatory scenes of Curly either being able to blink again or speaking for the first time.

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[blitzwhore]

Stolitz, and their fear of rejection and sense of worthlessness turning into a self-fulfilled prophecy.

Blitz—

Does anybody love you, Blitzo? / No.

Eventually everyone goes...

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress. It's nothing... You know. It's nothing else.

I'm going to die alone, aren't I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste.

Royal demons don't give a shit about guys like us. They're all the fucking same.

Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you. You make that really clear all the time.

But you don't want to do things alone, Blitzo.

I mean, Stolas is just a loud, thirsty bitch who loves feeling the thrill of being dicked by the lower class. It's a novelty to him.

And then he'll call me and try to see how my day was, and he'll pretend to care about me, and comment on my photos, and laugh at my jokes... /Oh well that's definitely your clue right there that it's all bullshit / I know, right?!

It's all my fault. I'd hate me too. I mean, I do hate—

You're going to die alone. You're gonna die alone, Blitzo.

[My worst fear has come true. He couldn't possibly want me. This has to be a joke. He's selfish and an asshole, just like the rest of them. He's trying to get rid of me; that's the only explanation. I'm just a broken toy he's finally gotten bored of, just like I knew would happen. He won't even fight for me, and why would he? I could never be good enough for him. It's happening again. I'm being abandoned by someone I care about. I really am going to die alone.]

Stolas—

Would he want me if he was free? And if he's only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me?

I mite b bsuy / I wouldn't want to bother you!

You see... I seem to have found myself with, um. Feelings for him. And I'm not sure if it's a mutual thing.

Dearest, I know better now, I must give you this choice.

I'll save us both before we grow cold.

What's between you and I? Just a comfortable lie.

I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy...

He deserves the choice to stay or go.

So I'll grant you this mercy, this bind on our souls needs to end...

Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie's? / Y? / I'm sorry! Nevermind, it's not a big deal.

What's left for me and my broken heart if I cannot have you? Unless it's me, and no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough to get through the walls you've conjured up to live...

I'll believe him, and not the voice that says I'm not enough.

I'll fucking die alone if this goes bad!

[My worst fear has come true. I truly am not worthy of being loved. He's rejecting me— no, mocking me for even thinking he could ever want to be with me if he didn't need my book. I've been taking advantage of him all this time, all the while believing we had something real and being naive enough to think he could love me back. I am a monster. And now that he can, he has chosen to leave me. So now the least I can do is quietly let him—the only person I have ever wanted and felt alive with—go. I really am going to die alone.]

[elitadream]

A welcome back surprise. We missed you ✨

OMG???

I AM SCREAMING!!!!!

[bonicedemandarina]

Glorimas malleus be upon ye

Also, here's my yuusona! / Yuu oc? Yuu...idk but basically my version of Yuu. Hopefully I'll make a proper intro post for her soon

Anyways, I wanted to make something for glorimas since it came to the en server so here it is!

Click for better quality

[n1ghtwr1ter]

At the end of my latest TLT reread and it’s been physically painful attempting to read the last 40+ pages of Nona. Like, the short shrift that Gideon/Kiriona gets given by the people in the story…the theoretical good guys who honestly only see her as a thing, as a means to an end with an inconvenient dead soul attached to it… It makes me want to rip my own heart out of my chest.

Nobody has cared about Gideon her whole life. Most people, in fact, if they remembered about her at all, went out of their way to tell her how much they wished she didn’t exist. In the final chapters of Gideon, she finally gets the thing she’s been desperate for her whole life: somebody telling her that they need her, they care that she exists, and they badly want her to go on doing it. This allows her to make peace with the prospect that at the ripe old age of 18, she needs to die so that that person can go on living and living and living, using the castrated remnants of her soul as fuel to do so. Not a great way to go, but at least Gideon would get to be useful to somebody, would get to be remembered for something.

And then she wakes up in the wrong body, and finds out that her sacrifice - her attempt to be useful in the most selfless way possible, in that her self will no longer exist - has been rejected. And not only that, but the person she tried to give herself to - the one who was supposed to care about her - went to extreme lengths to make completely sure that she no longer remembered about Gideon.

She literally cut Gideon out of her brain.

And now, drifting along in the worst sort of half life where she’s inhabiting her body but it’s no longer really hers, in very obvious fashion - there’s holes in it, her heart is missing, and it’s got her shitty father’s handprints all over it (not even touching how much of a violation that is), indelibly - she finally meets back up with the small group of people who could theoretically be relied upon to be glad to see her again.

But then the one who was supposed to care about her most tries to kiss her (massively OOC for Harrow), and turns out to not even be there - it’s some weird baby inhabiting her body, and doing a really shit job of it too. The rest of them won’t stop talking about how they need her to break into the Tomb - as if she was just another key, same as the ones they worked together to acquire in Canaan House, just bigger and more inconvenient - and/or how they both fucked and killed her mom, who also (surprise, surprise) wished that Gideon had never existed, but saw her as a thing that needed to be done for the good of the mission.

Ultimately, they all make it abundantly clear - Palamedes, Camilla, Pyrrha, and especially Nona, all these people who are supposed to be kind and good and right - that they would prefer she wasn’t there. That it just be her body, with no Gideon attached - at least not Gideon the way she is now, broken and rejected and miserable. They would all far have preferred that she not have her own inconvenient thoughts and feelings and desires and impulses - that she just be inanimate and let the important people, the grown ups, get things done.

They wish she didn’t exist. Same as everybody else in her life, save one, and now she’s left wondering whether Harrow really meant it at all. Because if she did, she wouldn’t have left Gideon to Kiriona’s fate.

And honestly? Really, truly? I know everybody in the fandom loves Pal and Cam and Nona and Pyrrha, but in the end I couldn’t give less of a shit about them. They are fucking side characters, and as intriguing as Nona has been from a worldbuilding standpoint, I ultimately resent having been forced to read 400+ pages of filler bullshit about fucking side characters. I am a butch, and I’m here for my sarcastic, loving, angry, vulnerable, forgiving, and yes, inconvenient sword butch. I’m here for Gideon. But Gideon has been fridged for the last two books of the series in which she is supposed to be a, if not the, main character.

And it feels like almost nobody else in the fandom feels the same way, which, fine. I’m used to that. I’m also used to being told I’m projecting; and I’m used to being told that I’m inconvenient too, in my thoughts and my opinions and the mere fact of my existence. I spent the first eighteen years of my life being told I was inconvenient. Yet another point of overidentification with Gideon.

But in case anybody still thinks that Nona proves that Gideon was an asshole all along, think about all of the above. Think about how it would make you feel to come back from not just death but from the erasure of your existence, something you chose in order to save the life of someone you loved, and be told that you’re inconvenient. Think about how you’d feel if you’d been told all your life that it would be better for everyone if you didn’t exist. And then tell me that Kiriona isn’t in the right and that I should give a rat’s ass what happens to literally anybody else.

It’s Kiriona Hours up in this House, butches. We’ve spent long enough caring about people who would prefer we weren’t around. For once in our entire lives we were told we were important; we were told we mattered; we were told we were the main character. We were going to, if not get the girl and save the world, at least get to do something real, something important, something like being the hero.

But that’s over now; we’re back to being wrong and bad and inconvenient thanks to the simple fact of our existence. So it’s time to embrace it. Let’s be a little shit. Let’s be kind of a dick. Let’s have our own agenda, let’s play our cards close to our heartless chest, let’s allow our circle of empathy to contract to ourselves and maybe one more person. That’s where I’m at right now. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

[ganondoodle]

sometimes i wish i was one of those artist that make people go "this is a PAINTING???" or "with WHAT programm/medium???" but its just not what i can do or find fun :/

[princeofuchiha]

Tobirama, some time after Hashirama's death: What do you mean I have to be the inspiring one now. That's not- I mean. Fuck.

[forestgreenlesbian]

youre not allowed to b a freak loser loner anymore or at least youre not allowed to mention it lol. even like five years ago you could talk about being awkward and socially weird around meeting new people but now if you do that eveeryones like "ok edgelord you are deliberately cutting yourself off from community why are you so obsessed with being alone. you all need to go outside and make real friends you are too online." which like yes obviously but why is eveyrone acting like the only two options are you either a) have a load of friends or b) you don't want them??? it is so weird. to be seen trying & failing has become so taboo that people assume if you're alone it's because you want to be and youre trying to be cool & aloof or else you see things like small talk or reaching out to people as "emotional labour" and choose not to do them. like i am not fucking choosing not to do them i literally try to do them every day and find it very hard and then you tell me i can't even joke about that struggle or being a lonely friendless loser to maybe for one second make light of the bottomless pit of disconnect + loneliness i experience every day without someone blaming me for not putting myself out there. idk

[lucabyte]

Hey I know this is kinda stupid but ur little joke comics of siffrin having a bald spot being treated like any other sorta funny thing siffrin has going on is genuinely really affirming as a trans man who might lose his hair one day

ehh its not stupid at all. ill pull back the curtain and say that oh yeah these jokes are supposed to be lighthearted and affirming in that way so like. walk w me here

cuz thats the thing this joke works regardless of headcanon for siffrin/your own gender presentation bc like. transmasc, amab nb, transfem, intersex, hell even just pick-a-rando-off-the-street cis people worry abt going bald because it's just like. a distinct possibility. whether your testosterone is home grown or store bought its just one of the things that it can and may do.

obviously, there's ways to mitigate hair loss. transmascs especially have really good resource gathering for this, it seems? and it's very good to have the options to control your body and how you want to appear.

but that's the thing. weird uncontrollable shit happening to your body as you age is The Great Equalizer. And we'd probably all be better off if we didn't treat it so weirdly or like such a taboo. So making jokes about it the same way you would like, your back getting bad or joints getting creaky normalises it. Because it is normal, and there should be some humour in all shared experience !!!

making this joke abt Siffrin in particular is also not done without intentionality, also. like 1, as you said they already have so much shit going on that adding more is just funny to start with, 2. it makes logical sense with how stressed and deceptively old they are and 3. theyre like. a twink. they aren't particularly masculine (especially owing to the fact that, canonically, they don't consider themselves a man.) and people really do not see balding as anything other than hyper-masculine. so it can cause a lot of perception issues if you want to be seen as... literally anything else. ie. genderless, feminine, or just femme? So it stops people from depicting characters who aren't hyper masculine as balding at all/worse still makes people irl feel ashamed if they Are balding but don't want to be that level of masc. But it shouldn't be that way, because it's not like your genetic response to T (and stress..) cares what either society presently thinks Or what your personal sense of style is. And y'know. just in general. it's cruel to be judgemental about things beyond ones control.

... This is a lot of words for "thank god. im so glad drawing this twink balding is making people feel better because i hope everyone knows i'm not making this joke in meanspiritedness" now go forth and like. be fine with being bald someday. it happens to the best of us

[melit0n]

Give me five whole minutes.

Credits: Me

[angelmush]

starting to feel my enjoyment of cooking seeping back in after a long period of intense burnout that had me really slogging along preparing meals with gritted teeth for a good month there. i credit the return of this spark to the much needed break i took on our 3 day vacation that resulted in us eating solely theme park food. while delicious, in all its greasy overpriced glory, i found myself missing the kitchen. so last night for dinner i made heavily spiced chicken wings with crushed peppercorns and garam masala that rendered slowly in its own fat while roasting in the oven, resulting in flavorful charred crisp skin and a really juicy bite. we picked them clean over steamed rice with lime and scallions. i also baked a loaf of marbled pumpkin and dark chocolate bread yesterday for my neighbor as a thank you for doing me a favor last week. it looked delicious. the crumb was tender and plush and velvety, the spiced ginger molasses pumpkin batter swirling alongside the bitter dark chocolate espresso batter, with puddles of dark chocolate bubbling across its top. it looked so lovely i whipped up a second one for us to have for ourselves that's in the oven now, i think it could be a really good breakfast pastry for us this week.