#ill get a bit sappy in the tags sorry

[astraystayyh]

it’s officially been a year since ive posted on this account 🥹🥹🥹🥹 thank you for showing me so much love and kindness in these past months, i am so immensely happy to be able to share my little fics with you here :,))) wahhh it seriously feels like ive been here all my life im feeling emotional ;;;;

&&& to celebrate!!!! im opening drabbles requests for a short time hehe any member ofc and no smut as always!! it can also be a bonus scene of a fic you liked, head cannons too (just not long fics because i wanna answer as much as i can)

i cant guarantee ill do alll requests but ill try my best! ill tell u when requests are closed again and which ones ill be answering!!! lets have funnnn 💕💕💕 thank you for your support my angels <333

#ill get a bit sappy in the tags sorry #but im seriously so happy i have this space where i can share my works #i cant thank you guys enough for reading and leaving feedback and just being so sweet to me #it seriously means the world to me #i appreciate you #every single one of you #a lot happened this year and i am very happy u were all with me through it #to more and more and more skz fics #AND MORE #eeeeeeeee #i love you #please be happy forever #and healthy #and content

[lonely-writer]

Eddie to Buck: you feel pretty warm....

Hi anon! I’m so sorry it took me nearly 4 months to get this done but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! 

Title: Burn For Me

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Warnings: Discusses mental health/therapy

Tags: Feelings realization, Oblivious Evan “Buck” Buckley, Fire fam is concerned, for all the wrong reasons, Burn out, Discussions of mental health/therapy, Bobby Nash is Evan “Buck” Buckley’s father

Buck is sick.

Just not in the coughing and sneezing way, no believe it or not he's actually sick of work. Maybe the daily routine he followed was catching up to him, weighing on him with every call they responded to as the burden of the 118's job continued to gnaw at him- his therapist suggested he was burned out but Buck refuted the idea nearly immediately, him burnt out? Impossible. He'd signed up to save lives, to experience death defying feats and every day he risked his life by running straight into fire- how did someone become burnt out from that? The more he thinks about it though the more he comes around to the idea that he's tired of being in a routine that refuses to change- something has to or he fears he'll grow restless and move on to new adventures where he won't be happy. It's not helping that recently every call is mundane; there's a cat stuck in a tree here or a car accident there- on the occasions there's a fire it's nothing serious, usually someone left a candle unattended and the curtains caught fire or the oven timer went off.

Buck hates himself for even thinking this but he'd kill for another natural disaster to hit the city, at least then he wouldn't be so bored all the time. To combat this boredom he's started reading whatever can catch his attention, a sight that the rest of the 118 joke and jab at first but ultimately become concerned about- the last time he picked up a book he was in a slump with his now ex-girlfriend Taylor, at first they brush it off- after all maybe he's just looking to pick up a new, healthy hobby for once but by the third shift he shows up with another sappy romance novel the crew grows concerned.

"Maybe he's lovesick?" Hen suggests in the kitchen, her voice a quiet whisper glancing over to where Buck sits on the couch flipping the page of his book agonizingly slow, "He hasn't been on a date since Taylor and he's walking around like a wounded puppy, same way he was when Abby left him." She points out, it's a logical guess but not the right answer as the rest of the group hums in disagreement.

"No, no he's not lovesick- or else he wouldn't be reading romance novels. Buck doesn't read when he's upset, he just mopes around until he finds someone else to chase after, Chim, has Maddie said anything about their parents lately? Have they been doing therapy together?" Bobby asks though there's a tone of annoyance to his voice- he wants Buck to have a good relationship with his parents but the distaste for how they treated their children for years is still strong in him.

"Not really, they've been around a bit more because of Jee-Yun but they talk about her and not Buck. You think he's upset because of that?" Chimney answers with a shrug.

"Maybe, but he hasn't mentioned them at all lately...no news is good news at times." Hen counters, though not outright stated she shared in their captain's disdain for the Buckley sibling's parents. "He doesn't talk much about his therapy sessions a lot though- which I'm not saying is bad or wrong, he's entitled to that privacy, but sometimes I wish he'd just tell us what's on his mind." She huffed lightly.

"Any of you consider maybe he's just actually sick and not telling us because he can 'handle it.'?" Eddie offered his gaze completely trained on Buck, there's another bout of silence between the four in the kitchen as they mull over the suggestion. It would explain the slump in his attitude, the sudden change in his demeanor, the books he brings to distract from his illness- everything made sense.

"If he's sick then why doesn't he just go home and rest? We'll be fine without him." Chimney states to which Hen jabs him in the arm lightly, "Ouch! What was that for?" He grumbles rubbing his arm.

"Since when has Buck ever enjoyed being alone? Never. If he's not hanging out with one of us then he's with his girlfriend- which he doesn't have right now, so if he's sick he'd be alone. I promise you after his breakup being alone is the last thing he wants, sick or not." Hen mutters as Buck flips yet another page.

"Well...someone needs to make sure he's alright, and no offense but it's not going to be me. I am not bringing home anything that could get Jee sick." Chimney remarks as he puts his hands up in defense, which is a fair point between the four, the last thing you'd want to do is bring home a sickness to your own child. Before anyone else can make some kind of argument against casually checking in on Buck, Eddie rounds the corner of the island to check on the other, the rest of the crew immediately begin to do their best to act as nonchalant as possible- though it's almost painfully obvious they're all listening to the conversation.

"Hey Buck." Eddie greets and before the blond can even respond he's asking the question of the day, "Are you feeling alright?" This catches the other off-guard, was he alright? Was he alright? Did he not seem alright? Was he disturbing the rest of the 118? Or was this all just some kind of joke because he was reading? Something he didn't quite often do.

"Uh..yeah? Why?" Buck asked in confusion though the answer wasn't deemed acceptable by Eddie as suddenly there was a hand pressed against his forehead, he feels flushed and embarrassed- but he doesn't know why exactly. Is he sick? No, so why is he blushing? And why is his heart racing now? Plenty of people have checked his temperature like this before and yet he's never reacted this way.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? You feel pretty warm..." Eddie states cautiously his hand never leaving Buck's forehead.Of course he's warm- he's flustered! But why? Why is he so flustered? Why is it that when Eddie specifically puts his hand against his forehead he suddenly can't think coherently and his throat becomes dry- why is it he wants to lean further into the gentle touch? Why is it that his heart begins to race- oh.

Oh.

"Yeah..yeah. I'm good." Buck says with surprising ease for someone who just came to the earth-shattering realization that he was falling in love, if not completely in love already with his best friend.

Yeah, he's just great.

#911 #my writing #my fic #Evan buck Buckley x Eddie Diaz #Buddie fic #tw: discussions of mental health #tw: discussing therapy #fire fam fic

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song." 

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention. 

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard." 

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night." 

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked. 

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking." 

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band." 

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right." 

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid. 

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring. 

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!" 

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!" 

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation. 

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover. 

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?" 

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me." 

"What does it look like?" You asked. 

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one." 

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told." 

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it." 

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned? 

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back. 

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine 

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner. 

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table. 

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this." 

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care." 

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-" 

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor. 

"It was a gift." He finished anyway. 

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head. 

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much." 

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered. 

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering." 

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me." 

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.” 

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage. 

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help? 

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition. 

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly. 

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack. 

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975 

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile. 

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you. 

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?" 

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy." 

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music. 

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush. 

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone." 

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans." 

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?" 

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side. 

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

#doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x you #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme #tw guns #tw abusive parent

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Please do tell more about team zit i love that funky trio so muchhh

okay im no expert like- there's better zit blogs out there. and this is very zed & tango based because imp & tango stream at a time i don't catch,, but some of the things i love (in addition to the tags of this post):

tango was saying in yesterday's stream that when zed visited there would be nights that zed sat/lay on the couch whilst he edited and gave input on the video. and how he wished zed was there for editing the decked out instructional video. and i just?? friends?? appreciating each other's input? and knowing what they're good at? oh my gosh?

also tangos solo stream and the interaction with zed was great. the fact zed was chilling in bed watching tango (and still funnier than he has Any right to be in the chat.) the fact he got up to join the server. the fact that tango knew he wasn't able to record at that time because it was late. how absolutely hilarious he found zed & his commitment to the bit. and this exchange, whether intentional or not:

and maybe it's being in an LDR and having mostly online friends, but them meeting up in person just makes me smile. seeing LHR in zed's video reminds me of picking my bf up too which is,,, sappy yeah. just those international friendship things like tango taking zed to stores to buy things to try & making him drive gjhgfd. how fond they sound every time they talk about those visits & videos? the fact tango plans to come to the uk next time (and to see zed's new house when he moves!) which is not easy with a family too! like! the friendship there! (on the other side, zed thanking tango & his family for making him feel welcome and like he’s part of it is 😭)

i really need to watch the rest from his other visits i've only seen bits from the first,,,

this is just a zed one but he is so expressive? watching his streams i get so caught up watching his webcam. like he moves his hands and gestures so much. his facial expressions. it's a whole language all on its own and i love it. highly recommend watching out for it.

it's seems like tango is used to zed asking for things for his skits which is super sweet

i also love some of the reoccurring things in their streams. zed losing sight of tango and going 'im lost.' (esp with decked out building.) the fact that zed is turned up a stupid amount on tango's audio deck and is still quiet jkgfs.

how willing all three of them are to help each other? even spending so much time on decked out, tango still helped zed on stuff like his nether portal. and both zed n impulse being willing to help out as much as they can with decked out and being so proud of tango for achieving it.

hopefully ill be able to watch more of imp & tango soon (and zit/zits!!) and get more things to love but this is getting way too long gkjgd sorry

#ask #anonymous #hc #tango #zed #long #long post #it's just the.... friendship vibes........ #having a friendship like theirs is a goal of mine ngl #i still can't add a read more so y'all have to deal with this rambling

[jamesvanriemsdyk]

it's loving my friends hours, folks

hi so. i hit 1.5k a bit ago and while i dont want to do a follow forever (did one for 1k, it took so fucking long), i do want to like. talk about my friends! because i love them. so here we go, time for emo hours here at james jamesvanriemsdyk dot tumblr dot com

to all of the people ive met and talked to in the past few months: i am so grateful to have met you. i am so grateful to be your friend, whether we talk every day or not, and it is such a huge fucking gift to know you and be known by you. i would give you all a little paragraph but then i would get out of control and this post would never end because i have a lot of fucking love in my heart okay??? i love yall a whole hell of a lot ( @goaliehugs​ @farfrombucky​ @andrewcogliano​ @couturriere​ @brockmcgrinn​ @boesersson​ @steadyfreddie​ @nicolasaube-kubel​ @alexvass​ @beauvilliers​ @girouxes​ )

to all the mutuals i see in my notifications a lot (and the ones i dont), the new followers and the old ones, all my super sweet anons, anyone who’s tagged a post with a lovely comment or who’s messaged me with sweet words: thank you. for just like - existing in the same timeline as me, and being wonderful, and choosing to be kind even though im a clown. i love you all a lot.

to @heckeyleague​ @iceburgh87​ and @assistantcaptainmitchmarner​ : im so grateful we still talk, if only every once in a while, and if only through streak snaps. it’s been, what, how many years? four? more? i look forward to snaps of your pets and the little glimpses of your lives i get every day. i love yall to pieces.

and here we go:

@fireworksatdawn​ : hi jayc. its, like, really hard to believe that ur essay comments on my fics led to this but - im really grateful. just, really fucking grateful. youre so kind and so loving and such a wonderful presence in my life and im so grateful that once c*vid has died down, we’ll, like. be able to see each other? fucking wild. thank you for all the fic convos and the tswift tiktoks, and the memes when im sad. i love you a ton, and im so, so glad you’re my friend. shoutout to philly as, like, a concept for giving me all the emotions i needed to write my heartbeat fics. (im still emotional about the fact that you tell me ‘its late for you, go to bed’ every time i stay up past 10pm. its the being known for me <3)

@pencilhoarders​ : my favorite flyers art witch. what an incredibly kind, talented soul you are. what a beautiful heart you have, really and truly. i love listening to you talk about your ideas and seeing your art process, and i love that your mind works like mine does, and that we really do understand each other. i love that you’re going after your dream and i know you’ll be incredible at whatever you decide to do post-grad - you’re simply too amazing not to be. thank you for sending me those anons about the canes what feels like forever ago; i am so fucking glad i get to call you my friend.

@majorpenalty​ : you are, without a doubt, one of my most favorite people ive ever met on this site. your life is fucking wild and you are so funny and kind and resilient, and i never want to not be your friend. i love losing my mind with you for five to eight hours on zoom, i love just being able to just exist with you even though we have half a country between us. you are so intelligent and strong and lovely, and you deserve every single good thing in the entire world. thank you also for sending me those wild ass anons, and for sending me all the videos of you singing trap bunny bubbles and tswift on snap (we have the yellow heart now uwu) and for just - being there and understanding. you are so brilliant and i cant fucking wait to watch you continue to grow and succeed. i love u so fuckin much.

@softgrantaire​ : hi, alex! kiss the cats and your baby for me and tell your husband i said hey. also, sorry in advance for how long and sappy this is about to be, because im already choked up thinking about it! so: i would not be the person i am today without you. its been a literal month since we became friends, but i literally have never felt more immediately loved or accepted by anyone in my life. you are, probably, the reason i felt comfortable enough to change my name in public; youre the first person i told i was deeply uncomfortable with my name and you changed it immediately, without fucking blinking, and i knew trans friends hit different, but i didnt realize how different it would hit til i met you. and its not just that, either, its the kindness and the trust and the mutual respect, and the pics and vids of jules and the cats all day, its being genuinely excited to see your name pop up on my phone screen, its the voice messages on my way home from work and its the sound of you laugh and the comfort that exists in the little space we’ve carved out for ourselves. i love being your friend, and i love that you’re my friend, and i want us to be that for a long, long time -  ill always be the nolpat to your g. i love you so fucking much, dude.

@codyglass​ : ngl, i typed your url and just like - froze, for a minute. because like. how do you talk about a friendship like this? how do you put it into words? how do you describe all of the laughter and the tears and the years we’ve had together? its the kindness for me, its the communication and comprehension for me, its the unconditional love for me. there isnt a place i feel safer than our friendship; there isnt a person on earth i love like i love you. thanks for all the late nights, all the massive fic concepts/outlines we’ll never write but always find solace in, for all the nolpats roasts, for all the hockey tears and all the real life tears too. for listening to folklore with me for the first time when it dropped, for understanding when i couldnt turn it off for weeks after, for getting the days i send you 30 messages in a row and the days i cant get out of bed. it’s so fucking insane that we’re friends, still - how fucking incredible is it that i met my best friend, who lives 1846 miles away from me, through fucking hockey of all things? youre the best gift life ever gave me, and its such a fucking blessing to be alive at the same time as you, much less to be your best friend. i love you to the moon and to saturn.

#aaaaand im crying lmao #follow forever #kinda? its loving my friends hours babey #j.txt

[struck-by-the-rain]

hiya! welcome to my silly blog

hi my name is kas! im a plant science student n i love 2 draw stuff :) i only have 1 blog so its a mix of acc nice art, silly sketches and deranged ramblings.

pretty much only rhythm heaven art because the games won't get out of my brain lmao

feel free to use my stuff as a pfp or whatever but pls credit me!

#my art - art I've actually done

#slay art - art reblogged from other ppl :)

#rambles (old tag) / #kas yapping (new tag I'm using for now on) - deranged ramblings

i draw quite a bit of sappy ship bullshit - if theres an established tag ill use it in case u dont (or do) wanna see.

if u scroll down my blog u will discover that im particularly Not Normal about space kicker x karate joe (which I tag #punch kick toe) to the point where it's like half of my art..... they r so dear to me n ive made up so much random ass lore about them which I'll one day subject everyone to. but yeag

also feel free to tag me in stuff or send asks my way or whatever,,,, i love just saying shit! if u wanna send me requests feel free as well but I can't guarantee ill do them in a timely fashion bc I keep forgetting sorry :(((

but yeah :)

#pinned

[hedgefairy]

Eeeey, we haven't had another episode of Bridgerton recaps in a while! But here we are, it's

Bridgerton, Episode 5

(if you missed the rest, the tag is #Bridgerbore)

Okay, so I dig the whole muddy hem business (short reminder, we were at this duel thing last time, and Daphne was very much a dramatic Regency heroine, throwing herself into the fire and everything), but I'm really not sure about her undies.

Lady B has a hangover, which is hilarious, and Daphne comes in like "I'm engaged", to Dukey, of course, they all annoy me so much. Cue Lady B fanning herself, and then Daphne goes on about how they want to marry NOW, because THE KISS and it would be such a scandal if that ever came out? I don't think society would mind if you stayed engaged for a while longer, I don't think anyone cares, you self-obsessed brat. Mummy thinks they had steaming hot intercourse and that's why they want to marry ASAP, and apparently that's the best hangover cure that there ist. (I'm not a fan, hangover Lady B was more sufferable than the usual version.)

The queen wears bright red gems with pink silk and it does not look fly at all.

The blue dress Daphne's wearing is pretty for once.

Her rival (CRESSIDAAAAA) and her mother smirk at each other in a carriage because they are scheming, and evil, and we can see that because they are dressed flamboyantly and have complex hairstyles. Also, Cress saw D&D kiss and now they can destroy her or something.

Oh poor Freddie Baby, he's just the cutest but he's about to take his leave because Daphne was the only girl he liked, like, ever, because she's such a diamond of the purest water, adieu, sweet prince.

Everybody keeps promenading without coats or spencers and I'm all "noooo", because it just looks so wrong. Someone give Daphne a stole or a cardigan, it's doesn't even seem particularly warm outside. Her hat also sucks (is that a fascinator? I demand bonnets!), but at least it's not the stupid Wendy bow, so I guess that's progress?

Lord B gets slammed in the face with the door by the dressmaker because Opera Girl up and left. See, Lord B, that's because you're a little bitch and she's done with your shit.

Ducktail Colin visits Cousin, and Penny desperately tries to cockblock him. It's somewhat painful to see, but also strangely realistic (I guess that's why it's painful).

Uuuh, we get a kitchen scene in preparation for the wedding! I love it. Also, the servants are annoyed by all of this, just like me. I hereby petition to replace at least 75% of the D&D (hell, make it all Bridgertons) appearances by Regency food porn.

At the dressmaker's workshop Cressida (who I still think is prettier than Daphne) bitches about and Daphne bitches back, why is no-one wearing bonnets?

The next Whistledown issue is out as Freddie takes his final bow just to leave me heartbroken because he genuinely didn't suck. The Queen bitches, what else is new.

The Archbishop says the early wedding is a no-no, and I still suspect that it's a general case of making things more dramatic than they have to be. Oh, turns out it's the Queen who's the spanner in the works because she didn't get enough attention lately.

Back to the Bohemian party! Yay! It's a fucking bacchanal and I love it. French dressmaker lady is there, too, cut to her and Middle Bridgerbro having a heated make-out session. Aaand the host is at least bi – they find out by barging in on him and his lover during what I guess is the quest for an unoccupied bedroom. Threesome time!! (Her stays are more than questionable, though)

Dukey is completely drunk in the gutter because they kicked him out of the pub. I approve. Not sure of what of the above, probably all.

Cousin plots to seduce Ducktail Colin so she can get him into marrying her. Lady F is in, but Penny eavesdrops (heartbrokenly).

Whoooo, it's George III! Him and Charlotte discuss the Regent but sadly George IV still does not feature. Another child (Amelia) is discussed – never mind that the historical George III and Charlotte had no less than fifteen children – but apparently she's dead (the historical Amelia died age 27 and it distressed George greatly, but here it is delivered as if she was just an infant.). Oh, look, George is bonkers and thinks the Queen killed her. Nice one, Netflix, treating his illness like this and then completely glossing over it again.

Daphne, please stop tossing and turning and sighing, get yourself off, it works wonders. But no, instead she goes to her lady's maid and gets a pep talk about how she can still be happy without offspring.

Cut to Dukey waking up in Boxing Bro's place.

People I'd rather have a series about. A non-exhaustive list by me.

Penny and Eloise

Eloise

Benedict & The Bohemians (could also be a good band name)

Prince Freddie

Boxing Bro and his family

Opera Girl & The French Dressmaker

Cressida the Rival Bitch

The Servants

Dukey's exploits at college

Daphne's dress at her audience is so horribly ill-fitting.

How can Dukey be a rake if he doesn't even like flirting? It it pheromones? Do the ladies simply fall over when he walks by? The heck? Someone explain! His appeal to the Queen, however, is really lovely, no shade.

The wedding is LAUGHABLY small. Nobody would ever get through with this. You can't tell me they couldn't fill a small chapel like that, at least with some staff. It is supposed to be "intimate", because you guys are Regency nobility and this will not stand. Good God, Daphne, he's putting a ring on your finger, not his body parts inside of you.

However, the reception is huge. This does not make sense, except from a very American modern standpoint. I'm here for the food porn, though.

At the party Cressida bitches about and Penny (again, desperately) tries to hook up Cousin with anyone but Ducktail Colin. Eloise is still trying to figure out who Gossip Girl really is.

Cousin Wears-Curtains-Again tries to seduce Ducktail Colin in the study, alas, he's too honourable, but wants to marry her nevertheless, but he wants to wait. She can't wait, though, because of the pregnancy thing, oh no!

The Queen is at the reception, too. You can't tell me that the woman who tried to intervene with the getting wed thing as a whole because she didn't get enough attention is okay with being at the reception and not the church? 'scuse me? What is a characterisation, even.

Turns out Lady Danbury (remember, Dukey's awesome fairy godmother) isn't Whistledown, but the Queen is intrigued by Eloise's investigations. Also, Middle Bridgerbro had a threesome with not only the Dressmaker but also his (hopefully bi, because representation, probably gay because cliché) host's wife. Awkward to meet her again on your sister's wedding day.

Daphne gets THE TALK from Lady B, whose boobs are glorious in this scene, but honestly, couldn't you have done that on any other day?

I cannot bear to watch this while I'm eating.

Is Daphne going to wear her hair up now that she's married, at least?

Sappy goodbyes ensue as Dukey and Daphney go off to their honeymoon. Her cloak looks like a bedsheet.

How is this episode not over yet?

Oh no, they'll spend their wedding night at and inn rather than at a palace. Awkward silence ensues on the ride there, but the landscape and the inn are pretty.

Man, that centre part and those bangs look so. Bad.

They have separate bedrooms, which is a bit weird but so is this whole inn business. *shrugs * Daphne paces in hers, Dukey in his, and this writer is reminded of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Drama. Ugh. Communication is key.

Here we go with the make-up sex, though, and here we also go with the soft porn my best friend already warned me ab... no fucking shift! Are these stays laced with satin ribbon?

Oh look, it's Dukey topless again. Daphne's face just annoys me to no end. I'm so sorry because she really can't do anything about it, she was born with it, but it annoys me.

Uh, Dukey butt! I have the sudden urge to burst into "First Penis" from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. They really made a song for every occasion.

Dukey, couldn't you have started with your hands? What is a foreplay? "Hey, girl, remember when I told you to get yourself off? This is basically the same!" *inserts genitals * It's fairly tastefully shot soft porn, though.

I don't think she came. How about oral now?

God, we made it into the second half of this series.

Give me strength.

This concludes Episode 5.

To Be Continued

(maybe with female orgasms?)

#Bridgerbore #Bridgerton #recap #uuugh

[crystalrequiem]

The Voice that Urged Orpheus

[Part 1/6(?)] [TRC] Summary: Kurogane tries to grapple with how attractive Fai is, fails to propose marriage, and is generally a gay disaster. 

Tags: Kuro/Fai, Canon Universe, Post-Canon,

Warnings:  suggestive thoughts (nothing graphic), overly sappy feelings, Kurogane’s unique combination of emotional intelligence and social incapability. [Part 1] - [Part 2]

Hello friends. It’s been a while since I posted Fic here. I will probably try to get this up on AO3 all in one piece? but I’m a creature that craves validation so it’s up here first piecemeal i guess.  As a hint of this thing’s intended trajectory, its joke title is “5 times Kurogane sat consumed with lust for the evening and 1 time he got to do something about it” So-- maybe eventually some citrusy content of whichever flavor... >_>

Tomoyo did this to torment him, he thinks.

Gliding through the room easy as a fish in water, the Mage makes himself at home as the life of the party. However stilted the his usual attempts at Japanese, with Mokona here to translate he runs circles around the courtiers and their linguistic games. He acts every bit the part of the charming prince he should have been in a kinder life—darting from conversation to conversation, quick with an easy smile and a cutting joke, still managing to keep a careful eye on Syaoran.

Watching Fai smile honest and free of the weight of worry still seems to Kurogane like a miracle, but it doesn’t ruin him. On its own, it doesn’t drive him to hide away on the sidelines, hand clenched tight around his artificial wrist as he struggles to keep his own thoughts in check. No. The real torture derives from the indecent spill of Fai’s hair—a delicately ornamented, flowing stream of gold that traces his pale neck down to a blue silk collar worn just a little too loose. It’s the way he moves in that thing—ridiculous sleeves so long they nearly brush the floor, but somehow he hasn’t lost an ounce of grace. It’s—

The sight of Fai in nearly any garment of Nihon would still have struck him—his traitorous, possessive mind all too willing to catch on thoughts of the mage in his clothes and in his land—but Tomoyo had gone to lengths to make it worse. The cut and drape of what she made for Fai would advertise their relationship on its own, but she’d once again seen fit to embroider the black moon at his chest. Standard for any shinobi under her command, but Fai is not, and with Kurogane’s status as it is… It’s safe to assume every single person here knows what kind of item they are. Just thinking about it is enough to drive a man to distraction.

As if on cue, the mage catches his eye across the crowd and grants him a quiet smile. For an instant, he forgets how to breathe. Fai’s stupid grin can send his heart stuttering in his chest on a good day, but looking like that—

Kurogane growls and turns away. He hopes to whatever god still listens that his face doesn’t reflect the sorts of things running through his head. The fingers wrapped around his metal wrist grip tight enough to hurt, if he’d had any nerves.

“Blue really is his color.”

He has long believed that Tomoyo possesses an extra special sense for his embarrassment.

“Did you need something, your highness?” He grits. Her bell-like peals of laughter fill the shadowed alcove at his expense.

“Who can say? Maybe I just wanted to visit with my favorite subject.” He doesn’t bother granting her a response. He’s almost glad for her distraction, however ill-intentioned it may be. At least it gives him a chance to collect himself. “How much longer do you think you can stay this time?”  Kurogane shrugs in answer.

“Same as usual. Just until the Manjuu says we need to move again. Maybe another day or two I’d guess.” He starts to relax, the heat in his veins cooling ever so slowly, until Tomoyo adds with a pout,

“Not enough time for a wedding then.”

“Princess,” he chokes, mortally affronted as she laughs harder. He tries to tune her out, but keeping his cool presents a serious challenge while he can’t help imagining…

He doesn’t know what exact moment he’d decided he needed Fai at his side always. Maybe as early as Yama? Maybe something in him knew even before that. Either way, his vision of the future rings empty without Fai there to meet it with him, whatever form that might take. Co-caretakers for the kids, battle companions, friends or paramours—whatever Fai deigns to give him, he wants. It’s only somehow in all of that… he’s never really thought about something like a wedding. He really could ask, couldn’t he? Would Fai want that?

He tunes back in to reality and finds Tomoyo staring, all quiet acceptance and expectation. She likes to tease, but in this he senses no joke. She means it—wants him to know that she does. The court in Nihon accepts male lovers easily enough, but he has never heard of a marriage between them. She means to offer him that: the possibility of tradition shattered beneath the weight of the imperial throne.

“You are my dearest and oldest friend. When your sojourn ends for good, I will make sure this is a land you want to return to.” Tomoyo flashes a gentle smile, fleeting between the narrow gap of fan and hair. “The court could use some new ways of thinking.” She murmurs as she looks away, back towards the party and the majority of the court. As usual, her political shrewdness surpasses him. He should have realized she had more reason to parade Fai about than to tease her favorite former protector.

“Princess Tomoyo, I—” He doesn’t know how to answer her, but he doesn’t get the chance to try. She only shakes her head and stares past him, her eyes locked to something over his shoulder.

“Fai! How are you finding the party?” She chirrups, holding her fan a little higher to hide her expression, which is far too self-satisfied. Kurogane freezes like a child caught sneaking sweets.

“Perfectly well, thank you, your highness.” With his thoughts running rampant, Fai’s presence burns like a brand in his awareness. He shuts his eyes and tries not to think too hard about the crescent moons embroidered starkly on that damnable outfit, or exactly what he wants them to mean.

Unfortunately Fai doesn’t understand what ails him and mistakes his attempt at control for annoyance. “Alright there, Kuro-Grumpy?” He teases, voice colored by a fleck of genuine concern as he brushes his fingers against the base of Kurogane’s neck. Tomoyo laughs at the way he stiffens. She knows exactly what she’s done and isn’t at all sorry.

“I’m sure he is,” she teases, coquettish as she gathers her train in one hand. “I’d best leave you two be. Doubtless you have much to talk about.”

Doubtless, his thoughts echo, indignant. He marks her for a traitor as she leaves him be with only Fai and his racing mind for company. He tries to use his feelings of annoyance to strip this buzzing hyper-awareness away… to little effect.

“…Kuro?” He lets the silence linger too long, and the mage grows worried. Kurogane huffs and his gaze falls back on Fai at last.

He’s standing far too close, he thinks as his vision floods with the man he loves most. Too close and too beautiful and waiting too long for him to respond. He tries to find an answer to Fai’s concern and forgets how to use words. Struck stupid by the sight of his magician all he can manage is a hoarse,

“Hello.”

“Hello,” Fai echoes warily, expression warring between amusement and apprehension. “Is everything okay?”

Kurogane catches Fai’s gaze and the rest of the world seems to fade from view, drowned by perfect blue. Blue now—not the stubborn amber of blood-lust or the jarring blot of onyx in an uncertain world—just blue. Bright and alive and still here with him after everything and damn it… he wants Fai by his side for all the hues that might follow.

“What’s wrong?” the mage grows more anxious with each second of silence and starts to draw his hand away, already turning to try to determine what threat has Kurogane unsettled. This won’t do. He catches the hand before it can retreat and keeps Fai’s attention, even as his feelings dam his throat closed. He closes his eyes and tries to find a way to explain what he wants, but the words just don’t come.

You look nice, is banal and, hey, marry me? Seems like a bad thing to spring on someone unexpected at a party. I love you so much, it hurts, is true, but sounds like an accusation and not one he means to levy. He doesn’t regret any part of this. Not for a single instant.

He takes his usual route and settles for action when words fail him—cradles Fai’s captured hand with his own and presses his lips to the center of Fai’s palm.

He looks the way he does every time Kurogane manages to demonstrate some degree of the depths of his feelings: as though the floor has fallen beneath his feet and he has no ground to stand on.

“Oh,” the mage murmurs, backlit by a low light that bounces subtly off the silk of his clothes and the shining gold of his hair. Kurogane wants little more than to pull him deeper into shadow and kiss him until everything he struggles to say coalesces without words.

He doesn’t look away as he shifts their positions to let Fai’s shaking fingers linger over the shape of his jaw. He keeps his hold on Fai’s wrist gentle—tries to provide an anchor to reality as the blonde’s thoughts race behind his eyes. “…Kuro? I’m not…sure this is the time or place for—whatever this is.”

He’s not wrong, but he also makes no move to pull away. Kurogane sighs and closes his eyes, tries to block out the vision that captivates him even as he leans into Fai’s touch. He can’t do more than that with the party still buzzing, barely concealed behind the thin veneer of privacy the alcove affords. He has to say something. He can’t leave it be—not now with his mind so locked on the idea of forever.

“I—Fai. When all this is over, do you, maybe—”

He almost says it then. He doesn’t’ even know the words on the tip of his tongue—they spill forth organically, easily for once in his life and he’s going to say something, even if he doesn’t quite know what. So of course that’s when the kids find them.

“Aha! Mokona’s super secret technique, Finding Mommy and Daddy!” the blasted bun’s cheery announcement treads roughshod over his every nerve. Probably Fai’s too if he had to guess; the mage jerks back as if he’s been burned, his awful fake smile plastered back into place. “Oh no! Did we interrupt?”

…we…?

Kurogane takes a deep breath and dares to turn around. Sure enough, there stand both Syaoran and Mokona. The Manjuu is perfectly chipper but Syaoran at least has the good grace to look embarrassed.

“S-sorry!” he stutters, face a burning red. “I didn’t know you were—uh…. We’ll just go over here, and—”

Fai comes to their rescue as usual. All too used to acting despite his feelings, he casts off embarrassment like a shroud and bustles forth to reassure the kid.

“Nothing to worry about!” he crows, “We were just about to head back in to the fray.” He glides closer to Syaoran and blocks the lingering electricity in the air with distance. Every motion still so damnably graceful—Kurogane feels further doomed with every breath. He crosses his empty arms and leans into the wall, watching his love retreat.  

“Ask me later?” Fai mouths as he rushes away, the corners of his eyes soft with apology. Kurogane huffs and musters something like a smile to reassure him.

“Sure,” he mouths back, though he still doesn’t really know what he wants to say.

…this is going to be a thing, isn’t it? He can just feel it.

#TRC #tsubasa reservoir chronicle #Kurogane #Kurofai #fanfic

[thesleepingbinch]

🥄🥄🥄

N O !

-Harrods? When? Have I, has the enterity of London – nay, the UK – unbeknowest of ourselves delighted in Certified Noob® Baked Goods? Världen är  p y t t e l i t e n  my fellow Barbarian. ‘Tis sad that you’re not there now.**    **(b/c #fikagoshdarnit!)

Ah, thanks a munch for clueing me in on The Spoon Theory as it applies here: units of energy-per-activity. Interesting. So, how many spoons do you have today? (And are they full of sugar, …or sourdough?) The whole low 🥄-status > doc > FK > managing basic life™ > lower 🥄-status > ♻ … Can’t imagine the added stress. Hopefully the doc<>FK correlation can solve that bit, at least (?). It should feel nice to know that you can start living and take steps forward in life, no?

Speaking of which; what would you like to do now moving forward (aside from nimble  b o i s)? You are obviously creative – and doing creative shenanigans should have positive effects on spoon status, right? Bonus: they are allowed to take however much time they take.

Getting out of your 🥄drawer now. Hope you’ve had a nice Midsommarhelg with the Noob Fam and given the chance to replenish the happy feels! :)

Love, W

*(Ps. did you get the card recs? No need to pub. Just checking, since Tumblr is a little godisgris, munching on asks & subs. Ds.)

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ah, Raring Wemps! So I am finally sitting down to reply to this lovely master post after the longest wait in history! (I do feel better knowing you’ve been diving into the ocean and living in #smultronsnåret, can’t get better than that, can it?). Grab a cup of coffee and get comfortable because this will be quite the long read (förlåt).

It was a long time ago since I was in London. 2012 to be precise. It’s high up on my list of places to get back to (for living) once I get better and start getting all this illness stuff under control (DoucheDoc™ laughed when he asked me what my goal was and I bluntly said ‘To get good enough to get the fuck out of here and go back to exploring the world’. Admitting he couldn’t help me with that right now, he did say he appreciated the answer). However, my invitation for fresh sea delicacies if you’d ever come a little south of that N60° border is still open. 

Sadly the doc >> FK mess is getting even deeper. The “doctor” FK turns to for consultation when the medical issues exceed the normal levels they are used to seem to have absolutely no idea what ME/CFS is and is suggesting I am ill because I am inactive (while my specialist doctor think I am already almost doing too much for my condition before we have managed to find that fine line where it goes from being ok to too much), and need exercise therapy - something my specialist clinic doesn’t even offer because it has a higher rate of making people sicker than better. So things are gonna go further, we’re getting ready to make an appeal on their ruling, and I am just completely drained already. So things have not been looking great in this department - but I’ve managed to take some time off to be by the salty sea and watching horror movies until the morning light is coming up again with dear FreshNoob friends so even though one side of my life seem to be crashing and burning, it’s not all dark and dreadful! 

Creative things do have a MAJOR positive effect on both mood and in a sense my spoons as well (or rather, it is spoons well spent, if you catch my drift?). I am working on identifying what kind of things drain me of spoons and what could possibly give me some spoons or which - at the very least - give me a very positive emotional payoff doing. I am looking for ways to get my hands on an iPad Pro and Apple Pencil (my god why are they so expensive? :sweat: ), because that way I can bring my creative stuff with me everywhere and even do it on bed on the days when I am feeling too rough to do much. It could also serve as a smaller side income, selling prints and such, eventually ... so this is really an option I am looking into! 

Also, I absolutely LOVED your tarot suggestions, tack så hemskt mycket raring! And I did both laugh and get a little frustrated because the top deck you suggested (Jolandas) ... I already own. I just can’t find it. It’s a funny story, I went into her little shop in Gamla stan as a wee little 14-15ish year old Fresh Noob (so REALLY fresh) looking to dive into this mysterious world, and I got it and she signed the book for me (Krax pax!). I’ve been looking for this deck for months now, but I can’t find it. I’m scared one of my mum’s ex’s got it with him taking his stuff from the basement (a moment of silence, please ...). 

I’ve also already been throwing some serious eyes on The Wild Unknown deck, I love the colour bursts in it and the overall simple design is really appealing. I have had some mixed feelings wondering if perhaps it’s a little too simplistic and will be hard for someone new like me - but then, maybe I have enough creativity in my head to fill out the picture myself. A huge plus is that it’s fairly inexpensive to get as well (we really stan that at the moment with thet FK struggle!).

Scouting the vast interwebs trying to find a tarot deck for my dear Bästis after she expressed interest in getting one herself after seeing my deck on the table, I did stumble upon a real masterpiece though. I mean, it was love at first sight, I am obsessed. I check back at it like at least once a day and I am just like, ugh ... look at this thing! It’s the gilded Marigold Tarot deck. Quite a dark theme, but oh my, it’s absolutely gorgeous! I can’t get it out of my head! The $60-80 price tag is quite a hefty one though, at least for the time being. I can’t really justify spending that money on a tarot deck with the struggle currently going on with FK ... 

The deck I have right now is the Gateway to the Divine Tarot. It’s a really nice deck, very detailed and everything. But I just don’t vibe with it ... 😥😥😥 I pull cards, I look at them, and then I just sort of feel this ‘ugh’ feeling inside and shove them away. Because even though the imagery is really nice and eye-catching it doesn’t hold my attention and I just, ... I don’t like it? Does it make sense? Am I being a spoiled and difficult Fresh Noob here? lol 

Wemps raring, gosh, did that little mini forecast make me both happy and a little frustrated (I mean, the patience part ... I really have to work on that one, don’t I??). I did snort and laugh a little though when you said you got The Star, because ... lately I’ve been all surrounded by stars. My whole mantra/theme for July was in fact a star studded one! (And let’s not mention how my friend has been pushing for me to change camps and start rooting for a certain Star-named hockey team lately as well ...)

Also, a small story (because why not make this HUGE post even longer, right??) - I have a really special connection to the Sun card. Not particularly the meaning of it, but the name and the imagery. Darling Fresh Noob Granny passed away when I was a mere wee little girl of the small age of six. Way way too soon. We had quite a special bond, everyone always kept commenting on it, and she always called me her sun (and she was my moon). So whenever the sun card comes up (no matter what the position), Fresh Noob do get a little sappy and take it as a small nod from Granny. 

THAT’S IT. Gosh, what a lengthy blabbering drag this turned into. I’m sorry, raring Wempy. All the smultron and wienerbröd to you if you managed to stick through this all, you’ve earned them! Now, it’s time for this little one to get up and keep following her own star ... 

#Wempy Raring #longest rant in the history of fresh noob schmitting #star filled mush #submission

[bee-kathony]

Fraser Memorial | Ch. 1 “Sutures”

Thank you @sassenachwaffles for being my beta on this chapter and thank you @jules-fraser for approving of my pictures and indulging me as I started another fic! 

2015 | Scotland

The emergency room had been quiet all morning, only three people had come in with minor injuries that were fixed in minutes. My fingers ached to suture someone’s skin, fix a broken nose... anything that would take my focus off of my ex.

Frank Randall had cheated on me. Simple as that.

But it wasn’t simple, he was my fiancé, we’d been together for six years and had plans. Hopes and dreams that involved us buying a house, getting married, children… he ruined them when he slept with one of his students. A history professor at Oxford University, Frank had wooed me in my last year of school. He was a new professor and I was smitten with the teacher.

I should have known that something like this could have happened.

I was once the student, crushing on their professor, hoping he would ask to see me after class so we could talk those extra five minutes without anyone else around.

It’d only been three months since I found out he was sleeping with her and in that short time I had relocated to Edinburgh to get away from him and my shattered dreams. Thankfully the hospital accepted my transfer. It was rare that they would take on a resident from another hospital, especially since I was English.

I glanced down at my watch, only ten minutes had passed since I’d last checked it. Sighing, I ran my hand through my mass of curls, getting my finger stuck in a knot. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” I cursed, yanking my hand and managing to make matters worse.

“Ye need scissors?” Geillis, a fellow resident, asked from behind the nurses station.

I huffed, “No, thank you. I’ve almost,” I pulled a bit more, “Got it!” My hand came free and only a few loose strands drifted to the white tiled floor.

“Ye ever think about cutting it? Yer hair?” Geillis pointed to my bird’s nest.

Shaking my head, I pulled my hair tie off my wrist and started putting it in a messy bun, “I would look horrific if I cut my hair,” I laughed, tucking loose bits into the bun. “They would stick out even more, if that’s even possible.”

“Aye, yer probably right.” She laughed and then we both turned our heads to the emergency room doors that were now opening with a bang. Finally.

A man with a slight limp walked through the doors, holding up a very large red headed man who appeared to be doubled over in pain.

“Mine!” I called before Geillis could and raced off to meet the men, leaving Geillis’ shouts of complaint behind me.

“How can I help?” I asked, my eyes taking stock of what was before me. The larger man’s face was twisted in pain, and his hand was clutching his opposite shoulder. Dislocated. There was also blood, and a lot of it, running down his arm.

“This idiot here thought he could lift a box of about forty-five bottles of whisky, clumsy dolt.” The blonde man laughed through his words, “Happened walkin’ up the stairs. Smashed all the whisky o’ course.” I chuckled lightly to myself, clearly the man was not too concerned about his friends pain.

“Come with me, we’ll get you set up in a bed and I’ll take a look at that shoulder.” I led the two men who slowly followed over to the row of beds. The large man laid down, wincing as he fell back against the pillows.

“You’ll probably want to sit up and not lean on that arm.” I instructed and moved my fingers in a ‘come forward’ motion.

“Aye, I think it’s broken.” The red haired man said, groaning as he sat up in the bed.

I laid my hand gently on his shoulder to assess the damage, it was in fact dislocated. This would be an easy fix. “It’s not broken, only dislocated.”

“Only,” he laughed and I looked into his eyes for the first time to find that they were the brightest blue I’d ever seen. Caught off guard, I shook my head slightly and turned my attention back to his shoulder.

“I’m going to pop it back into place, it’ll hurt but then feel a whole lot better.” I placed my hands firmly on his arm and he nodded, gritting his teeth and looked straight ahead.

Applying pressure, I forced his shoulder back and then up and it made a sort of popping noise as it reset. The man grunted but then let out his breath, looking down at his shoulder to see it good as new.

“Ah Dhia, it feels a thousand times better, thank ye Sassenach.” He smiled up at me and I felt my belly do a little flip.

“You’re welcome. It really wasn’t very — wait… what did you call me?” I shot my eyebrows up at him. I’m pretty sure that ‘Sassenach’ was not a very nice name to call someone.

The man blushed, his ears turning pink as he met my gaze full on, “Och, I didna mean it in a bad way, of course not, yer English are ye no’?”

“Well, yes I am.” I crossed my arms in front of me and waited for further explanation.

“So…” he drew out the word, “’Tis only a way of calling ye that, yer an outlander, lass. Please dinna take offense because I truly didna mean to offend ye. ’Tis only I dinna ken yer name.”

I looked down at my chest where my name tag should’ve been but it had somehow fallen off during the day. “Oh, I’m Claire. Claire Beauchamp.” I smiled and then I remembered the man’s friend and turned my head to him as well, offering him the same smile.

“This is Ian, my brother-in-law,” the man pointed to his friend with the limp, “and I’m Jamie. Now that we ken each other’s names maybe ye could attend to this blood that hasna stopped drippin’ out of my arm?”

I cursed under my breath. Christ, I had completely forgotten that he had been bleeding. His eyes were a distraction and his Scottish lilt was rather enchanting. Of course, I knew that by moving to Scotland, I would in fact hear plenty of Scottish accents but there was something in the Highland-lilt -- something about the way he said ‘Sassenach’.

“Jesus! I’m sorry,” my cheeks turned red and I moved over to the cabinet beside the bed, quickly pulling out what I would need. Definitely sutures, bandages, antiseptic and tweezers to pull out any remaining glass.

Once I set up the tray and had it arranged neatly, I rolled the small cart over beside the bed. “Hold out your arm please.”

Jamie lifted his arm, and I sucked in the air between my teeth, there was a large piece of glass sticking out. I normally had a strong stomach but sometimes, there were things that put me over the edge.

“Jamie, yer doctor’s afraid of blood. I told ye we shoulda gone to the other hospital,” Ian laughed and put his hand on Jamie’s back.

“I’m normally fine, blood doesn’t make me ill but seeing that,” I looked down at his arm again, “has made me just a wee bit nauseous.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. If ye throw up, I promise to make sure none of that hair on top of yer head gets in the vomit.” Jamie laughed and I would have hit him on the arm if he wasn’t injured.

“Thank you,” I said sarcastically and turned to grab the antiseptic and cloth to clean around his wound before I dislodged the glass shard.

While I cleaned his wound, Jamie didn’t complain, only pressed his lips tightly together and put on a brave face. “This may hurt,” I said in a soft tone as I held my tweezers near the glass.

“Just do it, lass.”

The glass came out easily enough, and thankfully it wasn’t very deep into his skin but he would definitely need sutures. I laid the shard on the tray and grabbed another cloth to clean him and this time Jamie let out a little yelp as the antiseptic touched his wound.

“Can deal with a dislocated shoulder but not a little sting?” I mused, smiling up at him as I continued to clean the remaining blood.

His arm twitched slightly but he didn’t pull it back, “Och, the stinging is verra painful, Sassenach, dinna make fun of me!”

“He’s a big baby, Claire, dinna listen to him,” Ian chimed, “He cries in sappy romantic movies too, don’t ye?”

Jamie glared at Ian, but there was a slight mischievous glint in his eye.

“I dinna cry, I have allergies,” Jamie grumbled, puffing out his chest a little.

I grabbed the needle and threaded the suture through the small hole and brought it to his skin. “I have allergies too, you know like when I watch ‘Titanic’ and Jack dies, somehow I always get allergies during that scene,” I joked, which earned me a nudge from Jamie’s other hand into my side.

“Dinna joke about ‘Titanic, Claire, ’tis verra serious, their love was forever.” He laughed and I had to admit to myself that he was very interesting. Jamie was such a large presence, one wouldn’t think at first glance that he was into romantic movies and even cried during them.

“Seems like ye’ll be awhile,” Ian said, “I’m gonna go and grab a snack out of the vending machine, ye need anything, Fraser?”

Fraser? Surely not…

I waited until Ian had walked away before asking Jamie what was currently making me freak out.

“Fraser? That’s your last name?” He jumped slightly as I poked him with the needle and began to suture his wound.

“Aye, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, to be exact.”

“As in… Fraser Memorial… the name of this hospital?” I paused my work on his arm to look up into his face.

Jamie’s ear’s turned pink again, “Aye, well ’tis no’ like it’s me who owns the hospital. That’d be my Da Brian. One day though… it’ll be mine.”

He was practically my boss and here I was picturing late nights cuddled up next to him on the couch watching ‘Titanic’ and crying.

“So it’s named after your dad then? Kind of odd to name a hospital after yourself, aye?” I resumed suturing his wound, nearly done.

“Och, no. It’s named after my older brother Willie.” He replied, looking down to watch the needle go through the last bit of skin and I clipped the end and tied it off. “He passed away when I was a lad.” I watched as I saw his blue eyes go gray and his smile faded for a moment. “He had cancer.”

My hand lingered on his arm, offering comfort, “I’m so sorry Jamie. Was he treated at this hospital?”

“Aye,” his voice trembled, as if he was remembering his brother now, “My father partnered with a man and bought the hospital a year after Willie died. Then they renamed it for him, to remember.”

I bandaged his arm in silence, not quite knowing what to say, what could I ever say to that?

“You’re all done.” I tucked in the end of the bandage underneath, “You need to clean the wound daily, and for the first couple of days you’ll need to change out the bandage, some blood seeping through is normal.” I assured him, and looked over to see Ian returning with bags of crisps and candy in his arms.

“Och, yer finished? I had to go to three different floors to find what I wanted.” He groaned and offered Jamie a bag of crisps.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. For healing me wi’ yer wee hands so well.” Jamie grabbed my hand and placed his lips on the back of it. I could have sworn he heard my heart beating frantically in my chest.

“No problem at all, anything for a Fraser,” I laughed, hoping I didn’t sound like I was trying to suck up to the owner’s son.

“Will I need to come back to get the sutures taken out?”

“Oh, yes! Come back in about three weeks and I’ll take them out for you.” I only prayed that when he returned I would be on shift.

“Aye, three weeks then, Claire.” Jamie smiled and turned to leave with Ian, who was munching on a Snickers bar, going on and on about how stupid Jamie was to lift that heavy of a box.

My eyes never left the back of his head as I watched them walk away and just before they turned around the corner, Jamie’s eyes met mine and he grinned, setting butterflies loose in my belly.

Present day

I checked my reflection in the mirror, applying one more coat of mascara before I decided my make-up would just have to do for the evening. My dress was a simple black, that hugged every curve and line of my body. Just the way my husband liked, or so he showed me.

“Sassenach!” He called from the living room, “Are ye ready? We dinna want to be late!”

“Such an impatient man,” I fussed, grabbing my coat from the bed and slipping it on over my shoulders. Jamie was waiting for me, his arms crossed, looking down at his watch.

“I’m ready. I swear it!” I smiled and kissed him on the cheek as he turned his face to press his lips to mine.

“Don’t!” I pulled back, “You’ll mess up my lipstick and I don’t think you want to wait around for me to fix it.”

“I’d love to mess up yer lipstick, Sassenach. And that wee dress of yers too,” the color of his eyes turned into a deep blue, “but yer right, we must go.” He sighed, frowning as he settled for a kiss to my forehead and took my hand, leading me to the door.

“Are you nervous, Jamie?” I squeezed his hand as we walked to the car parked on the street.

“Aye, a wee bit.”

“Your speech will be great, I know it.” He stopped us before we climbed into the car, his hands slid down my body to rest on my hips.

“’Tis a big responsibility, bein’ an owner of a hospital.” He squeezed my sides making me jump, “With my father retiring and all, I ken it has to be me but I just worry I willna be good at it.”

Not caring about my lipstick or the stain it would leave on his lips, I pressed forward and closed our mouths together. “Jamie Fraser, you’re the bravest man I know. You’re ready for this, your father has trained you well. Besides…” I smirked, my hands sliding down over his arse, “I can’t wait until I can say I sleep with the boss.”

Jamie laughed and pressed his lips to mine again, “I love ye, Sassenach. Truly, I do.”

“And I you, Jamie. Now let’s go! It’s bloody freezing out here, and I need those heated seats!”

He let go of my hips and opened the passenger door for me. The entire drive over, his hand never left mine - I squeezed it off and on, a matter of habit, to remind him I was there. I was always going to be there, I was always going to be his biggest supporter.

The tension was seeping out of his body. No normal person would have known that, but I knew James Fraser, and I knew just how big of a night this retirement gala at Fraser Memorial was going to be.

#fraser memorial #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #fanfiction #mclairefras #another one #chapter 1 #sutures

[theolddarkmachine]

Cather All Our Ghosts- Ch. 10/Epilogue

Death was oddly comforting. Nothing like the cold darkness that Shiro had always imagined it to be. Instead, it was warm. It lay across him like a heavy blanket, lulling him into a deep sense of safety that felt a lot like a pillowy bed. The flat black of it cradled him as it eased him into its feathery hold before it settled him into something that felt a lot like sleep.

A sleep that he could let himself float away in if it weren’t for the tether around his hand that seemed to anchor him.

Heat radiated from the point as it spilled across his palm and worked its way over his wrist.

Wake up, Shiro, it said, the voice sounding both foreign and altogether familiar. The heat coiled around his hand tighter, pulling him through the darkness towards it as it spoke.

Wake up.

He knew that voice, didn’t he?

For @sheithreversebang

Partners: @dyedgreyillusion and @dudettemal

Part 10 of 10

AO3 (Artwork Included!)

Link to Art!

Tags: Inugami, Kitsune, Tengu oh my; Magic and Curses; Slow Burn; Mild Action and Gore

A/N- Can I just be super sappy and sling some love towards Kai and Mal? Y’all were awesome partners and made my first bang experience a pretty good time. Also, big love to you, dearest readers, for giving this a chance! But uh, don’t expected anything of mine to ever update and finish this quickly ever again. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this experience, it’s that I can’t sit on what I’ve written XD Anyway, without further ado, I hope this ending makes the ride worth it!

******************

Death was oddly comforting. Nothing like the cold darkness that Shiro had always imagined it to be. Instead, it was warm. It lay across him like a heavy blanket, lulling him into a deep sense of safety that felt a lot like a pillowy bed. The flat black of it cradled him as it eased him into its feathery hold before it settled him into something that felt a lot like sleep.

A sleep that he could let himself float away in if it weren’t for the tether around his hand that seemed to anchor him.

Heat radiated from the point as it spilled across his palm and worked its way over his wrist.

Wake up, Shiro, it said, the voice sounding both foreign and altogether familiar. The heat coiled around his hand tighter, pulling him through the darkness towards it as it spoke.

Wake up.

He knew that voice, didn’t he?

Shiro.

A static hum of electricity grew at a center point just above his heart until it became almost painful, disrupting the quiet solitude of the death he’d thought he’d found. It threatened the very peace that had folded in around him, making it shake and tremble as bits and pieces of the dark began to fall away, exposing fine cracks of light.

Please, Shiro.

Illumination bled out across the black, turning it a soft morning grey as the voice grew louder. Grew clearer.

Keith? His mouth moved around the silent syllable of his name as pain rippled across his chest. He had found him, hadn’t he?

And then—

And then he’d died, hadn’t he?

Shiro, Keith’s voice came through louder, cutting through the din of his thoughts as he felt the soft brush of fingertips against his cheek. An ache rolled along the lines of his ribcage as Shiro found himself fighting against the hold of the darkness to get to his voice.

He’d come so close. He couldn’t lose him again. Not so soon.

No like this.

Come back to me.

Air burst into his lungs as pure white shattered the black as he gripped at the hand within his. Colors crested across his vision, mixing whites and reds and blacks and the deepest of purples in a swirl of blurred shapes. A quiet shush welcomed him as his mouth cracked wide around his gasps as his sight evened out, filling with nothing more than the bright light of Keith’s purple crystal eyes.

A vice-like hold wrapped itself through his fingers, the pressure of it almost painful until he realized that it was Keith’s hand.

“Hey,” the kitsune breathed, the greeting turned into silk as he looked over Shiro with a steady gaze. It was just a single word, but it sent his pulse racing through his body as his fingers tightened instinctively around Keith’s.

“Hi,” he returned, his own voice barely a whisper as he looked over Keith as if it were the first time. It felt like it could have been with the way his heart pounded against his sternum in tempo with the golden flicker of the lamplight that painted Keith’s skin with something warm. The weight of Keith’s stare pushed into his own flesh as he watched the kitsune look over him, his gaze pausing over his right arm momentarily before flashing back up to meet his stare.

Sorrow dampened the purple as his lips turned down. Pulling his own brows together, Shiro turned his eyes down to catch what had turned Keith’s expression sour.

Bright metal sat within Keith’s hand, running up from his grasp and over Shiro’s forearm. Light etched in lines through the strange metal, racing up to the ball of his shoulder, turning all that had been dulled and dead black into brilliant silver.

Moments passed before Shiro realized that it was his arm.

Awe filled him as he followed the lines, trying to make sense of the way they cut along the metallic surface, creating a beautiful pattern of geometric shapes in the place of the ill purple veins that had once been there. Squeezing Keith’s hand once more, he reveled in the feel of his skin against his metallic palm.

It didn’t make sense that he should be able to feel it as he did, but he did all the same and it left him breathless.

Keith had done it.

He had saved him.

“Keith,” Shiro started, tearing his stare from their joined hands in time to see the way he flinched as he misunderstood the sudden exclamation.

Turning away, Keith let his bangs fall as a shield between them as he looked down at the silver that crafted his new arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his cheeks coloring the quietest shade of pink as he drew a finger across the illuminated lines that cut through the silver.

“I’m so sorry,” Keith continued, keeping his eyes down as his ears flicked back, pressing into the black of his hair as he avoided Shiro’s gaze.

With his voice wrought with pain, the inugami felt a twinge in his chest as his heart cracked at the sound of it. He didn’t say what he was apologizing for, but he didn’t need to. Shiro could feel the slight tremble in his touch as he continued to run lines along his new limb.

Steadily, he pulled his arm from Keith’s grasp, slowly moving it before him before he placed his shining palm to the strong curve of his chin. Gently brushing his thumb across the crest of his cheek, he couldn’t help but admire the way the silver stood out against Keith’s tanned skin, its faint light casting a glow across his freckles and turning them to stars.

“You don’t have to be,” Shiro said, tone brushed with the same tenderness that filled his touch. Amethyst flared as Keith’s gaze snapped up, catching his as he smiled. Guiding him forward gently, he let his metallic fingers dip into the soft waves of Keith’s hair.

“You saved me,” he breathed, bumping their foreheads together. “And that’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Keith’s lips parted beneath his as he closed their distance. It spread warmth through his chest that eased itself out through his limbs as he put pressure into it, turning it from something chaste to something a bit more as his thumb continued to draw lines along the kitsune’s cheekbone. Catching the soft sound of his gasp between his teeth, Shiro held there just breathing him in as he lost his thoughts to the feel of Keith’s life beneath his hand.

He was was alive, and so was Keith, and though he knew their fight with the Galra was far from over, for now this was enough.

“Keith,” Shiro pushed the name between them, his lips moving with it as he brushed them along his mate’s. It earned him a soft keen as he felt fingers grip at the loose linen shirt he’d been put in, the needy pull of them dragging the curve of his smile higher.

“I love you, Takashi,” Keith hummed, sending the sentiment feathering across Shiro’s skin as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his grin. His ribs cracked against the expansion of his heart as it swelled, overwhelming him with the ferocity of expanding sun within his chest. It incinerated everything in its wake as it glowed within him, turning all else to dust as he tried to breathe around the gravity of it.

White glowed bright in the lines of his arm, casting shadows that caught along Keith’s edges where his hand met his skin.

“I love you,” he returned, each one of his words brushing along the darkened pink of Keith’s cupid bow. “Keith, I love you.”

Sealing his thoughts between them, Shiro kept his hold on Keith as he slowly moved back, settling his back into his pillows as he rested him against his chest, never once breaking their contact. Sighing contentedly, the kitsune melted against him as his petal soft lips opened and moved against his.

This is enough, he thought to himself as he heard his own content rumble deep within his chest. It’s everything I could ever need.

The sharp sound of wood against wood snapped them apart, a thrill rushing through him as heat raced across his cheeks and down his neck. A sheepish look pulled across Keith’s face as he cut his eyes away, pulling back further.

“Shiro!” Lance’s voice shot through the quiet that had filled the room as he entered the room with Hunk and Pidge trailing behind him.

“Oh man, it’s good to see you up!” Hunk joined in, both tengu seemingly ignoring his and Keith’s position as the kitsune fully pulled away.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asked as he dropped into Keith’s abandoned seat. Cutting his gaze to the side to where the kitsune was making his way towards Pidge, he dropped his voice low, hiding it behind his hand as he leant in close.

“Keith didn’t mess you up with his purification did he? You can tell me if he did.”

“Lance,” Shiro sighed, his grin betraying his exasperated tone as he felt the foot of his bed dip beneath Hunk’s weight.

“I told you he knew what he was doing,” Hunk said, shaking his head at his friend before he turned his own attention to Shiro. “Though, it was pretty alarming to see him stabbing your arm like that.”

An exaggerated shiver ran down Hunk’s spine, earning him a laugh from Lance as Shiro looked toward Keith with widened eyes.

Later, he mouthed.  

“He wouldn’t have had to if I could have helped,” Pidge’s voice silenced the chatter of the room as four sets of eyes turned to them. Their mouth was set in a scowl as they kept their golden eyes fixed on the ground. Shiro watched as Keith put a reassuring hand on their shoulder, his fingers pressing gently into their skin.

“It all worked out, Pidge,” he said slowly as his thumb rubbed a circle into their arm.

“I’m okay,” Shiro added with his gaze fixed on the smaller tengu. “We’re all okay, and that’s what matters.”

Sniffling loudly, they looked up, their golden gaze turned to liquid behind a sheen of tears as they stepped further into the room. Offering a smile, Shiro nodded toward them in a show of his own reassurance.

Keith’s hand slipped from their shoulder as they took another step forward, running the back of their wrist across their eyes.

“Besides, you’re still way cooler than Keith,” Lance butted in, shrugging with the statement as a sharp smile curled into the corner of his mouth. The sound of a smack punctuated the air as Keith slapped the back of his head.

Pidge’s mouth opened around bright laughter as they fell onto the bed beside Hunk, rocking against him with their mirth.

Smiling over the their group, Shiro settled himself back as he watched Lance swat at Keith’s hand, and Hunk and Pidge as they giggled against each other while they watched the pair.

This, he rectified as he sank further into the down of his pillows, was everything he could ever need.

***********************

Epilogue.

In the months that passed, life returned to something close to normal. Pidge was welcomed into the Marmora clan, their knowledge of the Galra and Haggar’s magic earning them a position as an advisor to Kolivan as he began to craft their plan of attack. Hunk and Lance returned to Allura shortly after Shiro had awakened, leaving behind a promise to return quickly and with an alliance that would strengthen their numbers tenfold.

Keith had returned to his training, and now that his heart was back, he had harnessed the light’s power with singleminded focus.

And Shiro? 

Shiro was happy. Even with the heavy handed threat of war looming over them, he found himself hopelessly lost to the joy that constantly filled his veins, making him feel light as he lived day-to-day with his mate and their clan.

Breathing deeply, Shiro smiled up towards the sky as he broke through the line of the trees, his mind lost amongst his thoughts as he made his way into the clearing.

Keith would be done with his training soon, and until then, he would wait for him by their pond. It had always been a place they’d loved, but now it had quickly become his favorite as he found himself there more often than not as he worked on harnessing his own powers.

Settling down next to the water, Shiro folded his legs beneath him as he looked over the edge to see his own silvered gaze staring back up at him. Around it, was the painted colors of the sunset sky.

A smile that was nothing more than a gentle flick upwards wormed its way across Shiro’s lips as he placed a careful hand against the unmoving mirror surface of the pond, breaking apart his reflection. Barely there ripples crested from beneath it as he let out a slow breath, watching carefully as a ring of light flowed outwards from the point.

It wasn’t very bright, but it was there all the same as he concentrated on the tickle that buzzed just beneath the skin of his newly made palm. Another ripple flowed out across the pond, its light stronger as it grew outwards toward the edges of its confines. Shiro’s smile grew with it as he watched it race for the grassy edge opposite him like a slice of moonlight on a quickened crash course for the earth.

The trick was nothing more than a slight manipulation of the very light that gave his arm power, but there was something calming about the way that it twisted and moved with his touch. It left a warmth wrapping around the white metal arm that grounded it, leaving him feeling whole, as if it was always meant to be his.

Pushing just hard enough for the water to lap up around his nails, the light grew brighter as the ring eased itself from his palm, riding the waves of the ripple lazily as he watched.

“At this rate, you won’t even need me anymore,” Keith’s voice was painted in husking laughter as he broke Shiro from deep within his thoughts, dropping him back to reality and the edge of the pond. His eyes were bright, dancing with the dying illumination that rolled along the water’s surface as he dropped down beside Shiro.

Shiro’s own smile cracked, breaking into a fully formed crescent as he turned his attentions away from the water and toward Keith. In all this time, he still couldn’t help the way his heart stalled hopelessly whenever he found himself pinned beneath the kitsune’s stare.

He’d often found himself wondering if he ever would stop feeling the affects of Keith’s carefully crafted smiles, or the gentle brush of his fingertips, or the subtle hush of his breath against his skin during sleep. More often, he found himself praying that he wouldn’t.

Biting at the corner of his lip to keep his features from breaking beneath the weight of his happiness, Shiro reached his hand toward Keith fisting his fingers in the silk of his top. It earned him a wide eyed look as he laughed.

“Shut up,” he breathed before he yanked the kitsune forward, sealing the brightness of their future between them with a kiss.

*************

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #voltron #sheith reverse bang #IT'S THE FINAL CHAPTEEEEER #thanks @ everyone who 1) put up with me whining as i wrote this #because im the literal worst about sitting on things #and 2) for giving this a read! :D

[megape]

Gifts (Blog Post)

Hi, I haven’t made a blog post in awhile regarding my growth, but that’s because I’ve been in a wishy-washy way of thinking. A lot of decisions are in my life right now, at least it feels like it, and I suppose they tend to overwhelm me. But I’ve been on new meds and I’m super stoked to see if they help out so anyway, regardless of this way of thinking, I’ve been bestowed a new healthier one! It’s like a new pair of glasses!! (Get ready for the sappiness because you guys that I tagged know I love you all to bits and if you don’t it’s about to be obvious.)

There’s a lot to point out for me in this blog post so I’m just going to ramble a bit as always.

First off, my relationship with YHWH hasn’t been the best lately. I dunno, I’ve been distant because of my depression. It got so bad a month or two ago that suicide was all I had thought about. For years I had prayed for a miracle, like They would swoop down and save me from my illness. I think I may have disregarded a lot of what They did for me on a day-to-day basis because I was looking for Them to take the Depression/Anxiety away and not just to help me through it. This put a toll on the relationship. Especially when it got to those suicidal thoughts I was having. I kept asking Them, “Am I suppose to die young? Am I being punished? Do I deserve this? Why am I hurting so much? Where are you?” 

And I remember one night I was crying to Them, specifically Him because I needed a father that night, and I told Him if he couldn’t be there beside me (which was a lie I was telling myself because of course He was right there beside me) that the least He could do was make me laugh. Ironically the next day was Easter so YHWH decided to bust out some dad jokes to make me feel better. He asked me, “What’s a bunny’s favorite way to hop?” And I remember sniffling in confusion as if he was about to tell me the stupidest joke known to man. And he responded, “To the Blitzkrieg hop! Get it? Because bunnies hop and the Blitzkrieg Bop is a song?”

I got a little off tangent, but the point of saying this experience is because that was a miracle. I may not of thought about it as so at the time, but They spoke to me and I let myself hear Them. 

It wasn’t until like two weeks or so ago that my therapist was telling me that maybe They had been sending miracles this entire time and I just never noticed because I was so stuck in my box of depression/anxiety. Which was true because I had more faith that my depression would consume me than that YHWH could save me! 

So she started to ask me the things I had been praying for and ways that They had been providing for those prayers already. I liked the way she worded it too, she called them “gifts.” So I started thinking about things differently and picked out scenarios in my head that were probably gifts from YHWH to help subdue my depression/anxiety.

One of the biggest wishes I’ve had is to not feel lonely. Specifically I kept praying for a romantic partner, but I never stopped to realize that in order to get there I had to have friends to create that from. And regardless of that, They provided me with plenty of friends when I needed it most and I completely disregarded it because it wasn’t a boyfriend or girlfriend. To point out, I sometimes appreciate the way the wind blows and completely forget to appreciate the fact that I had my best friend come down from Canada for over a week. I miss huge things because I get so stuck in the gloom that I look for tiny things too much. They’ve blessed me with some amazing people in my life right now and I never stopped to realize that they’ve been planted in my life as gifts to help with my depression/anxiety. This entire struggle where I ask for all these different prayer requests are being answered in smaller and bigger ways than I’ve cared to notice. I’ve been so stuck in my box that I haven’t gotten the chance to thank them for actually being a part of my healing.

I kept wanting Them to rescue me from my illness, but I forgot that in order to be saved I have to acknowledge and use the tools given to me so that I can be saved! It’s like someone throwing down a rope or giving me a boat or throwing me a float while i’m stuck in water. I kept wanting them to just take me from the water and didn’t realize they were giving me SO many options to get out and I just had to use the tools given to me. Granted, this healing will take time, but that’s why They’ve provided lots of tools and opportunities. 

So in essence of this realization I’m going to list some things off that have made me super happy and were probably gifts that They’ve been handing to me to help myself heal and grow.

-I made a really amazing friend at my old job and he’s been with me through thick and thin at this point. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s constantly reassuring me he’ll stay by my side and ilhsm. I don’t know what I’d do with you Chris.

-The friends who kept me going through school. Wow, I don’t think I would have made it without your support and goofy antics.

-Um, I went to Pride last year and that was SO much fun!!!!!!

-I have the opportunity to go to this church that’s nondenominational and they’ve been really accepting and loving. I also might try a universalist church because I feel like I want to go and create a community in order to help push me forward in healing.

-I made a super fucking awesome friend through this cute lil dating app and he’s been like the light of my life lately. Honestly I’ve done so many fun things with him these past couple months and he’s opened my life up to Dungeons and Dragons so that’s pretty radical!!! You may not know it, but you’ve been a really big blessing to my life. I’m glad you’re here on this planet at the same time as me. Sorry about the sappiness, but it’s true. :p

-I have this sweet lil bb of a friend that always checks in on me and sends me cute and funny things despite the fact that I’ve been a distant friend to her. ilysm Snikkers <3

-There’s yet another friend who has been there since practically my childhood who I’ve connected with progressively more as I’ve grown up. She’s amazing and funny and we laugh so much when we’re together. Whether it was webkinz and One Direction or to laughing about boys and sexuality you have been the best, Faith.

-My therapist. <3

-I have a really big imagination and it helps being able to create characters, I guess sort of like imaginary friends, that I can go through it with. Also, my imagination helps me have more faith that YHWH is beside me because I can imagine what it would be like and know that it’s happening. Even though I can’t “see” YHWH holding my hand or dancing in the car with me... I can imagine it and know that that’s exactly what’s going on.. even if my (earthly(?)) eyes can’t witness it yet. 

-I have the raddest and most amazing internet friend in the entire universe. She’s constantly there through thick and thin and wants to help even though I push her away sometimes. She’s been a definite miracle from God because I prayed for her a long time ago and she’s stayed in my life for MANY years now! wow, claps to you my best friend and soul sister

-My parents are the bomb. they’re funny and constantly asking how I’m doing and wanting to help in any way they can. They ask me all the time what they can do if I’m feeling sad and help me when I’m stressed. They’ve come along for a tough journey and I’m glad YHWH gave me parents that handle my issues with love. Though it may be hard at times and we may not see eye-to-eye they have always been there to learn and grow beside me.

-And lastly, all of these people and experiences (plus so many more I didn’t list, but will list below) have fulfilled my love languages in ways I never noticed until now. Like, YHWH has provided me with some pretty wicked people and I never really stopped to say thank you to anyone. 

So thank you:

To my friends @youcant-takemysky @imagine-starco @el-ahrairahthefakeghost @hamilzies @pontmarius and the others who don’t have tumblrs or I didn’t mention here. Here’s to the fun memories and quality time, conversations, words of encouragement, acts of service, physical affection, and gifts along the way. To me you’ve been gifts I couldn’t be more thankful for!

Sorry if this is too sappy for you; I just want everyone to know I love them unconditionally. If you know me, are getting to know me, or are a complete stranger: our interactions together make life worth living. If we can all give love and learn to receive it we can make this world a better place. :) ~

#spiritual #blog post #healing #depression #anxiety #YHWH #god #friendship #relationships #love #agape

[wordsdrippinginink]

Could I get a MAS fic where they find out Ace has the same disease as his father and is going to die soon?

Marco leans back in the chair that Ace had dragged him out to, his eyebrow arching up as Sabo shrugs helplessly at him, the pool looking far too inviting int the tropical heat as Ace leans against the bar, watching them both brightly.

“He’s still sleeping too much,” Sabo says leaning closer to Marco, all but crawling onto his chair with him. “And he’s eating less.”

“He’s still adjusting to his new medication,” Marco reminds Sabo softly, his hand burying into his curls as Ace bounces back over, less bounce in his step than there use to be. “Happy to be on vacation, darling?”

“Yeah,” Ace admits scooting closer to the two of them. “It’s nice, I like being here with you. I like having time with you and being able to only have you two to myself.”

“I thought you would have gotten something,” Sabo says taking his drink and tapping the glass against the glass of water that was obviously for Ace. “You didn’t want to drink with us?”

“I promised that I wouldn’t drink with my new medication,” Ace says smiling sadly. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to turn down the prize and I thought you and Marco could drink enough to make up for me not being able to. Now smoosh close, I wanna take a picture.”

Marco rolls his eyes and snatches up his drink, using his free arm to drag Ace into his lap and cradle him between himself and Sabo, hiding his smile in his hair as Ace snaps the picture. He had been more insistent about pictures than normal, but Marco was sure that it was because they hadn’t had enough time to go on many vacations like this before.

“You going to send that to Luffy?” Sabo ask leaning closer to see Ace uploading the picture online and tagging it with romantic sappy messages. “Or show it to everyone we know?”

“I wanna show you off,” Ace says taking a swig of his water and leaning in for a kiss. “You deserve to be shown off, don’t you?”

“You’re ridiculous, darling,” Marco whispers kissing Ace’s temple, leaning back and dragging them both with him and leaning to kiss Sabo’s temple. “I think I want to relax for a bit.”

Sabo laughs pressing into his side, head resting on Marco’s shoulder, “It’s nice. This is really nice. Thanks for this, Ace.”

Ace’s smile grows brighter, “You’re welcome, it’s nice to be here with you both. I don’t remember the last time we got to really relax together. Not since before you got promoted, Marco.”

“No, not since then,” Marco agrees, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin and the two of them pressed close. “How did you win this?”

“Your dad,” Ace answers shrugging. “I didn’t get all the details, but I wasn’t going to say no to time with you both.”

“Probably for the best,” Sabo yawn. “I mean it’s nice, isn’t it?”

Ace is already falling asleep as they make their way back from dinner, leaning heavily against Sabo, “Sorry, Sab.”

“Oh Ace,” Sabo whispers kissing the corner of his mouth. “It’s not that big of a deal, sweetheart. Your medication always messes with you when you start a new one. I don’t know why they gave you a new one in the first place.”

“Need-” Ace yawns, shaking like a dog. “Needed a stronger dose and they thought we might try something new. It’s still working through everything. I would have waited on the trip, but it was already paid for.”

Marco laughs sweeping Ace off his feet, “Of course darling. Come on, lovely, I think our prince needs to get home before midnight.”

“Prince Charming is he?” Sabo teases, leaning in for a kiss and laughing at the groan as Ace tugs at his shirt. “Sweetheart?”

“I love you.”

Sabo’s heart always stops when Ace says that. It feels like it’s too small in his chest, like it’s wrapped up and suffocating, before tripping over itself.

“I love you too, Ace,” Sabo promises kissing him sweetly. “I love you so much.”

Ace smiles, rubbing their noses together softly before pulling back and twisting to smile at Marco too, “I love you.”

 “I love you too, darling,” Marco whispers ducking down enough for a kiss. “Go to sleep and we’ll both be here for you in the morning, darling.”

“But I thought we had,” He yawns, covering his mouth and burying his face in Marco’s chest. “I thought we had plans.” The barely there wiggle of his eyebrows is enough to show exactly what he implied.

“And we don’t have plans in the morning,” Sabo smirks. “I think it can wait until you won’t fall asleep on us.”

Marco smiles, “And we have plenty of time for those plans. Go to sleep and don’t worry about that, darling.”

“Kay,” Ace mutters, closing his eyes and falling asleep almost as quickly as he closed them.

“Medication adjustments are the worse,” Marco sighs into Ace’s hair as Sabo unlocks their door. “I wish that they hadn’t needed to adjust them. He was doing fine on them for so long.”

“But they did and we’ll have to live with it. He’ll be fine. Hopefully he starts eating more again. It’s weird when I eat more than he does. It makes me think that he’s sick.”

Marco snorts lay Ace on the bed and easing off his shoes, “He always tells us when he’s sick. We would know if that was the issue.”

“How many pictures did you take,” Marco asks collapsing onto their couch, feeling the grime of the plane sticking to his skin as Ace drops into his lap, Sabo having laid claim to the shower. “I know you were snapping hundreds of them.”

“Hundreds. I want to have hundreds of them. We never get to go on vacation and I want to have happy pictures,” Ace says smiling up at him. “It’s important to have lot of them when we have three different work schedules to work out getting us all on vacation.”

Sabo stumbles out the bathroom, towel around his waist and dripping wet, “Next.”

“You can take it,” Ace tells Marco. “I have tomorrow off.”

“Thank you, darling,” Marco whispers kissing his forehead as Sabo drops onto the ground before Ace with another towel around his shoulders. “I think he wants some help, darling.”

Ace laughs, “You could dry your own hair, Sab.”

“But you do it so much better than I can.”

“You’re a dork, come on then, I’ll dry it this time,” Ace says accepting the towel and scrubbing his hair. “Did you enjoy it? The vacation?”

“It was great. Thank you for it, Ace. I loved it so much. It was nice, just the three of us and nothing to worry about.”

“Good, that was the point of it,” Ace says smiling.

“Sabo,” Marco answers his phone the number of missed calls and messages throwing him off as the newest call rang through. “What’s-”

“Ace,” Sabo gasps out, sounding breathless and like he’s been crying. “I-I came home and he was collapsed on the kitchen floor. There was blood and- We’re at the hospital but they aren’t saying anything yet.”

Marco feels his knees go out from underneath him, falling back into his chair, staring at the wall of his office in horror, “They’re not, they haven’t said anything?”

Sabo sniffs, “No, not-not yet. I’m, it’s only been a hour but I’m worried Marco. What if he’s not okay? What if he got sick when we were on vacation? What if we weren’t paying enough attention?”

“Alright, I’m,” Marco takes a breath and forces himself to his feet, already planning what he’s going to do. “I’m going to leave work now. I’m leaving and I will meet you there. Can I hang up while I talk to Pops and schedule to have someone take my shifts for a few days.”

“W-will you text me?” Sabo asks softly.

“I’ll text you every moment of the way,” Marco promises.

Sabo takes a shuddering breath, “Call me back as soon as you are done, please. I’m scared. Marco, I’m scared.”

“I know, lovely. I’ll be there soon, I swear and I will call you as soon as I’m done.”

“Alright. I’ll, I’ll let you know if they tell me what is going on with Ace.”

“Thank you.”

Marco doesn’t even think anything of how fast it takes him to clear his schedule with his Pops, hurrying to grab a taxi, too worried to drive himself and calling Sabo, listening to him talk about how there hadn’t been anything new about Ace’s condition.

“Marco,” Sabo throws himself into Marco’s arms the moment he’s close enough, burying his face in his chest, sobbing harder than he had been on the phone.

“Oh, Sabo,” Marco whispers kissing the top of his head. “No news?”

“Nothing.”

Ace looks pale under his tan, his eyes half lidded as he glances at them over the top of the oxygen mask, “They told you, huh?”

“You, you didn’t,” Sabo starts biting his bottom lip as Ace nods. “Why didn’t you? You didn’t, why did you tell us?”

“I, I didn’t want you to be sad,” Ace smiles brokenly. “I didn’t want you two to do this. I didn’t want this. I wanted you be happy, you weren’t suppose to spend the entire time I was dying crying.” He touches his chest. “I would be the one thing that my fucking dad actually gave me.”

Marco closes his eyes, “It’s genetic?”

“Yeah, they said that I didn’t have it last time I was checked for it. About three years ago. I guess they missed something. I came in because I thought there was something off with my medication and they told me that I actually had my father’s illness.”

“How long before the vacation?” Sabo demands. “How long did you know before you planned that?”

“Two days. Your dad had it set up as a reward for your hardwork, that’s all. He told me to lie about it when he found out. He wanted me to tell you and I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to. I was going to tonight.”

Sabo stops, “You were going to tell us?”

“Of course I was, I just,” Ace looks away from them both. “I wanted one more happy memory before you watched me waste away and die in front of you. I wanted you to have one memory where we were happy before I literally died.”

“We’re still mad,” Marco whispers, trying not to burst into tears. “We’re still furiously mad at you, but we love you.”

“It would have been easier if you didn’t,” Ace says softly, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I won’t be here much longer.”

#portgas d ace #marco the phoenix #sabo #marcosaboace #angst #modern au #no comfort #heavily referenced death #sad ending #there is no happy ending here #fucking #i'm crying and i don't like this #anon please don't do this again #word's writing #Anonymous #wordword

[burnedlegend-archive]

In conclusion, Mick basically gives zero fucks in regards to basically anything. Also, this isn’t a tagging game, I just nicked it from a meme blog, feel free to take it and do whatever with it.

PLACE IN SOCIETY

Financial: Wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

Medical: Fit / moderate (he’s pretty healthy and fit, but if we take into account his mental illnesses there’s a different kettle of fish) / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged

Class or caste: Upper / middle / working / slave / Unsure (he doesn’t really have a class, he just... exists)

Education: Qualified / unqualified (i hate this question because of the way it’s worded like... yeah, he really doesn’t have much education but he’s not stupid, and qualified-unqualified for what? what are we discussing here?) / studying

Criminal record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no

FAMILY

Married - happily / Married - unhappily / engaged or betrothed / partnered (FIGHT ME ON THIS) / single / divorced / separated

Has a child or children / has no children / wants children

Close with sibling(s) / Not close with sibling(s) / Has no siblings

Orphaned (i mean... technically) / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parents

TRAITS + TENDENCIES

Extroverted / Introverted / in between

Disorganised / Organised / in between

Close minded / Open minded  / in between

Calm / Anxious / in between (he’s honestly neither; he isn’t calm but he isn’t a worrier, he’s just a ball of rage and tension lol)

Disagreeable / Agreeable / in between

Cautious / Reckless / in between

Patient / impatient / in between

Outspoken / Reserved / in between

Leader / follower / in between (generally he can be both and would prefer to lead, but following Len has always been the best thing for him in regards to keeping him grounded and alive)

Empathetic / Unempathetic / in between (he can be empathetic in the rawest sense, but it’s a matter of actually caring enough about someone in the first place to be empathetic towards them; he has the capacity, just not the will or care)

Optimistic / pessimistic / in between

Traditional / modern / in between

Hard working / lazy / in between (he can be hardworking as hell but also he just. he likes naps and food okay)

Cultured / un-cultured (who gives a fuck about your societal norms, not him) / in between / unknown

Loyal (when he decides you’re deserving of loyalty he will fucking follow you to the end, until you give him a perceived reason not to) / disloyal / unknown

Faithful / unfaithful / unknown (is this just the romantic version of the loyal bit? since I don’t know what the difference is, I’m going with unknown, but the actual answer is probably the same as loyal)

BELIEFS:

Monotheist / polytheist / atheist  / agnostic (he isn’t sure what to believe; he grew up religious, rejected it, and now sort of lives in this limbo of ‘I just have no clue’)

Belief in ghosts or spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care (he fluctuates; sometimes he believes they exist, sometimes he doesn’t, mostly he doesn’t care because he doubts they can affect him in any way)

Belief in an afterlife:  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

Belief in reincarnation:  yes (only because he knows it’s happened with Hawkman and Hawkgirl; he doesn’t necessarily believe it exists for everyone, but does know it exists for some people) / no / don’t know / don’t care

Belief in aliens:  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious (more like ‘questioning as fuck’)

Philosophical: yes / no (i mean... he can be but usually doesn’t bother)

OPINIONS

Pro-suicide / anti-suicide / doesn’t know or on the fence (mostly he just doesn’t give a fuck, and for every response after this that’s ‘’doesn’t know’’, it should be ‘’doesn’t care’’, as he doesn’t care about most of this, he just lives his life and lets people live theirs usually)

Pro-euthanasia / anti-euthanasia / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-choice / anti-abortion /  doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-marriage / anti-marriage / doesn’t know or on the fence (sure, why not, but also that’s so sappy why bother with the formalities, if you’re going to stay with each other forever, just do it, he says and pretends not to be thinking of a certain person)

Pro-death penalty / anti-death penalty / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-drug legislation / anti-drug legislation / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-murder (let’s be real, he is) / anti-murder / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-cannibalism / anti-cannibalism (sorry this is where he draws the line,, he’s horrified) / doesn’t know or on the fence

Left wing / right ring / middle / doesn’t know or on the fence (he doesn’t give a fuck, he hates politics anyway)

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC INCLINATION

Allosexual / Asexual

Alloromantic / Aromantic 

Sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favourable

Romance repulsed / romance neutral (he borderlines on romance repulsed for a while until he really and truly gets to know someone, then he’s more neutral on it)  / romance favourable

Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious

Potential sexual partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all (he doesn’t give a fuck, if he ends up finding you attractive, he ends up finding you attractive, he doesn’t need an emotional connexion for this, he just needs to be in a particular mood)

Potential romantic partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all (he has the potential for any gender, though romance is highly unlikely for him anyway, but he does lean toward men and masculine-presenting people in regards to long-term things; with flirting and flings he tends to lean toward women and femininely-presenting people)

ABILITIES

Combat skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Literacy skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Artistic skills: excellent / good / moderate (he could be decent if he tried, but mostly his artistic capabilities are more woodworking and metalworking as that’s all he’s really tried) / poor / none

Technical skills: excellent / good / moderate (he knows what he needs and wants to know) / poor / none

HABITS

Drinking alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Smoking: never / sometimes (sometimes frequently, it depends on his mood) / frequently / to excess

Other narcotics: never / sometimes (when he was a lot younger he tried it a few times; it never was his thing) / frequently / to excess

Medicinal drugs: never / sometimes (again, same as above) / frequently / to excess

Indulgent food: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Splurge spending: never (he just steals it) / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Gambling: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

#Misc: smoke signals (headcanons)

[mayhemmax-blog]

My Kinda Sorta “Poem” about NRI

Find the video at: https://t.co/clhxDXpEWb

So I’m sorry I’m bad with poetry, the way words mingle together does not come easily to this little bee. But I would like to say what NyxRisingIndustries means to me.

I think a bit of backstory is necessary for this tale before I get too sappy. I was a pre-teen who was seldom happy, keeping emotions bottled inside until they exploded in a fit of tears and isolation. I’d spend many of my younger days locked in the bathroom, covering my mouth to keep the sound of my tears silent, silent, don’t let them hear. They can’t know you’re unhappy, so many kids have it worse than you.

I self harmed in ways that weren’t obvious to my family, keeping things hidden under a good pair of jeans or a couple lies, the illusion of having eaten at school. I’m ill, I can’t have dinner right now or it’ll just come back up, feigning sleep for days until I felt like my body wasn’t mine but somebody else’s and I had just been told to navigate it.

I did just enough to stay alive but never to really live. That is until I found Nyx, I was 16. Wow, that doesn’t seem like so long ago when I think about it now, but the process of  change for me has felt like years, and I still don’t think I’m quite done yet.

It had been simple, almost too simple.

Forget that my meals were anything but regular and don’t listen to the sounds I made, whispering my secrets to porcelain diaries for only they could keep these things silent,

Nevermind that little limp of mine, I twisted my ankle climbing down the steps and ignore my flinch when you all press in a little too close, a little too fast,

Lying became something I did with every other breath because I couldn’t tell people that I was upset, I didn’t deserve their sympathy because I was selfish,

A pampered prince who’d didn’t know real hardship.

So instead I’d keep it down, locked up tight and out of sight, only showing the smallest bit of true emotion when I’d step under a much too cold spray of h2o,

I’d release a small hiss as the icy rivulets traveled down my thighs, helping bright red twirl twirl twirl down the drain hiding my sins as it traveled through the pipes

That is until I had stumbled upon a video on YouTube, and I know that sounds silly but please, just let me explain,

A rag-tag group of pals, proudly parading through a con, costumes on and smiles seemingly instinctual.

It was peculiar to say the least, I’d never paid much attention others grins but these ones seemed so bright they almost made me blind and I couldnt even remember the last time I’d smiled with such wild abandon.

Cameras up a few inches high and an arm’s length away but providing a small glimpse, a window, into a world I didn’t believe I was privy too but oooh boy did I want to be.

To me, this had seemed like a movie, something on a big screen showing a younger me that, yes, that is what you could be

Fast forward a week, after the obsessive watching of all of their videos,

I’d felt more like a…friend than I would normally be comfortable saying,

But hey, I’m here to be honest aren’t I?

And while I’m being honest, heres just a few things I’ve decided I’d like to say to you:

So I think I’ve brought you up to speed, there’s no more to tell really. Except how I was…saved? Is that the right phrase?

I sound so sappy, so dreadfully dull when I phrase it like that I can’t think of another term to correctly say it. I was saved.

When I think of Nyx, Bee, Sasha, Jack, I think of a family. A community of comrades armed to the teeth with love and compassion. A passion that burns inside to be your true you, put yourself out there in an honest way.

Nyx, when I think of you I see a starry eyed goddess who’s pouring her heart and soul into making others laugh, a path most others couldn’t walk. And still she pushes on, a warrior at heart who can’t seem to be apart from her newfound family, struggling to keep this boat from sinking on a stormy sea and my God, are you doing an incredible job,

Becki, when I think of you I think of someone who loves deeply, truly hard and isn’t afraid of falling because you know how to fly. A lovely individual with a heart of gold (almost as deep as her hair), who holds people so tenderly, oh so close to her soul despite how frightening it may seem because she’s seen too much love to be afraid of so little hate,

Sasha, when I think of you I see a strong huntress with hair of flames walking alongside the rising sun. She’s always prepared, slinking, creeping, silently stalking until she’s ready to strike, but not in a horrific way, certainly never gory. A loving, living, breathing soul who seems eager to put herself out there and doesn’t care for the negativity because the light of love surrounding her is bigger than any shadow and she uses her strength to make others strong.

Jack, when I think of you I see a sassy, saucy, splendid gentlemen who lives in the moment and enjoys the written word. A love for tales while unknowingly, unwittingly you are writing you own, and you good sir, are playing the protagonist with characteristics young adults aspire to while reading late at night when the shadows press in just a little too tight. And there are so many people listening and loving, and learning right along with you.

When I think of NyxRisingIndustries, I see a community I am proud to be a part of, a loving breathing, tender being of affection who’s embraced a lost child like me with open arms. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for them and I’m afraid of who I was before I came to be a part of this. I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve still got a long way to go. I still don’t get as much sleep as I should, still skip a meal or two but every day you’re helping me be who I want to be. I smile more, I finish most of my meals and it’s been almost a full year since I’ve taken a blade to my flesh.

I know this may seem a little weird, perhaps a bit obsessy or even kinda scary and I’m sorry!

I don’t mean to frighten, certainly not to offend, but I just wanted to say…thank you.

Thank you Nyx for being a goddess, whose light defends me from my own nightmares, shining so bright and chasing off the shadows.

Thank you Sasha for being such a fiery eyed huntress always there, even if unintentionally, keeping young rabbits like me safe from the big, bad things in this bigger, badder forest,

Thank you Becki for your heart of gold which has helped me go to sleep knowing I’m cared for, even if just a little, by someone a world away.

Thank you Jack, for your sass and soft attitude that have helped me through my tears and a mannerism that could even help me beat my loneliest days.

Thank you all, for being you.

@nyxrising

#kinda sorta poetry #honestly i'm super anxious about this

[amourete-blog1]

(( whaaat? a civil conversation??

tagging: @sugary-empress @hereticalsym69ls @auratimoris

begin log:

sugary-empress )(ey, I'm gonna go destroy t)(e Overseer, are you gonna come or do you too value Xant)(e's )(ig)( minded ideals over )(is ability to control )(is own mind?~ O)( wait, you blocked me, nebbermind~

aberrantcadenza ... Well, actually.

I'll. Yeah, I have some explaining to do. But I need to arrange something for Xanthe's safety so let me do that first? And uh. Then I'll answer that. Sorry to keep you waiting.

sugary-empress Sure fin, dear~

[[ And then Felide finished up this conversation we just saw ]]

aberrantcadenza Okay, now that that's done. Who is "the Overseer"?

sugary-empress ???~ Seriously?~ T)(e gill in Xant)(e's pan~

aberrantcadenza Oh, her? You know where she is?

sugary-empress S)(e may )(ave moved, if s)(e was really willing to give up )(er collection, but I can find )(er~ We were pretty close for a bit, I'm able to find people wit)( magic trickster s)(it if I'm familiar wit)( t)(e feel of t)(em~

aberrantcadenza You said "you too" - did you ask someone else about this?

sugary-empress Du)(, Corvin~ )(e seemed t)(e type to care, I suppose I overestimated )(im~

aberrantcadenza No... I don't think you overestimated him. We were also discussing killing her. How soon do you plan to go?

sugary-empress O)(, good, it must )(ave just been a me issue~ Per)(aps in a few nig)(ts, I'd prefer Xant)(e be better so I know s)(e isn't in t)(ere w)(en s)(e dies~ T)(at kind of fin can lead to possession, super unpleasant~

aberrantcadenza Jesus, I'll bet. My first priority is Xanthe and his health and stability. ... Fooor that reason. I'm not... saying no just yet. I need time to think. Saying yes would be going against him and uh. Considering he's my life mate, that's kind of a big deal. Give me time? I'll get back to you before then.

sugary-empress And mine as well~ Of course, I completely understand~ T)(ank you~ I'm so glad )(e found you again~

aberrantcadenza :?? You are?

sugary-empress Yea)(???????~ Dude )(e loves you SO muc)(~

aberrantcadenza Well, yes but... I didn't really think anyone else cared :'33 Except now that they have to deal with us being sappy at each other.

sugary-empress Anyone w)(o cares aboat )(im cares~ I've seen )(im missing you since )(e made a blog~ Lmao, sorry, I'm being all weird~

aberrantcadenza :oo Oh... No, it's alright. I'm just dealing with a lot right now, don't worry. Attention divided. ... For what it's worth, I'm glad to be back. And I'm sorry I blocked you without warning.

sugary-empress Mm~ It's not like I'm not used to it by now~

aberrantcadenza :((

sugary-empress I accept your apology~

aberrantcadenza Xanthe told me I wasn't ready to talk to you and I guess I should have listened. I got stressed and overwhelmed and I thought I'd just quietly step out. I'll be honest, though... I didn't intend to unblock you just yet? But we can call it a happy accident :'33

sugary-empress Xant)(e is usually rig)(t, it's annoying!~

aberrantcadenza Right??

sugary-empress O)(, I see~ (It's )(is one flaw)~

aberrantcadenza *Fuck.* I had intended to unblock you when I felt up to it, hopefully in the future, but... one of the wrigglers got to it first. I looked away for two seconds and they broke my blog. I actually can't block anyone now, apparently.

sugary-empress Oo)(, yikes~

aberrantcadenza But... the good news is, I'm finding from experience that I do feel a little better.

sugary-empress Got anyone worse t)(an me blocked?~ 38( T)(at is good, at least!~

aberrantcadenza Nah. Just someone else's matesprit that I didn't get along with... I don't plan on engaging him anytime soon. :PP I think we'll be just fine.

sugary-empress Good!~ By t)(e way, I know I'm way late, but I'm sorry for your loss~

aberrantcadenza :!! It's okay! I'm just... wow. I'm surprised you remembered. ... Thank you for the thought. Did you know her?

sugary-empress I didn't know )(er well, but I knew )(er and know t)(is site well enoug)( t)(at I doubt you got enoug)( condolences~ I saw a few celebratory posts~ T)(at doesn't feel good~

aberrantcadenza X(( The celebratory posts escaped my notice, but honestly, I never expected anyone to mourn.

aberrantcadenza She wasn't close to a lot of people. Really she said I was "different" than other trolls somehow... which leads me to believe I may have been the only one she tolerated. I was trying to help her see otherwise at the time of her death.

sugary-empress Mourning t)(e dead isn't a requirement to be a good person~ Compassion for t)(e survivors is~ Yes, I know~

aberrantcadenza :00 That's wise.

sugary-empress If you'd )(ad time, you would )(ave been to )(er w)(at Xant)(e was to me~ O)( yea)(, t)(at's w)(at t)(ey say aboat me, lol~ Wisdom out t)(e ass over )(ere~

aberrantcadenza You're honestly a breath of fresh air after the past few days I've had. Thank you... Even as little as it might seem. I was intending to help her the way Xanthe said he's been trying to help you, yeah. Just... that first step is a little hard.

sugary-empress O)(, well~ You're welcome~ I'm glad~ 38) All t)(e steps are )(ard, but getting one of us to care aboat one single troll is t)(e foot in t)(e door~ It's all down)(ill from t)(ere~

aberrantcadenza X33 Seems like it was a bit of a slow decline then, with Pangea... six perigees wasn't enough to do much at all.

sugary-empress It never is~ It took Xant)(e a squidillion sweeps plus Sparks magically making me a fucking mortal to do anyfin to me, and I'm still very~ You know~ (Gestures at all of me and my w)(ole blog)~

aberrantcadenza You two have known each other some time, then. :00 I always feel like I'm interrupting something when I talk to his longtime friends :'33 I didn't come to this site immediately, although we were resurrected not too far apart from each other.

sugary-empress My dear, we're t)(e ones w)(o were interrupting~ Fuck, I petnamed at you again, I'm so bad at not doing t)(at~

aberrantcadenza :00c No, it's... alright, actually. Thank you for remembering, but it's okay if you mess up.

sugary-empress Anyways, you guys were first, anyone w)(o doesn't get t)(at or is jealous is an enormous toolbag~ >You were SUPER jealous, but you're also well aware that you're an enormous toolbag.

aberrantcadenza I appreciate your saying so, but honestly jealousy is understandable X'33 What matters is what we do with it. I feel bad that he pined for so long. I'm glad he was able to open up to others, though...

sugary-empress T)(at's true!~ It's like t)(at dumb bulls)(it people say, w)(at you sink is )(ow you were raised, but w)(at you actually do is w)(o you actually are, or waterver~ Mm, yea)(~

aberrantcadenza "Wisdom out the ass" strikes again. X33

sugary-empress Omfg~ Yoar so muc)( fun to glub at~ 38)

aberrantcadenza You too! :33 Now that I'm like. You know, more prepared to actually socialize... I'm finding our confursations rather fintriguing!

sugary-empress Do tell me if I get to be too muc)(, I know I'm kind of a lot, in like, every way~

aberrantcadenza :00 ! And likewise, haha... I guess I'm okay now, but when I get heated I can be a little much :'33 Thank you for your clawnsidpurration.

sugary-empress It's also super fun to glub at a fellow pun ent)(usiast~ Clawnsidpurration is GR------EAT~

aberrantcadenza :DD ! I'm glad you think so! I like punning, just... haven't felt up to doing so much lately.

sugary-empress I sink we've all been t)(ere~

aberrantcadenza X'33 Yeah... But talking to you has catually lifted my spirits quite a bit. It's weird, but... nice.

sugary-empress I'm super glad I could kelp~

aberrantcadenza I've got to run and meet Nadaya now. But purrhaps we'll be glubbing again more in the future? :00

sugary-empress I wis)( I could do anyfin for Xant)(e, but I sink you guys )(ave it covered, as muc)( as anyfin can be done~ I'd like t)(at!~ Farewell~

aberrantcadenza We're doing our best, for sure. He's in good hands. Take care! :33

bonus ooc content for extra laughs, in the middle of the conversation re: pangea:

sugary-empress ((WAIT THAT DID HAPPEN AFTER CONDY WAS BLOCKED RIGHT)) aberrantcadenza (( YEAH YOU'RE GOOD sugary-empress ((I thought it was but if it wasn't then like "I know I'm late but I'm sorry for ur loss" "U didn't say anything when it happened" "Yeah I didn't care haha"))

#sugary empress #hereticalsym69ls #auratimoris #ooc post #/ #log archives #Event: KILL THE BEAST