#enjoy my brain dump bye

[disposal-blueeee]

another super self-indulgent chapter 20 / 21 drawing

edgar belongs to jhonen vasquez

scriabin belongs to @zarla-s

[sulphuricgrin]

I bring anot- wait wtf is this- a Miraak headcanon? from the Altmer headcanons guy?

What kind of bullshit is this?

Anyways, hi, here's a little of my take. I feel like this is an awful idea to drop this before I write Miraak's first chapter in my fic. Watch me share this, get killed by hammers, and drop my fic. haaaa

I'm just gonna "lore" dump and disappear forever.

A bit of low-key horror, which is a given with my fic tags; kinda existential horror with the themes of the limits with the mortal mind & memories. (Mention of my OC, Lilliandra obviously.)

After living in Apocrypha for +4500 years, he can't actually remember much of Nirn - the smells, sounds, the feel of the sun, etc. He naturally wants to escape, but what unfamiliar world would he be returning to? Knows the change of languages due to ciphers & books though.

Memories are a weird thing. How often are our memories 100% accurate? As time goes on, we begin to forget the earlier memories. So what happens when you've been alive longer than a mortal should be? Let's also not forget that memories tied to stronger emotions (fear, anger, trauma, embarrassment, etc) are easier to recall than the mundane.

So what happens to your memories after +4500 years?

Well, Miraak finds them a bit difficult. Pre-Apocrypha happy or calmer memories are few and far between. Not in an angsty boo-hoo kind of way. But simply that's how our brains work sometimes for survival - they either latch onto the worse or block it out. For him it's the bitterness, the worse - dragon cult bullshit over family and friends - if he had any, he doesn't know anymore. Though he doesn't really agonize over this. How can you if you don't know?

Also returning to memory accuracy - well, the mind holds on to the strongest emotions, but that emotion can also alter the truth of the event. So how much does he claim is true is actually true? 👀

Anyways, next topic: a life stuck out of time.

Rarely knows the exact date, let alone seasons or years. Books offer little help since those that haven't been written on Nirn yet can still be found on Apocrypha anyways.

Body stuck out of time, in stasis/stagnation basically. Rarely eats as his body doesn't need it. While not necessarily needing it, still sleeps occasionally to offer his mind some rest. (If you've ever had severe insomnia, you'd understand how maddening it can get just being awake too long.)

Doesn't really drink alcohol often as his mind and body are what he has left to himself - to an extent, considering Mora's claim on him.

When learning of how long he's been alive, but his body doesn't require much in Apocrypha, Lilliandra presents an unsettling question: If he'd return to Nirn, finally outside of Mora's influence, would his body be okay or would the thousands and thousands of years rapidly catch up to his body and it'd simply return to bones?

He's never considered such an option, nor does he enjoy thinking of it. He's always had the goal of getting out of Apocrypha. He had not thought there would be consequences to getting out as there were already enough consequences to joining Mora and fleeing to oblivion. (Why do you think he was attempting to gain so much power during the DLC? It's not just to return to Nirn, but in hope the power reduces any consequences of returning out of time.)

does this make any sense? I dunno. my brain is fried.

okay, bye

[sickiehugs]

Hi hello dumping a thought and running!

Sickfic where the sick person feels bad (kinda tired/achy and off) but doesn’t clock it as being sick until it’s accidentally discovered that they have a fever and they’re like oh. Huh. Actually that might explain some things.

Those things?? Best in the entire universe. I would read 10,000 of that exact scenario and eat it up every time.

(Brought to you by a YouTube video I saw of someone cooking meat and being like “checking that the temperature is right with this temperature gun, funny little bit where I check all the camera people’s temperatures to see if it works haha :)” and my whump brain immediately making the windows start up noise)

That’s all have a good day bye

i hope you have a good day too bc this is amazing,, my sickfic heart enjoyed this very much,,

[aberooski]

Fuck it.

Random Yugioh GX headcanon dump!

I've posted about some of these at various points in the past in more detail but yknow 😌

All in no particular order of course, just the order they pop put of my brain lol

Syrus is actually really smart, but school is hard for him because of anxiety

Alexis is the spitting image of her and Atticus's mom

Jesse's favorite song of all time is Our Song by Taylor Swift

They're all varying degrees of Swiftie

Crowler's favorite show is The Golden Girls

Jaden will accidentally burn down the kitchen if they let him try to cook anything

Syrus, Alexis, Atticus, and Zane all knew each other pre-series. Or at the very least knew of each other since Atticus and Zane were already friends.

Syrus is afraid of storms but actually really likes gentle rain

Bastion was always insecure about his skills and needed and craved validation and recognition from others

Chazz has a hard time expressing and understanding emotions and distinguishing different kinds of love and care because his family is so emotionally distant with each other

Chazz and Alexis are platonic soulmates he's just confused by the platonic part. They love each other but are not in love with each other.

On that note, when Chazz is able to finally move on from Alexis, they develope and almost brother/sister relationship

Alexis suffers from separation anxiety and paranoia after Atticus returns because she's so scared of him getting hurt or being taken away from her again

Jaden is so protective of his friends because he didn't have any as a kid after the whole Yubel debacle even though doesn't remember Yubel for a while so he desperately wants to keep the ones he has now at any cost and keep them from getting hurt because people have been hurt because of him Yubel in the past and doesn't want to go through that whole rigamarole again. Also because he just loves his friends, but that's a given.

Syrus has a scar from being bit by the duplicate Camula in episode 32

Chazz has scars from being abused by his brothers. Only Atticus has ever actually seen them.

Hassleberry has chronic pain because of his dinosaur leg that he hides so the others won't worry about him

The J-Squad never told Hassleberry about a lot of stuff that went down in season 1

Atticus is uncomfortable in the dark and has trouble sleeping when he returns so he sleeps with at least one light on every night

Atticus's positive and silly personality and quirks and eccentricities are all genuine and authentic, but they've also become a coping mechanism for his trauma after his return

Hassleberry is a massive Dolly Parton fan

Hassleberry's seen every movie Dolly is in. Steel Magnolias makes him cry every time.

Syrus doodles on stuff in class and like on his notes and homework and stuff. It's something he does to help him focus and think

Bastion actually really likes classic movie musicals. His favorite musical is My Fair Lady

Chazz says that he has a dog at home in the dub, but it's the family dog. He's more of a cat person.

Atticus, Chazz, and Alexis are a Sun, Moon, Star trio respectively.

Hassleberry and Chazz are the biggest hopless romantics, actually

Both Crowler and Alexis's favorite movie is Titanic

Atticus can play any and all stringed instruments. If it has strings, he can play it. But his best instrument is the guitar.

Atticus hosts weekly campfire jam sessions for the J-Squad down at the beach. He pulls out an acoustic and just plays songs for them to sing and have fun together

On that note, every single one of them can sing. All of those kids have vocals for days.

Chazz and Atticus have sleepovers dates every Saturday night where they get together and watch movies. Atticus usually picks and makes Chazz watch musicals and romcoms and chick flicks.

Chazz actually enjoys musicals, especially watching them with Atticus. Hence his quoting Bye Bye Birdie during his duel with Adrian.

Atticus's favorite movie is Singin' In The Rain

Atticus does a lot of dumb shit in attempts to impress Chazz or otherwise get his attention

Syrus takes more after his and Zane's mom, while Zane takes more after their dad. Hence her saying Sy's the one who got the looks 😌

Jaden doesn't even know what sexuality means let alone what his is. His sexuality is Jesse.

Jaden's mom is a pianist

Chazz's family is all sooo much older than his is. For example, his brothers are at minimum ten years older than he is.

The worst familial relationship Chazz has is with his brothers. He's his mom's favorite, and he just doesn't really have a relationship with his dad at all. Cold, distant rich old businessman dad y’know?

Chazz wasn't necessarily an accident, but I don't think they planned on having another kid so long after the first 2 either.

Chazz's brothers manipulate their parents' perception of them and their relationship with Chazz so they don't know how bad things actually are with the three of them

Jaden thinks it's really silly and fun that his and Chazz's birthdays are the bookends of the month of August since they're rivals and stuff

Chazz has naturally cold hands

One time after graduation the kids got Crowler a father's day gift kind of as a joke. But it made him so happy they get him a group gift every year. They got him a world's best dad mug

Everyone crashed the next year's graduation so they could see Hassleberry graduate number 1 in his class 🥺

That's all for now!

Part 2

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Random question for more worldbuilding, because I’m currently worldbuilding stuff regarding the domain of water (oceans and stuff like that), and I got curious so…

You have any worldbuilding involving flora and fauna located in the ocean? Large creatures, tiny plants, spices, valuables like minerals or sunken stuff, architecture, boat economics (probs not that) etc?

I, again can start (why does that wording tone sound arrogant to me? Agh, think it’s cause I’m excited to share and the brain tone? Why am over explaining stop-):

Crab people, or as my only title I have so far,“Crusher-claw syndrome”, which essentially causes the individual to, like a lobster, have one regular or “stunted” arm and the other to be an absolute unit of an arm.

It ended up evolving from a syndrome to an entire species with their own lore and history and origin story for how they came to be and pantheon, but all of it spawned from me randomly thinking about some Chinese fable of an archer who had an elongated arm and, as a result, could draw their bow back so far they could pierce the hull of ships and sink them.

(Though I do think the “syndrome” could work for another thing of worldbuilding in building regarding incorporating biology and immunology in my magic system, which is an entire other circle of hell but it’s quite fun)

I do not even remember what the fable is called (pretty sure it was literally a yt short from a year or two ago), but yeah their story (which I’m not going to get into for length sake) is why water travel is extremely risky and dangerous if your doing on a boat larger than your average survival raft. But there is so much stuff about them that’s spawned since that if I were to go into depth, this ask would likely be longer than the Mariana Trench (exaggeration)

Also also slightly off topic, you ever worldbuilding a lot of things randomly, come up with one concept, and then all the pieces of the other disjointed concepts fall into place and develop it further? Like a puzzle? Feels good (also helps with organization)

ANYWAYS hope you’re having a wonderful day/night and are taking care of yourself and staying hydrated and all that jazz :]

-idk

Ps, lil nudge, I did send another ask a lil while ago but unsure if you got it and/or forgot about it. Absolutely no pressure just in case okay bye-

Okay, this is going to be a long one full of info-dumped lore, so I hope you enjoy it!

In short answer, YES! I have a whole aquatic-themed worldbuild made up for Falkradia. (There's even pictures this time for the animals! Courtesy of my AMAZING little sister who draws art for my stories a lot)

To start with, something SUPER cool about lakes & ponds on Falkradia is that every year during algae season there's a special type of bioluminescent algae that grows in the water and it glows when disturbed (it's a phenomenon in real life too if you'd like to check it out)

The difference between bioluminescent algae on FALKRADIA though is that it doesn't just glow blue like normal -- there are several different types/species of glowing algae, each presenting a different glow color. Most commonly found on Falkradia are pale purples and white, but glowing algae can also be shades of pinks & reds.

Generally speaking, the lighter the color is on the color spectrum, the brighter it glows. So purple algae wouldn't glow as bright as yellow would, for example.

While speaking of plants, there's also a plant found in the ocean right near the borders of the Falkradian island called "Shimmerweed". It looks like normal seaweed in terms of shape, but its surface is highly reflective, like a fish's scales. It is very flashy and bright in direct sunlight, and can even cause temporary blindness if you stare at it when sunlight hits it (think of how it would look staring at a mirror placed underwater on a sunny day. The effect is similar to that.)

Shimmerweed has medicinal uses and possesses unique properties that can speed up healing, so it's used as a medicinal pulp to spread on injuries to prevent infection and get them to heal up nicely. Since Falkry can usually use their own magic to heal, Shimmerweed pulp is normally for vetcare specifically and assists in healing wounded pets and companion animals.

There's also Snareweed -- a dangerous aquatic plant with long, thin leaves with microscopic little barbs on them that tangles anything that brushes against them, drowning the animal or wrapping fish/other aquatic life so tightly it can't breathe and dies. Then it slowly feeds on the body as it decays.

The barbs on Snareweed might be tiny, but they are great at snagging the fur of land animals who might be swimming in the waters they grow in. They exist primarily in rivers of any size, where animal traffic is relatively common as unassuming animals cross the rivers, accidentally brushing against the Snareweed and getting caught.

-------------------------------------------------------

Now, on to aquatic/marine animals. First of all, perhaps the coolest aquatic creature on Falkradia, is the Kaitagre (pronounced Kay-tah-gree). They look like some sort of reptile-amphibian mashup, to be honest. Their skin is smooth and scaleless, and they have a set of "false eyes" on their heads behind their real ones to scare off bigger predators (just like how some butterflies have huge eyespots on their wings)

They are extremely agile in water, comparable to a seal or an otter. They live almost exclusively underwater and use specialized gills on their neck to breathe, but they can also come on land for short periods of time (roughly 3-4 hours max) by "holding their breath" (just like how humans have to hold their breath underwater, the Kaitagre must hold its breath when coming /out/ of water to avoid suffocation, because their gills aren't designed to take in pure air without filtering it from the water like fish do)

Another distinguishable feature about them is the fin-like sail on their heads. It is bright and colorful, and used during courtship to impress potential partners. It can also be a threat display, meant to scare other Kaitagre off of already-claimed territory.

Below you can see pictures of what both genders look like. The female has a large sailfin that only protrudes from the head, whereas the males have a smaller sail that runs all the way down the spine and to the tail. You can also see the swimming fins on the legs are more rounded-off on the males.

-------------------------------------------------------

Next up: the Crystal Capern (pictures of this and the next two creatures are included below) They live and behave a lot like Plecos do -- they are suction feeders who eat algae. They have small fleshy tentacle-like structures around the mouth that act like a cat's whiskers would in helping them see and "detect" what's in front of them, and this feature is especially useful because these ocean creatures have absolutely terrible eyesight and can barely see a thing. So they rely mostly on their "feelers" to tell what's at the bottom of rivers and lakes and locate fresh algae.

Then there is the Striped Eel. Its black-and-brown skin pattern helps it blend seamlessly among seaweed and other plants in the ocean along with the mud of the ocean floor, mimicking the shadows naturally cast by the plants. They are ambush predators and hide in wait for passing fish before lunging out to strike and kill.

And lasty, there's the Caped Tark. It's a slow-moving filter-feeder that feeds on small organisms and waste floating around in the ocean. They are like funny-looking sharks, but are completely harmless.

[silksworn]

So first things first: only hot takes i want to hear. Full stop. You have made me think of nuances and grounded realities beyond my blorboifications that make me so so so much more smart and powerful and cool bc my brain meat has been enriched by ur hot takes

It is so easy to be like "nyahaha Wario vc I am going to write a villain!" And then they just come off as weird and cringe and like. Poorly written and thought out. But iraestra is so fucking cool, with so many layers. Still thinking about her turning to try to tell her sister about her latest discovery. Still thinking about how she was a MOTHER and she was going to have a LEGACY and she was a legacy in and of herself and now she's all that's left. Still thinking about how she thinks her family would hate her and be sickened by her for not resurrecting them with evil ass magic. How at least as I understand it, they would come back wrong (tm), but were they ever right in the first place?

She is so complicated, rhere are so many aspects and motivations inside her to keep track of, and she beautifully stays true to the lore and themes of the game! Its so unique to have a villain companion! And you are so GRACIOUS plotting with us bastwrds who are too anxious to make the mean choices in video games. (Im gonna do it for minathra now tho, u have shown me the light.)

Ur writing is evocative, and it is touching. I feel a pang in my chest thinking about all those things about ira, and the way you have written them

And her voice is so clear and she is so competent. Like a really good villain, and ur also a really great imrover, and person to talk to and and and

Bye lol

!!!!!! crying because this may be just about the nicest thing anyone has ever said about my writing & portrayal of characters. Thank you, from the bottom of my black little heart. And I'm also glad that you enjoy listening to my silly little rambles borne of obsession with actively making characters the Worst that they can Be. I AM SO INTENSELY FLATTERED that you think so highly of Iraestra!! and that you remember so much about the random lore I just dump on the dashboard from time to time. You're soooo right about 'come back wrong but were they ever right in the first place?' (the answer is no and you worded that BEAUTIFULLY, my friend!). Part of her resents & hates her family & is glad that they are gone as much as she feels a failure for being so utterly unable to do anything about it, despite being the next in line to be Mother Matron. You are just about the 3rd person I've convinced to play Minthara's route, at this point I'm pretty much unstoppable :3c She's good fun and I've personally rather enjoyed the 'evil' route of the game, but I understand and respect why for many players it's too hard of a decision to make. I've been writing villains for a while now too, but I'm sooo relieved to hear that I do so successfully. I'm going to pin this letter to my fridge, slap a gold star on my forehead, and probably cry about it. I've read this over 3 times now and I just -- You are a delight to know and so sincere and enthusiastic in everything you do. And so passionate about your characterization and headcanons! You're such a friendly person to have on the dashboard, I'm glad we're here in this rpc at the same time <333333

[gaeauranus]

Hello evil people

Hello evil people, this is my not so formal introduction, I am GaeaUranus, they/them he/him (sometimes), men enjoy, U support women's right and wrongs, I am not a native english user and will definitely play with the language to points of incomprehensibility , I'd call myself an artist, what kind exactly? yes, just not music, this blog shall be the place for me to dump my brain out after the tragic death of my notes document

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・゜-: ✧☾　☽✧ :-゜・.■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

I will be an unhinged mess of thoughts here, expect to see:

-writing

-poetry

-art

-oc

-anecdotes

-big boy rants and infodumps

-too much mythology

-fandom stuff you know , the usual things

-opinions

-just any thoughts

-no really i will not hold back

-ok maybe a little

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・゜-: ✧☾　☽✧ :-゜・.■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

the main fandoms I would consider myself a part of are:

-epic

-splatoon

-stardew valley

-minecraft

-arcane

-hades

-pokemon

-steven universe

-actually just most musicals

and casual in:

-percy jackson

-mcu (exept if bucky is involved)

-scott pilgrim

-overwatch(I am sorry)

-hilda

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・゜-: ✧☾　☽✧ :-゜・.■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

so yeah this is me, the evil gremlin under your bed, I will most likely die at some point, but fear not I shall be risen, and yeah, live laugh slay I guess, bye

[maiyokoyama]

Maybe you should seriously document

I think back on times I truly wish I understood what I felt and what I was going through, during specific moments of my life and sometimes if I'm lucky I'll be able to see that documented in my journals or my blogs

BUT USUALLY NOT! what the hell?

It's strange, because I keep my thoughts, my journals and my blog so private. So what am I not being more raw, emotional, VULNERABLE in my writings?

Like I think back on my eating habits from 2021 when I was miraculously able to drop 20 pounds like it was nothing. HOW DID I DO THAT? what was I feeling? Or maybe the months preceding my summer of 2022, did I truly feel uncomfortable in my body? I have memory of it being so as well as video documentations of unhappy body checks BUT WHAT WAS I REALLY FEEEEELINGGGG!!

So let's start today. Vulnerable style. I'm the highest weight I've ever been in my life, (153 pounds) and am crippling with insecurity at every moment. I feel strange, almost like I'm sad but not really? It's weird, when I'm left with a moment for myself or put in a situation where I'm reminded of something I don't have (love, money, good grades etc) I get realllllll down in the dumps. But otherwise I'm living on auto pilot. Sorta.

I'm nervous for this summer, I really don't want to get my hopes up in any capacity. I just really need to be skinny in order to enjoy it.

ok what else... I'm trying my best to recount my thoughts and emotions not my life events.

I'm still trying my best to de centre myself from guys. GOD it feel pathetic that I have to admit that I'm trying to do so at all. But it's the truth. I'm Ami and I'm obsessed with male attention!

I'm also trying to figure out if I have a crush on a certain British blonde at the moment. It's confusing. Definitely. I don't know if she ever felt the same so it's redundant to figure it out at all.

I'm feeling pathetic about my ex boyfriend finding a girl friend less than a year after we broke up. Not over the fact that I want him back but the very fact that he did it before me. Stupid? oh I know

but god, he's such a serial dater! And the worst part is it's not on his own accords, he's not actively seeking it—it just unfairly comes naturally to him. GOD I WISH I WAS A GUY

I'm trying to diet pretty strictly right now, eat 1350 calories a day. Not drinking too. I haven't cut out any food group or nothing jut trying to eat little. I want to feel confident and pretty this summer. Truly, I also am trying to read more this summer. I just am about to finish Giovanni's room but don't know if I've fully grasped it.

I've got two essays to finish in the next week. GOD I AM SO DUMB FOR NOT DOING IT EARLIER

I'm scared for summer, I'm scared to see a certain past conquest (blondie with the weird music taste). I really am going to distance myself from him and detach myself from him. My attachment to him over the winter break is what made it so terrible and I don't want that to happen this summer either. I gotta knock it in my brain that its really embarrassing that everyone knows I'm into this guy meanwhile they also know that he'll never be into me because he's still in love with his ex girlfriend. That just makes me look pathetic. and I am not that. Never.

I've been doing a lot of talking to myself in my bed, giving myself a pep talk. And as weird as it is I think we should keep doing it. Remind myself that this summer I want to be the very best me, away from everything

ok I don't want to type anymore I have work at space vintage again tomorrow (ew)

bye

[trans-tastic-blog]

ADMIN REVEAL!

01.03.2025 2:42 PM

As part of the new year, I decided to see what being offline and out of touch would do for my creative practice, which seems backward to then make this blog. BUT my point in all of this is I've found it distrusting to myself that when I look for inspiration I go to my phone, I look through my saved posts on Instagram or I go to a Pinterest board I have created. To me, this feels like I'm not actually making things unique to my experience but am just filtering current and already made pieces through my own brain and ripping them off. (that's being harsh but to a sense it is how I feel) This is kind of how everyone does it nowadays. Nothing is "original" and trends are created by multiple designers taking one idea and doing it "in their own way" and bam you got a trend.

So through this experiment, and in turn this blog, I want to work on processing my own experiences, my day-to-day, research, and realizations of myself, into the inspiration of my work. This already has also left me with... a lot of downtime and in turn, a lot of wall staring. (It's literally been like 1 day and I'm feeling all sorts of things) My hope is that this blog can be a place for me to process as well, and share pieces of my day that I find inspirational.

So here's my idea of what might happen, idk it's an experiment, let me lay out my plan, and create a hypothesis. Because science!

This blog will be a place I come to write, about my day, what things caught my attention, share photos of things I saw and enjoyed, and yes probably share pictures I feel fab in to fulfill my selfish desire for attention (though honestly who the fuck is gonna read this).

My hypothesis: I'll first feel lost, annoyed, and probably spiral. Not knowing what to do with my time, and feeling like I need to fill it with other mindless activities. BUT pushing past that I'll find myself being a bit more present with my time. As I continue to grow and navigate my creative practice I want to deepen my knowledge of my history and culture. Actively finding books to read, events to go to, workshops, classes, etc. All these things can help me work towards better using my time.

That wasn't really a hypothesis but I think you get the gist of what I'm trying to say. This will be my digital diary, like a true dweeb, where I can dump everything that makes up my life. And I think by creating the idea of an audience, or just the fact that this feels like I'm talking to someone or something will help create some accountability.

Okay that's enough of my rambles... here's a photo of me, today on my way home from getting groceries when I realized I should do this and felt I looked disheveled in a hot way, hence the name.

BYE

[getsillyyyy]

Redoing this because I don't like my first one

Hello! You can call me pinkz, pinky, or Benny! My favorite activities are drawing, listening to music, roleplaying, and staring at my wall(/j)

I absolutely LOVE talking about my ocs because they are just so silly! My favorite ocs right ATM probably has to be Randy and or noodles!

I love when people info dump on their ocs and let me info dump about mine! It makes me SO happy and I will be kicking my feet and giggling the entire time

If someone's oc is rotting in my brain for long enough I'll draw them 🥱

I'm a yapper if you couldn't tell ‼️ I won't shut up about something unless I run out of things to say to it (which is why I over explain things) I also have ADD/ADHD

I'm always up for anything unless it's actually fucking weird- you know what I'm talking about!

Favorite movies:

House of 1000 corpses

The fnaf movie(it's fnaf)

Shows:

Rick and morty

American dad

Super jail

Occasionally Steven Universe

Games:

Fnaf

Minecraft

Roblox

Animal jam

Fandoms:

Creepy pasta (I've been in this one the longest and I don't plan to leave any time soon! Most of my ocs are based on here but they do hop fandoms. After some stuff happened none of them are considered creepy pastas)

Slender verse(my favorite is everymanhybrid‼️I need to finish it, I'm only in like 9 (?) episodes- idk I need to go look)

Super jail(my favorite character has to be Alice! I don't mention this one a lot 🥱)

Sally face(this is a fandom I keep getting pulled back into. I've had more.. Questionable experiences in this one back in 2021-2022

Bands I enjoy listening to that I can remember by name is ICP and Slipknot! Other than that it's pretty scattered. I'll listen to anything that isn't jazz/classical music or sad music (only one song but it's because in my eyes it's good and doesn't seem that sad)

DNI LIST ‼️

people who infantilize characters. (Seriously, you're annoying if you do this. One of my ocs were infantilized A lot by other people because they had arm sleeves and couldn't talk properly. There's no reason to do this to people with disabilities man. He was raised by an animal cult, HE'S NOT GOING TO SPEAK PROPER ENGLISH AND BE A FUNCTIONAL MEMBER IN SOCIETY. It's gotten so bad I made it cannon he's babied and she HATES it. I'm ranting 😭 mb, (summary) It's just really annoying and makes me want to pull my hair out)

Zionist

Ablest

People scared of women with body hair, emos, or scene (I'm not changing my characters because you don't like it :3 I didn't ask for your advice so respectively keep it to yourself)

Homophobes

Transphobes

pedos(blocked.)

Zoophiles(BLOCKED)

people into Alfred's play house. (I heard it's a bad fandom with a lot of romanticized SA, I don't want those type of people interacting with me or my content.)

Ect!

That should be all for my little introduction post. Bye bye!!

Anyone else who is problematic!

[curly-snoot]

tw: discussion of behavioral euthanasia 

My brain is melting a little bit from the smoke, but I had a convo with a volunteer this morning that got me thinking again. I had this volunteer come into my office and we were discussing a dog, and she mentioned that this dog was so nice, friendly, and then said, “Sam, we can’t euthanize this dog.” I had problems with this statement, mostly because the thought of having to euthanize this dog had not crossed my mind at all since his intake, his reported behavior in home and in shelter were not that concerning. I wondered where she got this idea that staff were considering euthanasia for him.

The second reason this bothered me was the general culture and ideas around behavioral euthanasia in the shelter that fuel this sort of statement.

Typically, when I believe the most humane and safest outcome for a dog is euthanasia, it is because the dog has shown behaviors that make them dangerous for the general public. So, when I go in to our animal welfare meeting to say that I believe we should elect to euthanize an animal. When the other members of the committee agree with me, the main emotion I feel is relief, amongst other emotions. Relief that a dog that I believe is dangerous now will not be able to harm anyone. If the other members of the committee “disagree” with me, the primary emotion I feel is anxiety. Anxiety that I, either, am placing a potentially dangerous dog in the community, or that I am condemning a dog to months of being warehoused in a kennel while their QOL declines.

So, I think the organizations that have high live release rates almost tend to go too far in the opposite direction and be a little bit more “save them all” and will avoid euthanasia at any and all costs even if the cost is another person’s safety.

I think instead of saying, “We have to save these dogs, we can’t euthanize them, we just can’t.” Instead we should be asking ourselves, “Is this animal safe for the average adoptive home? What happens if management fails with this animal? Is the animal’s quality of life poor? Is this animal’s behavior predictable?” I want animal welfare organizations to focus on placing good pets and not on “save rates”.

[hyaciiintho]

❀ || As I’m sure some of you have noticed, I’m slowly making a return to here  ♡ I’ll more than likely start clean and just do new threads (I do that all the time, I know, I’m sorry pfft~) but I mostly want to get specific things done first before diving in too hard into the rpc again. I’ll see how I do trying to reply to what I have right now in my drafts, but-- no promises, so I apologize!

For the things I want to do, specifically it’s re-write rules and create card pages for everything instead of relying on tumblr’s constantly breaking code gfdjklhg but to simplify it: 

- I’ll probably be sticking to shorter threads, and if they become longer the more it goes on, then cool. But otherwise... I need something to hook me into an actively going thread so I can become invested. My attention span has gotten worse over the years, and I just need some more fast-paced interactions to keep me hooked!

And that’s really about it honestly pfft~ I hope others can be patient with me as I try to get back on my feet. I’ll give more IRL updates below the cut, but aside from that... I hope everyone has a lovely day and has been taking care of themselves!  ♡ ♡ ♡ If anyone really wants to keep anything we had, just let me know, otherwise it’s just up to my silly little brain to determine what I want to keep pfft~ Okay, I love you, bye-bye  ♡

Psyche, it’s time for the IRL info dump whoo !!

Just a lot of adjusting and battling with my brain. It’s hard to commit to things and start on others once you’ve fallen off the wagon, so it’s been an incredibly hard battle trying to get back into the swing of... anything, really! It’s tough! 

I did catch The Plague™ in December (I felt awful around the 20th) and now I’m still feeling the after effects. I jokingly said wow I hope this doesn’t awaken the secret asthmatic in me haha and it really does feel that way honestly pfft~

Aside from that, 2022 has just been a whirlwind of up’s and down’s, but I’ve been working through it and moving passed it. I’m hoping 2023 turns out to be a more productive year for me, so I’ve been trying to make a schedule for myself to try and accomplish that... with how my brain works though, it’s been harder than it really should for a person, but I’m doing my best  ♡ Trying to get back into streaming and getting more of a variety of things done (like not play the same game every night and actually play the other games I have that I have yet to touch and still have wrapped in plastic)

And also make time for friends I don’t usually get to hang out with and talk to and play games with. It’s sucks because I know it’s an awful feeling of being like... scheduled to hang out with, like it’s an appointment or something, but man, honestly, with how I function? It’s amazing I get even the bare basic functions of my own life handled without collapsing and wanting to sleep for 7 years :/ 

Social stuff and online stuff... hobbies and activities... work... all of it is so draining and I don’t think people really understand how hard it is to even just go to work and come home and then make dinner for myself. I hyper focus on one thing (work, mostly) and then get nothing else done the rest of my day. So this scheduling thing is really the best I can do to try and fit everything and everyone I care for into my life... it’s the best I can do, and I’m sorry about that, but I am trying.

Kind of why doing smaller replies on tumblr for rp would be best for me too. I just really can’t keep my focus on these things, and I want to enjoy writing and rp, I just cannot sit here for 2 months waiting on a long ass reply that isn’t going anywhere and still have that huge drive to drop multiple paragraphs in turn. I am patient, I do not rush anyone because I do not like to be rushed in turn. This is just the trend I’ve found myself falling into, because I write so much and get so much in return-- that we both need so much time to get the energy and drive to write a bunch for our replies, that I just... fall out of interest or drive when that reply comes in because I’ve been waiting too long for my brain’s liking. It’s not because I don’t want to reply or don’t want to write with you. It’s just my brain loses the drive and suddenly that exciting thread is less exciting, more like work. I don’t want that. So I’m doing my best to fix that  ♡ 

2023 is the designated year to try and improve myself in every aspect  ♡ as a person, in my outlook, inside and out-- Just improvements all around. The quote I’m living by is “Romanticize your life more; There is magic in every little thing. You just have to look hard enough.” So that’s what I’m trying to do  ♡ 

This was a lot, so I’ll stop rambling pfft~ I hope everyone has a lovely day, take care of yourselves, and if you read all this?? You’re insane-- but also thank you, and I give you well wishes  ♡ ♡ ♡ Okay... back to work I go!

[meltingheartsandcores]

This is just something that came from a different story I’m writing, so, it’s just a one shot. And it’s not really editted (sorry). 

 This is A/B/O, with Omega wwx and Alpha lwj, but honestly it doesn’t really show up much, like it’s not a focal point of the story for the most part, it’s just kind of, there. There’s minor NieLan, and past wangxian with hopeful future wangxian (hopeful future IMO), and it’s modern non cultivation!

 Other than that, enjoy? And if you have questions feel free to hop into my inbox.

It had been years.

Five, to be exact.

Wei Wuxian wouldn't lie and say Lan Wangji never entered his mind, he did almost constantly. But he had long accepted he would never see the Alpha again. Lan Qiren had made it rather clear he was to never contact Lan Wangji again.

That hadn't been a pleasant conversation. Well. Argument.

For once Wei Wuxian was glad he was no longer in contact with the Jiangs, even if it wasn’t for long, he'd hate for them to have been involved. He's not entirely sure who's side Madam Yu would've been on, but he hoped she would've been on his. Although, if she was, he's not entirely confident Lan Qiren would still be walking around. Lan Qiren might be a hard ass, but he had nothing on Madam Yu.

He should write Nie Huaisang. See how the Jiang's are doing.

"Are you alright?"

Wei Wuxian blinks, brought back to the present, silently filing the idea to write Nie Huaisang for later, and looks up at Lan Xichen. Who he had just run into. Literally.

Wei Wuxian ignores the hand and stands on his own, "Perfectly. Just distracted. Sorry to bother you." Wei Wuxian says, nodding and turning, deciding he could get A-Yuan's candy later, after the milk. He had made it a few steps before Lan Xichen grabbed his arm. Wei Wuxian tenses, snapping around with a glare on his face before he registers that Lan Xichen isn't going to attack him. Not physically at least. So he lets the glare fall. "Sorry."

Lan Xichen drops his hand, "No, I should not have grabbed you. I apologize." An apology from a Lan. Maybe he died.

A-Yuan would be heartbroken. A-Yu probably doesn't know what Death is and probably wouldn't understand for a few years.

Lan Xichen was talking. Wei Wuxian should be listening, not thinking of his death. Lan Xichen smiles, as he normally does, "You were not listening."

"Sorry. My brain drifts, it pissed your uncle off to end, remember?" Wei Wuxian says, shrugging.

Lan Xichen nods, "Uncle seemed to anger easily around you, yes. I was wondering if you had the time, we could talk. Perhaps over tea?"

He can't ask for alcohol instead. For one, Lans don't drink. For two, he has to pick A-Yu and A-Yuan up in half an hour.

"I have a half hour, I guess we could finish up shopping and go to the Starbucks down the block." Lan Xichen's eyes tighten at the mention of Starbucks, which makes Wei Wuxian remember the heavily disturbed and deer-in-headlight look Lan Wangji had when Wei Wuxian dragged him there. Repeatedly.

Lan Wangji never seemed to get used to Starbucks.

None of the Lans seem to like it either.

Lan Xichen nods though, so Wei Wuxian does a U-turn to grab the candy he promised A-Yuan and then made a bee-line for the two other things he was missing. He loses Lan Xichen at some point, but when he gets to the check out, Lan Xichen is waiting by the door with a bag.

Wei Wuxian smiles at the Cashier, Mingyu, who seemed slightly concerned for him. But Wei Wuxian waves off the concern, even when Mingyu decides to ask, "Is he a friend or should I call security?"

Wei Wuxian considers this, Lan Xichen isn't a friend, but security isn't necessary. Wei Wuxian grins when he comes to a response, that's both honest and fun, "He's Daiyu's uncle." Wei Wuxian informs, finishing with his payment and taking his items. "See you in a week Mingyu!" Wei Wuxian calls as the other man is clearly trying to figure out how he hasn't met this uncle until now.

"A friend?" Lan Xichen asks as they walk down the road.

"Eh, more I'm a regular." Wei Wuxian shrugs. He only talks to Mingyu when he buys groceries. Not much other reason to talk to the teenager.

Especially since he tends to remind Wei Wuxian that, uh, he is only twenty-two.

That's not something he particularly likes to remember. Especially when he's on his way to pick up his kids. He looks older enough that none of the other parents comment on him being A-Yu and A-Yuan's brother, and none of them comment on the utter shame of having a child at seventeen. And presumably fourteen if A-Yuan was actually birthed from him. As he so often jokes, especially after A-Yuan learnt where babies came from.

A-Yuan thinks it's funny.

Wen Qing thinks it's stupid.

But it's meant to entertain the eight year old so it's not a problem.

"So you live around here." Lan Xichen comments, more to himself than to Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian has to mentally curse himself. For five years, no Lan has known where he lived. No one from that life knew where he was except Nie Huaisang. And for all he can be a coward, Wei Wuxian knows he wouldn't have given away his location to anyone.

But he just confirmed to Lan Xichen that he lived in this town.

Fuck.

"What're you doing here?" Wei Wuxian asks, opening the door for Lan Xichen and gesturing for the man to enter the Starbucks. Lan Xichen gives him a tight smile and enters, clearly not liking being inside the store.

Tough. Wei Wuxian doesn't want to be having this conversation, neither of them get to be comfortable. Wei Wuxian follows Lan Xichen in, walking up to the register and ordering a drink with a smile before turning to Lan Xichen for his order. Which he gives with a tense smile. The barista nods, repeats the order back and then Lan Xichen pays, because this was his idea and Wei Wuxian would much rather be at home right now.

They amble over to a table to wait for their drinks to be made. Well. Lan Xichen got his at the till since it was just a Green Tea, but they have to wait for Wei Wuxian's. Might as well get this chat over with.

"The Nie have a lakehouse a mile out of town." Oh right. Oh fuck. "Mingjue and I are having a little vacation." Lan Xichen says in response to his earlier question.

"And you came to get some groceries."

"Just a little. Mingjue will be back for the rest." Lan Xichen winces when he sips at his tea, clearly not liking it. He sets his cup aside, "You know, Huaisang seemed very against us going to this partical vacation house."

Oh for fucks sake. "Huaisang's specialty isn't subtly." Wei Wuxian says with a shrug, then stands and gets his drink when the barista calls out his name.

Lan Xichen waits for him to sit back down. "No, it isn't. Might I ask, why Huaisang knows where you are when no one else does?"

"I don't like the Jin. I don't want to burden the Jiang. The Lan want nothing to do with me." Wei Wuxian shrugs, "Nie Huaisang is the only friend I have left." Outside of the friends he now lives with. Wei Wuxian sips at his flat white.

Lan Xichen's brows twitch in a furrow before smoothing out, "What do you mean we want nothing to do with you.

Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow, "Was there a part of Lan Qiren's order that was unclear?"

Wei Wuxian's response only seems to confuse him further. "I believe, there has been some miscommunication." Lan Xichen suggests politely.

"Not really." Wei Wuxian refutes. "Lan Qiren told me to get the fuck out and never contact any of you again. Not much room for miscommunication."

"He said what?" Lan Xichen asks, sounding light and a little confused. But Wei Wuxian had spent enough time around Lan Wangji, and hence Lan Xichen since Lan Xichen was Lan Wangji's favoured company, to know he was getting very pissed off.

Huh.

Wei Wuxian shrugs, too little too late, in his opinion. It's been five years. "It was shortly after I left the Jiang, I went to stay with Lan- Wangji." Wei Wuxian catches himself before using the familiar address. Lan Xichen seemed to catch the slip up too. "Just for the night. The departure went a little more explosively than I meant for it to, I came to spend the night. Lan Qiren told me to leave and never return, that Lan Wangji wanted nothing more to do with me. Not to contact anyone in the family. Obviously I argued, but I had already argued with Madam Yu and Uncle Jiang that night, so, he won. I left. And then a week later he sent me two hundred thousand Yuan." That wasn't a pleasant night to remember. It wasn't a pleasant week. He found out he was pregnant, then the Wen shit happened, and he was moving across the country with Wen Ning and his family. Wei Wuxian shrugs again, drinking his flat white.

Lan Xichen's brow furrows slowly, and he shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Uncle told us nothing about this. All Wangji and I have known is that you left the Jiang and disappeared. Wangji certainly didn't say anything about not wanting your company anymore." Lan Xichen seemed offended at the very idea.

Oh.

Huh.

Lan Wangji doesn't hate him.

Oh fuck.

Lan Wangji doesn't hate him.

But he probably will. When he tells him about A-Yu.

Fuck.

"Is everything okay?" Lan Xichen asks, making clear that Wei Wuxian's panic is clear on his face.

"Um." Wei Wuxian swallows, twisting the paper cup in his hands, "In theory. If, uh, when I left, I had been uh," No. Nope. He can't think of a good way to say this. He checks the time. "Uh, do you have twenty minutes?"

"I'm supposed to meet with Mingjue in ten."

"Great. Uh. Meet me at the park with the giant octopus sculpture in fifteen, bring Da ge, I need to drop my groceries off at my house." Wei Wuxian doesn't wait for Lan Xichen to agree, picking up his groceries and hurrying out.

When he gets home, he dumps the groceries on the counter, giving Wen Qing a quick, "Lan Xichen's in town and he's metting A-Yu and A-Yuan, see you in fiften minutes. Thanks bye!" before running back out, not responding to her shout of 'what' that followed.

When he gets to the octopus sculpture, he doesn't have to wait long fo Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue to show up, thankfully. He bounces over to them, the nervous energy coursing through him a little too much to keep still. "Hi Dage."

"Wuxian." Nie Mingjue greets, as if Wei Wuxian hasn't been off the grid for five years and was still popping into his house every other weekend to do weird shit with Nie Huaisang.

Nice to know somethings don't change.

"What is it you wanted to show us?" Lan Xichen asks politely.

"Um, this way." Wei Wuxian takes them to the school, which was only a few minutes away.

"A school." Nie Mingjue deadpans.

Wei Wuxian looks at the other parents waiting, a few of them looking back at the group with furrowed brows. One of the mothers makes a very harsh 'come here' gesture, so Wei Wuxian turns to Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen, "Uh, I'll be right back. Don't move." He was clearly confusing the pair, but they nod so he rushes off to Mrs. Yang.

"Is that Daiyu's father? Other father?" Mrs. Yang demands, almost glaring at Lan Xichen.

"It's his older brother." Wei Wuxian corrects with a tight smile. "Please don't go yell at him."

"Oh, his family decides it's okay for you to raise a child for five years on your own, and I shouldn't yell?" Mrs. Yang demands, already gearing up to go.

"Uh, I'm, about to tell him Daiyu exists."

Mrs. Yang blinks, clearly taken aback. "Wei Wuxian." Wei Wuxian flinches at her tone, oh no. He's in trouble. "Did you not tell the Alpha family you were pregnant?"

"In my defence," because he needed one if he wanted to survive, "their uncle had already told me their family wanted nothing to do with me before he found out I had gotten pregnant. I don't think that opinion would've been changed in my favour. Given we were seventeen, and unmated."

Mrs. Yang hmphs, but nods. "Fine. But if he seems anything less than overjoyed, I'll be having words."

"Yes Mrs. Yang. Thank you." Wei Wuxian says, nodding. He meant it. Mrs. Yang was one of the more supportive parents. Like Granny Wen she had more or less started treating him like family.

It probably helped that her eldest was only two years younger than Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian smiles and then hurries back to Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue as the elder grades started to be let out.

"I'm sorry, do you babysit?" Lan Xichen asks, clearly very confused. Nie Mingjue doesn't seem to be much better.

"Uh. Sometimes." Wei Wuxian shrugs, "Not today." His answer only served further confusion, but he wasn't paying much attention to the pair. Instead to his incoming missile.

"Xian-gege!" Wen Yuan yells, and Wei Wuxian picks up the eight-year old as the boy had launched himself at Wei Wuxian.

"A-Yuan! My, I think you've grown!"

Wen Yuan pouts, "You saw me this morning gege! I haven't grown at all!"

Wei Wuxian shakes his head, "Hmm, nope! You've grown a full inch! I know it."

"No! A-Yuan hasn't grown at all!" Wen Yuan counters, pouting more deeply. Ah, not in the mood to be teased today. Okay.

"Ah, ah yes. A-Yuan is correct." Wei Wuxian agrees, and puts A-Yuan down. "A-Yuan, this is Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue. They're old friends." Wei Wuxian introduces.

Wen Yuan was half through a bored wave when he actually looked at Nie Mingjue and his eyes utterly lit up. "You're so tall!"

Nie Mingjue barely blinked, very used to this reaction, but he seemed delighted at A-Yuan's very prescence. "Yes." Seeing as A-Yuan was practically vibrating, Wei Wuxian gently encourages him, and really that was all that was necessary before A-Yuan was attached to Nie Mingjue's leg and asking a million questions a minute.

Nie Mingjue seemed amused, and politely answered every question he caught.

With A-Yuan distracted, Wei Wuxian looks around the schoolyard for his other charge. Normally Daiyu would be attached to his leg by now. He finally spots her hiding by a tree, or, behind a tree. Her eyes widen when they meet his, and he waves her over. She hesitates, but eventually decides to come over. She walks, and then runs the last little bit, entirely hiding behind Wei Wuxian's legs, peeking a little to look at Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue.

Lan Xichen had frozen.

As expected, given Daiyu's golden eyes.

"Daiyu, this is Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen is your Bobo." Daiyu seemed very doubtful of that, making almost the exact same expression Lan Wangji did when Wei Wuxian had tried to convince him necromancy was a perfectly viable career path. Wei Wuxian would like to be offended. "I'm telling the truth."

"I thought Baba's family didn't want anything to do with us." Daiyu counters, doubt clear.

Ai. Who told her that? They didn't but still. "Who told you that?"

"Qing-jie."

...Ok. Wei Wuxian wasn't going to yell at Wen Qing for telling Daiyu that. Even if he wanted to. He was going to call her a liar.

"Well, she's wrong." Wei Wuxian crouches, turning to pick Daiyu up before standing straight. "It's complicated, and something I'll talk to you about in private. But Lan Xichen hasn't been able to be around until now."

Daiyu narrows her eyes but shrugs, "Fine." She didn't sound fine. But Wei Wuxian was not about to argue with a five year old. Not in public.

"Ok. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, this is Wei Daiyu."

"Hi."

"Hello."

Daiyu looks at Wei Wuxian before responding, "Hello."

Well. This was awkward. And Lan Xichen looked like he was about to faint. "Why don't we go to the park?" A-Yuan seemed all for that idea. A-Yu looked like she'd rather not but when Wei Wuxian put her down she ran with A-Yuan toward the park. Wei Wuxian lead the adults in following after them.

While the kids played at the Octopus park, Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen sat down at a bench, as Wen Yuan had dragged Nie Mingjue into their game.

"You were pregnant."

Wei Wuxian nods. "Lan Qiren didn't know. I, didn't know, until a week after that argument." Wei Wuxian shrugs, "I took Lan Qiren's words to heart, and didn't contact Lan Zhan about her."

"But you told Huaisang." Lan Xichen states.

Wei Wuxian blinks, "Huaisang doesn't know. I only talk to Huaisang for updates on the Jiang." And other things, but, mostly the Jiang. Once or twice Lan Wangji, but not all that often. He probably wouldn't take it well if Nie Huaisang sent back that Lan Wangji had gotten married.

"You, didn't tell anyone?"

"Nope. You're the first person outside of this town that knows." Wei Wuxian shrugs, and Lan Xichen just, stops. Wei Wuxian worries he's broken him, but soon enough Lan Xichen shakes his head.

"I can't- Apologies, this is a lot to process."

"How do you think Lan Zhan will react?" He's expecting anger. That's what some of the other omegan parents tell him to expect, whenever he considers sending Lan Wangji a message about Daiyu. No Alpha ever takes a pup being kept from them well. That's what they always say.

Lan Xichen's eyes widen, then he winces slightly, "I imagine, you are the not the one to worry about Wangji's reaction." Eh? "I'm sure he'll be happy. Saddened to have missed her first few years, but happy none the less."

Wei Wuxian opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure how to phrase his question before giving up and just asking, "Is he with anyone?"

Lan Xichen blinks and turns to look at Wei Wuxian, confused for a moment before understand dawns and he shakes his head slightly, "No. Uncle has tried for arrangements, but Wangji refuses them all. but I'm certain if you contact him, he'll be happy to see you." (Lan Xichen does not mention that he's rather confident Lan Wangji will immediately run to Wei Wuxian's side and help in raising Daiyu if Wei Wuxian even hints that that is what he wants. That seems a little much for right now.)

Wei Wuxian nods, not entirely believing that, but not willing to argue. "Now I just have to get Daiyu to come around." He did not expect his daughter to be the stickler here. Then again, Wen Qing had made her opinion on Lan Qiren years ago and wasn't quiet about it.

"She's aware of what Uncle said?" Lan Xichen asks.

Wei Wuxian shakes his head, "Uh, my friend, Wen Qing, yeah, that Wen Qing, I'm living with her family, long story, anyways, Wen Qing knows, and she holds very unfavourable opinions about it and she's not quiet about them. So, even if Daiyu doesn't know the full story, Wen Qing has given her enough to go on that she's formed her own, unfavourable opinion." Wei Wuxian shrugs, he couldn't really argue against it. Up until half an hour ago, he was rather confident the Lan's hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.

Now he has to explain a five year misunderstanding to his daughter.

Fun.

“I have to tell Wangji what you just told me.” Lan Xichen states, clearly not looking forward to that conversation.

Wei Wuxian shrugs, “It’s Lan Zhan, he’ll make a displeased face and not talk for a week.” It wasn’t that big of deal. Lan Wangji doesn’t do grudges, not really. At least, he didn’t five years ago.

Lan Xichen’s face was pure pity, which Wei Wuxian didn’t understand but it was gone before Wei Wuxian could formulate a question. “Do you want us around or shall we leave you alone?”

Oh. Wei Wuxian hadn’t considered that. “Um, maybe leave us alone for tomorrow? I guess I can give you my number and, if A-Yu is agreeable you guys can hang around. If it won’t mess up your vacation.” Because, who wants to spend their vacation with their little brother’s ex and daughter?

“That would be wonderful.” Lan Xichen says, pulling out his own phone and letting Wei Wuxian type in his number. Wei Wuxian then texts himself so he’d have the number on his phone too. “We should be getting back, I believe Mingjue wanted to stop by the butcher and they close at five.”

“Yes, they do. Because he needs to eat supper and spend time with his kids.” He kne Changpu, he was nice. Stodgy, but nice.

Lan Xichen nods and stands up, walking over to the playing trio and speaking quietly to Mingjue, he bids goodbye to the children, before the pair start walking away, they wave goodbye to Wei Wuxian, which he returns, and then they disappear.

Then, Daiyu runs up to him, “A-Niang, does that mean A-Die doesn’t hate us? Will he come live with us? Will we see Xi-bo a lot? Are they going to live with us? Like Granny and Uncle Four?”

Fuck.

Upon returning to the cabin, Lan Xichen’s day wasn’t going any better. Nie Mingjue was cooking supper, so Lan Xichen was alone with the decision to call Lan Wangji about Wei Wuxian. Obviously, he would. How much to say though?

Wangji, as it turns out, would make that decision for him.

After exchanging greetings, Lan Xichen barely got out, “So I ran into Wei Wuxian today in the city near where Mingjue and I are vacationing.” Before the call was dropped. Lan Xichen blinked, staring at his phone where it said ‘Call Ended’, meaning Wangji hung up on him. Lan Wangji hung up without a word. Without letting Lan Xichen finish. He was never so rude. He normally at least made a sound to indicate a goodbye. Nie Mingjue laughed at him when Lan Xichen explained why he was so flabbergasted.

Lan Wangji showed up the next morning.

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

Is She the Reason? - Part 3

Parts: 1, 2

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader, Nestor Oceteva x Black!Reader

Summary: Angel, Nestor. Nestor, Angel. Girl....what the hell you gon’ do now?

Warning(s): Aaaangst, a fluffly bit, a confrontation, but aaaaaangst. This is the angst series :)

Word count: 2,508

AN: I uh...I did a thing. After this there is only one part of this series left. Comments, questions, and concerns are always welcomed. Okay, bye. Love y’all xo

TAGLIST:   @holland23567 @trulysuccubus @pearlkitten33

You were at the salon getting yourself a downright sickening blowout. You could feel how silky the hair was and you were happy for a change. You didn’t wanna do something so drastic like chopping your hair, but you needed something new. 

“You finessed the hell out of my hair. Thank you so much Shonda.” You smiled at your longtime hair stylist.

“You know I got you, girl.” Shonda smiled back, still running her fingers through the hair and slinging it over your shoulder. She noticed you looking at your phone, “You got a hot date with that fine ass Angel?”

You felt a tug on your heart at the mention of him. “Nope. We aint together anymore and no I don’t want to talk about it.” You got up out of the seat and placed the money she owed plus a tip on the vanity.

“Oh, uh okay. I’ll see you next time!” Shonda called out to you as you practically ran out of the salon to avoid any further questions about you and Angel.

You breathed a sigh of relief at being outside and away from the possible interrogation that would have happened if you stayed there longer. You were ready to casually talk about your breakup with others. You were not over it. 

The familiar smell of delicious Mexican food wafted through your nostrils as you reached your lunch destination for the day. You walked in and saw who you were looking for already at a table.

“Hey Nes.” You greeted the man with a smile that turned into a giggle as he stood up from his seat and pulled you in a big hug, lifting your feet off the ground a little. “Put me down.”

“I’m just happy to see you, mi cielo.” Nestor murmured, letting your feet drop back down to the floor and leading to the table.

“Oh don’t start sweet talking me.” You laughed, taking a seat.

“Ain’t no one sweet talking you. I can if you’d like me too. I see you with the straight silky locs. You trying to impress me?” He teasingly asked as he sat across from you.

“Boy, please.” You scoffed, taking a look at the menu.

“Good. Cause I’m already impressed by you.” He replied in such an earnest tone, it caused her to stop looking at her menu to meet his eyes.

The look in his eyes made her pause. He was staring at you so intently that you were relieved when the server came to get their orders. You had no idea what to say to him. Nestor really was a nice guy. He was fine, secure, and had yet to disappoint you. You’d been relying on him a lot over these last few weeks. He’d kept you company, wiped your tears, and made you laugh. He showed up every time he said he would, but what did that mean? 

It wasn’t until after you two enjoyed a hilarious and delicious lunch together that you felt ready to broach the subject. You two were standing in front of his car saying your goodbyes.

“You’re a great friend and I appreciate you so much. You know that, right Nes?” You asked him, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“Of course, cielo.” He responded, his hands on your hips. 

He pulled you in for a hug and you hugged him tight. When you two pulled back, he leaned forward as if to kiss you and you buried your face in his chest. Nestor instead held you tightly again and placed several kisses on your exposed neck. The kisses make you shiver and you pull away again to look at him.

“Nestor..” You begin but get interrupted by his phone going off.

He checked his phone and pulled further away from you. “It’s Miguel. I gotta go, but call me later okay?” He placed a kiss on your forehead and then he was hopping in his car and speeding away to meet Miguel wherever.

You just stood in the same spot he left you, staring at the tail lights of his car until you can’t see them anymore.

xxxxxxxx

The “alliance” between the Mayans and the Galindo Cartel was a precarious situation from the very beginning. Things had grown more tense with the dissolution of Y/N’s relationship with Angel and her blossoming friendship with Nestor. Meetings between the gangs had an added uneasiness with Angel glaring at Nestor and Miguel’s bodyguard not giving him any energy back.

It had been two weeks since the diner and Angel could not get those images out of his head. Angel was waiting for the right opportunity to address Nestor. Where the fuck does Nestor get off having his hands all on you? Yes, Angel knew you were mad at him, but that doesn’t mean he was ready to see you with anyone else especially someone associated with fucking Galindo. He wanted him to stay away from you. 

The opportunity presented itself when Miguel left the meeting with his other guards, leaving Nestor behind to complete a different task. The Mayans had all turned to head back into the clubhouse but Angel stayed behind and walked up on Nestor.

“Aye!” Angel barked out at Nestor’s retreating form as he walked up on him. “What are you doing with Y/N? I saw y’all the other day.”

Nestor turned around and stared at him for a minute before saying, “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“You heard me. Why are you sniffing around her? She’s not gonna be with you. She still loves me.”

“Oh she told you that? Then why aren’t y’all still together huh? Cause y’all aint together right now right? Right?” Nestor asked, staring Angel down. Angelcito would be even more upset to learn Nestor just came from lunch with you, but he wasn’t about to gloat out of respect for you.

“Yeah but-”

“And whose fault is that?”

Angel was silent. He knew it was his fault. He didn’t need to be reminded by the likes of Nestor. As the man went on, Angel found himself getting angrier and angrier. His hands balling into fists.

“So let me get this straight: you fuck some random bitch so Y/N dumps you and now you in my face because you fucked up and lost her?” Nestor stared at Angel and chuckled. How pathetic could he be? The audacity of the Mayan to tell him anything was laughable. “Own your shit, homes. Don’t worry about what I’m doing.”

Angel couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed Nestor by the shirt and pushed him up against the car. “Stay the fuck away from her.” He barked, voice harsh and loud.

The commotion must have gotten someone’s attention because the Mayans poured out of the clubhouse, pulling Angel off Nestor who only laughed and straightened his shirt.

Bishop tried to apologize for Angel but Nestor waved him off, still laughing. “I’ll give him that one. We can chalk it up to emotional distress at his recent loss.” He goes from speaking to Bishop to looking Angel dead in the eyes. “But if you put your hands on me again I’ll blow your brains out and leave your mangled body at your pop’s front door, comprende?”

Nestor was in his car and gone without another word. Angel just watched him go, before turning to look at EZ. EZ could tell from the look on his face that he was planning something and he just hoped it did not backfire and make things even worse.

xxxxxxxx

“Open the fucking door!” You screamed, banging your fist against the locked office door. You couldn’t believe you had gotten played like this. “Whoever is on the other side: EZ, Coco, Gilly, or even Letty when I get out of here I'm gonna hurt you.” You threatened, but the door remained closed.

You had received a text from Chucky asking you to stop by the garage to look over some contracts with him. You had the day off so it was no big deal. When you walked in the office you were not greeted by Chucky but instead a pensive Angel. Obviously this had been a set up. 

“It’s not getting opened until I say the magic word.” Angel explained from the chair he had yet to move from. He was completely relaxed and his sentence just confirmed what you already knew: he set this whole thing up.

“Oh so it’s you I should hurt, then?” You turned around from the door and crossed your arms as you stared at him. “Why would you do this?”

“I needed to see you.”

You scoffed. “Angel tell them to open this door right now.”

“No.”

“No?” You angrily walked to the desk and swiped a paper weight off the desk that you chucked at his chest, hitting him square on the collarbone.

“Ow! Shit.” He groaned, rubbing where the weight hit him. 

“I will throw everything on this desk at you. Let me out.” You threatened once again and he stood up from the seat. He walked around the desk and every step he took, you took one backwards.

He was approaching but you wanted to keep some space between the two of you. It wasn’t until you backed into the door that you realized he was just getting you away from the potential weapons on the desk.

“Okay fine.” You threw your hands up in defeat. “Fine. Let’s talk Angel. What would you like to discuss?”

“Your hair looks nice. You’ve never worn it like that before. You look beautiful.” He complimented.

“Thanks.” You were wound up so tight as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

“I bet Nestor likes it too.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mention of Nestor. “Why are you bringing him up?”

“Just heard you two have been hanging out.” He tried to nonchalantly mention, but you saw right through that.

“I know you’re not jealous. Please fuck right off with that. If you want to talk about Nestor, this conversation ends now.” You were not about to get into a discussion about Nestor with Angel. It wasn’t his business and also you weren’t even sure what was going on. The last time you saw him was at lunch earlier in the week.

Angel was silent for a moment as he debated with himself. “Do you miss me? Cause I miss you.” He asked, staring at you.

“No.” You tried to keep a bored look on your face.

“You really don’t miss me at all, querida? You don’t miss us?” He implored, taking a step closer to you.

It was quiet as you two simply stared at each other. He was waiting for an answer and you were fighting with yourself to keep quiet.

“Of course I miss you, you selfish asshole!” You finally exploded. You missed him every damn day. The situation was hard enough but he made it worse by just not leaving you alone. “Doesn’t mean I want or need to be with you. You don’t understand that I can’t trust you Angel. I refuse to torture myself by being with you and worrying what you’re doing every second of the day.”

“I want to earn your trust back. You tell me what you want me to do and that’s what I’ll do. Starting right now. You want me on my knees? What’s that Temptations song….I aint too proud to beg right? Call me David Ruffin.” Tears filled your eyes as you listened to him. This was the Angel you fell in love with. All earnest good intentions with a side of sarcastic asshole that you found irresistible. “Give me something, Y/N. We can’t just end like this. I can’t accept this. I know it’s my fault, but I can’t let you go.”

“You have to! I just..I can’t Angel. You hurt me so fucking much. I can’t go back. I won’t let you do it again. I won’t.” You began shaking your head as the tears poured down your cheeks. He shattered your heart with his actions and selfishness. You would never put yourself in that position again. And yet, your traitorous heart still yearned for him.

Angel had tears in his eyes as he watched you break down. He took your face in his hands and wiped your tears. “Oh, querida. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated apologies and sweet nothings over and over again as he held you close.

After crying for a moment, you raised your head and looked up at Angel. “Sorry just isn’t enough.”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to make it better. So he did the only thing he could do. The thing he’s been wanting to do for almost two months and he kissed you firmly on the lips.

You froze at first before gripping his kutte tightly as he pinned you to the door. The kiss was sloppy, passionate, and everything you missed about being with you. He kissed you like a man who knew exactly what you liked and he did. You both pushed all of your pent up feelings into that kiss.

He got your legs spread and wrapped around his waist as he pushed you even harder into the wall. You grinded against him as you two continued to explore each other’s mouths.

The pounding on the door broke you two out of the haze of emotionality and lust you’d lost your head in.

“Angel! Get out here! Now.” EZ called out through the door. There was an undercurrent to his voice that made you pause. What was going on?

Angel was content to continue kissing you, but you pushed him away and let your legs hit the floor again. You fixed your hair and wouldn’t look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N…” Angel began, but you ignored him as you opened the now unlocked door.

When you stepped out Angel was right behind you and he bumped into your back as you froze, after seeing who was on the other side of the door.

EZ was the first face you saw and then you noticed Coco towards the back of the room. Behind EZ stood a strange young guy next to a familiar face you hadn’t seen in awhile.

Adelita

You hadn’t seen her since that fateful day. Your blood turned to ice as you looked at her now. Did she know Angel had a woman when they began their affair? Would it have made a difference had she known? You give her a once over, trying to figure out what made her so damn special. What was so good about her that he’d break his promises to you? What made her better than you?

It wasn’t until the other woman shifted in her stance that you noticed the hand she had placed over her stomach….over a slight bump that was only just becoming visible.

You stopped breathing.

Adelita was pregnant.

[earliebirb]

for better or for worse

My dearest friend Alle ( @iam93percentstardust​ ) sent me this prompt a lifetime ago. I’m sorry for taking such a long time, but this fic turned into a 5K fic (which is longer than anything I usually write) because my brain kept giving me Ideas. Alle, I know this is probably not what you expected, but I hope you enjoy reading it anyway.

for better or for worse

steve/tony, au: no powers, hurt/comfort, getting back together, 5815 words

(54 from this list)

Tony wakes to the sensation of his head pounding and his ears ringing. He groans, stirring on the bed and burying his face into the nearest pillow. 

The ringing persists and Tony squeezes his eyes shut, willing the noise to go away and—

Oh. That ringing is his doorbell. Someone is ringing his doorbell. 

Tony sighs, glancing at the clock on his nightstand before groaning again when he realizes that it’s ten minutes to seven. In the morning. What kind of lunatic is visiting him at this hour?

He gives himself a couple more seconds to stay on the bed, cursing his own self for being awake. For a brief moment, he is tempted to just ignore whoever is standing on his porch in the hopes of making them eventually go away. 

The doorbell rings again and he lets out another long sigh. Slowly, he sits up on the bed and immediately regrets the decision to do so as all his muscles start aching all over, the kind of all-encompassing pain he only gets throughout his body when he is really, really sick. He feels like crying from the pain. 

The second he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked, however, he instantly freezes. His blood runs cold, adrenaline numbing his pain for the moment, his senses alert in shock.

Quietly, he gets to his feet, heart pounding in his chest. God, this is the worst time to fight off an intruder. Not that there is ever a great time to have someone illegally entering your home, but it’s early in the morning, and he’s sick, and alone, and—

“Steve?” 

Steve jumps, turning to face him with his blue eyes wide in surprise. Either Tony is sicker than he thought or Steve is really standing right there, a few steps away from the front door, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Tony. I’m— Sorry. I tried calling you but I think your phone is dead, and I tried ringing the doorbell but—”

Oh. It really is Steve. With the threat of imminent danger gone, immense relief and pain ambush his senses simultaneously.

“—you didn’t answer the door, so I used my key. I’m so sorry. I know it’s really early in the morning, but I was about to leave for a meeting and I tried to do a final check of the blueprint of the exhibition only to find the file corrupted. The only other copy I have of it is the hard copy I had left here, so I—”

Tony’s knees feel weak. He frowns as he squints, because why are there two Steves in front of him? 

“—panicked and I drove all the way— Tony?”

Tony tries to take a step forward, but he wobbles unsteadily. The floor is moving, and the walls are spinning, and oh wow look at the ceiling—

“Tony!”

***

When Tony comes to, his ears come around before the rest of his senses. 

His eyes are still shut. As he slips in and out of slumber, he manages to catch snippets of someone’s voice in the distance. 

“...Yeah, um, I’m actually calling to let you know that I won’t be able to make it to the meeting today…”

“...I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’d leave if I could, but I can’t…”

“...Family emergency. We’ll just have to postpone the meeting, or I can just send scans of the blueprint via email, and have Peggy handle everything…”

“...Okay. Just give me a call and let me know…”

Everything is silent for a while. When Tony’s eyes eventually blink open, he finds himself back in his bed, his body tucked under the covers. The door of his bedroom is ajar and Tony stares at it uncomprehendingly, his brain still struggling to make sense of his current situation.

As if to answer the questions floating around in his brain, the door opens inwards and in walks Steve, a glass of water in hand. He pauses when he sees Tony staring back at him. 

“Oh, you’re awake. Good.” Steve smiles. He pads over and sits down on the edge of the bed, setting the glass of water down on the nightstand. He cups Tony’s elbow carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Tony blinks. So that wasn’t a dream? Steve is really here. 

“Why are you here?” Tony croaks. Steve’s face does something complicated at that before eventually settling with another smile, soft and reassuring.

“Don’t worry about that right now. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Tony answers honestly, sniffing and grimacing at his unpleasantly congested nose. The lopsided smile Steve gives him sends a wave of longing so strong, it feels like a kick to his heart.

“I figured,” Steve says, voice hushed. He opens his mouth to say something else, but his phone rings right that instant. Steve fishes the phone out of his pocket and holds it up to his ear.

“Hello? It has to be today? Okay, don’t panic. It’s going to be okay. I know, I know. I told you, I can’t. I really, really can’t.” For some reason, Steve’s gaze flits briefly to Tony at this before drifting away. “I told you, Peggy knows the blueprint inside and out. We’ll just have to leave it up to her. Tell the rest of the team I’m sorry, okay? Uh-huh. Right. If we get a second meeting, I’ll join you guys then. Okay. Mm-hm. Alright. Thanks a lot, Sam. Bye.”

“Do you have to get to a meeting?” Tony asks as he watches Steve slip his phone back into his pocket. 

“Are you warm enough? Do you need more blankets?” Steve asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he assesses Tony’s condition.

“No, I’m fine,” Tony says, runny nose turning his voice nasally. He sniffs a few times. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you have a meeting today?”

Instead of answering Tony’s question, Steve leans towards the nightstand to grab some tissues and proceeds to hold them under Tony’s nose.

“Blow.”

Tony leans back with a scowl, putting some distance between him and the tissues. “Steve, seriously, do you have a meeting? You don’t have to—”

“Blow your nose, Tony,” Steve says firmly. He stares at Tony, gaze unwavering.

Tony sighs before doing as instructed. He blows into the tissues until his nose feels relatively clear. Something stirs in his chest at the way Steve takes all of it in stride, not showing even an inkling of disgust at Tony’s sweaty and snotty state.

Then again, he supposes that’s the kind of immunity you develop after two years of marriage.

Would be three in a few months, if they didn’t—

Well. It’s probably for the best, right?

It has been a month since Steve moved out and his foolish heart still refuses to relinquish the sliver of hope that maybe—

Tony closes his eyes.

The fight they had had been of massive proportions, the biggest to date in their relationship, and when Steve suggested that they take a break—Tony still wonders if he was sparing Tony’s heart by avoiding the word “divorce”—Tony quietly agreed to it, no matter how much he hated the idea. Steve ended up moving back to his old apartment, an hour away. 

He didn’t want to imprison Steve in the house—in the relationship—if he didn’t want to be with Tony. 

After all, Tony can only keep Steve for as long as he wishes to be kept. 

“Go to the meeting, Steve.” Tony watches as Steve continues to dab at his nose with the ball of tissues, his hand careful and gentle. Even after blowing his nose, his voice still sounds nasally. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’m fine, I promise. You don’t have to stay.”

“Drink.” Steve hands him the glass of water, staring him down until he drinks the water. He downs the water in a few gulps under Steve’s watchful gaze. After he finishes, Steve takes the glass from him and sets it back on the nightstand. He glances at the clock, all the while ignoring Tony’s disapproving stare. “Have you taken any meds?”

“No. I thought I’d just sleep it off.”

Steve lets out a sigh, looking disappointed but not exactly surprised. He walks out of the bedroom before returning with a simple peanut butter sandwich and some pills. He gives out strict orders for Tony to have at least a few bites of the sandwich before taking the meds and then proceeds to clean up the pile of tissues scattered all around Tony, dumping them into the trash can. After that, he disappears into the ensuite bathroom for a moment. Tony hears the sink running.

By the time Steve emerges from the bathroom, Tony has eaten half of the sandwich and taken his meds dutifully. After confirming the evidence of Tony’s actions with his own two eyes, Steve looks satisfied.

“Okay. Go back to sleep.” 

Tony frowns. “I just woke up.” 

For a minute, Tony thinks that Steve is going to argue with him again, but he just hums and makes his way to the other side of the bed. He slips under the covers beside Tony and reaches for the TV remote.

“What movie do you want to watch?”

“Steve, please. You don’t have to do this. I know—”

“Sci-fi? Or do you want something lighter? A romcom, maybe?”

“—you have work to do, so—”

“You hate being alone when you’re sick,” Steve interrupts, eyes on the TV screen. “And you’re terrible at taking care of yourself, especially when you are sick. I know you, Tony. I know you’d just end up skipping meals throughout the day because you don’t have an appetite.”

Tony pauses. Steve is still staring at the TV, but he is no longer scrolling through the list of available movies.

“You’re… not wrong,” Tony allows, “but you really don’t have to.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come earlier if I’d known.”

“What— Of course I didn’t.” Tony shakes his head, incredulous. “After all, this doesn’t have to be your responsibility, considering we’re on a—” —break. 

The sentence is completed in his head, but Tony can’t seem to let the last word fall out of his mouth. Steve seems to hear it anyway, if the way his jaw clenches is any indication. 

Tony clears his throat and breathes through the persistent pounding in his head, inhaling through his mouth. 

“Just go, okay? I’ll be fine, Steve, I prom—”

“I won’t be.”

“What?”

Steve finally turns to face him and takes a few long seconds before meeting his eyes, blue eyes tired and resigned.

“I’m the one who won’t be fine, leaving you here all sick and alone.” Steve’s mouth twists into a small smile, wan and bittersweet. “I won’t be able to stop worrying. Won’t be able to work, or go about my day, or…”

A beat. Steve inhales a tremulous breath, blue eyes wavering as they hold Tony’s gaze. “Won’t be able to stop thinking about you.”

Steve looks down at his own lap, fingers grabbing a fistful of the comforter. Silence stretches out between them. Sitting quietly like this, Tony can almost pretend that nothing has happened, that this is just another normal day of Steve waking up in bed next to him. Married and in love with no threat of divorce looming on the horizon.

Of course, that is before he catches sight of Steve’s bereft ring finger.

Then his heart leaps to his throat and he feels his stomach dropping like a rapidly sinking anchor. He wonders how long it has been since Steve’s ring finger is empty.

He wonders if he should start taking off his own, too. He wonders if Steve wants him to take it off. He feels a visceral pain in his chest just at the mere thought of the ring leaving his own finger, a sharp twinge that has nothing to do with him being sick.

Steve swallows audibly. “Just because we’re on a… break, it doesn’t mean I stop caring about you, Tony.”

Tony clenches his jaw and finds himself wondering if Steve would continue to care about him if they ended up separating for good.

He doesn’t ever want to find out the answer to that question. His eyes dart down to Steve’s ring finger again and he has to inhale to keep his nausea at bay. 

Steve takes a deep breath before turning to face Tony again. Although he is facing him, this time Steve’s eyes are nowhere close to meeting Tony’s, lingering somewhere in the vicinity of Tony’s chest instead. The bright blue of his eyes has become muted, something heavy and wistful diluting its luminescence.

“So you’re right. You’ll be fine without me, but I won’t be. So please, let me stay.” Steve’s eyes flit down to the bed, lightning quick, and the moment they flit back up, he does meet Tony’s eyes. “For my sake.”

Tony swallows, feeling like a hefty weight is sitting on his chest, suffocating him. He has to look away to catch his breath. 

Staring at the TV screen, he says, “Love Actually.”

Steve recognizes the acquiescence for what it is, and turns to the screen, smiling. 

“Love Actually it is.”

They lie quietly in bed, side by side. Despite being sick, Tony feels content in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. He ends up falling asleep somewhere during Colin Firth’s character's awkward meet-cute with a lovely Portuguese woman.

***

Hours later, he wakes up to an empty bed. 

Steve didn’t stay.

He blinks quietly and tries to swallow down his disappointment. It’s a good thing, he tells himself. Steve is busy enough as it is, of course he’d leave after making sure Tony is okay. 

The first thing he realizes when he sits up on the bed is the fact that he feels a lot better than he did in the morning. His nose is still congested and the dull throbbing in his head is still there, but at least his muscles and joints don’t ache as much anymore.

His mouth tastes like something has died inside of it, though, so he makes his way to the door, intending to grab himself a glass of water, and—

Steve is still here. 

He is dressed in something more comfortable now, having exchanged his long-sleeved, form-fitting shirt for one of his own sleep shirts and his jeans for a pair of sweatpants. When Steve moved out of the house, he hadn’t managed to take all of his clothes with him.

Tony would probably never admit this even on pain of death, but he is grateful for that. There have been many nights—most nights—since Steve moved out where he would sleep in one of Steve’s sweaters or shirts. They are all too big for him, but they make him feel safe and comfortable enough to fall asleep because the truth is he has been finding it near impossible to fall asleep without the warmth of Steve’s body pressed up against him. 

Steve is standing by the stove, his back to Tony, stirring a pot of something that is bubbling away nicely.

A stray piece of memory floats into Tony’s head, unbidden. It presses at the corners of his mind, demanding his attention. It is a recollection of a defining moment of their relationship, dated sometime during their first year of marriage. 

Tony had been doing something similar, trudging out of the bedroom one morning and finding Steve in the kitchen instead of at work, where he should be.

At Tony’s perplexity, a fond smile had bloomed on Steve’s face. Tony remembers that it had been snowing outside. Bathed in the late morning sunlight and clad in a cozy-looking, broken white cable-knit sweater that complimented his blond hair beautifully, Steve’s figure had glowed golden.

Behind him, eerily similar to today, there was also a pot of something steaming sitting on the stove and a delicious smell had wafted around the house. 

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. Of course I’m going to stay in and take care of you. Look at you, you can barely stand up straight.”

Tony had blinked and realized that he had been leaning on the bedroom’s door frame for support. “Don’t you have that meeting today? With that… that British man. The gallery owner.”

“Rescheduled meetings are a thing, sweetheart. It’s not the end of the world,” Steve had said, chuckling lightly as he padded over to tuck his arms around Tony’s waist. “Besides, if Merridew does turn out to be an unreasonable man, there are plenty of other galleries in the world.”

Steve had said it so easily, so dismissively, as if it hadn’t taken years of hard work and months of careful persuasion for him to even get to the point he was at. 

“You, however,” Steve then whispered, voice low and sweet as he cradled Tony’s cheeks in his warm hands, eyes staring softly into Tony’s, “I have to take care of. After all, there’s only one Tony Stark-Rogers in the world. Well— The only Tony Stark-Rogers I care about more than anything.”

Tony had made an incredulous face in response, still finding the whole situation ridiculous.

Steve had laughed at Tony’s expression and leaned in to plant a kiss on Tony’s temple, uncaring of the fact that Tony was sick and gross, carrying an abundance of infectious germs.

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if my beloved husband succumbed to his sickness in the dead of winter due to my callousness,” Steve had said as he pulled Tony close, body pressed flush against him, chin resting atop Tony’s head. “In sickness and in health, sweetheart. In sickness and in health.”

“...Tony?”

Steve’s voice calling his name promptly breaks Tony’s reverie. Tony blinks and finds Steve gazing at him, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“Did you need anything?” 

For a few seconds, Tony finds it difficult to form an answer, part of his mind still lost in the memory of the past. Eventually, he manages. “I— Uh. Water.”

“Oh.” Steve proceeds to pull out a glass from the kitchen cabinet and pours Tony some water. He walks over, handing it to Tony. As Tony’s fingers close around the glass, Steve steps closer and presses his palm to Tony’s forehead. His lips press together in a thin line. Tony swallows audibly.

A few strands of Tony’s hair cling to his forehead, damp with perspiration. Using the same hand, Steve sweeps Tony’s hair back, simultaneously wiping the beads of sweat away. 

“Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute. Soup’s almost ready.”

Dazed, Tony nods before heading back to the bed as instructed. 

Steve shoulders the ajar door open a few moments later, carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming soup sitting on it. Quietly, Tony watches his every move. Steve bends down to put the tray on the nightstand, slow and careful. As he does, the pendant of Steve’s necklace—one that Tony has never seen before and just realized Steve’s been wearing this entire time—slips out from beneath his shirt, dangling back and forth from the golden chain hanging from his neck. Curious, Tony leans forward slightly. He squints at the pendant.

When he realizes what it is, his mouth goes dry.

Steve straightens and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. Now that the pendant is properly resting atop Steve’s chest, there is no mistaking what it is.

From a short distance away, Tony still recognizes the inscription that peeks out from the inner surface of the ring, the words written in his own blocky handwriting: To My Beloved.

Tony stares at it, frozen. A million thoughts are running through his head and it feels like he can’t hold onto any of them. Try as he might, he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. 

Steve had taken off his wedding ring, only to wear it as a necklace. 

What could this possibly mean?

“—ony. Tony?”

His train of thoughts broken, Tony blinks and finds Steve staring at him. One of his hands is already hovering midair, holding out a spoonful of soup. The other is situated right under the spoon in case of spillage. 

“You okay?”

“Uh—Yeah. Sorry.”

Steve continues to stare expectantly at Tony. Tony stares back at him and finds himself wishing he could read Steve’s mind.

Misunderstanding his silence for something else entirely, Steve raises the spoonful of soup slightly with an encouraging nod. “Don’t worry. I blew on it, so it’s not scalding hot, I promise.”

Just to further prove his point, Steve blows on the spoon again, careful and gentle before holding it up to Tony’s mouth.

Tony opens his mouth quietly to let the spoon into his mouth and lets the warm soup soothe his taste buds and throat.

A companionable silence settles over them. As Steve feeds him the soup until the very last drop, Tony takes the time to process his own thoughts. 

When he comes to a decision, Steve is already back in the kitchen. Tony can hear him doing the dishes, the clink of glass and ceramic accompanied by the sound of running water. 

Once again, he makes his way to the doorway of the bedroom. For a brief moment, he stands wordlessly, watching Steve’s back muscles work as he wipes the utensils dry.

As Steve places the last of the utensils on the dish rack, Tony says:

“Let’s have a kid.”

Steve freezes. Tension turns the line of his back rigid as he grips the edge of the kitchen sink.

“Tony—”

“I’ve thought about it, Steve. Let’s have a kid.”

Tony watches Steve’s shoulders rise and fall as he breathes. When Steve turns around, his expression is not at all what Tony expects.

For someone who had tried so hard to convince Tony to adopt a child with him just a month ago, fighting tooth and nail and disagreeing with Tony on every point, Steve doesn’t look happy or relieved.

Instead, there is something heavy in his blue eyes, in the sharp line of his clenched jaw.

Something that looks like heartbreak.

“No, Tony.” 

Tony’s heart sinks. He can feel his throat closing up, finding it difficult to breathe. He has done it now. He had wondered whether they could come back from this. He had wondered whether this fight would be Steve’s last straw.

Here it is, the answer, clear as day in front of Tony. He had tried so hard to convince himself that this was different. Steve would stay, unlike so many others that he had scared away. This time, it would be different.

He had believed it, too. That’s the worst part. 

Tony proves to be too difficult to love, even for Steve. Sweet and generous Steve.

He should have known this would happen. He should never have let his guard down. He should have—

“Tony.” Tony looks up at the sound of his own name to find Steve standing much closer than before. “Sweetheart.”

Tony lets out a sharp exhale, fresh tears blurring his vision as a stab of unadulterated pain shoots through him at the term of endearment. He hasn’t heard that word from Steve’s mouth in an entire month and it’s not fair, so incredibly unfair that the first time he hears it again after such a long time is when Steve is trying to break things off with him. Steve, ever kind, ever gentle, even when he’s trying to—

“We don’t have to have children, Tony.”

Tony blinks, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Steve stares back at him, his baby blues also brimming with tears.

“You don’t need to force yourself to become a father, if you really don’t want to, and especially not for my sake. I’ve thought about it too, Tony. And—”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Tony braces himself. Here it comes.

“—I realized that, as much as I want to be a father— As much as I want to adopt a child and raise them as my own… I realized that I really, really don’t want to do it with anyone else but you.”

Tony’s thoughts grind to a halt. When Steve exhales, it comes out in the form of a wet, desperate-sounding sob.

“I love you so much, Tony. So much. I love you more than— Anything. More than children. More than my desire to become a father. This past month we’ve been apart— It’s been hell, for me. We don’t have to have children, Tony. So, please, just— Can I come back? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving, sweetheart, I’m so—”

Tony pulls him into a kiss. Steve tastes of tears, his body racked by sobs, and Tony’s heart breaks. A turmoil of emotions wreaks havoc within Tony and his knees are weak with the sheer relief of having been granted the privilege to have Steve in his arms again.

When they break apart, Steve’s shoulders rise and fall repeatedly in an attempt to catch his breath. He stares at Tony with wide and searching blue eyes, wet lashes clumped together. 

“Tony?”

Tony looks down, clears his throat. “Sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I’m sick, and now you’re going to be sick, and—”

Pulling Tony in by his shirt, Steve joins their mouths together once again, showing exactly how much he cares about that particular line of reasoning. He kisses Tony like he can’t get enough, like he’s trying to steal all of Tony’s breath from his lungs and keep it for himself. 

This time, when they pull apart, Steve’s lips are slick and swollen, his face flushed. He is still looking at Tony like Tony is going to vanish into thin air any second. 

“You’re staying. I’m staying. No one’s leaving.” Tony wipes his thumbs through the tear tracks on Steve’s cheeks. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Steve nods. “Okay.” 

Tony leans forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s. He closes his eyes, feeling the puff of Steve’s unsteady breath hit his own lips. He takes both of Steve’s hands in his, giving them a squeeze. 

He takes a deep breath.

“And we’re having a kid.”

Steve stills. “Tony, I told you—”

“And I told you that I’ve had some time to think about it, too.” Tony leans back to meet Steve’s eyes, hoping his own eyes would be enough to convey the truth of his sincerity. “I’ve thought about it, and… You’re right. I do want to have a kid, I’m just scared. Really scared.” 

Tony watches the bob of Steve’s throat as he swallows.

“You know how my dad was with me, and I’ve told you repeatedly how scared I am that I’ll turn out just like him. Children are like sponges, you know? Blank canvases. They internalize stuff really easily and then they end up having issues. And then their issues have issues. Case in point.”

Tony gestures to himself with a bitter smile.

“Truth is, I still don’t believe I’m father material. I want a kid, but I’m still terrified of fucking things up.” He swallows, pauses to gather his thoughts. “But Steve, I’ve seen how good you are with kids, you’re such a natural. And I thought about what you said to me, that I won’t be alone in this. I’ll have you standing right beside me, every step of the way. And… I’ve also thought about how you seem to have such faith in me. Faith that I can become a good father. And I thought, that has to count for something. Your faith in me has to count for something, because… you know me better than anyone, Steve. Sometimes I even think that you know me better than I know myself.”

Tony looks down at their joined hands, nodding decisively. 

“So, I’ve decided.” He looks up, watches hope bloom in Steve’s azure eyes. “Let’s have a kid. Let’s build a family together, Steve.” 

Steve’s smile, when it comes, is beautifully blinding. 

***

Later, as Steve lies beside him in bed, Tony finds the courage to ask.

“Steve?” Tony calls, voice a low whisper.

Steve is lying on his side, facing Tony. One of his elbows is planted on the bed, hand propping up the side of his own head as he gazes down at Tony, eyes lingering and thoughtful.

His other hand reaches towards Tony’s face, brushing the back of his knuckles across Tony’s cheek before traveling further back, tucking a lock of Tony’s unruly hair behind his ear.

“Yeah?” Steve says. The soft glow of the nightlight sitting on the nightstand casts shadows across his face and illuminates parts of it in yellow light. It renders the lines of his face soft, the edges less sharp and defined. 

Tony swallows and averts his gaze, takes a while to let the words form properly in his mouth. Meanwhile, Steve cards his fingers through Tony’s hair in a single motion, looking at the dark strands caught between his digits like they are the most fascinating thing in the world. 

“It’s longer,” Steve muses. 

“Yeah,” Tony says, and then clears his throat when even that single syllable fails to leave his mouth properly. “It’s been a while. I need a haircut.”

Steve continues to toy with his hair, twisting strands of it around his fingers gently.

“Do you hate it?” Tony asks.

Giving Tony a quick shake of the head, Steve looks down at him with a lopsided smile. “I like it. I’ve missed it. Reminds me of your hairstyle when we first met.”

Tony blinks and swallows, pretending that the innocent statement doesn’t bring about a surge of warmth in his chest.

“What is it?” Steve asks, when Tony’s question doesn’t seem to come.

Tony thinks of brushing it off, considers swallowing back the question sitting on the tip of his tongue for a brief moment, but eventually he says:

“Why, uh,” Tony licks his dry, chapped lips, “why did you take off the ring?”

Steve’s fingers still in his hair. 

When Tony finds the courage to meet his husband’s eyes again, Steve is looking at him with wonder in his eyes. He pulls his hand back, away from Tony’s hair and toward the ring hanging from the chain around his own neck.

Steve hums in thought, fingers fiddling with the metal band. Tony watches Steve stroke the words engraved on the inner circumference of the ring with the pad of his thumb.

He pretends that Steve’s answer isn’t everything.

It takes entirely too long for Steve to present him with a reply, but when he does, it is one that is not even remotely within Tony’s realm of expectation.

“I took up pottery.”

“...What?”

Steve exhales through his nose, his lips pursed together in a manner that suggests he is holding back a smile.

“It’s fairly recent,” Steve says, eyes still staring at him with careful amusement. “I needed something to distract myself from constantly missing you. A friend from art school happens to own a pottery studio. She offered, and... I started taking pottery classes.” 

A knot unties in Tony’s chest.

“How did that go?” Tony asks, voice thick with emotion.

“Not very well,” Steve admits with a wry smile. “Still missed you something fierce.”

Steve holds his hand up, fingers splayed. Even under the dim lighting, Tony can still make out the faint circular mark around his ring finger, the small strip of skin a few shades paler than the rest of his hand. The sight of the empty finger still looks disturbingly wrong and Tony finds himself having to look away just to feel less unnerved.

“Does it bother you?”

“Huh?”

Steve wiggles his fingers, blue eyes staring at him, soft and curious.

“My naked finger. Does it bother you?”

Tony’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly. Yes is the honest answer that wants to crawl out, but Tony bites down on it.

“Uh, it’s— No.” Tony swallows, throat clicking and eyebrows furrowing. “It’s fine.”

After all, the last thing Tony wants to be is an insanely possessive spouse who obsesses about something as simple as a naked ring finger when the wedding ring itself is still hanging from a chain around his husband’s neck. Steve still carries it on his person at all times, just not on his finger.

Steve gazes at him for a long moment, quiet in thoughtful consideration.

Slowly, an amused smile starts to bloom on Steve’s face.

“It bothers you, huh?”

Steve has always been able to read Tony like an open book.

Embarrassment colors Tony’s cheeks. “I don’t— It’s okay if you want—”

“I like it.”

“I— I know. It’s fine, Steve. I get it. Besides, it’s too much of a hassle anyway, constantly having to take it off and put it back—”

“I like that it bothers you. Me not wearing the ring.”

Tony goes quiet at that, wide eyes blinking at Steve. His husband shrugs, smile unwavering.

“I like it when you notice little details like that,” Steve whispers, shuffling closer. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kinda like having you obsess over me.”

His hand cups Tony’s cheek, thumb stroking the delicate skin under Tony’s eye. “I like hearing how much I mean to you.”

Tony stares at him, emotions turbulent in his chest. He focuses on Steve’s eyes and the warmth of his palm against his face. 

Steve’s smile turns fond. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll wear it on my finger again, I promise. I suck at pottery anyway.”

For a while, they lie motionless in the quiet, gazing at each other. Steve leans close, eyes squinting. Tony feels the light scrape of fingernail on the skin of his cheek and Steve pulls his hand away to show Tony something that is sitting on the pad of his thumb.

“Eyelash,” Steve announces gleefully with a child-like grin. Carefully, he transfers the eyelash onto the back of Tony’s left hand. “Make a wish.”

Tony huffs, but proceeds to close his eyes obediently. After a few moments, he lifts his left hand up to his mouth and blows the eyelash away. 

When he opens his eyes, he is greeted by Steve’s curious stare. 

“What did you wish for?”

“You know the rules. If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

Steve narrows his eyes. Eventually, he relents, sighing in resignation. “Fine.”

He lies down properly, letting his head rest on his pillow before throwing an arm around Tony, pulling him close until Tony’s head is safely tucked into the crook of his neck.

“Get well really, really soon, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, pressing a kiss into his hair.

Tony lets his eyelids fall shut, reciting his wish once more in the private confines of his mind, hoping that it reaches the ears of whatever deity is watching over them:

Please let me keep him. Whatever happens, please let him stay by my side. ‘Til death do us part.

[shadesofmauve]

Writer Chat Tag game

Tagged by @swaps55. Thank you!!!

Tagging @virusq, @fenmere, @spaced0lphin if you feel so inclined.

What is your total posted wordcount on ao3?

292,540. But just you WAIT until the rewritten and expanded Sunset and Evening Star goes up.

Do you have a routine for writing?

When I was first writing A Star to Steer Her By, I was only working four days a week, so on Friday mornings I would sit down, gather all the pieces I'd jotted down over the week, and sew them together into a chapter. Since then I've developed exciting new health issues and switched to full-time work, so now I don't have a routine so much as a collection of Things That Work. To wit:

All writing is in google docs, because I can access it from all over, including my phone, so I can

Seize inspiration whenever it comes, play out the scene, and write it down. I've got a notebook by the bed and a water-proof notepad in the shower (THANK YOU, @swaps55, it's the BEST THING EVER). I'll stop partway through walks and write things on my phone. I will tell my boyfriend and occasionally house guests "NEED TO CAPTURE AN IDEA JUST A MINUTE BYE" and dash out of the room.

Write after dinner and before Bedtime Reading & Tea, IF I have the time and brain energy.

Revisit the outline once the chapter is done and record all scenes and important things discussed in them, because my memory has gone to shit and I'm in danger of leaving things out or putting them in twice.

Finding the time to stitch the pieces together is the hardest thing. I'm also working on putting everything that isn't the current chapter in One Big Doc, because I write wildly out of order and I keep losing shit.

What’s your favorite tropes/pairing

The pairings I write are obvious, so let's go tropes/themes. I love competence porn. I love teamwork and friendships that span more than a pairing. (The combination of those two things is why I love heist movies).

Do you have a favorite fic of yours?

I re-read A Star To Steer Her By occasionally and enjoy it immensely, despite the rocky never-wrote-long-fic-before start, but I'm honestly SO PSYCHED about some of the deep emotional waters uncovered in the Sunset and Evening Star rewrite... does it count if I can't share it yet? Also, I'm too deep into it right now to be a good judge. I haven't had that experience of going back to it (the rewritten version) as a reader. (I've done it with the published version; it was shitty. That's why I'm rewriting).

Your fic with the most kudos?

A Star To Steer Her By, to no one's surprise.

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

I can so, so tell the times I tried to force something without hitting flow (see above re 'some of published SaES is really shitty').  That's different from "Put the butt in the seat and stitch that story together", which has to happen. I realize that's kind of saying 'I like it when it goes well, and dislike it when it doesn't.' But eh.

I definitely wonder sometimes if I'm too heavy-handed with whatever point I want to make. Like having to put Joker in a situation where someone is an ableist asshole to show what he's dealing with -- it can feel cheap, because what he'd *actually* be dealing with is all this micro stuff that builds up over time, but it's hard to show that in a story. So there has to be a larger stand-in event, and it can feel like setting up a strawman. Not sure I'd say I dislike how I've done it, but I'm not confident in it.

One thing that I hope rarely shows but is really a pain-in-the-ass is that, since I write out-of-order and I'm sometimes dumping things from two different notepads, a draft email, and a new google doc into one chapter, I'll find that I wrote the same scene twice. Or more. Because I knew that info needed to be conveyed and I forgot I'd already done it. Figuring out which version to use, or frankensteining them together, can be brutal, and then you've done all this work and only progressed by one scene.

Now something you do like?

Well, see, I like it when it works and I don't like it when it doesn't. :P

When I share snippets it's always funny dialogue, because that's easy for me (though conveying the comedic timing is absolutely something I put a lot of work into), and because it tends to share well as small pieces. But I'm more pleased by the scenes that make me choke up, because they aren't as easy. I suppose I'm more surprised when they work. This includes the upcoming Emotional Cascade Failure chapter and The Vortex of Tears.