#I want all their efforts to not be in vain

[tragedy-of-commons]

Congrats on 200 followers!!! You deserve everything with how much you’ve made me giggle with your stories!🎉

For your 200 followers event? May I request; Dan Heng + “Let’s meet again, in our next life…” + romantic + angst (I’m not sure if you accept the genre)

I think I’m gonna go crazy with how much angst and fluff I consume in a day

"Let's meet again, in our next life..."

It's a nice sentiment. It really is.

It also just so happened to be the best thing you could come up with, considering you're too focused on the stuttering breaths and tremors wracking Dan Heng's form. He must find it insulting, really, that you'd bring up his disposition like this, but you don't know if he can even hear you at all right now.

The storm normally brewing behind his eyes is replaced by a glazed sheen that you desperately want to remedy. You can barely find it in yourself to speak, words slurring together and becoming lost in the whiplash of the tears and shock. But you keep going. That's about all you can do.

"You--you always said I'd make a good professional nuisance. Well, that one time, anyway - I laughed so hard you didn't talk to me for two days," you ramble, threading your fingers through his matted hair. Your fingernails are caked in red, and it probably doesn't feel good in the slightest, but he doesn't even tense.

Dan Heng is still.

You sniffle, words garbled. "M-Maybe I'll peddle something door-to-door... like vacuum cleaners. Shitty ones that don't even come with a handheld and break right after the warranty expires. You'll o-open your door one day, and sparks will fly all over again."

This hypothetical scene you'd normally be pitching to him over a hearty breakfast or under the twinkling stars doesn't make either of you laugh. Instead you feel bile crawl up the length of your esophagus, threatening to spew with the rest of your guts if you persist with this poor charade.

"Or maybe you'll slam the door in my face. I don't know what could happen," you admit, because of course you don't. You don't know anything else but Dan Heng's nauseatingly cold skin and clammy hands.

There's a small number of people in this universe that will accept you. There's an even smaller number of people who will love you, that will let you inside their heart, no matter how much of a professional nuisance you may be. Finally, there's an infinitesimal amount of people - really just one - who will let you love them in return, despite it all.

And he has just slipped right through the gaps of your fingers.

"Even if you do," you hiccup violently, biting your tongue until you taste iron, "I'll stand out there all night until you recognize me."

There's no response except the buzzing of cicadas, tapping on the soft spot right between your eyes in a dull ache that hurts so bad you can't breathe.

If that's a good or bad thing, it doesn't matter; Dan Heng is not here to soothe the pain with mild-mannered but gentle platitudes. Dan Heng is not here to squeeze your hand back as you try in vain to keep up the one-sided effort.

You are alone, even as you sweep away his bloodied knot of bangs, leaning forward to press your quivering lips against his forehead tenderly.

"You k-know I would," you plead, whispering against his eyebrows and mangled nose, a tiny part of you still holding out for a sign that he's still with you - that he understands how much you love him, even if you didn't say it as much as you should've. "Dan Heng..."

Those three little words are on the tip of your tongue, foreign. It feels like an insult, knowing he won't be able to hear them. Even so, you choke the syllables out, actualizing years of subtle acts of service and inside jokes and wonderful chemistry that you'll never get to share with him again. Cradling your best friend and only treasure, you weep.

When you're torn from his side by first responders, clawing and gasping in abject hysteria, you struggle further, begging anyone who will listen not to take him away. You know he's already gone, you see it in the stiffness of his shoulders as you're dragged away, but you need him. You need Dan Heng, and you need him in not just the next life, but in this one too.

Time passes by in an unpleasant blur, reminiscent of a slideshow. Between clicks, whole days bleed into one another. You feel like you're slathered with monochrome and grayscale while stood against a background teeming with color, terribly out of place and clashing with your surroundings.

Click, you're standing in one place, and then you're not.

Click, you're lying down, only somewhat aware that if you turn over on your side, you'll be met with the barren right side of the bed. Click, you're mulling over flower arrangements and funerary rites without a hint of life in your voice.

Time has never been on Dan Heng's side, you know that for certain. He'd confided in you a few times - in whispers over poorly brewed coffee and in the middle of chaste kisses - that he may never be truly free from the shackles of his past.

Even so, you love him. You'll love him for the rest of your life, and hopefully, all throughout your next one as well. If not, you hope, with all of your shared memories at your back, that Dan Heng will find peace in his next incarnation.

You, however, won't be finding peace until you show up soliciting on his doorstep, peddling those shitty vacuum cleaners.

Until then, you suppose, choking on your tears of yearning.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @synqiri

a/n: did i cry a few times while writing this one? yes. are you evil for forcing me to do this? yes. did i absolutely love every second of it? yes. by the same token, i'm glad i've made you giggle, anon! <3 loved this prompt.

event post here

[shellswritesstuff]

listen usually I’m down bad for smut (always am tbh) but what about. what about just….some fluff…..i wanna put my head on those Titus Tiddies and fall asleep…….what if i just gently stroked his hair……..

could be post-coital snuggles

𓊆ᴅᴇᴍᴇᴛʀɪᴀɴ ᴛɪᴛᴜs X ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - die with a smile.𓊇 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚(⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

rating: no rating/sfw. fluff!!! and a hint of angst.  cuddling, intimate skinship. ugh my heart.,, 

ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ oh you got it anon! i love the energy in my inbox, ty friends for the asks! ugh,, i want to hold his and and ruffle his hair and tell him everything is ok sjdalksd- (its not, 40k things u know)

Forget the worlds outside. Forget your endless anxieties, your purpose in life. To hell with it all out there, your whole existence was here in this room. This metal quarter was your paradise.

"Hush, Titus..." A faint whisper fell from your lips, pleading for your lover to relax.

A gruff hum was your response, yielding. You two were in bed like always, stealing another moment from the horrors outside. Titus laid on his back, cradling you gently. Your fingertips graced his skin, tracing the scars of his Rubicon surgery. It was unfair. Titus and his brothers bore the weight of the Emperor on their shoulders. To them, duty and living were one and the same.

You wanted so much more for him. The harsh reality of these times, it must wear him down. You'd never hear it, though. Servitude was in his DNA. His unyielding devotion to his lord and brothers alike; one of the many, many aspects you adored. Is it so bad to be selfish...?

"You told me to be quiet, but your mind is racing." Damn him. He knew you so well.

You whined, your apology coming in the form of a sigh. "I love you too much."

And you did. What would become of you if Titus hadn't returned from his mission? Had he died...

Titus pulled you impossibly closer, your head taking its resting place on his broad chest. His scent, his skin, the rise and fall of his diaphragm; you were in the moment once again. A comfortable silence swept over the room, the only noise being candle flickers. You fought hard against the comfort, not to fall asleep. Your efforts were in vain. The last thing you felt before drifting away; a hand supporting you head, and fingers running through your hair.

"Sleep, my love. I will be here."

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP I JUST SAW THE NEWS IM SO HAPPY AAAAAAAA

***

[dendroaspis-viridis]

I'm begging you, BioWare... Learn from the mistakes of Baldur's Gates past...

[sgkjd]

me the minute i'm hit with over exhaustion: i need to die bc nobody needs me and im tired of pretending to be capable of being human

[thasorns-archive]

But from what I’ve seen, he already tries and works so hard. - Cause he has you who always spoils him, that’s why he’s like this. — Parents about Waan

Working is not fun. If you have the chance to live your life, then do it. Work is not going anywhere. You should let it go sometimes. — Waan to Win

I’m not gonna stop you, if you wanna help. But I just don’t want you to give up on your dreams. Don’t want anybody to force you to do this and that. — Win to Wiew

Dad! In case you didn’t know, Waan was gone all night because he was dealing with the issues at the resort. I promised Hia Win that when I grew up, we’ll help each other to run the resort. But now, I wish it could go bankrupt. I’m also curious, if you don’t have that stupid hotel would you gonna be the old dad we used to have? — Wiew to his father

[betelgeusing]

marty hart's cyclical return to praising family as THE thing that keeps a man grounded, stable, and happy (specifically in pointing out that rust DOESN'T have a family) even as flashbacks show him spiraling into jealous macho violence as he lies to, mistreats, and destroys his family over the course of multiple affairs (by which he deliberately steps outside of and away from his family despite his wife's best efforts to get him to reconnect and step up to be the family man he sees himself as)

vs

rust cohle's repeated excoriations of the idea of individuality and personhood and the stupid self-centeredness and entitlement that comes with saying "I, a human being, matter to the universe, and the things I do matter", an ideology he carries for years and waxes poetic on for his interviewers as late as 2012, even as he obsessively works himself to the bone to get justice and resolution for the victims he's assigned and ultimately to protect children from the powerful and dangerous people who want to brutalize them

[constantvariations]

Yknow, instead of basing a lackluster at best character off a nazi, Coco could have been Chajka, based off the heroic Chajka Klinger, a jewish woman who was essentially a scribe of history

You can even keep the minibag machine gun considering the history of jewish women hiding guns in their purses

[neonganymede]

Sometimes you just have to shave off half of your hair and dye the rest of it green to make your brain start working again

[unityrain24]

i wish u had a friend :( i would actually love to have two, but that just seems... unattainable. too much to ask for. even just one does, a bit, but... please.... please. a want to have a friend :(

[disdaidal]

I don't want to brag or sound too optimistic about it, but after three weeks of training at a private college, I think my lessons with this one particular immigrant student (who has serious motivational problems lemme tell ya) are finally starting to get through and there's been improvement.

Only slight improvement so far but I have spotted some, so maybe not all hope is lost yet.

Remains to be seen I guess.

[chinchillinator]

Alright listen up

This is not about who came first, who wrote the script, who has the most cultural impact. THIS IS ABOUT SUN AND MOON ICONOGRAPHY AND SYMBOLISM.

You can say “Vote Spirk because of the long history behind them, they’re the OG” just like I can say “Vote Duke/Cass because they’re both people of color and we need to support representation in media.” Both of these statements are true but they are not relevant.

This poll is about who best represents a sun/moon pairing and the answer is Duke/Cass.

The obvious first reason they represent a sun/moon dynamic is their role in the Batfamily. Duke is the first and only daylight protector in the family while Cass still remains on the night watch. Working in the sunlight vs working in the moonlight.

Next, we have Duke’s powers and Cass’s lack thereof. Not only opposites in terms of meta vs non-meta. But Duke’s powers specifically deal with the absorption, redistribution, and manipulation of light. He is literally a little sun all to himself. While Cass works entirely in the silence of the night. One of her monikers is Black Bat and is known for being one of the most stealthy and quiet members of the Batfamily, literally fading into the shadows, completely unseen.

Now, if you want to get metaphorical, we can talk about their history with within the Batfamily. Cass has a long and varied history with the family, not all of it as a protector of Gotham. For a period of time, Cass led the League of Assassins, a regular rival of the Batfamily. Prior to that, she had been working with the Bats helping to keep Gotham safe, and following her stint as the leader of the League of Assassins, she was again brought back into the fold as a member of the Batfamily. Like the moon, Cass comes and goes, her presence within the family waxing and waning and the good work she does fading in and out. Meanwhile, Duke has always worked for the protection of Gotham, alongside other factions of the Batfamily and the symbol of Robin. Like the sun, his presence is a reliable constant.

They are two sides of the same coin, symbiotic in partnership with the Batfamily. Working in tandem, sometimes in different ways, different hours of the day, different places, but always returning to each other. They are the sun and the moon, opposite sources of light and protection for Gotham city, invariably different, but invariably the same.

[cheekblush]

spent the whole day in bed on my phone someone please assassinate me

[there-will-be-a-way]

Thinking about who I really want to be in my life - and who makes an effort to keep me in theirs. Thinking about how, during our Sunday evening family gathering, no one asked me how I've been. Maybe they're just tired of my bullshit, is what I thought. But if someone close to me came back from detox, I would ask them how they're doing. No matter how many times it's been. Because I care.

Thinking about how during the last three months, it's always been me to ask my sister to hang out. Maybe this week I won't ask and see what happens. Thinking about how during the time I lived in a different city, it was always me who drove the long way (and payed a shit ton for the bus tickets even though I'm piss poor) to visit my family. Thinking about how when I invited my parents over for cake and coffee, they forgot and I stood there with the cake I baked and no one but my aunt and me to eat it.

Thinking about how people who have known me for a couple of weeks have a better idea of who I am than the ones who've known me my whole life.

Future roommate takes moving to a different state into consideration. If it weren't for the good friends I have here (and my professional support system), I would fuck off.

I'm tired.

[sapphicpenguin]

every day there is a war within me between having long pretty nails and practicing the guitar

[weareuniqueandimportant]

THAT IS TIME... MAKE US TRANSITION IMMEATEDILY THIS INSTANT. YOU'RE MY ALLY. YOU SUPPORT US. THEY'RE EVIL ENEMIES. THEY'RE AGAINST US.