#and I find it so Interesting how they’ve reached their end and how we can see how they have changed

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

Listen listen I love Halloween ends but I also know that there’s stuff that could be better or I think hey why this trailer then this movie y’know?

[lexirosewrites]

Wealthy omega Steve going on an arranged date each week to the same restaurant because his parents want him to find a mate.

Alpha Eddie who busks in the parking lot for tips and always offers him a cigarette and a shoulder to cry on after it doesn’t work out.

It takes them a while.

“Another one? That’s the third date this week, pretty boy. You going for a record or something?” Eddie asks, already holding his half-finished cigarette out for Steve to take.

He does. It’s his only reward for doing all of this.

Well, that and Eddie.

Eddie makes this easier.

Steve takes a long draw from it, craving the burn of nicotine more than he cares to admit to himself.

He craves Eddie’s company too, but that’s between him and the cigarette.

“Yeah, my parents are working overtime it seems. They’re bound and determined to have me mated off before spring.”

Steve laughs.

Eddie doesn’t.

“They sound awful.”

They are. Their insistence on old-fashioned values and treating their omega son like a burden to be rid of is proof enough.

“They mean well,” he says. “I think.”

Eddie hums thoughtfully. It’s clear that he disagrees.

Steve passes the cigarette back.

The alpha snubs it out on the sidewalk they’re sitting on instead.

“How long are you gonna keep doing this for?”

“Well, as long as it takes to find someone who’s interested, I guess. There’s not an exact timeline or any—”

Eddie startles Steve when he cuts him off with a growl.

He doesn’t look mad, but his forehead creases, deep frown, and sour scent speaks of irritation.

“Not what I meant.”

Oh.

“I don’t know, Eddie. They’re my parents… and it’s not like I’ve got anyone else knocking down my door.”

Even his dates aren’t interested once they’ve met him in person.

Steve always looks good on paper. He’s attractive and from an upstanding family, a decent investment at first glance.

But then he opens his mouth. That’s where their interest always ends.

Sometime between shaking hands and dessert, their eyes get bored and they start checking their watch more. They don’t bother to hide that they’re running out the clock, eager to be away from Steve.

He thought it would hurt less after a while, but it doesn’t.

“How many times are we gonna do this, Stevie?“

And now even Eddie is bored with him. It makes sense. They’ve been meeting up for months and Steve isn’t worth much for stimulating conversation.

It had to end eventually.

“I’m sorry. I— I didn’t realize I was bothering you. I can leave you to your gigging, man. Let me just—”

Steve reaches for his wallet, pulling out a thick wad of bills to shove in Eddie’s guitar case as an apology for taking up his precious time.

Compensation for the therapy.

“Hey, no— that’s not what I meant, baby. I just— ugh, why is this so hard to say?” Eddie groans, grabbing at his own hair in frustration.

Steve hasn’t the faintest idea what’s ailing Eddie. The guy is normally chill 100% of the time. It’s why Steve goes to him for comfort. He’s hard to shake.

“Sorry?” he tries.

“No, I’m sorry! I just can’t sit here for yet another evening and pretend like there are more fish in the sea for you or whatever,” Eddie explains frantically, his eyes begging Steve to understand.

Ouch. Okay. Point made.

Steve is unlovable, got it.

He stands, brushing off his slacks so his shaking hands aren’t as noticeable.

Keep cool. Breathe.

“Understood. I won’t bother you anymore then. I can park across the street next time too. Good luck with everything, Eddie. I’m sure your band will get signed soon, you’re a talented musician.”

Eddie shoots to his feet, almost tripping over his own lanky limbs in the process.

He grabs the sleeve of Steve’s dress shirt, stopping him from leaving.

“Don’t go on anymore dates.”

Jesus.

“Yeah, I got it the first time, thanks. I’m undesirable. Can you stop repeating it?”

Eddie looks like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t say anything back. The bluntness must have caught him off guard.

Steve sighs, attempting to pull free from the alpha’s grip.

He almost manages it.

But then Eddie snaps back to reality and his eyes go wide for just a split moment before he kisses Steve right on the lips.

It’s unexpected to say the least.

It’s also probably the best kiss of his entire life. Too bad it’s from someone who just told him to quit dating because nobody will ever want to court him.

They finally break apart and Steve sways.

“Eddie… what in the actual hell are you—?”

“I love you! I love you— I’ve been in love with you for months, but you insist on going on all these dates with alphas who have no taste and they keep breaking your heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces, but I don’t want to keep handing them back. I want to keep you, Steve. I want to be the only alpha you go on dates with.”

Steve stops trying to run away.

Instead, he yanks at the collar of Eddie’s shirt, tugging him into another, longer kiss.

This is love, huh? Makes sense.

His lips are warm and so is his heart. Patched up once more and encased in a body other than his own

No more arranged dates.

“That was a ‘yes,’ in case it didn’t translate.”

Eddie’s face is flushed and his happy smile is infectious.

“I don’t have the kind of money your usual dates have, but I had this really cute guy way overtip me earlier. Can I buy you dinner, pretty boy?”

It’s the first of many.

[beescake]

PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

[petit-etoile]

Congrats on 200 followers! :D For drabble ideas, how about one where Tav is becoming overwhelmed from being the leader of their group and they end up having a bit of a breakdown in camp, so Astarion whisks them away and dotes on them for the evening to help soothe some of their worries.

i  am  tired  of  being  brave

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  1,036 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, be added to the taglist here

summary: All you want is to get away from everything. Astarion indulges you.

‘Enough!’ you shout.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart have the decency to look properly chagrined when they peer over at you, frozen as if turned to stone. Shadowheart’s knife dips underneath Lae’zel’s chin, but the pretense of applied pressure goes away. You have no idea what hour it is or how long they’ve been going at it but the little patience you have snaps like a fine thread.

‘We have only gotten this far because we trust each other,’ you snap at them, pulling your nightshirt tighter around your shoulders. ‘But if you want to ruin that, leave me out of it!’

In what is likely the silliest mistake to make, you turn around and march to your bedroll to pick up your hunting knife and then march beyond the outskirts of camp  —  beyond Halsin and Jaheira and Gale and Wyll and Karlach, and Withers who seems to be musing over the situation with faint interest.

If Shadowheart and Lae’zel want to fight to the death, let them! You’ve done all that you can to get the group this far. You’re tired, you’ve been woken up two nights in a row, and you’ve had it with the drama.

You plunge yourself through the nearest bush you can find and sit next to running water, your arms pulled across your chest to keep the breeze from chilling you to the bone. You’re miserable beneath the moonlight. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept more than four hours.

You almost doze off in the underbrush beneath a tree, but then there’s a hand sliding over your mouth and a body behind yours, somehow wedged behind you once your eyes closed. You gasp and try to reach for your knife, but Astarion tuts and continues sliding between you and the tree. It would be annoying if you weren’t relieved it was him. You relax back against him despite the feeling that your heart is going to leap out of your throat.

‘You shouldn’t fall asleep in the woods,’ Astarion warns you. ‘There are terrible beasts that have made this place their hunting ground.’

You shiver. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ you say. ‘I just needed to get away.’

He hums. ‘Did something happen back at the camp?’

It doesn’t do any good to keep secrets, and your other companions had already witnessed it. You tell Astarion about Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s never ending fight. It doesn’t make sense to keep attacking one another, especially since the Artefact is the only reason the worms haven’t burrowed deeper into your skulls. It wears you down every day to keep making decisions for everyone when there are people with better experience. Everyone looks to you no matter how much you wish they’d look elsewhere. You never wanted this fellowship to hang on your every word. You just wanted allies.

‘It’s hardly fair,’ Astarion agrees. ‘To have the weight of this…Absolute sitting on your shoulders. I can’t imagine what it must be like to wrangle us all into cohabitation.’

‘Some discomforts are easier to resolve than others,’ you say. ‘It was easy making everyone throw their stakes away.’

‘I’m fairly certain Wyll kept his,’ Astarion snorts.

‘Yes, but he doesn’t wake us all up holding it at your neck,’ you say, elbowing him. ‘They don’t have to become friends or lovers or anything of the sort. They just have to get along until we arrive at Baldur’s Gate.’

Baldur’s Gate still seems so very far away. Acknowledging this drags you down more than you wish it to. You’re tired of walking and fighting and lying your way out of every other conflict. You miss your family and your life before the worm. The only good that’s come of it is Astarion. He lets you lounge on him when you please in exchange for some blood, and…

It’s more than that.

Astarion lets you do whatever the hell you please as long as it doesn’t annoy him. You’re free to nap in his tent or sit at his side while he reads, and he’s even allowed you to style his delicate curls with pomade. He lets you kiss him if you ask, holds your hand. If you asked him to kill someone for you, you’re certain he would without question.

Reluctantly, you sit forward. ‘I should probably head back,’ you admit. ‘I should make sure everyone is still alive.’

‘To the hells with it,’ Astarion disagrees. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back. ‘You close your eyes and sleep. Let them come looking for us if it troubles them that much.’

‘And if Shadowheart kills Lae’zel?’

‘I’m almost certain Lae’zel would win,’ he says. ‘But, I have no doubt they’ll behave. You, on the other hand, are being naughty.’

You laugh but you do as you're told. You worm further in the roots and lean back against him. It’s chilly, but having someone else there does wonders for how willing you are to fall asleep. It’s almost nice how secluded you are away from the drama and stress. You almost wish you were a vampire so that you could sneak out and use hunting as an excuse.

The respect for all you do is nice. Sure, Halsin and Jaheira have both commended you for how hard you work for your age, but it isn’t the same. You still stand in the middle of camp trying to handle things on your own. The planning, the decisions. They somehow fall on your shoulders. A little more input would be nice, or a sign from a god that you’re doing the right thing. You try not to think about it as you feel sleep edge toward your consciousness. Astarion hums softly in your ear, and though it’s uneven, you can’t help but think it’s so off-tune that it’s lovely.

You yawn so hard your jaw pops, and Astarion hushes you, kissing idly behind your ear. It lulls you into an ease you haven’t experienced for a while. You melt into the touch. If you could purr, you would.

‘This,’ Astarion says, ‘is what you deserve. To relax here in my arms. Sleep now, and we’ll deal with what shall come in the morning.’

[bitethedevil]

Am i delulu or does raphael admire tav/durge? I know its him performing, but as gale says "inviting to dine with devil is devils equivilant of serenade and roses" and first scene where we meet him he does eye tav/durge througly from bottom to top. Also he says "im fan of your work" to durge. So idk?? It lowey feels like raphael is fond of us in game but i need proof/ professional analysis. [Ahem you are the professional mouse afterall heehee~]

He Loves Us, He Loves Us Not: What is Raphael’s Relationship with Tav/Durge?

*Puts on my little mouse glasses* I’m glad you asked. I’m summing up a few points that I have also written about in another analysis called ‘Raphael and weaponized mortality’, so if that sounds interesting, you can find it in my reading list.

Everything about Raphael screams wolf in sheep’s clothing (or a cambion in man’s clothing if you will). Here are a few points illustrating this:

Cambions naturally have a really predatory kind of stench to them because they are entirely carnivorous. Yet, he is described as a perfumed trickster who smells of cherries and sulphur, most likely because he is trying to cover up that smell.

Poetry, an art that is very dependent on nasty mortal concepts such as ‘feelings’, is something we know he uses a lot. He’s not really good at it and he even says it’s not his ‘main interest’ to Karlach in the second act. His theatrical nature and use of poetry humanizes him, and I think he is well-aware of this.

When you call him out as a devil in front of Mol, he says something about how she wouldn’t believe them anyway, ‘not with his angelic complexion’. We also know that Gortash’s parents sold him to a ‘warlock’ and that’s how he ended up with Raphael. I’ve seen multiple places that that warlock is supposed to be Raphael himself.

Now this all makes me believe that he usually does not reveal his true nature to his clients unless: 1) they’ve already signed, or 2) they are so utterly fucked that they have already reached the point of no return with him and are forced to take his deal no matter what.

Yet, he reveals his true nature to us from the get-go. Yes, one could argue that the tadpole-gang does fulfill option 2) according to him and that’s why he does it, but I think it could also be something else. I think he knows from early on that we are his best bet, so he chooses to lay out all his cards on the table and tries to build as much trust as he can from the beginning.

This is also the function of helping us with Astarion’s scars. Dealing with a devil when you’ve never dealt with one before? Scary. Dealing with a devil when he has proven once before to keep his word? Much less scary. He’s ‘grooming’ us for trusting him to keep his word with THE deal (and he gets to fuck over Daddy Meph by potentially robbing him of a lot of souls. Win-win.)

I think Gale is right on the money when he says that it’s ‘a devil’s equivalent to serenades and roses’. Raphael is like a bird or something. He’s showing off, charming us, but also reminding us that he is big and scary. Although despite the fact that he is big and scary ‘he simply wants to help us’.

He’s done his research and already knows everything about us, so he knows exactly how to play us. This is demonstrated in the comment to Durge in the beginning and the thing he says in Last Light if you tell him he knows nothing about you: “Don’t I indeed?.

I really think that we turn into an obsession for him at some point and that the lines between the obsession about the Crown and his obsession about us blurs. This seems definitely to be the case in his journals. I mean the poor guy has nightmares about us…

I also am so sure that he is not even trying to trick us into anything with the Orphic Hammer. He truly does believe that the Emperor is a threat to us. See this:

I DO think he admires us or at the very least is heavily rooting for us. I don’t remember the exact quotes, but Korrilla tells us in Sharess’s that her and Raphael made a bet about if we would make it to the Gate, and Raphael won that bet because we had. He really believes in our merry little band of idiots.

His reaction if we betray him is also very telling I feel like. Notice how his eyes widen for a moment before they narrow and say the ‘You’ line. He seems surprised. In that whole sequence he is obviously pissed, but most of all I also just get the feeling of a man that has been humiliated and who is angry that he had put so much time, work, and trust into us.

He says that ‘he is fond of us, in his way’ and that I completely believe. It might not be out of love or affection or anything like that, but he is as fond of us as a cambion can be of someone. We’ve grown on him, and he sees potential and use in us. We fascinate him and I’d even go as far to say that he respects us. I feel like even if you give him the Crown of Karsus and he gets to rule the Hells, he will not forget the people who brought him there. He would not flaunt the fact that he had mortals help him get the Crown, but I think that when he goes on his spree to fuck up the realms outside the Hells, Tav and gang would at the very least be spared or even given privileges in that new world order. Is that a bit fucked up? Yeah…But we have to remember what he is: a devil.

(Thank you so much for the ask <3 That became a long answer. I love to yap lol)

[suckerforcate]

if you want i was wondering if you could larissa weems x reader where in the readers past relationships they’ve made the reader feel like an inadequate partner (too clingy, annoying sorta stuff like that) but larissa is there for them to make sure they know how amazing they are and how much larissa appreciates them if this doesn’t interest you totally ignore this hope you have a lovely day :)

You're safe now

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Word Count: 1318

Warning: previous abusive/toxic relationship

A/n: Really liked the idea, hope you like my try on it! <3

Larissa had noticed a few strange situations in the past few weeks that you had been together. At first, she didn't think much of it, but they were growing stranger and stranger.

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

She had been under the shower when she heard her phone ring. Damn it.

"(Y/n) could you check my phone real fast, it might be important." A few seconds later you had stood in the bathroom, phone in hand.

"I- what? No, I wanted you to answer it. But thanks." She had laughed at it, but you had looked incredibly confused before leaving the bathroom, while she was talking on the phone.

"No, (Y/n). You'll need to take the phone." But you were already out of reach.

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

You two had been walking through Jericho, after having had a coffee at Weathervanes as the Sheriff had approached you.

"Principle Weems, Mrs. (Y/l/n), nice to see you." Immediately you let go of Larissa's hand and took a step back. Confused she looked at you but kept on talking to the Sheriff. You just grabbed her hand again when the Sheriff was so far away, he couldn't see you anymore.

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

Situations like that had been strange, yes, but she had always tried explaining it somehow. Maybe you didn't like to display affection in public. Maybe you didn't like taking on the phone. But with every situation it got harder finding reasonable explanations.

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

Larissa had come home after a long day, incredibly happy to see you. You had already laid in bed, reading a book. She took off her shoes and crawled into bed. Kissing your neck and pulling you closer.

But she fast stopped, sensing that you weren't in the mood.

"(Y/n), we don't have to so this." You looked at her, and for a second she thought she saw panic flash through your eyes.

"No, it's okay. Go on." So she kissed you again, but the usual reaction to her touches wasn't there.

"(Y/n), I can sense that you don't want this. I will not sleep with you, if you don't want to."

"I'm sorry." Your voice had been unrecognisably quiet.

"Darling, there is nothing to be sorry about. We'll just watch a movie or cuddle, okay?"

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

And it was fully impossible after the latest situation yesterday.

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

Larissa had come home, expecting you to be there. So, of course she was mildly disappointed, when you weren't.

She had called you and asked what had happened to sleeping at hers.

"Oh, I've gotten my period. I'm sorry."

"Aren't you feeling well? I can come over and massage you or bring you my hot water bottle for cramps."

"Oh no, I'm feeling quite alright. I just know you probably don't want me sleeping in your bed, and I'd rather sleep in my bed than on your couch." Larissa was absolutely perplexed at that and didn't say anything for a hot minute. To you that was a sufficient explanation, so you told her you loved her and hung up. Leaving a still absolutely stunned Larissa at the other end.

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

The next day, first thing in the morning Larissa's went to your room. You really needed to talk. Gently she knocked and entered after you called.

"Oh, Larissa. God morning." You still laid in bed, having just woken up.

"Good morning, love." Larissa kissed you and opened the curtains, to let the room be flooded with sunlight. She couldn't stop herself from staring at you. You just looked so incredibly beautiful, not really woken up yet and bathed in the sunshine.

She sat down on the edge of your bed, face sterner than before. Stern but still gentle, the look confused you. It made you feel like you had done something wrong, but she would be angry or scold you for it. But that couldn't be, right? Anger and punishment was the reasonable reaction.

"Darling, I want to talk to you." You had done something wrong. Of course, you had. Panic flushed through you, your mind working fast to find out what you had done wrong. Maybe if you'd apologise before she said something she would be less angry. But you had no idea. You had tried so hard not to mess things up.

"Whatever I've done, I'm really sorry. I didn't want to anger or annoy you." Larissa's eyes softened, and she took your hand in hers.

"I'm not angry, why would you think that. I've just noticed a few things in the last weeks that I didn't understand." You slightly nodded, showing her to go on.

"You never use my phone, even if I tell you to. You display nearly no affection in the public at all, you're always very careful with what you say, you apologise an awful lot for awfully much. That were all things I kind of looked over, but I absolutely didn't understand why you didn't sleep over last night, and it seems you always want to sleep with me, even if you yourself aren't in the mood at all. It's as if you'd just follow my word, without looking at your own needs. And as much as I appreciate that, I don't want it. I want you to listen to your body, to your needs and always communicate them." She gently stroked your cheek, you didn't know what to say. You were absolutely startled by her affectionate, loving being. The adoration in her eyes nearly brought you to tears.

"Well I just- my previous partner never wanted me to sleep in his bed when I had my period. He said it was disgusting." You were ashamed even talking about it.

"Firstly that is absolutely horrible. It's an absolute human thing and there is nothing disgusting about it whatsoever. Secondly, I'm a woman too. I also get my period, so if I can handle that I can most definitely handle yours as well. Can I ask, all the rest that I mentioned. Was that also because of your previous partner?" You nodded.

"He had been my first ever boyfriend. I just didn't know better, I thought that's how it's supposed to be, but you're making me question things right now. Her never let me look into his phone, but he had to be able to look into mine at all times. He always told me I was too clingy and affectionate. And if I didn't want to have sex he asked me what I was good for if I didn't pleasure his needs. He always punished me with days of not talking to me, if I'd anger him. And what I feel with you is so much stronger than what I felt for him, so I was really scared to mess thing up and have you not talk to me. I wanted to make you happy at all costs." Larissa was shocked, how could people do something like that? She had had shit relationships and people take advantage of her, but she thought that was mainly because of her ability to shape-shift. But people did this without any reason whatsoever.

"Oh love, come here." She opened her arms for a big hug, which you gladly accepted. Gently she stroked your hair and whispered in your ear.

"What that man did to you is unforgivable. That's not how a relationship works. It's not all about Sex, it's about trust, loving each other, having fun together and being there for each other no matter what. I don't keep any secrets, neither from you, nor from the people at this school. I'd gladly walk through the school and the town, arm in arm, kissing you, showing everyone how happy I am to have you as my girlfriend." You nodded into her chest, clinging to her like a hurt child. But you knew, with Larissa by your side everything would get better. You would get a chance to heal and be unconditionally happy.

[sunnnfish]

I think this chapter is sooo funny bc once again they’re having the same feeling!!! (Wanting to continue this pseudo dating thing) but they’re approaching it in different ways!!! Hirano feels the need to communicate to Kagiura about it bc they’ve suffered from so much miscommunication in the past, and Kagiura knows that after that whole convo about “moving on”, hiranos going to talk to him about it bc he doesn’t want to hurt/prolong this hurt, and he’s right! But his conclusion is wrong, I think it’s at this point where Kagiura realizes he’s making assumptions! And assuming that he’ll always be rejected that every bit of progress made will have to be made with sweat, blood, and tears is already selling himself short! It’s why at the end of the chapter we see Kagiura acting like he did in the beginning, like what he’s experiencing is too good to be true and he has to talk to someone about it who can level with him about how he’s supposed to interpret it, “how much hope can I have?” Or something, also I love the fact that this conflict doesn’t just ride on Hirano not experiencing romantic feelings but also Kagiura not being completely truthful about what he’s feeling, I think it was mentioned in the hide n seek chapter about this and something about Kagiura wanting Hirano to find out for himself which is so funny considering Kagiuras feelings only reached the point of no return bc of niibashi’s help 😭 idk these situations are always interesting bc Hirano points out contradictions in kagiuras behavior and Kagiura slowly leaves breadcrumbs as to what it means, so that way Kagiura will have his feelings understood not in an intellectual sense but bc he feels the same thing! Anyway KagiHira 5ever I hope they never stop being insane

ITS SO FUNNY!!!! ITS SO SO FUNNYYYY!!!! hahahahhaah. but god youre so right. they want the same damn thing all the time but they keep going about it in different ways or keep misunderstanding each other. like Yeah they were both thinking about the whole moving on thing... but kagiura completely misunderstood hirano. because he will always think its too good to be true. hes bringing up the moving on thing because hes going to reject me. its on some level a kind of self-loathing that ive been really really normal about lately. even though theyre trying the trial pseudo dating thing he doesnt 100% believe that hirano is actually trying. he thinks he has to keep begging hirano to look at him but little does he know hiranos never taken his eyes off him.

and so they both approach this Moving On conversation with selfishness. kagi selfishly begs hirano to keep trying. and he knows hes selfish and so full of desire and he kind of hates himself for it. but hirano also comes in selfishly--i dont want you to move on yet. let me keep trying. i want to understand you so desperately. and then yeah it kind of lightens up as kagi realizes what the fuck he just said and he has to be thinking about that How much hope am i allowed to have. and thank god he has niibashi to talk to about it UNLIKE HIRANO TAIGA. TALK TO SOMEONE YOU BITCH. SOMEONE WHOS NOT MIYANO. BECAUSE MIYANO IS INSANE. sorry. like you said kagi only realized the depth of his feelings after talking to niibashi. before that he was perfectly content with their relationship. hirano just really really needs to talk to somebody. even in a roundabout way. and i do hope its sasaki. sigh. anyways. also the thing about kagi hiding his feelings Yeah 1000%. and hirano pointing out the contradictions. aaauuuuhhggggg kagihira 6ever peace and love on planet kagihira

[kiirotoao]

Can we talk about Mileven for a minute. Another reason I don't buy their romantic relationship is the fact that most of their one on ones as a romantic couple (S3) are comedic and not very serious. Where are the deep conversations and when are we ever shown how much they understand each other... post (S2). It's almost like once they started dating they became a joke? Yes they have a few sweet moments but it's also scripted to be laughable. (S4) never showed them having a honest deep convo resolving issues and growing romantically. It could happen in (S5) but at this point I don't see the emotional romantic draw.

And then there is Byler to compare it to, where most of their one on ones are much much more serious, deep, heartfelt, with actual evidence of understanding and talks involving their feelings (which Mike seems to not have an issue with unlike his plot in S4 with El). This, mind you, happens to some degree in every season with Will. If Mike just sees Will as his best friend, why is he so serious about Will especially alone together. Even best friends are more casual then this.

Also a side note. The (S3) Mileven straight stereotype of the 'lazy, lying, clueless boy' dating the 'girl who is playing hard to get to teach her boyfriend a lesson' troupe is icky and makes me want El to find her power solo and Mike to remember that the old Mike (who has a special will voice) is a much better person and boyfriend. Thoughts?

Damn! Well said, dear anon!! I couldn’t agree more.

To anyone who says anything along the lines of ‘oh, Mleven can’t be broken up, they’ve been building up this whole time!’ Or ‘here’s the slow burn everyone wanted,’ or ‘Mike and El have grown so much even after fighting,’ I really don’t understand how any of that is founded. I totally agree and I feel like their relationship has been rather unserious. Even in the most serious love-centered topics of support (s1), connection (s2), breakups (s3), and expression (s4), it’s really interesting to me how their relationship has consistently lacked depth.

Despite dealing with some of the most important aspects of strong relationships, they aren’t close enough to showing, providing, or proving to have one. Mike supports El in season 1 as she does him, protecting and aiding each other with their strengths. But… so does everyone in that season to each other? The only difference is that Mike sheltered El which is very sweet, but not inherently romantic.

Then there’s season 2, which I must confess - I think that their reunion scene at the end of the season remains one of the sweetest moments on the show. Ever. It’s raw and emotional, and this was the closest thing we got to something romantic. But what shoots it down is the fact that their emotion was due to forced separation and Mike’s very real complex grief which gets completely glossed over in the show. So, I don’t know. It’s tricky. So are they romantic yet? They get virtually no time together. It’s a no for me.

And oh yeah, season 3 was the peak of unserious-ness. I also don’t enjoy that trope of ‘the boy chasing the girl who just doesn’t get it yet and she snubs him until the very end’ kind of energy. I swear that that stuff is littered in family-friendly movies usually as comedic relief, and Mike and El just barely made that trope more serious at the very least. Their breakup is dramatized and humorous, and the way that it’s mended still makes me chuckle. Mike offers her M&Ms, compliments her looks, they smile at each other, and suddenly they’re all good again? Yeah, that’s not very clear romance to me. All season long, they keep resisting each other. Mike lashes out to everyone and declares that he loves El but can’t say it to her face, and El has Max’s words tattooed on her heart that she keeps asserting that she deserves trust. The two just don’t quite reach each other that season. The second that I heard Hopper say that they’ve only been kissing all Summer long without complaining about them talking, I knew that I was not going to be invested in their relationship this season.

And so season 4 was truly the nail in the coffin, the final turning point. They’re not only shallow in making up, they’re shallow in being together. El isn’t honest with Mike about her time in Lenora, how she’s spent it, the people she’s met, the fun she’s truly having. Mike snaps about Will being disinterested, so it’s pretty clear that he was dishonest about his true feelings that day, too. And the most telling part is that he’s not mad at El. He’s mad at Will.

I think that what the writers have done is craft something so deeply intricate and hidden with Mike and Will to the point of confusion in much of the audience today. Will has always been a buffer of affection for Mike. In season 1 he’s the one they’re searching for. In season 2, he’s the one that Mike protects. In season 3, he’s the true breakup that Mike fights for. In season 4, he’s the listening ear and bleeding heart that Mike relies on. Their love only gets stronger and stronger whereas Mike and El are simply loving under the guise of physical closeness. I seriously think that that’s all that they have for each other.

That hug sequence at the end of season 4 really shocked me, because when I saw Mike and El hugging (not to mention that shot with Will right between them) I thought that it was sweet, but then suddenly Will and El are hugging, the siblings who are absolutely platonic, and it felt more emotional than Mike and El’s embrace. So not only are Mike and El visually equated to a platonic relationship, but their bond doesn’t even hold the same weight as the sibling-hood of Will and El.

It’s just wild to me that people don’t see it. I think that Byler is made abundantly clear for us to root for. The crazy together scene did it for me the first time I saw it. It was and still is one of my favorite scenes ever because it’s the total package. Closeness? Check. Honesty? Check. Hurt/comfort? Check. Matching, nerdy Halloween outfits? Check. The lack of anyone or anything else to distract them? Check. The crazy together scene is a marker of their relationship, and it never, ever dies.

Even though they fight, where are they years later? They’ve gone through supernatural and personal troubles together, and they’re still by each other’s side. “Friends. Best friends.” The same at heart. They promise to support each other, they reconnect, they come back from every breakup, and they readily express things on their minds and hearts. They’re there for each other and tell each other things that no other boys in the party have told each other.

Mike and El try to understand each other, they do, and sometimes it’s just trying that’s enough, but on a truly intimate level, that’s bullshit. Mike and Will have everything that they need and want for each other, and there’s no going through hoops to get it besides internalized homophobia. Which I very well think can be reasonably addressed next season.

So yep. Byler is endgame.

[aro-comics]

Growth (Part 3)

Growth, 3/3 - And … with that, we finish off yet another series 🐸🐸 I hope y’all enjoyed the ride, I know it’s been a long wait for this, but I really wanted to take my time and craft this comic and what I had to say with it (and also take my time with these last few greenhouse scenes haha).

I don’t think the ways in which amatonormativity affects us has been explored as much, since our awareness of the topic is so new. Or at the very least, I haven’t seen much discussion and I feel like we’re all just taking stabs at it atm. So here’s my take, it’s something I’ve reflecting on for quite some time, and I hope you’ve found it interesting too.

Also, this is less relevant to aromanticism, but I wanted to sign off on this: I know growing up I really clung to the idea of finding the *right* relationship, romantic or not, to be this kind of … magical key, to fixing many of my personal problems. But as I’ve learned through my own experiences, sometimes all you really need is the time and space to rest, to recover, and the will to try again at the end of the day (or the next morning, or whenever your strength returns).

If love and relationships have been the key to your healing and growth – fantastic! I’m genuinely so happy for you, and I think that is beautiful. But to anyone that needs to hear it, you can be fine too without. Your growth can be something that you shape and lead, and for what it’s worth. I think you will find at the end of the day the path you carve for yourself will be beautiful in its own ways, too.

Image Description:

Slide 1: Celia shrugs “Overall, I think it’s just that society puts a lot of emphasis on celebrating growth in relation to romantic love.”

Slide 2: “It’s all too common for me to hear people talk about how someone became nicer after they’ve found “the one”, how much better they are with a lover than without”

A younger Celia is shown studying as she listens to her parents converse. They say:

“You remember [redacted]?”

“Yeah”

“Yeah, he finally got a girlfriend and its like he did a complete 180 as a person. He’s so much nicer and more patient now …”

Slide 3: Celia says “ – and as an aro, I just … wish that there was just as much focus, and celebration, for the ways people grow in the absence of romance, or any kind of relationship.”

Slide 4: “Because that family friend was wrong.”

Slide 5: “I did grow, past the lack of confidence and the so-called shyness, all of these traits that supposedly I would have gotten as a part of falling in love.”

A pot of ferns is drawn growing, unfurling, reaching towards the top of the panel.

Slide 6: “I became strong, confident. More patient and kind and understanding than I had ever been, all of these traits that supposedly would have been the rewards of love,”

Celia sits in her gardening attire. From her hand floats a fern unfurling, with sparkles in the background.

Slide 7: “Except I didn’t fall in love. I wasn’t motivated by any person, romantically or platonically or otherwise. And as much as I wish it was because I embraced self-love … it actually wasn’t either.

I grew because I had finally been given enough space to heal from what had been hurting me back then. And because I wanted to.”

Slide 8: “People love to say that everyone eventually blooms in the presence of “true love”, but I’ve always disagreed. Celia is illustrated talking to a blank person, from which a speech bubble shows a flowering plant. Celia says “I don’t agree”.

Slide 9: Back in the greenhouse, Celia is shown watering plants as the sun shines behind her. “In nature, not every plant flowers.”

Slide 10: “And those plants are no less beautiful for it.”

Shot pans out into the wider greenhouse, an array of nonflowering plants depicted around Celia as she stands with her watering can. The afternoon sun pours into the building, illuminating her and her surroundings.

[bongo-clash]

Right through the door (and all around the wall)

DP/DC week prompt: Lazarus Pit

'Bad News: Jason Todd finds a Lazarus Pit in Gotham.  Worse News: There’s something crawling out of it.'

(No content warnings || fic under cut!!)

-

Jason’s felt weird the last few days. Like, weirder than the usual weird that comes with being a living zombie full of Lazarus waters and all their consequences- weird as in something’s up weird. 

It started with some sense of unease, and maybe it was stupid to just put it down to waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but he started his days in a poor mood more often than not anyway, so he thinks it was reasonable enough. But as the week had gone on, he’d felt more and more like he was being tugged around at the chest by something, the Pit running through his veins snapping for something he didn’t know the source of. By the time six days had past, he’d well and truly had enough. Which leads to his current decision: ambling around Gotham trying to follow the feeling. 

Which leads to his current situation: standing face-to-face with a glowing green puddle at the end of a nondescript alley, previously hidden vaguely by a large dumpster.  

Now, Jason isn’t an idiot- in fact, he rather likes to think himself as the opposite of an idiot. And because he isn’t an idiot, he knows he’s looking at a newly-formed Lazarus Pit. There are only so many things that glow that shade of green in this world. But what the Hell is he supposed to do about it? He doesn’t know the first thing about how they’re formed, and he doesn’t know the first thing about how to get rid of them, but the appearance of one in Gotham cannot be good news. It could attract the attention of the League, which is a problem for several reasons, and perhaps more pressing is that its properties could be discovered by the local peanut gallery. The last thing anyone needs is for any of the rogues to figure out they can heal themselves with magic floor gatorade. 

…He should probably tell the Bats. The thought alone pulls a grimace onto his face behind his helmet, but he knows in his heart that it’s the best thing for it. At the very least, the warning that people might start looking a little more green around the edges would be appreciated; the old man would probably go ape if he found out Jason knew about it the whole time and just didn’t say anything. Okay, maybe that makes it more tempting to not tell them- but Dick would be disappointed in him. That man’s disappointed face is universally hard to look at. 

With nothing else for it, he reaches up to the side of his helmet and activates the com link he’d tentatively agreed to stay connected to. All at once, he’s greeted with the sea of idle chatter from the other Bats as they go about their patrols. 

“Hey,” He interrupts, effectively cutting through the conversation. “So, I just found something interesting on my turf.”

“Little Wing!” Dick greets cheerfully, voice carrying over onto Tim’s com. It’s one of those times where Nightwing comes down from Blüdhaven to patrol with the family, then. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, knowing his next words are going to cause something of a stir. “I think we’ve got a Pit forming in Gotham.”

Right on time, everyone on coms starts speaking at once. Dick sputters in surprise, trying to form a response over the declaration; Tim is asking how he can be sure, and for location and size and ‘should we be worrying about Ra’s making a show?’; Damian’s saying something under his breath about all their disastrous communication skills; Barbara’s staying quiet, probably waiting until they’ve finished freaking until she starts up. Batman, though, is evidently not half as patient, shouting over the pandemonium to make himself heard. 

“Hood. Explain.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Uh, that’s pretty much all I’ve got at the moment, old man. Been feeling kinda weird the last few days- felt like I was being pulled about and shit- and when I tried to find the source, I found this bright green puddle. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“Why didn’t you inform us of the feeling prior to this?”

He’s about to snap back at the man for being pushy when he hears a noise from the end of the alley. Immediately, his gaze snaps back to the Lazarus Puddle, and he blanches when his sees the surface begin to froth. 

“Hood-”

“Shut up, something’s happening.” Red Hood bites, somewhat distracted as the frothing continues, slowly becoming more violent. “Does anyone know if pits can boil over? Because I’m looking at it now and it looks like someone’s left some foul-ass milk on the stove for too long.”

Barbara’s finally voice cuts through the coms. “Nightwing and Red Robin are the closest to your current location- ETA five to seven minutes. Do you need back-up?”

“I have no idea— holy fuck.”

Distantly, he can hear the others asking him what’s up, and Barbara telling Dick and Tim to head over west, but he’s too focused on the way the pit seems to curve upwards, looking less like water and more like a thick sludge. A thick sludge that something is trying to break through. The vague impression of a hand is pushing against the surface. 

His voice is breathy when he finally responds to Nightwing’s cries. “Guys, I think there’s something in there.”

“What?!”

He takes a wary step forward as the hand continues to push, and then a large step back accompanied by a startled yell as the surface finally breaks with a violent splatter. He jumps to avoid the spray, and the hand flails as it searches for purchase against the floor. Surging forward, it discovers solid ground and quickly leverages itself onto it, pushing and pushing until Jason can see the beginnings of a face. 

Dripping with the more concerning equivalent of sewage, there’s black hair with the vaguest implication of white strands against it, a heart-shaped face, and bright, blue-green eyes. Ergo: something that looks almost exactly like him. 

Stumbling further back as they continue to rise, he hears Barbara announce Nightwing and RR’s ETA as one minute from now, and crosses his fingers that they get here sooner, because he’s looking at this kid like a fun-house mirror and he doesn’t like it at all. 

The teenager looks at him from underneath the thick coating of sludge, shaking himself free from the last dredges of the Pit clinging to his shoes. “Hm,” The guy says, tone deceptively casual. “I wasn’t expecting an audience.”

“What the fuck.” Jason chokes, barely grasping at his ability to form words beyond the shock. The teenager searches his face, before looking down at his own figure. 

“Ooh, yikes, give me a second-“ He snorts, before his skin takes on a strange blue tinge and the sludge falls through him, meeting the floor with a wet slap, which- gross. “-There! Sorry about that. Coming out looking like the Blob isn’t the best first impression I’ve ever made, huh?”

Jason is rapidly losing control of both his life and the situation. “What the fuck is- I- who the fuck are you?”

“My name’s Danny.”

“Danny.”

The kid nods. “Yep. It’s Danny.”

“Okay. Danny, can you tell me what the Hell just happened?”

Danny, apparently, blinks, looking back at the Lazarus Pit for a moment before refocusing on Jason. He’s never been more glad his expression is hidden behind the helmet. “Well…” He starts hesitantly, “I… hey- who’re they?”

Jason stupidly whips his head to look behind him, and- sure enough, Nightwing and Red Robin have finally positioned themselves on the rooftops above them- but he hears a splash and when he turns around, the kid is gone, thick ripples casting over the Lazarus Puddle. The two vigilantes jump down from the roof, coming up beside him. Tim looks utterly gobsmacked. 

“Did that kid just jump into the Pit?” He blurts, struggling to choose between looking at Red Hood for an answer and keeping his eye on the puddle in case something happens. 

Jason takes in the situation. He takes in the sight of his brothers, the green sludge smattered across the concrete of the alleyway, the remnants of conversation echoing around his head. He thinks about everything that just happened, and takes a deep, deep breath. 

“This is officially the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says, before promptly turning around and walking out of the alley, intent on going to bed and passing this whole thing off as a some kind of trauma-induced nightmare. He knows he’ll have to deal with this at some point, because there’s apparently a Lazarus Pit in Gotham and a whole guy that looked like him crawled out of it, but if he can just pretend that none of that happened for even a few hours, by God, he’s taking it. 

[chattahoochiecoochie]

Plans, Plural

Summary: A Bengals athletic trainer gets a drink after work, with a few new friends. 

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: This is, if nothing else, a two thousand word build up for an uber pool joke. Is this turning into a series? Am I mentally ill like that? Maybe. A fluffy, funny bit of filler to get us where we want to go. Part one’s here. 

“Yeah, two Blue Moons,” Joe’s voice catches as he looks at you.

“Guinness.” Your voice is quiet, hardly a whisper. You’d gotten water last time, so exhausted and dizzy you wouldn’t have been able to keep anything else down even if you’d wanted it.

“And a Guinness for her.” He turns his eyes back to the waitress, flashing a pearly white smile.

This is nice, and for a moment you forget the events that have led you here. For just a second it's only about the way he orders for you, the way he drove you three here, and how he’ll drive you home after. How Sam will walk you up to your apartment, hand in yours. You shake your head, fighting off the sense of familiarity.

It’s dizzying, how well orchestrated it is, how predictable they’ve made it feel. You’ve only been here once with them, after they’d teamed up on you in your exam room—but you feel absolutely certain that this will end the same as last time. They planned it that way. You shake your head. They planned it that way?

They must have, what with the way Sam was waiting for you tonight, standing outside your exam room, holding his bag in one hand, the other out to take yours. And the way he’d walked you out of the stadium, fingers intertwined with yours as he led you through the parking lot. And Joe with the way he had pulled his car into the west parking lot, just how he had the first time, sitting under the only broken light, waiting for the two of you.  

You can hear the boys talking, kicking each other beneath the table while they wait for their beers to arrive, but its background noise, a faded sound. Your mind is racing. They planned this.

Joe had dropped you at the bar's door, with Sam at your side. He’d park the car and then he’d be right in, he’d said. And when the three of you had left last time, and you asked to be taken back to the stadium, Sam had laughed, and held you by the back of your neck. You were tired, and now you’d been drinking. They’d get you home, you could worry about your car tomorrow.

But I work early, you can hear yourself slurring as the memory plays. I’m in early tomorrow too, Joe says to you, rubbing his hand on your thigh. You just send me a text when you’re ready in the morning, and I’ll be by. Is that how they’d gotten your phone number?

There’d been a group message the next morning when you woke up. Joe was on his way, Sam wanted to know if they could stop for Starbucks. Want us to get you anything?

It had seemed like dominoes at the time, the eventuality of progressing circumstance. But they had planned it, hadn’t they? You want to be worried, to hesitate, to ask them why, but you’re cornered anyways, and it’s so nice to let someone else be in control for once, to have a plan at all.

“And a Guinness for you honey. Can I get y’all anything else for now?” You blink slowly, reaching out for the beer that's been placed in front of you.

“I think we’re set, thank you.”

“So Guinness, huh?” With the waitress gone, Sam puts a hand on your knee, leaning over to look closely at your drink.

“They taste good.” You look up at him, very aware of how he’s pinned you inside the booth by taking the outer seat.

“Oh is that right?” He leans against you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll find out later then.” So he’ll kiss you goodnight this time too, then?

“Have you always liked stout?”

Why does every guy always ask? “My dad—” And why are you giving him your practiced response? You fall short, letting your mouth quirk into half a pout.

“Your dad what?” They’re both looking at you, eyes wide with interest that must be real because it’s too intense to be manufactured.

“My dad always had some, uh, growing up. My first beer was Guinness.” You laugh, when Joe quirks a brow with curiosity. “Some friends and I had some at a sleepover after my parents had gone to bed. Spent the whole night puking in my bathroom.” You don’t tell people that part, and you’re not sure why it comes so easy in front of them.

“I threw up my first time too. Half a case of natty lights.”

You and Joe both groan loudly at the thought of it. You glance at him briefly, wondering if he is also tasting every cheap college beer and the memory tied to it. When he pretends to gag, you decide that he must be.

“Bringing back memories Joey?” Sam grins, swigging from his glass quickly before sliding it to the end of the table, empty.

And suddenly, that's it. Whatever you’ve been holding onto in your mind simply slips from your reach. Before you know it, you are sliding your glass to meet his at the end of the table, leaning over Sam’s lap as you try not to spit up your last sip—overwhelmed with laughter as Joe recounts the worst college party his memory has to offer. What had you wanted to ask earlier?

It doesn’t matter, you decide, feeling a sense of finality about it. Sam is kissing you on the forehead, and you are vaguely aware that beneath the table, he has Joe by the hand. This is nice, this is good. And Joe’s getting you another beer, so now’s not the time to interrupt anyways.

“And he’ll take another Blue Moon, too.”

“Sounds good, can I get y’all anything to snack on?” She’s chipper, the young woman standing at the end of the table.

You shake your head at Joe, almost instinctively. Why are you letting him speak for you?

“No, we're all good. We’ll close too, if that’s okay.” He turns away from you, speaking to the waitress with a pointed voice you didn’t know he could manage. There's control in his tone, in his affect. That’s why.

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom, and then I’ll go get the car.” Beneath the table, Joe pats your knee firmly before sliding out of the booth.

“Alright, we’ll walk your way when we’re done here. You on 17th?”

Already walking away, Joe nods, back turned to them.

“Better drink up then baby, we’ve got some walking to do.” Sam lifts your glass from the table, holding it out for you to take. There's half a pint left, most of it warm now after how much the three of you had talked. Better that way, anyhow.

Grazing his hand you take the glass from him, breathing in through your nose as you sip the last of it quickly. With the back of your hand you wipe your mouth, slamming the heavy cup onto the table, back into the ring of condensation it had left behind.

“Wanna race?” You’re grinning, holding back a hiccup as you stare him down.

“I think I’ve had dreams about you.” He’s breathless, looking at you with vague wonder before pressing a kiss to your lips. He slides away from you on the seat, letting you follow the kiss right out of the booth until you're both standing on the sticky bar floor, you with your back pressed to the column dividing your booth from the one before it, and him with a knee between your legs, daring you to move against him.

Eyes closed, you sink against the narrow wall, sighing against his mouth as he slips his tongue over your lips. He’s scratchy today, having let his facial hair grow out since the last time. It’s ticklish, the rough sensation kind of—

“Boo!” You freeze, eyes wide when Sam lets go of you, spinning on his heel. In front of you, Joe is looking delightfully guilty.

With a quick hand, he pats Sam on the backside, before making off on quick feet for the door. “Last one to the car loses!”

“Absolutely not.” Sam turns back to you, face set. “You and I will race another day, okay?”

Before you can answer or even think, he’s got you off the floor, slung over his shoulder with your feet in the air. With one arm on your back and the other wrapped around your thighs, he sprints for the door with heavy steps. It takes everything in you not to shriek as the night air hits you, whistling in your ears as he runs. 

He’s not fast, at least not fast enough but it's shocking how uninhibited he is by the weight of you in his arms. Shrieking and squealing, you are tossed around as he covers the first city block, and then the second.

You know you’ve lost, before he even begins to slow down. The heavy sound of him breathing, and the growing volume of Joe’s laughter as you get closer is telling enough.

“Shut up.” Sam is fully gasping as his steps become shorter. At a slow walk, with his chest heaving, he maneuvers you, bringing you down to brace against his chest for a moment before holding you out. “You take her, dick.”

Laughing loudly, Joe appears beside you, arms out to catch you. “We gotta get your cardio up, goddamn.”

With a grunt, Sam drops you against Joe, stepping back to catch his breath fully. The transfer is awkward, and you’re trying to find a reason for it at all—the car is right there.

Sensing you squirming in against him, Joe turns his attention to you, coughing on the last bit of a quiet chuckle. “You think you got it?” He lets you slip slowly from his arms. That’s why.

The ground feels shaky beneath you, and Jesus, your head is pounding. Stumbling, you reach for something to grab, coming up with a fistful of Joe’s shirt. You cling to him, hiccuping and shaking. It feels as though you’ve just been spun in a blender, or rinsed out on a spin cycle.

“I gotcha.” He’s laughing again, head tossed back as he takes you by the forearm. “Let’s get you in the car.”

With your eyes shut, you let him lead you around the car. Staggering blindly, you feel for the passenger seat of his Porsche, sinking into it as slowly as he’ll let you. Safely inside, with your hands gripping the leather, you brace against the headrest.

Pulling the belt across your shoulder, Joe presses a kiss to your forehead, wearing a smirk you can feel. And with the belt clicked into place, you feel him move away. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mmm.”

Minutes later, after the muffled sound of them play fighting outside the car has ceased, and Sam is safely crumpled on the backseat, Joe returns, this time to sit beside you. Hand on your thigh he looks at you sideways, curious.

“I’m good.” You try for a smile, wondering if the silence from the back is any indication of how much worse off Sam must be.

“Let’s get you home then. Sam, seatbelt, please.”

A grunt comes from behind you, followed by a loud fumbling and then finally, the click of the belt as it locks into place.

“Excellent.” Joe lets his hand run up your leg before settling his hold at the top of your thigh, where your own hands are now folded in your lap.

“Uber pool is crazy, huh?” He deadpans, jaw set.

“This is me.” You say it over your shoulder, fumbling with your keys as you consider the fact that he already knows that, having brought you to your door the last time. If he does remember, he doesn’t say.

Standing beside you, he leans against the wall when you get the door open finally, hand out to touch your waist.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” It’s phrased like a question but if the tone of familiarity is anything to go off, you know it's not. You nod anyway, lingering against his touch.

He pauses for a moment, looking at you with a glint in his eye. Before you can second guess it, his mouth is on yours, brief and sweet. He’s trying for gentle, it seems, fingers ghosting over your hip as he steps back from you.

“In the morning?” Just like last time?

“That’s the plan, pretty girl.” That’s the plan. That’s the plan.

You’re still rolling the words around in your mouth when you finally lock the door behind yourself, sinking against it with a blush on your face and a girlish squeal threatening to break loose. They planned it. 

A/N: Part three is right here. 

[ghostchems]

Prompt 26 with Secondo

“i wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it” with the bone daddy himself ☠️

This is going to make for an interesting story once you return home. How did you end up on a yacht during the Carnival of Venice? All you remember is dressing up with your friends and going adventuring around the city. You picked out a fun mask for the celebrations: one that was black with dark green designs around the eyes and a few feathers popping off the top.

It was all just for fun…

But there was a man in a devil mask that found his way to you and your group, inviting you onto his yacht for the party. Was it even his yacht? You aren’t sure but he seemed to be most interested in you. After a few touches on the dance floor, coming from him and yourself (because why not, right?), you find yourself alone with him near the glass balcony of the yacht.

His hands snake around your waist and he pulls you in close, face to face with his devil mask. It has long horns, large pointed ears and the eyes are pointed in an angry expression. His pink lips are exposed though and his little pencil mustache relaxes you, reminding you that this was in fact a man and not a beast.

“Amore, today no one knows who we are.” His slick Italian accent fills your ears, heat beginning to pool between your legs. “We can go wild.” He licks his lips and grins at you, flashing his brilliant white teeth.

You swallow thickly as your cheeks flush, your legs wobbling. The feeling that is creeping up inside you is thrilling: you feel like you’re doing something terribly wrong but you want it. You’ve never wanted anything more.

“Yes… yes we can.” You whisper as you trail your fingers down his chest. He growls in response, his one hand immediately moving to roughly grab your face. His tongue is down your throat in an instant and you moan into the rough kiss, your hands gripping onto his shirt. His other hand grabs your ass and pulls you forward, grinding his already hard cock against you.

Wild. This was certainly wild.

You welcome the touch, pressing your own hips against his as you sigh deeply against his mouth.

“Ah, you’ve surprised me, dolce.” He purrs against your lips. “Such a good girl like you acting in such a way.”

“I am not a good girl.” You smirk at him but that smirk is immediately wiped off your face when he slips his hand under your dress, cupping you through your underwear.

“Si, si, bene. Already so wet for me.”

He quickly has you spun around and bent over, your hands frantically reaching for the rail in front of you. He pushes your panties to the side and you feel it, his hard cock pressing against your entrance.

“I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.” The man snarls before thrusting inside of you with no warning.

You cry out, your hands clenched around the rail as he starts to fuck you. You are in public and this man is fucking you out in the open—and you love it. Your back arches as you press back against him with each thrust, his one hand gripping your shoulder.

His cock is hitting a spot that you didn’t know existed and your toes curl in your heels. Breathy moans are spilling out of you, growing louder and louder as his pace quickens. He reaches for your hair and gives it a tug, forcing you to look out amongst the crowd below you.

“Cazzo, fuck. You feel so good, dolce.” He chokes out, his hips stuttering just before he growls so deeply, spilling himself inside of you.

You can’t tell if the people below had been watching but you doubted that this was the most shocking thing they’ve seen during Carnivale.

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

How would you have ended Voltron ??

In particular, what would you have done with Lotor and Allura ??

Hi, anon! Oooh what an interesting question!

If I absolutely had to start with the end of s8, assuming everything before has still occurred:

The easiest option would be that Allura doesn’t die, given that her life force is tied to Voltron and the Realm of Universal Consciousness is where the living and dead exist in the same space anyway.

Instead, previous paladins of Voltron, current paladins of Voltron, Voltron itself, and others (including a willing/repentant Lotor) help Allura restore the universe so that it’s not always just mostly her doing all the heavy work, offering their spiritual energy together to accomplish this massive feat. (Because legit, we need some found family / stronger together vibes! That’s the heartbeat of Voltron!)

It’s during the restoration that the selfish and defeated Honerva gets purified / fully restored herself.

The restoration burns out the rift creatures haunting the quintessence field.

When the universe is restored, Allura realizes she can bring the previously dead with her from out of this liminal space.

All the current paladins open their Lions to take in refugees and bring them back to their restored planets.

While Allura might offer them a second chance, Honerva and Zarkon choose to stay behind, as do many of the victims of the 10,000-year war who prefer the peace they’ve found.

Cue Allura’s heartfelt convo with her parents, who like many of the elders choose to stay behind, but not before doting on their daughter and offering her something that indicates the crown of Altea has been passed down to her / replaces the circlet she lost in s7. Perhaps Allura can still call on her parents in some way if she ever needs help or guidance (as previous-franchise versions of Allura could do). (More under the cut!)

The elders (Zarkon, Alfor, Honerva, etc.) could agree to help guard the flow of quintessence in some way, so that the living have sustainable access without going insane. (Idk what the limits are of this liminal space they're in.) Or else maybe the true secret of sustainable power is revealed through them, answering the problem that started this whole war.

As the paladins are encouraging others to come back with them, Lotor hangs back in the crowd. He does not feel worthy of a second chance at life, and is possibly unsure whether he even has the energy to try. He feels shame over his past and how quintessence twisted his mind.

Out of all the paladins, Allura approaches him and holds out her hand. “We were meant for more than fear and war,” she says, voice soft. “Do not be afraid to live.”

Lotor asks something like, deeply hesitant, “What life do I have? I isolated all allies and nearly destroyed the universe in going mad.”

Allura goes silent and then tries again, still holding out her hand, “And yet, the universe is restored, and all here know you took part in this great work. Your energy and will is a part of New Daibazaal’s atmosphere, its rivers and valleys.” She manages a weak smile. “If I remember correctly, you always did want to explore.”

“And can the past be so fully undone?” he asks. “Would I even be free to explore?”

Perhaps some moment where Zarkon and Honerva take responsibility for Lotor’s screwy life. Bonus if he gets some kind of call that the Galra still need a leader to help them in this new phase of peace, and that he hasn't reached his true potential yet.

Probably, some paladins chime in, validate that the alliance is back on, and the serious moment gets broken.

Lotor grabs onto Allura’s hand. She leads him to Blue Lion, where he joins the multitudes returning to the restored universe.

The Robot that jettisoned itself off Lotor’s spaceship from S5 is part of the crowd!! Lotor reunites on-screen with his cat, Kova!

Cue silly paladin shenanigans, a few stowaway mice finding a new resting spot on Lotor’s shoulders, and Allura’s new circlet catching the light as the paladins of Voltron launch back toward their reality, away from the Realm of Universal Consciousness.

Cue a pan-out to the restored universe, where the rift is healed, and New Altea and New Daibazaal exist side-by-side as their suns rise.

I think something open-ended, in the context of several characters—focused on a theme about not being afraid to live, about reconciling the past with the present—would hype that found family / stronger-when-we’re-together / comic energy that made Voltron unique…and leave lots of possibilities for the fandom to explore this new world!

If I could roll the clocks farther back than s8, I’d massively overhaul several things about the show. But this is just where I see a way to better land what we got toward the end.

Thanks for this ask! So fun to think about!

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

The Fire Inside

Summary: Éomer is back in Minas Tirith a few years after the war, getting ready to help Gondor again with the ongoing clean-up after Sauron. But his life has changed and so have his feelings about war and warrior culture, so he needs Éowyn to help him talk it out.

Context: I love spending time with Éomer and Éowyn, and I hope this shows the affection between them and how Éowyn’s perspective (and some of Faramir’s) continues to inform Éomer’s understanding of the world. I’m interested in the way that they’ve both been really reckless with their lives in the past (her in the attitude she had when going to war, and him in the book after he thinks she’s dead and he kind of goes berserk and charges into a really bad situation) and how that echoes their own ancestry, given that one of the only things we know of their dad is that he was so passionate about fighting orcs that he rashly rode into an ambush and got killed. Now that both siblings have had more experiences and their lives have changed, I expect they would view their past actions quite differently now.

Content warning: Beyond a reference to the courting of death, there’s an implied history of miscarriage in Éomer’s marriage. My own relationship to pregnancy is v. complicated and that tends to pop up now and again in what I write, but I understand why other people might want to avoid that. (And for those who like to know there’s a happy ending, you can find in some of my other stories the proof that Éomer has a daughter, and his wife names her Sigewyn (“joyful victory”) in acknowledgment of their struggle to get there.)

**********

The greaves slid easily over Éomer’s shins, and he bent down to fasten them tight. The motion was so familiar, so ingrained in his memory, that he no longer needed to look or even to think about what he was doing. His fingers moved on their own to find and secure each buckle–one behind the knee, one at mid-calf and one above the ankle–while his mind wandered back over the many miles to his home, back to his wife and the last words she had whispered to him as he prepared to ride out. Those words played over and over again in his ears, and when his fingers finished their task he remained frozen in place, still listening to the loop of his wife’s voice. By the time a knock at the door returned his attention to his current surroundings, he wasn’t sure how long he had been stooped there, half-armored and adrift in a sea of thoughts and emotions.

“Enter!” he called over his shoulder, expecting Freaward to help him with the last few pieces of his gear. He stood and ducked into his mail coat, but, as he pulled it over his head, the hands that reached up from behind to free his hair from underneath the collar were not Freaward’s. He caught one, strong but graceful, in his own hand and knew in an instant who it belonged to.

“Éowyn!” He turned and pulled her immediately into a tight embrace. “What are you doing here? Aragorn told me that you were still in Ithilien.”

“Did you really think my big brother would come all the way to Gondor and I wouldn’t find a way to see him?” She put an affectionate hand to his cheek and then turned to the pile of his armor, rust red leather over iron plates bearing the device of the House of Eorl. She picked up the breastplate and spaulders. “And if you’re going to ride off into danger again, then I will see for myself that you are properly equipped.”

She set to work covering his chest and shoulders, a task that was normally performed by the young men still in training to become full riders. He couldn’t help but smirk a little as she positioned, buckled and tightened each piece. “Other men may rule bigger kingdoms or have greater wealth, but what other man can say that he has an actual princess of Gondor as his personal squire?”

She narrowed her eyes and reached down to yank on a strap around his ribs, cinching it so tightly that he doubled over and a grunt escaped his lips.

“I take it back,” he wheezed. “I’ll stick with Freaward. What he lacks in age and rank he makes up for with a kinder hand.”

She laughed and let go of the strap, stepping back to appraise her work. After a few small further adjustments, more gently executed, she handed him his vambraces and took a seat while he secured them in place.

“Now, brother, before you are called off, you must tell me how things are at home. How is my lovely sister-in-law?”

Warm blood ran to his face and ears, and he felt his heart thumping beneath his breastplate as he pictured Mereliss once again, her eyes shining brightly with happy tears. He shook his head lightly before looking up, aware of his awkward pause. “She is well, as always. She works hard, and you would be proud of the way she rules. She follows in your example as a woman of Rohan to be reckoned with.” His words sounded unnaturally rushed even to his own ears.

“I am glad to hear it,” Éowyn said, studying him carefully. “And yet, your manner suggests there is something more that you are not telling me. What is this look on your face? I cannot read it, but I see it clearly enough.”

He turned away belatedly, but there was no hiding now from what she had already seen and perceived. He would have to tell her something, either the truth or an invention to put her off. The truth was supposed to remain a secret, but…she was his only sister. His only close remaining relative of any kind, in fact. And he had always been a terrible liar. He cleared his throat.

“Just as I was leaving, Mereliss told me…Well, she had just confirmed…”. He pictured her again, gently placing his hand on her lower stomach. “It seems that she is expecting.”

“Oh, Éomer!” Éowyn leaned forward to grab both of his hands, squeezing them between her own. “I’m so happy for you both! There are no better tidings than a new baby–and possibly an heir for your line!”

He smiled and returned the squeeze. “Definitely an heir for my line. Boy or girl, this baby will inherit the crown.” He laughed lightly at the surprised expression on her face. “I thought you might appreciate that change. If it’s a girl, she will owe her title to Aunt Éowyn’s good influence.”

She beamed at him for a moment before the smile dropped off her face and she swatted at his arm. “You scoundrel! You had joyous news to share, and yet you made me pry it out of you? What if I had not asked?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry. It’s just very fresh, even to me, and Mereliss says it is too soon to tell others.” Indeed, though he had thought of nothing else since leaving Rohan, he had not told another soul. Instead, he turned the revelation over and over in his mind, alternating between elation and disquiet.

This was not the first time he had received such news from his wife, but each of the other times had ended only in pain. In waking late at night to find her huddled somewhere, bleeding and in tears. In walking into a room and seeing immediately by the haunted look in her eyes that something had gone amiss again. Their happiness seemed always destined to be heartbreakingly brief, a short, private journey from joy to grief. This time, her kind heart had attempted to shield him from the possibility of more disappointment by keeping the news to herself, enduring many weeks of nervous anticipation, doubt and uneasiness on her own, until she felt confident that things were different at last and that their happiness was here to stay. The joy and relief he felt were deep and profound, but now he found himself with pain of a different kind: the pain of missing even a moment of something he had waited for his entire life, something that had repeatedly slipped out of his hands but now seemed to be finally in his grasp.

Éowyn knew none of these details, but she could clearly sense that he had more to say and she waited patiently for him to share whatever weighed on his mind. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I should be happy, and of course I am. This is something that we have desperately wanted and struggled for, more than you know. But I didn’t expect to be separated from her as it happened. Leaving loved ones behind to carry out a duty is never easy, but it has also never been this difficult. My body is in Gondor, but my heart is still in Rohan.” He shrugged helplessly. “It cannot be otherwise.”

“Of course not. Nor should it be. But you will be back to her soon. This separation is only temporary.”

He grimaced. “I hope that you are right. I’m here to fulfill my oath–the oath of our people–and I am proud to do it. But something inside feels different now. A little off.”

“What do you mean, ‘off’?”

“It is hard to put into words.” He picked up his gloves but did not put them on, fidgeting instead with the leather seams. “Fighting is what I have trained for and done my whole life. Sitting in a saddle with a sword in my hand has always been comfortable to me. Enjoyable even, at times. But it suddenly doesn’t feel that way now. I am uneasy, feeling the pull of home so much stronger than I ever have before. The charge of excitement that I used to feel on the eve of battle is gone. The fire inside me smolders rather than burns. And I worry that if I have lost that fire, if my sharp edges have dulled, I may find myself at the wrong end of a spear before I know what has happened.” He looked up, stricken. “I would not have my child grow up without its father, as you and I did.”

She sighed and took his hand again. “Éomer, our father died because he had too much fire in him. He let his fire direct his actions, and he took risks that should not have been taken. He was reckless with his life, and he lost it as a result.” She paused, looking off into the distance at some past event that replayed itself before her eyes. “I have done the same. Been reckless, I mean. At best, I treated death with heedless disregard; at worst, I courted it directly. I was only lucky not to meet our father’s same fate. My fire, as you call it, did not protect me. I lived despite it.”

Her words struck him hard. She spoke of her own experience and yet he heard himself clearly in the description. His mind went back immediately to the siege and that little hillock by the port in Minas Tirith where his fury and his battlelust had driven him so deep into the Haradrim’s position that he found himself utterly surrounded by foes and preparing one last desperate shield wall, doomed to fail. Had Aragorn not arrived in the harbor at that exact moment, he knew well what would have become of him. He passed a hand over his eyes, as though to wipe away the image. He could not let something like that happen again. He would not. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Of course I am. Believe me, I have thought much about this. In the Houses of Healing, I thought of little else, and Faramir and I have discussed it often. What makes a great warrior is not enthusiasm for war itself. It isn’t acting from excitement or rage or ambition or revenge. It is having something to fight for and committing yourself to doing what is necessary to protect those things and to return to them.”

He looked up and smiled. “I certainly have things to fight for. Now more than ever.”

“And that is why you’re going to be just fine. Loving your life is a much better motivation than loving to fight, and it will keep you safe in the end.”

A horn sounded outside, the clear call bouncing off the stone buildings and walls of the city and echoing on for several seconds. The time for departure had come.

She picked up his helmet, smoothing the long, flowing horse tail at its crest, and held it out to him. He took it with one hand while the other reached around her shoulders and drew her in for another embrace. She squeezed him tightly and then looked up into his face.

“Be brave, but be smart. And I’ll be here to unbuckle all that gear when you return.”

He kissed her on the forehead and headed out the door, helmet in hand. She watched as he strode down the hall, tall and strong. Just before turning out to the courtyard where his horse awaited him, he looked back and saw her watching. “I’ll be back soon,” he called to her.

She raised a hand in farewell. “I know you will.”

[fumifooms]

oh, sorry for so many asks, i also wanted to say too though i really agree so much with your chilchuck thoughts so far, even down to your personal headcanons about how things might go post-series. and you're absolutely right, i'll defend that little guy any day myself. you understand him so well and it's kind of relaxing to have someone else dish out this kind of analysis and already agree with all of it cus it's just so real, so thank you again for the Meal <- perhaps the perfect thing to say about dungeon meshi analysis when i think about it

i know you have playlists and stuff so i wanted to share a song i've been listening to that that reminds me of him: divine loser by clem turner

No worries, they’ve been a lot of fun! I do plan on getting back to each one btw, just gotta get through some other things first hopefully. Aaaah that’s really nice to hear 🥺 I do know the feeling haha, it’s always fun to have posts that Get It that you just nod along with 🤝 I’ve thought sooo much about Chilchuck I rotate him in my brain like rotisserie chicken more often than not, glad it all ended up being productive haha. Y’know recently my friends have been calling me a Chilchuck superfan/scholar jokingly and it actually made me have a realization moment of…

Bc I’ve always said Laios was my fave and like, he does mean everything to me idk if I’ve ever felt so seen as with Laios, I relate to him sooo much, but then. Okay alright that can be a different thing than a character being your favorite fine FINE I admit it Chilchuck’s my top blorbo. He’s so.🧍‍♂️I can’t even describe. He’s so….. He’s a clown but he’s also perfection in its best imperfect form I will not be taking further questions today. My friend called him my silly rabbit like that one meme and it makes me laugh sm

Thank you for the music rec!! I listened to it and yes agreed, sent straight to my Chil playlist. Songs are my bread and butter when I have character brainrot bc like with web weavings I feel like there are so many emotions and thoughts you can communicate about something so simply through one… (Which for anyone interested here’s my web weaving tag, got 2 about Chil). Gonna link all my dunmeshi playlists while I’m here: Dungeon Meshi, Chilchuck & his wife, marchil, Mithrun.

Ok everyone saw this coming but this ask ran away from me and I ramble about some song lyrics I associate with Chil & different facets of his life below the cut. Some people find my, ehem, heated rambles about Chil entertaining, this is your cue to get out the popcorn.

When thinking about songs for Chil I have 3 angles I take: About Chilchuck, about him and his wife, or about him & Marcille. Marchil is so engraved into me with their arcs together, that they’re like the concept of closure and letting go and letting yourself live again to me, sorry for all the non-enjoyers… I think currently my top song for him is Jackrabbit by San Fermin, because it combines all three it makes me go wild. It’s about trepidation… Throwing yourself into it even despite the fear (working with traps, survival in poverty where you have to rush & hustle), or just staying there paralyzed(not reaching out to his wife). Flight or freeze!! Saying goodbyes and saying hellos!! Not dying alone!! The life cycle of a wild rabbit living and dying, the baton pass race of life from generation to generation!! Chil and his daughters even!!! Going through life at a frenzied pace!! It is so Chilchuck and so marchil, and the music does give that hurried and scared energy to me too, and sigh the Marcille side to it with fear of death too…

Extra fun context but the other day on the discord server we were talking about what animal each character’s fursona would be as we do and I thought of a rabbit for Chilchuck: Quick footed, ‘cowardly’, small and frail and seen as weak 🙃, athletic and slender, pulls stunts, stressed out, has very fine hearing and has good instincts, etc. And ofc that fits really well with Marcille since she’s kinda associated with dungeon rabbits hehe~ But I think while Marcille’s 100% the cute round rabbit Chil’s more like a brown hare, more wild and like, more like a jackalope if we’re still doing monsters... I do lowkey find it more fun than his associated monster being mimics because he’s crabby, because they’re clever (with where they place themselves) and because of how he has a soft shell but soft insides, lol.

OKAY so that’s my song pick with the main 3 facets sure, now I’ll share some lyrics for each 3 sides separatedly 😈 Kinda summarizing my web weavings for him thus far. If we start with Chilchuck by himself we have… Enter One by Shelby Merry and Drunk by The Living Tombstone

With his wife, we have the bad end, and the good end for if they get back together with Lost Kitten by Metric and North by Sleeping At Last… Okay okay plus Love Like Ghosts and My Heart is Buried in Venice… Little Soldier by The Crane Wives for them also RUIN me

And Marchil… Marchil oh my beloved. Another buddy also made a full analysis on discord about Soap by The Oh Hellos for them lol, but these are Not I by I Fight Dragons and My Heart is Buried in Venice again~

Okay okay two more. Boats & Birds by Gregory and The Hawk, and Tummy by Tamino.

Finishing it up with quotes from, in order, A Softer World by Joey Comeau, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Acknowledgements by Danez Smith, The Letter by Richard Paul Evans, and last but not least posts from dead tumblr account flintcoded. I keep looking around and finding MORE fitting quotes. Someone stop me- In loving me you hold a knife at my throat, in loving you I tell you exactly where to cut. Forgive me, memory is a rope around my neck. I need you to be happy, I need one of us to be happy.

Hand in unlovable hand…

In conclusion;

[atla-suki]

sokka’s treatment in lok was astonishing tbh but i’m actually glad he was dead by the time the series started bc toph being a cop??? aang being an awful dad???? they would’ve ruined him and suki’s characters lbr.

as far as any possible kids go idk we didn’t meet suyin till book 4 we barely saw izumi i think they just didn’t want to make the new series be a atla reunion plus lok was only meant to be one season so they were making that shit up as they went along lmao. and back in 2012-14?? they didn’t know themselves what happened to sukka lmao.

sokka and suki are definitely the type to break up bc of long distance but then find their way back to each other a few years later especially as they settle into their roles in life.

while bryke definitely neglect suki and sokka to some capacity also they do have a soft spot for suki after bringing her back. many don’t consider her to be team avatar but they’ve stated they do so idk ! she shows up a lot in the comics which have obv been created post-lok and it’s been said that they’ll utilise it’s plots and characters in shall see in future projects (crane fish town becoming republic city maybe??? where suki currently is working?? and sokka later lives!!)

i’m p sure suki will be in it at some capacity anyway and that there’ll stick with jennie as she’s one of the few asian og va’s. she’s doing a lot of work atm for avatar studios.

also random but i literally found out today that it’s not bryke-confirmed that mai and zuko end up together. it was a comment on a panel by the old comic writer. it’s not technically canon. izumi is the spit of mai anyway but hmm! interesting!!

btw btw suyin’s father was def a sandbending outlaw who toph had a secret relationship with that couldn’t be public bc of her role as police chief x

oo big ask ok let me break this up into different paragraphs …

fist point - one thing i will admit about lok is that it fell short in incorporating the original characters into the new series in an interesting way with enough verisimilitude (realistic-ness) that it didn’t feel like they were just throwing a popular character into an episode for the sake of it. such as the whole ‘aang is a bad dad’ thing because they under-utilised him as a mentor figure to korra and instead focused on his supposed favourite son (i have thoughts on this re. aang NOT being a ‘Bad’ dad but i will make another post on it if u are interested (or have i alr made one? i’ll make another one.))

i have to agree that they would’ve probably done something shitty to sokka or suki if they were included. especially with the entire first season of lok being about bender/non-bender equality… i can just imagine they’d make sokka say something dumb about the equalist movement being 100% Bad instead of him actually supporting some of their completely valid arguments. idk. i’m sad there’s no sukka but at the same time…. quit while ur ahead yk.

second point - sukka long distance relationship is so real ESPECIALLY during their first few years together. i can see them just kinda calling it off because of commitment issues due to their work, etc. but not ever really losing feelings. they’d be endgame tho🥰

i can absolutely see suki being in upcoming projects! especially since she and the other kyoshi warriors expanded their reach across the nations - it would be hard to ignore them completely if we’re assuming they’re including comic canon into the universe. i hope jenny returns!!

third point - yeah! how crazy that maiko as izumi’s parents isn’t canon confirmed… though she’s so clearly mai’s daughter. i wonder if mai’s role will be expanded in upcoming projects / if she’ll be featured more. hmmm.

fourth - would honestly prefer this to the theory sokka is her father lol. it kinda baffles me that TOPH became a cop.. not bc she opposes authority - there’s something different about enforcing it than there is having to follow it. i can see toph in authoritative positions, and she fits them well. but i think it baffles me moreso because why would toph even work as a COP? isn’t that boring as hell for her?? go do something awesome like probending or professional underground fighting (adult blind bandit anyone?? this would make a good fic) or literally just construction idk i feel like toph isn’t a Hard Worker type that would want to be stuck in such a rigid career.