#i spent an unreasonable amount of time making this so i hope i get at least 2 notes LOL

[igamer12]

still obsessed with these two guys. drew this yesterday. hi

[axiina]

what about aemond x niece reader but aegon has always been in love with her? she is betrothed to aemond and they’ve always had a thing for the other but aegon has been head over heels for her since he can remember 👀

Always the last

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x niece!reader, Aemond Targaryen x niece!reader

Summary: The firstborn son, always the last. It was like a mockery of the gods. To give him birthright but take away the one he wanted more than anything in the world.

Words: 1k

Themes: angst, no comfort, basically aegon is obsessed with reader, kind of self harm? (too much alcohol to silence pain), addictions

Warnings: delulu fanon aegon, kind of self harm? (too much alcohol to silence pain), addictions, incest (it's targaryens so obviously)

Author's note: I'm back, and I hope for longer. At first, it was supposed to be a more aemond x reader, but I changed my mind, and it ended up as angst from aegon's perspective. I'm sucker for my delulu fanon aegon. if you want more, my asks are open!!

Aegon knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. The life he imagined with his niece by his side was simply not going to happen.

He didn't deserve her. And even if it were otherwise, nothing would come of it. He had already been married to Helaena for years.

It just didn't make sense, and Aegon was well aware of that. So why did it hurt him so much? Why then, when he heard his father's decision about the betrothals of Aemond and his niece, did Aegon feel as if his life had just been put to rest? Why did it hurt so much? The knowledge that it would be Aemond who would be able to watch her sleep blissfully, hug her, kiss her, and spend the rest of his life with her didn't allow him to function.

He is the first-born son, and yet always the last.

So he turned to drinking and whoring. Aegon was never a serious man. He was always more interested in pleasure than any duty and this time was no different either. He didn't want to think anymore.

He didn't want to think about her, so to silence those disturbing thoughts, he would get drunk to the point of unconsciousness, unable to get her out of his head.

He would do anything to forget, to silence the pain and the voice that reminded him that it should have been him all along.

Aegon drank day and night with no desire to stop it. In every spare moment, all he could think about was his niece. The girl whose smile could light up the darkest corner and whose touch made his heart beat faster.

He knew it was wrong. He knew he should forget her. After all, she was his brother's betrothed. But there was nothing he could do about it.

No matter how much he tried to push away thoughts of her, no matter how much he tried to hide his feelings, he couldn't.

He couldn't forget the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed or the way her hair fell around her face like a waterfall. He couldn't forget her scent and the smile that made his heart flutter. He couldn't forget the way her hand felt in his, or the way her fingers traced patterns on his skin. Even if it was years ago when they were children. When life was easier.

He couldn't forget her. He was completely and utterly infatuated.

And it was killing him.

Every time he saw her with his brother, every time he saw them laughing and joking together, it felt like a dagger in his heart. He knew he should be happy for Aemond, but he couldn't. He was too consumed with jealousy, too consumed with the thought that she should be his betrothed and not his brother's.

He knew it was selfish and even unreasonable. But he couldn't help it.

He couldn't bear the thought of her being with someone else. Not when he had wanted her so much for so long. Not when he had spent years admiring her from afar, unable to do anything but dream of what might have been if things had turned out differently.

No amount of alcohol could erase his memories, no amount of pleasure could dull the pain in his heart.

She was always there, on the edges of his mind, tormenting him with her sweetness, beauty and innocence.

The pain in Aegon's heart only grew when he saw them together.

The sight of Aemond's eyes brightening as he looked at her, the way he leaned in to listen closely every time she spoke, the small smile that appeared on his lips when she laughed, all of it made Aegon's insides twist into a knot.

He felt as if a cold, strong hand was squeezing his heart and squeezing it tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

He tried to look away, to divert his attention, but he couldn't. His eyes always returned to them, drawn to their sight like a moth to a flame. He tried to tell himself that he should be happy for Aemond, that he should be happy that his brother had found someone to make him happy, but he couldn't.

He was filled with a burning jealousy from which he could not shake.

He couldn't stand it.

He couldn't look at them together, see the happiness on their faces, the warmth in Aemond's gaze. It was like a thousand needles piercing his heart with every passing second. He wanted to scream, tear them apart, take her away from her brother, and claim her as his own. He wanted to sink his face into her hair and inhale her scent, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't do any of those things. He was trapped, watching from the sidelines as Aemond, his younger brother, his other son, always the more loved one, was now the one who could be with her. The one who could hold her hand, kiss her, and share her life. Aegon could only stare at it, feeling the bitter taste of jealousy on his tongue.

She was like a drug, an addiction he couldn't shake off. Every time he saw her, his heart sped up, his palms sweated, and his throat tightened.

And every time she smiled at Aemond, her eyes shining with affection, his heart broke all over again.

He knew that Aemond deserved someone like her in his life. But he couldn't help it. Jealousy was consuming him. It was destroying him.

Aegon knew he was not the right choice for her. He was too weak, too selfish, too impulsive.

He was a drunkard, a lustful man, one who lacked discipline and self-control. He would disappoint her, hurt her, and ultimately break her heart.

But that didn't stop him from wanting her, from lusting after her like a drug. Every thought of her filled his mind, every memory of her haunted his dreams.

She was like a bright, shining candle in a dark, cold world, and he was drawn to her more and more because he couldn't have her.

He was the firstborn son, the eldest, the one who was supposed to get everything.

And yet he was always the last. Last in his father's eyes, last in his mother's heart and now last in the race to her heart.

It was like a cruel joke, a mockery of the gods, that they had given him the birthright but taken away the one thing he wanted, the one person he wanted more than anything.

[n0tamused]

A/n: I sort of strayed a little with this one I feel like, but thank you sm for the request, and I hope you enjoy this!

Contents: Mortefi x GN!Reader, jealous reader, reader is very stubborn I must say, not proof-read. lemme know what you think!

Words: 3059

It’s suffocating. Uncomfortably warm and slimy. This feeling that roils within your chest and throat, you’re sure you’re about to start feeling sick from the thoughts spiraling within your mind. And the lab papers in front of you and the endless sound of the machine’s beeping is not enough to distract you.

Beep-beep-beep.

Have you done something wrong? What could it be? Only minutes prior were you looking at these papers with some sense of pride, imagination running wild with the possible outcomes of this hypothesis, positive ones. Yet, they were so easily shattered when Mortefi breezed by, catching a glimpse of the words printed on top, leaving several comments of where you could improve - how you should improve if you want to go through with this. Had you had a clear mind you would’ve done as he said, taken his words as helpful advice and not as an attack on your work. But his tone remained the same as always, it didn’t soften nor did it grow warm. So it made you wonder what he meant, or rather - what he really felt towards you. The latter was a question that occupied your mind for a long time.

He moved past you to the center of the lab, nearing one of the many lit computers, just where Baizhi stood. From afar you could see them greet one another and begin to talk. And that feeling in your chest only expanded further, pawing at your ribs and making you frown at the helplessness. Mortefi looked interested in whatever their topic of conversation was, and it lasted some odd few minutes. Odd minutes you couldn’t keep your focus until both of them left to their own stations, and far out of your sight. 

A heavy breath fell from you, irritated but also… sad. 

With your mind in a strewn about yarn, threads hanging, you began to think if this work was even worthy for you. God knew you wanted it, you signed up for it, you spent nights studying and working to be better and get better than that but all that effort seemed to fall short and small within Baizhi’s shadow. And you don’t even blame her, she is excellent in her work, you don’t hate her. But you’d give a questionable amount of things to have a fraction of that sweet attention Mortefi was giving her. Perhaps you were being unreasonable, irrational - and you don’t argue with it - you’re seeing green and red everywhere, and with hasty hands you collect your papers after making small adjustments, crossing out lines of text and noting down new words. And moments later you’re off to another part of the Academy, away from Mortefi and Baizhi.

What little glimpse Mortefi caught of you as you left shows disappointment and, and in the way you held yourself he saw traces of turmoil that he didn’t fully understand from that one look. He remained at his station, engrossed in his research and unaware of the burden you carried in your heart. 

It wasn’t until the time for your report came and went. And when your break time came and went. And you were nowhere in sight.

That made an odd feeling settle in his chest, a vibration of an unknown bass playing amidst the bones of his ribcage, waves of it washing up to his neck. Unable to ignore it any longer, he bid farewell to his station for the time being, one hand buried in the pocket of his lab coat, playing with the lighter. Flick..flick..

There was not one spot in this wide and vast Academy that you could hide from him, not when he wasn’t particularly looking for you and even more so when he was specifically looking for you. He could spot you in a crowd by one lone look, to him you stood out like a flower amidst grass, how could he overlook you? Following the path familiar to him, he comes into a lab room smaller in contrast than the others, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of the center room and the halls. It is clean, it is comfortable. His eyes land on your back, your nose buried in your papers, your hands hastily fiddling with the apparatus in front of you. You barely acknowledged his presence.

As if to avoid startling you, Mortefi clears his throat, but he fails and watches as you flinch at the sudden disturbance. 

“Mortefi? Uh- What are you doing here? Did you need me?” the questions tumble out from your mouth out of habit rather than genuine curiosity. You turned to face him, brows lightly knit together and eyes regarding him with a mix of feelings and inquiries. 

“I grew curious as to where you vanished off to. Has your research been so indulgent that you forgot to eat or report in? It’s been 3 hours and some odd minutes since you began on this project this morning” he began, the nail on his thumb grazing underneath the lid of his lighter within his pocket, keeping still, yet tense in his hand. His sharp gaze moves from your eyes and down to the table you were working at, noting the sharpie marks across your paper and thinner lines from your pen, and giving a small nod at them he said: “You made those adjustments I told you about, I trust”

This pulls your attention from him and at the papers, and taking his words as some sign to move freely you begin to stack pages back on top of another. “Yes. I made the necessary changes to it all. I just need to put it all into practice and, hopefully, get the results I want” you respond, clearing your parched throat. His gaze is intense, you can feel it at the back of your head like two sharp points of a stick. 

“You’ve been pushing yourself today, unnecessarily so. I sense some growing frustration from you” he says, leaving the topic open ended, expecting you to explain yourself, but where do you even begin without looking like a fool? Like a child? 

You sigh, looking around the table yet searching for nothing as you shrug your shoulders. “No, no.. I just haven't been sleeping too well lately, and it seems that all is catching up to me” you offer a empty excuse, before reaching for a blank sheet of paper, a part of you yearning to keep him here, and the other wishing him to leave you with your own emotional burdens. “If a report is what you need, I can only offer what I have from the experiment thus far, but it is not concluded, I apologize”

“Ah, yes.. sleep. One thing that is most underestimated in its importance” he mused out loud, tone flat and ignoring your latter statement for a moment too long. He was pressing deeper into the crux of the matter, not letting you shift the topic too easily. “The report for an unfinished work will not be necessary, it’s much more preferable if you take a bit longer to get end results than to hand over a half-baked product”, he sighed, pushing his golden rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Your dedication is admirable, but we can hardly expect progress if you're operating on insufficient rest and mental fatigue”.

You have to stop yourself from either chuckling or spinning around to stare at him as if he was speaking backwards. But no matter what you tried, you couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest.

“Perhaps you should have Baizhi take a look at you. She can prescribe you some soothing medication to help you sleep. But as for work.. You’re done for today” he stated plainly, looking to the side and barely missing your shocked eyes.

“What? Are you dismissing me?” you blurted out, suddenly afraid you have done something wrong or that you offended him in some capacity. He’d never send you home, especially not when you were in the midst of a project. 

“It's not a matter of dismissiveness, but rather a practical decision. If your exhaustion is hindering your ability to perform optimally, what benefit is there in insisting on your presence here?” he replied, his tone cool and detached. You blink at him owlishly, confused and, quite frankly, afraid. Previous anger, sadness and jealousy all melting away from your bones like wax over a flame. The flame being Mortefi himself. An eternal blaze that swallowed everything in its wake. You were wondering how it didn’t engulf you by now.

But in that thought alone you missed the point of it all. His flames didn’t touch you, didn’t scorn you because he willed them that way. The warmth of them kept you warm, kept you alive, kept you in this field and as his coworker, a place most others wouldn’t be able to handle. He would soften it all if he knew how, to show you he cares.

Sensing a shift in your emotions, Mortefi softened his gaze, a subtle nod of understanding replacing the usual aloofness he carried. He saw the confusion and fear in your eyes, and it pained him that he had inadvertently caused it. He knew that his words could often come across as cold and dismissive, but it was never his intention to harm or offend.

“Rest is not a punishment, but a necessary part of the work process. To push oneself to the point of exhaustion is unproductive. It only inhibits progress. Trust me when I tell you this."

Softness is undeniably present in his voice now, and your mind goes blank. Your mind was still stuck on this morning, on your project, but here he was breaking all illusions and thoughts by simply being kind. 

“I can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern, but..” you look up at his eyes only to find a scowl curling the corners of his lips, and you sigh again, looking away in embarrassment. “I can’t argue with you either, can I?”

“No, you cannot. Now, go pack up what you have. I’ll go contact Baizhi and see if she can get a check up on you before you leave”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary..” you wave your hands before you, shaking your head simultaneously to deny the offer with your entire being. “I already have some tea at home that can help me with this, no need for a check up. I insist” you try, but only get a cocked brow from Mortefi, you can already tell what he’s thinking. 

“Tea alone cannot be sufficient in treating issues related to poor sleep. Besides, it goes without saying Baizhi is well versed in medicine, and her prior check-ups of your health have been of great help to you, have they not? If tea was that simple of medicine, why have you not seen improvement?” he shot back sharply and you grew quiet, not wishing to prolong this argument further, but staying silent wouldn’t be the way to go either.

“I don’t want to see Baizhi right now” you said plainly, tone low and softened involuntarily. Your reply was met with a skeptical look, Mortefi’s head tilted in question. “And why not? Do I need to pull you to her office myself? You’re not a child, (Y/n)” he countered, not low on his arsenal of words and snappy remarks. He approached you closer, closing the distance between the two of you until he could peer into your avoidant eyes, making your heart skip a beat.

“I just.. Mortefi, I don’t know. I don’t want to see Baizhi and that’s final. Don’t make me go see her. I’ve seen enough of you two this morning” It slipped from your mouth sooner than you could pull it back, and immediately you regretted your choice of words, cursing the ability to speak. “Uh-”

Mortefi froze in his tracks, his sharp eyes widening subtly in surprise. The mention of Baizhi and himself seemed to strike a chord in him, and his stoic façade cracked just enough to betray a hint of confusion. “Hm? Have we done something to offend you to this degree of avoidance? I wasn’t aware of any discomfort inflicted upon you” he knitted his brows, looking at you for answers, his turn to feel on edge now. Were you implying he was acting out of line with Baizhi? He knew of how he behaved around others and he saw no flaws in his dealings with other colleagues, so it all left him in a more twisted maze. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lips pressing into a thin line. “Mortefi- no. You haven’t done anything to offend me, I am not offended. I just.. uh.. No, it’s all too silly. I just meant that you two just seem to be too busy with your shared workload, and I just got tired of seeing it all” It’s a badly written lie, and the truth is bleeding through the cracks in neon colors. You’re cringing at yourself, really.. The lies you were uttering, however poorly woven, were evident in the way your face creased. He could almost hear your thoughts, almost see the jealousy and insecurity that plagued you through the lies you were trying to hide behind.

He paused for a moment, considering the situation carefully, before responding. "Is it really about our workloads, or is there something else that you're not telling me?" He asked calmly, his voice low and measured.

A pregnant pause befell your ears, only being interrupted by a distant hum of a machine outside of the room, and the footsteps of other workers in the halls. He does not push you to answer swiftly, instead he waits, patient as ever with you.

“I suppose…”

“You suppose..?”

It’d be a lie to say he wasn’t taut as a bowstring, ready to hear you out, anticipating your reply. His heart was squeezing painfully in his chest.

“Ugh..I just.. Promise me you will not be angry at me, and that you will not think ill of me after I tell you?” 

“Well, this must be big if you’re asking that of me” he breathed out. Your hesitation was palpable, and the silence between them dragged on, only adding to the palpable tension. Finally, the words came, and he felt a strange mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

“I'll promise no such thing will come from me. Your words cannot change the way I feel about you” he replied, his voice tinged with a touch of irritation.

With a heavy breath you closed in on yourself, arms folded over your chest. “I was just.. watching how close you and Baizhi are this morning and for a long time now. You always spend so much time together, and despite you and I being direct coworkers and more than that outside of this Academy, I feel.. left behind”

“You are jealous?”

“If you wish to put it that bluntly - then yes. I am”

Mortefi’s coldness and stiffness seemed to melt, the answer finally clearing up the brain fog that had started to develop in his head. Things were looking clearer at long last, and with that he also felt as if he failed you. He has failed to make you feel appreciated as you deserved, and that makes his gut twist in on itself.

“I fail to see why you’d be jealous of Baizhi, even with the time we spent together. Baizhi and I are strictly work colleagues and nothing more. You are the one that gets to be in my presence, sharing stories and desserts after work hours..” Mortefi says out loud, moreso speaking to himself than you, as if trying to figure out your point of view. He wasn’t dismissing your emotions, but he failed to grasp them within his own two hands. He had been so preoccupied with his own work and responsibilities that he had failed to notice the toll it was taking on his relationship with you. His focus had been so singularly on his research, on his partnership with Baizhi, that he had unintentionally neglected the depth of the connection he had with you.

“I do have to apologize” he cuts you off before you can speak. “This.. area is not within my expertise, per se. If I had neglected you, I would’ve liked if you openly communicated this with myself” he offered, and the lighter in his hand feels like it will break apart under pressure.  “And while I can’t limit my time with Baizhi, as it is all just work, I can accommodate you as well by spending more time with or around you, if that will help you feel more.. at ease” 

There is clarity ringing its bell over your head as he speaks, already offering solutions to this problem you made out of irrational thought. Bless his heart, for all he is cold and aloof he is ten times more kind. Snappy as he is, he means well.

“Mortefi... Mortefi, I am sorry too. I did want to keep this with myself, it shouldn’t have come to this point where you try to resolve my issues by yourself”

At that he scoffed, almost chuckling but no laughter came from him. One hand perches itself on his hip and he looks at you with a look that screams of his desire to see this through. 

“Oh, but how can I ignore it now that it is in front of me? No, that will not do. Especially since it is you who we’re talking about. You go ahead now, I’ll think of something until the end of my shift. I’ll give you a call later this evening”

Afterwards your company would leave his presence and the lab, having left with more reason than conflict, and with a mind full anticipation of his words.

And just like clockwork, by the end of his shift he’d give you a call, telling you to come meet him at your favorite dessert place. 

Mortefi is special in his way of showing affection..

He is yet to learn his way with words when it comes to sweet nothings, but until then he can take care of you and help you out with work. Whatever helps you see that you, indeed, do matter much to him. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @pinksaiyans

[adverbally]

We Gotta Hide What We’re Doing

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “‘I’m not going to beg you to love me.’” | wc: 1,161 | rated: T | cw: period-typical homophobia, fears of violent homophobia (mentioned only) | tags: physical touch as a love language, feeling rejected, heart to heart car conversations, happy ending | title from “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany

And with this prompt, August is over! I’m so proud to have kept up with the challenge all month and filled all 31 prompts. Thank you to everyone who has read along and been so kind and friendly. I definitely plan to write more Steddie, so keep an eye out for my Smutty September entries if you’re into that. If you have a request or a comment to share, feel free to message me or send me an ask. I hope September treats you well! 💕

———

Steve has always been an affectionate person. Clapping his hand on someone’s shoulder, ruffling the kids’ hair, sitting too close, reaching out for comfort— he’s just a tactile guy. It’s no different in his romantic relationships, always clinging with an arm around his partner’s waist and sprinkling chaste kisses wherever he can reach. He shows his love through touch.

That’s what’s so hard about being with Eddie.

In private, Eddie is almost as touchy as Steve is, quick to drape an arm around Steve’s shoulder during the Party’s movie nights and leave the room with a peck on the lips. He loves to come up behind Steve and hug him around the waist, swaying them and nuzzling into the crook of Steve’s neck. They sleep cuddled together so closely that Steve wakes up damp with sweat when their shared body heat gets to be too much.

Their regular amount of physical contact makes it all the more startling when they’re in public together and Eddie keeps a solid three feet of space between them at all times.

It might not be that obvious to anyone else, but Steve notices how deliberately Eddie avoids touching him. He steps out of Steve’s reach when he brushes the small of his back, he dodges when Steve tries to hold his hand, he’ll stand up and switch to another seat if Steve dares to sit directly across from him at the diner.

Steve isn’t dumb; he understands the need to be cautious. They’re two queer boys in small-town Indiana, and he’s not trying to get his ass kicked by some asshole who thinks men shouldn’t be able to touch without bursting into flames. But he sees Eddie horsing around with Dustin in the aisles of Melvald’s and giving Gareth a piggyback ride down Main Street and he has to wonder… Is it me?

Would it be different if Eddie was dating someone else? Would he be comfortable with a subtle back rub or a brush of pinkies if it didn’t come from Steve? Maybe he’d feel more secure with a tougher looking guy, someone more metal, a jock with a more imposing physique, someone who’s not so fastidious about their hair or keeping their sneakers clean.

Maybe Eddie is just ashamed to be seen with Steve.

The thought is totally unreasonable, but it lingers. It’s there when he and Eddie stand in line for the ice cream truck, so far apart that they get separated by a family of five. It’s there when he watches Eddie drape himself over Jeff‘s back after a long rehearsal, their cheeks practically touching where Eddie’s chin hooks over his shoulder. It’s there when he watches Eddie drag Dustin around the comic book store with a hand wrapped around his forearm, pulling him through the shelves until Steve loses track of them.

It’s that evening that Steve finally has to say something. He’s driving Eddie home after dropping off Dustin, half-listening to Eddie thinking aloud through new campaign plots and song ideas, but all Steve can think about is how he hasn’t touched his boyfriend all day, even though they’ve spent the last seven hours together.

The next time they stop at a red light, Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand where he’s drumming his fingers over his faded black jeans.

Eddie pulls away so fast it’s like an honest-to-god flinch.

“Okay, we need to talk about this,” Steve declares as he turns the corner and maneuvers the Beemer into one of the parking spaces off the main drag. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”

Uncharacteristically quiet, Eddie fiddles with the distressed knee of his pants. He doesn’t look up when he says, “We’re in public.”

“We’re in my car after midnight on a Wednesday, there’s nobody around,” Steve points out, gesturing at the empty streets surrounding them.

Eddie sighs, “Steve—”

“It’s like you’re a totally different person when you’re out with me. At home, I practically have to pry you off me to get anything done. With the Corroded Coffin guys and the kids, you goof around with them like your usual handsy self,” Steve explains, staring straight out the windshield at the old brick facade of the building before them. “So maybe you can see the conclusion I’m drawing here, when it’s just me, in public, that you seem to have a problem with.”

“It’s not like that.” Eddie’s voice is flat. It sounds nothing like him, which makes something ache in Steve’s chest.

“Then what’s it like?”

Eddie erupts, “I’m not brave like you, okay? I’m fucking scared. I’m always worried about somebody trying to start shit because I dared to look at another man in front of them.”

“But with the other guys, you—”

“It’s different. Because I don’t want to touch them like I want to touch you.” He sniffles, gaze still trained on the rings he’s twisting around his fingers. “With you, I… sometimes it feels like I can’t stop, you know?”

Steve does know. He thinks of Eddie kissing him hello in the doorway when Steve gets home from work, how one kiss becomes several and they end up stumbling up the stairs to Steve’s bedroom, never taking their hands off each other. He thinks of lacing his fingers between Eddie’s while they watch a movie, how it turns into massaging the sore spots in Eddie’s wrist and kissing the back of his hand in a chivalric gesture.

“So it feels safer not to touch you at all,” Eddie concludes. “Then I can’t get carried away.”

Steve is quiet for a long time, letting the weight of Eddie’s confession settle, before he says, “I’m sorry.”

Eddie glances at him out of the corner of his eye but hides the motion by wiping his face with his sleeve. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you just wanted to know what was going on.”

“I could’ve been less of an asshole about it.” It only feels fair for Steve to share a vulnerable feeling of his own. “It’s just, I’ve been with people who were embarrassed to be with me, or who were ashamed of their feelings or whatever. And it sucked, trying to convince them that I was worth their attention.” Steve lets out a long breath through his nose. “I’ve done it before, but I’m not going to beg you to love me, too. I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

Eddie’s smile, when he finally raises his head and turns to look at Steve, is small but genuine. “You’d have to beg me to stop.” When he holds out his hand with a wiggle of his fingers, Steve takes it.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve looks around the empty streets exaggeratedly. “It’s just you and me, and we can be back at my place in less than five minutes if you can’t contain yourself,” he teases.

“You’re pushing it,” Eddie warns with a raised eyebrow, but he leans in to meet Steve’s lips anyway.

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

i'd love to come on here once again to geek out about Candela's great costume storytelling especially with watches because i loved Sean's wristwatch an unreasonable amount. And they done did it again, with the whole circle!

First of all, Imari/Malcolm wears his watch on his dominant hand, I'm assuming because on the other side the prosthetic would be in the way. But as someone who wears watches near compulsively, let me tell you: they can get in the way in physical activity, in a way that is at best distracting and at worst very painful, and at least enough so that wearing one is a purposeful trade-off for a soldier. Like, he decided he needed a watch badly enough to risk injury on his one good hand every time he punches someone. Something something habits of trench soldiers

But it's a nice watch, meaning either he got it from his family or he spent serious money on it after they cut him off (favour the latter because it looks very non-battered, unlike Sean's which looked like he definitely had it since the war). (Actually all of Malcolm's costume looks suspiciously pristine, I hope it'll come into play but if not it looks very sharp and I'm here for it.)

Then there's the doctor, whose pocket watch is not a status symbol. He doesn't carry it visibly and the chain is completely unadorned, bog-standard silver chain (probably not even real silver). That watch can be old, it can be cheap, it doesn't matter so long as it's reliable and has a second hand and isn't on his wrist for hygiene reasons. Because in a time where you don't have ecgs and you don't have oximetres and bp gauge isn't readily available, you have pulse, and you need a fucking indestructible watch to be a doctor under pressure in that world.

I thought Edgar's costume was a bit underwhelming initially, but turns out it's on purpose! It's all just what he hides some kind of scar or deformity under. With how much Alex stressed how much this man likes his sleeves, I was like oh that's INFORMATION. Because a surgeon who likes his sleeves down??? Absolute hygiene nightmare. Contamination 101. And Edgar seems a very fastidious doctor who wouldn't risk his patients' chances lightly, (and opted for pocket watch over wrist watch like a good doctor should btw) so again. That's a choice. Also having a dangly thing around your neck around less than lucid patients is a bad idea generally and he'd know that but chose it anyway (maybe because this look has a higher collar than you'd wear with a regular necktie?) (or because medical personnel would consider this but a costume designer might not, either way it works!). His clothes barely function for his profession or personality except for the watch (and the glasses), it's so interesting I love it here

Leo. Whose whole look is giving "has Money and Taste and wants to scream about it". Patterns on patterns in the most lavishly Victorian way, with The Most tie pin of all time. Fruity and fashionable. Here's the two things I'd expect this man to have above all else: rings, and a fancy, fancy very visible pocket watch.

He has neither. For the rings, let me briefly put on my tinfoil hat and say this is foreshadowing some kind of secret third life this guy is leading - because they went out of their way with make-up and clothes to make this man look soft and dainty and nonthreatening and then didn't do a single thing to give him the hands of the idle rich, and that feels deliberate. (Maybe it's just subtly hinting at his secret second life, the Candela work; or a less-than-rich background, and that's all it is. Maybe Taliesin doesn't like wearing rings. Still fun.)

But the watch! Where's the watch? He's a journalist, and a member of high-ish society! He should concern himself with time! It's not unimportant when things happen. It's not unimportant when he shows up somewhere. Trapp not only had a watch but was actively looking at it in his character art!

But this is a man who makes a point of running around in loungewear, looking like a gentleman who's just taking breakfast at home, on a five-day sea voyage. Comfort and image over practicality or even warmth. And a man who lies about his age to the narrator. There's some very purposeful ignoring going on here. Either he resents the passage of time or he's trying not to count down the days until some other shoe drops, but I feel like this guy very much decided he doesn't want to carry a reminder of time around with him.

[Retrospective edit: okay but was I kinda right about the conspicuous absence of watches on Leo's costume or what]

So it took me a long time to realise this because it's very small and in a very strange place, but the small round ornament on her lapel? It's a watch!

I'm pretty sure this is here because it looks cool, but let's poke at it with a stick for funsies.

They gave Grimoria a cute little watch right over her heart that she cannot look at herself. I can't figure out what that means but there's something here. Something about how young she is and yet how much old stuff is working through her - how the others can glean some truth about reality and time through her, maybe? How she's outside of time in a very different way from Leo, not by choice but by the perspective she was put in? It's different, in any case, from the norm and from the more "normal"-coded characters in the circle, and it feels like it's foreshadowing some kind of doom.

Long story short, their costumes are so much fun and as the granddaughter of a certified mechanical watch nutter, I deeply appreciate all the cool watch details I'm getting. This is just a treasure trove of visual/environmental storytelling and it's delightful.

[bluevelvet-room]

PERSONA 3 RELOAD TRAILER SPOILERS AHEAD

as promised, i am typing up my thoughts about reload with in depth discussion on the 2 most recent trailers. i'll put that in a read more - but before that, a disclaimer: first of all, these are my own thoughts and opinions and i will not be debating anyone about anything subjective i say. second of all, i'm only discussing the most recent 2 trailers because the other ones make me unreasonably angry so i might be missing stuff. anyways.

as a persona 3 fan, i havent necessarily been excited about reload for so many reasons i wont really be going into, but these new trailers have given me some amount of hope, and i will just be mostly ignoring the glaring issues.

some things almost definitely confirmed by the two most recent trailers as well as the demo they had at the sega event the other day:

3 physical attack types confirmed to still be in the game. this is a good thing

kouha and eiha have been added to the light and dark skill set, but no evidence of nuke or psy. this is an okay thing (im glad no nuke or psy - they have no real place in the game. but i dont necessarily think that ken and koro needed to deal damage because theyre both op as shit anyways if you build them right) (this might need fact checking, but i saw several people saying it, so)

despite prior claims, there is in fact fes content in reload. "the answer" may not be in it, but there IS fes content. so it's less original persona 3 as claimed and more the journey without the answer, fes edition. we know this for certain because a fes/portable exclusive scene is shown in the character trailer (mitsuru calling the cops because she thinks junpei's room has been burgled, as seen in the hidden cameras, an fes/portable exclusive feature)

new outfits that have been affectionately dubbed "tacticool" by my brother, and i will be using that phrasing to refer to it from now on. tacticool outfits are not an immediate addition - the old armbands do exist in the game for some amount of time. from trailer analysis, i've concluded that SEES switches to the tacticool outfits after fuuka joins but before aigis does, presumably at the same meeting where fuuka is asked to join. tacticool outfits standardly include the new armband, which is uniquely numbered to each character - minato is 3, and i've been able to catch junpei's number as 5. if anyone can figure out the other numbers, let me know i'm so curious. they also include a new coat and 3 magazine clips, which (speculatively) probably mean an evoker upgrade at the same time, possibly to be able to shoot shadows - though i'm not sure how well this would work as bullets would be pierce damage and almost entirely defeat the point of ever using aigis

we got clips of the additional male teammate "scenes", which i'm very excited about. it's confirmed they wont be social links, but they will have moments with minato, which is all i've ever wanted.

the demo apparently includes a version of baton pass, which is. fine. sure. i can deal with that

new ost/battle music which i am withholding judgment on until i can hear the full thing

dlc outfits - p4 uniform, p5 uniform, and phantom thieves outfits which look ugly as hell on the persona 3 characters and do not match the vibes at all thanks atlus. why does junpei still wear his hat

when a battle ends with an all out attack, the initiating character gets an end screen like in persona 5. we've only seen minato's thus far, though

TACTICOOL OUTFITS - IN DEPTH

now imagine if you will that i spent like an hour watching a two minute trailer because i care about these outfits so hard so i am going to describe my thoughts about them in so much detail

as i said earlier i think these come hand in hand with some sort of evoker mechanic upgrade/change, and theyre only introduced after fuuka

if i had to guess, the armbands are numbered with mitsuru as 1, akihiko 2, minato 3, yukari 4, junpei 5, and so on

they all have SHEATHES for their weapons which is sick as hell as well as everyone wearing some form of glove which is also sick as hell!!!

mitsuru has a cape. this is the most amazing thing that could have ever happened ever, and i support her in her cape endeavors

fuuka has a tactical poncho and headset (probably to make it more clear how she's speaking to everyone), but no clear evidence of having an armband. if she did have one, i'm pretty sure it'd be covered up by her poncho, so ??? but it's it's possible that only the fighting members of SEES get the new armband

ken with the oversized coat is so sick. i cannot even begin to stress how cool i think this 10 year old is. atlus was like would you like the world's sickest 10 year old with a sick ass coat and im EATING IT UP

if i think of more things i will reblog this post or make a new post idk i just needed to get the Melting Brain out. i hope everyone enjoys these ramblings and gains something out of it

[compassionatereminders]

Hey Kat, I feel moved to voice some sentiment of encouragement with what your ex-partners have done to you.

My heart hurts with yours, as I too have experienced a partner who chose to sever years of connection by a weak conversation about how I was the sole problem between us, and then ghosting me. He refused to have a real conversation about how he was neglecting to step up and be a partner and instead chose to do nothing as his mother discriminated against my disability and socioeconomic status. Like a typical rich c*nt she decided that I was taking advantage of her son and was unworthy of his love, and the truth of my struggle with being disabled and physically incapable of keeping up with the demands of hypercapitalism all alone (zero help from abusive family, just one neurodivergent and physically disabled person trying to keep my head above water) was all just my failure to try hard enough. That I was just a parasite looking to get out of having to work. And when he did not stand up against her cruel judgement and advocate for his partner, and I expressed my feelings of abandonment and confusion at his inaction, he decided he would just say that I was the one unwilling to grow and seemed to be unreasonably holding on to negativity. He said he'd be back, but he ghosted.

It pushed every trigger of my developmental trauma, every fear of abandonment. It reaffirmed the deep mental programming that I am inherently worthless, and that I did not deserve better. I spent a long time feeling like I must have engineered the failure of the relationship alone, that I got what I deserved. Yet, the innate sense of betrayal and abandonment was like a hangnail catching on everything and sending shockwaves of pain through me.

It took time, but I've grown enough to learn to validate my pain. I never deserved to have such a relationship end that way. I didn't deserve his mother's resentful discrimination. I didn't deserve to have a partner fail to advocate for my worth. And I never deserved to have my heart obliterated by the cowardice of ghosting.

From what I've been able to observe from this distant internet stranger's perspective is that you were pulling the weight of communication in the relationship. You were expressing your needs, you were making clear your anxieties and asking for the very reasonable amount of support anyone in a partnership can and should be reasonably asking for. His cowardly retreat and subsequent ghosting after 5 years of your pouring love and effort into building something together is despicable. And though your posts show that you know that you don't deserve what they both did, knowing and feeling don't always show up together. I am familiar with the pain that visits you now, and I know that feeling seen can be a drink of water in a desert of pain.

I hope that as you begin to navigate the coming weeks and months that your wisdom of the truth that you didn't deserve this can saturate through to your aching heart. You have demonstrated that you are prepared to show up and own your responsibility, to use skill and tools to build something with your partners and navigate all that through the problems that come with mental illness. We all fuck up sometimes, but a supportive partner shows grace and forgiveness for mistakes. They don't tell you that you're the one not trying/working hard enough for them, they don't ever assume that they have no responsibility in a situation.

You don't deserve what they did and didn't do. And though this reveals so much about their (and especially his) deeper character, that you deserve better... This grief will hurt. It will linger and touch every moment of life for a time. Knowing that it won't last forever won't change the way the heart feels like this pain will be everlasting. Your strength and resilience is truly remarkable. You have an amazing insight and wisdom about your responsibility for your own behaviour in relationship dynamics, and you clearly know that you were doing more than your share of the emotional labour. You know that despite your needs and struggles that you deserved to have that effort reciprocated.

But like I said, knowing and feeling don't always coexist. I hope that in those moments of dissonance that you feel the support of your network, both on and offline. Thank you for all the work you do just by showing up and working towards good. Even as I reach out to offer support, I feel supported in kind by just the opportunity to talk about my resonant experience. I hope you feel that support too 💜

I am feeling the support and I am so touched by the outpouring of support my inbox has received since this situation escalated. I am not answering every individual ask, but I am reading all of them and I truly appreciate that so many people agree that this is horrible and that I did not deserve this shit. Even strangers who only knows me through this blog. It is very affirming to know that so many people agree that I was not the irrational and toxic person in this and that you all see good in me

[darkshrimpemotions]

i think your post on guillermo’s reluctance to kill as a vampire is so true and is the nuance that is lacking a lot in the discussion around s5!! I don’t feel that it is totally unreasonable that he would hesitate to kill an innocent person directly. i am actually working on a fic rn where im trying to stretch out the end of s5 a bit more and get more into guillermo’s mindset. i think him struggling with the morality of being a vampire and finding solutions could have been a whole season tbh

Oooo I hope when your fic is done you'll tag me! I love the fics that really get into Guillermo’s thought process and mindset, especially in regards to the many quandries and contradictions around the death and violence that is part and parcel of his life as a familiar, a slayer, and a vampire.

Like here's a guy who's already crossed far over some pretty serious moral lines years before we ever meet him. He's already at the point where he can justify treating his fellow humans as disposable and luring them to their deaths, all in service to his master's short-term gratification and his own ultimate goal. And cutting himself off from other humans is part of that!

Guillermo had no real human connections at the start of the series. He barely saw his family. He'd never had a boyfriend. He wasn't connected with other familiars much, despite a community clearly existing. His only friend was Jeremy and they weren't super close.

If Nandor had turned him on his ten-year anniversary or even on their big world tour, I think it might have been different. Guillermo's only consistent companions at that point were vampires. He was very single-minded in his goal and had little in his life that wasn't ultimately about vampires in some way.

But season 4 is when Guillermo started making more human connections again. He started seeing his family more. He started dating Freddie. He was co-parenting baby Colin. He also spent some amount of time around Marwa and Nandor's 36 other wives. That's more regular, consistent human interaction than he got the prior twelve years combined. It's much harder to view human life as expendable when you've reconnected with your own humanity.

I do feel like they could have done so much with Guillermo's vampire journey in season 5, it actually has a lot of character, dramatic, comedic potential (and horny potential) ...but at the same time I kinda think that's what fanfic is for! I didn't go into a half-hour comedy mockumentary about vampires expecting tons of introspection within the source material itself, you know? But it's still a little annoying to see people act like Guillermo was being stupid to have an issue, especially when I actually feel like they really earned that season finale!

[octocurse]

i dont know ANYTHING about splatoon and dont really care to invest beyond aesthetics because that game is SO GOOD on aesthetics if it wasnt a mainly online game that costs an unreasonable amount of money for me i probably would be all over it hehe HOWEVER IM STARTING TO TANGENT my point is i love your funny guys theyre soo cool i esp love bells design a whole ton its just so good i love how her hair almost mimicks demon horns which paired with her nervous appearance makes me think she might have problems with morality or something.. im always a sucker for spiral eyes and her right (her left our right) tentacle hair thing being mangled is just a real nice shape and balances her out with her scar on the left of her face.. PLUS her colors are so pleasing...

aughh i especially love how you drew her in the umbrealla meme image shes just soooo good there immediately captivated me AUGH i should catch up on ur lore for them or smth bell has CAPTURED ME youve DONE IT youve caught me by putting a strange scared character under a box with a stick + string

you drawing bell: 🪤🪤🪤🪤

me: CHEESE chees for me maybe???? che [[i am trapped under your splatoon themed box]]

erm... ill try to find a way to catch up on ur silly lore.. i <3 bell... your designs are all really nice but bell was the straw on this camels back so to speak hehe anyways... hope youre well :-P i never can find much to send asks over but i think ur cool lol 👍 take care my friend

GAAAH THANK YOUUUFHCHDHGJJFFBVNNFNRJGJFFJ I’m literally abt to cry so muchvhbhfhhghfh THANK YOUHUUUU

Bell is so silly … I spent like 5 minutes on their design each time I drew them before finally settling on this one . I like asymmetry so . Bell has differebt stuff on each side .

I haven’t thought of Bell much so I don’t have a ton of lore for them but I promise you will get to hear more soon . You will . Get ready . You can’t escape Bell . /silly

Yoylechess I adore you . Thank you .

[vinbee631]

13 - The Bar Isn’t the Best Place to Find Advice, Thank God We’re In the Hallway

Prodigal Sons and Daughters Alike

If Janus had known private high school was going to be filled with as much teenage angst as regular public high school, he never would have bothered with the hours of work it took to apply.

Little Janus angst for the soul, title loosely based on Shape of You by Ed Sheeran because I Could Not Think of Anything Else and it's funny.

god, i love their dynamic so much.

If Janus had known private high school was going to be filled with as much teenage angst as regular public high school, he never would have bothered with the hours of work it took to apply.

That was only partially untrue, unfortunately.

It did not help that he’d chosen a track that was full of the most dramatic individuals on the planet: actors and dancers. 

Yes, he was also very dramatic, what of it? It takes one to know one, after all. He reserved the right to be critical of all his whiny classmates, when he too, spent an unreasonable amount of time complaining and being a pain in the ass. 

It would seem, with every bone in his body being the dramatic and sarcastic ones, that he would fit in well with his department.

The fact that his only ‘friends,’ if you could even call them that, were exclusively his dormmates, only one of which was even close to being in his track, did not back up that statement whatsoever.

Despite being much more outspoken than a certain recluse roommate the twins had initially taken to creating conspiracy theories about and inevitably started scheming about instead of actually talking to him, Janus did not succeed in the department of making and keeping friends, he never had.

So, when faced with the sudden reminder one of his classes involved a semester-long group project without assigned partners, he realized he had just been royally fucked, pardon the french.

It was enough to forget about the fact he was supposed to be planning his big get-to-know-Virgil thing the others had been chatting about excitedly for a few days now.

Logan’s success on the matter didn’t help, either. There was now an expectation that Janus had to come up with something convincing enough that Virgil would actually agree to it, he didn’t have the crutch of someone else’s failure. No, that would be too easy.

With all that in mind, it was a bit easier to explain how he found himself in his next, and most current, predicament. One that he literally ran into as he was distractedly making his way to his next class.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. One would think that brainstorming and walking would be easy to multitask, but I’ve never been the type to effectively do two things at once.” Janus crouched down to help the poor sap he’d rammed into gather the papers they’d been carrying.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” the person replied, and Janus glanced up to find he recognized that prickly voice. He smirked up at Virgil, handing him the rest of his scattered papers.

“Well, if my apology isn’t good enough, I’m not quite sure what else you expect from me. As great as turning back time would be, that is unfortunately not in my skillset at this time.” A filter in this situation would have been immensely helpful, but he was pleasantly surprised at Virgil’s snort in response.

“Really? It’s not that hard to learn. I took an online course over the summer, you should consider it,” Virgil snarked back, surprisnging himself and Janus.

The latter scoffed. “Not all of us have ample free time to evolve beyond human nature, although if you have any better, less time-consuming options, I hope you will keep me in the loop, yes?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “If you don’t have the patience for the zoom meetings, that’s on you. But sure, if I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know, I guess.”

“Good, it’s the least you could do after rubbing your privilege in my face. Although… here’s an idea, perhaps we would both benefit from you teaching me instead? I wouldn’t get to complain about how hard to access the classes are, and you wouldn’t get to complain about my- laziness, or whatever,” Janus proposed sarcastically, inspecting his fingernails casually.

“Ah, I don’t know enough to be a teacher. I barely know enough to use it, to be honest, hence why I didn’t reverse time to stop this whole thing from happening. It’s finicky, takes years to perfect, and even longer to master it enough to teach it to someone.”

“Well, you see my predicament then! I’m not going to start learning something that takes years if I don’t have the time or motivation to do so. So I’ll appreciate you refraining from any judgment,” Janus continued, surprised Virgil was putting up with him for this long, but he was not about to point that out.

Virgil raised his hands in mock surrender. “I concede to you point. Although, I never said you had to master it, just that I was shocked you wouldn’t make an effort to try it out… Anyway, I gotta…uh, get to class now… Good talk.”

Janus nodded, a bit too scatterbrained to wave goodbye. In hindsight, that was his chance to keep Virgil’s attention, to offer to walk to class with him or carry the papers he had previously scattered, or- something. 

Virgil surprised him once again by taking that step for him.

“Is… is everything- good?” When Janus glanced back up, he realized Virgil hadn’t, in fact, left for his class. He even had the decency to look a bit concerned for him, how sweet.

“Uh… yes, never been better,” Janus stammered to reply when he realized he’d taken a bit too long in his shock to respond, “why do you ask? I thought you had a very important class to be getting to.” Virgil shrugged. “You just… looked like something was- up, I guess.” He fidgeted with the straps of his bag as he spoke, obviously just as uncomfortable as Janus was with the question. 

“Do you actually care?” Janus asked honestly. “I mean, I’m sure you have better ways to spend your time than listening to me complain about something I will likely have resolved in a week or two.”

Virgil simply shrugged again, going as far as to step to the side so they weren’t in the way of anyone walking past. “I have time, actually. And, I don’t know that I’ve seen you express any emotion other than smug, so you have me intrigued.”

Janus laughed. “I suppose that’s not entirely innacurate. I… suppose it sounds a bit silly out loud, but, well… I have yet to find a partner for a semester-long group project, and everyone in that class has already found someone to work with. And, as fun as it would be to interrupt someone’s hard work, joining an already established group would completely throw off all of my ideas.”

Virgil nodded in sympathy, pursing his lips. “I mean… does it have to be someone in that class? Like, I’m sure whoever the teacher is has other periods. Maybe, someone else in another class is looking for a partner?”

“It seems we do think alike,” Janus smiled grimly. “I already tried that, asked the teacher and everything. He said I have to join a group within my class, it would be too complicated to not be able to utilize our class time to finish the project.”

“Huh, I guess that’s reasonable. Sucks for you though…” Among all the outcomes Janus had complied in his head of this particular conversation, Virgil making an honest effort to help him had not been one. But hey, help was help, he wasn’t going to refuse it just because he was surprised it was happening.

“What… what kind of project is it? Is it something you can just- word-gymnastics your way into doing by yourself?” Another idea Janus had considered, and he shook his head ruefully.

“Um, well, I have the syllabus and assignment sheet if you even care that much. It’s a production class, more theater tech than acting, but we have to script and perform something, and we can either record it ourselves or perform it live. Has to be a collaboration, unfortunately, unless I want to fail the class.”

“Hm, you really are stuck,” Virgil muttered, reading over the papers Janus had handed to him. Now that he was this invested, he supposed there was no turning back. Honestly, he did kind of feel bad. He wouldn’t have said anything in the first place, but Janus had suddenly looked so- stressed. He wasn’t sure why that had tugged at his gut in the uncomfortable way it did, but now he was too far in to question that feeling.

“Oh, wait, maybe… I know your teacher said it had to be someone in that same period, but what if it’s someone not in the same class? You could… uh, write the whole thing yourself or whatever, then find someone you’re friends with to help put it on? Just like, anyone, but it might help if they’re at least in the same track, or track adjacent.”

Janus blinked, slowly smiling. “Huh, you’re onto something. I could try it. Honestly, I wouldn’t know who to ask, but if I get permission, that’s a start.”

“...Well, what about someone you see a lot? Like… one of our roommates or something?” Virgil suggested. “I know you guys spend a lot of time together, so it could be a fun side project, and you would still have plenty of time to actually…y’know, work together without the class time?”

Janus blinked. That was… actually really smart. “Well, I wouldn’t want to jump the gun. I will still have to check and ensure I am allowed to outsource my partner. But, that is really smart. Thanks, I- I really appreciate the help.”

“Hey, man, not a problem. Just as long as I don’t have to go talk to any teachers for you.” Virgil smirked, and Janus met his tentative eye contact with an appreciative smirk.

“First I make you listen to my problems, and help me with them, then I force you into social interaction? You think so cruelly of me, Virgil, I would never!” 

Virgil snickered behind one of his hands. “You didn’t make me do anything, but… well, you’d be amazed at how selfish people can be.”

“Nah, I get it. One favor can turn into forging someone’s homework for the rest of the school year. I dunno what the public school system was getting at, but there are no benefits to being a smart kid,” Janus bemoaned.

“Bold of you to assume I was allowed to go to public school but yeah, something like that.” Virgil grimaced as he realized what had just come out of his mouth. 

“What- what do you mean by allowed?” 

“Nothing… just- um, forget it. See you.” Janus supposed he’d touched a nerve, as he watched Virgil speed off. Although, he had bigger problems to worry about at the moment. Namely, another debate with the offending semester project teacher.

Although, maybe he would be trying to have more conversations like that soon. Virgil was quite witty, and seemingly without even trying to be. 

And, he was also responsible for Janus’ success in his project, when later that afternoon, Roman enthusiastically agreed to help, but only after he begged for the details of the conversation earlier. 

Huh, he supposed this whole, befriending Virgil business was going to work out after all. With any luck, the others would have the same luck he and Logan had.

Oh, and that Virgil would get the hint and begin spending time with them willingly, that too, of course.

[gettothestabbing]

Friendship issues

So I impulsively bought concert tickets for an older band I like a few months ago. And I say tickets plural because I thought, hey, this concert is in a city my old acquaintance X, who I recently started talking to regularly, lives in. I should invite him! It would be fun to get together and I feel like treating someone to something. So I did. He liked the idea and said yes.

Today I got a strong feeling that I should remind him of the date now that it’s only a month away. He quickly responds, “Oh, I won’t be back from my trip then, sorry.”

I know, from our conversations, that his trip details weren’t finalized until after I had invited him to this concert. I’ve never been to a live concert before, so I don’t know if my tickets are relatively cheap or not, but to me, it was a significant amount to pay. We hadn’t seen each other in person in some time. And it’s not some conflict with a significant other, since neither of us have one.

I told him that his forgetting hurt my feelings, he wrote me a carefully worded apology (which also implied that I had been told his trip details weren’t finalized at the time), and I accepted it. But I almost wish I hadn’t. It feels like, when someone is making an effort to apologize to you, you should accept it most of the time. It’s not that he didn’t apologize properly. The format was correct. But from the careless way he actually treated this invitation, and his failure to tell me on his own (having to be prompted) that he couldn’t make it, I don’t think he really sees this as important. And I feel like now that I have accepted this apology, there’s almost no way to express my continuing sense of hurt without coming across as unreasonable or as holding a grudge.

Blah blah blah, girls overanalyze and boys are straightforward. That’s kind of why I still feel hurt. I thought that this person respected me and my time, at least enough to give me a heads up if plans changed. And clearly, that’s just not the case. I had been looking forward to this, for a lot of reasons, and he didn’t even try to schedule his trip around it. I know the nature of the trip and it wouldn’t have been that difficult. So he just forgot it completely, didn’t even write it down. Wow.

(And honestly, I used to have a crush on this guy in college. Since we’re both single, and he is a rare unicorn who shares both my political and religious beliefs, I hoped to form a deeper connection. But obviously he doesn’t even think highly of me as a friend, despite our having talked almost daily for almost 6 months.)

I’m really tired and sad thinking about this pattern of friendships where I’m emotionally invested and the other person appears to be too, until they decide to just stop pretending and drop me. I had a friend I talked with regularly and had worked with. The moment she found out (how, I don’t know) that we voted differently, she spent multiple days messaging me long, condescending things trying to change my mind in time for the 2020 election before ceasing to speak to me altogether. She couldn’t put this one difference between us aside for a multi-year friendship.

Several times when I worked in New Jersey, I would befriend staff members that were close to my age. We had fun together, and I helped them drive to things or figure out American stuff if they were on a visa here. But often, after I would do something big for them (helping pick out a wedding dress, taking care of their pet, etc.), they would thank me and then just stop talking to me almost at all. They found my most useful point of existence for their life and decided that it wasn’t worth the time investing in a relationship with me anymore.

Not every adult friendship has been like this. But a fairly large portion of them have. It is hard to predict which relationships I invest in will continue for a long time and which will abruptly fall off a cliff.

[inanthesis]

it may have been a bit unreasonable for diluc to have asked his lover to stay out in the vineyard with him and toil away picking the best grapes that would eventually turn into teyvat's finest wine, but there's nothing quite like spending time together knowing he wouldn't have to leave first thing in the morning, or even at the end of the day when all was said and done. there was work to be done, but the young master was content for once to simply enjoy the consultant's company instead of an extra pair of hands. it was a long journey from liyue harbor to the dawn winery, and diluc could understand that no small amount of fatigue had accrued from the journey over. so he recounted the day's events, telling his beloved all about a certain cavalry captain's antics and their beloved, and far too spoiled feline companion's journey with him to the angel's share, where he valiantly fended off any would - be drunken archons with his presence alone. diluc could only smile to himself as he imagined what zhongli would have looked like seeing the dejected bard all but flee the tavern.

' alright.. i think that's enough for now. '

satisfied with the haul within his basket, diluc approached the shaded spot where zhongli sat, so he could admire his lovely smile. on rare occasions, he's been known to be far more generous with the affection he gave, and it often began with that grin that all but stole the sun's luster. it warmed his heart to such an extent, that the basket had been set down beside them so he could properly regard him. ' you look no worse for wear than usual, darling. ' a tease, of course— diluc could only think of this man as far too charming.

it takes only a second longer for master diluc to remove his hat that once shaded him from the harsh sun bearing down on him and place it atop zhongli's head, a finger hooking under his jaw to tilt his head up that he might kiss his beloved for the simple reason that he was far too fond of him. ' i wasn't expecting you so soon, but i can't say i'm not pleasantly surprised. '

( for 1 dragon boyfriend )

While it was never ideal to have time spent in Mondstadt with any amount of separation from his dearly beloved, Zhongli truly had little to complain about as he was allowed to rest comfortably in the shade with a refreshing drink as Diluc diligently worked the vineyard. Without having to toil away under the harsh sun himself, the retired god could simply listen as Diluc told him about his day and shameless admire the young man's every movement as well as how there was truly no word other than cute he could ascribe to how he looked with that sun hat and precious smile on his face once he was satisfied with a job well done.

"Flattery just may get you anywhere, dear." There was no real attempt to hide his anticipation for what he was sure would come next. Diluc had been in an amicable mood since he'd arrived, had even allowed him to sit out on hard work he may otherwise have required him to participate in, and that left Zhongli all warm smiles as he found himself donning the cute sun hat and happily meeting the other in a kiss which ended far too soon- but then, they all did no matter their length.

"What if I were to say my primary reason I felt it necessary to make my way here was knowledge a certain mutual acquaintance stopped by Liyue Harbor to tell me he would be here as well and I hoped to lessen whatever potential disasters may occur upon your meeting?" Brow quirked curiously, testing the waters only because it was a bit fun teasing Diluc in his own ways. "Or perhaps it is a mere coincidence for Director Hu has begun making certain I offer proper compensation for how often I request time away. That girl is perfectly content to use me as an errand boy. I've yet to decide how I feel about that... but I suppose it is well worth the time I'm allowed to spend with you, baobei."

[kathleenmarymulligan]

December 18, 2022

Hello from Amritsar, the holy city of the Sikhs, in the heart of the Indian Punjab. I told many of you I would do a blog while I’m on this adventure—and tonight I feel the courage to make a start of it- with the fog of jet lag finally lifting, and things looking a bit more hopeful in the accommodation department.

After a relatively painless journey to the other side of the globe (170.00 well spent for exit row seats), David and I arrived in Delhi late in the evening of December 13. It was a challenge for our driver to find the Vandana Guest House- but we were warmly greeted by the inn keeper, who assured me that the late hour was no problem: he was up watching the World Cup match. The next morning, a car brought us to the Fulbright office in Delhi, where I had an orientation with Priyanjana Gosh and Pavitra Soram. After so many emails with them over the past months, it was wonderful to finally meet these two fabulous women in person.

A high point of the day was catching up with Executive Director Adam Grotsky, whom we first met during my Fulbright in 2010. We learned that Adam shares our love of dogs, and he introduced us to Patrick (the three-legged pup) and Juan – both rescued from the streets of Delhi. I will confess that I fell hopelessly in love with Patrick at first sight.

The next day, we headed to the train station for the six-hour journey to Amritsar. I’ve spent a fair amount of time in India, and this was not my first encounter with train travel. But trying to board a train with a ridiculous amount of luggage (yeah- we overpacked, and I also have all of my props for The Belle of Amherst), and a platform that required a steep climb up one staircase and a descent at the far end of the station required some help. The porters were more than willing- in fact aggressive in their attempts to assist. But our driver Ajay was not ready to allow the porters to charge us what he felt was a ridiculous price. After some unsuccessful negotiating, Ajay removed his pristine white jacket and insisted on helping us get to the platform (with the help of one porter, who carried two of our incredibly heavy bags on his head.) Ajay got us to the platform and adamantly refused to accept a tip. He was a lifesaver.

The Amritsar Shatabdi Express rolled into the station, and with the help of two porters, we got our luggage safely stored in the overhead racks. Six hours later, after crossing the Punjab plain, we arrived in Amritsar. After a generously-spirited porter helped us unload our luggage to the platform, David left me to guard our pile while he went in search of assistance. And then, out of the fog (literally)- our driver appeared. After that long and stressful journey he was, as my mother would say, “A sight for sore eyes.” He immediately gathered up an unreasonable share of our luggage, and soon we were deposited in his car and on our way to our temporary digs at the Fairfield Marriot Hotel.

The next day, we headed to the stunning campus of Khalsa College, which will be my place of work for the next six months. We were warmly welcomed by Dr. Devender Singh, the registrar of the college and head of Cultural and Youth programs. We had a chance to meet the drama students, and they shared a 2-minute section of the play they are currently working on based on the short stories of Manto. It confirmed why I pursued this collaboration in the first place. These students are passionate, hungry, and incredibly brave. I am so excited to get to work with them.

Unfortunately, an in-person look at the guest house accommodations proved that they offered very little privacy or space. I had such high hopes of staying on that peaceful and spacious campus. This was a big disappointment, and the last few days have been stressful as we attempt to find a suitable home for the next six months. My number-one concern: I cannot cross the road in front of the college every day to go to work. I will certainly have some sort of nervous collapse if I have to. If you’ve ever tried to cross a busy road in India, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t…imagine trying to cross a six-lane highway during rush hour (remember Eddie Murphy in Bowfinger)—and in addition to cars and trucks, there are auto rickshaws, bicycles, stray dogs, an occasional cow or wild pig, and the ubiquitous scooter. And they are coming at you from all directions. As my grandson Julian used to say when he was tiny: “No Fank you.”

But thanks to another Fulbrighter who just departed, we were put in touch with Sociology Professor Jasdeep, who immediately dropped most everything to join us on the hunt for a rental. Today, we may have seen the place we will settle on- although we will look at a few more tomorrow before committing. Things will feel a lot less overwhelming once that part of this adventure is settled. (The best part of the place we looked at today: two miniature versions of our beloved Tashi named Oreo and Cocoa. Oreo insisted I hold him as we inspected the apartment—much to the dismay of a very jealous Cocoa.)

Oh- and on a trip to the Trilium Mall yesterday…

I was stung by a bee who had taken up residence in my shoe. Ow.

The stone-faced security guard who patted me down in the private inspection booth reached into my bag, removed my tin of Trader Joe’s Ginger Mints, opened it (I assumed she thought there was something threatening hiding in there), popped two in her mouth, and then told me I could go. I burst out laughing…and she remained stone-faced.

More later!

[blahandwhatever]

Spent much time these past few weeks working diligently on various assessments, sometimes job applications, sometimes actual work. Got offered a bit of work that pays fuck all and barely feels worth doing; still didn't get paid for the social media project I did a month ago due to excruciatingly slow processes - probably won't be until mid-December.

Decided I needed to add some credentials or something to my resume to make myself a bit more competitive - one or two for what I already do, since I don't have directly relevant education and some MFs do like to see that regardless of how much experience you have, and maybe more later for some additional skills to expand my range. So I signed up for a certificate program and thought I'd race through that in a couple of weeks but got interrupted by a big project from an old side job I hadn't heard from since January. Both the pay and the expected turnaround were unreasonable for the size of the project, but I badly needed the money, so I took it. Part of me resented the pay and expectations - of this job and so many new ones I've come across still offering wages that would've been abysmal even five years ago. Part of me felt like I was paying some penance for my previous hubris and carelessness and accepted my lot. Part of me thought about all the people who get worked to death on a regular basis and figured, even if I had to join their ranks for a week, all in all, I still didn't have it so bad. (Also, hello past self! Hello past self in your long-commute office job living-with-parents poor-mental-health years of hell.)

The first two days were a big adjustment to being Busy after months of being Not Busy, filled with resentment and distraction. The next two days - last weekend - I got in a zone with it, got a decent amount done while still making plenty of time for other things. Monday was a big marathon I hoped would leave me with a lighter load for Tuesday, maybe a little left over for Wednesday at worst. Tuesday, I didn't get through as much as I'd hoped to, and it was clear there was no way I'd finish that night, so I didn't push myself too hard. Wednesday. Wednesday, I'd hoped to have a chill day between the busy week and Thanksgiving. I still had a decent chunk of the project left, but it seemed manageable. At worst, at least I could relax at night. I got part of it done in the afternoon, went to Whole Foods, came back, had dinner. Client asked if I was close to done. I said 2-3 more hours. I got back to work, feeling pressured and efficient, but two hours in, it was clear I was still far from done. Updated the client that it might be another couple of hours on top of what I'd said. Then those hours passed, and by this point I was consumed by a stress I had not experienced at work in years. Client probably went to bed. I finished around 2:20 AM, desperate for wine I never seem to have when I actually need it. It was hard to wind down, my body tingling with electricity, but I got there eventually, still disappointed with my small sliver of free time.

And then there was Thanksgiving - an unusual one I didn't know what to expect from. My parents still live together but don't talk or see each other much - my mother's postponed the divorce process until January due to some kind of tax complication, and the drama has mostly simmered down (he opened a piece of her mail from an unclear addressee - her boss at work, it turned out - because he's still paranoid about her and men, albeit more quietly. she bit her tongue about it. he said he'd move out by November but didn't. apparently hasn't been working and spends most of his time out playing poker. travels occasionally. sent her pictures from a beach one time). I figured someone in my father's family would host Thanksgiving, but I never heard from anyone. I was going to spend most of it with my mother - who wouldn't be joining them even if invited - in any case.

I managed to get up at an okay time and found that, overnight, I'd developed The Bullshit again in my right eye - thank the relentlessness of yesterday and refusal (big mistake) to take a quick break to wash my eyes when they felt irritated. The redness subsided a bit over time but didn't fully go away. I wanted to get dressed up like always for the holidays, more to make things feel normal for my mother than anything, and spent the usual forever curling my hair. And I thought I'd timed and planned things pretty well, but there's always some things I didn't account for, always so many fucking things, and I ended up running 20 minutes late.

On the way, the world greeted me with so much beauty. Sunshine, big wispy clouds, a trace of a rainbow. Brilliant red trees still going strong, flocks of birds seconds too late to take a picture. I hoped it was a good omen - but it wasn't.

My mother, proudly punctual person that she is, probably resented my lateness a bit. She's used to it - but she goes back and forth between expecting and resenting it. Maybe it matters more on a day like this.

My father was gone - apparently had planned to stay until my mother told him she wasn't having it. Further sign his family probably wasn't doing Thanksgiving.

My brother was home - I, as always, happy to see him but never knowing what to expect. He'd been sick with the flu. He was on the more cranky and withdrawn side of his spectrum.

My mother started out a mix of cheerful and quieter than usual. My brother was unfriendly and a bit rude to her. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she sat in silence, and I felt her heartache - at her efforts never being appreciated, at her inability to connect with her child, at her dearth of family, at her joyless holidays, at her whole life. I wanted badly to think of more to say than I was able to, to liven things up somehow. It's not something I'm great at. I felt the inadequacy I'd felt with her all my life, at being too quiet. Sometimes it was something I was unfairly resented for, but sometimes being a better talker and socializer would genuinely be helpful. And I thought, if my brother and I are the only family she has left, holidays are going to be rough. This is the kind of thing she cares about. Even I felt something lacking. Even when we spent holidays alone, with our father, during COVID, it was a little different. Between him and my mother being talkative, and me somewhat trying, things didn't feel so dead even if my brother was quiet or cranky. Not that I would want my father to be a part now. But still, it's rough. Granted, my brother was sick and tired and maybe that affected things too. My mother had said he'd generally been friendlier with her lately. But he'd also refused her suggestions of medication and rest instead of going out, which made her feel bad too.

I remembered my mother mentioning she'd like to learn to play cards, or chess, and went searching for the cards or chessboard that had been in the house somewhere, asked my brother for help, couldn't find them anywhere. Desperate, I drove to Walgreens, bought a pack of cards, dragged over my tired reluctant brother, and played a game with them both. Then I played some more with my mother. I don't know that it made her happy per se, but at least it was a pleasant little distraction. Then she talked about her life and her health and how she was thinking of moving out because she couldn't keep living like this with my father.

My father came home at the same time as I did from Walgreens, his face stressed and weathered. We shared a cursory hug and Thanksgiving wishes. I felt kind of bad if he didn't get to have dinner with either family - he, like my mother, is the kind of person who needs that stuff. I don't really know how to feel about him now. His every transgression against my mother has made me feel intolerant toward him, but I feel sorry for him at the same time, and I don't know if being untethered from all meaningful relationships won't make him lose his mind more.

Anyway, he went to his room, and I didn't see him after that.

All in all, it was a pretty depressing affair, every person in that house unhappy, ever the cesspool of misery.

Afterward, I felt very tired and a bit sniffly for a couple of days. Friday, I had no energy and let myself do pretty much nothing. It was deserved after the past week. Yesterday, I managed to go to a store and do a few chores. Today I did a job application and a small work project, and was supposed to do more around the house at night but got sleepy. Overnight, it snowed, which I wasn't quite ready for, but after Thanksgiving, I can live with it.

Despite the unloading of heavy stuff here, there is so much more, and life is still largely good.

Now I'm hoping for a productive - but not stressful - end of November.

[dangeles]

Please help a struggling artist.

Hi everyone.

I'll try my best to word this as well as I can; this is a plea for help.

I'm Donna, a 27 yr old freelancing queer+POC female artist.

As my Tumblr activity would suggest, my favourite thing to do is make fandom artwork, it brings me joy like no other. That has come to a standstill as in the past few months I've been unable to make ends meet with unexpected bills, having been kicked out of my previous apartment, and spending a lot of time and money in hunting for a new one in a dire time limit.

I've been holing up temporarily in an acquaintance's home for a very minimal charge, but her kindness can only extend till the end of June as she is moving away and giving her place up for rent for an amount I cannot afford anymore.

I have found a smaller place, but I still do not have enough to make the deposit/the rent that I need to pay by next week or I will lose the place. I'm down to my last trickle of savings that I can rely on for food alone.

In a week's time, I will be homeless and broke; I do not have a vehicle to crash in or any friends in the city I can approach who could accommodate me. I cannot return to my conservative parents in my hometown, I would have to give up my freedom as an artist and return to a closet I spent all my twenties working hard to get out of.

I've been living every day in constant debilitating anxiety and panic. Searching for a safe/affordable apartment and a paying job simultaneously is using up all my energy and will; my mental health has taken a massive hit with subsequent depression.

I'm on my last few dregs of hope and you guys here are it.

Tdlr; I humbly ask you for consideration in the form of donations.

I have linked my payment gateways: | KOFI | Stripe |

It would be extremely helpful to receive any amount at all; even a single dollar from a person counts and may help keep me afloat for a few months while I search for a job that could support me.

If a donation is not possible, signal boosting this post helps too. Please help me reach as many people as possible.

I'm being very optimistic by keeping a goal of $1,500; even though a part of me thinks that's highly unreasonable, I have hope, and it's all I have at this point.

My dear friend @enterthetadpole (an absolute angel who has helped me as much as she can) tells me how the fandom helped her when she was in need of desperate help, so I hope I too can turn to this space that has kept my spirits from waning completely out of me. Fandom content has been a safe haven; reading fics, looking at art, and poring through all the discourses here help me forget some of the fear and anxiety that grips me constantly.

I want to be able to give back to the community with art and sketches soon. I want to be able to open commissions again once my living situation is sorted.

Art is bread and butter, and my happy place.

Kindly help me get there again.

-Donna

...

Tagging any who can help boost -

@camphipp @athene-noctua08 @enterthetadpole @writingloud @sherlockedcarmilla @flecker-illustrates @totallysilvergirl @podfixx @katherynefromphilly @arthur-rex @barbsiebabe @natillynoo-blog

[mountmasxn]

Well Done Mr Goal Scorer

You tease with Mason after an eventful day. 

Today started out just like any other day. You and Mason woke up early so you could both have a slow morning together, a habit that you both had been trying hard to establish. You kissed him goodbye as he went for his light pre-match training session before meeting him again in the late afternoon for a small lunch in between your brand meetings and to wish him good luck since you couldn’t make it to the game in person tonight. 

You expected lunch to be a quiet affair where you could just enjoy your own company, but you spent most of it comforting an upset Mason and convincing him that his beloved Chelsea would survive this horrible period. Your boyfriend very much felt like Chelsea couldn’t catch a break recently due to a series of bad luck, so you took it upon yourself to spend tonight making him feel better. 

After sending your ritual good luck text to Mason, you set to work at making your living room a place of absolute relaxation for your boyfriend. You had stopped at Tesco on the way home and bought an unreasonable amount of junk food for the two of you to, despite Mason’s in-season diet. You planned on having a movie night with him. Simple but effective. The two of you would get to spend time together watching movies you both enjoyed and nights like that usually ended with slow, lazy sex on the sofa, so who was gonna complain. 

But when Mason scored his goal you knew tonight was gonna take a different direction. Instead of the moppy boyfriend you had earlier you were gonna have an incredibly cocky goal scoring boyfriend who was hyped on adrenaline. 

So that’s how you ended up sitting on the sofa flicking through Netflix in a black robe hidden under a blanket in an attempt to conceal the surprise you had now planned. 

You heard the front door open and your boyfriend take off his coat and leave his kit bag in the hall way. Your cockapoo puppy Toby leaped from his spot on your knee to go and great his daddy. You heard Mason greet him in his usual energetic manner and you couldn’t help but laugh because you didn’t know who had more energy; your 10 month old pup or your 23 year old boyfriend. 

Mason eventually made his way into you and jumped over the back of the sofa to give you a hug and a kiss. After a series of kisses being placed all over your face your pushed him away and smiled at him. ‘Someone’s happy. Anything exciting happen?’ Mason looked at you in disbelief as his smile dropped. He thought you watched the match and therefore he thought you seen his goal. 

Your plan was working. You were gonna pretend to have not watched the match to see how far you could push Mason. Your hopes were for this to end in the bedroom with an over cocky, dominate boyfriend. So far it was working. 

You focused on keeping a straight face as your began your lie. ‘Oh no I missed it, my mum called and I ended up on the phone to her for a while and then I decided that I wanted a pamper night so I had a nice longer shower, I shaved, exfoliated, I done my in-depth skincare and now I’m here on the sofa about to watch The Notebook. Chill night.’ 

‘So you didn’t watch my game?’ Mason breathed out. ‘No sorry Mase, I didn’t realise the time until the game was over. Besides you were only playing Norwich so wasn’t really an important game.’ It was taking all your energy to keep your face straight so your avoided eye contact and kept petting Toby who was curled up between his parents. 

‘Seriously? Y/N, are you actually being serious? You knew how upset I was earlier and how I wanted this game to go well so we could prove to fans tha-’ 

You cut him off his rant by smashing your lips on his and using your hand that now rested on the back of his head to push him closer to you. ‘Well done Mr Goal scorer.’ You teased as you punctuated every word with a kiss. 

Mason pulled away from you with a small laugh as he ran his hand up and down the material of your robe. ‘You are a menace.’ He joked as he pulled you into him again. Your kissed deepened, although you couldn’t get too close as your dog was still seated between the two of you. 

You pulled away from Mason and kept your hands pressed against his chest to ensure that he stayed at arms length and didn’t try to get you to stay on the sofa with him. You got yourself out from under the blanket and stood in front of him with a smirk glued on your face. ‘Y/N what are you doing?’ Mason asked almost in frustration. 

‘I think the Man of the Match deserves a reward don’t you?’ You said trying to be as seductive as possible as you slowly untied your robe to reveal a royal blue lace bra and matching thong. You knew what this set done to Mason. You hadn’t wore it since the night of the Club World Cup and it was safe to say you could hardly walk the next day. 

Mason’s eyes widened and you could see his adam’s apple bob in his throat and him subtly move his hands to cover Toby’s eyes. You started to back away from him and before he could speak you got your words out. ‘I bought a can of whipped cream earlier, I’ll meet you upstairs.’