#language breakdown

[learnelle]

My Baudelaire presentation + essay are finally submitted! I’m basically done with this evening diploma in French and honestly… it’s a relief. Consistency really pays off, even when the end doesn’t seem in sight ⭐️

[natelia-aldelliz]

more ghost!Roach with accidental necromancer Soap, their first interaction !

(please ignore the fact that i can't draw the same character twice lmao)

[tealvenetianmask]

Again, I'll be more coherent later but

The fucking realistic anxiety and depression from both of them . . .

The closed in body language from Stolas.

They NEED to figure this out. If they can't do this, there's no hope for the rest of us.

[divatheeva]

[acatpiestuff]

Emmet realizing that Ingo was teleported back to gear station only to discover that Ingo speaks in a strange language and does not understand him at all(?)

I think that Emmet would be a little sad

Translation: What did you say? And who are you??

[arachnitech]

i know pride month alredy passed but i like the idea of miles parents thinking he is dating ganke and wanting to get him some gifts for pride month but they´re trying to figure it out if miles is gay, bi, pan or something else, so they just keep saying things like "we love you no matter what", "we love you" and "we are proud to call you our son" and poor miles is just freaking out in his dorm like "holy shit they know ganke THEY KNOW" and ganke is just like "damn sucks to be you"

[molkolsdal]

sitar

long-necked stringed Indian musical instrument, 1845, from Hindi sitar, from Persian sitar "three-stringed," from si "three" + tar "string"

zither

stringed musical instrument, 1850, from German Zither, from Old High German zitara, from Latin cithara, from Greek kithara

kithara

an ancient Greek stringed instrument, which could be considered a forerunner of the guitar, according to Beekes, acquired from Pre-Greek. Probably ultimately derived from or at least related to Proto-Hurro-Urartian *kinnar (“lyre, harp”)

guitar

from Spanish guitarra, from Arabic قِيثَارَة‎ (qīṯāra), from Latin cithara, from Ancient Greek κιθάρα (kithára)

[randomthunk]

I love the fact that everything about Odo is his own construct, so his hair being out of place in "Crossfire" is another sign of him coming undone. That's the good stuff right there.

[sorenwuzhere]

A Good Night's Meal

Meshinuma thirst.

cw: dom!reader, reader has a dick, sub!character, sub!Iinuma, dacryphilia, somnophilia(?), dub-con, quite a long buildup, not proofread

You were a new employee at the company, there wasn't that much remarkable thing about this company, but recently something- no someone has caught your attention.

Iinuma or as they call him- Meshinuma. He was a plain guy, not much to see about him you've talked with him every now and then he seemed like a chill guy.

You were out an a late night, your boss was lenient on you so you could spend nights all by yourself, coming in a udon restaurant you seem to notice a certain someone from your department, it was Iinuma.

"Hey Iinuma what're you doing here so late?" You ask him as you take a seat "Just wanted to grab a bite" Iinuma curtly responded, you nodded and the conversation ended there. Finally your food had arrived you thank them for your food before digging in, in the midst of eating you glance at your coworker only to see him making such an erotic expression, your eyes widened as he finished his noodles and thanked the food. After eating Iinuma drank his water and sort of just stayed there unmoving, perhaps was he worried that it would be rude to leave you here alone when you approached him? No Iinuma didn't seem to be the type to worry about those things

Iinuma was worried you'd see him rude if he left you here alone. You did approach him after all. Iinuma normally wouldn't care in these situations of what people would think of him, but he still didn't want to leave a bad impression.

You finally finished eating and thanked the food, glancing at your side you notice that Iinuma was still there, you asked him if he was done and he said yes explaining that he wanted some time to digest his food before going home.

You decide to walk Iinuma to the station, you chat while you were there and eventually your topic has reached food, you observed Iinuma talk passionately about food, this seemed to be the only time where he would express a bit of emotion even if it's not that much, he also showed you his little notepad where he keeps tabs of restaurants he liked you found it interesting and asked if he could take you to some restaurants sometime, and surprisingly he agreed.

After a bit more walking the two of you were able to reach the train station, you were about to leave when you heard a barely audible gasp from Iinuma

"What's wrong?" you asked the solemn man

"The last train already left" he sighed

"Already? But-" upon looking at your watch you realized how late it was, indeed the last train has already left

"Do you want to stay over at my apartment?"

.

.

.

"You have a nice place" Iinuma said to which you replied with a small "thanks" the both of you took of your shoes and made your way inside

Iinuma sat at the living room floor in front of your small table, you fetch him water from the kitchen and then told him to be comfortable

"Do you want to take a bath? I can lend you some clothes for now" You offer, Iinuma was reluctant at first but you insisted and he eventually gave in and took a bath.

"I'll sleep in the couch and you can sleep on my bed the bedroom's just there" you point him to where your bedroom is at Iinuma shook his head refusing to let you sleep on the couch. The two of you compromised and decided to sleep next to each other on your bed.

You woke up to a hard on, Iinuma was grinding against you unconsciously, you groaned and held his waist to make him stop rubbing against you

"Iinuma" you whispered against his ear, Iinuma shuffled and eventually woke up to your groaning

Iinuma felt your hard on against his bottom and blushed profusely

"W-what are you doing-" Iinuma was cut off by a moan from his throat upon feeling you press against him

"You were grinding against me in your sleep" you groaned subconsciously humping his ass

"I-I wa- hahh!" Iinuma couldn't deny anything with you grinding against him he pushed you and attempted to get up and process what was happening, but you didn't let him. You pulled him back down and placed him on top of you

"Where are you going? You did this to me you know?" You told him pressing your hard on against him

Iinuma let out a moan before shaking his head and denying it

"I didn't mean to- ah!" Iinuma yelped when you grabbed his ass and massaged it, he fell on your chest trembling grabbing onto your shirt in an attempt to hold himself together

"What are you going to do now? You have to take responsibility" You told him, inserting your hands inside of his underwear and massaging his flesh

Iinuma whined not being able to let out a single word, he was so sensitive no one's ever touched him this way before, he can't handle it! He has to push you or else this would escalate into something more and he might not be able to control himself!

"Iinuma" you whispered his name seductively and all of Iinuma's will to push you and get away were washed away.

You held him by the waist and placed him down on the bed, you were about to reach in your bedroom drawer when Iinuma caught your hand

"Wait- why'd you stop?" Iinuma slurred, panting heavily

"I need to take some lube so you won't get hurt" you told him kissing his forehead, he nodded obediently

"I'll start now" You say as you start lubing up your hands and getting to work inserting a finger in his hole

"I'll make you feel good" Iinuma whimpered trying his best to not whine too much while feeling your fingers move around him

"Hm!" Iinuma jolted and let out such an erotic voice you almost came on the spot

Iinuma immediately slapped his palm on his mouth feeling embarrassed of the sound that came out of his lips. He kept on whimpering as you kept on hitting his sensitive spot repeatedly.

"I can't handle this anymore" you sighed and took out your fingers in his ass

"w-what's" Iinuma failed to finish his sentence when you pulled your boxers down, his eyes widened at your size, are you seriously going to do it now?

"W-wait I haven't mentally prepared myself for-!" Iinuma yelped when you started entering your tip inside him

"Fuck you're so tight" Iinuma whined at your breathy voice, you couldn't handle it anymore, you wanted to fuck his hole already so you held onto his waist and pulled out before thrusting into him hard and entering your full cock inside of his ass

Iinuma screamed at your sudden entrance a mix of pain and pleasure evident in his voice

"Fuck I can't handle this anymore Iinuma I'll fuck you till you can't think" you whisper

Not giving Iinuma time to reply to you, you started fucking him roughly, going in and out of his ass in a brutal pace, a loud clapping noise echoing in the room

"AAHHH p-lease be gentle this is my fiRST!" Iinuma screamed, he gripped the sheets with his hands to keep himself grounded.

You were paying close attention to Iinuma's reaction, how his eyebrows furrowed, how his eyes were slowly going out of focus, how his hands were gripping the sheets in a feeble attempt to hold on to his sanity

Iinuma's back arched, his eyes rolled back to his skull and he was barely speaking any coherent words anymore all you could hear was obscene moans of pleasure. Iinuma didn't even get time to process that he'd already cum all over himself. He fell limp after his mind blowing orgasm but unfortunately for him, you weren't done yet.

Looking at Iinuma covered in cum and still very much rock hard you couldn't help but go harder on the man, he looked so damn hot you wanted to ruin him even more. Licking your lips you slowly went down and captured one of his nipples in your mouth while your hand went to play with the other, you gripped his waist tighter and began thrusting harder positioning yourself so that you'd pound his prostate with every single thrust.

Iinuma screamed, he was too sensitive! Please have mercy on him! He won't be able to go to work tomorrow if you keep this up!

"TOO MUC- PLEA- STOO" Iinuma was drowning in pleasure he was gripping the sheets beneath him so hard his knuckles were turning white, he was choking on his words, he looked even more debauched than he did before, one of his hands came up and tried to weakly push you away and begging you to slow down though you didn't understand him because of how slurred his speaking was

You felt yourself drawing closer, Iinuma isn't speaking anymore he's just moaning and sobbing while you thrust in him

"I'm close baby let's come together yeah?" you tell him, you doubt he could hear you though, nonetheless you tilted his chin upwards and kissed him, your thrusting became sloppier and you brought your hand to his dick stroking it along with your thrusts.

Iinuma cried, the pleasure was too much for him to handle. He'd come undone for the nth time now, he wasn't sure if he was glad that it was finally going to be over soon or if he wanted this overwhelming pleasure to continue. He couldn't think straight anymore all he knows is that his dick hurts and he has to make sure you come or else you'll keep on playing with his body until you're satisfied and he's not sure if he could hold out until then.

You felt Iinuma tighten around you squeezing your dick, the pleasure of his insides finally overwhelemed you and eventually you came along with Iinuma whose screams are muffled by your mouth on his.

Once again Iinuma fell limp on the bed, panting heavily as you gently move him so you could change the sheets. You cleaned up Iinuma being careful not to overstimulate him. Iinuma whined and squirmed a lot while you were cleaning him up.

After cleaning Iinuma you got up to clean yourself, but was held back by Iinuma's hand holding onto your wrist, he was looking at you with adorable doe eyes, even though his eyes usually looked dull

You sighed and decided that you'd wash up later, you get in bed with Iinuma, pulling him to you so you could embrace him, you kept on telling him how well he did and kissed his forehead. As much as Iinuma wanted to enjoy your love and attention his eyelids were much stronger of a force than he'd anticipated and soon he'd succumbed to their strength.

Looking down at the man sleeping peacefully beside you, the fatigue started to catch up to you. You quickly pulled a pillow to replace you while you clean yourself up.

Returning to the room you see Iinuma hugging onto the pillow tightly, you push aside the pillow and reclaimed your spot beside Iinuma, you sigh in satisfaction as you kiss Iinuma's forehead and hug him closer to you before drifting off to sleep.

Iinuma was glad everything went well and drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

[micahdotgov]

i have typed out so many different captions for this post and in all of them i sounded insane so i don't care about this actually. this means nothing to me. i have no thoughts on the matter.

[scratchandplaster]

Tales of Arcadia - Hitch in the road

CW: stalking, referenced past abuse, reluctant caretaker, suggestive language, Avery being the worst and best caretaker at the same time

Previous | [Masterlist]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The stench of boiling garbage and exhaust fumes drenched the streets of Atlanta even in the early morning hours. Why his Lukas chose to prefer it over the quiet life at home was a mystery to Shepard; still, he limited himself to keeping 427 Parkway Drive in his line of sight. Whoever came and went was no longer a secret.

After two agonizing hours in the truck, the key to his problems rounded the street corner and hurried fretfully down the row of houses. In a heartbeat, Shepard slid out of the driver's side to join the walking heap of Walmart bags and jangling keys on her way, always keeping a fixed distance. Then, as they finally turned sharp onto the doorstep she had left approximately fifty-five minutes ago, Shepard decided to strike. 

"Oh," he wondered, not approaching further, "may I help you?"

The old-established resident of 427 faltered, turned around and eyed the stranger thoroughly from his jeans up to his plaid shirt, a stare he never missed since leaving the city behind. The mistrusting eyes tripped over the gold-plated cross glistening around his neck. It worked its magic, like it always did.

"Thanks," she grumbled and pushed the bag full of groceries into his arms, fumbling around with the lock to the stairwell until it slid into position. Shepard hadn't even bothered to inspect the nameplates to the left further, his son was no idiot. 

Without any protest, he took his first step inside the lion's den.

A flat viewing, he decided, sounded like the most believable ruse. While waiting for the landlord to show him around, a rendezvous that would never take place, they exchanged the usual pleasantries. With every returned niceness, his access key seemed to acclimate herself to him. If he was as lucky as it appeared at the moment, his new acquaintance had been living around these parts for quite an eternity - for every year he counted a hair on her chin.

"Bringing any children with ya?" she bothered to know, pleasantly curt, just like Shepard had read her as.

"No, just myself. I don't want to cause you that much trouble, ma'am. Well," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "do I have to worry about this kind of noise around here?"

"The last family with brats moved out months ago. I wish the problem left with 'em." 

He let his head turn to the side. Care to share more? Hopefully so, even as he stood inside Lukas' retreat, Shepard had not the time nor nerve to check every door in the building. The clock had been ticking for too long by now. 

Stay put. Please.

"Look at me talking the hind leg off a donkey," she huffed and snapped him out of his qualms, "I don't wanna drive you away before you even thought about moving in, but, y'know..."

"Undergraduates?" he suggested with a worried groan.

"Two floors above me." The innocent nod upstairs got him everything he needed her for. "But I still hear 'em trample around in the middle of the night."

Certainly not his Luke, Shepard knew, he always stuck to his early sleep schedule.

"Is that so? I'm afraid I need to address this problem right off the bat. If I'm going to meet with Mr. Wilson anyway, I'll gladly speak out for stricter house rules. With your permission, that goes without saying."

Dropping the bags at the apartment door, a clear signal of how far he was willing to let this farce escalate, earned him a nod and pat on the chest. That was all she had to offer him.

"Feel free to give him a piece of ya mind," Luke's soon-to-be ex-neighbor chuckled, "but don't cha go on spoiling things with him, I'd like to see you around these parts more often."

Shepard did not, though, hoping that today's outing stayed a one-time trip.

--------

Left alone between damp walls and barking from behind closed doors, stair by stair, the abandoned father crept up towards his mark. No need to hurry anymore, now caution was required as steps along the creaky wood brought him closer to his son. After two years, no words were able to express the bundle of feelings, joy and fear and desperation, coursing through Shepard that welled up with every passing door on his way. What had Lukas kept ready for him? Nothing that he was helpless against, that much he knew.

Davis/Markoff; the letters crumbling off the doorbell told him, exactly two levels above the old woman, and marked the end of his restless mission. As anticipated, a Cohen was sadly missing. Smart as he was, his Lukas knew to vanish properly; oh, Claire would've been bursting with pride. 

Shepard had found their son at last.

A knock, he decided, felt more mundane as an initial hello - like a friendly neighbor announcing themselves. Through the thin veneer, rumbling steeped into the hallway. Somebody was home. 

Gently and from a dead angle, the sound of knuckles on wood alerted the tenant to action. Someone shifted over the tile and dishes rattled bewilderedly. 

He doesn't dare to take the window, right?

Despite the hectic bustle, clear footsteps towards the door let the floorboards whine in anticipation. Four, five, six stomps now and the door knob suddenly spun around to make his heart skip a beat. Before the door was fully pried open, Shepard had already shoved the tip of his boot in between the sides.

Full of expectation, he looked up to his opposite.

All the time apart must have surely changed his son, but unless he grew a handful of inches and ate anabolic steroids for breakfast, the person staring back in nothing but disinterest was a stranger. Not that Reuben's tongue hadn't slipped about the one or other roommate, yet Shepard felt the judging eyes gnaw on his every move.

Obviously. Obviously, fate refused to be easy on him. Once again, no hurdles Lukas placed along the way could stop his father. A friendly smile on the lips, Shepard proceeded to take the offense: "Good morning! Mister Davis, I assume? I apologize for interrupting your lunch, you see, I'm interested in-"

"Shut it." The roommate leaned against the door casing, one arm casually propped up: "You're not interested, you're Steven or whatever. Luke's father."

Oh. 

Well, if anything, it flattered him to hear that the boy already introduced his old man, even when the same was not true for his blown cover. Meanwhile, the mountain of flesh with a physique like Michelangelo himself had carved it out of marble, raked along its mouth's inside with a fingernail, swallowing. 

Eating all by yourself? Alright then, as you please.

"Well, I think you know why I'm careful not to peddle myself door to door. I've been told that I'm not very welcome around here."

Even his embarrassed chuckle didn't soothe the twitches in the impatient face, giving away how spot on Shepard's statement was. The silence broke thanks to his outstretched hand disguised as a proper greeting: "Let's start over: my name's Shepard."

"Of course it is," his hand was inspected thoroughly, not taken, though the stranger gifted him a bitter grin instead, "How's Ben doing?" 

Through the thin slit in the doorway that hadn't been filled out, a kitchen area with a small table came into view. Only one bowl, sticky from instant mac and cheese, rested on it. Shepard pushed the striking evidence aside for now.

"Son, I'm very-"

"Nobody's son," rows of pearly teeth threatened him, "Try again."

Doubt drilled into his facade as the new hurdle continued to stand tall, visibly trying to keep this conversation a short one, unreadable and blunt in the most insulting way. Shepard recalled, finally, somebody his youngest had so joyfully spoken of: Aaron, Anthony, Ainsley...

"Ben is doing great," Shepard assured softly to calm the waves, "You have to be Avery, then, he shared many stories about your time together."

A cocktail of surprise and confusion flit over angled features: "Only the worst ones, I hope." 

The father of two shuddered at the thought of what kind of pastimes his sons underwent here, considering their only aid. Avery struck him as more of a type for long nights and many broken hearts than quiet game nights. The perfect deflection, this he had to give Lukas credit for.

"Well, since I already took the trip, I wanted to personally thank you for giving my boys shelter. I'm glad they had someone like you to watch over them."

"That's all?" Avery wondered, sick of the thick tension that made the air crackle around them.

"Oh, well, is he home? I'll try not to disturb you guys for long, promise!"

"Who's home?"

"Lukas."

"Lukas? Sounds familiar…"

"Oh, so you're a funny one."  

Irritating, to be specific, so very irritating. Shepard dared to play along, still, patience had always been his most reliable virtue.

"Doesn't hurt if you hear it," Avery suddenly claimed and shrugged, "I mean, he begged me to never talk to you, man, but I guess we're past that point. That's what he gets for ditching me without paying rent this month."

"He left?"

"Two days ago." 

Any request remained stuck in Shepard's throat. Did he ever get to enjoy the end of this fruitless paper chase? The roommate, unbothered as usual, shifted inside the entrance: "Always said you were coming to get him. Told him he was crazy, to stay here and wait for Ben to come back. Thank God he didn't listen to me, huh?"

"Avery, be so kind and tell me where he went off to," he insisted in a mellow, but low tone.

"No idea." A bad liar, the worst by far. Lukas was close, Shepard could feel it.

"As I feared," he sighed, letting his voice crack on the last syllable, "he's a very anxious boy."

"Man. I know that much."

"Bordering on paranoia-"

"Seems like Luke," his roommate nodded along.

"Then why won't you help me help him?" slipped from his mouth, more candid than Shepard liked to admit, "You are my last hope."

"Eh," Avery whined, "I just don't feel like it, my bad. Why don't you come by on Monday again? I'm usually a lot more motivated after the weekend."

This one just refused to bite, not even out of courtesy. 

Subconsciously, Shepard's finger had begun to drum against his jeans, the rough fabric struggling to keep his nerves in line: "Please try to understand how time-sensitive this issue is! Without support, Lukas' well-being is at risk."

"He can handle it," sharp lips curled up as Avery held back a laugh. 

Laughing in my face. Despite a strained huff, he stayed persistent. Shepard did not expect friendliness, nor had any left to give. This was simply not the place for pleasantries. 

"If that's the case, I'm scared to tell you that you are truly not familiar with my son."

"Oh, I am familiar with both of your sons. Intimately."

Taken aback, the oh-so desperate father caught himself slipping out of his homegrown act. Nothing, not a single common factor let him latch on to this eel incarnate.

"Let's speed this up, okay?" Avery sighed, spurred by a mysterious drive, and let both hands clap together with an obnoxious bang, "It's horrible to be abandoned. Just shoved away by everyone you ever trusted, this and that, very sad and all - I understand that."

The pointed stare stuck to the golden cross Shepard hadn't bothered tucking away didn't slip past him. There was no reverence in it. Luke's roommate finally chose to step closer, hair smelling of basil and nutmeg.

"I promised to stay out of your little family drama, but you look friendly enough. So, if I really think good, long and hard about it," slender yet callous fingers wandered along Shepard's collar, "I can call you daddy if you'd like me to."

As if lightning struck, any and all remnants of self-control ripped from Shepard in a wave of visceral disgust. His own hands finally shot up and pushed away the source of the dirty laugh that rang through the building. 

His Lukas rather lived with this than his father. Seriously?

Avery's quick wink conveyed that he starred in an unfamiliar game, and his opponent just loved to play dirty. A line got overstepped, and so Shepard assessed how far he should go. Sure, it had been a few years, or decades, but he had enough brawn to put anyone in their place, hadn't he? 

A vain scoff answered his question on the spot.

"You couldn't, minister." Avery stayed glued to the door frame like burning tar to skin. The time for sob stories was over. "But please do try, I'll send you back to Ben with a gift or two."

"I don't appreciate the threats, Avery."

"And I don't appreciate you, getting on my dick for what now? Five minutes?" the sack of flesh hummed, "He's gone and I don't blame him one bit. Only your god knows what kind of Cohen Family bullshit you're pushing on your property, though I heard the odd story here and there. Maybe it's just that; a story."

Running your mouth doesn't suit you, Lukas. For goodness’ sake, what happened to you?

"But when in doubt, I'll believe my friend, not some stranger knocking on my door. What exactly did you envision me to do the second you showed up here? I'm curious because, honestly, I live for this kind of audacity-"

"Listen," Shepard demanded.

"Hell no," he was promptly interrupted again as Avery's amusement turned sour, "you listen: I don't know you! And I don't want to change that. Your self-important act might mean shit up in the woods, but here, nobody cares for it-"

Louder and louder, the endless tirade pierced through every pore of the concrete walls; Shepard couldn't even get a desperate word in edgewise. Why Avery had bothered to keep this Oscar-worthy scene up for so long was a question for another day. 

"Who doesn't like to listen to the chimeras of a slimy, controlling, fake-ass son of a-" the booming voice threatened with a hiss. 

Above them, the dog started barking anew. Not long, and curious neighbors would step closer to their peepholes and get their share of entertainment. Shepard had preparing for a lot, but this…

Risking public humiliation for an already empty room was about to be his last mistake. Alarmed citizens letting him and Lukas walk out of here peacefully was off the table. 

Shepard had realized too late that he stepped onto scorched earth.

"- and don't get me started about the minors. I mean, wow, you're practically begging for it. The good people deserve a bit of transparency, don't you think?"

Without losing another word, Shepard promptly turned around to leave. On hostile terrain, there was nothing to win. Behind him, Avery let the most filthy slander echo through the building, escalating into screams, but not stopping, not until that man was out of the building and gone for good.

Rushing down the stairs he fought to step onto, he gripped the railing so tightly it made the thin varnish crumble, and only as the front slammed shut behind him did Shepard snuff out the howl against his nape:

"If years in the Kingdom Hall couldn't win me over, your sorry ass will die trying!"

--------

Blood rushed like a waterfall inside Avery's ears. If one visit wasn't enough to get a man like that off their heels, preparing for another round felt justified. How annoying.

This little bickering would definitely gift them a complaint from the property manager. Avery slammed the door shut, not missing to snap all the locks into place, and embraced the gust of cool air that came with it.

Turning around the corner into the hallway that separated their respective bedrooms, the source of all this chaos hadn't moved an inch. Quiet as a mouse, Lukas leaned against the pantry, his by now cold bowl of pasta in hand.

The picture of misery took shaky breaths through pursed lips like it was him who just ruined his voice for the next few hours. Avery always imagined a clash with Papa Cohen to turn out way bloodier. Honestly, what kind of "cult leader", a term Lukas still rejected, was scared off with a bit of noise? 

"Can't believe flirting really worked, men like him usually die to get a shot with this. But next time you better warn me that he's such a silver fox," Avery sighed excessively, "my defenses were crumbling by the second."

"Gross," Lukas whispered towards the floorboards, "Thank you."

"What are we going to do about it? That's just some guy, Luke, he can't do shit to you."

Not for a single second had Lukas sweated over his own welfare. But when it came to Avery or Ben...he couldn't risk being responsible for another tragedy involving the people around him.

"I need time to think."

"Call. The. Police.", Avery came closer with every word, "and I'm usually the last person to suggest that."

No. No way.

Shepard never gave up this easily, that they got him out of the house meant nothing when he continued to lurk in the dark. Avery's expectant look only coaxed a huff out of him. Luke rubbed his sweaty hands dry on his jeans, the rough fabric anchoring him to reality.

"Thank you, Avery, I'm glad you're here. I really am."

"Yeah, don't mention it," his roommate dismissed and trotted into the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, "You better think quick."

The appetite left them for a while, time for Lukas to spiral into plans and worries about how his brother could find his way back to them, only if he was strong enough to try.

Whereas Avery, entrenched inside homelike walls, wondered how it felt to be missed.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

[wikitpowers]

i'm learming polish!!

HUH?!?? WHY?!? BRO MAD RESPECT BC THAT SHIT AIN’T EASY! AND ESPECIALLY IF YOU HAVE NEVER TRIED LEARNING IT BEFORE! YOU’RE IN FOR A WILD RIDE :’) GOOD LUCK, SOLDIER🫡

[desigrrrl]

Telugu lyrics - Em Sandeham Ledu #1

here’s my attempt at breaking down lyrics of amazing songs in a way that portrays the structure as well as the vocabulary. this one is just the opening, and the video is of just these lines as well (so you can hear the words). I’ll make more till I make complete ones of each song! any feedback is appreciated <3

Line 1:

ఏం సందెహం లేదు

em sandeham ledu

literal: what doubt not have

trans: there is no doubt

ఆ అందాల నప్పే

aa andala navve

literal: that beautiful smile/laugh only

trans: your beautiful smile

ఈ సందళ్ళ తెచ్చింది

ee sandallu techhindi

literal: these celebrations brought are

trans: brought this excitement

Line 2:

ఏం సందెహం లేదు

em sandeham ledu

literal: what doubt not have

trans: there is no doubt

ఆ కండేటి సిగ్గే

aa kandeti sigge

literal: that fleshy/reddish/proud shyness only

trans: your shyness

ఈ తొందర్లు ఇచ్చింది

ee tondarlu icchindi

literal: this fastness/distress gave

trans: is driving me towards you

Line 3:

ఏం సందెహం లేదు

em sandeham ledu

literal: what doubt not have

trans: there is no doubt

ఆ గంధాల గొంతే

aa gandhala gonte

literal: that healing(plant) throat only

trans: your sweet voice

ఆనందాలు పెంచింది

aanandalu penchindi

literal: happiness growed

trans: fills my heart with happiness

lyrics translated by lyrics raag and placed by me.

[lilac-set]

Im autistic and abinary and i think drag looks fun and interesting but its really hard for me to break down exactly what theyre doing regarding body language as caricatures of traditional gender roles, can someone help? Im assuming some drag artists have already made guides about this, if anyone knows where to find them would you send them to me?

[rxttenfish]

i love it when miranda gets to be stupidly dramatic over nothing. currently in the fic she's wildly upset that aaravi didn't compliment how nice the letter she wrote breaking bad news to aaravi was. she put extra effort making it sound all nice and everything!

[hargrove-mayfields]

Starlight in your eyes of blue

Warnings: unregulated obsessive compulsive disorder, derealization, panic attacks, accidental self-injury, intrusive thoughts, depression, mentions of character death (not real), ableism, and past child abuse.

————

One. Two. Steve’s squishy. Three.

Tap. Tap. Two fingers. Tap.

Billy’s stuck in a pattern, a compulsion. If he stops Steve won’t get home safe. He’ll lose sight of his phone, and Steve will try to call him and get worried when he doesn’t answer, so he’ll speed home and run off the road and-

One. Two. Steve’s squishy. Three.

Cell phone. Keys. Three and a half. Glasses case.

Billy’s arm is tired and he’s pretty sure he’s dehydrated from the way his head is pounding, but there’s only a few minutes until Steve gets home and then he’ll stop.

Stop. Stop sign. Yellow light. Green, go, too fast, gone. It’s time for Steve to be home but he’s still not home and Billy’s scared. He must’ve done something wrong. Forget the tapping. Are the candles lit? The doormat tilted just a little to the left? Did he remember to button Steve’s shirt from bottom top instead of top to bottom?

The worry overwhelms him like he’s never felt it before. Really he feels it every time Steve goes away, even if just for a few minutes. His heart couldn’t withstand anything happening to his best friend and lover. Real grief sets in his chest and it hasn’t even happened yet.

He bites his nails.

Until they’re raw.

Until his hands are bleeding, or were they already from the blisters on his fingertips?

Is he breathing?

God his chest hurts.

Billy’s brain doesn’t turn itself back on until he feels Steve’s arms around him, and hears his voice in his ear.

“.....I’m here.. Can you hear me?.. Baby please…”

Billy doesn’t respond yet, he only leans back into the safe embrace. Still, he doesn’t quite feel relief yet. If anything, his heart only grows heavier. A few shaky breaths brace him to speak.

“Stevie. I didn’t mean to kill you. I love you. I'm so sorry..” His voice cracks like he’s using all the force he has, because he needs Steve to know how he feels.

Because to him, this doesn’t feel real. Not the connection to Steve’s embrace, nor the floor underneath him. (When did he sit down? Did he fall? He can’t remember…)

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze like it’s projecting on a speaker, distant and warbled, “Billy, listen. You’re having a panic attack.”

It doesn’t help to comfort Billy this deep into his panic, “No. I- I- You gotta listen to me. Baby, I.. killed you. And I’m sorry. I wanted to protect you, I swear.”

“It’s okay. How about this, can you do something else for me?” Steve sounds worried. And sad.

Billy nods as a way to silently agree to do whatever Steve needs him to. His mind reasons, in this state, that if they can’t be together physically anymore, he’ll make sure Steve isn’t mad at him when he disappears.

His head hurts.

“Tell me five things you see right now.” Steve requests of him.

It takes a lot of concentration for Billy to be able to see anything at all. His eyes dart around looking for the right things, indecisive and overwhelmed by how much is in this room. It feels cluttered. Unsafe. Unfamiliar.

He brings his thoughts back to his Steve.

“The carpet. It’s brown. A-And the curtains. They’re letting too much sun in. The beams. Th-The house could catch on fire-” Billy’s breath catches in his throat just as Steve hugs him tighter, a quiet way of asking him to keep going that Billy is going to do his best to follow.

“Um, I think I see the cracks in the wall. The ones that look like spiderwebs. And the couch. I’m sorry I didn’t fold the blanket. I can do it now. Wait, sorry. Um.. I see our picture. The date one. It reminds me of when you’re here. I miss you a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey. I’m here. I’m with you Billy.” Steve promises before Billy can get too upset, and once again tries to encourage him, “Can you keep going? Four things you hear?”

Billy’s throat feels dry from talking, but he refuses to give up.

“Right. Birds singing on the tree. In the tree. In the backyard. In the grass. I can probably hear the wind too. Maybe I left a window open somewhere, that’s not safe, is it? But I gotta- I have to finish this for Steve.” Billy takes a deep, if not shaky, breath, a few of them actually, before finishing quickly, a slow progression into security, “Phone buzzing and the clock ticking. Ticking.”

Until the clock triggers something worse. Billy has to count one through twelve for each hour at each tick of the clock until the next good number, which is the eight right now. The minute hand is their savior in ending this cycle several minutes later, since the hour is only five in the evening.

Despite the obvious setback, his Steve doesn’t give up on him. He just gently prompts more progress to make up for it. “Good. How about three things you feel?”

A good bit of time passes while Billy’s brain tries to distract him by listening to the clock ticks again, only he fights it. He powers through and tunes into his sense of touch instead, “Flannel. My shirt is made of soft flannel. It has snap buttons too. So they’re metal and cold. I feel cold. But also warm. I think I feel you. Your arms around me.”

“Exactly. That’s my love, okay? That’s my love with you.” Steve doesn’t sound scared anymore, so Billy must be doing a good job. He feels prepared already for Steve’s next question, and even predicts it in his own head first, “What else, do you smell two things?”

“Not burning. Nothings on fire, I promise. Just the candles. The white and black ones. To protect you. They smell like cologne. And I think the grass. Because the window is open.” Billy knows he’s explaining too much, but it makes him feel better. Now that he feels more safe, talking to Steve just feels nice in general.

One final thing to concentrate on to bring him back to himself from those spiraling depths of his disorder, “And just one thing you taste.”

That’s harder, because it’s been a while since he’s eaten anything. Shit today was really bad, all he’s had since the bagel he ate when he woke up was a stick of gum. He didn’t realize how bad this had gotten before it pushed over the boiling point.

“Mint. Just mint.”

With the concern for Billy’s safety addressed, and only after making sure he’s okay enough, Steve leaves him to get other things to take care of him. While he’s gone, so things don’t go bad again, Billy lays on his back and just breathes. In the nose, out through his mouth, sighing like it will let go of all the aching with his breath.

Maybe he dozed off, or just didn't think about anything at all for a moment, but it startled him when Steve came back, carrying a light blanket and a big reusable water bottle. That final, somewhat harsh pull back to reality sent him spinning through gravity, blinking the blur away as he processes Steve next to him, lifting his head to help him drink.

“Steve?” Billy rasps, hearing in his own voice that he’d been crying, though he hadn’t realized.

Steve responds gently, while laying Billy’s head back down on a balled up jacket that he also hadn’t noticed being placed there, and putting a wet rag on his forehead, “My love.”

“Did I mess up again?” Billy’s almost afraid to ask. His entire life Billy was called crazy. Punished for not being able to prevent these things from happening sometimes. At least they happen less now that he’s happy. Happy with Steve, who won’t get mad.

But the guilt he feels doesn’t discriminate between past and present, or depression, or anything else.

Steve has a big heart. He’s always got lots of love to give Billy, and reassurance. Maybe that’s part of the guilt, is that Steve helps him when he’s got his own worries and sensory issues to take care of.

He accepts Steve’s explanation regardless, the words, “No. You did your best. You just got upset. And actually, I think I have an idea how we can help it next time,” bringing him immense comfort.

~~~

He shouldn’t take the credit, it was Chrissy’s idea actually.

She has a guide dog that helps with her depleting vision, and more so with her PTSD. Something about the weight of her fuzzy friend laying on her chest, even as small as Chrissy seems compared to her big oaf of a poodle named Cuppy Cake, brings her back every time.

She suggested that Billy try getting a companion while she, Cuppy Cake, and Steve had gone running errands together just a few days before Billy’s big attack.

Now more than ever it’s clear something needs to be changed though, and they all figure a service dog might help.

If that doesn’t work out, adopting a furry friend might help cheer him up anyways.

The few days since the incident have been gloomy, with Billy’s hands in bandages and his eyes brimmed with tears everytime he looks at them. He barely smiles, or moves from his safe spot on the corner of the couch. It breaks Steve’s heart.

He throws out the idea on a random Saturday when Billy is zoned out over his cereal bowl, counting the pieces into clumps and only eating even numbers of them. A subtle obsession that Steve keeps a close eye on before it gets too dangerous again.

That’s why he interrupts, because Billy’s been trying to eat this bowl for hours, and it’s getting too soggy, and soggy cereal makes Billy’s palette feel gross, and that’s just going to cause a sensory overload.

“I wanna get a dog.”

Billy doesn’t look like he takes it seriously, even making a joke, “Miss Churro not good enough for you anymore?”

Steve’s ima’s elderly chihuahua. Yeah, he loves visiting her at his old house, but that stinky old pup isn’t exactly what Steve had in mind.

He clarifies, “I don’t think Churro would be a good service dog though.”

“Oh.” The answer is so simple, Steve almost thinks Billy didn’t hear what he said. But then Billy’s lip wobbles and there’s more tears in his eyes.

He curls up his hinds and rubs the tears away, over and over until his face is bright red, and Steve decides to step in and hold his hands in his own so he can keep them down on the table top instead, “What’s wrong, blue?”

A sob sneaks out of Billy’s throat. He’s probably overwhelmed and can’t speak, maybe even upset. Change isn’t good for Billy’s routines.

Instantly, Steve tries to fix it, feeling a hint of regret for bringing it up, “We don’t have to get one. It was just an idea, baby. I promise I won’t make you.”

But then Billy shakes his head, and Steve is confused. He doesn’t know what that means.

“No you don’t want a dog?” Steve gently squeezes Billy’s left hand to assign it that meaning that he spoke, to let Billy use his hands to communicate instead of his words. The right hand option means, “Or you do and you don’t want me to change my mind?”

Still crying, but a little softer, the tears are contextualized as happy ones, because Billy squeezes Steve’s right hand back. He likes the idea.

~~~~

His name is Scorp. The 60 pound pit bull is about knee tall on Billy, and can tackle him down in seconds.

Well, it’s more like affectionately pulling on his clothes until he sits down, and then Scorp pushes him over for deep pressure therapy. But still. He’s a big boy.

He’s Billy’s big boy.

His service dog.

The reason he can finally leave the house for the first time in, well, twenty-two years without feeling like something bad will happen. And if he still has those intrusive thoughts, he knows he has his buddy to help in ways Steve can’t always provide.

He loves Steve, and he loves Scorp. Like a little family of their own.

And he is happy.

————

also on ao3