#many chances you get and blah blah there's not even any comfort in it just

[gayspock]

what if I wss emo instead 🤔

[enbesbians]

Do you have any oral/fingering tips me my and my gf wanna get nasty but we’re both virgins🫣

well my biggest word of advice is communication.

always try to have a conversation with them about things like that especially since you’re both virgins with little to no experience. sitting down and going through the things that you’re willing to try and things you aren’t so fond of can give you and them a clear view on what should be expected when the time comes. don’t try to overthink about it because realistically, you’re going to pleasure your girlfriend… they’ll guide you in what way their moans. pay attention to how their body moves and their words— if there’s a movement you make and they like it, keep doing that.

don’t feel ashamed if they tell you to move your head head a certain way or position you in a place that grants them more pleasure— it’s all a learning experience and knowing how to pleasure your partner is important. same thing for you, don’t feel fearful of telling them, “hey can you do this while blah blah.” because that gives them more of idea of what you’d like. ive heard some people complain talking before and during sex isn’t ‘sexy’ but it is! once you act on what may or may not be attractive per your girlfriend’s list is the fun part of discovering their body.

(any chance you get, start with foreplay. get each other stimulated and excited what’s to come next. make them feel comfortable and sexy.)

when starting off with oral, make sure to let your tongue explore, ask questions when doing things and watch her and how she reacts when your tongue bumps a certain part. if she arches her back and pushes her hips closer to your face, most likely the spot you’re at is a good spot.

pay attention to the clit! don’t be shy, mess with it. when women get head for some reason even though that’s literally a bundle of nerves, it’s not messed with… latch onto their clit and suck it, let the flat of your tongue roll against their folds.

and fingering is a whole different thing. again, foreplay is the best way to start!!! always have lubricant and start of with one finger. not everyone necessarily enjoys penetration and i can’t guarantee— if you’ve never done it yourself— that it will feel as gratifying as it may sound in fan fics but try to perform it on each other or maybe lay side by side, legs spread and just finger yourselves slowly, try to explore your walls and find places you think feel the best. try it on your partner and if in any way you feel like that it’s not for you, you don’t have to do it. there’s so many things you can do with each other that can give an amazing and loving sexual experience.

there’s not much limitation, it’s only boils down to communication, commitment and collaborative work. feed off your girlfriend’s pleasure and let her feed off yours.

[maddipoof]

There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort 🌷: maybe a study session turned cuddle with tasm peter parker?

I don't know if you were expecting science but I just cannot. So r has a test on Othello and yeah, it's cute, I like it. thank you for requesting <3 I had fun writing it

WC: 910 (yay my first blurb under 1000 words, improvement)

The very second you sat back down at your desk, half convinced you’re focused enough from another session of pacing around your room, the buzzer went off. You’d almost be annoyed but you didn’t have the time with the half second it took you to realize it had to be Peter. Any other day you’d run over to the door, but today the exhaustion was getting to you. Settling for a rushed walk instead, you leaned down to speak into the little microphone. “Come on up, bugboy.”

“Actually,” you nearly screamed at the voice from outside your half open window. You had your hand over your heart and your back leaning on the wall while Peter watched, hanging upside down with that stupidly adorable smile. “Spiders are arachnids, not bugs.” He lowered himself to the floor and pulled the web down from your fire escape and you practically ran to open the window the rest of the way. You didn’t give him the chance to duck under the window on his own with the way you pulled him down with a hand to the back of his neck. He had to hold himself up with one hand on the sill and the other on the wrist of your hand in his hair. The kiss itself was much gentler than the way you wrapped him into it, but he was alright with that, though with how much he missed you he wouldn’t have minded more. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I know, it’s been too long.”

“Mhm, 12 whole hours, basically eternity.”

“If I remember correctly, it’s been 13.”

“Probably right,” he nudged you back a bit so he could climb in and shut the window without turning from you. “And how many of those did you sleep?”

“Hm,” you clicked your tongue while thinking of the best answer that wouldn’t get you sent to bed immediately, but decided the truth was enough. “Um, 5?” Wrong answer, you could see it on his face. “And a half, 5 and a half.”

“And what were you doing all the other 7.5?”

“I don’t know what it is about this essay but I can’t get it right.” You dropped your face into his shoulder and he tried scratching at the back of your neck in an attempt to comfort you.

“For your lit class? When’s it due?”

“That’s the thing,” you rested your chin on his chest and looked up at him with pleading eyes, not really knowing what you were asking for. “I’m just writing it as a practice for my exam, it’s in two days and if I can’t answer the essay question, what’s the point?”

“She gave you the essay question?”

“Yeah. Well, it’s just to analyze a scene and talk about what it means and blah blah blah whatever,” you talked while he pulled you into your room. “But I can’t focus and it’s like my eyeballs want me to fail.”

You stood behind him while he looked over your desk of loose index cards, open binders and notebooks with margins overrun with scribbles, and of course the half written essay on your laptop.

“You wanna sit down and I’ll quiz you on it? So you don’t have to strain your eyes anymore?” He started picking up the notecards before you even answered, just to organize for you if nothing else. You listened and sat on your bed with your back against the wall. 

“Yeah, that’s ok.”

“Good, ok, yeah. These ones?” He held up the colorful neon flash cards. 

“Mhm, Othello.”

Peter hasn’t even thought of Shakespeare since Macbeth senior year. Too wrapped up in more scientific studies and uh, spiderman-ing. But he’d do it for you. 

Three-quarters of the way through the set he could see your breath evening out and your eyes fluttering. 

“Here, lay down,” he guided you forward by the shoulder. 

“Hm?” 

“I’ll read to you.” He slid in behind you on the bed and pulled the blankets over both of you. 

“You don’t have your glasses.”

“I’ll manage,” he reached over to grab the book off the table then relaxed back down to pull you to his chest. 

“You’ll strain your eyes.” As if he didn’t arrive by swinging from building to building, that’s the danger you were worried about. 

“I’ll manage.” 

Your head was on his chest and he read over your shoulder. 

“Start here,” you pointed to the section your essay was focused on, half way through a passage. 

“She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, in faith, ‘twas strange, 'twas passing strange, 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story. And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I loved her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have used: Here comes the lady; let her witness it.”

He looked down at you to find you sleeping, happy that you finally found a moment’s rest. He kissed your forehead, wherever he could reach. “I love you.” He wasn’t even sure you could hear, but he needed you to know anyway. 

“I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

[twigg96]

Sooo while I was writing pregnancy HCs I got a thought… how would Dethklok handle being pregnant themselves 👀 yes I do mean like

Mpreg

So these HCs will be weird, angsty, and cracky. So I don’t expect them to be masterpieces but I really hope you all like them! (Sorry they're long XD)

Nathan doesn’t even think twice when he starts throwing up every morning. He just assumes he needs a new liver. He doesn’t wonder when he starts losing and gaining weight after a few months. His dumb ass body does shit like that sometimes. Maybe it was too many chips…. But when he feels something inside him move… that concerned him. He’d read a few articles about parasites. The little bastards were brutal in their own right but not inside of him! But when the doctors looked at him and told him it was a type of parasite that he’d come to enjoy eventually… and that he had no ever-loving clue how he could get pregnant but congratulations. To say Nathan was stunned was an understatement. He couldn’t get pregnant! He was the best frontman in the whole world! And a dude! How do dudes even get… oh yeah never mind he remembers now. His first stop was to Charles' office to drop off the doctor's report. The doc had mentioned some restrictions and nutrition changes he needed to follow and to have Charles read over the paperwork. Hours later after being drilled once again on the importance of his health… blah blah blah god Nathan truly could care less he was so bored he could eat a shoe. That is until Charles made it clear all albums and tours would be postponed until after the birth. He finally was allowed to leave under the guise that he at least eat something healthy. Which he blatantly disregarded, grabbing the party-size bag of chips from the pantry as he passed the kitchen. Flopping down on his bed he huffed, pulling out his dethphone to call the one person he knew might understand, and wouldn't make fun of him. "Mom..." He told her everything. About the pregnancy and how fucking not brutal it was to be scared but here he was terrified. His mom listened silently for most of the call taking the time to talk calmly to him whenever she had the chance. Reminding him that it was scary and that was ok. She tried to hide it but Nathan could hear the excitement in her voice when he told her it was a boy. She asked quietly if it was ok to come to visit during the next check-up and Nathan agreed. Despite how not brutal having his parents over was, he felt comforted knowing he had them there. His announcement to the band was nothing too grand. He simply just said it during a movie night. It seemed easier to say once he believed it himself. Toki was beyond ecstatic. Begging to be "Uncle Toki" he kept touching Nathan's stomach without permission much to the larger man's dismay. Pickles didn't seem to mind much either way. Just happy it wasn't him Nathan supposed. Murderface and Skwisgaar were another story entirely however. Murderface looked utterly repulsed by Nathan as if he'd "catch the pregnancy." Skwisgaar avoided him like the plague until weeks later when he showed up with a disgruntled-looking Charles and court papers stating there was no physical way it was his and even if so, he couldn't be held to any standards such as child support. Nathan's pregnancy was fairly easy (as far as male pregnancy went he supposed). There were no complications. He loved the feeling of his little one kicking him when he fed him good food. He wanted to be the best dad any kid could have, even if he had to do it alone. He was given a planned C-section. Which he supposed was the norm for his situation. As he started drifting off to sleep as he'd done so many times before he felt anxious. But when he awoke to a piercing wail, he knew everything was going to be ok.

After Nathan had gotten pregnant Pickles had been on high alert. The last thing he needed was to have a kid... especially when Nathan's seemed so damned needy all the time. Not that it wasn't cute or anything. Pickles would do anything for his nephews. But that's the point of it right? To be the crazy druggie uncle for the rest of his life. But fate had other plans for him. It hadn't even occurred to him that he had been showing symptoms until Abigail and Nathan had pointed it out. The anxiety attack that consumed him afterward was monumental. It had been a full year since Nathan's kid had been born and the scientists at the haus had been hard at work creating pregnancy tests for men, in case anything like it ever were to happen again. Grabbing one of the many packaged sticks from the bathroom medicine cabinet and pissed all over it (and himself in the process). Pickles paced the small space of the bathroom stall as he waited, aggravated he listened to Abigail and Nathan's murmurs through the door. As 10 agonizing minutes passed Pickles watched the stick's computer sensor light up beeping as it analized the data before lighting up one last time and reading in bold: PREGNANT. Throwing open the door Pickles shoved the stick in his friends' faces sobbing so hard he had to fight the urge to throw up. "What am I supposed to do now?!" He cried glared at them as if they had been the ones to cause the problem and not himself. Watching Nathan and Abigail stare at the stick in silence before meeting each other's eyes made Pickles want to scream and kick them both in the throats. But as Nathan gave Pickles the softest look he'd ever given him and laid a hand on his shoulder, somehow Pickles felt that everything was going to be ok. "You do your best, Pickles... We'll be right here for you every step of the way." As Pickles laid on the cold table with the doctor spreading freezing gel all over his tummy to get a good ultrasound, Pickles silently prayed that maybe there would be a tumor inside him instead. That the stick test was wrong and- But as a tiny racing heartbeat came to life over the monitor Pickles felt his soul jolt from his body. "No fuckin' way..." He remembered whispering, looking over to the monitor just in time to see his jellybean kick her tiny legs at the device. As the weeks went by and he started feeling things, he decided it might... maybe be a good time to tell the band and Charles. Not that they hadn't noticed anything suspicious. Pickles had quit his drinking and drugs cold turkey. A feat many had speculated would have killed him based on his resistance to rehab before. But as he stood, weak-kneed in front of everyone he truly cared about and thought about how poorly he had reacted to Nathan's news. He truly didn't know if his heart could take that kind of rejection. So as everyone was getting agitated and bored of sitting there he blurted it out. Nathan, being the first to know sat stock still, ready to defend Pickles if any of the others made a move to make fun of him. Toki, once again was elated and made a show of rubbing Pickles' tummy, stating "Uncle Toki ams best Unckle in de whole woild". Skwisgaar simply looked at Charles who rolled his eyes with paperwork on the ready. However this time Murderface seemed not to care as if it weren't a big deal. To say that Murderface's reaction didn't hurt Pickles' feelings a little would be a lie. But Something seemed off about the bassist that Pickles couldn't put a finger on. The redhead decided not to call his family with the news. Opting to just tell them he adopted his daughter once she was born was the more... comfortable option for him. When the planned C-Section date drew nearer and his clothes no longer fit him as well, Pickles, simply held his pants on with hair scrunchies and stretched his shirts to the breaking point before Nathan forced him to at least wear an old shirt of his. A sudden shot of pain dropped Pickles to his knees one week before his scheduled due date. He delivered a healthy baby girl early.

Murderface knew he was pregnant from the very start. His hormones were all over the place, he had morning sickness throughout the entire thing, his breasts ached like none other, and when the baby was big enough he could feel it inside himself wiggling around like a little soccer champion. He tried to hide it, however. Why? No one really knows. Some think it was because he didn't want to be seen as less masculine or gay... But the people that knew him truly knew better than to label him so shallowly. Murderface had suspected he was pregnant at the exact same time Pickles had. The last thing he wanted to do was steal Pickles' limelight. So he never once went to the doctor for it. When he started showing he played it off as excess weight gain from "lazing around the damned haus all day." But eventually, he started to wrap his belly loosely. It made him feel sicker than he already felt, and made the baby retaliate by kicking him in his lungs and spine. But... he didn't know at that point if he was fit to be a dad. As time trudged on and Pickles finally came clean bout being pregnant (even though he looked like he swallowed a watermelon at that point). William was overwhelmed with emotions. He wanted to stand up and unbind his tummy and announce "Me too!" But obviously, this was Pickles' moment... not his. So instead he tried to play it off as not a big deal... that he could care less even though he felt so many things he couldn't describe them all. Weeks later was when things for him started getting bad. Murderface's morning sickness evolved into all-day sickness. He could hardly keep anything down and ran an extremely high fever. Hiding in his room he shivered under his blankets waiting for something to happen as pain shot through his entire body. It shot through him in waves only minutes apart and in a moment of panic, he could no longer feel his baby's kicking. Calling Charles, he desperately explained the situation. Within seconds the gears and Charles were at his side, rushing him to the operating room. He knew Charles would chew him out later for it. He knew he'd be in a lot of trouble. But as the anesthesiologist put him under all he really cared about was his baby. Hours passed. Charles paced outside the operating room door for any sort of news. He had already had his gears buy the necessities for William. Charles was fuming. Why hadn't anyone told him- As one surgeon emerged with a drowsy Murderface holding a beautiful baby boy as well as a baby girl with bright green eyes, he couldn't find it in himself to lecture him.

When Toki found out that Murderface had twins and he hadn't had a baby yet. To say he didn't feel a little left out would be an understatement. They were Planet Piss! They did everything together! If anyone should have known it should have been him! Running into Skwisgaar's room Toki wailed and cried, shaking his Swedish lover, begging for a baby. Skwisgaar of course refused. He had managed to avoid babies so far in his life he wasn't about to start having any willingly now. That is until Toki threatened to find another more willing more handsome blonde Swede to help him. He changed his mind rather quickly. They tried for months with no luck at all to get Toki pregnant. The longer time went on the more the brunette seemed to become frustrated with himself. Skwisgaar truly hated seeing Toki so disheartened, so in a desperate attempt to help, he had the scientists develop a fertility medication for the Norwegian to take. Weeks after starting the shots Toki had become sore and nauseous after eating what he believed to be bad herring the night before and the pair switched things up for the night. Eventually, Toki stopped testing every single day like he had before, his hope and enthusiasm had melted into disappointment and shattered dreams months ago. But as Pickles pointed out his bloated belly one morning the feelings of excitement rushed over him once more as he tried so hard not to allow himself to become swept away by his emotions. PREGNANT. Toki screamed at the test, jumping up and down in his and Skwisgaar's shared bathroom. The swede bolted in moments later gasping for breath and pushing back golden locks with a worried look as he tried to assess the situation. "It ams- I- Oh Skwis, look!" Toki squealed, throwing his arms around his partner's neck. Pulling the test from Toki's tight grip Skwisgaar nearly feinted, leaning on the wall for support. The next few months were filled with the littlest of things. Well except the day that Skwisgaar was forced to test for Toki's pure amusement, only to find out that the fertility medication worked a little too well. He could have killed Toki that day, had he not seen the literal sunbeam through his smile at the fact they were going to be having two babies, "A trues family." Toki called it. So Skwisgaar pushed through all the little stuff alongside Toki. And to say it was anything but awful was a lie. They fought more than they ever did in the first few months. So much so Pickles and Nathan were sure they weren't going to make it as a couple. Then came the makeup clinginess. Which wouldn't have been bad, if Toki didn't experience the worse morning sickness of the two and ended up just vomiting all over Skwisgaar by accident. By the time it subsided, they were buying baby supplies and massaging oil on each other's baby bumps. Neither of them could reach their feet to put their shoes on and often just lied on the bed while the other struggled to pull on their shoes for them, bitching all the way. Toki was the first to go into his planned C-Section. He was scared of the surgeons. Skwisgaar had to go in a gown and mask with him and hold his hand throughout the procedure even though he was asleep. He was the first to hold their son, who looked just like Toki, much to his amusement. A few moths later Skwisgaar gave birth to a healthy little girl her hair was a lighter brown than Toki's but Skwisgaar was simply grateful it wasn't blonde.

[harryssyndrome]

The Enemy: 1 | Castaway

A/N: It's nice to be back along a idea with my love life. Hopefully my spark will stay alive to finish this short story. Thank you for your support in all of my stories. Guess what's gonna happen next and let me know in the comments. And I'm sorry in advance for any historical errors if any in the future chapters. More to come soon!

Pairing: Harry Styles x OC

Word Count: 1.2k

Series Master-Post | MASTERLIST

Home - July 22nd, 1944 - 4:38 PM - Syracuse, Italy

The sun was slowly heading toward the horizon and air felt soft, bunch of seagull were playing in the open sky. Kate was sitting on a chair in a comfortable silence by the coastline. She was reading a new thriller novel when a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders, alarmed, she gasped, making her roommate laugh. Rave was her soul sister more than a friend or roomie.

"Oh I'm gonna get you" Kate says, throwing her book on her seat as she ran after Rave, both laughing like little kids. Running into the beach, time waiting for either of the girl to slow down and eventually the girls stopped, catching their breath.

Rave walked up to Kate and sat down pulling her as well, the waves were touching their feet. "Girl with your face and fantasies mostly read romance novels but you are just the opposite, what is it with you? Bad taste in boys or you're hiding a secret I don't know." Rave asked with mischievous voice.

"You know everything there is missy! I never dated a boy so can't comment about a taste and you know it besides, thriller is something my life is missing out right now." Kate says playfully.

"Point to be taken my lady. Who knows a thrill ride finds its way to you by just a boy!" Rave smiles while Kate playfully rolls her eyes and mimics talking with her hand like 'blah blah'.

"I'm serious Katie! Life gets exciting babe"

"Maybe... but right now? I wanna enjoy this moment with my girl." Kates smirks and then splashes salty water into her face. Rave softly moans and starts splashing the water back at Kate.

The clouds were slowly rising from the ocean and mist was hid the outline of the coast. The girls were giggling and smiling through their wet faces, when Rave's eyes befell on something black and she stopped playing, making Kate confused. "What is that thing?" Grabbing Kate's attention, Rave nudged her to move on and check it out, while she would stay behind her. "Why?"

"Because you read more thriller books than I do."

Taking steady steps toward the thing Kate's heart hammered into her chest, approaching further they began to realize it's a man. He was flung up out of the ocean. Arms above his head, feet by the beaker; girls stood in front of the unconscious man wondering how he managed to come through the dangerous spiked rocks. Well he did somehow - he must've been badly torn. They inspected him to find indeed he was so. The sand on one side of him slowly became stained of red soaking through.

Kate squatted down to take a look at the condition of his face, upon his young and tortured face was a cut, his brunette hair, wet. Blood flowed freshly at her touch. On the right side of his lower back Kate saw that a gun wound had been reopened. The flesh was blackened with charge of powder. Sometime, not many days ago, the man had been shot and had not been tended. It was bad chance that the rock had struck the wound.

"Help me get him inside" She said in hurry, as Rave helped her to lift him. The girls swing his arms around their neck when Rave exclaims "He's a British soldier!" As she stops, "I know" Kate voice sounds small, eyes still looking at the unconscious man.

"And you're helping him? Still?! Do you even realize the consequences of this?!" She spat back.

"I know... but we can't leave him here to die now that we've found him. I know he's the enemy, but it's not his fault that the world is standing on a battlefield, he was doing his part and anyways we as a doctor take a oath. We're bounded by it. And if we not even consider that, then we really shouldn't be doctors and most importantly, I'm doing this for humanity. I'm ready to be a traitor and at least for now I'm not regretting it."

"Well... I can digest this by simply saying this again 'thrill ride found its way to you by just a boy' yeah?"

"Yeah" girls passed a small smile to each other.

They carried him up the steps and into the side door of the house. This door opened into a passage, and down the passage they carried the man towards an empty bedroom. Kate bent down and started to peel off his clothes so that she could later wash off the sand and dirt while she had Rave get a bucket of water and a small towel to wipe him.

Rave rushed back into the room with the bucket and handed over the wet towel to Kate as she asked her to prepare the tools for operation, she headed out with a nod. When she came back, she gave the man an injection of anesthesia, Kate located the area where the blood flowing like a river, she felt the tip of his instrument strike against something hard, dangerously near the kidney, then quickly, with the cleanest and most precise of incisions, the bullet was out.

The man quivered but he was still unconscious. "He won't need more anesthesia I guess" Rave says calmly while Kate turned as swiftly as though she had never paused and from her medicines she chose a small vial and from it filled a hypodermic and thrust it into the patient's left arm. Then putting down the needle, she took the man's wrist again. The pulse under her fingers fluttered once or twice and then grew stronger.

"He will surely survive." Kate says with a tearful grin, hugging her best friend. It was her first ever operation without any assistance and she pulled it off with ease moreover she was happier about the fact that this man who seems not more than 25 years old will live.

She checks her wristwatch it was almost 8 pm so they decided to let him have rest and have some rest themselves after having an 'exciting day. Kate lied down on the couch, closing her eyes and taking deep breath while Rave brought two glasses of cold coffee in her hand, she softly whispered "Katie" as she sat in semi-sitting position and took the glass from Rave's hand and says "thank you". The girls sipped in silence until Rave broke it, "what are we gonna do next?" Kate just shrugged.

Thank you so much for taking time to read this chapter! Reblog and likes are appreciated!💗 Dm me or comment to be added on the tag list!

Chapters earlier available on Wattpad

[skoulsons]

hi. So I have nearly 90 drafts that have piled up over the course of about 3 or 4 months, so I guess I’ll start posting them now 😭 I haven’t really read over this or checked it and I think I wrote it at 4am, so I’m sorry if it loses any coherency

(Headcanon?? or im just down bad) but like, joel’s “if somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again” being the way he tells ellie he loves her is so incredibly profound to me. Love (WE’RE TALKING PLATONIC) isn’t a feeling. People act like it is, which is why so many people fall out of it. Love is commitment, serving, and choosing them every single day. It’s in your actions. Their entire story shows this. Even in the little things, like joel teaching her how to play guitar. But even in the greater things. Ellie keeping him alive all throughout winter. Sure, she needed him to get to the fireflies, but I think winter goes deeper than that. This is post-ranch argument. The ranch argument (and joel taking her back while they’re sitting above Jackson) and joel finding her with David are *their* moments. The moments when we see, okay, they are stuck together now. Even once they reach the fireflies, that’s not the end like we thought it would be a few hours ago. They’re going to stay together. Joel saying “I’m never gonna leave you again” to her in that silent moment immediately after he finds her after David is such a….I can’t think of the word oh my sjdhdjd but like their relationship is kind of solidified(?). Like their solidifying moment of “we’re with each other now”. And I think winter shows Ellie’s deep, profound love for Joel. Giving him literally all the warmth and as much as comfort as they could have (yes he was dying obviously just shhhh), probably nearly starving herself to make sure he got the majority of food and water she was able to get. She did that for weeks while he was knocking on deaths door. And joel, while she was just a job at the beginning, has still protected her from day one. And obviously his big moment of action that showed his love (no matter what way you view the end of the first game), was him saving her from the fireflies. He could not bear to lose another daughter, so he killed doctors and soldiers and everyone in his way to save her life. NOW to tie back to my first sentence in this whole spiel. I do believe they’ve both loved each other for years now, and I think it was always an understood thing between them. Joel’s love definitely never faltered through those last two years, though I’m sure you could argue Ellie’s did. Or didn’t, I don’t know. But it wasn’t something they ever said to each other. At the time of their porch conversation, tensions are very high. Ellie is still upset from the dance with Joel’s intervention, and she’s still giving him the cold shoulder bc of his lie. I think a lot of things go through his head when she says “I should’ve died in that hospital. My life would’ve fcking mattered. But you took that from me”. I think one thing is, and something I probably would not have controlled, is her saying her life would’ve mattered if she died for the cure. If I were joel I would’ve spewed about how she does matter and blah blah blah sappy stuff ynow. But he’s walking on thin ice here. He knows she feels betrayed. He knows they’re not how they used to be. He knows he can’t just say anything because he may upset her more, and that’s at the top of his list of thing he does not want to do. And so he waits a minute and tries to collect his thoughts and what he wants to tell her. He thinks of something that, while it combats everything she just said to him, also holds a lot of weight of their relationship and why he did what he did. I genuinely think that him saying this is just “I love you” in its purest, most raw, emotional, profound (I’ve said this like 7 times im sorry it just f i t s) form. If he said “I love you too much to let you die”, that would’ve scared her off. But he gave her something that she needed to hear and to start to understand why he did it and how he STILL feels, even after everything. And sometimes I wonder if the “I would do it all over again” refers to just the hospital, or their entire journey as a whole. Either way, I think it still tells her enough.

-And so she tells him she doesn’t think she’ll be able to forgive him and it BREAKS him. The thought of losing her, or not so much losing her, but never getting their relationship back to birthday level camping trip highs, kills him. His breath is shaky immediately. But then she tells him, maybe she could forgive him. But not that she could, but that she’d LIKE to try. She WANTS to get back to that birthday level camping trip high of the relationship they used to have. As hurt as she is, she misses it. He’s (I believe, personally) the most important person in her life, even if at this point. She wants to get back there as much as he does. And he starts to break more. Because now, there’s a chance, though incredibly small, that he COULD get her back. And that is more than enough. It could take years, but he’s happy with it. He’s thrilled to know that, even after everything, she is willing to try. Can you imagine early tlou2 if it were different and we got to see a cutscene of Ellie asking joel if he wanted to watch Curtis and Viper 2 that night? The smile that would’ve come to his face?

ALSO I FORGOT TO GO WITH THE LAST CHUNK OF TEXT.., him singing future days to her I think is also such a big profession of love. They’ve been in Jackson a few months and they’re living a “normal” lil family father-daughter life now. Not out every day fighting for their life. They get to settle down. And obviously his attachment to ellie has been going on for a while, but them being like,, they’re glued together now. They’re WITH each other. Joel’s adopted her ok ive talked to Neil druckmann myself I know things. But joel signing this to her is just so incredibly special. He loves her so much. I literally sat in my bed last night and was full on sobbing bc the degree that his love goes for her is beyond my comprehension. Every time I think about I CANNOT wrap my head around it. It’s so insane to me. But he loves her so incredibly much. He got a second chance at fatherhood and refuses to lose ellie, under any circumstance as we’ve seen, even if the rest of the human race was on the line, he can’t lose her. Now obviously as I mentioned above, we never hear the “i love you” sentiment actually said between either of them, but we see it in their actions. All their actions throughout the games, even the little things. And I think what joel says on the porch is as much of an i love you as you can get, i think I’m singing to her is just as much as well. He could’ve sung ANY song he knew on guitar, but no he picked future days to show her how much he loves her. “If i ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. I believe, cause I can see, our future days, days of you and me” (yes I cut some lines out) BUT LIKE???? GDKDHDK but not even just talking about the lyrics or the fact that they show exactly what joel is trying to say, it’s also that this is the song joel uses to introduce ellie to guitar. To introduce her to something he 1) promised he’d teach her and 2) it’s something he LOVES. it’s just so,?:?!&,)?:,;@($ i love their love I love their story I love the little things I love overthinking about them

[here2bbtstrash]

hey there<3 i'm sending this as an anonymous because there will be a lot of expressing emotions in here which i'm not used to doing.. so it's gonna be weird to me if i reread it again after you post it..🫶🏼

ahhh i don't know where to start honestly.. i've installed this app without knowing what's ahead of me.. especially getting to know new people, it was an unexpected thing. i thought i would be a silent reader, i've always been one.

the reason why i even installed tumblr is because i wanted to follow mimi - you probably know her. i had no idea how to use this app nor how this broken site works😭 but i never knew i would be so lucky💜

one day, i opened the app, and one of your works (a popular hobi fiction 👀) was at the top of the page. it had like 3k notes i guess? so i decided to read it and it was truly amazing<3 and that's where the journey began!!

and then i commented on one of your posts and then you were like: 'welcome', something like that. i mean you did welcome me and it was so nice of you!? that's when i knew that you're a very sweet person!<3 you gave a very good first impression 😏😊

i went ahead and took a look at your blog, everything about it. and when i knew that you identify yourself as queer, i smiled so hard😭 i mean i am straight, but something about queers hits different, i really genuinely love them. (and no please don't think i'm creepy 👀)

anyways, and that's when i decided to start reading your fictions!! i read 90% of them and if i started to talk about how good your writing is it would take hours to just describe the beauty of it. so let's just say it's perfect<3

your style of writing brings comfort to me, even if it's just porn. i really don't care if it's angsty, fluffy, smutty,... it just comforts me in a way that can't be described, at least by me because i suck at these things :')

you're the type of person who i wish i could meet one day<3 i didn't only read your fictions, i saw when you felt tired, unmotivated, sad, even confused in some asks and i wished i could hug you and make you smile. because i once was sad and you were there for me. i vented, and you listened.. you even said things to me that i will never ever forget in my whole life. i still look at them in my screenshots whenever i feel down and that one reason can truly show why i love you so much 💜

i still remember when you started the process of writing TSOYB, and then at some point you thought it was shit ☹️ but then it was drop day and i got to read a magnificently written fiction and it was obvious how much you had worked for it to turn out this way!! i was so proud of you (and i still am!💜) because you didn't fucking give up even when you felt it was trash. you trusted the process and i learnt a lesson from you. because i'm a perfectionist, so if i don't do something correctly at the first time, i start to think i'm literally useless and all of the overthinking shit starts again blah blah. so now whenever i even think to overthink 😭 i remember someone like you exists💜 i remember your words. you helped me em💜

ah i don't know what else to say.. there's still like too many emotions i wanna express but i just don't know how to do that.

god i just love you with all my heart, you don't even have an idea about my gratefulness towards you. and to god who gave me a chance to know such a wonderful person!!💜💜

like namjoon once said: "i wish there was a better word than 'love'. i really truly love you. please know that."

(and please please if there was any type of weirdness in this i'm so sorry it's 2:48! am!)

omg anon 🥺 this is so overwhelmingly sweet i don't even know how to respond!!!! i'm gonna stick it under a cut so this isn't a million years long hahaha 💜

i'm so glad you managed to find me - bless party on you for blowing up lmao 🙏 and glad you felt welcomed!! the more people that follow the harder it gets for me to keep up with everyone personally, but i do really try to make sure everyone feels welcome here 🥺 (except bigots 👹) - it's important to me to curate a safe chill space where we can all just read porn and have fun lmao!

LOL NOT QUEERS HIT DIFFERENT that's so fucking funny akhglksjrgsjfkg can confirm we do 😌

gahhhhh you're so kind about my writing thank you thank you 🫠 i think this is probably my favorite compliment to get, that people feel comforted by my work. it's brought me a lot of comfort to write and to establish this little blog, so the fact that i can share that with others is truly priceless!!

and omg 🥺 you got to see the process work in real-time!! that's so wild. i really do think i hit a bottom on pretty much every fic i write (sometimes i'm more vocal about it on tumblr, sometimes less) where i just feel like ugh, this sucks, it's never gonna be good, i should give up. and part of the writing process is just pushing through that - which is really hard for me because i am also a perfectionist!! but you're so right. sometimes you just have to trust the process and do whatever it is anyway, even when every word feels like a struggle!

this was such a sweet note to receive 😭 i'm sorry it took me so long to respond!! but i didn't want to half-ass a reply either since you took the time to share your thoughts and be so vulnerable. that really means the world to me! i love you a lot and i hope you're having a wonderful new year so far 💜 and i'm always here if you need me!!

[jodilin65]

When I look at the comments on some of the IVF articles it amazes me how more and more people are anti-abortion and just how conservative this country is getting.

When I asked myself who I would vote for if I was going to vote, not that I’m going to vote for real of course, saying I would vote for Trump may be stretching it a bit but the little bastard may actually be better than Biden for a few reasons. First, the attack on gays and women is going to continue no matter who gets elected. That’s just something that’s going to get worse and worse probably for decades before it gradually gets better if it does. I think it will fluctuate over the decades and even centuries where sometimes women will have more rights and other times they won’t.

But Biden got absolutely nothing done but invited tens of thousands of people into the country to hog our resources and give billions of dollars to other countries. Yes, Trump is a misogynist who’s probably a closet case who can’t deal with his feelings and will take his frustration out on gays and women any chance he gets. And yes, it was horrible that he appointed bigoted justices and all that but what’s done is done and like I said, things are only going to get worse before they get better.

So maybe it would actually be better to have a president who’s going to staunch the flow of migrants from taking jobs away from Americans and calling for longer waiting times getting into doctors and adding to the overcrowding. And maybe he won’t be as quick to give as much of our money away. Just something to think about unless he plans to target older people next. The guy’s amount of popularity and supporters really stuns me. He is definitely the most talked about and the most popular president we ever had next to Obama.

I try to remind myself that if the masses believe, think, or do something, it’s usually for a reason yet I’m still not seeing the “human” in embryos or fetuses. I see the potential human but it’s kind of like a seed versus a tree. Well, a seed isn’t a tree. I also don’t see the sin in two consenting adults in love just because they may have the same body parts. Sometimes I wish I could see it their way because it’s the norm and following norms is always easier but I just can’t and I don’t.

In the latest episode of my show, they talked about how some scientists believe they have proof that some of the disasters mentioned in the Bible actually happened because the people living there pissed God off. Well, I still say there likely is no God and that the Bible is simply stories, but if they’re right, then we have a very evil, spiteful God who doesn’t love everybody unconditionally as many people claim. Besides, if that was the case, why isn’t he wiping us all out right now with the way things are so fucked up in the world?

I keep going back and forth in my mind as to whether or not my TSH is getting too low for comfort. My dry skin and hair and the way I feel cold say it’s not but I also could be cold from not eating much. Tom thanks my weight is down because I haven’t eaten much but with the way I’ve been feeling tonight, I think it’s down because my TSH is dropping. I tell you, I know my body and I don’t lose weight no matter how sick I get. In my twenties and even my thirties I may have but certainly not now. I know the drill and what to do about it if it is, though, and that’s to simply cut my waiting time a bit before food and drink and that will back it off. If I ignore it, the anxiety and the blah moods will intensify.

I still wish I was more connected at times. Being on nights half of my life doesn’t help but even if I was always on days I still wouldn’t have the friends and family I sometimes wish I had. Sometimes I wish I was surrounded by parents, siblings, cousins, and close friends who were totally supportive, accepting, non-judgmental, and not the least bit toxic in any way. But then I remind myself that things could be much worse like if I was alone with absolutely no one. I really believe that if I hadn’t met Tom I wouldn’t be alive. I also try to keep in mind that more people means more trouble. There are too many bad people out there. Too many backstabbing, lying phony people who just want to use you, judge you and try to change and control you.

I’ll still be doing a little socializing because I’m now signed up for the painting class on the 21st. I’m also going to get a pedicure sometime while Tom checks out a nearby store he wants to check out, so we do have some fun things to look forward to other than doctor’s appointments and labs.

We got bombs ready now that creepy crawlies are waking up, so we’ll be out for at least a couple of hours that day.

I want to go down to the beach but I don’t want to have to race against time to find the nearest charger that isn’t broken, in use, or taking a year to give us enough of a charge to get to our next destination.

In today’s junk mail came a postcard for looking up information to donate blood. I guess they do this all over town. They give you a T-shirt and a $20 gift certificate.

For just a buck I got frosty light pink lipstick with our last Walmart order and it looks nice. It’s noticeable but doesn’t stand out a mile away.

[monsterparade]

re: social anxiety— after many years of struggling with the same thing and freaking out as it got worse as i "matured," i eventually figured out that the only thing that really helped was pushing through it and confronting my fears head-on, little by little (which other people had been advising me and which i HATED hearing, but turns out it's actually true /:). it really helps to hype yourself up as much as you can beforehand by picturing interactions going *perfectly,* in detail, and telling yourself/believing that it *will* play out just like this, if not better! blah blah manifestation etc (it...works, though. truly.). if you find your mind drifting into negative thinking, gently drop that train of thought and redirect your attention to something else. social anxiety is habitual patterning in the brain that can be rewired much more easily than you'd expect. the more you stress over your "worsening" anxiety, the more conditioned you become to responding anxiously to certain triggers. start unlearning this patterning by being aware of your own thinking, noticing when you start to revert to it and then focusing your attention on something that has no stressful associations, like a pet or whatever. find a 'happy place' that you can cultivate in your mind's eye, to retreat to when negative thinking rears up again. fill this place with joyful thoughts that relax you and make you feel good. if/when you do push past the anxiety and connect socially, celebrate afterwards and reward yourself for trying no matter what happens (and chances are it will go so much better than you'd expect!), and find a way to relax! demonstrate to your brain that social interactions are actually fine and see how quickly things change for you :)

protips: join a zoom offering that many people participate in, and remain off-camera. it might feel scary to participate but you'll be surprised how lowkey it really is. say something nice in the chat box! maybe later, test your courage by turning your camera on :) also, try leaving nice anonymous messages in people's askboxes on tumblr. when you're feeling less intimidated, leave asks that aren't anonymous! most people are gonna love this!! or leave comments on fics on ao3, as a guest if you're more comfortable, or not— better yet if the author frequently replies to comments! small interactions like these get easier and easier, until your brain becomes desensitized to any anxiety over these kinds of actions <3

Hey, there! Thanks for taking the time to send this, that was very kind. And it's all definitely good advice. Working to redirect my negative thoughts will be an uphill battle, especially now that I'm without a therapist, but something I still need to be more diligent about. I love the idea of leaving comments on fanfics as social practice. I kinda do that on tiktok as well, but hadn't even thought to frame that as socializing for some reason, haha!

[laughingpinecone]

Yuletide 2022 letter

AO3: laughingpineapple (double-checked a-ok for treats as per the recent AO3 update blah blah)

Hello and thank you for writing for me! I hope you’ll have a great time playing with one of these wonderful canons!

I love a wide variety of fics - from the most delicate gen to explicit, any tense, any format, big yes to all kinds of weird experiments up to and including interactive fiction. In general, I love canon expansion (showing new places in the setting or exploring those that are barely mentioned, just outside the borders, and ditto with events), character work of all stripes (expanding on little quirks, putting characters in situations that complement/challenge certain personality traits of theirs, just... observing these weirdos as they live their lives, for better and for worse), magical realism and adjacent approaches. I eat up emotional moments with a spoon when a fic is character-centric (danger! catharsis! hurt/comfort! the nitty-gritty of attraction!) and also love abstract stuff that is not character-centric at all: fake academia, a wider focus, inhuman povs, anything goes.

For both romance and friendships, I love it when it’s clear (not necessarily to the characters themselves, but to the narrative) what they like about each other, how they get along, if and how they trust each other. The specificity of each dynamic! I also love it when the characters are very into something that makes sense for them, be it a hobby or a kink or whatever, even if it’s something I may not personally care for.

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, pregnancies, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents and paired-up OC randos are okay!), canon retellings

And now, in strict alphabetical order and with the usual disclaimer that shorter prompts don’t mean I want it any less:

Disco Elysium (Steban, Uli)

The Leftist Infighting(tm) request. I love them and I love to poke fun at them. I love this take on useless ivory tower intellectuals who are also so young and bristling to be part of something real, love that that something real is coming fast and hard and they may die for it, love that given the state of Communism in Revachol they radicalized themselves up by their bootstraps, love that Steban studies economy (that’d radicalize me too, I think) and Uli stopped attending altogether, their stray-cat-friendship with Cindy, that Gaston speaks up against “communists” being about to be evicted and that means Steban and... Cindy and/or Uli? Where does Uli live anyway? Was there only one bed? I love that they are very earnest and very silly, love that they look like echoes of Harry and Kim in a different life, love Uli’s barely repressed anger and Steban seeming “like a romantic, in his own way”. I love this little crumbling corner of idealism that doesn’t even know what to do with itself and certainly doesn’t fit a world that’s not made for it, but remains moving and true.

If you want to ramp up inframaterialism talk, with pure theory or some other small miracle happening, I’m here for it. Ditto if you want to write one of their articles for La Fumée, have them write or talk about Dobreva and Abadanaiz, or share their Opinions On Mazovian Yaoi. Like a “& worldbuilding” request, basically. They have Opinions! On so many things! And I’d love to hear them.

Or have them interact with anyone else in Martinaise! As part of the expansion of the book club? Who do they manage to recruit? As neighbors? Cindy is right there painting in their attic. The Smoker lives next door and maybe studies at the same university. Cuno also lives next door, technically. Or do they end up at the ravers’ club? Do they ever hear the city and in what context? Do Harry (and Kim?) come back to the club? A chance meeting with Dros pre-canon, speaking of leftist infighting, I think it’s their turn to be called fuckin libs. Helping Gaston in the wake of René’s loss?

Additional prompting round thanks to a friend: do they try to win over Garte? How do they get along with Liz (who shares their same theme of "sheltered Youth wants to feel something real" and has her post-tribunal issues to work through)? What do they think of Evrart, if it doesn’t already come up in some twist of their convos I haven’t seen? What happens when (GASP) Steban and Uli eventually discover some minor doctrinal difference they have with each other?

As a sort of Tlön Uqbar Orbis Tertius crossover prompt, if something like that happened in Elysium would it be a win for inframaterialism or a terrible perversion of plasm? What does the book club think of that short story?

Ship-wise: can these two manage to turn their UST/feelings/relationships into a political act, weave some abstruse discourse into it, be all the more into each other for it if applicable, and not touch grass at any point whatsoever? You know that fanart where they’re even more insufferable once they’re together? That. Or before that, who’s pining for whom, and what’s the tipping point? Frankly I think that if Kim saying that his buddy is "only saying that because he *likes* getting thrashed like a schoolboy" is worthy of a “TMI, guys” reply from Steban, fair and square... then Uli offering up HIS buddy to be punched is also. skirting close to. something. Can’t exactly unthink “Uli are you by chance into this”.

Ships: I’m into both Steban/Uli and Steban&Uli. I also like Kim/Harry, Ruby/Soona, Garte/Sylvie. Cindy/Liz?

Fandom-specific DNWs: overall positive depictions of the RCM, overall positive depictions of the Innocentic system and Dolores Dei in particular, “$character is the next Innocence” what-ifs, postponing Le Retour, averting the nuke, averting the end of the world, Jean Judit a/o Trant appearing or being mentioned in the fic.

Ghost Trick (Cabanela, Jowd)

I love their dynamic at its highs and lows, with that unstoppable force+immovable object thing they've got going, the competence and charisma. As best friends or romantically, how far does Jowd's loyalty go? Cabanela loooves playing villain- to what end, and does Jowd call his bluff? They're difficult people to be with, how do they get each other in a tough moment, maybe one when Cabanela's choice of coping methods (intense denial and all) backfires, or when Jowd is more toxic than radioactive waste? With many thanks to last year’s amazing fic for this prompt, forever in my heart, do they go somewhere incognito or costumed for work or otherwise, and do they coordinate or pretend not to know each other?

I’m intrigued by the effort that Cabanela must put into maintaining his perfect secrets, always controlled, never leaving a clue. As the cast’s foremost “yes, and” enthusiast, it could be fun to have Jowd play along with gusto if it’s a shared secret, or see through him anyway if it wasn’t shared. Because there’s one person in the world (two when Alma is alive... three with Sissel eventually?) who knows how to handle this ridiculous human being and it’s his godsdamn best friend. Who is just as ridiculous.

Jowd coming to terms with the extent of Cabanela’s loyalty never fails to get me. It’s so much! All for him? Why. All the guilt and self loathing that makes it very complicated for him to reciprocate.

New timeline casefic with ghost support is always great. Maybe they discover another ghost, too?

Or if you want, go wild with AUs! Western with ghosts? Space opera with aliens? Fantasy? Species swap, what kind of animals would they be?

Ships: Cabanela/Jowd as long as it's not cheating, Alma/Cabanela/Jowd, Alma/Jowd&Cabanela, Alma/Cabanela in alternate timelines when it's not cheating. I love "married couple gets a +1" in any flavor that does not involve cheating. I LOVE to see takes on Alma and her dynamic with her husband and their Cabanela.

Other characters: love the whole cast! Please feel free to bring in anyone - my faves are Alma, Kamila, Sissel, Missile, Pigeon Man and Emma. I am not interested in receiving anything Cabanela&Yomiel (a Yomiel&Jowd detour otoh is cool).

Püha ja õudne lõhn | Sacred and Terrible Air (Any: Khan, Zigi, Saint Miro, Worldbuilding)

BIG HONKING SPOILERS. Feel free to ask for canon availability!

Khan: tell me everything about his collection! Make up memorabilia! Or his venturing into the Pale. What does he feel, what does it give him and what does it undo about him. I’m fascinated by the part of his personality that focuses, and is shaped by, disappearances. In general, I love how the book observes the ways in which the boys’ single-minded focus shapes them and wrecks them in three different ways. And Khan’s case is the one that’s by far the most interesting to me (I love characters who feel pulled to the void one way or another and he puts a fun spin on it). The evolution of his friendship with Tereesz is also intriguing, I’d love a piece about the two of them.

Zigi: Elysian STALKER go go go! Zigi and his imaginary best friend Ignus Fucking Nilsen. If that’s not metaphysical comedy gold I don’t know what is, I wish those chapters lasted forever. So, please more of that, or of Zigi traversing the near-Pale by himself - what does this liminality feel like, does he feel the pull of the depths? Did he feel the acceleration when it happened? We know that his dad thinks St Miro is a cringe nihilist, what’s Zigi’s take on it, did he even find out about recent political developments from the depths of his peculiar choice of hermitage? Give me any detail of his daily life in this ever-expanding impossible space!

His Innocence Ambrosius Saint Miro: give. me. the. deets. Controversial media personality, infamous since the early ‘50s at least. Gets crowned on the brink of a world war and fucking nukes it. WHAT a guy. They don’t make ‘em like this every century. Dude ensured they won’t be making any guys in the next one. How about another speech of his? (And people reacting to it? Disco Elysium characters having Opinions, for a crossover prompt? Please refer to my Disco DNWs, in case. For one, I’d kill for Harry “Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau” Du Bois and Kim to discuss the next Innocence. Or the ravers. I’m expectantly holding up a mic in Noid’s general direction) The circumstances of his anointment? Did he believe he had the stuff to be crowned Innocence before, does he now or is he more of a fake it till you make it kind of guy? How do his nihilist views hold up against the sensation of being the embodiment of the spirit of the times, and that his times are the end times? Does that sensation change him? As an accelerationist (and a very successful one at that!) what does he see in the Pale? Glowing lungs are so passé, what’s his iconography and what weird and poignant extraphysical phenomena follow him?

Worldbuilding: I’d also like weird and poignant extraphysical phenomena regardless of the asshole in charge, please. Another instance of ZA/UM usage (be it by Tereesz or OCs). Whatever the hell was up with the entroponetic qualities of cherry speed. Mold. “The Romangorod Conference distinguishes ten different types of missing persons. The ninth of them, non-entity, is in gross violation of the International Declaration of Human Rights” okay what about the tenth one tho. Or the fifth. Anything in detail about the Noosphere and freaky lil Mirova details (feat. Dora if you wanna crossover). Something something Self-Chiller. Something nice happening to Dobreva and Abadanaiz before their deaths. Or make up a “lore chapter” wholesale, make up a topic that parallels to some degree whatever’s going on in the book. ...What WAS that sacred and terrible smell in the air that time, anyway?

Ships: I’m really into Dobreva and Abadanaiz annnnd that’s it I guess.

Fandom-specific DNWs: overall positive depictions of the Innocentic system, as it were.

Pyre (Volfred)

I’m so charmed by this smug revolutionary tree it’s not even funny. Make up any situation in which he can do his thing and I’ll be happy - be sort of full of himself but also sort of rightfully so, pragmatic to a fault except when he’s overwhelmed by grief, bearing the burden of taking care of the practical side of an impossible shared vision (and seeing it fail before it started and eventually picking up the pieces and starting again), long-winded and very much in love with his voice (also rightfully so) and also that’s what history professors are like, extremely charismatic, a mind reader with a higher calling which is always a dangerous combo when it comes to maybe going a step too far. I love this story set at the end of a cycle and I’m enamoured with characters who have enough historical awareness to acknowledge it and see that it’s up to them to bring about a new era. Canon’s bittersweet idealism is catnip to me.

I love him with Tariq who seems to be as charmed by him as I am (the shy, vague title of Volfred’s theme combined with its James Bond vibes are a killer combo. Tariq please) and with Oralech who’s maybe the only guy who can go “Volfred no” when needed. With oldest friend Bertrude with all the camaraderie it entails and all the Nightwings, really. Volfred & Hedwyn! & Rukey! & Pamitha! & ae!!!

I would also be interested in seeing him face people from the other triumvirates in more or less friendly situations - generally sticking close to canon for the level of danger they might pose. Volfred & Dalbert bonding and fanboying the Scribes on one end; Udmildhe maybe being a real actual threat on the other end, with Extreme Sap Drama Volfred VS Manley somewhere in the middle - Volfred would hate having to deal with Manley and what is fanfiction for if not bothering our faves? Or Volf VS Brighton for that matter, with similar levels of annoyance and pomp and juicy ideological clashes. In these cases I wouldn’t be interested in a reconciliation, and I don’t sympathize with Manley nor Brighton but I do find them very funny and I’m just here with popcorn for the catfight. How’d it go if he had to spend some time with Ignarius? Or Celeste?

As general Volf prompts: he’s a natural schemer, does he naturally assume that everyone else is also scheming 24/7? Does he, an actual historian with focus on the Scribes, find any reliable info on the Scribes from primary sources Tariq or Sandra or Celeste, or from ae? Does anyone (my bet’s on Pam) find out that he literally graded the Nightwings’ usefulness to the Plan? Is he a chain smoker or is it a one pipe a day kind of deal?

I don’t have specific headcanons about Sap biology; if you do, please tell me all about them. With or without Tariq’s or Oralech’s involvement (whose biology is probably also delightfully weird). Capital-letter-Reading can also be involved! What’s it like to mind-meld with the actual moon, or to get permission from the guy who spent like six years hating your guts?

Ships: Volfred/Tariq, Volfred/Oralech, Volfred/Oralech/Tariq. I also like Pamitha/Bertrude and Celeste/Jodariel.

Fandom-specific DNWs: Oralech dead, Volfred and Oralech split end (I’m good with either topside or downside ending), Ignarius/Jodariel, Tariq/Celeste. The Reader being a central character in the fic.

Tlön Uqbar Orbis Tertius (Worldbuilding)

If there’s ever been a “go hog wild” request in the history of Yuletide, this is it. Oink oink. go. Please and thank you. The more transcendentally weird the better.

Any layer of this story is ripe for expansion and fractal instances of awe. A story about hrönir? More sophisms by heresiarchs? Fun times with visual geometry? Poetic objects? An encyclopedia page about Tlön’s take on some hyperspecific topic? Some strange surreal corner of Herbert Ashe’s involvement? Two or three of those astronomers, biologists,  engineers, metaphysicians, poets, chemists, algebraists, moralists etc having heated opinions, as academics are wont to have? And I’m sorry, let’s keep it philosophical first and foremost and all, but can we go back to the transparent tigers and tower of blood for a hot second? But also: that was the 40s. It is now 2022. What does society look like, under decades of influence by Tlön? What WAS Orbis Tertius, was it a work that would exist in writing or a work that would be lived by billions of people, a 1:1 cartography remaking this “third planet” of ours into its own image, and has it come to pass...? Convergences, intersections... ...where does this process leave Uqbar, that first fictitious nation whose fictitious literature depicted Tlön? What about Mlejnas?

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

Hello! I saw you request box is open so I wanted to request some fluffy headcanons for Buddha with his s/o? I recently discovered your blog and I am a fan now!

Oooh, I've never done headcanons before- great chance to analyze his character though, so thanks<3 I'll also go ahead and note that Reader is always human unless specified otherwise while we're here

GN!Reader x Buddha, SFW:) makeouts are mentioned and nsfw activities referenced once though!

I'm gonna start this off extremely basic but ONLY because it's undeniably true argue with a wall: He shares his candy with you 💕

He's a cheeky bastard, the type to kiss you and slide candy- usually your favorite -into your mouth, then smile all innocent like

The day he learned about the Pocky challenge he brought a dozen boxes

Naturally, by the end of it his taste would be stuck in your mouth permanently, the feeling of his tongue lingering long after you'd stopped

He'd definitely take you on trips with him. He loves to travel and experience the wonders of human society- and he thinks you're cute when you're smiling because you think he's cute🥰

Romantic dates in cities you've never even heard of before. He'd always do the "appetizer" part of the date taking you to popular places in whatever town or city or country you've found yourselves in, and always ended the night with a "main course"- some intimate one on one time in a quiet place he found while exploring. Whether "one on one" is explicit or just enjoying the others presence, it's always a great time

That bunny shirt he refuses to take off??? Yeah, you're getting that.

He loves loves loves to see you wearing any of his clothes, but seeing you wear that shirt in particular drives the man(god?) absolutely insane. You're starting to wonder if you even need your own wardrobe anymore.

When you aren't wearing his clothes, he'll pout and stare at you like some kicked puppy, maybe even beg on a particularly needy day

Do I even need to say this? He's extremely protective of you- not overbearingly so, but he's firm in his actions and won't hesitate to swoop in in full prince charming mode, doing whatever to keep you safe and happy.

It runs so much deeper than his love for humans- not only are you human, you're his human, his beloved human, his one and only. Harm to you is as much so harm to him. And nobody harms The Great Buddha himself.

Finally, his hair.

It's so long and luscious, unexpectedly well taken care of one might say. Around the time when he first started to truly fall for you, you'd started getting more comfortable around each other, taking baths together now.

You'd run your hands through his hair, slow, gentle, and so damn relaxing. Before either of you knew it, he was sleeping peacefully as you gently washed his hair, combing through every last strand, untangling every knot, washing away all the grime of the day.

Whenever he's stressed, he comes to you and lets you work your magic now❤️

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

A/N: This was unexpectedly easy to write! I think Buddha's a very romantic lover, while being a bratty ass at the same time. I've got so many cute thoughts running through my head now lol, thanks for that anon.

Blazy blah comments appreciated encouraged blahhhhh mistakes y'all know the deal. Goodbye, thanks for reading!

Also I didn't proofread this SO

[starshipsofstarlord]

Sheer | Kai Parker

Warnings; SMUT, ANGST, and FLUFF, mentions of death, mourning, loss, mentions of murder, trauma, swearing, unprotected sex,

A/N; sorta made up a whole storyline for this imagine, may be a teeny bit different and may have gotten a little carried away, please enjoy loves

It would not uphold, the weather held a grudge against you as you trudged through the pouring rain, cursing you for thinking that you would be safe on your lonesome.

Instead of a monster, the world wished for you to drown in its falling rivers, making you shiver down to the bone. It was too cold, but you had to go there, it was a ritual.

Since the death of your boyfriend, Aaron, who was killed by Damon, someone you thought to be a friend, you felt broken.

You had tried everything to bring him back, but without the power of a witch, it was deemed impossible, and Bonnie refused to help you, claiming that it was necromancy, and far from her beliefs.

It angered you, how everybody would dismiss the lost lives that Damon took. He got a free pass, he didn’t even regret his own invalid actions.

He was a monster, and you hated him. If you couldn’t bring Aaron back, then you would instead kill his murderer. That would not only give you a sense of revenge, but also make the world a safer place. There would be one less vampire making people’s lives a misery.

“Hi there.” You stopped in your tracks, the voice sending shivers down your spine. Whilst it sounded like a man, in reality it could be anything.

The skin of a human was a disguise the majority of the time, a bloodsucker or a wolf coping inside the exterior, thirsting to break free from the walls of bones and flesh.

“Kai.” He was not exactly human, he was a witch, the one thing that you needed. You had met him through Elena, who was luckily also angered by Damon’s actions, Aaron had been her friend.

And just like that, he had died. But she hid her feelings well, pretending all was fine because she was in love with the gruelling monster that you wished to execute.

However, even though you wanted to bring back your lost beloved, the time that had passed made your mind being up the idea of moving on.

The first person that sprung into your imagination was Kai Parker, the new sociopath in town. He was new, unaware of the traumatising past experience that lingered in your heart, and not to mention, his specimen was one of beauty.

Those grey eyes, ever so curious could bore straight into your soul, and you’d gladly let him mangle it, you no longer had a use for it anyway.

“Why are you out here y/n/n?” He asked with a tilt of his head that had your heart beating profusely.

Everyone knew of his effect on you, but they told you to dismiss it. It was cruel, that they’d rather have you mourning the loss of your partner than to move on with another.

To you, it didn’t matter if he were supposed to be the enemy, you no longer wanted to fight their battles. All you desired was to be in love, with somebody that felt the same.

And whilst you doubted that Kai knew how to feel such a strong emotion, some attention wasn’t the worst thing in the world. As a matter of fact, it worked well as a distraction, it made you almost forget the grudge that you held against the eldest Salvatore.

Almost.

“It’s nothing.” You whisked the direction of the conversation away from your deceased boyfriend, not wanting to talk about him to anyone, let alone Malachai Parker.

Even thinking of Aaron caused a void to open in the middle of your chest, it was unbelievably painful. You thought some people, such as Bonnie would understand, rather than think the loss as a regular occurrence.

To put it simply, the entire ordeal was completely fucked up, and you felt much more guilty for biting your lip at the expression that Kai pulled; his eyebrows raised, and his fingers carefully running down the side of his own jaw.

Oh god, his fingers. There were so many things that you could imagine him doing with those, and from the way he waved them on a greeting, he knew that he teased the thought too.

“Basically...” he began, rolling his grey eyes with what he liked to call modesty, and you classified as boredom, “you’re stuck out in the rain, and if I’m not mistaken, you live halfway across town.”

“Stalker much?” You sneered, crossing your arms across your chest, which only made his gaze wander down, and hold their movements for a dragged out moment. “What are you looking at?” You exasperatedly sighed, only understanding when you followed his peering.

He was focused on your chest, that through your white shirt, appeared almost bare. The lace of your bra was giving him a clear frontal, and so you adjusted your arms, so that they covered more and whatever they had pushed up to peak his intrigue.

“Why am I not surprised?” Shaking your wet hair, which was pointless considering that it was still raining, you realised that you felt the creeping of the cold.

You had been oblivious to it, thinking that it was a side guest to your tears, almost a consequence. But you were no longer tearful, mostly angry at the killer that ruined your future and acted as though it were no big deal.

“I thought you were supposed to be at college.” Kai quirked his brow, proud of the fact that he knew that. However you shook your head, and watched as he removed his jacket, clasping it around your shoulders, shielding you somewhat from the weather.

It appeared as no big deal to him, but it was to you, sociopaths weren’t famous for being kind and charitable. They always had agendas, their agendas, well they were obviously sociopathic.

But from the glazing of the witch’s eyes, you only saw a lost man. He was misinterpreted by all that he knew, they treated him like an outsider, alienated him as though he were a monster, and validly that was why he was seen as one.

“No.” You whispered, confused as to why you were so complied to correct the man. “My boyfriend was killed, I don’t want to go back there, it’s clear why.”

You attempted to give him a small smile, but it came out as a pained grimace. Just the thought had your mood drained, even more so since there was no route to resurrect him.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” He didn’t shiver in the rain, instead he seemed comfortable simply standing there, conversing with you in the rainfall. “Damon did it, right?”

Licking your lips, you hesitantly nodded, ashamed of the fact that you had once called the vampire a friend. From the start, you were always wary of him, but eventually you managed to become close to him. And then he ruined your chance of happiness, literally sucking the life out of it.

“What a dick.” Kai was blunt with his annotation, but you couldn’t deny that he was right about them. “Sorry for your loss and all that blah blah. We should get somewhere warm though, you can tell me more.”

It was a strange feeling, you felt pulled to the male, it was as though he was one side of a magnet, and you were another. And so you accepted his invitation, and followed him, breathing in the scent of his black coat. It was much sweeter than you had expected.

🏹

His so called home was an apartment, that you no doubt expected he had convinced someone with his magic to give him rent free. Or he killed them, either or you guessed.

But the thought of death itself was one that you weren’t too keen on thinking about, not now. Instead, you’d rather enjoy the company of someone that didn’t shame you for hating and desiring to kill the one and only Damon Salvatore.

Most of your friends didn’t take you seriously, they just barked laughter, not believing, nor willing to think that you could ever commit such a sentence. But they didn’t share your pain, if they did, you were sure that they’d understand.

Matt got it, he resented the vampire and a lot of the other blood suckers too. And your certainly couldn’t blame him, he had lost his sister, and there was no reason behind her change. It had all just been a game, a gruesome one at that.

Kai lightly removed his jacket from your shoulders, hanging it on a hook to dry. He almost appeared embarrassed, having you in such a private space.

But you didn’t want him to endure such a mindset as that. Instead you smiled, brushing your damp hair out of your face, grasping his hands. They were cold, and that made you frown. No one ever cared what he had gone through, instead they just wanted to rid the world of him.

Even his family had dismissed him, all because he had been different, and treating him as such had definitely had a mind mingling affect on him. It repented an unstoppable rage inside of him, one that ended in dead children and imprisonment.

“Thankyou.” The small example of affection had Kai tilt his head awkwardly and pull his hands away from your own. He wasn’t used to people even being polite towards him, let alone openly sharing contact with him.

You should have been scared of him. Or at least somewhat repulsed, but you weren’t, and it was a first for him. Most around him taunted him with blame, or pointed out his obvious flaws.

And so he ducked his chin downwards into his chest, taking a couple of steps back, mumbling something about retrieving you a dry shirt.

As you waited for him, you peeled off the sheer layer, dropping the ball of wet material upon the ground. Your bra had soaked into your skin, but you left that on out of modesty.

When Kai returned, his mouth gaped open, eyes widening at the half undressed sight of you. But he tried to avert your gaze, blushing at your lack of attire.

“It’s okay.” You jested to him , reaching out for the clean shirt that he had brought for you. “You can look, it’s not like I’m naked.”

“Yet.” He smirked as he allowed his stare to freely roam. His voice had been small, but you had heard it as clear as day. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be thinking like that, you’re in mourning and I get that you wouldn’t want to, yknow.”

His hand gestured between the pair of you , prompting what he was talking about. But maybe he was wrong, after all, it had been a while since you had any physical intimacy, and you’d be a fool to deny that there was chemistry between you and a particular witch.

“Don’t be sorry.” You put the dry shirt aside, walking closer to the brunette. “I am in mourning, but I’m going to get my revenge, and a distraction sure wouldn’t hurt.”

“And here I thought that you were just a pretty face.” Kai’s hand drifted to the side of your face, pulling you closer so that your lips were almost brushing. His breath ghosted over your own intermingling the fumes of lust and intrigue. “But it seems that there is a darkness in that mind of yours, I’m impressed with your plans to say the least.”

“I haven’t even told you any of them yet.” Your hand drifted under the band of his jeans, plucking teasingly at the denim, licking your teeth as you made strong eye contact with him.

“Tell me after.” He ordered, grasping your hips, and clashing your bodies together. Your lips worked hungrily against each other, both pairs of your hands grabbing all that they could, you and him both desperate to hold onto anything.

Kai shoved you backward into a table, trapping you against it as his lips fell downwards, and began to suck at your neck.

But at that contact, you pushed Kai away, freezing for a moment. Damon’s teeth had been on Aaron’s neck, sinking in and draining all that be worth.

“See Elena thinks I’m a monster, and she’s right.” You were unable to move as Aaron stood against the vampire, you had been compelled, and you wanted nothing more than to scream out for Damon to stop, but there was no audio in your throat.

There was no scream as Damon bared his fangs , nor when he sunk them into your boyfriend’s neck, instead you were holding back your tears, as you had been commanded to.

He held him to his mouth for a moment before dropping his body lifeless upon the ground. And you couldn’t help but stare at the sight.

Enzo wore a content smirk, and it sickened you to your stomach. Damon turned, his thirsty eyes boring into your form, that wanted nothing more than to crumble into a million people.

“You may now speak.” His pupils found yours, engaging with your soul, that felt broken and completely shattered.

“Are you going to kill me too?” A part of you was hopeful that he would, but as he came closer, you recognised the mischief in his stance.

He had plans for you, none of which you suspected to like. “Do it, show Elena how much of a monster you really are!”

If he killed you, you’d have liked to think that Elena would be furious , but it was expected that eventually she would forgive him when he put his humanity back on.

“Or instead...” you feared his humoured expression, eyes flickering between his feet that were walking closer to you and your dead partner that lay lifelessly a couple of meters away. “I could show her how much of a monster you are.”

He bit into his wrist, bringing it towards your mouth, and as much as you felt the urge to squirm, you could do nothing more but stand there and abide his compulsion.

“Are you okay?” Kai asked, brushing his nose against your own, wanting to know if you wanted to continue. He knew that you were a victim of trauma, and he understood it’s affects.

In regards to his past, his coping method had been inflicting it in return. But you had done no foul against him, and so he would not torture you or force you into something that you had no intention of continuing.

“Yeah.” You breathed, blinking to push the memory away, temporarily at least. “Bedroom.” You ushered, squealing distractedly as he hoisted you into his arms, wrapping your legs perfectly around his waist.

He dropped you upon the mattress, hovering over you, removing his shirt after you began to tug on the dark and rain pelted material.

Leaning your elbows, you unclipped the back of your bra, discarding it somewhere far from your memory, and Kai sunk down, his lips latching onto your nipple, playing with the other in his rough hands.

“Your fucking gorgeous.” He hummed around your breast, his fingers drifting down your stomach to the band of your leggings.

His compliment made you smile, and as he ripped off your pants, he slipped a hand inside of your panties, rubbing your sensitive flesh. But you groaned, frowning at his tantalising actions.

“Just need you inside of me.” You told him, and he was more than happy to comply, so he worked on his belt, as you slipped off your own underwear, and removed the torn fabric from around your legs.

When you looked up, you noticed that he was completely bare, and already had himself in hand. There was precum balancing on his tip and at the sight you licked your lips.

“You ready?” He asked bringing his head down to your chin, placing a delicate kiss upon the bump, and teasing his other tip against your opening, swiping through your wetness and using it to lube himself up.

“God yes.” You sighed, your hands finding refuge upon the back of his shoulders, your nails sinking into his firm skin.

And so, with consent, he pushed in, groaning at the initial tightness. “And I thought that it was wet outside.” He laughed, causing you to snort, he was funnier than you had expected him to be.

It almost made you swoon, but no, you couldn’t be interested in Kai, could you? Everyone thought you had been, even Bonnie had stated that you often undressed him with your eyes in the worst of situations, but it had never been a big deal to you.

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks, with a snap of Kai’s hips. All along you had denied any interest of another man, all because of the one that you had lost. And everyone already knew that there were sparks between you and the witch, before either of you had caught on.

“Shit.” He huffed, reaching down and biting your lips, causing your eyes to flutter sensuously, and dark veins to appear underneath.

At the feeling, you tried to bury your face sidewards into the pillow so that he couldn’t see, but he held you still as he gave shallow thrusts inside of you.

“Don’t look away, I think you’re beautiful.” Him saying that alone had you almost in tears. Despite trying to bring Aaron back you feared what he would think of you when he returned, or well, if he could.

Would he think you a monster, that stood idly by when he was killed? Because if so, you’re heart would literally break, and you wouldn’t be able to bare living any longer.

Living, funny. You hardly described what you were doing as such anyways. But currently, you did truly feel alive again, perhaps that was just the affect of having a dick inside of you.

But as Kai reached down and fiddled with your clit, you knew that you were done for. Your head fell back, eyes closed and mouth open, showcasing your fangs, your orgasm hitting you like a train.

He continued his movements until he felt he was nearing his point, and then he finished too, having no worry in impregnating you as you were well, to put it lightly , dead.

Both of you panted as he pulled out and fell beside you. Your eyes stared at the ceiling, your concentration eventually broken when Kai spoke.

“Damon did it, didn’t he? He turned you.” Your face had returned to its previous disguise, you looked human once more. But it was no secret that you were now a savage, a monster like Damon.

“Yeah.” You bit your lip, trying not to cry at the thought. It was the last thing in the world that you ever wanted, but Damon knew that too. And so he had cursed you, for all of eternity.

“Then he deserves to die.” Kai stated, he was already against the Salvatores, but his hatred for them had just increased.

[kitsu-katsu]

Why c!Wilbur blowing stuff up for shits and giggles as a child makes no sense for his character (and why that would reflect a lot more badly on c!Phil anyways if that were the case):

Warning: c!Phil critical ahead, if you don't like that, skip this post

Now, to those of you that decide to read this: Strap in folks! We've got a lot of ground to cover this from and a ton of quotes ahead!

1) Wilbur’s a pacifist through and through. He always preached words over weapons, only fought when attacked first, wanted to ignore a war until it went away, considered giving up his nation many times, etc. A few examples of quotes to show this thinking:

“Basically, we have such a lower opportunity here that we probably just need to accept the conditions of surrender, just so we can save any more bloodshed, any more destruction on our land. They’ve entrapped our land, they’ve set up bombs on our land, they’ve destroyed all our homes. To stop any more bloodshed, I feel I would be a bad general if I didn’t look for conditions of surrender.” - (Wilbur’s The Revolution is Coming: 30:32, 2nd Aug)

“Tommy, we need you alive. Tommy, this isn’t worth it. Tommy, your life is worth more than the revolution.” - (Wilbur’s The Revolution is Coming: 34:57:, 2nd Aug)

“What has made you do everything you’ve done up to this point?” (Quackity)

“That’s a- That’s a big question. Um. I guess it’s just protection for my people. I mean, I- I- I just want to see them thrive, and I want to see them safe.” (Alivebur)

- (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:03:02, 12th Apr)

“Look, do you know how long and how much blood was shed to get L’Manberg to the point it was at? You know what would happen if we manage to get L’Manberg back again? More blood would be shed, and we would be the illegitimate rulers of a nation.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 18:52)

“We don’t win wars with battles and with armour. We win wars with our words, Tommy. We’re starting a revolution, not a war.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 4:54, 29th July)

“I’m not a fighter, I’m a writer.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 1:48:31, 29th July)

“Fighting is not necessary right now, Tommy.” - (Wilbur’s the election results: 43:42, 22nd Sep)

“Tommy, control yourself. Tommy, control yourself, it’s not worth it. Tommy, do not take your shot! He disrespected me, yes! But we’ve talked about this, Tommy…!” - (Wilbur’s techno and wilbur make cave better: 59:36, 23rd Sep)

2) The reason his thoughts about blowing it all up in Pogtopia even hit as hard, the reason all his allies were so shocked about him going through with it IS his pacifism first mindset (which has only been put second when he’s been attacked first and put in the defensive or in the case of his speech to Quackity after the political debate he genuinely thought, by the previous failure of his philosophy and the war trauma spurred on mainly by the FCR and Eret’s betrayal, that the only way to truly win respect and make a change in the world was through fighting and killing, which he was convinced of but was ultimately always too soft to actually go through with (note how he doesn’t kill anyone in the L’manburg explosion and how in the times during Pogtopia in which he declared he wanted people dead, he got second thoughts, regrets, retracted his statement or protected people with his actions):

“If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity. You can make a movement, you can make a resistance, right, you can go out and you can come back, and they’ll give you a ticker tape parade. They’ll cheer for you in the streets, but you will change nothing.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:42, 12th Apr)

“If you have a revolution, everyone will hate you, you will sacrifice everything, and you will lose everything you’ve ever had, but you’ll come back and everything will be changed.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:59, 12th Apr)

“And power isn’t gaining from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky, blah blah blah. It’s gained from swords, Quackity. It’s gained from blades, it’s gained from steel, iron.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:06:19, 12th Apr)

“We blow up the entire fucking place to kingdom come. I want no survivors. God help whoever’s caught in the fucking crossfire.” - (Wilbur’s video, Am I The Villain?: 17:52)

“And, I know you’re scared, Tommy, I understand you’re scared. And it’s scary, it’s scary, Tommy, but do you know what? You know what? In a time like this, when a man has nothing to lose, do you know what that means? It means we can do what we want. We have a man on our side who literally rigged our nation with TNT. We can do the same to them. We can rig this festival with TNT. We can kill them all, Tommy. ” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:15:52, 8th Oct)

“Anyone caught in the crossfire is caught in the crossfire. That’s how it goes, you know? - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:41:22, 8th Oct)

“Chat, do I wanna- Chat, do I wanna, do I wanna do it? I’m having second thoughts about the TNT. Chat, I’m having second thoughts about the TNT. Do I wanna kill these people? Seeing that they’re my friends.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 34:09, 16th Oct)

“Tommy, I’m getting second thoughts. These are my friends, I don’t- Do I- I don’t know if I wanna [inaudible].” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 36:17, 16th Oct)

“Just, if you’re gonna kill anyone else, kill me. Don’t kill anyone else here.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:10:53, 16th Oct)

“You sounded like you were gonna murder another person. You sounded like you were gonna go for Niki.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:12:34, 16th Oct)

“Oh, yes, sorry, Niki, you missed that part. I was gonna blow up Manberg, I was gonna completely destroy it in a huge fireball. Look, Niki, come to Pogtopia, you’re safer here. You’re not gonna be hurt by anyone.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:17:59, 16th Oct)

“No you two can escape, I’ll be the… I’ll- I’ll- I’ll be… I’ll be trapped in here…” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:27, 17th Oct)

“I don’t, I don’t, I don’t want to kill you two. I don’t want you two to die.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:53, 17th Oct)

3) He was inspired by Dream blowing up L’manburg first with Eret’s betrayal during the first revolution. He knew Dream wanted L’manburg out of the picture and had tried it before. It’s why he knew to immediately ask him for TNT, because either way, Dream would benefit from both side’s mutually assured destruction:

“Here’s the plan, right, Dream. Dream is on our side, Dream has TNT, Dream has everything, right. I say we talk to Dream, and we ask him very nicely, very kindly, ‘Dream, give us all the TNT you have’. ” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:12:22, 8th Oct)

“Remember, how he rigged L’Manberg, like ages ago, during the War? And then he detonated the TNT and destroyed the entire thing? We do that again, everyone, we blow up the entire fucking place to kingdom come.” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:12:36, 8th Oct)

“The only reason that Dream is working with us, is because of the fact that we are the enemies of his enemies! That’s it! That’s all that joins this!” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:14:35, 8th Oct)

“Dream, let me be your vassal. Dream, I understand you have a lot of TNT, a lot of the ol’ trinitrotoluene in your possession, don’t you? You do! Dream, I want to be your vassal, I want to set this up, I want to rig the city.” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:33:27, 8th Oct)

4) Wilbur hesitated a LOT with the detonation, wanted to be stopped, told people his plan in detail and was overall in a deep internal conflict about the whole thing (and didn’t blow it up once to not kill Tommy and Quackity too, this is also the moment in which his suicidal tendencies are the most clear in his lines before the 16th). Ultimately he decided to do it because he was suicidal and deeply suffering from mental health issues, believed himself to be the root of all bad in the server and by extension, L’manburg was too, and by that point his original view for L’manburg had been so twisted by Schlatt anyway that in his POV it’d only be used to hurt more people anyway:

“I- Look, rigging L’Manberg is not gonna help us get it back, I’m aware of that. But sometimes in order to feel comfortable and safe you have to be ready to give up the things that you’re worried you might lose. And in this case, I think I might lose it already.” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:17:57, 8th Oct)

“I know there’s a lot of people, Tommy! … I’m not telling you where the button is, man. … Tommy, it’s over that hill, it’s over that hill, right there!” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 28:30, 16th Oct)

“Chat, do I wanna- Chat, do I wanna, do I wanna do it? I’m having second thoughts about the TNT. Chat, I’m having second thoughts about the TNT. Do I wanna kill these people? Seeing that they’re my friends.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 34:09, 16th Oct)

“Tommy, I’m getting second thoughts. These are my friends, I don’t- Do I- I don’t know if I wanna [inaudible].” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 36:17, 16th Oct)

“But this is the opportunity- this is the opportunity. If I don’t blow it up now, when am I gonna blow it up?! When am I gonna blow it up, Tommy? But when do- when do we do-” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 36:30, 16th Oct)

“If I don’t do it now, what happens if this is the only chance I get. Everyone’s in this close situation, I can do some proper damage. Look, this isn’t a- He needs a consequence for his actions, Schlatt does, he can’t just keep being handsome and powerful and strong all the time. He needs, he needs to be put down a peg.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 37:07, 16th Oct)

“I can still call off this whole detonating at the end of the speech, dude. I can call it off.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 38:24, 16th Oct)

“Should I show you where the TNT’s laced? ‘Cause in a, in a last ditch effort, we may need to destroy it by hand, okay? So, under the chair, where Schlatt sits, there’s about twenty pieces, right? And then going under, under the main area here, following this red line, there is TNT all the way, and then it jut- and then it- … It darts up here, and over to the dance floor, but it doesn’t touch the water.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 38:29, 16th Oct)

“I have to light it, I’ve got to light it, I’ve got to light it.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:08:17, 16th Oct)

“Yesterday I had the perfect opportunity to blow everything up and finally end it, you know. I had the perfect opportunity to finally blow up everything and end it and just completely save everyone, right, from the tyranny of Schlatt and the tyranny of the existence of Manberg and L’Manberg, right.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 25:17, 17th Oct)

“Explain it to me! Give me a reason! Give me a reason!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:50, 17th Oct)

“Who else is it gonna hurt?! It’s gonna hurt Schlatt, Manberg, and-” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:55, 17th Oct)

“Why did I bring- I should have just done it. I’m such a fucking showman. I should have just done it.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:18, 17th Oct)

“No you two can escape, I’ll be the… I’ll- I’ll- I’ll be… I’ll be trapped in here…” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:27, 17th Oct)

“I just- I just want to f… I just wanna end it, I wanna end it. I wanna press that button, man.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:08, 17th Oct)

“I don’t, I don’t, I don’t want to kill you two. I don’t want you two to die.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:53, 17th Oct)

“Ohh, fuck you! Fuck you, man! Why do you make it so hard?! I should have just- I’m such a fucking showman.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 29:29, 17th Oct)

“Tommy, we’ve tried my ideas. I’m willing to listen to you. I’m gonna follow you, Tommy. Whatever you think is gonna be the best way of taking down Schlatt, we’ll do it. We’ve tried my ideas.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 32:01, 17th Oct)

“My L’Manberg. My L’Manberg. As long- As long as I know the button is here… as long as I know. As long as I know the button is here. It’s just not today. I just need to know that it’s there for a fall-back. I need to know it’s there.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 33:46, 17th Oct)

“I’ve been hasty. But the fact that I know it’s there, and I can just stroke my right mouse button, that’s all I need. As long as I know it’s there.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 34:27, 17th Oct)

“You’ve convinced me, I don’t wanna go straight to Plan B, if Plan A fails.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 39:02, 17th Oct)

“Look, Tommy, at the end of the day, if this doesn’t go well, I’m gonna blow the place to smithereens. The place will be gone, I’m gonna detonate it and blow it to smithereens, right, if this doesn’t go well. But it will go well…! … ‘Cause it’s literally- there’s no one on Schlatt’s side.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 21:00, 16th Nov)

“But none of them have the same anticipatory love of what they’re doing, unlike us. Everyone on our side is fighting for something we’ve loved, and had for ages, right. That’s why we’re gonna win, and that’s why you shouldn’t be afraid. And yes, the whole place is rigged.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 21:38, 16th Nov)

“I could, I really could, that’s the thing. That’s the bit that I like. It’s the bit that makes me smile the most is the fact that I definitely could.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 26:28, 16th Nov)

“Chekhov’s Gun. Chekhov’s Gun. I’ll be honest with you, chat, I’ve been wondering this whole time if it still works. I’ve been thinking to myself does it still- ‘Cause I fixed it up for today.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:11:36, 16th Nov)

“Phil, I’m always so close to pressing this button, Phil! I have been here, like seven or eight times I have been here… Seven or eight times” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:14:56, 16th Nov)

“Phil, I’ve been here here so many times.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:15:13, 16th Nov)

“I don’t even know if it works anymore, Phil. I don’t even know if the button works. I could, I could… press it, and it might-” (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:15:29, 16th Nov)

5) The one time anything about Wilbur using TNT while young (and here the age isn't as clearly implied as in Phil's thing, this could very well be more of teen Wilbur than kid Wilbur) is mentioned in the actual text is this one maybe-canon-maybe-not-so-canon-anymore line:

“Tommy, have you heard of TNT duplication? The flying machines that dup TNT? Phil taught me about them. He taught me about them- I’m sure he wouldn’t have taught me them if he knew what I was gonna do with them. But, he did teach me about them. … They were very useful, in this.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 11:30, 16th Oct)

Now let’s pretend that headcanon makes any sense and that yeah, Wilbur totally just enjoyed building shit to detonate and said tendency encouraged in childhood just up and carried into adulthood and manifested as him internally going “I must blow up this thing I made because that’s what I do” and let’s pretend that he didn’t have a big ass internal conflict about it.

Ok, so Phil said that Wilbur blew stuff up when little, so he’d have connected it to the button room. Now think for a moment: How does that reflect on Phil as a parent? Let’s forget about everything else for this one moment (and believe me, I’ve got no shortage of stuff to critique c!Phil on in regards to his relation with c!Wilbur) and just focus on this one action. A man freely lets his son use TNT to blow up some random stuff presumably made out of toys. Just a little kid playing with TNT, yup, that’s his boy. And it was to such a degree that the same man just went “Oh yeah! It’s totally the blowing shit up thing!” in a fraction of a second after seeing the button… And then yeah, saw all of the hesitation, the breakdown, the struggle, the wishes to die and impaled him with a sword, but we can go deeper into those aspects in another post

Then Phil tried to make it better by saying to chat that all kids just break stuff apart, more implying that little Wilbur wasn’t actually using explosives which… makes the whole thing even dumber, ngl, because at that point c!Phil is just saying “Oh yeah, he knocked over his lego houses when he was four, so when I saw that button I immediately went ‘Oh, of course! He rigged the place! What an obvious connection!’”. You see what I’m getting at?

TLDR: It doesn’t fit with canon and even if we shove it in with its implications, then c!Phil is just an idiot, whether it be from letting his kid freely play with TNT to such a degree that he deduces where his most drastic measure resulting from trauma and breakdowns is going just by seeing the button OR whether it be from him connecting dots where there are none if he tries to save his skin as a father and just say “Oh yeah, no, who didn’t knock over stuff as a kid, what do you mean?” not realizing that… exactly… who didn’t…. so it wouldn’t connect with the button room at all

[tsarisfanfiction]

Grief’s Chill

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Will Solace, Apollo

His children run hot, as befits children of the sun.  Will was cold.

Day eighteen of TOApril organised by @ferodactyl, “Keeping You Warm”.  This one was a little hard to do and I rewrote it a couple of times before I was happy, but I like the way it turned out in the end!  Some referenced canonical deaths in here.

There’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!

Dropping in on his children’s dreams wasn’t quite as satisfying as seeing them while they were awake, but it was far more reliable and less likely to provoke any stray lightning strikes.  Apollo didn’t do it every night, or even once a week, mostly because his father would notice and say something about the Ancient Laws, blah blah blah, and some lightning would almost certainly make an appearance to prove a rather painful point, but he did it as frequently as he was sure he could get away with (he wasn’t taking risks, not with his kids the first targets in the firing line). He was well aware that his kids deserved better, but they also deserved to not be blasted by lightning because their godly grandfather was paranoid and trigger-happy.

When he made contact with Will’s sleeping mind, he was immediately assaulted by a nightmare.  It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and Apollo had witnessed this particular one in various iterations several times before.

It was no less painful this time around.

Apollo hadn’t seen the events of Williamsburg Bridge himself.  He’d been caught up in battling Typhon alongside the other gods – a battle they’d been losing until Poseidon finally came to help them out – and there had been no room, no time, to glance back at Manhattan, at the demigods he had only been very vaguely aware were fighting to defend Olympus from the Crooked One and keep track of what was going on.  He hadn’t even known until it was over and he saw all the golden shrouds how many of his children had died.  Some of them didn’t even have bodies and he’d been forced to work out who was gone by searching for the living until the shrouds and survivors added up to the number he’d known had been alive before Typhon.

He'd since learnt, in excruciating detail, what had happened to all of them through the nightmares of his children.  The way hellhounds had dragged Nathan away and torn him to shreds, the way Michael had stood strong on the bridge as it broke and never even tried to run.

The way none of them had ever stood a chance when Kronos himself bore down on them.  Apollo couldn’t be angry at Percy for Michael’s death, not when Michael had chosen to die to protect the rest, not when the bridge’s destruction had saved the lives of Will, Alice, Sam, Austin and Kayla, none of whom would have survived had Kronos made it across while they were there, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be anguished about it regardless.

Will didn’t deserve to have the memories assaulting him as nightmares.  None of his children did, and Apollo had no wish to watch it through again, to see the way the water stole Michael from the world of the living scant moments before the sun rose, to see the mocking salute Kronos sent – at Percy, yes, but Apollo didn’t doubt it wasn’t also aimed at the gods, at him, taunting you chose this when you chose to oppose me.

He pulled Will out from that scene, from the sunrise dyed in blood and death, and shifted the dreamscape until the two of them were sitting side by side in a sunflower field, the sun at its zenith and not a cloud to mar its light.  No storms, no blood, no water and shaking ground.  Just flowers, showing their faces to the sun and hiding the two of them from the rest of the world.

Then he waited.

Pulling his children out of nightmares didn’t automatically make them happier.  Sometimes they needed time to adjust, time to cry and break down, time to package their grief back up in the boxes they tried to store it in (Apollo could relate).  Will was often one of the faster ones to adjust, stuffing everything away in that little box Apollo could almost see it happening as his face shifted from blank to shining brightly in the blink of an eye.

But not always, and Apollo had been working on that (although he could hardly take the credit for it when he knew Nico was a far greater influence on getting Will to sometimes, sometimes, put himself first) but that didn’t make it any easier when instead of a bright smile he got a broken sob and a weight against his shoulder. It was a bittersweet victory, the price of parenting where having his son comfortable in his presence meant that he also got to see the pain behind the mask that tore at his heart.

Apollo was a healer. He hated seeing people in pain, especially people dear to him.  There were very, very few people more dear to him than his own children.

He couldn’t heal grief.

All he could do was offer comfort, put an arm around his son’s shoulders – not quite shaking, but they were trembling minutely – and pull Will in close.

For mortals, his children ran hotter than most.  It was the principle of the thing, really – they were children of the sun, the sun invigorated them, their mortal heritage had to create some leeway for their godly heritage and that was the compromise.

Under his arm, safely tucked away from the rest of the world like the child he was supposed to be despite everything he’d been through, Will was cold.  The first time that had happened, Apollo had panicked.  Cold meant ill, meant dying, and it was certainly possible to die of a broken heart (for a mortal, that was.  Gods had too much immortality in them for that and Apollo wasn’t sure, sometimes, if that was a blessing or a curse).  If Will was cold…  He’d been terrified.

Now, though, he was unhappily used to it.  Normally, Will ran just as hot as the rest of his children, sometimes a little hotter. It was only after these dreams, dreams of death in the night, that his dream manifestation took on temperatures more suited for his boyfriend.  Death was cold, even a summer night was cold – especially for a boy used to Texan summers – and it was a symbolic reflection of the grief Will kept locked away tightly during his waking hours.

So Apollo didn’t frantically appear in his cabin, checking Will’s physical health and embarrassing his son when he woke up perfectly healthy in the middle of the night with his groggy siblings peering out of their bunks to see what the fuss was all about. Instead, he willed a blanket into existence, thick and white (not gold, gold was too much like the shrouds for all the differences in material and weight), and wrapped it around the both of them.

Technically, Apollo didn’t need the blanket himself, but wrapping it around just Will meant putting a layer, a barrier, between his arm and his son, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that.  This way, it was the two of them, together, the way Apollo wished he could do more often, curled up in the heat of the blazing sun.  It certainly didn’t hurt that this way Apollo could share his own warmth most effectively, heating up the interior of their blanket cocoon and feeling Will’s shivers subside agonisingly slowly.

Will didn’t pull away. He used to, when rational thought chased the last of the grief into its little box and did its best to shut the lid and he realised Apollo was really there, not just a figment of the dream (even if he technically was, because dreams were just like that), but Apollo gave no indication that the hug time was over (if Apollo had his way, hug time would never be over) and Will had slowly learnt that he was allowed – encouraged – to stay put.

“Hi, Dad,” he said eventually, not moving his head from where it was pillowed on Apollo’s shoulder. That was new – Will had always lifted his head before now – but Apollo wasn’t complaining in the slightest.  “Did you want something?”

That was not new. Will always asked, possibly because he was used to Apollo’s visits being deliveries of some sort – new poetry, messages, warnings.  Apollo was working on that, working on dropping in without another reason, but it scared him because if he didn’t have a reason, it was flirting very closely with the Ancient Laws and if his father-

“Nothing important,” he hedged, because he didn’t have one but he didn’t want to admit it in case his father somehow heard him.  “It can wait.”  Will twitched, and Apollo held him tighter, trying to say with his actions what he couldn’t risk saying with his words.  I just wanted to see you.

“If you’re sure,” Will replied, sinking back against Apollo’s side.  He sounded a little dubious, but Apollo hoped he wasn’t imagining the relief in there, too.

“I’m sure,” he assured him confidently, before switching track so the conversation went happier places. “So what’s the latest gossip from Camp? Any interesting stories to share?”

To his delight, Will had several and no hesitation about sharing.

[oldtowrs]

˗ˏˋ LOVELY PRESENCE; obi-wan kenobi x handmaiden!reader

SUMMARY - the reader, a handmaiden and obi-wan’s love, visits the jedi temple to spend a last evening together before obi-wan is sent on a mission to corellia, and finds him in the middle of training. needless to say, obi-wan throws caution to the wind and shameless fluff ensues

WORD COUNT - ~4.3k

A/N - ayyy... its more of my golden boy, haha. i don’t know what you all expected really. this is really just shameless fluff for fluff’s sake. i hope you all enjoy. and please i don’t want to get any comments saying ‘they could’ve gotten caught, blah blah.’ yes i know, that’s the point. i said shameless fluff did i not? small font and no caps is intentional. and for the story’s sake, just pretend that no one saw obi-wan and the reader, okay? okay. also i’m going to tag @obaewankenobis and @karasong / @hellotherekenobi bc they liked the excerpt i posted from this piece. here’s the full thing enjoy :)

WARNINGS - obi-wan in a tank top. i said what i said. 

coruscant shone golden in the last rays of the setting afternoon sun. the buildings, huge pillars of metal and glass, reflected the golden light every which way, illuminating the many hovercraft that flew through the coruscanti airspace, looking like little trails of stardust in the sky. the sky, with its painted gradient of vibrant hues, and clouds which interrupted the color in such elegant ways, acted as a beautiful backdrop for the gleaming city.

as padme’s advisor and handmaiden, you had seen many beautiful sunsets and sunrises, the sun rising from or melting into one of the many beautiful lakes of naboo. but none of them could’ve paralleled the gleaming grandeur of coruscant, the seat of power of the republic, in her final golden hour.

but even as you admired the beauty of the city-planet, you knew there was a beauty more divine than that of naboo and of coruscant and of the whole inner rim combined: and he was standing before you in the gardens of the jedi temple,wielding his lightsaber in preparation for the mission he was to depart on come morning. his auburn hair fell into his slightly freckled face, into his beautiful blue eyes that shone like a thousand stars, as he moved. his jedi robes had been laid upon a stone bench, discarded in the heat of training, leaving him in nothing but his dark trousers tucked into his leather boots, and a black, sleeveless undershirt. the shirt revealed his freckled shoulders and muscular arms as he swung his saber in arcs about him, and the sun seemed to both seep into his skin like honey and glow upon touching the lovely freckles surface. every part of him was awash in gold as the sun kissed his skin and danced about his beard and hair, turning the auburn strands into warm, roughspun gold.

he was beautiful in all that he was, strong and dedicated and driven by peace and focus, as a high ranking jedi master and general should be. he was a honeyed, shining golden in the brilliant sun. and he was all yours.

obi-wan.

then, in a moment he had turned to face you, his lightsaber spinning in a wide, elegant arc until the hilt came to a halt by his head, the end of the saber outstretched, opposing hand pointing directly at you. those beautiful blue eyes that you so dearly loved seemed to shine with the light of a thousand stars as his gaze met yours. a smile immediately lifted the corners of his lips. he hurriedly began to make his way towards you, dropping the saber to his side, the blade withdrawing into nothingness as he forged his way through the gardens.

‘darling!’

the endearment was almost a sigh of relief, of comfortability, as it passed his sweet lips and graced your ears with its soft tenor and lilt of his elegant coruscanti accent.

he clipped his lightsaber to the leather utility belt about his hips, before taking your face in his hands and placing his lips gently on yours. his thumbs traced delicate circles on your cheeks, and you felt him smile into the kiss as your heated blush rose to meet his touch. he smelled of his soaps and colognes, of his soft linens, of the garden, of him, of home and you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss happily.

panic filled your heart as you suddenly pulled away from him, hands delicately wrapping around his forearms, as you tried reluctantly to pull out of the kiss that had you falling faster and faster into his lovely orbit.

‘obi-wan! someone might see!’

obi-wan's eyes turned soft, the stars in his eyes dimming only so his love could shine through. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, and while you were still worried about being caught kissing a jedi, risking everything obi-wan had ever known, you couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, into his touch. your hands, significantly smaller and more delicate than his, slid gently up his bare arms to cover his as they continued to caress circles upon circles of his love into your skin.

‘don’t worry, sweetling,’ he murmured, the words gentle against your forehead as they graced the space-though it was limited-between you two. ‘there’s no presence but yours for at least the next several hundred yards.’

it was true. what with the galactic war, the jedi order had been spread thin. even the jedi council hadn’t had a meeting at which all members were present for months; or at least that was what obi-wan told you in the quiet hours of the night in which he returned, from long days of maintaining the order of the galaxy, to his chambers-to the image of you tucked delicately beneath his linens or your silks. those were the hours before his words turned sugary sweet and more intimate and began to accompany a plethora of gentle kisses.

obi-wan, being the powerful jedi he was, would be able to sense the presence of another being as they moved through the force; and if he was comfortable enough to bring you close and pepper your face with butterfly-like kisses, then you supposed you could allow yourself to relax into his touch.

‘and as lovely as your presence is, darling,’ obi-wan began, his callouses gentle against your skin as he moved to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. ‘whatever are you doing at the jedi temple?’

‘i was sent on official business by senator amidala,’ you said, raising your chin into the air haughtily, a note of pride taking hold in your voice.

‘and what might your business be, my lady,’ obi-wan said, drawing ever near as his hands drifted down your arms and the elegant silks sleeves of your dress until his fingers found and wove themselves between yours. his thumbs continued their circular escapades on the surface of your skin-which you now realized was growing just as honeyed as his in the afternoon light.

you’ve bewitched me, master kenobi.

‘to admire and oversee the activities of a certain jedi master who’s lovely presence i will miss dearly after he leaves my side to go hunt down clues of the sith and of battleships and criminals on somefar off planet,’ you said, admiring the way the deepening wrinkles at his eyes gathered beautifully as a smile grew upon his lips-those soft, pillowy lips that you could drown in forever.

‘admiring a jedi?’ obi-wan laughed heartily, the sound of it rich and loving against your ears. ‘on such sacred grounds as these? you must have some courage, darling.’

‘if i remember correctly, master kenobi,’ you hummed happily, his title and reputation falling sweet like rose petals from your lips, ‘it was you who just kissed me on such ‘sacred grounds.’’

and there he was, again, leaning in close, slanting his lips against yours as though it would be the last time he would get the chance to kiss you, to take your breath away with such a simple action, to make your heart melt beneath his gentle touch--like he needed the constant reassurance of your kiss to weather the cruelties of a galaxy at war. and when he pulled away, absolute adoration lingered there in his baby blue eyes, as though stars had imploded along the lines of your lips as he kissed you, and their stardust had collected in his shining blue irises so that they may always remember your beauty and the stars that danced about your skin like little shadows.

‘my stars, darling,’ he sighed, ‘i would kiss you for eternity if it meant the first thing i would see when my lips parted forms yours was the sweet beauty of your face. i would kiss you for an eternity and longer if it meant i got to be in your lovely presence for always and forever.’

‘obi-wan, love, you’re making it really hard not to dread your departure already,’ you sighed, pouting ever so slightly in the way that you knew would pull at obi-wan’s heartstrings.

‘don’t worry, little one. i’ll come back to you, whole and in need of your sweet kisses,’ obi-wan hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. ‘and it just so happens that i have been relieved of my duties for tonight to ready myself for the mission.’

‘and what might that preparation include, master kenobi,’ you asked teasingly, and watching him preen under your endearment. his station was something to be proud of, to have worked so hard, to have come from nothing and to now be a jedi master and general, and the best negotiator and diplomat the order had. he embodied all the code stood for: compassion, patience, discipline. and you knew that deep down, somewhere, hidden away with his immense love for you was a mild sense of pride at all he accomplished-though he would never let it show.

‘i was thinking of spending my time with a handmaiden i rather enjoy the presence of--a handmaiden i have formed quite the attachment to.’

‘she must be a very lucky woman then, to have the affections of someone as accomplished and as endearing as you.’

‘oh, but i am the luckiest man in the galaxy to love her and call her mine.’

your heart swelled at his words. his?

obi-wan leaned down to kiss you once more, this time his hands finding purchase in the cotton and silk that made up the back of your dress, splaying themselves about your back as though he were cradling you ever closer to his chest in an almost protective manner.

‘yes, darling.’ he managed in between the soft pillowy kisses he pressed to your lips, the tip of your nose, your cheeks and forehead, any part of you he could reach with those wonderful lips of his. ‘all mine.’

your hands rested against his chest, the thin material of his undershirt allowing you to feel the muscle which rippled beneath his beautifully freckled skin from years dedicated to his training and to the order. the fabric was soft as your fingers trailed down his chest, to his hips where the cool metal of his saber kissed your fingers.

‘teach me,’ you murmured, lips brushing against obi-wan’s as the words left your lips. confusion drew his eyebrows together, a small crease forming between them in a way you couldn’t help but adore.

‘teach you what, sweetling?’ he asked, voice velvety and soft against your ears.

‘teach me how to use a lightsaber.’

a smile took over those soft lips you so dearly loved, and a laugh erupted in the evening air. he was beautiful when he laughed, color painting his cheeks and his hair falling out of his face as he leaned his head back in his laughter. you would’ve admired the lovely sound and the way his eyes wrinkled at the corners had your words not been cause for it.

‘why are you laughing at me? i’ve fought to protect senator amidala on many occasions with both a blaster and vibroblades. why not a lightsaber? or did you forget i’ve been trained in close combat as well, master kenobi.’

‘i never said no, darling,’ obi-wan sighed, coming down from his laughter to press a gentle hand to your cheek, thumb tracing circles into your skin. ‘however, the thought of you with such civilized technology is quite a fearsome one indeed.’

‘please, obi-wan?’

obi-wan’s gaze softened, knowing in his heart that you meant too much to him to deny you any one of your many requests.

‘i suppose,’ he sighed, worry mingling with the warmth in his crystal blue gaze, as he begged of you, ‘just promise me you’ll be careful. i hate to even think about harm coming to you, much less see you harmed by my weapon and under my supervision.’

‘i promise.’

its then that his fingers find the palm of your hand, guiding it into his strong, calloused, yet gentle grasp, as he pulls you from the sanctuary of the temple and into the wild delicacy of the gardens. a soft click sounds and the cool metal of obi-wan’s saber kisses the tips of your fingers as he pulls you close and presses the saber into your delicate hands. he wraps your fingers around the hilt, and raises your hand to kiss your knuckles, his beard tickling the skin there.

‘this weapon is dangerous as it is beautiful, darling. do you understand?’

‘yes, my love.’

he pulls you into the clearing in the center of the gardens, stone tiles sturdy beneath your feet. soon his figure is wrapped around your, your back pressed firmly against the strong musculature of his chest as his strong, star-freckled arms wrap around your own, guiding your hands and body into a stance he deemed worthy of training in.

‘you must always be aware of your body in position to your saber,’ he explained, his voice low in its velvety depth as he buried his lips in your hair, the top of your head grazing his delicate cheekbones. ‘you must always be aware and precise in your movements. one wrong move could prove fatal.’

as much as you wanted to focus on his words, his close proximity was very distracting. the heady, musk of him overwhelmed your sense in the most pleasantly soft manner, and the delicate brush of his skin against yours was enough to set your nerves alight in blissful agony. you wanted to melt into him, to meld into the softness of his heart, the warmth of his being and voice. there was so much of him that you loved, and it was just so close… he was just so close.

‘focus your thoughts, darling,’ he chuckled sweetly, the deep tenor of his voice rumbling softly in his chest as he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, into the softness of your hair.

‘sorry,’ you said sheepishly. sometimes you forgot just how strong his connection with the force was, and how he could read you like an open book. of course, you’d given him permission to do so--convincing him that you were okay with having his loving presence in your consciousness, that it wasn’t an invasion of your privacy. you had had to convince him that having his warmth in the corners of your mind was one of the most comforting feelings you’d ever known, that is wasn’t a burden or an overreach or a breach of your trust.

‘it’s okay, sweet one,’ he hums sweetly. ‘just focus on my movements.’

his hands wrapped around yours, pressing them into the hilt as he tilted the end of it away from you. blue light filled your field of vision as he ignited it.

‘this is called a low guard. it's a good place to start dueling, as you can move any which way from this position’ obi-wan explained, the passion for his practice and the dedication to his order seeping into the softness of his voice, turning the tone sweeter than honey. ‘focus on fluidity, and precision, darling. yes, perfect. now bring it down to your side, and up in an arc.’

obi-wan’s praise was enough to send your head spinning, and your heart reeling with contentment. there was nowhere else in the whole galaxy you wanted to be than in obi-wan kenobi’s arms, the callousness and softness of his hands pressed firmly into your own as he guided your hand down into a steep arc before bringing it down to the opposite side. his arm crossed over your body in a way that was reminiscent of the way he would wrap his arms languidly about your waist so as to hug you in the way he loved to in the early hours of the morning in which the two of you woke in the others chambers as the sun’s rays just began to kiss the clouds high above. your heart fluttered like a thousand butterflies pushing against the limits of your lungs in a campaign for freedom-a freedom to press your face into his chest, to give him a kiss for every star-freckled blemish upon his skin.

‘and that would be a basic defensive maneuver,’ he hummed, interrupting your wandering thoughts before guiding you through the motion a couple times to work it into your muscle memory. his tutelage continued on like this until the sky was only lit by the last remnants of the sunset.

‘let me try,’ you whispered into the small space between you. he let go, his skin leaving its precious contact with yours as your nerves almost screamed for him to come back.

you tried some of the maneuvers on your own, getting a feeling for the balance of the elegant weapon in your own hands. it was similar to its dagger analog, a defensive art you had learned upon padme’s admission into the senate. a smirk pulled at the side of your lips as an idea formed in your mind. just beware of the blade, obi wasn’t voice echoed in your memory.

quickly, you began the maneuver, turning around and wielding the blade in a flourishing so that it came to rest by your head in the way obi-wan had done upon your arrival to the jedi gardens.

mild panic and pride mixed beautifully in obi-wan’s face, pulling at it in ways that gently tugged at the light wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. obi-wan would be lying if he said that his heart did not jump into his throat in fear that something would go wrong, that you would hurt yourself in your playfulness. however, when he saw you, alive and unscathed, pride gleaming in your eyes as the flourish put him in a position that would’ve won you a battle, he couldn't have been more proud of you-his love wielding his lightsaber as if it was what you were born to do.

‘how’s my form, master kenobi?’ mischief dripped from your words, his title slipping off your honeyed tongue so elegantly that it elicited a delicate warmth in his chest, and a heated redness to his cheeks.

with a flick of his finger, the blade disappeared into the hilt, into nothingness, under his deft manipulation of the force, before he reached for you, pulling your small, delicate form into his. his arms wrapped around you, the silks and chiffons of your simple dress kissing his arms as he pulled you into him and placed his lips sweetly-albeit a little forcefully-in a kiss that melted both your heart and his own.

‘and when i thought you possibly occupy and melt any more of my heart, you’ve found a way to prove me wrong.’ he hummed into the small space between you, the vibrations and soft brushes of the suppleness of his lips delicate and heartwarming against yours

his heart felt as though it collapsed like a dying star before being reborn again as you buried your face into the warmth of his chest, his exposed skin soft against yours. one hand found purchase among the soft strands of the hair at the back of your head, as the other wrapped around your waist and pulled you ever closer against him. he pressed yet another kiss to your forehead, pushing his feeling of pride and love to you through the force.

‘it was utterly perfect, darling,’ he hummed sweetly, before pulling you from his chest and reclaiming his lightsaber from your deadly, yet delicate hands. ‘i knew you would be a terrifying force to be reckoned with, but i didn’t know you would look so beautiful doing it.’

at that, your heart swelled with pride, a smile tugging at your lips and a blush rising to consume your cheeks and tips of your ears. obi-wan couldn’t help but smile down at you-- the warmth which radiated from your heart and your soul and into the force for him to perceive was too sweet not to.

‘oh, obi-wan,’ you sighed, ‘i don’t deserve your kind words.’

‘you deserve the universe and more,’ obi-wan cooed, his delicate touch finding its way to your heated cheek as he moved to cradle it in his large, gentle palm, heart melting as tears of pure happiness stung your eyes as you melted into his touch. ‘my high praise is the least you deserve.’

‘obi-wan, will you spend the night with me? or can i spend the night with you? i don’t believe i can bare to part with you right now.’

‘i wouldn’t miss the chance to be in your lovely presence for the whole corellian system, darling.’ obi-wan hummed, thumb tracing its familiar patterns once more.

‘obi-wan,’ his name was soft-barely a whisper- on our tongue as you said it: the name of the jedi master you loved so dearly. ‘must you make it so very unbearable to part from you every time the war leads you away from coruscant… away from me?’

obi-wan’s gaze softened into sadnesses he dropped his gaze to his hands as they moved to hold yours, to feel their softness once more. he knew you missed him when he had to leave on these missions and risk their unknown circumstances. he dreaded the moment when he finally boarded the transport, slipping out of your sight as you watched from some hidden place in the jedi temple or the senate buildings. he could feel the pain your heart brought you in those moments as it radiated through the force. he would do anything to kiss away the tears that would form in worry at the corners of your eyes, to comfort you in his warm embrace, to wrap you up in his cloak and hold you close for eternity.

but he couldn’t. the many walls of steel, glass and space that separated you from him were too great to physically abound. so instead he would send you a sweet message of comfort over your commlinks, and press his thoughts and feelings into the back of his mind, into the depths of his heart. he would miss you, but his feelings would always act as his motivation, and he would always come back to you. obi-wan had lost so many people in his own life. he would never willingly put you through that pain of losing him. so he would fight valiantly and efficiently, cutting down the enemy or gathering intel in the manner that would certainly return him to you in the quickest and safest manner possible.

‘i promise i don’t do it willingly, my sweet’ he sighed, his voice soft and as comforting as he possibly could--though you didn’t miss the note of sadness that lined the edges of his words. gently, his hands pulled you close to him, so that there was barely any space between the two of you. one left your grasp to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with great care and delicacy before resting his forehead against yours. your eyes fluttered shut in tandem with his, as to let the soft sensation of him so close to you overwhelm your senses.

and then his voice was warm and pleasant as it formed in your mind, as clear as your own.

i swear to you, my darling, for every time i leave you behind, i will always come back to you. i will not leave you alone in this galaxy by yourself. not ever.

your eyes fluttered open at the formation of the words, only to find his beautiful blue eyes staring sweetly into yours, into your heart.

‘and i’ll always be waiting for you upon your return, my love.’

‘i know, darling,’ he hummed graciously. ‘i know.’

and then, as the sun’s rays faded and the dark of night began to set in, in the safety and sanctuary of the verdant gardens about you, obi-wan kenobi kissed you, soft and sweet as his hands found the curvature of your cheek and the warmth of your body with his own. he kissed you, stardust dancing about your lips at his gentle caresses, in the safety of the gardens, where no one could separate you from him, where he could show you a small fraction of his love for you without the burden of the galaxy’s prying eyes.

‘what do you say i gather my things aboard the transport, and i’ll meet you in your chambers in, say-half an hour?’ he hummed, brownish auburn eyebrows tilting upwards as he gazed lovingly into your eyes, asking for your permission to occupy your time with his own sweet and lovely presence.

‘i’d like that very much,’ you smiled, revelling in the way a boyish grin covered his now slightly swollen lips. he parted from you to gather his robes hurriedly before returning to your side, to press three quick kisses, to your cheek, your forehead and, finally, your lips.

‘half an hour, then, my darling.’

and sure enough, there he was, standing in your doorway half an hour later, ready to scoop you up in his strong arms and spin you about with pure, love-filled elation. his lips would cover your face, your neck and collarbones, your shoulders-anywhere his lips could find the sweet pleasure of your soft exposed skin.

and for the rest of the night, he was yours-nuzzling his face into the comforts of your stomach as he cuddled into you, wrapping his arms around you in the most loving way, kissing you like you were the oxygen in his lungs, the blood in his veins, and the stardust which made up his being.

and when he left on the transport the next morning, your heart ached at the loving smile that pulled at his lips when his eyes met yours. and somehow you knew, all would be alright, that he would return to you in three-cycle’s time to kiss you and love you all over again.

i will come back to you, my lovely darling. i promise

[tlhrfanfic]

[Prinxiety] Is It Possible

Title: Is It Possible Ship: Prinxiety Warnings: Uh... just angel and demon mention. Fangs/sharp teeth mention. Words: 2,932 Request: So, this was the second request that I chose:  Prinxiety but they're an angel and demon who just can't stop running into each other, and lowkey don't want to stop? This was also sent in by an anon.

Summary: Virgil is an angel who has become alarmingly close with the one being he has no business being close with. Roman, the demon, on the other hand believes alarmingly close is just what they need to be.

Read on AO3

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Virgil wasn't in existence for The Beginning... but it was close. Never ask an angel how long they've been around. At best, like Virgil, that's way too much math and there are far better things to do. At worst... well, as far as Virgil had been told, those people are never heard from again. While Angels were supposed good and pure and faultless—blah blah blah—he'd dated a couple and knew better. Heh. Boy did he know better. 

 Anyway.

 The point was, Virgil had been around for a very long time and he had never, ever met anyone as exhausting and irritating as Roman.

“Aww, did you miss me, angel?”

 Virgil rolled his eyes, ignoring the heat that rose up the back of his neck. 

 “Right. Me, a lowly angel, missing the Prince of Darkness. I don’t think so.”

 Roman—a demon—actually pouted. 

 Virgil sensed the other behind him but when the demon wrapped his arms—and tail—around him, Virgil just sighed and pressed back into the touch.

 Their...relationship...was a complicated one, to say the very least. 

 “Don’t think you can try to distract me, Roman,” he said, turning around in his arms even as he said it. Unfortunately, as he was supposed to be watching over Remy, ready at a moment’s notice to guide the barista toward goodness, he was not doing a very good job at not being distracted.

 “Darling. I’m a demon. Distraction is inevitable. I’d be happy to give you a demon-stration.”

 Virgil actually snorted at that. He couldn’t help it. Ever since he’d become best friends with the human Patton, one that he had saved from Roman’s temptation, Virgil had become a sucker for puns. Roman seemed proud of himself. 

 Suddenly, his expression became sincere. Soft. 

 “I know we’re supposed to hate each other, kitten, but I don’t—”

 “Roman, stop.”

 “—hate you, Virgil.”

 Virgil grumbled under his breath. Here it came. 

 “I love you, kitten.”

 It wouldn’t be the first, or the last, time he’d said those words to Virgil.

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil thought back to the first time Roman had said those three little words. 

 He couldn’t recall the year—that was thousands upon thousands of lifetimes ago—but he could remember the day just like it was yesterday. 

 Roman had just beaten Virgil, tempting the human that they were both trying to win for their respectful bosses. 

 “Stop gloating,” Virgil muttered but he allowed a little sort at the victory dance the demon was currently doing. 

 “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Virgil.” He grinned happily, sun glinting off his canines.

 “You are very annoying.”

 “You know that you like me,” Roman teased, his voice sounding melodic as he spoke. Virgil’s eyes widened, his neck growing hotter and hotter. 

 “I do not!”

 “You do too—wait! Are you… are you blushing, angel?”

 Virgil groaned and threw his hands in the air. Of all the lifetimes he had known Roman, he couldn’t understand for the existence of him why he continued to be his friend. 

 Rather close friend, truth be told. 

 “Just… go back to your victory!”

 “What—oh right! Haha! I am the victor!”

 Thank God Roman had a one track mind where victory was concerned. He watched the other and snorted as a soft smile slowly slipped onto his face. Virgil rolled his eyes at the other’s continued antics but the grin did not leave his face. 

 “Aw! Look… what kind of expression is that? Does… does somebody have a crush?”

 He was once again saying the words as if they were a little lighthearted song. Virgil tensed slightly as the other closed the distance between them, watching his every move. Once the demon reached him, however, it was with a sincere and warm gaze that Roman regarded him. 

 Though he had known Roman long enough to know he had moments of sincerity, he couldn’t come up with one good reason why Roman would look at him with such warmth.

 “We’ve been at this for how long now, sweetheart?”

 Virgil didn’t know why but he didn’t have a good feeling about this. 

 “Stop,” he bristled.

 “Stop what, Virgil? I’m only pointing out the facts… Something I learned from Logan—you know, the human I stole from you.”

 Even when he was trying to be sentimental, he still had to go and rub it in. 

 That was so like Roman. 

 What Roman was saying, however, was true. They had been at this odd friendship-rivalry for a very long time.

 He also, maybe, was correct about Virgil having a crush on him. 

 Virgil didn’t have to admit it though!

 Not to himself, and sure as hell not to Roman. 

 “I don’t have a clue what you’re going on about, demon!”

 The blush that was currently inching up the back of his neck was completely ignored in favor of scowling at the demon. 

 “Uh huh,” Roman said, not sounding convinced in the slightest. 

 Virgil couldn’t really blame him but Virgil had always been difficult like that. 

 “Darling, we’ve been rivals, and friends, for thousands of years and for at least a couple of those thousand, we’ve been dancing around this thing between us.”

 “Thing?” Virgil asked incredulously. “We do not have a thing Roman.”

 But… perhaps they did.

 Still. Roman was a demon and Virgil was an angel. 

 It just wouldn’t—couldn’t—work. And Virgil, ever one to guard his heart, was not about to take a chance on something that had no hope of ever working out.

 “Virgil,” Roman began, sounding sad. He moved to stand right in front of him.

 Virgil was sure he should move away but, he was a little ashamed to admit, he just didn’t want to. 

 Looking down at the shorter being, Virgil sighed as he caught the adoration and affection in those golden eyes. 

 “Roman,” Virgil said, his tone defensive. 

 “Virgil… I’m certain I’m in love with you.”

 God damn it.

 “Why?”

 Roman looked confused and perhaps a little affronted. 

 “What do you mean ‘why’?”

 “I mean that exactly, Roman. Why? Why, why, why, why?”

 Virgil moved away from the other as he started to pace back and forth. 

 “You are a demon. I am an angel. Roman—it’s impossible.”

 “I like a challenge…”

 “There is no challenge here. There is no anything! We are supposed to be enemies! Why can you not get that?”

 Roman smiled a soft, sad smile. 

 “You’ll never be an enemy to me, sweetheart.”

 Virgil blushed and gestured wildly with his hands. 

 “Stop!” His pacing interrupted, Virgil put his face into his hands and groaned.

 Roman closed the distance between once more. 

 “Virgil, I am going to embrace you.”

 Roman gave the angel time to move away if he wished before pulling Virgil into his arms. Virgil tensed at first but made no motion to pull away. Eventually, he closed his eyes and leaned into the embrace. 

 “It’s okay, sweetheart. I love you and I’ve got all the time in existence for you to realize that we are simply meant to be.”

 “You simple minded fool…” Virgil grumbled but it was with a shaky breath that he gazed down at the other. 

 “I am far from simple, my dearest angel.”

 That was God’s Honest truth too. Roman was most eccentric. 

 “Yeah, yeah.”

 Roman chuckled deeply before pulling away just enough to take Virgil’s hand and bow over it, kissing the back of his hand as he looked up at him from beneath long dark lashes. Heart thumping heavily against his chest, Virgil quickly pulled his hand away before flailing his hands wildly once more. 

 There were quite a few times after that, but each one was met with Virgil’s dismissal. Confessions brushed off and pretended they didn’t make his heart stir. Denying what he wanted. It just never seemed like the right time. 

 Then again, in Virgil’s mind, no time would ever be right. 

 The next time Virgil could recall in complete detail was nine hundred years, give or take a couple hundred, after the first. 

 Virgil snorted as Roman growled the moment the human they’d both been watching over made the decision to stay on the straight and narrow. His lip curled slightly, showing off twin sharp fangs, making the demon’s displeasure clear as glass.

 “What’s wrong, Roman?” Virgil teased with a smirk. “Can’t take the heat? Get out of hell.” 

 Roman made a face and proceeded to actually stick his tongue out. 

 “Rude.” 

 Roman pouted but comfortable silence soon fell between them as they watched the human. Virgil was enjoying the moment but soon tensed. Companionable silence usually led to one thing. 

 “Virgil…”

 The demon’s voice was soft, warm, and gentle. It warmed him completely and when the other pulled him into a firm embrace, Virgil allowed it. 

 “Roman,” Virgil said after some time, his voice quiet and a little shaky.

 “Yes, dear angel?” 

 “We… we can’t.”

 “Why not?”

 “You are a demon and I am an angel.”

 “Very observant, my dear.”

 “Fool.”

 “Only a fool in love.” 

 “Oh my God, you are so infuriating.”

 Roman pouted at that but sighed and squeezed Virgil a little tighter. The angel gave a start as Roman’s tail curled around his leg but settled into the embrace once more, sighing.

 “All of your flirtation and embraces are not going to change the face that we are an angel and a demon, Roman. Nothing can change that.”

 “Who says anything needs to change? You being an angel is one of the many things I love about you, angel.”

 “Don’t use that word!” Virgil hissed, pressing his face into the other’s neck, blushing deeply. 

 A deep chuckle left the demon, Virgil feeling the rumble of it against his body with how closely Roman held him. 

 “Which word? Change? Angel?”

 Virgil pulled back to glower down at the demon. 

 “You know which word!”

 “Mmm… I don’t think I do. I’ve said so many words. It really could be any one of them.”

 Virgil growled. 

 “Stop saying ‘love’!”

 “Oh! That word!”

 “You knew very well I meant that word.”

 “Maybe… but I wanted to hear you say it.”

 Virgil grumbled again, ignoring the heat flooding his face.

 “You fiend.”

 Roman laughed heartily at that. A moment later, Roman pulled back to reach up, taking Virgil’s face into his hands. 

 “You know what comes next, angel.” He was right. Virgil new damn well what was coming next. 

 God damn him.

 “I love you, Virgil.”

 Virgil sighed heavily. 

 “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

 “Now, that’s not true.”

 It really wasn’t but Roman definitely did not need to be privy to that information.

 “I’m going to kiss you now.”

 Roman didn’t move to kiss him right away. Virgil assumed it was to give him time to move out of his embrace if he did not wish for the demon to kiss him. Yet, though Virgil knew he needed to leave right then, the angel just couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

 Roman smiled, pressing closer to the other as he leaned up, closing his eyes as he covered Virgil’s mouth with his own. Virgil couldn’t deny, even to himself, that he felt the intense spark in that kiss. He could, however, deny, to everyone for all of time that he most definitely kissed the demon back. 

 Especially to himself.

 There were many similar encounters that followed after that day. There were fleeting touches and longing kisses but Virgil could never bring himself to give into Roman’s offer completely. He had come close a handful of times but the closest had been in the Roaring Twenties when the angel and demon had finally gone state-side. 

 “Hello, angel~” A voice purred in his ear.

 Arms wrapped around him and Virgil pressed back into his embrace. 

 “Hello, fiend.” It was said with, perhaps, a little less grumbling than was normal. 

 “Mmm.” 

 Roman nuzzled into Virgil from behind, brushing his nose along the other’s neck and making him shiver. 

 “Nice to not be against each other… for once.”

 “Just because we have different charges, Roman, does not mean we aren’t against each other.”

 “You know what I mean, kitten.”

 Virgil sighed. Roman wasn’t wrong. He knew exactly what Roman meant but everything with him was all so confusing and complicated that he just didn’t want to deal with it.

 So he turned around in the other’s embrace, looking down at him with determination. 

 “Just shut up and kiss me, fiend.”

 If Roman was surprised by his request—okay, order—he didn’t show it. Instead, the demon smiled at him, love and adoration clear in his golden gaze. 

 “Anything for you, angel.”

 Roman reached up and held his face like he had so many times before. Virgil melted into the demon as the other kissed him deeply. If a soft, content sound escaped him as he wrapped his arms around the demon, Virgil would never admit it.

 The most recent time had been a week ago. Both of them had been assigned to the same human—a young barista named Remy—and Virgil had definitely had his work cut out from him. 

 “Oooh~ I’ve got this one in the bag!”

 Virgil rolled his eyes but had nothing to say. Roman was correct. In fact, even though Remy seemed like a good person, he would definitely fit in more with Roman’s crowd. 

 Roman grinned, flashing his sharp canines. 

 Virgil quickly looked away, ignoring the heat rising up the back of his neck and the way his heart began to beat rapidly in his chest. 

 God damned human disguise.

 God damned Roman.

 “What is that look for, angel?”

 Virgil startled slightly to find the demon so much closer suddenly. 

 “You freaking ninja, GOD!”

 Roman laughed at that, flashing his fangs once more. 

 Virgil really wished Roman would stop doing that! In what millennium had he started to find those nasty things adorable?

 “Why the hell don’t you wear a human disguise?”

 Roman blinked. He then grinned slowly. 

 God damn blush. 

 “Because no human form could ever compare to all of this.”

 Then, because he obviously had it out for the angel, Roman proceeded to gesture at all of himself while shimmying. 

 Virgil scoffed but it was weak and the blush coloring his face a pretty magenta told another story. 

 “Aww! So you do agree!”

 “Shut up, you!”

 “Nope!” Roman chirped, popping the end of the word as he flashed his sharp canines once more. 

 Virgil covered his face with his hands and groaned.

 “So cute!”

 “I am not cute!” Virgil growled but allowed the demon to pull him into a hug. 

 “Okay, okay. Put your claws away, kitten.”

 Virgil grumbled but leaned into Roman’s embrace with a content sigh. 

 If only the demon could leave well enough alone for once. This was Roman he was talking about, however, so that was impossible. 

 As if to prove Virgil right, Roman pulled away, causing Virgil to look down at him in surprise. The smile Roman regarded him with was softer and more sincere than Virgil had ever remembered seeing it. He tensed before relaxing once more, knowing what was coming and knowing, by now, there was no way to stop it. 

 Also, there was a part of him—a very small but extremely stubborn part—that didn’t want to stop it.

 “I love you, angel.”

 Virgil sighed heavily, nodding. 

 “Yeah…” he muttered. “I know, fiend. You never give me enough milleniums to forget.”

 Roman chuckled at that before taking his face into both hands and kissing him soundly. 

 Virgil was more than happy to give into his kisses in favor of stopping any further discussions on love. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Which brought them back to the present and Roman, once again, professing his love for the angel. 

 Virgil’s heart was beating rapidly against his chest and warmth settled over him. Roman’s words and actions had had that effect on him for a very long time. 

 There was, however, a small but very significant difference. 

 For the first time since Roman had first confessed his love, Virgil felt that—perhaps—he could take a chance. 

 Then there was the sudden realization that he was wholly and unreservedly in love with Roman. 

 “I… I love you too…” Virgil said slowly, watching the other closely. 

 Roman’s head snapped up so fast Virgil felt bad for his neck. He didn’t have long to pity his neck, however, as golden eyes grew wide with wonder. 

 “Kitten… did you just—”

 “Yes, fiend! I finally said it! I love you! Are you happy now?”

 Roman smiled brightly, his gaze wet and filled with adoration and happiness. 

 “Very, angel. Oh so very!”

 Virgil sighed but smiled warmly at the demon. Shaking slightly out of nerves and the raw intensity of the moment, Virgil reached out to take Roman’s face into his hands. Brushing the other’s cheeks with his thumbs, Virgil held the other’s gaze. As if controlled by some unseen force, Virgil leaned in and kissed Roman softly—tentatively—upon his mouth.

 Roman sighed into the kiss, the sound a little shaky. Virgil quickly pulled back, looking down at the other with concern. 

 “What’s wrong?”

 “Nothing, angel. Just… just so happy.”

 He looked it too, beaming up at him and regarding him with so much love that it was almost disconcerting. 

 “Fiend,” Virgil said softly with affection evident in his tone. Roman chuckled softly. 

 “Angel.” 

 Virgil surged forward, kissing Roman firmly on the mouth. When his demon immediately deepened the kiss, Virgil reciprocated quite happily. 

 It was as the two kissed, the world continuing all around them, that Virgil had an epiphany. 

 Maybe, just maybe, a demon and angel falling in love wasn’t impossible after all.

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Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.

Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @sunshineandteddybears​ and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.