#sometimes I write stuff

[waldronconnells]

handcuffed to the spell i was under. 

aaron / robert

ao3 link

This, they both think, feels far too much like the last time. Robert all flat-haired with circles under his eyes, his maroon prison jumper clashing with the blue apron. Aaron alone at the small wonky table the guards have placed him at, the memories of the place trying to suffocate him.

So for a moment, they both just stare and try to breathe against the tightness in their respective chests.

“I wasn't sure you'd show,” is what Robert settles on, breathing out the words as he drags the metal chair back across the linoleum floor and sinks down into it. “Neither was I,” Aaron starts, sitting up a little straighter. “But-”, he hesitates and Robert's eyes grow a little wider with it.

“But what?”

“God, I don't know, Robert.” Aaron's jaw tightens around every letter of the older man's name. “Guess I'm still not fond of the idea of you rotting in prison all on your own,” he mumbles with a shrug as his hands tighten around the edges of the table. “That's allowed, innit?”

Robert looks down and lands on Aaron's left hand; the slim golden band there a stark contrast against the table’s off-white.

“You tell me,” he challenges and it's not like wedding bands have ever kept Robert from what he wanted before, but that doesn't make this sting any less.

Aaron's eyes follow suit. The neon light is reflecting off the ring that somehow manages to look both too little and too much like one that's been sitting in a box at the back of his sock drawer for the better part of six years and before Aaron knows it, he’s hastily pushed his hand deep down the pocket of his jeans.

“Why now then?” he questions, looking back up, but fixing his sight on some sort of instructional poster at the back of the visitation room, just over Robert's right ear, because it's easier that way. “Couldn't be bothered for six whole years,” he huffs through gritted teeth, “but now that-” He stops and, hand in his pocket, turns his wedding ring with his thumb. “Why now?” he pushes out, somewhere between exhausted and curious.

“Guess I just wanted to see you, really,” Robert answers, trying and failing to sound casual about it all. “Apologise,” he shrugs, “maybe.”

“Yeah, right,” it's deadpan and Aaron's looking right at his ex husband now. “As if.”

“Right”, Robert crosses his arms with a sigh. “But you know why I had to try though,” he asks earnestly. ”Don't you,” he follows up and despite his tired eyes, there's a smile playing around his mouth that's all Aarons's Robert; bold and in love and with a technicolour sky full of shared memories to back it up.

There's an “I know” sitting at the top of Aaron's tongue in response, but it holds too much significance and suddenly he's 23 again, standing opposite a floppy-haired Robert, who's all determination and unmet expectations wrapped in an ill fitting blue suit, begging him not to marry Chrissie.

He looks at the blonde and sees a version of that exact same memory reflected back at him.

“Karma, huh?” Robert quips and even though his smile doesn't reach his eyes, Aaron can't help but huff a laugh at it.

“I s'pose,” he retorts and then, more seriously, “You’re the one who wanted me to move on, remember?” And of course Robert remembers, because he's spent the past six years stuck in a square box thinking of little else, but “well,” he says, ”turns out saying it and actually seeing it happen are too very different things.” There's a little anger in it, but mostly pain and Aaron can feel every ounce of it right down to his bones.

It takes a few quiet breaths until Robert is tilting his head at him. “I didn't want you to waste your life on me, you do get that, don't ya?”

Aaron scrunches up his nose at that, lips pressed together into a thin line. It makes him want to crawl out of his skin, the way Robert tries and makes tipping Aaron's life on its axis, cutting him off and leaving him to live with half a heart without a warning sound like a gift.

“That wasn't your choice to make,” is what he lands on in response.

“Aaron-” Robert can feel a tingling in his fingers, has almost convinced himself to reach for Aaron's hand on the table (the one without the stupid ring), because just maybe then he'll stop feeling like he'a drowning, but he thinks better of it and alternately settles for wrapping his arms around himself a little tighter. He digs his nails into the thick polyester of his jumper and a little further even still, right against the skin underneath, letting the pain of it ground him instead.

“Either way,” Aaron cuts him off, “you don't get to judge me for how I fixed what you broke in the first place.”

Robert furrows his brows at him in response. “That's not what-”, he starts off, wanting to set Aaron straight, but he gets interrupted once again. Because Aaron can't hear all that now, doesn't want to, just wants to get out what he came here to say in the first place. “I just need us to find a way to make this work, Robert,” he pleads, ”if you're really planning on coming back to the village I can't have you and John at each other's throat at all times, you making threats-”

And Robert can see how much it's costing Aaron to get the words out, can see it in the way he straightens his shoulders while his eyes haze over just a little with tears threatening to fall, so he concedes.

“I'll behave,” he nods, because when it comes down to it, really comes down to it, Robert just wants Aaron happy. 

It earns him a raised eyebrow. “That’s not what it sounded like two weeks ago.”

“Yeah well, it's this place,” Robert shrugs, looking around the room, ”has a way of sucking the hope right out of ya.”

And indeed, Aaron does, but that doesn't mean it's enough to convince him. 

“Robert-” he starts off again. It's a low and quiet thing that sounds like an apology as well as a plea.

“I'll try, alright,” Robert reiterates and Aaron knows that he means it just as much as he knows that it probably won't play out that way. “That's the best you'll get,” he amends, like he's still able to read Aaron's every thought. “If you're really sure about this," Robert takes a deep breath and digs his nails deeper into the sides of his sweater once again, ”I'll try." Yet another deep breath against Aaron's small nod. "For your sake.”

“I'll try, ” Robert repeats, quieter and more to himself than anyone else this time, because he finds that he still can't quite make the words fit. Not when it's the two of them. 

They sit in silence for another moment, before the loud buzzing noise goes off, indicating that visitation time has come to an end. The room around them comes alive at the sound, shuffling feet and chairs all around them, but both of them stay put in place taking each other in for just a second longer.

“Head down, yeah,” Aaron urges. “Then you actually might get out of this place for good in no time.” He gets up and bites his bottom lip, both hands in his pockets now, afraid of what he might do with them otherwise.

“Head down,” Robert reaffirms as one of the guards grabs him by the arm to escort him out. Only he turns around again a moment later with a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “But when you do change your mind, Aaron, you know where to find me,” and it's not so much cocky as there's simply a quiet determination to it, because he's Robert afterall, and then the guard's shoving him back towards the cell block. 

And christ, Aaron's mum sure was right when she spoke about being struck by lightning. Still.

[pinkiemme]

Shadow puppets (Gale x Tav)

Drawing by me, full pic here

Shadow puppets

A/N: Soft Gale x Tav, around 900 words!

“That’s an owl bear! How did you manage to make an owl bear, Gale?” you whisper yell at him as you get even closer to the wizard.

You’re both lying down next to the fire you made earlier. Gale’s hands are extended towards the hidden sky, the soft shadow cast by his fingers is moving over the wall of the cave you had camped in. You were now so close you could feel his shoulder moving against yours while he played with his hands, a smile adorning his lips.

You were transfixed by the simplicity and beauty of the shadows, and you had recognized the silhouette of an owl bear. Gale kept moving his fingers, making it look like the owl bear was licking its beak.

“How do you do it?” You move your eyes to his hands now, curious about how he had positioned them. You hear a little chuckle coming from him, and feel his breath on the skin of your face before hearing his voice, softer than you had ever heard it before “I am merely moving my hands, there’s no magic in it”.

You glance at his face, he seems to be focused despite his words “Gale, I think you have a gift for this”. The wizard looks at you now and presses his lips together before speaking again “Let me tell you a secret, I managed to do it by mere chance” he smiles at you and looks back to his hands, his eyebrows raising as he opens his mouth once more “Look! It’s getting furious, whatever did you do to anger it?”

“This” you mumble at the same time you raise your hand towards his while observing how your shadow joined the owl bear form. And then, you move your fingers so it looks like you’re flicking its head, a soft giggle leaving your mouth.

Before you have time to react Gale grabs your hand firmly, moves it so your palm stays open and your fingers spread. You can feel his soft skin as he guides you. With one hand he starts to gently caress your arm, the long fingers of the other one intertwining with yours.

You feel goosebumps on your skin and hold your breath, your eyes focused on the shadows your hands are creating. It’s beautiful. The way you can’t really say which fingers are whose, his two hands now encasing yours. It’s sensual. The way you can feel how his breath hitches when your palms press together. It’s erotic. The way he murmurs against your ear “We are designing a flower with our hands, with our touch” as his body presses against yours and the shadows forms a blossom of entangled fingers. It’s arousing.

You both start to move your hands, a soft pinch here, a bold caress there. Your heart is beating fast, you can feel it on your throat and your ears, your face gets warm and your breath quickens. You can’t look away from the shadows of your joined hands, playing with each other’s.

“Gale, this is beautiful” you manage to gasp out the words, and for once, you don’t hear his voice replying to you, just a hum that makes his chest vibrate.

Then, you finally look at your hands suspended in the air. His fingers are so alluring, you can’t resist the sudden urge to kiss them and with your fingers grasping his own you bring his hands down. Towards your face. Towards your mouth.

He can feel your hot breath on his fingertips, and he doesn’t dare exhale the air in his lungs, afraid he might break the spell you find yourself in. His eyes are fixated on your glistening lips. He feels as if time has stopped, and wants nothing more than for you to continue, to feel your mouth on his skin.

Gale can feel his own lower lip trembling in anticipation, his rib cage feels like it will explode any minute, something inside wanting to burst. It’s a sensation nothing like the one that that damned orb creates. He wanted more, he wanted more of that agonizing feeling. He desired to get addicted to this anxious warmth inside of him.

And then, when your lips touched his fingers, his eyes flicked to yours, a loud gasp escaping him, and as you looked at him with a glowing gaze he launched his whole body towards yours and captured your mouth with his own.

He could feel your heart on your tongue and it made him even more ravenous.

He needed more, the taste of you intoxicating him. Your lips overpowered his senses, he felt numb and alive at the same time, so so alive, in fact.

His nose moved smoothly along yours while your tongues moistened each other. He found himself unable to open his eyes when he separated briefly from your face, his lips pecking yours one, two times, before speaking “I hope I’m not wrong at assuming you wished for this as much as I did”

You opened your eyes and looked at his closed eyelids, then to your shadows, your bodies so close it was all a big dark spot on the cave wall. You felt like you were one, and it made you smile softly against his lips. You squeeze his hand still intertwined with yours and speak in hushed tones “You assumed correctly, Gale, now, I would gladly take a bit more”

[mycollectioncloud]

Sometimes I Wonder.

What kind of place The world would be If we all said What was really On our minds. Probably painful at first But better in the long run

[littlehollyleaf]

OMG You wrote The Fox and The Scorpion?? That fic is PHENOMENAL you are like number one character understander ever <3

Hi *blushes* yeah *blushes more* I did that, that was mine, me, I wrote that one, yeah...

The responses to this fic continue to astound me, honestly. It might be the one I'm most proud of, ever. I'm so chuffed people continue to enjoy it.

Thank you, anon <3 Really, REALLY, happy my characterisation worked for you x

[somanyfandomsorkinafs]

(I am ~buzzing~ with ideas…. Allow me to release some)

Once Danny was an adult, he decided to join Ellie in her ‘permanent world tour’. It’s better than staying in Amity where the opinion of Phantom hasn’t gotten much better. Besides, the portal caused the veil to get weaker, allow ghost to wreak havoc where ever they want.

He’s met a lot new ghost cause of this too. Old as Mycenaean Greece to non humans who came to Earth and died there. Danny’s learnt so much from them that he’s basically a walking in Encyclopaedia.

So, Danny’s decided “fuck it.” and has it became a part-time history teacher. It’s fun! He knows the details by heart and is able to make it more fun than just droning on about the same old wars and whatever. He enjoys it, the kids enjoy it and the ghosts having their stories told!

Of course, this does cause some problems when people try to correct him. Danny’s argument? “I got them correct sources.”

And when anyone asks him how knows his sources are correct? “My source was there when it happened.”

Cue the dc world thinking that Danny’s just some immortal guy whose decided to use his immortality for good(TM)

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[outer-andromeda]

Usually I try to better clean up and color these... But I REALLY wanted to share 'em as soon as possible cuz I really like how they look already, sue me :')))

Some story time under the cut for those of you who want context >:000

((EDIT - Small TWs for some negative talk and mentions of grief. Also spoilers for the ending on Chapter 4 :00)

As mentioned in a previous post, Gabby and Doey's relationship is... Very strained after the events of the fourth chapter.

Doey joined the group (Gabby, Kissy and Ava) eventually while they were venturing as subtly as possible to avoid running into Huggy. It was a surprise, obviously - they all thought he was six feet underground since the aftermath of him crashing down. They were all relieved to know he was still alive, but something was different. He wasn't as jovial as his usual self was... He was just... Off. Quiet. Monotone.

(Which is understandable since the guy is literally GRIEVING the loss of the kids of the Safe Haven y'know- and he feels immense guilt for what happened)

At some point, they get separated - Kissy and Ava stick together, while Doey and Gabby venture on their own way, both groups hoping to join each other again eventually. Doey and Gabby still have that quiet dynamic going on, because the human guy doesn't want to make things any worse than they already are. So he tries to be the cheerful one. For both his and Doey's sakes. He tries as hard as he can. But it falls flat. And Gabby, despite himself, grows more and more irritated by Doey's unusual calmness. Something's obviously going on and he won't say anything about it.

Something happens that puts them in a dangerous situation, and everything spills out. Gabby wants to talk, he wants answers. Doey is trying to ignore it, but he's being pushed. And suddenly his anger blooms back out. And he lashes out on Gabby. Shouts all the words he hadn't gotten out. How he was never any good for the kids. How he could've done so much more. How if it wasn't for him, "they'd still be breathing and standing right now". How Gabby can't understand. And Gabby... Takes it. He stands there, listening to every single thing he says. Silently.

He's not afraid. And Doey notices. It's unnerving. It catches him completely off guard. It's like something is starting to break inside of him. Something he's not sure he wants to let shatter much more...

And then Gabby hugs him. And the thing in Doey's core is completely obliterated. And the tears are finally, finally let loose. And his shoulders finally relax to wrap themselves around the short man.

They talk after some VERY good comforting words from Gabby. They find Kissy and Ava after some searching, and they're back on track.

And from then on, their relationship changes back slowly to the small friendship they had formed in the past, plus more. They both understand and trust each other, and Doey feels relief from having someone he can confide in and let himself relax with. And just... Be a kid. Even if just for a bit. All three kids need that so badly, and Gabby tries his best to give that to them. To Doey. Because he, out of anyone, deserves a break the most.

[acid-ixx]

mild spoilers for chapter six for my series again &. again, but i really feel the need to ramble about this, and i'd love to hear anybody's opinion on this hehe.

as i write outline chapter six (and write for chapter five), i'd like to say i couldn't wait to write the reader's face reveal in bruce's perspective. and it's not just angst, for me, this plays a very pivotal turn for the series— because bruce will spiral to insanity.

to never once see a single portrait of your second youngest child, whose presence has long been erased from the manor, not a single image, nor trace of you is sickening to the heart, even if he scours through the internet day and night for a single memoir of you, nothing— but to find your portrait in alfred's living quarters and seeing you for the first time in forever? graduating a milestone no less?

god, he's in for a ride just analyzing every aspect of your physical appearance.

the color of your eyes, the shape of your nose, the quip of your mouth, the fat in your cheeks; even the length of your lashes! god, does he brand it into the deepest parts of his mind to never forget you anymore. his pearl, his treasure.

the longer he stares, the more he notices and gazes even more, obsessive as he stands lonesome in the room with every bone in his body locking up, his eyes unable to look away from the portrait that showcases his baby child.

and there, there it is that he concludes a detail so small it's unrecognizable for someone who's seen it for his entire life; yet it's all the same triggered deranged emotions deep within him.

— you don't just share him and your mother's traits, no, your smile is also reminiscent of his mother's.

martha wayne, who'd died in his arms, laying in a pool of her blood with a bullet grazed deep inside her body. his loving mother, who caressed his face whenever he'd cry from his nightmares, who'd shown him motherly love that until now he still craves.

she died with her pearl necklace that once decorated her porcelain neck spilling to the ground and stained with crimson.

you wore pearl earrings on your graduation.

the thought alone is enough for him to just snap.

this? this is the child that he's been neglecting far too long? who shares the same, loving expression of his mother's? his child? not even a single memory could be conjured with you but fantasies now do. if your happiest moments were within the picture frame that he holds with shivering fingers at present; could your smile be any wider if you'd be with him?

how come he never once noticed? why is bruce always destined to fail left and right? why, just why is he brimming with jealousy for all the people who must've seen your smile before him, and contempt for himself that he was never there to pick you up from the police station beforehand?

bruce isn't a heckler for favoritism, but a darker part of him is motivated to take you away from wherever you are, and to never let anybody else witness his beautiful, little treasure.

he's gotham's knight, first and foremost. but he's a father, too, with goals to protect his children just like a father should.

and the things he'd do for you, his child, now? anything.

if it means he has to see that smile, then he'll turn the world upside-down.

he has to protect your smile.

[littlehollyleaf]

Not to be shameless

(except ofc yes to be shameless)

but

I did actually write a thing... not unlike this... back in the day...

French Mistake where Misha gets stabbed but doesn't die so Dean and Sam rush to the hospital to maybe get more details on Virgil and the whole thing and the moment they step in the nurse stops them asking if they are family bc only family is allowed in the IC unit and Jensen is about to start arguing when the director guy from the set (Rob Benedict) interjects from the bench in the corner of the waiting room that "Jensen's Misha's husband" so the nurse apologises to him and leads the way except Dean has lost all and every ability to think about anything but "I AM MARRIED TO CAS IN THIS UNIVERSE???" and then he sees Misha, helpless in bed, hooked up to so many machines and suddenly all the questions he was gonna ask about the attack disappear and he just goes to the bed, pulls out the chair and sits down, reaches out to hold Misha's hand and shyly strokes his thumb over Misha's knuckles as he tries to ground himself and banish all the images of Cas hurt and bleeding out of his mind.

[fictionalsownme]

smash???????? who said that?????????

engineer doesn't get enough love on this blog considering how much I cannot express my devotion to him, so I’m working to fix that :) this is similar to what I did for damien but it took foreverr!! iswm lighting is so so pretty which makes it impossible to get right ;;u;; the saturation is really high and there's multiple light sources so in terms of rendering it, its like it was personally designed to leave me dead on the floor :))))) either way,, I'm happy with how it turned out!! he’s very prettie :))

also bonus:

[shepscapades]

Thanks to artfight, I’ve finally finished a detailed, official dbhc cub reference! :D

(I’ve put his Artifight description below the cut, which has a more detailed explanation of his timeline, lore, and aesthetics! >:3)

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁  OVERVIEW ❁ ༺ ˎˊ-

Name: C.B.F.N.4000 (Cub) Pronouns: He/Him Species: Android Height: 5’9’’ Associated Visual Themes: vex, ghosts, explosions, mischief, scientist aesthetic, potions, potionmaking, sleepy/tired aesthetic, conspiracies

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁  ABOUT ❁ ༺ ˎˊ-

CBFN4000 is an au version of MCYT Hermitcraft’s Cubfan, set in my DBHC (or Detroit Become Hermitcraft) AU! This au is inspired by the 2018 game Detroit Become Human, but not because it really has anything to do with DBH—I simply yoinked the android mechanics and incorporated them into the world of Hermitcraft. It began as a S8 au, and has roughly followed the hermitcraft timeline up to the present! 

Cub was the last android made during Season 8. While many of the hermit androids were made at the beginning of season 8 and a few were made for season 9, Cub was finished and activated mid-late Season 8, around the time when Hermits started noticing the Big Moon. Cub’s model ended up being a sloppy experiment in deviation, as Doc suggested they try to transfer deviancy to an android upon activation to try and avoid traumatic situations that might cause an android to deviate violently or upsettingly, such as Etho’s, Tango’s, or Mumbo’s experiences. While this went relatively well initially, it clearly wasn’t very thoroughly thought out, as Xisuma (who is normally so adamant and detail-oriented when it comes to assuring the androids’ safety with experiments like this) wasn’t truly himself due to external manipulation and mostly left a relatively young-deviant Doc to carry out the project himself. 

Cub, though adjusting to sentience rather well at first, very quickly became wrapped up in the Big Moon happenings on the server, new personality and inexperience to emotions like fear and ignorance completely overwhelming his young system. He became obsessive over the implications and consequences of the Season 8 Moon Apocalypse, joining the Mooners and spreading his conspiracy theories religiously throughout the server as he descended into madness. The insanity was like a virus to his programming, pervasive and all-engulfing, and Cub’s final attempt to free himself from the Moon’s impact with the Earth—to launch himself on a llama into space via potion-powered TNT(insane btw)— left his hands and feet singed and cracked to ruin.

The experiment, considered a horrific failure by a deeply shameful—and more awake—S9 Xisuma, left Doc and Xisuma with the decision to reset him for the new season, and they ended up pairing him with a hermit like they had done with the other androids, to give him a chance to find deviancy on his own terms. So, at the start of season 9 and fresh after a reset, Cub was paired with Scar. Naturally, because Scar is… Scar, Cub deviated almost instantly after being given to him, and very quickly adopted the iconic lazy, stoic, amused attributes normally associated with Cubfan. Scar’s tendency towards mischief and general shenanigans grew instantly on Cub, and the two were an immediate inseparable pair. So much so that when Scar began rambling one day about his Season 5 Hermitcraft Shenanigans (where deals with the Vex may or may not have been involved), Cub immediately stated he was interested in being in on it. Whatever “it” means. It’s unclear if Cub also made a deal with the vex or became connected to them in some other way, but… well, he got Doc’s help to trick out his eyes, hair, and back to best fit the part. Scar is very jealous that he can't magically make himself have the same features to match.

Cub is closest with Scar (there's something there, I think), but he gets along just as well with any of the other hermits! He’s close with Jevin and many of the other redstoners like Etho and Doc, who are the other two androids I’ve put on artfight!

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁  EXTRAS ❁ ༺ ˎˊ-

Cub's eyes can light up in the dark, and he’s the only android who has edited his programming so that the default state of his LED is white, not blue. It still will go yellow and red if his processors are working particularly hard, but he’s replaced the blue setting on his LED with white to better match the Vex vibe. Cub has all of the vibes of a fae. If that’s anything <3

[housecow]

i love when a feedee is obviously a little dumb… like, awww you really couldn’t stop, could you?? no wonder you’re so big. did the thought to stop eating ever cross your mind, or did you just finish everything on your plate because that’s what you were always told to do? did you even realize your portion sizes were getting bigger, too? i bet you get a little mad when people point out how much you’re eating. of course it’s not your fault, you didn’t know any better..

stupid feedees that have to be told they’re out of control. they think they’re not even that big yet

[azrielgreen]

The Gorge spoilers::

IGAF if the cgi wasn't great or the storyline with the hollowmen was a bit lacklustre because...

HE WROTE HER A POEM AND IT WAS TITLED ✨️'SHE COLLAPSED THE NIGHT'✨️ and when she had a bad day, he retrofitted a missile launcher, ZIPLINED to her with flowers and he didn't like the rabbit pie, he *loved* it, and he did know how to dance and when he fell she did not even fucking hesitate and at the cross she was wearing the bullet necklace and THEY WERE EACH OTHER'S REASON!!!!?!

[inkskinned]

sure i find you in my hair and under my pillow and in the car. but i know in my heart you are picking me out of your teeth. i know i am burning through your sundays, sticking to your ceiling.

i hope i'm in every bitter cup of coffee and every candle wick and every bath. i hope my shadow flickers under your door so the empty hallway i have left behind is a swift dart of nothing more. i hope you find me in notebooks and stop signs and fleetwood mac - like i am marginalia on your life, i want my fingerprints burned into your days like acid.

i loved you, and you know i loved you, and for the rest of your life i will be the person you broke. for the rest of your life i hope the shame of that runs like a cattle dog, bites at your heels. i hope every time your cup is full or the moon is a toenail or a cat is purring or a laugh is in your belly or the sky turns pink while the sun is setting - i hope you remember that someone loved you, and you crushed them in your palms. you extinguished every future i lit. i hope that haunts you.

i hope you never fucking forget it.

[void-bitten-ghost]

Lucanis almost literally pulling his hair out over some paperwork so Rook just pulls up a chair near him with a book and sits, waiting, seeing if he would like the offered socialisation. He doesn't stir from his whirlwind of stress. And Rook knows it's important work they cant help with, not really, so they just stay near and start to silently read, ready for when Lucanis needs them.

Its not long before they can feel the barely there disturbance of something flitting about near their shoulders, the air feeling strange and familliar by one ear, and then the other. So they quietly start reading aloud, barely above the scratches of ink and quick mutterings of Antivan in the other corner.

Soon, the mutterings slow. The shoulders drop from his ears. Scratching becomes slow, smooth cursive and, eventually, both the paperwork and the book are finished, as is the fire in the hearth.

Rook closes the book, satisfied with its conclusion, and almost startles at a sudden Lucanis being behind them.

"Any joy?" They say, already knowing the answer.

"With you around?" He leans over the arm of the chair. "Always."

He kisses their hair, their head, their cheek.

"Thank you, amor."

They turn in the chair towards him. There's that faint hum of purple. "Feeling better?"

And there's that telling pause. "He says thank you too. And that he enjoyed the part with the giant eagles."

Rook breathes out a laugh, letting out a thoughtful "good to know" before leaning up for a soft, comfortable kiss, something with dark feathers and tingles around the edges.

[emo-batboy]

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 43 (Masterlist)

(Part 44)

Me, to myself: I just think the series was better when I posted several times a week because the pacing felt more natural, and it translates better when people binge it.

Also Me, holding two jobs and a bat: If you try to post once a day again, I will disconnect your head from your shoulders—

@bruciemilf guess who’s back

Anyways, folks! :D So I'm thinking of a new upload schedule where I spend a bit preparing the next ten or so parts then post it all in two weeks? I think that would be fun (and much better for my creative process.)

I’ll be posting the next part very soon :) But it's going to be drastically different from what I've done before. Let’s see if anyone can guess why.

Yada yada don’t die LOVE Y’ALL