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#this has been in my queue since january

dawningfairytale · 11 months

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at christmas mischa would hang two baubles next to each other at the bottom of the tree to make it look like the christmas tree has balls post

#rtc #ride the cyclone #mischa bachinski #mischa rtc #noel is like. this seems wrong. but i love ruining christmas. go for it sweetie.#this has been in the drafts since like fucking january #i just wanted to post it at the least hinged time #on my sugar queue

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ilikemcdanno · 2 years

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Throwback to this. I don’t know whether to smile or cry.

#alex oloughlin #also edit: my queue is so big that this post has been in here since January

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randomwords247 · 1 year

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Another year passed and gone, can you believe it?

I always like to try and reflect on the year nearer the end like this. I had a lot of things I wanted to say in a video, but because of some irl problems this december I haven’t been able to finish it in time, so instead I’ll say a few things here

As much as this year has definitely had its fair share of downs, particularly in December where quite a lot has gone wrong irl for me, I still feel this year 2022, for me at least, has been a much better year than those in past. Yes it’s had it’s problems but it’s also had so many good things happen, and I’ve felt a lot happier than I have in past years.

I’m hoping this’ll keep up in the new year of 2023 and that things will be a lot better and I’ll have a lot more time and energy to draw more, because goodness this year I had a bit of a drought didn’t I? Don’t really wanna keep THAT up

I think overall this year was alright, and that in and of itself is an improvement over past years with how bad they’ve been for me. Ofc this is subjective and just my own experience, I’m sure for a lot of people 2022 sucked or was even better, but I think I’m content with how things have gone, even if december HAS been testing me in that regard

Have a good one folks, happy new year =)

#ramble post #randy rambles #randy rambles too much #end of year reflection #said video will either be done in january or in february. it depends on if i can get time/energy to work on it since i have #exams in jan as well which i've been struggling to work towards #december has very sucked ass for me but otherwise this years been alright #i mean i could easily be forgetting something #years are very long. theres a lot of days #but ye #I'm fairly certain i used to do this kinda thing where i did a post talking about my year in reflection #so we back at this #gonna queue it too #woe queue be upon ye

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atlasxspeaks · 1 year

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I've been stalking the #spidersocorro tag since January, and I love everything I see, so here's me throwing my two cents in.

After the final battle (where Neteyam is only wounded, not killed), Spider tells Jake that he saved Quaritch and explains why. Why he felt like he owed the man a second chance when he saved Spider so many times. Save him from Ardmore's torture, from the Bridgehead scientists' experiments, and saved him from Neytiri.

I genuinely believe they would have experimented on the kid; he's taller and stronger than all their human soldiers at 16. That Pandorian air is doing something to him.

But while Spider is giving his tearful confession, Neytiri overhears them. She hears everything and immediately feels a rush of anger and uncomfortable conviction. She looks back on all her years of harsh treatment towards Spider and realizes just why he truly believed she'd harm him. Neytiri is then struck with the horrific thought that she is to Spider what humans and his father are to her - a monster, a demon that haunts him, someone who only brings pain. Neytiri vows then and there to do better by Spider - she doesn't see him as her child, nor is she obligated to - but she starts treating him with more respect.

Now, bringing Spider back to the Metkayina clan got mixed reviews. Most ignore him post-battle, while others are interested because they've never seen a human up close. Ronal is absolutely against it until Jake makes Spider tell her and Tonowari about his time in captivity and why he saved Quaritch.

Jake, ever the well-intentioned idiot, does it to get them to fight beside them against the humans and to get them to see the Spider is on their side. "He went through torture, guys and still didn't give us up, he's on our side!"

Ronal, however, does not see a warrior, but a child, prompting her to ask Spider how old he is, to which Jake replies 16, only for Spider to say 17 (he had his birthday in captivity because I love angst). To Ronal and Tonowari, he's still too young, and they argue with Jake over why a child was even put in a position to be kidnapped as a war prisoner in the first place. While they argue, Neytiri is silent, slowly realizing that Spider is almost an adult now by human standards. By Na'vi standards, he is one.

The Na'vi mature between the ages of 15 and 17, which is why we see Neteyam wearing the warrior's waistband in the movie because he is now an adult in the clan.

She reasons that if Spider were Na'vi, he'd be a warrior now, one of the people looking to make his own bow from home tree wood and make his place with a mate by his side.

This realization makes Neytiri vow to find Spider a good mate, someone to care for him since she can't anymore. Queue the hijinks of Neytiri vetting (terrifying) every eligible bachelor and bachelorette in Awa'atlu while simultaneously trying to see Spider more clearly to know which one will be right for him. Imagine Spider's confusion with her sudden interest as well as the sudden increase in the attention he's getting from the Metkayina, who regard him as a fine swimmer and diver thanks to his mask.

Another headcanon I have is that Spider is physically different from humans on Earth, just in ways you can't perceive without scientific testing. He has denser bones, larger lungs & organs in general, tougher skin, better eyesight, etc. The Metkayina people marvel at his differences more than the Omaticaya do because they've never seen humans before, so most of the things he does impress them.

#spider socorro #neytiri #metkayina #avatar way of water

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sugareey-makes-stuff · 8 months

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So, this WIP has been in my queue...since January? It was an idea I've been wanting to draw for a while, but you know...turning feelings and lyrics into a visual is hard. Anyway, I got the art muse and the time gods to align, so here's some new Sterek art, finally! This is more on the spicier side, so you can see the full art piece, When You Touch Me, I Turn Red, on AO3. Drawn for @yearoftheotpevent's September prompt "flood" and @tw-anchor-down's Full Moon Round prompt "just wait for it." Heavily influenced by Dua Lipa and Angèle's song, "Fever." This song has such a cool feel, but also all the energy and lyrics scream Sterek, fire and feels. This is also little something for @nerdherderette for being such a kind and amazing friend. She's definitely the person who got me hooked on Teen Wolf and Sterek, but if it wasn't for her friendship, her generous words and overall support, I would not be on the creative and mental health journey I'm on right now. She's definitely someone who has made me a better person (and artist and writer!). Thanks for all the late night squeeing and encouragement, but also, thank you for all your fic recs and for your beautiful writing! You're such a wonderful asset to fandom, and I'm always rooting for you. You deserve All the Nice Things! 💖💖💖

#year of the otp #twanchordown2023 #teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf fanart #spicy #art rec #self rec #my art #sugareey #twadfullmoon23 #do not repost

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apprenticestanheight · 4 months

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THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY TWO

Work Shirts - Lawrence Gordon x gn! reader

All right!! This is day two of my silly little christmas celebration, and of course I had to do what I've been procrastinating since basically the start of this account--write a Lawrence reader insert piece!

I love him wholeheartedly despite my lack of fics for him so this has definitely been a long time coming, and this one, much like yesterdays fic, stems from a thought I had—though with this thought, @mrkheartffmans and I went a lil feral together through the reblogs of the original post and thus, the fic concept came to light!

This is also a few years post trap because I was like "yeah working somewhere for a decade is cool but what about a decade and a half??" also—my mentality was that having it set a few years post-trap would be easier to write?? I don't know how true that actually is but it was my thought process lol.

This fic is for audiences of 18+, so minors, do not interact!

Fic type- this is mostly--almost entirely--smut. There's also angst if you squint because yeah, angst was bound to be present somewhere lol

Warnings- unprotected sex (reader is on BC), and as per usual, the reader is GN for all intents and purposes (petnames included), but I went with AFAB anatomy as that's the anatomy that I know best.

Lawrence wishes he could act like the surprise on the faces of his coworkers when he mentioned having the last two weeks of December off came as a surprise to him, but he can't and he kind of hates that.

Of course people are bound to be a little surprised by it. In the decade and a half that he's worked at Angels of Mercy, the only incident where he took any sizeable amount of time off was while he was recovering from the bathroom trap and could hardly stand, let alone walk like he used to.

But, in the three years since the bathroom trap and aside from that month long period where he allowed himself to recover before going back to work, he'd not taken a single day away. Being at work, seeing to patients and talking to people—even just going to work and filling out miscellaneous paperwork while he sat in the isolation of his office—kept his mind busy and his hands busier.

He came home from work every night and saw you, which just made his entire day as it were. You'd order food or make something quick and just spend your time lounging on the couch, occasionally get a little flirty, and laugh when Lawrences hands started wandering how they used to in the days of your masters degree and his days of medical school.

But, because of a backlog of PTO and the fact that he'd been overworking himself almost to the bone with the onslaught of people needing medical care during the last three months of the year, Lawrence decided to book the 14th through to the 2nd of January off so that he could get some rest and worry about housework so that you didn't have to worry at all, where you normally split the housework fifty-fifty.

Lawrence knew that your marketing job got really, really stressful during the last month of the year. People always unearthed different versions of themselves come the holidays, and all he wanted was for you to come home from your workday and not have to worry about menial things like a messy bathroom counter, week-old leftovers in need of throwing away or dishes not yet moved from the dishwasher to the cupboards.

He gets called into work for an emergency on the 21st, and after running to grab groceries during the afternoon on the 22nd, he's delighted to find what he does waiting for him in the bed you share.

You're typically home from work at around seven, sometimes eight thirty on particularly busy days, and when Lawrence arrives home, it's half past eight.

He goes into your bedroom, having indeed hoped to see you there or at least get a call about work running late with the promise of more details upon your arrival at home as he enters your shared bedroom, but what he sees is so much better than anything he could've hoped for.

You're sitting on the bed, back pressed against the head board, focused on whatever romance book you'd plucked from a charity bookstore on your way home, but it's not what you're reading that Lawrence really takes note of.

No, it's not the book at all, though he does note that the title makes it seem like something from either the regency or the victorian era. It's what you're wearing.

You're wearing the shirt he wore to work the previous day, buttons undone with the cufflinks you'd gifted him for christmas the year his residency ended still holding the sleeves of the shirt together, the duvet covering your legs and hips, which makes Lawrence assume you've stolen a pair of his sweatpants in addition to the shirt.

He knocks, lightly, on the side of the door, and you startle, looking up to the source of the knock and relaxing the minute you see his face.

"You startled me," you say, grinning and closing your book over your thumb so as not to lose your place. "I remember you told me you'd be getting groceries around when I would get home, so I stole one of your shirts and settled in. Figured we could order Thai food or something to that effect, have a late dinner and relax."

Lawrence runs his tongue over his lips, notices the keen way with which you watch him do it.

"Yeah," he grins, further enters the room. "That sounds lovely. I grabbed the last of the necessary ingredients for dinner Christmas Day so that you wouldn't have to worry—I know that work has been something of a mess for you lately and I want to make sure you have the opportunity to relax when you come home."

He approaches the bed, watches you place the book you'd been reading open on your nightstand beneath the lamp.

"I don't deserve you," you laugh.

You've been dating since you were starting up with your masters a year after getting your bachelors degree when you were twenty-three and Lawrence was two years into medical school at twenty-four.

You've been married since you were twenty-five and twenty-six, and seventeen years down the line, you both knew that marrying each other was the best possible thing either of you could've done with regard to the romantic part of your lives, and while you were married you ended up doing the best possible things for your respective careers so it worked in both of your favors regardless.

You were Lawrences rock, especially so in the aftermath of the bathroom trap, and he was yours and would be such forevermore.

"You're right," he says, moving away from the bed to grab a pair of sweatpants. "You deserve more, but I do strive to be what you deserve day in and day out."

"Don't say that," you chide. "You're perfect, Lawrence. I wouldn't've married you had I thought otherwise, I promise."

He can feel your gaze on him as he slips out of the khaki pants he wears, deciding to go commando and put a pair of light gray sweatpants on for comfort. He changes out of the black button up he'd chosen to wear, pulls a baggy dark blue Henley over his torso and climbs into bed beside you, pressing kiss after kiss down the line of your jaw and across your neck.

"How stressful has work been?" He asks, tone genuine but also slightly seductive.

"Oh, so stressful," you laugh, knowing exactly what he's doing and the fact that seeing you in one of his shirts and just one of his shirts has spurred that on by a mile. "I think if I have to hear one more coworker complaining about last minute shopping during the last few days before Christmas Eve or even on Christmas Eve in and of itself, I will start causing heads to roll. December is the worst time to be in the offices because everyone stops caring about year-end quotas and making sure things are good going into next year and starts caring about whatever gossip is being spread around. It's dreadful, Lawrence."

He pauses, looking at you with genuine sympathy in his gaze. "I'm sorry—I feel gross. I didn't mean to attempt to proposition you for sex like that. I really do want to hear about your day and I'm sorry it's been so terrible, my love. Are you going to book time off?"

You grin. Lawrence is ever-so considerate, always apologizing and stepping back if he's done something in a way that he doesn't appreciate midway through.

"You're going to be stuck with me from tomorrow through to the second," you say. "And—for the record, I didn't hate it. I like it when you proposition me for sex with kisses because your kisses are quite honestly one of the best parts of being married to you. Plus, I have had a stressful month and I won't lie and say that my current outfitting was just for comfort. Sure, bare ass on satin sheets is an amazing feeling, but I was hoping that I'd get the reaction I did, admittedly."

Lawrence tilts his head inquisitively. "You're not—you're—I thought you'd taken a pair of my sweatpants," he grins, moves a hand to your thigh. Sure enough, it's bare. "Oh, Christmas must've come early."

You laugh. "You fuckin' wish," you say, ignoring the goosebumps that Lawrences touch brings on.

You unbutton the few buttons done up on the shirt, press your back against the headboard.

"Stressful month, yeah baby?" Lawrence is almost beaming as his hand moves from your thigh to your stomach, lazily perusing up your chest.

You clench your jaw, squeeze your arms against your sides because you are not going to give in to your handsome husband and his illustrious whims just with a few touches and some whispered sentiments.

"So stressful, Lawrence," you nod. "So, so stressful."

"Do you need a way to destress?" His thumb and first finger locate your nipple, and you exhale a breathy moan, quiet and already wanting to give in to his whims. "If you do, I think I could be of assistance."

"Lawrence," you moan, quiet and needy. "Oh, fuck, Lawrence."

Lawrence moves his hand away from you for a second, only to take off his shirt and the sweatpants he wears before he's back to kissing your neck and letting his hands roam across your chest.

A few minutes of much the same passes by, Lawrences kisses lining your neck and jawline and face and your ethereal lips while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. His hand dips to your folds for just a few minutes, taking your slick onto his fingers and laughing against your shoulder.

"You're so wet for me already," he says. "Fuck, you're perfect."

"Wanna ride you," you're almost stunned at how evenly the words fall from your lips but not at all stunned when Lawrence agrees.

He pulls you onto his lap, lets you grind against his half-hard cock until it's fully hard and you're begging to feel him inside of you and moans when you bottom out, gaze watching you intently as his hands settle on your hips.

"Lawrence," you whisper. "Fuck."

A smile spreads onto Lawrences face before he can stop it, and when you start riding him, he presses his back against the headboard, one hand on your hip while the other lightly holds your chin so as to keep your gaze on his.

You get lost in how good it feels within the space of a minute, maybe two—Lawrence's cock is long and thick, and even if riding it takes some adjusting occasionally, it still becomes very enjoyable very quickly.

"You're so wonderful for me, Y/N," he says. "Oh, this never gets old."

He's loving how you feel around him, clenching occasionally and moaning after a particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot, and you're just—it's just perfect.

And then, Lawrence gets an idea. He moves the hand that's cupping your face to your wrist, which is attached to the hand that you use to grope relentlessly at yourself, rolling your nipples between your thumb and first finger, sometimes moving to rub your clit.

"The cufflinks, baby," he says. "Don't touch yourself, mm? Use those for me."

He watches you press the cold silver cufflink against one of your nipples, moans as you clench around him at the sensation of the cold meeting your warm skin. You moan in turn, pressing the metal against your nipples and moaning his name.

He moves a hand back to your chin, placing his first and middle finger against your bottom lip. You take the hint immediately and bring his fingers into your mouth, grinding down onto him as you do.

"You're so good for me, pet," he says, moving the hand that rests on your hip to your clit. He starts rubbing it with practiced expertise, knowing the way you like it best after nearly two decades of marriage. "Oh, this is amazing. You can steal my work shirts whenever you want, okay? Especially the ones with the cufflinks. You're amazing."

You moan at the praise, pressing the cufflinks against yourself further, loving the way that the metal feels against your sensitive nipples.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and goes back to holding your chin so as to keep your gaze on his, wanting to watch you orgasm.

You come completely undone when Lawrence speeds up his ministrations on your clit just enough to make you want more, and Lawrence watches.

You thrust your way through the aftershocks, at which point Lawrence releases into you and lets your chin free from his light grip, kissing you and offering praise as he does.

He pulls you off of him and gets a bath set up, helping you into it while giving you more praise and pressing kisses along the back of your neck and shoulder blades because the orgasm had left you both completely and totally breathless.

You bathe in light conversation, once again talking about your days but focusing on the more positive parts, and Lawrence lets you steal a Henley from the days of medical school. You pull a pair of boxers on and curl up in bed next to him, falling asleep only seconds before Lawrence does.

#lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon x reader #saw 2004 #saw franchise

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voxofthevoid · 5 months

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JJK Fic Timeline: 2nd Update

As the post-236 time travel fic has been completed, I've updated my JJK fic timeline:

Close-ups:

The last timeline can be found here.

Since it'd be a little odd to publish a post-236 fic in...another year, I bumped it up the queue. It'll take baby blue's slot in January, assuming nothing interrupts. This has pushed back the posting and finishing dates of the Amnesia Fic, Drunken Dubcon, and the Train Groping Fic. The others remain unchanged.

The fics are, in order,

there’s a lover in the story (but the story’s still the same): deaged!Gojou series

baby blue, they paid you to take my youth and use it up: role reversal a/b/o

everything burned, as promised: post-236 time travel tragedy

the ghost in me was true (but you were haunted too): amnesiac!Yuuji fic

(let me be clear) every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered: the kidnapping fic

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told: time travel threesome

your resistance, prophetic self-destruction: post-Shibuya chosoita+goyuu

your body language on me tells me to be unholy: train groping fic

break my patience, corrupt my sacred art: drunken dubcon

#posting schedule #jjk projected timeline #goyuu #my fic

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orion-lake · 4 months

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Happy 2024! I hope you all have been celeb rating or at least enjoying the holiday season.

I wanted to shoutout my favourite posts from 2023 - that just means I reblogged them during 2023 and I like them.... ALOT!

You may have seen the posts I do monthly, I am going to continue to do so and I released the December one yesterday, you can find it here.

I scrolled through all my posts (archive...shhh!) to find my absolute favourites from this year. I am sorry if I missed you....I reblog a lot of content and I have about 400+ in my current queue. I can't wait to see what next year has in store because I am sure I won't remember a lot of what I have queued up for us all.

If you would like to draw my attention to any posts your create. feel free to tag me #usernae.

I want to say thank you to my fellow content creators that make this site such a joy to be on, and be in awe of. You are all crazy talented and I am always surprised by the style, concepts, and skill so many of you display.

But mostly, thank you for all the time you put into making these creations - I want to acknowledge the effort and resources put into this kind of fan art and content creation.

To get the show on the way...

(P.S. some of these posts have reblogs/likes so low it is criminal - have a look through these posts and show them some love.)

Please find all of my favourite posts from 2023 below the cut.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS | January 19, 1981 by @spuffygifs

ORANGE & PINK + ENID SINCLAIR by @rainbowgifs

yeah i bruise easily. by @ayoedebiris

↳ wednesday & enid in gets so uptight for @enidsniclair by @yenvengerberg

HAPPY 33RD BIRTHDAY TAYLOR ALISON SWIFT by @breakableheavens

And I will not be afraid of your scars… by @scullys

TOP 2022 SHIPS AS VOTED BY MY FOLLOWERS ↳ 2. Wenclair (Wednesday) by @arabellas

@lgbtqcreators creator bingo • typography by @toplines

—Arabella, Arctic Monkeys by @userblorbo

Morgana Pendragon | Merlin by @cinematv

↳ margaret tudor & mary tudor + parallels by @cesareeborgia

↳ RACHEL WEISZ LETTERBOXD by @rosamndpike

Favourite costume 🎪 Circus Ringmaster 🎪 by @antoniosvivaldi

My world only makes sense since you’ve come into it. by @edwinadaily

Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) event: Favourite Speak Now Vault Track by @antoniosvivaldi

🎀 SEX METAL BARBIE 🎀 In This Moment #MetalMonday (ins.po) by @x--daughters-of-darkness--x

ICanSeeYou(Kanthony’sVersion) by @chrrispine

YELLOWJACKETSAPPRECIATIONWEEK | favorite dynamic by @saws2004

BRIDGERTON LADIES APPRECIATION WEEK DAY ONE: FAVOURITE CHARACTER ↳ CLAUDIA JESSIE AS ELOISE BRIDGERTON by @candicepatton

BRIDGERTON LADIES APPRECIATION WEEK 2023 ↪ Day One: Favourite Character(s) by @snikkts

@pscentral event 03: team colors ↳ Kathani “Kate” Sharma-Bridgerton + Orange 🧡 by @cal-kestis

#favs post #favourites post

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poupeesdecirque · 12 days

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Posting by Queue, or: why I need some distance from my crafts

It has been some time since my last hobby meta blog entry, it had different reasons and one is that I need distance. Like, yes I of course enjoy crafting and sometimes I am like a little child that runs everywhere to show off things.

But it got ... less intense. And I learned I do better when I keep projects or at least details to myself to sit on them for longer. That the first euphoria is purely mine and not to be shared.

Like for my photos I have a buffer of several weeks now. Yes, I know past-me would have kind of hated that. But I learned I do better when I have a time buffer. I do take photos weekly but sometimes they don't feel special enough to get the weekly photo feature?

Friday & yesterday I went out for photos and while I like the ones from yesterday way more than the ones from friday I am not sure if the set from yesterday will get the feature or not as it's only a hand full of photos giving me that certain spark.

Other than that I am a very emotional artist, I sometimes really fuck up my art and hate it at the moment I worked on it, but then, sometimes, after a few days or weeks I can look at it and just wonder about what was my problem the day I made it.

Another thing is that I, myself, enjoy my art. The process of it. And I like to see my blog updating, sometimes I forget what post will go online and then I check the blog and think "ah yes, this was that thing!", and it reminds me why I made the blog overall, to show myself I had progress and that every tiny step counts.

Which leads to another reason why I hold back in regards of posting. Yes, I do share some snippets in my stories over on insta but not always and not all. I sit on over 300 drawings from the last two years alone nobody ever will see, I enjoyed drawing but it's nothing for the public eye. I will maybe go back and redraw some and share the redraws then, who knows?

But wait, there is actually more reasons.

The biggest or main reason is ... i sometimes go really wild on projects. In January I finished so many dolls it was insane, I worked on Cosplays and other crafts in an incredible speed, I have literally no idea where I found the time but I somehow did and doll parts arriving every week did the rest.

I keep the blog running with partially 2 month old stuff but .... to be honest I don't have doll stuff aside photos to do anymore. All I can do is wait for bodies to be shipped (or dolls even) and arrive. There has been no movement since January. Aside Iza getting the shipping notice for our Split, might take a while until its at her place and I can't really start on the Akuma until I got the body (which I at least have finally ordered this month) as colors need to be matched and mods to be made.

I am truly itchy to do something else than sewing all the time, I do enjoy cosplay but you know how much I like sewing (hint: not at all). So to remind myself of the fun I had in the past weeks I have mixed my blog to bless me with some progress I had which was maybe not sewing all the time. And well, the Cosplays have deadlines and I do get some ideas aside purely sewing while doing them, so that keeps me going for now.

Yes, I could start redoing dolls like Alastor or Erwin. But you know what? IT'S ALMOST ALL SEWING. Urgh.

Aside that real life is pretty good at eating me up and I just want to enjoy crafting. Right now drawing feels like stress relief but I hate the results and just scan the pieces and put them away to never look at them again, I have a bunch of posts queued up without any captions, a wip entry of a current project only has two photos but I lack the spoons to actually get them done. But since those posts are so far back it's fine (yes I know drafts are a thing).

In general I enjoy having my art to myself to get used to it before I put it out into the wild as I just recently got reminded I do bad with direct comparisons still and it hits some triggerpoints from the past and makes everything harder, I don't need that.

I literally have no idea if this blog makes sense even, lol. I just am tired of sewing and stopped working on my current project around lunch time and have drawn so much today and I walked way too much the whole week my friends urged me to stay the ef home and at least try to relax. But I'm restless as my body is too stressed (I know it all I'm a certified relaxation trainer so eh), so, have an over the place blog entry.

#blog #hobby meta #or something like that #idk

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demonichikikomori · 6 months

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We made it! Yippee! Thank you everyone for this milestone, I'm feeling super happy about it hehe. It's a nice gift to wake up to. I promised to do a face reveal but I want to see if I can hand over an old selfie instead. I do have some updates to give since I see it as an appropriate time to share and they'll be below the cut!

But before that, I want to say thank you again. I really wouldn't be much without you guys haha.

What happens @ 600 followers?:

Well, I’m not doing an event until 666 followers (Badum tss) but a while ago I did promise a face reveal so behold:

An extremely edited photo of me from about a year ago before I had my apartment. This, is 20 year old me in my grandma's basement... In a maid dress... Drinking a bang energy in front of my PC set up... (I still own my maid dress if anyone needs me to clean their house for them) I am in fact a REAL PERSON! Behold me. I won’t do a proper face reveal until I’m a little happier with myself as I am dealing with a lot of mental issues as of recent.

What’s going on?:

To make a long story short; I just got laid off at my job and I have to move in January. I do have some requests in queue and I am going to be on and offline as I look for a job and get unemployment for the time being. They said they will bring me back January 1st but they forget I am an adult with no support from my parents so I need to work to live. I won't be taking commissions as I cannot live off of those and again due to mental issues I have been having my production times for my commissions has gotten increasingly slow over the past year. I cannot complete them in a timely manner to keep my head above water. My last check will go towards rent and I NEED a job by next week as I need to save for my deposit in January for my new apartment (1,000 dollars) and I need to pay my last bill of the month (40.55 in consumers haha).

I am moving in January because me and my little sister agreed we would live together for a year and then live on our own. So, we're in the same neighborhood but our own apartment so if we need each other we're still close. Our lease is over on the 27th of January so I need to get all the money I have so I can be prepared. It's crunch time! I don't want to ask for charity, but I do want to express that my inbox will be staying closed so I can focus on adulting.

As you can see, I queue my posts like this so I always appear active online when the truth is: I'm probably sleeping/at work/writing/ect. I have the persona of a chronically online hikikomori, but the truth is I'm just a depressed person haha.

What about January?:

By January I won't plan to move for a long time as the rent is very cheap and the building allows smokers which is a big bonus for me. The usual response is; why don't you quit smoking?

Do you know how hard and expensive that is? Kicking a bad habit is hard enough, but doing that for the sake of HOUSING is not a good reason to quit. My survival shouldn't have anything to do with that. And also... The non smoking apartments are very boujiee and I don't like those kinds of uppity neighborhoods. I seek comfort in familiar and more impoverished areas. And again, dirt cheap rent. I'll be offline for the first few weeks of January and working on moving into my new apartment and I'll be updating you guys once I do! I can't use my PC since... Well, I gotta cut my internet off before I move haha. And my consumers the day of so they can turn my lights on at my other place. I am very excited that I have a new spot and I need to just get my deposit, and I'll deal with rent when I get to it along with all my other bills. I'm anxious and excited for the future. And with enough hard work I can strive towards a getting a small house.

But with the economy? ... Let's stick with an apartment. <3

Thank you for reading. And as always,

The Devil Loves You!

#demonic. milestone #thank you 600

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goddess-perfectheart-cooks · 2 months

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DO NOT JOIN THE OFA DISCORD SERVER RIGHT NOW!

Recently, there was a raid on the server whereas two accounts joined and spread NSFW, racist memes in every channel. This has revealed some quite shocking information...

(TLDR: the mods suck and allowed NSFW memes to be posted in every channel due to their lack of security features, of which have stayed in such a state for a long time. And there has been no confirmation that security is now in place. There's more down here, but that's the most important info)

DO NOT HARASS ANYONE DOWN BELOW! Those who might be undue hot water by being here have been censored in the posts that would land them in such water (out of context bad).

THE SERVER LACKED BASIC SECURITY!

And it is unconfirmed whether it still has no security, as the mods and server owner have not made any statements regarding the security of their server in the announcements channel, OR stated that the changes called for in those screenshots and suggested by me are in effect.

They have had more than a MONTH to account for the fact their server is now decently large. I know this as I joined back in January, whereas I was the 63rd person there:

And this is the raiders. Note the lack of a substantial net-gain in people there.

This habitual lassitude expressed by the mods, of which as not changed since this incident which happened MORE THAN 6 MONTHS AGO. The TLDR is that they allowed a LOT of fucked up shit to occur in their server, such as letting an underage, drunk minor stir up trouble in general chat, and allowing shitty behavior to happen without punishing the perpetrator, NUMEROUS TIMES.

This still happens by the way:

I needed to personally complain to the server owner for them to actually DO modding stuff, of which they needed to as someone broke rule #10 pretty badly. This was done by someone ALMOST A DAY PRIOR and of whom is a repeat offender.

The person who was weirding me out was trying to rizz up a character of mine, SCP-6709, of whom is 33. They are a minor, and obviously, that's weird to try and do that to someone you know is roleplaying as an adult. Even more so to continue advancing when the "character" repeatedly denies you.

Bottom line, the mods and server owner let this go, either cuz they never saw it, or they didn't care to do anything about it. They almost NEVER check the chats they're in charge of regulating.

"Why didn't you ping the mods?" Bro was my pal at the time and I thought I could quell the situation without them. Also, the mods SHOULD already be at least checking general occasionally to see if anyone broke any rules, aka these:

Also, more about them being slow considering the size of their server:

They said they need more mods. They HAVE people in queue with the applications, but they just WON'T FUCKING FINALIZE ANYTHING! I get they have lives outside of discord, but this is just ludicrous:

I think I got my point across. The Omori Food Administration server is unfit to keep the numerous minors there safe and out of automated terrorism's way. I suggest everyone there not check the OFA discord server if they're highly sensitive to the content seen during the raid, or drama in general, until the management fixes their situation. They know all they need to do.

This warning especially goes out to those who I know are in the server, such as @dreamybasil, @kelscandyflakes, @eway4, @supbreak20, @basilgamez, and the runner of @the-voice-of-reason-ofa.

Until the situation is resolved, I encourage all Omori Food Administration blog owners to not link the discord server.

@deathbylag2 if this makes this blog illegitimate, so be it.

#omori food administration #perfectheart the best #perfectheart omori #omori ask blog #perfectheart's divine tapestry #omori perfectheart

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dimpledpran · 1 year

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2022 brought a lot of incredible moments. But it did give almost an equal amount of highs and lows. So glad that it is over, and here’s to hoping that 2023 brings nothing but the best. Thank you to everyone who has made this past year more bearable for me. Whether you are someone I’ve talked to on here, made content that I enjoyed seeing on my dash, or reblogged stuff from me with wonderful commentary, thank you for making my time on this godforsaken beloved website more fun!

Since life has been getting busy, it has been harder to keep track of content and I am sure I have missed so many creations lately. And so, I am also jumping on the bandwagon to have a tracking tag. I will be tracking #lightmiup (light me up). It is kinda a play on my name, and with the meaning since my name means light. So feel free to use that to tag me in your creations.

Will reblog: ~ Asian media (series and movies). Mostly BLs, but not entirely limited to that. ~Preferably stuff that I have watched, but I am also open to more recs ~ Asian artists (mostly CQL cast, Ohm, Nanon, Jeff Satur, Indian personalities) ~ Countries: Thailand, India, China, South Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Singapore

Will not reblog: ~ reposts, whitewashed content, brownfaced content, discourse

With that, I am also going to take a month off from Tumblr. Shall spend January introspecting and planning out my goals for the year. My blog will be going down memory lane, and will run on queue with my fave posts from 2022, and if I get tagged in stuff. Though I might pop in a few times with some 10YT sets if the feels get a bit too much.

Here are my top 10 series/movies I watched in 2022 (starts from tomorrow) and Fave Creations (MDZS/CQL Faves , Bad Buddy Faves, Other Faves) in the mean time.

Wishing everyone a wonderful 2023 filled with lots of love, joy, peace, positivity, success and good health! 💙

Take care and see yall around! Mimi :)

Tagging a few people to spread the word : @aheartfullofjolllly @carloslouwho @eohachu @fangrui @gege @highwarlockkareena @i-got-the-feels @isvisomewhere @kaajukatli @lan-xichens @liyazaki @machikeita @manhasetardis @nanons @nongnaos @nyx4 @oswlld @phukaoapologist @rinielle @talays-portkey @seawherethesunsets @yibo-wang @yilinglaozu

#not sure how well the tracking tag will work but giving it a go #once again thank you to everyone and happy new year!!#mine #2022 recap

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thetomorrowshow · 1 year

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every hand’s a winner

trust au masterlist - previous

I COME BEARING FLUFF.

also a little note: due to personal reasons, i will be stepping away from social media for an unforeseeable amount of time. because of this, fics/updates will be posted once a month on the second tuesday either until i get back or until they run out. for january expect some esh au, and the next part of hubris in february :) additionally, my queue will be posting every other day either until i get back or until my queue runs dry (unlikely, as there are close to 300 posts in it lol).

forget all that, though!!! bc i have some people being happy for you!

cw: blood and injuries

Scott goes home that very evening, like most of the other emperors—bar Jimmy, who is slated to stay overnight in the infirmary. They’d tried to keep Scott as well, fussing over his bloody nose and torn skin, but he’d promised to check in with the Rivendell healers at home to make sure time in the Void of the End won’t seriously affect him.

For once in his life, Scott willingly goes to the Rivendell infirmary, leaving with a couple of bandages and instructions to write down any strange symptoms.

The thing is, nobody has ever fallen into the Void before—let alone the one in the End—so there’s no way of knowing what might happen further down the road. Scott’s an anomaly of sorts, and it looks like he’s now the subject of a medical study.

He hasn’t noticed anything apart from a slight lingering dizziness, so he writes that down, feeling somewhat stupid about it being the only symptom he has to report, especially when that could be caused by a myriad of other things. It’s not like he’s never been dizzy before. He practically didn’t stop being dizzy back before he figured out how to sleep.

That night, he luckily doesn’t have to deal with his insomnia—he’s up until the sun rises meeting with various advisory groups: working out the best way to lock down Rivendell whilst still keeping trade routes open, mobilizing the layman army, and deciding how to go forward with various declarations of support for other empires. Within the night, four different ambassadors turn up to arrange an alliance, and Scott knows that his fellow emperors are awake dealing with the same things.

He doesn’t get a moment alone until well into the next day, after he has to send out a formal announcement that his and the Codfather’s betrothal is postponed until after the war (if Jimmy still wants such a relationship, of course). He can tell that many of his advisors don’t necessarily agree with this decision, but they recognize the direness of the situation (and Ilphas, Aeor bless them, defends Scott’s choice with a fervor), and allow the postponement to occur.

It’s past four in the afternoon before he finally has a moment to relax, kicking off his boots and bathing before changing from the travel clothes that he’s been wearing for almost two days straight into something clean. The sight of Jimmy’s robes in the closet next to his almost makes him cry for some reason, but he pushes past them to the back to dig out a pair of hose and a skirt, tucking an embroidered but comfortable tunic into them.

He can’t sleep.

Several months have passed since the torture of fWhip’s basement, his wounds entirely healed, but he can’t quite convince himself he’s safe to sleep alone. He really thought he’d be over it by now.

It’s no use trying, of course—after so many long hours, he doesn’t want to risk a panic attack. Instead, Scott lies in bed and just breathes, trying not to think about all the war preparations that he’s just spent hours making.

He also tries not to think about Jimmy.

That’s a whole other issue to deal with.

For a couple of minutes, he’s able to lie there in peace, shutting down any thought as soon as it breaches his mind.

Then his bedroom door opens.

Scott sits up, ready to reprimand whatever servant is entering—he’s in his private quarters, he could be without his veil—but he’s not meant to have a veil anymore, is he—

It doesn’t matter anyways, because it isn’t a servant at the door.

It’s Jimmy.

“Hey,” Jimmy waves awkwardly, slipping in and shutting the door behind him. “How—how’re you?”

Jimmy looks terrible.

Well, he looks beautiful, as per usual, but his fall through the Void has certainly taken its toll. There are bags under his eyes, his hair greasy and limp, and he walks with an unsteadiness that tells Scott he’s been experiencing the same dizziness. Most notably, his face isn’t bandaged anymore.

It had been hard to see in the End, when Jimmy’s face was pretty fairly just a mess of blood, and impossible to see when there had been bandages plastered on half his face, but it’s clear now that Jimmy’s lost almost all of the scales on his face.

They had run in patches up from his throat to the line of his jaw on both sides, some speckling across his cheeks and a handful clustered around both his mouth and eyes. Scott had always found them gorgeous, little sparkling jewels on his face that truly brought out the flecks of green in his eyes. Now there’s maybe three around his eyes, ten total over the entirety of his face. In place of all the missing scales is torn skin and scabs, blood shining on his jaw from where the scabs have split.

Scott feels a little sick looking at it. Jimmy’s throat is still wrapped in bandages, and he can see some tied around his hands, so he can only guess at how many are missing across the entirety of his body.

He’s not sure why the dressings are gone from his face, but those wounds look ripe for infection. They shouldn’t just be out in the open.

“Jimmy, where have your bandages gone?” he asks instead of replying, swinging out of bed. “You need new ones, come here.”

Jimmy follows him into the washroom that leads off from what was once their joint sitting room, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his sleeves. “They made me take them off at the door,” he explains. “To make sure it’s me, and all. It looks pretty gross, I know.”

“No, it’s not—it’s—I don’t want them getting infected, is all it is,” Scott says absentmindedly, digging through his healing chest for the proper materials. He finds a basket of bandages and a roll of gauze, which he removes and sets to the side. His hands pauses over a regen potion, glancing uncertainly at Jimmy.

Jimmy shakes his head. “No potions, doctor’s orders,” he says. “They’re afraid it won’t . . . grow back right. It’s a wait-and-see thing at the minute.”

Scott passes over the regen and the health potions, landing instead on some disinfectant ointment. He closes the chest and gestures for Jimmy to sit on it, turns away to wash his hands before twisting open the ointment.

Jimmy doesn’t sit still as he applies it, jiggling his knee and wincing and pulling back every time Scott touches him. His injuries must really hurt, then—Scott’s being as gentle as he can, barely touching his cheeks as he rubs the ointment in.

“Sorry,” he murmurs when he cleans a particularly ugly patch and Jimmy actually cries out a bit. Jimmy shakes his head, face twisted into a lopsided grimace.

“It’s fine,” he grits out. “Thanks.”

Well, it’s not as if Scott was going to let Jimmy patch himself up. He’s not sure what he’s getting thanked for.

He finishes up quickly and efficiently, hesitating at his mouth and eyes. The bandages are too blocky to work with the curves there, so he tears one up and uses the pieces to line any awkward spots.

Jimmy really doesn’t look any better once he’s done, covered in so many bits and pieces of bandages that barely any skin is showing. He forces a smile anyhow, shows Jimmy his reflection in the mirror.

Jimmy stares at himself for a long moment. “I’d laugh if I could move my mouth that much,” he comments, and the smile on Scott’s lips becomes just a bit more real. He’s making jokes. That’s got to be good.

Then Jimmy takes one of his hands, and Scott’s heart skips a beat.

“What’s this?”

Scott follows his gaze down to his hands—Scott’s knuckles have similar bandages wrapped around them.

“Same as you,” he says, flexing his wrists. “I escaped with just losing a bit of skin, fortunately.”

Jimmy nods. “Right. Scales—on a fish, perfect protection. Bit weak when you combine it with normal skin. It—it makes sense.”

“And you were in there for longer,” Scott adds. Jimmy shrugs, looking away and down. Every which way, except for back at him.

Scott leads the way back into the sitting room, gestures for Jimmy to take a seat on the sofa (it’s his favorite spot, Scott knows, the velvet of that left cushion still brushed back weird from when he’d been sitting there last). Scott almost sits in his preferred armchair, but makes a last-minute decision to sit beside Jimmy on the sofa.

They’re quiet for a moment, and it isn’t a gentle quiet, nor a comfortable one. It’s awkward, filled with tension, and Scott’s certain they keep looking at each other but never managing to catch one another’s eyes.

He’s got to say something, but all he can think about is Jimmy’s exhausted eyes, love confessions falling from bloodstained lips, impulsive kisses and a slippery grasp on his lover’s bleeding face.

He has to say something.

But Jimmy speaks first.

“I really like you,” Jimmy says, looking away, and Scott takes the moment to gaze at him, truly take in the fatigue lining his face and the droopiness of his eyelids. “I didn’t—I have for a while. Months, really. Ever since . . . I don’t know when. I just—well, I tried, that one time—” he grimaces— “I just . . . I didn’t feel worthy, I suppose, of you. You’re—Scott, you’re so perfect, always all put-together and—and rescue-y and everything, and I’m just . . . me. Gosh, I’m sorry for rambling—I really just meant to say that I like you and—and I kinda hope you like me too.”

Scott blinks.

If his heart flipped when Jimmy took his hand earlier, it’s positively doing cartwheels now.

Jimmy likes him.

And apparently, all that pining was for waste because he could’ve confessed this whole time and Jimmy would’ve reciprocated.

Scott can’t help it: he laughs. Just a little, a giggle that slips out accidentally, but it’s enough that Jimmy freezes and glances over at him, eyes terribly fearful.

Scott waves frantically, pushing closer to him. “No, no—I—I wasn’t laughing at you,” he’s quick to correct. “I was—Jimmy, I’ve liked you for ages, but I was so afraid of you rejecting me that I didn’t dare say anything. Just think what might have happened if we both actually used a bit of logic for once in our lives.”

Jimmy blinks. A surprised laugh bursts out, one that’s quickly stifled as Jimmy winces and covers his mouth. It’s really not funny—it must hurt to laugh, with his face in such a state—but Scott can’t help it. He laughs again, lightly punches Jimmy on the shoulder.

“Don’t laugh,” he reprimands, still laughing himself. “You’ll start bleeding again, and we can’t have that.”

Jimmy clearly can’t help it, his shoulders shaking as he struggles to not even smile. Scott’s smiling too, he’s gazing at Jimmy beside him as he tries not to laugh and. . . .

He’s really in love, huh? Because Jimmy’s always shone like a star, he’s always been so breathtakingly beautiful, but he’s somehow so much more so now that he’s his. Now, Scott gazes at him, wave after wave of glory hitting him like waves of heat from the sun.

He’s in love, and it’s wonderful.

“Um,�� Jimmy says after a moment, and Scott realizes that not only is he staring at Jimmy, but Jimmy is staring right back.

“Sorry—” he starts to say, looking down at his hands, but Jimmy interrupts him.

“I actually—I know you’re busy, with . . . with everything going on, and I am too, but if you wanted to just have one night before all that? I’d still like to—to go stargazing with you.”

It’s wartimes. He only has the one night to offer Jimmy, and no promises for the future.

Scott smiles. “I would be honored.”

There’s no snow on the ground where they pick to stargaze, a stone shelf in the side of the mountain that Scott’s lain on many times past. He spreads out three blankets on top of one another and leaves a fourth bundled to the side, in case the air gets too chill.

Jimmy splays out immediately, just like how he’s always first in bed—an incredibly intimate thing for Scott to know, and something inside him seems to almost purr at the realization. Jimmy is his, and he is Jimmy’s (at least for tonight).

Scott eases himself down next to him—his lover, Jimmy’s his lover—and, in a split-second decision, shifts a bit closer so that their hips touch.

Jimmy doesn’t move away.

Scott’s heart flips a little.

Exor’s hooves, you’re acting like a teenager, he tells himself. You like him, and he likes you. Just—be normal.

He can’t be normal. There is no way he can be normal.

The world around them has been gradually growing dark the entire time they spent hiking up to here and setting up, and now it’s dark enough that Scott can barely see Jimmy’s face.

He hadn’t been able to see Jimmy’s face then, either.

He’d seen him fall.

Scott had just caught sight of it as he regained his sense of balance from the End portal. He’d looked up to find an unfamiliar island, the world surrounded by the darkness of the void, and on the other side of the island—

Even from that distance, Scott could tell that Jimmy’s fall was the most graceful he’d ever seen.

He spread his wings and took off without a second thought, abandoning the others who followed him through the portal.

He had to try. He had to.

He’d passed fWhip, who was laughing—who tried to grab him—as he went over the edge of the island.

And then, wings pulled tight to his body, nose down, he dove after Jimmy.

“Scott?”

He blinks, looks around. Jimmy’s at his side now, head propped up on his arm. Jimmy quirks an eyebrow, still barely visible. “You good? You kind of zoned out for a second there.”

Scott blinks again, looks up. The stars are starting to twinkle into vision, bright and lively, and Scott almost waves up to them.

Perhaps Jimmy doesn’t know much about elven beliefs, doesn’t know the significance of the stars. He doesn’t know that Scott could point out a dozen or two elven legends and heroes—Gelidrian, Calireth, Alinar. And others, more mundane—his parents, the nurse who had raised him, the palace guard from a mere two decades ago.

Someday, Scott knows he will join them all. Hopefully not any day soon.

“Whoa,” Jimmy whispers. Scott glances over at him, his face illuminated by the exaltation of elves. One of his hands is raised slightly. “They're so close.”

“They really are.”

They watch in silence for a while, more and more bundles of light appearing in the sky. When the entirety of the Stags is visible and bright, Scott points it out, taking Jimmy’s hand (his heart jumps, Jimmy’s his lover) to trace his fingers down the lines of stars.

“That’s the Clash of the Stags,” Scott tells him, tracing it over again. “On the left is Aeor, see His antler?”

“That’s your god, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s Aeor.” Scott smiles just a little bit—somehow, every time Jimmy knows something about elven history, it makes him ten times more attractive. “And then below Him and to the right is Exor, His brother.”

“I’ve heard you say his name before. Is he your god, too?”

Scott can’t help but snort. “No. Exor may be Aeor’s brother, but they don’t get along. Exor was cruel, controlled those under his domain, sacrificed the weak and oppressed the followers of Aeor. Aeor, meanwhile, ruled with kindness and respect, befitting of the last remaining gods.”

“What happened to the others?” Jimmy asks. “There are others, aren’t there?”

“Yes, we believe so. I’m sure you’ve heard Pix mention the Great Slumber?”

Jimmy nods, the movement scrunching up Scott’s sleeve. Jimmy’s so close to him, close enough that Scott can feel his every twitch and breath.

“Aeor and Exor were the only gods not to fall asleep. But when Exor became corrupted, jealous of his brother’s rule, Aeor knew He had to do something about it. So He gathered all His power and wielded it in a mighty battle against Exor—the Clash of the Stags. See how Aeor is kicking Exor down?”

Jimmy nods again. The nerves in Scott’s arm are tingling at his every touch, and he has to take a moment to swallow back the squeak that threatens to break his voice. “Um. Aeor used everything He had to seal Exor and his followers within a mountain forever,” he says, thankfully with no cracks. “Then He withdrew from the people, still hearing their prayers and granting small blessings, but separate from them. He lost much of His power in that fight, and has spent many thousands of years resting and caring for us—as any god should.”

Jimmy’s silent then, and when Scott looks over at him, he’s staring up at the sky, eyes flicking from point to point. Scott doesn’t look away, and while Jimmy’s eyes trace the stars, Scott’s eyes trace Jimmy’s face.

In the dark with the stars as their only light, the raw patches around his mouth and eyes that they hadn’t been able to bandage are invisible. The lines of exhaustion are impossible to see, as are the shadows Scott knows ring his eyes.

Instead, Scott sees the way his nose twitches. He sees long eyelashes that flutter gently. He sees golden hair that’s starting to curl around the gills, long in a way Scott’s never seen it. He sees lips that move soundlessly, lips that are looking more and more kissable by the second.

“There,” Jimmy says, and Scott pulls himself out of his reverie to follow Jimmy’s finger. Scott squints up at the sky as Jimmy traces a triangle shape out of the stars.

“That can be the mountain,” Jimmy says, sounding proud of himself. “The one that Aeor trapped them in. Do you guys know where that mountain is?”

Scott giggles a little—he can’t help it, it has to be a crime to be so cute—and traces along Jimmy’s triangle as well. It’s part of another constellation, he realizes after a moment—the Crystal of Rivendell, made up of stars of rulers who have passed on. “The mountain probably wasn’t real, Jimmy. Rivendell scholars have searched for it for literal ages, and they’ve not found evidence of it yet. Besides, I find it hard to believe that a mountain could entrap a god.”

“It was a magical mountain, you said so,” Jimmy says stubbornly. “Aeor sealed it. And I think it would be a great idea—some mountains are older than the ocean, you know, surely they have some sort of power.”

“Well, when you fight a god, trap him in a mountain and let me know how it goes.”

Jimmy laughs too, then cuts off abruptly as a cold gust of wind blows over them. He shivers, shifts close enough to Scott that he’s practically curled up in Scott’s side, head resting on his shoulder.

Scott’s certain that his heart actually stops.

Which is stupid, because—because they’ve done this before! Almost every morning, Scott wakes up pressed into Jimmy, and it’s fine. Well, it’s nerve-wracking and overwhelming and suffocating, but it’s been weeks since he last blushed and apologized, and much longer since he stopped pretending that Jimmy isn’t a very physically affectionate person. Romantic intentions or not (and now, in retrospect, Scott knows that most of them likely were romantic in some way and isn’t that something), Jimmy hugs him or leans on his shoulder on a near daily basis. This isn’t anything new.

Somehow, though, it’s the strangest sensation he’s ever known.

He’s been quiet for some time, he realizes suddenly, and before he even knows what to say he’s blurting out, “What’s your favorite constellation?”

Jimmy jerks a little bit. “What?”

“I—that’s how it started, isn’t it?” Scott says, and he just knows he’s paler than the stars right now. “You asked me what my favorite constellation is. Which one’s yours?”

Jimmy doesn’t answer immediately, pulling back a bit to gaze up at the stars properly. After a few moments, he takes Scott’s hand (the hairs on his arm stand up) and guides him up, much further to the left than the Stags. There, he traces out a strange shape—almost a lopsided rectangle, but with five sides.

Below it are two stars that are very familiar to Scott, he realizes with a jolt—

Staying up late every night—he’s just a child, he ought to be in bed, but instead he creeps over to the window and looks up at the stars.

His nurse had taught him to make a wish on the point of Aeor’s antler, and if the God was willing, his wish might come true. Scott can’t really remember where it is most of time, but he can always find those two bright stars to wish on—and that way, he would get two wishes!

He wishes twice for himself, or sometimes he uses one for Xornoth, or sometimes he uses one for his parents.

Most of the time, though, he wishes twice for himself—and he wishes for a friend.

Jimmy traces it again, the soft bandages on his knuckles rubbing against Scott’s matching set. “That one. That’s my favorite.”

“What is it?”

Jimmy’s hand falls to his side, almost in slow motion. “I don’t know,” he says, and there’s something wistful in his voice, something terribly sad. “But it feels like home.”

It gets too cold to stargaze, so Scott packs everything up and helps Jimmy back to the palace, flying in through his window so as not to get caught out by the guards.

And sure, it may be the beginning of the end of the world, war hovering over them like the executioner’s axe, but Scott can’t stop giggling. He and Jimmy are sneaking around like teenagers, trying to not be seen as they clamber in through his window. It’s so very cliche that he can’t help but enjoy it, can’t help but be entirely wrapped in the feeling of new love.

They both collapse onto Scott’s bed, both laughing, even though Jimmy’s covering his mouth and wincing like it hurts. He doesn’t stop, though, eyes sparkling as he snickers.

“The funny thing—the funniest part is, it’s not even funny,” Scott gasps out, and it isn’t—he thinks they’re more laughing because of the absurd pressure it is to sneak into a building that you belong in in the first place. It’s more stupid than anything—it would have been just fine to go in through the gates, really, but they’d decided to do it proper just for the fun of it.

Jimmy laughs harder at that, cutting himself off with a small “ouch!”. He presses his sleeve to his mouth for a moment before pulling it away, examining it for any blood. Apparently satisfied, he lets his arm fall and stretches out a bit.

“This was really good, Scott,” Jimmy says after a minute, and dear Aeor, even the way Jimmy says his name. . . .

“Can I kiss you?”

Scott blinks, sits up. Jimmy’s watching him, a blush spreading across what’s visible of his face. He almost looks just as surprised as Scott feels that those words fell from Jimmy’s mouth.

And really, props to Jimmy, because it’s not a bad idea. It’s a very good one, in Scott’s mind.

But they really need to talk about it first, don’t they?

Scott sits up, runs a hand through his hair. “I’d like to apologize, actually. For our first kiss.”

Jimmy frowns. “Yeah, I—it was sensory overload, yeah? I don’t think you need to apologize for that.”

“Wha—when did I say it was sensory overload?”

Jimmy sits up too, scoots along until he’s sitting beside Scott. “Well, I didn’t figure it out until today, actually. I sort of thought you hated me at first, but yesterday, when . . . and then again, earlier. You said—you’ve liked me this whole time, right?”

Scott nods.

“Right. Well, I figured if you did like me back then, you probably wanted to . . . do the whole kiss thing. And it’s really not like you to just run away like that. And I know you get sensory overload real bad sometimes, so. . . .”

Scott slides his hand toward Jimmy’s, loosely tangling their fingers together. It’s a conscious movement, one that sends nerves sparking up and down the very bones of his body.

It’s dangerously close to too much.

Yet it’s everything he’s wanted for so long.

“How about this,” Jimmy continues. “We—we’re . . . courting now, right? Um—that—that’s really nice to say—so how about we always ask first, before a kiss? And stuff like that. That way, neither of us is taken by surprise.”

Thrills go up and down every inch of Scott’s skin when Jimmy says that they’re courting, his breath stolen from his chest. They’re courting. They’re in a committed relationship. Jimmy is his, and he is Jimmy’s, and it’s true because Jimmy said so. It’s real.

“That—that sounds good,” he manages. He takes stock of himself—definitely on-edge, but he can handle one kiss. As long as they make sure it’s just one. And maybe if they do some pressure cuddling afterward.

“Can I kiss you?” Scott asks, his voice almost a whisper. What’s visible of Jimmy’s face under the bandages goes through a series of emotions—anxiety, enthusiasm, warmth, and then settling back on anxiety. He nods, a little uncertainly, and turns to fully face Scott, drawing his legs up criss-cross on the bed.

They’ve kissed three times before, but everything is different about this one.

There’s an awkward sort of lean-in, of course—the first and second times had been sudden, passionate, and the third filled with the thrill of survival. For this, they move slowly, telegraphing each movement carefully—akin to trying not to spook a wild stag, Scott thinks offhandedly.

And then their lips meet.

Scott’s always led kisses in past relationships, his lips slotted above his partner’s, but Jimmy takes the lead here, leaning up a bit to match Scott’s height—and Scott thinks he likes it. His lips are warm, far warmer than Scott’s, and wet, and so very very soft.

It’s not the burning fireworks of their first kisses, but it’s warm like a cozy evening by the fireplace—there are so many nerve endings, he can feel his shoulders start to raise at the overstimulation—and it’s Jimmy and he loves him so much and it’s overwhelming, it’s perfect, it’s underwhelming compared to the first time because Scott knows that Jimmy has very sharp teeth and knows how to use them—

But Jimmy pulls away after just a moment, their lips parting slowly, and offers a small smile. “Good?”

Scott can only manage a squeaky noise in the back of his throat, and Jimmy giggles. The sound is a little bit loud for his sensitive ears.

Scott stands and pulls off his cloak, muttering something about putting on softer clothes before ducking into his walk-in closet. He can hear Jimmy laughing behind him.

Normally Scott would consider himself the smooth one—why is he so uncollected? He can’t even find the words to make any sort of dirty jokes. Jimmy must think something’s wrong.

(And so many things are wrong, of course, but definitely not this.)

He changes into soft pajamas, emerging to find Jimmy having also changed—he’s in a loose shirt and shorts, hair mussed and occasional bandages wrapped around his arms and legs. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how one looks at it—his face and hands had taken the brunt of the damage, only a couple of patches bandaged on his arms and even fewer on his legs. Jimmy smiles brightly when he sees Scott reenter.

“I sort of assumed I’d be staying the night. You looked overstimulated, do you need anything?”

Scott points to the bed. “Sleep?” he suggests, swallowing half of the word back. Jimmy nods, pulls back the covers.

“Do you want me on top of you?”

Scott can’t help it—he snorts. Jimmy goes totally red, sputtering incoherently.

“I—you know I—Scott!”

“Very forward, Jimmy, and on the first date too—”

“Oh, come off it!” Jimmy shakes his head, sighs, then adds, “We’ve been engaged for a while now; I don’t think it counts as a first date.”

Scott quirks a brow, and this is more familiar, this is how their banter is meant to be, flirtatious and comfortable and not at all awkward. “So you’re saying you’re open to it?”

“You are a menace,” Jimmy tells him, but he’s smiling, and it really does feel like before all of their issues. Except now Jimmy’s actually his, and the awkward dancing around each other in a newfound relationship hasn’t passed, but maybe they can become like this again soon enough.

Scott climbs into bed, turning down the lamp on his way in. He curls on his side, pulling the blankets up to his waist, his wings resting on the cushioned shelf built into his bed for this precise reason.

After a moment, the bed shakes as Jimmy climbs in beside him, then slowly, carefully, rests an arm around Scott’s waist.

“This okay?”

The weight of his arm is heavy and warm, the perfect amount of pressure, and Scott rolls to be fully on his stomach before pressing closer. When his head is up against Jimmy’s chest, and their knees are bumping at every readjustment, he nods.

He can be close to Jimmy. He doesn’t have to be self-conscious about wanting to touch him. He doesn’t have to restrain himself in private, pretend that the physical affection is all for show.

Scott moves one arm up, wrapped under Jimmy’s arm and up his back, and sighs. This is comfortable. This is right. This is real. Their bodies know how to fit together, weeks of practice in their sleep lending subconscious knowledge to Scott as he presses up against his lover, his Jimmy.

This is real, he tells himself, and it’s perfect.

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dominic-sessa · 2 months

Text

life update!!

i finally have some free time and havent properly posted something in so long so i thought id write up something!

first of all i want to say that ive successfully fixed my bingewatch problem in late january!! i hate to say it, but seeing how many movies i saw last year in my letterboxd wrapped really concerned me 🫤 i wanted to make an effort to make use of my time properly (after starting a new job and all) and i thought i wont let myself waste time bingeing horrible b-movies just so i can bump up the percent watched in someones filmography (its kinda tricky doing it so i made a resolution to only watch movies which interests me if i want to see more of someone)

with that said, i ended up not watching anything on weekdays and eventually think that staring at my phone for more than an hour wasnt my thing anymore (at least in the context of doing it EVERYDAY). so that may be one of the reasons why the turnaround for my hyperfixations got slower (which i think is good!).

ALSO, i do want to mention that because ive been watching less films recently i initially thought it would be great for my gif making hobby since i wont feel the pressure of wanting to gif so many movies at one sitting. i tried this in early feb and.. well... lets just say that it takes time for my very old laptop to make gifs (i had it since college during the pandemic so it was really used!). i only screen record scenes i want to gif because i hate having to wait to download AND even if i had hq clips it would take my laptop so long to render. so making something lq and having to wait 30mins just for a single gif wasnt doing it for me (bcs i said i wanted to make more use of my time).. so thats the reason why i havent posted anything lately (I REALLY REALLY wanted to make a gifset of josh whitehouse in valley girl but the quality just ended up stressing me 🫠)

and for my last update, as u can tell from my reblogs on queue, i just saw daisy jones and the six and LOVE josh whitehouse and he really got me playing the guitar again 😭😭 (i still think its a miracle!!!). ive been practicing some old pieces i used to perform when i was in high school during my 5-9's and i just had a bizzare idea of getting into the piano. i only ever played classical before, so i always had a problem doing improvs. i spent some time looking at videos on youtube and found out improvs on the piano were waay easier to play and understand, so im gonna buy a keyboard very very soon (which im so excited for)!!!! learning how to do jazz improvs on keys would probably be my new hobby and making gifs would probably be back until i get a new laptop (which at the moment is very low priority 🥲)

SO THERES THAT! Now heres an audit trail of my jan-feb hyperfixations!

still on a tom blyth high since late december 2023

dom sessa: after watching the holdovers (seriously this time)

sam claflin: i wanted to get out of the coriolanus blackhole so i ended up reading finnick odair fics 😭😭 i found out he was the lead in daisy jones and the six so i watched that! my hyperfixation didnt last tho!! i have love rosie on my watchlist but got side tracked bcs of... *drum roll*

JOSH WHITEHOUSE -i find it crazy how most of my hyperfixations are englishmen. but yes. my sweet pookie. i love him. i will try not to talk much bcs if i start i wont stop. but tldr i didnt binge his filmography so i was on his youtube channel for quite some time and spent 15mins a day there... thats maybe the reason i got into playing the guitar again? love his music videos AND love how he plays flamenco. i play classical on the guitar and am a tarrèga girl so i never bothered to learn flamenco (tarrèga hated it) . but knowing just that made me want to at least remember some pieces i used to play just so i can play again... THEN i found out he has a new movie coming up with...

malcolm mcrae: ngl his pretty face caught my eye (special shoutout to anya! literally the power couple)... my first thoughts were like 'ohh i wonder what his character is like in triton'. but then i found out hes in a band SO i was thinking ok hes in a movie w josh so theres probably gonna be something music in it. i then looked up his band and love their songs!! theyre only a duo which i think is p strong (u dont need that many ppl in a band rly!) and i watched some interviews they had too!

KANE RITCHOTTE: my babygirl. my darling. idk what to say abt him. his songs with malcolm are always so magical. ive been playing gods in the details on repeat since early feb. hes my favorite more* member. the literal musical god. im praying hell sing more songs. ALSO i was suprised he did a cameo in daisy jones and the six with malcolm (they were the one who taught some of them how to play their instruments!! i was in awe bcs malcolm was the literal billy dune. LIKE sam claflin really copied his playing style which is so neat!!)

thats all!! thanks so much if uve read up until this point ily and pls lmk what uve been up to as well 🫶

take care <3

#hi friends family followers #i am here #doing a write up bcs im thinking of making my next newsletter post abt what ive been into recently #for practice #thats probably the same thing as this post but clearer haha #*

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