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YEAHHHHH - Blog Posts
(Mod Toto) Today is Lon’qu’s birthday, so I made this for everyone to celebrate!
…Except me, because he keeps threatening me to go to sleep-
Oh well, everyone say happy birthday! And go to sleep early or else-
i love you transgenders i love you queers i love you creatures i love you xenogenders and those with neopronouns i love you gender nonconforming folk i love you!!!!!!!!!
🐟🦄🌁
Tried to go for a Last Unicorn but Aquatic energy... This design can be bought by dming me or on my Toyhouse.
Suitcase and MePhone 4 sit by a tree and some reunions happen.
BLITHE SPIRIT POSTER DESIGNS!!!!
(Click for better quality)
Let’s not pretend doms don’t need after care too.
Ask them if they are satisfied, whether they came or not. Do they want to cum?
If they need anything to drink.
Perhaps they might be cramping from putting a lot of effort.
Tell them they did well and which parts you enjoyed the most.
Compliment them for their work.
Cuddle up to them.
Offer help for the clean up afterwards.
Order food together.
Sex can be something casual, but might be intense too. Either physical or mentally. Take care of each other and regularly communicate with each other. No question should be taboo. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
running away from fate
kiss because its the end of the world for the fic prompts?
oooh yay i was hoping i would get this one !! thank you anon. also you didn't specify which ship, so I'm going with andreil :]
~
When the sky turned a bloody red and the stars began to plummet from the heavens, Andrew turned to where he sat beside Neil on the rooftop and said, when you wanted to watch the stars shoot through the sky, I don't think this is what you meant.
Neil didn't respond. He turned a slow look on Andrew, mouth slightly parted and skin bathed in crimson from the inferno above them, and said nothing.
Andrew should have guessed this was the only way to render Neil Josten speechless.
In a lot of ways, the apocalypse wasn't what Andrew had expected. It seemed like eons ago when he and Renee discussed world wars and water shortages wreaking havoc on civilization, but in all their contingency plans and talk of zombies and nuclear winters, neither of them had guessed it would be anything other than humankind's own dong that would do them in.
Weeks ago, when the weatherman came on the television and wept, Andrew hadn't yet realized that the world was really ending. It wasn't until Aaron showed up unannounced on his doorstep with a bag on his shoulder and his family in tow, that he realized that this was it. Only calamity could make his brother visit him unprompted.
Andrew spent a lot of time with his family during those last days, more than what he would have expected. Nicky and his husband managed to get a flight to South Carolina before they shut the airports down and closed borders, and he stayed in Andrew's guest bedroom while Aaron and his wife and daughters took Neil's old room.
Neil moved into Andrew's room, but neither of them talked about it.
Despite the universe shaking itself apart around them, life carried on. People went to work at their boring office jobs and then drank themselves silly afterwards, tuning into to the news station rather than the sports channels. Wars were fought and love was made. Andrew's feelings for Neil continued to turn like a wheel in his chest.
What else was there to do, except wait for the end?
It was on the roof with Neil and a bottle of whiskey between them when Andrew wondered if maybe he should come clean. He'd just about let the words tumble out of his mouth when Neil pointed to an asteroid streaking across the rust-stained sky, the first of many to come. Do you think this is how the dinosaurs felt? he had said.
Andrew's chest tightened as he gazed at the side of Neil's face, illuminated by the blood-red sun in the sky. No, he said. I don't think this is what they felt at all.
Nicky made them breakfast the next morning. He wore a pink chef's apron and cracked eggs in a sizzling pan. Eggs and toast, that's what they were having. That's all that was left. Andrew's family gathered around his tiny kitchen table and ate this last sacrament together. Nicky told jokes that surprisingly didn't fall flat, and Neil pushed his knee up against Andrew's under the table. He said nothing, but he caught Andrew's eye and smiled.
Andrew wondered if he should feel this happy when he and everyone he had ever loved would be dead in just a few hours.
After breakfast, Andrew and Neil climbed onto their roof to watch the lightshow. Fuck it, Andrew thought. He and everyone he loved would be dead in just a few hours. So he took Neil's hand and said, I love you.
Neil didn't let go of his hand, and when he pulled him closer, Neil was the first to lean in and press his lips against Andrew's.
Andrew's lungs burned, but he didn't think it was the smoke-filled air that was choking him, or the burning ozone and brimstone stinging his nose. The world was a dull roar around them, but all of Andrew's senses were overloaded with Neil. He combed his fingers through Neil's hair, soft and ablaze in the dying light, and leaned back. Neil's eyes were the only bit of blue in the entire world, and Andrew was content to die with this being the last thing he saw.
He didn't say that he wished he had more time, and he didn't say he regretted not telling Neil sooner. Wishes and regrets didn't matter anymore. All the mattered was that the sky above them was streaked with fire and blood and the sun reminded Andrew more of the middle of a ripe peach than death itself, and that Neil's hand was folded in Andrew's own.
Neil turned his face to the heavens, chin titled up as it crumpled around them. The sky was awash in red and orange and black as the stars burnt the atmosphere and cascaded around them. In his last moments, Andrew would have thought they looked like falling angels, though he never had believed in such things. The end of the world shouldn't be so beautiful, and yet.
Andrew leaned into Neil, pushing his shoulder against his, and watched the lights blink out one by one.
Oh, good lord. She's speaking to him.
Static crackles in his mind and in the silent night air, and Maxwell looks at her, stricken.
...no, not speaking. And not to him. The spirit is just... coming into existence, that's all.
That's all.
"Thank you," he mumbles, something he's only ever said sarcastically to his typical puppets, but which is entirely genuine when spoken to her. He shivers under the pale blue of the lantern. He should be dead right now. Like her...
IT LOOKS AT HIM.
"Stop that!" Maxwell snarls, eyes wide and terrified. He takes a step back, freezing when he nears the edge of the ring of light.
What is he thinking? Of course she isn't looking at him. He's just lost what was left of his sanity summoning her, that's all.
That's. All.
"We're going home. I-- I'm going home. Come. And don't you dare drop that light."
With spectral candlelight, the spirit materialises.
It has no will. She. SHE. SHE. SHE. SHE. SHE WAS-
The absence of anger, of feeling is noted as its feeble attempt dissolves into radio static, lost and numb. It moves, conjured with its lantern to illuminate the surrounds. It knows it does this, even if it does not see. Vague stimuli to give it a perception, of course, but only what is necessary. The darkness. Objects. It notes its summoner, moving before and beside him, crowning him with protective light.
It feels again. So, it tries to speak, ultimately useless when it has no mouth. However this time, perhaps from something it can percieve stirring in its core, it does face him. Looking. That's all. It wishes it could cry, only for a moment. It can't wish. It is bound to the summoner, but in this moment it has managed more than it had in its past. It seems, even if fleeting, aware.
