#Day 1 Hug

[ahsoka-livesxxx]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker Characters: Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Ned Leeds Additional Tags: Post-Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Barista Peter Parker, Coffee Shops, Touch-Starved, Whumpril 2025 Series: Part 1 of Whumpril 2025 Summary:

Whumpril 2025 - Day 1 prompt: Hug

After the events of Spiderman: No Way Home, Peter Parker finds himself completely alone and he doesn't know how much he needs a hug until he gets one.

[ltorekdraws]

wrighteortj brainrottt

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It had been a long few minutes since he'd opened the door and there were a lot of questions running through Dick's head. Most pressing of which was how this kid seems to have information he should not have.

"How did you..?" he asked, but the words wouldn't leave completely. There's so much he wants to know, so much he wants to ask.

"How do I what?" Danny tilted his head like the child he seems to be is.

"How do you know?" Dick knows he sounds weak. There's no hiding that, but there are a lot of implications in what the kid has said so far and none of it is painting a very happy picture for him.

"Oh!" Danny had the audacity to smile, "You want to know how I know you moonlight as a vigilante!" And of course he knows. Dick knows he knows, but he'd held a little bit of hope that the child Danny was mistaken. Danny's smile softened a bit as he explained, "Your hair and voice match up in both jobs almost perfectly. Not to mention your build and how you hold yourself. There's also the matter of your overall vibes, but that's not something living beings can normally pick up on." Excuse him? "Well, not living humans, at least, so no worries on that end!"

"Excuse me?" Dick was fairly sure his heart just stopped beating for a moment there.

"Anyway, I was a hero back home for a while, too. I know what it's like to have to walk the tightrope between maintaining a civilian cover and a hero persona. I know how it feels to have to keep secrets from everyone because anyone who knows will be in danger." he rambled, Though, admittedly, our circumstances are quite different. I was working as a hero all hours of the day as well as going to school. You only have to worry about properly balancing between day and night jobs. Either way, me having more to bounce between just makes me al the more qualified to help you!"

Oh. Oh he did not like that. He didn't like a single thing that just came out of the kid's mouth. Because that's what he is, a kid. "Are you...Are you alright?"

"Not in the slightest," Danny admitted with an even smaller smile. Then, it brightened, not quite to a grin, but to something similar, "But I'm here to make sure you are."

He gets points for being honest, but Dick felt his heart shatter. He knew for a fact that he'd never worked with this kid before. He also knew that the Justice League didn't know about him. If they did, he would've been picked up and dropped with either the Young Justice team or the Titans.

Dick wasn't going to ask why he became a hero because that's not his place. It's more of a 'third mission with the team' kind of questions, anyway. Most of the heroes didn't have many options when they took up the mantle. Asking what Danny can do is a more appropriate question, but he wasn't going to ask that, either.

"Now that that's out of the way," Danny turned a few pages from the table of contents to another one that was topped with 'Why Sleep Scheduling Is Important' in the blue glitter pen that Dick was starting to suspect he favored. "You're not getting enough sleep. Following you around - no one's been able to find me for a while, so don't worry about that - for the last two weeks has given me some really worrisome information on you."

Dick was worrying. He was worrying a lot and even more questions were coming to the forefront of his mind.

"Your dayjob is as an officer on the Bludhaven Police Force, or BPD for short." He was looking over the page he'd turned to very aptly and Dick realized that the kid had notes written on him. "The average hours per week for police across the country is forty hours. Gotham and Bludhaven are the exceptions. As a member of the BPD, you work a solid two days and two hours. Six nights a week, you work as Nightwing from eight in the evening to three in the morning. The last day, you take off, which is good. No deserable pattern, so good on you for that. Regardless, that's seven hour nights and ten hour days, with one day off and one day on call as an officer. Seven hours are now left in your day for personal time, eating, and sleeping. That's not a healthy way to live."

Oh, god, the kid had honest to god notes on him! What the hell!

Danny didn't even skip a beat as he pulled Dick's attention back to him and his binder. "I've drawn up a schedule for you to follow." The back of the page had a meticulously drawn schedule, complete with blocks of time to eat, sleep, work both jobs, travel, personal time, and still have a bit extra left over. It was titled 'Ideal End Result' in green marker. "Drastic changes right away will only affect you negatively, so we're starting off smaller." The next page over had another schedule titled 'Where To Begin'. "I've only pulled one hour from your Nightwing hours because I know important that time is to you and the city. I am, however, going to be having you submit an appeal to your boss to cut back your hours from fifty a week to forty a week. That way, you'll only be working eight hours a day and not ten. You'll still be on call for one day, and you'll have that last day off. Altogether, you'll be going be going from working seventeen hours a day to fourteen hours a day. Nine in the morning to five in the afternoon, and eight in the evening to two in the morning. Not including breaks at work or travel time. It opens up a few more hours for you to sleep!"

"You really think the chief is going to pull back my hours?" Dick raised an eyebrow in question.

"He will if he knows what's good for him."

"You know I can arrest you for that threat, right?"

"Yeah, but you won't." And, damn it, he's right.

Although, there was now another thing he had to know. "How to you plan on enforcing this schedule of yours?"

Danny seemed to have been waiting for this. He got a gleam in his eye as he pulled a black folder from his bag, not breaking eye contact with Dick. He placed it on the table and pushed it across. "Congratulations, it's a boy."

Part 1 Part 3

[acasualcrossfade]

More Than a Hospital Thing

Stranger Things | Steddie |  Rating: T | Words: 1455 

CW: mentions of making out 

Written for @whumpril 2025: Day 1–Hug

Divider art by @saradika-graphics

Steve stared at the glowing orange elevator button, pointedly choosing not to glance over at Eddie. The elevator descended slowly, and Steve was thankful for it, wanting to savor his last moments with Eddie. 

They hadn’t said much about last night, and had only exchanged a nervous good morning before falling silent. Even the news of getting discharged wasn’t enough to strike up a conversation since it meant that their joint quarantine was over.

The hospital elevator was empty except for the two of them, which seemed more like fate, considering the start of visiting hours was the busiest time of the morning.

Steve would miss the moments of taking their pills in tandem and suffering the same side effects: nausea, nightmares, and at times, panic attacks. 

It was Eddie who was there, brushing Steve’s hair off his neck when he was sick, and reminding him to breathe during the worst of the panic and hugging him gently after it passed. And it was Steve who had held back Eddie’s hair as he was sick for an entire night, and it was Steve asked before climbing into his bed after Eddie dreamed that Vecna took Wayne. 

Steve especially hated how much he would miss the way Eddie held him at night, his face buried at the base of Steve’s neck.

“I might miss it,” Eddie mused and Steve was suddenly worried that Eddie could read his mind.

Steve looked over at Eddie for clarification. “The hospital?” Eddie nodded. “I didn’t think I’d like sharing a room as much as I did.”

Something warm and prickly moved up Steve’s body.Flashes of last night replayed in his head no matter how much he attempted to forget: Eddie’s hands splayed on his chest, Edddie’s hands raking through his hair…Steve pushed away the thought before he lost his words. “It grew on me, too,” he admitted.

“Then again, if they’re saying we’re healed enough to leave, I’m not sticking around to question it,” Eddie added, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Steve wanted to add something witty, to turn Eddie’s smile into a fuller one, but the elevator dinged, and the silver doors slid open.

A bustling lobby greeted them as they both stepped out. Steve nearly collided with a man in a rush, and Eddie sidestepped a small child. A few people were waiting in line at the front desk, while others tended to their kids by the windows and in the waiting room. Steve swallowed hard, seeing how many relatives and families were spending their Saturday here. He thought of Robin and the Party, all choosing to camp out in their room for as long as possible. Steve realized that now, they wouldn’t have to. 

“Ready to blow this popsicle stand, Harrington?” Eddie asked, leading the way to the shortest line at the front desk.

Steve nodded and followed, still looking around. He was grateful that Dr. Owens let them walk to the front desk since they weren’t truly discharged until they signed out, but Steve spied the two wheelchairs by the exit and sighed.  Stupid hospital policy.

The line at the front desk moved quickly and the clipboard of discharge papers wasn't as daunting as he expected.  As he scribbled his initials on the last page, there was a heaviness in knowing that whatever happened in that hospital room would stay in that hospital room. His pen hovered over the last section.

It was time.

Steve swallowed and signed quickly, sliding the clipboard back to the receptionist. She nodded in thanks and then pointed to the waiting wheelchairs. 

“Dr. Seth and Dr. Willis will wheel you out,” she nodded. 

Eddie threw Steve a look that was equal parts excitement as it was playful. “One last time?”

Steve sighed. “As long as you don’t try to race again, I think we’ll be okay.” 

“Why? Because you don’t want the Wheelchair Wizard to leave you in the dust again?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You earned us escorted visits for the rest of our stay,” Steve reminded. It was true. For every meal or activity outside of their room that required wheelchairs, there were always two nurses to take them. Steve took a reluctant seat in the wheelchair for which was hopefully going to be the last time.

Eddie did the same, but sucked in a breath as he sat, his face contorting as he groaned and pressed a hand to his side. The nurse was there in front of him in seconds, but Eddie waved him off. “M’fine. Just…haven’t mastered the whole sitting down thing yet.” He blew out a breath, his hand not leaving his side.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Steve asked as the nurse began wheeling them out.

Eddie took another deep breath and nodded. “Nothing that a few painkillers can’t fix.”

The nurses parked their wheelchairs beyond the entrance, and confirmed they both had someone to come pick them up. Eddie told them his uncle was coming, but once the nurse disappeared inside, Eddie hobbled over to a nearby bench to sit. 

Steve caught the same grimace from before, and he suddenly wondered if either of them should really be going home. 

“I’m alright,” Eddie repeated at Steve’s face of concern. “I just…need a second.” He rubbed absently at his side, right where the bats had taken most of the flesh.

Steve bit his lip and sat next to Eddie. “Is Wayne on his way?”

“Probably’ll be here in a couple hours.”

Steve blinked in surprise. “A couple hours? You were going to wait here for a couple hours?” Steve studied him, but let his surprise soften. “Joyce and Hopper wouldn’t mind giving you a ride home.”

“It’s kinda…far,” Eddie explained. “They relocated us to the next town over, and since Wayne works in the opposite direction, it’s easiest if he picks me up here after his shift.”

“Then stay at my place until Wayne’s done,” Steve said, the words too quick for him to stop them. He blushed, but continued. “There’s a few extra bedrooms if you need to stay longer.”

Eddie shook his head. “I would hate to intrude, Harrington. It’s your first night home. You deserve some peace and quiet.”

“We’ve been sharing a room for the last three weeks. Another night won’t do me in.”

Eddie shyly met his gaze. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Steve helped Eddie back to standing, but to Steve’s surprise, Eddie stepped closer and wrapped his arms around him.

Steve tensed for a minute, unprepared, but then relaxed into Eddie’s embrace. He felt Eddie’s arms tighten slightly as he held him with confidence and buried his head into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve felt the tickle of Eddie’s curls against and under his chin, and felt the way Eddie rubbed down the middle of his back, avoiding his shoulder blades. Steve was grateful; his back was healing but still held angry abrasions from being dragged through the Upside Down.

And that was a thing about Eddie’s hugs. He knew where to hug and hold, and each one was affirming and unafraid, always leaving Steve feeling seen in a way he didn’t have words for. Steve never felt trapped or suffocated by Eddie’s embrace, either. Rather, the closeness was a welcoming salve especially after their quieter morning. Steve inhaled Eddie’s familiar scent of something refreshing and woodsy mixed with the sharper smell of antiseptic.

Eddie shifted to look up at Steve. His eyes were curious and playful, with that same rueful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what if I want you in my bed…?”

Steve’s entire body flushed as he met Eddie’s eyes. “Would you…want to?”

“Steve, if you’re asking if I want you in my bed, the answer is yes,” Eddie stated, his voice lower. “And, if you’re asking if I want to make out with you in your bed, the answer is yes, absolutely.”

Steve blinked. “Last night, it wasn’t just…a hospital thing?”

Eddie quickly planted a kiss on Steve’s cheek before his face broke into a wider smile. “Definitely not just a hospital thing.”

Steve barely had time to collect his thoughts when a loud honking erupted in the parking lot and they both jumped and let go of one another.

Hopper’s truck honked again and Steve smiled. The yellow truck was a sight for sore eyes, and for the first time since Steve left the hospital, he felt at ease, as if the ground under him was a foundation rather than falling out from under him. And once he and Eddie were both buckled in safely in the backseat, Steve discreetly reached for Eddie’s hand.

And when Eddie took it, intertwining his fingers in Steve’s, everything was right in the world. 

[kulai]

Day 31: The Hug !

with lyrics from Adrienne Lenker’s forwards beckon rebound (should be in every wenclair playlist ever made btw)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Now I have to ask- WHY do you hate Pacific Rim?

Okay, fair warning, this is about as bitter and salty and small-minded as day-old caviar. But. My bitter, salty (probably fishy) opinion:

Pacific Rim is only a good movie because it's a well-written story about robots punching monsters.

That's it. That's all there is to the movie.

I started out merely disappointed by Pacific Rim. We went gaga for the preview materials that promised these unique well-rounded character pairs and trios with these idiosyncratic robots from all these different Pacific nations... And then the movie itself is about some bland white American guy who pilots a robot named a racial slur, the second most fleshed-out team is bland white Australian guys, and the Chinese team is there, kind of, in the background, but don't worry they're going to die first. The "character-driven story" turned out to be "various characters take turns punching aliens" but, sure, whatever, I love the MCU so why not.

The day I went from "Pacific Rim is overrated" to "Pacific Rim is the worst thing that has ever happened to human civilization, I'm extremely normal about this" was the day I saw a Tumblr post suggesting we replace the Bechdel test with the Mako Mori test. Because Mako Mori has her own plot and doesn't kiss North Carolina at the end, making her a whole new type of feminist icon.

To which I was like:

We are talking about the same movie here, right? The Pacific Rim that can't even pass the Bechdel test? The Pacific Rim that's all about might-makes-right, the Pacific Rim that has ONE speaking role for ONE female character in its (from IMDB) 50-person cast? The Pacific Rim that repeatedly puts its only female character in danger and has her rescued by first Idris Elba then North Carolina? THAT Pacific Rim?

Is there a different Mako Mori I haven't met? Because the one I've seen a) has a character arc driven by deciding whether to obey her father or follow her heart, which is as inoffensive and stale as an unblessed communion wafer, b) does nothing that Ellen Ripley didn't do 30 years earlier, but with about 5% of the character depth Ripley got, and c) stands there in silence looking sad as two men punch each other over the question of her virtue.

Any post assuming this movie invented the idea of "small Asian woman kicks monster ass" needs to learn its damn history. Especially the ones acting like her being physically small is somehow a feminist bonus. There's something embarrassingly ahistorical about the whole thing.

And look. I get how we got here. I know how easily Tumblr backs you into a rhetorical corner of "calling a story Good can never mean merely 'enjoyable'; calling a story Good must mean 'virtuous'". Until next thing you know you're arguing that actually, shipping Obi-Wan/Darth Vader is a net good for all of society, because gay divorced middle-aged tyrants who use supplemental oxygen and murdered their exes in a custody dispute over the one kid (out of two) they actually care about deserve to see themselves in sci fi too! You only end up in that corner because half the time you're arguing against someone who says that shipping Obi-Wan/Darth Vader is literally the same thing as supporting father-son incest, so your real reasons for shipping them (1. foe yay, 2. old man yaoi) seem wildly insufficient.

Much of what I see about Pacific Rim seems neck-deep in the "it's not allowed to be a Good Movie unless it single-handedly dismantles the patriarchy" fallacy. There's nothing progressive about shipping two dudes best known for chopping off each other's body parts with laser swords. And there's nothing progressive about a movie having its only female character hug the male protagonist at the end instead of kissing him. You're allowed to like a thing just because it's well-made, without acting like a bog-standard normatively-broey action flick somehow invented a new form of feminism. Anyway, "Pacific Rim is a perfectly fine movie" is the hill I will die upon, heretical though it may be.

[qualityrain]

mentally i am still here

shuake week day 7: feathermen / goro or joker palace / free day

[inrockstarfashion]

I just want to be domestic with him.

I want to wake up and make him coffee. I want to be cooking breakfast and see him stumbling into the kitchen with crazy bed head, all bleary eyed, and hug me from behind before kissing the side of my head. I want to hug him and kiss his cheek. I want to lay on top of him and draw random shapes on his chest while we watch TV. I want him to lay on top of me while I run my fingers through his hair and trace the features on his face.

I just want to be soft with him.

Ciao!

[hmsdoodlin]

I’m so incredibly obsessed with Soul Beast Mind.

After Souls transformation and Hearts sudden absence, Mind is forced to take on everything by himself. The man once so confident he could run the ship one handed is stretched thin and forced to face that he’s not enough.

There’s no one around to impress, and yet he still takes great care in his appearance, taking time to do his hair and makeup before leaving his room. He dresses far more formally than usual, buttoning up his shirt and tying his shoes with a blank stare and a worn creaky prosthetic.

His boots click down the empty hallway far too early in the morning, preparing three meals three times a day for people who will never eat them. He sets the table and eats alone, staring at the food on plates he knows won’t be touched. He meticulously puts away leftovers, dating and portioning everything in little plastic containers. The fridge is full of food, throwing away perfectly good meals to make room for more.

When Soul comes home he’ll surely be hungry, thankful for his favorites after such a long time away, and there’s always a chance Heart will sneak out of his room in the middle of the night to eat. He knows Soul isn’t coming home and that Hearts been starving himself, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Just in case.

He occasionally knocks on Hearts door, asking simple questions in an attempt to check up on him.

“Dinners ready, it’s your favorite.”

“Can I come in? I need to check on your wing.”

He never gets a response.

He spends all of his time taking care of Whole, constantly keeping him stable and alive. His room has accumulated copious amounts of dust, his prized electric guitar going unpolished for weeks when just two months ago he treated it like his baby. There’s no time for hobbies or leisurely activities, ignoring his books to stare blankly at a screen and survey Wholes every waking moment for every day of his life.

He’s tired. He wants his headmates back.

[sabo-torao]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SABO!!!

Sabo Week Day 7 - Sabo Day

i'm so so so glad to be able to celebrate my specialest little guy properly this year!! i care about him immensely, maybe even too much. he's got me in a grip for sure.

if i was a bit more confident in my phrasing and wording skills i would turn this post into a proper, cringy lovemail, but thankfully for you, i am not, so i'll let my own existence be the testament of my love for him instead.

[renegadesstuff]

HE LOVES HER SO SO MUCH 😭❤️

[le0sulfurous]

had a bit of time so I did this little doodle of the Fridge teacher that only appears in like 3 shots in episode 5 of dhmis and has like 2 lines which he says in this goofy voice while flailing his arms around. Absolute king shit. I've loved him since I was 13 and will continue loving him forever. I am fridge's number one (and probably only) fan. Fridge forever. Fuck yeah

[kokoch4nel]

I love that we, arcane fandom, came back hard and depressed asf 🔥🔥🔥

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @flame-343

[movementsofmylife]

this particular scene (and all the others like it that he pulls off) is why i will have to watch every single thing that war wanarat is in for the rest of my life:

like goddamn that fucking heart broken face at being asked to forgive him, knowing how much he hurt you and that you love him and will forgive him despite it all in the end. and then ending on let me think about it because you can't quite get yourself to verbalize any of this, to let the hurt go just yet.

i did not expect messy engineering bl i started just to have more yinwar b.w jack and joker to hurt me this bad.

[rosaharazu]

Elita-1 Fanart

I'm not too satisfied with the lighting, but I LOVE the outline. Like I never knew that I could do that!

Also, the OG design is from the web and credits to the one who made this Tfp Elita-1 design. I just thought I'd add a cape.

AND ALPHA TRION HAD A CAPE in the movie.

Anyways, in my headcanon, is that she spent millennials trying to get to Earth. Practically had her own Odyssey. Lmaoooo I can't help but be inspired by Epic The Musical.

That's all. I have real life things to do.