#I have more legit drawings to post eventually I promise

[designernishiki]

she’s a lady (woah woah woah)

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

I'm glad that someone finally has the same perspective on Scriddler, though mine is a bit different.

I don't mind the ship as a whole, the ship and its shippers aren't doing anything wrong. It's just popular and that's about it. But I can't help but feel like it overshadows a lot of aspects of The Scarecrow Community(?), and it's kinda difficult finding support for your own content. Let it be shipping or no shipping.

It won't take away my love for Jonathan Crane, and I promise myself that I'll strive to grow my collection, to meet creators that got to work on his content, and many more. Yet that lingering urge to give up is there.

Yeah, I definitely agree with you. And that's an issue that can easily plague shipping, eventually it becomes so big, everything else is overshadowed and ignored. That's kind of why I make it a point to reblog all kinds of content on my blog.

I also have nothing against today's main shippers, it's mostly those in the past who would get offended if you dared to ship something else. I don't see this as much anymore, the fandom as a whole is more welcoming than it was in 2015. Also I don't see much, if any real legit fetishization, but I made it a point to bring it up in other posts because it is a real issue and it does happen. (can't speak for fanfic on this, as I don't read it)

Scarecrow is SUCH a unqiue character to me, and to boil him down to a few palatable aspects just so you can ship him, feels kinda...disingenuous? Not even sure that's the word I want to use. But it feels like many will, speaking as a sweeping generalization, write/draw him a certain way and ignore anything unique from the comics. Things like Scarebeast, or Yellow Lantern, or even his distaste for religion. There's SO MUCH you could work with and ya'll just make him masochist with a syringe. I mean, that it passes the vibe check, but barely.

That said, there are always outliers who do him justice. I've been careful not to name names, cus most people don't fall into the negative categories. Most people here are awesome and welcoming of new ideas.

Just, keep the above in mind when consuming content. In the end, there's really no right or wrong way as long as you're not hurting someone or being a bigot.

[theguyinthemathexamples]

not a fic (very very sorry everyone), just had to get a lil something off of my chest and so y'all know an actual reason as to why im not posting like a very and totally responsible author 🫶

now, my lovely reasons why i don't post anything every month 🫰🫰🫰🫰:

— 1. school

pretty self explanatory, but even school itself doesn't take much time out of my day than anything else

not to mention that I rarely get any schoolwork, there's the gremlin part in me that doesn't even do them, which brings me to my next reason

— 2. games

other than having recently downloaded crk, (cookie run kingdom) i also like to play hsr and genshin impact which takes up almost every second of my day that i don't spend doing normal people tasks + watching youtube

with version 2.0 and 4.4 of hsr and genshin respectively coming up, as well as worrying about raiden, i'm most certainly not gonna be writing anything for the time being

i could try promising to try my best but they'd mostly be empty ones even by me

but even these don't compare to my last reason.

— 3. neuvilette comic ptsd

the amount of time i spent on the neuvilette sagau mix drawing had me avoiding tumblr AT ALL COSTS.

though, it was mostly about y'all's feelings, it mostly had me expecting the worst and making me think yall would be disappointed with the quality of the drawings due to the amount of time it was taking me to make the pieces (i legit need to make a deadline on my fics 💀)

so, due to those thoughts, my avoidance eventually led me to not be very active on tumblr, even after posting the comic for our lord and savior aquarius 🫶

and all of that had more or less led me to more than enough crash-ins with burnout, art and writer's block, which explains my inactivity and lack of interaction here

im not kidding when i say that i get literal flashbacks of that time and leading me to think im just disappointing y'all with the lack of uploads as well as the amount of drafts i have 💀

and even though I've told y'all multiple times i don't post regularly, though it depends on what y'all define as "regularly", not even getting a fic in at least every month sets my alarm bells off to make me post something and drive me to burnout again

anyways 😇😇

im already planning uploading on my interpretation of sahsr/sahsrau, as I've already told y'all on my lovely argenti fic 🫰

and since there're lots of topics to cover, as well as a good amount of lore digging, im afraid it'll definitely take some more time to make

— sincerely, theguyinthemathexamples, aka cakesinoil.

with love to all, i hope everyone has a good rest of their days ♡

[dailyadventureprompts]

Could you impart advice on creating memorable adventures and campaigns?

Ok so my thoughts on this ended up becoming a bit long for a single post, so I decided to split it up and throw in a few example prompts along with it, you’ll be able to find them all in my “Drafting an Adventure” tag below over the next couple days. 

Drafting an Adventure, Step 1: Making them Care

First and foremost,  figure out an emotional appeal, and be sure to start with it: D&D as a game is only so fun, but the actual STORIES you end up creating and sharing with your friends are the real draw, they’re what you’re going to remember YEARS down the line and they’re predicated on getting your audience to care about the tale you’re creating with them. 

I can’t tell you how many d&d adventures I’ve seen fall flat because their hook is based purely on in game rewards, or because they sold themselves on emulating a genre without ever understanding the FEELING that genre was built around.  So many DMs spend all their time working on the lore of their world, but fail to provide the smallest accommodations  to make players feel welcome and involved in the story being told.

Say the Dm wants to introduce a lich villain the party is going to face off with  somewhere down the line, so they have undead rising from a local tomb and offer the players a reward for exterminating them. This is going to send them into a dungeon, have them face off against successive waves of creepier and creepier skeletons, until they get to the boss skeleton, and get some insight into the lich’s existence.   BORING, no one cares, there’s no stakes, there’s absolutely no emotional bond between the players, the lich, the town, or even the enemies themselves, all there is the obligation to go on the adventure because its there, and the vague promise of more fun later in the form of gold and XP 

Here’s a better version: 

The party is in town for a festival (reason to be in this particular spot at this time, the promise of fun) celebrating the end of a war some decades ago ( history, useful later, not important, but you can use it for hooks) .  They meet some amusing npcs at the festival/get to see their allies having fun ( emotional hook with the world) and goof of a bit with festive games and antics ( lightweight challenges that let your players express what’s fun about their character).  

Suddenly, a throng of skeletons in rusting armor attack the festival, people scream, everything is chaos, and our drunken heroes must rise to the occasion! ( a unique combat encounter with the party intoxicated, caught of guard, and disorganized,   set against an intriguing background and imperiling both their own enjoyment AND the NPCS we’ve grown to like). 

After the battling bones are dispatched, the party is left with the challenge of figuring out where they came from, and why, ( mechanical variation, going from hijinx to combat to investigation), which eventually leads them to a nearby ruined fortress that played an important role in the war ( backstory hook paying off, also time for a dungeon).  Exploring the ruins leads the party to encounter more undead soldiers, and the necromancer who raises them by calling upon their rage at being slaughtered and defeated   ( likely setting up a campaign theme of lost causes, and the human costs that are forgotten after victory is achieved).   The villain warns them that these soldiers are intended as a gift for the necromancer’s unseen master ( hey look, another plothook, possibly including OTHER apprentice badguys looking to pay tribute to our eventual arch-villain) and that disturbing the process will make the party enemies of a force far greater than them ( now a legit choice, do the heroes kick the hornet's nest?) . They slay the necromancer or accept his bribe, and then return back to town with a lot more questions than they started with. 

See how much more rich that is, how many more opportunities the players have to become invested, regardless of what aspect of the D&D experience brings them to the table? If you ran this adventure the “traditional” way, it’d be a quick stop in at the local tavern or a notice-board bounty, then a session or two of slogging through a dank ruin fighting same-y enemies that the players and their characters don’t honestly care about.  This way, you’ve given the party a whole host of things to care about: 

A chance to bond with  each other and with NPCS at the festival 

An interest in the setting, and how the war relates to the wider campaign lore

Their reputation as vanquishers of the undead and saviors of the town, which you can leverage into future adventures.  

The threat of an enemy gathering power somewhere out in the world. 

Art source 1

Art source 2

[shorkbrian]

First

Prelude - Hey! I promise I’m getting to requests soon, i read every single one! this is my warm up at writing real, legit NSFW in order to practice for some of those requests. Since this is my first time (lol) at writing nsfw content I’m a bit hesitant to post but hopefully I didn’t mess anything up lol. If ur reading this I lub u okay have fun

Pormpt - “It’s natural to cry”

Pairing - Aizawa Shouta X Reader

Warnings - NSFW. noncon, crying, unsafe sex. 

Music - https://youtu.be/scd-uNNxgrU

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

 “Either you take them off, or I do.” Aizawa returned your panicked look with a calm, level expression. He didn’t want you to be scared of what was about to happen but, well…… he could tell that you weren’t ready, and there was nothing that the man could do to allay your fears.  He was tired of waiting - Aizawa was going to have you.

Hesitantly, you began slipping your clothes off with shaking hands. They trembled so badly that you couldn’t get a proper grip on the zipper of your jeans the first few times you tried to grab at it. Luckily you were able to hold onto it and pull it down before Aizawa got too impatient. You peeled off your jeans, having already thrown your shirt on the floor by your feet. It left you in your underwear, hands trying to shyly cover your chest and the intimate place between your legs. You didn’t want this, didn’t want Aizawa seeing you.

You didn’t have a choice.

Aizawa gazed at your body for a moment, before he stood, catching your hands gently in his own.

“None of that, let me see you.”

His voice was soft in volume, but it was throaty, scratchy in its cadence, rough to your ears. Aizawa pressed both of your wrists into on hand so he could use the other to reach around and undo your bra, pulling it down your arms despite your protests. As you struggled to draw your hands out of his grip, the man simply tightened his grasp, the crushing pressure making you gasp. It was clearly a threat, stop, or you’ll have two shattered wrists. you stopped trying to cover your naked chest.

A hand pulled at your panties, tugging one side down slowly before reaching for the other; slowly wriggling them down your tightly clenched legs.

“Shouta-“ he insisted you call him that instead of Aizawa “-please, I-I don’t.”

“It’s okay.” He rumbled. Your panties were pooled at your ankles. You tried to cross your legs to preserve your modesty, But Aizawa dragged you backward towards the bed, where he once again sat down. You stood in front of him, your wrists still captive in one large hand. He let go of them, giving you a warning look that made you think twice about trying to cover your chest again. 

His hands came up to rub soothingly at your body, focusing on your chest, the curve of your waist, the softness of your rear. It didn’t feel good. His hands were too rough and too big. You didn’t want to cry, but tears quickly filled your eyes when he began groping at your chest, squeezing and pulling at the flesh there in a mockery of a massaging gesture. It hurt.

You couldn’t stop yourself from yelping when Aizawa squeezed too hard (in his opinion he had grabbed you with hardly any pressure).  Your nipples felt like they were burning, a sharp pain lancing through the center of your breast before Aizawa seemed to register your pained noise. He glanced up, eyes meeting your face. Immediately he retracted his hands upon seeing you holding back tears, and he pulled you into his lap. It was supposed to be comforting. It only made the panic inside you grow. You started to struggle again, quickly making to launch yourself off his lap, but Aizawa caught you, a hand around your back, the other stroking along your thigh.

“I’m not hurting you.”

That was a lie.

You knew he was trying to reassure you, but it sounded like a warning. I could be hurting you.

“I can’t do this, Shouta I can’t ‘m sorry,  I-I can’t-“

He grabbed both of yours shoulders with those rough hands, and you clamped your mouth shut. His dark eyes met yours, and you were frightened to see no malice, no ill-intent directed at you.

“You can, you’ve done it before.”

Maybe it would make you feel better if he was doing this to hurt you, or punish you, or try to humiliate you. But he held only love for you, a burning desire that ate up his insides and blinded his mind to rationality. 

At his words, you struggled even harder, shaking you head as his grip on your shoulders tightened.

“I can’t!”

Aizawa wasn’t convinced.

His knuckles turned white as he held you against him.

“Biologically, it’s what your body was made for. (Y/N), you can and you will.“ “Please!! I-I just can’t Shouta please, please-”

“Stop.”

“No Shouta please don’t make me I can’t I don’t wanna-“

“I said-“ His eyes turned red, hair floating upwards. You had no quirk, it was just his natural response to de-escalate a situation. “-STOP.”

The sudden boom of his voice made everything go still. Your body, the breath in your lungs. It felt as if the air was afraid of moving, sound refusing to reach your ears as you stilled in Aizawa’s grasp. 

Your tears broke the stillness of the moment.

You looked off to the side, trying to sniffle your tears to a stop. You felt sick, disgusting - sitting naked on Aizawa’s lap.

“I……. I’ve never……” The stillness was back, but this time it was Aizawa who held his breath, body refusing to move as he hung on your words. You found his eyes again; they were wide, searching your face for… something. You didn’t know what.  He urged you to keep talking with his eyes, imploring you to finish what you had been saying.

“I’m a virgin.” You whispered, rushing out the words as if they burned your tongue. Maybe they did. The tears fell faster, rolling down your cheeks and dripping off your chin to plop wetly on your collarbone. You didn’t want to look at Shouta.

When your words reached him, the man froze.

Eventually, he released your shoulders, hands coming to cradle your waist. You hoped your admission would cause him to release you entirely, help you off his lap and back into your clothes. You felt so cold.

“It’s... “ you could tell he was struggling to find words, almost panting as he paused. “It’s natural to cry”

And cry you did.

Aizawa craned his head, kissing away your salty tears despite the way you flinched each time his lips met your skin. His movements, while still steady and restrained, seemed to carry an undercurrent of…. Urgency? Excitement? You didn’t have time to puzzle it out, Aizawa moving you so he could lay you down gently in the middle of the bed. Your stomach dropped.

“No….. please…. “

“Shh. I’ll be gentle, you’ll be okay.” Aizawa reached into his nightstand drawer, looking for something as he talked to you, his voice thick with lust. “This’ll feel good, I promise. I won’t hurt you, you know that.”

He had already hurt you. 

Everything hurt and you didn’t know how to make it stop. Even when he wasn’t touching you, your body felt tight, your heart was squeezing itself too hard, stomach twisting in knots and threatening to force bile up your throat. 

You felt so heavy, so small and afraid as Aizawa found what he was looking for, producing a bottle that you recognized as lube. 

He pried your stiff legs apart, ignoring the way you uselessly tried to squeeze them shut before he could settle between them.  Aizawa looked over your body, sighing softly as he set the lube down near your hip. The man leaned forward, capturing your lips slowly in a passionate kiss, probing his tongue between your lips, hands coming to cradle your head.

You didn’t want this.

When he broke the kiss, letting you gasp for air, Aizawa once again began running his hands along your body, although he had a goal in mind, his target settled between your thighs. 

“I’m getting you ready for me, but this’ll feel good too, I promise.” He supplied, the fingers of one hand beginning to slide up and down your folds slowly. Distantly, you recognized that he was using his teacher voice.

Slipping down to lie flat on his front, Aizawa breathed hotly against your core, watching your legs twitch at the foreign (pleasurable) sensation. His fingers were still playing with your folds, rubbing slowly between them, getting close to your entrance but never dipping in.

“Shouta please I don’t want this, I can’t do this please I don’t.”  You tried one last time.

Aizawa huffed, before he began licking beside his fingers slowly, letting his saliva coat the outside of your entrance. You squirmed in discomfort (it felt good?), embarrassed squeaks coming from your bright red face. Your hands flew up to cover your burning face, and Aizawa allowed it, more focused on dipping his tongue into you, swirling his fingers around your clit.

You didn’t want this to feel good, but it did. Through your tears you felt a distant throbbing in between your legs, ten times stronger than when you touched yourself at home. You wished you were at home. If you were at home you could be watching a movie, or reading the latest book you had gotten from the library.  Your cat would be displeased that you hadn’t fed her at the usual time, you realized. She was fussy and liked her schedule.

A burning jolt of pleasure pulled you back to the present, eyes closed behind the hands that covered your face, Aizawa’s head buried between your legs. He had slipped a finger in with his tongue, thrusting both appendages into you with no sense of urgency. When he grew tired of this, he replaced his tongue with another finger, deeming you wet enough. He moved to suck at your clit, and you writhed, back arching off the bed. The feeling was so intense you felt suffocated, gasping for breath as soon as Aizawa relented, moving to lick around the two fingers buried inside you. You hardly noticed when he slipped in a third.

“Shouta!” You gasped when he sucked at your clit again, his free hand coming to restrain your bucking hips. He pulled off, his three fingers still thrusting, rubbing your insides as he looked up at you from his spot between you legs.

“I like hearing you, be as loud as you want for me.”

He was always so calm, so collected in everything he did. In a way you envied his ability to remain so unaffected in his daily life. 

To your horror, a rising feeling began collecting deep in your stomach, and you began thrashing, trying to get away from Aizawa’s fingers and mouth as they stroked and thrusted and sucked at your intimate parts.

“Wait, waIT! I’m gonna pee, stop, stOP!”

You heard Aizawa let out a breathy chuckle against your skin. All of a sudden, the stimulation stopped, and the feeling dropped. You sighed in relief, but your stomach still felt icky. Why couldn’t Aizawa just leave you be? You wanted to go home. The next thing you knew, Aizawa was sitting back on his heels, black boxers nowhere to be seen.  You didn’t want to look at that, that thing between his legs.

Aizawa grabbed the lube from beside your hip, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you heard its cap open, the squirt of the bottle, then the sound of the cap closing. You tried your hardest to ignore the slick sounds of Aizawa stroking himself, covering his length in the slimy substance. 

Your eyes flew open when you felt his fingers again, wiping off the excess lube into your opening. It didn’t feel natural, feeling the slippery liquid being pushed into you. Aizawa gave another dark chuckle at your reaction, choosing not to comment on how your insides gripped his fingers, sucking him into your warmth. In a smooth motion, he was hovering above you, turning your head with his dry hand to look up at him.

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated. You could almost see your own terrified expression in the black mirror of his pupils. He was breathing heavily, the only sign that he was affected. You thought back to earlier when his voice had sounded excited, noticing that you could see that excitement now, feel it. His hand shakily stroked your hair, before he dipped down to join the two of you together in another passionate kiss. This one was messier than the last, and you felt your face scrunch up in disgust as you detected the faint trace of your taste on his tongue. 

Would he let you go home, you wondered, if you threw up in his mouth?

He drew back before you could give that thought serious consideration, and you were shocked to see a small smile tugging at his lips. You had never seen Aizawa, no, Shouta smile. You had worked as his TA for six years and not once had you seen his lips curl into anything other than a frown. It unnerved you.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, and finally getting to have you….” He dipped to kiss you again, briefly this time. “You taste so good, look so beautiful spread out on my bed.”

His dark hair tickled your cheek as he reached down to adjust himself, rubbing up and down your folds a few times. Aizawa watched intensely as you tipped your head back and trembled and shook at the sensation. It was unusual but it felt good, especially when his tip nudged against your clit.

“Take a deep breath.” 

You did as he asked without thinking, slightly confused, before you felt him slide into you slowly. Immediately you panicked, hands coming to push at his shoulders, terrified “no’s” and “stop, stop!”  Repeatedly falling from your lips.  It didn’t exactly hurt, but it was just so foreign, and you didn’t want him doing this to you.Aizawa shushed you gently, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Relax, relax, oh god….. you feel so god.”

You tried your best to relax, but it was hard. Aizawa was groaning above you, his head dipped down and eyes shut tight. You could tell it was taking everything he had to stay still, to go slow. He began moving in the finest of movements, gradually building up to shallowly thrusting into you at an easy pace, and you were horrified at the way it sent tingles up and down your spine, all the way to the tips of your toes. 

“Oh fuck, I love you so much.”

Despite the pleasure racing through your body, you still felt gross.

In no time, Aizawa was pounding into you, the rapid, slick sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air alongside his groans and your cries. You were sobbing, the sensation of his thick length inside too much for you. You were so exhausted emotionally, you just wanted to sleep, wanted Aizawa to leave you alone and never look at you again, never acknowledge your presence.   He was using his teacher voice, instructing you how to move with him. He had told you to work with him, to do what felt natural and what felt good.  “I don’t know how!” You had cried, your body feeling tight with pleasure as he humped against you.  Aizawa had stopped for a second, seeming to remember that you were a virgin, new to the feelings that he was forcing onto your body. He had started up again, being very vocal about what you should do and how you should move.

“Move your hips a little, yes, good…… oh fuck, fuck, wrap your legs around me.”

You wrapped your legs around his sturdy waist, and he slipped his arms underneath your back. Next thing you knew, you were being lifted into the air, Aizawa moving so he was sitting on his heels, you bouncing in his lap. The angle changed everything and you cried, being manhandled like a rag doll.

“Oh my god, feel so good honey.” Aizawa was kissing your neck now, his pace desperate as he rutted up into you. ‘You’re so tight, it’s like you were made for me….. mmmh.”

You wished he would stop talking. 

You wished a lot of things, but no one out there seemed to be in the mood to grant you wishes.

“Put your arms around my shoulder, yeah, that’s it.”

You followed his instructions; you had never seen this side of Aizawa before and you were already afraid of the man who n he was his calm, quiet self. You were terrified to think of what he could (would) do if you disobeyed.  

You could hardly think straight, a rhythmic “ah, ah, ah!” falling from your lips on each thrust of Aizawa’s strong hips. It felt so amazing, and it felt even more amazing when Aizawa began rubbing at your clit.

“I know you’re close. Fuck you’re so pretty, sound so gorgeous, I wanna fuck you until you pass out.”

Your stomach clenched at that, whether out of excited pleasure or fear that he would follow through on that. You felt that tingly feeling coming back, rising in your stomach, and you thrashed in Aizawa’s strong arms.

“Shouta, gotta stop! ‘M gonna pee, please! Shouta!”

You felt Aizawa’s length give a hearty twitch inside you, and it lit up your nerves, intensifying the feeling.

“Oh, oh honey, no… you’re gonna cum now.”  He breathed, his voice sounding strained.

You thrashed even harder, bringing a fist to hit his chest,  desperately pleading with him to let you stop bouncing in his lap.

“No, no no no, please! Lemme-lemme go I need….. need-“

The hand that wasn’t rubbing your clit came to capture your hands, bringing them behind your back. He used his grip on your wrists to begin jackhammering up into you, so hips moving so fast you felt like your brain was turning to mush. You really were going to pee.

“Let it out, let it out baby, it’s supposed to happen.” Was all he offered, panting harshly into your collarbone. You let out a choked sob, shaking your head as hard as you could, trying your best to hold it in.

Aizawa didn’t like that.

Not stopping the intense pace of his thrusts, Aizawa flicked at your clit, once, twice, before rearing his hand back as far as he could between your two bodies and slapping your clit.

The rising feeling exploded.

Indescribable pleasure coursed through your body, and you screamed, unable to hold it in. Aizawa’s thrusts increased in speed, and grew sloppy, his rutting extending your orgasm. With one final, bouncing thrust, Aizawa stilled with a heavy groan, and you felt warmth fill up your insides. You felt numb.

When the two of you had calmed down, Aizawa still gently humping you through his own orgasm, he had laid you back down on the bed. His length slipped out of you as he collapsed gently beside you, wrapping a sweaty arm around your waist. You wanted to cry at the feeling of his cum sliding out of you, dirtying the sheets between your legs. You barely had any tears left. Both of you were still breathing heavily, and Aizawa leaned over to pepper your face in gentle, chaste kisses.

“You did so good, I’m really proud of you.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t want him to be proud of you.

[thedarkrose17]

So finally posting this :D first thing for folks who don't know 14 terms for this cat Noct and bun Prom wedding thing:

Noct's a cat boy, Prom's a bunny boy (they're taller than the cats so Prom gets to be taller than Noct), Iggy is basically an elf, Gladio is basically like an orc but fleshy coloured not the green kind there is a green version in 14 though

Glams transform your clothing to look like something else and the fifth umbral moon is october :)

Anyhow story's under the cut enjoy :) also legit look up eternal bonding stuff it can be super extra and cheesy:

The miqo'te prepares for the biggest day in his life, the eternal bonding ceremony. His eternal bonding ceremony to be specific.

He styles his dark locks, slicks his bangs off his face and makes sure his fur on his tail and ears aren't sticking up. Ignis would kill him if he showed up looking like a mess.

Noctis bites his lip, careful of his little fangs. Last thing he wants is to draw blood.

He adjusts his black suit a little, he's normally used to the black leather cape his job brings him. Feels weird not having a familiar weight of his scythe on his back.

"How do I look?" he asks the elezen man nearby, Ignis.

"Rather lovely. You scrub up nicely." Ignis replies.

Noctis turns to face him, resting a hand on his hip.

"We don't all wear fancy glamours, Iggy."

Ignis rolls his eyes and stands up, heading over to adjust Noctis' suit jacket.

"Looking my best leaves a good first impression vs being covered in gore."

Noctis pouts. One time he did it. He thought he'd be fine. He was terribly mistaken.

Ignis walks away when he's pleased and looks at Noctis.

"Do you have everything you need? Wouldn't want to get half way there before remembering you forgot something important."

"Yes mother, I have everything." Noctis replies, he smirks.

"...You left the fishing gear behind right?"

Noctis winces.

"Maybe I have my bait, clothes and rod…"

"Noctis you won't have time." Ignis sighs.

Noctis empties out his inventory and leaves his fishing gear at the house.

The boys share a home together, they're a group: the chocobros.

Well FC or free company really. Fcs tend to get big homes (if they can afford it) to house all the party members plus it's cheaper than buying a home yourself.

At first, the free company was just three of them: Gladio a huge Paladin roegadyn he's known since he was a kitten and Ignis a tall ninja elezen who he's also known since he was a kitten.

Prompto joined their group five years ago. A viera refugee from Garlemald, fleeing from the cold empire. He'd fled to Noctis' home city, Limsa Lominsa and Ignis found the male viera roaming around lost near the docks.

After showing the then teenager around, he'd done a few quests and dungeons with the group, building a fast friendship with Noctis.

He was a sage, their group needed a healer. So eventually Noctis invited him to join their company, they grew closer and closer over time and the rest as they say is history.

They've been a couple for a few years now and recently just after the fifth umbral moon, Noctis proposed.

He'd picked up goldsmithery just to craft it with his own hands. He'd crafted two just in case Prompto said yes and to his relief the viera had through happy tears.

They'd received their blessings from the twelve and had them engraved. Right now the rings were at the chapel in the east shroud waiting for them.

Noctis adjusted his wristlet, Promise of devotion. They'd gone for the platinum plan. It was a once in a lifetime thing and Noctis thought they deserved the highest package.

"Are you ready?" Ignis asks.

"More than ready." 

* * *

They take Noctis' mount, a four seater car: Regalia type G. It's personally Noctis' favourite.

Ignis sighs on more than one occasion as he tells Noctis repeatedly to keep his eyes forward but the miqo'te is far too excited. Truly it's a miracle he doesn't crash.

The moment they reach outside of the chapel, they can vaguely see Prompto and Gladio in the distance, waiting. It looks like they're chatting.

Both in suits, Prompto's pure white and a light yellow flower crown around his head. Unlike Noctis he didn't dye the outfit and Gladio in a black and white best man suit with his fanciest black shoes.

Noctis practically launches himself out of the car mount, rushing forward before Ignis barely has the chance to get out before Noctis makes the mount disappear.

"Do try not to rush. Your groom wouldn't want you to faceplant."

"I'm fine!" Noctis calls back practically sprinting over to the blonde.

Ignis can't find it in himself to tell Noctis off again. He's never seen someone so excited for eternal bonding. Granted it's the first ceremony he's been invited to.

Prompto grins and rushes over to meet Noctis, pulling him in for a hug when the miqo'te gets close enough. He almost swings him around. Almost.

"You look amazing." he mutters to him.

Noctis looks up at him and smiles.

"You too."

The viera looks down at him and tears up. He smiles and kisses his head.

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry yet." he mutters.

"If it makes you feel better, my dad's probably gonna cry before we even speak."

Noctis lets go of Prompto and looks around.

"Where is he anyway?"

"Guest area." Gladio speaks up. "He's in there with Cor and everyone else."

"Dad called my linkpearl before you got here. Said your dad's already in tears." Prompto sniffles. "'Nea, Cindy and Luna's in there too."

"Plus Iris and my old man and Iggy's uncle." Gladio adds. "He keeps asking how you two are having your bonding ceremony before me."

Noctis snorts and looks over at Ignis who's turned a slight shade of red.

"Yeah, when's the ceremony?" Prompto teases.

Ignis adjusts his glasses while Gladio turns a shade of red.

"I'll get round to it." the roegadyn mutters.

Ignis clears his throat.

"Gladio. We should head to the guest room."

Gladio nods, taking tickets out for the pair. He heads over to a lady and hands them in.

"Don't keep your guests waitin'." he says before him and Ignis are teleported to the guest room.

Noctis and Prompto share a look, one of nervousness and happiness. They grab each other's hand and squeeze before letting go moments later.

"You ready?" Prompto asks.

Noctis heads forward pulling out his ticket, Prompto follows.

"More than ready."

With that the pair disappear. They're teleported to separate rooms specially for the grooms in this case. 

* * *

Noctis double checks over himself. He's handed a bell by a ceremony concierge and told to ring it when he's ready.

Noctis stares at the bell and smiles before deciding to ring it. He closes his eyes as he teleports.

* * *

He appears at the doors in a flash. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is his handsome viera husband, well future husband.

He smiles and grabs Prompto's hands. Prompto gives his hands a squeeze and the miqo'te feels himself melting.

There's orange and yellow flowers wrapped around arches, littered in pews and in pots on pillars near the entrance of the room. They're almost as bright as Prompto. Almost.

He gives him a look of fondness which Prompto returns before letting go of his hands.

The duo slowly walk down the aisle together, taking quick glances at each other and finding themselves smiling at the other.

* * *

They zone out from what the moogle says to them.  Focusing on each other until two other moogles summon their rings.

The rings float, a bright white orb coming off them.

Noctis holds out a hand and one ring floats over to him. He turns his hand over and watches the orb float and brings his other hand close.

Prompto holds out his hand ready as Noctis sends the orb over to him. He feels somewhat emotional watching it go over to the viera.

It floats over to Prompto's ring finger and in a flash, the ring appears on his finger. Prompto finds himself smiling as he holds out his hand for the other orb.

 He copies what Noctis did while Noctis holds his hand out waiting for the ring. 

Prompto feels himself beaming as he watches the orb float over to Noctis' hand and turn into a ring once it reaches his ring finger.

The duo stare at their rings with pure delight before flashing them at the moogle behind the altar. It's a weird tradition that's never gone away.

The moogle pronounces them as husbands and spins around, magic coming off the creature. For a second it gains see-through wings before they disappear.  

Noctis startles for a second as crystal-like wings sprout from his back. The same happens to Prompto too and he looks just as surprised to Noctis' relief.

The duo float up, Prompto reaching for Noctis' arms as he does.  Noctis lets him, wanting a grounding touch as well.

"Surprised they didn't give us a warning." Prompto whispers, making Noctis snort.

"Would have been nice huh?"

They float up to a huge window and lean forward, sharing their first kiss as a married couple. It's a little scary being up so high but weirdly romantic if not a little cheesy.

They hear their friends and family clap. Gladio whistling and Ignis saying something to him but honestly it's hard to hear.

The moment they part and float down, Noctis sees his dad sobbing tears of joy and Cor awkwardly rubbing his back.

He smiles and gives Prompto's hand a squeeze.

"He's probably gonna cry more after we leave on the chocobo huh?" Noctis mutters.

"100%" Prompto kisses his cheek.

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Dobbear! SYAC: The Master Review 6

I am so going to ruin someone’s childhood with that now, but...

guys, it had to be done!

Dashing and daring…

Courageous and caring!

Faithful and friendly…

 With stories to share!

 Doesn’t at all apply to this one artist…

Lesbian obsessed and  each nerddom’s nightmare!

Dobby BEAR!

Whinning here and there and everywhere!

Making claims that are beyond compare…

This is our Dobby-Bear!

Yeah, if you can’t guess, around now is the time I am going to put down the kids gloves and will really dig into why SYAC is garbage. And a huge factor into this, is in part Dobson’s self insert past 2012.

The existence of the blue bear as Dobson officially calls it (or Dobbear as most people call it) is in my opinion rather baffling already in terms of design choices.

I get e.g. that Dobson wanted to distance himself of his past humanoid self inserts as much as possible. But why of all things a bear?

The fact I am focused on that may sound weird, but hear me out for a bit. For starters, I know that Dobson likes western animation. And seeing how western animation has for the longest time been dominated by anthropomorphic animals, I can understand why he would redesign himself as a funny cartoon animal.

But there are at least three things that feel weird about it. First, Dobson had made it clear in the past that he hates furries. So him actually redesigning himself as an anthropomorphic animal is kinda weird

In fact, Dobson himself acknowledges that realization in one of his strips shortly after his fursona took over.

Second, of all the animals to choose from, why a bear? This question is in so far valid, as that bears are not necessarily one of the first to go animals, furries or western animators tend to go for when designing an anthro. And before any furries or anthro enthusiasts are calling me a hater, let me make one thing clear: I like anthropomorphic cartoon and comic characters too, and am okay with most furries. As long as you don’t have a diaper fetish, are a pedophile  or hurt actual animals, you can do and enjoy whatever you like.

But I am also aware enough of furry culture to know, that bear based anthros are most of the time hyper sexualized and muscular, connecting them to how the term “bear” is used in real life gay culture. Which is okay, I think it is just a funny coincidence that Dobson choose an animal, that most furries associate with a life style that Dobson is deeply afraid of, even if he claims to be an LGBT ally.

And as stated earlier, bears are not necessarily the go to animals for animators.

Don’t get me wrong, we all know some cartoon bears like Winnie the Pooh, Yogi Bear, Poh and the main cast of TaleSpin (btw, Kit Cloudkicker fan for life). But lets be honest here; ducks, mice, rabbits, canines, felines, equines and any other “easily to domesticate” animal in the real world tends to make better for easily recognizable cartoon characters than something that can reach a size of 3 meters tops and weigh over 500 pounds.

Truth be told, the pool of cartoon bears is so small, these are the first two things that came to my mind when thinking what may have inspired the Dobbear

And wouldn’t you know? According to Dobson, the Carebears were supposedly the main inspiration for his design.

 Unfortunately, this is also more or less the most I could find of Dobson addressing what went into the creation of the character.

Which kinda brings me also to the third issue as why I think the bear redesign is weird; It is too sudden.

One day Dobson draws himself as a shaved 20 something, the next day he is a fedora wearing Carebear clone, likely created and then rejected by Care Bear villain No Heart, as part of a plot to create a mole when conquering Care-A-Lot.

… and now I need to reevaluate my choices in life, that I was able to make such an elaborate Carebear joke.

It is just a change of design that in my opinion should have been addressed either outside of the comic or in context of it. Which it kinda is, but isn’t.

See, this is the first strip with the blue bear

And then only 13 strips or so later in something called “Continuity” is Dobson more or less willing to address the change…

And he does so in a passive aggressive manner, with Persistent Pam as a stand in for those asking him what is going on, while Dobson just dismissively continues working.

On one hand, you can argue that this is just the joke. The change happened, don’t bother with it, just enjoy what is still to come. And you know, I don’t want to make a rope out of everything Dobson ever posted, including that comic.

But then you have also to account for the fact, that Dobson would eventually associate himself with the blue bear so much, he made him his avatar and icon for his comics and online accounts. In fact, that one comic I posted WAY BACK in the first Master post of Dobson reminiscing how he started SYAC?

For reasons that are a bit confusing to me, he redrew himself (badly I have to add) as the blue bear in one of his earliest strips ever. The one where he belittles the manga fangirl for drawing manga. So I have to ask, what is going on here? Has Dobson increasingly decided to reset his past? Does he want to destroy any traces of his “human” self in his work to create the illusion to any new readers, that he never was as controversial of a person as he was and that there never was a need for him to reimagine and reinvent himself? Is this 1984? And how many of you realize that this paragraph is just me going conspiracy nuts for the sake of entertainment?

But still, it is kinda weird that he went to the bother of redrawing his human self in that one background sketch as a bear. Plus, I honestly think Dobson never even attempting to “explain” the change in the pages of his comics is a wasted opportunity for some decent jokes. Like every time Dobson tries to explain why he is a bear now, something interrupts him or we only get fragments of a story that if we put them together would be as ridiculous as the entirety of “Trapped in the Closet”.

I mean, the dumbest joke idea I have in mind is that Dobson went to build a bear to get a present for a family member. Instead he was build into a bear and later on successfully sued the company, which explains why he can afford to live despite not really working on comics anymore but lecture people badly about the evils of nerd culture.

So yeah, three major things about the design choice that more or less confuse me.

But here is the thing: Confusion is nothing compared to feeling genuine disdain for the design at hand. And compared to Dobson’s earlier human designs, Dobbear is just utterly unlikable.

A lot of that boils down to the following three facts:

1. From a certain point in time on (which I will cover in more detail later on) Dobson uses his bearsona primarily as a soapboxing mouth piece to talk about “politics” in nerd culture. Or at least what Dobson perceives as politics, coming off like a condescending jackass who believes among other things that white people are inherently incapable to identify with black people…

 … or that comic book shops have radicalized nerd culture, essentially calling them terror cells.

Which btw are so inherently offensive to me, I promise I will cover these two separately. One even sooner than the other.

2. If Dobbear is not talking about politics, he will tend to be a smug asshole to other people (most of the time strawmen) or their interests in one way or another. Being e.g. used by Dobson to express his disdain for criticism…

 or to mock legit criticism he had gotten by exaggerating things.

 All while also tending to make his critics look like inherent assholes.

These two facts, combined with Dobson’s average erratic behavior online on platforms such as dA, twitter and tumblr over the years, pretty much assured such a close association between the two, that a separation between artist and creation was not possible anymore, condemning them.

And for the record; Dobson was always a bit of a whinner who liked to act as if he was a better nerd than the average comic book fan. Otherwise, we would have not e.g. gotten Danny and Spot out of it.

But as the years went by in the last decade, Dobson turned from someone in his mid 20s, desperate to be seen as a “quirky” and likable internet persona (like certain internet reviewers), into a virtue signaling, lesbian obsessed asshole who likely regrets his life choices.

… Like certain internet reviewers.

But seriously, Dobson turned into someone who would flip the lid at something as ridiculous as Cheeto flavored chicken fries…

 While also being just the worst type of condescending nerd….

All while losing his mind about politics. Especially after Donald Trump became president

And just as Dobson became a radicalized left winged jackass who saw politics in everything he consumed, so did by default Dobbear, because Dobbear was not a character with his own personality, but a mouth piece.

Something I am about to get into detail in the near future. But till then, I want to cover in the next post the following third and final fact about Dobbear that really makes him unlikable to me: The fact he can’t be happy.

[universal-kitty]

   Anyways, time to post abt my two new crushes that I lowkey promised I would last night...

   (Yes, I don’t watch the anime/read the manga. DAMN RIGHT that isn’t gonna stop me from doing all of this. ✌ )

Human amongst ghouls. You woulda thunk that'd get them killed in a snap...but it helps that Uta has a bias for this one. 

(Thinking they met some time after he left leadership position in Clowns, head cooling off a bit. He sets up mask shop, a human happens to stumble in...and even though he should be shooing them out before any other ghouls show up, he pauses at realizing they haven't even noticed him; actually, they're admiring his masks on display. He calls out, surprises them, and over the course of that night.....they become friends.) 

Legit would rip anyone to shreds if they tried to hurt "his" human. Yes, "his." Not even romantically (yet); he just knows ghouls would def try to take advantage and eat them, so he plays extra hard guard duty when Akira's around as well as other ghouls. 

Getting Clowns to settle was the hardest part.....but people eventually left him alone. He still did his job, right? Guess having a human "pet" wouldn't be the worst thing.... 

They bond over art. Akira throws out a bunch of ideas, draws their own mask concepts, and Uta loves it. He quickly grows to love having them around, too. 

....So basically, Akira moves in and Uta has found his one (1) exception to the human race. The one person who inspires him.....aside from one more person.

Renji actually almost picks a fight Uta, originally worried Akira was there against their will or something. Uta is delighted for a fight, but also is forced to clarify that- no- this human is here willingly. All their stuff is here, too. What more do you want? 

Renji is quick to worry, so he ends up hovering around Uta's shop more to guard Akira. It gives Uta more room to work, but also more time to antagonize Renji....who attempts to ignore his annoying ass. 

Ends up also bonding to Akira in short order. They're someone he wants to protect- with their shy, gentle nature (and open need for approval)- and spending time looking over them has meant getting to know them more... Shit. 

He and Uta joke they're secretly a ghoul somehow, who can eat and enjoy human food; their power is controlling other ghouls to protect them. (It's the one thing they get to constantly agree on, silly as it is.) 

Uta and Akira would end up dating first, imo. They spend more time together, and Akira had feelings for him first...but then eventually has to work out how they feel about Renji, too. 

....Turns out Uta's fine with it, on the understanding he wants to kill and eat Renji. Akira agrees. Renji is informed...and gives it a cautious shot. (He's unsure how this all works, plus is used to having things he loves ripped away from him; it takes an adjustment period for him to settle and get comfy.)

(Obvs Uta never gets his wish, despite often mentioning it.) 

(Tbh, there's tension there that no one is acknowledging except Akira...and neither man will listen!!! Still, they're confident they can get the two doofuses to admit to something with time... Being in a V-style triad certainly won't last for long with Uta and Renji's tension; they're sure of it.)

[allykatsart]

I posted 379 times in 2021

91 posts created (24%)

288 posts reblogged (76%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.2 posts.

I added 388 tags in 2021

#ranboo - 79 posts

#dream smp - 77 posts

#reblog - 73 posts

#dsmp - 47 posts

#for the road - 29 posts

#my art - 27 posts

#ranboo fanart - 18 posts

#lol - 14 posts

#tubbo - 12 posts

#fanart - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#i saw this happen twice and im legit sure he did it by accident the first time and then it reminded him to do it a second time

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Ranboo is doing amazing at explaining Portal 2 and I wanted to draw him with a potato Dream.

Touch some grass.

158 notes • Posted 2021-01-28 03:27:36 GMT

#4

I mean... I knew Ranboo's first cannon kill was gonna be coming up eventually, I just didn't expect it to be Sam's computer.

176 notes • Posted 2021-03-04 05:45:18 GMT

#3

A New Chapter dropped for Promised Land and I immediately got to work. So… Spoiler warning I guess but it’s a little too late if you’re reading this. @cosmonaughtt

NEW UPDATE IS HERE GO CHECK IT OUT

More dreamons cause… I like the slimey smileyface and it absolutely terrifies me. Also cause I’m willing to bet it’s gonna come into play soon. Also I didn’t like my previous Ranboo design so here’s a better one. 

179 notes • Posted 2021-03-01 16:00:58 GMT

#2

:D I have no caption for this

185 notes • Posted 2021-03-22 16:51:25 GMT

#1

Some sketches from THIS AMAZING FANFICTION  by @cosmonaughtt It’s one of my favorites and things are going topsy turvy right now.

The Dreamons, btw, are just kinda random doodles. What a dreamon looks like is kinda… losely defined. I always saw them with the drippy mask cause that is creepy as fuck. But I wanted to try something vaugely bear shaped.

the rest are from the fic itself. HO BOI AM I WORRIED.

315 notes • Posted 2021-02-25 16:00:50 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

Huh, wasn't expecting this. Good to know!

[vlovers19]

Hi I don't send asks bcoz my English is not good so bare with me 🤧 but I see lot of Vm shippers thinking Vm's suddenly stopping vlives has something to do with their romantic interest in each other and i was also confused but then I saw this tarot reading i don't believe in these things but it made sense to me u should read it it's on Tumblr search for "bangtan all day" then search "Vmin tarot reading" and it really explains what was going on between vm in 2016/17/18. Btw i luv your blog ❤️😍

First of all, I do not believe in tarot reading and the reason is this. These days, there are a lot of fake people who will mislead others for their own benefit. They will tell you what you want to hear as long as it gets them more views and likes on you tube or on their blog. I have read lots of tarot readings about Bts and the funny thing is that not a single one of them drew the same conclusions. They always have different meanings especially when it comes to shipping.

Take for instance now, you will ask one tarot reader if Taekook is real. They will tell you that they are and that they have been in a relationship for years and have been hiding their feelings from the public. At the same time, ask another reader if jikook is real and they will tell you the same thing that they have been in a relationship for a long time also. Same thing with Yoonmin and other pairings. So what is the truth? There isn't because there are a lot of biasness. People just want to believe what they want to believe so these people tell you what you generally know but will twist it in a way that makes it look believable.

It is very few that might be actually legit but those few come from older more experienced tarot readers. People with many years of experience. Yet even with that, the outcome isn't a hundred percent sure because human beings are very unpredictable.

Ultimately, I do not believe in tarot readings especially when it comes to human emotions. I'd rather take a look at a situation and critically analyse it. I rely a lot on others interactions, my senses and my feelings rather than on what someone else says about a group of people they might not even know. They can say a bunch of things and people will just buy it because they desperately want to believe it. There are so many predictions especially when it comes to shipping.

I just read the post which you where talking about and I'm not really surprised because it's something i had already deduced even without reading a tarot card or something. if you are very observative and you take a look at vmin's relationship, trace their history, you will notice how things gradually changed between them. How there was an awkwardness between them from 2016 till 2018. And then you will ask yourself, why is this friendship of theirs so complicated?

We will roughly examine Vmin's history and check the possibility of them developing feelings for each other. Let me remind you, i mentioned possibility meaning it's not a certainty and so, we'll start from the beginning.

We all know how their friendship began. High school best friends who did everything together. Went to school together. They where basically inseparable. But then, they got into a kpop group with six other boys whom they where already acquainted with.

Where things going to remain the same between these boys? Definitely not. Things where going to change. They where going to find themselves drifting apart from each other whether they wanted to or not.

Taehyung has always been a social butterfly. He likes meeting a lot of people and trying out new things. It was due to this that him and Jimin even became close. For a while, they had each other and probably Jimin was so used to getting Taehyung's attention. In 2014, Taehyung posted a pic holding hands with Jimin. The caption on the picture was let's keep going for a long time, i only have you. If you ask me, these are very strong words. It basically means that no matter what happens, your bond with each other will be unbreakable. You'll be friends for ever. The person whom such promise is made to will never forget it. We are sure Jimin would never forget that. They have both used strong words to describe their relationship with each other.

"You are more than a close friend. You're my savior so you are very precious to me" Jimin 2015

"Jimin gives to me an existence that only a unique best friend can only have. When I'm full of worry, Jimin's answers give me strength. Recently, I was in a song writing trance and talked to Jimin about it for two hours. He's the warmest person I've ever met" Taehyung 2019

But their friendship wasn't perfect. They often fought. Jimin could attest to that. I don't have the clip here but Jimin personally revealed that him and Taehyung had once fought in the park but they eventually made up immediately after because they find it difficult keeping grudges with each other.

Moving forward, 2016 was sort of like the breaking point for BTS. They started to get more recognition with hit songs such as Blood sweat and tears, Fire. Their horizon is broadening. Things where bound to change for all the members of BTS. It was also around 2016 that Taehyung starred in a drama series titled Hwarang. During filming, he developed a very strong friendship with the rest of the cast popularly called Hwarang. Over time, they bonded and Taehyung began to hang out a lot with them.

There is something i want to add here, Jimin no doubt felt jealous during this time not only because Taehyung was hanging out with other people. There was one more important reason why i think he was upset. Now, Jimin had hyped up Taehyung's drama series showing his support for his friend such that there was a time Yoongi even made fun of him because of that only for Taehyung to begin professing love for his Hwarang hyungs.

Jimin and the rest of the members where upset about it but Jimin took it especially hard and Taehyung found it funny at the time. Jimin's anger was the fact that Taehyung always said I love you to the Hwarang members but never to Bts. It probably left him feeling like Taehyung didn't value them as much anymore. Taehyung responded that he felt awkward saying such a thing to Bts because he considers them as his family. Here's an interview vmin had in 2017. If you read the excerpt below, you will find that this indeed caused some of rift in their relationship.

Now, here is where i think something happened. Because Taehyung wanted to try new things didn't mean that he was getting bored of being with Jimin. He had just always been someone with a big heart who loves having a social network around him. Jimin has been well aware of this. He knows what Taehyung is like but then, i guess Jimin started feeling like he had to be a priority in Taehyung's life thus things probably started to happen. Probably, Jimin wanted him to be more affectionate. Taehyung starts getting stuffy due to Jimin's clinginess. They probably argued a lot over this then the push and pull thing started. Taehyung starts getting confused and decides to become independent from Jimin to give himself space from him. Jimin is the type who tries to mantain peace. He might have tried to ignore the tension going on but Taehyung can't do that which causes a strain in their relationship. Why i do believe this might have happened is because these two don't just see each other as only friends. They see each other as being more than that so therefore they take each other very seriously and they would definitely get into lots of arguments when they feel one of them is taking their friendship for granted. You can see this from one of BTS interviews but then again, they where asked this same question some time later. We can see that Vmin's answers are totally different from the previous ones which clearly showed that there was a change in their relationship.

2016 marked a change in vmin where they probably started to realize that their relationship wasn't just the normal one. They had to determine what it was they really wanted. Taehyung was probably more affected by this than Jimin which could be why he was the one who decided to draw a line between them. This had nothing to do with Big hit or the other members. It was just between vmin. Probably, the other members where even unaware of what was going on. I want to add here that Jimin later released his first solo song later that year titled lie and when you listen to the song or listen to the lyrics, you will get the feeling that Jimin was in pain, trying to run away from a never ending cycle of torment brought about by his lies. (I have an analysis of this one). Spring day was released around this time also and i also have a feeling it involved vmin. I think the death of Taehyung's grandmother sort of recovered their bond. Jimin was really a comfort to Taehyung at this time.

2017 seemed a better year for them. Though the group started getting busier and more popular, you would notice a change in the relationship between vmin. They started getting more expressive in their feelings. The hand holding, the I love you handsigns began. The hugs and clinginess. Take a good look at vmin isac in 2017 and you will understand what i mean. Totally different from their past behaviors in previous isac.

They obviously patched things up between themselves. Their relationship improved for a while. but the vlives and the selcas stopped. They also started doing independent things, having their separate group of friends.

There was still a boundary between them. However, it was also at this time that they started to release songs. Taehyung began with his song 4: o'clock which he released with RM and that song was inspired by a feeling Taehyung had when he was waiting for Jimin at a park. Serendipity could be about vmin but it wasn't a song Jimin wrote by himself which is why i'm a bit confused about it but there was some element of his own emotions inside. However, when the music video got released, i was a bit convinced that the song had something to do with the relationship between vmin (i also have my own analysis about this) It was at this time that they took up the representation of sun and Moon as depicted in DNA, serendipity by Jimin, singularity by Taehyung. Let's not forget Taehyung's bon voyage letter to Jimin and how he cried so much signifying that they had both gone through a lot in their friendship. Jimin's response to it clarifies the whole thing, even when he added that no one else not even the members would understand why Taehyung cried except for him or how Jimin himself felt after reading Taehyung's letter. The trip helped them to understand their feelings for each other. Pretty deep if you ask me. Watch the video for your self and you'll understand what I'm getting at.

However, 2018 was where a big challenge set in. Their popularity skyrocketed to the max. All eyes where on the group both locally and internationally. They all started to get more and more separated from each other. Their private lives was intruded upon especially due to their documentary burn the stage: the movie where they had to constantly be recorded. They also started to have separate rooms whenever they lodged into hotels. I guess it was at this time they all started having their separate apartments. They weren't together all the time like before. Much was demanded from this group and this affected Jimin a lot because he talked about the feeling of loneliness he was experiencing at that time and Jimin isn't someone who can stay alone. According to him, he couldn't rely on the other members because they too where going through the same thing he was going through. It was also at this time Jimin started to write his own song promise. It was the first song he had personally written. He revealed that the song was about himself but there where clearly two characters in that song. Jimin and an unknown person.

No one would have thought that the group was considering disbanding at that time. It wasn't until 2019 when receiving their dasaeng that Jin revealed this secret. We can only imagine how bad things where for them to consider disbanding. It was also at this time that Taehyung's grandfather died and it was also here that we see the closeness and bond between Jimin and Taehyung especially during bon voyage Malta where Jimin did everything he could to comfort Taehyung. I think the death of Taehyung's grandfather sort of restored their bond. Jimin was still writing promise around that time. When the song released, he revealed that at first, the song was a dark song but later, he found it difficult to complete it because things started to get better in the group. Are we starting to see the pattern?

On October, Taehyung revealed the Christmas song he had wanted to release with Jimin but which was eventually rejected due to the lyrics. Things had improved so well between them that Taehyung wanted to sing a song with Jimin and when he couldn't do that, he couldn't help unburdening his anguish with Army. He was clearly upset about it.

Jimin released promise as a free song on sound cloud meaning it was a song he sang from the heart. It wasn't for his personal gain. What was strange was that Jimin released promise on December 31st Taehyung's birthday. He released it exactly after midnight and guess who took the pictures for promise cover. Taehyung himself. Are we still seeing the pattern? Exactly one month later, Taehyung released his own solo titled Scenery on January 31st and on listening to the lyrics one will get the indication like he's trying to woo someone. Jimin was particularly hyped about the song that he accidentally spilled about it even before it's release. On August 2019, Taehyung also released his song winter bear. Plenty of indications also point that the song is about Jimin.

Anyway, 2016 till 2018 was a challenging time not only for Vmin but for the rest of the members but it was a challenge that was necessary to create a better bond between Vmin as we can clearly see in 2019 and even from the beginning of this year. The love and affection between vmin is obvious. There are still challenges but i think they have learned over time on how to deal with their differences. Like I've said before, I do not believe that they're dating but they know how they feel about each other. They are aware of that but there are priorities and it's just going to be weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved if they give in to such feelings.

This is just my own speculations concerning the relationship between vmin. I don't need a tarot reading to clarify this much. Though, it's only a speculation, we have to admit that it sort of adds up. This is only a general take on my opinion concerning Vmin and the possibility of a relationship between them so it's not really an analysis. Anyway i enjoyed writing this and if you're interested in hearing my thoughts on vmin, do let me know and thank you so much for liking my blog.

[pepplemint]

Fanfic Recc:s

I had this since a long time back actually, I think. I figured I might as well post it and give ya’ll something lol.

  —————————-——————-———GEN——————————-——————-———-

Room with a View by isabeau25 (10,089 words): Lance manages to carve out a space for himself in a hidden part of the castle. The rest of the team find their way there eventually. ———- This was one of those fics I didn’t really expect to get as into as I did. Is really sweet and focus on the original team as a family. You know how you sometimes see art where everyone in a giant cuddlepile and it’s just too sweet and everyone is so comfortable with each other? This have got the same feeling, plus some Langst

————————————————-  Accepting Amelioration by XILVerify (4887 words): Shiro trusts his team with his life, but after what he and his daemon experienced at the hands of the Galra… well, trusting them with his soul is the one thing he just can’t bring himself to do. Or so he thinks. Daemon AU. Post season 1 speculation.  ———- Shiro and Hunk is a pair that have gotten very little bonding time in canon, so seeing them together here put in a situation where they are trapped in a distressing urgent situation is both interesting and engaging. I don’t know much about His Dark Materials or daemons to be honest but it’s explained well enough within the fic and I enjoy these representations very much. WARNING: Mentioned previous-to-fic assault

————————————————- The Purity of Sin by IcyPanther (105,002 words): Lance's first diplomatic mission had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Instead of allies on planet Macka, he and Keith found only enemies who want to sacrifice them to their Goddess. The two Paladins are going to have to work together to survive the harsh desert, severe injury, relentless pursuit, with the added problem that in addition to losing copious amounts of blood, Lance is losing his senses one... by one... by one... ———- I’m sure most people have heard of this fic already but god damn it is INTENSE. You will feel stuff. I am terrible at keeping attention and tend to stay away a bit from longer fics but I couldn’t stop reading. WARNING: Explicit violence, religious rituals, character death

————————————————- Bury the Sun by maychorian (26,734 words): Sam Holt has been a captive of the Galra for more than a year. He has lost all hope of escape or rescue. But when a new prisoner arrives in his underground cell, a boy who seems to carry the sun in his smile, everything begins to change. ———-    An unexpected pair as Pidge’s dad kinda takes Lance too under his wings. This is really sweet at the same time as you can never forget the terrible situation they are really in. WARNING: Violence and mentions of torture

————————————————- I'll Be Your Journal by BreakTheDawn (5756 words): “Lance,” Hunk had pleaded. “I can’t believe you just did that to me,” Lance covered his face as his breaths started to become heavy and uneven. Looking back, Hunk doesn’t know how he knew, but he did. He knew at that point that if he didn’t fix that. Didn’t fix Lance. Then he would lose him. Hunk could not let that happen

....

Or, that one time that Hunk crossed the line. ———-  I just love Hunk and I love seeing his perspective. Also Hunk and Lance friendship... There’s too little of it in the world honestly.

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The Cost of Winning by IcyPanther (9596 words): "The Blue and Green Paladins serve no purpose to the Empire," the Galran commander smirked at his bound captives. "And as such you have no use except as arena fodder." He chuckled. "Give us a good show before you die." / Lance is determined to protect Pidge and save her from the arena. She will not die here. Over his dead body. Hopefully it's not quite that literal of a promise. ———- I’m starting to see a pattern here uuuh anyway I love this fic, I love Pidge and Lance working together. WARNING: Violence, Character Death

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A Little Unsteady (Hold Onto Me) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (13,385 words): Takashi Shirogane is nine years old when he holds his brother for the first time. “I’m here,” he’d whispered to his fussing baby brother, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”  And Keith stopped crying. He didn’t laugh; he looked up at Shiro with big, skeptical eyes. A challenge. Like this tiny person was saying ‘oh yeah, prove it’. And Shiro, newly nine years old, promised that he’d prove it.Shiro and Keith's childhood in moments. ———- There’s a lot of Keith’s background story here that I fell really strongly for (though not canon compliant, I just like it.). If you’ve ever had that kind of relationship where you are like an older sibling figure, you can really feel this in your bones. WARNING: Child Abuse

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Leave Them Stunned and Stuttering by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) (10,527 words): Five Times Shiro couldn't be knocked off balance, one time he was, and one time he trusted the team to see. Or, when sibling bonding goes wrong. ———- A little bit Everyone/Shiro. It’s fun to see the team all bond over trying to mess with Shiro.

———————————————— Fatalistic Daydream by Engineer104 (27,873 words):  Being a low-ranking Galra soldier stationed in a virtual backwater isn’t stopping Pidge from finding out what happened to her family. But the secrets she’s keeping from her friend Keith on top of the unwanted attention of an Altean prisoner-of-war are definitely...slowing her down. ———- Interesting AU where the Galra and Alteans are actively at war. Technically this is tagged as Pidge/Lance but there isn’t anything actually romantic so I feel it fits the gen category.

——————-——————-——-—--—--SHANCE———————————-——————-—-

Racing on the Thunder by Jennypen (5435 words): Freshman Shiro is pretty hung up on Senior Lance at the Garrison, but no-one else shares his opinion. At least, not until a hostage situation changes everything. ———-   I love this!! Baby Cadet Shiro (who are not so baby-looking) pining after the older Cadet Lance, and Lance is a BAMF.

————————————————- Closer to Your World by CastleSL (29,576 words): Students will be carefully selected and tested for the opportunity to fly out to Kerberos for scientific research. Only one student may be selected. Application and Testing will commence during the third trimester, June 21XX. There was more on the page, statistics and requirements and more details, but it was legit. The flyer was printed on standard Garrison announcement paper, the document signed by the Dean and board of directors. The chance to go to Kerberos. Hunk took a moment to think, then clapped his hand on Lance’s back, smiling. “Well, I’m rooting for ya, buddy.” He said, and Lance beamed like that was all he needed in the world. ———-   It’s been a while since I read this fic but it’s nice with a lil longer Shance fic - it’s also really well written. A sequel is also being written right now that is also good. WARNING: Mentioned character death

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Full Moons and the Mornings After by Impetus (6496 words): Shiro is an unlucky werewolf who can’t control himself during the full moon. Lance really needs to stop letting stray wolves into his apartment. ———-   This is like my favourite werewolf fic ever hahahaha. I love when werewolves are portrayed as big dumb dogs. It’s really cute and they’re both big pining messes.

————————————————-  Jaded by Impetus (8728 words): Shiro is the leader of Voltron. He is the strength and the calm in the face of the thundering storm of the Galra. Lance is someone Shiro doesn't quite understand. Shiro is someone Lance wants to understand with all of his heart. ———-   WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- The Luxury of Lacking Confidence by oldmythologies (13,695 words): They knew how it worked; Lance was always the damsel in distress and Shiro was the big strong hero who came to save him. When Shiro’s lion is hit by a vicious attack, he is knocked off course and careens into an ice planet. Lance finally elects himself the hero and has to save Shiro from his own injuries and the Galra ships searching the planet. Shiro, feverish and low on blood, is forced to confront his demons; Lance has to learn how to fight them off. ———-    WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- Tris for Guys by quiddative  (2907 words): It was all Keith’s fault—him and his stupid biceps showing up at intramural basketball two nights ago without his trademark cropped jacket (which was almost as outdated as his mullet) and making everyone swoon. And what was worse, even Shiro, their hotter-than-hell yet sweeter-than-sugar RA and current object of Lance’s helpless affections, seemed impressed. He actually went up to Keith after his team had pummeled everyone else into the ground, clapped him on the back, and uttered the words that Lance had been daydreaming about for approximately fifteen thousand years: “Great job, buddy!” So, as soon as he got back to his room that night, he logged into his student account and signed up for the first available complimentary personal training session the college’s gym offered. ———- The story of how Lance thirsts so hard he even makes the ultimate sacrifice and goes to the gym. Lance’s “voice” here is great.

————————————————-  Slowly, Surely by needchocolatenow (2997 words): Shiro is tasked with an assignment to deliver important cargo to Altea. Lance is his second. -- Or, the fic in which Shiro and Lance take a road trip through space in an unfortunately named shuttle. ———- Just a really cute story where humans have moved into space and Shiro pines and is as awkward as a kid with his first crush.

————————————————-  ordinary people are everywhere by lein (5625 words): The note, situated in the bottom right corner, reads simply: ‘Will you be my Valentine? Yes or yes.’ Surrounded by little hearts and unaddressed, it seems a little out of place nestled next to the carefully crafted drawings of both pigeon lance and the deviantart stamp Pidge sent to Keith that made him cry for upwards of an hour before he had wordlessly crawled atop the table to recreate it as closely as he could. Shiro grins as he picks up a black dry erase marker and circles a yes. ———- This fic is so underrated! It’s super cute and I fell in love already at the summary, but the fic in itself is really well written and nice.

————————————————- Lance's Guide on How to Embarrass Yourself in Front of Your Insurance Adjuster by Eilera (2035 words): “This is for my mama, Hunk. She was so worried about this whole thing. They just finished renovating. I’m not gonna let her down. If my name isn’t Lance fucking Hernandez Martine-holy fuck he’s gorgeous.” “Oh no. No. Lance do-“ Lance didn’t even hear him because there was a fucking gorgeous god walking up the path to the front door.

(In which Lance is helping his mama with an insurance claim and he was not prepared for the smoking hot insurance adjuster.)

———- Lance is Lance and this was funny and cute.

————————————————-  Left Side Or Right? by liddie (2698 words): When Lance accidentally locks himself out of his dorm room he finds himself on Shiro's doorstep hoping that this falls under Shiro's offer of  "Let me know if you need help with anything."

Luckily for him, it does. ———- Piiiining I love it...... I really do

————————————————-  Lactose IntolerLance by humblenoodle (1807 words): Shiro's aware, at least, that his current course of action is humiliatingly stupid, and he should really stop while he's still ahead.

But it’s not like he could just casually waltz up there and ask for Lance’s number, maybe even a date. That’s not how this worked. ———- 

This was really funny and cute, pining Shiro at his most awkward.

————————————————- Define Dancing by starbear (5495 words): “Dancing?” Shiro made a small, scoffing little laugh. “You’re kidding, right? “What? No,” Lance said, “Why?” “I can’t dance.” “Lies.” “No, I’m serious,” Shiro said, “Two left feet. I’m terrible.” “That I absolutely do not believe. I bet you’ve just never really tried.” Lance stood, abruptly, an unsettlingly determined look on his face. “C’mon, let’s do it.” “Do...what?” “Dance, duh,” Lance said. “Let’s go.”

Shiro learns how to dance, and falls in love along the way. ———-  I tend to like fics that are snippets through time, but this one stand out :)

————————————————- Ten Days by WashiPuppy (??? words): Most people never got to learn exactly what their mind is worth, how resistant it is. Lance knew now, and the answer was ten days. It only took ten days for something in him to break that he wasn't sure he could get back.

Shiro had survived a year and come out as someone still able to smile, to be kind and gentle with those around him. Scarred, but not shattered.

Lance wore no new scars. But he still hadn't made it ten days.

———- So you like slow burn? Well what about the characters doesn’t even interact for three thirds of the fic lmao. Honestly though this fic is really good and well written! The focus isn’t on romance at all and I even forgot about it a couple of times, but none the less it’s 100% worth the read.

————————————————-  Black to Blue by PuppetMaster55 (153,825 words): Lance, the undisputed (no longer, since he finally got the team to stop questioning his position like a month ago) leader of Voltron finds himself in the absolute strangest scenario: being the Blue Paladin.

Lance, still finding his place on team Voltron, wakes up to the weirdest world: one where he's the Black Paladin.

OR, I take a universe where Lance was always the Black Paladin and have him swap bodies with canon Lance, throwing both sets of teams for a trip.

———- I mean I assume most people have already read this fic but just in case someone missed it? Read it. This is the Lance as Black Paladin au you always wanted.

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Breaking Wind by AshesTheTerrible (10,044 words): Shiro is settling into his new body and finally trusting himself to rekindle things with Lance. Intimacy proves to be a lot of stumbling after such a long time without. And nobody is safe from awkward bodily functions during sex, not even Shiro. ———- Like the mature dumbass I am I love this fic about farting. It’s really well written and have such a good, soft relationship though it’s worth it ok.  WARNING: Explicit

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ticket to ride by mettaverse (2085 words): The officer raises his hand. “You were going thirty miles over the speed limit for a date?” Lance opens his mouth and the officer lowers his sunglasses just to glare at him. “Sixty in a thirty lane. You know how fast that is?” “Um. Fast? Pretty fast?” “Dangerously fast.” He pulls a pad of paper out of his pocket. “I'm gonna have to give you a ticket.” ———-  Short AU-fic that I just find really cute

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How to Dig Your Own Grave by flyingisland (8804 words): The complete anthology, written from first-hand experiences and mortifying, soul-crushing interactions between Lance McClain and one very attractive neighbor. ———- This fic is kinda wonderful. Lance mess up so bad over and over and it’s hilarious. It’s all fine though in the end ;)  WARNING: Explicit, Sex Work (Pornography)

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easier to lose by quiddative (???? words): Shiro is at the peak of his NHL career. Unfortunately, being famous has its downsides, particularly when it comes to dating. And that’s on top of the fact that he’s still in the closet.

However, a chance meeting with college student Lance, who seems to be the only person in the entire city who doesn’t know who he is, gives him hope that maybe he won’t die alone after all. Just as long as he can keep his identity a secret. ———- This fic isn’t actually finished when I add it here, but I expect it to be soon. I kinda love sport-AU’s not gonna lie. This one hit me right in the weak spot.

———————-——————-—-—--—--KLANCE————————-——————-————-

Five Minutes by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot (4176 words): When Keith is unwillingly tricked into a speed dating session by Shiro, he finds himself meeting several unusual characters. The most unusual of all, however, is the loud one in the letterman jacket. He's obnoxious and has no regard for the other people around him and he keeps making his way closer and closer to Keith within the ring rotations. Can Keith pull himself together to get through this meeting? Or will he find himself interested by the end of their five minutes? ———-   I like Keith being stubbornly set on being bitter and hating things he’s dragged into lol. Even when he kinda really doesn’t.

————————————————- gladly break my heart (for you) by godsensei (1747 words): “You want me to... touch you?” Lance asks, a mildly dubious look on his face. Keith feels his face go hot. “Yes! You touch everyone else. I just-- we’re boyfriends, right?” he asks, feeling stupid, but so hopeful. Lance searches his face for a moment, before his eyes soften, a sweet smile blooming on his lips. ———-   This is just fluff and touch starved Keith and I’m all for it. ————————————————- i want your heaven and your oceans too by mothpoem (11,610 words): “Not—not that you’d be my rebound! I mean, you’d be helping me take my mind off of this guy, but to be a rebound, I’d have to have dated him first, I think, and he doesn’t even know I like him, so. You wouldn’t be a rebound. At worst, we become badass partners-in-crime with a grudging respect for each other, at best, we’re soulmates for life and this is fate trying to help us find happiness. So. Um.” Lance swallows and looks up at the Blade of Marmora soldier through his lashes. “What say you?” They look down at their hands for a moment, fingers twisting together in deep thought. Then they’re pulling their gloves off, revealing pale, half-bruised knuckles of the human variation, and their mask is dissolving, giving way to big blue-purple eyes and an achingly familiar jet-black cowlick. “Who,” says Keith Kogane, in that low-pitched rumble that makes Lance’s stomach roil in the good way—holy fuck—“is this guy you’re trying to get over?” ———-   I drew a scene from this fic so I guess in a way I’ve already recc:d it, but I’m gonna do it again. I love awkward misunderstandings and Lance’s rambling in this fic is both kinda hilariously in character and well written. WARNING: Canon-typical violence ————————————————- Keith's Type by AmbitiousSkychild (24,050 words): “How would anyone notice what anyone else’s type is in the middle of all this?!” Matt demanded, laughing. “What’s Keith’s type?” Lance blurted out like an idiot. “It’s… obvious,” Pidge said. “He gets all flustered over shitty puns and most physical comedy. And have you seen the way he stares at Hunk when he’s going on about the mechanics of something? Like how the lions work? I’ve literally seen him blushing when Hunk goes into explanation mode.” “So, you think he has a crush on Hunk?” Lance squawked. “No. You bonehead,” Pidge laughed. “I’m saying any dad-joke-telling, klutzoid with good grades has probably got a pretty good shot at Keith.” Or: It figures that after years of getting it hilariously wrong face-to-face, Lance finally gets good at talking to Keith through a screen, which is, like, one of his biggest accomplishments. Then, Pidge makes the comment that Keith has a type, while heavily implying that it's Matt. But, listen, with everything going on with Voltron, the coalition, the Blade of Marmora, and Coran, Lance isn't going to get distracted worrying about it. Ask anyone, he's always been great with measuring levels of importance.... ———-   I kinda have a weakness for the emotional jealousy, the one that isn’t angry and hot but insecure and hits where it hurts. And yeah. Matt and Keith have (kind of?) a past together and Lance is alone-ish after Keith left the team. ————————————————- King and Reaper by PastelClark (35,512 words): Allura had told them once that Voltron was their destiny. If anything, Keith thinks, Lance had proven that while finding the lions might have been on the dime of some greater plan, compliance to their supposed fate was not strictly required in any remote sense of the word. In fact, by Lance's standard of doing things it was all rather bullshit. (Or: The story of the destruction of Earth and its aftermath, feat. questionable science in regards to weapons of mass destruction, gratuitous Star Wars references, theoretical chess games with the emperor of most of the known universe, explosions, the greatest bromance of all time, the worst romance of all time, far too many guns, concussions, extreme misuse of the French language, awkward flirting, and Lance in an overly-dramatic trench coat.) ———-   BAMF rebel leader Lance and mental images that kinda kick you in the inspiration, honestly. Everyone is older and different. Voltron kinda failed.

————————————————- Keith the Amnesiac by jilliancares (8878 words): In which an accident leaves Keith temporarily without his Voltron-filled memories and he may or may not spill a few of his better kept secrets to Lance. ———-   This story is great if nothing else because it feels so realistic in how it handled Keith’s amnesia. This is very much just what it’s like to have those small differences in how you perceive the world vs how you normally do.

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Let's be (dis)honest by noero (1581 words): Lance is backed against his bathroom wall, one hand gripping his sink and the other nervously combing through his hair. Keith is in front of him — down on his knees — calling Lance’s bluff.  ———-   Nothing really to say about this other than I liked the competitiveness between Keith and Lance and it was fun. WARNING: EXPLICIT

——-—--—--——————-——————-OTHERS——————-——————-——————-

Sun In Our Eyes by MatchaMochi (9349 words): “Think you can beat me hotshot?” He doesn’t falter, just nods and holds up his sniper. His hands don’t shake, his lips don’t tremble, (his heart though, that wild erratic thing stuttering in his chest, makes the blood rush to his ears, makes him think: Oh god.) ///

In which Kinkade pines and Lance has too many feelings. ———- 

So this is THE Kinkance fic, but just in case someone didn’t read it yet - I’m gonna add it here. (RYAN/LANCE)

———————————————— i'm willing to wait for it, i'm willing to wait for you by ThePackWantstheD (10,338 words): Lance McClain is hard to hate. He’s easy to love. Or: James Griffin falls fast and hard for a charismatic cargo pilot, dates him for six months, and then waits for him for five years.

———-

This ship isn’t something I ever considered until this fic, but heck it got me on board. I like everyone’s reactions and James’ belief. (JAMES/LANCE)

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no need to say goodbye by smolsarcasticraspberry  (13,557 words): The juniberry tree blossoms every seven years, and when it does, a gateway opens up to another world - a world that Shiro first explores as a child. There, he meets Allura. They do not speak the same language, but children do not need words to play. Every seven years, when the gateway opens again, Shiro steps through to visit the girl he knows on the other side. But the gateway only stays open as long as the juniberry flowers bloom... 

———- This is one of those stories that are simply wonderful, even if you’ve never seen the original show because it build up such a cool new world in the relatively few words. It also deals with Shiro in the aftermath of war and pining. (SHALLURA)

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Drip Like Honey by avoidingavoidance (7171 words): In which Romelle recommends a hot Tumblr boy to Allura, but when she checks him and his stream out, she finds that he seems awfully familiar.

———- Obviously this is right up my alley. Da-mn. Allura is top as heck. WARNING: Explicit (SHALLURA)

———————————————— Frostbite by Rueitae (6109 words):  Pidge is a renowned super villain. Lance is a hero in training. During their latest encounter, Lance pushes his powers to their limit and Pidge has some soul searching to do.

———-  I doooo love superhero AU’s and this is both super sweet, funny, well written and paints a clear picture of the universe which we are thrown into. I like it a lot. (PLANCE)

[spartanguard]

something in the water, part 1

Summary: Emma is sent to investigate a supposed sea monster appearance in her hometown. Thankfully, her family there knows her secret: that at night, she transforms into a swan. And she knows that whoever the universe thinks her soulmate is, as dictated by the tattoo on her side, won't be there. Though maybe she was wrong to assume that. And when did a merman start hanging out in the ocean near Storybrooke?

rated M (eventually) | 5.5k | AO3

A/N: Here it finally is—my story for @cssns!! I came up with the idea ages ago but never really found time to write until this event came up. It should be about 7 chapters, but of course I was silly and signed up to post on the first day of band camp, so the next chapter won’t go up until next week, and probably once a week from there on. Hope you like it, and thanks to @kmomof4 for organizing this! I’ll be posting accompanying art as well!

When it came to belief systems, Emma Nolan wasn't what most people would call normal. (Actually, in most regards, she wasn't.)

She didn't place much stock in things like having luck or wishing on stars. Neither had ever really been on her side.

She hadn't quite made up her mind on God (or gods, or goddesses, or whatever). She took care of herself just fine.

The supernatural, though—vampires, zombies, magic, et cetera? There wasn’t much choice when it came to her belief in that, given the way her life had gone and the people she tended to hang out with—even if society as a whole still thought it was all fiction.

But the one thing that everyone believed in—and that Emma remained skeptical on, despite all the proof she'd seen—was soulmates. The idea of a predestined love dictated by some higher being before you were born and only verified by a random, tattoo-like birthmark seemed forced at best and unreliable at worst. It's not like the marks spelled it out—there was plenty of room for interpretation of the symbolism of each soulmark, which also meant plenty of room to have a heart broken.

She had trusted in them, once upon a time, when she met a guy named Neal who’d spent a great deal of his childhood on a ship. The mark splashed across her ribcage made sense with that, and his—of what looked like a feather on his bicep—seemed appropriate for someone like her, and with a secret like hers.

But then he found out what she was hiding, and things got awkward. And then he met Tamara and the feather turned out to be a palm leaf (apparently, that’s what that name means or something). And then things were said—tame things like, “it’s not you, it’s me and my destiny and blah-blah,” and hurtful things like “I couldn’t love someone like you anyways. Who could?”

Which meant Emma was the one left with the broken heart.

So what she’d once thought was a curse actually helped keep her heart safe, and since not everyone had a soulmark, it was easy to pretend she didn’t either.

And like he said, who could love someone like her, anyways?

Actually, she lied; there was one more thing she didn’t believe in, as presented to her by her boss one quiet Thursday afternoon.

“A sea monster? You can’t be serious, Regina.”

“Hey, I didn’t come up with it. I’m just the one who took the call.”

“Well, did you do a sanity check on the caller?”

“I didn’t have to; I know she’s insane. It’s Cruella Feinberg.”

“As in Crazy Cruella from back home? The one obsessed with dogs?” Emma and Regina both hailed from the tiny Maine town of Storybrooke—the definition of quaint. It was really no wonder they’d both escaped to Boston as soon as they could.

“The very one. And while she may have lost touch with reality, her money certainly has not.”

Emma sighed and leaned back in her desk chair. “How much?”

From where she was perched on the corner of Emma’s desk in the office of their bail bonds-slash-private investigation firm, Regina slid a folded up sheet of paper to her. Emma quirked an eyebrow with curiosity; Regina wasn’t typically one to keep things on the down-low like this, unless it was an exceptionally large payout. And this did not seem like the kind of case with one of those; usually, the people who hired them for this kind of situation were broke and/or not mentally sound, so they just played Ghostbuster—convinced the banshee or whatever it was to quit being weird, and charged the client only half of the original amount.  

Emma picked up the slip and opened it. Boy, was she wrong this time. “Holy shit!” She exclaimed at the almost-six-figure sum. “This can’t possibly be real.”

“It is; I made her put up half up front to make sure she wasn’t joking. She did it without batting a heavily lined eye.”

Emma checked her desk calendar—was it April Fools or something? “What’s the catch here? This is too good to be true.”

“No catch. Unless me forcing you to take some paid time off counts.”

She scoffed. “This hardly seems like something to use my vacation time on.”

“It’s not. But it’s a two-week assignment in Storybrooke, and I’m not expecting this to take much effort on your end. Actually, I think it will end up being kind of perfect for you. Plus: you deserve it, Emma.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her desk chair, huffing; there was a reason she threw herself into work. It left less time for thinking, or being social, or any of those other things that tended to put Emma outside her comfort zone or onto things she’d rather not focus on.

It had been a while since she’d been home, though, and it might be nice to see her brother and sister-in-law...but it also seemed like she was taking advantage of the situation. “Are you sure, Regina? I know you’ve been busy with the Gold case; don’t you want me to stay and help with that?”

For the past several months, Regina had been investigating the disappearances of various supernatural beings—occasionally, they did get hired on legit cases from within their hidden community—with the most recent being an acquaintance of theirs, Tinkerbell, a fairy. A surprising number of her kind had gone missing, along with a werebear named Merida, a couple vampires, and a jeweler with a Midas-like touch. They had yet to find any solid leads, but all of the cases seemed to have a tie to the mysterious Mr. Gold. Emma had never met him herself, but his reputation alone had her worried for Regina’s safety whenever they met; there was no telling when a witch as gifted with magic as Regina was would be next.

(Having a boss that was also a member of the more mythical side of society—and aware of any potential limitations that might put on one’s available working hours—was certainly a perk to this job on its own, odd cases like the one currently in front of her notwithstanding.)

“I’ve got no leads right now, so there’s not much to help with,” Regina answered with a shrug. “Seriously, go spend some time with your family; have a girls night or two with Ruby; air out your feathers a bit.”

Emma gave a hard side-eye at that last comment—Regina could never resist a good bird reference around her—but she was out of arguments against taking the assignment.

She chewed on her bottom lip a bit before saying, “Promise you’ll call me if you need me back here?”

“Promise,” Regina answered, going so far as to draw an x over her heart with her finger. For Regina, that meant business.

“Then I guess I’m off to Storybrooke.”

After a quick call to her sister-in-law Snow, a fleeting trip to her apartment for some clothes and necessities hastily shoved in a threadbare duffel bag, and a stop at the gas station to fill up the tank of her 1972 yellow VW Bug, Emma was off on the 5-ish-hour drive up the coast. It wasn’t quite tourist season yet, but the snow had melted, so she opted for the slower route that kept her closer to the ocean, enjoying the panoramic views of the Atlantic as she drove.

The sign by the side of the road informing drivers that they were “Now Entering Storybrooke” eventually greeted her warmly as it had so many times before, crisp white on kelly green.

Before heading into town, she detoured down a dirt road to Cruella’s place. The Feinberg mansion was certainly more ostentatious than any other house on the road, towering over the smaller coastal cottages, but wasn’t the ridiculous display of wealth Emma had expected—it was more like an oversized bungalow made of light-colored brick.

Dogs started barking as soon as she rang the doorbell, and a shrill voice called at them to “shut it!” before the door swung open. Cruella looked much the same as she did in Emma’s memory, just with a bit more Botox: dramatic two-toned hair, a zealous amount of dark eyeshadow, and clothes just a touch too revealing.

“Oh, Emma darling, thank you so much for coming! I was thrilled when Regina told me you’d taken the case; none of those city types would ever believe me!” Cruella shouted, pulling Emma into a tight hug despite the fact that they’d hardly ever exchanged more than a few words (and that Emma had totally TP’d her house once with Ruby, but they had never been caught).

“Glad to...help…” Emma stammered, stunned at the contact. She had to take a deep breath once Cruella released her, before continuing, “So, can you tell me anything about what you’ve been seeing?”

“Oh, yes, yes—right this way!” The eccentric older woman turned on a dime and led Emma through her house, past the large painting of her now-dead husband (whose death had only been mildly suspicious), through the kitchen, and out to the massive deck that overlooked a semi-secluded cove.

“I see it almost every night when I’m having a nightcap, but only at night, so I think it’s nocturnal,” Cruella started explaining, gesturing dramatically toward the water. “It seems to be dark-colored, but it’s so hard to tell when there’s only a bit of moonlight.”

Emma wondered how strong those nightcaps were mixed, but continued on with a few more questions: how big was it (“Hmm, bigger than a dolphin, but smaller than a whale—but it has a tail like both of them.”), how long had she been seeing it (“A few months, give or take”), and why she’d hired them to investigate (“Well, I need to know what it is so I can be a hospitable host should it ever come ashore! I’m sure my friends would love to meet it!”).

None of it did anything to convince Emma that Cruella wasn’t still a few olives short of a martini, but she assured the widow that she’d get right on it.

“Let me know if I can help at all, and my property is certainly available to your use. I’m always open to some evening company,” Cruella added as Emma headed out.

“I think I’ll be okay, but thanks,” she answered, kind of quickly. “I’ll be in touch.”

She endured one more too-tight hug before hopping back in her car and starting the drive into town. Something told her it was all just the gin-fueled hallucination of a lonely old lady, but Regina was right—this case would probably work out perfectly for her, whether she found anything or not. She already spent most of her nights on the water; might was well get paid for it.

She’d get back to that later, though; now, it was time to see if the town rumor mill still worked like it used to—or at least to see how many people Snow had told of her arrival. Her old bedroom was already waiting for her, based on the last text she received, but it pretty much always was.

First things first, though: food. She easily navigated the all-too-familiar backroads and side streets that led to the center of town, one of the tiniest and most stereotypical little seaside villages known to man. Finding the diner was second nature, and her Bug looked right at home parked in front of it, almost like she’d never left. She actually recognized most of the cars nearby, but especially the two she’d parked in between; she smirked at knowing what—or rather, who—was likely waiting for her inside.

The same old bell rang against the door as she pulled it open, but was quickly drowned out by a high-pitched yelp—the only warning Emma had before being engulfed in another massive hug, but she was expecting this one. Still, she hadn’t quite braced herself enough.

“Ah, Emma! It’s really you; you’re HERE!” her best friend, Ruby Lucas, was shouting in her ear while proceeding to squeeze the life out of her.

“Let her breathe, Ruby!” a gruff voice barked from behind the counter. Despite the asphyxiation, Emma smiled at how little things ever changed.

“Sorry, sorry!” Ruby apologized as she let go; she always forgot her own strength, and now that Emma was free, she could see Granny behind them, hands on her hips and shaking her head at her granddaughter’s energy. “You know how I get around the full moon,” Ruby added quietly.

“It’s fine,” Emma assured her, even though her voice was slightly strained. Despite her friend’s lithe form, few would guess that both she and her grandmother were members of the local pack of apex predators: werewolves.

(To say Emma had grown up around the supernatural was an understatement. Maybe that was why the two of them got on so well, even if they probably shouldn’t have.)

“But once that’s past, we HAVE to have a girls’ night, okay?” she continued, gushing and taking Emma’s hands in hers. “Oh, I’m just so glad you’re here!”

“Ruby, I’m not paying ya to block the door from the paying customers!” Granny shouted before Emma could reply.

“Granny, we both know you won’t let me pay,” Emma threw back, teasing.

“Well, maybe this is the day I do!” The old lady was known for her fierce temper and penchant for orneriness; but just like any she-wolf, she was also fiercely protective of those in her pack, both the ones who actually were and the ones she’d decided were.

Emma and Ruby both just rolled their eyes, still holding hands in the entryway, when she heard the clearing of a familiar voice.

“Ruby, are you trying to hog my sister?” David, ever the big brother, was standing there with his arms crossed, trying to give a stern look that they all knew was forced.

“Yup,” Ruby threw back without missing a beat. “I’m taking her home and locking her in my house, so she’ll be all mine!”

“That’s creepy, Rubes,” Emma protested, but David spoke over her.

“Oh? And what would your new girlfriend say about that?”

Emma’s jaw dropped and Ruby looked ironically sheepish. “Ruby! You didn’t tell me!” Emma scolded, lightly shoving her friend’s shoulder.

“I was getting there…” she answered. “It’s not the sort of thing you say over text!”

Emma was going to challenge that, but Granny cut them all off. “Ruby! Let that poor girl sit down and make her some food!”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said quickly, then dashed to the kitchen in her impractical red high heels.

“Aha, my plan worked; I have you all to myself!” David proclaimed, tugging Emma into a headlock.

“Seriously?” Emma complained, though it was muffled by her brother’s ridiculously muscled arm, covered as always in plaid flannel (today, it was blue; she was pretty sure he owned the full spectrum). “Aren’t we too old for this?”

“Never!” he answered, and started tugging her farther into the diner. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“You’re gonna have to let go of me, you know.”

“Nah.”

She could at least tell that they were near the end of the counter, where she and David almost always sat. She still couldn’t see a damn thing and the way David was pulling her was starting to put a strain in her side, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Emma, meet Killian; he’s new in town. Killian, this is my sister, Emma.”

Blindly, Emma held out her hand, hoping the yet-to-be-seen stranger would take it. “Nice to meet you!” she called out from the confines of her brother’s grip.

Moments later, warm, rough fingers lightly gripped hers, followed by the sound of a sinfully accented voice. “The pleasure is all mine, milady.” And then she felt soft lips on the back of her hand.

Holy crap, who was this guy? Did David tear him out of a Jane Austen novel or something? Granted, that wasn’t a power she was aware of anyone wielding, let alone her brother, but damn.

(Another question would be, “why do you even care about a guy you haven’t even seen?”, but Emma was really too stunned by their thus-far incredibly brief interaction to give that much thought.)

Enough was enough; she couldn’t breathe and David’s shirt smelled like the vet office he worked in. And she was also kind of super curious to see what this guy looked like.

Thankfully, David didn’t put up a fight when she pulled his arms off of her, and only whined a little bit when she smacked him in the chest. Then she turned to this Killian guy, and it was like time stood still.

Killian was easily the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. High cheekbones and long, thick lashes framed the bluest eyes she'd encountered, and gingery scruff canvassed a jaw chiseled from stone; a dark thatch of chest hair teased from the unbuttoned vee of a shirt just tight enough that little was hidden of his built upper body; and tousled dark hair hung artfully in his face while his perfect full lips smirked at her, cutting a dimple into his cheek.  

The only thing she could think was that there was no way someone so attractive was human. (But she found herself eagerly hoping he was.)

“Emma; earth to Emma.” Suddenly, a hand was being waved in front of her face, pulling her out of her gaping—oh, crap, she was actually, full-on open-mouthed gaping at Killian. David was chuckling as she slammed her mouth shut, and she could feel heat rising on her cheeks, making them as bright red as the streaks in Ruby’s hair.

“I think she likes you,” David whisper-yelled to Killian as he took a seat next to him on the last stool.

“I tend to have that effect on people,” Killian answered in the same manner, throwing a poor excuse for a wink her way (but it still made her blush even harder).

Wait—what the hell was going on? She never got her feathers ruffled by a pretty face like this, and David never encouraged it. Regardless of her reaction, this was a setup if she ever saw one, and she wasn’t going to take the bait.

Trying to look cool (and probably failing but whatever), she brushed her hair behind her ears, smoothed her red leather jacket, and slid onto the empty stool next to Killian’s. “So, how the hell did you end up in Storybrooke? There really isn’t much here.”

“Well, there was a job,” he started, with a shrug and a chuckle—a deep, light thing that vibrated through her; she shivered involuntarily. “England didn’t have anything for me anymore and...this seemed like the place to start anew.” His smile didn’t fade, but his eyes softened a bit; she could tell that there was more to it than that, but she was the last person (or whatever she was) on earth to pry. So she kept it light.

“Really? You came here to start over? The US has so many problems right now.”

“So does the UK. Brexit and all.”

“Trump, though.”

“True. You might have that one.”

She was about to ask about his job (and was a little surprised at how quickly they fell into banter) when Ruby was in front of her, with her usual order and a wolfish grin.

“Don’t mind me; just dropping this off and I’ll get out of your feathers.” She cast a glance over at Killian, licked her lips at Emma, and then slunk away nearly as quickly as she’d shown up.

Emma just shook her head; seriously? Five minutes in town and everyone was already shipping her and the new guy? It was almost painful, but then again, that was Storybrooke.

Actually, something was kind of painful—her side. After her first (delicious) bite of grilled cheese, she set it down to stretch out, holding her arm over her head as she did.

“Are you taking up ballet now?” David teased. “Trying to learn some grace, finally?” Sometimes, he was such a big brother.

“Ha ha. No. We both know that's not possible,” Emma scoffed back. It really was ironic how clumsy she was, all things considered, but she didn’t think that had anything to do with this. “I think you pulled one of my muscles when you decided to drag me halfway across the diner. Thanks,” she deadpanned, then turned to Killian. “Sorry that you’re caught in the middle of this.”

He waved it off. “I had a brother; I know what it’s like.”

She didn’t linger on the fact that he used past tense, but still asked, “Was he as much of a ridiculous jerk as this guy?”

“Probably worse.”

The three of them fell into a combination of teasing and actual conversation over their meals. They discussed the differences between where he’d lived on the English coast and life here on the other side of the Atlantic. He explained that the proximity to the ocean was part of what drew him to their quiet little seaside town. For a moment, the mention of the sea sent up some Neal-related red flags, but then the conversation drifted into books and she forgot about it. That was his job—he’d taken the assistant librarian position in town, and was training to run things while the head librarian, Belle, went on a sabbatical to travel. And she catalogued the impressed, almost aroused way he arched an eyebrow when he found out she was a bounty hunter.

“You certainly strike me as a tough lass,” he observed, smirking wryly. “Remind me not to cross you.”

“Don’t skip your bail and we’ll be fine,” she teased back. “I’d hate to have to press that pretty face against the wall as I’m cuffing you.” She immediately blushed; she only ever flirted like that when she actually was trying to nab a skip—it had been years since she meant it.

He grinned, a devilish thing. “If you want to get close to me, you only have to ask. No need to use a hypothetical crime as an excuse.”

“Guys, I’m right here,” David protested, but his immediate smirk in Ruby’s direction told her that he really didn’t mind that much. (And honestly, it was kind of payback for all the sickeningly sweet scenes she’d been forced to witness between him and Snow over the years.)

Despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t hold back the smile that took over her features. She attempted to hide it in her last onion ring, but caught Ruby grinning at her from the kitchen. So she hid behind a napkin instead, clearing her face of any potential crumbs and—wait, why did she care? It wasn’t like she was looking to date him or anything….right?

Oh, but it was so fun flirting with him.

He’d returned his focus to the few remaining fries on his plate (“chips,” he called them), and she noticed his brow furrow as he rubbed at his chest.

“Oh, I should have warned you; Granny’s will give you heartburn if you’re not careful.”

“I heard that!” Granny shouted from the far back of the kitchen; of course she did, wolf hearing and all.

He chuckled. “I’ll remember that next time.” The weight of “next time” hung over them as they shared somewhat coy half-smiles; normally, she’d refute anything further, but something told her she couldn’t avoid Killian if she tried.

Just when she’d worked up the nerve to give Killian her number—even though something told her David had already put it in his phone—said older, annoying brother broke the moment. “Killian, don’t you have to get back to work?”

His eyes grew wide and flashed to the clock on the wall. “Oh, bloody hell, yeah,” he cursed, jumping up off the stool. He tugged some cash out of his back pocket (which Emma couldn’t help but watch; it turned out that he had an incredibly attractive back pocket), threw it on the counter, and grabbed a black leather jacket from where it had fallen on the floor.

“It truly was a pleasure, Emma,” he said as he slipped it on, giving her a genuine smile. “Until next time.”

“You too,” she replied, almost breathlessly, and then watched as he said “Later, mate,” to Dave and headed out the door. (She may have once again taken the opportunity to admire his back pockets, and everything they held.)

Once he was gone, she swiveled around on her stool to glare at David. “What the hell was that?” she demanded, but David answered by taking a massive bite of his tuna melt and studying the ceiling tiles.

She knew this game, though, and continued to stare at him while she munched on her onion rings. No way was he getting out of this conversation.

Dramatically, he swallowed and then feigned looking at his watch. “Oh, man, the time. That’s my lunch break; I better—”

“You better explain why you were simultaneously trying to set me up,” she commanded, putting her hand on his shoulder to keep him in place, and then added with a confused tilt of her head, “but also not?”

“You noticed that, huh?” he replied, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?”

“Think, no; hope—maybe?”

She just shook her head. “God, you sound just like—”

“Emma!” Speak of the devil, there she was; the shout of her name pulled her attention to the door, where David’s wife Snow had just arrived. Although, there was absolutely nothing satanic about Snow—in fact, she was quite the opposite: in addition to her pure-sounding name (her parents were definitely hippies), she practically exuded rainbows, unicorns, and all things angelic. (As far as Emma knew, she wasn’t actually an angel, but she wouldn’t be surprised to be proven wrong.)

Even the sun behind her made a halo in Snow’s pixie-cut hair as she practically ran across the diner. “Ah, I’m so glad you made it!” she basically shouted in Emma’s ear as she attacked her with a hug. “You’re supposed to text me these things, you know?”

“Yes, I know, Mom,” she answered, putting emphasis on the title; Snow might be her sister-in-law, but half the time, she acted more like a parent. But a parent you could get drunk with. “I was going to, but I went to Cruella’s first to find out about the job, and then got distracted here by a couple of fledgling matchmakers.”

Snow pulled back wearing a look of recognition, and turned to David. “Oh, was Killian here?”

“Ugh, I should have known you were in on it, too,” Emma grumbled, leaning back against the counter. “I expect this from you; but now you’re dragging David into it?”

“It was his idea!” Snow protested.

“Seriously?” Emma complained, and both ladies turned to him, but he was once again conveniently too interested in his meal to answer.

So Snow launched into an explanation. “A few weeks ago, he said, and I quote, ‘Don’t you think Emma and Killian would make a cute couple?’ I told him that neither of you would really appreciate being set up, but agreed that I could totally see it.  And several times since then, he’s said he can’t wait for your next visit so he can introduce you two and, again, I quote, ‘watch the sparks fly’.”

David choked down his sandwich to throw back at Snow, “Okay, but you’re the one who said they’d have pretty babies.”

Now Snow was the one acting embarrassed. “It was just a hypothetical!”

Ruby was surreptitiously taking away her empty plate, but Emma always had a sixth sense where she was concerned, probably because of Ruby’s predator status. “And what’s your excuse?” she enquired.

“I just think you need to get laid, and Killian is sex on legs, so you better effing tap that.” She didn’t even bat an eye, giving her confident response and then taking the dishes back to the kitchen.

“You guys, seriously,” Emma whined, physically facepalming. She knew they meant well and just wanted to see her happy with someone. But they also all knew why she wasn’t keen on that idea, given what had happened with Neal. At least no one had brought up the “S” word; soulmates were a big deal to Snow, since she and David were, but she’d long since stopped trying to sign Emma up for a soulmate-finder service.

(She’d never admit it, but sometimes, when she watched her brother and sister-in-law’s relationship and thought of their matching marks—his a snowflake, hers a shepherd’s crook—she did truly long for the kind of companionship and support that they gave each other.

But then Neal’s words—Who could love someone like you?—would trickle back in, and she’d quickly give up that line of thinking.)

Her complaints apparently didn’t stop Snow from whispering to Dave, “So, how did it go?”

“Answer that and die,” Emma interrupted, still holding her face in her hand.

She could almost hear Snow’s grin. “That’s all the answer I need, I think.” Emma just groaned and pushed herself off the counter to standing.

“Well, I’m gonna head out before you start wasting your time planning a wedding that will never happen.” Snow looked like she was about to protest, so Emma cut her off. “I’ve gotta do some reconnaissance for my job, but then I’ll be back at your place by dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” Snow conceded, sounding almost defeated. Emma hated doing that to her but her friend had an overactive imagination; it was always best to put a stop to things before her dreams regarding Emma’s love life got out of hand.

“Alright; see you later.”

Later that evening, Emma was curled up on the bed in her childhood room. David had inherited the house and the sheep farm that they grew up on after his mother (and Emma’s adoptive mother) passed away, so she always had a place when she came to Storybrooke. Despite what it may have seemed based on the warm reception earlier, she did actually make it home fairly regularly; this trip was just a bit out of her typical once-every-few-months schedule.

After figuring out where she’d best be able to do surveillance out by Cruella’s—in other words, where she could park near the water and not get noticed or caught in the tide—she’d headed back here for dinner and some Netflixing before they all went to bed. Emma wasn’t all that tired yet, though, so she was reading an old, worn out collection of fairy tales. Even if her life would never be one, she always enjoyed the stories and guessing at which ones were real. Though with this specific book—by Hans Christian Anderson—she’d never been able to decide.

The alarm on her phone went off at 10:50, startling her from her reading (and her musings on just how much of her life resembled The Ugly Duckling). The familiar tune of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake played out of the tiny iPhone speaker, letting her know, like it always did, that she had 10 minutes to figure things out. A quick glance at her weather app told her it was supposed to be a dry, if cool, night; but she’d be fine out there.

Quietly, she headed outside and down the well-worn path to the pond on the farm. Her phone read 10:55, so she walked a bit quicker to get there on time.

An ancient-looking but incredibly solid dock jutted out into the pond, and at the end, a less-old but still worn box was built in. Emma’s footsteps thudded as she hurried to it, and she flipped open the makeshift cabinet. As quickly as she could, she pulled off everything she wore (eternally grateful for the relative privacy of the farm) and threw it in, dropping her phone on top of the pile. 10:59.

She’d just closed the lid and stood up straight when she felt it: the familiar tingle that started in her spine and spread. In the near-full moon, the merman-shaped mark on her right side stood in stark contrast to her pale skin. Her hand pressed down on it; she never really paid it much thought nowadays, but it was odd that the muscle she’d strained earlier was directly beneath it.

The tingling feeling intensified, just like it did every night; by now, she had this whole thing down exactly.

Her lone graceful move was this: she raised her arms overhead as feathers covered her skin and flowed down from her limbs to make wings. Then, she took a running leap off the end of the dock, gliding on those wings for a brief moment as her neck lengthened, her legs shortened, her nose and mouth became a beak, and her whole body rearranged itself.

When it was done and that tingling feeling stopped, she smoothly landed on the surface of the water—as a swan.

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more, and let me know what you thought! Tagging some friends who might like it: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @selfie-wench @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @stubble-sandwich​ @fairytalesandtimetravel @word-bug @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @queen-mabs-revenge @flipperbrain @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @jackieorioncat

[grumpycakes]

I think one of my biggest frustrations with this place cracking down on any and all porn, including the drawn kind, is that my sole purpose in coming to this site was to replace y-gallery

. Y-gallery, little kidlets and anyone who blinked and missed this site, was a site that was EXCLUSIVELY for male/male art and or stories. This was like a safehaven for little 17-18 yr old mel, who was going to a catholic school in the peak of 2007-2009 homophobic times. I had found and deeply enjoyed FAKE (by sanami matoh) and a few other choice Yaois, I eventually found some gay fanfics. And severely enthralled by a world where both partners had agency and an understandable reason for liking another person (not just HOT GIRL THAT I DESERVE AND HAS NO CHARACTER CAUSE WHY WOULD WE WRITE ONE FOR HER?). I had like 3 gay stories I’d made up in the meanwhile and nowhere “safe” to put this content. Oh I knew artists that were open about it on deviantart but like, it was nc17 material back in 2005-2009.

So when I found out about y-gallery from an artist promoting their account, I thought I’d finally found a place to be safe. I desperately waited till I was 18 and could make an account without being banned, and then dumped all my drawings and ideas and first serious fanart into that place. It wasn’t the best and was a weird mess of sexual fantasies when I was somewhat mistakenly coming for the emotional fantasies. But it was a place to BE and enjoy things.

And then y-gallery hit a snag, as it was growing too fast and was free to use and relied on donations and ads. It was running out of money and honestly had no real programmer behind it and needed servers?!?! like shit man. So there was a lot of juggling and assurances and passing of authority. But the writing was on the walls. This place wasn’t going to last. And like any good hiding animals the artists began to scatter. So I looked to my favorite ones and watched where they went, attempting to follow.

It was all tumblr. (I mean sure there were twitters and some furaffinities, but mostly tumblr). Time and time again, they were all going to tumblr and were all promising to use their tumblr for the kind of art they’d post on y-gal.

So I set up an account. I was excited to have a place where I was allowed to post more than men (like legit in the rules, no pieces of women except like if they were in the background or it was a weird side post that I forget what it waws called but it wasn’t a true post, like there were WEIRD RULES FRIENDS, I READ THE FUCKING TOS LIKE I WAS GONNA BE TESTED. DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE STRANGE VIGNETTING CLAUSE) and there were communities for the movies and fandoms I was into

I slowly fell in love with this place, that liked my random thoughts (which no other platform had afforded me the peace of mind knowing no one needed me to be a certain way), that let me post literally any art of any two losers that decided to like each other, that let me yell about what I liked by reblogging it for everyone to see. So in 2010 I found the closest thing to an internet home I’d ever fucking had (apart from tegakiE a drawing site where I made friends I still have today) that let me have fun, enjoy dumb things, and explore my fantasies as an artist

this was the place where I could post EVERYTHING, this was the replacement for my ““dirty”“ art. Art which consisted of people being loved and having fulfilling relationships that sometimes include sex.

and I know that only the ACT OF SEX specifically is under attack right now (though also lady nipples for REASONS) but attacking that feels like taking out the foundation of the safe little house I built.

tumblr was a place where sex wasnt ‘‘DIRTY” DO YOU UNDERSTAND AS A CATHOLIC RAISED KID, HOW HARD AND LONG I HAD TO FIGHT TO NOT FEEL LIKE A DEVIANT FOR HAVING THE HUMAN DESIRE AND COMPULSION FOR WANTING SEX???? DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD I HAD TO FIGHT THROUGH YEARS OF SOCIALIZED BULLSHIT TO NOT FEEL BAD FOR LIKING SEXUAL CONTENT??? This glorious trashfire of a site helped me realize sex isn’t bad. It can be a wonderful, beautiful part of a healthy life and or relationship.

Deleting/hiding/flagging our content as inappropriate makes me feel like I’m being reprimanded for desiring and creating a loving sexual relationship again. It makes the four years of ingrained habit come back to lie to all but three of my highschool friends about the stories I would write and which characters were “girls” not boys.

And not this place was never perfect, but it was the closest to trust I’d ever had with an online site. And now I feel like I need to be worried. I feel like I need to hide again. I feel like I’m bad for what I like and want.

And I have no where else to go

no where else I want to go

I made my home here. I made friends here. I am fluent in how to post here. I feel like people appreciate me being ALIVE IN GENERAL on here.

and suddenly it’s not safe. A part of me is suddenly very not allowed.

And I have no where else to go

By policing this one thing, tumblr has raffirmed some backwards rules that I’d finally learned to ignore. And there’s so many more layers to this than just that but this is getting too long

and my point is that tumblr made a rule that defeated my entire purpose for making an account here

tumblr made itself just another platform that was unsafe and anxiety inducing

I came here to be able to make any content I wanted, and I now cannot

how does one proceed from this?

[mylordshesacactus]

The Cycle Of Abuse In Costume Design

This feels weird, not gonna lie; @alexkablob is usually the one writing up RWBY meta! But since it’s not fair to expect her to write up ALL of our skype discussions, here I am, trying to put together a coherent image essay for y’all.

The repeating of abusive patterns down generations--and the breaking of those patterns--is a major theme in RWBY. We see it in the Schnees (Weiss breaks free of the cycle of her father’s abuse by finding a group of supportive friends who model healthy relationships, help her process what she’s been through, and provide a safe environment for her to flourish and a safe place to escape to when she’s ready to leave; Winter leaves her abusive father but does not have the support system and emotional safety that Weiss does and ends up unconsciously replicating abusive patterns; Whitley intentionally patterns off his abuser in order to become the favorite and no longer a target; Willow turns to alcohol and withdraws from the world.) 

We see it in Blake who, like Weiss, leaves her abuser but doesn’t fully begin healing and moving on with her life until she has time and space to process her experiences with a support group. We see it to a degree in Yang, who was never abused but who very much has emotional scars from Raven’s abandonment that she is still struggling, with the help of friends, to heal from.

And we also see it, in a very interesting, organic, and heartbreaking way, in a three-generation form--patterns of emotional, psychological, and physical abuse that passes from Salem, to Cinder, and finally to Emerald. (I hope very much that Emerald is going to be the one to break that cycle, but as of the end of v5 that’s still up in the air.) And what’s fascinating here is the subtle way in which this is represented down to the design of their clothes.

LONG post under the cut:

All right. [cracks knuckles] Here we go.

Let’s start with Salem, who, as with many many things, started all this bullshit.

I don’t really need to say much about Salem’s #aesthetic, you all know what she’s like. We don’t know much about Cinder’s backstory; I imagine it’ll come up eventually, but with RWBY’s deliciously slow-burn approach to storytelling, that could be like three volumes from now. What we do know is that she was young when she was recruited by Salem, and that she was taken in with the promise of power.

We also have a damn good idea what life is like as one of Salem’s inner circle. When you do well, win victories as Cinder did at the end of s3, Salem is free with praise and indulgences. But when you make a mistake...

Salem’s people are afraid of her. Cinder is afraid of her. But they also, to a certain degree, respect or revere her. Tyrian is on the far end of this scale, of course; the others don’t worship her as a goddess or have that fawning, broken devotion--devotion you’ll notice does not move her to spare him cold disapproval when he fails in a mission. Watts...is hard to read but seems to treat her mostly as a patron; she gives him resources and directs his “research” and in return he does the projects she requests and speaks respectfully to her, as one does with the person who signs your paycheck. Hazel we don’t get much of a read on but he’s just in this to destroy Ozpin and seems fine with letting her direct that battle. Cinder...

Cinder was promised power, and Salem is very much Cinder’s concept of power. I talked about that a little in this post. When Cinder’s out in the field, that low, smooth voice she affects that’s like half an octave below and twice as husky as her actual voice? The confident queenlike posture, the deliberate movements, the ever-so-slightly indulgent tone that makes it clear that she’s giving you a gift with her magnanimity? She got that from somewhere. It is very, very deliberate.

However, the stylistic differences in their design are much more subtle, and it’s equal parts brilliant and horrifying here because I’m reasonably certain this is subconscious on Cinder’s part. Let’s start with the most obvious:

Hey there, Flashback Cinder. I’m going to draw your attention to some aspects of this design:

Dark nail polish

Diamond-shaped hole over the collarbone, formed by the X-shaped halter straps there

Delicate filigree embroidery down gloves that extend just past her elbows, drawing stark contrast with her bare shoulders

Also on the back of the dress, forming a sharp V in the cutout.

Those weird little half-glove things there’s probably a technical term for

The drop in the back of the dress, making it lower than in front

I think that’s enough to start with. Let’s see. This seems familiar. Where have I...

Oh. Right.

A diamond-shaped hole over the collarbone, formed by the material that forms the collar parting and then reconnecting to cover her throat. Edged in thin embroidery. Salem’s arms, of course, are bare until just past her elbows...drawing your attention to the thin, delicate dark veins standing out against them. And the subtle ornamentation of a ring with thin beadwork jewelry highlighting it. And her dark nails.

Not to forget, of course, the dramatic V design on the back of her flowing robes, extended in the back with a long cape.

Of course, that’s not the only outfit Cinder wears, so maybe it’s a fluke, I’m sure her other outfits don’t have--

Sharp, open, angular designs over the collarbone and thin, veinlike embroidery down the arms. Cinder apparently still doesn’t like having her throat bare, either. And while this isn’t a great image to show it, her dress has gotten longer as well.

And she still has that signature anklet of jagged black glass, which is so clearly modelled off Salem’s sharp obsidian bangles that no further exploration is required in my opinion.

Seriously, the more time goes on, Cinder’s personal style becomes more and more obviously an attempt to mirror Salem. This one is frankly more mature; she’s got Salem’s more muted colors, the loose sleeve, the high collar, the floor-length dress. It’s still got the Cinder touches, the glove, the slit skirt with that feathered jewel she’s so fond of, etc; but this look is more “femme fatale” and less “show some leg and distract the guards”. 

But she’s still got that glove aesthetic and the thin embroidery; also, unlike before where she generally wore small hoop earrings or modest dangles, she’s got the obsidian diamond look going on here. She’s cut her hair again as well, reverting back to the general look she had when she was a lot younger and less experienced. That’s not related to the rest, I just think it’s interesting.

And then there’s Emerald.

Emerald was taken in by Cinder...not entirely unlike the way Cinder was taken in by Salem. Em is young, angry, jaded, talented and clever enough to be interesting--and wants something desperately. When she was offered a place to belong, she was all in. Much like Salem, who says that Cinder is valuable to her while making it clear that without her, Cinder would be nothing, Cinder has made it very clear that her approval and protection are a gift to Emerald--that Emerald owes her everything.

Like with Cinder, Emerald’s character design reflects her emotional dependence and desire to be like her abuser. Unlike with Cinder, I...don’t think for a moment that it’s subconscious. Cinder, I think, is convinced that she’s totally independent and invaluable and is unaware of how strongly she bases her personal style on Salem’s influence. Emerald knows exactly what she’s doing, and desperately wants Cinder to notice.

As a baseline, this is Emerald before she met Cinder. Interestingly you’ll note she’s already got those weird Reverse Gloves or whatever they are. That’s interesting because they’re one of the clear visual parallels between her design and Cinder’s; from a Doylist perspective I’m pretty sure this was a mix of foreshadowing and also limited ability to make new character models. It’s an obvious similarity, so I’m saying it’s relevant.

And this is current-day Emerald. You can’t see it in that picture, but, to start us out on the ways her costume changed after meeting Cinder

She’s wearing heels now.

There is no reason Emerald Sustrai would logically want to wear heels. She’s a fight-and-kill badass who made her living before this as a sneak thief; those are not small heels, she would not be accustomed to wearing heels at all, and they’d get in the way of doing her job. Logically, she’d stick with the sensible flats she was used to.

But, well. Cinder wears heels, doesn’t she.

Interestingly, look at the bangles on her left hand. That’s actually another visual parallel, but it’s not to Cinder, at least not directly. That’s a direct callback to Salem, who’s got the same thing going on her other wrist and whose aesthetic is a degree removed from anywhere Emerald should be calling from. But Salem is part of this cycle, and her influence is visible in Emerald here.

And who else do we know who wears her personal sigil in stylized black between her shoulderblades?

There’s also that armband she’s picked up, which she didn’t have before they went undercover at Beacon. But it’s probably just a bit of asymmetrical character model flavor, nothing relevant or--

Ah.

Interestingly, Cinder’s undercover getup is actually highly reminiscent of Emerald. Olive drab pants, the utility pouches on her belt, the bare midriff and linen strips in lieu of a shirt. Was that intentional, a bone being thrown to Emerald to make her feel noticed? Did Cinder put Emerald in charge of coming up with a disguise for her? Or was Emerald just Cinder’s subconscious image of what she was aiming for--forgettable, unimportant, just another street brawler gone legit?

(And of course, let’s not ignore that even here, Cinder’s outfit features a high collar that creates the illusion of a plunging neckline, framing a triangle over her collarbone.)

Of course, that’s not the most obvious change. The most obvious change is that Emerald’s gone from a very sensible halter-top sports bra to

Well, this. Aside commentary on the likelihood of Cinder being impressed by the boob window aside, that X collar seems familiar...

A LOT of attention and care has gone into the character designs on this show. This is just one example of the way character design alone can help tell a story.

[prettyfunkyunorganized]

An Unexpected Path

I FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST!!! I’m so glad. I missed yous guys.

This is a pretty self-indulgent piece, a reader insert that is also a legit self-insert, but it made me happy so here we are. Hopefully the random little specifics in there won't be too much of a nuisance for you all. 

The whole thing is based on @monstermatchmaker ‘s post for me, found here.I LOVE MY SATYR SO EFFING MUCH, THANK YOU AGAIN! 

No smut, just a meeting and some sweetness. I hope I can keep writing about his darling guy, I adore him so much and hope some of you will too! Kinda long as usual - 4k words. 

It had been a grueling week filled with enough bullshit to drive you to the breaking point. Now that it was over, all you wanted to do was hide on your couch and drown out the world with some sort of silly distraction – Netflix and a pile of blankets probably. But no. That could wait. Everything you had looked up over the past few days about improving your mood or getting away from negative thoughts said ‘get outside and get moving.’ And so you were. You had promised yourself you would go for a walk after work and goddamit you were keeping that promise, tiredness be damned.

With a deep sigh you rubbed your face and began to wander absently down the street, toward the tree line not far from your housing complex. Living on the far side of town may not be exactly convenient, but you did have a nice view, now that you were taking the time to notice it. Maybe you should do things like things more often.

As you wandered down the sidewalk, toying with the drawstrings of your hoodie, your eyes began flitting from tree to tree, admiring the shapes and slopes of the branches. You had almost tripped twice already, but you just couldn’t stop staring at the forest to the right of you. It wasn’t until an old lady snapped at you that you pulled your eyes away.

“Watch where you are going, you little brat,” a woman with a fierce scowl snapped at you. She couldn’t have been more than 5 feet tall, but she still scared the shit out of you.

“S-sorry,” you stammered, giving your best apologetic smile.

“Ugh,” she huffed as she began to walk away, “millennials!”

The older woman’s comment made you purse your lips. “Baby boomers,” you grumbled sarcastically. You turned on your heel and looked back to the trees, deciding that maybe just standing still and staring at nature for a few would be safest, but something new caught your eye. A path, one that you hadn’t seen before. You squinted and raised an eyebrow. “Huh.”

There wasn’t much of a path, but there was definitely a patch of bare dirt that led right in-between two thick trees. “Well,” you whispered to yourself, “I’ve got some time, and it’s still light, maybe a little risk would be a good thing. Something to break me out of my safe little box. Or I could get lost and die.” You rocked back and forth on your feet, fretting and cursing at your indecision. Maybe if you just went in to see how far the path went? But not go far enough that you couldn’t see the road anymore? Maybe that would still be safe?

“I’m a pansy, and I need to branch out, and do something that scares me,” you said to yourself firmly. “It’s almost literally a walk in the park.” You chuckled and smiled at the dumb joke that popped into your head. “Gotta walk on the wild side.”

Despite the fact that no one was there to hear your silly pun, you still flushed bright red and bit your puffy lower lip before stepping onto the path.

The breeze wasn’t quite as strong here, but it had a tinge of sweetness to it – a far-off note of something that smelled fresh and flowery. Or maybe fruity? The scent was enough to give you the courage to press on, convincing you to keep going and keep looking forward. You weren’t noticing how quickly the sun setting or the way the little dirt road dissipated back into a grassy field. All you could focus on was the pleasant fuzzy feeling that kept washing over you and the beauty of the blossoming vines around you.

But then the sunlight disappeared. Suddenly. Seemingly without warning. Everything was suddenly dark and cold and confusing. The path was nowhere to be seen, much less the road back home. All of the trees looked the same. You couldn’t tell which direction you had come from. The flowers were gone, oppressive twigs in their place, poking and prodding you.

You’d fucked up. You were lost. No one would know where to look for you. You were completely, utterly lost.

And terrified.

You were completely, utterly terrified.

Every inch of you was trying to remember how to breathe, arms wrapped around your torso as you slumped into a tree and slumped into the ground. Sobs shook you so violently your throat hurt, but at least maybe someone would hear you that way. You couldn’t think straight, no matter how hard you tried, so you stayed where you were, crying and shaking, hoping someone would find you.

By the time you looked up again, it was even darker. Not pitch black, but close, making the fear in you rise up even more. You took a few trembling breaths and blinked the bleariness from your teary eyes. Your glasses were a mess, but your fingers were so cold that cleaning them was proving overly difficult. They were still smeared and mucky when you put them back on, but now you could see a light. A flicker, more accurately. Then it flared up again. And again. Then there was a big burst, and a string of lights came into view, almost like street lamps.

A part of you was still feeling sarcastic – somehow – and thought, ‘Oh great. Now I’ve found a crazy evil forest ritual or something. Wonderful,’ but you pushed that aside. “Fire like that means people, people means help. I – I have to try.” Your voice was feeble, high-pitched, and fumbled at every other word, but the sound made you feel a little better. You stumbled toward the lights, shivering and sniffling. Soon you could hear soft voices and the occasional laughter which eased a bit of the tension in your shoulders. You weren’t alone anymore, at the very least. As you neared a break in the trees, you took a moment to scope out what you were walking into.

There were a handful of people mingling in the middle of a fire lit circle, maybe 30 or so. They all seemed to be in good humors, most lounging around on lawn chairs or grabbing a plate of food from a long line up. By all accounts, it looked like you had just stumbled upon a late-night potluck. And everything smelled amazing.

Definitely not a demonic ritual. So what if they all had horns? Lots of chill species had horns. No big deal. And kids didn’t go to evil rituals, right? There were a bunch of kiddos running about. Surely these pople would help you.

Right?

“H-hello,” you called out in a raspy voice once you reached the edge of the clearing. One or two of the heads in front of you looked around as if confused. You took another step forward and cleared your throat before trying again. “Hello?”

“Did I just hear a – oh shit!” A tall man swiveled around and saw you shaking by the trees. He jumped up onto his . . . feet? You couldn’t see him very well through your dirty glasses and the dark, but he definitely didn’t have human legs.  

The man came darting over to you, drawing the attention of many of the other people around him, sparking whispers and confused murmurs. A wave of awkwardness washed over you, but not nearly as much when the six-foot man in front of you hunkered down and grabbed your shoulders.

“Are you okay?! How did you get here? Are you alone? Holy crow, you’re freezing! How long have you been outside like this? Come here, come here! Come warm up.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the crowd. You wanted to curl in on yourself. It was one thing to have a bunch of strangers giving you judgmental stares, but having this guy hold you and steer you had every muscle in your body tense. You’d always had a problem with people touching you, especially men, but you kept your mouth shut. He was trying to be nice. And you had dealt with this irrational, unintentional, uncontrollable fear all your life. He’d let go soon. You’d be fine. Your hand might tingle for a day or two, but you’d be fine. Eventually.

“Here,” the man said mercifully letting go of you to gesturing to the chair he’d been sitting in, “set yourself down here, and I’ll find you a blanket or something.” He scuttled off into the sea of unfamiliar faces, leaving you to squirm uncomfortably under their gazes. One woman in particular was giving you a very foul look, pulling a few children away from you.

Now that you were in the light, you realized that all the people around you not only had horns, but long, curved, hairy legs, too. What was the word, what was the word . . .? Something with a ‘s,’ right?

“Excuse me,” the only guy who didn’t seem to be wary of you said, weaving his way back to you. He rushed back to your side and hastily threw a blanket over you, leaving you to clumsily trying to find your way out of the darkness again.

“Thanks,” you said softly once you had positioned the giant comforter on your shoulders and not on top of your head.

“Of course. Feeling better,” he asked, smiling brightly at you. His mildly goofy smirk was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit, too.

“Yes, thank you,” you said with a sigh.

“How did you find – ” he started, but then an overly loud throat clearing noise but him off. The crowd parted, and an imposing man with a grave face came toward you. You shriveled into the chair. He was older than the other male, and much less happy to see you.

“Why are you here,” he demanded, voice tight and irritated.

“I – I was just taking a walk, and then I got lost,” you explained.

His brow pinched. “Where?”

“Um, along the road, down by 11th and Spring Junction, but – ”

He scoffed, “You did not get here by following any city street.”

“Right,” you fumbled under his imposing stare, “I meant to say that I was going down the road then I saw a path and started to follow it. I don’t really know what happened, but my mind got really fuzzy and I just kept going. Almost like I was following something.”

“Damn it,” he barked angrily, turning to the onlookers behind him, “someone left one of our passages from the main road open! Who here used the portal by 11th and Spring today?”

No one spoke at first, but there was plenty of whispering, and a group in the back made the classic ‘ouuuUUUU’ noise you might hear on The Jerry Springer Show.

“Um, Remus,” the other man by your side said tentatively, “that’s the one the kids from Spruce Elementary come in from usually. It was probably just one of the little guys.”

“’Little’ or not, the passages must always be covered. It is of the utmost importance,” their leader said in a low tone. “Next weekend all of our satyr children, k through 12, will attend another lesson on the importance of keeping our gatherings hidden.”

A collective groan came from all the small children and a few adults, too. Sounded like nobody liked this Remus’s lectures.

“Satyrs,” you whispered as you remembered the name of the beings around you. You had always been bad at names.

It seemed the younger man had heard you and chuckled. “We’re not all as stuck up as this one,” he murmured, jerking his head at Remus. You bit your lip and tried not to laugh.

“As for you,” the scowling older satyr said, turning back to you, “I suppose I cannot fault you for stumbling upon us. It sounds as if you may have been influenced by one our . . . well, never mind. We would appreciate it if you wouldn’t discuss what you have seen with anyone else. This is a satyr community affair, and we would like to keep it that way. Do not try to find us again.”

“Of course,” you said nodding, “I promise I won’t go wandering down random, unmarked paths again anytime soon. Or ever, probably. Been a hell of a night . . .”

He slumped a bit and rubbed the bridge of his powerful nose. “And I will ensure none of our paths stay open again.”

“I’m sorry if I interrupted,” you blurted out as Remus began to turn away. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, and I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Hm,” he grunted looking you over doubtfully, but eventually his face relaxed just a touch, and he gave you one curt nod. “I am glad to hear it. Felix?”

The younger man jumped and looked up, “Yeah?”

“You seem unfazed by this girl, will you take her home?”

“Yeah!” His excitement was apparent and made you blush, but he quickly tried to stifle his emotions after getting a disapproving look from Remus. “I mean, uh,” he stammered, “yeah. I can do that. No biggie.”

Remus only shook his head and walked away.

“Well,” you said slowly, “that was . . . something.”

Felix snorted, “Yup. He’s a lot. Always has been, always will be. But he’s a good boss man – keeps us safe and helps us all find jobs and houses and what not. Good guy, just also sorta . . .”

“Frightening,” you offered.

“Holy shit yes,” Felix laughed, getting up from his crouched spot beside you. “Come on, let’s get you in a car with a heater, you’re still shivering.”

“That sounds awesome,” you huffed, burying your face in the big blanket.

The two of you maneuvered around the edge of the potluck, trying to make a beeline away from everyone else, but one woman came rushing toward you with no signs of stopping.

“Felix,” she chirped.

“Not now,” he moaned, trying to usher you away a little faster.

“Felix! FELIX!”

He cringed and slowed down, placing himself between you and the other woman. “Hey Mom,” he said with a strained smile.

“What is going on here,” the middle-aged woman squeaked, eyes wide with concern.

“I’m taking her home,” Felix said simply.

“Why you,” she gaped.

“Remus asked me to so you can’t say no,” he responded quickly, exactly the way you sputter excuses to your mom when you’re about to get in trouble.

“I – but – oh fine,” she sighed, looking at you as if you might infect her with something, “just be careful.”

“Careful,” he laughed, a warm and boisterous noise, “of this cute little human?”

“CUTE,” his mother practically bellowed.

Felix tensed. Visibly. “I – I didn’t say cute. I said little.”

“You said cute AND little!”

“Look, I, um, uh – I should get her home. Later Mom! See ya at home!”

Felix grabbed your arm and hauled you toward a row of cars so fast you were could hardly keep up. The guy had to be about a foot taller than you, and his legs were absolutely longer, but soon you were tucked away in an old blue car.

“Sorry about them,” Felix said, his head on the steering wheel, making an exasperated noise.

You giggled, “Don’t be, that’s just how family is.”

“So your family’s like that, too,” he asked, turning to you.

“Well, I get the impression my family might be a good bit smaller than yours, but they’re still plenty overwhelming when they want to be. Especially my aunt and her fam.”

He let out a long groan, then snorted. “Don’t even get me started on aunts!” Felix put the car in reverse and double checked that the heat was cranked on high, then headed down the dirt road away from the clearing toward town. A quietness fell over the two of you that you usually would have thought uncomfortable, but you were too busy stealing glances to notice.

Yet again you were in the dark, mostly, but you could still make out the incredible horns on Felix’s head. They were massive, the ridges touching the sides of the car. Their curve was beautiful, a flared spiral ending a gently rounded tip. The moment before the car’s light went out you noticed just how dark they were – like charcoal with that slightly shimmering veneer.

There was once or twice when Felix seemed to dip off to the other side of the road or swerve a tad, making you glace over a little worriedly. You could have sworn his eyes were pointed in your direction, but there was no way. Right? Maybe he was just marveling at how disheveled you looked. You could feel tangled hair brushing the back of your neck. Ick. Although, he did keep schrooching down every time you looked at him so . . . maybe he was –

No way. He could get any girl, why settle for you?

“So, uh, where am I heading,” Felix asked, turning onto the city street.

“I’m on the far end of 9th,” you said taking off your glasses to try and clean them again.

“On the way to Spencer’s Auto?”

“Yeah.”

Felix laughed. “No kidding? Ha! You’re like two blocks away from all us satyrs! Most of us are in the old Victorian houses or in the nearby apartment complex.”

“Really,” you frowned. “I’ve never seen any of you around.”

“Yeah, we keep to ourselves. Too much, if you ask me,” he shrugged.

“Well, I’m kind of a homebody, too, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t see much of anybody,” you admitted.

“That’s a shame,” he said glancing at you.

You sighed, “Yeah, everyone tells me I need to get out more.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “I just meant it’s a bummer that I’ve never seen you before. You seem really – ” Felix stopped himself and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay,” you laughed, your face flushing, “you were going to say something nice, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said hesitantly.

“Then you don’t have to apologize for being nice,” you assured him.

He chuckled and gave you a small glance. “Right. I just, well, I didn’t want to come on too strong or anything. I’ve been told I do that.”

You shrugged. “I think you’ve been just fine.”

It was a short drive now, only a few minutes to your house, but it gave you just enough time to peek at Felix and see his features in the street lamps. His skin was a soft brown with dark brunette locks tied back in a low ponytail. His curls were looser than yours, but definitely still wrapped into little coils. There was scruffle all along his shapely jawline, somewhat thicker at the sideburns. He had glasses, too, which, for some reason made you happy to see. You couldn’t see his eyes well, but they seemed dark and warm.

Guy was handsome. Really handsome. Handsome enough to make you feel super timid.

Thankfully, the two of you were parked outside of your little house only a moment or two later. You slipped the blanket off your body and folded it as best you could in the cab of the small car. Much to your surprise, by the time you were finished, Felix had come around to your side of the car to open your door for you.

Something your stepfather had once said popped into your mind: “If a boy never opens the car door for he’s no good. Find a polite one. You deserve a polite one.”

Felix was polite. And sweet. And funny. And tall. And just stupid cute.

Shit.

“Thank you,” you said, cheeks burning as you got out of the car and stood up. There wasn’t much space between you, little more than a foot between you.

“Of course,” he beamed. “Pops always said if you want to – ” He stopped himself again, bowing his head and scratching the back of his neck. “Oops.”

“’Oops’ what,” you asked, your head lolling to the side.

“I was just about to blurt out something dumb again,” he chuckled. “Always had a problem with that.”

“Felix,” you giggled, “the only reason we met is because I was dumb enough to wander into the forest willy-nilly just before sunset. You can say just about anything and it still won’t be as stupid as what I did.”

He looked right into your eyes, his smile bright and his irises a deep, deep brown. You noticed all Felix’s freckles, dozens all over his face, trickling down his neck. He made your breath hitch.

“That wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly, as if sharing a secret, “we were doing a spring ritual – one that’s supposed to help with new growth and all that. All the surging magic and sunlight and stuff would attract any human to the area. You couldn’t help yourself. No one could.”

“Wait,” you gawked, “really?! I got caught up in some spell?”

“Yup,” he laughed. “Sorry.”

“Well, at least I feel less idiotic now,” you said shaking your head with a smile. You looked back to Felix who was leaning on the car door, looking from the ground to you, the ground to you. “I bet whatever  your dad said to you wasn’t dumb either,” you hinted.

A flush came to Felix’s cheeks, but he relented nonetheless. “My dad always said iif you want to impress a pretty girl, open the car door for her. Everybody opens the door to the restaurant, but no one remembers the car door anymore. That’s the way to stand out, he says.”

You bit your lip and tucked your hair behind your ears, taking a moment to reel in the fact that he called you pretty. “Your dad sounds like a very smart guy,” you replied.

He laughed again, leaning a little closer to you, but not far enough that you felt the need to shy away. “So I don’t want to be too forward,” he said, “especially since we didn’t exactly meet under normal circumstances, but would you ever want to maybe, like, get a drink sometime?”

The smile that spread across your face was so wide your lips and cheeks stung. “Th-that sounds great,” you stammered, “but – ”

“Awesome,” he cheered, bouncing on the balls of his feet once excitedly. “When are you free? I know this really fun place down by the railroad and . . . ” His face fell dramatically. “And you said ‘but’ didn’t you?”

“Well yeah but I – ” you began.

“Nah, that’s okay,” Felix sighed. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. I’ll just head out then. Maybe I’ll still see you around or something? If that’s not – ”

“Wait a sec,” you blurted before he could get back to the driver’s seat, “I wasn’t going to say no!”

“You weren’t,” he asked, his body no longer drooping so sadly.

“No,” you giggled, “not at all! I was just going to say that I don’t drink, so if we could do something that isn’t at a bar that would be kinda nice.”

“Oh,” he said looking confused for a moment before reeling back and yelping, “OH! So you don’t drink booze then?” You nodded. Felix burst out laughing and shook his head. “I gotta stop jumping to conclusions like that.”

“It’s okay,” you said waving your hand casually, “don’t worry about it. You still want to do something sometime?”

“Absolutely,” Felix said earnestly. “Can I get your number?”

“Definitely,” you said, beaming as you typed your contact information into his phone. Felix glanced it over and grinned. “What is it you,” you asked worriedly.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, trying to regain his cool, “I just really like your name.”

You went bright red and found that you couldn’t get a single word out. You’d heard that before, but it sounded so incredibly genuine when he said it. You’d never felt this giddy.

“Night,” he said giving you one last smile before turning back to his car.

“Night,” you squeaked, a bit too late. Your heart was still fluttering wildly.

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer

[aion-rsa]

Batwoman Season 2 Finale Review: Ryan Claims Her Power

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This Batwoman article contains spoilers for the Season 2 finale.

Batwoman Season 2, Episode 18

Ryan pens a farewell letter to the city, just as Gotham needs her most. After Circe makes off with the Batsuit and an assortment of Batman villains’ contraband, Ryan says goodbye to the Bat, feeling momentarily defeated. But when Black Mask makes a stirring speech urging people to mask up and wil’ out, power goes off and the city erupts in chaos. The Bat team can’t sit idly by.

Roman Sionis wants the city to devour itself so he can swoop in and be its hero, a classic savior complex. He takes the venom that made Bane a hulking rage machine, and mixes it with Snakebite to turn Tavaroff into a… controllable rage monster? Whatever his intention, his plans don’t quite pan out. Mary takes the Snakebite from Tavaroff with plans to use it on Circe to unlock Kate’s memories.

Luke finds his childhood drawings of suits he imagined for a Black Batman, which leads him to the discovery of the suit his father made in that image. With Gotham in chaos, and Circe in possession of Batwoman’s suit, the timing could not be more perfect for Luke to suit up. When Mary is attacked by Raging Racist Tavaroff who is turnt off that venom and craving the Snakebite, Luke saves her from crashing after falling several stories.

Luke gets to lay hands on Tavaroff, give him that work, and finally enact some type of justice—nowhere equal to what is deserved, but still satisfying. Luke wearing a suit that was, for all intents and purposes, made for him is powerful. It is a stunning moment, a well-earned moment, and it feels like an appropriate evolution of the character. I am excited to see more of Batwing in the upcoming season.

Ryan and Alice team up again to go after Circe and Roman. Alice uses the entire time as an opportunity to remind Ryan that she left her at the mercy of False Face and while she’s absolutely dead wrong to bring Ryan’s bio mom into it, she does have a point about Ryan not being above reproach. When the one comes to fifth, Alice takes on Black Mask, eventually using Joker’s flower to shoot acid into his face. Alice trusts Ryan to go after Kate, even though Ryan is convinced she can’t win.

Ryan in the Batmobile chases Circe on the Bat bike, and they throw their assortment of vehicular weapons at each other before throwing hands. Ryan holds her own in hand-to-hand combat—a too-rare fun melee moment— even without her suit, and is reminded that she is That Bitch. She’s able to slow Circe down long enough for Alice to unleash aerosolized Snakebite, which sends both Alice and Kate over the bridge into the water.

Alice gets hit with the aerosol as well and is trapped in her last memory of Ocean, where she gets to say goodbye. Ocean tells her to hold onto this feeling, “now that you know you’re capable of feeling it, chase it again.” Kate visits the memory when she almost finds Beth in the basement, but she opens the door and they reunite… Alice pulls her from the water, and Ryan starts compressions while guiding Alice through mouth to mouth. Kate awakes and says “Beth,” acknowledging her sister, then Alice is arrested by GCPD who apparently thought that was more pressing than helping the girl who was clearly in need of medical aid—but I digress.

Again, I wish a little more time had been spent this season allowing other characters to get to know Alice the way we have. Alice is remorseful, in her way. And her actions have—on the whole—have helped the Bat Team, especially where Kate is involved. She deserves some grace. That said, when police finally arrest her and she’s put in Arkham, that feels fair. I don’t want her to be absolved of her sins, I want her to be treated with care. The moment she gets with Ocean in her Snakebite-induced fantasy is beautiful and it reminds us that she is human. I just want other characters to remember that.

This season has been just as much about Ryan becoming Batwoman as it has been about Ryan finding herself. Without the suit, she’s still Ryan Wilder, as Sophie reminds her. And it’s a lesson she takes with her into her parole hearing, where she tells the board, “I changed because I stopped seeing myself the way you see me and started seeing myself as I am. A woman who has found her power.”

Black Mask sent out masks for people to wear to cause mayhem, but people used them to project light—to create an adhoc Bat signal. The city was lit up by the people who refused to give up hope. And Ryan was reminded, “Gotham needs you and more importantly. Gotham loves you.”

Kate leaves Gotham after officially ending things with Sophie, seemingly closing the door on that romance for good. How much we’ll see of Kate going forward isn’t clear, but I imagine there’s a lot of her story left untold, especially in her relationship with Alice/Beth. Mary’s clinic is legit and the Bat Team are going to build their community center on top of it, fulfilling their promise to keep service at the center of their mission. 

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Ryan goes to see Alice in Arkham to gloat, and Alice reveals Ryan’s biological mom is still alive. She could be lying but it hurts more if it’s true and Alice is nothing if not committed to doing the absolute utmost. This  could really shake Ryan up. Among the things that Circe stole from the Batcave, that wind up floating in the river is a jar of vines, which are unleashed. If that’s anything to go by, season three is going for maximum chaos, and I for one am here for it.

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