#and I can't wait to see everyone's responses

[screamlet]

reunion cuddles? 👉👈 (also yay you're working on layla and bailey)

a happy one!!! my god!! in this economy!! (and layla and bailey are chugging along, can you believe difficult conversations are difficult to write? surprised the hell out of me) anyway: 850ish words of post s8 fix-it. inspired by @rcmclachlan's recurring tag "a three-minute conversation could fix them." this is like. idk. seven to eight minutes max.

---

As Buck and Tommy unpack their flea market and garage sale findings, Buck looks around his new apartment. He's been here a month and a half and it already looks so much like a home, a place where he wants to spend his time.

He knows in his gut that's because he can see so many pieces of Tommy here. The dark teal vase he said looked better than a navy one. A pair of framed sketches of backyard bugs, where Buck had found one and Tommy had dug around for its match, finally found it for him.

And there's the most obvious: Tommy standing in his kitchen gently cleaning a new vintage serving dish they'd found that Buck can't wait to cook in. Fuck, this is—it's what he wants.

Buck has been thinking and staring long enough that Tommy's finished drying off the dish. He catches Buck's eye and smiles. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, kinda." Buck moves into the kitchen and stands across from him on the other side of the island. "Can we talk about something?"

He can see the way Tommy's shoulders immediately tense. "Yeah, of course. You can tell me anything."

"I know, but as I want this to go both ways," Buck says. He waits until Tommy's done drying the dish and Tommy's done when he realizes Buck isn't talking until he is.

"So what's up?" He looks so terrified already that Buck wants to back off; he doesn't want to be responsible for putting that expression on his face. But the only way out is through, and Buck has to get this thing moving.

"I want to try again. Us. Being together. Dating." Buck doesn't look away. "Would you want that?"

Tommy looks at him like there's a catch and, honestly, he's right to do it. There's lots of catches, Buck's going to make sure of that. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

They say it in unison: "What's the catch?" Tommy rolls his eyes, smiling, and Buck can't help tilting his head to follow his smile.

"We have to talk to each other," Buck says slowly. "I want to know you, Tommy. All of you. I mean it."

He can tell that a dozen self-deprecating jokes want to punch their way out of Tommy's mouth, but he's holding them back. He's digging. They might actually do this. Buck really hopes so.

"I think," Tommy says, "that when you scratch past all this, you're gonna find a whole lot of nothing."

"Yeah, well. Let me decide, would you?" Buck tries his best not to look away. "Maybe what you call nothing means more to me than everyone else's something."

Tommy nods, still unconvinced. Buck asks, "What do you want? What do you need? I want you to stay with me. What can we do to make that happen?"

The silence stretches out and Buck lets it. He can do this—he can make space for Tommy. He's just relieved that Tommy's trying. He's trying to try. He's digging and that's all Buck wants. He wants more Tommy.

"I listen to you, Evan," Tommy says, "and I think you're used to letting your words roll off people's backs. I'm not like that. I hear you. I take you seriously, so you have to watch what you say. You have to think about what you're saying before you say them to me. And if you promise to do that, then I'll promise to stay. I just—" Tommy drums his fingers nervously on the counter. "If I show you my feelings, I don't want them to get hurt. So don't hurt me with things you don't mean."

Buck nods. "Okay. Okay, I can try to do that."

"Okay." He's going to drum the kitchen island to pieces at this point. "And you have to give me time. Like." Tommy laughs and motions to himself. "The excavation process here? It's a long one. A long one. So just. Let me." Tommy smiles. "Like you're doing now. Like this."

"Okay. I can do that." Buck smiles back. "I like hearing things about you. I can listen, Tommy. I want to hear you. So talk to me."

"And we have to talk," Tommy says. "I don't want to bury things because I think you'll leave. I don't want to leave because I think you want me to bury things."

Buck nods, then grins. "I'm getting a notepad. We should write this down."

Tommy laughs. "Really? You can't remember this?"

"Now? Yeah. When we need it, in the moment? Maybe not! So: terms and conditions."

The only paper Buck has is a 5×5" notepad with a crate of vegetables printed in the corner. Tommy shakes his head as Buck comes around with a pen. "Okay, so."

"Come here," Tommy interrupts. He hugs Buck, his hand resting at the nape of Buck's neck. "We're doing this?" he asks quietly.

Buck hugs him back tight, pen and paper in one hand as he sways in his arms. "Yeah, we are. As soon as we finalize our contract."

Tommy hugs him tighter. Buck sighs with relief, the newest piece of his new life finally in place, exactly where he wants him to be.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Locked Out Of Heaven 14

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father invites a work friend to the neighbourhood barbecue.

Characters: Nick Fowler (Dad’s friend trope)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, your hand on your other elbow as you take it all in. The beach house is gorgeous. Straight out of the movies. You can hear and smell the ocean and you're here with the most handsome man you've ever seen.

Nick's weight groans subtly in the floorboards. You turn gingerly to see him as he lingers in the doorway. Your thighs ache and your insides are all fuzzy. You can't stop thinking about what you did on the boat.

"This is your place?" You hold back a cringe at how dumb you sound.

"Oh? You think I'm a criminal or something?" He snickers.

You shake your head frantically. "No, I don't mean--"

"I know, baby," he purrs as he shows his palm and nears. He extends his hand to you. He pulls you against him. He smells like sweat and salt. "I'm teasing you. Figured I should get you back."

"What do you mean?"

"You. Teasing me." He wears a crooked grin. "That's all you been doing and left me suffering."

"No, I didn't--"

"Looking the way you do. Acting all sweet. What did you think you were doing?"

"I... I'm sorry," you breathe.

He laughs again. "Don't be. It was worth the wait. Very worth it."

He puts your hand on his chest and watches himself play with your fingers. He brings your hand up and kisses your knuckles. His button-up is wrinkled and left undone to expose his torso. He rocks you with him as he hooks an arm around you.

"That was good," his voice is rocky and low. "Wasn't it?"

Your cheeks burn and you nod shyly. "It felt... Good."

"Oh, I could tell. Those noises," he leans in and kisses your forehead. He hums. "How do you got me wanting even more?"

You bask in his embrace. You try to focus on the moment and not what awaits you. Not how you should be at home. You only want to be here. With him.

"Wanna get washed up?" He brings his hand up to your cheek and cradles your face. He pecks your lips before you can answer, swaying you with him. "Together?"

"Hm," you hum softly. Unsure.

"I smell like sunscreen and... You," he snickers. "Not that I mind."

Your cheeks singe at his insinuation. You feel a sheen over your skin, residue of your indulgence with him. The heat of the sun lingers in you, burning up the last of your energy. A shower sounds nice though you'd prefer it alone.

"Sure," you agree. You can't find it in you to say no.

He smiles and kisses you again. It feels good to make someone happy. To make him happy.

He clasps into your hand as he draws away. He pulls you after him as he leads you further into the beach house. He takes you into the bathroom and a small gasp flutter from you.

One wall is entirely transparent. A window that looks out at the coast and sparkling water, trees swaying as they frame the utopic scenery. The sunset tints the space with shades of coral and amber

Nick turns on a light. Small bulbs in a row overhead that give a hazy natural glow over the evergreen and teak. There is no shower, rather a large square tub at the centre of the space, built into the floor and trimmed in wooden panel to resemble a bath house. The tiles are a mosaic of ivory and deep greens and the fixtures are a deep copper. It's breathtaking. Quite literally as your chest aches from your pent up awe.

Nick rubs between your shoulders and drags his hands down your back. You shiver. You only have the twisted swimsuit and wrinkled coverup. He stands behind you and presses against your back. He kisses your crown and purrs.

"It's nice to getaway, huh?" He growls.

You nod, stuck in place as you stare off through the windowed wall. The desolation sets in on you. The distance from what you know sinks like iron into your stomach.

Nick slips the sheer coverup down your arms. Another ripple rolls over you. He makes quicker work of the bikini barely clinging to your figure.

You hug yourself as he moves past you. He gets down to pull the lever for the stopper and twists on the faucet. The water pours out of two taps opposite each other.

He stands and unbuttons his shirt. He rumples it and tosses it as he approaches you. He stops in front of you as he shoves his shorts down. You at your eyes as he smirks.

"Baby, you're getting me going again," he takes your hands in his and walks backwards

He leads you down into the tub. The water is warm and soothing around your ankles, lapping up higher and higher. He tugs you down with him as he gets to his knees.

You kneel awkwardly then nearly topple as he urges you closer. He spins you and pulls you into his lap. He moves you as easily as a doll

He leans you against his chest as you feel his desire rigid against your bottom. His hands rove up and down your sides as he sighs. You resemble as your core tingles. Despite how raw you are, that need sparks.

Slowly, you ease into him. The heat of the water, the weight of the day, the closeness of his body coil around you. You tilt your head back over his shoulder as he spreads his legs and lets you skip down between his thighs.

You laze against him and close your eyes. Your muscles slacken and you stifle a yawn. Your head is foggy and your nerves fuzzy.

His touch dulls as you drift into a daze. You know he's touching you but you can't stop him. You don't want to. As you fade into a trance, you're all too aware of his fingers crawling down your pelvis.

He leans with you and the water stops flowing. He sits up again and nuzzles your hair.

He rubs between your folds and a moan wafts from you. You drown in the sensation of his gentle tending. Patient but persistent.

You twitch as he brings you again to the peak of delight. You push your head back over his shoulder and sigh. The water stirs as he moves you subtle, lifting you over him. He shifts and lowers you onto his lap. He impales you, choking a squeak from your dry throat.

You wince and your eyes snap open. You're so worn out his intrusion makes you tear up. You whimper and wriggle, only adding to the torment in your walls.

He hushes you as he spreads his hand across your throat. He grips just firm enough to keep you still. His other hand clamps down on your hip and he rocks your pelvis.

You murmur dumbly as your body yields to his control. So much as it hurts, the flames flicker higher and lick up your back and thighs. You want him to stop but keep going. You don't know exactly what you want. You can't think enough to figure that out.

His deep grunts clog in your ear and he dips his head down beside yours. The pinch of his teeth startled you. You clasp onto his thick wrist as he squeezes your throat tighter. He snarls as he moves you faster and faster.

Your breath burns in your chest and throat as you can barely puff past his hold on you. He rolls his hips up into you, burying deeper with each tilt. His body tenses against yours and his nails dig into your skin.

He drones as you feel him unravel. A new slickness spills out around him as he slows your tempo. He slides his hand across your stomach and his other falls away from your neck. He exhales with a rattle.

"Princess..." He utters against your ear. "You're so good to me."

You languish in a stupor. Beneath the dull shell he's made of you, there's a tremour. A fear suddenly lit as that heat of lust recedes.

He's inside you... All of him. He just... And earlier he did the same. You're not on anything to deal with the consequences. Your dad would never allow it.

Your heart clenches and you sit up. He catches you around the waist, wrestling you still. You relent and run your hands over his forearms as he keeps you against him. You don't know how to say it. It's your own fault. You should've thought of it before...

You're too embarrassed at your own stupidity.

"Baby, what's the matter?" He rasps.

Lie. He says you shouldn't but is it so bad if it makes him happy?

"I have to... Pee."

He chuckles. You're on fire. What a bad lie.

"Ha, alright," he lets you go.

You pull off of him and he sputters, "wait--ugh. Baby, you gotta be careful," he groans.

You turn to look at him as he has his hand on his dick, squirming. "I'm sensitive."

"Sorry, I--" you stand and feel his cum trickle out and meld with the water dripping down your thighs. "Oh..."

You look down and he does too. He hums. "I love that, baby. Come here--"

"But--"

"Shh. Hold it." He beckons you closer as he gets to his knees.

He reaches for you and brings you near. He nudges your thighs apart and bends forward. He pushes his face against your cunt and licks up the slick mess between your folds. You yipe and latch onto his head to keep from slipping.

He wiggles his head, rubbing his face against you as he growls. He pulls back at last and looks up at you. His eyes are wild and his stubby beard shines with his cum and yours.

He licks his lips. "Tasty."

You blink and stumble away. He reclined once more as you stagger around. You climb out of the tub and barely keep from slipping. You rush for the door.

"Baby, thought you had to go," he says.

You face him and shake your head. "What?"

He points to the toilet. You cringe.

"In front of you?" You ask.

He snorts. "Princess, with everything we've done, does it matter?"

You sniff. "I don't know if... I can."

"I'll close my eyes, baby." He makes a show of doing so and tilts his head back.

You glance around. You lied but you can't tell him you were panicking. That you just had to get away.

You turn and go to the toilet. You lift the lid and sit. Just think of waterfalls.

Silence. Stillness. You can hear the water sift around him subtly.

Finally, you start and it's more than you expect. It's a deep and almost painful release. You bend over and moan. It feels almost cleansing.

"Better get back here when you're done and really clean up," he taunts. "You dirty, dirty girl."

You sit up and wipe. You stand and flush. Reluctantly, you go back to the tub. You get in and wade around as you watch Nick. He's calm and unmoving.

You go to the side of the tub and grab the dark bottle of soap. His fingertips frighten you as he touches your back. You take the loofah next to the bottle and face him. You need to distract yourself and him.

"I'll clean you up," you offer.

"Sexy," he slithers. "Alright, princess."

You push through the water and sit on your heels. You squeeze soap into the loofah and lather. You start with his shoulders. He purrs.

You focus on the simple task of cleaning him. Your eyes eat up every inch of muscle. You can't help but admire him even if that fear needles in your skull.

"Oh baby," he sighs. "You're going to get me started again."

[ariaxco]

stop romanticizing your trauma and start healing it ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 🌸

you've made your pain your personality. your trauma has become your brand. your struggles are your identity.

you talk about your mental health like it's an aesthetic. you post quotes about being "beautifully broken." you wear your damage like a badge of honor.

and somewhere along the way, you forgot that trauma isn't meant to be permanent. it's meant to be healed.

you're addicted to the sympathy

trauma gets you attention. it gets you understanding. it gets you excuses for your behavior and free passes for your mistakes.

people feel sorry for you. they lower their expectations. they make accommodations for your pain.

and part of you likes it.

you've become so comfortable being the victim that you're scared of being the victor. you've gotten so used to people seeing you as fragile that you're terrified of being seen as strong.

but sympathy isn't love. pity isn't respect. being seen as broken isn't the same as being seen as human.

you think your pain makes you special

you think your trauma gives you depth. you think your struggles make you more interesting. you think your damage makes you more relatable.

you compete with other people's pain. you minimize their struggles because yours feel bigger. you gatekeep suffering like it's a club you don't want anyone else to join.

but pain doesn't make you special. everyone has trauma. everyone has struggles. everyone has been hurt.

what makes you special is what you do with that pain. do you let it define you, or do you let it refine you?

you're using your past to excuse your present

"i have trust issues because of my ex." "i have abandonment issues because of my childhood." "i can't commit because of my trauma."

your past explains your present, but it doesn't excuse it.

yes, you were hurt. yes, it wasn't your fault. yes, it changed you.

but your trauma is an explanation, not an excuse. it's context, not a free pass. it's a reason, not a justification.

you're responsible for your healing, regardless of who caused the damage.

you're scared of who you'd be without your pain

your trauma has been with you for so long that you don't know who you are without it. you've built your entire identity around being wounded.

you're scared that if you heal, you'll lose yourself. you're scared that if you're not broken, you'll be boring. you're scared that if you're not struggling, you'll have nothing to talk about.

but healing doesn't erase you. it reveals you. it doesn't take away your personality. it gives you back your power.

you're not your trauma. you're not your mental illness. you're not your struggles.

you're the person who survived all of that and still chose to keep going.

you think healing means forgetting

you think if you heal, you have to forgive everyone who hurt you. you think you have to pretend it never happened. you think you have to be grateful for the lessons.

but healing doesn't mean forgetting. it means remembering without being controlled by the memory.

healing doesn't mean forgiving. it means releasing the power those people have over your present.

healing doesn't mean being grateful for your trauma. it means being grateful for your strength.

you're confusing healing with happiness

you think healing means being happy all the time. never struggling. never having bad days. never feeling triggered.

but healing isn't about becoming perfect. it's about becoming functional.

healed people still have bad days. they still get triggered. they still struggle sometimes.

the difference is they don't let those moments define them. they don't use them as excuses to stop growing. they don't wear them as identities.

you're waiting for someone else to save you

you're waiting for the perfect therapist, the perfect partner, the perfect friend to come and fix you.

you think healing is something that happens to you, not something you do.

but no one can save you but you. no one can heal you but you. no one can choose recovery for you but you.

other people can support you, guide you, love you through it. but they can't do the work for you.

how to stop romanticizing trauma and start healing

1. stop talking about your trauma like it's your identity

you are not your depression. you are not your anxiety. you are not your trauma.

you are a person who experiences these things, but they are not who you are.

start introducing yourself by your interests, goals, and values, not your diagnoses.

2. take responsibility for your healing

your trauma is not your fault, but your healing is your responsibility.

stop waiting for other people to fix you. stop expecting the world to accommodate your triggers. stop using your past as an excuse for your present behavior.

get therapy. do the work. take your medication. practice self-care. set boundaries.

healing is an active choice, not a passive experience.

3. stop competing with other people's pain

your trauma doesn't make you more interesting, deeper, or more worthy of love than someone who hasn't experienced trauma.

stop minimizing other people's struggles. stop gatekeeping suffering. stop making everything about your pain.

everyone deserves compassion, including people whose lives look easier than yours.

4. focus on who you're becoming, not who you were

stop defining yourself by what happened to you and start defining yourself by what you're doing about it.

are you growing? are you learning? are you healing? are you helping others?

your future self matters more than your past self.

5. find identity beyond your struggles

who are you when you're not talking about your trauma? what do you enjoy? what are you passionate about? what are your goals?

develop interests, hobbies, relationships, and goals that have nothing to do with your mental health.

you are more than your struggles.

6. stop seeking sympathy and start seeking solutions

sympathy feels good in the moment, but it doesn't change anything.

stop telling people about your problems to get their pity. start telling people about your problems to get their help.

seek advice, not just understanding. seek solutions, not just support.

7. celebrate your growth, not just your pain

you post about your bad days but not your good ones. you talk about your struggles but not your successes. you share your breakdowns but not your breakthroughs.

start celebrating your healing. acknowledge your progress. recognize your strength.

you survived. you're growing. you're healing. that's worth celebrating.

what real healing looks like

real healing is boring. it's not aesthetic. it's not poetic. it's not romantic.

real healing is:

going to therapy even when you don't want to

taking your medication consistently

setting boundaries with toxic people

doing the homework your therapist gives you

practicing coping skills when you're triggered

choosing recovery every single day

real healing is choosing function over dysfunction. choosing growth over stagnation. choosing your future over your past.

the difference between healing and performing healing

performing healing: posting inspirational quotes about your journey. actual healing: doing the unglamorous work in private.

performing healing: talking about your trauma constantly. actual healing: learning to talk about other things too.

performing healing: seeking sympathy for your struggles. actual healing: seeking solutions for your problems.

performing healing: staying comfortable in your dysfunction. actual healing: pushing yourself to grow even when it's uncomfortable.

why some people don't want you to heal

when you start healing, some people will try to keep you stuck.

they're used to you being the broken one. they're used to being the stable one in comparison. they're used to you needing them.

your healing threatens their identity. your growth makes them question their own stagnation. your recovery highlights their refusal to address their own issues.

let them be uncomfortable with your growth. your healing isn't about them.

you are not responsible for staying small so others feel big

some people need you to stay broken so they can feel whole. some people need you to stay stuck so they can feel superior. some people need you to stay wounded so they can feel like the healer.

but you are not responsible for managing other people's egos. you are not required to stay small so others feel big. you are not obligated to stay broken so others feel fixed.

heal anyway. grow anyway. thrive anyway.

the person you're becoming

when you stop romanticizing your trauma and start healing it, you become someone who:

doesn't use their past as an excuse for their present

takes responsibility for their growth and healing

helps others without trying to save them

is interesting for reasons beyond their struggles

chooses function over dysfunction every day

you become someone who survived their trauma and decided to thrive despite it.

your trauma is part of your story, but it doesn't have to be the whole book. you get to write the next chapter. make it a good one.

[pinkfey]

remember how in dao there were always like multiple flirty options u could just spring on ur love interest and it wasn't something that was brushed past it would stop a conversation dead in its tracks to have a cute secondary flirty offshoot with small variations dependent on the flirty option u initially chose with a unique course correction to get back on topic after...... yeah.

[call-me-copycat]

Hello everyone! This week and the first few days of next week are going to be particularly hellish for me ( ⌯᷄ ·̫ ⌯᷅ก )

I promise you that after next week, things will slow down once again and I'll be able to message everyone I've been putting off (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

I don't think anything can ever beat Haikyuu for me. And I don't think I can ever express my feelings about it in words. No matter how many times I rewatch it, it just makes my heart swoon. My happy place. I'm glad I exist in this exact timeline where I got to witness it like this.

[v-v-void]

Was just gonna make a post about how nice it is to have someone to distract me when hunter falls asleep at night. How sweet this little rat is, following me around making demands and giving me the best snuggles. Only for him to start humping his stuffy while sitting on my chest. I tried moving the stuffy but he starting biting my hands. Imagine my surprise when I tried correcting it and he gave me attitude then proceeded to try humping my arm. 🙃 Him and his stuffy are now at my feet on the couch. It's half in his mouth and he's passed out.😂

[volivolition]

any updates about your fics?? :0

(pls don’t feel pressured to respond to this if you’re busy!!)

!! hello anon :3!! <333

ive been writing a specific part for Unstoppable Force, where volition and harry talking to each other. and oh holy shit this fucking conversation is like!!! YEAH it's in character and i know what to write, but it hurts so fucking bad to actually write it, help me hgkjg

while the volition and electrochemistry thing is the main plot, on the side there's also kim who just transferred precincts, and harry who has a crush on him. and the kim/harry parallels to volition/echem... "i'm putting up a front of reserved responsibility and i have to repress any emotion that could compromise my commitment to my duties." immovable object and "i feel like the worst kind of mess and i want to get better but i don't know if i deserve to be helped or loved because im a mess." unstoppable force :']

but VOLITION IS STILL A SKILL, SO HE'S ADVISING HARRY WITH THIS PERSPECTIVE. so when harry says "kim shouldn't like me, huh?" then volition (who is projecting himself and echem onto kim and harry's relationship) swallows and says, "you're right. kim shouldn't like you, and if he does, he feels like he's making a mistake. he probably wants - more than anything in the world - to stop feeling that way, and for you to stop feeling that way about him."

and harry (who is taking this literally because he doesn't know what's happening between voli and echem) sadly agrees "yeah. liking me will probably get in the way of his work. he shouldn't want to love me, that just... wouldn't make sense for him. im only making him worse."

BOYS. ITS A FEEDBACK LOOP. ITS AN ECHO CHAMBER. YOU'RE ONLY FUELING EACH OTHER'S ISSUES. STOP STOP STOP HGJKG

[unboundbytime]

.

[kalosian-woods]

clemont post-crisis really needs to be studied. but like also, so does everyone in kalos. clemont specifically i can see being really paranoid, cause even after taking back his gym and getting his invention and gym team back, it was taken away from him, right under his nose, the result being him losing his gym and soon, the city of light will fall with it.

so i can totally get why clemont would be really paranoid and overly cautious and prepared. but like geez man, this kid's rivals are full grown adults who just wish they could be as smart as him so they don't have to work, like wow.

the episode in general is so messed up in so many different levels, he was kidnapped, almost got mind controlled and after xerosic was put to jail, he immediately brushed it off like "okay! lets get back home now guys! :D" but like... what if we don't clemont. what if we talk about it. time to face another one of your fears-- addressing your feelings. your emotions. your thoughts.

(also not too mention, what happened to his gym team when team flare was taking over the tower??? did they get captured?? were they with clembot?? even then were they okay when clembot got destroyed? WHAT HAPPENED???)

-⚡ (yeah! i might talk about the other characters, mostly the gym leaders, elite 4, professor and his team, etc! i really like the pokemon league... especially the electric type leaders, they're so silly. from surge to volkner, to elesa, to clemont, to iono, we have such a wild variety of them.)

It's definitely the thing where everyone was affected by the Crisis in some way, but some had more of a role to play and thus took a harder hit with the whole situation (or at least should've). Clemont could've been semi-okay bar the fact that, y'know, Clembot as we knew it died (and also losing the Gym again), but then that episode had to happen and I'm at a loss. What did he do to deserve getting kidnapped after the whole ordeal??? I love how it's not even Ash going through the reprecussions because of Greninja/just being that OP or even Bonnie for having a connection with Zygarde, no, Xerosic felt so horrible about getting beat by a child back at a building he stole from said child so he felt the need to just control him instead. His priorities lol... (But even so, the fact that his whole Gym got taken away was probably one of the worst nightmares to him. He had so much trouble taking it back from a rouge invention and now it's happening again but the world is falling to pieces as well. Because of the device that is in his own Gym. The accountability he must've felt for it, undeserved as it was, must be crazy. If he wasn't already oerly-prepared before, you can bet your socks he's got an invention for every possible bad thing under the sun after the Crisis lol.)

But even with Clemont, he really did just brush it off so casually and that makes me even more worried, if that's even possible. He's so blase about everything that was happening around that fact. Weird man I met once (1) before in my life literally stealing me alongside a part of a Legendary Pokemon?? I'll just ask what's his buisiness and use my highly-specific anti-measure against his device that will cause me unimaginable amounts of pain. Same weird man who tried to control me trying to jump off the plane (in which who is steering this thing??)? Nah, I'll catch him and tell him to repent. Like I'm with Xerosic with this one, what is actually giving you your strength ability to move on so easily?? They watch that guy go to jail so casually lmao. And I get that the whole Squishy + Greninja thing happened right after, but was no one going to talk about it?? No??

I think, in a way, being controlled like that really parallels what happened with Clembot in the Crisis. The body is still there, but the memories, the feelings and decisions that can arise from that, can't be drawn from anymore. You are not you anymore. Xerosic aims to puppeteer him fully, denying him of any autonomy, and it's also so similar suto how Clemont sort of carried himself around before at the start too. He thought that he couldn't do both Gym stuff and being an inventor at the same time. He made an invention that looks like him to carry out the Gym Leader role of him (and now Xerosic wants to make him a tireless inventor at his beck and call). Clemont initially was very closed off and wasn't as interactive, and throughout this journey he had learnt to live as boldly as he ever could. And now, after everything that has ever happened, he was faced with the terrifying ordeal of losing that all over again. I think, maybe, he doesn't want to confront that reality, that he could've lost all of his freedom and his own autonomy and having to go through that alone, at that. There is no physical proof, after all. He does not 'have' to face it fully. The problem is solved, and so, to him, there is no use thinking about it. Not when the rest of Lumiose is still under heavy construction and he needs to be the beacon of hope and standing tall (just like Prism Tower, just like a Gym Leader would, just like everyone would expect from the inventor lighting up the world).

About his Gym Team, we do see Heliolisk with Clembot in the crisis, so I presume they're just always?? With Clembot?? Tbh the anime absolutely ignores the heck out of them at all times and I don't think we even see the Mags after the Gym Takeback (okay I checked the only other time is 'Battling With A Clean Slate'... yeah). But nooo, you've got me thinking about the death arghhh I would hope that the Pokeballs are durable, and also I am of the firm belief that Clembot would've at least tried to protect them to his very last moments. In the anime proper they're probably just all with Clembot for infinity times forever, which I guess isn't a terrible fate but also yeah. Sad. At least they're alive though???

[mjf-af]

huh. is there something up with McFly July this year?

@daryfromthefuture @bg-sparrow @mythical-bookworm and @mauvecardigans 👀

[cursedbluebird]

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

tagging: you

---

Name: Rosie

Pronouns: she/her

Birthday (no year): March 24

Where are you from? What is your time zone? Nebraska, CST

Roleplay experience: since 2009

Got any pets? Freya and Bast the naughtiest kitties in the universe

Favorite time of year: Fall

Some interests and things you like: sewing, thinking way too much about clothes

Some funfacts & trivia about you: - I wrote my undergrad thesis on the progression fashion of the 20th c, but I am terrible about keeping up on modern fashion

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? L E G E N D O F Z E L D A.... I love Majora's Mask... Hero of Time my beloved baby boy..... I also love Okami so much. I'm a sucker for fairy tales and mythology.

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: I'm actually not a big pokemon person! I started with Y. Ghosts and Psychic are my faves, particularly Mimikyu, Meowstic, and Hoopa. Gengar is also shaped like a friend :)

How did you get into Fire Emblem? I had been interested in the series since the GBA days but it wasn't until I got my 3ds and awakening that I got the chance to play a game.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? Awakening, Conquest & Birthright, 3H, Shadows of Valentia

First Fire Emblem game: Awakening

Favorite Fire Emblem game: Fates or 3H

Any Fire Emblem crushes? Oh my God Niles hi tee-hee... Tho Seteth damage art did get me into playing feh... And uh... My husband does look like Xander ...and his name is.... Alexander........🥴 I've posted my questionable taste in fe characters you can find it in the chat if you search

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? - Awakening: Chrom- Fates: oh good God idr.... Kaze? I know I did Niles in one run... Did I do Stahl in Birthright? Kaze in conquest and Stahl in Birthright sounds right- Three Houses: Dimitri - Engage: haven't played engage. Place your bets for fun

Favorite Fire Emblem class: I like the magic classes! Healing and attacking! Tho Camilla's malig knight does have a special place in my heart 💜

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? Dark magic user...I do not escape the goth aesthetic.... Unfortunately I am too much of a noodle to be a malig knight 😞

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Fear the Deer!!! (Side note, bless my luck bc when I ordered a leftover bundle from fodlans fables I got the deer. A cosplayer I look up to also offered me her deer pin from the fe3h preorder bonus which had me 🥹)

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? I don't know what this means but I copied this from Erica and her answer was funny.

How did you find TOA? I track the Marianne tag on Tumblr and saw the previous Marianne drop. The old shit post emblem group I was in was falling apart and I thought it would be nice to join a new one.

Current TOA muses: Marianne, Camilla, Triandra

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? Marianne my cursed little blue bird 💙 I've thought about dropping her, thinking that maybe someone else would do a better job, but I just can't let her go.

Have you had any other TOA muses? Other than cami and Tria nope

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? Um??? I don't know? I got told that Tria was a Rosie muse when I reserved her so I guess y'all know better than me lol

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? I like writing horror and setting the scene :) my favorite part about combat events is describing the creatures we're facing from my characters pov

Favorite TOA-related memory: What Kent told Mari in her first lore event about the importance of healers have lived rent free in my memory since it happened. Also Griss trying to blow himself up in the arena and despite his best efforts not succeeding.

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day in TOA that you’d like to share? Charlotte is one I've thought about and is the one most likely to send Triandra packing....there are an awful lot of men at the academy who would do a great job taking care of her and her family 😏

[elixirfromthestars]

By The Warmth Of The Oven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. tipsy bucky.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Bella @nickfowlerrr ♡ In honor of Can You Feel It? being the first of many beautiful fics I read of yours 🥹🩷 Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

bucky masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

“Smells good…” Bucky’s voice comes out of nowhere from behind you as you grab another tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. You glance over your shoulder to find him sauntering into the kitchen, making his way over to you. 

“Freshly baked cookies always do,” you reply with a gratified grin, placing the tray on top of the stove so the cookies have some time to cool off before you plate them. Your friends had already gone through three batches of them and they practically begged you to make more. It was a nice feeling, almost rewarding in a way, knowing something you made was so loved by your friends. 

“‘m not talking about the cookies, doll,” there’s a bit of a slur in his cadence that catches your attention at the same time that your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to him to see he’s staring at you with a dreamy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, propped up against the counter by his elbow. You frown at his unusual nonchalant demeanor. You’ve never seen him act this way before. 

Your head tilts slightly as you examine him a little closer. There’s a bit of a sway to his stance and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Bucky, are you drunk?” Almost immediately he shakes his head at your question, “No. I can't get drunk,” he replies with an obvious tone, and yet the pouty frown on his face tells a different story. 

“Right, you can’t…” you affirm, mulling it over for a moment,“Unless…did Thor give you some of his special Asgardian liquor?” You ask, stepping slightly closer to him, the apples of his cheeks getting rosier in response. 

“I took a shot. I started feeling funny and came here—felt safe,” he mutters that last part reluctantly, sharing something with you he wouldn’t if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system.

“In the kitchen?”

“With you.” 

Your amusement is replaced with a soft expression at his response. He most likely hasn’t felt the effects of alcohol in decades and a part of him doesn’t know how to cope with the resurfaced inhibitions. The fact that while feeling unwell his first instinct was to come looking for you—it made a warmth spread throughout you that could easily rival the heat of the oven.

You reach out to cup his cheek, soothing the flushed skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans into your touch, his eyes shining with a gentle vulnerability that causes your heart to squeeze in your chest. You and Bucky have always had a flirtatious friendship for as long as you can remember, but it's never gone past that. Seeing him so openly affectionate with you stirs emotions deep within you that you aren’t sure you’re ready to bring to the surface.

“I don’t think the alcohol is going to stay in your system for long, Buck. How about we do this…you wait for me here while I go out and serve the cookies I baked,” his eyes widen slightly and you can tell he wants to protest until you add, “I’ll bring back some hot chocolate for us to share and we can enjoy it along with some cookies while we wait for that liquor in your system to wear off. How does that sound?” You suggest softly and you can see the way he thinks it through before he agrees with a nod.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you plate a few dozen cookies on decorative plates, leaving a handful behind for you and Bucky to share. You make sure to quickly take them out to your friends and serve up two piping hot mugs of hot chocolate before making it back to the kitchen in no time. 

When you meet back with Bucky you find him sitting on the counter where he watches his legs as he swings them lazily to and fro. You observe him fondly for a moment longer than necessary. Trying to commit to memory how carefree and unguarded he is at this moment. When he notices you his face lights up in a way that makes you feel like the most precious person on earth. 

“Here, as promised,” you hand him a mug of hot chocolate which he takes eagerly—too eagerly—as he immediately goes for a sip of it. Before he can, however, you stop him, placing your hand as a barrier between his lips and the mug. His mouth ends up pressed into your palm, and you ignore the heat that finds its way to your face at the softness of his lips brushing against your skin.

“Bucky, it's scalding hot! You’ll burn yourself! Wait until it cools down a bit, please.”

“It’s not gonna burn me, doll. I’m a super soldier. Watch—”

“Bucky!” 

You use the cookies as leverage to coax Bucky into waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down before he drinks any of it. For the next hour or so, you enjoy each other's company. Between the sweet treats and the lighthearted conversations, time flies by in a heartbeat. 

Then, while in the middle of a discussion over your last mission, Bucky does something that completely takes you by surprise in the best way possible—he kisses you. It’s short, but profound in the way he pours everything into it. Every flirtation you ever questioned could mean something more was proven here with this kiss, that it had meant so much more for more than just you. 

You’re speechless when he pulls away beaming as if his heart might burst.

“Looks like I was right.” 

“Huh?”

“I asked myself what was sweeter. You or the cookies. I knew it'd be you,” he states as a matter of fact, drinking up the way his words affect you as much as the kiss had. There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe him, but it's not because of him, but more so because you think you must be dreaming. 

“That's the liquor talking.”

“I've sobered up a while ago, doll.”

You search his eyes for the truth of it all and you find it. This is real. This isn’t a dream. And the yearning that burns bright in his eyes is one you know all too well. It’s the same one reflecting in your eyes as your gazes lock on one another.

“I still think the cookies are sweeter,” you whisper, your eyes shining with a playful challenge despite the way your heart races in your chest with anticipation. He catches on, licking his lips as his flesh hand snakes its way to the back of your head to cradle it gently.

“‘m gonna prove you wrong, doll,” he declares in a huskier tone as he pulls you in for another kiss. And that night, by the warmth of the oven, Bucky continues to kiss you until he successfully proves you wrong. 

[nochd]

This was on @whatareyoureallyafraidof's post where they put up this:

And I responded with this image:

and promised in the tags to elaborate if asked. And, @frodo-the-weeb, I will. But it's going to get long and I'm going to have to split it up into several reblogs.

First of all, since not everybody in the world is a Silmarillion enthusiast, let me explain what we're referring to.

One of the stories in the Silmarillion, and possibly the one Tolkien cared about the most, is the tale of Lúthien and Beren; a highly condensed version of a narrative poem called the Lay of Leithian, which Tolkien began writing in the 1930s and tried to get his publisher interested in after the success of The Hobbit.

(Their readers said no, and they tactfully asked him to focus on his Hobbit sequel instead. "The result," in Tolkien's own words, "was The Lord of the Rings.")

The skeleton of The Lay of Leithian is as follows; I'm intentionally leaving out a bunch of information that weaves it into the overarching story of the Silmarillion but isn't relevant to the thesis I'm advancing here.

Lúthien, an Elven princess and enchantress, falls in love with a mortal man, a ranger called Beren. Her father, the Elven King Thingol, disapproves and sends him Beren off to fetch one of the jewels from the crown of the Dark Lord Morgoth. Lúthien tries to join Beren but her father imprisons her in a tower to stop her, only it's actually a treehouse because they're forest elves. Lúthien magically grows her hair long and uses it to escape. By the time she catches up with Beren he is chained in the dungeons of Morgoth's second-in-command, Thû (whom Tolkien later renamed Sauron). She rescues him with the help only of a dog, who defeats Thû himself in single combat. They then live in the forest together for quite some time, but Beren feels bad about being the reason she can't go home to her family, and still intends to finish his mission and get the jewel. He leaves one morning while she's still asleep, so as not to put her in danger, and then when he's on the threshold of Morgoth's underground fortress in the far North of Middle-Earth she catches up with him again and he accepts that she's not going to be put off. Together they enter Morgoth's fortress and make their way to his throne room. They are in disguise but Morgoth is not fooled and uncovers Lúthien in front of everyone, declaring his intention to make her one of his many slaves. Lúthien offers to sing and dance for him, which is the way she works her magic. She puts everyone in the throne room to sleep, including both Beren and eventually Morgoth. She wakes Beren and he takes the jewel and they flee, but as they get to the outer door they are stopped by Morgoth's guard-wolf, who bites off Beren's hand holding the jewel.

That's as far as Tolkien ever got with the poem, but we have the synopsis in the prose Silmarillion to tell us the rest of the story; again cutting it down to the quick, Thingol accepts Beren as his son-in-law, Morgoth's guard-wolf attacks Doriath, Beren goes and hunts it but is mortally wounded, his spirit goes to the Halls of Waiting in the Undying Lands where the dead in Middle-Earth go, Lúthien also goes there and, again through her magical song, persuades Mandos the god of the dead to let him come back. Mandos offers her a choice: live on immortally as an Elf without Beren, or return to Middle-Earth with Beren but both of them will grow old and die. She chooses the latter.

Tolkien created Lúthien as a portrait of his wife Edith, which makes Beren a picture of himself. We know this for a fact because he had LUTHIEN written on her grave when she died, and when he joined her in it two years later the name BEREN was written for him:

Now on the lower right side of my response image you'll see Pauline Baynes' illustration of the Lady in the Green Kirtle from The Silver Chair, one of C. S. Lewis's Narnia stories. A quick synopsis of the Lady of the Green Kirtle's part in the story:

The Lady is a witch who rules a gloomy kingdom underneath Narnia, accessible through a fissure in the earth in an old ruined city far to the North. Before the story opens she has enspelled and kidnapped King Caspian's son Prince Rilian, whom she intends to send leading an army to conquer Narnia in her name. For twenty-three hours a day he is her willing slave and lap-dog; to maintain the spell, he must be bound to the titular silver chair for the remaining hour, during which he is sane and aware of his imprisonment. The protagonists, Eustace and Jill and their guide Puddleglum, meet her and Rilian unawares on their journey to the North; she sends them astray and almost succeeds in getting them eaten by giants. Eventually they rescue Rilian from the chair, but she sings a magical song which very nearly puts them all to sleep but for Puddleglum's intervention. Foiled, she transforms into a serpent, attacks them, and they kill her.

It is my contention that the Lady in the Green Kirtle is Lewis's caricature of Lúthien, with the enslaved and befuddled Prince Rilian representing Beren; and further, that Lewis knew or recognised that Lúthien and Beren were a literary portrait of the Tolkiens, so that The Silver Chair is ultimately a nasty commentary on their marriage.

In forthcoming reblogs I will lay out my evidence for this thesis.

[rosemaryhoney27]

sleepy boy

Danny is tired but happy he told his parents about him being Phantom and they took it surprisingly well. Sure they were sad but accepted what happened. It was all to good to be true so Danny remained on his guard around his parents.

But as time passed nothing happend and his parents became even more supportive of him. After finding out about Danny and how he became a halfa it was easy for the to figure out Vlad after an epic beat down of one Vladimer Masters The Fenton parents forced vlad to use his influence to get rid of the GIW

After all of that Danny finally felt himself relax all the tension left his body and he fell asleep. just a little nap.

At this time, the still unknown king of the infinite realms gained a new power. This is also when Danny begins his sleepwalking adventures.

The first time it happend the Fenton family had no idea what to do Danny had just created a portal in the middle of town and sleep walked right into it and reappeared out of a another portal on top of the school.

The next time it happened, Danny had fallen asleep in Mr. Lancers' class when he suddenly stood up, created a portal, and walked through it while also transforming into his Phantom form. Needless to say, Danny's identity as Phantom was no longer a secret in Amity Park after that.

Danny, of course, has no idea this is even happening. No one has the heart to tell him when he has finally started to relax. The people of Amity Park quickly got used to Danny randomly popping up in places via a portal, so much so that there was a segment called Sleeping Phantom Watch on the news. This was the new normal until one day Danny Portals away, and no one has any idea where he is.

The bat fam had just sat down for dinner when a lazerus green portal appeared in the dining room. Everyone freezes, watching the portal, when a white-haired teen walks out.

Everyone is immediately on their feet, ready for battle,e yelling at the white-haired boy as the portal closes behind him

"what are you doing here" Bruse growls using his Batman voice the boy doesn't respond just stands in place

Damian rushes towards the boy and presses his sword to the intruder's neck. "he asked you a question." still no response

Soon, the boy was surrounded, and they got ready to attack when the white-haired teen let out a loud snore. "Wait, is he..." Tim gets closer to look at the boy and waves a hand in front of the boy's face, who snorts. "He's sleep"

"What, no way " Dick leans forward to see for himself just as the white-haired boy starts walking again and walks straight through Dicks body as if he wasn't even there Panic erupts as Dick pats his body down, shivering "S..so cold"

The boy keeps walking, and they can't grasp him. Then another portal shows up in front of the boy, who walks through it, and it closes instantly after him.

After that, the Bat fam kept seeing the sleep-waking portaling teen all over Gotham.

During one of his sessions, he interrupted the joker who had kidnapped Jason and Damian, but this time, he wasn't alone. Behind him was a tiny green puppy who was pulling on his pant leg, trying to drag the boy back through the portal when it closed, leaving the boy and dog.

The dog seems to cover his snout in frustration, and honestly, Jason and Damian could understand. But of course, Joker had to ruin the mood.

"Well, well, what have we here?" He grins, getting into the boys's faces. "An uninvited guest, how I hate party crashers. How about I introduce you to my friend Pain. Tell me what hurts more. I never get a straight answer." Joker cackles and swings a crowbar at the boy's head

Jason and Damian yell, hoping to wake the boy up as the weapon comes down. A loud growl makes the joker pause before he could land a hit and he looks down to see the puppy growling fiercly at him standing in front of the boy. "Out of the way, mutt!!" Joker yells, kicking at the dog

A move he would quickly regret as the dog grew and grew and grew until it was the size of a large Bear with teeth bigger and longer than jokers arms which was proven as the dog proceeded to tear said arm and crowbar off jokers body

The clown screams in horror as the once tiny harmless looking puppy procedes to tear his limbs off. Soon the Joker was nothing but a head with a body. The dog was about to finish off the joker and bite his head off when the boy starts walking towards another portal.

The dog shrinks and chases after the boy before the portal closes.

Jason and Damian looked down at the crying limbless joker, and Jason burst out laughing, "That was the best thing I had ever seen in my life."

From then on, every time the mysterious sleepwalking boy appeared in Gotham, Jason was there with Damian, offering the dog treats and pets and helping the poor pup take care of his sleeping boy.

As for the rest of Gotham, they, like the Amity parkers, had become accustomed to the boy and his dog magically appearing in random places. No one bothered them, and after what happened to the Joker, none of the other Gotham rouges would even dare touch him if he showed up near them with the dog.

And if the dog wasn't there, well, the giant werewolf and the yeti were enough of a deterrent.

[thevoidstaredback]

A funny thought just came to me, so here's a new writing prompt:

The Justice League doesn't think that Batman has a civilian identity. For the most part, he only ever comes out at night, adding to the nocturnal rumors, but he has been seen during the day when there are huge problems or bigger rouge attacks.

And, because the JL don't think he has a civilian identity, they naturally assume that none of the other Gotham Vigilantes do, either. Signal, the only consistent day shift, is obviously a different breed than the rest. All of the others are nocturnal.

Extra points if they think they're a group of cryptids.

One day, Bruce and Tim are needed to help set up at WE for a press conference. One that Lois Lane is covering. At the same time, the JL Is having a meeting. Normally Dick would put on the Batman suit, but Nightwing is needed at the meeting, too. They can't say that Batman is off world, because all of those trips are logged and followed by the Lanterns. So, the next logical thing to do is for Nightwing to tell the JL that Batman and Red Robin were needed as civilians, but he will make sure to pass the information on to them, as well as record the meeting.

"Batman doesn't have a civilian identity," Is the response he gets. "None of you do, right?"

Nightwing, for all his training, doesn't react outside of his smile getting slightly bigger. "You don't think we have secret identities?"

"No, we kinda just assumed you all just hid away in a cave or something when you weren't needed or on duty."

Oh, these sweet summer children. Nightwing is trying very hard not to laugh at them. "We, we do have secret identities, we don't do nothing when we aren't in costume."

"Are you sure?" That's the Flash. "'Cause I'm pretty sure we'd recognize you guys out of costume." Kudos to him for being so confident about that. "Most of you only have tiny masks over your eyes. That's not enough to cover an identity."

Nightwing takes a glance at Superman, not that anyone can see his eyes move behind the domino mask. The alien's eyes have shifted left.

"I've been to Gotham plenty of time," Green Arrow speaks up, "I know I haven't seen everyone in the city, but I'm pretty sure I'd recognize your build. It's pretty distinct."

Bold. All of the Wayne Clan have met Green Arrow in and out of costume. They've actually met most of the JL in and out of costume. Should he tell them? Nah, that's not funny. He can't wait to tell the others.