#ash: i'm bad at communicating i should work on that

[arcane-ish]

Preliminary Zaundads timeline

(note: this is not a great, story, it's just what I think fits the facts presented the most)

Vander either falls in love with his miner buddy Silco or they knew each other first and became miners together.

They strike up friendships with their miner budies, Felicia, Connel and Sevika. Maybe they all meet in this shack to spend their breaks or plot their revolution.

At some point they organize. They create or take over the drop. According to Vi's mom they "turned a crack in the earth into a thriving commuity" on the very day where Vi's mom tells them that she's having a kid and Vander names the kid. She credits both Vander and Silco with having had that idea of creating the thriving community.

At this point Vander is satisfied with what they've achieved (We're done).

[admittedly, that could be sarcasm because he knows that they still have work ahead of them] However, Silco is thinking of more, of Zaun. Felicia describes their situation "living week to week" and says that that's "a lot of shit down here" that she would have to protect Vi from.

Vander seems to be into the idea of raising children and already talks about raising more than just a single one.

She talks about carving Zaun out of the bedrock through menial work ("blisters") and that Silco and Vander will figure it out together. Silco toasts to Zaun. Vander only toasts to blisters and bedrock (note that he calls back to that in the letter to writes to Silco after nearly killing him).

Vi gets born, Powder gets born. It seems Mylo and Claggor are sort of around?

Note that even though Powder and Vi are older, their mom and dad still work as miners.

My theory:

1.) Whatever Vander and Silco and the others were doing, they probably funded themselves through the mines? That's why Felicia and Connel kept mining. Or maybe they do deeper tunnels for additional housing? My theory is still that their big thing was to take over the mine they were working in and running it themselves (seize the means of production!) and they were able to fund a their thriving community.

2.) At this point Vander and Silco's relationship becomes more and more unhappy. And Vander distracts himself by throwing himself more and more into his role as an uncle and living vicariously through Felicia and Connel's relationship.

Vi and Powder apparently have a very happy childhool.

However something happens, leading to the Day of Ash uprising. (maybe something threatens their "thriving community") Where Felicia dies and Vander snaps and attacks Silco. However, he afterwards feels bad and writes him a letter, but Silco keeps his distance, not returning for years later.

Now, granted, most of this is still pretty unsatifying. For example, everything about Vi and Powder's childhood looks way too pristine and clean. Mining looks too happy and clean for how shit it should be.

Even Vander's Lanes after he drove out Silco were never that clean. (this is probably my hate for beardless Vander talking, maybe beardless Vander = Vander's self image of his more innocent self)

And that is aside that head canoning Vander and Silco running a criminal enterprise together is just way more fun than them completely sanely funding it through respectable mining.

How exactly did Vander get his Hound of Underground name anyway? I like to headcanon that he was a pit fighter like Vi, but was that before he became a miner or during or afterwards?

And how exactly did he get a reputation as a revolutionary at all when it feels that he barely did anything?

I'm just gonna pretend:

1.) Warwick is not dead. His healing factor will kick in. 2.) These are just the happy, sanitized, idealized memories of Vander's. We will get another flashback that will reveal that the truth was way darker and more fucked up and that Vander's happy memories were as fake as Viktor's happy cult community.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS WILL PROBABLY NOT HAPPEN BECAUSE THERE'S ONLY THREE MORE EPISODES AND THOSE WILL BE DEDICATED TO OTHER STORYLINES THAT STILL NEED TO WRAP UP. I CAN'T HEAR YOU.

[reflectingiridescent]

Rewatching the end of The San Lorenzo Job. Nate and Sophie are so full of shit (loving). The way she's smacking him with that flower screams NLP. We've seen her use it on Eliot, Keller, and various other people all season (and also Nate's used it on people before s3, but that's less relevant here).

We also know canonically he's the one person she can't con. He can always see through it, even if he doesn't know exactly what she is up to. So there's no real brainwashing at stake here. These are just two people who have serious baggage around communication, who have worked with their new partner dynamic all season, and who are looking at how the major threat of their lives for the past six months is gone. And they're telling each other, in their weird sideways communication manner, that they're open to knocking boots. 🤣

As of The Inside Job, they've communicated that the ball is in her court. And now, he's worked off the slap. She's ready to let him in because he's not only proved himself to her but also to the team (He asked them for consent to go after Moreau! He said please! In the Christmas episode, he apologized to them! He and Sophie split Christmas present duty this year!). But as we'll see next season, it's still so hard for them to talk about things directly.

So what does she do? She presents him with just a little bit less than what she (everyone) knows he wants (she actually will continue to do this all the way through s4, walking out halfway and prompting him to go the rest of the way himself). Their old dynamic didn't work. But this new dynamic, where they're equal partners and friends, that's what she's good with, right? That's what's working for them, right?

And what does Nate do? He latches onto the "partners" more than the "friends" (though they are friends - this is so important). He asks her for a "friendly drink" which escalates. But she's already told him that she's open to it, you feel?

And just in case anyone is curious, we know that the timing of the NLP suggestion matters, so here's where she hits him with the flower

"eggs"

"omelette"

right before she says "You're a bad influence"

Well, when's the last time they talked about their romantic potential in a way that wasn't about Nate trying to figure out her name? They had a little bit of flirting in The Morning After Job, but before that, it was in The Inside Job, right?

Sophie: I should have had you cook me breakfast a long time ago.

Look, I'm not saying it was intentional on the writers' part. I'm just saying it's really, really interesting. Because you know neither Nate nor Sophie has forgotten about a conversation like that.

I'm just saying that both of them knew exactly what they were walking into. She asked and he answered, but only after he was the first one to broach the subject of them after he got out of prison. They were a little freaked out about getting involved (which is why they were drinking so heavily) but not enough to not do it.

Bonus Tidbits from My Watch (I'm sure I'm not the first person to say any of this, but I want it on my blog somewhere)

Sophie and Nate are the most dramatic goth mfs like...the first time they almost kissed was in a graveyard, after Sophie had faked her death and laid the construct of Sophie to rest.

(Their first kiss gets reserved for when both of them have come to terms with who they are now - Nate as a thief, Sophie as a person with a past who chooses and owns her present)

The first time they hook up is also after Sophie's faked her death LMAOOO

Something something shedding old skin and rising from the ashes

We also get the first whispers of Leverage International. "We didn't just con something. We built something," says Sophie. Neither she nor Nate are going to forget that feeling for a long time.

[neonovember]

Coming in HOT with some ANGST and FLUFF, having SUCH an intense emotional fight with Carmen one night. Maybe you’re both arguing about the opening of The Bear or finances or even just with communication in your relationship, Carmen just snaps about how you weren’t always this hostile. Just losing it on him and in tears crying out “YOU LEFT!! YOU LEFT ME CARMEN!! I understand what happened with you and your brother, but you just fucking left and didn’t even say goodbye!! You know how AWFUL that made me feel?! Like all of a sudden after everything we’d been through! It was like suddenly I was another face you just cut out and forgot about. It took me MONTHS to stop even just thinking about you. And then when you came back? It was as if nothing happened, but I was SO happy you were back….and now you always act like I’m some inconvenience that’s always in the way!!!! So what do you WANT Carmen?! Do you want me to stay or is this another New York situation?”. You can see Carmen’s heart shattering in his face as he just crumbles at the end begging for forgiveness 🥲. It ends maybe with the both of you holding each other in the kitchen “I’m so sorry” “No no….it’s okay….I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that…”

All for you

part two

this request was so good! your brain anon..😍 i hope i did it justice, this is part one of two because i always seem to be extending things that should be a one shot! i'm thinking part two should be from carm's pov? what do you guys think??

warnings: shouting, self deprecation, angst to the tenth power, no happy endings, carmen is so so so bad at communicating, unresolved tension/anger, new york carmy!

Loving Carmen was a lot of things. 

It was the smoulder of colours brushed onto a canvas, it was the crash of waves in the middle of the pacific, fighting and thrashing against each other until it took you under and below. It was the spoonful of honey that eased the bitterness, it was beyond your control. A love so smouldering and bright that you didn't quite know if your heart could fit it all.

But it was also difficult, like dragging a 50 pound steel anchor every way you went. You were forever grateful to have Carmen in your life, again at least, but it wasn’t exactly like the things that he had struggled with before he wasn't struggling with even more now. 

You were patient, you tried to be at least. When he wouldn’t pick up your calls for hours, when he was so caught up with work he forgot to eat, when he was so caught up with work all the last of his energy was spent on you and not himself.

You loved Carmen too hard to let him destroy himself for his work, even if he hated you for it, you couldn't watch him crumble and break from the stress of the restaurant and the overwhelming pressure he put on himself. 

Especially when you saw him begin to unravel before you, melting hot wax crackling and setting form. He had begun to throw back bottles of pepto like it was water, crunching on tums like popcorn any chance he got, and it wasn't like the restaurant was doing bad, in fact it was doing amazing. Yet, it was that fact alone that made Carmen get worse, made him slip into the sinking black hole that told him one moment away from the shop, one glance off of his work and it would crumble into ash.

You had seen this in New York, where he would call you during the depths of the night, the sound of his stuttered sobs breaking any resolve you had left. You had raced to throw on a jacket and bring a pot of soup to his place even when he protested. You fed him whilst he shook against you, you whispered stories until he fell asleep, you kissed his curls.

You wondered if he knew.

You find yourself doing the same thing now, like an endless dance you both are bound to, every rational part of you wants to hate it but you can't deny the way your heart shimmers in want. Your mind moves with the familiarity of it, chasing after him like a game of cat and mouse.

Only this time you live with Carmen and not in a dingy shoebox in New York holding back every ounce of love you wanted to pour into him. 

Carmen’s mind was forever connected to food, it was something so automatic it fell unconscious under his skin. You found amusement in the way he’d stand in the middle of your apartment living room in quick critic over the late night cooking shows that you would turn on whilst waiting for him to come home, or the coffee around the corner he swears isn’t actual beans. 

But your soup, and anything else you made was something he had always reserved with a certain adoration. He’d whisper into the anonymity of your neck under the covers, recounting how your food was akin to a warm hug, coming home to the smell of cookies and a house of laughter and light he wished he had growing up.  

You hoped he had actually eaten something today, but it was that belief that evaded your mind as quickly as it came when you reminded yourself who Carmen was. It was push and pull, and you would be damned if he didn't finish your food and then some.

Your job allowed you to work from home, and you don’t know if it was your laziness or intelligence that enabled you to make it so that you only had to work a couple hours in the day. It was sometimes strange to Carmen, how you could be able to find love and creation in something without putting everything into it.

Carmen was always watching you, he found peace in it, the moves and motions of you all over the apartment, the scent of your body wash, you toothbrush next to his, you were a movie right in front of him and he would watch you for eternity if he could.

You turn into the back of the Bear, parking between the faded white lines before turning off the engine and staying in the car for a moment. You hated the cold, and your breath had already begun to blow out misty clouds every time you exhaled. Collecting the warm container of soup and a sandwich you quickly jog towards the restaurant, taking the back door when you notice Manny leaving.

“Hey Hun, how ya doing” Manny nods towards you with a warm smile

“Hey Manny, just coming to get Carmen to eat something other than tums” 

“Chef is definitely wound tight, mix up on a new delivery of some kind of fruit? Forgot the name.. It's spiky and smells like when we moved out those ovens and found those burnt onions and stock stuck to the floor” Manny replies with a wince as you both recall the devastating smell that hadn’t left your nostrils in weeks during the renovation.

“Uh, Durian?” You reply and Manny clicks his fingers at your reply.

“That's it. That mind of yours is really something. He hasn’t taken a break since the morning, but you always have a way with him” Manny raises his eyebrows and you shake your head with a laugh

You only remember that particular fruit because Carmen had been obsessing over a new menu item that included it as its main component. He had spent sleepless nights perfecting it, despite it being utterly magnificent the first try. You couldn’t shake him from his work, it could consume him for months if he let it, and you feared he was at the precipice of falling into that hole once again.

You walk through the back hallway leading up to the main kitchen, passing by the tired hunches of the shoulder dressed down in crisp white shirts and aprons. The Bear had a late start today, Sydney suggested opening a little later for a full dinner menu rather than lunch as well and the turn out had shocked you all.

It also meant Carmen came home even later than he already did during those nights, you’ve had to damn near carry him to the bath to get him to not drop dead the second he came home. You didn’t mind however, you couldn't deny the faint thrum of your heart content as you washed Carmen’s hair whilst he lay against you half asleep. 

You spot Sydney at her station, and you quickly walk over to see her prepping for dinner, the swoop of her knife cutting into red meat in a kind of curve you knew she had perfected over the years.

“Hey Syd, early start?” You say, once your side by side with her

“Oh don’t remind me, can you believe the L got backed up from all the ice last night? Added a whole 45 minutes to my commute” Sydney groans out, shaking her head as she turns to you. Grateful to have a reprieve from her repetitive cutting.

“Goddam Chicago, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve got a bottle of wine with your name on it in my fridge and it is dying to be opened and shared by two very, very tired women” You reply, smiling at the way Sydney raises her eyebrows gleefully at the thought.

“I am holding you to that, as soon as we get through today. God, this new dish Carmen has thought up is kicking my ass” Sydney replies, and your ears chirp at the mention of the man you’ve been looking for.

“Speaking of Carmen, have you seen him?” 

“Yeah, I think he’s still in the office, been on call with one of our vendors cause of the mix up with the--”

“Durian, yeah. Thanks Syd” You reply, giving her a nod before making your way to the hallway leading into the office.

You hear Carmen before you see him, the sound of his loud voice seeping through the cracks of the door. His voice rises as he gets more and more agitated, and you don’t miss the sound of a cup being thrown against the wall as the phone call continues, not waiting a moment before firing back muffled words you can hardly make out except

“Unprofessional” “waste of my time” “fuckin’ dick”

So yeah, you thought it was definitely a good time to walk in and get your extremely agitated boyfriend to eat your soup.

Just as you walk through the door, you see Carmen slam the phone back onto the receiver, shouting out obscenities at the object as he throws his chair back onto the floor. Years working together has made you unfazed by his outbursts of anger, though you have been sly in trying to get him to go to therapy so that he doesn't get an aneurysm over the phone with the Wifi company or something hilariously trivial.

“Hey Carm” You say, whilst closing the door, and Carmen look up at you in surprise, his features sobering, as his eyes relax into a comforting gaze.

“Ah shit, sorry bout that, just some stubborn, pig headed vendors who don’t want to fix a problem they fucking caused” Carmen replies, his chest rising rapidly as he takes sharp inhales of oxygen. 

He turns to face you and you take in the sunken look of his cheeks, the skin a little discoloured like he was sick, and his hair dishevelled and falling flat against his face like he's run his hand through it too many times.

“Jesus Carmen, have you gotten any sleep?” You reply, instantly as you make your way over to him, pressing a hand on his shoulder.

Carmen shudders against your touch, shaking his head as he leans back and away from you. You stumble as you look down at your hand now inches away from his shoulder in confusion. Carmen never turned you away from him, in fact during those unforgiving times of anxiety and anguish, when he felt the entire sky falling, you would be his anchor to bring him back.

The fact that he had visibly shuddered when you touched him made your heart ache, and it hurts even more when Carmen notices, the guilt spilling into him.

“Just been so busy” Carmen replies, his eyes darting everywhere but you, as you nod with a tight smile, backing away from him.

You reach for the soup you've left on the edge, placing it on the desk and you nod to it

“Have you eaten today?” You reply and Carmen stops watching you, blinking slowly as he tries to remember the last time he's actually consumed something, before coming up empty and shaking his head up at you with a groan.

“I thought so, you need to eat Carmen, how can you expect to function let alone run a restaurant if you aren't at your optimal level” You reason, leaning against the table, with your arms crossed against your chest.

“It’s fine, I was just gonna grab something small” Carmen waves you off

“Actually, I brought you food right now so I think it would be a perfect time-

“Is that why you came? To micromanage me like some toddler” Carmen suddenly replies, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you through half lidded eyes.

“I- what? I didn’t-”

“I can run my restaurant blindfolded with my arms tied behind my back, alright? I don’t need you to come and patronise me like you know every goddamn thing” Carmen spits out, and you can't help the way your blood runs hot, the rhythmic beat of anger pounding through you like a hammer.

How fucking dare he

“Excuse me? I came here for you Carmen, not some self-righteous moment to say I'm better than you. God damnit, is that what you think? I came here to make sure you didn't faint and fall into a pot of boiling hot water” You spit out, Carmen looks up at you, hes blues swimming in ire as he lets a humour-less laugh rumble through his chest.

You felt all the things you had kept a lid on begin to tumble out of your mouth, and soon you’re anger morphed into a building current. The flashes of everything that had gone wrong, the lack of communication, the coming home late, it all has begun to accumulate rapidly and you let it consume you in its entirety. 

“Sure, of course,” Carmen sings. “I’m not your fucking child alright? You are my goddamn mother so stop treating me like you need to make sure I eat 3 times a day and have my nightly bath. I’m a grown man-”

“Then ACT LIKE IT!”

Carmen looks up at you in surprise, his brows knitting as his head swivels back from your outburst. You had never screamed at him, in fact, Carmen can’t remember a time where you had screamed at anyone like you did now as you stare him down deviantly. Eyes burning with a fiery anger that begged to be stoked. Carmen knows this, your hands shake in tight fists like your seconds away from swiping him, and he resorts back to his usual self destruction of turning back and running away. 

“Yeah, yeah that's right, walk away, walk away like you always do. Carmen, soon enough you're going to have to face it you know? You’re gonna have to face your fucking issues before it destroys us both” You scream, and Carmen pauses, causing you to stumble. Carmen turns around to face you in the middle of the hallway, the rush of anger present on his cheeks, causing the veins to bulge out on his neck and he looms over you

“Issues, I have fucking issues? You’re screaming at me because of goddamn soup”

“It’s more than fucking SOUP!” The screech of your voice bounced across the thin walls of the restaurant hallway, your throat begins to burn as you begin to swallow down the emotion bubbling within you. You want to reach into him and rattle his neck, force him to see the destructive path he was taking, force him to do anything but turn away and shut you out.

A quiet trepidation falls over the entire kitchen as they watch you both fight, it was unheard of, an anomaly that seemed wrong, like someone had gotten a couple from the street and put your faces on it.

Watching you both fight was like watching a performance. The way you both leaned into each other menacingly, neither of you backing down, there was an indefinite energy that bubbled between you both, you were seconds away from shocking each other or making out. 

“What is it then huh? Why are you acting like this? You expect me to read your goddamn mind? You’ve changed alright? Everyone can see it, I can't even recognise the person in front of me half the time” Carmen sneers, his neck turning a crimson red as he clenches his jaw painfully. He’s holding himself back, his body shakes with it, the tight clenches of his fist stopping him from putting a hole in the wall or smashing a chair.

“I’ve changed? Me?” You cut yourself off with a chuckle, Carmen shifted his gaze as his eyebrows knot in confusion, and when you catch a glimpse of his face you can’t help the booming sound from crawling up your throat, keening over as the sick sound of laughter rocks through your body.

The rest of the team now watches on in horror, you were laughing, why are you fucking laughing?

You try and gulp down the uncontrollable fit of laughter, you can practically feel your body shift down into the jagged memories from all those years ago. From a place and time you had shuffled into a no named cabinet and thrown into the deepest depths of the ocean. 

You didn’t want to remember, you begged your mind to forget, but as your laughter slips into sharp inhales, you already can taste the wetness streaming down your cheeks, and slithering down the slope of your neck.

Your sob’s rack through you, winding you until you hunched over, reaching out onto the wall to steady yourself and trying to find footing as the ground caves beneath you.

Carmen recognises it in an instant, taking a tentative step forward, raising his arms before dropping them in a second, like he was approaching a volatile animal.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I-” Carmen starts, but you’ve already raised yourself from your hunched position, the tears dripping into the linoleum floors and splashing onto your combat boots.

You didn’t want to face that time in your life again, but Carmen has practically forced you too, and there's no way in hell you weren’t going to drag him down into that bordered off well. Fuck being the bigger person.

“No no, you spoke, this is my fucking turn now” You grunt out, the rippling grief leaving your body in a flash as you sneer over him.

Carmen gulps back a retort, his mind re-circuiting, trying to figure out your polar behaviour. Carmen knew better to interrupt you now, in fact the restaurants was a pin drop quiet, safe for the whooshing sound of the central air corn, and the sound of Carmen's stuttering inhales.

“YOU listen to me” You spit, pointing a finger, pressing it into Carmen's chest so hard he stumbles back

“You fucking left me Carmen. You! You- just, you dropped everything we had, everything we ever built in New York and you disappeared. And it was Mickey, and you needed to be there and I got that, I get that, but you- you just left me there.” You grunt, biting back the swell of emotion that erupted when you thought about those years ago. 

“You became a ghost, and god,- you could have told me, after everything I thought we had- you could've told me! But then you didn't. And I was left to pick up the pieces, wondering if you had ever loved me, wondering if I should have given half of myself to you whilst you couldn't even call me back” You stutter out, shocking back the onslaught of tears as you swallow around the lump in your throat.

Carmen’s face pales as he registers those years ago in New York, the immediate look of guilt and anguish twisting his features as he leans onto the wall for support.

Even after all these years, all this time, you still felt it like it was yesterday. All your work had become undone, the thin veil of healing had been stripped back to bare bones in an instant, and you hate it, you hate it so much. Why couldn’t you have packed up and moved on? Why did you have to fold back into yourself at those memories? You don't know what you're seeking now, vengeance, restitution, it all becomes blurred in the heat of it, and god have you wanted to strip your skin and wake up restored since that night.

“You ruined me for a year Carmen. I was a shell of myself because of you. And then you called me that afternoon and you know what? I wanted to throw my phone into the fucking Hudson. I wanted to rip my hair out and scream and hurt you like you hurt me because the truth was I already forgiven you before you even apologised. And you never did. And I still wanted to come back to Chicago for you.” 

“Honey-” Carmen's strained voice shudders at your words, and you can make out the red of his eyelids, the tears collecting at his lids.

You hold up a hand, stopping Carmen from speaking, tears begin to form at your waterline, threatening to break, your vision blurs, the features of Carmen’s tormented face becoming wobbly and undefined. 

You were so sick of crying, you were so sick of it.

“And I won’t ever make you keep paying for a mistake for the rest of your life, I let go of that anger because you needed my help and in some way, I fell in love with you all over again, I was able to make peace with it.” 

“But you don't think I know you Carmen? When you overwork yourself to death you can barely eat? When you get bad again at calling me? When you were good, you were the best person in my entire world, but when you're like this?” You shake your head into the empty space between you, hands waving in front of you. 

Carmen looks torn apart, his hair falling flat against his forehead, his hands in tight fists as he shakes his head against your words. Begging, on his knees, begging for you to stop, to stop saying those things that came from your mouth that were not true. His body shakes with it, the gushing feeling of guilt, it washes over him in waves.

His mind is going a mile a minute, every thought of work, of that mismatched order he had to deal with, of the vendor who refused to deliver, it all went out the window the second your face contorted in that heart aching way. He can't lose you, every fiber in his being yearned for you, he lived for you. And here he was losing you, like a brush of paint across a canvas.

You were slipping from him every second you stood there with tears dripping down your cheeks like a stream.

“You’re the one that's changed. You're the one who's always changing. Don’t throw it back at me just because you can’t see it” You mutter with a shake of your head. Your voice carries a finality with it, and you jerk from Carmen when he takes a step towards you. You can't breathe in here, and you pass by the concerned gases of the rest of the Bear, shaking your head and moving away from Sydney, before dipping back into the busy streets of Chicago. You bite your tongue the entire way until the taste of copper fills your mouth.

Folding yourself into the huddled waves of mundanity, leaving your soup and the last bit of your aching heart on the bench of Carmen's office.

[llamaisllama777]

THE WEEKLY*/DAILY* TSAMS, FEMNAF, EAPS SHOW!!!!

Let's get on with the show!

Sun and Moon are FINALLY in the new dimension! This place seems chill (so far). Sun and Moon have their own diner now, and I shall call dub it....

The SunShiner Diner

-Sun is the mascot of the joint

-Jack has his own cove. I shall dub "Jack's pumpkin cove"

-Molten runs the prize counter

-Solar does whatever

-Monty cooks

-and Moon is manager

This could go super well... or super bad.

They aren't even open yet, and they are already BLEEDING money. They need to start making money YESTERDAY! They may get their own animatronics, which would be interesting to see.

Let's hope they can keep the business open, not do anything illegal and avoid money problems.

Onto the Fem's

Okay, if you aren't caught up let's just say the Fem universe's Fazbear is FAR MORE POWERFUL AND FAR MORE EVIL THAN TSAMS' FAZBEAR!

They literally stripped Roxas naked. (They scrapped off the paint on his legs for some reason? Pretty sure that counts as assault)

Fazbear has kidnapped Roxas and is trying to find the 'flaw' in his code or programming a.k.a. cause he's trans... that feels a little too real.

Like TSBS has dealt with real issues before, but this, right now, in this time, that's crazy.

Roxas ends up getting rescued by CHICO! My bird boy! This dude had like 5 minutes of screen time, clocked (/possibly killed all the guards), and rescued his friend.

That's a good friend right there, mate!

But now Fazbear wants ALL their heads. So, if Fazbear wants to play dirty, the animatronics are gonna play dirty.

They plan to leak all of Fazbear's illegal doings to destroy them or at least distract them. If they do end up bankruptcy, Fazbear, I suggest they all go work for Luna and Earth/Teran

(The Lunar and Earth of this world.)

I would like to suggest that Eleanor should leak the footage of Fazbear taking Roxas cause he "Is affecting their brand" and let the LGBTQ+ community tear them apart.

Please, Eleanor, please do this! BURN THAT COMPANY TO THE ASHES!

And lastly...

Oh, this is gonna be an issue, ain't it.

Okay, Ruin is safe, but his Monty (Rusty) got away, and him and Solar Flare got into little argument about what to do with Rusty. Ruin obviously wants to save him, but Solar Flare's prime directive is to protect everyone and eliminate targets... which includes Rusty.

So, I have a feeling this may turn into something. Eclipse would definitely be on the side of "I don't care if he lives or dies as long as he's not a threat"

I'm very curious and concerned what Afton/Stitchtrap/Stitchton is up to? What is his endgame with the portal and the ruin virus?

I'm so excited to see what Tsams will do next, and what will happen in Femme nights at Freddy's?

These episodes are amazing! Keep it up guys!

12/10 MAN, WERE THESE SOME AWESOME EPISODES!

[kittenfangirl20]

Lilo and Stitch Au

⚠️This Story will deal with mental health issues such as depression and suicidal thoughts and drug use ⚠️

Adam sighed as he came home from work, his home cold and empty. He threw his keys down and grabbed his pack of smokes and went out on his patio to have a cigarette.

He loves his job, his own gardening business but coming home to no one? Not even his kids, Eve and Lilith had his kids and his missed them so much.

Adam set his smoke in the ash tray for a moment and clasped his hands together. It's been so long since he's ever prayed but it couldn't hurt to try.

Adam: God, it's me Adam. I know I haven't done this in a while but I'm so lonely. I know you probably have bigger fish to fry than me but a companion, not necessarily a romantic one would be nice to have. Someone kind, who will be good to me........ I'm not sure how much more I can take.

He picked up his smoke and finished it before going to bed, he felt so silly even trying to ask for something like that.

Especially when he didn't deserve it.

Up in Heaven, Lucifer, the angel of Light and Creativity was being scolded by the Queen of Heaven Sera. These people were so stiff all the time it's like they can't take a joke.

Sera: You can't keep doing things like this Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why not? Nothing bad happened.

Sera narrowed her eyes: Winners got hurt.

Lucifer: So?

Sera: So, this is Heaven not Hell winners shouldn't be getting hurt. I know you aren't fond of humans-

Lucifer scoffed and rolled his eyes, not being fond of humans was an understatement. He hates humans.

Sera: But you have to stop!

A golden scroll appeared in front of her, those ones came from God himself. She read it over and came up with an idea.

Sera: Since you want to behave like a brat you'll be punished like one. We are going to send you to Earth to help a human soul in need. And you'll only be at half power.

Lucifer: What the fuck Sera!?

Sera glared: Should you fail and this human dies and their soul goes to Hell, you will go with them.

Lucifer couldn’t believe it, he was being sent to Earth to help some human. Humans were a failure, they brought about things like war, racism, sexism, homophobia, and genocide. To make matters worse some of them even used God to justify these horrific things. But before he could object any further, the ground opened up beneath him and he fell. He fell until he hit the ground. He looked around and saw that he was on the Kamehameha Highway.

Lucifer internally: Great I am in Hawaii.

Before he could do anything else he was hit by an 18 wheeler which sent him practically flying across the highway. Thankfully it couldn’t kill him even if at half his strength and power. He got up and stumbled off the highway and he found himself at Adam’s front yard. Since he no longer had his wings, he couldn’t fly away. While he couldn’t die from that, being still hurt like a bitch and he passed out. In the morning Adam walked and saw someone passed out on the ground. He wore white, light blue, and gold robes. Before he could try to help him he got up. His skin was white making Adam wonder if the man was an albino. He had bright red circles on his cheeks, hair that looked it was made of threads of gold, and piercing blue eyes.

Lucifer: Human, what is your name?

Adam: Human? My name is Adam Kadmon.

Hearing the name told Lucifer that this human was the one that Lucifer was forced to help.

Lucifer: Adam Kadmon, the human I am Lucifer Morningstar. Be not afraid, for I am angel sent from Heaven to help you.

Adam: If you are an angel where are your wings?

Lucifer: They were taken from me because my pranks had harmed some Winners. So I was sent to Earth to help you because you prayed for help.

Adam: So I pray to God for a companion and I become community service to get an angel back to Heaven? That sounds about right.

Adam know whether to believe Lucifer or not, but it looked like he was stuck with him.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[angofwords]

hello. Don't know if this feels weird..

Based on the post you reblogged about villains, would you expand on Dino Golzine from banana fish? Where does all the actions of his come from?

Hello! Thanks for such a great question!!

I've actually been intending to write an essay about Dino Golzine for YEARS, so thank you for giving me the excuse to get to it. <3

Because you referenced the post about villains, I figure I'll take each of that OP's observations point by point and apply my thoughts about Dino. Bear with me, because this might be long. Also, it should be emphasized that I DON'T, IN ANY WAY, SUPPORT DINO. This essay might sound sympathetic in places, but it is not. I'm just trying to look at things from his point of view.

"They Should Believe They're the Hero of Their Own Story"

Dino Golzine may not believe he's a hero in a traditional way--he knows he's committing crimes, but I don't think he necessarily thinks that he's wrong. What do I mean? Think about any real-life mob boss. They're the head of a business organization. A family business, at that. He doesn't have family in the traditional sense, but he's got everyone calling him "Papa," so I'm sure he imagines that his staff are some kind of found family where he's the patriarch. It's a warm feeling, knowing that people look up to you, that they rely on you for their livelihoods.

Sure, his business is on the wrong side of the law, but that's just semantics--what are laws but rules set in place by other men? If Golzine's work is an asset to the community--he provides people with things they want (drugs and sex) and undoubtedly funds plenty of political campaigns and public works--then surely something as petty as law shouldn't matter. Sure, his sex business is a bit niche, but there's clearly demand, right? He's making cash hand-over-fist, so he's filling what would otherwise be a void in the market. If he didn't sell cocaine and boys, someone else surely would, so it's not like these boys would have a better life if he obeyed the law.

Hero or not is debatable, but the fact is, Dino is successful. He's strong. He's respected. These are the only heroic qualities that interest him.

"Give Them a Personal Code of Ethics (Even if Twisted)"

Yeah, Dino's code is absolutely twisted, but you can see that he has one. First of all, it's clear that he values decorum. He doesn't like it when Ash is dirty or rowdy or uses bad language. He doesn't like it when things happen that make him look bad (like when the head of the Corsican group decides to replace him because Ash has made a fool out of him). These aren't quite ethics, but they are a standard of conduct. Golzine has a reputation to uphold, after all.

Until he gets angry, Dino tends to be respectful with his peers (the senators, Foxx, Blanca) and even those he thinks are a bit beneath him (Dr Mannerheim). You might ask about the boys at Club Cod, about Ash himself. How is that ethical? Frankly, I'm not sure he considers those boys as human beings. It's like what Ash said, he treated him like a doll, that it never occurred to him that he had feelings.

I think that changes over time, in regards to Ash. Once Ash is his assassin, he develops some level of respect for him--at least enough to see him as a human being. Dino's respect for strength and skill is obvious. I suspect it was Ash's determination not to break at Club Cod (as well as his beautiful face) that inspired Golzine to pull him out, to keep him as his own. And even when Ash became willful and unmanageable, Golzine never killed him (though he threatened a lot), instead giving him an expensive education.

He doesn't let Ash get dosed with banana fish in the mental health facility. He also doesn't let Foxx kill him. We can argue motivation for those actions, but it seems his sense of ethics are a bit warped around Ash. Whether he's protecting him or he wants to destroy Ash himself (I honestly think it's the former), there seems to be line there that he won't let anyone cross.

Also, he fulfills his obligations to Yut Lung. They made a deal and Golzine stands by his end of it, killing his brothers for him. As a businessman, Golzine can honor a contract.

So, while this isn't quite an ethical compass, it's that same kind of structure. Golzine rewards the traits he values, and he probably really thought he was elevating Ash into someone respectable.

"Their Motivation Should be Relatable (Even if Their Actions Aren't)"

Okay, so here's where Dino fails for me. I simply can't relate to the smooth running of a criminal empire, and I doubt most of the readers can, either. I guess it's understandable that he'd want to develop banana fish for the pure profit of it. Still, his motivation being almost 100% financial is a bit gross.

However, if you bear in mind that this manga was written in the 1980s, when "Greed is Good" was a literal bumper sticker slogan, that might be enough to fulfil this particular rule. The '80s were a very different time, ideologically. Being a cutthroat businessman wasn't really considered a character flaw yet.

Also, as far as motivations go, it's understandable that he'd want Ash to take over for him, as he has no heir (and I suspect he'd be grossed out trying to get one the traditional way) and the whole point of this sort of organization is to keep it in the family. I honestly believe that, if he put all the "good" he did for Ash (luxuries, food, nice clothes, a well-rounded education, "rescuing" him from Club Cod) on one end of a scale and the bad stuff (rapey things, mostly, because I'm sure he felt that making Ash into a killer was a good thing) on the other side, Dino probably thought that Ash should've been grateful. I know, it's horribly disgusting, but seriously, that's the only read I can get on him.

"Make Them Competent (Nothing's Scarier Than a Villain Who Actually Wins)"

I don't think this one takes much thought. Dino is scary as fuck. In the beginning of the series, Ash is cocky around him. He's rude and disrespectful and it's beautiful. But I think that's all for show, like the way a teenager might push his dad, but that doesn't mean he really thinks he could take him. Golzine scares the shit out of Ash. All those years, and Ash never left New York? He could get on a bus and make a new life in Chicago or California, but he doesn't. I assume this is because he knows how Golzine would react. He doesn't spend the whole series trying to break free from a guy like this if it wasn't hard as hell to actually do it.

Golzine orchestrates so much truly heinous shit, like the whole situation surrounding Shorter's death. He's quick to punish Ash for rebelling, like when he lets him think he's going to let Mannerheim dose him with banana fish, and when Ash consistently gets the better of him, he uses his resources to hire someone who really can punish him (Blanca and then Foxx). He's relentless, and that's terrifying.

"Don't Forget Their Human Side--What Do They Love? What Are They Afraid Of?"

Dino doesn't seem to be afraid of much, but he's afraid of failure. When Corsica tried to have him replaced, he floundered for a minute. He rallied, of course, and got his position back (partly by murdering the guy who was sent in to replace him), but it was touch-and-go for a minute there. His impotent rage was rather humanizing.

What does he love? I'm going to start with the less-controversial things--he loves order, and luxury. He loves power. He has cats--not an easy pet for people who need obedience, so I assume he has a soft spot for them, too. He loves to hob-nob with powerful men.

Now, for the more controversial. I honestly think he loves Ash. Not in any way that is normal or healthy or even recognizable to most people, but I do think it's love, in the only way Dino knows how to love. He treasures Ash as something he's created, something he owns. It's narcissistic and gross, but I think that Ash is the only person on earth that Golzine wants near him. He reiterates over and over that he owns Ash, even goes as far as saying he'll make a "good wife" out of him. Dino wants Ash in his life forever. Ash is literally his favorite thing.

Before I get attacked for this--OBVIOUSLY Ash deserves more than that. It's insulting and disgusting and horrible to think that any person should be forced to live the way Ash has lived with Golzine, especially under the guise of "love." But Ash is the only humanizing influence on Dino, even if all we see is negative emotions. Ash is able to push Dino's buttons, making him alternately blind with rage and furious with envy. But imagine how soft he might get if Ash tried, even for a second, to be nice to him. I think Ash could have Golzine eating out of his hand, if he wanted. (But obviously, Ash is far too traumatized and terrified of this man to even see this as an option, which is ultimately better for Ash, because such a path would undoubtably corrupt him).

Dino Golzine works because he's larger than life. Not only does he wield an enormous amount of power, he has power over Ash. Ash is a god in this manga--he's the prettiest, smartest, most talented, most capable boy who ever lived--and yet, Dino Golzine has made him desperate enough that he's willing to climb on top of a badly-veering truck for a chance to finally kill him. That's a terrible plan and he knows it, but at that moment, it's all he has, so he goes for it. Dino is a classic, well-constructed villain who gets the work done basically every time he's on the page.

Think about why the fandom hates Foxx--he's an evil caricature and he adds no depth at all to the story. Compare that to Dino Golzine--we hate him because he feels real.

[random-non-shower-thoughts]

I'm sick of writers constantly complaining about how hard writing is and how they have to suffer for the craft and how you need to struggle to make it good. I find it so annoying

You are not being quirky or funny to beginning authors and writers, all you are doing is telling them that if they didn't bleed their soul on to the page it's shit and they should feel like shit. I fucking listened to this kind of mindset for years and spewed it to those around me. I was pretentious and told others this mindset was the only one and did nothing because I knew my writing was obviously a joke and not worth reading. Because that's what everyone else said. I didn't bleed, I was having fun. You had to crawl through hell and burn the first draft to spit on the ashes. I wasn't ready to publish because I was enjoying walking my little book babies across the page and doing what they wanted. The little characters knew what they wanted, so I had to rewrite and wrangle them in later. The couldn't just run around like the little ones they were.

And I was right, I wasn't ready. Not because of them, but because I kept swallowing the same slop about how writing is hard and that a first draft had to be shit. I rewrote my first baby and it suffered. I tried to fix it like all the others said, and killed that entire series. Four books, hundreds of thousands of words. DEAD. I will likely never touch them despite all I did to tell a compelling story with characters that were fun, interesting, and well-researched to represent multiple groups. I cannot get that spark back because I was convinced it was wrong. I never tasted enough bile by the nice first draft that was good enough for myself. RIGHT NOW. IT WAS ONLY WHAT I COULD DO NOW.

I legit gave up on ever publishing anything and convinced myself to just make it shit so maybe I could crawl out of the mud and build from scratch. It's what my professor did, and she was years into a book she still wasn't happy with. She insisted she knew the way to publish and we should do the same. How she struggles with typing and making notes for the next draft, how the next one would be better after a rewrite. I had to do the same. It was the only way...

I am so thankful that I did some research after that and found myself falling down a rabbit hole. I wasn't really ready to fully accept the mantra from my professor. Her words never sat right with me, and those who listened without question were quite frankly, too snobbish about white men making badly written black women and all showing zero energy around first drafts--good or bad. I had to get a new perspective. The itch to see more called me to find answers. I was off put by the way they worked like it was an obligation, not art.

And I found it with a group of authors far older and more experienced than myself in a writing blog. Not just the creator held a set of different beliefs and the entire community was excited to share entire books worth of advice for free online, including the author posting (physical copies cost money, but despite running a business, the information was so freely given). And I think the three most important pieces of advice I ever got from them and changed my life were:

Quality will always equal quality. There's is almost no other art form that I have seen talk less about this mindset. Compared to say, drawing, where they go in opposite direction and it's one of the most encouraged aspects of it. I do not see this as much in writing, unless you are boasting bad/shit drafts. This is not what this advice is talking about. This was explained to mean everything from first draft to publishing, the entire process. To go all the way with works put out there that might not be what you first imagined but can say was done. Get that stroy done and put out there so you can move on and learn from previous mistakes and lessons.

You can write a clean first draft. I mean this, throw away the idea what you have done in a moment of happiness or in a frenzy is inherently bad or flawed or needs to be scrapped for the second draft because you obviously need to fix it. It was pointed out that this was a new idea and absolutely a bad thing when you had limited resources and time (pulp fiction, times when you had to make your own supplies, you were not allowed access to better technology). Now that we have electronic word processers, it is now a thing to shit on a first draft because you technically can. But why? Why should you have to throw out your level of quality and care because you are putting your first words to the page. It will never be as good as what you write tomorrow, but that's because you have learned and practiced today. And if you start with shit, your entire foundation is. Show you care about what you write, and much like a house, if what you use for the base is good, the entire thing will have a better leg to stand on. Bricks can be replaced, the swamp you placed them on is going to be much harder.

Do not listen to the inner critic until the editing phase. You know that voice telling you something is off when you are using an editor? The one that sounds like a serious adult and points out all that needs fixing? It has its place, but never on the first draft. Embrace the three year old that is playing with the blocks and says why to everything, that embraces the absolute batshit ideas that whisper to you like a infatuated lover. This is all you should listen too (outlines can be a great guide, but who says you have to follow everything?) Treat the true muse, this fun writing voice, no different than a caregiver would with a child/pet playing at the park, and let it run wild. You can patch up bruises and cuts. You cannot take back telling them NO in a fit of anger. The muse is no different.

And honestly, after reading this, my life changed so much. It made me realize that while I am not where I want to be, I loved what I created in the meantime. I wanted to hold the hands of ideas pulling my sleeve. I wanted to go on an adventure and say, "Yeah, let's go! What should we see today? What monster is waiting for us to discover?"

I literally felt a joy and wrote again. Not right away (depression is a loving embrace and the softest of kissers) but I had not felt such love for myself since before I gave up. I found a character I had not let get tainted my poisoned mind and I treated them like they deserved (and realized some things about myself exploring their minds). Such a love was waiting to be found when I learned they wanted something bigger and pulled me into a new bigger world. I didn't need a novel writing month event to create more than 50k. I didn't care, I wanted them to find their loves and pain, victory and lessons learned. They helped me explore viewpoints outside myself (and throw away some hateful things I harbored about trans women and prostitution from my upbringing).

I bled for sure, but only because I needed to develop the callouses on my fingertips and to lick the blood from my lips as I embraced my muse like a irresistible lover. I found myself in the character I birthed from stardust and an elder god's love of the universe. I learned that if I did this again it would be different, but that's okay. I can go back and read my old works with pride and kind words. I loved what helped me reach this far with a smile and something fun I wanted to read.

I found that if I took a month or a day to pound out a chapter, I was okay. I could sit back and know dealing a closet death and pain was fine, I had something to look forward to when the waters calmed and I was going to be okay again. My muse didn't need me to poke and prod, I could let them slumber with me while my flesh was aching and tears stained my face. I could smoke and drink with my characters and they would be happy to laugh at all the stupid and silly things we can think of. I don't need to suffer when the world is so cold and harsh. It is okay to embrace the warmth of a fire I created in myself.

[dontbelasagnax]

MISSION SUCCESS MUHAHAH I'd take any of the prompts from you really, so how about 21? Wildcard! Dealers choice! My only request is that it's in-universe 😚

(if you can't decide then maybe bloody kiss? I did once say that you writing angst would be the ultimate win for me)

Alright!! I've finally finished this first prompt!! Both of you, @lightasthesun and anon, wanted bloody kiss so here we are. Ann, since you wanted angst, I believe I am delivering that. However. You must know I'm not an angst person so I cried three times while writing this despite knowing it has a happy ending. You will pay somehow.

Pairing: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,851

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, First Kiss, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary:

All things considered, Cody probably should have seen it coming.

[ OR: Cody gets shot off a cliff. This is obviously quite dire. If he's got one chance left to kiss Obi-Wan, he'll take it. ]

(fic under the cut if you wish to read here on tumblr)

All things considered, Cody probably should've seen it coming.

He didn't.

There was a moment, just one, where he looked over his shoulder at his General and their troops. It was oddly peaceful, trudging forward together. He had a passing thought that moments like that were rare.

He was on a cliff. And then he wasn't.

Somewhere amidst the blast, the rush of blood in his ears, the icy lurch of his stomach, and a panicked thought that he really should've worn his jetpack, he heard a shout.

It might have been his own voice. He couldn't be sure.

The fall was rough. His body seemed to find every jutting rock off the side of the cliff to bounce off of. He says bounce. The gravity on this planet is stronger than most. It was more of a solid collision straight down with the weight of his body rolling him off every surface he met until he fell straight through air to what he thinks is the ground.

He blinks rapidly, spots of black dancing across his vision. Breaths come out shallow and laboured and- is it silent? Where's the sound? Is it- there's a high pitched ringing and-

"-ody! Cody!"

The spotty sky is cut by blurs of Obi-Wan. There are lines down- oh. His visor must be shattered. Nevertheless, he doesn't like the expression on his general's face.

"Cody," it's husked out, too harried and somehow gentle at once.

"Sir," Cody tries to say. It comes out raspy and gurgled. His mouth tastes of iron. This isn't good. "Did you-" a cough wracks his body and it's perhaps the most painful moment of his existence, "jump?"

"You know the answer to that."

Against his better judgment, Cody feels compelled to sit up at that. He can't quite pinpoint which part of his body protests most. It all turns into one searing blaze of pain. His vision blurs.

He heaves a great stuttered breath which seems to hurt almost as much.

He knows it's bad.

"The men need you," he tries.

"At the moment you need me more."

"Sir."

"Cody, please."

Cody closes his eyes. Breathes as shallowly as he can. A tear trails down his cheek. He swallows dryly. "Can't move."

"Oh, Cody."

"Can you- helmet?"

There's the hiss of his bucket coming unlatched and then it's tugged free.

With the increased range of vision, he glances down at whatever he can make out of himself. It's not pretty. Plastoid is somehow painted red and his left arm seems to be twisted at an unnatural angle.

Yeah. He's not making it out of this alive.

He drinks in the sight Obi-Wan makes above him, hair flopped over his forehead, a smear of ash across his cheek. He's beautiful.

The warmest, kindest hand cradles Cody's cheek. "I'll get you a med-evac-"

"They cut off," Cody fights a wheeze, "communications, remember?" A wet cough erupts violently- shaking him from the inside out. Time ceases through the blinding pain. When his lungs quiet there's wetness falling down his face. Blood and tears. "You've gotta go, sir."

"No, Cody. No."

"Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan goes stockstill, staring with wide, wet eyes. Too soft. Too full of urgency and pain and yearning. He's always trying to get Cody to refer to him by his first name.

There's always a first time for everything. And a last.

"C'mere."

"Cody," Obi-Wan says even as he leans in closer and rubs a thumb across Cody's cheek. Their foreheads meet. He can't decide if Obi-Wan’s breath on his skin is comforting or exhilarating.

With all the strength he can muster, Cody tilts up his chin and closes the remaining distance between them.

A kiss.

Warm press of lips to lips. Just the hint of facial hair brushing against his skin. He can't imagine it gets better than this, even with lips as cracked as they are and wet with blood instead of a balm or saliva. It's not as if he knows better. It's his first kiss after all.

Another first and last.

It's only fitting for it to be with Obi-Wan. The person he's very privately begun to think of as the love of his life.

In another life, when he opened his eyes after their first kiss, the cause of his blurred vision would be Obi-Wan's fault alone. "Always wanted to do that," Cody croaks.

It's true. He's wanted a lot of things. A lot of simple, impossible things that will never be. But. He's dying here and now. He knows how to make the best out of a bad situation.

Obi-Wan’s expression is nothing short of cracked through and through with devastation. "I won't leave you here."

He doesn't think he's ever heard his general’s voice clogged with tears before.

"You will.”

And because he doesn't have to pretend anymore that he doesn't want to touch his general--that he doesn't want to feel his skin and share his breath and know him in the most intimate of ways--Cody reaches for Obi-Wan's hand.

In an instant, his stomach churns as his vision swims, he realizes his mistake. That was his mangled arm he tried to move. The tide of the pain is too strong to fight. Obi-Wan blurs to nothing but a smear, words turn to garbled noises and-

The world goes black.

[Beep]

[Beep]

[Beep]

Cody comes to with the groggy need to open his eyes. It’s a struggle. Seemingly with the weight of an AT-AT upon his eyelids, he blinks his eyes open to searing bright white. Immediately his eyes shut. Not to be deterred, he tries again, blinking steadily until he can see.

Sterile white ceiling. Fluorescent lamps. A flimsy curtain. Annoying beeping.

He's in a med bay.

Tubes and wires. Barely patterned sheet. A hand holding his own-

A chunk of unmistakable ginger bangs flopping onto an eyebrow. Tired eyes looking at Cody so fondly, creases of a smile drawing from the edges of his eyes down his cheeks.

“They said you'd awaken soon,” says Obi-Wan. A thumb strokes Cody's wrist.

"'m I dead?" Cody croaks. His throat is drier than the heated days on Geonosis. He frowns. Obi-Wan is here. That isn’t right. "Are we both dead?"

"I should certainly hope not.”

So. Not dead.

Well.

That's unexpected.

“Wha-” Cody's throat catches on a cough and he splutters roughly.

“Here, here, dear.” Obi-Wan’s there with a cup of water, directing a straw past his chapped lips.

He sips the water down gratefully, satisfied as it soothes the parched gravel of his throat. He tilts his head away when he's done and Obi-Wan puts the cup down.

“What happened?” Cody tries again.

“How about I tell you later? After Egg has checked you-”

No. That won't do.

“Sir,” he interrupts, unyielding, “Sitrep.”

Obi-Wan must be tired because he doesn't even try to do their usual mutually stubborn staring match; he just sighs. “Ghost company managed to infiltrate the Separatist base and contact the admiral to request reinforcements and med-evac.”

Cody narrows his eyes. There is a glaring gap of information. “Where were you?”

“With you,” he says plainly.

Cody opens his mouth to say something but Obi-Wan effortlessly silences him by placing his hand over Cody's once more.

“I wouldn't leave any of my men behind to die, but, you- Cody.” There is a deep ocean of emotion pooled in Obi-Wan's eyes and spoken in the two syllables of Cody's name. “I couldn't leave you. Not like that.” Obi-Wan sighs as if expelling the weight from his shoulders. "And,” the corner of his mustache twitches upwards, “personally, I think I deserve a better kiss.”

“You- what?” Cody's brain flickers mid thought.

“The kiss. I deserve a better one, “ he says with near haughty conviction. “It was rude, quite frankly, to kiss me and nearly die. Gave me quite the fright.”

Cody swallows, his mouth suddenly dry again. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

Cody's eyes cannot be dragged away from Obi-Wan's lips. As Obi-Wan sits on the edge of the bed, all Cody can see is the hint of teeth catching on Obi-Wan's pink bottom lip.

He's closer now. Closer still as he gently pitches himself over Cody.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Kiss me,” Obi-Wan breathes.

It's not an order. Not really. Cody is helpless but to obey.

He makes a wounded noise into the meeting of their lips.

Obi-Wan is so soft and warm- his lips, his beard, the nudge of his nose. His hand slowly trails up Cody's good arm, bare as Cody seems to only be wearing a med gown. Sparks dance up his skin.

As their lips push and pull into kiss after kiss, heat grows inside Cody's chest and belly, competing with his fluttering stomach, elated and happy and-

“Ahem.”

Their lips separate with a smack. Reality filters in alongside the sound of rapid, high pitched beeping. Obi-Wan pulls away, expression nothing short of sheepish.

Their highest ranking medical officer, Egg, approaches the bed. “I see you're awake and someone failed to notify me.”

“Yes, well-” Obi-Wan starts, face adorably growing pink.

Egg ignores him. “Commander, how are you feeling?” As he speaks, he taps buttons on a machine attached to the wall which blissfully makes the beeping stop. “Any discomfort? Nausea? Pain?”

Cody sets aside the embarrassment of being caught and evaluates himself. He feels… surprisingly fine. “No, nothing.”

“Good. If that changes you've got a button you can easily request more meds with. Use it; there's nothing valiant in unnecessary suffering.”

Cody nods, fully aware he needs to cooperate if he wants to stay on Egg’s good side.

"And, General,” Egg looks directly at Obi-Wan for the first time, “stop making my patient tachycardic."

"I make no such promises.”

Cody shoots him A Look.

“Darling,” oh Force- this is a development Cody had not seen coming, “I do endeavor to never make a promise I can't keep.”

Okay. Well. That's-

Egg sighs, long and weary. “I'll be back in roughly two hours for rounds. If you spill any body fluids in my med bay I'll be requesting your transport to The Resolute med bay. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” both Cody and Obi-Wan respond.

With that, Egg makes his departure, fully swooshing open the privacy curtain before leaving the room.

There is a moment of relative silence. Cody realizes that Obi-Wan is once again holding his hand. He likes it. He likes it a lot.

“That couldn't have gone better,” Obi-Wan announces cheerily.

Cody can't help it.

He laughs.

It starts small, just a huff of breath out his nose until he's wheezing, lips stretched over gum and tears dripping down his face, clutching Obi-Wan who similarly chortles. His laughter is the most joyous of music.

He's alive. Miraculously. And somehow- somehow they're doing things like hold hands now.

It strikes Cody that, although he's confined to this awful med bay bed, for the first time in his life he feels happy. He's actually, truly happy.

There's no way it can last but he hopes he'll remember this moment forever. Acting an absolute fool with the man he loves most. Happy.

[fellamarsh]

another thing i've been trying to do recently is read more self-published stuff. "but fell," you say, "you're a self-published author. surely you've been reading self-published stuff all along" and then i laugh for so long in response we both become uncomfortable.

see, the fear (which has for a long time been killing my mind) that i'll read other self-published stuff and find out that it's so much better than mine that i might as well stop writing forever kept me from doing that basically ever. i have a hard time not unfavorably comparing my work to others and had convinced myself i was being smart by withholding an avenue of de-motivation (reader: i was not being smart). it also doesn't help that i'm pretty low income and have a hard time spending money on books i haven't already read, and that self-published stuff isn't always available at the library---but really a lot of it was just me being a coward. which i'm working on. i could talk about how this particular cowardice is Very Silly, but i think enough has been said about it on writeblr and in the Writing Space in general that i don't feel the need to (though i will if anyone wants me to).

instead, i wanna talk about the self-published things i have read in the past few months and ask about the self-published things you love!

so: what happened was i got real sick, and while i was real sick i (naturally) read over 200,000 words of ace attorney fan fiction in the span of a few days. eventually i got bored of it (and also maybe annoyed at how people were characterizing some of my guys), but i still wanted to read something gay and romantic and nice, something i knew was gonna end happily, which isn't my typical fare.

now you may be saying (having gotten over all the uncomfortable laughter from earlier) "fell, you write gay romance. what do you mean that's not your typical fare?" listen. until a couple months ago i hadn't read a cut and dry romance novel since before i finished college. for context: i graduated in 2015. i know it doesn't make sense. i'm a guy who doesn't make sense.

but in this case it worked to my advantage. not the not making sense thing, but the not having read Published Romance in 1000 years thing. I didn't know where to start. I was very skeptical of everything the library had Available Now in the Gay Fantasy Romance category. what if it was all bad and also not good?

and then i scrolled past the familiar cover of our very own @ashen-crest's A Rival Most Vial.

now this was comfortable territory! this was a novel by a very nice writeblr person whose posts i enjoy! i already loosely knew the plot, i was familiar with the characters, i knew the names of things like rosemond street and the griffin's claw and that ambrose had blue hair and that at the end of it all there would definitely be Boyfriends. i didn't have to worry that this would be bad! i only had to worry that it would be really good!

but i wasn't worried about that, because i was officially Not Writing at the time, and because why the hell hadn't i read this book yet Ash literally emailed me some very kind words last year when my cat died??

Y'all, I devoured ARMV. If you haven't read it yet---especially if cozy fantasy is more your thing than it is mine---you should check it out Immediately. It was fun! It was heartwarming! It was sweet and earnest and confident! I was delighted to find it was occasionally hot! Ambrose and Eli snuggled up into my sick exhausted heart and found a permanent little place there. (Especially Ambrose. I have such a thing for Stiff Guys who Kind of Suck for Tragic Backstory Reasons and are So So Lonely They Don't Even Realize It. gawd)

(And a very small part of my brain spent the whole time wondering why I had been so afraid to really engage with the work my community is doing. The community that I'm in. The one I'm a part of. Why?! Maybe more on that later.)

But from there the curse was broken! I immediately devoured @stjohnstarling's What Manner of Man in a similar sort of frenzy (and hooooly shit guys am I excited for the expanded, finalized version to come out at the end of next month!) and started digging into @lurinatftbn's The Flower that Bloomed Nowhere (which I can already tell is going to be an All Time Favorite).

And now I want to ask you what your favorite self-published books are so that I can read them, too, but I think I will in another post that doesn't dedicate so much space to talking about my various and sundry Issues and isn't Terminally Long

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Ash after going on vacation from streaming to go on an adventure, then dying and coming back three times during, coming back to streaming: "Y'all won't guess what happened AGAIN during this times vacation!"

(dunno why but I'd like to think that in any pokemon world where Ash Ketchum is a streamer he's told his followers and subs about his deaths. So like him dying during vacation happens so often that there is now an emote for when he says it and the emote is just him in the family guy death pose)

It's consenually assumed that Ash is fibbing the 'death' count and legendary count, No one is THAT unlucky.

Ash ends up being known as the Exaggerator among the streaming community. Cancel culture left and right to take him off the platform because he's lying. But everytime you send a hate mob, Ash shuts that shit down fast.

"Just cause you guys don't believe in me, doesn't mean im lying." He scowls one day in the middle of a CraftMines game (tm). "Fuck off and eat shit, I just wanna play games, train and tell you all stories."

The scowl on his face ends up being a reaction meme for awhile, usually followed by *The only time i cuss.*

I just imagine in Kalos, Right after the Yveltal situation, he streams directly after it. It's only his face, but you can hear the hustle and bustle of the hospital works.

"Alright, Who bet on this one being worse, Pay up cause wowzers."

And the chat floods with

Wowzers?

Did he say wowzers?

Dude what drugs are you on?

Yo, are you in a hospital??

Motherfucker said "wowzers" okay old man.

"I'm on Morphine, and i took a pretty bad hit to the head, excuse me for being lingolistic of the last century." And the camera tilts before he rights it, just as pikachu comes onto the screen, looking battered and bruised and a helluva lot more gray than before that's only barely receding. "Why did i do this again? Oh- i was gonna say im gonna take a break from streaming for a bit."

"Why did you stream to say that then?" A voice offscreen asks. "Why not like, send a Pidge?"

"It's actually called Z now." Ash quips back and his eyes are closed. You can see the bruises underneath his eyes. "probably should of- i dunno Clem my head hurts."

"Okay, say bye then."

"Bye then."

The stream doesnt end right away, Ash sort of doses off with Pikachu nestling on his neck. His fur is noticeablly less gray, but no one will figure that out until they compare

At First, there are skeptics all around. Loads of people calling it a publicity stunt cause - who the fuck streams in a hospital for crisis sake!!! Theres like a hate mob for awhile, and his numbers drop wildly.

Until a video comes out, it's clearly a bystander that shows the blurry images of a Pokemon. You can see the camera desperately trying to focus but it can't. You can also see it attacking groups of people, so the camera focuses on them.

You can hear Ash screaming for his pokemon, for Pikachu, before the video cuts out.

The numbers sky rocket, abd everyone desperately awaits for the next stream. Except the Kalos League hapens, and they're all left in the dark until Ash goes back home to Kanto. His arm is in a cast, his face is bruised along the left side of his jaw, and his nose has a plaster over it.

"So." He starts the stream, smiling brightly. "Trainers and Entertainers, guess whose not dead!"

And the stream skyrockets to one of the most viewed for the time.

I went wild but like- thinking on it, Streamer AU has got me. XD

[ominous-faechild]

✦ Writer Questionnaire 2 ✦

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet! (And @the-letterbox-archives tagging me when I was almost done here, haha)

Heads-up! Long post!

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!

Two months ago to the date actually??? Or, at least, that's when I first uploaded a story here. My first actual Writeblr post was me hopping in on an open tag on the 6th of June, haha. I thought it was just a month, but looks like the summer's gone by in a flash! 😭

What led you to create it?

So, I'm a writer on Tapas! I'd been attempting to social network on other social medias (twitter and bluesky) but wasn't getting anywhere, didn't like the general formats, and uh... I'm sure I don't have to explain why I don't want to touch Twitter with a 10-foot-pole anymore. Let's just say, if you haven't seen, it's just as bad as (if not worse than) everyone says. Anyhow, I'd seen lots of Tumblr short stories on other platforms and started investigating what it's like here. Didn't know what "Writeblr" was or that it even existed, but eventually stumbled into the field after posting my short story. Thanks, @darkandstormydolls! ❤️

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

How supportive everyone is??? Like omg you guys are so sweet, idk how to take it. Also I love seeing how much passion everyone else has for their writing, haha.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Uhhhh, I think I'm pretty open about the things I'd like people to know about me, haha. I never mean to offend, so if I accidentally say something wrong, please tell me! I'm autistic and very dumb.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

I'm ngl I keep meaning to build out my followed tags for my fandoms, haha. The only fandoms I really see things for are TMAGP (10/10, TMA is my obsession. I am obsessed. It is one of my Special Interests and I love it with all my heart) and House of the Dragon??? Except I'm not even a fan of HotD??? So that's kinda annoying, haha. (Aka, my fandom stuff, but that's on me.)

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Rising From the Ashes, tragically. (Because it's one of the LAST things I should be working on right now, haha.) Otherwise, I'm of course always obsessed with the Arcane Rifts. Then I force myself to be obsessed with Sun and Shadow, though it's slowly growing on me, haha.

How long have you been working on them?

Haha, so I've historically jumped around a lot in working on different things, so these are approximate guesstimations!

Rising From the Ashes has likely had 3 or 4 years put into it/the characters. If you include the Calamity Crew (which overlaps with it in the timeline and originally ended up merging with the cast of RFtA), I'd say definitely 4 years!

The Arcane Rifts has had 5 years put into it.

Sun and Shadow is very new; I'd say it probably only has about 4 months of work in it? It's part of why I'm less interested in it, haha. Less I've put into it and less I'm attached to.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

Oh... oh dear. How could you ask me this??? 😭😭😭

Rising From the Ashes has existed since, I think, 2016. It started (tragically) as an RP starter on Google+. I wish I was kidding.

To those unaware of how it worked in that space (and likely similar ones to this day), you'd post a starter and people would join in with their own characters. 99% of the time, they'd drop out before long. However, I'd work out details of the characters in the process and carry that info over into the worldbuilding. I eventually stopped RPing with the masses and settled down with a single "partner" who I'll call Kris.

She's the one who stole my docs.

The Arcane Rifts technically originated as another RP starter? It never got attention, though, and instead my ideas for it simply carried over into the worldbuilding in general.

One of the characters of the original starter was important in the worldbuilding. It was not a character you see in the early books of tAR, though, so don't bother trying to figure it out. But, since he was so important, his origins were also important.

The Arcane Rifts started in 2019, as I wanted to make a story building out said character's origins. It was originally going to be a duology, the first book being Gene's backstory and the second being how Gene and The Other Guy's lives intertwined. (No, they were not gay for each other! 😂) It's since changed a lot, and focuses basically exclusively on Gene, haha. The last book in the series will probably be focused on the other character, though!

Sun and Shadow started for a romance novel competition on Tapas which has since ended. I didn't get to finish it in time for a lot of reasons, but I primarily cite stress and exhaustion from working full time at a physically-intensive job. It grew shockingly quickly and I had some fans donate to me related to it, so I'm kinda forced to work on it, haha. Dw--I like it! It's just harder to work on for a number of reasons, haha.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Tragic, the questions you're asking me--

It depends, haha. I'm autistic and hyperfixate a lot. Also, for one, that's a suuuuuper vague question??? Like what do you mean "how much time"--how much time within the day? How often in general? Idk, man, haha.

I think about the Arcane Rifts a LOT!

I've put an incredible amount of time and effort into it, and I'm in love with 90% of the characters there. Even the background characters have had a lot of work put into them, getting relatively fleshed-out backstories to make their motives understandable (even if not agreeable!), and I love them all so much, haha.

Except Katerina. She's a bitch.

I also think about Rising From the Ashes a good amount, and it's invaded my brain again lately, haha.

I took a step away from RFtA and basically all of my other stories late 2021 when Kris (my ex-writing partner) and I had a falling out. It was incredibly difficult for me emotionally to look at anything I worked with her on, and obviously RFtA was a huge one (actually, tAR was the only thing of my early works she had nothing to do with). Since early this year, I've finally been able to work on it again and it's been incredibly fun removing her stuff, actually!

I think all that is a good part of why I keep randomly getting obsessed with it again, haha. It's like looking at old friends (the characters, not Kris) and being all "omg??? I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER??? PLEASE TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU'VE BEEN UP TO!!!" except it's removing Kris's stuff, haha.

I think about Sun and Shadow a lot more than you might expect with how much I talk about not preferring it, haha. I love the characters! Crow and, actually, Valyarus especially. They're both super interesting characters, and I'll randomly find my brain working out scenes between characters interacting with them.

(The problem with SaS is that, as a book, it's incredibly different from my usual works. It's a small cast of Frey/Crow and technically Daleira, while most of my stories focus on larger casts. It makes for a VERY different experience, and so it's a lot harder to work on)

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

Actually, I've got a ready answer for this one! Until SaS, I was dedicating my time to the Arcane Rifts and had prepared the answer:

Percy Jackson meets Lord of the Rings in a steampunk fantasy world full of ✨mysteries waiting to be uncovered✨

(I'd say the "mysteries waiting to be uncovered" part ironically/accidentally mockingly most of the time, whoops, haha. I always feel awkward advertising my works.)

It was awkward when people would get actually interested in it from there and ask more questions, haha.

To clarify: that's my tagline for the Arcane Rifts! The story has gods and demigods messing with mortals, using them as their playthings and being REALLY immature babies because they don't really face consequences for their actions like PJ. Then, it's a lot more "grounded yet fantastical" like LotR, where magic is kinda infused with reality and yet you still have issues like starving to death and whatnot.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created.  Side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

UHHHH THERE'S A LOT TO LIST???

Try this for a taste! These are just the guys I've gotten colors for!

Freya, Crow, Daleira, Valyarus, Grimnir, Soren, Gene, Tazin, Mislav, Adilzhan, Ludmila, Rada, Caspar, Nikolai, Gennadi, Oska, Rieka, Liesel, Carmin, Nora, Sammy, Kieva, Caron, Varik, Elazi, Riaan, Roman, and Tiberius! (Though Tib is getting a name change sooner or later)

Who’s the most unhinged?

Unhinged in which way? There's a lot of options there, haha.

I'm going to give honorary mentions to Valyarus, Gene in the later books, Tazin, Rieka, Gennadi, and Tiberius ! (Why does it not surprise me that most unhinged characters are from tAR? 🤣 Also I swear it's a coincidence most of the unhinged characters are red.)

(... Probably.)

In general, I'd say that, incredibly ironically, the Existence of Order is the most unhinged of all my characters. She's just incredible at hiding it.

(Tbf half of the Existentials probably belong on the "unhinged" list anyway but eh. They still don't compare to Order!)

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

I'm going to give this as a tie between Gene and Sammy!

Gene has my 'tisms and just about all of my trauma, so we have a lot in common, whoops, haha. Also there's a... very specific detail about his character that makes him easier to write in general. It's just a major spoiler. 👀

Similarly and actually identically to Gene in some ways, while Sammy has a lot in common with me, he's also incredibly perceptive! (Although we don't share that fact.)

Due to the way I write, their analytical natures allow for them to spit straight facts about the worldbuilding and the people around them rather than beating around the bush, haha. Both are highly investigative, try to learn and understand everything around them, and notice small details other characters wouldn't! It makes it much easier for me to write, because uh... well here's an example of what my outlines look like.

Long story short: I include a lot of detail which I then transfer into the POV's character narration, cutting out details which they wouldn't notice or think about, haha. In Sammy's case (which that scene has Sammy as the narrator/POV character), very little information gets cut out because he's so perceptive!

(Here, as a treat--have another example!)

(In this scene, Nikolai is the narrator. Even the outline gets "filtered" to mirror the characters' way of thinking--like it's Nikolai himself seeing Caspar as "doll-like". The crossed-out stuff is details I most likely won't mention, but noted for myself, haha. I do the same thing if/when including details about the motives and thoughts of non-narrator characters.)

Do you ever cringe at them?

Gene and Sammy?

A B S O L U T E L Y .

Gene is a wreck in basically every way and desperately needs help (that he won't get until he meets Dimitry). As much as I love him, there's a lot of moments where you just can't help but wince and be all "shit, did you REALLY have to do/say that?"

Sammy on the other hand? He's a terrified, control freak manipulator who panics the moment he feels like he's losing control of a situation. It can be painful to watch, even if simultaneously fascinating.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?  AKA, do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?

I explicitly go out of my way to add backstory to and develop each and every one of my characters until they "write themselves", haha.

I want my characters to feel like real people, so I do my absolute best to make them as real as possible. (That's part of why tAR is so massive...)

Special shoutout to Dimitry here, btw. Dude COMPLETELY screwed over the planned and intended from the earliest days path of the Arcane Rifts. I've mentioned before that Gene is villain-coded, yeah? Want to know why?

Because he was MEANT to be one! Then Dimitry had to come along, be the sweetest, nicest fucking person around to Gene while he was going through the worst part of his life, and keep Gene from slipping off the deep end!

MITRY, YOU PIECE OF--

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? And do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? For example, as Asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on AO3, etc.

I absolutely love, love, love!!! people asking questions about my characters!!! 🥰

I would absolutely prefer them as Asks sent to me, and especially would prefer if separate subjects/questions were sent in separate Asks! Like, say you were going to ask me about Gene and Dimitry. I'd rather two separate Asks, one asking for whatever you wanted to know about Gene and another for whatever you wanted to know about Dimitry, haha. However, if you wanted to ask a single question about both, that obviously is fine as a single Ask!

On writeblr engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on WIPs, or vibes?

I definitely scope out before I follow, yes.

I choose based primarily on the personality of the person behind the blog, but the WIPs/vibes can also have an influence on my decision, haha. I'd rather follow people with kind/supportive personalities, and I'll eventually start liking their stories even if they're not initially my thing!

What makes you decide against following?

Bigotry. Moment I see it, I'm on the lookout for even the slightest hint of more and, if I see it, I'm OUT!

(That includes things like: homophobia, transphobia, TERFs, ableism, racism, xenophobia, etc.)

Also, while I include angst in my stories, the people who are big on "I have nothing but bad stuff in my writing and I'm proud" are, uh... not on my "follow" list. While they can write what they want and enjoy it, grimdark is not my thing. Angst is best in moderation and I very purposely control the amount of it in my life.

(Also Kris's--my ex writing partner's--obsession with "grimdark-ness" is a good part of why I'm so ecstatic to remove her stuff from my writing. Yes, I've tried it. For years. I hated it. Please and thank you. Also note that I proudly call myself an evil writer, so it's not like I don't love angst, it's just--moderation. Seriously.)

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Yes! I think a good 50-30% of my interactions are with non-moots, haha. I go out of my way to try to support my moots, but I'll definitely share support with anything that catches my attention, no matter who it's from!

To be fair, though, I think a majority of non-moots I interact with are on my mental "probably going to follow soon" list. I can be slow to make decisions, haha. It doesn't help that I try being active with my moots, so I'm trying to avoid growing that list too quickly!

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Haha, depends what you mean by that? My brain is definitely too full of my own characters to have any space for anyone else's, but I definitely do think of others' characters at times! There's plenty of y'alls characters I really like, haha.

Just... omg, my hyperfixated AuDHD brain refuses to focus on anything except for the Hyperfixation of the Moment™.

This was a huge one! Hopefully I'm not screaming into the void with this one, or you guys enjoy finding out more about me and my WIPs.

If you're curious about the reason this is labeled Writer Questionnaire 2... well guess what!

Tagging (gently! This is a lot, haha): @honeybewrites @yourpenpaldee @paeliae-occasionally @mysticstarlightduck @illarian-rambling @.darkandstormydolls (tagged you earlier in the post haha) + open tags!

Divider from @cafekitsune!

[opossumanon]

I was reading the reblogs of a post that basically said "Don't be a doomer about Kamala Harris being a black woman and worrying that racism and misogyny will lose her the vote, go out and campaign and vote and she'll win because we made her win" (Correct) and man...

The amount of people who get so obnoxious screaming about how voting for anybody in this election is morally horrible (No, it's our basic right and duty as Americans), how the rest of the world matters too (No shit Sherlock) and how "The leftism is leaving your bodies the second your rights are being threatened" and no????? Since when did being leftist mean shooting yourself in the foot to protest someone else being hurt????

To be clear, leftism is at the end of the day the belief that all people matter, all people deserve rights and happiness, housing is a human right, food and water is a human right, self-determination is a human right, war is bad, billionaires should never exist, etc. etc.

Leftism also means THINKING instead of just acting emotionally. Gaza doesn't benefit if we refuse to vote for Harris. The Democratic Party won't go "Oh no, the people are mad we didn't support Palestine :C" and even if they somehow did it wouldn't matter because Trump would be President and we'd all be fucked and he'd bomb Palestine anyways and then take a piss on their ashes.

Also it's important to note that Harris was part of the reason why Biden started to swing to the middle regarding Palestine and Israel. Harris pushed Biden into doing a lot of the leftist things he's done. Harris can be pushed too, we can elect her and say "Congrats on winning the office, now do these things for us" and she'll be more likely to follow through than fucking Donald "I can shoot a guy in the middle of the street and people would still vote for me" Trump.

I won't be able to vote in this election, but my goals/hopes for our future as a country are

Elect Harris

Bully Harris into cutting off support to Israel and pressuring them into returning the land stolen from the Palestinians

Make ranked voting a thing

Demolish the Electoral College with exploding car hammers

Get Trump tossed into prison for his countless felonies, plus treason

For fuck's sake people, please understand that the best way to help Palestine and the rest of the world, as well as ourselves, is to strategize, and voting for Harris is the best strategy we got right now, because "lol I'm gonna firebomb a Walmart" is never helpful. It's just talking the talk to sound all high and mighty while being a lazy shit and doing nothing of import.

Anyways before I dip remember that voting is harm reduction, especially make sure to vote in all your local elections, donate if possible, be an active member of your community, pick a particular cause you can fight for and fight for it, and you'll be way more helpful than any of the dumbasses screaming and crying about "boycotting" voting...Cuz that's totally how this works [insert facepalm emoji]

[raccoonfallsharder]

I think I just realized based off of one of your reblogs that one of the biggest reasons I like Rocket so much is because his backstory is too fucking relatable for me

i have too many reblogs to know which one you are referring to but

i think a lot of us who love rocket do so because some part of us relates to him. i'm not saying that we feel like we are rocket (though some of us probably do) but there's a sorrowful number of people out there who know what it's like to feel unloved, unappealing, unworthy; who have been convinced (or who have convinced ourselves) that we are too ugly or petty or small or flawed to be truly accepted or to deserve acceptance; who have been alone for so long or hurt so bad that we fear togetherness; who have gifts that have gone unappreciated by those closest to us; who have had our trust betrayed by those who should have protected us; who have held ourselves up to impossible and arbitrary standards. and that's not even beginning to count those of us who have chronic pain, chronic illness, visible or stigmatizing injuries and appearances, visible or invisible disabilities, and/or just don't feel at home in our own bodies. it doesn't count those of us with some version of survivors' guilt, or those of us who have felt like we used to have people to save before we failed them.

maybe this is why (imo) the folks in the rocket fandom so often to prove to be some of the kindest and most empathetic folks on the internet

when i (we?) write rocket getting an opportunity to heal - to give kindness or love and to be able to receive it - i heal something in myself, too. selfishly, grandiosely, i hope i get to offer a little healing to other folks, too.

and. beautiful blazing bby firebird. not to be, like, combative lol but tbh it's not surprising to me that someone who identifies with the idea of a phoenix would also identify with rocket. literally his whole arc is about rising from the ashes

anyway all this to say, rocket is deeply relatable and you are in very good company if you relate to him, darling sunshine. and i believe in you. i believe that you'll find ways to overcome the things you've gone through. i believe you'll work through the impossible standards and self-doubt you've placed on yourself, and the bad things that were done to you by others. and i believe that you deserve good things - like connection and community and joy. and if you don't already know that - if you're not yet at the end of your volume three - i believe you'll get there someday too. and if you DO know that, then i'm so glad your dog days are over, bby.

[elucienweekofficial]

Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- Smut Day One

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

[Please check all tags before engaging!]

You Look Like Bad News by @the-lonelybarricade

I gotta have you, I gotta have you - Elain hated living next to Lucien Vanserra. Almost as much as she hated the girl he was fucking.

When You Move, I'm Moved by @ataraxiasflame

When Elain Archeron flees Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony for a moment alone after an emotional experience, her mate follows her out of concern for what he feels through their bond, resulting in an evening neither had planned, but both had been wanting for ages.

I've been lost to you, sunlight (flew like a moth to you, sunlight) by @whatishowedyouinthedark

In all of her dreams, there is sunlight. That is the one constant in every single one Elain remembers after waking. And if there is no sunlight, she can still feel it beating against her skin in time with the heartbeat that has become a steady, comforting song in her mind. Sometimes it feels as if, when she dreams, she has woken from the sadness that is her reality into what should be her life.

-

or, the elucien breeding kink one :)

What We Wanted by @valamerys

Lucien’s first Fire Night as High Lord of the Spring Court puts he and Elain’s fledgling relationship in an awkward position.

The Fires Of Eventide by @animezinglife

A quiet evening. A secluded cottage in Spring.

Beasts Inside Us by @crazy-ache

“If you so much as spill a drop of her blood, I will gladly show you just what kind of beast I am. And you will find, once I’ve ripped your throat out with my bare hands, and burnt this manor and everyone inside to ash and bone, that I am something far, far worse than just a beast.”

While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

About Damn Time by @strawbrerian-writes

Elain planned to have a quiet, cool day off. The universe took one look at her plans and said "bet."

They Say I Did Something Bad by @separatist-apologist

Then why's it feel so good?

Elain Archeron's fiance is a total stranger to her, though his family's reputation for cruelty and avarice is not. Dreading a lifetime with a cruel, cold man, Elain decides to have one last night of freedom. Attending an infamous masquerade ball, Elain meets a stranger who offers to show her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. It's just one night of debauchery. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, Lord Save Me by @separatist-apologist

“How come I never see you at confession?” he pressed. Elain almost screamed.

Lucien never saw her at confession because the phrase "forgive me father, for I have sinned," was the start of every filthy fantasy she’d ever had about him.

I'm Going Out Tonight by @separatist-apologist

He rolled his neck and Elain paused, drinking him in. Even with his red hair plastered to his face, sweat soaking through his thin band t-shirt, Lucien Vanserra was the hottest man she’d ever seen.

And bass players were so her type.

“What did you say?”

He grinned, resting a broad hand over his muscular chest. “I asked if you had a man.”

Her mind flashed an image of Graysen. Too busy with work and the woman he was sleeping with on the side. She was there to pretend she didn’t know about that, wasn’t she? Did Graysen ever answer that question honestly, besides?

Holding up her drink, Elain ran her tongue suggestively over the straw. Lucien’s smile sharpened, those russet eyes darkening with obvious want.

“I don’t remember.”

Sharp as Glass and Twice as Bright by @valamerys

When he speaks again, it’s a low rumble in his chest. “If you keep doing that, dove, neither of us is going to get any sleep.”

Heat coils in Elain’s stomach. “I’m not tired.”

[Elucien + classic THERE IS ONLY ONE BED WHAT DO.] [yes i just did one for each of my ships dont look at me im a monster]

End Game by @separatist-apologist

Lucien Vanserra has been in love with Elain Archeron for as long as he's known her. With time ticking down before her inevitable engagement to Graysen, Lucien only has one goal: convince her to be his

But Only If You Dare by @kingofsummer93

It all started innocently enough. A silly game, a drunken dare.

Except now Elain can't sleep.

And it's all because of him.

I'm Damned If I Do by @separatist-apologist

“Get it off your chest,” he told her dismissively, returning to his work.

Let her scream and yell. It would change nothing given Rhysand and Feyre were doing this purposefully to push them together. Had Elain guessed that, too? Had she decided he was the safer person to vent her rage into?

She strode into his office and, like a petulant brat, swept everything off his desk. Lucien glared, irritated with the mess she’d made—she’d inadvertently shattered a rather nice crystal vase he’d gotten from Dawn, wrecking the little blue plant within in her recklessness.

“By all means, get it off my desk as well,” he told her dryly. Her chest heaved in the pretty silver dress she wore, pressing her breasts up against the neckline. Lucien had to look at his hands to stop looking at her body, though she was closer than she'd ever been

Our Hearts Still Beat The Same by @zenkindoflove

"She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat."

Elucien, Two-shot, Post-ACOSF. Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

Can read this fic independent of the series. They are separate stories but connected by song inspirations.

Both Forever and Rather Die by @foundress0fnothing

Elain runs a sex cult. She’s looking for something new. Lucien is new.

save the date by @thelovelymadone

Elain Archeron has had a perfect life.

Prettiest girl in her grade, first sibling to be engaged and living thousands of miles away from home. But then, her then fiancé cheats on her at their engagement party after she cajoled her entire family to come thousand of miles for her engagement.

Now, after four years, she’s going to be brave. She’s going to go to her eldest sister’s wedding as the maid of honor and bring … a paid actor to be her boyfriend.

Despite the lingering trauma of her ex-boyfriend posting her phone number on Internet forums and refusal to share how her childhood crush broke her confidence at her engagement party—what could possibly go wrong?

Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked by @crazy-ache

Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

A Dance In Winter by @animezinglife

While visiting the Winter Court leading up to Solstice, Elain and Lucien find some time alone.

talk refined by @temperedink

Newly mated Elain has pretty much adjusted to being fae after all this time. What she’s still hung up on? Being able to express things in the bedroom. Luckily, Lucien is totally willing to let her try that out on him.

[kitkatopinions]

Guess who saw another rwby Stan in the rwde tag again complaining about how rwde are using the block evasion just to freely "complain everything about the show" and how tumblr needs to fo better.

You mean like how the recent "complaint" about rwby was stans harassing a queer black woman because she criticized bumblee and many rwby stans here on tumblr were celebrating their victory of removing her video and even blocking her channel because if that criticism?

Bro, "Tumblr needs to do better?"

This is why people say that anti-rwde posters feel like a cult. What is Tumblr going to do? Posting criticism of RWBY is not hate speech or bullying lol, and that's what these guys don't understand. Yes, some rwde posters occasionally get into bullying and hate speech when they do things like say people should die or use slurs or make homophobic comments, all of which I've seen and condemned from RWDE posters AND RWBY fans (so if all rwde posters are condemned over the actions a few, so should all RWBY fans.) But the act of criticizing RWBY in any form (which is what "rwde" is) is not that, it's not the same thing no matter how many times these obsessive overly sensitive people say it is. To them, saying "I don't like RWBY" is the same as saying "I hate women" and saying "I think the romance writing for Bumbleby is forced" is the same as saying "I hate queer people," and saying "I think this show has bad and sometimes bigoted writing" is basically saying "nobody should be allowed to like this show and I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure it burns in the fiery ashes of Hell." I know this, because you can do things as simple as say "the merch in the stores isn't good" or "I'm interested in a creative re-write" or "I think Bumbleby I'd over-hyped" and you'll be sent death threats and harassed and told to stop watching and stop posting and that you've laid down with the dogs and 'fallen' and are now 'rwde' and therefore an enemy that must be purged.

Every fandom has groups of critics, every fandom gets roasted, much better pieces of media than RWBY have been dragged to Hell and back. People have to learn that no one is obligated to like or go easy on their favorite show, and disliking it or something in it is not automatically a sign of some darker bigotry lol, especially considering what company made it and that Miles Luna has a history of bigotry. Like

Tumblr isn't going to make 'don't post rwde' part of the community guidelines or stop rwde posters from blocking people so that we can be harassed. Once again, I used to be VERY choosy over who I blocked until I realized that the majority of the people who debated any of my posts weren't even sort of using logic or reality.

They're just mad that it's harder to bully us. The thing is that I would debate any anti-rwde poster that came at me but wasn't irrational and would actually address my points, but I'm not here to debate. I'm perfectly happy letting the people that enjoy RWBY and want good vibes and just like talking about how good they think the show is CONTINUE to do that. We disagree, but I'm happy they can find enjoyment in it. But they're NOT happy just enjoying the show and letting us be over here in our little corner talking about how we don't like this or that in RWBY, the fact that people are ALLOWED to criticize something they like is angering to them and something they're just and right to bully people over, because they think their show is above criticism and that they're the poor martyred heroes out here doing the Lord's work lol.

[starstuffandalotofcoffee]

I threw down pretty heavily with SURJ this year, and also wasn't particularly happy with their post-election analysis. I'm not necessarily looking to move orgs, but I'm curious what the takes on the WFP/Move On call were. I'm in the contacting them to see if I can get the recording, but I'd also love to get your deeper opinion.

the recording of the mass call is here (I couldn't recall the coalition name while drafting that post and was in a rush to get to something and probably should have waited). I will admit I was not in like, a great headspace to remember details, and I had to drop off early, but I have signed up for my local meeting which is tomorrow (check your area! there's links on the same page). It focused a lot more on community building and tangible plans put in place and a lot less about Our Fellow White Women coming from educated lefty white women in Brooklyn who only have access to other educated lefty white women in Brooklyn. I also think that it did contain some useful post-mortems. I do not think it's correct to say Democrats made all of the right choices over the past 4 years but the issue is less "we have abandoned the working class" and much more "messaging is fucked, a lot of programs move too slowly, and we should have prosecuted Trump much more quickly." Like, more generally, I think that capitalism is a massive problem and is a major factor why we're at where we're at. but SURJ felt like, well, Very Online Leftists who are like "under late stage capitalism we are all fucked" and when you ask "ok what should we do about it" they're like "stop capitalism" and when you're like "ok what are the actionable steps" they're like "CAPITALISM BAD". Or to put it another way, to reference the Daniel Hunter 10 steps article, it felt all very public angsting, no action. And perhaps it was just that that call was Wednesday Night and Worth Fighting For was Thursday and they'd had another day to pause and grieve and breathe but the former just made me feel like they were wallowing and the latter was the first thing that made me feel better that wasn't pure distraction.

also: Judith LeBlanc was a smart choice. I feel better today for having gone to my synagogue and talked to old left-leaning Jewish people. I think you need to spend time with people who can say "the steps backward are unacceptable, and also, I have gone forward once and I will keep doing it and I know the work might not be done in my or your lifetime and we still do it." I also think it's a key point in coalition building to have the former head of the Communist Party given an equal platform as Jamie Raskin and Pramila Jayapal and Leah Greenberg. (I also found Ash-Lee Henderson to be a fantastic host/moderator here; again, I think SURJ's mission isn't inherently bad in theory but it really does turn into a lot of Liberal Urbanite White Woman (and sometimes men) self-flagellation. Like...you should not make women of color do the work, but you should fucking listen to them instead of talking forever about how bad and sorry you are about other white women.)