#but i think i'd be afraid to get to that point with him not because like

[tevanbuckley]

To defend tommy (and perhaps give the writers more credit than they deserve), has buck been able to figure himself out whilst they've been dating? because for all oliver's talk about buck's bi-awakening being about buck, on screen it still doesn't seem like he's grappled with his sexuality outside of his attraction to tommy.

They're six months in and buck can't even clarify his sexuality when his sister makes a (pretty poor taste) joke about him having been "turned gay." He does the same thing he's been doing since 7.04 and talks around it.

Plus, let's be real tommy's not wrong about buck being impulsive, and he specifically has a history of using grand gestures in place of actually working through his issues. So whilst i think buck does know what he wants re: his future with tommy, like i've been saying since april i don't think he's actually thought about what that means for him and his identity. Even with Gerrard, he doesn't seem to put together why he's getting under his skin so much. There's been a very steady (if perhaps accidental) thread through buck's bi-awakening of him pretending to be more okay with it than he actually is. Like, sure could his first queer relationship be his last, yeah, but he probably should be able to say the word bisexual outloud before trying to make that happen.

I'd also argue that buck's put tommy up on a pedestal a bit, despite the fact tommy's been very open about his flaws. Even after the abby reveal, he's willing to brush past it with barely a conversation and asking him to move in. That doesn't scream, "I love you in spite of your flaws and mistakes," it screams "I'm ignoring your flaws because I love you." and that's kind of a recipe for everything to all come crashing down at some point. Which is exactly what tommy's afraid of happening.

In theory I don't even mind them breaking up/going on a break if it forces buck to actually deal with all those things, but that's only really satisfying if there's a full circle moment where he's able to go back to tommy with real clarity about who he is and what he wants.

[impactrueno]

Thoughts on a potential Beetlejuice and Astrid friendship? I can see BJ trying to bond with her as part of a scheme to win Lydia's heart (by showing off his stepdad skills) but actually growing kinda fond of her. Like a weird twisted version of the cartoon dynamic.

honestly i'm very surprised we didn't see much of that at all in BJBJ, especially considering they were even selling merch about it:

i can only base this opinion off of jenna's interviews and astrid's reactions to beetlejuice getting rid of jeremy and rory, but i'm convinced that they would get along surprisingly well, just maybe not at first. she doesn't seem to be afraid of him in the slightest. maybe i'm a little biased because of how much she reminds me of musical lydia, but i think she can keep up with him relatively unfazed, so he wouldn't be able to mess with her so easily like he does with everyone else. i get the sense that this would impress him a bit.

i also think she would poke and prod with tough questions he's gonna have to figure out how to avoid. she's very sharp and can be quite abrasive too. i LOVE the idea of her being able to catch him off guard at times, like when she pointed out the contract was null and void. bro literally went "wbwuh?" lmao

does beetlejuice even have a paternal instinct? i think even he doesn't know that. he'd probably tell himself he does just to make himself feel more suitable for lydia and her daughter and then try to sell his image as such. i just know he would play that shit up to cartoonish levels with all the dad stereotypes from movies and tv. but once again, we wouldn't really know how much of that would be genuine because he's always clowning around.

i'd like to think he would genuinely care for her though. and this would completely shock him, because i'm sure that in his 600 years he's never felt something like this before. the paternal thing i mean. that's a very specific feeling he never would've seen coming because he's probably never considered fatherhood before. because i mean. he's dead, he can't have kids of his own anyway lol

if his feelings for lydia are genuine and run that deep (and they seem to be, because who the hell pines for that long) then he will inevitably care for astrid as well. even if it was part of a deal, he did save her life, and with great satisfaction too.

i feel like all of this would develop before lydia even comes around to the fact that beetlejuice isn't going anywhere, so them getting along would be to her absolute chagrin lol

[ladylokianna]

Some quiet moments

Partially based on my own prompt here and written after this post i casually read today. Hope you enjoy a fluffier and softer Aemond (though i love smut Aemond, i'm totally uncapable of writing something smut).

Warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff.

Pairing: i don't like to write Y/N, so is an Aemond x reader (a nameless wife)

English is not my first language and i am constantly trying to improve, so i apologise for any mistakes.

Also not so good to give a good title, sorry XD

***

You are so busy braiding the flowers the girls brought to you now and then that you did not notice Aemond until the very last moment, when you feel him placing something warm on you –his coat, you noticed shortly afterwards– and his hands carefully place it on your shoulders, lifting the collar to protect your neck, taking care not to crease the flower garland that Jaehaera or one of your daughters had carefully arranged on your hair, loosely braided.

"I knew i'd find you here." Aemond greets you in his usual calm voice, sitting by your side. "You might catch cold, love, summer is still far away."

"Hi darling. I was starting to get a bit chilly, actually, but when the girls and i went out, the sun was still bright and i didn't think about wearing something warmer." you answer with a big smile, interrupting what you were doing to take and hold his hand. "And what about you? I can see you're tired."

He told you about his day, spent travelling around the realm between meetings and state matters.

"Then you should reach the Council, they must be waiting for you." you reason.

"They can wait." he reply, encircling your shoulders with his arm and holding you close to him. In your lap, under the flowers you are weaving, Aemond noticed one of his books. "How was your day?"

"It was less interesting than yours, i'm afraid. As always i tried with little success to read something in valyrian, i had lunch with Alicent and spent some time embroidering with Helaena and... just an hour ago, i was crowned queen of the garden." you say cheerfully. You then point to the blue flowers you carry in the lap. "However, i advise you to be careful, because the girls are looking for your favourite flowers with all the intentions of crowning you too."

"That's a risk i'm willing to take, if i can have you alone for a few minutes without having to share you with someone else." he chuckles, surrounding you in a tight hug and leaving many small kisses on your temple.

Feeling him so relaxed and calm during the day is a rare thing, accustomed as he is to always being on guard, always on the alert, ready to detect the slightest sign of danger to react accordingly. Suddenly you both heard the girls' laughter grow closer, a sign that they are returning from their search.

"...i was thinking that i would love to have another baby."

"You want to fill the Red Keep with children?" you ask, amused.

"Why not? After all, our son and i are blatantly outnumbered, and if we are not careful enough, we will certainly end up being overwhelmed by you girls."

You rub his leg affectionately, leaning the head back to get a better look at him.

"I will think about it." you reply. "But who knows, if tonight and... let's say maybe those to come, you would decide to read me something in valyrian, i might... you know... think better about it."

"Wait... is all what it takes? Some reading in high valyrian?"

"Maybe."

"Good enough for me, we have a deal."

You giggle, before he kiss you tenderly.

"I said maybe, Aem."

"You cannot recant now, a deal is a deal."

Jaehaera and her three little cousins, their arms laden with flowers, stood at some distance from the bench giggling between themselves at seeing you two embracing, until your middle daughter run towards you, eager to give her dad something she had picked up in the gardens.

"Can i bring it to Vhagar?" she asked, showing to Aemond a huge yellow flower.

"Vhagar is resting now, my love. We will bring it to her tomorrow. Keep it safe, will you?" promise Aemond. He look up, smiling lovingly at the other two daughters and Jaehaera as well. "Hello, my loves."

The youngest search her father's attention by placing both of her little hands on his face, trying to greet him in valyrian and giggling when Aemond, with a cheeky grin, pretend to nibble on her fingers.

"This one is for you instead." Jaehaera smiles at her uncle, taking the garland you had finished weaving.

She ask him to lean against the back of the bench, but Aemond, with a theatrical gesture, knelt before her, bowing the head as if during a real coronation, before she puts the garland on his head and untying the string that keep his hair neatly tied back, then began braiding it and showing your younger daughter how to do it properly.

If Criston Cole, sent by Aegon to find Aemond, is astonished to faced with that scene, he did not show it, but he take a few long moments to call him, perhaps undecided whether to interrupt that idyll or not.

"I really have to go now." sighs Aemond in a very low voice. "See you later."

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[stellamancer]

i know i've said it before but i was thinking earlier today about how when it comes to selfships my partner has to be like... able to handle me getting mad at them and like not like a little mad but like volcanic eruption screaming crying anger. and i think that ●●●● would be able to take it.

and the other one who could is probably bakugou.

[yesplsnothankyou]

I only come on tumblr when I'm at the very end of my rope and barely hanging on by a quickly disintegrating thread and I don't know what that tells you about me

[zevrans-remade]

[joycrispy]

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC the Dog and the Death Wish

Written for: Flufftober, prompt 1. Lost Pet Meet Cute

"Cujo!"

Both Tim and the dog turn their heads in the direction of the voice at the same time. There's not a lot of people in the Robinson Park at five in the morning - that's why Tim is here, actually, because he wanted a walk but did not want to deal with people - so the dog’s owner is easily recognizable.

A boy with a disheveled mop of black hair, sixteen, maybe seventeen years old, in old jeans and an unzipped hoodie. He has a leash in one hand and a look of worry on his face as he approaches, not quite walking but not yet running towards them.

The dog gives him an excited bark and, finally, leaves Tim alone, darting back to the boy. Tim breathes out a sigh of relief. Not that he is afraid of dogs, but this one was big and loud, with no leash and very interested in his cup of coffee for some reason.

The boy catches his pet by its collar and turns to Tim, an apologetic smile on his face. In the foggy park, where the only sources of light are street lamps and the faint brink of dawn over the skyline, he looks a little otherworldly. But then, everything looks otherworldly at five in the morning.

"I'm so sorry," the boy starts, strapping the leash to the dog's collar, "He doesn't usually run off like that, I thought I'd be okay to let him play around for some time-"

"It's alright," Tim interrupts his ramble and smiles back. If it's a bit forced, then no one would notice in the dim lighting. Only the boy somehow does, tilting his head in a concerned manner.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Tim rushes to assure, hiding his free hand in his pocket and awkwardly moving his coffee cup in the air, "I guess humans are not the only ones who crave coffee in this hour."

The boy blinks, clearly taken aback. Then, his eyes shift to Tim's cup, and then he snaps his head to the dog, who is wagging its tail with an innocent look. Somehow, it looks much smaller now - Tim swears the dog was the size of a mastiff the first time he's seen it, but now it's barely bigger than a hound. Is this his sleep-deprived hallucinations kicking in?

"Cujo!" This time, the boy's voice sounds accusatory, "We talked about this! What did I tell you about stealing drinks that are not mine?"

The dog barks. Tim blinks. He is fairly sure dogs shouldn't be having coffee at all, but the boy seems entirely unconcerned on that matter.

"I can buy you a new coffee?" The boy offers, and Tim shakes his head, coming back from his thoughts.

"Um, no, thanks," he smiles again, and huffs a short laugh, "He didn't get to it, and, besides, it's a special order, they won't brew it for anyone who's not me."

The boy suddenly freezes, staring at Tim. And then, his lips slowly stretch in a grin.

He points to Tim's cup, "Is that Death Wish?"

Now, it's Tim's turn to freeze and stare.

"How'd you-" and a moment later, it hits him, and he points a finger to the boy, "You! The only other guy who orders it!"

The dog barks again, looking between them and happily nudging it's owner in the hip with its nose. The boy laughs softly and pats it on the head.

"Guilty as charged," he admits with a smirk and nods to the dog, "At least it makes sense why Cujo chose you out of all the people in the park."

"And not because I'm literally the only other person here," Tim rolls his eyes, even though he feels himself smiling as well.

"Oh, you're not," the boy waves him off, "The park is never empty, well, not for us," he adds a bit cryptically, and then gestures to the gates down the path without skipping a beat. "Anyway, I was planning on getting a coffee after the walk, but do you wanna go and give baristas a heart attack by coming in together?"

That's... not very nice. Tim thinks about it for a moment. Then, he shrugs and smiles.

"Sure," he takes a sip of his coffee, "I'm Tim, by the way."

"Danny," the boy introduces himself and nods to the dog, "And the mediocre boy is Cujo."

"Mediocre?"

"He's not a 'good boy' for running off, but he's not a 'bad boy' either, since he got me a Death Wish buddy. Hence, mediocre boy."

Tim hides a laugh as all three of them head to the gates, absently noticing how the first rays of the dawn are coloring the treetops in gold.

"Makes sense."

[morverenmaybewrites]

wait r we allowed to send these in for characters u write for? :o

cuz i’m curious abt this one “What freaks them out the most in a relationship?” for jason

Yes, please do!

"What freaks them out most in a relationship?"| Jason Todd

Honestly, I think Jason Todd is afraid to love again, simply because of the way he loves. He tends to love wholeheartedly, without reservation, often to the point of self-destruction.

Remember that this is the man who endured at least six months worth of torture just so he wouldn't betray his father. Not a lot of people are capable of that sort of loyalty. 

To add insult to injury, it's very likely that he never got to experience any sort of positive reinforcement when it comes to loving a person.

In my Arkham fanfics, Jason's father was an abusive drunk and his mother was a junkie. While he learned to avoid his father, I'd like to think that he did hold some sort of love for his mother. He tried, in his own way, to take care of her, keep her safe.

He'd put a blanket over her when she was lost in her heroine-dreams, he'd wipe the drool from the side of her mouth, he'd leave stolen food next to her sweat-stained mattress for when she woke up. And all it ever got Jason, I imagine, was an absent-minded sort of affection. Perhaps she'd give him a vague smile, her eyes bloodshot and glassy, as if she wasn’t really seeing him, perhaps she'd ruffle his hair.

And for a long time, he'd think that was love.

Something rare, something small, but something that kept him warm all the same (for East End was a cold place), and he'd sip it like rainwater between his cupped palms, because it was all he'd ever known.

But then he gets adopted, and suddenly his perspective changes. 

Love, he realizes, can be patient. It can be his father Bruce, who somehow never got angry at him during those early days, when hope had warmed the inside of his chest like a swallowed star.

Love can be easy, he learns. It can be something as simple as Alfred, waiting up for him after a long rainy night, bringing him towels that were somehow always warm. It can be warm soup on the days that he woke up with a sore throat and a fever burning through his skin (and even to this day, he marvels at the idea that in Wayne Manor, food can come so easily--without stealing, without a fight).

But, he'll also tragically learn (or so he thinks) that love has to be earned.

I've always had this idea (and I stand by it) that Bruce did love his kids, deeply. But because of his own issues, he couldn’t love them in a way that they needed to be loved (and isn’t that true of most parents?).

It is the way Bruce never smiled at him when he was Robin. 

It is long nights of training just for a hint of his father’s approval. 

It is the constant comparison to another son, one who is faster, smarter, and better in every way. 

It is the way he thinks–and becomes terrified–that if he doesn’t earn his place in Wayne Manor, if he doesn’t earn his father’s love, he will be back in that cold place in East End where nothing can ever keep him warm again. 

And then Joker happens.

And then Joker happens. 

And no matter how strong he tried to be, how silent, no matter how much he tried to endure. 

He breaks (clean in two, a crack so wide it will never heal, you can trace the fractured seam of him and find the exact place where his heart was broken). 

Even worse, Batman breaks: he leaves Jason for dead (or so he thinks).

And a part of him will always think: is it enough? Was I not enough? 

Was it not enough to endure? To stay silent? To keep his father’s secrets?

Had Jason somehow, through some fault in his won, not done enough to earn being loved, being saved?

(Is he always going to be that small child in East End, and all he will ever know of it are vague smiles through bloodshot, glassy eyes? Was this his punishment for hoping for more? He can drink and drink and it will never be enough, the rainwater will always slip through his palms). 

And then there’s you. 

And at first he thinks it’s easy (as easy as warm soup on days when he’s feeling sick, as easy as a towel after a night in the rain), because you are brave and reckless and you are quite pretty when you smile. And it has been so long since he’s had a friend. 

It’s easy because you’re easy to be with: you read into his silences, you calm him down when he falters and you are braver than he gives you credit for (and there are days when he wishes that you are less brave). 

It is easy until one day, Jason realizes what’s happening and the first thing he thinks is that he can’t go through this again. 

He cannot be that child in East End, who follows his mother for crumbs of her affection like a dog starving for scraps.

He cannot be the boy in the Batcave, practicing over and over just so he’ll finally get to see his father’s smile

He cannot be Robin in Arkham Asylum, with a bullet hole in his chest and a brand burning on his face

And yet, and yet, Jason does not know any other way to love. 

He does not know of any other way it does not end in tragedy (and hurt and pain and betrayal). 

Oh, he is terrified. He thinks he fears you more than any other living thing in Gotham. 

To love you, he thinks, is to give you the chance to destroy him all over again. 

And he can’t, he can’t go through that again. 

(But oh, there are days Jason thinks you will be worth it.). 

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 29 Eddie Brock / Venom

Y/N had met Vee during a Halloween party.

A little intimidated by the crowd and not knowing anyone, she had stayed in her corner for a good part of it, until this giant with his incredible costume came to talk to her.

It would be a lie to say that she had not found him adorably charming, and she would have liked them to be more than friends, if he had not spent most of the time talking to her about his Eddie.

It was obvious that there was something strong and unique between Vee and this Eddie, even if he did not seem to appreciate him at his true value.

"He never agrees with me… He wants to control everything !" he had sobbed against her shoulder. "He says that I won't even be good at cleaning toilets."

"That's not nice. Maybe this relationship is not very healthy."

"But I love Eddie. He takes care of me and even though he's a stupid loser, he tries a lot. Maybe… Maybe I'm too hard on him."

"It's normal to have expectations from your partner. You need to sit down and communicate, to see what's wrong and find solutions."

"You're right, little morsel ! You're a good friend !"

Obviously very busy, Vee kept in touch with her by calling her almost every night and sending her messages, but never having time to see her.

He used Eddie's phone, while he slept. Before meeting her, Vee had never seen the point of having one, and he contacted her secretly because he found it funny to have a secret all to himself.

"But I'll tell him at some point, because we share everything. We're in symbiosis, we're one."

"That's cute. Do you think he'll be angry ?"

"No. Scared maybe."

"Oh." she wondered. "Is he the jealous type ? He'll be afraid that I'll steal you from him ?"

"I'd rather be afraid that he'll steal you from me, I think he'll love you a lot. And that's why he'll be afraid for you. He'll think I want to eat your brain."

Sometimes she didn't understand everything he said, but she found him funny and considered that he simply had a particular sense of humor.

But after several months of talking to him, he finally ended up running into him while a guy was trying to take her purse in an alley.

Vee jumped from a rooftop, growled at the thief, grabbing him with one hand, before biting his head off. Then he turned to Y/N, smiling.

"Eddie, she's my friend."

"Y/N ?" a voice that seemed to come from inside him asked. "Great, Vee, she's not going to freak out at all because you just killed someone. I already told you to go get some chickens if you were hungry."

"You never let me do anything ! He was mean ! He was attacking my Y/N !"

"Let me talk to her, okay ? So I don't traumatize her more than necessary."

In the end, Venom was an alien, and Eddie his host, a man not as horrible as she had imagined, simply trying to keep his symbiote from doing too much mischief so that they wouldn't be spotted by the government.

They fought often but they couldn't live without each other. Literally for Venom, even if they also loved each other too much to want to be apart.

As he had expected, the human had panicked a bit when he learned that he had a friend, that she didn't really know what he was, and that they were therefore putting her in danger just by talking to her. But Eddie had understood that she was important. He had felt it.

When Vee said that they shared everything, he was dead serious.

"I showed him a picture of you. He got an erection."

"Vee !" Eddie shouted, trying to silence the head floating next to his shoulder. "Shut up ! Those are not things to say ! Excuse him."

"Why ? I like Y/N, and you like her too, and she likes us. Her pheromones don't lie."

"Vee ! You're making everyone uncomfortable, stop."

"See ? He never agrees, he controls everything."

Y/N saw clearly, now understanding many things that had seemed a bit strange to her. She could have run away, but despite this surprising discovery, she really liked Vee, and Eddie seemed as charming as he was.

So she suggested that they spend the next Halloween, all together this time.

[tan1shere]

um do you think you could write about billie coming home drunk after partying with her friends with smut ig (IF YOU WANT I LOVEE YOUR STORIES)

Missed You

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: ooou coming right up !!!

Summary: you hadn't gone with her tonight and she missed you alot when she comes back home.

Warnings: smutyness, eating out, drunk billie. I think that's it ?

Masterlist

Friday night, and you were home. Alone, seeing as your girlfriend Billie was at an after part for one of the award shows. You sadly couldn't attend either of them, because you had to work, yet you still supported her though. Even if it was through a screen. She had won an award and you were so proud. Still a bit upset you couldn't attend her and the others to the party after.

"You can come when you're done baby." She said, almost pleading. -

She honestly hated these things and only enjoyed them if you were there on her arm. Especially at the events, she adored taking you along the red carpet just to show you off. It was so sweet. You even noticed in a few mini interviews they had asked about you. "Shes working today I'm afraid." She makes a suddened face at the person she was speaking to. Then turns to the camera currently on her. "But I love you beautiful, see you at home." She then proceeds to blow a kiss your way. You smile at your desk feeling so loved by her.

- "It'll be late by then bub, I'd wanna just relax at home." You reply, folding laundry. "Then I won't go to the after party." You look at her. "Baby-" Her head shakes. "There's no point if you won't be there." "Fins going to be there!" She goes to back that up. "With Claudia so I'll be basically third wheeling." You sigh gently. "Baby. Please go have fun." She lets out a small noise. "But I know I won't." You then go over to her, cupping her cheeks. "You don't know that, I'm sure Finneas and Claudia will make it fun."

She now sighs. "Fine fine. I'm gunna miss you though."

That leads you to now, you are laying on the couch, anxiously waiting for her to come back. You had just showered and gotten into your sleepwear, when the door swings open. "Baybeeee." Your brows knit together, turning your head to see Finneas holding her up right. "She drank a bit." He says pursing his lips. You giggle just slightly. "God she's annoying when she's drunk." He says plopping her on the couch. "I was gunna take her back to mine so you wouldn't have to deal with her, but you haven't seen her all day so I decided against it." You smile at him.

"Thanks Fin." He salutes. "Noo, problem." He says shutting the door and leaving to get into his car. "You so totally didn't have fun huh?" You laugh. "I most certainly- didn't. It was boooooring." She says, sinking into the couch. "I missed you." You smile. "I missed you too. I'm going to go get you some water." You say, heading to the kitchen. You try find a glass and fill it up when you feel hands on your waist. "You smell and look so good." She says into your neck. You shake your head a tiny bit. "Bil-" "God you smell amazing." She mumbles into your skin again.

You feel her teeth bite as she sucks. You let out a surprised moan. "Billie-" Your hands move to push her away lightly. "You're drunk baby." She looks at you from head to toe. "You aren't doing anything. It's meee, so it doesn't matter." She gets closer again. "Your breath reeks." Your giggle was to be heard as you keep her at bay. "God you're so fucking cute." She says going to kiss you. You must admit she was extremely hot right now. So you don't stop her.

Her lips were soft mixed with the taste of alcohol. Her hands were all over you as she gets incredibly grabby when drunk. "I love you. I missed you so much." She slurs against your lips. Her hands move to your side, fiddling just slightly with your robe having it almost fall. "Bill-" "Need you. Come on." You bite your lip as it slips off you. "Want a taste, please." You let out a shakey breath as she instantly drops to her knees. "Missed you so much." She kisses your inner thigh gently. "So. Much." You didn't feel real, she was even sexier when drunk. Her tongue feeling amazing.

"Your skin is so soft baby." She then says, moving up to your clothed pussy. Instantly making them drop down your legs. "Everywhere just smells so good fuck." And you feel her tongue finally. It being on you hastily. Your mind races with nothing but her and the feeling. If anything you were the one drunk. The way she always made you feel. "Mmm, Billie-" You moan out, putting your hands in her hair. She looks up at you, the most hungry eyes you've ever seen. You then watch them roll back as your walls tighten around her tongue.

She moans into you, gripping your hips tightly. And within seconds you're cumming hard on her tongue. She swallows everything drinking you dry.

"Now I'm drunk on you." You giggle as she comes up to your face. "I'm your alcohol."

"Yeah you are."

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp prompt #1: Angel

I'd like to preface this by saying I'm incorporating tropes I've seen in other posts.

~~~

Jason has been a lot happier recently. His Pit Rage has been getting less and less frequent, he's cooking and coming over to the manor a lot more, and he even let Dick hug him last week without threatening bodily harm!

The rest of the batfam, while happy for him, are curious about the change. So one night at dinner they ask him what's up with him and why he's so happy recently. Surprisingly, instead of taking it the wrong way and getting mad Jason is eager to share.

Apparently, Jason has a boyfriend now. Yay!

He goes on and on about this civilian he met after stoping a cult who was trying to summon a deity and how he is this nerdy college kid who really likes space and how their civilian identies shared the same Gen Ed course so he made an effort to become friends. Turns out that nerdy space guy had caused the initial improvement in mood and his offer to go on a date to an incredibly diverse and well-stocked library had been the cherry on top.

The only thing is that Jason didn't want them stalking the guy and refered to him around the family exclusively as "Angel". Everyone thinks that's just a cute pet name he gave the guy as a way to both reference and distract the civilian from the cult ritual he was probably rescued from. Little do they know that it's actually because "Angel" was not a victim of the cult ritual but the summonee, that appeared in the form of a biblically accurate angel.

One day some supernatural entity decideds to attack Gotham and everyone is calling whoever they can think of for back-up. Batman calls Constantine, Nightwing calls Zatana, Red Robin and Robin are contacting the Justice League, and even Red Hood seems to call someone.

The situation is getting desperate. The JL is here but at most the can just slow the supernatural being down. Constantine and Zatana are still 20 minutes out and things are looking bad when another Eldritch Being spawns and seems to take down the threat in one move.

Everyone stands stunned as the being turns to them and in a booming voice exclaims "DON'T BE AFRAID. I WAS CALLED TO HELP". They all go through several emotions upon hearing those words. Where did this being come from? Is this a biblically accurate angel? Who called it here to help? Was it Zatana or maybe Constantine? Are they here yet? Upon looking around it is found that Zatana and Constantine are not here yet and the heroes get ready to engage this being carefully when a voice calls out

"Angel!"

Everyone whips their heads around to see Jason climbing over debris towards the Eldritch Being in front of them. The Batfam feels faint with a creeping realization and Superman swears he heard Batman's heart skip a beat for a second. Before anyone can ask Jason what he's doing the being shapeshifts into the much smaller form of a young fae-like creature with pointed ears, fangs, stark white hair, and vibrant green eyes floating in the air. He flys over to Jason before a flash of bright light leaves a young man deep black hair and frosty blue eyes in Jason's arms.

Jason turns to introduce his boyfriend to his family and the League only to find that Batman has fainted, a panicking JL, and a gobsmacked Zatana and Constantine have who've arrived in time to see the transformation. As Zatana and Constantine begin to freak out and prepare defensive magic Batman comes to and levels a scowl at Jason.

"Hood, I think you have some explaining to do."

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.