#but you can get away with it for now

[latibvles]

could i please request #4 "the promise" for genevieve and bucky, pls and thank you? <3 — @shoshiwrites

this one whacked me in my feelings completely on accident. the fun part about prompts is I can drop them anywhere! anyways this isn't... spicy per se, but there is definitely a lack of clothes. The inbox is open! Send me prompts!

—

##THE PROMISE — GENEVIEVE & BUCKY

There is the first time Bucky tells her about an impending mission, and then the first time Gen worries about him going up there.

Full disclosure isn’t a requirement of their arrangement (and she’d hardly call it an arrangement at all. It’s not a thing they really talk about. Her lips just happen to find his at the end of the night more often than not). He rarely ever talks about it when he comes down, let alone telling her when he’s going to go up. But the first time he tells her, it comes across like every other word he says: a flirt, a tease, laced with a try not to miss me and a wink.

This time, he’s sprawled out on her bed, all long legs and a pleased grin. He’s a vision, really — something straight out of a painting, down to the way her sheet drapes over him and keeps him modest. All he lacks is Cupid crowning his head with a wreath of flowers, and she thinks her lute playing would be subpar at best. He may not be Venus, but he’s pretty close to it. Even as he rises, leaning over the edge to pull his pants back on. He turns back to her for a moment, and his smile grows.

“Something on my face?” Bait.

“You stare at me all night long, I’m allowed to return the favor, am I not?” She grins as he turns further, caging her.

“Oh so that’s what this is? A favor?”

“Well then what would you call it, Major?” The hand not placed precariously by her head goes to curl around her dark tresses, slipping between his fingers.

“Well I think you just like lookin’ at me. I mean, that’s why I’m starin’,” He pauses for a moment, with her hair still coiled around his fingers, eyes tracking his own hand, then her eyes, all the way down to the column of her neck before meeting hers again, lips pressing into a line. She can feel something in the air shift. “Not a lot of pretty things up there, y’know? Unless clouds are your thing.” He tilts his head up and towards the corner of her room, with all of her drawings taped to the walls — angular figures in outfits of faded colored pencil. He already knew the answer even before he made the statement.

It almost sounds like a lament.

Genevieve reaches up, lets her hand brush up against the roughness of his cheek — curious, more than anything.

He tilts his head until his lips brush up against her palm.

“We’re going up again in a couple days.”

She feels considerably more flushed than she was moments prior. Being under him is one thing, having his kiss pressed against her hand as he tells her this is another. Intimate. Nothing about their not-quite-arrangement demanded actual intimacy. Maybe it could. Maybe he wants it to. And then, the million-dollar question of all, but what do you want?

“For how long?” Genevieve doesn’t know why she asks the question as opposed to avoiding the subject. She could’ve gotten away with any other response, really, rather than prolong this. Her hand still up against his cheek, the corner of his mouth brushing against her skin on every word. And Bucky is staring at her, and knowing that he’s taking her in makes her stomach churn, makes her lips press into a line.

“All day, not overnight, I don’t think,” he reaches up to brush some of her hair from her forehead. “Be back before you know it. Promise.”

She almost wishes he hadn’t said that word so easily. Promises, disclosure, intimacy, nothing she expected to really take center stage — and maybe he doesn’t either, because the laser-focused expression breaks in exchange for another one of his grins, and he’s reaching up to take her hand and press it above her head above the pillow. She wants to challenge the word, why he said it, in the same way he had with favor just a few moments ago, but she doesn’t.

“I’ll be here, then,” is what Genevieve offers instead, and there’s something about the way he smiles at her response that makes her want to stare at him just like he’s done to her countless times before.

[perrieedwards]

i feel like people are skimming over the uk riots in a way that makes me want to tear my hair out. muslims in the uk are in active danger. immigrants in the uk are in active danger. refugees in the uk are in active danger. people of colour in the uk are in active danger. asian communities in the uk are in active danger. black communities in the uk are in active danger.

there are massive far right riots throughout the country right now and people like fucking elon musk and nigel farage are inciting it and still have a platform to speak. people have used three young girls deaths, people's genuine grief in southport, to try and gain traction for their own racist bullshit and it's working.

a lot of refugee charities have been forced to close leaving many people without support, homes, funding, food, etc. if you aren't able to donate please consider sending a message via the conversation over borders campaign! it will send a hopeful, welcoming letter to a refugee in the uk. there is also a guide to staying safe here.

please do your own research and donate to refugee charities, anti-islamophobia charities, mosques who are trying to rebuild after being destroyed, counter protesters, here are some i've heard positive things about but the list is extensive; southport strong together (support for the southport victims and their families), southport mosque rebuilding, riot repair fund, middlesbrough vulnerable residents, nasir mosque rebuilding, hull help for refugees, bristol welcomes migrants,

[littlefankingdom]

Dick who climbed on anything as a child. Even in public, especially in public. The moment Bruce looks away, he is climbing something to get as high as possible. The first times, it gave Bruce an heart attack. Now, it's just a headache.

People pass by and ask if they should call the firefighters, and Bruce tiredly tell them "He is fine, he can get down on his own.", like people with cats.

Imagine, you're walking out of some building, only to see a 10 years old standing on top of a lamppost, having a discussion with his dad guardian at the bottom.

"Dick, get down."

"Make me."

"Get down or you're grounded."

[butterflyscribbles]

First words💬

Hard to say where he got them from though idk…

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This wine tastes like pigs blood!

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[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[stil-lindigo]

the machine.

a comic about being a 'creator' online.

creative notes:

[ghostbsuter]

Danny had been around Gotham for a while.

The crime was never ending, but since Batman's arrival, it had gotten better.

The unmistakably CLANK! From around the corner had him jump, wary now. The man walks around the wall, eyes on the black car with— with Batman's symbol at the front.

A child sitting on the ground with a car tire next to him, the Bat Symbol a stark contrast to the shadows.

"Shit, kid. You're bold to rob Batman." Danny didn't really realise he was speaking until the kid looks up, spooked.

"What the fuck?" The kid was clearly of Gotham breed, yelps with a glare.

"I'm impressed," Danny doesn't give the kid the chance to talk, not with the way the tiny terror seems to be glaring and holding his wrench.

"You're quick, got eyes for details and know how to work around cars."

The suspicion in the kids eyes didn't lessen, having gotten up to press himself against the wall, eyes never leaving Danny.

"Here," Our local spook threw a card on the hood of the car. It was his business card.

"If you need income with far fewer risks than stealing from Batman, call me."

He didn't really wait to see the kids reaction, just leaving, bot before shooting a look into the sky the kid clearly caught.

As danny left, the kid looked at the entrance of the alleyway, back to the car, and then to the card.

They had talked for too long. Jason had to leave now, lest Batman actually caught him.

With one last look to the tires and the car, he leaves eith a scowl.

Just barely missing the man with the cape.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 47

Hear me out. Amity Park gets shifted in universes slightly- maybe it’s from Pariah, maybe it was a wish, maybe they did so on purpose to escape something- and they end up in the DC-verse. The thing is, thanks to the media blackout and the shields, no one in the new universe notices. The Amityville Paekers know about outside, can go on the internet and leave whenever they want, but they’ve all become more than a little liminal. More than a little off. Movements too graceful, eyes too sharp, ears too pointed and teeth more akin to predatory fangs. Skin with a soft glow, hair moving as though underwater or being tussled by the wind- bodies seemingly unaging after a certain point. They’re so ecto-contaminated that they’re unsure they can even be counted as human anymore, and it wasn’t like the city wasn’t already practically self sufficient. Add in a portal or two through the Infinite Realms to get supplies to start a few fields or some fish farms and well, they’re pretty good. Sure it’s resulted in them using a mixture of modern and older money and having several extinct plants and animals running around but that’s fine. There’s magic in this world! Actual magic, that they can learn! And use? Oh this makes rebuilding after a sparring incident go so much faster! 

This results in the hero who stumbles across this place to believe they’ve stumbled across some sort of city of fae or elves. 

[justaz]

merlin (immortal) giving arthur (pendragon) the only blade that could kill him

[im-smart-i-swear]

coming back home.

@barrenclan

[reksink]

Beloved Residents of Dirtmouth (And Quirrel 👍)

[vigilskeep]

when you first start the cousland origin, you can have some conversations with arl howe, teyrn cousland, and duncan that shed some interesting light on the political situation in ferelden. it’s definitely the origin where you get the most context on the rebellion and on cailan and his father. while howe isn’t exactly the most trustworthy of sources, he is also one of the most openly critical of cailan that we have access to, which i think is worthy of interest

howe remembers maric with what the toolset describes as “genuine fondness”: “your father hasn’t spoken of our time with him? that man took care of his friends. as they say, he was large as life and twice as tall!” i think we should pay particular attention to that man took care of his friends.

what howe’s talking about is a really important aspect of kingship, where you win the consent and enthusiasm of the nobility for your rule by offering rewards like wealth, land, and prestige to the loyal. kingship is always less stable than it’s portrayed, and this is one of the ways that kings must essentially sell to the nobility that answering to them is worth their time, which would be especially important in ferelden given everything we know about its culture. fereldans believe someone only has power when it is given by the loyalty of those below them, who have the right to freely rescind that loyalty. the dao codex says that “the sight of [fereldan kings] asking for—and working to win—the support of ‘lesser’ men is a source of constant wonder to foreign ambassadors.”

i suspect howe is remembering a maric fresh from the victories of the rebellion, who was able to reward those who had followed him with the spoils of those victories. at the end of the stolen throne, we see that in the final days of the rebellion, maric was killing those who had betrayed his mother to the orlesians even when they arrived under truce to meet him on holy ground. in dao, we see no lingering orlesian nobility except for those who married in and continue to be met with marked hostility. i think we can safely surmise that maric elected to make no conciliatory measures and give everything to those who had followed him; with the orlesians on the run and his people out for blood, he was in a strong enough position to do so, and it certainly served to win the fond memories of men like howe.

by contrast, howe goes on to say, “it’s too bad cailan isn’t half that.” the toolset notes establish very clearly that it’s the same issue, elaborating on howe’s thoughts: “bitter turn, i don’t get as much from the current king”, and “disdainful, i have no use for him, he does me no favours”. this isn’t a minor character detail, if howe’s last words when killed by the player are anything to go by. “maker spit on you... i deserved... more...” whatever it is that howe feels he should have been given, by the crown or anyone else, it characterises his actions and his defining treachery.

it’s in these same conversations that we see another side of this demonstrated. there are two points where howe can openly criticise the king, and bryce immediately admonishes him for both. one even has the toolset note: “speaks sharply, as a lord to a lesser man, not a friend to an equal”. it definitely comes across that way; the way he tells howe “that’s enough” is not far off the voice he uses when the player, his child, displeases him. bryce can’t tolerate any criticism of cailan, as the couslands in dao are ardent supporters of the king. to venture some hc, i suspect that this is not merely royalist fervour, and that howe’s resentment for having been given less is matched by bryce’s awareness of the precariousness of having more.

over the centuries, the theirins have consolidated their power and eradicated almost all the teyrns (the noble rank that is second only to the king). with the only other lingering teyrn being loghain, who is essentially part and parcel of the royal family, the couslands stand alone as the only real rivals to theirin power within ferelden. there are rumours that bryce was once considered for king instead of the theirins; he too could have decided to believe he “deserved more”. but unlike howe, and perhaps understandably given his strong position and happy growing family, he is satisfied with what he has. he will not take the risk of even the slightest challenge being made within his hall

(i expect that bryce’s satisfaction with the current situation further spurred howe’s dissatisfaction to its heights, given the complicated cousland-howe history and the fact that he was expected to accept a friend he had fought beside as a superior for the rest of his life.)

i don’t think howe’s judgement on cailan is likely to be without basis. we don’t hear about any victories the young king has to his name, from which he could have passed around spoils. (to be fair, cailan had harder luck than maric in this regard. a king who raises a successful rebellion gets to bring glory and prestige to everyone who follows him, whereas a king trying to rebuild after that rebellion mostly gets to bring, uh, taxes probably. especially on wealthy centres of trade like howe’s amaranthine, one might assume.) cailan also takes a far more diplomatic approach to the question of orlais, which perhaps predictably did not win over many nobles of howe’s generation. it makes sense that cailan’s strongest supporters would instead be men like bryce who hope for things to simply continue, peacefully, as they are. perhaps in another world where cailan had won the battle of ostagar, he might have earned wider respect. (you could actually argue on this basis that there’s more sense and purpose to cailan’s glory-seeking than he usually gets credit for.) but howe already acts before ostagar, which can only demonstrate his certainty in cailan’s failings at this point: his belief that even if cailan could win, he would not be stable enough to pursue justice for the couslands

[lav3nder-bees]

happy february to them and absolutely nobody else

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good morning, Sleepyhead.

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[sentientstump]

goodbye waynehouse, i have a job now