#can't believe im posting about

[keefechambers]

When people critiqued me for pointing out James Somerton's suicide note was probably a DARVO tactic and not earnest I allowed them to have an opinion but during the days he was "dead" he was posting his own ass on a Twitter alt sooooo

[mingyusbinch]

REST IN PEACE, DEAR MOONBIN (1998-2023)

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion & Scratch: Compromising for Tav Affection

This idea is entirely from @nairil-daeris and it's so cute!

~

Despite what some may have believed, Astarion wasn't that against associating with animals. He was actually a fan of a few of them, cats mainly considering their penance for cleanliness and independence. Not to mention they were admittedly adorable. And stood as the one type of beast that Astarion never feasted upon.

So no, he didn't hate animals in principle. He only hated a select few, with reason. Like the type that could rip him apart with their claws and fangs. Or the ones that thought that rolling around in their own filth was a worthwhile pastime. All and all, creatures that Astarion didn't have to deal with on the regular. Or at least not until now.

But here he was, stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere, with his ragtag group of merry weirdos. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his own acceptance into your little group. He did, immensely. By the look of things out here in this hellscape, he probably would have been murdered ten times over if he had remained alone. Or gods forbid, become a goblin's chew toy.

So while he had no intentions of leaving, he was still frustrated. Especially with the pretty little druid that quickly became their de facto leader. Astarion had been vaguely aware that druids had an intense love for nature and all of its creatures. But that hadn't prepared him for how unreasonable that love could be. It felt as though you would take literally every opportunity you had to speak to any lowly pest on the side of the road.

Not to mention your insistence on taking care of a damned owlbear cub, which was an objectively stupid thing to do. Something that he should have fought you on harder but... he wasn't made of stone. The thing was objectively adorable. Even if it was almost certainly destined to grow up and try to kill you all, Astarion kept his mouth mostly shut.

But then came the dog. That god-damned dog. How a singular mutt could make his life so damn difficult, Astarion wasn't sure. But he did know that he was trying to enact a well-thought out plan. Seduce you, foster a protective affection that was strong enough for you to always want him alive, perhaps use you to defeat Cazador if the parasites proved strong enough, and then effectively abandon you for a new life of freedom.

It was all very simple, and he had gotten a great head start. You had spent the last few weeks flirting with each other, always staying close. You gravitated towards each other, a fact that felt more natural than Astarion would have liked. But... he had found himself enjoying his time with you, genuinely. Not that it mattered, but it was definitely a plus for his plan. Being with you was far from unbearable. You were attractive, sweet, a little angel just begging to be corrupted. A job that Astarion was growing excited to start.

He had been so, so close to fully propositioning you, completely confident that you would agree. And then Scratch happened. He hadn't thought much of it when you came across the little mutt. Maybe it would stay with the corpse of its owner or it would be another hanger-on like the owl bear. He hadn't had a horse in the race either way.

But then he did show up to the camp, looking so sad and dejected that even Astarion couldn't be bothered that his arrival completely interrupted his first attempt at asking you to bed. He had watched you pet and whisper to him for the rest of the night, providing a comfort that only a druid could.

Which was fine. Or at least it had been for that one night. That one night that kept repeating. Because suddenly, that damned dog was everywhere. The quiet nights the two of you had together by the fire, talking about anything and everything with your thighs pressed together now included Scratch squeezing himself into the middle.

The orchestrated moves he would do to make you blush, like removing a non-existent speck from your cheek with his thumb or leaning in close to remove a leaf from your hair, were getting harder and harder to pull off. The damned mongrel was always there, and any attempts Astarion took to get close to you Scratch used as an invitation to jump all over him. If he had it to wash his face of dog slobber one more time from the crime of trying to hold your hand, he was going to go ballistic.

And there was zero reprieve. The thing went with you everywhere, even in the most perilous of situations. Worst of all, it actually proved to be useful. Astarion had no idea where the thing was trained, but it was incredibly smart. Smart enough to serve as a perfect distraction when needed, while being clever and fast enough to never get himself killed. He could even function as a spy, considering how you could make sense of all of his whining and barking. And worst of all, the little beast was amazing at thievery, with nothing more than his mouth. No one suspected the adorable dog to be the one stealing your coin purse right off of your belt. He was completely inconspicuous, perhaps even more so than Astarion. A fact that... was not sitting well.

How on earth was he being outclassed by a fucking dog? One that he had no valid arguments to leave behind at camp.

And to top it all off, you even slept with it. You slept with both animals, usually huddled up in a pile beneath the stars. How you managed to not stink of dog breath and owlbear saliva in the morning, Astarion would never know.

How was he supposed to make you fall for him like this? In the past two weeks since you'd attached yourself completely to the thing, doting on him constantly. He had only managed to sleep with you once. The night of the celebration over the goblin slaughter, and what a lovely night it had been. But that was only because Scratch and the cub had been sufficiently distracted by all of the enamored tiefling children. The next night it was back to the same.

And Astarion was not willing to let the night you had together go as a one night stand. Maybe it wasn't necessary. It had become clear that you cared for him, you cared for all of them. Enough to put yourself in danger for every party member's protection. A strong friendship would probably do him just as good as a romance. But... that didn't feel like enough. He didn't want it to be enough. For reasons that he was not going to start examining now.

No, for now he was just focused on getting past your slobbery bodyguard. But he knew better than to bring it up to you directly. You were far too infatuated with the pup to see his side of things.

Gale had made a singular comment on a slight frustration over having to wait around for Scratch to sniff nearly everything he came into contact with, and that had ended in you giving him a half-hour lecture on the importance of understanding one's surroundings. Shadowheart had mentioned, once, just once, that perhaps it was time to start looking for a more appropriate family for the dog, and that had led to you giving her the cold shoulder for days.

No, if he was going to get more time alone with you Astarion would have to try other means. Which had led him here, swinging back a Potion of Animal Speaking with a grimace. It tasted oddly grassy, like he had just swallowed blended up lawn shavings. But he didn't have time to grouse over the taste, not when you were thoroughly distracted with talking about druid mythology with Halsin, Scratch left conveniently alone to dig holes in the back of camp.

And that was where Astarion was going. Because if he couldn't reason with you, perhaps he could reason with the mutt itself.

Part of him could not quite believe that he had to resort to speaking with a dog to further this relationship, but here he was.

Astarion stopped in front of him, swallowing back a grimace at how the thing was digging dirt directly on his shoes. Instead, he smiled down at it, his voice only slightly strained when he asked, "Can you understand me?"

Scratch stopped his digging, opting to sit and stare up at him, an oddly humanoid voice answering, "Yes."

Huh, so that's how this spell worked. It was a little disconcerting to hear a human voice from a dog's mouth, but he would make do. Astarion cautiously sat next to him, perching on a nearby log as he tried to keep a pleasant smile on his face, "Good. How are you?"

Scratch stared at him, his head cocked, "The dirt tastes good here. I like that."

That was... Astarion didn't know. It was his own fault for trying to make small talk with an animal. He cut straight to the point, "That's great to hear. Now, would you mind doing me a favor tonight?"

Astarion had never had a dog narrow its eyes at him before, but that's exactly what Scratch did, "What is it?"

"Nothing serious," Astarion tried to reassure, "I was just hoping that perhaps you and the cub could sneak off for a night so Tav and I could spend some time together-"

"No," Scratch interrupted circling the ground three times before laying down, his eyes still on Astarion.

"Excuse me?" Astarion shot back, his true annoyance shining straight through his voice, "It's not exactly much to ask for! It's one night-"

"I don't trust you around them," The dog said simply, "I think you're going to hurt them."

Well that was just offensive. Ever since this little brat's arrival Astarion had barely had a chance to drink from you. And the times he did he was perfectly in control. Not including the first time of course.

"I'll have you know that not every vampire is some hellish demon with no self-control," Astarion bit out, only the slightest bit amused at himself for being reduced to defending his own disgusting kind, "And why pray tell, would I hurt one of the only reasons I'm still alive."

Scratch shook his head, one eye closed like this conversation was boring him, "Not that kind of hurt. The inside kind, that makes people cry. I don't want them to cry."

That was-Astarion didn't-how in the hells could a dog see through him that easily?

"I have no intention of hurting them," Astarion lied. Or at least he thought it was a lie. It felt... uncomfortably true when spoken allowed, "I just want to have a little fun, that's all. Don't you think they've earned that?"

"Not with you. You don't like them enough," Scratch sighed, "I like Gale more. Or Wyll. Karlach too. They can have fun with them instead."

That was it. Astarion was going to wring this little shit's neck. But before he could give into his more violent impulses, he could hear your voice, calling out to the current root of all of his problems.

Scratch bounded up, his tail already wagging as he started to trot over. But before he fully did he turned around, giving Astarion a once over, "If you can prove you like them, then I'll consider it."

And just like that he was off, running to your side while leaving a stunned Astarion in his wake. Did... did he just get verbally annihilated by a damn dog? How was he supposed to go on after this? Not to mention he was actually thinking about what the creature said. It sounded like a challenge, one that Astarion was suddenly pissed enough to take up.

If the little shithead wanted sincerity, then he would get it. And that's how Astarion found himself willingly opening up more. Even if it had to be in front of the damn dog. He told you more about Cazador, the horrors and tribulations he had endured through centuries. He told you of his regrets, the things he missed the most about being a mortal. He even told you the truth about that first night that you let him drink from your neck. That... that you were the first. How good it had felt to have what he had been denied for so long. And he was rewarded with his honesty. He got to learn more and more about you in turn. Your family, your home, where you incessant love for nature derived from. He was starting to slowly become a Tav-expert, suddenly hungry for every bit of information that he could procure.

They were long conversations, long enough to last well into the night. And for Astarion to be exhausted enough to just... fall asleep in the first available location. Which just so happened to always be in the pile of creatures you liked to sleep with. Though, Astarion had to admit after experiencing it himself, it was oddly pleasant to be surrounded by the warm, furry little headaches.

As for the two of you, things were slowly progressing in regards to his plan. A plan that he continually kept conveniently forgetting about. You were together now at the least, even if Scratch hardly ever let you have a night alone. But you cuddled and kissed, called each other pet names and the like. And... it was nice. Perhaps even too nice. Because Astarion was starting to... feel things that he'd prefer to not.

He was getting too attached, too close. The idea of sex didn't even seem to matter anymore, let alone the idiocy of trying to convince a dog to help him in that department. He was knowing too much of you, and the fact that he seemed to adore everything he saw only made it worse. And then the two of you managed to kill that demon, getting more and more information about Cazador. You risked so much for him, and were willing to risk so much more. He couldn't take it anymore.

He had told you the next night, everything. His plan, his past, how easy it was to revert back into new tricks. But he didn't want that with you. Maybe he never did. He wanted something real, and by the gods above you wanted the same thing. He had half expected you to dump him completely after that little speech. But... you didn't. Instead you hugged him, comforted him for trying and failing to betray your trust. It was a kindness he didn't deserve, but one that he would gladly accept.

Everything felt easier after that. Yes there were still countless horrors hanging over your heads but... he had you. And with you he was starting to think he could get through anything.

Even Halsin's insistent flirting. He was watching you both now as you helped him nurse a dying sapling to health, his eyes tracking Halsin's every move as he pretended to read. While he trusted you more than anything, fully aware that you would never stray, it didn't stop the paranoia. Just one other aspect of being in a real relationship that he hadn't seen coming. Turns out, it involved being terrified of losing it all. Especially to handsome, bulky elf druids.

But before he could fret over it any longer, he felt a tugging on his pant leg. He glanced down, his brow furrowing when he saw Scratch there, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out.

"What the hell do you want?" Astarion asked, his words completely unmatching his actions as he scratched him behind the ears. Don't get him wrong, he still at least semi-loathed the creature but... he's also not quite sure he would have gotten to this point without his intervention. So a reluctant appreciation for his existence it was.

Scratch continued to paw at his leg, a low whine in his throat as he cocked his head to the right. Astarion followed the motion, only getting more confused when he realized he was trying to point to another potion.

Astarion sighed as he picked it up, “What? You want me to understand a new dressing down speech?”

Scratch continued to wag his tail, letting out a happy bark as a confirmation. As much as Astarion would prefer to not spend an evening getting lectured by a dog, he was more than a little curious to see what he had to say. 

He swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste as he wiped his mouth, “Okay, out with it. What do you want?”

"I like you now," Scratch said excitedly, prancing back and forth in front of him, "And they like you too. Do you like them?"

In moments like this, Astarion really did wish he had the heart of stone that he pretended to carry. Because the unexpected approval from a random pup was suddenly making him feel almost teary eyed. Or it was the bitter taste of the potion, but either way the innocent words were making his heart ache pleasantly. 

Astarion swallowed, smiling down at him, “I like them very much. More than anyone before. And I’m starting to think you might not be so bad either.”

Scratch sat in front of him, resting his head in his lap as his tail wagged, a goofy smile on his adorable face, “It’s because I’m a good boy. They tell me so all the time. Are we friends now? We are right?”

“Yeah,” Astarion smiled as he ran a hand through his white coat, his eyes drifting over to you. You were watching them, grinning ear to ear with a hand over your heart, nearly moments away from swooning. He looked back down at the dog, his smile only widening, “We’re going to be great friends.”

[courtmartialme]

woag .. otp

[atalana]

HE PUT. MY BOY. IN A CUBE.

[anewp0tat0]

it doesn't feel real to me fellas. but I don't have time to sit by and chat and unload unfortunately so I'll just drop this and be on my way, cya kind folks very soon ✌️

not professional but I liked how his eye looked goddang it. I knew I was screwing myself but I did it anyway

[ifellintothestyx]

The funny thing about JC defenders is that they always try to argue that JC refusing to cover the Wens and side with WWX was the correct political move. In the short term, perhaps, but in the long term, that was proven wrong in the books themselves.

(It's even funnier thinking that correct political moves exist in a bullshit political system that blatantly serves only the gentry, is held together by hearsay and rumors, and has no actual system of laws that can serve as a basis to accuse, judge, or punish someone.)

So how was JC's refusal to side with WWX and the Wens considered the "correct political move"? Reasons include that the Jiang sect was still recovering from the war, that going against the Jins would result in another war that would end in major losses on the Jiang sect's side, and that the Wens weren't and shouldn't have been a priority for JC at all.

Let's clear a few things up. The Jiang clan was not the only clan recovering, so were the Nies and the Lans. In the aftermath of the war, it's not explicitly stated how well the other sects were doing, so we couldn't really tell if the Jiangs were worse off than the other three. It could be noted, however, that the Jins retained much of their wealth and influence, so much so that Jin Guangyao was able to take the position of Chief Cultivator with little to no opposition. The main point, though, is that at that moment in the aftermath of the war, we could not easily assume the Jiangs were the worst off, as the other three sects also lost many disciples in the war, and we didn't really know how much the other sects recovered.

For the second reason, if a major war somehow did happen again, this time Jiangs vs everyone else, everyone else would lose. WWX's presence single-handedly helped them win the war against the Wens. A war between the Jiangs and the jianghu would be based on numbers, which reflects the war between the Wens and the jianghu. The Wens had more disciples, and no matter how many LWJs or NMJs you got up your sleeve, numbers make a big difference in war. That's why WWX's skills were a critical part in winning: he is a one-man army of thousands. He could easily make up for the gap in numbers. That's why the Jins kept trying to get rid of him—they were nervous about so much power belonging to only one faction: the Jiangs. JGS couldn't exactly claim his desired role as Chief Cultivator if a younger, smarter, and more powerful individual was still around to keep him in check.

Finally, we get to the part of why I'm making this long-ass post on a caffeine-driven rage. See, the point of trying to stop a powerful faction from committing atrocities is to stop them from thinking they can do it whenever they like. The Jins were given a pass to do whatever the hell they wanted to a small, outcasted faction (the Wens), and they proceeded to take that pass as a pass for everything else. Nobody stopped them from torturing the Wens, so what's stopping them from allowing a mass murderer like XY to run wild in an attempt to create their own WWX? Definitely not NMJ, hahaha, because, y'know, the hypocrites in the gentry have already decided that whatever the Jins do is alright so long as it's not their problem. An exterminated clan isn't their priority. So, what was stopping XY from going out and doing it again to SL's sect? Absolutely nothing! Because the Jins could cover it up and no one could say a word despite how suspicious it was, because hey, remember what happened to the last guy that spoke up against the Jins?

Calling out the Jins on their crimes against the Wens, who were elderly and children save for WQ and WN (who JC owed his damn life and core to), would have created a precedent of not allowing massive crimes to slide under the radar. But because the opposite happened, because nobody fucking realized that apathy and selfishness don't fucking help in the long run, two sects were exterminated because JGS and JGY were basically given an "okay, fine, just keep that bullshit away from us". That's not actual justice. That's not "morally grey". Allowing people in power to trample over others just because it doesn't affect you personally is not sustainable, because what happens when it's you they've decided to trample over? Are you going to complain? Are you going to look to others for help, when you personally couldn't be bothered to offer your hand to those who suffered? When the reason the people trampling over you gained that power is because you allowed it?

The unopposed killing of WWX and the Wens led to the political climate that allowed the massacres of two sects because the Jins were trying to protect and satisfy their pet project. It led to the murder of NMJ because JGS/JGY wanted to keep people from checking their power. If JC couldn't find it in his heart to be sympathetic to the Wens, fine, but at the very least, he should have considered the potential harm in rolling over and giving a political faction too much power.

[inkskinned]

maybe i'm a bitch but if i hear you go out of your way to judge someone's weight, i immediately lose trust in you & will probably forever find you a little unbearable . yes also the little floating bar over my head will start reading [hostile]. this is natural and u caused it.

[skrunksthatwunk]

thinking about how eiji's a pole vaulter and how ash talks about eiji "flying" and how eiji's associated with bird imagery and how eiji's free (unlike ash) and how eiji comes in on a plane and leaves on a plane and how ash cannot fly, ash cannot be free, how nyc is ash's prison, and how ash is the leopard who dies climbing the mountain, unable to live at such elevation, how he was trying to reach the sky and be free but was always stuck to the earth, how he chose to die instead of climbing back down, how he chose to die where he could see the sky and hope and freedom almost like a bird with eiji's letter right in front of him rather than letting everything go wrong and ruin it once again, how eiji's a failed pole vaulter anyway, how a bad fall ruined his career and grounded him (physically and emotionally), how it took flying to america and meeting ash and needing to save him and skip for him to try flying again, how he landed hard and harsh and still the thought of that escape compelled ash to protect eiji at all costs because if he could fly that means something to him, even if he doesn't think he can fly, how eiji is the manifestation of his hope and how when he breaks and asks eiji to stay with him a while he folds himself over his legs and weighs him down and traps him and grounds him, how ash fights like hell to keep eiji alive not because he thinks he can be like him (hopeful, flying, innocent), but because he makes him forget the gravity of his situation, and so he can see eiji fly again. how he wants to see him escape. how eiji is a bird and ash is a wildcat and how ash never once saw eiji as prey. how eiji never saw ash as a predator. how it is eiji's naivete that first endears ash to him, how it is his freedom and flight and removal from darkness and his ability to leave that darkness that really roots eiji in ash's blood as something essential to him keeping on living in this hell of nyc. how it is that distance from the violence and that hope for the future that ash chooses to surround himself in as he dies. how ash dies in a dream because he feels more than anything that he can't fly like eiji, that he can never leave. how his violence is a part of him and will be forever, how it weighs him down. how he wants to enjoy the view from the mountainside rather than looking up from the ground below. as if they can both fly. as if he is with him up there and not grounded. eye-to-eye with what he can't have, seeing eiji's homeland: the sky. how he dies trying to reach the top because he couldn't take retreating and trying again. how ash, tired and tired and tired and convinced it will go on forever if he crawls back down the mountain, chooses to close his life deluged in eiji, in eiji's insistence that they can fly together, in eiji's hope for him and for them, in eiji's beautiful dream. how ash dies without trying to realize that dream. how ash, in dying, destroys it.

[pinacoladamatata]

another from the archives🥲 She's a menace <3

[soft4gguk]

🤍

hi. if you’re seeing this, it’s because it left my drafts. and because i’ve finished chapter twelve of to build a home. as i write this right now, continuing this story is only an idea. a quite recent one, actually. maybe a couple of minutes old. i came back to the place where i wrote the very first chapters of to build a home. i sat in the same table and it was hot and sunny and all the memories of coming up with this story came back to me and it was quite immediate. i was itching to write. the thing is, i haven’t written in a long time. but it makes me so, so happy. and i’m trying to get familiar with the things that make me happy again. also, i thought i was going to be much better at writing this message but the truth is, im kind of nervous. i feel like, if i can’t even write this, could i actually keep writing a whole story? perhaps i just need to get familiar with it again, and if you’re reading this, i did. and i’m so very happy i did. i’m sorry for being gone for so long and leaving you guys hanging. but i also want to say that i am so grateful. i never deleted the app off my phone. i saw how every day, even if it was just one person, someone would read or interact with my writing. and i can’t even find words to describe how that makes me feel. thank you. i love you. so, so much.

to build a home coming back sunday the 14th of july @ 9 pm CET 🤍 (in less than 24 hrs aaaah)

[cosmicrhetoric]

zoro and kiku's whole thing was so fun and endearing :) like never underestimate the besties potential of a Hater and a 12 ft tall swordswoman that he keeps bullying into breaking her cover. but when he saw her severed arm flop down 100 feet from the roof in onigashima and just went fuuuuuuuuck. kiku. can someone toss me up there i think my girl just got maimed

[starry-bi-sky]

i have... ✨Danyal Al Ghul Headcanons✨ but specifically for my yaelokre danyal oneshot

There's also the tumblr post here but I recommend the link in the title because its the ao3 version, and that one is edited and has some stuff in it that's not in the tumblr post, and will be the version I'm using.

So for summary: this Danyal is also from a Demon Siblings Au where Danny is five years older than Damian. However, things turned out a bit differently, and Danny and Damian had a fantastic relationship with one another. Danny loved music and regularly came up with songs to sing to Damian with. Specifically the folk band Yaelokre's EP "Hayfields" (seriously go fucking listen to it its sooo good. Harpy Hare is the second song but its my favorite. Special shoutout to @gascansposts for introducing the band to me)

He falls off a train when he's twelve and Damian is seven while the two of them and Talia are on mission. He ends up with magically induced amnesia and wakes up in Arkansas while the Fentons are on their yearly Divorce-iversary visit to Aunt Alica, and since he can only remember his name, he ends up being taken into their care.

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

Yaelokre Danny has the same facial scar as Things in Threes Danyal, since he was initially another version of him where things turned out better. I'm debating on whether or not I should take it away however, and give him a different scar (maybe from when he fell off the train?), just because the scar is a pretty key identifier for Ti3 Danyal.

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

Danny frequently visits Aunt Alicia in Arkansas! Well, only after he gets settled in and stuff. He doesn't really like the city that much and prefers the countryside where Alicia lives. I know she lives in a cabin but I'm changing it to a farm, so she puts Danny to work and gets him to help her.

I don't want to confine his hobbies to only being star stuff, because people tend to have more than one hobby and I feel like it reduces him to one-dimensionality, so he likes to garden, and learns guitar. His room becomes filled with plants, and he turns their roof into a rooftop greenhouse right below to OPS Center.

He has a complex relationship with the weapons from his past, but he's not... like... appalled by it? When he finds his weapons in the Fenton attic all he thinks is that they're his weapons, and he starts carrying a knife on him afterwards. Essentially he becomes fascinated with weaponry because its one of the few physical ties he has to his past, and while he's not training like he is in the League, he allows his strong muscle memory to guide him through his katas.

Danny likes climbing things. This causes Problems For Everyone Else.

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

Danny was not the "kinder Al Ghul" in the League. His kindness extended to his brother and family, and that's it. To everyone else he had high expectations out of them, and the pride you'd expect from the grandson of Ra's Al Ghul and trained by its top members. While he wasn't like, unnecessarily cruel or anything, he wasn't merciful either.

This transfers post-train fall as him coming off as no-nonsense and unforgiving. He's not fond of the idea of giving people second chances, and is skeptical of the idea. He's disgusted by incompetency and views it as an unforgivable offense, especially if he thinks that the person should know better, although he's not sure why. Some egocentrism for the soul.

He doesn't like being touched by anyone who isn't family, and gets irritated when anyone grabs him or holds onto him for extended amounts of time. Dash has gotten hit so many times. With Jack Fenton's tendency for abrupt physical affection, it doesn't make it any better. I'd argue it'd make it worse because Danny doesn't want to be touched more often than not.

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

Danyal had a red scarf in the League that he wore on his last mission, it came off before he fell off and caught itself on the roof. Damian still has it and took it with him to Wayne Manor. He's got it locked in his room and takes it out when he's alone and missing Danny the most. One time he forgot to put it away before leaving his room, and Dick was visiting the manor for something and found it. Damian found him holding it and freaked out.

Dick could only say "I've never seen you wear this, Damian, this is really pretty--" before Damian shoved him to the floor and stole it out of his hands, before screaming at him; "Don't touch this! You don't ever touch this! This is mine! You hear me!?"

It caused such a commotion that the rest of the family present came to see what the fuss was about, and Damian kicked them all out of his room. Dick is the one brother Damian's the closest with, so the fact he reacted so strongly shocked them all.

This is likely what leads to the "Danyal" conversation.

[ace-geographer]

Hey everyone, may I offer you all some text post memes in these trying times?

Part 10/?

[sappymix1]

I don't wanna fucking talk about it

George’s hair smells like raspberries, and smoke. You want a cigarette. You don’t smoke, but you want a fucking cigarette. Want something you can press your teeth too that’s not a firm, cracked lip or the thin scrapped up skin on the inside of your own. Want something to wrap your lips around that isn’t – well. You’ve never even fucked. Not that that’s the same thing necessarily – is it? – but it’s a step. But you haven’t, really. That seems like it shouldn’t matter, when every hand that’s ever touched you you remember as his.

George smells like raspberries and smoke and you wonder if he even knows that you’re thinking about all the self destructive paths that you would let him drag you down. The damn DNF bluff – you make each other better. You can make each other a hell of a lot worse with one brush of your hand on his hip bone and one wide eyed gaze filled with heavy brown directed at you like a fucking loaded gun. You didn’t know if the finger on the trigger was yours or his. You didn’t know which one of you would pull it faster. George was always so careful with the way he moved. You were careful with the way you did, too, when it came to him. You wouldn’t point the gun at him, not that that made much of a difference in the end.

Maybe you were the problem. You could probably kiss him, right now. You had done it before. You had done it on this couch, the scratchy fabric rough against your knees and the space where your palms met your wrists. Kissing George wasn’t anything new; it was just the thing you did when you were lonely – that’s mean – or bored – that’s mean and untrue – and you felt a little bit brave. You weren’t brave. You really weren’t. If you were, you would have told him that you liked the smell of his raspberry shampoo and you would have told him that everyone else is just him too. You would have told him that you weren’t fucking friends and you wouldn’t have layered it under a million other things. 

Maybe you were the problem because you kissed him all the time, except you couldn’t right now because all that you could think about was the way that the glow of the fire that Sapnap had labored over had made his eyes and his hair burn orange. You could love him. You do, but you could too. Maybe you were the problem because you had had the conversation before and you knew that it was your responsibility, because you knew him. You knew what he was like.

Maybe that was where George was the problem. The inability to bring it up, the way that he wouldn’t push without you leading the way. When his fingers found your skin, found the rough skin of your cheeks while you searched the smooth skin of the back of his neck, you thought about marriage. You’d talked about marriage. You wished that you could be there already. Then and now, you wish that you could be there already. Just skip this, skip having to commit to anything, and just be in the happy ending. Your imaginary fingers on his neck brush a thin strip of very real metal. You’d waited so long. Maybe you had both just gotten used to it, and that was why you couldn’t jump.

Maybe George was the problem, but how could you ask him to change? How could you ask him to change when he was sprawled out on the couch and he was the most beautiful person that you had ever seen and his hair smelled like raspberries and smoke and you could feel your hands shaking. 

You should do it now. Just tell him what you want, because you know he wants it too. It’s been a good day. You’re happy, and you can tell by the tilt of his neck that he is too. You know him like you know a keyboard, the layout of the apps on your phone. Your fingers find the spots that make him happy and it’s so expected that you don’t have to talk about it. You need to talk about it. He needs to bring it up. You need to talk about it.

Your hands are shaking and you need a cigarette, and when George looks up at you, you know they should shake worse, but they don’t. You feel empty. You feel so full that there’s no space for anything else. You should talk about it. When George looks at you, your hand finds his, and he smiles like that’s what’s supposed to happen next. 

“I’m too sleepy to walk all the way to my room,” he says, and he blinks in a way that makes you think for a second that he knows what he’s doing, that he does this on purpose, but then he blinks again and you’re less sure. You read him like you have a direct link to his brain, but sometimes you think he doesn’t know what he’s thinking either, or he’s trying hard enough to convince himself that he doesn’t that, for you, it’s functionally the same thing. You should tell him. “Bring me with you.”

He’s your best friend. He’s supposed to be your best friend. You sleep better to the sound of his stilted breath and the way that he talks in his sleep and the feeling of his legs knocking against yours. You should nudge him awake and shuffle him to his room, tell him to sleep well because he’s your best fucking friend. You should kiss him until neither of you can breathe and you die the way that you were always supposed to. 

He’s your best friend. You’re the problem, you think, and maybe he is too. His feet are freezing against your legs and the heaviness in your chest makes it so that you don’t fall asleep until long after his breathing across from you has evened out. You can still smell the smoke from the fire, and the sweet scent of his raspberry shampoo.

[skitskatdacat63]

Vettonso x Similar Helmets

SV Germany 2012 x FA Monaco 2013: Gold & Dark Red

I think a lot about Vettonso and their mutual relationship witn gold. They're both golden boys, they're both seen lit gold by the sunshine on many podiums throughout the years, both have worn golden boots, and as you can see here: both have worn golden helmets. The parallels in these particular helmets makes me feel insane. Both are: gold with dark red accents, both have their birthplace's coat of arms(Bergstraße and Asturias), both have team animal motifs, and both have symbols to represent their two championships(You by now know the signifigance of the ones on Fernando's helmet, but I think the ones on Seb's are actually a callback to his Formula BMW days when he used to put the smiley stickers on his car for every win.)

And did you know both of these helmets were designed by the same helmet design company? Yep, both of these are JMD helmets. I know JMD helmets are/were pretty popular, but still, there's something to me about Fernando commissioning the same designer that Seb has been using since he was a literal child. Parallels, am I right?

SV Japan 2010 x FA Japan 2023: White with Black & Red

Haha I remember @protocolseben and I discussing this a bit back in September when Fernando's helmet dropped. I honestly think Seb is such an innovator and trailblazer in terms of helmet design, and you can see his influence in helmet design as recently as this past season. I'm not sure if he was the first ever driver to don a matte white helmet with red accents as a representation of the Japanese flag, but it certainly envoked him in my mind when I saw Fernando's!!

I think Fernando's is pretty similar to all of Seb's 2010-2012 Japan helmets but I like this one the most so! I think if Seb wasn't restrained by the Red Bull logo, he def wouldv'e put the red circle where Nando put his so I think Fernando did a really good job, even if unintentionally, at emulating Seb's sense of design.

SV Singapore 2012 x FA Singapore 2012: Sparkly!

Like I said in the one above, it's crazy how much Seb influenced helmet design. He was pretty much the pioneer of sparkly helmets for Singapore, right? It drives me absolutely insane that there's actually pictures of them together in such similar designed helmets. It's kinda funny actually that even though they're pretty deep in the championship fight at this point, and Seb just got one up on Fernando; Fernando is wearing a helmet that is a direct influence from Seb!!! Is that not insane???

Also, Fernando trying to be camp with trying the now in vogue sparkly Singapore helmet, and Seb accidentally completely blew him out of the water with his outrageous light up LED constellation helmet. But god yeah....to have pics of them in matching helmets from this era particuarly makes me emotional ;;;

SV Hungary 2021 x FA 2022: Pink with Dark Blue

I really could've picked any of Seb's 2021 helmets, but I thought this one matched the best with Fernando's main 2021 helmet(with the color pallet.) Also one thing, it's crazy how much control BWT has as a sponsor, I don't think I've ever seen another sponsor go so hard at having a chokehold on individuality. I like that we got pink liveries and pink helmets, but I don't think they should have that much control.

I'm almost kinda sad there wasn't any Miami GP in 2021, because I think that was the only unique helmet Fernando had in 2022. But these match pretty well! Pretty in pink!! It's crazy that their parallels in the 2020s are ongoing even before Fernando actually takes over Seb's seat. Thanks BWT I guess?

SV Abu Dhabi 2022 x FA Abu Dhabi 2022: Fernando's Seb Tribute Helmet

AND HERE WE HAVE THE PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE!!! The ultimate conclusion, it literally couldn't get better than this!! This is still unbelievable, like how is this an actual thing that happened!? Fernando intentionally branding his helmet, the only symbol of individuality in F1, with his rival's flag colors, HIS FLAG!!!!! Not to mention the literal "Vettono Best Moments" collage he posted alongside it....and the hand-holding....and everything that happened with them at Abu Dhabi 2022....

But god, after years of incidentally making parallel helmet designs, Fernando decided to officially tie the knot of the red string of fate, and make a helmet directly referencing Seb's. I think it's funny because as I said with two of the previously mentioned ones, those Fernando designs are pretty much inspired by Seb's, and here he is openly making one directly inspired by Seb. I don't really have words for how this actually makes me feel because it's just. Yeah. The most open and clear declaration of love and respect and admiration one could ever make. TO ME.