#feeling like caleb rn

[br3adindadung3on]

how i miss you mr. thelyss….

[cross-d-a]

something something about Caleb Dume surviving the genocide of his people and divorcing himself from his culture and remaking himself entirely in order to survive

and something something about orphaned Ezra Bridger who loves Lothal but doesn’t quite belong being adopted into a self-made-cobbled-together family of outcasts from multiple cultures

and something something about Kanan choosing to embrace his culture and religion again despite his fear and the risk it brings to him and his family

and something something about Ezra embracing that culture as whole-heartedly as he can when so much of it has been lost

and something something about both of being denied the ability to practice certain aspects of their religion because otherwise they might be killed for it

and something something about Kanan remembering how Master Billaba carefully sheared his hair and oh so reverently plaited his Padawan braid and held it gently between her fingertips and told him she would do right by him and told him not to be afraid and told him she would be there for him until her dying breath and beyond and told him that he was going to be a great Jedi Knight one day and told him “you are our future youngling and I will do everything in my power to protect that future”

and something something about Kanan looking at Ezra’s wild hair with something hollow and aching tucked between his ribs because he longs to show Ezra the devotion his Master showed him and her Master showed before her and his Master before him but it’s not safe to gently plait that Padawan braid behind Ezra’s ear because such a sign of devotion will mean death and Kanan can only hope that Ezra understands how much Kanan loves him and how much Kanan is proud of him and how much hope and life he sees in his Padawan because while that Padawan braid may be the physical link between future and past tying together generations of Masters and Padawans who have lived and loved and passed on because “we are what they grow beyond”—

Kanan knows that every moment has led to this and Ezra is the future his Master and her Master before her never expected but they would be so proud to see Ezra now and Kanan can only hope Ezra knows how proud Kanan is of him too and know when he looks at Ezra he knows everything is going to be okay because “we are what they grow beyond” and despite everything that’s been lost to them Ezra is carrying the heart and soul of thousands of years of legacy and Kanan looks at Ezra knowing he can’t give him that Padawan braid but he’ll be damned if he can’t teach him the things that matter and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything to protect the future he sees in Ezra’s eyes

[aeoris4lovers]

Angstpril 2023 Day One: Liar

There were very few things in life that Eadwulf insisted upon without any chance of compromise. Choosing battles was a matter of survival under the tutelage of Master Ikithon; incurring punishment was easy enough to do even without the added risk that stubbornness presented. To resist bending only made it inevitable that one would eventually have to break, and as far as Eadwulf was concerned, the world offered little of great enough importance to justify tempting that fate.

It was not an oath made lightly, then, when he promised that he would return every day that he was able to one particular cell in the depths of Vergesson Sanatorium.

Astrid refused to speak to him for weeks after the incident, after what he did that night to save her from a fate far worse than a scar. So, with no one there to swear it to, he made his promise to the gods themselves.

He knelt on the floor of his bedroom, hands clasped together in his lap. Outside the small window above his bed, the cool light of the nearly-full moon fanned out across the skies, setting the shadowed room aglow with the night’s ghostly haze. His gaze settled on the nearest mountain peaks; ancient and immense and unmoving, he thought they must be the closest things to gods he would ever lay his eyes on. When thoughts of his past, of his people, of his own actions that night threatened to creep to the front of his mind, he pressed them back into the darkness of memory. They were gone now; there was nothing more to be done for them. Instead, he turned his thoughts again to Bren, to bright red hair and wild eyes and roaring flames and the crack of rock against bone. 

“If I condemned him to this fate,” he whispered, so quiet it was more thought than speech, “let me be the one to see him through it.”

Only a moment later, the soft moonlight was eclipsed by the silhouettes of two ravens coming to rest on the windowsill, and he knew somewhere deep within him that his oath had been sealed.

The next morning, he rose earlier than usual and ate his breakfast as quickly as he could manage to hold it down. The sun still hadn’t even begun to show itself in the young day’s sky when he slipped past the guards at the sanatorium, giving each of them a look which told them not to stand in his way if they valued their lives. They had no way of knowing that, in truth, he wasn’t sure if he would have the courage to make good on that threat; they only saw the determination in his eyes and stepped aside. 

As he pushed through hall after hall, he wasted no time looking at anything other than the faces in each cell, searching for blue eyes and red hair. Any strange looks that may have been aimed his way were lost in the blur of stone and bars and wrong faces. 

When he finally turned a corner and saw a short-cropped burst of orange in the nearest cell, he was just in time to stop the guard who was preparing to enter with whatever sad excuse for a breakfast they had prepared for the day. He caught the guard by the arm, stooping down to look her in the eye, and pressed a few coins into her hand.

All he said was, “Let me.”

She stared at him for a long few seconds, head tilted to one side, before shrugging.

“If you insist.”

Handing him the tray of oatmeal and water, she unlocked the door of Bren’s cell and started off toward the next one down, leaving Eadwulf there alone. He slipped through the door, closed it behind him, and crouched down next to Bren, truly taking in his current state for the first time. 

Perhaps the most noticeable thing should have been how beat up he was – the dark bruises, the blood that no one had bothered to wash from his skin. But instead, all Eadwulf could see was how empty he looked. There was always such a fire behind his eyes, a kind of passion and life there, like his mind was working so feverishly to puzzle the world together that you could watch it happening from the outside, and now? That fire had been all but doused. His eyes were glazed over, wandering helplessly around the space, looking through it all and not truly seeing any of it. There was a slight strain on his face, a clench to his brow that Eadwulf knew his resting face didn’t possess, which betrayed some process of thought, no doubt an unpleasant one. It was distant, though, and passive, as though the thoughts had taken on a life of their own within his mind and he, in this clouded state, was helpless to resist or engage them at all. When his gaze finally fell on Eadwulf, there was a soft spark of recognition that sent Eadwulf’s heart into his throat.

Eadwulf returned every morning after that, and again every night, so long as he wasn’t off on a mission or locked away for the sake of some punishment. Each morning, he fed Bren whatever breakfast the guards had prepared, careful to make it a far more gentle process than the other meals likely involved. As Bren’s hair grew longer with time, Eadwulf took to brushing it, and trimming it when the ends began to fray. A few times, he considered cutting it short again; surely, it would be more comfortable for Bren to have less of it. But there was no ignoring how his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of it being brushed, or how he hummed in a way that almost seemed to approach contentment — better to keep it long, Eadwulf always ultimately decided. 

At night, Eadwulf would clean him — easy enough to do with a simple spell, but most nights Eadwulf wiped his face and hands the mundane way first, probably more for his own sake than for Bren’s — and tended to whatever wounds may have been sustained since the last visit. Then, he would take out whatever books he had been able to find that day, sit by Bren’s side, and read. Bren’s favorite of the books, judging by the way his eyes brightened ever so slightly at the sight of its cover, was an old children's story about a young boy and a cat prince, so they always started and finished with that one. In between, they cycled through as many of the other books as Eadwulf thought they safely had time for, and by the time he closed the fairytale for the final time, Bren was almost always slumped against his side, asleep. 

Eventually, once the rifts between them had been repaired, Astrid joined him for some of his visits, though she was quickly given more responsibilities than him and often found it more difficult to get away. On those days, Astrid would braid Bren’s hair once he had brushed it in the mornings, and alternated reading with him at night.

And after every nighttime visit, he would sit in his bed and write a few lines in a journal: how the day’s visits had gone, what had gone on in the outside world that day or over the past few days, what he and Astrid were doing in their own lives. Someday, he told himself, Bren would have his mind back. Someday, he would hand over the journal, a meticulous record of the days Bren was locked away. Someday, Bren would be able to read it, and it would be as if he hadn’t missed a thing at all.

In all that time spent in Bren’s cell, Eadwulf never feared being discovered by Master Ikithon — not out of carelessness or apathy toward the consequences he would inevitably incur, but because he knew it was foolish to assume he hadn’t already been discovered at the very start. The archmage’s gaze took immense care to avoid, and nowhere was it more omnipresent than in the halls of the sanatorium. The chances that he had gone unnoticed were laughably slim — it was better to assume Master Ikithon was well aware, that a confrontation would come soon enough.

And come it did.

One morning, nearly two years into his visits, Eadwulf arrived at Bren’s cell to see his teacher standing there, calmly watching him approach. Inside the cell, he could see Bren’s eyes wide and his face held more tensely than usual. He was shifting slightly where he sat, as though his own body were the walls of a prison preventing him from running away.

All at once, Eadwulf was overcome with the urge to run forward, to lunge at Ikithon, to scream, because how dare he come here and strike that kind of fear into someone so helpless, hasn’t Bren been through enough? But he pushed the urge down and kept calm as he walked in spite of it. It was him that the archmage was angry with, it was him who would face the consequences of his actions; Bren had no reason to be afraid.

As it turned out, neither did he. Master Ikithon wasn’t angry, not at Eadwulf nor Bren; he never said or even suggested that Eadwulf would be punished, and the calm smile never fell from his face. He seemed entirely unfazed — pleased, even — by Eadwulf’s actions. 

“You are welcome to visit our dear Bren whenever you wish, Eadwulf,” he said in a tone that could almost be mistaken for good-natured, “as is Miss Becke. In fact, I think it’s wonderful that you three have grown to care so much for each other, even after all this time. By all means, do continue to come visit him if it pleases you.” Moving closer, he added in a lower tone, “I would only urge you to remember that it is for you, yes? As much as it pains me to say this, Bren is — how shall I put this? — absent, by all accounts. You are a smart boy, I have no doubt you’ve noticed. Each time you leave this place, it is to him as if you were never here at all; he won’t remember. The sharp young man we knew is, I’m afraid, no longer with us.”

And every night since then, as silence fell over the sanatorium’s halls, Eadwulf would look down at Bren, tucked against his side the same way they had once grown used to laying in their beds, and ask himself: how could that possibly be true?

How, when he still squirmed at the mere sight of his old teacher standing nearby, when his eyes still sparked at the sight of his favorite fairytale’s cover, when he still remembered how to fall asleep next to Eadwulf like it was as simple as breathing, could Bren be gone? How could it be possible that such a sharp mind, so full of passion and of life, simply slipped away? Even if he remembered none of it, even if each day felt to him like the first time, Bren seemed in his own way to welcome their company far more than any other’s, to relax in some small way at their presence; did that not count for something?

It would take him many more years to truly make sense of it, to fully understand the weight of what it meant, but the simple fact remained: that Bren was gone was the first of Trent Ikithon’s lies that Eadwulf ever saw through.

[pipedreams13]

much as i'd like to say jude in the play for 'a little life' isn't exactly what i imagine him to look like from the vague descriptions in the book, all it took was one small clip from the play to convince me that no person couldve been better for the role than james norton was

the performance is just so fucking moving like for just those two minutes of the scene i got so absorbed into their reality that i forgot mine even existed

james embodies jude so well its fuckin insane. From every subtle movement of his to his delivery reminds me of the jude i read in the book and i think thats beautiful

its so rare to find a piece of theatrical media that does justice to the book the way they did

its sad that i couldn't see the play bc well im not in europe but honestly, i don't think i couldve if i was there either. The book ripped my heart out, loved it dearly yet at the same time threw it onto the ground and stomped on it till it was just a sludge of meat and blood.

And i'm still at 'the happy years' and i just know that its gonna keep getting worse from here on :')

[unfried-mouth-wheat]

okay owl house fandom count of hands how many of you would’ve preferred a Caleb Ex Machina rather than a Papa Titan Ex Machina?

[cranberrylane]

you know what reading YA rom-com for the first time does to an emotionally repressed 22-year-old? it makes her re-listen to junior doctor

[littlestpersimmon]

Hey guys. I'm so sorry, trying to sell some commissions but they are not getting picked up. I am feeling a bit antsy; my dad has been experiencing some really worrying symptoms like his arm going numb, fatigue for no reason, chest pains and I have been trying to get him to go to hospital because he has had heart problems for 5 years now. Would absolutely love jf anyone can please help me foot bills because my dad refuses to go to hospital as he doesn't want to "burden" me;;

Feeling a bit anxious as my work deadline is very tight rn to the point I might lose my job if I miss it; am feeling scared and desperate. Any help I deeply appreciate as the year closes;;

Will post my print store and patreon too later; I just have to finish cleaning the house rn

Sorry anything helps and happy holidays everyone

[ana-bananya]

I've been waiting for Caleb's tome for like 3 years now and I wish I was more excited about it, but knowing that I probably won't be able to play the game so I can get his outfit and charms is killing a lot of my excitement over it. My living situation for the past year has made it difficult to play any online games and I've been hoping things would be fixed by now but they aren't. I know it's literally just a game but I've been looking forward for this for so long and I'm probably gonna miss out on most of it.

[pass-me-the-dilfs]

Being creative but lazy is such a struggle. Like I want to draw and paint and figure out digital art and crochet and do pottery and figure out drag makeup and write a book and also a screen play but I just..... don't? Like I would love to do those things in theory, but actually getting up and doing them? I'd rather die.

[feuerwizard]

The human frowns at Fjord's attempt to brush it off, seeing through the half-smile that does not quite reach his eyes. "That does not make it right," he counters softly. And he lets out a long breath, seeming to deflate slightly as some of the tension leaves his scrawny frame. He leans more heavily against the railing, eyes cast downward to the sea.

Perhaps… perhaps just this once, he could allow himself some honesty.

“I know none of this has been easy for you. Learning to control your new abilities, dealing with… her." Caleb's tone turns bitter on the last word. "We took advantage of the situation, of you. And for that, I am sorry. You are our friend, Fjord, and you deserve better than to be used as a means to an end."

He pauses, gathering his thoughts, the wood grain of the railing digging into his arms. "I suppose I still have more to learn when it comes to… people. Trusting them. Trusting you."

Caleb glances up to meet Fjord's gaze, the expression behind blue eyes sincere, a sincerity that is typically reserved for Nott and Nott alone. "But I am trying. We all are. And I hope you know—truly know—that you can trust us in return."

This is their… family now.

Fjord blinks in something like surprise at the sudden introduction of the subject. It’s the last thing he expects Caleb to be thinking about right now, let alone apologize for. The clear sky allows moonlight to bounce off the waves, casting the wizard’s expression in high-contrast shadows that only make him look more aggrieved.

What does Fjord even say to that ?

“It wasn’t… uh…”

A lurch of dread rises in his gut along with the memories of the past few days. He’s been running on adrenaline and determination, without a lot of time to really think about it. But Caleb — clever Caleb — never misses anything, does he ? With a sigh, the half-orc turns his back against the ship railing and folds his arms over his chest. 

It’s not an angry posture (he’s long since spent his energy for that), but a slightly protective one. They may be the only souls above deck right now, but he shifts close enough to speak in a low, quiet tone. “It wasn’t that bad. I… I knew why it was important.“

And truthfully, hearing his wizard companion express regret only makes Fjord feel stupider for allowing everything to unfold the way it did. He tries to shrug as he meets Caleb's eyes again, offering a smile that doesn't quite reach his own. "Rather it be me in a position like that anyway."

[jess-the-vampire]

Thinking about Archie meeting Oliver and Bailey

the funny thing is i have considered the idea they still exist in this au, but like, as archie's younger siblings

and that it sometimes adds to archie's feeling of being unwanted or a burden when he was younger, because he's the child causing so much drama in comparison to his drama free siblings who were biologically made...unlike him

adopted kids feeling inferior or unwanted due to the existence of their parents having bio kids is sadly something that does happen, there def is a social pressure that bio kids are somehow better or that adopted kids aren't "Your kids" enough because you don't share dna

archie of course does share dna with at least hunter through caleb and Philp being brothers, but not being the product of both his parents and instead being an ineffective clone of an evil emperor who is the reason they have to go to the principles every week would still probably suck in his eyes

i do think he would love any younger siblings he had, even if there was some resentment underneath tho

the idea has been tossed around at least, like it's not canon rn but obviously i've considered it

i do think under that circumstance hunter and willow would make sure to make archer feel as special as possible so he always knows the fact he isn't their bio child doesn't make him less of their son and that his siblings aren't here to replace him

they would of probably had other kids once archie was a little more independent purely because they wanted him to get as much attention and love as possible until they felt he was ready to share that attention due to his circumstances

he is a special case, being the clone of belos after all, makes sense they want to try and help him settle into this world and support him for a good while till he's capable of handling some of it on his own

and i do think his siblings would look up to archie as their big older brother no matter where he came from, even if they wouldn't fully understand everything archie is dealing with and going through

[recitedemise]

Caleb looks ready to run for the hills. Contrarily, Gale wants most desperately to run toward him.

How odd. To be fair, however, he supposes it could've been just about anyone. Gale's a wanting little thing, a blighted, hollowed man hampered foul with need. He'd sequestered for a year, nursed little beyond the depths of his miserable heart, and to feel his magic? To humor friends? Why, it'd be a deal too poetic to think Gale a rose, but to be met with company with that same fondness for spellcraft... Well, after a lifetime of winter, it feels like spring. Hope.

--a hope, of course, that leaps right back to autumn. 

His orb ripples nastily. Come the wilting month.

Gale, fingers curling into those grooves in his chest, sees it, his flicker of caution all a mountain. Caleb's worry flares keen, colored at its fringes by a not-distant fear. He shouldn't hasten to hope and shouldn't reach for comfort. He's already so wary, and Gale's a threat. "You propose a bargain," Gale breathes, ignoring that deep, deep, mind-haunting doubt. "Were it that I hadn't already seen you casting, I'd have thought you more a trader than a fellow wizard down on his luck." Yes, gifted in ways that had spurred his intrigue--just, as Gale's sure, he had spurred his own. That said, Caleb, bright, is far too clever to not have noticed his orb. The others study him, too, trading whispers in secret when he retreats for the night, but that scrutiny of a soul who can feel his spells? Dead flesh and death lumps! He'd taste it, too. It curls in the air, Gale's magic like a graveyard with the immolated dead. Caleb's hair burns warm like that fire off his fingers, (and there in his eyes looms corpses, too.)

"All the same, I like to believe I know better than to peddle a lie to a man that sells them." Oh. So, Caleb, too, isn't quite that subtle. Still, Gale holds his gaze, and the sour scent of wasting things twines ugly between them. "I won't do you the disservice of selling that mind of yours short. When I pull from the Weave, it would be my presence you'd feel on the borders of your mind. You could no sooner deny me than I could deny you." The way their Weaving is so instinctually felt... Orb glowing through his fingers, Gale harshly bows. "Ah— There's certainly no escaping you. I'm sure you've your share of theories. I imagine I don't inspire much delight."

Cerulean eyes are transfixed on the burning figure before them, a fierce flame engulfing their enemy, ever-consuming in its intense heat. Remnants of a fire-based spell cast by Gale leave behind a faint dust of magical energy in the air. The smell of burning flesh, thick and acrid as the charred body crumbles to the ground, singed. And Caleb's feet are rooted to the ground, struck by a wave of memories that wash over him with such force he cannot move… cannot focus. Struggling to escape a relentless onslaught of emotions, ears ring as his chest tightens, suffocating him.

Until a voice breaks through and Caleb is left with little choice but to focus.

Stay on task, Widogast.

His eyes flutter uncontrollably, trying to shake off the panic that has taken hold of his mind. “I am fine,” He insists, averting further unwanted inquiry, and turns to face Gale, who mirrors his own state by clutching at his chest… though this wizard’s reasons for doing so are entirely different from his own. At the mere mention of his amulet, Caleb's hand instinctively flew to his chest, protectively tucking the necklace back under his shirt where it had come loose during the battle. And he fights the instinctual urge to lie, to assert he has no other enchanted items in his possession to provide… but Gale looks ghastly. The stench of rotten magic, like decaying flesh and spoiled fruit so concerning that even years of survival and selfishness are temporarily lost on Caleb. “Ja, okay... and if I did provide you with such an object would it come with an explanation in return?”

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Caleb actually, finally, getting a route almost feels like a fever dream.

The amount of wishing and hoping we've been doing for almost a YEAR at this point has made it seem like it was going to be teased forever. All I can say is I really really hope with all my pu- heart that they deliver bc that man has so many loyal fans on his SLIVER of content, I'd hate to be his writers rn 🥴😩

Caleb girlies your perseverance has paid off I'm so happy for yall 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

@nobodys-saviour are you alive? Did you survive the announcement??

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia!

I've been reading a bunch of your works over the last couple of months and I hope it's okay if I throw some thoughts/questions at you!

This feels really forward, but have you ever written anything with voyerism as a kink? And if not, do you have any interest in it? TIP is the most recent thing of yours that I've finished and that scene where Augus watched Mosk & Eran... hot. Twas very hot. I think about it a lot lol.

As for the Underline universe, how far into Blue and Gold are we? Like percentage/fraction-wise? Or is it still up in the air? I know we have an end in sight for Black now and it makes me wonder.

I'm so nervous about the next couple of chapters of Black. Gosh I love the fluff rn, but I am so scared for the whole Henton/Crielle mess to come back. I genuinely forgot that Henton was gonna be relevant and I looked at the tags recently and audibly went 'oh shit.' This is not a question, I just want you to know that I am Scared.

I have so many questions about Silver but I am trying to restrain myself bc I know you must keep your secrets. Just please know I think about them. Could I ask what Augus and Corbyn's ages are? I'm fairly certain they're not gonna be 80 but I work as a CNA and I've started thinking about their dynamic as a cute old couple at a facility and it makes me giggle a little.

If you're still doing the OC asks thing, would you do #10 for Arden? I know you've gotten multiple asks about him in Underline (which makes sense why you wouldn't want to put him there), but I'm curious if there's any other scenarios you'd want to put him in?

I'm the anon that asked for more about Caleb and I just. Am fighting demons not to literally put 1-25 for him (I love mean tops)(And he is still in his mean to faber stage)(will he ever not be? that's not a actual question) I just...his and fabers dynamic is my kind of hurt lol (i wonder how he'd feel about having a tiny fanclub?)(i can support his buisness pursuits or something)

Now that I look all of this over I am sorry but also not sorry this is probably overwhelming. Feel free to skip over whatever or answer some and come back to it. Just know I am thinking about your characters like... too many hours in the day. I need to get back to laundry lol

Whoa holy fucking questions batman!

I shall do my best anon I am intrigued

This feels really forward, but have you ever written anything with voyerism as a kink? And if not, do you have any interest in it? TIP is the most recent thing of yours that I've finished and that scene where Augus watched Mosk & Eran... hot. Twas very hot. I think about it a lot lol.

Voyeurism, yes! Particularly in one of the later chapters of The Beast that Chose Its Own Bridle where Felix and Murtagh watch a kink scene live, and Murtagh edges Felix during it, while quietly talking to him, until Felix is basically begging to come.

Otherwise I'm not writing it often mostly because many of the bottoms I write are either a) too insecure to perform for others or b) it's just not a direction the story is going in.

I don't really write exhibitionism at all, but there are elements of voyeurism around, Falling Falling Stars had some non-sexual and hints of voyeurism overall re: Efnisien, Kadek, and Arden.

I'm fairly certain the Strange Sights universe has elements of both (exhibitionism from Augus, voyeurism from Ash and Augus towards each other). Especially the follow-up sequel, where Ash asks Augus to masturbate for him.

Eversion probably has the most in terms of people watching Connor. In fact the very first time we ever see him in a sex scene, it's at a BDSM club where literally someone is just there to watch him get off, and he meets his dom while both of them watch someone else endure a flogging, and Connor is - similarly to Felix - played with while watching the scene. There's also the threesome between Luuk, Hank and Connor later, where it's clear that Hank and Luuk are both enjoying watching each other as well as Connor. So I would say Eversion probably has the most!

It's not something I write often, but it's around! (two of these fics are over at my thespectaclesofthor AO3 account!)

As for the Underline universe, how far into Blue and Gold are we? Like percentage/fraction-wise? Or is it still up in the air? I know we have an end in sight for Black now and it makes me wonder.

No idea re: Blue and Gold, though I know neither of them will be anywhere near as long as Black. To the point where I'm hoping to wrap up Blue and Gold around the chapter 35-45 mark. But hope is a fickle thing, and it could be earlier, could be later. They were never designed to be stories that had huge development arcs or anything, they're pretty much done once the characters have bonded successfully / shared a successful heat. Both stories end before Underline the Black starts in terms of in-world timeline!

I'm so nervous about the next couple of chapters of Black. Gosh I love the fluff rn, but I am so scared for the whole Henton/Crielle mess to come back. I genuinely forgot that Henton was gonna be relevant and I looked at the tags recently and audibly went 'oh shit.' This is not a question, I just want you to know that I am Scared.

You should be : )

I mean, it'll be fine!

Well, both of those things can be true, lol.

I have so many questions about Silver but I am trying to restrain myself bc I know you must keep your secrets. Just please know I think about them. Could I ask what Augus and Corbyn's ages are?

They're in their fifties! I haven't gotten exact ages on them yet, but I know that if Alois complains about being old around Corbyn, Corbyn is just going to smile tiredly at him.

If you're still doing the OC asks thing, would you do #10 for Arden?

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

Honestly, I feel like his story is "closed." I don't really know how to explain this, but with some of the characters I write, I hit a point where I just don't need to write them again. Eran is the same.

I think it's telling (to me) that in all the stories I'm writing after Falling Falling Stars, each one of them is literally revolving around *another* character that isn't Arden (whether it's Gwyn, or Kadek, or Dr Gary). That doesn't mean Arden isn't around, I just have no drive to tell a version of his story again.

Some characters stay open mentally, and others sort of mentally go into the 'I'm done' space. Gwyn and Augus took forever to kind of walk into the 'I'm done' space (and they're still not fully there)! - Arden was there immediately after Falling Falling Stars was over.

Also they kind of choose that space? I stay open generally because I like writing AUs a lot, so it's like a weird sense of like a character walking away from me, vs. me being like 'I'm tired of you.' Arden walked away! He was happy, lol. So I literally have zero other story ideas for Arden and I think he'd be mad at me for trying to think up any.

I'm the anon that asked for more about Caleb and I just. Am fighting demons not to literally put 1-25 for him (I love mean tops)(And he is still in his mean to faber stage)(will he ever not be? that's not a actual question) I just...his and fabers dynamic is my kind of hurt lol (i wonder how he'd feel about having a tiny fanclub?)(i can support his buisness pursuits or something)

Anon I promise you that you're not the only one who cares about Caleb!! Also I love this douche guy, can't wait to show more of him!

If you limit yourself to like 3 questions from the meme each time, you can send more asks! I still have a few to get to in general. :D

[littlestpersimmon]

Am caught in a death spiral my lieges. I don't feel entitled to anyone's time, effort or resources but I feel so beat down. I am disabled, I am working so much I genuinely developed a hunched back. I am alone responsible for my autistic sister, her parentified sibling, and my two parents who are disabled with extremely limited movement. I have three jobs. I can't ask for help on twitter because people I work for follow me there. My work requires me to draw every day, without a day off, ever. I have a "morality clause" which means if I or the author I work with are deemed to be acting in any way the company thinks inappropriate, we are immediately fired and would have to return every single cent we have made. I feel at my wits end. My employers are american- but I am not. I live in the global south- government assistance in the Philippines is *nonexistent*

Last week I asked for help to pay for electricity. The other week I asked for help with my sister who had to be rushed to the ER.

I doxxed myself and posted medical info to this blog, so many strangers know my address, my legal name, everything just for me to be able to seek mutual aid- Wallah I do not want to be this person, but if anyone could please, pick up a print from my inprnt, or subscribe to my patreon, I already have 300+ drawings up there and I upload thrice to four times a month, or if you could send direct tips it would make a world's difference. I will try to open commissions next week but as the world is being plunged into wherever it is we are headed, it's getting harder and harder to get clients.

Currently myself dealing with housing insecurity- we only have a year or two to fix our traditional filipino house as it is falling apart due to the philippine storms and termites- *please* help me and my disabled family of three. I feel I am rambling now bc there's so much on my mind, on my plate, I've asked friends and my partner for help, my sister and my cousins and my friends are all I have. My mom's side of the family cannot help as they are all extremely poor themselves, and my paternal side of the family have emotionally abused me and have members that committed routine csa on me. I do not take any of the help I receive here for granted, and I'm sorry. Reblogs are off as I am asking for help from followers as I feel very ashamed / embarrassed/ humiliated to still be stuck in this dark place . Sorry and thank you again

Inprnt is having a sale rn, everything is like at 40% off!

And my tipping jars:

Sorry and thank you again. If you can't donate or purchase its OK, just please please please include me in your prayers, make mi shebeirach for my health so I csn continue to work, or any prayers at all for me. Thank you

[badgirlcoven-official]

You can do whatever you want forever/silly /pos

But fr PLS I love your AU brainrot it's so good

Although I adore all of the fanworks Camila is in that I've engaged with, I've noticed that most of it is hurt/comfort with her comforting everyone else and mama deserves a break so I made a being niceys to her bingo for anyone who wants to do it.

Any kind of fanwork counts be it art, writing, edits, music, etc. and you can tag me if you'd like but you don't have to!

(Image ID / prompts transcript for anyone who cannot access the alt text under the cut)

[ID: A fandom prompt bingo themed around Camila Noceda from The Owl House. Camila's post-series sprite is edited over a space background and the bingo board is next to her and colored light blue. On the top of the image in blue decorative text is the title, "Camila Noceda appreciation bingo."

The prompts, in order from left to right and top to bottom are as follows:

Friends, astral oath, photograph, coparent / copilot, treat, food, cosmic frontier, mother's day, naptime, fluff, pride, gift, free space, cosplay, holiday, date, Manny, wash day / spa day, hobbies, self-care, adoption, palisman, stars / space, loved, and gamer. End ID]