#i know where he needs to be its just can i get there without him murdering half the cast the answer is probably not

[couch-house]

If you've been following me for a while you already know I'm going to tell you to vote for @themetalvirus's Egghog AU in @sonic-au-collision. You know I love drawing those funny little guys. But I think it might be a good idea to actually get into why I find them so compelling! I think any good AU is in conversation with canon,and egghogs is a certified Yapper.

Let's start with our hero, Amy!

Our canon Amy can be characterized by her deep compassion and optimism. As well as how Sonic has inspired her hero crush and motivated her to go out and put that compassion to work herself!* Egghog Amy has that same compassion, but what if she had no choice in being the hero? She had no one to look up to and inspire her, just the crushing weight of necessity. An Amy put in canon Sonic's position, who relies on unceasing and perhaps inappropriate optimism, but is still worn down by the weight of the world. I like this take on her, an exploration of where "toxic positivity" can get you.

*I think the classic IDW Amy characterization is a good example of this. As well as Fleetway Amys origin story heehee

Despite the stress of it all, she still has the optimism to see the best in people and believe they can change for the better. Like, for example, her crush: Egghog Sonic.

Just like canon Sonic, Eggy is a headstrong hedgehog defined by his own moral compass and his need to have a pretty good time. But while canon Sonic is defined by his love of freedom, independence, and by his "coolness," Egghog Sonic has been raised in Eggman's trap of control. He's just as headstrong, but in the opposite direction. His adoptive family is just as important to him as canon Sonic's friends, but in opposition to the good of the world. Where canon Sonic is personally reckless to protect others, Eggy is careless with the safety of others in service to his and his family's needs. Canon Sonic is capricious and relaxed, even in the face of danger, while Eggy is restrained, emotionally stunted, and stressed at all times.

Personally, I think that Egghog Sonic's fighting style being based in ballet--associated with control, restraint, and exclusivity by wealth--opposed to canon Sonic's fighting evoking breakdancing--a sport associated with creativity, play, and its origins as an urban art--does a great job on its own of juxtaposing the two Sonics.

But as I mentioned, even with his morals and freedom in opposition to canon, Egghog Sonic still has that essential connection to the people he cares about: his close-knit (read: highly controlled) family.

Egghog Sonic's younger brother Silver has all of canon Silver's accidental dickishness and ruthlessness, but without the humbling experience of surviving in a ruined future to keep him in check. Born and raised with a silver (ha) spoon in his mouth, Eggy Silver would be killed instantly by canon Silver's upbringing. All his worst qualities have been encouraged (as opposed to canon silver facing consequences for and learning from his flaws) and Eggy Silver is a huge fucking bitch. You know when Silver mugged Tails in Rivals? Okay now imagine if he was raised to do that as a child soldier. Now imagine he gets anything he wants whenever he asks. Thats Egghog Silver. When Silver defects from the Eggpire, we see that appreciation for the world and its history grow back where it belongs. It gives a better appreciation to what motivates canon Silver's view of the world, and recreates it in a new way.

Also the irony of Mr. I Must Fight For The Future's fucked up AU version of himself being part of the cause of the ruined future.... its delicious.

Finally, the oldest brother (by like a couple months...). We all know canon Shadow's had a rough time of it RE: mind control, manipulation, having a whole game where he is asked to be everyones gofer... This is Egghog Shadow's life for a full 15 years. Gerald doesn't finish cooking Egghog, and Eggman is the one to dump him out of the tube and raise him to be the perfect chaos-weilding soldier. He makes liberal use of his ability to physically manipulate Shadow's artificial mind to keep him in line as an endlessly obedient servant. Of course, any Shadow meaningfully based in canon won't stay that way. Just as his canon counterpart breaks free from the demands of those around him to forge his own path, so does Eggy Shadow. Even in the fucking miseries, even without a Maria, Shadow is still will make the choice to walk his own path.

Well, not just his own path. Because while Shadow (esp post-06 Shadow) can be uncompromisingly independent at times, he is still often defined by his friendships. Specifically, his relationship to Rouge is given focus in this AU, being his one reprieve from the empire and ultimately his way out. Canon Shadow had Rouge and Omega by his side during some of his darkest moments and arguably that made all the difference to his arc. Their presence (yes, Omega is here too) during Eggy Shadow's suffering is all the more essential and highlights their roles in canon.

But of course, with greater miseries comes greater struggle to heal. Canon Shadow's neat freak nature gets reinterpreted as a trauma response--maladaptive perfectionism and OCD. (tbc, in the same way fan works often recognize that canon Shadow likely lives with PTSD as a result of his experiences, Egghog Shadow's OCD is presented as an appropriate consequence of the stressful environment he's been raised in.) I like this as an exploration of how Shadow handles stress and trauma, how it might change in different circumstances.

All that to say, Egghog AU is just done in such a compelling way that really grabs me and facilitates Rambling about The Parallels and such. And that I think makes for a GREAT AU. The exploration of Sonic's strong personal morals and headstrong...ness, the benefits and flaws of Amy's intense optimism and compassion, Silver's ruthlessness and meaner side, and Shadow's tendency to introspection and overcorrection... Again I say, a good AU is one that is in conversation with canon, and Egghogs is constantly talking about the fascinating conflicts created by these characters. And thats why you should vote #Egghogs4Eggver

[harmonysanreads]

PUPPY PHAINON IS SO REAL OMG

i think it be so funny (extremely sexy) if he goes absolutely feral because his love got hurt on the battlefield

i'm talking absolute carnage, not a soul alive, people being genuinely scared because wtf man (bonus if his partner only got a minor flesh wound hehe)

Your lover has been acting... strange recently.

Though, the abnormalities have been so conveniently spaced, so intertwined with inconveniences that they could be brushed off as mere coincidences — in hindsight, at least. You'd be found guilty of this practice, as it becomes second nature to assume the best of people that can bear one's trust. There appears the occasional incident, where you find yourself second guessing that faith instead and question the normalcy of this particular genre of human behavior.

“Will you tell me now, who did this to you, melite?”

You find that you need to use force in order to push down the flinch that almost crawled all over your skin, unaccustomed to this tone of his.

You push yourself closer, your nails dig a bit harder into the fabric covering his arm ; sensing his gaze towards your direction. Your grasp is more labored than it should've been, you can feel the tendons beneath your grip flexing in barely held restraint. Murmurs follow their way to your ear, unintelligible in fear of feeding further the hero's wrath.

“I have been telling you this since the beginning, Phai.” in spite of your effort, exasperation bleeds into your words.

You glance from behind Phainon's shadow — pointedly at that — towards the knuckle tight grip he has on the fellow's skull. ‘Unfortunate’ probably does not suffice to describe this random pedestrian's situation. You're not given more time to ponder the validity of that claim as something reminiscent of a crack drifts to your ear, alerting you to hasten.

“It wasn't this man, it wasn't any human to begin with! You have to believe me, please.” you tilt your head and make sure to secure his gaze, ripples of discontent appear on the once placid ocean.

You knew it wasn't exactly unusual for one's protective instincts to be provoked in relation to a loved one, but for it reach this magnitude was concerning in your book. Especially so considering their increasing appearances, over the most mundane matters at that.

The Chrysos Heirs aren't known as without their fair share of eccentricities, you suppose they are suited for ones destined to be heroes. But every new scene over a scratch against a surface, a person standing too close, a different gaze lingering too long has you questioning if Phainon's ‘protectiveness’ can really be excused for long.

Perhaps the helplessness in your eyes had finally pushed through the layers of rage bubbling in his head and the contact with your skin had weakened the flames, as he loosens his clasp on the man's head, before shoving him aside with enough force to make you feel the kick of your heart against your ribcage.

You don't get to check the man's condition as Phainon takes your hand in his previously occupied one, his thumb ghosts over the scratch across its back, the swift difference unnerves you for a second.

You know not to waste your breath though, catching the implications. “It... was that pillar.” you avert your eyes upon feeling his caress halt.

“...Which one?” his curt inquiry alerts you. His fingers flex and relax around yours, you can no longer hear the crowd.

You bypass a breath to grasp his collar, caution clouds your mind. The abruptness of your action startles Phainon, as he meets your frown.

“Don’t.” you warn, the realization that makes itself known on his countenance at your order proves your hypothesis to be correct.

“But that pillar deserves it, melite.” something similar to a pout softens his face and at last you find traces of the Phainon you are so familiar with. “If it's hurt you once, it will do it again. Isn't it better to just remove it to avoid that scenario?”

You let go of his collar and rest your palm on his cheek, unable to restrain the sigh that escapes your lips, “Phai, the pillar is an inanimate object.”

He leans into your touch, you're certain he would've melted from it had it not been for the embers of his previous fury keeping his senses sharp, “So?”

You steer yourself away from face-palming, “So, I'm saying that you shouldn't make more of a scene that you've already had. I just want a peaceful evening with you, okay?”

He blankly stares at you for a moment, digesting each syllable. Only when the ‘with you’ reaches his ears does he seem to have sobered up. Phainon nods, taking your hand from his face to press a kiss on the scratch marring the skin. You notice his eyes straying, you would've missed it completely had you not been paying attention — a side-eye towards the fellow now scrambling away.

You've succeeded in preventing any major incident from occuring today, but your power in maintaining the consistency of this endeavor remains uncertain.

I tweaked the scenario a bit because it was funnier in my head orz but overprotective Phainon is so delicious, ty nonnie!

[lame-cameoliob]

Kallus' motivations are so interesting

I just need to get these thoughts out so I’m throwing this ramble here:

Now, this may totally just be me thinking too much (fork found in kitchen) but I feel like when it comes to how we tend to think about Kallus’ characterization, the implications of Kallus’ experience on Onderon are very overlooked. 

So he goes to Onderon with “the boys”-- which, the term “the boys” has its own set of implications about how Kallus must have really cared for those troopers under his command but I digress– and on a patrol they’re attacked, yada yada, we all know the story. 

But Kallus becomes fully paralyzed. He doesn’t describe the extent of his paralyzation but given that he had to watch as his squad was “finished off one by one” it’s pretty fair to assume that he could not move whatsoever. The fear that any person would experience in that situation is completely indescribable, that is genuinely some shit straight out of a night terror. 

He is– as we know– spared (albeit we don’t get exact details (did the merc try to kill him but reinforcements arrived before he could? Did the merc think that Kallus was already dead? Secret 3rd option?)) and he makes a full physical recovery, but there is no way in hell that he is not coming out of that encounter with some crazy PTSD. 

There’s not a whole lot of info on Imperial mental health services but I don’t think it’s a longshot to assume that they are probably close to nonexistent.

So the empire now has… an ISB agent with field experience… with untreated PTSD… where said PTSDs inciting incident pertained to a Lasat… and they’re looking to make an example out of Lasan……….. Are you picking up what I'm putting down here…...?

If you aren’t; it is BY NO MEANS a wild assumption to say that the Empire– essentially– weaponized Kallus’ PTSD, given that he would be less likely to question the moral atrocities happening on Lasan since he was already biased against Lasat as a whole. 

Now, we don’t really have a solid grasp on what Kallus’ exact role in Lasan was since he’s  kiiiiinnnd of an unreliable narrator– I mean we’re given the line in Droids in Distress where he takes credit for giving orders during the siege, but Kallus routinely just runs his mf mouth whenever he’s throwing hands so it’s like…  that could either be the truth or a crazy exaggeration, we as viewers have literally no idea what’s going on there– but it goes without saying that Kallus is obviously not excused from his participation just because of (likely) untreated mental illness, but that is literally like the whole point of his character so like we all knew that

Now, after Lasan, Kallus does something really bizarre for an imperial to do; he accepts the borifle given to him through the Boosan Keerah, and even though he doesn’t know about the cultural significance of that, he still takes it upon himself to learn how to use this weapon. I think that literally any other imperial would have tossed that shit out on sight, so I think it does kind of imply that Kallus did have a good deal of respect for Lasat culture.

Now we can all recall how Kallus is so annoying and also batshit insane whenever he fights Zeb for the first season and a half of rebels, and ME THINKS that this is because he wants to prove to himself that if he were not paralyzed on Onderon, he could have saved the members of his squad. He had to sit by and watch them die, and I think that he just wants the vindication; now you may be thinking, But Emma, he beat the Lasat who gave him his borifle, why would he still be obsessing over this– say it with me now– he is mentally ill. No victory will ever be enough to prove this to himself. Point blank period. 

(edit:) He is for sure operating from a place of extreme predjudice and bias but I think it's worth noting that he’s not operating under the usual xenophobic imperial mindset that other species are automaticaly lesser than. (end edit) This weird obsession that he has in seasons 1 and 2 deels like it's mostly there because he wants to outwit and outfight Zeb (and the rest of the Ghost crew… but especially Zeb) (edit: Though it is 100% influenced by Xenophobia-- his mental illness and xenopobia DO coexist!!)

And after the Honorable Ones???? It’s literally never brought up again. He chills tf out so hard after that it is high key uncanny. And like, yes duh that is because– for writing purposes– that’s the beginning of his redemption and they want viewers to root for him as fulcrum, but it also implies that after finding common ground with Zeb, and understanding where he’s coming from and who Zeb is as a person, he realizes that he’s been CRASHING TF OUT for basically no reason. 

And he is SO QUICK to switch sides?? Like, he is fulcrum at least a decent time before the beginning of season three. The whole point is that the second he asks questions and delves deeper into what the Empires motivations are he is disgusted enough that he doesn’t just drop everything and disappear, no, he became a spy for the rebels because he wants to help. I feel like that just goes to show that, at his core, Kallus is a good person. A deeply confused, and hurt, and misguided person, but a good one. 

I dunno, this is just a really long winded way of saying that Kallus is the perfect example of an imperial pawn. Like the Empire is an incredibly effecient indoctrination machine that exploits people at every turn, especially their own soldiers, and I think that Kallus’ relationship with that indoctrination along with his own motivations is just super super interesting and I think about it literally all the time

[atangledfate]

Of course everyone's eyes went to Vector as he went ridged as a board! Of course they weren't wrong he had been there to get her and the others off the shuttle. But truth was they split up shortly after landing but he had a feeling he was gonna get chewed out! He felt backed into a corner and honestly! alot happened so fast and he wasn't even hired to look after her--- but here he was being glared at by everyone!

" WOAH WOAH hold yer dang horses! I did what i was asked ta do, i got her on the ground! and we did it without crashin' and everything! but then she says to me... i need to get to the command center and buzzes off before i can stop her! i sent Charmy after her but i ain't seen neither one... so i'm just as worried as you! "

Espio sighed and gave a sideways glance as Vector got very defensive at the stares.

" To be fair... with our track record... its a miracle we managed to land without crashing... but Vector is right. Jewel was anxious to get here... and at the time we were moving people to the infirmary. If she didn't make it here... i pray Amy's attacker didn't get to her first..."

Miles was concerned by this information, and the fact Vector said nothing was classic Vector. but in his defense he probably assumed she was here and gone already or off doing something more important. He didn't blame Vector for losing her so much, and he sent Charmy with her. The kid was alot of things but he wouldn't have left Jewel alone...

" Belle has the right idea, we'll check security and see if we can find her. Also check for Charmy i bet the two won't be to far apart... Knowing Jewel it would have had to be real important for her to deviate from her duty as Director... she's always been dedicated to her work..."

he sighed

" All we can do now... is wait... "

===========================================

the teenage Bee struggled against the debris as he pushed himself up from where he'd nearly been crushed. The only thing he could think to do was push Miss Jewel into the Cell with Rough and Tumble and hope she would make it. Looking up at the sky from the hole in the roof it seemed like a piece of the airship had fallen and got snagged on an upper high way. When the airship finally crashed it fell down into the prison.

Ten years ago he'd have been to small and weak to do anything, but he was a teenager now. He and Vector fought alot about the risks he took and, how brazen he could be. Maybe he as right, he was pretty messed up but at least he could fly. Luckily his helmet seemed to have saved his head from being cracked open.

Charmy buzzed up into the air holding his busted shoulder and looking around for help. That's when he saw the green flash of motion and he was sure Vector would call him dumb or foolish for flagging her down! heck she might just laugh at him!

" HEY! HEY! GREENIE! OVER HERE!! oww... my shoulder... "

He winced landing on the street so she could reach him.

" I'm gonna get so grounded for this... i just know it... or worse V will take my drivers license away... maaaaaan this bites! "

"Well, what of Director Jewel? She surely has to be on the base, correct?" If Blaze was being honest she had taken notice to how they had yet to show up to the command center yet. The feline was sure there was a lot happening, though it had been some time since all this started and it would've made sense to have seen Jewel arrive at the command center by this point.

"I can have Belle Bot keep an eye on the camera's for her, though she has to be on the base since she was with The Chaotix and they made it here. Belle Bot, connect to the surveillance and keep a look out for Director Jewel. If you see her then state where she is." The Belle Bot eyes would change to blue and tap into the camera feed, looking for Jewel.

"A lot of unnecessary work when we can simply ask them where Jewel went," Kitsunami said as he looked at the Chaotix. "So, what did she run off to that was more important than trying to help deal with G.U.N?" A rather blunt and harsh way of wording it, though the fennec spoke his mind regardless of how it came off. Besides, he did have a point that her running off to do something else wasn't ideal right now.

"Calm down, everything is going crazy and I wouldn't be surprised if a ton of people are asking her what's going on and what she's doing about it," Rowan said, standing up and stretching a bit. "Though now that I think about it, there is another who's opinion we should get. Which would be the giant momma Wisp flying about the place. I can't imagine she's too happy with all the Wisps that are stressed out right now."

===========================================================

"All I said was that I didn't know her." Surge never got around to talking to her, though about the only one's she really made any effort to talk to was the others on the team, and for some odd reason that Belle chick after she patched her up. "I'll still do a run around after I drop you off." The tenrec would grab Lanolin's hand. "Hang on tight I guess." She's never ran with someone in tow before unless she was trying to hurt them. Without anymore delay she sprinted off towards the infirmary.

[velvet-n-lace]

NSFW Alphabet (Lucifer Edition)

Series: Obey Me!

Genre: Smut/Headcanon

Word Count: 1.7k words

Pairing(s): Lucifer x Female MC

A/N: This has probably been done before, but I wanted to throw in my two cents. I made some for the other brothers too ;)

Original Template by @/the-coldest-goodbye 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Lucifer is both sweet and caring. He would leave you a bit sore, but he knows how to soothe the pain and patch up some wounds. He would clean you up and then hold you in his arms so that the pleasure lingers. He is gentle and possessive when he traces your skin and leaves goosebumps behind.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

For Lucifer, it’s his arms and hands. Without them, he wouldn’t cuddle with you or perform some sadistic desires on your body. His favorite part of your body is your pretty face, specifically your lips and blushing cheeks. He loves tracing them with his thumb and kissing your lips passionately.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Lucifer cums huge loads, and he cums multiple times in every position. He especially loves watching you swallow it or when it leaks down your mouth like frosting. Sometimes, it’s a bit much and spills over your face, or it’s leaking out your quivering pussy. His cum is bittersweet; its saltiness reflects his personality~

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Y’know how Lucifer ties up his brothers to the ceiling as a punishment? He does that out of love, if you could believe it. As for you, though, it’s simply for his pleasure; sometimes, he punishes you for the littlest things just to see you bounded with rope, all helpless and vulnerable. He admires his work well with a wicked grin the more he sees you struggling to break free. The tighter the ropes are, the more you will be writhing in frustration; Lucifer lives for that.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucifer is very experienced, as expected, but he won’t tell you how he got these experiences. Obviously, he punishes his brothers and ties them to the ceiling; that explains his sadism, but the sex is a mystery. It’s off the charts, so maybe deep down inside, he’s just a built-in sex god.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Any position where he looks down at you with fear and pleasure in your eyes. Kneeling, giving him a blowjob, fucking you from behind, fucking you against the wall, or getting fucked beneath him give him his power. He also loves the positions where he restrains your limbs besides bouncing on his dick. Riding him could be its own form of pussy torture, but that’s only if you're getting punished.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Serious, of course he is, but he can be very teasing. If he’s in the mood to fuck the brattiness out of you, he will push your buttons and then punish you for it. He knows the game, and you almost hate him for it.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s very well-groomed. You can tell he keeps himself clean for any occasion, even when he doesn't need to be. The carpet matches the drapes perfectly, and he keeps it well-shaven and trimmed.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Lucifer is so sweet; the affection he gives you practically seeps through your skin, and he knows that the more love he gives you, the more pleasure you will be drowning in. His touch is firm but laced with pride and passion, especially in the aftercare.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

When Luci started falling in love with you, there were times when he had to relieve himself in unexpected ways. Of course, he locks the door to his room and jacks himself off, but there have been days when jacking off in his office was more exciting, especially when you walked in and did something unintentionally sexy in front of him. Getting a boner in the middle of the day is always so bothersome for him since it’s so obvious. He would just imagine your mouth on his cock as he pumps himself hard. Having you so close yet unaware of his desires was once thrilling until he finally got to feel your body against his.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bondage and S&M are his prominent kinks. If it wasn’t clear already, having power over you is what he lives for. If you are comfortable being his slave, you will be collared and bound in rope or leather. He won't be able to control himself when you tap into his praise kink, especially when you call him “Master” or “Daddy.”

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His room and your room, but also maybe his office. Fucking you into his bedsheets is fun, and having you fucked over his desk is risky; but damn, he always fantasized about doing it to you. If there is an empty classroom, he might try that, but that’s even more risky.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do can give him some type of desire, especially if it’s unintentional, like bending over to pick up something or reaching for something across a desk. Acting like a brat would definitely have you over his knee for a spanking; the sharp sting on your ass is a constant reminder of your place.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Seeing you making pacts and flirting with his brothers made him slightly jealous. It wasn’t phasing him at first, but the more he wanted you, the more possessive he became. Sharing you is a massive no-no unless maybe Lord Diavolo was invited to your little twosome. Anything that causes him to lose any sense of power or control over you is not nearly as bad as sharing you, but he prefers being the one on top.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving it from you. It’s probably one of the only times you could take charge as you worship his cock and have him writhing in pleasure before he shoots his load down your throat. His skills with giving are god-like. He would eat you out and finger your pussy, only to stop and leave you begging for him to go harder and faster.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s slow and sensual if you prefer vanilla sex; he doesn't mind if that is what you like; his cock would reach your cervix anyway. When you’ve gotten used to his length, it’ll feel like the first time with more flare. When he goes rough and fast, you will be climaxing with a scream.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t prefer them, but there are days when he wants you on his cock in the middle of class. When he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into an empty classroom, that means he’s desperate and knows he can get away with it. He’ll be fine; he knows what he wants and will leave you wanting more throughout the day.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

If you like it a little bit rough, Lucifer can bring in more challenging positions or some more intense BDSM. Fucking in the office or an empty classroom is a risk too, especially if you are loud.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Lucifer can go for a long time if there is enough preparation. Usually, he stops if you’ve had enough of it for one night; he wouldn’t want to destroy you completely. Sometimes, he’s a bit exhausted from the student council work and dealing with his brothers, so there are days when you have to be the one taking charge.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Lucifer owns a whip, for some reason~ He’s got some rope to tie you up with, and at times, he can just use anything around him to spank you with, like a leather binder or a ruler. If he owns anything else, it’s probably something he bought to use on you~

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He would tease you if you were being extra bratty. He’s a serious demon, so he would always maintain a professional demeanor if you two were in public. The teasing is subtle, like when he gives your thighs a light caress or when he sneaks his fingers under your skirt to rub your clit through your panties.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He knows how to set his volume low; his grunts and moans are like a whisper on your skin, making you shiver. His breathing is also soft and deep; it always puts you in a trance. Some of his moans can be guttural if you tighten around him or deepthroat him. You can always just make him loud ;)

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

He can let you take charge at times; he loves you so damn much that he can let you be the one ordering him around or pleasuring you~ It was a bit humiliating at first, but it didn't matter anymore; if anyone had to order him around, it either has to be Lord Diavolo or you. You are his Master, after all~

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lucifer’s cock is huge. It’s veiny and long with a crimson tip. He can grip his shaft in his hands, and its veins add to its girth. It’s almost overwhelming to look at, and you can't help but wonder if Lucifer is proud to have such a massive tool. He is very much proud~

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is mildly high, but he knows how to control it as if it’s not there. He can never show it around anyone; otherwise, he reveals his weakness to you. If his brothers ever found out, he would be livid.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

When the aftercare is over, he will make sure you are comfortable in bed with him. He will fall asleep shortly after you fall asleep.

[nullifi-blr]

A witch, a simple alchemist, a captain of a borrowed ship, and nobody's daughter

I have been working on this piece for nearly a week now, and its FINALLY DONE!!!! If you want some PNGs of the character renders, and some of my thoughts on this piece, read below! (warning for spoilers though!)

SO. the season's first off. Henry is in spring, Fia is in summer, Irina is in autumn, and Zirk is in winter.

Henry is in spring because of Leonora's curse. Its the most obvious one.

Irina is in autumn because that's where they found Irina in the Glade.

Zirk is in winter because of his final deal with the winter fairy

Fia's in summer because why not (sorry there's not much behind this)

no solo headshot of shank, just because he was just a head. but here's phillip, spirtel, and bukvar!

Below is an outfit detail breakdown for each character!

Henry - he's got spoonie tied onto his belt! - i usually draw hank without any shine in his eyes, but i added a little bit, as i would place this drawing after the final episode. his curse is lifted, so he gets some light back in his eyes - the blue scarf on his waist is mostly just a callback to the ocean, and because i wanted him to have some pop of color - i associate henry with the earth or sea if we're talking in a cosmic sense. - also! henry still wears his ring from izzy, just on the necklace and not a finger. i think he'd be too hopeful/sentimental to let it go.

Fia - emily brings up in a short rest that she associates fia with the moon, which is great cause i do too - her skirt is torn and ripped because i hc she doesn't often mend clothes or doesn't know how to. its also dirty because she lives in the woods. - the shawl she wears would have probably been a gift from batilda. it has sword embroidery on the hem, so it was a first act of training fia as a blade.

Irina - i really wanted irina to feel ethereal, since she's the daughter of a god. its why her eyelashes are white, but zirk's aren't. its also why she has silver freckles - patchwork dress! not just because its mentioned in the episode, but because fia likes people who make their own clothes. - i kiiinda associate irina with the sun, but i moreso associate her with the stars. the night sky needs both the moon and stars, always together <3

Zirk - i wanted to include zirk's little stirstick from his art and ep 1, so i'm glad i got to do that! - zirk's lineart has so many layers because of the glass bottles. - all the metal with zirk is bronze, because i wanted him to keep a warm palette, and felt gold would clash too much - those sleeves can roll down and make this labcoat regulation i prommy, he's just too busy serving

Thanks for reading!! Eldermourne is my favorite campaign, and I really wanted to take some time to make a piece that I knew I'd love. If all goes well, I'm looking to get this uploaded to the NADDpod fanart gallery, so you'll be able to buy a print! UPDATE: Until it's on the gallery, you can buy the print HERE!

[shootingstarpilot]

i keep imagining maces pov of when qui-gon gets decked and its so funny to me. this poor man just wants to know where his kid his friends padawan is but unfortunately he only has his his stupid friend whos panicking rn, a troll, and a very concussed soldier (who recognizes him??) who is having the most eventful and stressful days of his life to get any information from. and also theres a dead sith there. rip mace windu shout-out to him for not strangling qui-gon immediately after cody and co leave

...okay, yeah, i'm running with this.

because- mace has valiantly put off punching qui-gon. he has resisted every temptation. violence is so rarely a useful tool. he has not punched qui-gon. he will not punch qui-gon.

he is a jedi.

even when qui-gon returns to the temple self-righteous and indignant and without the child under his care-

he is a jedi.

even when they get the call, and he looks at qui-gon, who looks back at him, hopeful and eager and certain that he will be the one to go, to return, to repent, and mace thinks you do not deserve this and sends him anyway-

he is a jedi.

even when the shuttle returns, dropping out of orbit and straight through mace's stomach when he makes it to the dock just in time to see the healers vanish around the corner, qui-gon standing empty-handed on the landing, staring after them, blood on his tunics and under his fingernails-

he is a jedi.

even when vokara looks them both in the eyes and says infection and trauma and intubate, even when qui-gon asks can i see him? and there's no hint of a we, even during those three awful days of fever where mace finds himself hovering outside the halls with ever more minor errands, feeling obi-wan fade and flicker in the force and occasionally hearing the screams of please and no-! and names he does not know-

even then.

he is a jedi.

three days after obi-wan is pulled from the bacta tank:

another errand. theoretically. for the life of him mace cannot remember what he came here to deliver. but then the door to obi-wan's room opens, and vokara steps out, still speaking, her voice warm, some recounting of one of qui-gon's many misadventures that landed him in her care, and then she turns and sees him and before the door shuts behind her-

"master mace?"

the voice is thin and thready and mace closes his eyes.

"all right?" he whispers to vokara.

she raises an eyebrow. "he's asking for you."

(mace will find out later that this is the first time since his return that obi-wan has dared to asked for anything.)

he steps up to the threshold.

"obi-wan," he says. "may i come in?"

at the nod, mace steps forward and lets the door slide shut behind him. he settles into the chair left faithfully at the side of the bed.

obi-wan looks- unwell.

this is not, perhaps, the most novel observation. but it is one thing to know where and how he'd spent his last year. it is another matter entirely to see the proof of it, even beyond the cavernous wound he'd come home with-

in his size and stature, much smaller than that of a healthy child of his age. in the thinness of his face, the look of hunted hunger. in the scarring on the knuckles of his hands, clenching spasmodically in the layered blankets.

in the way he watches mace.

"obi-wan," mace repeats, and with the sound of his name comes an easing of the weight on his shoulders, each syllable fading into a sigh of relief, and he hadn't known what to say even as he'd stepped into the room- there is so much that needs saying, so many words he cannot find-

he smiles, instead, and rests his hands on his knees. "i have missed you very much."

when obi-wan reaches for him, mace is ready.

he ends up settled on the edge of the bed, one hand around obi-wan's shoulder as the boy curls into his side. he tugs gently at the tangled knot of pain still clouding obi-wan's thoughts, feeding the threads into the force, and feels him relax, bit by bit.

he's not asleep. his grip on mace's robe is too tight. his breathing too fast.

'how are you feeling?" mace asks quietly.

"okay."

the response is immediate, easy, and entirely untruthful.

"do you- need to go?"

mace catches qui-gon's approach. feels him pause.

feels him retreat.

"no," he says. "not at all."

he is a jedi.

there is so much to grieve, in the next few weeks. so much. obi-wan swings between different types of silence- sullen, frightened, exhausted, dissociating. tattered and bleeding in the force. he kicks and punches and bites and sometimes does not leave his room for days on end. he scratches at his skin until he bleeds, picks at his meals with a dull disengagement, sleeps sporadically, if at all-

it is very difficult, sometimes, to not be angry at qui-gon.

but the first time he visits their apartment, obi-wan recoils hard and fast at the first leak of such sentiments from behind his shielding, and mace decides that they have had their full of violence.

he is a jedi.

and besides-

qui-gon talks to him. talks to others, too, who talk between themselves, for no one is willing to let them handle this alone. mace sits and listens and sees the bruises bloom on qui-gon's arms and legs from small hands beating back imagined enemies, and knows anger is not what's needed here.

it persists, yes, but it does not rule.

he is a jedi.

and then-

and then.

(the force is full of screaming.)

the temple lets them through and the gardens are burning and there is a corpse on the floor and obi-wan is-

gone, qui-gon says.

i don't know where. he's gone.

and for a moment mace can hardly breathe under the weight of the fear and the fury and the you have a habit of losing him, don't you?, and he catches the thought and breathes it out, recognizing its roots, its unfairness, drawing his focus to the sith, listening with one ear to qui-gon's recounting even as he presses a hand to the rift, searching for some leeway and finding none, feeling the pressure build behind his eyes, swiping impatiently at the blood drying under his nose-

then something hums.

the soldiers are immensely professional. clear-cut and firm and shielded in the force, understandably reticent with information. but the most disconcerting thing by far...

they look to him.

all of them.

there's a familiarity there.

he's safe with us, the commander says, and looks at him.

safe-with-us, echos the force. safe-with-lightning-safe-with-fighting-safe-with-dying-safe-with-surviving-safe-with-us.

what else can he do but accept it?

he is a jedi.

and then qui-gon-

qui-gon-

well.

he is a jedi.

so he crouches next to him, rests a hand on his shoulder, and when qui-gon turns a shell-shocked gaze on him, says quietly- "come on. let me see."

he is a jedi.

he does not punch qui-gon.

but he is not entirely immune to schadenfreude.

[artsfavoritehorn]

Can you please do headcanons where you work at a restaurant as a server/bartender and Art is your S/O and he comes in? OMG PLEAAASE this would make my heart so happy 🥺

It took me a while but these headcanons are finally complete, thank you for your patience! At first it started out as a more traditional headcanons list but as I was writing it, it kind of turned into a fic but I liked the headcanons format so I just stuck with it lol 😅 I hope you enjoy 😊🥰💕

Word count: around 1.5k✍️

No warnings for this one btw, this is all just sweet fluff 😇💜

(Also credit to @hauntedfoodie as well for coming up with the cocktail recipe! 😄🫶)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

-Working as a bartender and server was an extremely tiring job, ESPECIALLY when you had to work around the holidays

-It seems like the restaurant would go into holiday mode earlier and earlier every year, your manager already having made your coworkers put up multicolored string lights and an assortment of glittery holiday decorations all over the walls and in the windows ✨🎄🎁

-You would be lying if you said that the decor didn’t brighten up the place and make it ever so slightly easier to bare, but it was definitely still a draining job as it would usually be so much busier around this time of year

-You were working on one of the rare slightly-more-manageable nights when suddenly, you noticed your boyfriend Art strolling up to your bar casually, wearing his Santa suit so he could better blend in ✨

-Usually, even though you loved to see him, you preferred that he stayed home or just didn't come in to your workplace to visit you, not wanting to draw too much attention to your boyfriend as to not make anyone suspicious of a clown constantly showing up on the premises, but you suppose the Santa suit helped a bit. You watched as he comically shimmied into his seat, the harsh clang of his heavy trash bag still able to be heard amongst all the commotion of the restaurant; it didn't take long for the few people sitting on either side of him to get up and walk away without another glance back 🤡🎅

-Trying not to make it obvious that you had any relation to him, you walked over to the clown like you would any other customer; Art’s eyes lit up instantly, his slender fingers giddily waving at you and blowing you a heavily exaggerated kiss as he noticed your presence 😙

-You leaned over slightly and whispered “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be laying low for now”, concerned that his behavior seemed to be getting bolder and bolder as the days progressed closer to Christmas; you had come to terms with having to accept Art's lifestyle, but you were just worried about him getting in trouble or hurt- he's reassured you many times that everything's under control and that he'd be fine, but you still worried about him occasionally 🥺😓

-Art shrugged his shoulders playfully in response, pointing at himself and then back at you followed by a heart shape with his hands as he smiled at you innocently :3 🫶😃😋

-You sighed and shook your head. “Well, if you're gonna stay here for a bit, you're gonna at least need to have a drink so my managers don't get suspicious and kick you out for loitering on the property"

-Art pouted and folded his arms, the thick fabric of the Santa suit bunching up around his thinner frame, his tongue sticking out in disgust 😒

-You rolled your eyes. "I know you think alcohol is gross, babes, but I think I might know something I could make for you that you might actually like.” Art gave you a look as if to say “I don't believe you in the slightest- but good luck” and moved to rest his arms along the dark wooden bar, his focus shifting to absentmindedly running his fingertips back and force over its smooth surface

-You leaned over and grabbed a clean glass. “Alright, just give me a few minutes, I've got a couple of drink orders I need to fill first and then I'll bring you yours.” Art huffed silently, forever the impatient baby, but ultimately nodded in understanding 💖

-You turned and wandered back to the other side of the bar, grabbing a few extra glasses and placing them under the taps for the other patrons. Once their orders were fulfilled, then you got started on Art’s special cocktail 🥂

-You decided to go for something festive and classic, something very fruity and sweet that you knew would mesh with the clown’s tastebuds in a more pleasing manner than the hard liquor he had been offered in the past

-You decided to craft Art a cocktail made with moscato wine, white cranberry juice, lemon lime soda, and a smattering of whole cranberries on the top; perfect for the holiday season, and perfect for your clown boyfriend who loved his sweets 🥰🍹

-Strolling back over to his seat, you found Art reaching over the bar, trying to grab a handful of the little sharp wooden skewers you would use for fruit in certain drinks- when he noticed you a few steps away, Art quickly pulled his hand back into his lap and tried to feign innocence once more, pretending to whistle and look back and forth ⚔️🙄🤗😁

-You shook your head and smiled at him, placing a napkin down in front of him with his drink on top

-Art’s eyes went wide with curiosity at the sight of the bright cranberries floating atop the bubbly liquid, his eyes soon meeting yours again as he cocked his head slightly in heightened interest 😲😍

-”Trust me, you'll love it. I made sure it was extra sweet for my sweet-loving clown” you told him with a grin as you leaned against the counter, saying the last part in a hushed tone so only he could hear 😌💖🍬🍭

-Art tapped his finger against his temple and pointed back at you with it to signify he understood, his grin blossoming wider across his features bashfully at your words before glancing back down at the drink and wringing his hands together in excitement

-Before you could wait to see if he liked it, another patron across the bar waved you down. “I'll be back soon, I hope you enjoy it!” you told him, heading back to attend to your other customers

-You couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as you worked from across the bar as Art lifted the glass to his mouth and took a big sip, chugging the entire thing down in one go (he always drank way too quickly, you made a mental note to remind him to savor his drinks in the future lol)🍾😂

-The glass made contact with the bar, clinking pleasantly as it did so, Art’s eyes meeting yours again as he motioned for you to return to him when you could get the chance

-”Sooo, how was it? Have I finally found an alcoholic drink that you can actually enjoy?”, you asked him. Art’s smile grew as he nodded in rapid succession, patting his tummy to indicate that he thought it was delicious 🤤😋

-Your smile mirrored his as you leaned over to grab his empty glass, giving the counter a quick wipe to get rid of any condensation left behind with the cleaning rag in your other hand. “Good, I'm glad you liked it! I had a sneaking suspicion that you'd prefer something much sweeter.”

-Art nodded again and motioned with one finger up for you to wait a minute as he leaned over, grabbing his red spray painted garbage bag and rummaging through it 🎒

-Resting your elbows on the bar, you realized that Art was trying to give you money for the drink; an array of dirtied coins was plopped onto the bar top as he began counting out the loose change piece by piece (most of it consisting of primarily pennies) 🪙💰

-”Baby, don't worry about that, it's on the house. It was a practice drink for me anyway, and I don't mind buying a drink for good ole Saint Nick- especially for a super cute one at that.” You winked at him with a smirk as you placed more glasses under the taps, beginning to fill them up with various golden hued lagers for the other patrons' seemingly never ending slurry of orders 🍺🍻

-Art’s mouth opened in surprised shock before grinning again, waving the compliment off cheekily and kicking his feet a bit. With one swipe, he pushed all of the loose change back into the bag, the tiny circles of metal clanging around as they fell in amongst the array of other interesting items that he carried around with him 🤭

-The clown motioned to his wrist as if he was wearing a watch, silently asking you how much longer you had to be here for until your shift was over. “I’ve got about 2 more hours, love. And then I'll meet you back at home and we can cuddle and watch some movies, sound good?” ⏱️⌚️⏳

-Art smirked and nodded, satisfied as he stood up from the bar stool and stretched dramatically 🙆

-He grabbed his trash bag and ceremoniously slung it over his shoulder, blowing a kiss to you slyly before turning to leave the restaurant 😘💋

-You pretended to wipe down the bar as you watched him walk away, the bright red backside of his jolly disguise slowly becoming smaller in view before disappearing completely into the holiday hustle and bustle 🎁🎄🎅✨

Extra post bar scenario:

-When you arrived back home later that evening, you were surprised to find about 30 bottles of moscato and a huge pile of bagged cranberries that had definitely seen better days all lined up on your kitchen counter; you found Art sitting cross-legged on the couch in the living room, still wearing his Santa outfit and pretending to intently read a book, miming laughter at certain parts as his finger skimmed across the page he had randomly opened on 📚

-You confronted the clown about the bottles of wine, to which he simply put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders, the start of a signature smirk playfully skirting on the corners of his black painted mouth 😏😁😋💖

[karinadele]

drabble on pharma x human reader

warnings: its pharma, everything is fucked

just me listing ideas and character traits so i can write...

Actions/Behaviors:

-would keep you on him at all times as if you were a pocket hamster

-600% will drug you

-preserving head and organs after you die

-mnemosurgery to pry into your brain and know everything (perhaps attempt a digital link with him so he's connected 24/7 like a sparkbond)

-physically consuming organs mainly heart/brain

-wants to cut you open while conscious to see your organs (will sew you back up after ofc) (will be sedated for no pain, but will be awake)

-propofol abuse? (maybe fuck you on and off it just to see how you react)

-will attempt to physically massage your heart in an attempt to maintain your heart rate. (and to have control over your life literally)

-would scarification his red cross on your chest (? horny tramp stamp? wow just thinking hurts)

-would withhold medication until you submit and beg (if you're too stubborn, he will slip just enough in without you knowing to keep you going)

oocs??:

-would poison you just to watch you suffer and then antidote you? (idk to make it where reader knows, or reader thinks it was a 3rd party. maybe pharma has gaslighted reader into thinking its external but always have an inkling?)

-would attempt to infuse you with energon/nucleon (if nucleon stops bots from transforming, what would it do to humans?)

-would try to forcibly physically put you in his spark

-would he remove limbs so you're stuck?? (i dont think so... but i do believe he will try to modify you)

-i want to see him use his chainsaw to engrave lines over reader? forming more blocky lines to resemble Cybertronians?

-probably drinks your blood, or at least taste it (maybe keep it in a vial in subspace at all time)

-permanent drug state?

-super ooc, i want to see him repaint/make reader repaint his autobot insignia with their blood

light analysis:

-pet names: dear, darling, occasionally love?? (not sweetspark??)

-ends sentences with "hmm?" / snarky

hmm? ah. tch tch, ah, ah! don't touch that! tongue clicking, lots of italics. (writing in his mind is hard...)

snarky, haughty, controlling, obsessive (to reader), does not want to see you in pain, but will actively cause you to be in it, naturally manipulative, more smirks than grins.

i want to say gaslighting, but will ease on it when he warms up to reader...?

internal personality conflict:

i see him as finding a human annoying, and originally toying, very traumatic shit, then warming up. (insert charm) not accepting that he has feelings, he pushes them into obsession. and acts them out in questionable physical actions.

thoughts:

quotes are ooc, just what i think he would justify his actions;

"no its not love, i just need them with me at all time."

"my spark isnt flaring harder because of love, its because they belong in there"

"they may not live long, but i can preserve them" (leads to infusing energon?)

soft pharma (say no tarn tcog or any incidents, or you pull him out of issues) (shit how did first aid get an evalv from rung but pharma didnt?? bro was sane then!!)

-would be tender, lots of physical affection (still)

-would organ harvest for you

-would tease you and be annoying (instead of internalizing it and coming out obsessive.)

[ekingston]

Hello! So sorry to bother, but have you had any updates on the Word-Stream/Speechify situation?

Just one: like I posted on Xitter and Bluesky last night, as of yesterday afternoon, the links to individual works as they were listed on WordStream are gone from both Google and Bing. Hurray, right? Surely we’re all sick of this whole debacle and there’s far more important things to worry about. If all is well that ends well, surely there’s no need to still be angry.

Well, I am. Here’s why:

When I checked on Wednesday, the links to my own work on WordStream were still listed. So rather than it taking a week after Cliff Weitzman first hid the fanwork from view, it took a little over a week from the moment he first promised privately that they would be deleted. Which, fine. Perhaps Cliff didn’t really know what he was talking about when he gave that timeframe. Or maybe he told a little white lie to create the impression that he always intended to do the right thing. It seems more likely to me, though, that Cliff still believed—even after the backlash he received—that he would get away with honoring only individual takedown requests. Or worse, that he needed just a little bit more time with the stolen material to figure out an alternative way to profit off it—preferably without us noticing, this time.

But who knows? I certainly don’t! All we can do is speculate, because publicly, Cliff Weitzman has remained completely silent on his copyright infringements. All we got was the initial justifications he and his sockpuppet accounts used in comments on the original Reddit and Tumblr posts. After those were so understandably ill-received, Cliff only ever communicated with a few individual authors who contacted him directly and repeatedly, blocking people who addressed the issue on Twitter and quietly distancing himself from WordStream by deleting a blog he’d posted to Speechify.com dated December 20th—where Cliff promoted WordStream’s platform specifically to fanfiction readers. (See my enormous timeline post for details and screenshots of said posts before they were taken down.)

And this is why I’m still angry: As long as Cliff Weitzman faces no real consequences for his actions, he won’t see a need to own up to his mistake; and as long as he’s able to delay taking responsibility, this isn’t over. This didn’t end well.

After all, wasn’t this the next-best scenario for Cliff, second only to him turning WordStream into a (for him) effortless, infinite money-making machine? He took something we provided for free and fed it to AI so he could more easily put it behind a paywall; we found out and protested; Cliff quietly erased all evidence of his crime; and we went—almost equally quietly—away.

I want to make sure you know that I continue to be genuinely amazed and intensely grateful for how quickly the news about WordStream’s copyright infringement was shared—and continues to be shared—throughout fandom, on tumblr in particular. If it hadn’t been for our collective outcry here and on Reddit, WordStream would very likely still be up in its original form, and Weitzman would be reaping the benefits (those subscription prices were steep) today.

But it’s been frustrating to see that, with the exception of mentions in articles on Substack and Fansplaining (the latter of which is a particularly awesome and thorough read on fandom’s decontextualization) and a Fanlore listing, our outrage never really spilled out beyond the safely insulated, out-of-the-way spaces that are tumblr, a handful of subreddits and bluesky. And I believe that—unfortunately—we are collectively responsible for that part, as well.

Most of us seemed content to only spread the word by circulating the same two posts on tumblr. (Have we all given up completely on every other social media platform? Am I the only remaining straggler?) And soon after Cliff Weitzman hid WordStream’s fanfiction category from view, our interest in the issue took a sharp dive even there. Are we genuinely deceived into believing the issue has been fully resolved? Do we truly fail to realize that Weitzman’s refusal to admit that what he did was wrong left the door wide open for the next greed-driven tech bro to wander through? Or is the true naivety in thinking that, as a community, we can keep this kind of attack on fandom from happening again? Has our disillusionment already gotten that bad?

However the situation spins out from here, Cliff’s actions will set a precedent. If we fail to show Cliff and his ilk that attempts to profit off fandom’s unpaid labor have consequences, their tech companies will keep trying until something eventually sticks. They might be a little smarter about it next time; obscure their sources a bit better, maybe leave the titles and the authors’ names off. Or maybe they’ll go a bolder route: maybe next time they cross the line they’ll do it boldly enough for IP holders to take notice and stop tolerating fanwork entirely.

Doesn’t that make you angry, too?

There’s this whole other mess of thoughts I would love to be able to untangle about how commercial influence is contributing to the steady erosion of fandom’s foundations, but I’m tired, and other people have said it all much more eloquently than I ever could. Seriously, go read that article on Fansplaining. Or listen to the podcast version of it. Better yet, as long as you’re wearing your noise-canceling headphones, go listen to a podfic of one of your favorite fandoms’ works, and enjoy the collaborative joy and creativity of the people who Cliff Weitzman refuses to believe exist. (In one of Speechify’s other blogs, Cliff claims there are only 272 podfics on AO3. Would you like to run that ChatGPT prompt again, Cliff?). Honestly, much like Cliff Weitzman’s infuriating denial of the fact that fandom fucking has this covered, thank you very much, there’s so. Many. More. Things for us to talk about. There’s the connotations of WordStream’s dubious ‘upload’ button, for instance, or the fact that the app scraped (and in some cases, allegedly, still lists) copyright-protected original fiction as well, or WordStream’s complete lack of contact information, which is illegal for an internationally operating app. And oh! Has anyone reported more thoroughly on Cliff’s app’s options to ‘simplify’ or ‘modernize’ uploaded works, or—my own very favorite abomination—to translate them into something Cliff calls ‘Gen-Z Language’? Much like his atrocious AI book covers, it would be hilarious, if it didn’t make steam come out of my ears.

Anyway, there it is. I highly recommend you do all of that. And then, if you aren’t familiar with it already, go do some research re: fair use and your rights as the copyright owner of your works. A good number of people commenting on this controversy expressed stunned surprise or fearful hesitation about claiming any sort of ownership of their fanfiction. The more informed we are about our rights, the more willing we will be to defend them.

Please don’t stop writing or sharing your work. If you can’t bring yourself to work on your WIPs today (trust me, I get it), post about this situation instead. Tweets, skeets, whateverthefucks—about WordStream’s theft, about how this reflects on Speechify’s already shady business practices, about how Cliff’s actions and justifications have personally affected you. You’re welcome to share or copy my posts on these platforms, but since Cliff already blocked me, I very much prefer you post your own. If you do, call Cliff Weitzman by his full name and tag or include both WordStream and Speechify to ensure Weitzman will recognize he has both a personal as well as a professional stake in handling the situation with integrity. Leave your concerns in reviews on the Speechify app. (We weren’t provided with a more appropriate place to put them, after all!) Consider calling for a Speechify boycott until Cliff accepts accountability for his actions.

Do avoid making exaggerated claims, and don’t call for physical retaliation against Cliff’s person or his property. We don’t want to give him or Speechify even the weakest of grounds to claim defamation or threats of violence. Focus on the facts: they’re incriminating enough by themselves. Show Cliff that we’re determined to keep bringing up his company’s wrongdoings in public spaces until he demonstrates that he understands why taking these freely shared fanworks and monetizing them was wrong, and takes steps to ensure it won’t happen again.

One last thing—and this is really more of a general reminder—please stop suggesting I handle this situation for you. People have come to me asking for action items. The resulting flashbacks to my days as an office assistant were extremely upsetting. In all seriousness, casting me as some sort of coordinator or driving force behind this backlash actively hurts the cause. Not only does it downplay fandom’s collective efforts, it also makes our message extremely vulnerable. It would be all too easy for Cliff to silence one singular source. Wikipedia will not maintain mentions of this controversy as long as it leads only to Easter Kingston’s attempt to summarize what happened as it was happening. You only know my name because I stumbled upon WordStream’s theft and decided to get my friends involved. I am not more knowledgeable, more skilled or more angrily invested in this issue than you are (or can, or should, be). I draw pictures and I write stories and I worry about the shift I’m seeing in fandom after having been on this ride for even a few pre-livejournal rounds.

I’m not going to stop doing any of those things. But I am going to allow myself to step away for a bit, make my wife dinner, and catch up on our shows.

I trust you’ve got it from here.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Shot Down - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

He hates being told 'No'...

tw: codependency, manipulation.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

Sevika nods, once. But the sorrow lingers in her eyes.

"What about you?" she asks. "Will you be—?"

"I'll be here."

"Doing what?"

"There are a few threads to tie up. A handful of meetings with the chem-barons. Then a trip to the Terrarium. As soon as I'm done, I'll join Jinx and Viktor in the Aerie. By then, I anticipate the glyph will be in their crosshairs. And Violet, already cold. By the time her body's found at the Abattoir, Zaun will have a brand-new power source under wraps. One that will transform the city. Rewrite the past. Reshape our future."

From beneath his half-lidded eye, he watches Sevika absorb the words. Her face is immovable, but there are undercurrents of conflict in her forehead and jaw. Her mouth—kiss-swollen—parts, then shuts.

She can sense the charge or of excitement in him. The resolute sense of purpose. It compels her, as it always has.

But that sorrow—that strange, inexplicable sorrow—won't fade. Her hand, in his, won't let go.

Like she cannot shake the feeling he is gone for good.

Yielding to rare impulse, Silco kisses her. A kiss that goes from claiming to paying court with the same thread of savoring slowness.

She shivers, but doesn't answer.

"This is it, Sevika," he breathes. "After all these years. The moment we've been waiting for."

"I know." She swallows. "I know."

"What is it?"

"I guess—I didn't realize that today was the day."

"Neither did I. Not until last night. Jinx dispatched a message by crow."

"And you came here."

"To prepare you."

"You could've radioed."

"And start my day without a proper legover?"

The levity falls flat. Her expression doesn't alter. No low-slung smirk. No sly quirk of the brow. Just the sorrow, and a hand in his.

Again, he kisses her. Her eyes fall shut. The crude Shimmer veins on her cheekbone pulse like a wound seeping blood. He traces them with the folded fingers of his free hand, down to the curve of her throat.

The heat of her fresh-fucked body exerts an irresistible pull. Her skin is so richly scented. So electrifyingly sweet.

The countdown's in motion: six bells and a schedule from hell.

But need's got no use for a timepiece.

It's why, the past few weeks, he's sought her out, again and again. Home can always be leveraged against you. But a steadfast tether is the surest bulwark in a storm. And that storm's inside him: a restless cage of teeth and hunger and howling rage.

It's been that way since the blood game began. He's plotted every square; the pieces are in place. The checkmate is close.

Sevika's closer still. Her heat, her pulse, her body—all within reach.

All his.

Slowly, Silco eases her back across the rumpled sheets. Kisses her again, his hand roaming from her throat down to the bisecting line of breasts and belly and the damp vee of thighs. But when his palm delves between them, ready to begin preliminaries, he meets resistance. The solid muscles of her thighs flex shut, keeping his questing fingers out.

Frowning, Silco stops.

"Sevika?"

Her stare holds his, the way it's always done. But the light in her eyes has gone strange.

"You should go," she says. "Big day ahead."

"No chance of a victory lap?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Oh, I don't know." Silco insinuates his fingers an inch deeper. Her body gives a telltale tremor. "I've been in front, below, behind. But inside's where the real payoff is."

"You can't afford the distraction."

"It's a small one. Indulge me."

He dips his head, kissing the hollow of her breastbone. Tongues the groove of muscle down to the pucker of navel. There is salt caught in the fine hairs of her skin. Life, at its strongest, radiating under his lips.

"Don't," she says, but with a catch in her breath.

"You don't want to?"

"Not now."

"I can change your mind." He nuzzles the dense pooch of curls at her mons. Breathes in the heady musk of her. The faint quiver of her belly is a dead giveaway. "Just say the word."

Her cybernetic hand catches him by the nape. Gunmetal eyes lock with his own.

"The word's Kill It," she says.

The safeword—non-negotiable—stops him short.

He doesn't let go, but his hand slips away. He still wants her, so badly it hurts, except the hurt's now something he cannot put a name to. Conflict; self-doubt. Reflexively, his mouth seeks hers, an anchor amid the alienness.

This time, she lets the kiss linger: a simple contact of flesh-on-flesh. But a moment later, she gently, firmly, withdraws. Her good hand squeezes his, letting go before he has a chance to lock his fingers into hers.

Their clasp falls apart.

The tether's gone.

Sitting up, Sevika reaches, not for the vodka, but her smokes. Lipping a cigarette from the pack, she sparks up. Her hair—past her shoulders now, and growing ravishingly long with each week—falls forward, shielding her expression.

The smoke's a shield too. Behind it, he senses a strategic retreat.

"Go," she repeats, and it's not a tone that invites persuasion.

"You're turning me down."

"I am."

She is rifling through her drawer. Finding what she wants—an old horsehair brush that once belonged to Nandi—she leans over and begins brushing vigorously from the nape. He cannot see her face at all, and half-expects her to set fire to the glossy black locks with her cigarette.

He half-expects the flat to go up in flames, and engulf his pride with it.

"Sevika—"

She preempts whatever spiel he's preparing to spin. "Nothing personal. But a lot's riding on today. Especially with Jinx at the helm."

"She's not at the helm. I am."

"You've given her the tools. The gem. The runes. The map."

"I trust her to succeed."

"And I trust her to blow us sky-high. So, on the off-chance it happens, I'm prepping in advance." Silco watches the gliding play of muscles along her spine. The brushstrokes slow. Tossing her hair back, she takes one last drag, then grinds the butt into the ashtray. The smoke dispels, but her shield holds. "You're the brains, Silco. I'm just the muscle. And I'd rather those muscles be ready to roll. For Zaun's sake."

"Is that why I'm being evicted? Out of patriotic duty?"

"Partly."

"And the rest?"

"The rest's between me and mine."

"Sevika—"

"Next time, sir, I'd suggest starting your day with a cold shower."

Silco stares. The snark is vintage Sevika. But there's something oddly forced to it. A blistering bite that goes beyond her usual repertoire.

It unsettles him. As does the bluntness of the brush-off. She's been at his beck and call for years. Never refused his advances. Never once held back. Hell, half the time, he never even has to ask. It's simply a matter of when.

Now her distance is a drawbridge, impassable.

And Silco realizes: he's forgotten what it is to be denied. To be made to heel.

To feel human.

Inexorably, the rage cuts through. At himself, for wanting. At her, for withholding.

And rage, he can work with.

"If you insist," he says mildly. "Though I was going to share the rest."

"The rest?"

"The game-plan after Vi's out of the picture." A beat. "And how Noxus enters into it."

That gets her attention.

Her head swivels, just a fraction. Her slitted eyes seek his. Silco says nothing. He only smiles. A smile that is the equivalent of a card leveled across a poker table. On its surface, stenciled in bold black print: an ace of spades. On its flipside, a handwritten scrawl: Fuck You.

She had her chance, and she's squandered it.

Now, they'll play it his way.

"So," she says quietly, "you're still holding out on me."

"We can't always get what we want."

"Except for you, huh?"

"My wants are Zaun's wants." Lazily, he rises. "Zaun's wants are mine."

"And the rest?"

"In time."

His clothes are a heaped mess across the floorboards. He'd allowed himself a spot of spontaneity, where ordinarily he'd fold them first. Now it strikes him as a warning sign. Trust: creeping from the corners of his control. Tempting him to let it bleed all the way through.

He'll never make the same mistake twice.

Methodically, he dresses. Trousers, shirt, socks. Shrugging on his waistcoat, he adjusts the lapels, and begins tying the cravat. In the mirror, Sevika's stare roams. There is a bit of a voyeur in her. She's always liked to watch him slinking into his clothes, same way Nandi enjoyed watching him slither out of them. Something about the way the movements limn his scarred musculature, his fingertips spidering across buttons and fastenings, puts her into a dark-eyed reverie.

Silco's never minded. It's no different from when he watches her kill at his command.

Today, it's different. Something in her eyes—in their raw steeliness—is telling. It's not her old look: the one from when he'd just been smooth-talking Sil, and she was just a girl with a good right hook. The way she'd look at him then: an unguarded stare that saw past the layers of charm and calculation he put on for the rest of the world. That saw the man inside.

All the parts of him, dark and light, laid bare.

Now, it's a look that sees too much. And, seeing, understands that there's nothing left.

[lyricwritesprose]

Me versus a fanfic idea, trying to cohere

Having been watching some of "My Adventures With Superman" lately, and I have become kind of obsessed with a crack idea that came to me last night at fuck o'clock in the morning, that being: what if (in the MAWS continuity or any one in which the Kents are both alive) Jonathan and Martha got roped into briefly housing or fostering a teen after Clark was out on his own?

I mean. Like. Imagine you're this kid. You are staying with the most tragically uncool individuals on this planet, but they're honestly nice, they aren't bothered by all the stuff that got you labeled A Troubled Youth or the gender stuff you may have going on or any of that, they just seem fundamentally Able To Roll With It, and, okay, this is going to be fine. It's temporary anyway. Just keep out of trouble.

And they have an adult son who comes around sometimes? He's kind of nice too. Maybe twenty-one, twenty-two, he's built like a moose and you'd think he'd be imposing but he's kind of shy and awkward and somehow just fundamentally Not Like the people who beat you up before, so you're pretty chill with him. He knows all the good places on the farm to sit and think, or sit and draw. One time when he comes around he shows you the creek and you learn all about the frogs and the crawdads and the snakes. Tells you about the corn snake he rescued once. Stuff like that.

Only some things really don't add up.

Like, there's never a car in the driveway when he shows up. And it's not on weekends or anything like that, it's weird times.

And there's a note on the fridge that says, "If you drink all the milk please replace it THIS MEANS YOU," and before long you figure out it's gotta be meant for him, because he will take a gallon and finish it a glass at a time and who can even do that without throwing up? Wasn't there some kind of ghastly TikTok challenge about that?

And when you joked to his Dad and Mom that he seems to have a real superpower for figuring out whether there is going to be pie, you got such weird, almost nervous looks that you quickly dropped the subject.

And one time you swear he appeared out of absolutely nowhere to walk you back to the house because Mr. Peterson's bull broke the fence and is wandering this way. (He was the first one to realize this. How did he realize this? He's sort of guiltily evasive on the subject.)

And he reassures you one time that you don't actually need to fear the Kansas Mothman because he accidentally started that legend. How? He really doesn't want to talk about it.

What with one thing and another, you start wondering…

Maybe he's a ghost.

Maybe something awful happened and he can't move on. You don't want to suspect the Kents, they are honestly pretty top-notch for parental types (especially after some of the ones you've known) but other people in the town? You know personally how ghastly a small town can be to That Weird Kid. Maybe something really bad happened.

(Maybe it could happen to you too.)

So you've got to figure out what's going on so you can get justice for your friend. You start to investigate. Smallville does have rather more than its fair share of Weird Shit—like possibly a lot more—but you're not really getting anywhere. And it occurs to you that you don't really have the wherewithal to go and try to find—well, let's not put too fine a point on it, to find an unmarked grave—that could be anywhere.

Meanwhile the world has at this point in time started to see some Seriously Weird Shit, although at this point it's largely In Other Places because that's where everything in the world happens, there is absolutely Nothing Significant In Kansas and probably never will be, but it gives you an idea. Slightly insane and scary idea, but you've hit so many dead ends that it might be worth it.

You're going to try to contact Superman and see if he can use his rumored X-ray vision to figure out what happened to Clark.

…

Just to be clear, I have no idea what the ultimate punchline is for this piece of ridiculous meandering is, and it's the sort of thing that does require a pretty good punchline. So I don't know if it's ever actually going to get written. On the other hand, it is one of my favorite dishes, which is Canon Characters Helping Queer Kid, with a heavy helping of Following Logic-like Structures To Wrong Conclusions sauce.

So I thought I might post the idea, because I have this lovely optimistic belief that sometimes, I am in fact extremely funny, and tumblr is a place that often eggs me on.

[swiftfootedachilles]

honestly i was so mad when i watched that orgy scene in s11 and at the whole monogamy situation bc wdym they're not already monogamous without having to talk about it? as if they're not borderline obsessed with each other and also jealous asf and they constantly was being pulled apart from each other through the whole show, how can ian or mickey want somebody else after all shit they went through? i just hope that they didn't actually fuck anyone and just banged in the bathroom or smth😭also when i see fics with gallavich/omc? 💀 saw this from a popular writer and i was like hell nah im not reading ts

no for fucking real those 2 are the most jealous men to ever walk the planet

on one hand i get it. they both had insecurities that made them feel like the other wouldnt want to only sleep with them for the rest of their lives. ian is the only guy mickey canonically dates and has sex with multiple times. mickey felt like ian would eventually leave him like he had in the past also multiple times.

so in the first episode the monagamy conversation seemed normal to me. they literally both specifically say "i dont want you to fuck anyone else" and mickey was obviously just waiting to see ians answer because he wanted to do whatever ian wanted. if he did write down "open relationship," it wouldve been because he thought thats what ian wanted. personally i think he didnt write anything down because he was still trying to grasp the concept of him and ian being a "normal" married couple that communicated heathily and didnt run away and flirt with/fuck other people when they got scared.... plus he actually cant spell monogamy hes a dyslexic with an 8th grade education

so that episode was fine on its own. if they wouldve left it at that, it wouldve been a silly cute moment in their bumpy marriage. but then the writers had to make that stupid ass orgy episode. first of all why the shit would they NEED to be friends with other gay men, and WHY ARE THE ONLY OPTIONS TO EITHER BE THEIR FRIENDS OR FUCK THEM??? IT LITERALLY MAKES NO SENSE. DID THEY NOT JUST DECIDE IN EPISODE ONE THAT THEY WERE GONNA BE MONOGAMOUS?

i actually cannot stand how the writers (and the fandom by extension) cant let gay characters have their boundaries and be left alone. why the fuck do they have to be open to straight sex and orgies and nonmonogamy and being verse WHY CANT GAY PEOPLE HAVE BOUNDARIES. CAN YOU IMAGINE IF THERE WAS RANDOMLY A SCENE IN SEASON 11 WHERE TAMI ASKED LIP 'HOW DO YOU KNOW YOURE STRAIGHT IF YOUVE NEVER GOT FUCKED IN THE ASS BY A GUY?' AND THEN HE ACTUALLY WENT OUT AND DID IT??? YOU CANT IMAGINE IT BECAUSE IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN THEY ONLY DO THIS SHIT WITH GAY CHARACTERS!!!!

the inability to understand that gay people can also have preferences and hard limits actually blows my mind. and if you dont like it youre somehow a prude or dont understand the characters. actually i fear i understand the characters more than the writers do.

and im okay with showing characters experiment! but its very telling that in Shameless, it only happens with queer characters who are pretty fucking firm in their sexual identity and boundaries. why did debbie have to fuck a gay guy in season 11. why do ian and mickey have to be verse why do ian and mickey have to be polyamorous. why did ian have to fuck a woman to "truly know" hes gay. why did svetlana have to all but announce shes a lesbian but still date kev instead of just date vee. why does this only happen to gay characters!!!

the trope of queer men specifically being easy and dtf is why the AIDS crisis was so deadly. because queer men are so open to sharing sex fantasies and sharing partners and sharing needles, right? its just a gay problem, and its better for all of us if theyre dead anyway, so lets ignore it until it goes away

maybe not every queer man needs to be written as a polyamorous verse switch bisexual-under-the-right-circumstances only-married-for-tax-reasons-not-because-they-love-their-life-partner idk! this is a haters only area so if you dont like me hating why are you here⁉️

[antianakin]

hi, hope your holiday season is going well! i was rewatching the phantom menace and got to the very end where obi-wan talks with yoda about his determination: "i will train anakin. without the approval of the council if i must" and wondered what your interpretation of that was.

my first thought was that either there are cases when jedi can train someone even if the council disagrees, or obi-wan is willing to give up being a jedi.

the first scenario seems possible (?) given that qui-gon's solution to the council's refusal to train anakin was to say that he would take him as a padawan and that obi-wan was ready for the trials; the council's immediate response was less so about anakin, but about how the code forbids two padawans, and that they will judge obi-wan's readiness. perhaps that implies that there's some level of autonomy where the council can't interfere with master-padawan choices; but yoda does go on to say that anakin's fate will be decided later, so maybe they have the final say? if so, then why would obi-wan think it possible to train anakin without the council's approval?

the other choice would be what's often in alternative au fics: obi-wan leaves to train anakin. it's more straightforward, but as someone who strongly believes that the core of obi-wan's character is being a jedi, i wonder if he would ever truly decide to leave the order on his own volition. i don't think its in character for him to do so for his own happiness (which is why the satine line "if you said the word" doesn't hit for me). here, it is more plausible since it's specifically for qui-gon and his belief in anakin as the chosen one who must be trained. but that also makes me wonder if obi-wan places his promise to qui-gon on higher priority than his commitment to the jedi, and what that says about his character.

any thoughts? it's possible i'm sleep-deprived and overthinking, but you have a much broader grasp on the sw universe than me.

I imagine that there is a middle ground here to some degree of Obi-Wan being able to train Anakin (and not leave the Order himself) without Anakin technically being considered a Jedi PADAWAN.

In later years, post Order 66, status as a padawan is determined primarily by just whether you got trained by someone who considered themselves a Jedi. Ezra is a padawan because he was trained by Kanan, Luke is a padawan because he was trained by Obi-Wan and Yoda. But BEFORE Order 66, during the Republic era, status as a Jedi padawan does require you to be a member of the Jedi Order officially. This doesn't stop a Jedi from just training someone on their own if they choose to do so, but it means that the person they train theoretically isn't supposed to claim the title of Jedi (they COULD, obviously, this isn't something that would likely be super enforced, but if it got back to the actual Jedi Order, things could be sticky for them).

However, Qui-Gon's claim that he's just going to take Anakin as his padawan also seems to imply that it's entirely possible for Jedi to just... do that, to just pick up a random Force sensitive child and bring them in and say "This one's my padawan now" without needing to wait for official approval from the Council. It's also possible Qui-Gon is pushing the limits of what he's technically allowed to do in order to get his way, and that he's hoping the Council will just let Anakin in the Order as a normal Initiate so he doesn't HAVE to do this. You can probably interpret it a few different ways.

So I think that Obi-Wan is saying he'll do whatever it takes. He'll train Anakin while remaining a Jedi himself, or he'll leave the Jedi to train him, and whatever else he has to do to complete his promise. I don't know that it's a super specific threat, he's leaving it vague for a reason.

I also think that, much like Qui-Gon before him, he's not truly expecting to have to follow through with it. Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon use this as an ultimatum to try to FORCE the Council to comply with their wishes in order to keep it from happening. They're both anticipating that the Council will fold and just make Anakin a member of the Order. Obviously by the time Obi-Wan makes his declaration, the Council's already decided to let Anakin into the Order anyway, Obi-Wan just doesn't know that yet.

I don't know that this is proof that Qui-Gon or Anakin were more important to Obi-Wan than his identity as a Jedi. The Jedi's first priority is supposed to be following the will of the Force, and Qui-Gon firmly believed that training Anakin was exactly that. Obi-Wan didn't really, but he's chosen to have faith in Qui-Gon's faith at this point. He's choosing to believe that Qui-Gon knew something he did not, so he's following the will of the Force by following Qui-Gon's will. I think, as far as Obi-Wan's concerned, he IS acting like a Jedi in this moment. It's perhaps not the Jedi he thought he'd be, but it's the Jedi he's committed to being now.

All that being said, I DO generally think it would be perfectly in character for Obi-Wan to leave the Order if he felt it necessary. It's been used twice now that I know of in officially licensed content: Jedi Apprentice by Jude Watson, and Padawan by Kiersten White (note that while Obi-Wan DOES fully leave the Order in JA, he doesn't actually officially do so in Padawan, but he does consider it pretty seriously for most of the book). In both stories, he doesn't leave for his own happiness, he leaves because he wants to stay on a particular planet in order to help some kids he's connected with and he's begun to doubt his place among the Jedi. By the end of the story, he generally has to realize that his desire to help these people is exactly why he DOES want to be a Jedi, because that's the path that will allow him to do that, and he chooses to commit to it more fully.

I think, at the end of TPM, Obi-Wan is in a place where he could absolutely feel like leaving the Order to train Anakin was the right thing to do if the Council makes it necessary. I don't know that he WANTS to, he'd RATHER be allowed to remain in the Order and train Anakin as a regular padawan, but he's chosen to believe that training Anakin is Important and so he'll do whatever it takes to accomplish that task, regardless of what that requires of him. Qui-Gon believed it was the will of the Force, and Obi-Wan made a promise. He WILL see it through. You could make a solid argument that no Jedi SHOULD see their identity as a Jedi as more important than doing the right thing, or following the will of the Force. The very concept of "being a Jedi" can become an attachment of its own, as we see with Anakin himself later. The reason he doesn't just leave the Order to marry Padme is because he can't let go of his desire to be a Jedi and what that means to him. Obi-Wan's willingness to let go of something that IS important to him is actually an example of a LACK of attachment rather than an indication of an attachment to either Qui-Gon or Anakin. I think most true Jedi would be willing to set that identity down if they absolutely had to.

Obviously Obi-Wan's motivations in this moment are somewhat complicated, his love and his grief for Qui-Gon ARE mixed in there, but I also genuinely believe that this is an important moment of GROWTH for Obi-Wan. His willingness to lay aside his identity as a Jedi in order to do something that Qui-Gon believed was the will of the Force IS a step forward for Obi-Wan towards that ultimate Jedi we know he becomes.

I think it's important to remember that Obi-Wan is, for the most part, a work in progress throughout the Prequels. By the end of TPM, he ISN'T the wise old Jedi Master that we know he'll become. He's still learning, still working on the skills that will allow him to grow into that person. So his statement that he'd be willing to leave the Order if it comes to it is both a moment of growth and an indicator that perhaps Obi-Wan is still GROWING. An important part of who Obi-Wan becomes is that he ultimately chooses to refuse to let go of being a Jedi, even in the darkest of circumstances, even when he's lost everything. So much as this is a step towards Obi-Wan learning to put his faith in the Force, it's also an indicator that this Obi-Wan ISN'T the one we meet on Tatooine in ANH yet, too.

Obi-Wan IS the Ultimate Jedi in so many ways, and being a Jedi IS important to him in-universe, but I don't think that his willingness to leave it if he had to in order to train Anakin is an indicator that it's not as important to him as Qui-Gon or Anakin.

[eusuntgratie]

as a certified mom(tm), what's the most common thing people get wrong when they write children?

ooooh i love this question! (adding certified mom to the resume STAT btw)

i think the MOST common thing people get wrong is the realistic development/representation of a child at a certain age. i see lots of fic where a three year old is speaking in full sentences, where an eight year old baby-talks all the time, where a six year old has literally no concept of what is happening in their life. i saw a good tumblr post that was a great resource for writing kids by age that i'll see if i can find. but with how many moms are on tumblr, i think just asking them... how would a five year old talk? or how would a ten year old handle this type of situation? would be a great start.

there are other things that are always jarring for me as a parent that someone who doesn't spend a lot of time with kids might not notice or care about.

the first is that your (young) kids are ALWAYS around. you are literally always responsible for where your kid is and what they are doing. if they aren't with you, you've made a plan for where they are, how they'll get there, when you'll pick them up, etc. there are exceptions of course (people living on huge pieces of land or in neighborhoods where they know everyone are more likely to have their kids running around and might not know exactly where they are, some people have multigenerational households and have a lot of help). but even in those cases, the parent still knows and is responsible for that kid. there's nothing wrong with writing a kidfic that isn't realistic just bc its cute or you like the trope. but as a parent its jarring as hell to have a character introduced as a parent (especially a single parent!) and then the kid is never around. i promise you that man is not fuckin' or going on dates as much as you want him to be 🤣 or if he is, it took a LOT of work or he has a LOT of support.

related to this, every parent i know is exhausted. if their love interest isn't attracted to their eye bags or letting them sleep instead of waking them up for sex, get outta my face. the sexiest thing a partner could do for a parent? LET THEM SLEEP.

related, we do fuck with kids in the house. (cough cough chris going on sleepovers 3x/week in fic 🤣). its okay. you can make keeping quiet sexy. you can lock the door so you'll hear it if they need something without traumatizing them. you can use a baby monitor to keep an eye or ear out. we don't wait until our kids leave to have sex, or some of us would hardly ever have sex.

a few random notes and i'll wrap up. kids aren't (and shouldn't be put in the position to be) solving their parents problems for them. most kids won't immediately trust a new adult, especially if that person is dating their parent and their other parent is still in their life, even if they really like that person. a parent would not leave their child with their brand new love interest unless they had literally no other option. i have some issues, but there are very few people i trust to be alone with my kid. someone i don't know well would never make it onto that list.

lastly, parents fuck up. we aren't perfect. i try really really hard to break generational shit, to do better, to be a good mom. i've read lots of books, done tons of therapy, found great resources, done parenting groups, i consult with other parent friends and friends who work in mental health about challenging situations. and i fuck up all the time. kids, even great kids, are little assholes sometimes. nobody's perfect, and that's okay. nobody's kid is a perfect little angel 24/7 and nobody is a perfect parent.

my askbox is always open and i always love to talk about writing! thanks for this it was a fun question to answer <3

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.