#i've been trying to restrain myself somewhat

[jedifieldnotes]

I ordered the art books last night because I was like...I need to know more. But I also don't need too much of an excuse to buy art books.

[invinciblerodent]

So, uh.... my boy has finally got a boyfriend, I finally got Gale's second romance scene, and... man. I have a LOT of thoughts and feelings, and woefully few words to describe them. (But I'll try to keep it vague, lol.)

I honestly love how the writers didn't shy away from writing this to be something so earnestly, unapologetically STRANGE, but so heartfelt and romantic. That Weave scene, while it sounds weird on paper, I honestly don't think I've seen a romance scene that was more representative of a character before. I already felt like I related to Gale quite a bit, but now, I feel like I see him on almost a whole new level. Now, he showed just how deeply INTENSE a man he is.

Yeah, there is a bit of showboating in him (though I've always kinda seen that as less of a "look how awesome I am" and more a "look how useful I can be, please like me"), and overall he presented a pretty restrained image- but now, with that recolored by this, I feel like it all goes to show how he really just YEARNS for someone to know him. It most shows in how after telling him that you love him too, he immediately throws all his doors open, invites you in, whisks you away to the part of the world that feels most meaningful to him, shows you all that he feels important- the Weave included.

He wants to show you everything, to share all that he feels is himself with you, be DEEPLY, INTIMATELY KNOWN by you... and he just wants to GIVE you so much, show you so much love, so much pleasure, so much OF HIMSELF, that just one set of limbs, just one of him isn't even enough! He wants to melt into you, hold you with more limbs than a human could ever possess, become one with you and give you all that he is while taking in all that you are...!!!!

And all he wants in return is that you accept him, with a his... unusual, eager, awkward, kind, smart-mouthed, somewhat melodramatic, loving, silly, deeply DEVOTED self, and his love that feels so vast, he wouldn't be able to fully express it even if there were three of him. This man is so full of love for you, he's all but bursting at the seams.

I feel... emotional. I don't think I've ever been THIS moved by a video game love scene (I can't even bring myself to call it a sex scene, these mfs didn't just have sex, they made love), like I know that feeling!!!! I've FELT that before!!!!! And I, as myself, a person, not as someone roleplaying a character, felt weirdly SEEN just now!!!!

I'm just overall very impressed.

.... Oh, and the way he drops on one knee to kiss his new, dwarfy boyfriend? Just adorable. I know all companions do that when they touch a shorter player character (I still love the way Karlach crumpled into my boy's arms in the hug scene), but it still feels kinda special.

(You just know these two assholes are going to be so deeply OBNOXIOUS about being in love. Like yes, they already were, but now that they know their feelings are mutual, they'll be like... fkin holding hands while traveling, and cuddling by the fire, and all that cutesy shit. God, I'm so endeared.)

[vuulpecula]

✖ @rickgrimesdoingrickthings cont.

Fox could not fault her friend for her reaction. Andrea had every right to be angry, terrified, upset, but there were things that she didn't understand. Information Fox hadn't shared, because...how could she? Ever since then, when she had to physically restrain Andrea to keep her from snapping Mark's neck, things had been different between them. Awkward, almost. She was still speaking with Andrea every day, assuring her that she would get to the bottom of it and that no, what she had seen wasn't because Fox was destined to be Mark's next victim ( she hoped ). That uncertainty, it is the reason behind her words. The question she's been trying to muster up the courage to ask him. Do you think about me that way?

She listened without making a sound to his confession. Hardly even breathing. There had been an inkling, a look that lasted a little too long, his obvious comfort around her, that had her questioning, but now... Now he was saying it. The four letter word she had been dreading and yet, now that it was there, between them, all she felt was relief.

"You misunderstood me," Fox shook her head, smiling a little to herself. Gaze on the ground. "I did read your file. I read all your files, but do not mistake my reaction to you after as me finally seeing you as human." She sucked in a long breath. He was being vulnerable. She could show she could be trusted with his vulnerability only by showing him the same.

After a moment, chewing on the right words to say, she looked at him once more. "I wanted you to be a monster, I wanted to see you the way everyone else did, but, you were only ever human to me. I think that was why I was so angry with you, so closed off." Amongst other things. "I wanted you to be a monster, because then the fear made sense. You almost ended my life and yet... When I looked at you in that hospital bed, you weren't what I expected. You are a killer, yes, but the people you kill... For the first time, you made me question if my way was the right way." Somewhat anxiously, she toyed with her fingers.

"Then I read your file and I think, I think it clicked." She chewed her lip. "I didn't understand because I didn't want to. I didn't want to look deeper than I had to because some part of me, some part of me knew." Her eyes felt wet, but she held in the tears, pushing through the constriction of her throat. "I've been treating you the way I've been treating myself, but when I saw your picture, the one from when you were a kid--I was treating you no better; that child that needed to be protected--" Her voice cracked a moment and she had to pause to compose herself. "I could see myself in those eyes and I just--" Again, she paused. There was so much that she wanted to say, so much that she had been mulling over that it was hard to piece together something that made sense and wasn't just a jumble of words falling, panicked from her mouth.

"I think, I think people what you to be a monster because it's easier for them." Tentatively, she reached out a hand, resting it over his. "I don't pity you," she promised. "I don't want you to feel so alone." She wasn't ready yet to say it back, but in a way, she was. Love did not always come in the shape of those four letters, sometimes it was different. Softer, more timid. Instead, it danced on the tips of her fingers, resting against the warmth of his bare skin. Heart pounding in anticipation for the reactions he was unable to hide.

[a-musing-mixologist]

as dark as the recent time seems to have been, pirates know to celebrate whenever their adventures are a success and celebration is eventually taken from sharing it with everyone on deck underneath it, candles in odd shapes still lightening the captain's bed chambers. the air is filled by the scent of boze and herbs, the sound of glass clicking gently as golden liquid are poured again. it all feel so light that law decides tonight might be a good time for a somewhat agreed on gift. thsi time, without any mock or tease.

as he watches the other two men being focused on their conversation, he moves to pull out the corset he made with so much focus and passion for a particular redhead some time ago, by now having added a few smaller details just to add to the pirate's style further. he wrapped it in a black satin fabric, walking overcasually to take place to kid's right again, leading to the youngest being centered between the two man. inked fingers bend dark spikes back before adjusting the collar of his tanktop, casually dropping it on kid's chest.

"a gift, i've made it myself but consider it from the both of us. we think you would look quite good in it. no tease this time, maybe just a somewhat selfish desire of ours to encourage you to try out something different when it comes to your wardrobe here and then." his voice is smooth like honey, drink brought back to his lips as he gives killer a short knowing gaze before relaxing back into soft pillows of the seats.

Taking another swig of ale, he laughs easily. They'd taken down a rather powerful group of Marines and sent their vessel to the bottom of the sea. It had actually been quite some time since they'd had a real naval battle, and the Victoria proved she was still a force to be reckoned with as they sailed further and further into the New World. "Huh?" He sets his mug down, quirking a brow at his boyfriend as Law plops something down on him.

It has a bit of weight to it, much heavier than Law's last... present. "Selfish desires, hmm?" Gold hues fix on the surgeon before flicking to his partner, who only grins. Both of them, is it? He's probably in trouble, as if the sticky-sweet tone of Law's voice wasn't proof enough. Pale fingers toy with the soft material, and he can feel two sets of eyes on him. Bastards. Licking his lips he unwraps the parcel, finding a well-crafted leather corset in his trademark colors, complete with curling flame motifs.

Killer leans against him, beard tickling against his neck. "We thought it'd look good on ya," he purrs, muscled arms slipping around him. "Law put quite a bit o' effort into it, as ya can see." Sapphire gaze meets gold as Killer smirks at the surgeon around his redhead. "I can help ya get into it, if ya want."

He doesn't actually need very much convincing for this particular accessory, in fact he fancies it, and it's only the way the two are staring at him that causes a faint heat to color his cheeks. He rises to his feet with a growl, extracting himself from Killer's arms. "Fine! I've been meaning to change things up a bit." He sheds the feathered coat, black vest, and waist wrap, allowing the blond to assist him with the new piece. It fits perfectly around his muscular torso, tight-fitting without restraining his movement while very much accenting his chest. Not something he has a problem with.

"Fits amazing. Thanks for your 'selfishness', dear heart." His gaze fixes on Law. Of course he'd have gotten his measurements somehow, he knows how much the surgeon enjoys studying him. "So what do you think?" He smirks, striking a pose. "This what you imagined?"

[lovemesomesurveys]

Where did the majority of your clothes come from? Boxlunch, Hot Topic, Kohl's.

Have you ever attempted to sculpt something from ice? Pfft, no.

What's so amazing about Shark Week? Nothing to me, it's not my thing.

Do you wear sunglasses in the winter? You should. I don't wear sunglasses-ever.

Have you ever had to wear an oxygen mask? Yeah, during my hospital stays. I had to wear one during my recent stay.

Do you have a dreamcatcher? No.

Is there someone you ALWAYS bump heads with? Yes.

What's your favorite thing you own that YOU made? I had some fun with painting on canvas a few months ago and I actually think it came out cute.

Have you ever starved yourself? Yes.

What do you spend all of your money on? Damn Temu takes all my money.

Do you like Robot Chicken? I didn't watch it regularly or really watch it at all, I just would catch parts of it here and there sometimes. Admittedly, some of what I saw was kinda funny.

What movie character would you like to be a part of your family? Uhhh.

What's the last thing you were an audience of? I think it was when I saw The Phantom of the Opera back in 2019.

Has anyone ever had to physically restrain you from doing something? Only when I was in the hospital and I tried grabbing at my breathing tube.

Do you raise your voice when you get angry? Somewhat. I'm not a loud person so even raising my voice still isn't that loud.

Do you like the pretzel M&Ms? Bleh, no.

Have you ever been accused of thinking you're too good for something? I don't think I'm too good for anything.

Do your scars tell sad or happy stories? I don't have any scar that I consider "good" or remind me of something happy.

Have you ever walked straight into a wall/door? Yeah, I'm an idiot.

Have you ever been embarrassed to have a crush on someone? No.

Is there anything you're trying to move on from? I live in the past and have a hard time of letting go of things.

Have you ever stolen someone's boyfriend? No.

Are you careful with your words? Yes.

Do you have a locket? What's the picture inside of it? I don't, but that's cute I want one now.

Describe the most interesting vehicle you've ever seen. *shrug*

Would you be afraid to take a public bus anywhere? I used to take the public bus when I was in college sometimes.

Have you ever given anything to someone who is homeless? Yeah.

What are you feeling, right now? Tired, bored, meh.

How do you react when you feel embarrassed about something? .I laugh awkwardly and try to play it off, but truly my face is burning hot and I'm dying on the inside kicking myself for whatever I've done. Oh, and I relive it forever.

Have you ever tried to 'fix' someone? You can't. I can't even fix myself and I need a lot of work.

What's in your copy and paste? This survey.

How many stuffed animals do you own, and what are they? I'm not gonna attempt to count, but it' a lot.

When's the last time you were carried by someone? .A few days ago.

Have you ever accidentally taken a shower with like your underwear left on, or something? No.

Can you twirl things well? Uhhh, I can twirl noodles?

Do you have bangs? No. I kinda want to get them.

Have you ever seen someone who wore a real eyepatch? I don't think so.

What started the last 'cat-fight' you were involved in? I haven't been involved in a cat fight.

Would you agree that it's extremely disrespectful to 'test' someone in a relationship? I don't like playing those games.

Do you go all out on dressing up for pep-rallies and the like? No, I didn't. I think I just wore my class shirt.

What's in your locker? .--

Are you in possession of any currency that isn't used in your country? Yes, it was a gift.

Did anyone witness your last kiss? .Probably.

Do you remember Hamtaro? Nope.

What about Peewee Hermin? Of course. .

Who is the last person you licked? Ew, I don't lick anyone.

Has anyone ever licked your face? Noooo.

Do you have any younger siblings? I have a younger brother.

Are you cool with them, or do they annoy you to no end? He and I are super close.

Do you know anyone with a kind of creepy smile? Uhhh, no.

Anyone with Bieber Fever? >> is that even still a thing <<< Right? They've been cured.

Have you tried Cupcake Pebbles cereal? No.

What's your favorite ride at an amusement park? Most of Disneyland's rides.

Last person you flipped off? That's not something I do.

Have you ever been on TV? Yes.

Are you currently distancing yourself from anyone? I already did that from so many people. :/

Trying to get close to anyone? No.

Anyone who's way over protective of you? Not way over, but a healthy amount.

Do you like dubstep? No.

Have you ever been to a rave? I have no interest in ever going to one.

Have you any friends that are twins? Nope.

[valiantvillain]

Ever since I was a kid I've always felt like every time I make something akin to friends or even just acquaintances I'm just playing this waiting game of "when will they get sick of me and slowly edge me out". I'd go to school in the morning and be told by kids I played with just yesterday that they didn't want to be friends with me anymore and I never knew why. Then I got older and it all just turned to ghosting and not-so-subtly edging me out of group stuff. It's especially bad in groups of people because I'm always painfully aware that I'm playing the waiting game and trying to restrain myself from being well, too much myself, while most times everyone else seems to interact seamlessly, warmly, genuinely.

I have maybe two friends in my entire life who I feel completely safe with because they quite literally have seen me at my very worst with panic attacks, medical mystery leading to cancer diagnosis, chemotherapy, the fucking works. And to my absolute surprise, they never thought I was too much to deal with, never ghosted me or gave me the superficial platitudes. They never left me, they made an effort to hang onto and love me.

Everyone else I've ever interacted with, however, who I talk to and wish that to fucking god that they do see me as the friend I want to be to them, I'm still playing the waiting game with all of them, bracing for the moment my ass fucks up in some big or small way I didn't anticipate and suddenly I'm the annoying one, the person you want to get rid of but dammit that wouldn't be nice so you keep them around because at least they're somewhat tolerable to be around, but you'll gladly brush them off if you can. In a nice way, of course.

I always fear that if I stop being funny, if I stop being charming for even a moment, if I fuck up once, misspeak, or get wrapped up in anxiety, get annoyed or angry the one time, the illusion of friendship I'd been building in my mind with someone will disappear and another waiting game will have reached its end. So I make myself hold back and try to hide the rougher, more jagged parts of myself. I tend not to message first, because if I let them come to me then they can't say I was clingy and needy, right? Then maybe it'll feel less my fault when it all goes to shit. And every time I get personal I feel like I'm risking an entire relationship, and sometimes I'm able to convince myself the waiting game is stupid and paranoid. That people don't need me to always be fun to like me.

And yet I keep fucking playing and I don't know how or if I'll ever be able to stop. Because throughout my life it feels like people have only ever been interested in these little palatable pieces of me and find the whole of me lacking. So I prepare myself for the seemingly inevitable moment it's over so it hurts a little less.

[vex-cti]

I lost my best friend in 2019, and I haven't been the same since. The reason it happened was all my own fault, I had become psychologically abusive and manipulative, it hit a point she had enough. It was necessary, I had to stop. For the first time in, maybe, my entire life, had I felt I had fallen so low I needed to reconsider who I was and what the fuck was I doing and why.

Turned out I had huge ego problems and temperament issues that I never knew how to handle and that was the main source. I tried apologizing to my friend, and for a while, she accepted it, and I was determined to change for the better and not fall into my previous pitfalls.

But perhaps I didn't deserve that second chance: she decided that no, the damage was already done, things just couldn't go back. It was time to end things for good.

You can't repair a broken glass.

A couple of years later I found out she had written about me: apparently she wiped out any positive memory she had and just wished me the worse.

Again, I cannot blame her.

I've struggled with friendships and relationships since: I had a different friend who also decided she had enough, after one of my outbursts of anger. I was not given another chance this time... to be fair, she was extremely dismissive of others' emotions, never even gave me a chance to talk things out. I was really trying this time, but I let the emotions carry me again.

So any time I make new relationships I'm always trying to restrain a lot, emotionally, maybe that's for good, but also makes me feel somewhat detached.

Or maybe I've matured, I don't know, it's been long since I've had an outburst or hurt someone, I guess that's good.

But part of me always fears losing someone again, and that if I let my emotions show themselves too much it will only ruin things. Even if they're not the negative, harmful kind.

I sometimes still see myself as the monster that hurt his own friend out of jealousy when she did not deserve at all on top of all of the shit she had to deal with.

I remember it began with a sense of protection, which became possesiveness... what a fool I was.

I've talked to a friend about it and she says the only way for me to move on is to stop shitting myself and forgive.

I don't know if I can forgive it, but I think it's been long enough to just not let go of it.

It's hard to let go of something you're guilty of and the consequence is permanent, it feels undeserved. But I have no other choice if I truly wish to be someone better.

She may wish me hell: but I don't.

I may not see you ever again, and that's for good, I know you don't want to.

I just want you to be happy, wherever you go, whenever you end up in. Find whatever fulls you and enjoy your life as you really deserved. I'm sorry I was not the friend you needed, I am really sorry for all the pain I caused, and I am aware apologies cannot mend that.

I'll never stop working on becoming someone better, I'll never forget the things I did and I'll never pretend I was innocent. I will carry that weight with me. I don't need to see you again. I do cherish our good memories together, and I hope you continue to make good memories with whoever you cross paths with on your life. I don't care if you wish me hell. I will never want that for you.

Four years already, feels like yesterday when I felt the stab. The realization of what I had done, the desperate attempt at fixing things, the anxiety, the crying.. and yet I know I've grown since then and I got a lot more to grow too.

It won't be the last time I remember this, hell I know this to be true. But if this is the last time I write about it directly, maybe it's appropiate to say: Goodbye.

[petitprincess1]

wouldn't mind seeing your swap moon and sun hcs

The post got barely any notes, but screw it. Like I said, imma have fun with it. I will say that keep in mind that I have not played the game myself, just seen bits of walk-throughs and going with what I've read in fanfics. Here we go:

Sun is still his cheerful and adorable self, but he uses that to his advantage. Who would think twice that this ray of sunshine would do any harm to kids? Plus, the fact that he has easy access to identifying and knowing the children's parents, he knows which kids would be the more trusting due to negligent parenting.

For those that get left behind longer, Sun will get them to play a few games with him to keep their trust. After he tires them out, he'll give them sundrops (actually moondrops, but wrapped in the sun-themed paper) and end up carrying them off to Vanessa. If they end up asking questions or don't drift off, Sun will tell them everything is okay. After all, lying is against the rules in the Daycare.

While he is energetic and playful, he isn't afraid to show when his "battery" has drained. Sometimes this'll lead him to be cruelly sarcastic with the children...but some don't care because they're kids.

Child: Sunny, can you help me do my homework? Sundrop: Oh, boy howdy, would I!! You know what? Why don't I just do it for you? It's not like I have several other sniveling kids to look after! Child: Sundrop, doing the kid's homework: *grumpy grumbles*

Sun is still an aggressive neat freak, but will have the children help out, if necessary. Either that or he'll hide it for Moon to clean up. (The latter is a little harder to do, since he's going against his programming.)

Sun takes out his passive-aggressive behavior on the security guards and/or assistants that help out. Sometimes even freaks them out about infinitely fragile they are compared to him.

He doesn't fight when it comes to switching places with Moon. If anything, he enjoys the relief, especially since he's been trying to fight against the virus.

Moondrop is much more soft-spoken than how he is in canon and very down-to-earth with the children. It's rare to ever see him not down at their level to help them feel more comfortable.

If a child is afraid of the dark, he can make the stars on his outfit glow like little nightlights. Sometimes he'll even "nap" along with them, showing that there is nothing to be afraid of.

He's still incredibly protective and will use the suspension cable to scare away intruders because of a "flying" robot. However, he will restrain them more than actually harm them. Moon has seen enough...harm.

While Moon is happy that the virus has calmed with Sun, he is a little worried to leave him unattended. So, he tends to play as Sun's conscious more than half of the time. Luckily, he mainly has to intervene when it comes to adults rather than children.

Also, even tho the kids went missing on Sun's watch, the faculty still assumed it was Moon's fault. Even when Sun placed a child on timeout in a closet for several hours, they still blamed it on Moon. So, the light generators are still in use, leaving Moon very little time to be out.

Moondrop also has slight resentment toward Sun, due to being accused.

The two have a somewhat strained relationship with each other since the incident. They try to work on it, however. Moon even gives Sun words of encouragement and praise when he fights against the virus.

Plus, Sun needs Moon to keep his mind off of aiding Vanessa. He tends to figuratively and literally shut down whenever he is reminded of it. Although, Sun will eventually shake it off and pretend that it hardly bothers him.

Moon is also disturbed by Sun at times.

Sun, speaking internally: ...You know...any moment we could just squish that security guard's head like a grape, right? Moon: Sun: I mean, it would be so easy. A quick scream and- pbbbt -gone. Moon: Sun: Don't you find that funn- Moon: Sunny, I will make us go to Parts and Services so fast, if you don't shut up. Sun, mumbling: Party-pooper...

[a-boca-do-inferno]

stranger (logan howlett x human!reader)

summary: You say something Logan doesn't like very much.

warnings: swearing, a little explicit at the end

words: 0.5k

Sometimes it's hard for you to tell if he's actually real. You can feel his skin on yours, his gentle touch. He smiles so wide when you make a silly joke, and the way he says your name, like you’re the most precious thing he's ever known... You almost feel like you’re going to wake up any moment, only to find out that Logan was just one of your very vivid dreams.

“Sometimes I don't think you're real, you know?”

“Hm?”, he only mutters in response, his eyes meeting yours.

You clear your throat, suddenly very self-conscious of your own words just now. “I said...”, your voice comes out somewhat impatient. You didn't even know you felt this way. “Sometimes I don't think you're real.”

“Why would you think that?”, he says gruffly.

You shrug, not really affected by his reaction. It's not exactly a surprise. “I don't know, I just do.”

There's a glimpse of the same impatience you feel in his eyes, but it's almost as if he's trying to hide it from you. That's one thing that does seem real about Logan: his over-protectiveness when it comes to you. “But you shouldn't, it's a stupid thought. I'm very much real, last time I checked”, he then turns back to whatever he was doing before, some repairment on his motorcycle.

“I didn't mean to upset you”, it's all you can say at this point, searching for his eyes again. He doesn't respond, so you continue. “It's just... When I woke up here, all I had was myself and some stranger willing to help me remember who I was and where I'm from, and now...”

“Now you're still here, with some stranger”, the words sound rough, too rough even for him, which makes you understand you said something stupid. Logan comes closer and you have to restrain the instinct of holding him while franticly apologizing. “You can leave anytime you want, sweetheart. I'm not exactly keeping you captive.”

“Logan...”

“What? Are you gonna say it's not what you meant, again? I've been getting a lot of those lately”, you sense his animosity like rain pouring over you, inevitable. You hurt him, you know you did.

Fuck. “Baby, I'm sorry”, it's all you can ever say in situations like this. You’re always the wrong one, always the one who apologizes for saying stupid shit. You'd think it would be the other way around with the Wolverine. You can't help but sigh deeply, feeling too stupid to even use the right words to describe how you're feeling to your boyfriend. You close the gap between you both and hug him, not discouraged when he doesn't hug you back. It's always like that with him. “You're not a stranger, not anymore anyway. How could I love a stranger so much?”

“Don't you try to buy me with I love you's, it ain't gonna work this time”, he mumbles grumpily, however you can see his lips curved slightly.

“What about a kiss?”, you offer, getting on your tiptoes to reach his mouth. You share a slow, gentle kiss, like the first one he gave you a few years ago, in a small cabin on the top of the hill. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I already told you to stop saying that, (y/n). It's been years.”

“But my gratitude doesn't change because of it.”

Logan gives you one of his amused looks, then holds you tighter around the waist. “What's for dinner?”

You laugh cheekily, whispering in his ear. “All the pussy you can eat, mister.”

[utilitycaster]

Calling Pathfinder's community "rancid" as a CR fan is a very strong take. I don't even like Pathfinder, but as someone who loves CR, I would said the fandom for it is worse. I had people trying to tear me a new one for liking the "wrong" ship, all while the most annoying thing PF fans have done to me is ask me to play that system

oh boy where do I start

Not only is "rancid vibes" a pretty restrained and measured take overall in my book, I am also like...extremely up front about being something of a hater with loud opinions. On a Hot Takes Scoville scale normalized for my particular curve, this is like, watered-down ketchup.

I am not denying the CR fandom has some pretty toxic people in relation to shipping, and I've had my own run-ins with them, but like...so do, unfortunately, a huge number of fandoms. Are you seriously implying that it's a bit much to say you've had overall negative experiences with one fandom if you are also in another fandom in which negative experiences are to be had? Because wow that's a bad take.

My tags on a non-maintagged post with 14 notes as of this moment are about my personal experiences and feelings. They do not factor in the experiences that you are having, because I do not know who you are.

But more seriously: I am in the CR fandom, and I engage with it willingly, and if someone attempts to tear me apart for liking the wrong ship I will like my ship harder and write extremely good meta and mediocre fic, if I do say so myself, about it...but if you do not have that sort of personality, it is very possible and easy to be a CR fan and withdraw from the fandom and just watch the show and talk about it only with people you know will be kind to you. Honestly, it's easier to do that than to be in fandom.

It is not possible to do this with Pathfinder, because my friends don't play Pathfinder. They play D&D. If I want to learn about Pathfinder, as a D&D player, or find people to play with, or get build ideas or tips as a new player? I need to at least be somewhat involved in some kind of community. So this is a pretty significant false equivalence: if you are pushing a particular TTRPG, you really need to be working on creating a welcoming community and making thoughtful recommendations, and Pathfinder fans (as well as the fans of a lot of indie TTRPGs) have, in my experience, been like "hey! switch to pathfinder/<insert indie ttrpg>, dipshit, because it is not D&D, which is a bad thing you are stupid for liking." In other words: the vibes are rancid.

Which brings me full circle back to the post with the tags you find rather strong: People who harass over ships suck, true, but they are as a rule not trying to win people over to their ship, otherwise they'd actually write about why their ship is good. They are insecure people who are trying to make others feel bad so they will leave or at least shut up. It's the fandom equivalent of skunk spray.

Pathfinder (and many other ttrpg) fans are acting no differently from them, except in theory, they are trying to win people over, which means not only do they have terrible vibes, they are also not even trying to have terrible vibes.

[luimagines]

You give them a kiss!

Masterlist

Despite the earlier confusion, I’ve got it done! Here you go Anon!

Since there wasn’t any specification, it’s set platonically (but maybe hidden feels) so I hope that’s ok.

Content under the cut!

Wind

You hear Wind call your name. It’s loud and joyful and inexplicably full of excitement.

It immediately light your heart and you turn to see where the voice came from. Wind is starting to run in your direction something clenched in his hand. You can see it sway from his grip but he’s moving too fast for you to get a good view of what it is.

He stops in front of you, hiding what he had behind his back with a a wide grin his face. “I’ve got something for you!~”

You smile and drop what you’re doing, giving him your full attention. “What is it Pirate?”

“Close your eyes.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Please!”

You oblige.

There’s a moment of silence before you feel something being placed on your head. It’s light but it feels oddly familiar and you open your eyes.

Whatever was in Wind’s hands before is gone and he’s staring at you with a pleased look on his face.

You slowly raise your hands to touch what it is and feel yourself smile.

It’s a flower crown.

“I made it myself!” Wind declares proudly. “Hyrule showed me how to make them. It’s not exactly the first one I made... That one didn’t come out as good, I think. But I like this one and thought it would look great on you!”

Your smile widens to a grin and you pull Wind into a hug. Your heart swells in adoration for this boy and you spin him around somewhat. “I love it! Thank you!”

You pull away slightly and give him a kiss on the forehead as thanks. “You’re very sweet.”

There’s a slight blush on his face as he pulls away from you, but his smile never falters. “Well, I’m glad you like it.”

Twilight

"Hey Twilight!" You skip to his side and place your hands on your hips. "How are you on this beautiful day?"

"I'm doing mighty fine, thank you." Twilight tosses a grin over his shoulder before he goes back to checking through Epona's supplies.

"What-cha doing?"

"Just checking through an old bag of mine. I'm looking for a new shirt."

This piques your interest. "Why?"

"My current one is starting to smell to kingdom come so while it needs to be washed, I need to find my other one."

"Well... I mean it's not that....Yeah..... Wild and I didn't want to say anything, but at least you're aware."

"Ok. Thanks." Twi deadpans. "I can feel your support from miles away. I am so glad that I'm traveling with you lot."

"We like having you around too!" You grin and punch his shoulder lightly. "Enough so that it's easy to tolerate the dog smell."

"You know what-" Twilight takes a swing in your direction but you easily dodge it. He's quick to follow you and take another swing.

You catch it and bring his fist towards your mouth to place a quick kiss on his knuckles.

"Maybe a shower will help too." You grin.

Twilight groans and takes his hand back. "I'll take that into consideration."

He begin to absentmindedly rub his thumb over where you kiss him even as he turns away from you and back to Epona.

"Glad I could help."

"Get out!"

You leave laughing.

Warrior

"Excuse me, but I need your assistance." Warrior walks up to and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. "It'll only take a moment."

"Sure thing Capitan." You grin and drop your little project into your pocket. "What do you need?"

"I heard that you have a specific set of skills that I believe would help me greatly in a personal endeavor of mine."

"Drop the fancy talk." You deadpan. "It only makes you look suspicious."

"I want you to teach me about flowers." He admits in a rush.

"...Why?"

"...Seeecret." Warrior hisses through his teeth, unwilling to tell you why. "You're good at knowing what plants do what and how they help people. You're the best person to go to."

"It comes with the territory of herbalism." You grin. "But it's not all about flowers. I'd have to know what you're going to do with the plants if you want me to help you."

Warrior pauses and he takes a while to think about your reply. There's a moment where you can see that's he's battling himself about your conditions. Somewhere among the lines he comes a consensus and sighs. "...But it was supposed to be for you."

There's a blush on his face and he begins to scratch the back of his neck. He's not meeting your eyes.

His reveal surprises you and you smile at the soft confession. You stare at him for a little moment longer you snort. "Ok fine. I'll let you keep your secrets. I've been teaching Hyrule about being an herbalist and he's learning at an incredibly fast rate. He's your second best bet at this point."

"The Traveler?" Warrior blinks. "When did you start doing that?"

"A while ago." You shrug and skip in his direction until you're toe to toe.

"Whatever your surprise is I'm sure I'll like it." You say and go up onto your tip toes to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "You're a sweetheart. thank you in advance. I'll be waiting!"

You hear Warrior audibly gulp as you leave. "Ok! I'll- I'll get working on it!"

Wild

"Wild! I'm bored!" You cry out and flop onto the ground.

You were placed on Wild babysitting duty, curtesy of Twilight, while the others went to go scope out the nearest village for both supplies and information. But because of Wild stepping out of line and going against orders, he was benched until further notice.

"We're both bored." Wild groans and flops on top of your stomach.

You grunt with the unexpected pressure and force from the hit and drop your arm onto his face. "What can we do!?"

"I don't know!"

"But you always have something on your mind."

"That doesn't mean I can just pop out an idea whenever I want!" He shouts back. "My creative process is an enigma. Not even I can control it or will it into action."

You sigh. "So now what?"

A moment of silence.

"Wanna make out?"

"What?" You sit up, pushing Wild off of you in the process.

"Kidding! Kidding!" Wild laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. "I saw an opportunity and I took it."

"Wild." You deadpan, not elaborating on anything else. You do not continue your sentence.

Wild descends into snorts and giggles at your unamused face and he's completely lost himself in his own head.

In the distance you can hear Legend and Warrior arguing with each other and know that you're time alone with the wild child is up. A wicked streak kicks up inside you and you smirk to yourself.

Before the others can come close enough to see the both of you, you maneuver upwards and into Wild's personal space and place a kiss smackdab on his cheek- stilling him entirely.

"Next time-" You say as you stand. "-Tell me what you want to do before the others can come and interrupt."

You send him a quick wink and leave him to his thoughts. You're quick to greet the others and act as if nothing had happened at all.

Wild is still stunned and red in the face where you left him even as the others come close to the camp.

Twilight goes to question what's wrong with him but from what you can hear, Wild doesn't kiss and tell.

Time

Time calls your name with audible hesitation.

It's unusual to say the least and it's enough for you to drop every you're doing and give him all of your attention. "What's up? Is something wrong?"

Time doesn't say anything nor does he make eye contact, and it's even more concern as the moment passes.

"Are you ok?" You stand and make your way toward him.

Time clears his throat for a hot second and takes a steadying breath to meet your eyes. "Everything is fine, it's just, I wanted to ask for your opinion."

You're confused. "That's it? Time, you freaked me out for a second. Ask away."

"Um..." Time stalls intelligently. "Wind pointed out there's a shore line nearby. I was thinking the boys could use a day off....play in the water or the sand, just a break to-"

"YES! Yes! Yes!" You scream and jump up in excitement. "Really? Are we that close? We can have a beach day? Are you serious? Can we go?"

You can feel yourself beam and if he were to say that everyone was getting ice cream and can sleep in tomorrow then you were sure you'd be vibrating.

He looks at you with mild surprise but a soft smile crosses over his face.

"Link, that's a great idea!" You jump on him, hug him, wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. "This is great! When? Today? Tomorrow?"

You drop and jump a bit on your toes still.

He grins. "I wanted to see if we could camp there tonight, and spend the whole day tomorrow just relaxing."

"I can do that! We can do that! This is great! It'll be so much fun! I hope there's waves. I've wanted to teach Wild how to surf and maybe we can get Twilight to join. This is great!" You're too excited to think about where to go but Time points in a direction behind with a wink.

"How about you go help pack up the camp? I'll go collect the boys!"

"Absolutely! You absolute champion!" You run off to go meet up with some of the others and do your given task.

Time chuckles a bit and places his fingertips against where your lips were. It wasn't the reaction he was expecting, but he's not complaining.

Legend

"Excuse me Mr. Hero, what do you think you're doing?" You walk up behind Legend and put your hands on your hips.

You had caught him going through your bag. As obvious as it was that he was trying to be stealthy, he wasn't fast enough to get out before you came back.

Legend freezes on the spot and doesn't turn around to look at you.

"Why are you going through my stuff?" You raises an eyebrow and try to not yell. It's a barely restrained rage that flows through your blood as someone goes through your things without your permission. But it's Legend, you trust him and you don't want to take things out of proportion or escalate things higher than they should.

"I... Um..." Legend gulps and stands up, leaving your bag alone. He kicks the flap over, hiding the insides of it from other prying eyes.

You keep your eyebrow raised and watch as he squirms uncomfortably under your stare.

"I was trying to see if you needed anything." He somehow manages to look up and look you in the eye.

"Like?"

"Supplies."

"Like?" You press.

"Just stuff." Legend snaps and walks away. "We got back from shopping. I just wanted to know if you needed anything."

"And you didn't think to just ask?"

"It's whatever!" He storms away a little quicker than you think he would normally. He's hiding something.

You quickly make your way to your bag and shuffle through it.

You're not missing anything.

Nothing of yours is gone but there's a new thing you notice.

You see three new healing potions that were decidedly not there before along with four packs of trail mix and food stuffs that look nothing like what you usually pack for yourself.

Understanding cascades over you like a wave and you take a deep breath to calm the last of your budding anger.

You seal your bag and leave it there, quickly following after Legend before he can get too far.

You power walk next to him and stop him with a hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

"I didn't do anything!" Legend pulls himself away from you.

"Doubt it." You lean in and place a quick kiss on his temple before he can get away from you entirely. "Thank you. I saw what you did."

"And what did I do?" He wipes it off aggressively.

"Something very kind."

Legend stills once more and keeps rubbing off your kiss. "...It's nothing."

You snort and begin to walk away from him. "Regardless, thank you."

"...You're welcome."

Hyrule

“Would you believe me if I said that I’ve never seen someone be able to do this before?” You ask Hyrule one day out of the blue.

“Do what exactly?” He pauses the spell, your wound stays only marginally healed because of it.

“Do magic.” You shrug. “It’s... not really a thing where I’m from. We have magician but they’re all for show and it’s mostly illusions. You know, smoke and mirrors and the like. If you can figure out how they do it when it’s pretty simple.”

“That sounds... depressing.” Hyrule twists his face and goes back to healing you. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“It’s not so bad. It’s mostly for fun.” You try to sit up now that the pain isn’t as severe. Hyrule doesn’t let you. “Can’t lose what you never had.”

“But it’s all I’ve ever had.” Hyrule’s eyebrows furrow and you can see the gears turning in his head. 

You let him think in the time it takes for you to get fully healed. Hyrule has always needed a little space to get his thoughts together before he says something. 

You’re fully healed in seconds and Hyrule leans away from you. You get to finally sit up fully and you take his hand in yours. He lets you take it and lets you study his hand with gentle fascination. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you and you pull his hand even closer to you. Before Hyrule can even think of pulling away you place a kiss against his knuckles.

“It’s a gift.” You say. “Don’t take it for granted.”

Hyrule smiles slightly and grips your hand. “Thanks. I think you might have a concussion though.”

“It’s nothing you can prove.” You answer with a loopy smile.

Hyrule snorts and stretches his hand by your head.

“Oh, yeah.” He grins. “That explains it.”

Four

Four calls your name with slight hesitation and you instantly give your attention to him out of concern. 

When you see him, he’s hiding something behind his back, slightly hunched back and has a blush on his face. He doesn’t appear to be injured or in any sort of pain so it can’t so bad.

“Four?” You stand up fully and begin to walk in his direction. “Everything ok? Is something wrong?”

Four shoots up and begins to stammer slightly. “No, I- You see- It’s nothing! Everything’s fine.”

“Four.”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- it’s nothing.” Four laughs unconvincingly and scratches the back of his neck. “Here. I made this for you.”

Four holds out a little package covered in cloth with both of his hands and refuses to make eye contact with you.

Intrigued, you close the distance between you two and reach out to take it. The cloth seems high quality and you wonder how much it must have cost to get even a fraction of the square he’s just given you. The package itself is hefty or at least heavier than you thought it would be. 

Four is still refusing to make eye contact but he stays with the clear intent of watching for your reaction. 

You unfold the cloth over the weight and hold it from under. Repeating a similar action for the other side, you see underneath it two beautifully crafted twin daggers. The hilt is what catches your attention the most. It has red and black accents, each of the colors swirl around each other and mimic the wings of a butterfly when placed side by side. There was a hook at the end of each dagger, expertly hidden and you wouldn’t have found it if it hadn’t nagged your sleeve as you passed your fingers over the blade.

You looked with intrigue and gently picked up the blades out of the cloth. You tossed the cloth onto your shoulder and hooked the blades together out of curiosity. 

They fit together perfectly to create an elongated weapon.

“You made this?” Your breath leaves you in a whisper as you admire the craftmanship. “How? When?”

“It’s a secret.” Four grins softly, not bothering to hide his self satisfied smirk..

“And it’s for me?” You grip it tighter and flip it through your fingers, spinning it slowly. 

“Yup.”

You don’t reply, too enraptured in taking it all in. Even as you spin it, it’s astonishingly light for both of them being combined than you feel it should be. 

It must have taken a while to make this.

“Do you like it?” Four returns to be being bashful and kicks the dirt softly.

Your head snaps in his direction and you fling your arms around him. “I love it!”

Four takes a step back from the collision and is too shocked to hug you back.

“Thank you!” You shout and give him the biggest kiss you think you get away with on his cheek.

“I’m totally showing these off!” You bounce off of him. “Wild’s going to be so jealous! Thank you Four!”

You run away to find something to use them against as Four stays behind.

A hand slowly reaches up and touches the cheek where you kissed him. “You’re welcome.”

Sky

“SKY!” You shout and take off in a running sprint. You’re by his side in seconds and you’re quick to wrap your arms around him. He wraps his arms around you as well and turns your momentum in a spin.

“Well hello there!” He calls back in return, a grin on his face. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Would it just be enough to say that I just missed you?” You grin back and get off of his back, keeping your arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Perhaps, if I didn't know you as well I do." Sky replies with a subtle smirk.

"Rude."

"Am I wrong?" Sky raises a teasing eyebrow.

"That's what you think. I am a ball of mystery." You let him go and step away. "I am in no way predictable. There's no way you can know all my moves."

"I bet that I could."

"I doubt it."

"Try me."

"Alright." You tilt your head up and place a kiss squarely on his cheek.

It stuns him in place and you grin at the result.

"Bet you didn't see that coming."

"Admittedly-" Sky gulps and blushes all the way to his neck. "-I did not."

[meirimerens]

I hear ur gartemy thoughts and I wanna ask: thoughts on daniil gay subtext next? I haven't even come close to finishing p1 yet (taking it literally one day at a time) so I still have little to no context other than the quotes I've heard around Twitter

tungl crashed and i had to rewrite this so i'll be quick

i'm not the best person to ask for "subtext" because well. i see him as gay. i've never seen him as anything other than gay (unlike artemy where i've gone back and forth between seeing him as gay and bi before settling on the fact that it makes more sense to me for him to be gay). asking me for gay subtext is like trying to ask a geologist for a rock. like Yeah brother i'll find you one.

IF i needed to be convinced (which i don't) and without bad faith i'd say it'd go

1. his dandyism and everyone's (both P1 and P2) obsession with his perceived elegance. while dandyism was historically not a gay thing and more of a class thing (dressing well to give you social status that you may had not have), it has become to modern eyes with the rediscovered works of Leyendecker, for example. the modern tumblr/twitter user sees dandyism through gay male art even tho dandyism itself may not have been. while it is... really easy to go the homophobic stereotype route vibe of He dresses well -> Must be gay, i personally think his dandyism comes from 1. he's a cityguy 2. he's an academic 3. he does the class dandy thing of trying to present himself as good and well put-together to climb ranks (which makes sense with his current situation) 4. you know what maybe he does dress like that for gay reasons, and i say that with the utmost amounts of love and the knowledge that i'm somewhat of a lezzie stereotype myself (we live it well)

2. P1 haruspex route the first thing he tells you when you meet him is a hair's width away from being a declaration of love, you'll see when you get there

3. not canon anything but if you know about the connotations of Bachelor

yeah

4. at first i thought it was just me but one of my closest friend told me the same, but the times women attempt to flirt with him, he is stiff, stunted, unnatural and barely even reciprocate (fun fact that's one of the piece of data i have for my MGS Gay Snake Theory. lol! bunch of snakes!)

there's probably other things but as i said i already see him as a homosexual so i don't need to look for subtext. i just believe it in my heart.

edit to add: ALSOOOO universities where historically very male-dominated (or women where banned from studying period), and the ongoing joke was that with no girls present, the boys kept pursuing each other.

+ he speaks latin, and you know what that means

edit to add 2 because i need to re-read but also:

2.a.: his letters to Burakh in the Haruspex route reek of "🥺🥺🥺" and i'll leave at that. he also has tons of sentences that are like... genuinely loving and caring, in a very low-key and restrained way. he's like a tsundere (you are allowed to beat my ass for this one, but you will not succeed)

edit to add 3:

🤨

[namisthecoolest]

Ships and the songs I associate them with and why-

(P.s this is strictly my opinion but feel free to share yours in the comments)

Feysand (A Court of Thorns and Roses)

Rewrite the stars

-James Arthur and Anne-Marie

"You know I want you

It's not a secret I try to hide"

-this is definitely Rhys to Feyre

"How do we rewrite the stars?

Say you were made to be mine?

Nothing can keep us apart

'Cause you are the one I was meant to find"

-see what I'm getting at?

Prince Witch (Kingdom of the Wicked)

Dress

-Taylor Swift

"Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo"

-their betrothal tattoo👀

"All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you"

-it is extensively described in the books that both of them had to physically restraining themselves to not touch one another

"Only bought this dress so you could take it off"

-Emilia wears and designs her wardrobe to get a reaction out of Wrath

PoppyCas (From Blood and Ash)

Teeth

-5 Seconds of Summer

"Don't know if you love me or you want me dead"

-Casteel trying to figure out if Poppy wants to stab him or fuck him

"Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth"

-if I go into Poppy and Cas's sex life it'll take me days to explain it but this rounds it up..... somewhat

Grace and Hudson (Crave)

Till Forever Falls Apart

-Ashe and FINNEAS

"If the tide takes California

I'm so glad I got to hold ya

And if the sky falls from heaven above

Oh, I know I had the best time falling into love"

-tell me this doesn't give you major grace and hudson vibes

"We've been living on a fault line

And for a while, you were all mine

I've spent a lifetime giving you my heart

I swear that I'll be yours forever

'Til forever falls apart"

-the fact that they've just found each other and now the whole world's falling apart🥺

"So this is it, that's how it ends

I guess there's nothing more romantic than dying with your friends

And I'm not sorry for myself

I wouldn't wanna spend a minute loving anybody else"

-their uncertainty if they are gonna win the war or not in the end of Covet and bonus chapter from Court

Hades and Persephone (A Touch of Darkness)

Never Tear Us Apart

-Bishop Briggs

"I was standing, you were there

Two worlds collide

And they could never, ever tear us apart"

-that primal feeling inside them to destroy anyone and anything for each other

"Don't ask me what you know is true

Don't have to tell you, oh, I love your precious heart"

-she stole the heart of the king of the Underworld

If you want me to do more of these let me know

[kathrinhonesta]

I have a habit where I tend to stay in my comfort zone a lot—both in life, and eventually affected my work as an artist too. I always stick to what works, and avoid risk under the excuse of chasing deadlines for clients (therefore no rooms for mistakes).

My comfort zone as an artist right now is my "style". I am protecting it too much. I restrained myself when I was creating works because I was scared of failure if I try to explore out of it. I can feel how my creative juices in me drying out slowly because there's no new creative insight of myself to feed it with. When I started years back, this wasn't a problem because I was still in the phase of "figuring out". But now the problem is when I think I've "figured it out", while maybe there will never be a finish line to one's creativity.

So recently, I've been trying to push my ego down. Yes, I believe ego might be the one that has always bound me to my comfort zone. "My work is bigger than myself" is the mantra I now try to keep. Not the "what will people think of my work", or "what if people don't recognize my work anymore" mantras. I don't have to show perfect result everytime. Progress is alright. I have to loosen myself and just experiment, play and create 💪

So here I am in this illustration, using textures & brushes that I've never used before. It might look a little different than my other works but it's okay. I might not be 100% liking the result but at least I step out of my comfort zone & it's a start ✨

Ok I'm ending this rant with my fav quote of Pablo Picasso that I thought is somewhat related to this topic; "It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child".

Ok that's enough for my midnight rant. Rest well, and good night friends! ✨✨

[albakatrinaalexis]

Bittersweet Tea Parties: A Memoir

        There exist times where I wake from my slumber, disoriented, frazzled with a warm fuzzy swell in my chest. Moments like these takes me back to when I was younger, times I consider more carefree compared to the present. Where things seemed less complicated and I have fewer issues to heavily think about. When living was in no way considered as a hassle.

           At a young age most of us aren’t exposed to issues occurring within our families or society or even the government. Parents, often, take pride of their child’s innocence and tries to preserve it as much as possible. Although there still exist a number of younglings that are unfortunately exposed to sorts of things at an early stage of their lives, forcing them to mature rather quickly to be able to cope with such matters. Hindering them from appreciating their gift of youth.

           As a child I developed a love for the cliché playing with little tea sets and ceramics I got to collect, my mother was fortunately supportive of this hobby which I was thankful for. The soft clinks of miniature teacups and pots filled with nothing but plain tap water, I remember the sound of liquid being poured as my impressionable mind made effort to make myself believe that this stale water was indeed jasmine tea. Giggles would fill the room as I set the pot down with liquid dribbling from its spout. Allowing myself to loosen up and drift to places I've never been before creating whole new scenarios and stories. It was pleasant, to say the least.

           I’d play this by myself, even at a young age being alone wasn’t a new concept for me, it was not really considered lonely back then and I was contented with that set-up, often I find myself missing those days. Being able to shut my eyes and fall into utter bliss with being at peace. It never fails to amuse me how I managed to survive as a single player half into the game of life, choosing to be by myself and being fine with that but, of course, society disapproved and sneaked its way in every nook and cranny of my being, hand-in-hand with life as they push me off the gutter and down on the floor. Standards were forced down my throat along with a series of false truths and rights and wrongs set by society itself.

           I was overwhelmed, exhausted even.

           Suddenly playing with tea sets with myself aren’t fun anymore. Having the choice of being alone, to stand independently, is now considered weird. Not the good kind of weird, although synonymous with being unique, no, being different is bad and not holistically accepted by most people. And as a kid I struggled with this internal battle. A part of me wanted to go back to being able to enjoy the comfort of me having no other company that being alone does not equal to lonesomeness or the inability to make friends, none of these were negatives until toxic society deemed it so.

           Alas, I failed. The side glances, the harsh words spat directly at me, the shoves and pushes, the glares and bothered looks people gave got into me. For the reasons of choosing to be alone and being critical with who I choose to hang out with. I gave in, and forced myself to squeeze in groups I never really vibed with for the sake of not being considered weird, alone. Oh how I wish I am as knowledgeable as I am today compared to before, being able to not take offense when called out for being different taking it as a compliment rather an insult. But, oh boy, was I livid when called weird when I was younger. Treating the word somewhat like a curse, it shook my whole being making me want to explode.

           I was not able to enjoy days with myself alone anymore, and being an only child made it a little more challenging, worst even. No longer was I able to bask in the comfort of silence for silence has become deafening. Morphing into the monster under my bed, the boogeyman, a constant ringing in my ear a redundant reminder that my teacups and pots no longer misses me.

           Though I miss them.

           If it wasn’t for the saddening thoughts bouncing along the confines of my skull, I would have gladly returned to who I was before. But stubbornness clawed its way up to my head for integration and for a moment I was stuck in a loop of constant self-doubt to the point of unhappiness.

           “Would you die without having these people around you?” The voice of my mom echoed within the four walls I built, waking me. Realization slapped me right across the face lacking restraint. Suddenly the dam behind the windows to my soul broke and the river was freed, trailing down my face and tainting my cheeks with everything I have held back during these times. I have wasted a fraction of my lifetime trying to please people who couldn’t care less about my wellbeing, and that was one of my biggest regrets, up until today.

           I slept for a long period of time that night, the lightness of my shoulders was an obvious comfort for me after what I have been through. No longer was I discomfited of my habits and the things I like, I stopped restraining myself from the stuff I wanted to do and I was ecstatic with my new found glow. With that being said, I came running back to my hidden stash of teacups, saucers and pot and got lost in my sweet haven, a little worn and dusty but it still felt like the same happy place I have grown to love.

           From that I had gravitated to engaging with the actual habit of tea drinking, as a result of my constant search for peace, I guess. Something about holding a warm cup of tea between my palms sets my mind at peace. The soft plop of teabags sinking to the bottom of the cup to steep and the faint aroma of tealeaves brings me back home, I sigh with every gulp as warmth trails down my chest sitting down my stomach. As I savor my drink ‘til the last drop I remind myself that I am safe and that my life should also be savored ‘til my last breath.

[nowplayingblog-main]

Guns Don’t Kill People

read on AO3

Written for @irondadbingo

Tony woke up to a bright light in his eyes, surrounded by darkness. He had heard about the light at the end of the tunnel just before you died, but he somehow felt that if he was dead, or even dying, that he shouldn't be in this much pain. Even if the last thing he remembered was his own missile blowing up in his face.

He turned his head, and the room he was in came into focus. Or maybe “room” was too kind of a term. The walls were rough, uneven, wet rock, and the furniture that made up the area was thrown together, rickety and dirty. In the center of the room was a steel beam that Tony hoped to God wasn't holding up the place. At the other end of the room there was a sketchy looking bunk bed, with a boy - maybe in his then years - laying lopsidedly on the top bunk, staring lazily at the ceiling, as though he we're on drugs.

Turning his attention away from the room, Tony felt around his face, feeling a tube coming out from his right nostril. In a moment that was probably not his best moment of judgment, Tony pulled on the tube, which caused a burning sensation in his nose, and triggered his gag reflex as the tube brushed past the back of his throat. He stopped, but that felt even worse. Tony continued to pull out what he now realized was a feeding tube until it was completely out - gagging the entire time.

He threw the offensive tube across the room, and sat up in his cot, trying to move away to walk around the room, get a better sense of his surroundings, but he was stopped by a tugging sensation in his chest, which sparked extreme, crippling pain that Tony hadn't been fully aware of. Tony looked down at the stained bandages underneath his shirt. From underneath those bandages there were cables that led to a car battery at the side of the cot he was once lying on. He wrapped his hand around the cords, ready to tug.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” The boy on the bunk said tiredly, as though he were half asleep. Tony looked up and saw that the boy was staring at him, his pupils dilated. He looked as though he wasn't truly there.

He turned his attention back to his bandaged chest. The pain underneath them had become unbearable. He tore away the bandages to reveal a monstrosity - a hunk of metal in his chest, surrounded by red, irritated skin.

Tony fainted.

The next time Tony woke up, the kid was cooking something over a fire, which was shabbily built near the center of the room. The kid seemed less delirious than he had been earlier, but there were moments when his hands paused, or he would catch himself leaning too far to one side.

He sat up, and the tugging at his chest reminded of the presence of the metallic monstrosity in his chest.

Tony looked up at the kid. “What did you do to me?”

The kid met his eyes, and Tony could see his pupils were still slightly smaller than normal, especially for someone sitting in a dark, cave like room.

“I didn't do anything to you,” he had an American accent, which surprised Tony, and his words were slurred. “I'm not a doctor. But I did give them the idea. It's an electromagnet. You were hit with a lot of shrapnel, and it was going to pierce your heart. They got out as much as they could, and whatever was left in there is being stopped by that magnet.”

“I'm sorry, are you high right now?” Tony asked brashly.

The kid went cross-eyed for a moment, and leaned a little too far to the left, catching himself before he could actually fall over. He looked sheepishly back up at Tony. “It's not my choice.”

Before Tony could ask what he meant by that, there was a pounding at the door, strains of Arabic filtering through.

The kid stumbled to his feet, placing his hands behind his head, “Get up.”

Tony remained seated, eyes trained on the door.

“What are you, crazy? Get up! Do as I do!”

Tony stood up, placing his hands behind his head, mimicking the boy, just as the armed terrorists barged through the door.

There were seven or eight men, each armed with what Tony recognized as Stark Industries issued weapons. Then, another man walked through. Clearly the leader.

He walked up to the kid first, speaking in Arabic. Tony couldn't understand a word he was saying, but he spoke with a praising tone of voice, but in a somewhat condescending tone.

After a while, the man turned to Tony, continuing to speak in Arabic.

“He says welcome, Tony Stark, the greatest mass murderer in the history of America.” The kid translated, which stunned Tony for a moment. “He is honored.”

The terrorist leader cut him off continuing to speak in his foreign tongue.

“He says he wants you to build him a missile - the Jericho missile, which you were demonstrating earlier.”

The man pulled out a black and white printed picture of the Jericho.

“That one,” the kid supplied, somewhat needlessly.

Tony looked up at the man, eyeing the armed men behind him.

“I refuse”

The torture that followed would haunt Tony for the rest of his life.

The next day, Tony was being led outside. It was blindingly bright, but when his eyes focused, he saw several of his weapons, as well as assorted parts and pieces from what Tony guessed were cars and explosives.

The kid was there. He was being restrained my a much larger man, his arms pinned behind his back. He had guns trained at his head at all times. The poor kid seemed to be taking this all in stride, as though he was used to it.

The leader was speaking again, and Tony looked to the kid for a translation, feeling bad about the position they were in.

“He says, what do you think?”

Tony grimaced. “I think he has a lot of my weapons.”

The leader spoke again. The kid translated. “As you can see, they have everything you need to build the Jericho. You will write a list of materials, and get to work right away. When you're done they will set you free.”

Tony glanced around at the armed men around him. Some of them stood on top of the rocky peaks. One of them stood out among the rest, and Tony suspected he was the leader of all of them, even the guy he was talking to right now.

He held his hand out and shook it with his captor.

“No he won't.” Tony said, mostly to the kid.

“No. He won't.” The kid agreed.

That night, Tony was laying on the bottom of the rickety bunk bed. He thanked his lucky stars that the kid appeared to weigh no more than a feather - any heavier may have caused the whole thing to capsize.

The kid was more alert now than Tony had ever seen him. He was sitting upright on the bunk. And Tony could tell by his positioning that he was staring at the door.

“You got a name, kid?”

“Peter,” he said softly, his voice wavering, but it wasn't slurred.

Tony hummed in acknowledgement. “I'd introduce myself, but -”

“I know who you are.”

Tony nodded silently.

“It's scary isn't it?” Peter said. “How many weapons they have. How many parts.”

“Yeah,” Tony said softly, “they weren't supposed to be the ones who had them.”

“Have you ever heard the saying, 'guns don't kill people, people do’?”

“Yeah, what's your point, kid?”

“You make the guns,” Peter explained, “and once they're out there, you can give them to the people you want to have them, you can guard them, but somehow, some way, they're going to end up in the hands of the people you don't want to have them. And the guns don't know any better. They won't just stop working. They just do as they're told.” He took a breath.

“I don't quite understand what you're trying to tell me,” Tony said passively.

“That's okay. Maybe someday you will.”

There was pounding at the door.

“What's going on?” Tony demanded. Standing up and putting his hands behind his head. “They said they wouldn't come until tomorrow.”

“They're not coming for you,” the kid assured him, climbing off the top bunk.

The armed men crowded into the room, and grabbed Peter by his arms, pinning them behind his back, tying them too tightly with thick, dirty rope. Those who weren't busy tying the poor kid up had their guns aimed at his head.

“Woah, woah!” Tony exclaimed, “What's your deal, what are you doing to him?!”

A few of the gunman swiveled toward him when he spoke, turning their guns on him

“It's fine Mr. Stark,” Peter assured him. “They have you here to build weapons. I'm here for the same reason.”

Tony had no idea what that meant, but just as soon as the had entered, the terrorists left the cave, locking the door behind them. Tony was alone.

Tony had managed at get a couple of hours of sleep between his tossing and turning, the pain in his chest, and his worry about a teen-aged stranger keeping him awake.

When the sun had finally started to shine through the small, thin window near the ceiling, the door finally opened again. Tony stood up, placing his hands behind his head like the kid taught him, and once again armed men came into their room, Peter hanging limply from where they held him by his arms. They dumped him onto the ground, and promptly left.

The poor kid was covered with his own blood, which oozed sluggishly from small cuts littering his body. The back of his right hand was bruised, and displayed a puncture wound above his vein. His arms were covered in puncture wounds, really.

His breathing was ragged, and Tony knew that being thrown into his stomach wasn't doing him any favors. He slowly moved toward the kid, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you with me, Peter?” He asked gently.

The kid groaned, the sound trailing off into a whimper.

“I'm gonna move you to the bed, okay? It's probably not a good idea for you to stay on the floor like this.

“M'fine,” Peter insisted, his words slurred so severely it took Tony a money to realize he was speaking.

“No, you really aren't.”

“M'Okay...really...I've...done this....'fore” the kid turned his head weakly to one side, his eyelids only half open.

“C'mon kid,” Tony insisted, hoisting him from underneath his armpits. “Up you go.”

Peter whimpered and whined as Tony staggered over to the bed. It wasn't hard to carry him, the kid was pretty light, but Tony had an awkward hold on him due to his own gaping injury in his chest, and he had to stop every so often to go back and shift his car battery so that he wouldn't get disconnected.

Once the kid was on the bed, Tony could tell he was pretty out of it, not to mention exhausted.

“Why are they doing this to you, kid?” Tony tried to ask, “What do they want from you.”

Peter's reply was too slurred for Tony to discern. He lifted one of the kids eyelids and saw that his pupils were blown.

“They're keeping you on pretty heavy drugs, aren't they?” Tony removed his hand from the boys face, resolving to wait to ask him in the morning.

“From what I can tell they're trying to create some kind of super soldier serum,” Peter told him the next time Tony asked. He was sitting up in the bunk, since Tony wanted him to rest, even though Peter insisted this wasn't the first time this had happened. “They have some kind of notes from way back in the 40s or something -”

“Steve Rogers,” Tony realized. “Captain America.”

“Well, it didn't work at first,” the kid said. “They injected me with something, but it didn't do much - nothing bad, but nothing good either, at least for them. I kept feeling dizzy, and passing out. Then they got these new notes, a whole lot more modern. From what I can tell, they're coming from some company in America. They only started recently.

“They injected me with this new serum. It was crazy. Right after they injected it, it was like my senses we're going haywire. It was so bright, and loud, and everything I felt was so intense and uncomfortable. They thought it was a fluke at first, but when I woke up the next morning it was like everything evened out. It was still intense, but I'd adjusted. And I was stronger. Way stronger. I fought back, and I almost escaped. Now they keep me on the drugs to make sure I don't try anything. I also think my metabolism increased, because they started giving me less food, to keep my strength low.”

Tony listened to the kid as he cooked they're extremely low rations over the open fire. “so they want me to build them weapons, and they want you to become their weapon.”

“Sort of,” Peter shrugged, “I get the feeling I'm just their guinea pig. They're just using me to perfect their formula, before they give it to their more willing soldiers.”

“How did they get ahold of you?”

“I was visiting with my parents on a business trip. They're geneticists, and they were here doing research,” Peter's eyes glazed over, “They shot at the car, broke the windows. My father was killed in the driver's seat, and my mother was shot a moment later. I kept waiting. Waiting to die. When they broke into the car I thought they were going to kill me. But instead they just knocked me out and I woke back up here.”

Peter looked up at him with apologetic eyes. “They had your weapons, Mr. Stark.”

Tony focused on the kids dirty, worn down sneakers, sitting beside the bunk, not willing to meet the kids eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“I made the weapons,” Tony insisted.

“It's not like that,” Peter countered.

Tony decided to change the subject. “And what are they gonna do to you when they're done?”

Peter looked him in the eye. “Kill me, I would think.”

Tony met his gaze. “I won't let that happen.”

“Why?” The kid asked. “You hardly know me. Besides, you've got your own life at stake.”

“I don't have to know you,” Tony said. “You're a kid. You have so much more to live for than just this. You deserve a chance to live.”

“Mr. Stark, with all due respect, I don't have any reason to stay alive, my parents are dead. There's nothing left for me. Do you even have a plan to get out of here?”

Tony looked up, eyeballing one of the camera he had noticed we're stationed around the room.

“We'll see.”

Later that day, the cave was crowded with people carrying things inside. Tony was barking orders, Peter standing close by translating as fast as he could.

Soon the workspace was set up to. Tony's liking, well lit and equipped with everything he needed. There once open and large room was suddenly full of Stark Industries weapons and mechanics.

Once everyone had filed out of the cave, Tony began to work, sketching out blueprints for his big project - as well as a smaller one, one he would need to start working on as soon as possible. Glancing over, he caught Peter staring at the Stark Industries logo on one of the missiles. He looked like he wasn't really there.

“Kid,” Tony called, causing Peter to jump, snapping out of his reverie “Come make yourself useful.”

Peter cautiously came over toward him. Tony picked up a long tube - a missile. The kid stopped walking.

“Relax, they took out the explosives before they gave them to me. They're crazy, but not stupid. Now watch.”

Tony very meticulously and carefully broke apart the missile extracting what he needed. Until finally he pulled out a small piece metal with his tweezers.

“Okay, we don't need this,” Tony threw scrap pieces over his shoulder.

“What's that?” The kid asked.

“Palladium,” Tony said. “About .15 grams of it. I need at least 1.6, so why don't you start breaking down the other eleven.”

The kid was actually a very good helper. When he wasn't drugged up to his eyeballs he had remarkably steady hands, and he clearly knew how to break stuff apart the right way.

“I used to do this all the time, back at home,” Peter had explained. “I would get old broken computers from the thrift store, break them down and rewire them. I made some pretty cool stuff, or at least I liked to think so.”

Tony had waited for moment when Peter was more aware to have him heat up the palladium in the crucible and pour it into the sand mold Tony had constructed. Tony couldn't do it himself, since he had to hold onto his car battery.

“Careful,” he warned. “We only got one shot at this.”

“If you stop psyching me out,” the kid countered, “I might be more steady.”

Despite their banter, Peter had successfully poured it into the mold, and the next morning Tony pulled out a freshly made ring of palladium. By that point the poor kid had returned from one of his torture sessions and was the equivalent of a vegetable lying on their bunk.

Tony got to work, installing all the pieces, soldering and wiring, until his finished product whirred to life, glowing a faint blue in front of him.

Peter materialized over his shoulder, and it was at that point Tony noticed how much time had gone by.

“What's that?” The kid spoke in an awed whisper.

“It's a miniature ARC reactor. I've got a bigger one at home, powering my workshop.” Tony explained. “This one will keep the shrapnel out of my heart.”

“What does it generate?”

“If my math is correct - and it always is - about three gigajoules per second. Enough to power my heart for 50 lifetimes.” Tony turned and made eye contact with Peter. “Or something big for 15 minutes.”

The kid looked at him with wary eyes. “What are you planning?”

Tony stood up, leading the kid over to his blueprints, flattening them out to show him his other project - his much bigger project.

“Woah,” the kid breathed.

Tony wasn't sure how much time had passed before he was almost completely done with his project. He had about a week of work left to do, when once again there was a pounding on the door.

He and the kid exchanged nervous glances. It wasn't anywhere near time for Peter to be taken away again. They stood, hands behind their heads.

Man flooded the room, all armed with guns - no surprise. What was different this time was that the old leader, the one Tony had grown used to seeing, wasn’t there. Instead, another man took charge, a man Tony remembered from his one trip to the outside world since being imprisoned here.

“Relax,” The man said.

Tony and Peter tentatively let their hands fall to their sides. The man circled them, and began examining Tony’s blueprints. Tony’s heart leapt in fear. He doubted than man would be able to piece together what he was making, but still, it set him on edge.

“The bow and arrow was once the pinnacle of weapons technology. It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the Pacific to the Ukraine,” The man gave up trying to make sense of the blueprints. “Today, whoever has the latest Stark weapons rules these lands. Soon it will be my turn...”

The man turned to Peter, and started having a conversation with him, no longer talking in English, so Tony couldn’t follow along. Suddenly, Peter was forced to his knees, and his head was shoved down onto an anvil. Tony’s heart raced, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to let the kid get hurt, but he knew trying to help him might make things worse. The man picked up a set of Tony’s tongs, using them to remove a hot coal from the fire, and started maneuvering it towards the kids head, still shouting at Peter in a foreign tongue.

“What do you want, a delivery date?” Tony asked stepping forward to try and help the kid against his better judgment. The armed men quickly trained their guns on him, shouting words of warning, on Tony stopped, raising his hands in surrender. He looked around, trying to think of something that might help them. He looked to the man who was still holding the hot coal with his tongs, too close to the kid’s face for comfort.

“I need him,” Tony insisted. “He’s a good assistant.”

The air was still and tense. The room became so silent that Tony could hear Peter trying to take deep, calming breaths. Finally the man dropped the burning coal, signaling to his men to let Peter go.

“You have until tomorrow,” He warned, “to build my missile.”

Then they left.

Thankfully, the kid wasn’t dragged away for experiments again, which let them work more efficiently on the suit throughout the night. What would have taken a week was now being done in one night.

“What did they want?” Tony asked while hammering at the metal chest plate to give it shape.

“They’re onto you,” Peter warned, working on the wires and electrical work. “They kept asking what you were really building. I told them that you were working very hard on the Jericho, but it was very complex.”

“We need to get this done before sunrise,” Tony decided. “Otherwise they’ll come too soon and we won’t have a chance.”

By the time the light behind their small window had begun to turn orange like the morning, Peter was helping Tony into his suit, and they waited for the data from a small, old computer to load so that they could power it up.

“Say it again,” Peter prompted.

“41 steps straight ahead, 16 steps from the door, fork right, 33 steps, turn right,” Tony rattled off.

Peter took a shaky breath and nodded.

“Hey,” Tony said, trying to sound as calm as possible, “It’s gonna be fine.”

Peter nodded again. “Say it again.”

Tony knew it at this point, but he repeated it so that Peter could feel better.

“Almost at 100%,” Peter reported.

“Okay, remember than plan, kid. Stick to the plan. Remember your checkpoints, and make sure everything is clear before you follow me, okay?” Tony looked Peter dead in the eye, and the kid gave him another shaky nod. “It’ll be fine, It’ll -”

There was banging at the door. Peter gave a shaky gasp looking fearfully at the door. There was shouting.

“Say something to them,” Tony prompted.

“They’re speaking Hungarian,” Peter said. “I don’t know how to speak Hungarian.”

“Speak Hungarian,” Tony pressed, “Just say something in Hungarian.”

The kid’s eyes were wide with terror, and he loudly called out a couple of wavering words. It didn’t appear to work however, because the door was opened.

There was a loud ban, and both Peter and Tony felt the wave of the explosion that had been a trap that they had set on the door. It was supposed to be how they got out of here, but it was too soon.

“Okay, times up kid, we gotta go.” Tony moved to disconnect his suit.

“No!” Peter shouted, “You need more time -”

“Kid, we don’t got time, we need to make our move, now!”

“You stay here and wait for it to power up,” Peter said. “I can buy you a couple of minutes.”

Then, the kid ran to one of the bodies of the men who had been at the door, picking up one of their guns, then he ran out the door.

“Kid!” Tony yelled. “Kid! Stick to the plan! Stop!”

After several agonizing minutes of waiting, the loading bar on the computer reached 100%. The lights flickered, before the eventually powered off. Tony disconnected himself from the cables, and maneuvered the suit out of the cave, through the hole where the door had once stood.

Tony found the kid near the mouth of the cave, laying over a pile of sandbags, bleeding and panting. Tony had successfully picked off everyone inside the cave, and seeing that it was safe, he knelt by the kid and raised the helmet.

“Kid, c’mon, we have a plan and we’re gonna stick to it.”

The poor kid moaned in pain, whimpering when Tony rolled him over. He was bleeding profusely from his stomach. Tony could tell he had been shot. Peter let out agonized shot as Tony pulled one of the kid’s hands over the wound.

“Keep pressure on that, okay? I’m gonna deal with those guys out there, then I’m gonna come back, and we’re gonna get out of here okay?”

Peter whimpered. “- hurts, it hurts. Mr. Stark. Please. I don’t wanna die.”

“Shh,” Tony soothed. “You’ll be fine. Just put pressure on that wound and I’ll be back in a few minutes to get you, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

Peter nodded, pressing down on the wound, he yelled from the pain.

“Shh,” Tony soothed. “I’ll be right back, okay kid?”

He closed the mask and made his way outside.

Just as Tony had killed all of his captors, the suit lost power. He shed the heavy metal and took of the protective extra layers he had worn underneath of it so he wouldn’t get dehydrated too quickly.

He raced back to the kid, much more mobile now that he didn’t have the suit on. Remarkably, Peter had managed to sit up, and the wound underneath his hand was somewhat healed.

“The experiments,” Peter explained. “They didn’t drug me last night, so I’m stronger now, and I can heal quicker.”

“Yeah, but it still isn’t good that there’s still a bullet in there,” Tony said. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

When Rhodey found them with the air force helicopters while they braved the desert, Tony had never been more relieved.