#ive just been thinking on this for a long time

[trebuchet151]

I am so very late to the "Sidestep wearing their partner's merch/underwear" trend started by the lovely @kidhellion

Behold: some hypothetical domestic future where Corey can be soft and steal ALL their girlfriend's clothes

Individual frames without text under the cut

[wolvietxt]

hiiiiiii jay!! ive been having an unhealthy sleeping schedule lately, so i just wanted to know what you think frank would do if he catches you up pulling an all-nighter cause of some uni work when he came home from one of his missions. most especially, when you tell him you’ve done it for three straight nights while he was gone…

FRANK knew something was off the second he stepped into the apartment. it was quiet, too quiet, but not in the way that usually meant safety. the tv wasn’t on, no music played softly from your phone, and you didn’t come running up to him the second he locked the door behind him.  

his gut clenched.  

he slipped off his boots, careful not to track any dirt or blood onto the floor, and listened. he heard it then - the faint sound of typing. quick, rhythmic, desperate.  

with a sigh, he followed it, walking toward the kitchen, where the glow of your laptop screen cast shadows across your face. papers were scattered everywhere, some crumpled, some covered in highlighter. empty redbull cans were scattered around the tabletop. a half-eaten granola bar sat next to an empty coffee cup, and another coffee was in your hand, fingers curled tight around it like a lifeline.  

you didn’t even notice him.  

“sweetheart.” his voice was low, firm.  

you startled, eyes snapping up. he saw the exhaustion in them instantly - red-rimmed, glassy, dark circles bruising your skin.  

“frank,” you breathed, blinking fast like you were trying to clear your vision.  

he didn’t move toward you just yet, but he looked you over, taking in the way your hands trembled around the coffee cup, the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of whatever you were doing.  

“what’re you doin’ up?” he asked, though he already had an idea.  

“just… finishing some stuff,” you mumbled, eyes darting back to your laptop. “it’s nothing, really.”  

he glanced at the time on the microwave. 4:12 a.m.  

his jaw ticked.  

“when’s the last time you slept?”  

you hesitated, biting your lip, and he knew right then you were about to say something he wouldn’t like.  

“um … a little bit, here and there,” you finally said, voice too soft, too small.  

frank sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “baby.”  

“it’s fine,” you tried to reassure him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “i just needed to catch up on work. it’s been kinda crazy, and i thought, you know, since you were gone, i’d just - ”  

“how long?”  

your mouth opened, closed.  

he took a step forward. “how long you been doin’ this?”  

“…three nights.”  

his nostrils flared.  

“three damn nights?” his voice was sharper now, and you flinched. not out of fear, but because you knew how much he hated this - hated seeing you worn down, pushing yourself past your limits. you’d hate to see him disappointed in you but in your defence, you thought he’d be home a whole lot later.

“i just - i had to, frank,” you whispered. “i got so behind, and i didn’t want you to come back to me all stressed and falling apart, so i just - ”  

his hands were on you before you could finish, tugging you up and out of the chair, wrapping you up tight against him. you didn’t even realize you were crying until he sighed against your hair, feeling the dampness on his shirt.  

“sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough with something heavy, something that made your chest ache. “you think i care ‘bout any of that? you think i want you doin’ this to yourself?”  

“i just wanted to keep up,” you sniffled, fingers fisting in his jacket. “i didn’t wanna be a mess when you got back.”  

he pulled back just enough to cup your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. his eyes, dark and tired but so damn full of love, locked onto yours.  

“you could be the biggest damn mess in the world, and i wouldn’t care. you hear me?” he said, low and firm. “don’t wanna come home to you runnin’ yourself into the ground. don’t wanna see you like this.”  

you nodded, lower lip trembling, and he groaned, pressing a kiss there, then another, then another, like he was trying to fix it, to erase the exhaustion, the stress, the weight you’d been carrying alone.  

“c’mon,” he muttered, tugging you toward the bedroom. “you’re done. no more of this.”  

“but - ”  

he shot you a look. “no buts. you’re gonna sleep.”  

you wanted to protest, but the second you hit the bed, exhaustion slammed into you like a tidal wave. you barely registered the weight of him next to you, pulling you against his chest, hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back.  

“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispered against your hair, voice soft, warm. “always.”  

and for the first time in three nights, you believed it.

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc, @erospecies

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[forthefictionallesbians]

I don't think we've really grappled with affini biorhythms, and their impact on society. We've all heard stories about them from overeager florets, or the urban legends about what happens if an affini decides to stay near you for too long. It's honestly kind of terrifying, knowing that our wills can be so easily subverted on the whim of our benevolent overlords.

But at the same time, I can't think of the last time I saw the parks on Tyriador-IV this crowded. Or the bars and restaurants, the bookstores and museums. Yes, some of that is undoubtedly that the old pollution has been scrubbed, transit has been made cheap and affordable, outdoor spaces have become vastly more pleasant, and we no longer need to work long hours just to survive. The affini claim that it is simply due to that, the fruits of their social reforms and alteration of our material circumstances. That is the easy narrative, one I haven't even heard the most rabid feralists question, though they see it as far more sinister than I believe it to be.

I think otherwise. If you're reading this post, I'd ask that you look, really look, at the spaces where people tend to congregate. The spaces and venues that fill up day after day. I'm willing to bet that, regardless of the planet or vessel you're on, you'll see the same thing I've noticed--people go where the affini are. Even with all the complaints I've seen independents make about their incessant flirting, or how unsettling it can be to be surrounded by florets, the majority of the humans here spend significant amounts of time hanging around areas also filled with affini. Even I've found myself doing it.

Nobody I've asked has even been conscious of this bias in their own behavior. Most seem to think I'm some feralist grasping at straws, or just plain crazy. But I'm not. I am as grateful as anybody that they got rid of the old fascist Accord and replaced it with this utopia. I just need people to take me seriously when I say that I think we're all unconsciously dosing ourselves on their biorhythm. Not to the point where we're getting tied to any one individual affini. But collectively? Our entire species is drifting towards subservience in ways we didn't even realize. I tried to avoid all affini this last week, staying in my hab to avoid any biorhythm exposure, and I almost had a panic attack. It was only after my Hab AI called for a crisis vet that I realized I used to have panic attacks all the time, and they'd stopped after the affini took over. Just being around them is subtly soothing, and we're slowly waltzing our collective way towards dependency.

I wonder how much easier to domesticate we've gotten after years of daily exposure. Not everyone is as on-the-brink as I am, and obviously there are still plenty of stubborn holdouts. But please, search your feelings. See if you enjoy being out and about, and then test whether you enjoy it as much if you're still outside but away from any affini. Everyone needs to be aware of this, even if I myself can't resist how much I enjoy their presence.

It's hard to even fall asleep without a biorhythm subtly pulsing through me these days. I'm very grateful that Phiola has been letting me sleep firmly nestled in her vines. But please, don't discount my words because I'm a ward, and will likely be a floret soon. This feels like important information to share, if just so all the rest of you wannabe independents can know just how deeply ensnared you already are.

-Eric Statler, he/they

[pupslimes]

how easy you are to need part 1

so. inspiration struck. blame haz for how long this is he infected me with the making stories a million pages bug. thank you to like all 5 of the people who read this before i posted it. anyways id like to present what i think is tumblrs first grizz x reader. definitely its first biz x grizz x reader because ive been scouring for that shit. love you guys!

.............................................................................

It was a good session again. Of course, anything Nate DM’ed was going to be great, but every session felt better than the last. You hadn’t expected to become a recurring character on Riptide when Nate had invited you to join at an open audition you met at, but you were more than excited to be. You didn’t expect all your nervous ramblings to end up taking you anywhere past an Instagram follow at best. But after you hopped down from the stage, Nate had booked it over. “I don’t even care if either of us get the part anymore,” he tripped over his feet and his words as he skidded to a halt in front of you, as if desperate to reach you. “Do you play DND?” At your excited nod, he had launched into an explanation of his podcast, particularly the campaign he ran, and you’d jumped at the chance, excited to maybe grow your own audience. And it had grown, but so had your friend group. By so many now, well beyond the five who you met when you started guest appearing. You’d even made your way into a few of Charlie’s videos at this point. A few speculations had swirled around about if you were dating anyone you were appearing with, but you’d solidly put those rumors to bed on your first stream post guest appearance. Your regular chat new you were an aspiring voice actor, and several of them were apparently also JRWI fans, cheering for you when they’d heard you’d met Grizzly. You were probably going to have to start seeking mods at this point, with the few people who just couldn’t seem to let your relationship status go, or thought they had the right to be assholes now that you’d gained a little notority with the boys and Milo. Jealous freaks.

You had poured a lot of yourself into your DND character, and it showed. He was incredibly flirty, just like you were in real life. It was what had helped you build your brand, a sharp sense of humor and an almost strange openness to your chat hitting on you. Not many guy streamers responded like you do to your chat, so you saw a small flood of watchers when you started. After you were outed, the viewership might have gone down, but you hardly noticed after the queer community had started pouring into the chat, their support becoming your mainstay in the community. You’d branched out from gaming, now running practice lines or even cooking streams with your close community of followers. You were nowhere near quitting your day job, but you loved your audience for their kindness, not the money. Of course some of the new people had also seen Just Roll With It, and had guessed when you mentioned you’d be guest starring on a show soon, and described your character in great detail. You’d kept quiet about confirming it outright, however, and enjoyed the excited messages from those who were proven right when the episode dropped. The chat demanded a watch party, but you cringed at the idea of watching yourself for an entire episode, especially with the knowledge that you were around for several.

Of course you’d stayed for several. Any time everyone gathered in LA, the boys filmed as many episodes as possible. There was a huge popularity in the in person episodes compared to the rest of them, and it was obvious to you why after sitting in on a few. The energy between the five was abundant, everyone practically bouncing off the walls both on and off camera. You had to toss back a few energy drinks to keep up with the rest of them, especially Charlie, who seemed like a boundless ball of energy, bouncing around at lightspeed and chatting your ear off. Your only solace was Milo, who seemed to also hang back just a little bit, except when it came to Zach. You were immediately taken under her wing, as another Riptide newbie, and she demanded you sit with her all day, claiming you needed to team up against the rest of the group. You giggled, and everyone else laughed with you, especially after you cracked a joke in response. The tension rolled off your shoulders after that, and you found yourself able to settle in more easily. You made a mental note to thank her later, which you did, profusely, but she just waved it off with a light shove to your shoulder.

Of course, being in an enclosed basement with five other people, in incredibly close quarters, meant you noticed things better. Meant you noticed a lot of things better, actually. For instance, you noticed the way that Nate constantly fiddled with his hair, pushing and shoving it around his forehead, tossing their head slightly to keep it away from their eyes. Their hands were never still either, twisting at any prop he could get his hands on, or on any jewelry he was wearing. Those were definitely the reasons you spent so much time staring at their hands and face. That and the fact that he was the DM. That was it, absolutely no other reason. And your cheeks were flushed from the heat in there! No matter that Zach had, as usual, set the AC to 69 degrees, six bodies in a room together was bound to generate a lot of heat. 

Speaking of Zach… well. From the beginning, you couldnt help but notice him after the two of you were introduced. His hair fell around his face very nicely, and his stubble looked like it would be almost soft to the touch. You were looking because you were envious, obviously! Getting on T had changed your hair pattern, and it kept a slight wave to it now. You had no idea what to do with it, but Zach obviously did. You’d have to ask him for his hair routine later, even though you assumed it was probably just three in one or something. Ugh. Cis men were so lucky, and they had no idea. The beard was also a source of envy for you. Yours grew in patchy and scraggly, the texture making you bristle when you touched it, so you kept your cheeks, chin, and neck absent of any hair. Sure it contributed to you not passing as well, but after getting top surgery, you really couldnt bring yourself to care. Everyone in the room made it a point to respect your pronouns, and your stomach only twisted when Zach called you man or dude because it gave you euphoria! Absolutely no other reason…

Safe to say, you were probably fucked.

So what if every time you made eye contact with one of them your cheeks flushed a little darker? It wasn’t visible on camera (yes, you did check, and no, it wasn’t weird that you asked to see the footage. Image as a streamer was important, okay?), and none of them commented on it, so you did your best not to draw attention to it either. You only laughed a little too loud at a joke once or twice, and it could totally be played off as nerves about the game. It was fine! Everything was going to be fine! You carefully kept watch on both Zach and Nate the first day, noting the glances they exchanged, but it never seemed to be anything past about the campaign itself.

You were able to relax more on the second day you trampled down the basement stairs, already buzzed on an extra large coffee from the shop up the street from Charlie’s place. You’d hit up the gas station as well, picking up snacks for the group along with your energy drinks you had found yourself craving yesterday. As you tossed a bag of Donettes on the table, Zach’s hand shot out to snatch them. “Bro! These are my favorite! How did you know?” He tore into the bag.

“Dude! It’s day two! Do you already have no fucking sense of decorum left?” Milo ribbed.

Zach lobbed a doughnut at her, which she caught on instinct, before lamenting her now powder covered fingers. Zach just snorted. “Serves you right,” He looked over to you, sticking a thumb out towards Milo and jamming it towards her. “Women, am I right?” You cackled, elbows dropping to the table to hold your head in your hands as you laughed with him.

“Lord forbid women do anything!” Milo called. “You’re officially uninvited from sitting next to me today, by the way. Hang out with your traitorous boy friends or whatever,”

“Fine! Maybe I will!” you chuckled. “Girls have cooties anyways!”

Zach slipped an arm around your waist, smiling triumphantly as he pulled you towards him. Your yelp came from nothing except surprise, thank you very much, and your glance to Nate was only to make sure that they weren’t waiting to get started, thank you very, very much. Nate’s gaze was trained on you, but he seemed a little spaced out, so your stomach settled quickly. Removing Zach’s hand from your hip gently, you scolded him.

“Hands off, unless you want me in your lap, Biz,” you joked, attempting to ease the tension slightly.

“Maybe I do,” he purred, jokingly. Jokingly, right? Obviously. Whatever. So what your heart caught in your throat?

You shook your head, face reddening slightly. “Gross dude, I’m not fucking gay,”

The rest of the room burst out laughing with you two this time, and you shoved him away from you as you crashed down into the chair next to him. You all settled down pretty quickly at Nate’s urges, and you jumped into session after session, poking a little more fun at Milo today than you had yesterday. The rest of them were treated with even more fervor, just like your other interactions with them. Eventually, after a few Riptide sessions, full of screaming, bullying, and threats, you all cut the cameras and broke for lunch, ordering a practical buffet from the Asian place down the street. It was dead silent for the first several minutes after the food had been divvied out, everyone ravenous after all the effort from the morning. Eventually, Nate broke the silence, turning to you. “Hey,”

“Yeah, Grizz?”

“You know you can call us all our names right? Like, off camera? I know it’s weird to use two names but. We like using names outside of session,” he smiled at you gently.

Your cheeks darkened immediately. “Ah! Um… well. If anyone is going to be good at using two names for people, it’ll be me,” A general chuckle from around the table. “I just wasn’t sure we were friends like that quite yet,”

Nate piqued an eyebrow at you. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re in the inner circle at this point! Once you’re in a Charlie video, you’re in!”

“Even if you’re only there virtually? Among Us doesn’t usually indicate the highest level of friendship,”

A snort from Charlie. “Well, yeah I guess, but you’ve joined the slompound officially, dude,”

A grin split your face. “Okay! Thanks, Sli- Charlie,” 

He smiled back at you. Nate pouts. “Hey! I’m the one who brought it up!” 

You turned back to them. “Of course, how could I forget? Thank you, Nate,” You must have imagined the color that dusted high on his cheeks when you said his name.

When you all made it back down to the basement, you decided to push your luck a little. “Miloooooo,” you whined. She turned to you, and so did Zach and Nate, Charlie and Eric continuing to swap out props for Judgement sessions. “If I apologize for earlier can I sit next to you again? Zach smells,”

Her face perked with a laugh, but before she could get any words out, Zach wss on top of you. “Hey!” He smacked at you gently a few times. “Fucking rude bitch,” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he smirked, before grabbing for it, his thumb grazing it before you could slip it back in your mouth. You reacted a second too late, pretending to be disgusted at the taste of his skin, sputtering and spitting, before retreating towards Milo. 

She looked at you with false pity in her eyes. “Oh you poor thing, of course you can sit with me!” She fliped off Zach, and you joined her. He flipped you off back.

Condi’s voice boomed out in the room. “Ooooooookay, you guys. Let’s cool off now, yeah?” The fingers all turned to him. “Hey!”

After several sessions of Judgement, you all stumbled, bleary eyed, up the basement stairs, slamming bodies down onto the couches forming the pit in Charlie’s living room. Charlie groaned, turning his head to the side. 

“Half an hour of rotting, and then dessert and a movie?” More groans, ascension from the others and yourself filled the room. You closed your eyes, letting the shapes behind them spin and lull you into a stupor. 

Before you knew it, someone was shaking you awake. You blinked heavily, hands reaching out to tangle in a shirt, and a small grunt was let into your ear, breath brushing your face. “Come on, man,” a gravelly voice nearly cooed down at you. Your eyes opened wider. Oh, shit. That would be Zach above you, and his shirt you had your hands tangled in. You released it quickly, pressing yourself back down into the couch. 

“Sorry, bro!”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothing to apologize for. You’re cute when you’re sleepy or whatever,” he winked at you.

Despite knowing it was a joke, your breath caught in your throat a little. “And you’re a sight to wake up to,” You shot back. He grinned.

“Come on, argue with me for ice cream,” he referenced your favorite dessert, warming your heart that he remembered it.

In the end, you got ice cream. Nate also immediately glued themself to your side when you walked in with Zach, and became your ally in the dessert argument. His weird tension towards Bizly relaxed after he advocated for ice cream as well, and you couldn’t help but wonder at what was happening between the two of them. You didn’t have enough brain power left that night to really bring yourself to decode it, so you let it go. After the movie, everyone unanimously agreed to crash as fast as possible, and you barely even made it to your room before you passed out. 

That was how you found yourself now, on your third day with the group. You squint against the sun, streaming through the blinds you hadn’t closed last night. You consider going back to sleep for another hour or so, but the disgusting taste in your mouth eventually forces you up. You had definitely forgotten to brush your teeth last night. As you scrubbed at your teeth with a heavy hand, you woke up slightly more, checking the time on your phone. 11:30. You were grateful you only had the one session to film today, and then you’d have time to just hang out with everyone. They’d even agreed to stream with you later, insisting you all play Jackbox together. You spat into the sink. Gross. Orange. Rinsing out your mouth and splashing your face, you ponder on who else could be up. You decide to sneak into the kitchen and see who’s around. Padding in on gentle feet, you can smell coffee brewing. You peek around the corner, and long silvery hair catches your eye. 

“Hey, Nate,” your voice is always a little gravelly in the mornings, catching in the back of your throat until you’ve really woken all the way up.

He startles a little at your call, head snapping over his shoulder before he relaxes. “Oh, hey! Sorry, voice I’m not used to hearing in the morning. You sound like you smoke a pack a day or something,”

You chuckle, hand rubbing the back of your neck. “Is it at least hot?”

His cheeks flush a little, but he grins. “Very,”

You hum in appreciation, sliding over in your sock feet to the coffee pot. “Almost ready?”

They nod. “Started it about 5 minutes ago. Sorry if the noise woke you up,”

Unable to fully communicate, you shake your head and reach for him, dragging him into a hug to show your feelings instead. He lets out a slight noise of surprise, before reaching to hug you back. Arms tangle over your waist, and his head drops to your shoulder, where it fits perfectly due to your height difference. You hum lightly, gripping him a little tighter, before drifting away mentally just a little, drinking in the warmth and softness of his support beneath your head, clad in a comfy red sweatshirt. He smells like some kind of plant life and petrichor. You inhale more deeply, trying to catch what kind of plant it is, but the long breaths and comforting position go straight to your still hazy brain, and you find yourself relaxing into them further. Nate never protests, his head shifting further into the crook of your shoulder ,a gentle sigh escaping him.

When the coffee timer goes off, beeping a singular time, both of you tense slightly. You realize just how long you’ve been wrapped in each other, and you step away slightly. “Sorry,”

His face is almost the same color as his hoodie. “Don’t be,”

Before you can say anything else, a voice sounds from the hallway. “Do I hear coffee?” Eric strolls into the room. “Thank you guys so fucking much, holy shit. I alwways feel hungover after big session days. I’m not sure how we ever recorded The Suckening all at once,”

“I’m assuming a lot of caffeine,” you huff, and Nate nods at your side, attempting nonchalance. 

“That and going crazy in the red room,”

You all giggle together, pouring and sipping at coffee, the other two feeding you stories of different campaigns, you drinking them in with glittering eyes. The others eventually make their way in, joining the three of you at the table. You don’t even notice that Nate’s leg has pressed against yours under the table until Zach pulls up the chair to your other side, squishing himself up to you. “You snore in your sleep,”

You smack at his wrist, skin to skin echoing in the room as your eyes widen. “Good morning to you, sunshine,”

He smirks. “I got up to piss in the middle of the night and heard it,”

“Fuck you,”

“If you insist,”

You stick your tongue out at him again. He raises an eyebrow before reaching to pinch it again. This time, you snap your teeth at his fingers. “Feisty boy,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Freak,”

He chuckles. “You’re the one who tried to bite me,” 

You huff. “I’m talking to Nate now. Goodbye,”

He pretends to pout as you turn yourself to Nate, leaning in further to him. “Hi, handsome,”

He swallows heavily before responding, but recovers fast, leaning into you as the conversations continue, Milo now yelling at Zach for being a bitch. Again. You giggle. Breakfast goes by quickly, and before you know it, you’re back in the basement. You stay attached to Nate this time, even after he pulls off his sweatshirt, and your skin is pressing directly to his. Everyone is crowded together more today. No one will notice.

After you finish the session, much more quickly this time, you peel yourself from him. “I’m going upstairs for another energy drink,” you declare. “I’ll need it to survive the day. I can come clean up later,” The rest of them wave you off, insisting you shouldn’t be cleaning after your first in person week, and you blow them a raspberry as you bounce upstairs. 

Reaching into the fridge, you pull out an ice cold can, relishing in the feeling against your heated hands. You crack open the can over the sink, and take a long pull from it. You close your eyes as you feel the caffeine start invading your bloodstream, and your thoughts wander back to the events from below.

Lost in thought about the session, and maybe about Nate and Zach, you don't notice anything until the sound of rustling perks your ears. you turn around at the noise. He's standing behind you, inches away, grinning. You stumble back a few steps. "Oh! Biz... ah, Zach...hi," The name still feels foreign in your mouth, not your gut reaction, but they’d all practically demanded you start calling them their names. As you move backward, not looking where you're going, you back into a wall...no... someone. someone warm, someone whose arms wrap around your waist as they press a kiss to the shoulder they were buried in only hours earlier. "Hey, sweetheart," Fuck.  "Hi, Nate,"

[castleskies]

how it was it will never be again

Two weeks after Elgar'nan is defeated, the Veilguard dismantles – or, I listened to the new SYML album.

Spoilers for Veilguard's ending, ft. Rook de Riva and romanced!Lucanis.

Someday I'll get this on A03 (if you'd like to see it there instead, let me know!)

i.

Emmerich is the first to leave. He has, after all, proper duties to attend to as a professor in the Grand Necropolis. One might argue that his job is even more in demand, with the recent conclusion of events. The party that escorts him is sizable – Rook follows him to the eluvian in the Crossroads; Manfred is personally ferried by Assan, who's taken a shine to the spirit. (Emmerich's worried, but Manfred's so pleased that he can't find it in him to discourage it.)

Rook had thought that Manfred might take the parting harder; but it's Emmerich, who tries for a "My dear Rook–" only to warble at the end that does. Rook tilts her head as she waits for the professor, normally eloquent, to continue; and when nothing else is said, she does what a Crow does best – takes action, by drawing him into a hug (for after everything he's done, a hand stretched into the Fade for her, this feels too little; not enough.)

Beside, Manfred makes a sound of an excited hiss.

Rook draws him into a hug, too.

ii.

It's Taash who leaves, next. The Lords of Fortune don't rest long – always in search of more gold and glory – and their time with the Veilguard is borrowed, after all. Taash forbids any crying or tearful farewells, which is to say everyone is made to be on their best behavior, otherwise.

Rook finds them lingering in Harding's room, the day before they're meant to leave.

"No tears," Taash warns; and Rook smiles the way she's been smiling, worn and wry with lines around her mouth that's sunk a little deeper, after all this time. "I was just going to say the room still smells like cheese, actually," which in turn causes Taash to get misty eyed instead. There's a shared sorrow that hangs between the two of them; the way that Taash is Rivaini and proud but no pride can bear an unending grief for long.

Rook says nothing else, and leaves them there.

They part at the Hall of Valor – Rook smartly sneaks out before Isabela can convince her to go in the ring for one more round.

iii.

Davrin is a man of duty – and while the Grey Wardens arguably have no further purpose, the griffons are still in need of care.

Still, it doesn't make his departure any easier. Davrin takes little with him; leaves more behind, really, a lifetime accustomed to traveling light. Arlathan promises a home, but Rook has a nagging sensation that he won't stay in one place for long – not with the promise of a detective agency opening in Miranthous with Neve, or Bellara's declaration that she'd come by and Rook has no doubt Davrin will be put to work.

Rook thinks he'd enjoy it – keeping busy, doing things with his hands; she'd miss watching him whittle wood while petting Assan in his quarters. He seems to realise it too, pressing a small wood figurine into her palm before he goes. It's easy to overlook how well Davrin sees a person and knows them. It's always been easy to be in his company.

Rook glances down; there's a chess piece of the Tower that he's carved himself. "Don't be a stranger, Rook," he says, as Rook's fingers wrap around the wood figurine. "You bet."

Assan nips her fingers playfully. No tears, Taash had said; but she might have snuck one against the griffon's feathers in a parting hug.

iv.

Neve doesn't quite declare that she's leaving. Instead, she comes for breakfast one day with her bags and a look that Rook can't miss. Lucanis' hands her a coffee for the road – probably the best one you'd get for a while, he says almost exasperatedly, and it sparks a laugh from Rook and a roll of eyes from the detective.

"He's good for you, too," she says slyly, and Rook mirrors Lucanis' exasperation as she shakes her head; never the last word, not with Neve involved, and Rook doesn't examine too deeply how well the detective sees her and the absence of laughter, since – "you stay out of trouble, now."

As Neve shimmers out of sight through the eluvian, Rook is struck with the notion that everyone she started this journey with has left –

v.

But she turns and finds herself embraced: it's Lucanis who draws her close, having come with her as he has, everytime; and walks her back to the Lighthouse.

vi.

Bellara is among the last to leave because she simply cannot pass up the opportunity to be in The Fade for just a little longer – though her relationship with it is strained from the scars of the blight, an invisible undercurrent that perpetually hums beneath her skin even after everything. But Arlathan needs her; Bellara has duties that she holds dear.

"You have to come visit," Bellara all but invokes the promise out of her, sealed with hooked pinky fingers. Bemused, Rook latches on a little longer, and tries to ignore the sting of Bellara leaving.

"Show me Arlathan," Rook says at last, as she withdraws her hand. "The future that you'll make."

vii.

Rook knows that Lucanis has been delaying his departure for her. It's not lost on her that the First Talon is in demand; and now that gods are slain (twice over!) his services have only become more coveted, for the right price. He says he can stay as long as he can put off the Crows, but if Viago's latest letter indicates anything –

Idiot, it begins with, as if he is not addressing a Hero of the Veilguard (or so the Minrathous papers write).

– it is that the Crows give no respite for rest.

"First Talon." Rooks attempt lacks Davrin's gravitas, but draws Lucanis' attention all the same. Her fingers are threaded through his hair as he lies next to her; she smiles, wry, at the attention. "Can't put the Crows off forever."

Which is to say – he'll have to leave, tomorrow. They will return to Treviso; pick up pieces of a life that's been all but put on hold – since Viago had sent her away; since the Ossuary had held him under. Things aren't the same as they were back then, but it's not a bad thing.

Things are changing; she knows he wants it to.

viii.

It's Lucanis who asks, this time, as they stand before the eluvian into the Cantori Diamond.

"I have you."

It's Rook who takes his hand, and squeezes it. "You do."

[hinamie]

So proud of you!!! You've got this!!!!! I just recently moved as well, and I'm still trying to figure stuff out despite being here for about a month already. I do have the good fortune of having people beside me (who'd moved several months beforehand, but I was here to help for the first week.) Once you get your desk set up for the first time, and things start getting into their place, it'll be wonderful. Enjoy your new home! May it bring you warmth and comfort and fond memories!

aaaa thank you!!!!!! it's been a long time since my last move and this whole thing has felt like a major upheaval especially after how emotionally devastating january was, but i'm slowly settling in i think :'> or at the very least i've been keeping busy enough to distract myself lmao ive spent the last 2 nights arranging my plushies and figures and putting up all my prints to the point where my fingertips ache from the tape bc i can neither rest nor be productive until every single one of my trinkets is on display

we're gettin somewhere tho!

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy IV

a yandere art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... masterlist/chapter map

IV.

You’re a little alarmed, until the passenger side window rolls down, and you see Professor Wick behind the wheel. He’s dressed for a night out, driving gloves and all, and a wave of desire nearly takes you out at the knees. This man. 

Does he have to look so goddamn edible all the fucking time?

“I thought I recognized you,” he says with a half smile that nearly stops your heart. You wonder if he’s implying that he almost didn’t recognize you, with clothes on. The thought sends an unreasonable spear of longing right through your center. You press your thighs together out of self defence, praying that he will just think that you are cold.

You tilt your head, curious what he’s doing here, even while your heart clamors like a brass band in your chest. “Hi.” 

“Need a ride?” 

“I’m ok.” 

He frowns. “You really shouldn’t be walking around alone this late.” 

You shrug. Despite what the talking heads love to yell about on the news about the rampant violence in the inner city, you’ve never had a problem in your neighborhood before. 

When he sees you’re unmoved he sighs–you’re not sure if at you, or himself. “Humor me?” 

The fact is…you were more unsettled by how much you wanted to jump in his car from the moment he asked. 

“Alright.”

Ensconced in the buttery leather seat, you have to admit it’s a lot warmer inside the Porsche. You look around the interior. It’s an older model, but you can tell, lovingly maintained. “Nice car.” 

“Thanks.” 

You didn’t think professors got paid so well, but maybe he has other sources of income. One has to diversify in today’s economy, you know very well. There’s so much you want to know about him–you’re too shy to ask. 

He works the gears to pull away from the curb, and you feel yourself relax in the cozy atmosphere of the car at night. It’s intimate, but not uncomfortable, even if it feels surreal that he’s here, with you, like you conjured him purely out of the strength of your longing. 

“Big night?” he asks, maybe with a glint of teasing in his dark eyes, because it’s not even yet twelve.

“Hardly,” you laugh. “Just a drink with a friend. You?” 

“Dinner out.” He doesn’t specify if he was alone. Somehow, looking at this man…you doubt it. He’s dressed well, as usual, in a crisp shirt, dress pants, and a long wool overcoat, so handsome you could eat your hands. You think about this, a stupid jealousy stirring inside you that you know you have no right to. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, maybe because you have been quiet, watching the street as you zoom by, trying not to stare at the man beside you. 

“I think so,” you say absently, thinking about how you’re sure now that you invented the sight of him at the bar, and turned down a strapping young man to boot, all because of this silly forbidden longing for your boss you’ve managed to ball up like a tangle of barbed wire inside you. “It’s just…been a weird night.”

He frowns at this, a thunderous expression that makes your heart skip a beat. “Did someone hurt you?” 

It startles you, how quickly he bristles in your defense. You're not used to anyone worrying about you so much. “No, nothing like that,” you quickly assure him. “I’ve just…” You don’t even know how to describe your problem, much less how to tell him in a way that doesn’t make you sound utterly pathetic. “I’ve just felt emptier than usual, is all.” You cannot meet his eyes as you say it, but he nods all the same. 

“I think…I know what you mean.” 

Hardly five minutes go by before you arrive at your apartment building, a blocky old brick structure from the turn of the century. You stare at your hands in your lap, pick at an imaginary pill in your tights. “Thanks for the ride. Do you…want to come inside for a drink or something?” 

You hold your breath in the eternity it takes for him to answer. You feel him look at you, the weight of that heavy dark gaze like a blanket upon your skin. Is it possible, to choke on desire? You feel like your heart has been replaced by an angrily pulsing sea urchin covered in merciless little spines.  

“I do want to,” he finally answers, staring fixedly at his eloquent gloved hands upon the leather wrapped steering wheel. “But I shouldn’t, y/n.” 

You nod, knowing he’s right, heartbroken anyway. You’re so good at doing that to yourself that you should receive a trophy, and you suppose there is an amusing karma in this mirrored situation with young Matthew. 

It sucks, to say the least, to be on this side of rejection. Now all you want is to go hide under your covers–and maybe not emerge for ten years. 

“Ok. See you in class, then.” 

“Goodnight, y/n.” 

He waits until you’ve made it through the security door before he pulls away. You watch with your cheek pressed to the cool glass, as red tail lights disappear into the night with a growl. 

It slips your mind, that you never told him where you live.

TBC...

___

masterlist/chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing — Seth Rollins ♥︎ f!OC 🖤 Summary — Seth believes he's doing the right thing. (Part 2/?) 1 | 2 🖤 Word Count — 2.7k 🛑 Warnings — Attempted suicide, depression, infidelity, hospital setting 18+ 🖤 Taglist — If you'd like to be added, please click here! 🖤 MASTERLIST

Violet

Every time she moved, the uncomfortable vinyl chair squeaked, but it was a welcomed change, however brief, from the incessant beeping of the machine monitoring Seth’s heart rate. Six days later, and he was at the point where he appeared as though he were merely sleeping—his color had mostly returned from the pallid shade he’d been discovered in, he’d been given sponge baths, and the nurse had allowed Violet to gently brush his hair before twisting it into a bun the way he liked it and tying it in place with the very elastic band he’d been using that day, tears streaming down her face through the entire process. His long, beautiful lashes rested on his cheeks, and his fiancée had also been permitted to trim his beard, sobbing during this action as well. 

He could have been sleeping.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been sad then. She was angry now. And she would be sad again in a day or two—a vicious cycle she was slowly getting used to. How could he do this? Why? Things had been going so well, or, she supposed, she thought they’d been going well. Seth had smiled and laughed and held her and kissed her and made love to her just as he normally did in the weeks leading up to that day. She’d never once suspected he was thinking about trying to kill himself, and neither had any of the friends or family or coworkers she’d interrogated—if Seth wasn’t going to give her any answers, she’d have to find someone who would, however utterly irrational a decision this was. No one knew what had been going through Seth’s mind but Seth, and he was in a coma. 

He was recovering, the doctors assured her, though it was a slow process, and of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure he’d ever wake up again. His brain function had improved after several medications, oxygen, and sedation, and she’d been told his recovery was rather astonishing given how much poison he’d ingested. But, as someone with no medical background, she witnessed no advancement—just her sleeping, depressed, suicidal fiancé, dressed in a generic hospital gown, several IVs inserted into veins in both his arms. The medical team couldn’t be sure if any coma patient was able to hear the outside world, but they encouraged her to talk to him anyway. The first few days had been full of weeping and begging and pouring her heart out to him with no response. 

“I have an appointment tomorrow,” she softly spoke. She’d turned the chair around so she could face Seth and hold his hand, both of which she was doing now. One hand under his, the other on top, and he was so warm and she recognized all his fingers and all his lines, but his muscles were lifeless. She never thought she could miss someone squeezing her hand so much. The head of his bed had been lifted, and she’d assisted the nurse in making sure he at least looked comfortable on his pillow and under the scratchy blanket and sheet. “It’s my first ultrasound.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I was gonna—” She sniffed, flicking the tears away quickly so she could return her hand to Seth’s.  “I was gonna wrap it up and give it to you for Valentine’s Day.” More tears. “Damn it, Seth.” She doubled over, forehead on her hand, and it was one of those moments where she couldn’t breathe. 

Would he be around to see his child grow up? If he survived, what sort of quality of life would he have? Had she really kissed him for the last time? Suddenly she couldn’t remember what his voice sounded like. She’d have to pull up the videos of him on her phone so she could refresh her otherwise concussed brain. 

A knock at the sliding glass door, and she didn’t acknowledge it for a long moment.

“Vi?”

She inhaled deeply, again brushing the salty tears from her cheeks, as well as her chin and neck. She sat up, automatically searching Seth’s unbothered face for any changes, even the most subtle ones, but there was nothing. Still sleeping. So beautiful. “What?” she rasped, then cleared her throat. 

“How’s he—” 

“He’s the same, Hunter.” 

Triple H entered the room, likely knowing he wouldn’t receive an answer either way if he asked. Violet smelled his cologne—another embraced change from the stinging antiseptic scent of the entire hospital. Even the cafeteria. He stood on the opposite side of Seth’s bed, huge hands resting on the safety rail. “Have they said anything—?” 

“Hunter, I promise, if he wakes up, I’ll let you know. If the doctors say anything different than what they’ve been saying for the past week, I’ll let you know.” 

“I’m sorry, I—” 

“Just,” Violet interrupted, lifting her hand from Seth’s to rub her forehead. “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “This is an angry day.”

Hunter shrugged and swatted a hand. “Don’t apologize. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” She nodded—she hardly knew what she was going through. “I just hope you know how much I care about both of you.”

Violet sniffed, watching Seth inhale, exhale, features so soft and serene and perfect. Could he hear them right now? “I know,” she replied.

“That being said—” 

“You son of a bitch,” Violet chuckled dryly, shaking her head. 

“It’s not my idea, but I promised I’d present it.” 

“Let me save you some time.” She glared up at him. “I’m not going on television, and you’re not mentioning him on television. Anything else?” 

“We just wanna give you time—” 

“Hunter.” 

Her boss held up a hand. “We just wanna give you some time to update the fans. You can say whatever you wanna say. You have carte blanche.” 

“No thanks.”

Hunter’s smile was sympathetic, and Violet wanted to curb stomp him for herself and her fiancé. She squeezed Seth’s hand still resting in hers, her heart crumbling as she again received no response. “Obviously you can do what you want. But let me just say one thing.” Violet sighed, nodded. “A lot of these fans grew up with Seth. And you. And what happened effected them, too.  Hell, some of them call you two their parents.” Tears brimmed once more, her gaze locked on Seth. Parents. “And you have kids—” He incorporated air quotes. “—in NXT.” Kids. 

It came out before she knew it was happening. “I’m pregnant, Hunter.” Her boss’s mouth clamped shut and his grip tightened on the safety rail. 

“Did Seth—” Violet shook her head, the tears accumulating before now freely falling. “Vi, I don’t—” 

“If I promise to think about going on TV, will you leave?”

Hunter chewed on his bottom lip as he rounded the foot of Seth’s hospital bed. He placed a heavy, but comforting, hand on her shoulder. She knew he was just doing his job, but that didn’t make his reason for coming burn any less. It seemed like everyone wanted to know how Seth was doing for their own selfish reasons, not because they truly cared about him. 

“If there’s anything at all either of you need …” 

“Thanks.” Hunter patted her shoulder and finally made his exit. Taking a deep breath, she tried calming her nerves and focusing her attention back on her comatose fiancé, but she was successful in only one of her quests. “Did you get all that?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “I know on one hand he’s right—they do deserve to know. But it’s also none of their business and they should respect our privacy. I don’t know what to do.” She searched Seth’s worry-free face. “So you have to come back to me, okay?” The tears were forming once more. “I can’t do this on my own.” She collapsed into sobs, body wracked with shudders as she gasped and sucked in oxygen between wails. “I can’t do it, Seth.” 

Seth 

“I can’t do it, Seth.”

Seth’s brows furrowed and, although he knew he was alone, he turned to inspect the living area of the hotel room. No one stood behind him, especially not his fiancée, whose voice he swore he’d just heard. Shrugging, he returned his attention to the mirror and finished knotting the black tie at his neck. Finishing that, he smoothed the rest of his tuxedo over his fit body, smiling proudly at his reflection, the gap between his two top front teeth on full display. He was finally marrying Violet Lockhart, the absolute love of his life, the most beautiful woman in the world. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky, but he was eternally grateful to whomever may have had a hand in their courtship.

The locking mechanism on the door beeped and turned, and Seth watched as Roman, Mox, and Hunter entered the room, all speaking at the same time, each of them somehow understanding the other two. Seth chuckled, brushing his hair, then attempting to twist it into its normal bun while three grown men punched him playfully in the stomach, ribbing him like children about how his life was over since he was getting married. The Architect’s eyes narrowed, unable to ignore how much these guys actually were acting like kids, and when the hell had he asked Triple H to be a groomsman? He didn’t necessarily remember asking any of them, but at least Roman and Mox made some sense—Hunter was his boss, and the two weren’t particularly close.

The door beeped again, and Seth’s mahogany eyes switched to the entrance as Chelsea Green, one of Violet’s closest friends and maid of honor, seemingly floated over the threshold in a gown of gorgeous malachite. 

“It’s time,” she sang, gently clapping her hands together. 

Following her, Seth checked the inner pocket of his suit jacket for the rings, finding them tucked safely away, and he considered handing them to Roman or Mox, as he’d been instructed to do, but at the last moment, left them where they were. He was suddenly petrified of losing them. Chelsea glanced at him over her shoulder, smiling warmly, and she threw open a pair of floor-to-ceiling doors to reveal a magnificent church. Seth’s brows again knitted together, and he looked over his own shoulder to see exactly where he’d just come from, but the doors closed, and somehow he knew they wouldn’t open again. They weren’t supposed to get married in a church—it’s not what Violet wanted. As his eyes searched the various religious statues and stained glass windows, he dug through his brain files for where they had decided to tie the knot, but he couldn’t find it. The church wasn’t right, though he had no idea what was. 

“Wait,” he said, “are you sure—” 

“You stand up there,” Chelsea instructed, smile still sparkling, gesturing to the altar. “She’s on her way.”

Seth nodded. “Yeah, but—”

Chelsea drifted away, and Seth’s stomach knotted, an icy grip of foreboding squeezing his heart, making it difficult to breathe, causing his brain to throb. His legs carried him to the altar without his consent, locking him in place, and he was frozen to the floor as guests made their way inside and to their seats. Everyone moved in sync—their steps, turning into the correct pews, staring at him. An air of unease blanketed the church, and Seth gulped.

“You good?” Roman asked, standing beside him.

Seth shook his head. “Something’s wrong,” he said. 

“Nah,” Roman smiled, placing a huge, heavy arm around Seth’s shoulders. “Everything’s alright.”

Seth followed Roman’s pointed finger to the doors he’d come through moments before, smile slowly splitting his lips. Violet now stood there, her bronze hair curled and hanging past her shoulders, makeup pristine, and her gown was—Seth’s growing smile began to fall—black. It hugged her curves, fanning out at her legs, a long train dragging behind her as she approached. The cathedral veil she wore was also black, and Seth racked his brain again for a memory of his fiancée mentioning wanting a black wedding dress, but he came up empty-handed. 

“We’re gathered here today—”

A holy man appeared without warning beside Seth, and then Violet was standing in front of him, and he was positive something strange was happening. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Everything seemed right, but were terribly wrong. Was he dead? Had he fallen into an alternate universe? But his fiancée was indescribably gorgeous, and he was finally marrying her after everything they’d been through—everything he’d put her through—and if things were a little off, then so be it. Whose wedding day was actually perfect? 

“I love you,” Violet whispered, gazing up at him as if he held the answer to life itself. 

“I love you, too,” Seth replied, squeezing her hands. 

“If there’s anyone present who believes these two should not be wed, please speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Neither Seth nor Violet expected an answer from their guests, maintaining eye contact with one another, their hands exchanging squeezes. 

“I object.”

Violet’s mismatching eyes rounded, Seth feeling his do the same, and all the air left his lungs in a rush. The church was eerily quiet—no coughing, shuffling, children crying, or family members sobbing. He knew the voice that had spoken up, and he was sure Violet didn’t, though she certainly knew why the woman had interrupted. Seth licked his lips, chewing on the bottom one a moment before he slowly turned to look at the woman as she stood from her pew in the middle of the others. Seth swallowed again, instantly recognizing one of the women he’d cheated on Violet with, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him expectantly. 

“Seth,” Violet muttered. 

“It’s okay,” Seth said. He turned back to his soon-to-be-wife to find tears and mascara dripping down her otherwise immaculate face. “Honey—” 

“I object.”

Seth’s head whipped back to the guests to find another woman standing, another one of his flings. And then another. And another. And another. “No,” he mumbled. “This isn’t … This can’t be real.” 

“Did you fuck all these girls?” Mox asked, and who the fuck was he to judge Seth’s mistakes? 

“No!” Seth snapped. “I mean … yeah, I did, but I didn’t—” 

“And you invited all of them?” Roman asked. 

“No!” Seth yelled, glaring over his shoulder at the Samoan, who had a hand over his laughing mouth. “Fuck you, Reigns.” 

“I wouldn’t be worried about me, brother,” Roman said, pointing.

Seth followed his finger, his own ocher eyes widening at the new scene before him. Violet, the woman who’d saved his life, in the gigantic arms of his boss, Hunter. Her body quivered, and her cries echoed off the intricate decorations and statues. Hunter’s eyes slid to Seth and the comforting smirk behind his beard was laced with lethality, and he winked at the younger man. 

“No, no, no,” Seth breathed, hands clutching his suddenly pounding head. “Something’s wrong.”

Violet’s arms dropped from around Hunter’s neck, her body seeming to move on autopilot as she turned to face Seth. Her eyes were vacant, utterly devoid of life and love and happiness and excitement—dead. “Something is wrong, Seth,” she deadpanned. “And it’s your fault.” 

“What else is new?” Hunter chucked. 

“Seth did something wrong? I’m shocked,” Roman chimed in. 

“Hey, Seth,” Mox hollered. “Are you done with this girl? Thought I might try her out.”

Seth shook his head, trying to block everyone and everything out of his mind. “I have to be dreaming,” he said to himself. “That’s all. Just a dream.” 

“No, Seth,” Violet said. “We had dreams.” More tears, but her tears were black now, sludge, thick. “You turned them into nightmares.” 

“How do I wake up?” Seth squeaked, slapping his head, pinching his cheeks. “I have to wake up.”

Violet grabbed his face, clutching his now sore cheeks, and she was beautiful again—makeup was pristine, tears dried, complexion free of the ooze from before. But the dread in her eyes was overwhelming, and Seth collapsed to his ruined knees under the weight of it, her hands never relinquishing their grip. “You’re not waking up, Seth. You’re gonna be here forever.”

Seth blinked. His surroundings melted, disappeared, rebuilt. When his eyes opened again, he was standing in front of the hotel mirror, tying his tie. The lock on the door clicked and beeped, and Roman, Mox, and Hunter entered. Seth’s heart stopped. 

“No.”

TAGLIST: @southerngirl41 @femdisa @riverina69 @rollinssection @paramedicnerd004 @mandmilovehim @brianochka @yourmommyagone22 @sweetmoonlove0214 @partypoison00 @missbmc94 @lils2795 @aureliacorvina @magicalbuttertarts @madimcg14 @thealliasylum @lov3rla03 @plaidpajamallama @princesstiti14 @deansimpala @princessesareforsuckers

[pshbites]

﹒⌗﹒❕﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 1k followers

hai pshbites nation!! i can’t believe i hit 1k followers.. i really didn’t think i would stay on blr this long but im so glad i have :) ! first thank you to my followers and readers, without your constant support and feedback i don’t think i would’ve been that motivated to post my works. im so glad that you guys like my works and interact with me <3 through every reblog, like, and comment my motivation to post only grows and im so glad to have that support. literally would not be here without u pshbites nation 🥹🥹, so thank u for all the love and support!!!

it’s about to get a lil bit sappy so…

to nunubear : i think we sorta grew closer after #that friend group but im glad we did bc we discovered we both write LOL… and started bonding through that. i feel like we’ve been through a lot together and icb #NunuNana is entering 3 years 🥹🥹🥹.. wow like this is oomflationship realness. but thank u for listening to me rant about blr or even just being there to talk to me 🫶 love u bad habibti @haedgaf @lqfiles

to classic man : you two are my best friends in the whole wide world. i think we’ve grown so close to the point where our families even know each other and that to me is real bonding.. trust.. REAL FRIENDSHIP 😭💔. i love u guys down but u know that because every ft call we end with love you and goodnight. i also wanna thank u guys for supporting me because if both of u hadn’t said i should continue with this i think i would’ve deactivated a long time ago. you already know i trust your judgment more than anyone else’s so i wanna say thank u for everything @wavetokgv @ronniee-26 also i can’t wait to celebrate tonight BYOF (bring ur own fic) it’s celebration time 😭😭 and pls don’t go on their accs they’re bots….

to neoz : sav, liz both of you have become people in my life i talk to everyday and thats a new feat for me. liz, i dont know anything other than saying thank you 😕. you listen to me rant about everything under the sun and im so glad to have found someone who understands me so deeply, i hold so much love for u like an older sister would and im glad we have that connection. @cupidhoons sav, i know we’ve only started getting closer these past couple weeks but i feel so happy when i get to talk to u, you make my day with whatever you say and i also hold love for u just as an older sister would 🩷. i love when you tell me about your day to day life and i just love talking to you in general so thank you 🫂 @ourhees i wanna thank both of you for always supporting me and beta reading some of my fics, i love both of u so so much and i can’t wait for us to spend so much more time together!

to my close moots : if i were to personalize this i think i would be saying the same thing over and over so, thank you all for supporting me and talking to me. in my conversations i have with each of you i genuinely enjoy talking to you all and im glad that ive had the chance to meet you guys 🥹, truly thank u and i love u guys @leeechin @kiss4noo @suneng @coqhee @geutori @kairoot

and once again thank you pshbites nation we #Love you and without your support i think i would’ve given up so thank for reading my mediocre writing and tuning into my works WE LOVE U PSHBITES NATION!!!!!! 💔😭😭😭😭😭

[cool-fancier]

Whispers Between Us

An Yujin x Female Reader

Synopsis: During a heartfelt visit, unspoken tensions between you and Yujin ignite into something deeper, turning fleeting moments into an unforgettable, slow-burning love story.

Word Count:3.2K

The cool air clung to your skin as you approached the dorm building, the city lights casting a faint glow on the streets below. You clutched your phone in your hand, rereading Gaeul's text for what felt like the tenth time.

"Come over tonight! The girls miss you, and honestly, so do I. It's been too long. We need some bonding time!

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Gaeul had always been your biggest cheerleader, your confidante, and your best friend wrapped into one. Being only a year younger, the two of you had grown up inseparable, sharing everything from childhood secrets to late-night talks about dreams and fears. Now, with her thriving as a member of IVE, you cherished every opportunity to spend time with her and her friends.

But tonight, there was something else lingering in the back of your mind—someone else. Yujin.

The memories of your quiet, intense fling with Yujin played in your mind like a film reel, each scene more vivid than the last. It wasn't something either of you planned; it just happened. A connection that neither of you could ignore, no matter how much you tried to convince yourselves otherwise.

The door swung open before you could knock, and Gaeul's beaming face greeted you. "Finally!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "I was starting to think you got lost."

"You know I wouldn't miss this," you said, squeezing her back. "Besides, you'd hunt me down if I didn't show up."

"Damn right I would," she laughed, tugging you inside. "The girls are super excited to see you. It's been forever since your last visit."

The moment you stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the dorm wrapped around you. Wonyoung was stretched out on the couch, lazily flipping through TV channels, while Rei and Liz were huddled together, arguing over the rules of a card game. Leeseo was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her phone in hand, scrolling through social media.

"Unnie!" Wonyoung called out, her face lighting up as she jumped to her feet and rushed over to hug you. "You're finally here!"

"Finally," Rei echoed, smiling as she set her cards down. "Gaeul's been talking about you nonstop."

"It's been too quiet without Gaeul's sister around," Liz teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at their welcome, but your eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where Yujin stood leaning casually against the wall. Her gaze met yours, and in that instant, the air between you seemed to hum with unspoken tension. She didn't rush over like the others, but her small, knowing smile sent a shiver down your spine.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice cutting through the noise like a thread pulling you closer.

"Hey," you replied, your pulse quickening.

— — — — —

It all started on one of your earlier visits to the dorm. Gaeul had invited you over to celebrate a milestone in the group's journey, and the night had been filled with laughter, food, and music. You remembered feeling a bit out of place at first, watching the girls interact with such ease, their bond palpable. But Gaeul made sure you were included in every joke, every story.

That night, you had stepped out onto the small balcony to get some fresh air, the city lights twinkling below like scattered stars. You leaned on the railing, letting the cool breeze wash over you, enjoying the quiet escape from the lively chatter inside.

"You okay?" a voice had asked, breaking the silence.

You turned to find Yujin standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the warm light from inside. She stepped out, joining you at the railing, her shoulder brushing against yours. The casual contact sent a small thrill through you, though you quickly pushed the feeling aside.

"Yeah, just needed a breather," you said, offering her a small smile. "It's a little overwhelming, but in a good way."

She nodded, her gaze drifting out over the cityscape. "I get that. Sometimes, it's nice to just...be still."

The two of you stood there in silence for a while, the sounds of the city below filling the quiet. It was a comfortable silence, one that didn't need to be filled with words. But eventually, Yujin spoke again, her voice softer, more introspective.

"You know," she began, "it's rare to find someone who doesn't expect anything from you. Someone who just...lets you be."

You glanced at her, noticing the way her brows knitted together, as if she were wrestling with thoughts she wasn't used to sharing. "I guess we all need that sometimes," you said gently. "Someone who sees us for who we are, not what we can do for them."

Yujin turned to face you then, her eyes searching yours. "Yeah," she murmured, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips. "It's nice. Being around you feels like that."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. And before either of you could second-guess it, you leaned in, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. It wasn't planned or rehearsed; it was spontaneous and real, a quiet confession shared under the stars.

When you pulled back, her eyes were wide, filled with uncertainty and something else—something that mirrored your own feelings.

"I..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to—"

"I know," you said, cutting her off gently. "But I'm glad you did."

That moment was the beginning of something neither of you could define. It wasn't a relationship, but it wasn't just a passing fancy either. It was something more, something that lingered in the stolen glances and secret smiles you shared whenever you visited the dorm.

— — — — —

Back in the present, the living room was alive with laughter as the group dove into a game of charades. Gaeul was your partner, and her over-the-top miming had you laughing so hard, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"Come on!" Gaeul groaned, flailing her arms as she tried to convey octopus. "You're supposed to be good at this!"

"You look more like a flailing chicken," you teased, wiping your eyes as you guessed correctly at the last second.

The room erupted in laughter, and Gaeul threw herself onto the couch in mock defeat. "I can't believe you got that."

But even amidst the fun, you were hyper-aware of Yujin's presence. She was watching you from across the room, her eyes soft but intense, as if she could see right through the façade of the game to the emotions you were trying to keep hidden.

"Truth or dare?" Wonyoung called out, shifting the game to a more playful and dangerous territory.

When it was Yujin's turn, she glanced at you, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Dare."

Wonyoung grinned, leaning forward. "I dare you to tell us about your first kiss."

The room erupted into cheers and teasing, but Yujin kept her gaze on you, her smile turning softer, more intimate. "It was...unexpected," she said slowly. "But it felt right. Like everything else disappeared for a moment."

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the glass of water in your hands.

— — — — —

The tension between you and Yujin had been simmering all night, and when you slipped away to the kitchen for a moment alone, you weren't surprised when she followed.

Her hands were on your waist before you could turn, her body pressing gently against yours, grounding you in the present.

"I've been waiting for this," she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"You're playing a dangerous game," you murmured, though you didn't move away.

"Maybe I like the danger," she countered, turning you in her arms to face her. Her eyes searched yours, filled with longing and something deeper.

Her lips captured yours in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was a release, a culmination of every stolen moment, every unspoken word. Her hands slid under your shirt, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as the world outside the kitchen faded into insignificance.

"Yujin," you gasped, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead resting against hers.

"We can't keep pretending this doesn't matter," she said, her voice trembling. "Not anymore."

"I know," you whispered, your hands tightening around her.

— — — — —

The laughter from the living room faded into the background as you stood in the dimly lit kitchen, Yujin's hands resting lightly on your waist. The warmth of her touch seeped through your clothes, grounding you in the moment. Her eyes, dark and filled with unspoken longing, held yours, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world didn't exist.

"We can't do this here," you whispered, though the breathlessness in your voice betrayed the conflict within you.

Yujin's lips curled into a soft, teasing smile, her thumb brushing gentle circles against your hip. "I know," she murmured, her voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. "But I couldn't stay away."

Her words wrapped around your heart, tugging at the very core of your resolve. The tension between you had been simmering for months, unspoken but palpable in every glance, every accidental touch. And now, here you were, on the precipice of giving in.

You leaned in slightly, the space between you diminishing until her breath mingled with yours. The air grew thick, charged with anticipation. Before you could think better of it, Yujin's lips brushed against yours in a tentative kiss, a soft press that quickly deepened. Her hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every second.

The sound of muffled laughter from the living room was a distant hum, barely registering over the pounding of your heart. Yujin's fingers slid up your back, tracing the curve of your spine through the thin fabric of your shirt. Every touch sent sparks skittering across your skin, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing second.

"We'll have more time later," Yujin whispered against your lips, her voice trembling with restrained desire.

You nodded, breathless, reluctantly pulling away. "We should go back before they notice."

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, filled with a promise that sent your pulse racing. With one final glance, you both stepped back into the living room, trying to mask the heat that still simmered between you.

— — — — —

Gaeul greeted you with a wide grin as you rejoined the group. "There you are! We thought you got lost."

"Just needed some water," you said, settling back down beside her. "What's next?"

"Codenames," Rei announced, holding up the box with a triumphant grin. "Let's see who the real spymaster is."

The group quickly divided into teams, the energy in the room shifting as everyone focused on the game. Gaeul was beside you, her competitive spirit coming alive as she strategized her next move. Wonyoung's exaggerated guesses had everyone in fits of laughter, while Liz's dramatic clues left the room in suspense.

But even amidst the chaos, you couldn't help but feel Yujin's gaze on you. Every so often, your eyes would meet, and the world around you would blur, the tension crackling between you like a silent current. Her subtle smiles, the way her fingers tapped against her knee, as if itching to reach for you, kept your heart pounding.

"Gotcha!" Gaeul shouted, breaking your reverie as she pointed triumphantly at the board. "We win!"

"Luck," Rei groaned, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Pure luck."

"Skill," Gaeul corrected, winking at you. "Right, sis?"

You laughed, nodding. "Definitely skill."

As the game wound down, the energy in the room shifted, growing more subdued as the night stretched on. One by one, the girls began excusing themselves, retreating to their rooms.

"I'm exhausted," Wonyoung yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm heading to bed."

"Me too," Liz added, nudging Rei. "Goodnight, everyone."

"Night," you and Gaeul called out in unison, watching as they disappeared down the hall.

Soon, it was just you, Gaeul, and Yujin left in the living room. The atmosphere was quieter now, the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen the only sound filling the space.

"I think I'll head to bed too," Yujin said softly, standing from her seat. Her eyes met yours for a brief moment, a silent promise lingering between you. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you replied, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

— — — — —

As Yujin disappeared down the hall, the dorm fell into a deeper silence. You leaned back against the couch, exhaling slowly, the weight of the night pressing against you. Gaeul shifted beside you, her gaze steady and knowing.

"You think you're being sneaky, don't you?" she teased, her voice light but filled with amusement.

You turned to her, eyebrows raised in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

She chuckled softly, nudging you with her shoulder. "I've known about you and Yujin for a while now."

Your heart skipped a beat. "You... you knew?"

Gaeul nodded, her smile turning softer, more affectionate. "Yeah, it wasn't that hard to figure out."

"But how?" you asked, still processing her words, your mind racing to all the moments you thought you'd been discreet.

"There was this one night," Gaeul began, settling in comfortably, "when Yujin and I had a little to drink. Just enough to get her talking. She's pretty weak to alcohol, you know."

You nodded, listening intently.

"She started talking about someone she had feelings for. She didn't say your name at first, but she kept going on about how this person made her feel like she could be herself, like she didn't have to be perfect all the time." Gaeul's eyes twinkled with the memory. "And then, without realizing it, she said your name."

You sat up straighter, shocked. "She did?"

Gaeul grinned. "Yeah, she didn't even notice. But I did. And from then on, I started watching. You guys weren't as subtle as you thought. I even caught you making out in the kitchen once."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Gaeul!"

She laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "It was gross but in a cute way. Honestly, I just want you to be happy."

A warmth spread through your chest at her words. "Thanks, Gaeul."

She smiled, leaning her head on your shoulder.

— — — — —

Once the dorm had quieted down, you found yourself standing outside Yujin's door, your heart thudding in your chest. The anticipation of being alone with her again filled you with both excitement and nervous energy. You knocked softly, and Yujin opened the door almost immediately, her eyes softening as she took you in.

"Hey," she said, her voice quiet and inviting.

"Hey," you replied, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from a small lamp casting warm shadows on the walls. It felt cozy, intimate—a world away from the bustling dorm outside.

Yujin closed the door behind you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Instead, she reached out, her fingers intertwining with yours as she guided you to sit on the bed. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the weight of everything unsaid but understood.

"What are we doing?" she asked softly, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. "I don't know," you admitted, squeezing her hand gently. "But I know I don't want to stop."

Yujin's smile widened, her eyes glistening with something unspoken. "Me neither," she whispered, leaning in slightly, her forehead resting against yours.

Before either of you could say more, the door burst open with a loud bang, and Gaeul marched in, grinning from ear to ear. She threw herself onto the bed between you two with all the dramatic flair of a little sister who knew exactly what she was doing.

"What are we talking about?" Gaeul asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she wiggled her way between you and Yujin, making herself comfortable.

"Gaeul!" you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-exasperated, as she sprawled out across the bed, pulling the blanket over herself.

"What?" she said innocently, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm curious."

Yujin chuckled, shaking her head, clearly amused. "We were just talking," she said, glancing at you with a knowing smile.

"Mm-hmm," Gaeul hummed, snuggling deeper into the blanket. "Sure, sure. But seriously, I'm glad you guys found each other. It's cute. Gross, but cute."

Before you could respond, the door opened again, and Wonyoung peeked in, her eyes lighting up when she saw the three of you. "Ooh, a secret meeting? Without me?" she pouted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

Rei followed close behind, raising an eyebrow. "What's going on in here?"

Liz and Leeseo appeared right after, each carrying their own blankets and pillows, grinning as they entered the room.

"Sleepover in Yujin's room!" Liz announced, dropping her pillow onto the floor and flopping down.

"I knew something was up," Leeseo said, setting her blanket down and joining Liz. "You guys can't hide anything from us."

You exchanged a glance with Yujin, who looked equally surprised and amused by the sudden invasion.

"This wasn't exactly planned," Yujin said, but there was no trace of annoyance in her voice. Instead, she smiled, scooting over to make room for the others.

"It is now," Wonyoung declared, climbing onto the bed next to Gaeul. "There's no way we're missing out on the fun."

Rei grabbed a spot on the floor, leaning back against the wall with a satisfied grin. "This is perfect. We haven't done a proper sleepover in ages."

Gaeul turned to you, her expression smug. "See? It's not just me who thinks you two are cute. Now, let's make this an official sleepover."

You couldn't help but laugh as the room filled with chatter and the sound of blankets being spread out. Yujin leaned in close to you, her voice low enough for only you to hear. "Well, so much for being alone."

You smiled, squeezing her hand. "This isn't so bad."

Yujin's eyes softened, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "It's perfect."

As the night wore on, the room became a cozy nest of warmth and laughter. Gaeul told embarrassing stories from your childhood, Wonyoung shared funny anecdotes from their tour, and Rei attempted to start a pillow fight that quickly devolved into chaos.

You leaned against Yujin, her arm draped around your shoulders, feeling the weight of the day melt away. It wasn't the private moment you had imagined, but it was something even better—being surrounded by love, laughter, and the people who mattered most.

And as the early hours of the morning crept in, you realized that these moments, chaotic and unexpected, were the ones you would treasure the most. Together, with Yujin and your newfound family, everything felt right.

The future could wait. For now, this was enough.

[testiculartorsionlover]

My opinion on proxy bots like pluralkit

i wanna preface this by saying that no matter how you feel about using pk, it's up to you to use it if you're comfortable with it, i dont intend to attack anyone at all, this is just my experiences. im just giving my 2¢ here.

i used to use pluralkit, i used proxy bots ever since SystemTime was a thing. it definitely had some good uses for me, as i mostly used proxies to see who was fronting and used it to see who was saying what, it was also useful for journaling purposes.

at the same time, it was difficult to navigate. with my dissociative issues and amnesia it took months to be able to fully navigate these bots. not only that but it worsened my dissociative issues tenfold as i felt pressured into trying to see who was fronting at all times, it just made my blurriness worse and my parts feel more separated. not to mention the pressure i lowkey felt when it came to using pluralkit in servers? it felt like i *had* to use it, it sucked.

ngl it was fun decorating my pluralkit, in the last 2 years i used to use it i mostly just used it for decor and organization purposes but rarely did my parts proxy (and as the "host" i never really proxied anyway, even when i used to use it more often)

do i still use proxy bots? rarely, i try to avoid it but some of my parts moved onto octocon, i assume for journaling. octocon isn't really much better but i like the privacy- like with pluralkit if you just got someones user id youd be able to find someones pluralkit but with octocon i dont think you can do that really. and everything is auto privated too. commands are private as well, it's great. but it breaks sometimes in discord channels.

id rate systemtime and pluralkit a 4/10, and octocon a 6/10.

i deleted my pluralkit a long time ago, ive been going back and forth about deleting it for the past 2 years tbh. if i ever use it again it might be for roleplay purposes.

oh, and pluralkit was made by an endo anyways, which makes me dislike it much more.

either way these are just my opinions, let me know how you guys use pluralkit and other proxy bots

[marymunchkiin]

just wanna say TYSM to my lovely moots for sticking w me until now--ik ive been inactive from the SW/TCW fandom for a very long time because of consecutive PTSD situations that happened irl that destroyed me so bad that i had to withdraw my online presence...but I'm slowly settling back in again thanks to Star Wars Celebration. I appreciate all the content yall share, whether we have spoken on DMs or not. I hope yall know I love u sm , and that I think youre an awesome human being. plz take my hugs and kisses babes <33

[lonesomenecromancer]

havent posted anything isat related in a while. have this

[umblrspectrum]

happy solvermas

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[abitofboth]

GOD HELLO YES I’M SORRY IVE ONLY JUST SEEN THIS BUT ABSOLUTELY!!!!

I've started to see more welsh!owen popping up in the fandon recently which is making me SO happy!! it's one of my favourite headcannons for him and honestly, at this point, it's cannon in my eyes lmao

it started for me because I'm welsh myself and I hit all my favourite characters with my welshification beam, but aside from that, one glaring reasoning is his name actually! the origins of 'owen' come from the welsh name 'owain' (pronounced oh-wine) which is a pretty common welsh name.

there's a very famous man in welsh history called owain glyndŵr (oh-wine glind-ooh-er) who was the last native welsh person to hold the title the prince of wales, and he was born in 1359 so it's been a pretty long fuckin time since someone welsh has been on the throne (not that I support the monarchy, but it's worth noting because there's a lot of history between the welsh and the english with a lot of animosity between the two nations). all of this to say, owain glyndŵr led a 15 year long revolt to end english rule in wales, which I think is interesting to think about the comparisons of owen going against the world's leading governments with his work with chimera post-fall, even if the contexts are wildly different lmao. (glyndŵr did a lot of other very interesting things in welsh history which is definitely worth a read about)

I also really love the idea that owen was born in and grew up in wales, then later moved to london when he was a young adult. the thought that once he crossed over the border, he was saying goodbye to his old self and signing his life away to the british government and fully stepping into the world of spies. combined with him then going on to dedicate his life to chimera's cause, it's kind of heartbreaking to play with the idea that once he left wales his life was never really ever his own. he just became weapons for other people.

I also have the hc that he taught himself his RP accent. not so much any more, but back in the day many english people looked down on the welsh (look up the 'welsh not' for example) and I feel like owen would have this fear that his welsh accent would hold him back. he worked with/for the most powerful people in the world, he rubbed shoulders with the british government, he wanted to be respected, he wanted to be in a position of influence within the agency: he was not going to get that if he didn't sound like a rich english man. he had to fake his existence in high society and the easiest way was to force the accent out of himself. I like the idea of him involuntarily slipping back into it when his guard is aaaaaaall the way down (namely, when he feels safe with curt. :') )

speaking of, I LOVE the idea of him throwing in welsh words and phrases every now and then. I don't think he'd be fluent, but definitely knows enough to hold conversations with family etc. he absolutely calls curt 'cariad' (love/darling). 'del' is another cute one that can mean pretty/sweetheart that I think he would like using- “ti’n iawn, del?” would mean "you alright, sweetheart?" which HELLO!! is such an owen phrase to me

I also have a separate owen hc that his favourite book is the hobbit, and tolkien was pretty heavily inspired by wales when writing those books!!

and one last thing because I realise I'm word vomiting here: the welsh word 'hiraeth'. there's no direct english translation for this word, but it's essentially the feeling of a deep longing for something, especially for one's home. I think owen's entire being is stained with this feeling. a grief filled homesickness- whether in the context of his actual home, or the home he finds within curt, he goes kind of mad with it. it's even more heartbreaking to think of this feeling immediately after he fell and was left alone with no home to speak of. owies!!

I've sprinkled welsh owen into a few fics I've written in the past and I love seeing it pop up in other people's fics (one I remember and love was written by @considerablecolors with such a lovely subtle detail of owen's first crush being a boy called gethin) and it's just a hc that I really hold near and dear!! I've probably missed things out that I'd love to talk about but this is very much just a stream of whatever came spewing out first. I'd LOVE to read other people's thoughts and headcannons if anyone is willing to share!! <3

owen carvour my welsh king