#janai writes

[starryeyedjanai]

Ooo, outlaw Eddie?

thanks for the ask! 💕💕

He lays there for a few minutes, trying not to let the disappointment sink in. He’s contemplating getting up and facing this dreary day when he hears the sink running in the kitchen. His heartbeat picks up because his farmhands don't ever let themselves into his house without knocking, so it has to be him. It has to be Eddie. He stayed.

read parts 1 and 2 here

[mikibwrites]

The Price is Right

inspired by @theweewooshow 's post about a kissing booth :) Happy Valentines Day everyone!

bucktommy | 1.4k | G | ao3

This is ridiculous. He’s officially lost his marbles. 

Tommy’s been in this line for at least fifteen minutes, and every third minute of that has been spent telling himself he should leave. The other 2 minutes of each spiraling cycle have been spent eavesdropping his fellow hopefuls in line, listening to their tittering about how hot the firefighter working this shift of the booth is, surreptitiously cataloguing every person that he can see in front of and behind him and evaluating them on what–little, sadly–he knows about Evan’s preferences and whether or not their dreams of bagging a date with him will come true. Which then, in turn, sends him back into spiraling and berating himself for being among them, given his history with said firefighter. 

He needs to leave. 

There are roughly ten people in front of him, and Evan definitely hasn’t spotted him yet. He could totally duck out and no one would be the wiser. He contemplates pulling his phone out of his pocket with an air of importance, putting the completely silent device to his ear and pretending something dire has just happened that requires his immediate attention. No one would question him for getting out of line, no one would suspect that he’d lost his nerve. They’d think, wow, he must be important to be needed somewhere so urgently. 

Tommy’s definitely, officially for real this time, lost his marbles. 

Also, there are now only seven people left in front of him. 

As he watches each person get their sweet little peck on the cheek, he tries to tell himself this is for a good cause. The money goes to charity. There’s nothing weird about giving to charity. Nothing at all. There’s also nothing stopping him from just dropping the money in the basket on a table near the door that’s designated for just plain donations. He doesn’t need to get anything out of it if that’s all he’s hoping to do. 

He’s definitely hoping to get something out of it. He can at least admit that to himself, if nothing else. 

Five people left. 

“Oh my god, he’s so hot,” Tommy hears from behind him. “Look at those arms. Hold me down, daddy.” He almost chokes, the girl’s voice clearly pitched for just her friend next to her to hear, but he’s apparently blessed with supersonic hearing. The friend chimes in as well. “I wonder if he’s actually a good kisser or if he’s one of those dudes who relies on his rizz alone and then can’t deliver when it counts.”

Tommy has no idea what ‘rizz’ is, but he has to physically stop himself from turning around and describing for this girl in detail just how good of a kisser Evan is, how well he can deliver. He’s sure that wouldn’t go over well. 

Two people left. Evan is being so gracious and attentive to each of his patrons that he still hasn’t noticed Tommy. He could still make a run for it. 

He’s not going to. 

There’s roughly enough time for one more cycle of spiraling before he makes it in front of Evan, but Tommy chooses to spend it going over what the hell he’s going to say. Surely, Evan may protest giving his ex a kiss, even if it’s for charity, given the way they ended. It’d be well within his right to do so. So Tommy needs to have some justifications ready just in case Evan gets the wrong idea here. 

And what is the idea? Tommy failed to decide before he attempted this ridiculous stunt. Honestly, he’s been so, so god damned touch starved since he walked out Evan’s door that he thinks he’d do anything for just a brush of fingertips from Evan at this point. And that’s it, really…he only wants it from Evan. His coworkers have told him multiple times that he needs to just go out and get his ex out of his system–Donato offered to wingperson for him, even–but the very idea turns his stomach. 

But did he actually think that throwing some money at charity at a kissing booth of all things was going to get them anywhere near a reconciliation? Jesus, he should have just texted. Not that he hasn’t tried that, many many many times, and all of them ended up deleted because regardless of what he likes to tell himself he does not have the courage to put himself out there without the reassurance–or despair–of seeing Evan’s actual expression when he says what he wants to say. 

Which is…what? Exactly? He still hasn’t deci–

“Tommy?”

Shit. He’s missed the last person in front of him getting their dutiful peck on the cheek, and now he’s run out of time. 

Evan’s voice as he says his name is full of awe, trepidation, and…dare he say it…hope? His expression is even more devastating: like he’s seeing the sunrise just beginning after a century spent underground. His narrowed eyes are earnest and a little guarded, but they are trained wholly on Tommy.

Shit….what was he going to say?

“Uh, yeah. Hi. I, um…well I. Uh.” Tommy runs his fingers over his hair roughly, feeling unbearably stupid and exposed. He should have run when he had the chance. “Look, Evan, I–”

Evan’s breath hitches audibly at the sound of his name. They’re staring at each other. 

“Shit or get off the pot, dude, we’re all paying customers!” Some guy further back in line is shouting. 

“Um. Did you want a kiss?” Evan says, his face turning pinker by the second. And this. This Tommy can definitely answer.

“Yes,” he says, with maybe a little too much conviction behind the word for their current circumstances. Evan seems to clock it immediately, his eyes flicking down to Tommy’s mouth before coming back up to his eyes, his expression morphing to hopeful disbelief. “But, I mean, you don’t have to, here, I know you probably weren’t expecting–”

Tommy’s words are cut off by Evan’s mouth sealing onto his. 

God, god, he’s missed these lips. Each slide is like a revelation, and the thought is not lost on him that they’re in the middle of what is essentially a work function, they are both in uniform for christ's sake, having a whole existential crisis shared along with their breath and space and saliva. Because yes, Evan has now bullied his insanely talented tongue right behind Tommy’s teeth and is exploring like he’s going to be asked to draw a map later. 

Evan kisses him long, hard, and thorough, endless seconds ticking by and Tommy definitely doesn’t listen to any of the complaining going on in the line behind him. Evan does, though, and he very reluctantly pulls his lips away from Tommy’s and blinks in the most adorably flustered way and Tommy’s so, so gone on this man. How did he ever walk away from this?

“Can we talk?” Evan asks breathlessly.

“Please. But maybe later. Your adoring public awaits,” he adds, gesturing with his thumb to the line behind him, still nearly thirty people strong. He can’t blame them, but he’s also feeling a tad possessive so he leans in one more time to press his lips to the apple of Evan’s cheek, causing the blush to intensify when he pulls away. 

Tommy begins to turn to walk away, his smile already making his cheeks sore when Evan clears his throat. He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t pay, you know.” He’s smirking, the little shit. 

Before Tommy can make a move, someone in line shouts, “Damn! How much does it cost to get that?”

“That is not for sale,” Evan states with finality, but he’s still looking at Tommy, lips pursing, trying to hold back a full blown grin. There are a few groans from the line. 

Tommy reaches into his wallet, pulls out a $100, and slaps it on the table in front of Evan. “What time does your shift end?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Meet me at the cafe two blocks down. Bring those lips. We’ll talk.” Tommy congratulates himself on being smooth as he smirks right back at the look on Evan’s face. 

“Mmm, okay. I’ll bring these lips. But I hope you remember they’re good for more than just talking,” Evan adds as Tommy turns to walk away. 

He retracts his self-congratulations as he trips over his own feet. 

[starryeyedjanai]

My WIP filenames:

outlaw eddie part 3

rear-view au (steve/tommy/carol)

steddie5+1

he's something of a kiss and tell

Snippet:

He looks at them for a moment, on the couch, not paying attention to anyone but each other. He thinks the three of them are like that when they're together - no one else is even on their radar when the three of them are together. Is that normal? Is it normal to be so wrapped up in two people that you don't even register other people in the room? He thinks this is a scene that’s played out for as long as he’s known them. The three of them at a party ignoring everyone around them to talk to each other. Steve, absorbed in them, watching them together, talking to them, not paying attention to anyone but the two of them. Blowing off other people to hang out with his two favorite people. Ditching girls to be with them, even just to hang out and do nothing together. He’ll drop whatever he’s doing just to be near them. He realizes that it doesn't matter who he’s with or what he’s doing, if Tommy and Carol call for him, it’s been proven a dozen times over that he’s going to go to them.

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!

friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike @obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @sleepymccoy @eriquin @sosobriquet @qprstobin @spacebarrette @andavs @zainclaw @anonymousdandelion @flameraven @fractalgeometry / Requests @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @not-orpheus @1attheedge @preetsramblings

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

I've been working on this fic on and off since I saw season 7 and at last I got it finished!! The idea has been haunting me since I saw the finale... what if Callum actually completed the spell that trapped Aaravos in the coin?

“The second it’s done, he’ll kill me. You won’t have anywhere to go. No ‘vessel’ to control. You’ll be trapped again… forever. That’s the destiny I choose. The one I write for myself!”

Callum squeezed his eyes shut, and when they opened, they locked on Rayla. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away, not wanting to miss an instant of seeing his face. Not wanting a single second where he couldn’t see the plea in her gaze.

“I would have stayed with you forever.” His voice was a whisper now, only for her. “I would have spent thousands of peaceful days with you, and it would have been the greatest joy I could ask for.” He drew a shuddering breath and managed a smile. “But this way, you’ll still get thousands of peaceful days. And that makes me happy enough. I love you, Rayla. Be brave.”

“Callum!”

Her scream was drowned out by the sound of his voice as it rose with the words to the spell. A purple beam poured from the staff in his hands, and as soon as it touched Aaravos, he began to dissolve. Wisps of green melted from his body, stretching his form, pulling him apart until he was nothing but smoke.

As the last of Aaravos was absorbed into the coin, there was another bust of light— but not from Callum. In a streak of energy in every color of the rainbow, Ezran appeared on Zym’s back, a blade in his hand.

That blade, Rayla thought wildly, it looks like—

“Ezran?”

Rayla’s eyes snapped to Callum just in time to see him fall to his knees, the black in his eyes receding— only to be replaced a second later by searing white.

“Runaan,” Callum gasped as the white faded again. “Do it— do it now—" He doubled over, convulsing in time to the flickers of light in his eyes.

Panic seized Rayla, forcing her half out of her saddle with absolutely no plan for what to do after she fell. Could she throw her own body in the path of Runaan’s arrow? Could she help Callum fight the possession back?

“Runaan, please,” Callum wheezed.

Runaan’s eyes flicked from Callum to Rayla before coming to rest on Ezran. A tear fell from his eye.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Callum, his voice breaking. “I can’t.” And then, in a tone so quiet Rayla almost wondered if she imagined it: “Not again.”

Callum let out a piercing yell that distorted halfway through, deepening into Aaravos’s cry of triumph as light beamed from his eyes once more. Callum— Aaravos— laughed with enough unbridled, malicious delight that it took him two tries to get to his feet and grab Viren’s staff.

“Oh, this is too good! I thought your soft heart was all your own, Rayla, but it turns out it’s a family trait!” All at once, the glee dropped from his face. “Your parents would have done well to raise you better. In this world, all a soft heart is good for is getting you killed.”

He moved the staff so quickly that Rayla didn’t realize he was drawing a rune until its blast was speeding towards her. She leapt on instinct, pain shooting up her ankles as her feet made contact with the ground. It was nothing compared to the ache in her chest when she turned around. Her mount hadn’t been as lucky as she was.

Runaan sent an arrow shooting at Aaravos’s shoulder, but he dodged neatly, drawing one of Stella’s portals in the air with his staff and leaping through it. It deposited him directly in front of Rayla, who barely dodged the stream of fire he conjured. Pressing a hand to her singed hair, she rolled to her feet and whirled around to face him.

“You’re stronger than him, Callum, I know you are!” she cried. “Fight him off! Please!”

Aaravos laughed, bolts of lightning splitting from his staff. “Foolish child. Your beloved was warned of the consequences of performing my magic again.” A fork of electricity struck Rayla’s leg, and she fell to the ground with a scream. “He! Is! Mine!”

“Callum, come back to me!” Rayla barely recognized her voice, the words high and fractured. “You said you’d do anything for me!”

Aaravos inclined his head. “Did he? How sweet. You know, I can’t feel any stirrings of his will inside me at all. What do you think— should we give him some proper motivation? Venus frigoris!”

Cold, burning cold, blinding, agonizing cold. Rayla’s spine convulsed, her body contorting as a scream ripped from her throat. Other screams reached her ears, Ezran, and Runaan, but they were so far away—

The relief came all at once, her muscles relaxing, the cold fleeing, and she collapsed into sobs.

“Hmmm… no. I still can’t feel any resistance from him. Do you believe me now, assassin?”

Last time, Callum had screamed for her, had run for her, had held her face while her blood froze and taken on Finnegrin with nothing but his bare hands to make it stop. Now he stood over her with his lips curled in amusement.

There was nothing left of Callum anymore. He would never have hurt her if he had any power to stop it.

Assassin. Aaravos had formed the word carefully, mockery infused into every syllable. He would never expect her to go through with it. She could take him by surprise. She could end this.

She would never be able to live with herself. But the world would live on.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut, curling her hands around her blades behind her back.

“My heart for Xadia,” she whispered.

Aaravos inclined his head. “You’ll have to speak up if you want your final words to be remembered. Go on; I’m listening.”

Rayla flicked open her blades— and the tip of a sword appeared in Aaravos’s chest.

In Callum’s chest.

The white light in his eyes receded, leaving the beautiful green Rayla loved so well. They locked on hers for a second before fluttering closed as he dropped to the ground, sliding free of the sword to reveal Ezran with his hands on its hilt.

There was an eternity within a second in which everyone stood frozen. Rayla, paralyzed on the ground. Callum, dead at her feet. Ezran, a horror in his eyes that defied description or comprehension.

Then the blade fell from his hands, clattering against the stone, and the world woke up.

“I’m sorry.” The words were almost unintelligible through Ezran’s sobs as he fell to his knees. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry— I’m so— I’m sorry, I’m so—"

At last, Rayla managed a single breath, one that rattled in her broken chest, and managed a single, hoarse word. “Why?”

Ezran raised his ravaged face to hers. “Rayla, I’m sorry, I’m so—“

“Why didn’t you let me do it? I was going to do it. He’s your brother, and I’m—"

“You’re not a killer, Rayla.”

The words lacked the hysteria of his apologies. But Rayla had never imagined hearing that kind of absolute despair in the voice of a child.

“Neither are you!”

“No. But I am a king. And my first duty is to my people.” Finally, his voice broke again. “All but one.”

Rayla took his hot, soaked face in one hand and Callum’s stiff, cool hand in the other. She pulled both of them close, holding the three of them together one last time, even as they shattered.

…

“I’m going to kill you!” Callum roared.

He lunged for Aaravos, who was too stunned by his sudden movement to dodge his punch in time. Callum drove another fist into his jaw, and another, before Aaravos recovered enough to kick him in the stomach, sending him sprawling backwards. Callum drew a breath, then another, heedless of the pain, and forced himself back to his feet—

Only to find himself paralyzed, mid-lunge.

“That is enough, human.”

Callum screamed through his locked teeth as a head appeared in the stars above him— one whose nose was roughly the size of Callum’s whole body, and who glowed so brightly that it hurt to look at him.

What the…?

Frozen as he was, Callum was able to take in his surroundings for the first time. Both he and Aaravos stood on a transparent platform that floated in an endless night sky.

The head in front of him disappeared, and another appeared to his left. “You have accomplished many impossible feats,” she told him. “But even you cannot kill one who is already dead.”

Aaravos scoffed. “You can’t kill me. No one can. I will merely return to the stars, where I will bide my time for a paltry seven years.”

“No, Aaravos.” That came from a head on Callum’s right. “Had you been fatally wounded in a vessel, you would merely have returned to your true form. Had your true form been pierced by the fangs of an archdragon or the blade the humans call Nova, you would have returned to the stars. But you were mortally wounded by the Novablade in a mortal form. As such, you have forfeited your immortality.”

For the first time, Callum saw true fear in Aaravos’s eyes.

“No— no! That is not possible!”

“It does not matter whether or not you believe it,” the first head who had spoken told him. “You will know the truth of it soon enough.”

“But we are prepared to offer a compromise.” This came from the head to Callum’s left. “We will return you to the stars, if you return your key.”

“Key?”

Callum hadn’t realized he was able to move again until the word fell from his lips.

“Indeed, human. A key to all the magical secrets of the Startouch elves. It was given to Aaravos for safekeeping, long ago, but he has hidden it from us for millennia.”

“With good reason.” Aaravos locked eyes with Callum, his terror replaced by an equally unimaginable expression: pleading. “They call themselves dealers of cosmic justice, but they are little more than tyrants. They killed my daughter— a little girl with only the best of intentions— for giving magic to humans. The order they want to protect would leave your race powerless! If they have access to the knowledge they seek, the whole world will feel the consequences!”

“That is our offer, Aaravos,” the first head said, his voice emotionless. “Give us the key and return to the stars. Or keep it, and be erased along with it.”

“He doesn’t have it. As I do.”

As one, the full attention of the heads turned to Callum. It was… disconcerting.

Callum pulled the Key of Aaravos from his belt and held it out to them.

“That does not belong with you,” a head that had not yet spoken said sharply. “Return it to us, human.”

“I want the same deal you offered to Aaravos. I’ll give it to you if you return me to life.”

From beside Callum, Aaravos actually growled. “Are you really so selfish, mage? Would you allow these despots to strip you of everything just to buy yourself a few more years?”

“Not for me. For Rayla.” Callum closed her eyes, but her devastated face remained. Her screams still rang in his ears. “She’s lost enough. I won’t let her lose me too. I won’t let her suffer any more.”

“You fool!”

Callum opened his eyes again, looking past Aaravos and up to the heads once more. “Do we have a deal?”

They were silent, seeming to have some kind of mental debate. Then the first head spoke.

“We accept your terms. Give us the key, and we will return you to life.”

“But do not think you can escape cosmic justice,” said the head on his right. “You have not bought yourself a life. Merely extra time.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Callum tried to sound respectful, contrite. Inside, he burned. Whatever time he’d borrowed would be enough— he’d make it so. After all, as one of the judges herself had said, he’d done many impossible things. What was one more?

He released the key, and it floated up to the head above him, where it disappeared into light.

“It is done,” the head announced. “You will be returned to your mortal form. And you—” he turned to Aaravos— “will be reunited with your daughter at last.”

Aaravos rose into the air as if yanked by invisible strings, writing all the while. “You have no idea what you’ve done!” he screamed at Callum. “No idea what I’ve sacrificed to save you from this future! You have doomed—“

But he didn’t get to finish before he burst into light.

When the searing glow receded, the stars and the heads and Aaravos were all gone. In their place was the most beautiful face Callum had ever laid eyes on, even as it was swollen and tearstained in a way that drove spikes of pain through his chest.

“Rayla,” he rasped.

The word was almost inaudible by the time he pushed it past the emotion choking his throat, but her eyes still snapped to his.

“Callum!” she shrieked, throwing herself at him with enough force to send him sprawling back against the ground. He could only manage a wheeze as he hugged her back, and she pulled away quickly.

“Your wound— did I make it worse? How are you even— you got stabbed— you were dead—"

“Yeah. I know. Luckily, even the cosmic judges couldn’t resist my charms.”

Ezran appeared beside Rayla, his eyes as red as his tunic. “You talked them into letting you come back?”

“More or less.” Callum’s fingers brushed the pouch in his belt where he had kept the Key of Aaravos, now decidedly empty. “Turns out I still had a bargaining chip they wanted.”

“What…?” Rayla started, but Callum shook his head.

“I’ll explain later.”

“Callum…” Twin tears squeezed their way out of Ezran’s swollen eyes. “I’m sorry— I’m so sorry—"

“Hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Callum reached out, wiping the tears from his brother’s cheeks. “You did the right thing. I’m so proud of you.”

Ezran managed a wet laugh. “That’s so messed up.”

“Yeah, well, so are we.” Callum reached for Rayla’s hand with his free one, and she entwined her fingers with his. “But you know what else we are? Still here. We’re here, and Aaravos isn’t.”

“We saw a shooting star,” Rayla rasped. “Janai said it crashed in the Midnight Desert. Does that mean… is Aaravos…”

“Aaravos isn’t a threat anymore. Not now, not ever. Apparently, the Novablade was enough to kill him if he was bound to a mortal form.” Callum glanced at Ezran. “You see what I mean? You did it!”

Ezran wiped his eyes with shaking hands and managed a small laugh. “We did it. The three of us.”

“Oh, not this again. I know I spent part of our first trip as an egg, but I still counted. And who do you think flew Ezran here in time to kill Callum? The four of us made a difference. Actually, the six of us, since Bait and Stella deserve just as much credit—"

Callum leapt into Rayla’s lap and Ezran ducked behind them, all three of them whirling to face Zym. He stared back at them, perfectly straight-faced.

“Zym,” Ezran said slowly, “did you just…”

“Talk? Yeah. I figured it out a while ago, but I was just… waiting for the right moment. Was that not it?”

“Since you were bragging about how you helped kill me, I’m going to go with no,” Callum said drily.

“Come on, Callum.” Rayla dropped a kiss on his head, then beamed at Zym. “There’s no time like the present.”

“All right, all right.” Callum held out an arm to Zym. “Come here, you.”

Somewhere among the stars was an all-powerful, immortal race of elves with the knowledge they needed to force their will upon all of humanity. Somewhere in the future was a day when Callum would face the end of the time he’d borrowed. Somewhere beyond this tower were cities that needed to rebuilt, bodies that needed to be buried, alliances that needed to be made.

But there was no time like the present. And right here, right now, was the last of the dragonguard and the king of Katolis, the prince of the dragons and the first human primal mage, all clustered together in a knot of limbs and tears and laughter, holding each other together with their love.

And it was all they needed to make a difference, come what may.

[rattanwhip]

miasma

[catcherwrites]

TDP Colour Association Survey

I wanted to try something a little wild and wacky with all of you. Below is a survey of different TDP characters - asking what colour you most associate with them:

I’d really appreciate it if you filled it out! I’d super DUPER appreciate it if you shared it with others to boost the sample size. When I have enough responses I want to be able to post the results here for everyone.

Just some things to mention first:

This is completely anonymous - I won’t have access to any personal information. All I’ll get on my end are the answers you’ve chosen

This is completely voluntary - I can’t force you to take this survey, you are free to skip any questions you don’t feel like answering

There is no guaranteed outcome - I really want to post the findings, but that depends on the number of participants I get in the end. I also can’t compensate you for your time with anything other than a thank you

With that out of the way, thank you for reading my spiel. If you’re interested in helping, fill out the survey and/or spread it around (reblog, share, etc) so others can respond!

[astra0014]

What if when Amaya destroyed the breech, instead of getting stuck on the Xadian side, Janai got stuck on the human side.

[aviradasa]

My 'the dragon prince' Masterlist

Check out my main masterlist here

Requests are open

Aaravos

Love long lost

Love long lost pt 2

Love long lost pt 3

Love long lost pt 4

The sight of two stars

Aaravos introducing you to leola

Aaravos getting ready to propose with leolas help

Leolas first human partner, how do you and aaravos react

Leola and stepmom!reader sync up

Mom and leola day!

Callum

Rayla

Claudia

Viren

Soren

Janai

Amaya

Nyx

Ibis

Corvus

Gren

Terry

If you would like to request a character to be put on the masterlist let me know

[bleach-is-yummy]

Okay was it just me or was the wedding between Amaya & Janai done really badly.

Firstly, I just like to say I’m not deaf but over the last couple years I’ve been trying to learn ASL, through college courses and personal research, as I think it’s a really important language for a lot of people to learn. I haven’t been the greatest at it but I’ve been learning more and more steadily as well as learning a lot about the culture through both my deaf professors and some firsthand experiences from other deaf people. 

Having said this watching Amaya and Janai’s wedding this season had me absolutely stunned by how terribly they did my girl Amaya. Don’t get me wrong Ive hardcore shipped both of them since they’ve met but the accessibly of that wedding was just awful. It was so bad I had to go back to Amayas Wikipedia page to make sure I didn’t misunderstand and she was just mute as it would have been impossible for her to have understood anything that was evening said throughout that entire wedding.

No one was signing to her! At first I thought maybe Gren was in her line of sight signing from the background, but then we saw him step out from behind her meaning no one was signing or interpreting for her that entire time! That’s not even to mention that her wife, the person that she is going to swear herself to didn’t even bother to sign her vows meaning that she had to lipread the entire time! I have learned from firsthand accounts that lip reading is an incredibly inconvenient and inaccurate way to have a conversation with people who cannot hear! For God sake, her own interpreter didn’t even sign his speech!! he even had to read out her speech to her wife meaning not only does Janai not speak sign language the primary language her wife uses, but also cannot read it for the most part as well.

Now I probably cannot sign or understand sign that much better than Janai can but then again I am not marrying someone who is deaf! Why did the show runners not have her at least get a rudimentary grasp on the language her wife speaks. If it was an issue with the audience understanding what was being said then why didn’t she just sign along with her speech? I’m am in absolute awe because they usually handled Amaya’s deafness really well but for this wedding it was handled so poorly. She was even facing away from most of the people that were talking making it impossible for her to have gleaned any amount of information from anyone. She had people talking in front of her and she had people talking to her while their mouths were covered or while they were looking down. 

I don’t know if I’m blowing this out of proportion or misunderstanding things, but I feel like this wedding could’ve been done so much better if they made it accessible for both parties involved. To me it didn’t feel romantic. It felt like something they put in because the audience wanted these two to get married. It wasn’t something that I was awing at despite shipping these two for so long I really wanted this wedding to be something great and beautiful but the whole time I was just yelling at the screen because how could this be romantic for Amaya, she probably couldn’t even make out most of the things being said. No steps were taken to make this feel like an accessible wedding and it just ruins that whole scene for me. 

[starryeyedjanai]

actually just kidding I also want some "outlaw eddie part 3" for WIP Wednesday ;)

i did make you write for your bangfic and the haunting of harrington house, so it's only fair :)

He gets out of the warmth of his bed and walks through his open bedroom door and into the living area. He sees Eddie’s boots are still perched next to his own at the front door. He’s never felt the kind of emotion that washes over him when he sees that. He’s never had someone stay like this before. Eddie’s eyes snap up as he walks into the kitchen, his hand dropping from his mouth, like he was biting his nails before Steve walked in. The nervousness seems to melt a little, thaws as Eddie looks at him. He smirks a little and says, “How are you still so devastating so early in the morning?”

read parts one and two here

[raayllum]

me looking at the ships i invented and holding them So Gently in my hands: sorpeli... claudiez... corterry... my beautiful children. you've made me a proud papa

[irlkomaedanagito]

gjsjfjsjfjs dear lord. i feel like a fundamental part of the Awful Parent Experience(TM) is other adult figures in your life (who are either spineless or well-meaning but ignorant+naive) saying things like that to you over and over. sounds like your fics were spot on representation.

on god they Better have been spot on representation because i was writing it while i was still like, actively being abused by my mom and dealing with my spineless enabler dad. so it really did suck to see that kind of shit in the comments, especially since the ending was going to be that the MC wouldn't live with them anymore

[saeki-rina]

The Importance of Interpretation

Reading a few Reddit threads reminded me of my thoughts on the writing of characters, events, and worldbuilding in TDP.

My main question: were some elements of the story intentionally designed to be flawed in order to tell us something about reality, or were they simply mistakes by the creators that we, the fans, read into something deeper?

A few examples, I hope I can explain well what I mean:

Ghosting in Moonshadow Elves's culture

As the author of this thread notes:

ghosting has significant logical flaws that can result in a threat to the community (if the ghosted person can return to the village, as Rayla did, then they can, for example, cause damage there, even under the influence of strong emotions related to exclusion or even revenge).

And now - is the functioning of this spell supposed to show us that in real life in various cultures there are permanently functioning customs/mechanisms that the community should really question instead of maintain? Or at least modify?

Or was the ghosting ritual invented for the purposes of the plot, without really delving into its operation any further than was necessary for the episode?

Janai and Karim

Was the prolonged decision-making about Karim meant to show us how difficult it is to pass judgment on a family member, even when it's clear he shows no signs of reforming and poses a real threat?

Or did the screenwriters simply fail to notice that the attitude they proposed for Janai might be perceived as somewhat inconsistent with her established characterization or even illogical, considering the circumstances?

Rayla tricks Callum

This is just one of the things the author of this thread mentions:

Is the fact that Rayla, instead of talking to Callum and finding some other solution, breaks into his office and steals the keys, and he doesn't immediately see it as a problem, a way to show that in relationships, we can sometimes, for various reasons, not notice the behavior of the other person that should make us wonder?

Or is it simply a questionable solution by the writers regarding this scene and it doesn't have a deeper message, because the characters somehow don't attach much importance to these events later?

Lujanne

Is the fact that Lujanne doesn't seem to have a problem at all (doesn't react to it in any way) with Claudia and Soren's appearance on the Cursed Caldera supposed to show that even people in positions of responsibility can fail to do their duty, let their guard down, or ignore a potential problem?

Or is it simply a ploy along the lines of "Since Lujanne took in the kids, she had no problem with their friends either, even if she's supposed to protect this place from people - let alone black magicians - so there's really no reason for her to even address the appearance of more people. Because they won't do anything bad, since they're friends of the kids."

Runaan

Does Runaan's accusation in In-Between of trying to kill Rayla show how much we can convince ourselves, under the influence of regret, guilt, and trauma, that we really wanted something?

Or is it simply an inaccuracy in the context of the creators' declaration that he would ultimately hesitate and not do it (i.e. despite such a declaration, he does not really want to take Rayla's life)?

These are just a few examples, but I hope they are enough to illustrate what I mean.

I really wonder about the issue of interpretation in the context of storytelling. Maybe this is what the most determines the fact that when it comes to solutions like the ones above some viewers praise TDP very much, while others complain about the writers' decisions?

(Of course, you can do both, but you know what I mean ;)

Any thoughts are welcome! I would be grateful for your point of view.

[themistdragon]

Fellow TDP Enjoyers: A Fanfic Pitch

College AU

Ezran and Callum live with Amaya and Janai (married) after the deaths of their parents

Callum is a Studio Arts and Chemistry double major (smart lad)

Ezran is in high school

Rayla met and dated Callum in high school, but they broke up after Rayla moved away :(

Callum walks into art class, where they are doing full body charcoal drawings of a live model

Said live model turns out to be Rayla

Rayla goes to the same college as Callum (she does fencing and gymnastics)

Callum and Rayla meet for lunch and study dates

Callum goes to Rayla's gymnastics practices and competitions

Callum gets to draw her in class (and eventually outside of it too)

They rekindle their love :)

Thoughts??

[stobinesque]

another prompt: stomarol + shiver

I opened my notifications for a minute and barely read this prompt before the first bit of it was writing itself in my head, so take your stomarol filth, janai! i may or may not expand on this at some future point.

I have lots of prompts whose fics won't need to exist below a cut, but this is not one of them!

prompt: 'shiver' | wc: 250 | tags: Stomarol, oral sex, face-fucking, light manhandling

"Bet I'm better at eating pussy than you, Stevie." 

Steve cocked an eyebrow Tommy's way. "Why do you think that?"

"I've been doing it longer."

"And I've done it with more girls!"

They both turned to look at Carol, who regarded them with barely concealed amusement.

"What? And I'm supposed to be the judge of that?”

"Fuck, Tommy," Carol moaned. Her bare chest rose and fell with each gasping breath, and Steve's gaze was fixated on the swell of her breasts. "Steve— move him a little higher."

Steve used the hand he had tangled in Tommy’s hair to tilt his head up at Carol's request. "Y'know, I feel like this is cheating?"

"D-don't care. Fuck, right there!"

"You want his fingers now?"

Carol puffed out a small breath and shook her head. "You didn't use yours— wouldn't be fair." 

"Oh yeah, now you care about fairness." Steve rolled his eyes. "I just think you wanna get a couple good orgasms out of us."

Carol snorted. "if I wanted to get good orgasms I'd use my own h-han—ohhhh, fuck." Shivers traveled the length of her body, and her hips bucked up against Tommy's face uncontrollably.

Steve wasn't going to let Tommy up for air until he'd brought Carol over the edge, so he shot back a comeback on his behalf. "You were saying?"

"Oh, sh-shut up, Harrington."

"Make me, Perkins."

"Gimme a minute and I will."

"So, verdict?"

"Nuh-uh, if I pick, neither of you are gonna do that again."

I’m celebrating 250 followers! Send in a pairing and a (one word) prompt for a drabble!

[dragonprince-imagines]

Can you do a Jania x reader x Amaya that’s it thats the request

God I wish that were me.

It can make one a little insecure, being in a relationship with a pair of Amazonian warrior noblewomen. Luckily you don’t get many chances to feel that way, being as they’re both the affectionate type and very adept at reading people. Sometimes to the point of annoyance.

Janai enjoys spoiling her lovers at the end of the day by cozying up and chatting about anything and everything. It’s so nice to get a break from bureaucracy and discuss the weather for once. And when the year grows cold and her heated body is sandwiched between you two? Please. In the summertime, you and Amaya will just have to endure. Exiling a queen from her bed comes with severe consequences: an overly hot cuddlemonkey-hug that cannot be broken free from.

Amaya has a mischievous streak and likes to play around with the both of you. When she comes to visit Janai with you and spots her talking with the Six Horns, she shifts so you can’t read her hands and quickly signs something that has Janai choking on air. Or when you’re dealing with matters of state, she quickly gets your attention and signs what she really thinks of this try-hard diplomat under the guise of professionalism. It’s a challenge to keep a straight face and whichever one of you breaks first will be teased until the end of time.