#maybe this is my specialty because i've been good at doing it all my life

[hexesandroses]

I'm honored that you thought of me 🥹

*pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns * *pi

[brucewaynehater101]

In your opinion how would have affected the family if Bruce hadn't return as soon maybe Tim didn't find the picture and Bruce come back by himself 2 or five years laters. Dick made such a huge impact in Damian's life in the short time they were together. How different would have been if they had spend more time together and how would the others come around. Dick wanted to adopt Damian in canon but never did it because Bruce came back and he was afraid of taking that role. Would he adopt him and would that change how Damian sees Jason and Tim? and the same for them. Do they see him as his brother or like his brother's son? Also, how would Bruce react to all of this changes. Would Dick return to bludhaven and if he did would he take Damian with him. Also, what changes would there be between Tim, Jason and Dick relationship in this scenario.

Dick would have definitely adopted Damian and good for them.

How Jason and Tim would treat Damian depends on what their relationship was like before Bruce died. If someone works off of the "Jason and Damian met in the League" idea, then they probably would still be brothers regardless of what their respective relationships are with Dick. Sometimes, family isn't always clear cut to have labels make sense. I personally consider my stepsiblings to be more like cousins than siblings.

Tim and Damian probably wouldn't see each other as family for a while. I've seen a few fics that address how their tension and fights lead to them not considering each other as brothers until they become closer. Laws don't dictate relationship statuses. Effort and communication do. After Damian gets Robin, Tim probably distanced himself from the family. If he doesn't find the portrait, he probably still moves out of the house and keeps low contact with the other Bats. Maybe he joins Cass for a bit. Maybe he takes over WE. I like to think that he either claims a section of the city like Jason does, or he does specialty cases (like rogues, serial killers, rings, etc.) instead of patrolling with the Bats.

Dick is overwhelmed with being Batman and with being Damian's parent. He'd eventually get the hang of things and then start to reach out to the other Bats again. It would take time, but they would probably get there.

Maybe Tim and Jason start getting along, or maybe Tim even takes Jason up on that offer to join him. Either that, or they mutually avoid/ignore each other unless they have to interact.

Now, Bruce in canon wouldn't have lasted too much longer in the timestream. However, in this AU, maybe he's just chilling on a beach in time, or maybe he just gets shot two years into the future.

When Bruce returns, that fucks up the established dynamics and the peace the family was slowly moving to. Dealer's choice on how Bruce reacts. If he's a good dad, he'll understand and try to navigate the new relationships. Bruce and Dick would share parenting. If he's a shit dad, he'd go nuclear and fuck Dick up.

If you want me to expand or anything, let me know!

[prettypynklemonade]

Torn (part 4)

by PrettyPynkLemonade

Part 1 💖 Part 2 💖 Part 3 💖

Author's note at the bottom

Proofread by @trippinsorrows

cw/tw: military, parental loss, sexual references, aging, health issues, angst, strong language, character growth, ptsd, trauma (let me know if I've missed anything)

word count: 1.5k

May 23rd,2018

“Mama, I told you I would get the mail from the post office today, the doctor told you to stop driving 4 months ago.” Adora chided her mother. She’d left the army with the rest of the 110th and was adjusting to being back in the real world and helping her mom the best that she was allowed to.

“Child, I have been driving for longer than you’ve been alive. And better if I do say so myself” Her mother, Justine, shot back. Justine James was not someone to second guess or mess with. She retired from the army as a Command Seargent Major and she absolutely commanded attention wherever she went. Yes, her age was catching up with her, but she was just as lively as ever.

“Mama,” Adora sighed, exasperated “I know you’ve been driving since the dinosaurs roamed the Earth, but with 2 cataracts in both eyes and glaucoma, you won’t be driving for much longer if you cause an accident.”

“Okay! You know, you are just as aggressive as your father was, with a smartass mouth to boot. Always bossing people around and being a know-it-all.” Here she goes again, Adora thought. Only ever bringing up her father when she was being irritated was her mom’s specialty, probably because mentioning the good moments only brought tears.

Adora’s father, Frederick James passed away when she was a child. He was a military man himself and was killed in action. She didn’t remember much about him, but she knew her mom was devastated when he passed. They lived on base and her mom got an immediate transfer to another base as soon as the funeral was over. They were the only family they had, and she knew her mom only meant it in jest, but she wished she had been able to know the highly decorated man more than she had the opportunity to.

“You know, I wouldn’t even have to drive that car if you were home more often instead of spending all your time with that Ken Doll.” Her mom concluded with a knowing smirk.

Adora couldn’t lie, she hadn’t been at home much. Since she left the army, she and Reacher had entered into a semi-relationship. Honestly most of their time was spent between the sheets of the master bed in her actual house that Reacher was currently living in. To be fair she wasn’t certain that he actually had a home. They weren’t doing much talking outside of the moans they shared while fucking. It had been all this pent-up sexual tension that he hadn’t let either of them work out until they were dismissed from their duties.

She tried to steer the conversation away from her situationship, not allowing her mom to distract her “Look mama, I’m only trying to help. If you would let me hire someone to care for you-”

“Stop that right there, I am not on my deathbed. I may be old and getting blinder by the day, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself. This is my house! I won’t be inviting any strangers into it! If I need help, I’ll call you or use this stupid LIFE Alert thing you make me wear.” Justine finished resolutely.

And Adora knew she meant business. She let the conversation die, trying not to rile her mother up any more than she already was. She fixed them some food and enjoyed dinner while they watched The Bachelor and critiqued the contestants.

She lost track of time, just enjoying being around her mom. While the 110th was her chosen family, her mom was the only family she had. Maybe she was a little overbearing, but she needed her mom in her life. She was her hero. The one person that was a constant. Adora had grown up on base after base. Spanning 5 of the 7 Continents and she was used to change. She just hoped nothing ever changed between her and her mom.

“Alright mama, I’m gonna head home. Remember that I’m just a call away. And you better call me.” Adora said with a laugh.

“Okay baby, I love you. Get home safe.”

“I love you too mama.”

----------------------------------------------------

On the way home Adora thought of the man who had been sleeping in her bed, when they weren’t sleeping together. She always knew that Reacher wasn’t the type of man who could be kept, and she was comfortable with that. But lately he’d been getting more affectionate, and she wasn’t sure what to do about that. She wanted more, of course, but she was always aware that more wasn’t on the table. No matter what her heart said.

As she pulled into the driveway of the exquisite home the Army had afforded her, she saw Reacher standing in the doorway. Her heart was immediately aflutter. He had a way of looking at her that made her knees weak and panties wet. But she made up her mind. He wasn’t getting his hands on her before they discussed what this was.

Reacher walked up the car as Adora turned it off and opened the door for the stunning woman in front of him. Adora thanked him while avoiding the kiss he tried to place on her lips, allowing him to kiss her cheek instead. “Have you eaten?” she asked, avoiding the hurt look in his eye, as this was the first time she had ever rejected his kiss. “I ordered Thai while you were out, I figured you would be eating with Justine and didn’t want you to feel obligated to cook for me.” He said matter-of-factly. He was nothing if not thoughtful.

As he held the door to her home open for her, she avoided his gaze. Adora walked straight into her living room as Reacher followed behind her and as she sat on the couch where he joined her, she said the words no man ever wants to hear

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Us.”

“Okay?”

“What are we doing Reacher? No one word responses, no logical answers, what are we? Period. Because you look at me like I hung the moon, but I don’t think you’ve ever had a long-term relationship with anyone. I don’t want this to be just a couple of months of us hooking up and then you decide it’s over, and then I don’t get an explanation outside of this just being who you are and what you want. I deserve more than whatever is that we’ve been doing.” She rambled nervously. She couldn’t look at him while she spoke, knowing that whatever his answer was, her heart was on her sleeve like a tattoo.

“Oh. Well. I assumed you were my partner. You would be correct in guessing that I haven’t had a long-term relationship in the past, but you’re not my past. In fact, I’d like you to be my future.” He continued “I know I may not show my emotions easily and I keep my responses short, but I feel different with you. Good different. And I don’t ever want that to stop. Not when we’ve just begun.”

Adora looked into Reacher’s crystal blue eyes for the first time since she entered her home and knew he meant every word he said. Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest, in the best way possible.

“Okay.” She said with a relieved sigh.

“Okay?” He repeated.

“Yeah.” She smiled.

“Now who’s the one with one-word responses?” He teased, trying to break the tension even more, knowing it must have taken a lot for her to bring this up to him. He’d noticed her becoming slightly distant a few days before, but he wasn’t a man of emotion, he was one of action. He knew it would only be so long before she aired out her grievances to him. If she hadn’t done it tonight, then he would have had to bring it up himself and that just seemed…revolting. But he’d do it for her. He’d do anything for her.

“I just have one request,” Adora replied “If I give you my heart, you have to give me yours too. If there are any issues, we can handle them together. I’m falling in love with you Reacher, and I don’t love lightly.” She was only slightly lying with that response, as she had known she was in love with him the night of the bonfire. She had the photo framed of that night on her mantelpiece and she knew that if he loved her back, that her heart was safe. Because Reacher took care of his own. And right now, she felt like every part of her being belonged to him.

“You have my heart Adora. I’m falling in love with you too.”

And as they sat on the couch realizing their genuine love for each other, in the back of her mind, all she could think was that she had been wrong before. This right here? This moment was the beginning of the rest of her life.

Author's Note:

Thank you for your patience, while I worked on getting this one out. There should only be 1 more part after this, but it may be a while before I have time to get it posted. Please ask me any questions you have. Be honest, be respectful, and have fun 💖

Tag list: @trippinsorrows @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @proceduralpassion @wwecrazed2010 @beas-mind @hotsauceeater @reacherfan @reignsboy19 @shitt-imfinished @jayjayem1999 @yana3sworld @dumbasswhorebug @partypoison00 @prettyvampofsorrows

[desolationlesbian]

For the past year I've been working in an extremely narrow specialty because that happened to be what they had for me to do on this little fellowship contract. but I (finally! finally!) got a real permanent job (with healthcare and everything!) and in all likelihood it is because. it is in the exact same narrow specialty and quite honestly there's maybe like a dozen people in the entire state who know how to do this so of course they wanted me. and I needed a real job and health insurance desperately so of course I took it.

And listen I do not dislike this specialty. it's decent work and I am good at it. it is simply not what I pictured doing for the rest of my life. but now it is going to be the primary thing on my resume for the foreseeable future. and I fear this is how you hear about some guy who never set out to be the expert in some minuscule ridiculous field like crocodile astrophysics or something, but he just landed in it and kept doing it, and now he's known by everyone as The Crocodile Astrophysics Guy, y'know? and I don't think I wanna be that guy. I fear I may have to take very affirmative future steps to diversify my skill-set. or maybe this is what happens to everyone when you get old and start to have a "career." you just accidentally land in your own personal crocodile astrophysics.

[celestiall0tus]

So I got an anon ask of which au I'm writing right now. I had considered making this post on that ask, but out of respect to that anon and allow myself to ramble more, I'm making a separate post.

This past year has been one hell of a fucking wild ride. Mentally and emotionally. Having been out of a job until September, it was a struggle to maintain myself. I had pushed and pushed myself to build a platform at a faster rate, thinking that would help me. I abandoned what I knew was my audience to pander to those that likely wouldn't stay. All to prove a point I had proven long ago, but was blind to it. Because of that, I tunnel visioned into spending all my time working, not giving myself a real chance to rest. That is until now.

Those that remotely believe or whatever know I'm a witch. My specialty is tarot readings, divination, those sort of things. Well, at the start of the year, I had done a yearly reading that did tell me I'd be over investing in work (which I thought meant at the place I had worked at) and everything has been pretty on point. That left a scary ish one for November: the devil upright. A card that seems sinister but tells of exploring the shadow self to free yourself of limitations among other things. This card was paired recently with a dream of a spider, which among those many meanings, also resembles the shadow self. In that dream, the spider was frantic and spazzing out. How I've been this entire year. And it's not until recently I figured it out.

I thought something was stopping me from writing what I wanted. I thought I was still pandering. But what it actually is, is what all the other readings had pointed out. A lack of balance. This entire year, I put work above all else. I didn't really allow myself time to rest. That is until now.

There will be a significant drop in content this month. I will be taking the month to rest and just enjoy life. There will be doodles here and there, maybe a story, but with a focus on what I want to do at the time. I'm also taking this time to allow my hand the proper rest it needs as I still have an inflamed vein in that hand and need to let it rest. But I will also be diversifying.

Miraculous will still be the top dog around here. The potential there is just beautiful. However, I will have more. I will dive into Steven Universe once I got a good starting point outside of Rejuvenation. Some Pokemon bits here and there mostly just because I finished the DLC. And, dare I say it, maybe even some Sonic. I will be working on the Day of the Fall comics a little less while my hand rests, but they are still coming. I'm too in love with Celeste's story not to, plus the other shit I have planned too.

I do have a little something else planned as a fun something, to fill the meantime, but more on that in a separate post. Anyway, this has been long, but y'all need to know. And because there's no reason for me to hide this. Yes, it's been a long year. Yes, it's been hard. And there's no shame in that. Nor is there in resting.

This has been a L0tus rambles. Have a lovely day.

[claradrawsstuff]

get to know your moots

thank you @loubetcha

what’s the origin of your blog title? it's pretty self-explanatory, but some lore ig: my social tag used to be claretta.darksky (my name and my warriors cat oc) and i changed it mostly for professionalism. My personal account for non-art things was clarahitsstuff, so now my art handle is claradrawsstuff

otp(s) + shipname(s): maybe its the ace in me but i've never been a huge shipper (i love a good ship im just never thinking about them lol). If I had to pick one it'd probably be msr just because the canon leaves them open to so much interpretation (I love normal msr but am also a huge fan of qpr msr or ace interpretations). Those kind of -beyond-romantic-feelings ships are my fav (soulmates but not necessarily romantic in every universe ykyk)

favorite color: red, but like... spotlight red. alternatively, neon orange

favorite game: galaga but im not good at it. baldur's gate 3 is special to me bc it's really the first online game i've played. Scrabble if you start making up rules. Dnd counts too kind of

song stuck in your head: Seek and Destroy by I Fight Dragons is on my mind more often than not. Currently also I've got The Melancholy Architecture of Storms by Remy Le Boeuf and Armageddon by Wayne Shorter floating around up there, too.

weirdest habit/trait? i don't know that i'm conscience of all of them lol. I have to lock cars and doors 2 or 4 times (specifically not 3) or i worry about them. I'm fairly vocal stim-y. I blush really harder when I'm talking about media i really like.

hobbies: DND! If I could breathe it, I would. I like analyzing media and leaving long reviews. Art (duh), music! I love to write but I've gotten away from it (I rp more often now bc its easier with my time commitments)

if you work, what’s your profession? i work as a stagehand at my college's concert hall! We get to set up audio and visuals for school events but also help load in/out touring shows (this year we're doing dance teams, a circus, a few broadway shows, etc!)

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? I'd love to have a hand in all sorts of things but currently I think my dream job would be to help organize music festivals/performance events, and then perform on the side!

something you’re good at: I'd like to think I'm a good writer, my teachers keep telling me I am. Art and music (i hope lol), pretty okay at academics when i'm feeling good

something you’re bad at: self care omg. Tell me why I can't seem to fix my sleep schedule for the life of me.

something you love: media analysis! Music (really all but my specialties are jazz and percussion), sci-fi/fantasy

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: dnd. literally for days, probably. Any fixation show/book/media. Music theory is pretty up there. Gender studies and feminism and how sociology and group psychology affects those.

something you hate: there's not really a whole lot that irks me. if anything i guessed i'd be like... rich person arrogance vibes (although ironically I love writing characters like that soo)

something you collect: anything ant-man (its not even that i care that much anymore i just can't stop), washi tape, lighthouse calendars

something you forget: everything but its a toss up. There are some things I'm really good at remembering but they correlate at all and the same goes for what I forget.

what’s your love language? quality time!

favorite movie/show: Shows: TXF, Quantum Leap (specifically the 89 one, i haven't seen the new one), Resident Alien, Arcane, SPY x FAMILY, recently got into Dandadan, Supernatural is a new one for me too but it's good, Dungeon Meshi! Movies: Everything Everywhere All At Once. Any of the spiderverse movies are good, FernGully and Tangled and Treasure Planet were my childhood ones that i still watch, im sure there are others but my memory eludes me

favorite food: steaks up there. corn on the cob, like a good melt

favorite animal: BATS!!

what were you like as a child? really quiet socially but I opened up so much when I was comfy, nerdy, i did not gaf about people's opinions of me (unless it came to my hobbies, weirdly enough), awkward (i still am)

favorite subject at school? techincally i guess itd be music but that always felt like an exracurricular to me. My actually favorite class would've been calculus or maybe physics (the class wasn't that good but i love physics enough that it didn't matter), which is ironic bc i dont use either of those at all anymore

least favorite subject? history maybe, but it wasn't the subject i think it was just the class structure, i enjoy it more in college

what’s your best character trait? my optimism (i hope)! I like to think of myself as pretty upbeat.

what’s your worst character trait? horrible procrastinator. I also second guess myself a lot.

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? it's been a horrific bedrot day for me so really anything. maybe that i had done my homework eariler instead of letting it loom over me.

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? maybe like, Einstein. i think he'd be cool (unfortunately not an ideal time to be a time traveling woman)

recommend one of your favorite fanfics: im still trying to get more into fanfic. Here's a couple i've enjoyed so far. Queen of Swords by Labyrinth01 - character study-esque fic of Scully's recovery after her coma in s2. Stews in the reality of recovery, her relationship with Mulder is so in-character in the way that if this was in the show, i would believe it. the dusting of fall (the ridges of your bones) by the_raving_raven - one of my fav fics and i haven't even finished it. Super slow moving, so angsty, a big character study fic for dean winchester but it also delves into a really painful process of addiction recovery from sam and some of castiel's 'religious' trauma as well. Tomorrow is Long by SamQuixote - de-age supernatural fic but its the angsty kind instead of the shenanigans kind. an interesting study on dean's mentality and thought processes Cheer For Me? by darlingSuperstition - a lighter recommendation compared to the other three lol. this is a ranma1/2 fic but its like... secret identity mutual pining cheerleading au and for me not being a huge fluff person, i love it

tags if you feel so inclined! @loubetcha @substanc3 @kittynicoleart @alexmacc @nvclearwarheads @itscosmicnerd @nexusesvoid @kryptods @oddereyaa @starorbit-bliss

[artaxlivs]

20 questions for writers

I was tagged by @corrodedbisexual who is a kickass Steddie writer and you should check them out if you haven't already!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

45 although I have several dropping in June for Bangs (eek!)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

419,731 - which is just bonkers.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things, Marvel (Clint Barton centric) and Teen Wolf (I tripped and fell into that one but its just so good...fucking werewolves)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Destroy the Silence (Drummer Steve) - Steddie

An Accidental Flogging - Steddie

The Second Worst Trip to Mordor Ever Taken - Steddie

Even Flowers Have Their Dangers - Steddie

Screw Todd, Steve's Her (His) Daddy Now - Steddie

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always. Once every three weeks or so, I go through and leave full, complete responses to every single one (It's where I've met some of my favorite peeps!)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Angsty at the end?? Nah, I like my angst safely in the middle and I give it a nice landing in smut and laughter, thank you.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I mean, all of them? Endings are kind of my specialty - gotta stick the landing, you know? But in my Teen Wolf fic Somewhere Under the Rainbow it ends with a literal happy ending (not that kind you perv)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet but I don't write anything that would inspire hate (Hopefully?)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, yes I do. I really like consent and kink discussions and unlearning all the unhealthy shit society and our parents have dumped on all of us. And service Doms...because ❤️‍🔥

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have a problem with 80s movies and crossing them into fics. Gremlins, Dirty Dancing, etc. But like, just a little. My name is ARTAXLIVS, give me a break!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I mean AI is out there fucking us all without our consent, right?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have one currently being translated (Destroy the Silence)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Winterhawk probably - Clint Barton is just perfectly imperfect and Bucky Barnes is a growling bastard with a thing for idiots.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Fuck my life - don't come for me but There's Something Wrong with Steve has been sitting at 2/4 chapters for like 9 months and I actually have the last two chapters written but there's just something not clicking so I haven't posted them. I will. I WILL.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Endings - as stated, characterization, story flow, cadence, dialogue, smut scenes, minimalist world building but not a lack of - I get a lot of comments from people who also have aphantasia (we can't picture things in our heads) and I think it's because I don't describe every stupid ass tree (Tolkien, I'm talking to you)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Crippling self doubt

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Enh, you do you boo. When I write sign language or D/deaf culture for Clint, I touched base with someone fluent in ASL but I have access to that so...

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Marvel - Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton (Winterhawk, my loves)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Pic a favorite? Blergh. I really love when people comment on Even Flowers Have Their Dangers because it's the biggest world building thing I've ever done (there's a DND-like battle scene!) But also, What if Clint Fell has a special place in my heart because I love bashful first time gay Steve and slutty Clint figuring it out during WW2.

***

Pretty sure i just did one of these 20 questions things a few months ago so I'm gonna no pressure tag the people I'm currently collabing on bangs with so I can learn more about them: @angeleyz4ever @rufferto9 and I don't think @eviscer-8 writes fanfic but they're a bookbinder so maybe they could tweak the questions which would be interesting!

[8-bit-britt]

It was 8 o'clock in the afternoon and this date isn't going well for Rocko. Once again Heffer set him up with another girl, without his approval, and he's sitting in a booth waiting for the girl to finish flirting with the waiter. Rocko then slowly snuck out of the booth, which where the waiter sat at now, and out of the restaurant. He took a sigh of relief, "This is the last time Heffer sets me up on a blind date."

He looked across the street to find a bar called "The Rainbow Bar". He does like Rainbows so maybe this place shouldn't be that bad. Rocko walked into the bar and looked around the scenery. It looked very nice and there's hardly any girls around that dressed flashy. All of a sudden he noticed a shirt that looked almost like his but pink. A yellow beaver, who sat by himself with his face resting on his hand, was wearing this and Rocko being Rocko. He walked up to the Beaver and tapped his shoulder.

"Sorry to bother you but I must say. That's a dashing shirt you're wearing."

The beaver looked at him amused, "Thanks I've had this shirt for a long time.". He then look down and chuckled, "Your shirt looks nice too it goes well with you.".

Rocko smiled, "Thank you. Mind if I sit next to you? I don't do well with large crowds.". The beaver pat the seat next to him, "Sure bud have a seat right here.". Rocko sat next to the beaver, "Thank you. I've never been here before it's very nice.".

"It's better than the morning because they only give out beer. Nighttime there's good alcohol that has more flavor.", The Beaver said while drinking what looks to be a tequila cocktail. "You mind if I take a sip of that?", Rocko asked while staring at the drink in curiosity. The beaver smirked and passed the drink to him, "Already making a move on me? I'm impressed.". The beaver watched as Rocko took a sip of the drink and chuckled at his face making a funny look.

"It's a little sour but I think it'll taste sweeter if we try it another way.", The Beaver said as he leaned close to him smirking. Rocko nodded, "Yeah. Maybe we can ask for some sugar and maybe it'll taste sweeter?". The beaver chuckled at his humor knowing that he's too naive.

About two hours and four cocktails later the two were laughing. "Are you serious? She tried to get you in bed with her?", the beaver asked while wiping a tear from his eye. Rocko nodded, face flushed and laughed, "Yes! And her husband asked if it was awful. I felt so bad for her so I had to tell him off. Few months later I was working as a receptionist at a Specialty Phone Operator, and I answered to one of her calls!". The beaver laughed and leaned on him for support due to laughing to hard, "Guess the man is really bad at pleasing his wife.". This made Rocko laugh even more and nodded in agreement.

"It was really awkward but we never spoke of it. But enough about me what's your love life like?", Rocko asked while he took another sip of the margarita. The beaver chuckled and sipped his as well, "Not as interesting as yours but what can i say? Not every relationship is good.". Rocko looked at him a bit concerned, "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?".

The beaver waved it off and stared at his glass, "Had to go through a break up today because Treeflower didn't feel the same way I've felt for her. She wanted us to stay as friends instead because she feels like I deserve better. I mean at least she didn't cheat on me or anything but... It did hurt that I can't love someone who loves me back. I thought I finally got the girl of my dreams, but I guess I wasn't the man of her dreams.". The beaver frowned and took another sip at his drink.

Rocko then took the beavers hand and looked straight into his eyes, "Well I think she's missing out on someone who's funny, smart, cute and amazing. You deserve love that's reciprocating. You deserve the moon and stars, if you're going to give anyone the world. You deserve to be treated like a king if you're gonna treat someone like royalty. If they can't see that you're worthy then that's their loss."

The beaver's eyes watered and looked away flustered, "Thanks Rocko. No one has ever said that to me before." Rocko smiled, "Well I'll say it again anytime you need it.". The beaver chuckled, "Asking me out already? I haven't even given you my number yet Rocko.". Rocko laughed, "Well can I have your number so we can hang out again?". The beaver smirked and took a pen and paper and wrote his number down. He then folded it up and leaned close to Rocko.

"I'll be waiting for that call tomorrow Rocky Road.", he whispered in his ear while slipping the paper in his shirt pocket. The beaver then left and Rocko watched confused. "Rocky Road?."

"Finally got yourself a boyfriend huh Rocko?", a familiar female voice said. Rocko turned around surprised, "Dr. Hutchison? What are you doing here?". "I work here. Bartending is my side job, gotta have some money on the side right?". Rocko nodded in agreement and finished his drink. Dr. Hutchison then took the finished drink and began cleaning it, "So who's that cute beaver you're with? You sure swept him off his feet after that romantic speech you gave.". Rocko looked at her embarrassed, "We're just friends and he just got dumped by his ex girlfriend.".

Dr. Hutchison smirked, "He was clearly flirting with you and checking you out Rocko. How did you not see those signs that he wants you?". Rocko grew more flustered and sputtered, "He. I uhh. I didn't know he was into me or anything I just thought he was being friendly!".

Dr. Hutchison laughed, "Well that's what happens when you're in a gay bar Rocko. You're going to get a lot of guys flirting with you.". Rocko looked at her shocked, "Gay Bar?!"

Dr. Hutchison shook her head laughing, "You never knew? This is the RAINBOW Bar. For gay guys or bisexuals to hang out in!". Rocko covered his face embarrassed and put down a tip for her.

Next Morning

Rocko woke up groggy in bed. He stretched and yawned while scratching his chest. He noticed something in his shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and read

###-###-#### Look forward to seeing you again Rocky Road~

-Norbert

Rocko grew confused but then remembered everything at the bar. He grew flustered and covered his face with the pillow. He then thought about the way Norbert smiled and laughed. Rocko smiled a bit, his ears even more red, and then grabbed his phone.

I know you didn't just submit a cute fanfic this early in the morning ;_;

AAAAAAH AND YOU CAUGHT THE 'Popcorn Pandemonium' REFERENCE! Yes that was exactly my thinking on Norb's pink shirt catching his eye, that episode in particular. Also a very nice touch on the tie-in with Rocko loving rainbows as a reason for him to wander in an unfamiliar place, that was so obvious a connection and yet it slipped right by me. This was simply adorable <3

Yes I did make a Norbert crying gif just for this post cause how else could I react to this.

[therecordchanger62279]

Music geeks usually mark the end of the calendar year with best of lists. You have to pick the best records of the year, and the best artist of the year, and make sure everybody knows what you were listening to. None of that information really matters to anyone except the person making the list, but for music geeks, life has no meaning without such things, and it's cheaper than therapy. I still have my annual year-end Recordchanger roundup in the pipeline, but I wanted to convey just how much music I was listening to this year, and what, specifically I was into. Since a good part of my year was spent at my computer creating playlists that I could then listen to on the computer, or on my iPod while I was out and about, I thought the simplest, quickest way to do that was to give you a complete list of every playlist currently in my computer because I did, and still am listening to these as the year comes to an end.

I've divided the lists by category. Playlist lengths vary from about an hour's worth of music to enough to last an entire day. Most of it is self-explanatory, but I can offer a few notes about the categories. Artist Playlists spotlight a specific artist or band, and anything goes. For example, if an artist makes solo records and has been a member of a band, or several bands, I might mix the best of it all together. I might choose a couple of favorite albums. It might be hits or favorite tracks. It might represent a period of the artist's career, and highlight that time. It could even have tracks that featured guest appearances by the artist with other performers.

Record Label Playlists are exactly that - an overview of favorite tracks from a specific label. These are usually varied depending on the label, but they do provide an aural picture of what the label was all about based on the artists they chose to sign and record.

Miscellaneous Playlists are usually collections of songs that were all singles, or personal favorites, or songs most often played.

Genre and Specialty Playlists group recordings according to musical genre, or maybe a movement or category like Yacht Rock, or Outlaw Country, or even music that has a geographical connection (Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, etc.).

Box Sets, & Collections - Various Artists Playlists are actual box sets, or a series of releases under one banner.

And finally I have Producer Playlists that collect the production highlights of specific record producers I like.

All of this keeps the music fresh for me. It helps me to organize my listening a little better so that I get to listen to some of everything in my very large collection instead of just playing the same things again and again while some things collect dust on the shelf. Every one of these playlists got airplay this year - some more than others. And I discard old playlists, and add new ones regularly. So as this year winds down, this is the music I listened to in 2024. There's almost nothing in my collection that isn't represented somewhere on one or more of these playlists.

PLAYLIST UPDATE 12/24

ARTIST PLAYLISTS

Albert King / Allman Brothers Band / America / B.B. King / Baby & Co. / Bangles / Beach Boys / Beachwood Sparks / Beatles / Beatles ’62 / Beatles Solo / Benatar / Billie Eilish / Bird (Charlie Parker) / Black Sabbath, Blood Sweat & Tears / Brian Eno / Bruce Power Trios / Buddy & Co. / Cactus / Candy Dulfer / Captain Beefheart / Cat Stevens / Celine Dion / Charlie Watts / Chicago / Chick Corea / Chick Corea Elektric Band / Chuck Berry’s Golden Decades / Coltrane ’59-’61 / Dave Alvin & Jimmie Dale Gilmore / Deep Purple / Doors / Doro & Warlock / Doug Snyder & Co. / Duffy / Dukes of Stratosphear / Dylan / Dylan ’75-’76 / E.L.O./The Move / Elmore James / Emmylou Harris / Eno (Ambient) / Eric Clapton & His Band / Faces at the BBC / Fleetwood Mac / Genesis / George Jones & Tammy Wynette / Georgie Fame / Glenn Hughes / Grace Jones / Gram Parsons / Grand Funk Railroad / Grateful Dead / Guess Who / Hall & Oates / Harold Budd & Brian Eno / Heart / Heartbreakers Live / Holly Beth Vincent / Humble Pie / Illusion / J. Geils Band / Jamaaladeen Tacuma / James “Blood” Ulmer / James Taylor / Jeff Beck / Jefferson Airplane / Jefferson Starship / Jimi Hendrix / Joan Jett / John Entwistle / John Wetton / Joni Mitchell / The Kinks / L.A. Witch / Lana Del Rey (8 playlists – one for each album) / Led Zeppelin / Lightfoot / Linda Ronstadt / Michael Steele / Midnight Oil / Miles Davis / Miles ’54 / Miles (Circle In The Round) / Miles (Directions) / Miles 10” LPs / Miles Blue / Miley Cyrus / Muddy & The Wolf / Nanci Griffith / Nancy & Co. / Neil Young & Friends / Olivia Newton-John / Oregon, Codona & Walcott / Ornette Coleman / Ozzy Osbourne / Patti Smith / Paul Revere & The Raiders / Paul Rodgers & Co. / Paul Weller / PJ Harvey / PJ Harvey Live / R.E.M. / Rachel Z / Rainbow / Randy Newman / Renaissance / Return To Forever / Rickie Loves Tom /  Rod Stewart & Faces / Rolling Solo / Rolling Stones / Rolling Stones ’75-’77 / Rolling Stones Live! / Ron Carter / Ronnie Spector / Rory Gallagher / Roxy Music / Sabrina Carpenter / Santana / Scorpions / Sid & Suzie / Simon & Garfunkel / Sleater-Kinney / Softcult / Sonic Youth / Steely Dan / Stephen Stills / Steppenwolf / Steve Miller Band / Susanna Hoffs / Suzanne Vega / Tacocat / Tanya Tucker / Taylor Swift (11 playlists – one for each studio album, and The Long Pond Studio Sessions) / Temptations / Ten Years After / The Clash / The Jam / The Police / The Reivers / Todd Rundgren & Utopia / Tom Petty / Toshiko Akiyoshi / Townshend / Van Halen / Van Morrison / Velvet Underground / Waylon Jennings / Weather Report / Who / Willy Deville / Winwood / XTC / Yoko Ono / Yuja Wang Duets / Yuja Marathon / Yuja Recitals / Yuja Wang / Frank Zappa

RECORD LABELS

Alive/Total Energy / Alligator Blues / Bar None / Beserkley / Bomp / Disaster / ECM Radio / ECM Touchstones / ECM Touchstones II / I.R.S. / Norton / Stiff Records

MISCELLANEOUS

AM Gold / AM Soul / CD5’s / Hot 100 / My Jukebox / Annual Playlists by Year: 1969, 70, 71, 72, 73

GENRE & SPECIALTY

Americana / Asylum West / Bang Yer Head / Blues / Brazilia / British Blues Boom / Christmas / Clive’s World / Country / Creem / Film Music / Folk / Garage Rock / Glitter & Glam / Groove / Hip-Hop / Jazz Christmas / Jazz Fusion / Jazz Is / Jazz Iz / Jazz Was / Jersey Shore / Live! / Mad Dogs & Englishmen / Michigan Rocks / Mod Revival / Moondog Matinee / No More Wars / Northern Soul / NWOBHM / Outlaws / Paisley Underground / Pop TV / Post Modern / Psychedelia / QSKY Radio / Radio London / Redbeard / Reggae & Co. / San Francisco / Slash/Los Angeles / Southbound / Southern Rock / Surf ‘N’ Drag / Troubadours / Trouser Press / UK Underground / Vinyl Masters / Virtuosos / Voices / West Coast Jazz / What’s New / Yacht Rock

BOX SETS & COLLECTIONS VARIOUS ARTISTS

Beg, Scream & Shout / Coolest Songs / ECM Loss Leader / Immediate

PRODUCERS

Norman Whitfield / Quincy Jones / Shel Talmy

[angiezidler205]

Rainbow Date

Rockbert Fanfic

It was 8 o'clock in the afternoon and this date isn't going well for Rocko. Once again Heffer set him up with another girl, without his approval, and he's sitting in a booth waiting for his “date” to finish flirting with the waiter. He rested his cheek in his hand, annoyed that she's talking about how handsome the waiter is. Rocko then slowly snuck out of the booth, which is where the waiter sat at now, and out of the restaurant. He took a sigh of relief, "This is the last time Heffer sets me up on a blind date. Again." 

He looked across the street to find a bar called "The Rainbow Bar". He does like Rainbows so maybe this place shouldn't be that bad. Rocko walked into the bar and looked around the scenery. It looked very nice and there's hardly any girls around that dressed flashy. He walked around the place, looking at so many cool stuff, seeing a DJ dancing, and so many comfortable seats. All of a sudden he noticed a shirt that looked almost like his but pink. A yellow beaver, who sat by himself with his face resting on his hand, was wearing this and Rocko being Rocko. He walked up to the Beaver and cleared his throat.

"Sorry to bother you but I must say. That's a dashing shirt you're wearing.", He complimented while pointing at the shirt.

The beaver looked at him amused, "Thanks I've had this shirt for a long time, it's very comfortable.". He then looked down and chuckled, "Your shirt looks nice too it goes well with you.". 

Rocko smiled, "Thank you. Mind if I sit next to you? I don't do well with large crowds.". The beaver patted the seat next to him, "Sure bud have a seat right here.". Rocko sat next to the beaver, "Thank you. I've never been here before, it's very nice.". 

"It's better than the morning because they only give out beer. Nighttime there's good alcohol that has more flavor. I honestly prefer the fruity type.", The Beaver said while drinking what looks to be a tequila cocktail. "You mind if I take a sip of that?", Rocko asked while staring at the drink in curiosity. The beaver smirked and passed the drink to him, "Already trying something new? That's bold of ya.". The beaver watched as Rocko took a sip of the drink and chuckled at his face making a funny look.

"It's a little sour but I think it'll taste sweeter if we try it another way.", The Beaver said as he leaned close to him smirking. Rocko nodded, "Yeah. Maybe we can ask for some sugar and maybe it'll taste sweeter?". The beaver gave him a blank expression then laughed at his naivety. 

About two hours and four cocktails later the two were laughing. "Are you serious? She tried to get you in bed with her?", the beaver asked while wiping a tear from his eye. Rocko nodded, face flushed and laughed, "Yes! And her husband asked if it was awful. I felt so bad for her so I had to tell him off. Few months later I was working as a receptionist at a Specialty Phone Operator, and I answered one of her calls!". The beaver laughed and leaned on him for support due to laughing too hard, "Guess the man is really bad at pleasing his wife.". This made Rocko laugh even more and nodded in agreement. 

"It was really awkward but we never spoke of it. But enough about me, what's your love life like?", Rocko asked while he took another sip of the margarita. The beaver chuckled and sipped his as well, "Not as interesting as yours but what can I say? Not every relationship is good.". Rocko looked at him a bit concerned, "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?". 

The beaver waved it off and stared at his glass, "Had to go through a break up today because she didn't feel the same way I've felt for her. She wanted us to stay as friends instead because she feels like I deserve better. I mean at least she didn't cheat on me or anything but... It did hurt that I can't love someone who loves me back. I thought I finally got the girl of my dreams, but I guess I wasn't the man of her dreams.". The beaver frowned and took another sip at his drink.

Rocko felt awful for him. He’s a great guy to be with and very kind and charming. He then took the beaver's hand and looked straight into his eyes, "Well I think she's missing out on someone who's funny, smart, cute and amazing. You deserve love that's reciprocating. You deserve the moon and stars, if you're going to give anyone the world. You deserve to be treated like a king if you're gonna treat someone like royalty. If they can't see that you're worthy then that's their loss." 

The beaver's eyes watered and looked away flustered, "Thanks Rocko. No one has ever said that to me before." Rocko smiled, "Well I'll say it again anytime you need it.". The beaver chuckled and drank the rest of his drink, “Honestly I'm surprised you haven't swept anyone off their feet. With your charming romantic speech, all the ladies should be at your door.”. Rocko turned red and chuckled, “I actually have been on so many dates, but they're never my type. They always wanted my money and expected me to look more handsome.”. The beaver looked at him offended, “Really?”

Rocko nodded while laughing, “Really! I just got out of a date because she was flirting with the waiter. In front of me! I left without paying so she's probably going to flirt her way out.”. The beaver laughed loud and Rocko joined the laugh as well. The beaver then looked at him smiling, “You deserve someone as amazing as you, Rocko. You're the perfect Wallaby every girl needs.” Rocko looked at him shocked, “Did you just call me a Wallaby?”. The beaver looked at him confused, “Well aren't you?”. Rocko grabbed his hands and leaned close to him, “You're the first beaver that ever knew my species. Everyone always called me a Kangaroo, Beaver, Rabbit, or Dog!”. 

The beaver blushed at this and smiled, “I feel your pain Rocko. People used to call me a Weasel so many times. It's annoying!”. Rocko pulled away and raised his hands up, “Exactly! It's like the whole world is blind!”. The beaver laughed and rested his face on his hand staring at Rocko. Rocko smiled while looking to the side, “It's amazing to meet you, you know? I'd honestly want to do this again sometime.”. 

The beaver chuckled while staring at him enchanted, "Asking me out already? I haven't even given you my number yet Rocko.". Rocko laughed, "Well can I have your number so we can hang out again?". The beaver smirked and took a pen and paper and wrote his number down. He then folded it up and leaned close to Rocko. 

"I'll be waiting for that call tomorrow Rocky Road.", he whispered in his ear while slipping the paper in his shirt pocket. He kissed his cheek softly and got off the stool. The beaver then left and Rocko watched confused, while rubbing his red cheek, "Rocky Road?.”

"Finally got yourself a boyfriend huh Rocko?", a familiar female voice said. Rocko turned around surprised, "Doctor Hutchison? What are you doing here?". 

"I work here. Bartending is my side job, gotta help somebody Hook up right?", Doctor Hutchinson laughed.

Rocko nodded in agreement and finished his drink. Doctor Hutchison then took the finished drink and began cleaning it, "So who's that cute beaver you're with? You sure swept him off his feet after that romantic speech you gave.". Rocko looked at her embarrassed, "We're just friends and he just got dumped by his ex-girlfriend.".

Doctor Hutchison smirked, "He was clearly flirting with you and checking you out Rocko. How did you not see those signs that he wants you?". Rocko grew more flustered and sputtered, "He. I uhh. I didn't know he was into me or anything. I just thought he was being friendly!".

Doctor Hutchison laughed, "Well that's what happens when you're in a gay bar Rocko. You're going to get a lot of guys flirting with you.". Rocko looked at her shocked, "Gay Bar?!" 

Doctor Hutchison shook her head laughing, "You never knew? This is the RAINBOW Bar. For gay guys or bisexuals to hang out in!". Rocko covered his face embarrassed and put down a tip for her. He got in his car and drove home safely. Driving home drunk is a very dangerous way to drive. 

Next Morning

Rocko woke up groggy in bed and still wearing his clothes. He stretched and yawned while scratching his chest. He noticed something in his shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He was confused at first but then remembered the beaver he'd met at the bar. He opened it and read 

###-###-#### Looking forward to meeting you again Rocky Road~ 

-Norbert

He grew flustered at the name and covered his face with the pillow. He then thought about the way Norbert smiled and laughed. Rocko smiled a bit, his ears even more red, and then grabbed his phone. 

[belong2human-kind]

Hey guys! Clara, echoflower, here! :')

This going to be a really long post and it contains my view of my disorder OCD and it can be triggering to some, so I already apologize for the length and also for possible triggers :(

I've been offline from tumblr because there's too many things happening in my life, and although I'm not really depressed again, I don't think I can engage in the things I love the most on here, which is my fandoms like Rebels, SW, deltarune, undertale, Avatar and so many more you know? As much as I want to be active here because these things bring me so much joy, I don't think I have the energy to do it for now :(

I know I've mentioned quite sometimes here, but I have OCD and GAD since my whole life, and many of my behaviors are still influenced by them because although I'm in treatment and I do see many positive results, I only discovered OCD too late in life, in my 19s during covid when I almost got through a psychotic episode. OCD makes you question reality in such a sick way that, if you don't have support and don't have the diagnosis, you can experience a disconnection from reality since you question your whole self and the world around you. It's much more deep than just checking the doorknob 3 times to make sure it's locked, because it is never only 3 times. Maybe 4, maybe 6, maybe 7 or you skip to 12, but never really only 3. You engage in compulsions and you know that they do not make any sense, you see the door locked in front of you, but it's like a feeling. It doesn't feel like it's locked. And these types of questioning can suddenly change to other topics because this is one of OCD specialties, right? To infiltrate in everything you know and believe and twist that against you, making you doubt yourself and your reality around, making you feel confused and guilty. I have pretty bad themes on my ocd like "What if I hurt someone I love while I'm holding a knife or scissor??" And I have this one, followed by horrifying intrusive realistic thoughts that show me performing the action I despise the most, and to avoid the thought or relieve the stress of it, I need to do something. Sometimes, screaming "no, I won't do it" out loud, sometimes avoidance. I stopped using any really pointed and sharp scissors and knives at age of 7 to 8 years. And the thing about engaging in compulsions is that, it helps, momentarily, but it gets worst as time passes by. And the thoughts can turn into more monstrous things, like "Imagine if you kissed your parent romantically??" "Oh this person that passed through me was good looking... Did I just cheat on my boyfriend? I think I did..." and other what ifs and pathological doubts that never ends and can apply to anything, specially the things you care the most about. If you value honesty, then OCD makes you feel a liar. If you're certain you are someone good, ocd doubts that until you question your own actions, all of them, even the smallest ones like touching your nose. If you are afraid of being sick or catching microorganisms (thankfully I don't have this type because I could probably never engage in biology and microbiology, my passions) you become hyper aware of any normal thing in your body, they become signals of something that isn't there, but you can't believe it because it feels like it is. It's like experiencing your worst nightmares repeating on an endless spiral in your mind, daily.

And as time passes with you being in the dark and not understanding why you do this although you know it's illogical and you don't really want to do, the more you spend your life without the knowledge that you have this disorder and consequently without the properly treatment, the more time it takes to heal all the damage. And sadly, I'm 21 now. I've been just "weird Clara with weird superstitions and rituals" for 19 years but I've been "Clara, who has OCD diagnosed and treated" for almost 3 years now. The process is slow, it's full of ups and downs, and I had very meaningful losses in my life during the pandemic years, which impacted negatively on my healing :(

I lost my dad, my dog and the other closest person in my house (which I already mentioned in private to some but won't say publicly because of my mystical OCD and the belief that if I mention her name I'll deem her bc of my fault) is fighting cancer rn, metastic one, and her treatment is having ups and downs that makes me feel so so bad... some days I'm just hopless, you know?

I was recently also confirmed to my old suspecting of ADHD. I had it all my life, but my OCD and generalized anxiety made it difficult to notice. Now that they are much more controlled, adhd is so so loud and I was in the dark, not knowing why I was so lazy, why I would forget to drink and eat, forget to go to the bathroom and take baths, brush my teeth, forget to feed my so beloved pets... now I know, but some relatives like aunts and uncles still don't have the patience to deal with it. I'm trying to get better, but because of OCD and GAD, I cannot treat ADHD, since they are opposite medications 🥲 so I guess I'll just have to find ways to compensate my chronically lateness, lack of time understanding and lack of energy to exist someday too, to simply get out of bed even though you want to do so many things.

Anyways, this post is already super long, but I just want to update you all and thank for all the amazing friends I've got here, and all the prayers and support as well. I used to be (still am a little) super shy to post my things, but the Rebels fan community received me so lovingly that I got confident to post my arts 🥺 I really adore you all guys 🌻

I intend to be back as soon as possible, I just really need to get my life together, that by now is a chaos 🥲 but I'm sure I'll be around when Ahsoka goes on air bc my hyperfixation on Bine and Ezra will be back!! Lol 🥲

I hope you all are doing great! Miss you all guys 🌻

[le-higuu]

Transcription below the Read More:

Stan: wakes up disoriented, then jolts upright after realizing where he is.

Ford: "mm... Stanley?— Oh! Are you back?"

Stan: "...Yeah. I'm back."

Ford: "Do you... Remember what happened?"

Stan: "...Yeah. I..."

Stan: "I was actin' pretty weird, huh?"

Ford: "Well, sure, but you know me— weird is my specialty."

Stan: "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up."

Ford: "So, what is it like? Do you retain your adult memories? Fiddleford thought you might not, but you knew who he was, so I disagreed."

Stan: "Wow. You uh. Sure have a lot of questions. Never change, Six."

Fiddleford: I heard y'all yappin'. You back, Stan?"

Stan: "...Yeah."

Fiddleford: "Oh, good."

Ford: "So, which one of us was right?"

Fiddleford: "I ain't so sure he wants to talk about that Ford."

Ford: "Ah? Why's that?"

Fiddleford: "Well, I certainly don't wanna talk about my... episodes."

Ford: "But this is different, Fiddleford! There's so much we don't know!"

Fiddleford: "Well it ain't our business to know."

Ford: "Of course it is, I'm his brother."

Fiddleford: "Well I ain't —"

Stan: shouting, "Would'ya both shut your yaps!?"

Stan: "Look, it's just a weird thing that happens sometimes. We all had our laughs, now let's forget it. Okay?"

Ford: "...What do you mean, 'happens sometimes'?"

Fiddleford: "Ford!"

Ford: "What? This is important context!"

Stan: "HAH! Did I say that? I meant that— it— uh— happens to people. In general."

Ford: deadpan, "I have literally never experienced that before in my life."

Stan: "Well— duh— Y— YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"

Fiddleford: "Well, Stan, if this were a reoccurring phenomenon, it'd help to know what might trigger it so we can avoid it in the future. Y'know— so you don't have to experience that again."

Stan: "...Right. Experience... That."

Ford: pauses for a second. "...Was it really so bad?"

Stan: "What?"

Ford: "Look, I know it's silly, and childish, and I was worried at first, but... Being able to just... pretend, for a while. Go back to when we were kids and things were so... simple."

Ford: "... I didn't hate it."

Stan: pauses for a second. "... I didn't hate it either."

Ford: "What's it like?"

Stan: collects his thoughts. "It's like... My brain just kinda goes into a fog, and I can't... think adult things? It's kinda fun sometimes, even. If I find a toy or a game to play. Sometimes it, uh... Wasn't."

Ford: "But it's not harmful to you in any way?"

Stan: "I mean... not as far as I can tell?"

Ford: "Then I see no reason for us to be concerned!"

Fiddleford: "But Ford, what if it happens while he's alone?"

Ford: "...Ah."

Stan: "Hey, don't worry about me. I've been fine on my own so far, right? Take it easy."

Ford: "But ... you haven't."

Ford: "The entire reason this happens is because you were alone for so long. And I don't want you to be just fine. Besides, it's.. partially my fault. The least I can do is support you."

Stan: "...So that's it, then?"

Ford: "What?"

Stan: "So, the only reason ya went along with this— did any of this—"

Fiddleford: "Hey, now.."

Stan: "Was because ya felt guilty? It wasn't even your fault!"

Ford: "Of course not, I—"

Stan: "Quit lyin' to me!"

Ford: "I'M NOT!"

Stan: "Yes you are! You think this is some sick science experiment, don't you?? Well, I'm not—!"

Ford: "I MISSED YOU TOO!!" Ford is hugging himself.

Ford: "I... I missed being your brother. And this— being able to laugh with you, and play, and tell stories... It was good! I... I missed that."

Stan: "... I missed it too. Ok? Why d'you think it even happens in the first place? I'm not dumb. But we can't really go back. No matter how much we want to."

Ford: "Why not?"

Ford: "Why can't we act like kids again? Don't we deserve to have that back? After everything? After everything this evil fucking world has taken from us... Don't we deserve to get something back for once?"

Stan: sniffs. "....maybe."

Ford: "Then let's figure this out. Together."

Stan: "... Wherever we go."

The brothers hug each other.

Fiddleford: thinking to himself, "Thank God they made up."

your age regressed Stan has interested me, would you be willing to do more?

very well <3

[forcesung]

A slow smile spread across her guard's face. "Padawan try fool Bulgan. No Jedi tricks here. Bulgan and Kyakhta little slow, maybe. But that not mean we stupid." Rising and lumbering forward, he loomed over her seated form; a broad- chested, bald-pated, threatening mass of muscle and bone, unusually massive for an Ansionian. "You think Bulgan stupid?"   "I did not say that, nor did I mean it," she responded soothingly. The Alwari backed off. "But I do see something else about you that I am sure of."   The hulking native's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What that? Careful be, Padawan human. Bulgan not afraid of you."   "I can see that. What I also see, and can sense in ways you cannot imagine, is that both you and your accomplice are in pain-and probably have been so for a long time."  

Bulgan's brown, gold-flecked Ansionian eye bulged even wider than usual. "How-how you know that?"   "In addition to the usual Jedi training, many of us have our own specialties. Areas of learning that we are especially drawn toward. Myself, I am a practicing healer." "But you human. Not Ansion."   "I know." Her tone was tender, reassuring-compelling. "And I can't fix your poor back, or give you a prosthetic to re place your missing eye. But the pain in your mind is akin to the pain nearly all warm-blood sentients experience. It arises from certain kinds of neural breakdowns and malfunctions. It's as if someone was trying to wire a very complex computer and all the necessary materials and components were laid out before her, but she wasn't quite sure how to link everything together. So she did a job that was a little too hasty. Do you understand anything of what I'm saying, Bulgan?"   The Alwari nodded slowly. "Bulgan not dumb. Bulgan understand. Haja, that just how Bulgan feel most of the time. Not wired right." Tilting his head slightly to one side, he stared at her hard out of his one good eye. "Padawan can fix that?" "I can't make any promises. But I can try."  

"Fix pain in head." Her captor was clearly exerting a considerable mental effort. "No more pain here." He rubbed his forehead with his open palm. "That be a big thing. Bigger even, maybe, than credits." The effort at extended cogitation having exhausted his limited intellectual resources, he glared at her again. "How know Bulgan can trust you?" "I give you my word word as a Padawan, as a student of the Jedi arts, as one who has dedicated her life to their high ideals- and to mastering the skills of a healer."   Obviously torn, her captor took a deep breath, glanced circumspectly at the door, and then turned back to her. "You try fix Bulgan. But if you try trick, I-"   "I've given you my word," she interrupted him, forestalling his threat. "Besides, where could I go? The door is locked and barricaded from the outside. Or haven't you realized that you're locked in here with me?" She did not smile. "Your friend is taking no chances."   "Locked in?" He rubbed his bare skull, his hand passing to either side of where a dark mane would normally be. "Bulgan confused."   Immediately, she jumped on the opening thus offered. "Confusion comes from the pain you've been living with. Let me try to help you, Bulgan. Please. If I fail, it costs you nothing. Even if I succeed, you can still keep me in here because the door is locked from outside."  

"That right. Padawan speak truth. Ou, you try."   Meeting his gaze evenly, she gestured toward her bound wrists. "You have to untie me. To do this kind of work, I need my hands."   He was instantly wary. "What for? Jedi trick?"   "No. Please trust me, Bulgan. There are vastly more im portant things at stake here than my life, or the size of your future credit account." [...] [H]e reluctantly stepped behind Barriss and passed a desealer across her wrists. The opaque bond that restrained them promptly dissolved, breaking down into cellulose, catalyst, and water. Relieved to have her hands free, she rubbed firmly at her wrists. As the circulation began returning, she beckoned for him to approach. "Come here, Bulgan," she instructed him gently. He did so with head bowed, shuffling his feet like a child approaching its mother. A very strong, very dangerous child, she reminded herself. She did not have to ask him to lower his head farther. His poor bent spine had already placed it within reach. Extending both hands, palm downward, she tenderly cradled the sides of his skull, careful not to cover the aural openings. His flesh was warm to the touch- the normal Ansionian body temperature being several degrees higher than that of a human. Her eyes closed, and she began to concentrate.

A throbbing ran through her as her focus sharpened. An en during, agonizing ache that through straining and training she made her own. She let herself flow outward toward it, surrounding it with the soothing balm that was her own harmonious inner self. Within the damaged, misfiring neurons that were the source of the native's ongoing hurt, the Force compelled a subtle realignment of tissues, an almost imperceptible but physiologically critical alteration. She stood holding him like that for several long, silent minutes: healer and patient locked together in that mysterious, inscrutable mutual melding comprehensible only to another master of the Jedi healing arts. Not until all felt normal and natural and well did she finally allow herself to withdraw from the vulnerable state into which she had placed them both.   Opening her eyes, she found herself staring back at her captor. But there was something different about him now: a faint but discernible change of posture, a glint instead of a dullness in his eye. He straightened slightly, as much as his broken, permanently bent back would allow, and looked slowly around the room.   "How do you feel?" she finally prompted him when no words were forthcoming.   "Feel? Bulgan feel-I feel good. Very good." Making fists of both three-fingered hands, he raised them toward the roof. "Really exceptionally remarkably good! Haja, jaha, ou oul" The little dance he proceeded to perform, joyfully throwing his arms repeatedly into the air all the while, lifted her hopes in concert with his spirit.  

Then he stopped, lowered his hands, and said to her in a no tably different tone of voice than he had used before, "But you're still my prisoner, Padawan." When she slumped, he grinned, showing fine Ansionian teeth. "For about another minute." "You mean?..." His intent became clear when he walked over to her with a spring in his step that had been absent previously and bent to pass the desealer across her ankle bonds. They dissolved promptly, allowing her to stand. Her feet and legs numb from lack of use, she would have fallen had he not caught her in his strong arms.   At which point the door clicked and Kyakhta entered the room.   To say that the senior Alwari was startled by the sight that greeted his bulging eyes was an understatement worthy of a senior tax collector. The sight of the Jedi Padawan unbound was disquieting enough. The sight of her slumped slightly in his partner's arms was a spectacle that constituted an irresolvable conundrum. If Bulgan did not with his first utterance say exactly the right thing, Kyakhta was ready to bolt back outside and lock them both back in.   Fortunately, the heretofore guileless Bulgan was now in a cerebral position to do so.   "She fixed me," he informed his companion simply and straightforwardly, tapping the side of his head. "Fixed me here. She can fix you, too."   "No promises," Barriss warned them both.   "Fix what?" Kyakhta had already taken a wary step backward. "I not broken. What do you mean, fix me?" "Up here." Once more, the mentally mended Bulgan touched hand to head. "I have no more pain in my mind. I know you suffer from the same syndrome, my good friend. Let her work her Jedi healing on you." Another step back. The door was within reach. Easy to dart back out into the hallway, slam the barrier shut, and seal the lock. But-what had happened to Bulgan in his absence? Kyakhta wondered. He hadn't been gone very long. Only a few minutes, and now his good, honest, dumb companion in mutual exile and disgrace was talking like an infernal city councilor! No, he corrected himself. Not like a councilor.  

Like a true Alwari nomad: independent, confident, and free. Three fingers hovered in the vicinity of the door. The Jedi made no move to stop him, though he sensed she might have done so. "What this nonsense about 'Jedi healing'?"   "She worked it on me. Fixed my head, my mind. It doesn't hurt anymore, Kyakhta! I can think clearly again. My thoughts haven't been this free since I was a child and was thrown from that suubatar." His voice lowered. "That was the same throw, the bad dismount, that broke my back and stole my eye-and damaged my mind."   "But I…" Kyakhta was at a loss for words. In the face of the evidence, in the face of his friend's face, he was forced to accept a seemingly inconceivable reality.   There was another reality that would have to be faced, and quickly. Unbound hands outstretched, the Jedi was advancing slowly toward him.

"Let me help you, Kyakhta. I give you the same promise I made to Bulgan. Whether I can help you or not, I am still your prisoner."   That was true, Kyakhta realized. Dissolved bonds not withstanding, he and his friend were still the ones in control here. Only they knew the way out of the building in which the cell was located. Only they could get her past the outer guards and security checkpoints. Of course, a Jedi Knight would probably make short work of such minor obstacles, but a Padawan still in training... Unarguably, she had worked a marvel with Bulgan. Could she take away the similar pain that had afflicted him all his adult life; remove the regular, pounding waves of agony that daily stabbed through his brain? Wasn't it worth, if nothing else, a try?   "Go ahead," he told her, adding by way of warning, "if this a trick, the bossban may not receive you undamaged."  

Paying no attention to the threat, she reached out and up to put her hands on the sides of his head and draw it toward her. Her fingers were cool against his skull, he realized, and there were too many of them, but otherwise her touch was inoffensive. Calming, even.   Several moments later, he was blinking back at her with the same awed realization that had not long before nearly overcome his companion. Unlike Bulgan, he did not throw his arms wildly in the air and dance small circles. Instead, he bowed. As performed by an Ansionian, it was a particularly graceful and supple gesture. "I owe you my sanity, Padawan. For had you not interceded, I see surely now that the pain I have been living with would have led all too soon to utter madness, and eventually to death." Turning from her, he embraced his old companion-in- despair, long arms wrapping around Bulgan's broad shoulders, maned and bald head bobbing together in ardent, mutual exultation.

— The Approaching Storm, Alan Dean Foster

[altanonder]

For a long time, Altan had trusted in the Coven and the council, certain that they were the very foundation that was keeping Lunar Cove safe. It was only now, with distance between his childhood idealism and the attacks that seemed to only be growing with force that he had begun to question it. Especially given Poppy’s new title and how he could see the cracks building within her, as if the responsibilities were draining her of life. “Maybe what the coven needs is more of us to step in, not just one person taking all the burden. We need to take advantage of your specialty, after all.” If Poppy looked closely, he knew she would probably be able to catch the glimpse of concern that hid behind his smile.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure why he was pushing the matter. Evidence had shown him time and time again that it only served to push Poppy further away. But he needed something, a little glimmer of hope to hold onto and remind him that he wasn't the only one who'd gotten his heart involved. The reminder of how things had ended stung, even now, but it would never hurt more than it had those first couple of months right after she'd left and he'd been at his lowest. He'd dug himself deeper into his despair, until he was certain that he'd never manage to crawl back out of it, but he had, and come out stronger because of the hurt she'd left. "We were just kids then. Are you telling me you haven't changed a bit since the last time we were together?" He'd witnessed it first-hand, even having this conversation would have been an impossibility ten years ago. Maybe it was foolish to hope for a different outcome this time around, for a long time he hadn’t even dared to consider it. But he knew how much he had grown, had seen it in Poppy too, and even if she left this time around, he knew he could handle it, but he’d always regret not trying when he had the chance. "Who's to say it would end the same if we tried now?"

His gaze softened, taking another step towards her as he took in her words. "I took off the rose-colored glasses a long time ago, Poppy. Maybe I had them on back when we were in high school, but they disappeared when you left." At the time, he’d felt the bitter sting of betrayal and dejection, and for a while he'd even tried to hate her. But he'd never been good at holding onto resentment, and the longer time had gone on the more he'd begun to understand Poppy's desire to leave, even if there was a part of him that still wished she'd wanted to take him with her. It’d only taken stumbling upon her in some random bar in a city they were both strangers to remind him of the spark that had never quite burned out. Although it had almost felt like he was relearning her back then, a version of Poppy that had already left him and was still a flight risk. "And yet, I still like what I see." Even now, they were still changing, although Altan wondered if maybe they’d always managed to grow toward each other instead of having their differences be heightened to a point where they were no longer compatible. "I think there are plenty of people who see you the way I do, even if you don't see it yourself."

There was a part of it that stung, how deeply she seemed to want him to move on, but he had to wonder how much of it was true. If it wouldn’t sting her just as much as he knew it’d hurt him to see her moving on with someone else. "I've tried Poppy, I've dated people who were 'perfect', exactly what my parents would want, what people said I should want, and none of them made me happy. The closest I've ever gotten was with you." Frustration tinged his words, although if it was directed at her for pushing the matter, or himself for still fighting a battle that he'd been losing for so long, he wasn't sure. "She might want me to bring someone home, but mostly, she wants me to be happy." With time, they'd even come to accept Poppy if he brought her back home. Even despite their disapproval of her, their love ran deeper than whatever blame they’d placed on her shoulders, but there wasn’t a point in even mentioning her to them at the moment.

He knew all the reasons they shouldn't go down this route again, had repeated them over and over again to stop himself from wandering back into her arms for the past couple of weeks. But here he was again, the smallest taste of Poppy’s lips able to undo every argument he’d waged inside his own head. A reminder that the pull she had over him was unable to be untethered despite how much they'd both tried. Even without a clear answer from her, the idea of not loving her seemed impossible when she'd held a piece of his heart since he was sixteen. "It's okay, Poppy." His thumb brushed along her lip, half tempted to cut their conversation off short and tug her in closer. But they needed to talk for once, and this was the most they had in a long time about what they actually were to each other.

He could see in her eyes how desperate she was for an answer to her question, but as much as he wanted to give her something simple, Altan knew that he couldn't. Life had thrown them in each other's paths, but even if it had happened differently there was no telling what direction his life might have gone. "I can't give you that, Poppy. I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't met you. I could tell you that I'd have gone to MIT, become exactly what my parents expected of me, and married a girl they loved. But who knows if that would be the truth? I don't know if I would have been happy if that had happened. Who even knows if that's how it would have panned out -- maybe I'd have screwed up even worse all on my own, maybe I'd have burned out and been miserable, or ended up dead when the first attacks happened." Every single choice they made could have a different outcome on their futures, the theoretical possible endings infinite. He'd dwelled on the what-ifs for a long time after she'd first left, but there had come a point where Altan knew it was doing more harm than good. "The point is, I did meet you, and the truth is, I wouldn't take that back even if I could."

His arm wound around her as she tucked herself into his chest, holding on tight in the way he hadn't been able to these past couple of weeks. There’s a sense of relief at the feel of her laughter against his chest, his smile widening and a chuckle escaping his own lips in turn. Maybe she wasn't alright, maybe they weren't either, but it was a glimpse into what they could be. A potential future where he could pull a laugh from her lips whenever she needed it, and the worries that seemed to creep up on the daily about what would happen to Lunar Cove would fade into the background. "Mhm, was she even a villain in her film though? Wasn't she just misunderstood? She saved Aurora in the end too. I think I need another example if I'm willing to entertain the notion." It was so easy slipping back into familiar patterns, the soft glide of her fingers against his bare skin sending a shiver of desire through his body. "I know you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. But you don't have to be alone." He wasn't sure what his undoing was, if it was the soft whine that fell from her lips, or the way her nails scraped along his back, either way, this time he didn’t hesitate as his lips pressed back against hers, stifling his own groan against them. Most likely, he'd lost any hope of keeping his distance the moment he'd decided to check in on her, that it was inevitable that they’d end back here. Maybe this was the wrong choice, but Altan couldn’t bring himself to care as he pressed her back against the bar, teeth gently nipping at her bottom lip.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You say that, but New Years kinda showed me that I’m really not allowed.” Trying to laugh it off even though it had been eye opening that she wasn’t doing okay. If anything she’d just been masking and pretending to be okay, which is what the coven wanted from her. Any less and they seemed annoyed or felt she was unfit to lead. “What can I say, sitting and looking pretty is a speciality of mine. Even though I’m standing.” She teased before flipping her blonde hair back over her shoulder, she gave a laugh.

When he asked if she had wanted more too she froze, unsure of how to answer the question that he’d asked. Was she using him for sex? Yes, but had even a tiny part of her wanted more? Maybe, but that wasn’t a reality she ever allowed herself to think of. Ever since they were kids she knew that he was built for greater things than she was, that he was so far out of her league; she had just lucked into his bed time after time. “Why are you doing this?” Avoiding his question completely as she let frustration fill her voice. “It doesn’t matter does it?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest while she protested. Looking away from him and at the wall closest to her so she didn’t get lost in his dark eyes and forget her senses once more. “We’re not more.” She clarified. “We tried that remember? It went well the first time for you right?” While she wanted to apologize for her words the second they came out because she knew it was a low shot, she couldn’t. The more backed into a corner she felt the more she had the urge to run away.

At his words she kept her arms crossed still and just looked down at her shoes, not answering him for a long moment. “You should see me that way.” Everyone in town, including her own mother had saw her that way when she’d left and made it clear to her that she’d been stupid. She’d had such a need to explore and see everything that the world had to offer though, she had. There was a tiny part of her that still missed what the world outside of Lunar Cove had to offer her; but now she was caged to this town. Which had been the exact thing she was running from all those years ago. “You have to take off the rose colored glasses as some point, Altan. Then you can see who I really am behind this all.” Looking up at him with a sad expression, she went to reach out to touch him only to pull her hand back. “I promise you won’t like what you see when they’re off.” Letting her hand drop to her thighs and she rubbed her hands across them, brushing off the want to touch him, before she started to fidget with her rings.

At him pushing back she froze in place because she’d expected him to just give in not fight her back on it. “Then why haven’t you? You could be happy right now you realize that?” She countered back as she turned around on her heels and looked at him. “I’m sure your mother is begging for you to bring someone home so just pick someone else. You’ll be much happier I promise.” She fought back with a plea in her words. While she didn’t want to have to watch him be with someone else, she wanted him to be happy and to have everything he wanted in life, things that she knew that she couldn’t provide him.

Watching as he put the beer down and walked over to her, she sighed softly when his hand came in contact with her face. Looking up at him as she lost herself in his dark eyes and as he went on about how great she was she lost all will power that she had to not take things further between them. Leaning in as he finished his words and she pressed her lips against his for an innocent kiss, only to realize her mistake seconds later. Pulling back quickly before they could take it too far, she looked down as she apologized “I shouldn’t have done that.” She informed him softly with her voice barely over a whisper. It was just that he saw her in a way that she could never see herself, there was something about the way he spoke about her. Like there was a light to her, maybe not everything in the world was her fault.

Listening to his words and she wrapped a hand around his wrist but made no efforts to move his hand from her face. “If you never met me, where would you be right now?” Asking the question that she’d wondered a thousand times. “Be honest.” She begged softly for him to just tell her the truth. “I just need the truth.”

Giving a soft chuckle as he compared her to a Disney Princess and she leaned into him as she buried her head into his chest. Continuing to laugh for a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from him despite how much she knew she should. “I’ll give you the looks.” Letting her hand move from his wrist down to his forearm. “Although Angelina Jolie was Maleficent so that’s proof even a villain can be hot.” Not even bothering to look up at him as her other hand wrapped around him. Slipping under the back of his shirt as she touched his warm skin. “I’m not some princess or some damsel in distresses.” She warned him once more as she found herself looking up at him once more. Letting her eyes fixate on his mouth for a long moment before she leaned in once more. She knew she shouldn’t, but it was likely that this would be the last shot that she got with him and she needed this more than he would ever know. “You don’t have to save me.” Standing on her tip toes as she stood closer to his height, she was leaning against him for support. Giving a soft whine before she reconnected their lips to muffle out the noise, her nails dug into the skin on his back gently. Not wanting to actually hurt him as much as remind him what it felt like when she touched him, how intoxicating it was for both of them.

[finniestoncrane]

I have a plot ging with a friend where Dano!Riddler is in love with Falcone's favorite performer at the club he owns. His delusions are actually right for once- she IS asking for his help, she's scared, and Falcone's hurting her. And all of this has me curious about what your take on this would be?

ok i am here, finally getting to this amazing plot!! i've gone a slightly AU route (me??? ignoring canon timelines??? coudn't be, surely!) with the assumption that eddie was a slow burn killer and not just popping them all off because he wanted to get shit done by election night

please let me know if you're comfortable with me continuing with my take on this because it's something i would maybe consider finishing off!

Tattletale, Dano!Riddler x Female!OC, word count: 1973

reply under here, minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff, mentions of abuse, violence against women, explicit reference to sex work, bit of sexual content and general violence also

Eddie had visited the club every two nights for the past month. He hated it, the sounds, the smells, the sordid nature of the place. His whole body shivered in disgust at the mere thought of the men there, leering, the women, giving themselves away for money at the behest of their disgusting clientele. He was one of them. His reasons for being a frequent visitor were more noble. It wasn’t lust which drove him, but love.

And recently, she had begun to take notice of him. Despite trying to sit in a different place before the main stage each time he was there, he could often see her scanning the crowd for him. He wasn’t ever sure what drew her to him, his stoic face, the respectful way in which he silently watched, or maybe, though unlikely in his mind, she thought he was cute. He was grateful either way, knowing that she at least knew who he was. It filled his heart with fluttering nerves, awaiting that ever-pleasant moment where they might make eye contact, her smile changing from one of stage persona to genuine joy at seeing him there in the crowd.

The club had been his one place of respite since he had begun his…work. Adrenaline would build up and never be expelled after his swift kills. He was in no position to sit around and admire his work, and he tried desperately to keep his life as Gotham’s most confusing and yet revered vigilante separate to the arguably more pathetic Eddie Nashton. And in doing so, had vowed that he wouldn’t bring even the pleasure home with him. But, allowing himself a little leeway, and exercising the true bravado that the mask brought to him, he had gone to the club in the hopes of at least capturing a memory he could take home with him.

No one had come close to approaching her in his mind. He’d learned quickly that she was considered more of a specialty at the club. She was different, thicker, something they considered a niche. And Eddie was very happy to discover that it was a niche he was willing to thrust himself into. He picked up her scheduled performances from the horrible little man at the door and marked them in his calendar when he got home, before quickly and roughly seeing to himself while the memory of her body, wiggling and jiggling enticingly in the hot pink lingerie she had worn was still fresh in his mind.

This evening, he entered with a strange sense of confidence. He’d only hours before completed a stream following the successful murder of yet another of Gotham’s elite and wealthy scum, and he felt very good about himself. He was a very good boy, and very good boys deserved treats. He quickly checked the worn chairs for the best position to sit in, far enough away to avoid suspicion and embarrassment should anyone notice his arousal, but close enough that she could find him when she looked for him among the scum.

He jumped when he felt a hand, gentle and soft on his shoulder. The scent of something sweet, sugary, like bubblegum, wafted around him as he turned to face her.

She was even more beautiful up close. He had worried that maybe the lighting and the distance were concealing some horrible imperfections that would take him kicking and screaming from his fantasy, but it was the opposite. In fact, she looked so innocent, almost wounded, her eyes big and sad, sparkling and wet. She was looking up at him, a slight smile at one corner of her mouth. Suddenly very aware of his vantage point on her body from the height difference between them, Eddie craned his neck to the ceiling, avoiding eye contact, trying to avoid being caught leering at her chest. His gaze was brought back down to hers though as she pulled at his chin, the baby pink silk of her long gloves smooth against his flushed skin.

“What’s your name, hun?”

“It’s uh…Ed-ward..or uh…Ed..E-Eddie.”

He gulped, and she giggled lightly at his nerves, her fingers running over his lips and tracing his jaw lightly.

“Eddie, huh? That’s sweet. It suits you.”

He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. He stood, idiotic, in a complete daze. Unable to blink, he maintained uncomfortable eye contact with her, noticing that she only broke it to look expectedly and almost nervously to the sides, as though she were watching for someone.

“I’ve seen you a lot Eddie, noticed you in here. Always at my shows. I just wanted to thank you for your patronage, show you I appreciate the customer loyalty.”

She was smiling wide, encouraging a small twitch at the corner of Eddie’s mouth, his face unable to act casually.

“Ahem…y-you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense!” Her finger was on his lips, hushing him. Her other hand was grabbing his, fingers entwined as she began to pull him forwards, her walking back to a dimly lit corridor he had never noticed before. “It’s my pleasure, Eddie. Come with me.”

She turned, still holding his hand, too tight for him to wiggle free. Too stunned to argue, Eddie’s feet kept up with her, albeit clumsily, while his mind raced and screamed at him to turn around and apologise for ever bothering this poor, sweet creature. But before he’d regained the brain cells it required to form any kind of sentence, she had already led him into a room, dimly lit in purple, the hues of which were shimmering on her silk bodysuit and gloves. He was in a private room, and his nerves caught in a lump in his throat.

“I don’t…I’m s-so s-sorry, I didn’t bring…I don’t th-think I have enough…c-cash to…”

“This is a freebie, Eddie.” She winked at him, looking towards the door again before pushing his shoulders and dropping him down into the couch he hadn’t even noticed was behind him. She began stroking his hair, his cheek, fingers tracing his collarbones below his shirt. His common sense, desperately trying to consider how many disgusting fluids were seeped into the sofa he was sitting on, was drowned out by his complete mystified arousal at what was happening to him. Everything felt like a dream, the lighting, the gentle music, the way her skin looked, reflecting the purple tones and casting shadows along her curves.

She brought her hand to Eddie’s, guiding him to her upper thigh, where she held it in place long enough for him to get the idea that he shouldn’t pull back. Nervously, he let his fingers softly trail along the skin they could reach, not daring to go any further or move his hand around. Although, he didn’t have to, as she swerved her hips in hypnotic motions that let his palm glide across her, up her thigh, towards her hips, around the curve of her rear. He could feel the strain in his pants, breath hitching as she continued to move under him, standing over his legs and looking deeply into his eyes.

“I’ve seen you around a lot Eddie. Not just here.”

He was too dazed by her movements to question it. Nothing in his mind worked anymore.

“I think everyone’s seen you by now. You’re talk of the town, for sure.”

Everyone…in the club? What was she saying? Did it make sense, or was he just so drunk on love, no blood actually making its way around his body and to his brain, all of it collecting at his stupidly hard cock, which twitched at the way the words came out of her mouth.

“I know who you are, Eddie. And I want you to help me.”

He could help her, he could give her whatever she needed. Sure, he was a bit unpractised, but what he lacked in experience he could more than make up for in feral obsessiveness, a desire for nothing more than to please her so thoroughly that she might love him back.

She lowered herself onto his lap, pressing herself onto his stiff and rigid cock, eliciting a whimper from his lips that she giggled gently at, quieting him with a soft and quick kiss before her hands reached behind her back. She was taking off her bodysuit. He had never seen so much of her before, she tended to dance and tease, not like the rest of the harlots who were so willing to give themselves entirely to the strangers in the pits. She was wholesome, pure, and was giving herself to just him.

But panic set in as he realised he was actually losing himself at the mere thought of seeing her breasts, bare and in front of him. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge and the last thing he wanted was to cum in his pants, a pathetic little man in front of a goddess he had admired and dreamt about solidly for a month of his life. He reached up to grab at her, but it was too late.

She dropped the ties that had been around her neck and back to the sides of her hips, and Eddie’s breath shuddered as he took her in, face flushing a bright pink before he looked quickly to her eyes, trying not to be caught like some horny school boy. And he was met with fear, concerned immediately that his obvious staring had upset her. He began to stutter an apology, trying to stand up against his weak knees and hard cock, which proved to be an effort he couldn’t muster in his current state.

“Eddie, I need you to help me.”

“I…I d-don’t think…there must be someone else who is better…I don’t know if I’m any g-good-”

“Eddie, look.”

He had been so focused on not staring at her breasts, large and soft, heaving just inches away from him, that it took him a few seconds to digest her command and bring his eyes back to them. It was only then that he noticed the deep bruising around the sides of each breast, the purple and yellow markings trailing down her sides and clustered around her stomach.

“I don’t…”

“Falcone. You never wondered why I’m always clothed on stage?”

Eddie was smart enough to realise that now wasn’t the moment to potentially embarrass himself by admitting he just thought she was of a higher moral calibre than the other girls who worked at Falcone’s club.

“I recognised you, third time you came in. From your videos.”

What did she mean by his videos? It was impossible. She couldn’t.

“I thought, if anyone could help me. Maybe the Riddler could?”

Eddie’s brain pounded in his head, fear and panic rising in his stomach, his erection falling almost instantly as bile built up in his throat and his body threatened to expel all liquids before collapsing.

“I…I’m n-not…”

“Don’t deny it. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“N-no. Of course not!”

“Well then, will you help me.” She pressed a kiss to him again, longer this time, with more passion and feeling than before. He mewled into her, confusion down to his very soul.

“I can’t. I…I don’t think-”

“Well, let me put it this way. I’m Falcone’s girl. His number one. There are cameras all through this place, y’know? At the front, in the entrance, by the stage, and just outside in the corridor. He knows you came in here with me. And no one gets to come in here with me.”

Eddie felt warm, too warm. Sweat was forming on his brow under his bedraggled hair, his glasses steaming up as his hot and quick breaths made their way shakily out of his mouth.

“Once Falcone knows, you’ll be on his list. So you better get to him before he gets to you.”

[sips-tea-cutely]

SO I'VE ACTYALLY NEVER MADE A GENSHIN REQUEST BUT WHY NOT, IF MOD IBUKI'S ASKING

Can I request Venti comforting a depressed reader? Maybe a reader going through bullying based on their appearance (chubbiness in my case)

Thank you in advance!!

Venti comforting a bullied!reader

a/n: YES YES YES OKAY OKAY I GOT THIS!! also i apologize if these are inaccurate or are harmful/hurtful towards other people. and if you feel insecure or is actually getting bullied, try not hesitate to reach out to people about this problem. -ibuki

cw: mentions of ed

a/n 2: ugh she never finished it smh!!!! 🤬🤬🤬🤬 cant trust these hoes anymore looking for a new wife…. -maki

walking down the steps towards your house, today was such a good day— maybe he could really pay master diluc for a bottle of dandelion wine this time!~ "haaah, today had quite the audience!! hmm ehehe i cant wait to see my blume-"

"--really think that sweet innocent bard would want someone like you?"

venti stopped in his tracks and directed his attention towards the hostile voice. he hid somehwere nearby in order to see who was the victim because, being venti, he was obviously going to help, until— he saw a familiar lock of hair out the corner of his eye.

his eyes shot open once he realized,

you were the victim.

"honestly i bet the bard just wants you for your voice. theres no way he would want you for your... appearance. plus! you dont even sound that good so really, you’d be nothing but a nuisance to him."

his blume was getting harassed by "some self-obsessed bitch", the new nickname given to your harasser.

he was furious, FURIOUS. the winds matching his mood, it started swaying with an unforgiving speed. but he had to calm down since he knew you’d know it was him causing the wind, thus would give away his hiding spot.

for about 30 minutes or so, he had to watch his beloved get bashed and slandered, every minute making it harder not for him to go straight to the two of you and feed the narcissist to dvalin. god, her voice was so high-pitched, it’s almost like she’s doing it on purpose.

to restrain his anger, venti went straight home midway and set up a lamplit dinner with his specialty, a barbatos ratatouille!!

while waiting for you, he had been left alone with his thoughts, the thoughts of a lackluster god

he should have known. this was the reason all along, she was the reason.

the reason behind your paranoia of calories and carbs, the times you’d often go without any food until dinner, your obsession with weight-loss drugs, and frequent outings to take jogs.

he knew that wasn't who you really were, no out of everything, you were confident in yourself, body positive and not taking shit from anyone. so, why?

why didnt he do anything?

it was the reason, the reason behind your small smiles, barely audible giggles, and refusal of doing any music gigs with him.

he should have known.

because you always had the biggest smile and always, always loved to sing with him.

he—

click!

the door opened for him to see you at the doorway announcing your arrival.

"AH! MY BLUME! how was your day?" he ran up to you like a golden retriever reunited with its’ owner.

you smiled softly.

‘theres that smile again. that fake, fake smile.’ he thought.

"hello venti. you made dinner tonight?” you gasp at the beautiful ratatouille. “im surprised the house isnt on fire yet." you giggle softly.

"well, i had a feeling that i should make some food tonight!! my audience sure loved todays performance and my happiness is still trying to wear off. i might become too prideful, hehe~"

he pulled your chair back for you to sit, like a gentleman would. you kindly took the gesture and sat down as he pushed the chair back forward, and went to his own seat.

2 minutes in, he broke the silence.

"how was your day today?"

you smiled.

"today was splendid. i got to go out of mondstadt for a walk and enjoy nature. enjoy life while it lasts, you know?"

ah.

life while it lasts.

he was immortal, you werent, he remembered.

his lips slightly curved upwards.

"i get it, did you meet anyone along the way?"

he wanted the truth out of you, even if he had to be sneaky about it.

“oh yes! i managed to come across flora and have a little chat with her about her flowers, my, she’s quite an entrepreneur for a little girl!” your lips curve at the memory of your conversation with the young florist.

venti was pissed. at what? it could be anything at this point; at you for not telling him you needed help, at himself for not figuring it out sooner, at her for causing you so much grief.

“i know you’re being bullied.” he said. he sounded so bold and confident it was almost out of character for him to act like this. did you really matter that much to him?

“i get if you don’t want me to get involved, i guess… but at least, please tell captain kaeya about this. personally, blume, i think you’re beautiful the way you are. ill support you if you really do want to change something about your appearance but please don’t do it because you don’t fit some sort of beauty standard. isn’t monstadt all about your freedom, dear?”

your hands were shaking and your eyes looked everywhere, anywhere for a distraction. “i- well…it’s true i don’t want you to get involved cause only celestia know what you’ll do to her but… yeah, ill tell kaeya about it tomorrow but for now…” you say before grabbing his delicate palm, the heat of the lamp shining brightly.

“i want to spend time with my favorite bard.”

that smile. it’s not fake anymore, your blushed cheeks are scrunched up from joy. finally, you understand what he has always meant.

no matter what will happen, he’ll always be there to comfort you, until death will do part.