#sometimes even plays along

[redsray]

I love the idea of the Wayne kids dropping extremely vague and disturbing comments during galas. Especially when in uncomfortable situations or if they're just bored. They pull out things from their nightlife too. Other times they just make shit up.

Socialite: Oh, dear, your cheeks look so sullen! Who sucked the life out of you?

Tim, dead serious: An old man with a goatee.

Socialite: Uh... what?

Dick: Once I broke my knee so badly that I swear I could see part of the bone sticking out.

Socialite: Good lord. How on earth did that happen?

Dick: Just clumsy gymnast things ^^

Socialite: The white streak is certainly a bold fashion choice.

Jason: I saw someone get decapitated once, so I could be doing worse in terms of what's on my head, yknow? At least I have one.

Socialite: What's your favourite colour, sweetie?

Damian: Red.

Socialite: Oh that's lovely!

Damian: Like the blood of my enemies.

Socialite: Oh.

Socialite: You must be new to these kind of events.

Duke: Uh, yeah, they're kind of scary. But I've had worse.

Socialite: Worse.

Duke: Well I've been left on top of a skyscraper before with no way down just to 'get over my fear of heights' so, yes.

Socialite: You don't talk very loud, do you? I can barely hear you.

Cass, with a straight face: If I spoke any louder every glass in the room would shatter.

Tim, behind her: I can vouch.

[claypigeonpottery]

ahhhh 😌

the relief of getting to build pottery again after… like three weeks 😬

finally starting on some commissions I’ve had on my whiteboard since 2024! feels good

[syn0vial]

regrettably, neither is them being even a little bit ironic

[mohntilyet]

let me be clear i like veilguard but it does suck that no one disapproves anymore outside of like. three choices. i want to be fighting for my life earning approval back again someone has GOT to hate my ass. i should be careful about party composition and companion reactions again. i miss tactically taking fenris out of the party before i'm nice to merrill like those were the days

[estrangedandwayward]

Okay but like do you think the flight home after driftmark was fun? Like yeah aemond just lost an eye and they're all in huge trouble but once their up in the air, all three of them on dragon back together for the first time, would that even matter? I bet they were doing tricks and seeing who could fly the fastest, yelling things at eachother and laughing. They're kids, and we know that they all love their dragons, and I just can't imagine they weren't thrilled to finally be able to fly together

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

literally the easiest way to make someone care about a character and make them feel well-rounded beyond basic traits like personality, sexuality, ethnicity, etc, is to give them an actual character arc, and it’s shocking how many people do not seem to fully realize this

you cannot just cram a bunch of tropes. tropes are not the main event, they are tools to tell the story you wish to tell. emotional impact comes from the lead up, so you can’t just jump ahead and expect the payoff to work. “I want this character to just ___ already!” but they’re not there yet. that’s where the arc comes in - how do they get there?

and! most importantly, and this is something I really want people to think about when writing - the most important relationship your character should have, always, is with the world and society around them. defining your character purely through their interactions with other characters are, I find, how a lot of female characters end up feeling flat or not engaging with the themes as much as the male characters, and also how queer and non-white characters wind up as devices for other characters’ development instead of being more fleshed out

[thegreatyin]

giggling kicking my feet blushing madly

[javierduffy]

sometimes i make myself emotional by thinking about how special it must be to javier that the gang at the very least somewhat learned cielito lindo for him so that they could sing along but now im doubling it by thinking about how kieran may gingerly wander up when javier is quietly plucking at the strings of his guitar, tuning them by ear and relishing in the comfort of the body vibrating hums through the meat of his thighs. kieran will politely sit on a nearby unused bedroll, knees tucked close to his body as though taking up less space is the respectful thing to do, and he’ll point to the instrument in javier’s lap.

“where’d you learn that, mister ?”

javier finds the spindly finger in his peripheral vision, follows it up to the brunette’s nervous face. he offers green eyes an extra glance, and he can see them soften like he’d given himself away already. damn.

“i learned it at home. in mexico, music is a very special thing. we use it to tell stories, history, to communicate with one another. mexico speaks music first, and spanish second. nearly every mexican can play at least a handful of instruments- i couldn’t tell you which one i played first and who it was that taught it to me. by now, it’s like a part of my body, just like it is a part of my soul.”

kieran nods along as javier continues to mindlessly poke and prod at the strings of his guitar, and he finds himself relaxing in a way that he’d never been able to around the man. maybe because javier himself seemed to be so content with his guitar in his lap. like a chef in a kitchen or a mariner at sea, javier brought home to him when the sounds he played echoed through wood and sang loud to his typical audience of outlaws. the crease around his eyes tells kieran that he asked about the right subject- though it seems that escuella is just as good at playing heartstrings as he is guitar strings, with the way that he can feel his blood loudly thrumming in his chest.

“could you maybe… teach me sometime too ?”

the way javier rears his head at the question makes kieran jolt- prey spooked wild in the dark eyes of a predator- though the recognition of excitement (as much as javier attempts to conceal it with apprehension) smooths his bristles back down again.

javier teaches kieran every song he knows, from the ones with all the lyrics he soothes or excites the camp with, to the lulls of wordless melodies that sailed the boat north with him. kieran is good with his hands, and attentive to his every action, so he learns quick and easy, though he’ll never sing a word, even if he could memorize the spanish (and even though he already has a lot of them simply by having dutifully listened to javier sing every night that he could). considers himself a flat dud when it comes to singing. javier is curious, but he’ll never press. often he’s too busy reveling in the sound of home emanating from kieran’s fingers plucking desert lullabies, songs javier thought he’d only ever get to hear from himself.

it hits different, to simply get to listen. to put your boots up on a log and enjoy the ride. he’d been the driver for so long that javier forgot how beautiful the scenery was. he’s grateful that kieran asked him to teach him how to play guitar- he finds himself nearly indulging the idea that when kieran practices or plays, he’s playing javier’s music for javier, and not because it’s the only music he knows. he finds it all too romantic, but the warmth that the idea brings to his skin is just as familiar as the mexican sun, and it aches in his heart how comforting those moments are.

kieran, on the other hand, in his soft, sunken heart, is absolutely playing javier’s music for javier. he can see how the notes have always danced along his smile lines as he sings or hums along to the sound. he’s always seen how protective of his guitar he is. he watches closely as javier plays even when no one is listening, and kieran more than anyone understands just how special something has to be for it to never grace the stage of another’s perception. and kieran, so knee-deep in his affection, wants to give javier the gift of comfort- a form of it so free he may feel he just robbed it from a corpse.

kieran becomes quite good, and javier becomes quite comfortable. often, in the direction of a billow of campfire smoke, you will hear the wordless song of guitar strings, accompanied by the howling gritos of love and grief.

[crescentfool]

having the hc that minato is ace is incredibly funny sometimes when you think about how ryoji is oh so very bi because it's like. "ah. death stole my ability to be attracted to people," in the same way that ryoji stole minato's eye color and energy level. like wow, thanks ryoji, you just keep finding things to steal from minato!

[ohsweetflips]

my neutral dragon age trait is that 50% of the time i'm like "the more i critique the games, the more i love them. i can appreciate each game for what they are but my criticism and frustration over what they could be are a sign of love" and the other 50% is like "this is the writing of the dragon age series. sure. why not. this may as well happen."

[midnightmindcave]

we learned that the cat we adopted a couple of years ago was the ‘cool babysitting uncle’ of his colony so we finally got him a kitten

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneeping with his legs up over his head for some reason... weird boye

[virsancte]

good days aren't easy to come by

[autisticlee]

I have this problem where my brain thinks if someone is nice to me enough times and I put in enough effort, that means we are friends and I can talk to them in a friendly way, like joking around, asking questions to get to know them more, offering things friends would, etc, but then I always get severely disappointed when they don't reciprocate or have a bad reaction to it. it always punches me in the gut and is so upsetting and disheartening. I could try for many months to be friends, thinking it's mutual, and think we reached that point, but then they tear it all down with one sentence.

it always feels so bad to know I have to walk on a thin rope while interacting with people because I am incapable of reading their intentions and feelings. I never know how someone feels about me or how they see me. I never know where I stand with them.

people don't make it a habit to let you know they consider you a friend, and they always find it weird and inappropriate when you ask them. if you can't read people like me, you're stuck always wondering, always guessing, always incorrect. you can accidentally offend someome who considered you friends for years because they never explicitly told you until you make the wrong comment. or you can creep someome out by acting too friendly after months or even years of assuming you were good friends.

when you always have to walk on eggshells, never knowing the truths, never being able to read people, not being able to ask, and never getting answers you need.....it just leads to living life as if you are alone in a fish bowl, watching everyone around you, but never quite able to reach them through the glass....it's never fun to constantly be knocking on that glass, waiting for the eventual break that will shatter your world into pieces and cut you deep. even if it's just a crack, you have to spend a lot of time repairing it, alone.

they say you don't have to worry about these things if you find the right fish to swim with. find the "the right people." they say it's easy and you walk on solid, safe ground, rather than tread endlessly in the water until you sink and drown... "there's plenty of fish in the sea" perhaps. but what if you're the only fish in the bowl? what if you can't taste the salty sea? what if all you can do is watch through the glass as everyone passes you by with barely a glance? what if you dont find your school to swim with? how do you accept and prepare for that? in a world of possibilities, that is always a possible outcome. it's natural to fear or ponder such an outcome. no one wants to admit that it can happen. and no one seems to have the answers for how to swim on alone in that bowl, always yearning to swim with other fish in the sea.....how does a fish be content in a small bowl alone, even if the sea is more than just a dream?

[sircesimblr]

At first everyone cheered, then they all became quiet, as Jaromir lit the fire they all longed for dearly. Even though the day had been hot, this warmth was something else.

"A touch of civilization," Louelle Anna said. "Finally."

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