#the background is so low effort I am sorry

[artandbrimstone]

hey everett james petalbridge what are you doing over there

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

Who are the ballad brothers I have seen you tag them on a variety of posts and I am intrigued

THREE MONTHS LATE BUT HERE WE GO!!! I also did a post about this ages ago which I’ll link HERE but! There’s been a lot of development since then!!!

This is going to get long. Sorry in advance. (Also I’m keeping it to just the Ballad Brothers themselves (and co) but lmk if you also want to know about the saints! They’re not at all relevant to the main plot (two and a half exceptions) but they live rent free in my head)

TLDR. Little guys took up residence in my head when I listened to music in the car and it’s become a whole scifantasy worldbuilding exercise.

Anyway!

KYRIE ALEIDIS BALLAD

- she/her

- 29 years old

- 5’11 (and a half)

- Massive Fucking Tech Sword

- Enneagram 8w7 if you’re an enneagram guy

- she is YOUNG she’s FANTASTIC she’s GOD’S FAVORITE and she’s NEVER GOING TO DIE

- The main character!

- She is the city (symbolic) and her name is god

- Former sword-for-hire/star player/golden girl/mascot/diversity hire (whatever you want to call it) for evil organization(tm) Rekah’s Finest

- (named after St Rekah of the Guard)(think somewhere between the CIA and the Pinkertons)(National guard type of thing that staged a very quiet coup/government takeover about a decade before Kyrie was born and is gradually got to the point where they’re running the city-state where this all takes place as a police state)

- current renegade and aspiring vigilante

- she fucked off the minute she turned 18 to join the metaphorical army/become a cop (same difference)(except there’s also regular cops and they kind of suck shit) and very quickly became very good at it!

- wound up as essentially the Special Little Guy they have as the face of the organization doing a lot of like. Public outreach and shit. Also doing a lot of assassinations inside and outside of the city

- A few years before the story starts she Realized Some Things about how her and Alonzo were orphaned and quit her job EXTREMELY publicly and extremely dramatically and left with nothing but her Massive Fucking Tech Sword and the clothes on her back and fucked off to go hide/live in a massive tower monument at the center of town

- It’s… legally difficult to get her out of there due to the historical site preservation regulations so she’s just been kind of vibing there ever since

- Theoretically. She’s trying to take down the RF and get them Out Of Her Damn City

- In practice she’s one singular burnout and has no idea how the hell to go about doing that so she’s mostly just hanging out in the tower and evading arrest

- She’s a fuck boy dirt bag piece of shit (etc etc etc) and I love her for it

- She gets no bitches despite being a local celebrity with one of The Fanbases Ever (she would do numbers on scifantasy Twitter) bc She’s So Sucks <3

- (no bitches except she does have a weird homoerotic thing going w her roommate/childhood best friend who’s kind of a reincarnation of St Ely who built the city and lives in the tower)(she’s not looking at it)(she’s got bigger problems called Avoiding Confronting Any Emotion bc if she looks at any of them she’ll have to process all of the Guilt she has irt. Pretty much abandoning her baby brother on the streets to go be a hero and then Never Contacting Him Again)

ALONZO BALLAD

- he/him

- 25

- 5’4

- two regular guns

- Kyrie’s aforementioned baby brother!

- Enneagram 3w4 which if you were friends w me 2019-2021 you’ll know exactly how much that says everything you need to know about this guy (derogatory)

- Most repressed mfer on the planet and a neurotic little freak

- Considers himself to be the only guy in this found family with a braincell. (Untrue, even if you don’t count An)

- His first instinct in a lot of situations is Improv Theater. (Seeing his sister for the first time in more than ten years? Better wear a hood and prepare a whole dramatic reveal about it. Ran into the guy he kissed at the office holiday party while trying to get his expense account wrangled for an upcoming assignment? Time to launch into an extended bit about how he’s so sad and poor and he’s gonna starve and freeze to death all alone on the street and Only They have the power to help him. please.)(they think it’s hilarious but jfc what’s wrong with him)

- The main issue with him is that he gets his apartment and all of his necessities directly from his employer, so his first priority at all times is Preserve His Job At All Costs

- He thinks of the way he lives as self care. I think of it as masochism.

- His main idea of a Life Plan from the ages of 15-his early 20s was Look At What His Older Sister Did And Then Do It Too

- (his main idea of a life plan from the ages of 3-20 was Don’t Get In Trouble Ever or They Will Come And Kill You To Death)(these are not especially compatible philosophies.)

- So he’s a sword-for-hire (gun for hire. And not even a fancy tech one. They’re not trusting any more Ballad brothers with any more expensive technology.)

- This is not working out well for him. he’s not overwhelmingly good at the job. He doesn’t find any purpose in killing people. He doesn’t even like blood.

- He is, however, very good at following orders. But only when he wants to.

- He’s also very good at Lying To His Boss’s Boss

- They keep sending him to try and assassinate Kyrie as like. Kind of a power move? Trying to show her that they’ve got her only family at their beck and call and they can make him do whatever they want

- Unfortunately Alonzo has no interest in killing her so those missions pretty much just wind up with him going to hang out in the tower and shoot shit for a couple days and then going back and turning on the big sad wet eyes for his report to tell them that he did his best he really did but she’s always been stronger and he just couldn’t take her— but he’ll do better next time he promises 🥺🥺🥺

- Kyrie had been their best guy for several years and Alonzo is, in all other regards, the perfect employee (turns in all his paperwork ahead of time, does every other mission very efficiently and never gets caught, goes to all the company mixers even though everyone can tell he’s exhausted, always has his uniform meticulously clean and pressed) so this is plausible, and they go “aww okay better luck next time :) go get some rest :)”

- Also he’s lowkey a hostage here. What are they gonna do? Fire him? No they need him for leverage

- It drives his immediate supervisor who knows EXACTLY what’s going on up the fucking wall. We will get to them.

- Gets Fucking Shot With A Cheater Bullet (very small timed action grenade) on an assignment midway through the story and his first instinct (instead of going back to the office where they have like. Actual doctors and medical equipment to deal with that) is to head to St Ely’s tower, where they have his sister and his kind of boyfriend and also his sister’s roommate who can sew and his childhood buddy Jonesie down the street who knows first aid

- He’s not thinking especially straight due to the Panic and also the Blood Loss from the Bullet In His Ribcage and he’s got a whole emotional thing about how he wants to die at home w his people— and then it goes off and he Fucking Dies. Whoops!

- He gets better his boyfriend (for real now lmao) is an aspiring necromancer and God’s Pet Freak (there’s a lot. Behind that. more later) and he very pointedly doesn’t believe in magic or saints or anything but also his chest cavity did very much get exploded and he’s fine now (besides the lingering Effects) so like.

- He deals with this by 1. Contacting his supervisor who lets the higher ups know there’s been An Incident. 2. Going back to work as soon as they’ll let him (like three days later). and 3. Getting himself transferred to the security division and becoming Ari’s dad’s bodyguard so he doesn’t have an excuse to go hang out at the tower anymore and he doesn’t have to look at any of those emotions he can just Focus on his Work <3

- Obviously that does not go well for him.

SENECA “ARI” FINCH

- they/them/any

- 25

- 5’2

- Enneagram 5w6

- Mad scientist

- Nepo baby

- Front desk intern for the RF financial department

- Aspiring necromancer

- God’s Pet Freak

- If you’ve ever wondered what happens when you raise a child in one of those beige instagrammable influencer houses. It’s this.

- Their dad is the puppet city governor for the RF (Kyrie wants him dead so goddamn bad)(he’s kind of a useless twink but he’s an easy guy to blame for all this shit)

- Their mom died when they were like 8 of something pretty regular and they have since dedicated pretty much their entire life to Bringing Her Back

- (No they were not especially close or anything why do you ask?)

- TECHNICALLY their dad, knowing their passion for Science (and not much else about them) got them a cushy RF job developing biotech to make the cool individualized tech weapons

- In practice, they got their funding and their fancy work lab and immediately proceeded to squirrel just about everything useful from it downstairs to their own personal lab in the basement (not on the floor plan) where they don’t have to worry about things like “supervision” “safety regulations” “proper ventilation” “their job” etc

- They are still doing their job but they’re getting it done in like. Two days out of the month and spending literally all the rest of their time on the necromancy

- It’s gotten to the point where they’re not even clocking in upstairs anymore so they made them take a couple shifts a week at the front desk of the financial department just so they have something on record to pay them for

- They’re okay with this! it’s fun to switch it up and there’s snacks in the breakroom

- I cannot emphasize enough how much they Do Not Leave the horrifying unventilated unethical science basement. there’s a couch in the corner and a sink and an employee bathroom in the stairwell what more could they need.

- One of the early plotlines is centered around Getting Them To Go Outside (really outside, not just to the regular parts of the RF building) and like. Idk. Maybe seeing a leaf or smth would be good for them)

- where they also wind up meeting and hanging out w Kyrie and El, doing some upkeep on Kyrie’s fancy sword, and being Absolutely Fascinated by St Ely’s Tower (there’s some generally buried Magic Shit that perks up when them and El are in the room together)

- BECAUSE!!! (And this is why they haven’t succumbed to the Fumes in the horrifying unventilated unethical science basement, or the gas leak in there from the pipe main running through the middle of it that they’ve been siphoning off of, or any of the experiments they do on themself bc they can’t get any other test subjects and also bc they wouldn’t trust anyone else’s testimony as to What It’s Like) the magic, which is how Ely built the city (and how all of the other saints Did Their Things as well but that’s a whole other can of worms) is a vapor that lives underground and speaks no human language but saw this little freak trying to defy the laws of nature from their hole in the ground and took a liking to them

- It can’t bring their mom back bc she’s been dead for fifteen years and it never met her so it wouldn’t even know where to start

- But it likes them! It follows them around and keeps them alive and helps with their experiments :)

- (they remind it of Saint Ely, who was a similarly tiny passionate freak, but that’s also a whole other can of worms)

- Ari is not aware of this in the slightest.

- Their second arc is getting Disappeared from legal existence (very easy. They live in a basement and barely ever leave it and don’t really talk to people), realizing that they are in fact mortal and could potentially die someday, and trying to contact their dad to make sure he knows they’re okay. (Doesn’t work. They’ve been disappeared and are no longer allowed past the front desk.)

- Their third arc (during the communal breakdown era. Kyrie’s abandoned by god arc where she decides to run away from her problems in a literal sense and Alonzo’s evil arc where stops speaking to everybody and dives headfirst into his job at the war crimes factory) is deciding that the same thing happened to their mom and the necromancy isn’t working because she’s NOT actually dead which means she’s out there somewhere and they can find her! :)

- That is not even a little bit true. :(

EL (no last name)

- he/him (woman)

- Doesn’t really have an age. They don’t really exist in time in the usual sense

- 5’0

- Enneagram 9w1

- Lives in the tower

- Just kind of showed up there one day as a kid and has been living there ever since

- There’s a nearby convent of some kind that fed and clothed them growing up (same place that looked after Kyrie and Alonzo after they were orphaned)

- Kind of a reincarnation of Saint Ely. not in so many steps bc again. Out of time and who knows how long he’s been there but like. He’s back for more but he’s a lady with an ounce of common sense this time. It’s unclear how much he’s aware of this part of it. He knows the tower is important, and he knows restoring the murals inside of it is important. I don’t think he knows why.

- only guy in this found family who’s even remotely capable of coping with the idea of death (he already did that)(kind of psychopomp coded about it)

- Kyrie’s best friend and second in command so much as she has a command. Weird homoerotic gay thing going on there. I assume there’s some of the traditional St Ely brand of devotion but like

- (And by traditional I mean I don’t think that’s a widely known thing about Ely the Saint but it is one of the more prominent things about Ely the Guy)

- Spends most of his time restoring the tower and the murals inside that nobody has seen in years

- (That’s a whole thing)(different can of worms)

- This is @nosongunsung11’s guy so I’ll tap them in for the details but I think that’s the basics!!

AN “PUNK” JANG

- they/them (lesbian)(in gender moreso than practice)

- 35 but they’re lying about it. actually 33

- 5’5

- Enneagram 1w2 😬

- Twin fancy tech rapiers

- The previous Special Little Guy/Mascot/face of the RF

- Ran away from home, changed their name, and lied about their age to join up when they were 16 and they’ve just kind of been going off that ever since

- Went by Punk for a while towards the beginning of their career bc they were 16/17 and it Sounded Cool and it would up becoming almost like their callsign (that’s what Alonzo calls them bc he was very much an enjoyer when he was a kid. They were like Spider-Man to him. Blorbo from the news.)(and he continues to call them that bc he’s a little shit.)

- (They wound up naming themselves after Saint Anjane of Strength not because they believe in any saints but because they desperately wish they did and this way at least they can pretend they know what it might feel like to have that kind of faith.)(in a fun and funky coincidence, they’re actually very very similar to Saint Anjane herself. El has some Complicated Emotions about this.)(long story. It’s Saint Ely’s Monument but it’s also the closest thing he has to a grave— he pulled it out of the ground so he could be alone w/ Anje’s body after he got to her execution too late to talk her out of it)

- Got shunted when Kyrie showed up and was infinitely more personable due to her heroics in SciFantasy 9/11 (long story. Building exploded.) and general bright-eyed and bushy tailed unjaded Disposition

- And by shunted I mean promoted to middle management in the Murder Department

- They’re fine with this it’s significantly less work on their end

- They do make sure after that to have everything they need for basic living separated from the job though

- Only guy in this found family with their own actual apartment. And basic cooking skills. And healthy sleep schedule.

- When Alonzo gets into the Murder Department they wind up as his immediate supervisor!

- Exciting prospect at first! He’s a high profile assignment (hostage) and also an easy assignment (does all of his paperwork on time, completes his missions Quietly and Efficiently, doesn’t really do anything interesting at all)

- Less exciting prospect once they actually work with him. He’s a little shit and a motherfucker and he knows exactly what he’s doing

- They can’t stop covering for him at this point without doing a hell of a lot of paperwork and jeopardizing their own job so they’re stuck now

- Also. unfortunately. they got attached. They’re not the step-older sibling, they’re the older sibling who stepped up.

- They’re the one who arrests Kyrie at the beginning of the story and kick off the whole first half of the plot, but they also wind up putting in their two weeks after Alonzo Gets Fucking Killed and then immediately goes back to work

- They do it significantly better than Kyrie tho they keep their apartment and their bank account and return most of their uniforms so the rf doesn’t have any reason to come after them besides Aiding and Abetting (and also trespassing. On the protected historical site that is St Ely’s monument. But that’s the least of anyone’s worries here.)

- They wind up kind of taking charge of the. whatever the hell these guys are doing. during the Communal Breakdowns arc. they would really prefer not to be doing this but somebody has to. So.

- Also during that arc they wind up facing off with Alonzo and boy howdy is there a reason they got assigned as the rf’s Special Little Guy and he didn’t, bc he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell even with them holding back

AND THAT’S THE MAIN CAST! Thank you for coming to my ted talk! (Get it?) I’ve hit the image limit on mobile so I’ll come back and add the before/after pictures in a reblog bc I had fun making those

[chelseeebe]

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 

-

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 

holy fuck. 

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,�� waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 

okay maybe he was being a little weird. 

who cares? 

definitely not eddie. 

-

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 

fuck fuck fuck. 

why does this keep happening? 

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 

nothing major. 

-

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 

had he done something wrong? 

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 

nothing. not even a twitch. 

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no. 

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 

just as he deserved. 

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 

-

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 

he can’t stand it. 

you have to go. 

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 

shit. 

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person. 

but so were you. 

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 

that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 

-

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 

oh shit. 

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 

wait wait wait. 

you liked him? 

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be. 

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 

-

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 

shit, maybe he was. 

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 

but that wasn’t it. 

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 

-

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 

you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 

there’s only one place he can think about going. 

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 

because that was it, really. 

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 

woah. 

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

-

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it. 

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 

-

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 

[thewitchblue]

"Why'd he send you?"

Bruce asked bluntly, his Batman suit on with his gaggle of children evasdropping in the background not-so-subtly. I quirked an unamused eyebrow at the bulky man in front of me.

"It just so happens that I owed Constantine a favour. Do you want my help, or do you want to deal with your little demon friend all by yourself?"

Batman huffs an amused laugh. This is the best demonologist Constantine claims in the world? Red Robin asked Nightwing in a mutter,

"I'm not seeing things, am I?"

Apparently, he didn't think I'd hear him. I smirked as I turned my attention to the older Robin. He nervously shifted his weight when my intense gaze watches him, before becoming a bit panicked once he realized he physically cannot move away from me as I approach. I eye him up-and-down with appreciation before saying,

"You're cute, Little Red. Let's get coffee sometime. After I banish this fucker, of course."

This seemed to surprise everyone in the cave, but my focus was back to the demon Batman managed to get an attachment to.

"Now, how did you manage to get this fucker attached to you? Were you feeling especially lonely and struck a deal?"

I eye Batman curiously. Red Hood chuckles in amusement, but I choose to ignore him. There is a weird tension in the room when Red Hood and Batman make eye contact, so I clear my throat loudly to draw attention back to me as I study the cage that the demon is currently trapped in it. He managed to isolate and contain the demon, so that's a start. He sighs and explains,

"No, I'm not lonely enough to stoop so low."

I give an acknowledging hum. My eyes stay trained on the demon. It was rattling the cage it was imprisoned in, hissing and cursing at me while I approach it.

"Let's just ask the demon then, shall we?"

I stop in front of the demon and ask it,

"Now, what deal did you two make?"

The demon merely growled in response. I growl back at it, reaching into its body and squeezing its heart until it whimpered. I hiss,

"Answer me."

Its gravelly voice said,

"I was promised a new body by an alternative Batman. Clearly, I made a wrong turn."

I purred as I released my grip,

"Good boy."

Batman frowned in thought, but stayed silent by my side. He seemed to already have an idea of who struck the deal.

"Now, which Batman promised you this wanker?"

The demon snarls,

"He goes by Owlman. He merely promised me a Batman."

I give a thoughtful hum as I fully remove my hand from its heart, wiping off the dark blood from my hand.

"Well, that turned out swimmingly for you, didn't it?"

It snarled in response to my false sympathy. Red Hood snorts at my antics. He seemed to be entertained by the entire situation.

"Well, it appears your little deal wasn't fully thought out. I'm sending you back. Next time, possess Owlman instead."

I murmur my spell softly to myself before snapping in a particular pattern. The demon howled before it dissipates like mere smoke. I crack my knuckles nervously before turning back to the Batfamily and saying,

"If you need my services again, ask Little Red over there. He has my number."

Red Robin looked confused until he reached into his pocket and felt the slip of paper I planted on him. He pulls the slip of paper out of his pocket to the dismay of everyone in the cave. I send a wink his way once his disbelieving eyes turn back to me.

With a wave of my hand, I disappear from their cave before anyone could reply. Truthfully, I was a tad nervous to hear his reply. I'm still rusty when dealing with the living after spending so many years trapped in a metaphorical cage with anti-magic wards. Before John saved my sorry arse, I was entrapped for pissing off the wrong crowd.

I have much more experience with the dead and celestial as a result. They are a lot easier to figure out and handle than regular human beings.

Tim had never been more conflicted. Granted, he didn't have anyone who showed genuinely interest in him like this demon hunter. He had to applaud the flawless effort.

"Aww, you two would be so cute!"

Dick said with an encouraging grin. Dick, of course, was excited and happy for his brother. He wraps an arm around him in a side hug before letting go and saying,

"You should reach out! The chemistry between you two reminds me of myself and Starfire."

Jason rolls his eyes and fakes gags at Dick's brotherly excitement. Despite his annoyed exterior, he still defends Tim,

"You care too much, Grayson. Let my replacement come to his own decisions."

Tim gives a shy smile. The demonologist was rather cute and he appreciates the boldness and the stealth it took to even slip the note in his pocket. He softly says,

"Maybe I will."

[johnnyutah]

average adam faulkner stanheight fan: if adam isn’t in saw xi we riot! @lionsgate @kevingruetert @jameswan #adamlives #justiceforadam #corpseinconsistencies

average john kramer fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

average jill tuck fan: Appreciation post for the Women of Saw 🩷 [the same ten photos that get posted once a week]

average lawrence gordon fan: last night i watched a 2004 tv movie about serial killers called ‘the riverman’, followed by the cheesy family rom-com ‘a castle for christmas’. today my friends and i are going to binge the entire third season of netflix’s ‘stranger things’. none of us have seen a single episode of the rest of the show and we don’t plan on it. then we might rewatch ‘another country’ together

average amanda young fan: sorry i haven’t been online in 4 weeks i’ve been too busy trying to get the new pig cosmetic in the rift [posted 7 weeks ago]

average mark hoffman fan: [underneath a gifset of costas mandylor in a republican christian propaganda ‘sci-fi’ movie] #hes so fucking hot #i would give anything to put him in a sports bra and make him do jumping jacks in front pf me i would literally do #ANYTHING #i need to make him into a marionett and fist him lol

average daniel rigg fan: Here’s a quick low effort doodle I did of Daniel! I just love him so much ❤️ [a literal masterpiece, the best art you’ve ever seen in your entire life] [3 notes]

average allison kerry fan: i am hardcore attached to ONE ship which is probably either allison/amanda or allison/lindsey and my whole blog is devoted to them. there are dozens of us DOZENS

average lynn denlon fan: okay so i know bahar is a realtor now but in her last instagram post where she’s congratulating her son on some new achievement, both the first and last words in the post have 11 letters, AND there’s an X and an I visible in the background of her post 👀?? is this a reach???

average jeff denlon fan: No seriously let me finish seriously when you compare him to the other shitty men in Saw he’s NOT that b

average david tapp fan: i’m 39k away from publishing my 40k tappsing Everybody Lives AU <3 this is going to be epic [account has been deactivated for an indeterminate amount of time]

average brit stevenson and mallick scott fan: Hey I stayed up making this instead of writing my thesis paper for grad school. Here’s a 30,000 word document about the implications of Brit’s promotion within the Marshford group and how it would lead to her eventual demise and also how she rose to the top in her group. It also delves into her relationship with Mallick, whose existence, I believe, is an obvious literary reference to an ancient Roman play read by only me and three other people currently alive. I translated relevant passages and included them in my work. I got understimulated around page 8 so I did take a break to pierce myself in the same spot that I believe Mallick would have a piercing. If you read my fics on AO3 you will already be familiar with the location.

average peter strahm fan: haha peter does CRACK cocoaine haha i think he sniffeds some drugs! why else would he be so MANIC HYPER CRAZY!!! i love my crazy JUNKIE man LOL get him some andderall STAT!! if hoffman didn’t kill him the SPEED certianly would of! LOL!

average lindsey perez fan: i love lindsey perez i’m such a big fan of the character lindsey perez

average matt gibson fan: i literally would eat garbage out of a dumpster

average ezekiel banks fan: holy shit i just finished spiral what a good movie what the hell!!! what a cool addition to the saw universe! i bet everybody else loves this as much as i do! let me take a big drink of water as i check tumblr dot com to see all the nice things people will have to say about darren lynn bousman’s Spiral

average william schenk fan: my hobbies include: being a fujoshi,

average cecelia pederson fan: [pic of cecelia yanking on the metal loop around her neck and smirking] https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vT3f5IIzt5PG-M7G9_Z-gjY4gZaiUneTdMlYrFAcdBGcJo0-N-RDQcj2JfxOaBTxKa6J_DiDQNgqVpg/pub

average logan jigsaw fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

[explosionshark]

Buffy/Faith + cold, scar, kiss

(For the "send me three words and a character/ship" and I'll write you a scene ask game)

So there's really only one idea for a BodLang sequel that I really care about doing someday and it's this: like two years after the epilogue, Faith goes back to Boston to settle some affairs when she finds out her dad has died and Buffy goes with her. This would be a scene from that hypothetical fic. TW for non-specific references to child abuse (we ARE talking about Faith's family background)

--

“Faith.” Her name escapes Buffy's lips in a cloud of steam, dissolving into the winter air in a second, so fast it might as well have never existed. Buffy clenches her fists tight at her sides and takes a halting step forward, says it again, softer, more carefully. “Faith.”

Faith doesn't turn around. She's got her hands, bare, gloveless, braced on a metal rail. It's cold enough to snow, though it hasn't yet, and Buffy knows it must be cold enough to burn. She wants to reach out, to fold her arms around Faith's body and pull her back, encircle Faith in warmth, take her away from the pain that seems to lurk in every corner of this city. But she doesn't. Not yet. It wouldn't do any good, not before Faith is ready.

“I'm good,” Faith lies, voice rough, head bowed. Her shoulders don't shake, her hands don't leave the rail.

“You're not,” Buffy says, taking another step closer but stopping short of reaching out to touch her. “And you don't have to be, but don't lie about it. Not to me.”

Faith nods, looses a sigh that deflates the rigid set of her shoulders. She seems to shrink, finally, curling in on herself. She cants her head a little, looking sidelong at Buffy for the first time since she swept out of the apartment. “Sorry.”

“It's alright,” Buffy says and she means it. 

“I didn't think it would bother me this bad,” Faith laughs this brittle, hollow laugh, and Buffy can hear the tears in her voice now, even as she shakes her head, sniffing hard to keep them at bay. “I thought, y'know. It'd be good to go back. I'm strong now, y'know? I'm a slayer. And my life is good. I've got friends and I've got you. More than I ever thought I'd get, so. So — y'know, we’re here anyway and it makes sense, come back, get some closure. Thought it would reframe things, being back, really feel how different I am after all these years. How grown.”

Faith pauses and turns around, looking up at the streetlight hanging over them instead of at Buffy directly, the halogen bulb pouring yellow light over her in the dark. “What a fuckin’ joke.” Faith sniffs again, eyes squeezing shut against tears and runs a knuckle over her nose, hard and fast enough to make Buffy wince. “Swear to God, I've never felt any smaller.”

Buffy feels her heart throb in her chest, bruised and aching like a something slammed shut in a doorway. She can't help herself, taking another step closer, reaching a hand out to brush against Faith's cheek. When she doesn't flinch back or pull away, Buffy takes another step forward, brushes back the hair that's fallen into Faith's face, tucks it gently behind her ear.

“The things that fuckin' happened to me in that apartment, B, I swear,” Faith chokes out, sniffing hard again. “I don't even want to tell you.”

Someday, Buffy hopes she will. She dreads it, also, because she knows it will hurt. Faith has let some things slip over the years that paint a nasty picture. And there's more still Faith hasn't had to say, hasn't had a choice in revealing. There's a story in the cluster of too-round burn scars below her ribs, on the back of her right shoulder blade. 

“I'm sorry,” Buffy says, finally, trying to make her voice low and soothing, hating herself a little when it shakes in spite of her efforts. “I'm sorry that no one protected you when you were small and vulnerable. You deserved to have someone to take care of you and show you love and keep you safe.”

She can't help the way her own voice breaks at the end of the sentence, or the way she suddenly misses her own mother so fiercely it takes her breath away. 

Buffy clears her throat a little awkwardly and continues, “And I'm sorry it still hurts, even now. And that coming back here brought it all up for you again But I promise you — no one is ever going to hurt you like that ever again. You know why?”

“I'm a slayer,” Faith mutters, clenching her cold hands between them. “They couldn't.”

Buffy pauses a moment and pulls off her gloves, biting her lip at the sudden rush of cold against her bare skin. She reached out, carefully, cupping Faith's fists, uncurling them, cupping them between her own warm hands before raising them up between them. She leans down, breathes out hot air against the icy skin. Presses a soft kiss Faith's knuckles.

“That's true,” Buffy says quietly. “You're very strong. You're one of the strongest people I know, one of the best fighters. You've faced down demons and monsters and bad men, and you've beaten them all. You use your strength to help people. To protect people who are weaker than you, who need someone to help them. There's no way to make what happened to you here right, Faith, but that doesn't stop you from making the world better, in spite of the ways it failed you. And I'm so proud of you for that and I'm so glad you're here to do it. Because you're good.”

“I'm—” There's a wobble in Faith's voice and a fierceness in her expression that tells Buffy she wants to argue.

Buffy doesn't let her. “And the other reason no one could ever hurt you like that again is because I wouldn't let them. I won't ever let anyone treat you like that. Someone should have protected you when you were little, Faith, and they didn't and that's terrible. But I can. I will. And not just me, okay? Everyone. Willow and Giles and Dawn and Ange, even Xander.l And all those girls you've helped become real slayers.”

“Buffy,” Faith finally crumbles, lurching forward into Buffy's arms, breath spilling out in hot, wet staccato bursts against Buffy's neck.

“You'll never be hurt that way again because you'll never alone again like you were before,” Buffy promises into the shell of Faith's ear. “Never. I promise.”

Buffy feels Faith's hands clenching tight in the fabric of her coat, clinging to her with all the desperation and ferocity of a frightened child and thinks, not for the first time, that it's probably a good thing that Faith’s mom died before Buffy ever got a chance to meet her. She doesn't know what she would be capable of if she ever actually got to meet one of the people who'd wounded Faith so badly, so deeply, but she doesn't think it would be good.

“I'm— can you?” Faith sniffs, pulling back a little to catch Buffy's eye. “Can we go inside now? Not back there, but— I'm cold.”

“Sure,” Buffy says. She leans forward, presses a gentle kiss to the side of Faith's mouth. She means it just for comfort, a quick peck, and she's surprised when Faith immediately tilts her face, capturing Buffy's lips in another, deeper kiss. There's a desperation here that's familiar to Buffy, after so many years with Faith. An urgent, cavernous hunger, the yearning for reassurance, to feel wanted, to feel herself made precious in Buffy's touch. 

Buffy tries her best to sate that need, to pour all of her love, the seriousness of her promise I will protect you, I won't let you be hurt into the kiss. She slides one hand up to press into Faith's back, the space between her shoulder blades, to keep their bodies close. The other hand she cards through Faith's hair, nails light against her scalp, the way that always seems to calm her down. Buffy opens her mouth when she feels Faith’s tongue brush against her lips. She lets Faith in, swallows Faith’s answering whimper, thinking You can have anything you ask me for, I will never turn you away. Wishing she could somehow reach into Faith's heart, untangle all the painful, knotted emotions of her childhood hurts, contenting herself with this instead: loving her now, not letting her forget or doubt it.

“Love you,” Faith whispers, voice raw, when they break apart. “Sorry, I'm — Buffy, I really, really—”

“I know,” Buffy says, kissing her again, lingering, sweet. “I know. I love you too. Now let's go. Let me take you someplace warm.”

[yourstrulybluelover]

Title: Reunion Part 1

Pairings: Lo’ak (21) x Navi Reader (21) x Neteyam (22)

Warnings: MDNI

Contains: fluff, sexual tension

Background: The Sullys have been away for years. They have just returned to the Forrest, not only bringing with them joy and hope but also uprooting masked feelings.

Word count: 1335

It has been a month since the Sullies returned from the reef to the forest and weeks since you’ve seen the boys. They both have grown and evolved since the last time you saw them. You all have. You’ve grown up with the Sully family and the void they left since their departure forced you out of your shell to find more friends and become part of a new clique. News of their return had everyone excited and rushing to greet them. However, you kept your distance as you were fearful it would reignite old feelings for the younger Sully son.

You’re in your kelku getting dressed for the morning’s events when the door suddenly bursts open. You gasped as you shield yourself with your hands hovering over your dripping body.

“Who the fuck-“ you yell out fangs gnashing.

“Oh my god y/n!” you heard a familiar voice cry out “I’m sorry my intention wasn’t to- “

“Shut the door before you expose me further skxawng” you hissed.

The door immediately shut, darkening the room once more and trapping the much needed heat to recover you from the ice cold morning air. The draft that was let in was so cold it made your blue skin prickled with goosebumps and nipples perk up. At the time you grabbed the closest thing to cover your naked wet body which was thin layer of cloth usually used to wipe your supple skin dry after taking a morning wash.

“Sorry y/n.”

There stood a tall, muscular built familiar figure with his face facing the wall of your hut, you admired his broad shoulders and strong back eyeing his braids that were still swaying from his sudden movement.

“Lo-ak what are you doing here?!” you shrieked as you hurriedly dry your skin and dress with your loincloth and braided top, your black hair sticking to your damp body as you hurry to dress and cover whatever you could unsure of what exactly Lo’ak was able to see.

“What do you mean what I am doing here?” he scoffed, face still turned to the wall. “I have been away from the forest for two years and back a month now and you haven’t even stopped by to see me, or my family.”

You remain silent. Trying to tie your beaded top to and pull it over your breasts to hide you hardened nipple. Deep in thought you didn’t realized Lo’ak had turned away from the wall in your silence. Your eyes raised and met with his and suddenly you felt a warmth radiating from your stomach.

“Shit.” you whispered.

You expected him to look away once your eyes met, but he didn’t. His eyes suddenly changed, the once soft and curious expression was replaced with narrowed eyes and a mouth left agape.

“You need help?” he asked, his voice low and suddenly husky.

“No, I got it” you say, quickly turning around in embarrassment as you fiddle to loosen the ties around your neck to lower the beaded top in efforts to get more coverage.

You suddenly feel his hands on yours pushing them away so he can untie the knot himself.

“I said I got it” you huffed out annoyed.

He swats your hand away as you reach back up to the back of your neck.

“You certainly have grown” he whispers as he unties the bundles of knots you created when hastily trying to get dressed.

Your arms fell to your sides as you nervously listen, his breath on your neck, his chest eerily close to your back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to visit as yet, I got caught up with my duties,” you said in a hushed tone. An obvious lie.

“Ah, yes I’ve heard you’re one of the head flyers now, one of the patrol warriors.”

He’s been asking about me? Your thoughts began to swarm your mind when the beaded top’s position shifted. The knot was untied. You took a step forward and now correctly positioned the top over your semi exposed breast, still facing away from him. You took the pair of strings and tied them under your bust and then the neck strings and tied them around your neck in quick movements. All while you can feel Lo’ak’s stares on you.

You turn around quickly to still find him staring, but with more distance, braced on the nearest wall staring with a smirk plastered on his face. It’s like he can sense how uneasy being alone in the hut makes you. Two years ago you would not have imagined being able to be alone with him as the hut you currently live in belonged to you and your parents. But ever since their deaths, it’s just been you occupying the hut.

“My my, y/n, you look more beautiful than the last time I saw you” he said as his eyes scan your na’vi body, fixating on your breasts then moving down slowly to your hips and back up to your eyes.

You look away as you feel the warmth in your stomach grow, you clear your throat trying to regain the confidence you had.

“Shall we go and join everyone at the gathering for breakfast?” you asked quickly changing the topic and ignoring his flirtatious advancements.

He immediately huffs and springs himself off the walk to walk closer towards you, you backed away slowly. Your eyes never leave his. You are stopped abruptly as you hit the back of nearby furniture. Lo’ak continues in his advancements until he is inches away from you. The height difference has you staring at his chest as he towers at you. He reaches a finger under your chin to bring your eyes back to his and smirks. You can feel your face redden. His other hand reaches at your waist.

He’s always been aware of your feelings for him despite your failed attempts to hide it. He noticed how clumsy you’d get around him. How nervous his stares made you feel. How self-conscious you were every time he was around. Despite you never acting on them or outright confessing your feelings for him it was as if he read your mind and would constantly tease you. Now he’s back and these very same feelings came flooding back with just one touch.

“I’ve missed y/n, haven’t you missed me?” He whispered. His face now inches from yours and suddenly you can feel the heat travel from your stomach to between your legs. Your breathing is hitched.

“Lo’ak I-"

You are suddenly interrupted by the sudden pull of the door. You really need to get yourself one of those human locking mechanisms that Norm has, you thought to yourself. The movement breaks the tension between you, too, resulting in both of you jumping away from each other as if you were almost caught.

“Y/n!” a familiar males voiced boomed at you.

“Nete?” you cried out happily.

“Oh dam it’s so nice to see you y/n after all this time!” Neteyam cries out rushing towards you as you rush toward him to give him a hug. He picks you up and spins you around. You forgot how much you missed the Sullys. Neteyam always looked out. He was the one responsible for you being one of the best archers in your clan. Before he left he would always spend extra time teaching you his own techniques. You didn’t even realize how much you missed him. You can feel Lo'ak's glares on both of you.

Behind him came Kiri, who was a year younger than you but always kind. You greet her with another hug as suddenly tears swell in your eyes. You forgot what it was like to be embraced by persons who cared, it reminded you more of the absence of your own family.

“What are you doing here brother?” Neteyam asks as he glances to Lo’ak.

“The same reason you’re here bro.” Lo’ak says while he stares at you the hungry expression not leaving his eyes.

---

Heey guys first time fic writer. Have always wanted to try it and here goes. Hope you like it. Dod not get to proofread, most was typed out on phone.

Art taken from pinterest. If I've used anyone's art and didn't tag em lemme know.

Still getting used to Tumblr

[letmesleep8]

even if I die screaming // elliexreader

CHAPTER 2: To Someone Special

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

chapter 1 | chapter 3 | AO3 gets it first

content warnings/tags: subtle homophobia; friends to lovers; christmas love.

notes: hello again, buddies! <3 chapter two is here, thank you for the notes! let me know in the comments in case anyone wants to be tagged in chapter 2 btw

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Every second counts, I don't wanna watch tv anymore"

— Bags, Clairo

December 24, 2038 Winter

Dear diary, 

Christmas is FINALLY coming up! I've always been a big time Christmas girl but this year it's extra special: Ellie suddenly realized she would not self-combust if she showed up at one of my Christmas parties just once! Well, it's not exactly a party. Mama's gonna be on patrol on the 25th, so I called Ellie, Dina and Jesse over to watch some movies. Dina and Jesse decided they'd spend the holiday with the boy's parents this year for once and Ellie, I believe, felt pitiful and decided to come by. 

I like her. She can be closed off, but she's fun. Cat said she is easy to like when she makes a bit of effort. They had a fight last week and I think I saw them kiss once, maybe twice. Mama's not the biggest fan of Ellie, she says she "doesn't think that's normal". How does she fight literal zombies every week and her biggest fear is a lesbian?

Gonna do some baking now. Hope Ellie likes pie.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

I placed some blankets on the couch and put the best holiday movie I could find next to the player. Our house was always incredibly tidy, I can't stand dusty places. I lit a candle and put the star I made myself on top of the pine. I'm committed to having a Christmas tree every single year, it doesn't matter how hard I find to bring it inside by myself. To me, it's a glimpse of what life was before the outbreak, and I also realized that my mom finds some sense of normalcy in these things. In a world like this, we lack some tradition. My kitchen timer rings and I run to the oven, the apple pie I've made looks great. I carefully take it off the heat and place it on the counter.

"It's a blizzard out here!" I hear some knocking on the door. "I am about to freeze to death!" I walk to the door to find Ellie all bundled up, her tiny nose red from the cold, the calluses on her fingers covered by navy blue wool.

"Come on in, sorry for the waiting", I reply as I brush some of the snow off her shoulders. She enters the house, a thankful gaze as she sees the lit fireplace. The girl takes off some layers of clothing along with her shoes, sitting on the couch.

"You should stop wearing sneakers on the snow, your feet are soaked", I threw her a blanket. "You're gonna get a cold."

She scoffs, "Well, if I ever do I know that I can count on ya' as my doctor", a slight smirk present on her face, still red from the low temperature. I smile and roll my eyes at her, maybe slightly blushed, 'cause my face definitely feels hot. 

I cut each of us a piece of pie and joined her on the couch. “You like Christmas movies?” I smirk. Of course she does, who doesn’t like Christmas movies? Well, I am quickly surprised by her, who admits she’s never watched one.

“I’ve never really been into Christmas n' shit”, Ellie shrugs her shoulders, “not really any holidays at all.”

I look at her, mouth wide open in disbelief. How does one live without ever watching Home Alone? “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do”, I exclaimed, excitedly. I get up from the couch and run over to my dvd shelf. A few seconds later I came back with three more movies for us to watch.

Our plan was to watch all the movies this afternoon but we soon lost focus. We talked for hours while “A Nightmare Before Christmas” repeatedly played in the background, we kept hitting “restart”, saying we were gonna actually watch it this time. Instead, we discussed the simplest of things, drinking tea and sharing Stevie and her warm fur on our laps. 

“Okay, I am not saying they're all dead”, Ellie’s out of breath laugh filled the room. To me, it seemed brighter all of a sudden, as if we had lit the third homemade scented candle of the day. “It’s just a probability, we wouldn’t even know”, she continued.

I threw my head back, laughing. “At least they’re voice actors, it wouldn’t be as weird. Could you imagine running into an infected that looked just like the girl from Pulp Fiction?” I shook my head, trying to erase the thought. “I think I’d pass out.” She laughed while shaking her head.

“You really do not like to fight, do you?” She grinned, teasingly. 

“I don’t think anyone does”, I replied. “Would you still do something like this if we were born before the outbreak?”

She nodded her head “no” without hesitating. I raised my eyebrow, wondering if she was going to elaborate. A moment later, Ellie continues: “Astronaut, I’d like to be an astronaut, maybe a musician.”

I smiled softly, she seemed to have previously thought about this. After a while I, too, respond: “I would like to be a writer, perhaps a teacher. I really like kids.”

I could see in her eyes that had softened her demeanor. She looked into the floor, smiling. “I think you’d be a great teacher, you’re all bubbly and… fucking gentle”, she stated. 

I looked into her, my eyes whispering “is that bad?”. She then gave me a smile that, to me, said “not at all”. Her slow approach asked “can I come close?” My worried gaze declared “this isn’t right”, but the sudden free will of my hands shouted a crystal clear “I object”. My left hand touched her right,I could finally feel the warmth of her fingertips. A good liar could pretend it was only a distasteful accident but I am as true as the sky is blue, so I trace the patterns on her index finger with mine until I could find rest in her palm.

Ellie moved her hand, she was going to hold mine with her palm. My heart is filled with anxiety when, as subtle as a lightning in a dark room, my mom bursts the front door open. “Merry Christmas”, she yells across the room to us with her welcoming smile. I don’t think it was honest.

Some minutes later, Ellie decided it was time for her to go. Mama insisted she took a piece of pie for Joel, so she did. The cold hugged my body as I opened the door for her and she quickly disappeared into the same blizzard she came from. 

[venusbby]

hello val 🤗 for the game can i request prompt 26 + bachira? and ofc bachira being his goofy self says the second line!

thank you so much if you are going to do this ! take ur time <3

🍁 character & prompt: BACHIRA MEGURU // #26. "what are you doing?" "sneaking in. be quiet please. i'm scared of your parents."

note: aaaa this is so bachiracore!! thankyou for requesting! i hope u like this and have a nice day <33333 mwa # drabble game prompts

summary: after not seeing you at his game, your boyfriend bachira takes the matter into his own hands, ignoring the fear of getting caught by your parents just to meet you.

another noise made it to your ears even though you had your headphones on. this was the second time in a row, and even if you brushed it off the first time, thinking that it was probably some background sound from the show you were watching, you couldn't help but be curious about it this time.

cautiously, you climbed out of your bed, headphones kept quietly on the mattress as you tried to see if the noise came back again.

"ow, fuck!" a muffled voice came from the direction of the window.

you gasped, whipping your head in the same direction, warily eyeing the glass window.

then you heard a soft knock from the outside, paired with a familiar face on the other side, streaks of blond hair more noticeable due to your bedroom light.

your jaw dropped, and you hurried to open the window, eyes as wide as saucers.

"baby!" whispered bachira, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you as he carefully brought himself in, the sleeve of his shirt almost getting stuck in a tree branch.

"what in the," you said, flabbergasted. your voice was louder than your boyfriend liked it to be— he winced as you talked further. "what the fuck are you doing?"

"sneaking in," he replied in a hushed tone, giving you an example of how you should speak. "be quiet please. i'm scared of your parents."

you inhaled, at a loss for words. it was 1 am— bachira should have been at his place, getting the rest he needs after the game at school today, and he somehow ended up here?

ignoring the way your mouth was still fallen apart in shock, your boyfriend engulfed you in a tight hug, planting a lingering kiss on your temple. he nuzzled his face in your neck until his voice was barely audible when he spoke. "i missed you."

you chuckled, one hand settling on his back and the other travelling upwards to ruffle his hair. "you're so done if my parents find out,"

"...and i missed you too." you added after that, pulling away to meet his eyes with a wide smile on your face.

maybe he was a little too risky when it came to meeting you without your parents finding out, but you would never let his effort go to waste. your boyfriend was the one and only person you'd risk it all for— even if it meant that you'd have to hide him under your bed if your mom woke up and came upstairs. just incase.

bachira caressed your cheek, blinking slowly. "you weren't there for the game today. i looked everywhere for you."

you nodded, "i wasn't feeling too well. 'm sorry. i should've texted."

he shrugged, beaming now. his hands slowly trailed down to your waist. although he was smirking, the tips of his ears were red. he kept his voice low. "it doesn't matter. i'm here to kiss you until you feel better."

you almost squealed when he picked you up, your legs hurriedly wrapping around his body as he brought you to the bed, earning a soft groan from him. "shush— i don't wanna die tonight."

"sorry," you said with a sheepish grin, only for bachira to shut you up by crashing his lips against yours, pulling away just as quickly.

"i knew you were amazing today, even though i wasn't there." you said, settling in his lap.

"yeah?" he grinned, satisfied with your praise. his hands rested on your back to support you so you wouldn't lose balance, thumb rubbing mindless circles into the material of your shirt. "would've been even better if you were there, though."

"don't worry, i'll be there for the next one," you replied. "it would be a crime not to be, especially after you did all this for me."

"that's right," he looked smug, lightly squeezing your waist. "i'll even dedicate a goal to you."

"the other girls will be jealous, babe." you giggled.

"that's not my problem," he sang quietly, making you bury your head in his chest to muffle down your laugh.

🍄 taglist: @hyomagiri @yoimyas @beanxiv <33

[vikintor]

hello, I just wanted to say your githyanki map sounds so interesting and cool! I'm currently obsessed with DnD and BG3, and I would love to contribute to this project!

The problem is I'm personally not familiar with making a sprite for a character, so how do I translate a BG3 character into a 500x by 500 pixel image? Is it ok if there's gameplay in the background?

I also am a bit lost to as the specifics. What kind of character do you want? What would fit with the story best? I have so meany character ideas it would really help if I knew the answer to these questions.

How much information do you want about an OC? Do you want different lines recorded depending on approval level? Do you want me to set up a quest, or a native, you've planes out?

Sorry, tend to ask way to many questions.

Hello, thank you, this makes me very happy.

"The problem is I'm personally not familiar with making a sprite for a character, so how do I translate a BG3 character into a 500x by 500 pixel image? Is it ok if there's gameplay in the background?"

Thanks for asking, I made a short guide on how I ported my character sprites (at the end of this post), unfortunately, that's the boring part of the process. I thought about cutting the backgrounds myself but I don't know yet how many githyes I will have to port (as I'm working on the project in my free time)

"I also am a bit lost to as the specifics. What kind of character do you want? What would fit with the story best? I have so meany character ideas it would really help if I knew the answer to these questions."

For now, I'm looking to add Githyanki/Githzerai Tav characters as NPCs like guest appearances (I do have plans to add a few characters from other races, but I already have the context on why they'll appear on a Githyanki Stronghold). Those special NPC's are static characters (like in daggerfall) the player can talk to. The scope of the game is very small, so they're kinda of a cardboard cutout with a dialogue tree.

The game is simple, just exploring the stronghold and talking to NPC's. In the beginning, these NPCs would be the Githyanki main characters I've played as on my BG3 "Githyanki-only party" playthroughs. But then I saw how much effort the Githyanki enjoyers put into their characters, so I thought that would be cool to open the possibility of adding Githyanki main characters played/created by other players, so the game could work as a museum when each NPC can celebrate part of this effort.

The context storywise on why there are so many Githyanki/Githzerai in the same spot in the game and why I'm mostly adding Gith Tavs is because the stronghold works as a sanctuary where Githyanki rebels and Gith refugees can hide, a place that has heavy ties with Sha'sal khou; a group of Githyanki that seeks to unify the gith races and assassinate the Queen. This is also the context of why the Githyanki and Githzerai tolerate each other in this place, as in typical circumstances they would kill each other.

"How much information do you want about an OC? Do you want different lines recorded depending on approval level? Do you want me to set up a quest, or a native, you've planes out?"

For now, I'm only using the 5 sprites and the answers the OC should give from the main post. Those answers will be what the OC will say when the player character asks them the questions from the post.

Because the scope still small I'm not adding quests besides some simple objectives related to why the main character woke on a Githyanki stronghold, and who saved her.

Recorded voice lines is not mandatory, nor highly recommended, as most of the NPCs won't have voice lines, just text. But if people want to send recorded voices, I recommend just the "greetings" message for now, which will be played when the player speaks to the NPC for the first time. But I can only use audio in OGG format, otherwise I run the risk of overloading the project.

oh, and the smol guide on how I got the sprites:

If it appear in low-res, I have it on my drive: https://drive.google.com/file/d/19dhUMKEi4RUXwB1u5iidECm81ueMYilY/view?usp=sharing

I'm also preparing my own submission for later, to work as an example:

[goldeneyedgirl]

Hi Lexie! So Hybrid Babyverse: so well written and well built, I love this version of hybrid a lot, mostly because is so unexpected to see Jalice being parents (and GOOD parents). I've been reading a lot of angst lately thanks to flowerslut and babyverse has been like a cozy day in a warm cabin to me (even if you already said it's not exactly a comfy story). So if you have more of this universe I'd love to read. Also, one of the most interesting things about this fic, for me, is how protective and loving Alice is as a mother. If I'd picture her as a momma, I'd do it exactly the way you did, responsible and put together even when the world is ending above her head (and probably a bit too liberal as well). I just want to emphasize how amazing you are doing with the characterization of Alice and Jasper in a universe we don't see much at all.

Aww, anon, thank you so much. At some point I'm going to have to get into the actual plot of the fic, but I have a very good time just writing little slice-of-life scenes that are low stakes. I'm really glad that you are enjoying it because I know the scenario is really out there, but it's just the right level of dramatic to appeal to me. 

And yeah, Alice is super liberal and a teenager, which makes her so much fun to write - she has her convictions, and sometimes she's just trolling everyone for shits and giggles. Some of her nonsense definitely gives Bella a little more confidence not to feel like she has to be as 'perfect' as the Cullens; it's okay to be messy and human. 

Alice does clash with some of the Cullens' more old fashioned and conservative beliefs at times. Jasper and Alice definitely discuss a lot of things privately, but when it comes to a lot of the discourse in the household, Jasper's response is something along the lines of 'I was a Confederate soldier in the 1800s, I trust Alice's judgement in this issue.' Or 'As Alice is the one possessing the uterus, I'm pretty sure her thoughts on the matter of abortion are far more relevant than mine.' 

(I, for one, am fixating on the idea that the one thing that Jasper puts his foot down about is the family wealth during Oliver's upbringing. No luxury cars or designer clothing, no outrageous toys, no luxury prep schools, and Oliver has to get into college on his own merit. Alice, from a foster care background, hates the idea at first but warms up - a kid doesn't need a battery-powered BMW to drive around the house or a private jet to go to Disneyland, they need loving and supportive parents, and a secure home. And the houses they live in are insanely nice places, and Oliver still has nice stuff. Just very much more of a middle-class image, than a 1% image. Oliver getting into a good college with a partial scholarship is one of Jasper's proudest moments.) 

(Is that a dig at the upbringing Renesmee gets? You betcha.) 

I could sit here spewing headcanons for Oliver and Alice and Jasper all day, but here's a scene I wrote for purposes that remain mysterious. Still toying with Alice being angrier at Jasper when he returns, and how their reconciliation looks. 

---

It’s not hard to find Jasper after dark these days. The Brandon house is helpfully tucked away from the road, so no one can see anyone who happens to be sitting on the roof. It takes no effort to join his brother, Emmett landing nearly silently next to him. “Long night? Alice kick you out?” He tries to make it a joke, but he knows that their tentative reunion is a sore spot for Jasper.

“No longer than normal,” Jasper shrugs, ignoring the joke but Emmett knows he’s hit a sore spot.

There’s a book next to Jasper; some heavy thing with the words ‘Child Psychology’ buried in the title, and Emmett nearly feels sorry for Oliver.

“She doing okay?” Jasper hasn’t been home much since they got back. He’s trying to get back into the Brandons’ good graces, and get to know his son. Jasper’s son. Those words are a mind-fuck - of all the Cullens to have an accidental kid, Jasper was bottom of the list; Emmett’s been trying to wrap his mind around the idea for the last few weeks. And counsel Rosalie through a lot of different emotions. 

It’s been a weird summer. 

“Tired, stressed, frustrated…” Jasper recites emotions like a catalogue, and Emmett can hear the frustration of his own in Jasper’s voice. “We’re talking, she knows I’m staying at night. Her fathers aren’t happy, and Cynthia’s still leaning towards violence but it’s something.”

“How’s Oliver?” Emmett can hear the disappointment in Jasper’s voice, and talking about the baby always cheers him up. If nothing else, he’s watching Jasper change. Kind of reminds him of when Jasper joined the family and was so bewildered and curious about how they all seemed to like and trust each other. The rare times that Jasper has been home lately, Oliver is one topic he will freely talk about - his relationship with Alice is almost entirely off-limits, as was whatever the Brandons had said to him. But he would almost always give this small smile and update them on Oliver.

And like clockwork, Jasper looks over and smiles. “He’s finally doing better in his own room. He took a while to settle, but he's sleeping now.”

Ah, the bedroom project. It had started two weeks ago - a freshly decorated bedroom of Oliver’s own in the Brandon house that everyone had heard about in great detail, mostly because Esme had been hanging on every word.

Things were … pleasant but cool between Alice and the rest of the family. There was a guest room ready and waiting for Alice and Oliver if - when - they finally stayed over, but Esme was absolutely bursting to get to work on two personalized rooms - a bedroom for Alice (and Jasper) and a nursery for Ollie. But for now, Esme was living vicariously through Simon and Alice’s nursery decorating and trying to gently encourage Alice to spend more time at the Cullens.

But after the bedroom was finished, it had been a struggle to get Oliver to sleep alone in there; he didn’t seem to want or need twelve hours of sleep at night, had disliked being left on his own, and had made that everyone in the house’s problem. Alice had been very short-tempered for the last two weeks. 

Jasper was perched in between Alice and Oliver’s bedrooms, with the soft glow of a nightlight filtering through the bedroom on the left. It was nearly certain that both windows were unlocked, and that Jasper had probably timed himself getting in and out of both of them, in case of emergency.

“D’you ever wonder…” Emmett begins before stopping. It’s a dumb question, he knows the answer.

“Wonder what?” Jasper pauses for a second; from his crib, Oliver lets out a grizzle and a gurgle, but resumes sleep quickly. 

“…what it would have been like if we’d stayed?”

Jasper lets out a bark of laughter; Emmett can hear the regret. 

“I think about that every day,” Jasper says, rubbing his hand over his face. 

And he does.

He imagines Alice telling him, nervous and afraid and desperate. He pictures her flat stomach curving. Getting to feel their baby kicking, looking at the sonograms. Planning for this bizarre future they had found themselves in. Getting to see and to hold his son within hours of his birth, and not months.

And being there for all the ugly stuff that the Brandons alluded to - Alice being unable to get out of bed, complaining of aches and pains, unending vomiting and fainting and seizures… he wanted to be there, to comfort her, to make sure she wasn’t alone. 

He wanted to be down in that bedroom right now, tucked up beside her with her arm thrown over his chest. Her face pressed against his shoulder. To kiss her cheek and read as she slept. 

He wanted it all so badly. 

Instead, he had this - sitting on the roof, watching over them in silence.

And he deserved it, for leaving her the way he did. She was being more forgiving than he expected, really - he had prepared himself for Alice to tell him to fuck off and never contact her again, when they returned. But for some insane reason, she had been willing to talk, willing to let him know their baby.

He just had to earn the love and trust back. 

“Every fucking day,” he echoes. 

“Sorry man,” Emmett shook his head. “It was a stupid question. But… you missed what, less than a year all up? Ollie’s not even one yet. He’s never going to remember a time without you here, being his dad. Alice will forgive you; she’s always been crazy about you, and she’s hardly going to let you sit on the roof if she was planning on kicking you to the curb. In ten years we’re going to turn around and it’ll be crazy that you and Alice weren’t always together.”

“I hope so.” Jasper looks both much older and so very young in that moment. “I… it was stupid to leave.”

Emmett let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I think you made that clear. Edward’s still fixing his CDs.”

A light flicked on in the right window, and both of them could hear movement as Alice climbed out of bed and left the room. She returned a few moments later, the light going out.

“It’s gonna be okay, man. I bet you fifty that you’ll be dancing at your wedding before your kid hits middle school,” Emmett stood up, ready to head home to Rose.

“Middle school?” Jasper half-chuckled, half sounded horrified.

“I said before - and Alice didn’t look impressed when Edward and Bella announced their engagement. I think she’s more of the ‘live-in-sin’ kind of girl, myself,” Emmett shrugged.

“Go home before you wake someone up,” Jasper said, picking up his book. “Alice won’t care much unless you wake up the baby, but Cynthia will cuss you out from the bathroom window.”

[alarrytale]

Sorry if this is a little off topic.. it is somewhat about H+L but mostly about closeting in general. Your blog has been really educational for me. How would you tell if a celebrity is going into the closet permanently, like nailing the closet door shut? That they wouldn't be coming out for a long long time or maybe never at all. Do you think there would be signs in advance or it can come from out of nowhere. What do you think the signs would be? A lavender marriage maybe, or long term public relationship? I wonder about this a lot because I don't want to be caught out again. I had this recently with my fave actor who is in his late 30s and I've been a big fan and followed him since his early 20s. I was sure he was gay and I knew who his male partner was, another actor. His male partner was always in the background and they hung out a lot publicly but also with a beard, as if she was providing a cover. There were also many slip ups on ig from their families like the Tomlinson sisters slip up. About their sexuality and being in a relationship. Well recently my fave is engaged and his supposed girlfriend is pregnant. I wasn't expecting it, it really surprised me. The other guy is still around so it's not like I think they broke up. I still think he is closeted, I can't forget everything I've seen. But I feel really disappointed. If I am to think of the signs in hindsight, well he didn't queercode and he's really straight presenting. People don't question his sexuality, only if they have followed really closely and since early on in his career when he was more open about it. He had a long term beard. He's really ambitious with his career. I just didn't expect it, I'm so disappointed and can't quite believe it. To bring it back to H+L, theoretically if they were never going to come out what signs do you think we would see? Would there be signs?

Hi, anon!

So happy my blog has been educational for you! If a celebrity were to shut the closet door firmly shut, i'd expect to see a few different things. No queercoding, at least not concious and intentional queercoding, and a more permanent solution for a beard (long term and possibly with a low key, non-attention seeking beard), and if they ever want a family, kids or/and lavender marriage. I would also look for a turn towards more masculine and stereotypically masculine environments and behaviour. More straight presenting. Think of T*m Crui*e and Joh* Trav*lta. I would also expect to see them shy away from anything queer affiliated aka not show up at Glaad awards or publicly support queer charities. They don't want focus on their queerness and would try to dispel and counter any queer rumour, without drawing focus on it. It's image management basically.

If H and L never want to come out or at least not come out until they're grey and old, i'd expect them to tone down their queeness, try to sever their connection to each other and get into steady longterm relationship with non-attention seeking women. I'd expect them to attempt to play along and not sabotage their own efforts. They'd go all in to sell their straightness to get people to back off and to ease the pressure on themselves.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Tidbits Tuesdays

This is just stuff that I'm proud of but I'll probably never finish or post. For this particular one it's Love and Deepspace

Is it just my OC Kit and Sylus?

.... maybe.

No promises on context, but you're free to badger me in my inbox.

This will most likely become a regular occurrence that I do.

Kit collapses after a mission, and Sylus, her boss, is the one who's called to pick her up. Set maybe a few months after she's joined his team.

-

He sighed, standing up from her cot and holding out a cup. A familiar seawater smell accosted her nose. “Drink this before I do.”

Reluctantly, she did so. It was thick and slimy as it slid down her throat, making her gag and her eyes water.

Almost instantly, the herbal remedy did its trick, and she felt her body’s functions fully return to her.

“Where am I?” She asked, wiping her mouth.

The sawbones stepped forward, clearing his throat. “My lab. You collapsed here. I called Sylus.”

Kit’s eyes widened, her heart racing instantly. She looked around the room, and there he was, leaning in a far corner.

His expression was dark and inscrutable.

Something about it made her tremble, then shake violently. Sylus walked forward and reached his hand out.

She flinched, closing her eyes and covering her face. “I'm sorry,” she choked out. “I did the mission, I didn't even fuck it up this time, please don't-”

There was a moment of pause, and then a long sigh. His hand settled gently on top of her head. “I'm not going to hit you. I know you did the job well. However, when we get back, you will disclose everything to me.”

She nodded dumbly, looking down at the scratchy sheets. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she blinked them away in frustration.

His hand twitched. “Are you-”

“You've temporarily gone blind, boss,” she snapped.

He gave a low chuckle. “I suppose I have. Thank your friend before he leaves.”

- (cut from the same WIP, a little later) -

Two hours, a crow, and a cup of coffee later, Kit was curled up on Sylus's sofa.

It felt weird to be like this in her boss’s room, but he'd bullied her into it.

Every time she thought about protesting, his eye glinted, and the words died in her mouth.

She tapped her fingers on the outside of the cup, enjoying the fragrance and warmth.

There was still a sense of agitation under her skin, her instincts telling her she wasn't safe. The paranoia would pass in a few days, however.

It always did.

Sylus leaned against the bookshelf next to the fireplace, a beautifully cut crystal rocks glass in hand. It had barely a finger of whiskey in it.

Classical music played in the background softly, and Kit sighed. “At least let me change the music.”

He glanced at her. “Is it not to your liking?” The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he were amused. “Far be it for me to disatisfy a guest.”

Kit scowled at him. “This is your depression vinyl. You listen to it when you're feeling dark and moody. And while I get why, sort of, it doesn't mean you should continue with it.”

He stood up fully, stalking over to her.

She swallowed hard as he placed the glass on the side table nearby, moving to stand in front of her.

Sylus leaned forward, palms on either side of her, caging her against the back of the couch. “And why exactly would I be feeling that way?”

Kit wanted to look away, but found that to be a herculean effort. “Um,” she said, swiping her tongue across her bottom lip nervously. His eyes followed the movement. “Because I didn't tell you about my condition?”

He smiled. It wasn't nice. “Go on.”

“And…” a flush crawled up her neck, warming her to her bones. “I didn't tell you I needed to resupply?”

“So close, kitten,” he purred. Whether it was accidental that he came close to her full name or not, she didn't know, but the nickname still made her jerk, startled.

Sylus grabbed her chin, keeping her attention on him. “You put yourself in danger by not telling me. If it had been anyone else but the doctor, or you hadn't made it in time before you collapsed, that would mean you were completely vulnerable. In the heart of the N109 Zone. My reach extends far, sweetie. It doesn't cover everywhere. Especially when my assassin is on an assignment that Mephisto can't see.”

She wilted, finally glancing away. The shame that curled in her gut made the flush worse, as if she were an errant child being scolded by a parent. “It won't happen again, sir.”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, and she looked back, wide-eyed. “What did I do wrong this time?” She whined. “I'm just agreeing with you and apologizing!”

He blinked. This new, petulant side to his assassin warmed him slightly, making him want to draw it out more.

He smirked, tapping her bottom lip with his thumb. “The only time anyone ever calls me sir is if they don't know me, or they're underneath me. Understood, sweetie?”

She flushed brilliantly, and he jerked his thumb away just before her teeth snapped around it. Kit scowled up at him. “Understood, boss,” she grumbled.

Sylus chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I think that's enough scolding for today. Now.” He sat down besides her, holding out his hand. A blanket from the bed flew to him, and he plopped it over her lap. She looked bewildered, frozen in place like a cat wearing clothes. Sylus hid a smile. “Tell me about your condition. Everything. Leave nothing out.”

Kit went from feisty to miserable in an instant. If she'd had ears, they would have been pinned back. “Do I have to?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to keep working for me?”

She sighed. “....fine. But you're not going to believe me.”

Sylus leaned towards her. “Try me.”

[bogkeep]

Do you have any advice or resources on pricing commissions/commissions in general? I've been thinking of starting comms

I hope this is an okay thing to ask lol

PS: luv ur art!

for resources, there's this video (subtitled but not transcribed sorry) which lays it out really well! there used to be a really good twitter thread by yoshi yoshitani, but it seems to be deleted.

here's some general experience/advice:

- IN A PERFECT WORLD we would all price our commissions well and fairly and comparable to industry standard, buuuuuut i get why most of us don't. compared to industry standard my $130 character portraits are also underpriced, and while i AM steadily upping my prices (my first comms were $40 for a fully colored and shaded fullbody. oof) 1) i need to consider what audience i have and who will be able to commission me, and 2) i mostly do commissions for some extra pocket money, not to make a living. i think my prices are comparable to many fellow internet artists in the same sphere.

- the way i price my commissions are that the MINIMUM amount needs to be the amount i have to be paid to feel like a commission is worth doing (taking into account my limited amount of time and energy to work on art, if i take paid $50 but then spend several days to complete it i will grow resentful and stretch myself too thin for too little), and the MAXIMUM is "at what point will the price paralyze me because i feel like I don't feel like i can make something worth that amount."

- working on a commission WILL take longer than just working on a Fun Piece For Yourself, both because you're putting in extra effort trying to make it worth the money you're given, and because you will spend time communicating with your client. you will get a better grip on your timeframe after you have more experience doing commissions.

- you're not just taking paid for the art itself, but client communications, your experience and expertise which has taken years to build, revisions, tools, etc.

- something they JUST told us in clock school: sometimes you get clock repairs that cost less than your quote and you might feel bad about this, but you will definitely do clock repairs that cost a lot more than your quote. THIS IS HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE, THIS IS HOW YOU BREAK EVEN. when you give a quote at the beginning you don't know how much the work is going to take and estimates are always rough, but you're using your time and expertise to offer a service and you need money to live.

- your prices/quote can have wriggle room like "will cost X amount but Y for Extra Detailed Stuff Like Wings/Fancy Outfit/Background Detail"

- don't offer commissions you don't wanna do! i used to offer a wide range of styles and price categories, including some really cheap sketch options, and i don't Regret doing those per se but nowadays i only offer a narrowed down selection. I don't have time to do fullbodies with full backgrounds, so even if it's something i CAN do and people WOULD pay me for, I don't HAVE to do that.

- its okay, encouraged even, to adjust your prices as you go along and get more experienced at doing commissions. it's pretty normal to start out with low prices to get the hang of it (tattoo apprentices do tattoos for lower prices unil they're done with their training, and doing commissions is its own skill)

- if someone thinks your prices are too high, you don't want them as your clients to begin with. dealing with shitty commissioners is rarely worth the pay, and higher prices tend to result in better and more respectful clients.

i hope im not forgetting something hope this helps

[bl00dhearts]

My little rant on the new Priscilla movie by sophia coppola:

Ok so first off the movie wasn’t even that bad the aesthetics and how it was portrayed was beautiful. The story telling was incredible and the convey of emotion really spoke for the movie. Even thought it did kinda drag on on some parts i feel, overall great film… i would give this a near perfect rating if it wasn’t based on REAL people…

This movie is a glamorized over exaggerated fairy tail of elvis and priscilla. i don’t know what other way to put it. It clearly portrayed elvis in a bad light even his daughter Lisa Marie Presley shared her thoughts on the movie before she passed. Saying it was vengeful and portrayed her father wrong. Like damn that’s literally elvis’s daughter and y’all still saying he was all this stuff. Like i ain’t saying he isn’t a bad person he definitely had his flaws but priscilla did too. But the movie very much portrays priscilla as this sad depressed little girl being groomed by elvis when that wasn’t the case at all. than y’all be clapping back saying ‘the movie is based on the elvis and me book priscilla wrote and it’s her perspective’ like no duh. but it’s her perspective and could easily be taken out of proportion. like i ain’t saying what priscilla went through wasn’t real like it def was and i’m forever a priscilla defender AND an elvis defender.

but y’all seem to have a problem with people defending elvis. and that’s all got to do with the modernization of extreme feminism and the me too movement… which is just hideous like i get ‘I’m just a girl’ what about ‘i’m just a boy’ like don’t get me wrong am a girls girl and all put i also have empathy for the other side even if i know there wrong.

(sorry for that lil rant)

Back to the movie, due to sophia coppola influence on young girls (low key me) they be taking her film as reality which it clearly isn’t. like it isn’t a documentary and it isn’t a hundred percent factual to the last detail, it’s a story told from priscilla’s perspective. and y’all straight up hating on elvis as if he wasn’t a real person with feelings and emotions that actually lived and sadly passed. and he isn’t here to tell his side.

i would not recommend this movie to anyone and would actually discourage it to people who haven’t done there research or don’t have proper background knowledge before hand, because if you hardly herd of elvis and didn’t rlly know who priscilla was going into that theater your definitely going to come out have a raging hatred for elvis and extreme sympathy for priscilla.

one more thing is that y’all really be pressed about the age gap like most parents including mine have a similar age gap to elvis and priscilla. Like every other person i hear yap about this movie is ‘priscilla was a CHILD when she dated elvis’ like girl be fr i be getting second hand embarrassment for that. She was fourTEEN a teenager and elvis a young adult. and it’s not like elvis immediately started dating when she was fourteen they MET each other when she was that age. and even priscilla herself said elvis NEVER tried anything on her and wasn’t sexual towards her. Even herself priscilla said ‘i was older in life not numbers’ which is so real bc i bet a lot of y’all thoughts y’all’s was mature for ur age. she also said ‘i don’t think i was groomed’ and that’s from priscilla herself and how you gonna deny her own words, even herself also explained how she actively persuade elvis when she was younger and begged her parents to let her move in with elvis at 17 it wasn’t like elvis was begging for her to come to Graceland. and elvis always treated her very well.

Another point is that elvis treater priscilla like a doll and made her dress up the way he wanted. Like priscilla literally said that’s how they both was, and she always wanted to look her best for elvis and even herself, like is that so hard to believe that woman back than put in effort to look presentable like that was the time back than. even elvis himself never showed up looking slouchy or lazy, he was always dressed well and priscilla was also dressed well.

another thing about priscilla’s personal style changing because of elvis is low key kinda weird bc i can’t be the only person that noticed this. like a lot of videos point out ‘oh when priscilla before she met elvis was really girly with long skirts and cardigans, than during elvis was shift dresses, than after elvis she started to wear pants and ‘express herself more’” like girl no. she literally just followed the fashion trends of the time. like the late 50s and 60s was that style them long skirts and blouses and cardigans and dresses and ponytails, that’s what was popular back than. she met elvis and moved in with him in about mid 60s and that’s when the shift dress and big hair became really popular and elvis may have influenced that as well but priscilla followed. than towards the end when they had there kid and priscilla started to get more freedom her style changed and she started to wear more pants and denim…. like girl it’s was literally the late 60s early 70s that was the height of fashion, like pants and denim were literally trendy and popular so ofc priscilla had to cop bc she’s the it girl. so it’s not rlly her own style like she just followed the trends and was the height of fashion.

and also kinda going back on what i said before about the grooming. that term wasn’t really coined till later and it’s kinda of a newer term because that never really happened before because back than that’s just the way of things. It was normal for a woman to get married between 14-18 to a older man in his 20’s because that was the norm back than, not necessarily in the 1960s but more true in the 1910s and before. and that only changed sort of recently because of the modernization of everything including health. because back than people married young bc a lot of folks didn’t make it to get so old. and also they didn’t encourage woman to go to school and colleges as much as they do now.

anyways that’s all i could think of for now and i’m high key getting tired of typing all this, like i havnt even written school work this long before. but yeah i hope y’all at least understand my take on this, and if you have any critiques or some u wanna say feel free to say them it’s not that deep. bye!

[honey-beann]

hi! what inspires ur writing? i love hearing what makes peoples creativity spark! i loveeeee that ur work always harmonizes together like a melody, its so beautiful!!! p.s.., ruiner, ruination needs to be in me veins. no one writes him like u do and its soooo addicting!!! p.s.p.s.., hope ur finals go well!! i understand how treacherous they can be😭

Hi!

For me, I think that what inspires my writing above all else is both the immense amount of fanfiction I have read throughout the years (a great deal of which has shaped who I am as a writer), the small details in my environment, and of course, the feedback I receive from my readers!

To elaborate a bit, when it comes to things like the small details mentioned above, I'm talking about the super inconsequential stuff that no one ever really notices. For example, I might see an extra walking quickly in the background of a movie or something, wonder what they're doing, let my mind wander for a bit, and then have that whole concept spiral into a story that ends up on this blog!

As for being inspired by my readers, this happens all of the time, from receiving asks for oneshots (some of which have even morphed into a full on series like with Home (you) or I'd Burn Every Soul I Knew (If I Thought the Fire Was Warming You)), to getting feedback that helps me keep up momentum during the times where interaction is low and I have to wonder if it makes sense to continue putting so much time and effort into the fics I'm writing. The little comments, asks, likes, kudos, etc. that I receive on my fics across the platforms I post on really help to drive my content, and even beyond just that, I also love when my readers let me know what they hope to see moving forward, so I can be inspired both by their vision alongside my own! ❤️

Anyways, sorry for the rant, and thank you so much for the ask! It is so incredibly kind of you to take the time to let me know how much you're enjoying Ruiner, Ruination, and also for you to wish me luck on my finals, and it truly does mean the world to me <3