#this got so long

[demonic0angel]

Normal City spirit Danny except villain attacks are pretty much like horrific migraines or something for the poor dude. So basically he becomes Gotham's warning system. Like it takes a while for people to realize they've got their own mothman now except theirs is a white haired boy who looks like he's going through hell.

(At this rate, I should publish this lmaooo. A series of short events where Gotham Spirit City Danny watches over random Gothamites. It gets long 💀. Also, cw: kidnapping and physical violence towards a minor at the end)

Joel the gas station employee eyed the homeless looking teen that was across the store. Said teen was staring at a pack of yogurt covered pretzels, looking dazed as he just stared mindlessly.

Joel wanted to ask if he was actually alive, but decided not to, since this was Gotham and everyone was crazy.

He continued to count the coins in the tip jar, but out of the blue, he heard a voice.

“You should go to the back room.”

Joel looked up. “Sorry?”

The teen stared at him with bright blue eyes like glowing stars. In fact, he kind of looked like he belonged to the Waynes. But that wasn’t possible, because Joel didn’t recognize him at all.

Unless he was new? But surely not… Bruce Wayne usually gave some warning before. And this kid looked homeless.

“You should go to the back room,” the boy said again.

They stared at each other. Then Joel nodded stiffly and went. He wasn’t about to question the sudden order. Not in Gotham. But before he could leave entirely, the teen called out again, “I like your pin.”

Joel turned again slowly. “What?”

“I like your pin,” the boy said, pointing to the pin in Joel’s apron that said, ‘he/him motherfucker’ over a trans flag.

Joel blinked and then smiled. “Thanks!”

The boy gave a small smile back and waved a hand for him to shoo. Joel raised an eyebrow in exasperation but nodded and moved.

Just as he ducked behind the counter to move to the back room, there was a commotion and a sudden eruption of noise and gunshots nearby. It was clearly some sort of robbery, since there was a pretty successful bodega nearby that was run by an asshole. Several bullets hit the glass of the gas station window, striking exactly where Joel was standing just moments ago.

Joel’s jaw dropped.

When he looked back at the shelves, the kid was gone and so was the bag of pretzels. The perfect amount of pay was left on the counter. Extra tips included.

————

Lina stared at the boy who was sitting on the swing. However, he wasn’t swinging, just staring at the night sky.

When she looked up to see what he was looking at, she saw a surprisingly clear sky with sparkling stars. She watched in wonder for a moment before she looked away.

Lina wasn’t supposed to be outside right now, but her friend had told her that there was a cat that wandered around the playground at night. Lina had wanted to see it, so she snuck out. Now she kind of regretted it, being so cold while it was night. But since she was already out, she was determined to wait for the cat to come out.

“Mister,” Lina said, because her mom always told her to be polite, “Are you going to swing?”

The boy turned to her and then asked, “Want me to push you?”

Lina perked up and nodded. They switched places and the boy pushed her on the swing gently. He didn’t push her as high as he could’ve, but she didn’t mind. She was still waiting for the cat. Lina told the teen as such, and he smiled at her gently, freckles across his face glowing ever so slightly like stars whenever her flying shadow passed over his face.

“That’s nice, Lina. I’m sure it’ll come soon.”

And sure enough—

“Meow!”

“Kitty!” Lina called, and she jumped off the swing in her excitement. But before she could crash onto the ground, she was plucked from the air and gently deposited onto a flat surface. Lina turned to thank the boy, her heart pounding, but when she whirled around, he was gone.

She blinked. Where was he?

Something soft brushed against her legs and she looked down, where an orange tabby was rubbing against her ankles, mewing softly for attention.

She pet the cat for a little while. A feeling washed over her, like a gentle call from her mom to come home, and Lina said goodbye to the cat and turned back to the empty playground.

“Thank you, mister!” She called. She knew it was him who had brought the cat here. A feeling like fondness washed over her again and Lina skipped all the way back home. Her mom was still asleep and the TV was still playing, but things were good. Lina crawled into her mom’s arms and slept the entire night away, dreaming of cats and stars.

————

Elizabeth sighed as she tried to straighten her poor back. Ever since last year, her bones seemed to be feeling weaker and weaker by the day. She suddenly missed her husband, when he would’ve held her hand and they would’ve walked to wherever their hearts lead them together.

She clutched her cane and started moving again.

“Excuse me,” a voice called. “Do you need some help?”

She turned and stared at a young man. He looked scruffy and somewhat dubious, but Elizabeth had an excellent judge of character. In his eyes was a sort of kindness that she hadn’t seen in a long time.

She nodded. “Please. I’m trying to get to my doctor’s appointment.”

He tilted his head but reached out to steady her gently. Together, they walked slowly as he supported her. “Why not call for a taxi, ma’am?”

“It’s not dependable,” she said. “And I cannot get off or on easily. It’s easier to walk.”

That was a lie, but what could she do? She was too tired and too weak to call for a taxi and exit on and off of it by herself.

The young man nodded. “I see. Where’s your doctor appointment, ma’am?”

She pointed to the direction and together they walked. At first, it was pleasantly silent, but she eventually asked, “Tell me about yourself, son.”

The young man laughed lightly. “There’s not much to know. I’m just someone who’s trying to get by and help others.”

“That’s a good cause, sonny. This world could always use more kindness,” she patted his hand with her crooked fingers and he gave her a small and brilliant smile.

“I’m glad. I hope to make a difference every day.” She was focused on their feet as she tried to keep steady as to not inconvenience her helper. “Oh look,” he suddenly said, “we’re here.”

She looked up and true to his word, they were in front of the clinic she used for checkups. She blinked.

She was old, but surely she wasn’t old enough to hallucinate, was she? How on earth had they gotten here so fast?

She wasn’t able to question it as the young man led her inside. Elizabeth confirmed the appointment and she had expected him to leave once he had completed his task, but he stayed with her throughout. He sat down with her in the waiting room and they chatted about anything and everything under the sun.

Elizabeth had no children and no siblings. Her husband had died and her friends were also getting old. She was lonely, but this young man was accompanying her throughout the appointment and she felt endlessly grateful that Gotham City had not snuffed out another bright light just yet.

When she was called in, the young man still followed her inside and talked to her physician for her.

She was suddenly reminded of her father, who had died when she was 42. Her father had done everything he could to provide for her and her mother until he died from murder. She was starkly reminded of his protection and how she had mourned it when it was lost.

Elizabeth felt for the first time in a long time, like she was a young girl being protected by her father again.

When the appointment was over and Elizabeth was prescribed new medications, she was led outside by the young man again.

“Thank you so much, dear,” she said, a little teary eyed, “I appreciate the company and the help.”

The young man guided her to her apartment and said, “I’m just doing whatever I can as one person in this world. It’s the only thing I can do, y’know?”

They parted on good terms and it was only later as she sat in her home, that she realized that she had never asked for his name.

There was nothing to remember that kind young man by other than her waning memory and his act of kindness.

In her pocket, however, was a mysterious card for a free taxi service funded by Wayne Enterprises.

————

Tom and his friends were playing a game of heroes, with Red Hood as the hero and the other Bats as the villains. Tom was lucky enough to win the game of rock-paper-scissors and was Red Hood, valiant and brave with a pair of guns in order to protect Crime Alley.

“Alright, Batman!” Tom crowed. “This’s the end of the line for you!”

Maria, the only girl of the group, glared at him theatrically and flapped the ends of the jacket tied around her neck. “Red Hood, I’ll defeat you! For Justice!”

She waved her hand and their friends, who filled in the place of the other Bats, rushed at Tom with a war cry. Tom grinned and ran away from them with a loud laugh.

They passed through several alleys in their game of play, passing by no one but a boy with black hair and a girl with red hair. Tom didn’t really pay attention, just trying not to be tagged. But it didn’t matter, because no matter what, Red Hood was always able to get away and save the day!

Tom cheered as he pretended to shoot the Bats with his toy guns that he got for Christmas last year, and his friends all groaned and pretended to die dramatically. George, who was playing Red Robin, engaged in a fake battle with him as the others laughed and watched.

Tom was completely enthralled in their pretend play, when he suddenly froze with the sound of a car door being opened far too close and the sound of footsteps.

Oh no. Tom immediately grabbed at George and they were bolting down the streets they came from. They ran like their lives depended on it, because it quite literally did. But it was too late. Davis, one of the slower runners, was captured.

Tom turned and gasped at the sight of Davis struggling and kicking within the hold of a trafficker. “No! Get away from him!”

“Get the kids!” The man shouted as Davis screamed, and they all screamed as more men rushed into the alleys to grab them.

Tom screamed for Red Hood, Batman, anybody and popped off his fake guns. It did nothing but make loud sounds from the tiny amounts of gunpowder in it that Tom was saving. Still, he needed to do something. The sounds didn’t scare the men as they grabbed at him next.

Tom scratched and bit and struggled, but it was useless as he was hauled into the back of the van. Even as he knocked against the van’s door, making even louder noises to draw attention, it was hopeless as he was tossed inside. Jim, the smallest member of their group, was crying and Maria was knocked out, slumped next to a shuddering George. Alan and Davis were also captured and they were trembling.

There were also two other people, one with black hair and one with red hair. They seemed angry, and the teenage boy seemed especially cold while the young woman looked furious.

Tom glared at the traffickers. “You won’t get away with this! Red Hood is going to kill you!”

After all, Red Hood hated anyone who hurt kids. With him in Crime Alley, kids were now secure and safe under his protective wings.

Tom was immediately backhanded. He fell back, pain bursting from his cheek and he whimpered, tears in his eyes. Alan grabbed at him worriedly and pulled him away from the traffickers’ hands.

“Shut up, brat! Just wait and see! The Red Hood ain’t shit in these parts!” Then the door of the van closed. Tom and George lunged forward to bang on the door to no avail.

“Red Hood! Red Hood!! Help!”

As the van began to move, Tom choked back his tears. No, he couldn’t cry.

He was Red Hood for today. He was supposed to be brave.

Maria woke up then and started crying. The sound set off the other kids and Tom barely resisted crying too. Suddenly, the woman with red hair in the corner of the van opened up her arms. “Shh, shhh, come here.”

Realizing that there were adults in the situation, Jim and Maria went into her arms. She rubbed their heads and soothed them softly. Alan and George looked at her and the boy next to her with hope.

“Hey! Can’t you get us out?” George asked urgently.

The woman shook her head, but gave a small smile. “We’ll be okay. You just have to have hope.”

Tom bristled, scared for his life and irritated by the presence of other adults. His tears hadn’t fallen yet, but it was a very close thing. “So you don’t have anything? Figures.”

The boy spoke up, “Red Hood will come get you. You’ll be just fine.”

Tom looked down at the dirty floor of the van. How could he believe that now? He wanted to believe it, but what would he do if it was only false hope? If he and his friends got hurt, it would’ve been his fault because he was the one who led them too far away from home.

The boy gave a small smile, similar to the woman next to him. In fact, they were both weirdly comforting and familiar, like old family friends. He opened up his own arms and said, “Come here.”

Tom inched closer and leaned against him, as George and Alan also came closer. Davis squished himself between the two and all of them were being comforted by the two older people. Tom sniffed, and the teen started talking in a comforting tone, rubbing at his back.

“You’ll be okay. Close your eyes. When you wake up, Red Hood will be here to save you… that’s it. It’s alright, we’re here to protect you. Gotham City is on your side, little ones….”

When Tom snapped awake, he was shocked to find himself being held and carried by Red Hood. “Red Hood?!”

Tom startled, but the Red Hood just readjusted his grip and said, “Careful, kid. Your friends are over there.”

Tom leaned over Red Hood’s broad shoulders and looked for his friends. True to his words, they were next to Batman and the other Bats and Birds. Maria was being held by Batgirl and excitedly gesturing, while his other friends were chattering away to Batman, who was smiling.

Red Hood began to approach them.

“You did good,” Red Hood suddenly said. Tom looked up at him and the Red Hood tilted his helmet downwards at him. “You made a ruckus and got my attention. Good job.”

Tom looked guiltily down at his hands. “No… I was the one who led my friends too far… I got us captured.”

“It’s not your fault,” Red Hood said. “You’re not to blame because some sick ass— er, some sick jerks decided to take kids. You did good and that’s final.” He ruffled Tom’s hair.

Tom giggled and then nodded, chest warm. He couldn’t believe he was meeting his idol and was saved by him too! Then he asked, looking around for the woman with red hair and the other teen, “Where’re the other two?”

“Other two?” Red Hood asked curiously. “We only saw you six kids alone in the van.”

Tom paused for a moment and then shook his head. “Never mind. Musta been my imagination.”

Gotham City was a mysterious place. Who was Tom to question it?

However, he still silently thanked the two strangers. He was sure that they had been the ones to help them.

Some distance away, two spirits stood on the roof of a nearby building and watched the commotion.

“It’s a good thing we were able to find Jason in time, huh, Jazz?”

“Mhm. I’m glad those kids are going to be okay. Thank goodness the Bats responded in time.”

“Of course. With my protection and your help, we’ll help them save this city. So…. Meet up next week?”

“Yep! See you then, Danny!”

[stillgotscars]

there’s only one more eras show left, meaning:

one last transition from “applause” into the “you don’t own me” countdown

one last eras tour intro

one last “oh HI!”

one last “does anyone here know the lyrics to this bridge? PROVE IT!”

one last “you’ve got me feeling really, extremely… powerful”

one last “LET ME! SEE YOUR! HANDS!”

one last “what an absolute honor it is to say these words to you: [insert city], welcome to the eras tour”

one last “so you and i, we’re about to go on a little adventure together”

one last endearing “i’ll be your host this evening, my name is taylor”

one last fearless twirl

one last “it’s fearless” followed by the entire crowd holding up a hand heart

one last “are you ready to go back to high school with me?”

one last *clap clap* during you belong with me

one last heart-warming 22 hat exchange

one last comical quip from kam during wanegbt

one last “do you have 10 minutes to spare?”

one last extravagant ballgown appearance for all of one (1) song during the speak now set

one last “1, 2, 3, let’s go bitch!”

one last “do the girls back home touch you like i do?” *shakes head*

one last “don’t blame me for what. you. made. me. DO.”

one last “and so we’ve brought the folklore cabin to [insert city]”

one last minutes-long standing ovation after champagne problems

one last august run

one last illicit affairs bridge in all its glory

one last “and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, JUST. NOT. HOME.”

one last lighting up the entire stadium with phone flashlights for marjorie

one last thunder and lightning transition from marjorie to willow

one last willow coven dance

one last golf club swing during the blank space bridge

one last pavlovian stress response during bad blood as a lasting consequence of the original set list

one last collective gasp when the pyro starts during bad blood

one last archer pose before so high school

one last roomba appearance

one last alien abduction metaphor brought to life during down bad

one last the smallest man who ever lived bridge being cathartically scream-sung by thousands of people all at once

one last attempt to make taylor break during the icdiwabh skit

one last “i’ve been doing it since he left” note change

one last “try. and come. for. my. job.”

one last surprise song set

one last stage dive after just causing mass emotional devastation

one last garter reveal

one last “except when i’m on tv” pose

one last vigilante shit performance

one last “do you have time for one more song?”

one last final bow as confetti falls to the ground

eras tour (march 2023 - december 2024), you will be remembered 💚💛💜♥️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍

[acowardinmordor]

I kinda want a fic where Eddie is straight. Strong Ally, totally safe, but the guy is straight. There's a few months after they successfully take down Vecna that he and Robin and Steve are all besties, living in each others' pockets. During that time, he makes a lot of jokes that Steve is going to make a great housewife someday, makes some comments that aren't quite jokes that he wishes Steve was a girl, and has some very much suppressed thoughts that the only thing stopping them is that Eddie isn't attracted to men.

Near the end of the summer, before Steve is going to follow Robin to Sarah Lawrence, Steve comes out as bi to the whole group, and Eddie, for the first time, unashamedly thinks, damn, if only I wasn't straight. Steve even gets brave a few days before they leave and broaches the topic of Steve having a crush on Eddie. Keeps saying that he's not going to hit on Eddie, but wanted to take the chance, just in case Eddie had ever thought about it.

"Sorry, Steve, I only date girls."

And the awkwardness isn't the only reason the three drift apart, but it doesn't help. They send letters and post cards between Chicago and New York, and try to call at least once a month, but they're all broke, and long distance is expensive. Two years out, and Eddie knows something weird is happening with Steve and Robin, but they don't want to talk about it. They still talk, they're still friends, they'd still die for each other, but there is something they're hiding from him. Three and a half years out, and the bureaucrats finally got their act together. 'Thanks for not telling anybody' checks get sent to everyone in the know. Very large checks.

Robin graduates, and she and Stevie have a comfortable cushion. They don't have to take horrible minimum wage jobs anymore, and some expensive things they've been saving up to do for a while can finally happen.

This is where the fic in my head actually starts.

Eddie hears all about Los Angeles from Robin, but she tells him that Stevie isn't feeling great after the trip, and that Eddie will get a letter soon.

Its four months later, almost exactly four years since the three last saw each other in person when they finally meet again. Robin got a job in Chicago, and Eddie is still there, now a full artist in a tattoo parlor, playing gigs for fun with random friends. Stevie, of course, follows Robin, and Eddie tries hard not to stay upset with the guy for the weirdness and the sometimes silence, and the very obvious distance that Steve put between them recently.

Then they see each other. Meeting up at what has to be the queerest bar in the city, and it takes Eddie way, way too long to put together what's waiting at a booth along the wall. He's an ally, he's heard all the terms and types and nodded along in supportive silence because he doesn't get it, but he's trying.

But there's Robin, sitting on the outside, with a brunette beside her, possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie has ever seen, strong, tall, long wavy chestnut hair, and a spattering of very distinct moles. The little bit of a smile she has when Eddie first comes over melts into something small and scared as Eddie stares in shock. It's Stevie, it has to be, and Robin's exclusive use of what was once only a nickname suddenly makes more sense. He knows he needs to make sure he's using the right name, pronouns, whatever she wants. He's friend of a friend with a couple trans people, and again, he doesn't get it, but he listened, and he cannot fuck this up, because it's Stevie and this must be what they were hiding, but the inside of his brain sounds like an endless loop of mic feedback for a solid sixty seconds.

Sixty seconds is an insanely long time.

Before his brain turns over and he can smile and reach the table, Stevie has shrunk into the corner, and Robin looks ready to launch herself at Eddie's throat in her soulmate's defense.

A whole list of intrusive thoughts hit Eddie all at once while his mouth runs on autopilot, asking the right questions, smiling encouragingly, introducing himself to, yes, Stevie Harrington, and dragging the mood to a happy place by sheer force of will. Stevie starts to uncurl, smiles a little brighter, sits up straight, laughs properly at Eddie's dumb stories about terrible tattoos, and leans closer as the night goes on.

He fixes the weirdness he started in his shock, because there is no way in hell he's not going to keep two of his best friends now that they live in the same city again.

But his head is stuck spiraling around a snarl of horrible, selfish, invasive thoughts. The worst of which: Stevie is now Stevie because Eddie told her that he only liked girls. And he knows thats stupid and isn't why Stevie made this choice, and he hates himself for thinking it, but the thought is still there. That Eddie wanted so badly that she's now Stevie. Another, only slightly less horrible thought, is that the immediate fairytale ending he imagined on first sight - might be ruined because Eddie is still straight, and he's just not sure about, you know, the details.

Eddie did a great job that first night, and they're back to hanging out all the time as soon as the last boxes are unpacked. It is not Stevie's fault that seeing her in a sports bra for the once confirmed that the payouts, the LA trip, and her new shirt size were related. It's not her fault that Eddie can't stop thinking about how hot she is.

It's absolutely not her fault that Eddie starts getting weird around her. He's trying, okay? He's trying so hard. But its weird for him. He likes her. That part he's certain of. Loves her, almost definitely. He thinks she's gorgeous, high confidence on that part too. He has a crush, but he knows, deeper than the rest, that Stevie isn't confident in herself yet. She acts it most of the time, but its under the surface, a thread of fear that she's not girl enough to count.

And Eddie has a crush. And Eddie can't tell her. Because Eddie won't put them in a situation where Stevie's pants come off, and Eddie suddenly can't see her as the woman she is. It would hurt Stevie so bad, and Eddie would never forgive himself.

It's not like he can ask her just how much surgery she got in LA so he can prepare. And honestly, he's not sure it would matter one way or the other. He's terrified that whatever her choice, Eddie will fuck up his reaction. The risk is unsolvable. Robin calls him out on his crush two months later, and since the other choice is even worse, Eddie lies, and says she's wrong. No crush. Nope. Not even a tiny one.

Eddie tries to will himself into becoming bisexual for an entire month, going so far as making out with a very feminine twink at a club - he thought he'd ease his way into this - but he's still decidedly straight. Rubbing against the twink's remarkably small dick wasn't repulsive, but it didn't do anything for him either. Sure, he learns there's all kinds of pleasurable things to try that he didn't know about, but he's still not into anyone but girls.

(I don't know if this is the right resolution bc Ive spun Eddie pretty tight here, but this is getting so long. )

Robin's girlfriend has a party at a gay bar for her birthday. Obviously, Eddie and Stevie are invited, and obviously, just like every other day on this earth, Stevie looks incredible. She has a sparkly dress and tall boots and glitter on her collarbones and Eddie wants to lick her. His lovelorn staring only gets worse as the night goes on. Stevie is dancing, and Eddie is drinking at the bar with a collection of purses and carabiners of keys slung around and clipped to him. It's obvious enough that a gay couple - Nick and Chris - starts teasing him about it, telling him to man up and ask the pretty girl to dance already.

Eddie is too drunk for this, and he for sure has a guilt trip later for it, but he just starts talking. All of his fears and all of his love, and how he can't ever say anything because he's tried, and he's straight anyway, and he loves Stevie too much to hurt her like that. It's an entire miracle that Eddie broke down in front of a decent pair of human beings, and not some assholes. They sweep him off to a quieter corner outside, help him calm down as he smokes, and feed him some fries.

Eddie is still wearing purses like bandoliers, is snotty and red eyed, is on his third cigarette and fourth whiskey, and resisting the need to runaway forever when the older of the couple calls over someone named Angel. A woman who, if Eddie was not hopelessly in love with Stevie, would be the source of an immediate new crush. She's older than he is, thin through the waist, thick thighs, bottle blonde hair in a ponytail, and has a few inches on Eddie with her heels. The primal part of his brain wants to climb her like a tree.

'Hi Chris. Oh, honey, you having a rough night?" Angel has a few words with Chris, then grins like the cat who caught the canary.

'You're gonna be my good karma for the month, cutie. You are attracted to me, no don't try, thats a cute blush but I can still see it behind your hair, you are. You're straight, right? Yeah, that's why you think I'm hot. Hey, Chris? Do you think I'm hot?"

"Not at all, babe. You know I only go for men."

Angel turns back to Eddie and leans close to explain. 'Chris is a bit of a man whore. Loooooves dick. Don't worry, he says it all the time. Favorite thing in the world, and I've heard he's great at sucking dick. Tragically, I never get to find out, because I'm not a guy.' She pushes the word a little. Then she steps even closer so she's pressed against his side.

Arousal sweeps through him because in love with Stevie or not, Angel is hot as hell. 'Wanna go fool around in the bathroom?' she whispers

Eddie is definitely tempted, already nodding, but doesn't get to speak. Angel rolls her hips. He feels -- A new bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. 'this change your mind at all?' Her voice drops two octaves, and Eddie's brain breaks.

Because, as it turns out, no. No, it does not change his mind. He's half hard, he still wants to climb her, and he's not entirely sure how to get her off, but he takes direction well.

'Aww, figure yourself out, already, honey? Or do you want to test run this a bit more before you go for it?' Angel is back to her real voice, a high alto. She has one hand on his chest, and Eddie can hear Nick laughing nearby. 'I won't lie, I know I won't get to keep you, but you look like we could have a real fun time as I teach you. Happy to get you trained up for her'

Eddie shakes his head, an insane mix of bubbly and numb.

'Ohhh, so you're gonna go get your girl?' She's teasing him.

Eddie nods, already moving, vaguely aware of more laughter and jokes about karma and saving lost lambs, but too fixated to listen. He's still carrying all the purses. He's not entirely sure where Stevie is in the bar. He has absolutely no idea what he's going to say when he finds her. Still not sure how to worship her properly. Extremely interested in following directions on the topic.

Eddie is still straight, but luckily, the girl of his dreams is dancing inside, and the rest of the details don't matter in the face of the possibility of finally asking her out.

When he finally chases her down at a high top with a cosmo, she laughs at how he looks, but he's never, ever seen her smile like she does when she agrees to a date with him.

--

This is sort of about a friend as they worked through realizing they weren't attracted to their wife after she transitioned, but that was sad, and this needed to not be. I guess I'm just thinking about the non-fanfic nature of life. Where it takes a guy a long while to figure himself out, because good intentions are separate from shifting how you think. Basically wanted Eddie in a situation where he has to reconcile the difference between gender and anatomy, and rewrite his own definitions of what he is and isn't attracted to. Robin had to go through a similar thing as she became attracted to Steve but only in the abstract. They're too platonic for gender to stop their bond

[traumasurvivors]

Honestly, it’s exhausting running a positivity blog. There is so much negativity on my posts. Sometimes aggressive, or people saying “this doesn’t apply to me” or “this doesn’t apply in this situation though”. And it’s tiring. It’s tiring to read through my activity feed. Sometimes I’m trying so hard to be positive and offer supportive words and the negativity hits me a lot harder when I’m in a depressive episode. I genuinely feel exhausted by a lot of the comments people leave.

I’m not saying this for sympathy or even to whine but I kind of want to talk about it because I don’t think most people do this intentionally and maybe there’s a chance that when they realize the negative effects their comments can have might think twice? It’s not just me that finds this draining. I see it everywhere.

Someone posts a video of their popular dog and there are comments “oh my god, I’m going to be so sad when the dog dies” and I’ve seen owners politely asking people not to leave comments like that because it’s upsetting to think about. But they’re endless. I get so heartbroken thinking about the day my dog dies, and I know it’s inevitable but if I had people reminding me on all my posts about my dog, I’d be so upset.

I’ll see someone share a video of a happy moment with their family and the comments are full of people talking about how “it must be nice. My family isn’t like that”. And your feelings are so valid. You deserve to be able to talk about it. I’m just asking that maybe you think about where you’re talking about it.

I make a post that says something like “be gentle with your past self” and there will be dozens of comments and asks I receive that say “no fuck that bitch.” Like you’re so allowed to feel that way, but it’s tiring to get asks about it.

I know there will be people who go on about “it’s a public platform. You sign up for this”. But whether that’s true or not, I still think it’s worth saying because it might open someone’s eyes.

There will also be people who say “if you can’t handle it, stay off the internet”. Me venting about it, or saying that it’s frustrating doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. It just means I’m coping by talking about my feelings. That’s all.

[foggieststars]

Your carcar fic was one of the first fic I read in the carcar fandom and it changed my life 🙂‍↕️

Can I request ignored safeword + carcar? If you’re interested, would also love to see if it can be combined with 23. Possession. Thank you❣️

from the kink prompt asks here, tysm for your lovely words and such a fun prompt!!

-

They can’t have been going for longer than an hour, but time is slipping away from Carlos. He’s trussed up like a party favour, face-down on the bed, hands lashed to the headboard, tied together with the neat safety knots that Oscar favours. Carlos has made fun of him more than once for it, asking him if he’d yet earned his merit badge for knot-tying. He doesn’t feel like making fun of Oscar now.��

His hands are sore where the rope’s chafing against his wrists, and his ass is killing him. It’s not sexy anymore, not like it was at the start, when the sting of the paddle against his skin was something searing, something that made him feel loose and disconnected from his body. That time has passed, along with his second orgasm. 

Oscar stopped using the paddle after the first, swapped it for the skin-to-skin sting of his hand, and that was nice. But now, Carlos’ cock is starting to chafe against the bedsheets, dried come making him feel grimy and unwashed. The vibrating plug nestled right up against his prostate has tipped over from pleasurable to overwhelming. 

He can sense Oscar just behind him, hovering just out of range.

“Oscar,” Carlos croaks. “Oscar - can we stop?” 

There’s silence from behind him, no indication that Oscar’s heard him. Carlos doesn’t - when he gets like this, he doesn’t always have the best handle on how loud he’s being. More than once, Oscar’s had to shush him when he’s fucking him in Carlos’ driver’s room. 

He thought he’d been pretty loud. Carlos licks his lips, filmy with dried spit, tries again. “Oscar,” he says. “Oscar - please.” 

Carlos waits for Oscar to laugh, to give some indication that he’s just joking around. That he’s going to untie Carlos’ hands, massage them with the moisturising cream Oscar bought specifically for the occasion. There’s nothing; just the sound of Oscar’s quiet breathing. And then, the gentle sound of a button being pressed. If the room wasn’t so quiet, Carlos wouldn’t have heard it. But it is, and he did - and more than that, he can feel it. The vibrations of the plug ratchet up a notch, and his back draws tight like a bow. Carlos tries not to thrash, but the feeling is so overwhelming - a cold sort of pleasure, a sweat breaking on his brow. 

He feels like a broken record. “Oscar - I want… red. Red, please - I can’t anymore.”

Oscar does laugh then, at the sound of their safeword. Sweat’s dripping from Carlos’ forehead now. The pleasure is so overwhelming like this, focused on that tight bundle of nerves. Nothing he can grasp at with his hands to channel some of the energy, no way to work out the pain. 

And then - “You asked for this, remember?” Oscar says. Carlos’ stomach gives a painful lurch at the realisation that Oscar’s genuinely not moving, that saying red hasn’t done anything, and then it’s a sickening freefall into oblivion. 

Carlos does remember, is the worst part. After two glasses of wine last week with dinner, curled up on the sofa, enjoying a rare moment of private time. He’d said - he’d asked Oscar to do this. To ignore it when Carlos begged him to stop. Ignore it, even if Carlos uses his safeword. Oscar had been concerned by the idea. Carlos had pushed. It’s his fault. 

It’s Carlos’ fault that this is happening to him.  

It’s a strange feeling, the sensation of pure, unadulterated panic. It’s not something Carlos is accustomed to feeling with Oscar. To know that there’s genuinely no way out - nothing he can say to get Oscar to stop doing this to him. It’s electrifying and horrifying in equal measure. 

“Oscar–” Carlos croaks, hissing when the vibrations increase again. He can feel his legs moving on the bed, but there’s no control behind it, nothing he can do to stop it. “I - Oscar, I can’t – can’t anymore,” he says - begs, really. “I’m sorry,” he finishes weakly, hating the feeling that he’s letting Oscar down, denying him what he wants. But Carlos really doesn’t think it’s possible for Oscar to wring another orgasm out of him - he’s so sore. Probably doesn’t help that the two of them have been fucking like rabbits basically since the season ended, no concern for sore muscles or tight backs when they don’t have to be in the car again for months. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Oscar says, voice steady. “Be better.” 

Those works sink into Carlos slowly, the steady drip of their impact muted, like he’s underwater. How many times has he heard those words - from his coaches, from his father? And now. From Oscar.

“Because you can be,” Oscar continues. “You’ll give me another one, right?” 

Oscar’s doing what Carlos asked him to do. He’s ignoring the safeword. Pushing Carlos past his self-imposed limits. Carlos scrunches his eyes closed, takes a steadying breath, ignoring the feeling of blood pounding in his head. 

Oscar moves closer, thighs bracketing Carlos’ own. He can hear the material of Oscar’s shorts rustle as he moves. “You’ve been so good for me,” he practically croons. He’s certainly improved at the whole dirty talk thing. Especially compared with the start of the season, when he could barely say the word cock without blushing. “So good, and all mine, Carlos.” 

Mine. The word reverberates around Carlos’ mind, driving him to distraction. 

Oscar’s hands smooth over the sore skin of Carlos’ ass, the skin hot to the touch. His hands are blessedly cool. And then, like the shock of touching a livewire, Oscar’s fingers find the base of the plug. He twists it in a cruel motion, bearing down on the base of it. The pressure is unrelenting, almost unbearable. 

“You can do it, right?” Oscar asks. “Just one more. One more and I’ll untie you.” 

Carlos opens his eyes, stares at the crumpled bedsheets in front of him, and lets the word no die on his tongue. 

He lets his head hang between his shoulders, no longer trying to crane around to look Oscar in the eyes. He dips his head once, a slow, purposeful motion, to communicate to Oscar what he’s asking. What he’s agreeing to. He can’t say it out loud - can’t be party to his own unmaking in such an intimate way. This will have to be enough. 

It seems it is, for Oscar at least. He moves closer, and his hands roam the bare planes of Carlos’ skin. His ass, his lower back. Oscar presses his thumbs into the dimples of Carlos’ spine, hitches his hips higher in the air. It helps take some of the pressure off his shoulders, and like an idiot - like some unthinking, drooling whore - Carlos can’t help but arch into it. 

His cock’s half-hard, probably the most it can manage after two orgasms already, leaking steadily like a tap. Carlos cries out when Oscar wraps his hand around it, thumbing over the stickiness, spreading it around the length of him. Even that stimulation is too much, and he bucks backwards, trying to escape it, only to find Oscar’s crotch pressed against his ass. 

Carlos can feel his cock, hard and wanting. Oscar grunts slightly, no doubt as a result of the vibrations from the plug pressed up against his dick. With his free hand, he bumps the vibrations up another couple of notches, until Carlos really can’t handle it anymore. He thrashes violently against the restraints, anything to escape, anything to get away from the steady creep of pleasure-pain that threatens to overwhelm all his senses. 

He screams when Oscar reaches for the plug again, twists it cruelly, hand still stroking his cock gently, steadily. It’s a crude facsimile of fucking, Carlos realises. Between Oscar’s hand on his dick and on the plug, Carlos is rocking back and forth between the stimulation. He keeps bumping against the hard planes of Oscar’s body. 

It’s not a choice, not really. It’s the illusion of one, whether to buck into Oscar’s hand or to let him force the plug against that bundle of nerves. It’s a flagrant attempt at undoing, at complete surrender. 

Whatever it is, it’s working. 

Carlos can feel it approaching, drawing up from deep within him. He’s never - not since he was a horny teenager has he been able to come in such quick succession. 

That’s what initially drew him to Oscar. His sense of responsibility, his work ethic. Carlos recognised something within him, something similar enough to make him reach out, even though he couldn’t stand the guy on track. And look at where it’s gotten him. 

Carlos can feel himself quivering. He grasps the headboard as best he can with his hands tied, something to hold onto. To ground him. 

Oscar leans forward, covering Carlos’ back with his chest. Skin on skin, sweaty and sticking. 

“C’mon,” Oscar pants, breathless himself now. “Just one more. For me.” 

Carlos cries out at a particularly vicious thrust of the plug, Oscar’s hand tightening around his cock. It’s coming, and it hurts, it’s too much too much too much –

Carlos comes with a yell, still only half-hard. There’s barely a dribble of come, his cock spent and sore. His vision goes fuzzy, or he nearly passes out, he’s not sure. All he can feel is the overwhelming pain-pleasure. It aches, like sinking your fingers into a bruise. There’s enough pleasure to drown out the sharpest edges of it, but only just. 

There’s a sickening moment, where Oscar’s hand remains on his cock, heel of his other palm pressed to the plug, still vibrating. Oscar could - if he wanted to. He could do anything. Carlos asked him to. 

Thankfully, he decides Carlos has had enough. The plug stops vibrating, but Oscar doesn’t take it out. He does take his hand off Carlos’ cock though, for which Carlos is grateful. 

Oscar undoes the ties with a deft movement, and Carlos definitely won’t be making fun of him for tying quick-release knots anytime soon. He pitches face-first onto the bed, arms too weak to hold him up. 

Oscar snickers behind him, and then there are hands, cool and callused on his sides, rolling him onto his back. Finally, Carlos can look at Oscar’s face. He’s flushed pink with exertion, spreading down to his chest. 

Oscar presses in close, kneeling over Carlos’ thighs. “That was so good,” he says, and despite it all Carlos feels the familiar hum of pleasure rush through him. A job well-done. “Fucking unbelievable,” Oscar says. “Fuck.” 

Carlos hums, suddenly bone-tired. He wants to smile, reach out for Oscar, but his body won’t do what he’s telling it to. 

Oscar seems to realise that. He cradles Carlos’ face in between his hands, presses a searing kiss to his mouth. 

It’s long, heated and slow, and ends with a healthy dose of tongue. It’s - Oscar’s licking him, Carlos thinks absurdly, and then realises. He’s licking the tears from Carlos’ face. Tears, because Carlos has started crying. When, he’s not sure. It should frighten him, to feel this disconnected from his own body. 

It doesn’t though. Not when Oscar’s holding him like this. 

They kiss for a long time, long enough for Carlos to again grow aware of how desperately he needs a shower. He’s sticky with dried come and sweat, and he feels disgusting. He wants a bath - maybe with those special bath oils Oscar’s trainer likes him to use. 

He also grows aware of another pressing matter - hard, throbbing, and right up against his hip. 

Carlos doesn’t have the energy to move his head, gestures weakly to Oscar’s crotch. “I could - with my mouth?” He offers weakly, still massaging feeling back into his wrists. 

Oscar frowns at him, tilts his head. “Why would I want your mouth?” he asks. Carlos doesn’t understand. Not until he continues – “When you’ve got a perfectly good hole right here.”

He’s tracing around the edge of Carlos’ rim, stretched around the base of the plug. Carlos shudders, shoulders going tight. Oscar pulls it out in one slow movement, lingering at the widest part of it, stretching him out even more. Until suddenly, blissfully, it’s out, and tossed onto the bedsheets. 

“Spent all that time getting you ready for me,” Oscar shrugs. “Be a waste not to put it to good use.” He punctuates the statement with his fingers, two of them, stuffed unceremoniously inside Carlos. 

Carlos makes a noise so high-pitched he’d thought himself incapable of it. He’s loose from the plug, and it’s - he can’t tighten up, not even around two of Oscar’s fingers. He can feel his hole clenching desperately.

“Yeah,” Oscar laughs. “You want it.” 

Carlos shakes his head, doesn’t know how he could possibly muster up the energy to let Oscar - after three.  

“No?” Oscar probes, with his voice and his fingers. He locates Carlos’ prostate with ease - he’s spent all afternoon torturing it, after all - and bears down with his fingers. 

Carlos’ cock twitches, weakly against his thigh. Oscar laughs at the sight of it, and Carlos barely resists the urge to cover himself with his hands. He’s not - before Oscar. He’s not used to this, he’s never… he’s always been the one in charge. He’d thought that would continue with Oscar. Hadn’t expected to be shown another way, 

“Seems like you do,” Oscar comments, like he’s discussing the weather. 

That’s not fair, Carlos wants to tell him. It’s just a bodily reaction - nothing he can help. 

“I’m tired,” Carlos tries, knowing there’s no way out. No escape. 

Hating, more than anything, that he likes that. 

Oscar smiles at him. It’s nothing different to his usual smile - goofy, wide, kind. Front teeth hooking on the skin of his bottom lip. But the words he’s saying are a stark contrast to his expression. “You just lie there - let me take care of you. And this hungry little hole.”

Carlos could move, now he’s been untied. He might be shorter than him, but he’s stronger than Oscar. And his exhausted muscles aren’t that much of a challenge - not really. He’s clambered into the car feeling worse than this, hurled himself around corners going hundreds of miles per hour. He could get up, wrestle Oscar into submission. If he wanted to. 

He doesn’t move.

And it’s that inaction which damns him. 

Oscar’s quick about it, fumbling for the lube, lost in the bedsheets when he’d first opened Carlos up on his fingers, eased the plug into him until Carlos was babbling. He slicks up his cock with efficient movements, spreads Carlos’ thighs wide with his hands. 

They end up hooked around Oscar’s hips. Like this, Carlos is terribly exposed. He can feel his hole clenching in desperation, his body betraying him. He’s spent and exhausted, but he still wants. 

That’s always been his problem. He’s always wanted too much, the weight of his desire threatening to swallow him up. It usually winds up in disappointment. He’d thought, signing with Ferrari - that might - but no. They hadn’t wanted him either, in the end. The depth of his desire too much for anyone to handle. 

Maybe apart from Oscar. 

His hole flutters when Oscar presses the spongy head of his dick to it, and Oscar laughs, watching the point of connection between their bodies. “Look at that,” he comments, and Carlos feels his cheeks burn. 

Oscar moans as he slides into Carlos, and the feeling is mutual. His cock isn’t as thick as the plug, but it’s longer, penetrating deeper into Carlos. His hole is sore with overstimulation, but it still feels good. Good in a way it hasn’t with anyone else for a long time - in a way only Oscar can bring out of him, these days.

Oscar doesn’t waste any time, rutting into him with abandon. He pulls out as far as he can without sliding out completely, slams home with a muffled grunt. 

“So good for me,” Oscar says, voice tight and strained. “Carlos, fuck,” he groans. “So tight. All for me, yeah?” 

Carlos nods, licks his cracked lips. “Yours,” he agrees, squeezing his tired legs around Oscar’s hips. 

Another surprising thing about Oscar. He’s sort of possessive. Hand on the back of Carlos’ neck, brushing against his waist when they cross paths in the paddock. Like a claiming, a reminder. Of who he belongs to. 

“Knew you could take it,” Oscar rasps. “Never enough for you, is it? Always - fuck, always want more.”

Carlos’ face burns at the truth in Oscar’s words, and he nods, looking down and away. Well, trying to at least, because Oscar’s hand on his chin stops him before he can. Hips still pistoning, Oscar yanks Carlos back to face him. Until he has no choice but to meet Oscar’s gaze. 

“Don’t you?” Oscar demands. 

Carlos really might fall to pieces, soon. 

“Yes,” he gasps, at a particularly vicious thrust. “Yes, I want - Oscar.” 

That seems to be answer enough for Oscar, who buries his face in the joint between Carlos’ shoulder and his neck. Licking and sucking at the sweaty skin there, leaving marks they can only get away with for a brief window of time. 

It feels good, like this. His cock is lying limp against his stomach, no chance of hardening again. Carlos doesn’t think he could come again even if Oscar fucked him for hours - like he’s passed some invisible threshold. But it’s nice, like this. It’s a gentle, warming sort of pleasure, one that fills him up from the inside. 

He’s still crying, Carlos notes with some surprise. It’s not bad though, not like this, with Oscar pressed up inside of him, covering him with his body. The surrendering of control, the thing Carlos has always hated, feared the most. It’s not as bad as he’d thought it would be. 

Oscar’s thrusts turn jerky and uncoordinated, his groaning louder. He’d not touched his cock once, during the time Carlos spent tied up. He must be pretty close, need it badly. 

Carlos tilts his hips up, squeezes around Oscar’s cock as best he can. Oscar’s breathing and the sound of the bed creaking under their combined weights are the only sounds, aside from the blood rushing in his ears. 

“Oscar,” Carlos says. He threads his heavy, uncooperative arms around Oscar’s neck, cards through the hair starting to curl with sweat. “I want it - please.” 

It’s as close to begging as he’s yet come. Not in words perhaps, but in meaning. He wants to feel Oscar finish inside him, wants to feel that stamp of ownership he can’t even truly admit to himself that he craves. 

“You want it?” Oscar asks, breathing raggedly. “I know you do. Come on,” he says, hands finding Carlos’ hips, thrusting harder, harder. 

“Fuck,” Oscar pants. “So good, so - Carlos,” he nearly growls out the name. “Can’t believe you,” Oscar says. “Fucking insane, the things you let me - oh, fuck,” Oscar says, and then his hips are stuttering once, twice, and he’s spilling, hot and sticky inside of Carlos. 

It should be disgusting. It is, a bit. 

It’s nice, all the same. 

Oscar keeps fucking into him, until his cock softens enough to slip out. It’s only then, after an indeterminable length of time, that Oscar finally collapses next to him on the bed. He’s breathing hard, like he’s just finished a race, but he looks quietly satisfied. There’s a glow off him. Carlos thinks he might look similarly, from the smile Oscar gives him when their eyes meet. 

“What do you say?” Oscar asks, quiet voice somehow loud in the silent room. 

There’s a halting pause, where Carlos thinks it over. He’d asked Oscar for this. To wrest control from his grasp, push him beyond his self-imposed boundaries. To say - to lay himself bare for Oscar like that… 

There’s no coming back from that. 

Oscar watches him with a quiet smile, like he can read every thought thrumming through Carlos’ overtired mind. Carlos wonders if he knows before Carlos himself does when he makes the decision. When he opens his mouth. 

“Thank you,” Carlos says, and somehow, agonisingly, finds that he means it. 

[loveandleases]

"Say you want me" For cam 👀

Hey~ It's been so long since I've done a prompt. Thought this prompt list was a good way to get back into it, Below the cut~ (Going to go with college Cam and MC here. This got kinda long...)

“Are you coming or not?" His voice is hushed, as he stares at you from the opposite side of a chain link fence.

You don't know why you followed him out tonight, you don't know why he's this drunk. You shared a beer and a half, now finding yourself running from a frat party.

He always gets, for lack of a better word, brave when he's had a drink. 

"Cameron Clarke, get the fuck back here!" 

The voice shakes you out of your thoughts as you hear the footsteps getting closer.

You panic slightly, finally climbing over the fence. When on the other side, your eyes meet that of Laron, social chair of Sigma Chi.

You feel your hand being gripped and pulled before your brain can catch up, your lungs burning as Cam leads you across the street making twists and turns around buildings, a few stray college kids having one last hurrah before the upcoming graduation.

You finally come to a halt, bending over to catch your breath. Your heart pounding hard in your chest.

Cam's laughter is just a reminder of the night, one of the last few before you start this next chapter of your lives. 

 Cam already secured an apartment for himself. Nestled in the city, not too far from your aunt's house. "Just in case she needs me." 

You can't help but smile at the sentiment, knowing that's not the only reason Cam will be living in that area.

He finally stops laughing, sitting down on the cold concrete between the two buildings you find yourselves standing near. 

"That was amazing. I've never seen you climb so fast. Not even when Auntie's dog tried to get your candy bar."

You shove him as you sit beside him, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, letting your heart calm down.

"What the hell did you do to get them so mad?" You turn to look at Cam, finding he is already looking at you.

His eyes widen, his cheeks red, must be from the running. At least that's what you tell yourself. He clears his throat, but scoots closer to you. Shoulder to shoulder, and hip to hip. His scent is one that's familiar and comforting.

You swallow hard, must be thirsty from the run. At least that's what you tell yourself. 

Cam takes his phone and holds it close so you can see. 

"What? It's just a picture of us from finals week."

"Look closer." He instructs, leaning closer into you if that is even possible. 

You scan the photo. Cam and you stand outside the library looking as if you hadn't slept for a week. Which is quite possible considering how hard you studied for your last exams. Cam's arm wrapped around your shoulder his head leaning against yours smiling ear to ear. Yet you notice he wasn't looking at the camera, instead looking at you.

"Geez, right there look." Cam's voice interrupts your thoughts as you follow his finger to the corner of the photo.

You squint slightly but sure enough, it's Laron and...who is he kissing...wait...holy.

"No way!?" You say rearing back to turn to Cam, whose eyes were staring somewhere close to your lips. You don't miss the dimple on his cheek, the way his heterochromatic eyes look along the lines of your face.

"Yeah, Professor Flynn. I pulled my phone out and he saw it earlier, and said he was going to delete the photo. So I punched him and ran."

Your eyes widen looking to the phone and back to Cam. He was always protective of the photos he took. Didn't matter what the quality was or if it was good enough. To him, they were important, memories. 

"You punched him?"

Cam smiled his eyes crinkled and nodded before leaning it on your shoulder. "I couldn't let him delete a part of us. I don't care who he's making out with. Maybe next time don't get in my photo."

A part of..us? 

When you don't say anything Cam looks up at you, your face inches away from each other. His hand reaches to your cheek, wiping under your eye gently. 

Subconsciously your eyes close, and you lean your face against his hand, against his warmth. His finger stalls, just long enough for you to notice. 

To notice you leaning in, his breath warm against your face. Long enough for you to pull away if you want. Yet, you don't.

It's the alcohol. Your lips part slightly. He hesitates. looking over your face. Hesitates, just long enough.

But you barely drank. Your breath catches in your throat.

It's the alcohol. His lips press against yours, warm, and soft. 

Lips that have told you the secrets of his life, the secrets he buries deep in his heart. Lips that have supported you every time, every step.

You grab his wrist, clinging to him. Returning the kiss tenfold. He moans a sweet sound. An alluring sound. 

You don't stop as his tongue flicks against your own. Asking for permission. Asking for acceptance. And you grant it easily, as your back presses against the building. His hand slid to your hip, holding you tight.

He pulls away, and you force yourself to hold back a whine. Opening your eyes you look at him. His are heavy with want, with desire. 

"Say you want me." It's quiet, meek in a way. You could hear his voice quiver when he said it.

You look at him, truly look at the man before you. "I.."

"Clarke!" 

You both turn frozen, seeing Laron turning the corner and staring at you. Fuck, this is not going to be good.

It was the alcohol.

[goodxnews]

drop the rps you’re eyeing i’m bad at finding good ones 👁️

ok ok ok. i got you. i lowkey get really into LOOKING at rps so there's a bunch here i haven't apped for but have been staring at, lmao. sorry this got sooo long. i know there's others, so please send me some more if you see this!! also the genres are all over the place lmao i was hardcore eyeing @exchangehq but i didn't get my app done in time. def hoping they drop new skeletons soon!! ok so the discord rp i'm eyeing issss @archiveofsouls which looks I N C R E D I B L E & i one hundred percent am going to work on an app for them tbh. i wish them all the success in the world!! @wooshfm is sooo cute! i need to look through their skeletons & see if there's one that sparks muse but i hope they take off!!!! so, so, so cute. @ruinationsrp looks like so much fun, i'm staring at the characters right now. @eightiesbby looks like so much fun, @crimsonfm, @fasthq looks so sexyyy, @solanite, @kultrecords (i don't really do discord rps, she said, while reccing another one), @heirshq, @devilsjunctionhq, @divinelytm, @mistycarolinahq (one day i'll catch an open skeleton), @bairdhq (another discord rp whomst am i), @calamityhq (just saw this one but looks interesting from my brief glance!) and then.... @dominicusrpg is literally INCREDIBLE. it's got me wanting to read a whole book series, that's how much i'm into this. i am also very intimidated but am BIGGGG eyes emoji.

[megs-98]

i had to shower without music so naturally i spent the entire time thinking about what the datv companion/rook bathrooms would look like

i'm gonna add my thoughts under the cut but everything will be sfw, there's just going to be a lot of rambling cause i will be talking about every companion and my rook. also i haven't finished the game yet so some thoughts are definitely incomplete

now i don't know if the fade would generate bathrooms for each character or if this place that can seemingly produce anything would just plop down a communal bathhouse. but i like to think the caretaker would make sure each person has a personalized ensuite. i also think that these bath areas would change as you get farther along in that companion's quest, similar to how harding's room gets more and more plants in it as you do her quest.

like

harding, for example, would her shower start off as a waterfall cascading off of rocks. symbolizing her love and appreciation of her ancestors and then by the time you finish her quest would there be a massive leaf coming from the rock side causing the water to cascade down? similar to the giant flower coming from her ceiling, tying in her love of plants

or with davrin. at the start, would he just have a pond? of questionable water? cause those wardens are roughin it for sure. but then as he and assan find their turlum, the water clears and rock walls form so assan can jump into the water from different heights? giving both davirn and emmrich a heart attack cause we know manfred would want to give it a try

would neve have a small area with basically just a bowl of water, a bar of soap, and a cloth? essentially only giving herself a bird bath cause she has leads to follow up on.. but as she continues through her quest and knows she has people to count on and is not alone in the world so she, for lack of a better word, grants herself time to enjoy a relaxing moment bathing, so an actual bathtub with nice soaps and soft towels appear. it doesn't need to be elaborate, she still enjoys things that are practical and get the job done

bellara's could go one of two ways in my head; either her shower would be more akin to rain falling through the tree canopy. or would it start as a small waterfall feeding into a stream. not sure how it would improve on itself from there though. maybe the foresty area comes more and more to life maybe having a calmed relic or two

taash, i think taash's would start as something more qunari centered, but as they learn more about themselves !and especially if rook encourages them to embrace their riviani culture! it would turn into a desert oasis and is just their small patch of paradise to enjoy however they choose to

emmrich i think his would be a practical bathroom but with a flair. i honestly haven't finished his questline yet but i know he's secure with himself and knows what he likes. so of course it would have all his creature comforts, maybe even have a box or something that would warm up his robe for him

lucanis would have a rather grandiose bathroom. he is used to the finer things in life and has an appreciation for style. he would have all the latest items popular with antivans, but he would prefer a small flow of water coming from the ceiling. could you imagine how broody he'd be in the shower, and it would probably cold too so he doesn't fall asleep. but then as he and spite are able to work together, he feels more comfortable to sit in a warm bath, appreciating how relaxing it can be, especially with a good glass of wine, hopefully even spite enjoying it to whatever extend he's able too

now for rook. my main rook is crow!rook, named yaryna (goes by yary) hers would definitely be practical but still have her favorite items. she's knowledgeable about plants, she is a poisoner after all, so she'd have eucalyptus hanging from the walls, some aloe vera, maybe an orchid or two. just a decent amount of high humidity plants, a *mirrorless* vanity table where she keeps her skin/hair care and makeup. and as she progresses through the story, finding more confidence in herself, a mirror would appear. her area wouldn't necessarily turn better, but she'd appreciate what she has, what she has always had, seeing the importance in "average" things, just as she does with herself.

[make-it-one-piece]

I'd love to see a one piece fic where we just see exagerated versions of their dynamic in a modern way, and let me explain this with Zoro.

First we'd see how he was left by his parents at the dojo, orphan Zoro getting foster care by Kuina's father, but i don't see him actually seeing that man as a father figure.

Now lets also say Kuina didn't die at a young age and rather stayed with him until she had just started middle school. At this point, if Zoro now, can call her a best friend, if they spent this long together, I think he would see her as a sibling and they would call each other sis and baby bro (to annoy him).

Again, Kuina doesn't die, but lets say she moves out of the country to other relatives, leaving Zoro alone when he was about to start middle school. So he one day has the 'got lost and never came back' incident during his first year. But everyone at the dojo thought he ran away bc Kuina left. So they didn't bother to look for him.

Lost and alone he manages to run into Mihawk, in this world, world champion. He knows Mihawk so he, even if he was ashamed, decided to ask him for directions to the nearest dojo.

Mihawk, upon seeing wet cat Zoro, decides to take care of him, as he asked where his parents were and Zoro told him he was an orphan.

Mihawk takes him under his wing and goes trough with the adoption process. At first Zoro doesn't really care as long as he has a place to train and stay but soon starts to see them as his actual family. By this time Perona was already adopted by Mihawk and is also and older sister for him.

Drac enrolls Zoro in school and gives him the training. They make him go to all the fancy schools Perona also goes/went to, cuz they don't trust Zoro's judgment to choose one.

And this also includes his university.

He decides to follow the same as Mihawk and in this uni he meets all his friends from different majors and also gets into the masculine judo club.

He doesn't know, but it's the fanciest uni in the country and Kuina is also there.

She didn't know about him, until she say him when he went to look for Perona (which she shares a few classes with) and instantly recognised his green hair.

She couldn't lie about being kindda hurt when she heard him call Perona older sis, but went on with life without saying anything.

Zoro took way longer to notice, bc it was Tashigi who pointed her out to him, when she was talking about this really tall girl she admires named Kuina and he was flabergasted.

Their encounter was emotional and awkward, but they decided to have a sparing session to test each other.

They used the unis campus for this, at night, and Kuina told him that she thought she was ready to challenge Mihawk and Zoro told her she still was no match for his old man, and Kuina went YOUR???

[hvnweeps]

think about katsuki and izuku, how they view each other as symbols of victory, how they chase after the other relentlessly, how they mimic each other when they truly, truly want something.

but don’t think about how much katsuki hated that he could never be as kind as izuku. how he could never smile as softly, or reach out a hand as easily, or even give reassurance the way izuku did. he’d never measure up to how amazing izuku was, even when katsuki hurt him over and over. no, don’t think about how katsuki hated himself for so many years, all while loving izuku.

don’t think about all those nights izuku would stay awake, wondering if katsuki would ever be nice to him. if maybe izuku were kinder, the world would be, too. if maybe he had a quirk, he’d be loved, things would be different. maybe he could finally stand side by side with katsuki—maybe he’d receive the love he gave, without coming home with another burned notebook.

no, don’t think about how katsuki spent all of those years going broke, all those years eating cheap food and living in an apartment paid off in his eyes because he was able to put that spark back in izuku’s eyes.

don’t think about how izuku would stare at the TV in the teacher’s lounge, watching as all of his friends got to be something, thinking he may never be on par like he was with them back when he was a child.

no, don’t even dare to think about how izuku’s eyes lit up and how he cried, because katsuki spent 8 long years saving up and putting every cent into a suit for him. don’t think about how izuku no longer felt so utterly helpless just because he was quirkless—because he could be something with or without a quirk. because he could be a hero, and he got to prove that.

[ecofear]

I must know now…what do you consider a true hear me out 🎤 (not hate, I agree with ur takes but I love insane hear me outs)

what i consider a true hear me out? but not necassarily my own.. i'm going to roll with that ok ok so

to me a hear me out cannot have anything one would consider conveniently attractive. this means any humanoid body shape with "good" attractive proportions is instantly out. that roughly female looking monster with a thin waist and wide hips? OUT. that roughly male looking monster with a thin waist broad shoulders and big biceps? OUT!

same with faces. if the face is human enough and it looks like an attractive person. it's out. so on this... characters like pyramid head and lilith dialbo are out. they are monstery, but they are "weak" hear me outs. because ur average joe can find something hot on that design.

SO. a true hear me out has to not look at all like a hot person. easy. can they look like a person in general? in my opinion... not really? once you get humanoidy you can find things to relate to and it becomes more comfortable. you see what i'm saying? like. barry the fucking bee is not a good hear me out. he has a human face and human hair, he moves, talks, acts, very human. that woman is not out there for wanting to fuck the bee. she's actually kind of boring.

^ this is just a boring white man in a bee body

that gets us into the ones that aren't human. now it's a little harder to explain... but lets use something like.. diego from ice age. or his girlfriend. who's name i don't know.

these are animal designs designed to be attractive. we have all seen them. i don't think i have to explain. so these to me as also bad hear me out's. she has eyeliner, ok? he has one of the most typically attractive sauve deep voices given to a character ever. i grew up with friends who roleplayed wolves and dinosaurs and all my girl friends were in love with diego. it was by design.

so. we need to look for... ugly designs. ugly is hear me out? what kind of ugly? non-conveniently attractive? see, this just sounds like shit. this isn't what i consider hear me out. something you find ugly does not necassarily mean it's a good hear me out if someone else finds it attractive. we have to go DEEPER than ugly. we have to go for disgusting. disturbing. uncomfortable.

HOWEVER! it's still not that simple. how does this disgusting creature/monster BEHAVE? does it behave in a way you could see as human? calling back to barry the fucking bee, who is ugly, disgusting, disturbing AND uncomfortable. he's too human. he BEHAVES human! so.

so if we combo these things up...

the predator without it's mask is pretty gross.

your average joe is not gonna find something sexy in this. MASK ON? yeah, yeah they will. mask off? no. BUT. THE PREDATOR IS NOT A GOOD HEAR ME OUT. why? because of how it behaves. it's a macho man. it's a hunter. it's got a big buff man body (pyramid head core!) and it's a manly macho hunter. i know a lot of grown ass normal ass cishetero women who are down bad for the predator and wanted the human and the predator to make love in aliens vs predator BECAUSE... predators are just sexy men. with a gross face under a cool mask.

now let us talk about fish man from shape of water.

it behaves like an animal. we can't deny that. it's not human-y. it's animal-y. it's a creature. i saw people (normies) uncomfortable with this romance because it wasn't human Enough. some people got weird vibes from it. HOWEVER. it just has a human body, yknow? normal enough face. normal enough body. when she holds it, it's a proper hug, a proper cuddle. they touch hands and faces and it's very... normal. it's not abnormal. to me, fish man is not a good hear me out. too human-y.. in body/design. behaviour is hear me out, but otherwise no. if maybe it was more.. gross? maybe extra slimey? fish mouth? yknow? add some "uncomfy".. but no. no. you were supposed to want them to get together, it had to be attractive.

i think we have the criteria i hold now, right?

a good hear me out has to make the average joe uncomfortable with your choice. they'd judge you for it. see you differently for it. the kind of hear me out you would not admit somewhere your full name and face is. unless you're just. madly confident.

so one could go "well xenomorph is all that? very creature blahblah-" NO. WE ALL KNOW H.R GIGER WAS HORNY. his art was erotic! the xenomorph was designed TO BE EROTIC! it does not count. it's too sexy. too sleak, too Perfect. i remember when people really wanted to push the xenomorph in alien sexually assaulted a female character using alien isolation as proof because they found the creature so sexually charged but of course it would... be sexual! look back to diego and his gf. the xenomorph is a more ... grown up version of this. you know?

we can also take away some "human" points if the design is truly uncomfortable.

so... some examples? yeah we need examples.

^ this is a good hear me out. that's a man's head. but do you wanna fuck that? if you do... you got a hear me out on your hands. no one is hearing you out, btw. they're leaving the room even.

how about the absolutely horrible worms with teeth leech things from peter jacksons king kong? you wanna get the succ from that? you got a hear me out, my friend! we will not listen. we are giving you a funny face.

how about basket case?

what about sarah from the void?

we could go on. but i think this explains what i think a true hear me out is. do i have a true hear me out? nope. i really don't. my most hear me out is probably.. ifrit from ffxiv?

do i think this is a good one? not at all. basically a dragon without wings. got the same kind of vibe of people who like werewolves (which i do too). this isn't a good hear me out. i was open about ifrit being my husband in ffxiv, and a lot of people were like yeah sure. it was rare for me to find people like uuhhh that's weird! they could see my vision, even if they did not understand...

i'm also into the bracken, and i had a few Okay Fray... Sure.... responses, but the bracken is so popular there were flood of porn art of it on twitter when lethal company came out, AND THEN A VISUAL NOVEL TO ROMANCE ONE!!!!!! it's just kind hot to a lot of people. a bad hear me out. i'm too generic....

tldr................

if most can see the vision..... i don't think it's a good hear me out. if only a few people can.... yeah, yeah, i do think it's a good one.

[thrumbolt]

It’s not true that Feyre’s trauma only shows up in the spring court or that it disappears in the night court. Just as she only once when surprised freaks out at the red of Lucien’s hair, she only sometimes is triggered in the NC. The first time she and Rhys fly after she leaves the spring court, she panics when she feels caged by his wings and Rhys has to back off. Mor doesn’t wear red for a bit to not trigger her. Then there’s the whole Prison plot where she can’t handle the Prison the first time because of her trauma and even when she eventually goes in, she’s freaking out.

Her trauma gets better with time even though she is still struggling on acowar and obviously it’s not every second or she wouldn’t have spent so much time with Lucien and been fine with his red hair all times except once when surprised

Thanks for the anon! You bring up some good points, but I still have to complain haha.

My issue is that she is not just triggered at Lucien's red hair. She is also triggered by red paint and red rose petals....and then never again. Red carpet at Rhys' just a few pages after she gets 'saved' from the spring court? Whatever. Cassian's red syphons? Nothing. That's bad writing, in my opinion. Either the dang color red reminds her of blood and triggers her, or it doesn't, but how it is almost immediately forgotten - that's just inconsistent (it would be definitely much more meaningful, if it slowly improved). Honestly I don't really remember her having any hangups in Acowar at all. And neither has Rhys. He gets like what, one nightmare and one sex position hangup? I was really disappointed that it just....went over so quickly. Maybe that's why I latch onto Tamlin? At least his issues aren't gone after a book. They even get worse as he doesn't seek help. It's just more compelling to me.

My biggest beef in this regard is that Feyre gets triggered getting locked in, but the first time she gets taken by Rhysand and HE locks her in a room, she's totally fine, despite being actually low key scared of him at that point still and him not taking her home despite her asking him to. It just makes no sense, even with the added wing scene (which I did not remember, so thanks for that). I get that in the Tamlin version she is hysterical (for lack of better term) so it ends in a panic attack, but still.

There's also the part of how she has all these freak outs in the spring court while she is totally able to just literally re-enact her UTM experience in hewn city. Did that not bother you? Yes Rhys calms her and shit, but I couldn't help but eyeroll at that.

In the end I think it's just very manipulative writing to prime you on Rhys good, Tam bad. Spring Court lame, Night Court awesome. When SJM wants something to happen in the plot, it will happen, no matter if it makes sense. Be it the Tamlin-Rhys switcheroo, the UTM sexy scene, the pregnancy plotline, what have you. It's why every new book retcons something from the previous ones.

Personally, I can float with that and accept the silliness of it all quite well. But in consequence it also means I do not take the trauma plot as serious as some and I really do not care whether or not Tamlin is abusive and so on....

[onlygenxhere]

Love too Big for a Love Song (I'll be writing about you for the rest of my life)

Today is the day! Julie and Luke are getting married in the Molina’s backyard. Luke proposed several months ago on the stage at Madison Square Garden in front of thousands of fans and their family and friends on a live video feed. Those same friends and family will be there to share in the celebration and maybe have a surprise or two of their own.

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

PROMISED STEVE POST

This got long cause this part is very much all stuff I added to the story specifically for them 😭😭😭

So Steve is Paul’s cousin and part of one of the richy rich families. Rn he’s probably Eddie’s (or whoever is Eddie’s) little brother but that may change when I read the books. Steve is very much considered a stain on the family because he’s the product of an affair between the mom and some random poor guy which for that family is a very big deal-. But because they want to keep to appearances there’s no divorce and Steve stays with the family and never actually meets his dad (despite the fact that his bio dad absolutely adores him and fought tooth and nail to be able to at least see his son. Steve doesn’t know that tho). Steve insists he doesn’t care that his whole family hates him but he cares like…a lot.

So Steve, Paul, and whoever ends up being Astrid are all SUPER close. They basically treated Steve like their little brother. Paul always stood up for Steve and got away with it because he was the favorite. Steve won’t admit it but he was hit HARD when Paul left home. Like he cried at the airport and it was easily the first time Paul had seen him cry in years. Paul still tries to talk to him at least once a week and Steve finds out about Darry long before the rest of the family does.

So Steve is pretty much dreading the wedding other than the fact that he gets to see Paul for the first time in years. Steve finds out that Paul’s bringing Darry and think it’s an awful idea because Darry doesn’t even know Paul’s lore and also the family just found out about Darry and are like losing their shit-. And THEN Steve finds out Paul is also bringing Darry’s brothers and thinks that’s a worse idea but what does he know he’s just the kid 😔😔😔.

Steve goes with Paul’s best friend to pick them up from the airport and they’re all excited to see eachother and it’s cute. When they’re hanging out and exploring and eating dinner and stuff he starts talking to Soda (Ponyboy freaks him out). And they hit it off like IMMEDIATELY. Instant besties right here. Darry and Ponyboy are a bit weary but Paul swears up and down that Steve is a good kid. And then Steve goes home that night and the whole family is still like going insane that Paul is dating some random roofer guy.

And Steve hears how upset they are, and he’s been being told his whole life that the only good thing he could do for this family is marry well and then they can get back on track and write off the whole affair thing as a one time blip in the family tree. And so Steve knows this, and he sees how mad they are that Paul is with Darry, and he hears all the shit being talked about Darry’s brothers. And he REALLY feels the need to prove to us family that he doesn’t care about them. And Soda’s nice, and fun to talk to, and Steve laughed more in that one night than he had in weeks. Not to mention Soda is really good looking. And an idea forms in his head, a little two week fling sort of, they flirt with eachother and show up everywhere together, his family would get pissed and other than that no harm done.

They show up together the next day at the party, he’s there to help Paul introduce Darry and his brothers to Paul’s mom. It all goes really well, Soda’s a charmer by nature and he already is starting to feel an attraction to Steve, and Steve is having a genuinely amazing time when he thought this whole thing would suck. Eventually Steve gets sick of hearing the same passive aggressive comments and he can tell the looks the family gives Soda are starting to bother him, so they sneak off to Steve’s room. Soda winds up telling Steve about his parents and Johnny and Dally, and Steve tells Soda about his bio dad which he’s never told anyone outside the family. They end up falling asleep together and Paul definetly takes pictures.

Now, the first problem comes due to the fact that Soda falls in love really fucking easily. Like. He’s head over heels by the next morning. Steve is also kinda in love too ngl but like- he doesn’t realize that. So for the next little while it’s that, Soda keeps falling more in love and Steve is trying to convince himself it’s just a means to an end. But his heart jumps whenever he sees Soda, and he’s trying way too hard to make him smile. And then at some point Steve and Soda sneak off to go exploring and they end up having a kiss. And Steve freaks out and runs away and oopsie it’s time for the bachelor party.He also finds out about Astrids husband cheating at this point too which makes stuff worse.

The Curtis brothers don’t go to the party obviously (the fish thing still happens but I haven’t figured that out yet). And Steve and Paul are sticking together and Steve is seeing how people talk about Darry to Paul’s face. And now he’s starting to think that if he really loves Soda he shouldn’t put him in this situation where he’ll spend his whole life never being good enough and always being ‘lesser than’. Because he knows how that feels and it’s AWFUL. When they finally escape the party, Steve tells Paul about it. Paul tells Steve he knows it’s selfish to put someone like Darry or Soda into the family. That’s why Paul is walking out as soon as he marries Darry, which is gonna be soon cause he plans to propose.

Paul basically tells Steve that both of them are more than deserving of everything good about eachother, and whatever Steve does he’ll back him up. But he also says that Steve needs to think about if he’s really serious about this, and if Soda would be worth losing everything. And if Steve decides that he isn’t, then Steve needs to stop leading Soda on and cut things off before he fucks everything up worse.

So Steve thinks on it and basically goes ‘no fuck it I deserve to be happy and I hate this family anyway’. But he can’t like go all in yet cause he’s 17- but he talks feelings with Soda and they start doing this ‘kind of couple kind of not’ thing. And things are going amazing up until the wedding, where they find out that Darry was also the product of an affair and that Darry’s dad is very much alive. The grandmother and Paul’s mom corner him about it while Steve and Soda are odd dancing somewhere else, but Soda sees Darry run away from the party. He runs after Darry and Steve follows him without hesitation, but then he’s blocked by Paul’s mom. And she tells him that Soda isn’t something anybody in this family should associate with, especially not him. And the entire family is suddenly staring at Steve, and they look disappointed and disgusted, but also like they’ve never expected any better from him. And Steve suddenly feels a lot of pressure he was not remotely prepared for. And he folds and lets Soda run away on his own.

He immediately regrets it, and tries to find him again but by now it’s too late. Soda ignores all his texts but doesn’t block his number and Steve only finds out from Paul about them all going back home and Darry turning down the proposal. Steve straight up feels like the stupidest person in the world. And then Paul’s mother in character development gives Paul her engagement ring, and she probably has a long talk with Steve about the way she’s treated him and allowed the family to treat him. Steve doesn’t really forgive her or even let it help that much, but she does tell him to go after Soda. So Steve follows Paul to the airport, and waits at the gate while Paul goes to propose on the plane. When Soda gets off, Steve is there and the first words out of his mouth are all about how sorry he is. Soda kisses him and they hug and it’s all a very unrealistically happily ever after because this is still a rom com 😭😭😭

I think at some point Steve also meets his bio dad and his half siblings and downright ditches the family to stay with them because they like- actually love him and think he’s worth something- that’s a whole other story tho

[furymint]

FFXIV Write 2024 | header | wc: 1,376 | cw: elliot's bad parenting | i kidnapped @houseshadowstar for this

If nothing else, Elena did look cute. Even as she pouted and complained that she was hungry, and even when Elliot had to remove her rings after they'd caught in her lace collar for the second time, she didn't entirely look like a four year old child set on establishing Elliot’s unmitigated doom. That was a good start.

As he herded her towards the door of his chambers, he realized that navigating through the cathedral and to the carriage was going to be impossible. He refused to hold her hand. Their heights were simply incompatible: he would have to lean to the side as he walked just to match her, and part of him would rather never go out again than be seen like that. Carrying her was more impossible. In the end, Elliot settled on the assistance of an iris. With the end of the stem in his hand and the flower in hers, he bridged the gap.

They made it to the carriage without further issue. The ostiary even complimented Elena's hairpiece—not that she noticed—while they trundled down the snow-lined path. Her deadweight didn't help him lift her into the cab, and her seat right at the window didn't help him join her, but Elliot comforted himself in thinking that the Shadowstar residence was not far.

"Their names are Ceridwen and Sirus," Elliot coached her.

Elena pushed her cheek into the window and said, "Mm."

The iris didn't work once they reached the stairs ascending to the front doors. Elliot took her hand to balance and encourage her through each tall step, inwardly noting the committed scrunch of her face as something to tell Nolanel.

Since there was no guard to admit them, Elliot let Elena press the doorbell.

Ceridwen answered just as Elena began scraping her new shoes against the stoop.

"Elliot! I'm so glad we could have you. Sirus is inside; I have him tending my chocolate to watch for bubbles. I hope the two of you have the time to wait for it to set?" Ceridwen took both of Elliot’s hands fondly and squeezed them.

"I hope so," he returned, looking pleadingly at Elena.

Ceridwen shifted her attention to the girl too. "Miss Elena, have you had pan au chocolate afore?"

She thought about it. "Can I have one?"

"They'll be finished soon," Ceridwen promised.

Elliot inched forward. "I apologize for being so direct, but do you have any refreshments immediately available?"

"I'm hungry," interjected Elena.

"Oh, good!" said Ceridwen.

Elena turned her head toward the left wall. "It doesn't feel good."

"We have plenty to fix that—we just have to join my brother." Ceridwen turned slowly to lead the ungainly pair into the estate.

Her massive tulle skirt rippled as she walked, flowing around the legs of side tables and undulating through open doorways. 

Elena pursued the rustling sound as they walked. In under ten seconds, her walk became a run, and the run into a complete forward tumble.

"No no no—Don't—Ugh!" Elliot wailed, reaching for her.

She didn't care. The tiny girl hugged the plush fabric, no worse for wear, and giggled as she stood with iron fists of fluff.

Ceridwen laughed with her, then knelt to to inquire if she were truly fine.

"It's not fine at all!" Elliot started, his voice rising in its pique. "She can be so inconsiderate of people. Clothes are as much of a person as all of their property. She's mistaken a lady's dress skirts for the curtains once, and tried to hide among them—I still have not lived it down."

Three things happened. Ceridwen ignored Elliot, offered her hand to Elena, and waited for the girl to bore herself when help was refused.

Elliot watched those three things from another world. It surprised him how much he hated them. If he were a different man, he would have patience, acceptance, and humor. He knew he had those things—for others. For the girl who was suddenly in his life until he died, and who he did not want there, he had none.

But she was just a child in a new place-—and it was no fault of hers that she didn't trust him. He didn't want to be near her—-she was mercurial and weird and loud—and he had work to do that couldn't include a blind urchin.

They were stuck with each other whether they liked it or not when Nolanel left. He couldn't just tell her that she'd been abandoned so Nolanel could return to war. He couldn't be her father, either, although he had no good reason for that.

He and Elena were acquaintances living together, even if she had no appreciation for poetry and he did not share her fondness for ripping paper into tiny strips. Sometimes he was convinced that she calculated her day according to what would annoy him most.

But if he wanted Elena to behave politely, then he must be polite first. His voice lowered. "Thank you for being so kind. I don't know what I'm doing."

Ceridwen frowned pityingly, but in a way that showed she disapproved. "Do you not recall a whit of Vhene's upbringing when she was so young? Children are not angels, no matter how we paint cherubs."

"Of course I do," he insisted, "but Vhene had Norhi and all the force of the Bellworks behind her upbringing. 'Twas a bit strange, but she still had an entire party of adults to tell her not to climb up the kitchen cabinets."

"I'm sure they were only successful in deterring her half the time."

"That's true," Elliot grumbled.

Ceridwen rose to her feet and allowed the child to hold onto her skirt at they continued. "But Elena has you, your father, and all the rest—she shan't beat the table in a drum march because her food hasn't arrived timely enough. You won't let her."

Elliot impatiently nodded. "Yes, but heaven knows what else she keeps for dinner manners when she's excited. She probably had wolves for parents afore she had Nolanel. He's hardly any better."

Ceridwen looked blandly over at him and centered the charm on her necklace. "I doubt you. Ser Feran is as polite as a knight comes. It's true he intuits nothing in the language of gossip, but at one request he is the most accommodating creature I've ever met in a ballroom."

"That's because he's frightened out of his wits and desperate for guidance. Once he's comfortable and knows you enough, he forgets what it is to compromise."

Sirus whistled a falling note from the kitchen. "Damn," he cringed, appearing in the doorway. "Dwen was correct when she said this intervention would be for you more than the kid."

Elena followed Ceridwen past him into the kitchen. It was a massive, organized, efficient affair of countertops and containers. Elliot remained outside while Ceridwen swept around the island and poured a ramekin full of assorted berries. She handed it to Elena.

Elliot leaned against the opposite side of the doorframe and wagged a hand at Sirus. He wanted to talk of anything—even for a moment—that wasn't children. "Sirus. Have you patronized The Brume Closet recently? I heard there is a mistress proprietor now. When did ownership change hands?"

Sirus pressed deeper into his share of doorframe casually. "Oh, it's not so much of a change. I mean, some change, but just from an old name to a new one."

"Oh, very good," he replied, though he sounded absent. 

For the time being, Elena devoured blueberries in the same silence the room took on. Steam and scents wafted from one of the ovens while chocolate cooled at the other side of the room, away from its heat.

Ceridwen resumed her harassment. "Vhene is also nine, now, in case you've forgotten."

Elliot recoiled and slumped. "Why does the new youth so often do naught but remind me of my age!"

Sirus tilted his head. "How much older are we than him again?"

"Stop making fun of me!"

"I mean, you've asked for it," Sirus shrugged. "Coming here to wallow about how you've made enemies with your own kid."

"But she's not my child," Elliot sulked.

Ceridwen looked at her baking chronometer. "All right," she sighed. "How much time do we have?"

[little-pup-pip]

hihi! srry if youve answers this but mobile isnt making it easy to search. what's your general process for making moodboards? it's weird bc I have nooo problem making stim boards! but mbs are rly difficult for my brain evn though I wanna. how do you do it?

Hello hello! I haven't answered this before, but it's a great question!!

I usually start with either an original idea or a request that I feel like doing (sorry people who've been waiting a long time), and at that point I usually have some idea in my head of the color scheme or vibes that I want it to have and set out to Pinterest!

I gave my list of go-to items to search in a previous ask, which can be found here!

Once I've found at least 9 pictures (sometimes more than 9 for extra options) I crop them all to a 1:1 ratio so they appear as a grid of squares instead of rectangles, and sometimes make minor alterations to the color temperature (warm or cool tones) so the pictures all look coherent!

After that I play around with the composition of the picture, which can take a while depending on how many colors I'm working with. Here are 2 examples of what I mean!

This one has 2 main focus colors (as most of my moodboards do), green and brown, so the composition of it alternates between the two colors the whole time! I would also do this if it had 3 main colors. This just makes it look more even overall; to me, at least.

This one, on the other hand, is just 1 focus color, which is grey! So I didn't worry as much about the composition of it. I could move anything here to any other place, and it would be approximately the same! I treat moodboards with more than 3 focus colors the same way as moodboards with just 1, so those are less deliberately structured.

After all of that, I choose which dni banner I think fits best with what I made, write my tags out, and I'm done!! This process usually takes 20 minutes to an hour and a half, depending on how long it takes me to find the right pictures!

I hope this walkthrough of my process was helpful, and obviously there's no singular correct way to make moodboards!! Good luck Anon!