#this stuff seems to do better when i start rambling in the tags

[winkleclit]

heres something stupid and lame

[foxcassius]

wait also my tags on that post were about people i knew in freshman and sophomore year of college specifically. i mean some of them i knew after that and most of them i knew from high school but damn some people really made everything about themselves when i was being emotionally manipulated in my freshman year

[waywardsalt]

:3

[dawntheduckrb]

Low resolution borb chilling on the curb

[scoops-aboy86]

wc: 4849 | Rating: T | CW: greening out, recreational drug use | Additional Tags: new years fic, pining, Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening/crisis, love confessions, getting together

note: the apple cider mentioned is not hard cider, just the stuff that’s like apple juice but better 

(also on ao3)

Drink A Cup of Kindness Yet

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Steve Harrington is greening out. 

Which, really, isn’t his fault. He’s smoked before, had pot brownies that had tasted even worse than these ones, it’s just been a while. Who knew that your tolerance could completely reset itself after only… six months. 

And, okay, maybe that happens to coincide exactly with the length of time Eddie’s been away on Corroded Coffin’s first tour. Whatever Robin says, it’s not because he’s been pining. Who’s ever heard of missing something you never even had?

(Steve’s heard. Steve’s done it. Sometimes he still misses being with Nancy even though he knows, knows he never really had her heart, not fully. Or his parents’ warmth and affection, projected onto his childhood memories mostly from heartwarming movies because they’re just not that kind of people in real life. But… shut up.)

So now he’s here, balled up on the Buckley family’s sofa like one wrong move will send him toppling to the floor and too warm, so overheated that his body doesn’t feel like it’s fitted on its bones right. With Eddie holding his hand—stupid, after all the time they’ve spent smoking together before Eddie’s music career started taking off. The guy was always up for a toke, and Steve had taken advantage of that to spend more and more time with him until real life cut Steve off cold turkey. 

From the weed, obviously. That… That’s the real problem here. 

“Sorry,” Steve forces out. His head lolls back against the couch; talking takes a lot of effort and concentration. “That I’m… blrrrmph.” 

That last bit is a stand in for whatever word he means that he totally can’t think of right now. It’s sarcastic and frustrated and a little bit whiny, and he’s so disappointed in himself for it. 

Eddie squeezes his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Stevie. It’s my fault anyway, I shouldn’t have made the brownies so strong. Just… New Year’s, you know? I went a little overboard.”

At a loss, Steve squeezes back. On one hand, he'd be much more comfortable if Eddie were annoyed with him, because Steve is used to that response from people. On the other, he’d had a half-baked plan to maybe get up the nerve to kiss Eddie at midnight because, like, that’s what people do when the clock strikes midnight to ring in the new year. It’s just the three of them, and it’s not like he can kiss Robin, she’s basically his sister. 

But now he’s over baked. He’s wrong footed without being on his feet, pulse racing and dizzy without moving, stomach uneasy because of how out of whack his internal thermostat seems to be right now, and Eddie…

Eddie is smoothing a cool wet washcloth over his forehead, courtesy of Robin—who only had one bite of brownie to start with as a precaution, and ended up a perfectly manageable amount of high. On one hand, Steve hates that about her not while he himself is so incapacitated. On the other, he loves her for being able to bring him stuff. 

Wait. How many hands is that by now? What kind of many-handed creature is he building with his internal ramblings?

Eddie holds a mug to his mouth. The ceramic is cool against his bottom lip, so he allows it; stares straight into Eddie’s big, worried brown eyes while being fed sips of apple cider, sweet and cool over his tongue, down his throat. 

“Gotta stay hydrated,” Eddie is saying, a soothing murmur. “It’ll help bring you down, sweetheart. Like a parachute.”

Steve wants to shake his head, but the message to move keeps getting lost somewhere between his brain and his neck. Which is stupid, they’re right next to each other! He waits until the mug goes away, then mumbles, “Nnn. Crash.” Puffing out his cheeks, he imitates what he thinks sounds like an explosion. 

“Nuh-uh,” Eddie retorts. A crinkle appears between his eyebrows and Steve wants to smooth it out, but he can’t. He can’t. “I’d never let you crash.”

And then. Oh no. It occurs to Steve that that’s not strictly true, and it’s not even Eddie’s fault because he didn’t know. About the… the… Well, Steve doesn’t even really know, he’s spent so long carefully tiptoeing around the shape of it—can’t miss what you never had—but. Eddie left. His departure carved out a hole, a crater that marked the way they’d emergency-landed into each other's lives one terrible Spring Break and never parted until… until. 

Steve’s eyes are swimming, leaking, possibly melting out of his skull and none of it is Eddie’s fault. It’s not Eddie’s fault that he fell into the crater in his own chest and can’t climb out, can’t even move. 

Eddie’s eyes, in contrast, go wide. “Oh, Stevie, you’re okay—”

“I d-d-d,” Steve tries, stuttering and locked up and too hot and too queasy and too much. 

Another weight settles on his other side: Robin, sitting on the arm of the couch and wriggling her cold feet under him. It is, she told him once, the closest she will ever get to willingly touching his ass, and that memory wrings an incongruous, wet little laugh out of Steve even now. 

“Ride it out, dingus,” she tells him, combing fingers through his sweaty hair and, he can tell, trying to fix it for him. Not that she’s ever very good at doing so, but he appreciates the attempt. “I brought you some leftovers if you’re hungry.”

Robin’s mom loves turkey, so it’s always on the Buckley family menu for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. It’s what they all had before the older adults went off to some party they’d been invited to and the ‘kids’ stayed behind. Now Robin’s brought him a small plate with the perfect ratio of turkey, stuffing, and jellied cranberry sauce, the kind that comes in the shape of a can. Not really finger food, but that’s how she feeds it to him whenever he flops his head from facing Eddie to facing her. 

His eyes well up again because he’s got the best people in the world here with him, and because he’s being a total loser right now but it doesn’t matter because he’s got the best people in the world here with him, and… 

Woah. Déjà vu. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles again with a sniffle. “Shitty New Year’s.”

Eddie’s still holding his hand, squeezing it again reassuringly. “Trust me, big boy, this is nothing. I tried something on the road that, like, I don’t even know what that was. And I’m supposed to know my shit right? Ended up trashing a hotel room, which was… a classic rockstar move, actually, but it felt terrible. Especially after. You can’t help a bad trip while it’s happening, just gotta take steps once it’s over to make sure it never happens again.” He pauses. “And that’s why me and all the guys have made a blood pact not to accept anything from groupies, roadies, or music execs anymore.”

Robin, from where Steve isn’t looking, hums. “Naming that many sources doesn’t sound like it was just a one time mistake.”

Eddie shrugs, a motion that flows all the way up Steve’s arm from their clasped hands. “Well, there are four of us, so.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about what Eddie is or isn’t doing, what he is or isn’t accepting, from groupies. Distantly, he can feel his face doing something—pouting, maybe—as he whines and tips closer into Eddie’s space. Ends up with his face smooshed against the other man’s collarbone and throat, touching both threadbare band t-shirt and bare, stubbled skin. Now that he’s out of Robin’s reach, Eddie takes over stroking his hair after only a brief hesitation. 

And, like. Not to downplay how much Steve appreciates Robin, but this is better. He’s not sure why, it just is. If Eddie keeps going, he could probably stay here forever, just like this. 

Which is how he dozes off, all sense of time melting away until he merely exists, a seamless transition from being cradled by Eddie in real life to surrounded by him in a dream. 

~

Steve wakes with a snort to find himself almost right where he’d started, except instead of tucked into the corner of the couch he’s tucked into Eddie’s lap, probably squashing the other man’s legs numb. Instead of holding his hand, Eddie’s other arm is wrapped firmly around his back, holding him securely in place; the hand that had been in Steve’s is now holding several playing cards. Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve plays on low in the background, light shifting through the otherwise dim room. 

“Go fish,” Eddie crows softly, then turns to Steve as Robin huffs and takes a card from the draw pile. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. You feeling better?”

Feeling humiliated is more like it. Can’t even handle his—But at the same time, something in Steve has settled. A crater filled in. He doesn’t pick his head up, but he does bring a hand to his mouth to wipe away an embarrassing amount of drool, and tries clumsily to wipe it with the edge of his sleeve from where Eddie’s neck meets his shoulder, too. 

“M’fine,” he mutters, not totally convinced this is true. He feels clearer, sure, but definitely still high. He’s still sleepy, muscles lax, comfortable where he is. Embarrassment isn’t quite enough to make him move yet, drool or not. 

To hell with new year traditions though, because he can’t try for a midnight kiss now; his luck tonight has been way too bad already. And besides, he hasn’t even admitted to Robin he’s having these thoughts first, which is probably a soulmate faux pas. Kissing Eddie without consulting her first seems borderline rude. Or something. 

(More like he’s being a coward, but he’s pretty sure his reasons are, you know. Reasonable.)

He squints at the cards in Eddie’s hand. “Ask for sevens.”

“Okay. Got any sevens, Birdie?” There’s something warm and affectionate in Eddie’s tone. A smile, maybe—something Steve had missed while he was conked out. 

“Two against one, no fair,” Robin grumbles, but hands over a card. 

They play for a little while longer like that, until Robin is eventually placated by winning despite the allegedly unfair player imbalance. When she bounces up to get them all refills of cider in time for the midnight countdown, Eddie gets Steve’s attention by leaning back just enough to make eye contact. 

“Hey Stevie. I’m really sorry I didn’t warn you about the brownies… I should probably take a tolerance break, I barely even felt it and that clashes with my personal values.” The smile Eddie shoots at him is lopsided, dimple popping on one side in a way that makes Steve want to cup his cheek in one hand and pull him close until their mouths touch. Fuck. “Gotta be easier on the wallet and get back to those days of being a cheap date, otherwise I lose some of my already questionable appeal.”

“‘S not questionable,” Steve protests through a yawn. “You’re nice.”

“To you,” Eddie retorts. “To everyone else, I’m mean as a snake.”

His voice is gone quiet again. If Steve didn’t know any better he’d think it was shy—but Eddie Munson doesn’t do shy, there’s no way. Eddie Munson… is a goddamn rockstar trying not to stay stuck in this podunk town, and Steve finds himself smiling stupidly at him with reddened eyes that are still slightly unfocused. 

“You’re a big metal softie,” Steve says, because the record’s gotta be set straight. He taps Eddie’s nose for emphasis and chuckles when Eddie scrunches it and goes cross eyed trying to follow the motion with his eyes. 

There’s a moment where they just sort of look at each other. Steve feels so content, just looking at him. Knowing that Eddie isn’t expecting anything of him beyond being himself, which is… well, it doesn’t come easy a lot of the time, but for now he feels loose and warm. 

“Steve, can I tell you something?” Eddie whispers. 

He wants to hear what Eddie has to say. He always wants to hear everything on Eddie’s mind. So he nods. 

Gently, Eddie brushes Steve’s hair out of his eyes. (When had that gotten there?) “For a while now, I’ve—”

“Here we go!” Robin interrupts, setting their three glasses of fancy apple juice on the coffee table and flopping down behind Steve. “Do you think we have time to play another round? I bet I could kick your ass at War before the ball drops.”

“Robin,” Eddie says without breaking eye contact with Steve, “I think you forgot something in the kitchen.”

There’s a pause, presumably while Robin reads the room, and then Steve feels the couch shift as she stands again. “Oh! You know what, you’re right! I’ll just… go figure out what that was while you two keep talking, carry on.”

Even though that’s his platonic soulmate, there was never a question of turning to look at her. Steve is breathless, floating, and Eddie is all around him, just like in his dream. It’s doing something inscrutable and fantastic to his insides. (I am still really high, he thinks, and then promptly loses the thought.)

When she’s gone again, Eddie simply says, “I missed you, Steve.”

“You did?” Steve whispers. 

“Yeah. And it made me realize something.” 

He’s still busy welling up just from Eddie thinking of him while out in the big wide world at all. “What?” 

Eddie smiles, a complicated emotion sculpting his expressive face that Steve wants to map with his fingertips until he knows it like the back of his own hand. “That life’s too short not to tell someone you love them.”

What?  

“And it’s funny,” Eddie continues, “because you’d think I would’ve figured that out after nearly dying, but nope. That little epiphany waited until I left Hawkins and realized how… just how perfectly you’d folded yourself into my life. I missed seeing you, talking to you every day. And I didn’t say anything about it any of the times I called because I didn’t want to fuck up at least being friends—”

Steve gets that. It’s been the loudest of his not-quite-thoughts for months now.

“—But fuck it, alright? I love you. So I had to come back and, well… I chickened out on saying it earlier tonight, and then you got way too high and this probably isn’t the best time to dump this on you, but…” He smiles nervously. “The way you’ve been looking at me since you woke up, it’s like there’s stars in your eyes, Stevie. I don’t know if it’s for me or if it’s the weed or what, but it keeps making my heart do cartwheels. You don’t have to… I’m not asking for anything, and if you don’t feel the same way—like, romantically, I don’t mean platonic right now, just to be very, very clear—that’s okay, but I just needed you to know. That I love you.”

I love you. Just like that, unprompted. Twice. Kinda three times, even, if you count life’s too short not to tell someone you love them. 

In all of Steve’s relationships, he’s been the first to say it, always. He hasn’t said it in a long time, so it’s been a while since he’s heard it from anyone other than Robin—until this shooting star left where it had risen to in the sky to spend an honestly tame night with two best friends, one of whom can’t handle his special brownies for shit, saying that Steve fit in his life as though he’d had a crater carved in him too. Gazing at him now with a heartbreakingly open look, like he wouldn’t even hold it against him if Steve shrugged off Eddie’s arm and climbed out of his lap for this. 

And Steve, with all his walls around his heart to keep it from breaking, walls in his head around the start of thoughts about Eddie best left untouched for danger of getting in over his head… He hasn’t given himself the time or space to come to terms with any of it, but he can feel all that time spent not thinking about it welling up behind his eyes, the byproduct of pressing it all down oozing back up, and fuck. The last thing he wants is to fuck this up and lose Eddie, but that doesn’t mean he wants to cry about it. 

It happens anyway, too stoned to be any good at holding it in. 

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, that same crinkle between his eyebrows again as he cradles Steve closer. Closer, not away, so that’s something. That’s… Steve doesn’t know if it’s what he wants right now, body responding so equally with urges to flee and relax that he ends up feeling too leaden to move. Again. “Shit, sorry, I—Do you want me to get Robin?”

Steve shakes his head violently, the inside of it as blank as an Etch-A-Sketch, and what’s wrong with him? He can’t—he would kill to talk to Robin, but he hasn’t, not about this, not for months. What the fuck is wrong with him?

She could’ve helped him sort this out, and then he might know what to say about Eddie loving him. Instead, he's sitting here in Eddie’s lap feeling like he could just as easily run a marathon or simply fall over dead. 

“I didn’t, I don’t know,” Steve says, panicking. His hands fumble, he’s not even sure what they’re trying to do until they’re clutching at Eddie, fingers twisted into the band shirt that’s so soft and faded he can’t even tell what’s on it, had been trying to puzzle it out right up until he’d gotten too high to function. “Eddie, I haven’t…”

“I know,” Eddie replies quickly, even though he doesn’t. “I’m not asking you for anything here. I wouldn’t put you on the spot like that, Steve.”

But you did, Steve thinks hysterically, because he had just by bringing it up, just by… 

Eddie is pulling Steve to rest his forehead on his shoulder, something they’ve done for each other in panic attacks and after nightmares ever since surviving the end of the world together. They’ve both done it for Robin, and she’s done it for them. This is barely different, the same gesture even if what Steve is freaking out about this time is wholly new-but-not-new, and being high through it makes things easier and harder. 

His heart is thumping hard and fast in his chest like it might burst. Maybe he wants it to. 

Maybe Eddie needs to see the messy contents of his heart and help sort through the gore and the junk to find what’s real in it, if anything. Steve doesn’t trust himself to know; he’s had trouble trusting himself with love, anyone’s love but Robin’s really, for a long time. 

“You just,” he whines into Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t know, Eds, you—I don’t even fucking know!”

There’s a hand rubbing soothing patterns over his back, a little uncertain. “Okay, I don’t know. I’m not sure what you’re talking about, obviously, but it’s okay not to know.”

No it’s not, because Eddie deserves an answer. Eddie was brave, is brave, and Steve is… whatever this is. A mess. Maybe confused, maybe just trying to be more like Robin and mistaking his friendship with Eddie for attraction. How is he supposed to be sure? 

Steve’s fingers twist harder into the soft t-shirt material as he blurts out, “You left.” He doesn’t like how accusing it sounds, how whiney still, but now that he’s started he can’t stop. “I missed you too, you asshole, I… It’s been killing me, Eds, and I didn’t, I don’t know!”

“It’s okay not to know,” Eddie repeats, sounding dazed and maybe a little desperate, probably because Steve isn’t making any sense. 

“But I need to,” Steve argues frantically. “I can’t, I can’t fuck this up, or I’m just fucking bullshit again and I can’t—”

“No.” It’s the first firm thing Eddie has said in a while, the first thing he’s sounded sure about since I just needed you to know. He pulls back, but only enough to lift Steve’s chin to look at him, big brown eyes locking in like a tractor beam to rival the Death Star’s. “You are not bullshit.”

It’s just as devastating as hearing the opposite, like a forest fire clearing out old deadfall to make way for new things to grow.

And that’s all it takes apparently. Steve yanks Eddie forward by the shirt because he has to know. 

~

In the kitchen, Robin dawdles with getting more snacks to go with more apple cider—because, as Eddie had pointed out once Steve was down for the count, getting crossfaded on champagne would not end well. 

And then Eddie had whisper-asked, while carefully supporting a lapful of her unconscious platonic soulmate, “What do I do, Robin?” and then “He’s so…!” and eventually even “I’m too gay to survive this, Buckley.”

Which is nothing he hadn’t said to her before, so she’d just rolled her eyes and retorted, “So tell him already, dummy.”

Because she knows Steve. He doesn’t listen to his heart nearly as much as he should, too convinced that it’ll get him into trouble, but that’s because he’s a dingus. 

Now, hearing Steve start to freak out in the other room, Robin grips hard at her own hands and wavers. Should she not have encouraged Eddie? Crap. Should she go back out there? Crap, she’d been so sure that Steve felt the same way that she’d forgotten it was technically possible that he might have a bad reaction. Because, like, being cool about two girls liking each other was different from another guy liking him. She doesn’t think he’d freak out about it or anything, but she also hadn’t expected Eddie to take her advice so immediately, so clearly she’s not infallible. 

Crap, she should go back out there. Panicking, Robin grabs the dish of cranberry sauce because Steve loves that wiggly, can-shaped abomination and rushes back to the living room to—

Catch an eyeful of Steve now full-on straddling Eddie, face damp with one hand tangled with his shirt and the other in his curly hair. Steve’s eyes are closed, and so are Eddie’s as they kiss so desperately they’re almost rocking back and forth. 

She’s happy for them, but… ew. 

“Missed you,” Steve gasps between kisses. “Eds—missed you—so much—”

Eddie moans into his mouth, which frankly is more than Robin needed to hear. Thankfully, though, his own hands are at a respectable middle ground between looped around Steve’s waist and reaching for his ass. “Sweetheart—‘

They seem to be working it out. Robin’s going to retreat to the kitchen and give them a minute. 

~

Their first kiss is kind of like a traffic collision, which Steve regrets immediately. (He used to be good at this, dammit.) But Eddie—I’d never let you crash—kisses readily back, slows him with a touch to his jaw and eases the pace into something less frantic, but still eager. Easing him down like the parachute he’d promised until they’re fitted together like there’s no place they’d rather be. 

Steve has never been on someone’s lap for a kiss before. Eddie is warm beneath him, against him, arms securely around him. If he’d had any doubts, they’re melting in the warmth of how safe this feels. Like this is exactly where he’s meant to be. 

And it doesn’t hurt that Eddie is a good kisser. Or that Steve on his knees over him trying to press closer and closer, which… yep, they are definitely both starting to get hard from this. Steve can feel Eddie against him, an electric point of contact that’s unfamiliar, but feels more good than scary. 

Mostly. Because he wants—god, he wants, suddenly, so much more than he had let himself even think about before—but not right now, while he’s still stoned in Robin’s living room. It’s not like Eddie expects that, right? He said he loves him.

“M’not a groupie,” Steve reminds Eddie, whining a little into his mouth with a sudden stab of jealousy and dread. This has to be real or he’s not going to survive it. 

“Never,” Eddie pants. “Stevie, sweetheart—” he steals another kiss “—none of them are you, none of them could ever.”

“So you don’t…?”

“Have a few times,” he admits, pained but earnest. “Not in weeks. Kept thinking about you.” His hold tightens possessively, another thing Steve has never been on the receiving end before but it sends a thrill up his spine. “I kept forgetting their names and saying yours. They’re not who I want.”

Steve flushes, pleased by the thought of Eddie thinking about him while getting off but limited in imagining it because… well, he’s not totally sure how it works with two guys, beyond hand stuff. How to decide who puts what where. How does it… fit? Does Eddie like to be the, uh, the one putting it in? Oh god. God, what if Eddie does want that, but his dick is huge?! Because, like, Steve is on board with the idea of a dick in his hand, he knows what that feels like inside and out, but the rest—

He takes a shaky breath and tries to stop spiraling, but. It’s a lot. “Um, I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here, Eds. Are you sure I’ll live up to… whatever you’ve been thinking about?”

“Baby,” Eddie purrs, and there’s the rockstar shining through, soothing in its confidence when Steve feels so unsure. (Even though Corroded Coffin has achieved only moderate Midwest fame so far, Steve’s always thought he has the charisma for more.) “First of all, it would be my pleasure to show you the ropes, one thing at a time. We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with until you tell me it’s okay. And the good thing about having an overactive imagination is that, whatever you feel good about, anything we do will be straight out of my dreams.”

He winks, and Steve ducks his head with a grin, reassured by the answer even though there’s a lot he needs to wrap his head around still.  

“And second, Big Boy, I can already tell that measuring up will not be a problem.” Punctuated by a rock of his hips that, though subtle, rubs them together just right that Steve has to bite his bottom lip to stifle a moan. 

Eddie makes a little growling sound in his throat and dips in to take that lip for himself, worrying it gently before soothing it with a kiss. A surprisingly chaste one, which Steve finds as soothing as the pleasure a moment before was electrifying. 

“And third,” Eddie continues, “me and the guys have been talking about setting up home base in Indy now that we’ve gotten started. That’s close enough to visit, at least. See where this goes. Go on—” and now his face is so endearingly hopeful it makes Steve’s heart feel too big for his chest “—dates? I don’t know where you are yet, and like I said, it’s okay if you’re not either, but that’s what I want: a relationship, in as many ways as I can get.”

“Yeah,” Steve says immediately. He’d started nodding before Eddie had even finished speaking. “Yeah, I think I want that too.”

Maybe it is okay that he doesn’t have everything quite figured out yet. And Robin had to have known, somehow, what Eddie was going to bring up when he’d shooed her out of the room; she wouldn’t have left so easily if she had any objections. She probably won’t be as mad as he’d feared about being left out of the loop. 

As if summoned by the thought, they both hear Robin call loudly from the kitchen, “Are you two done getting your gay and presumably-bisexual longing out in the open out there, or should I make popcorn while your gross boy cooties are barring me from my own couch?”

Eddie snorts, and Steve starts shaking with repressed laughter—one part snickering at his best friend’s predicament and three parts relief that she doesn’t sound mad. He’s never been more grateful that they seem to share a brain, even when he doesn’t know how to unpack his own shit sometimes. 

Though, now that he’s started, there’s a lot he wants to talk with her about. Starting with, what does it mean that he’s presumably some sort of bicycle?

“Make the popcorn anyway, we’re busy,” Eddie calls, and kisses Steve again. 

Not chaste this time. Still sweet, but with a richness and depth that Steve parts his lips for eagerly. He may not know the guy part of this but he knows kissing, knows how to adjust without pulling too hard on the reins—and that’s not so different from not really having the reins at all, really. 

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Steve Harrington is on top of the fucking world. 

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@hotluncheddie @hiei-harringtonmunson @sofadofax @hickeysgodcomplex @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[brucewaynehater101]

Hurt/comfort AU based on a dream I had:

Tim has been Robin for a short time now.

Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account.

At this point in time, Bruce has warmed up a little bit to Tim, but they still have a more professional relationship. Tim thinks he has to earn his spot still.

Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account that has fics from before and after Tim becomes Robin.

The before ones are self-insert Bats ones. Plots like a nine, ten, and eleven year old being saved, being the witness to a crime, or solving the case before them. They all end with the self-insert joining the team.

The ones after Tim becomes Robin are filled with Batman being fatherly and kind to the self-insert (who's an additional vigilante) or to Robin. He'll ruffle their hair, hug them, and tell them that he's proud of them. All of this is stuff Bruce currently doesn't do for Tim.

There's only a few fics where Batman is written in embarrassed situations (and Bruce crossed referenced the upload dates. Some of the dates were after Bruce did something mean or fucked up. The others, Bruce has no idea why Tim might have been upset).

When Bruce first reads the fics, he's mad. He, incorrectly, assumes that Tim has always been trying to become part of the team and took the first opportunity available. He's cold to Tim for a few weeks because of this (because Bruce is an emotionally constipated asshole who doesn't communicate).

Then Bruce starts to notice that the relationships Tim describes in his fics don't match up with how their relationship currently is. The teen doesn't eagerly ramble about his activities, ask Bruce to hang out with him, or otherwise engage unless it's mission related.

In fact, Tim's fanfics seem to portray what doesn't happen in their interactions. With Bruce being cold to Tim, the self-insert gets more hugs, words of affection, and praise.

Bruce learns more about Tim's hobbies, likes, dislikes, and passions from the fanfics than he ever knew. Bruce has the startling realization that they just don't talk.

There's a few fics Bruce has been avoiding (the ones with Robin II tags), but he read the ones with Nightwing. Tons of brotherly bonding and affection, basically.

Bruce finally makes up his mind when Tim releases a new fanfic a few days after an interaction with Poison Ivy. In the fic, Robin had gotten dosed with cuddle pollen and was cuddled all night with Batman and Nightwing.

Bruce is in a panic because he realizes that Tim could've gone back to his own house afflicted with cuddle pollen, and Bruce would have never known. He doesn't even know if Tim was making this fanfic as a desire due to him actually being dosed or if it just came to his mind. This freaks Bruce the fuck out.

Thus, Bruce then uses the fanfics as guides for how he should be acting with Tim and Dick. He puts the effort to be a better mentor and parent to them.

It freaks the other two out at first (and Tim is the most resistant to the change), but they slowly become closer.

Bruce never tells anyone that he found Tim's fanfic account.

Part 2: After Red Hood comes back and does the whole Titan's Tower Attack.

Bruce, after realizing that Tim's fanfiction account now had Red Hood fics (both ones making fun of the man and ones where the crime lord is being kind/brotherly), tells Jason mid-fight that he should check out this random fanfic account Bruce thinks he'd enjoy.

Jason, obviously fucking confused why Batman is recommending fanfiction in the middle of a fight, just stops.

Bruce nods at this, tells Jason he cares about him (Bruce has been working on it!), and then just leaves.

Cue Jason researching this account (that he doesn't initially know is Tim's) and going through a series of conflicted emotions.

[steddieas-shegoes]

stumbling into you

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'meet-cute at work' rated: M wc: 999 cw: sexual innuendo, semi-public handsy making out tags: making out, getting together, rock star Eddie Munson, modern au

a/n: let me just say getting this under 1000 words took longer than it took to write the original 1484 words it was 🙁

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Steve's first day was going better than expected.

He'd admittedly lied about his skills to get this job, but how hard could it be to run errands?

A metal band in need of throat lozenges and hot tea was in the studio now.

Easy enough task to do.

When he walked into the control room, it seemed empty.

He looked back and checked the room number on the door.

"Let me help."

Steve turned to see the hottest guy he'd ever seen standing by the mixing board starting to walk over to him.

"Oh. Okay," Steve stuttered out.

"Let me grab the teas," the man said, his hand brushing against Steve's.

"I can just-" Steve let him, flushing when he smiled at him. "I could have set them on the table."

"It's okay, you've got your hands full..." he looked at the badge hanging off his lanyard. "Steve?"

"Yeah, sorry. First day."

"Really?" The man took the pack of throat lozenges from him, opening the bag and popping one in his mouth. "Welcome then. I'm sure we'll see a lot of each other over the next month or so."

"Do you record here a lot?"

"Yeah. We've got this studio booked solid for the next three weeks. Album needs to be perfect and we always get the best quality here."

"So do you sing?"

"I sing. Lead guitar, too."

"Is it a band I know?"

The man looked him over, taking in his business casual appearance, glasses slipping down his nose.

"I don't think we play anything you've listened to. Corroded Coffin?"

"My little brother listens to you! His mom never let him go to a concert though, said it would be too rough on him. He's kinda small for his age and she worries." Steve bit his lip. "Sorry, rambling."

"Cute, Stevie."

Steve blushed.

"I'm Eddie."

"Steve."

"Yeah, Stevie, I got that. You like any metal?" Eddie was clearly trying to have a real conversation with him, but Steve was drawing a blank on what the English language was.

"Never listened to any."

"You wanna listen? Something's off, but I can't put my finger on what. Maybe you could give me an idea."

"M-me?" Steve's eyes went wide.

"Yes, you," Eddie nudged him and tipped his head towards the mixing board. "C'mon, honest opinion."

"I-"

"Pleeeease?" Eddie pouted.

"Okay, but I don't really know what good is supposed to sound like," Steve agreed, walking to the board.

"Good is relative. If you think it sounds like metal music should, that's at least on the right track," Eddie pushed a couple of buttons and flipped a switch.

A surprisingly soft guitar melody filled the room, followed by a husky voice singing.

"This sounds..."

"Sounds?"

"You sound sad."

"Well, that's kind of what I was going for, so I guess that's a good thing."

The music cut off and Steve immediately wished he could hear more.

"Do you have other stuff recorded?" Steve suddenly needed to hear more of Eddie's voice.

"You wanna hear more?"

"If you want?"

Eddie flipped another switch, pressed a button, and a much faster guitar started playing, followed by heavy drums.

"This one doesn't have vocals."

Steve wouldn't listen to this regularly, but he could admit when people were talented, and it was very clear that Eddie and his band were talented.

"You're really good," Steve smiled at him.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Eddie shut off the music and stood up.

He leaned closer to Steve, playful smirk on his face.

"You wanna go in the booth?"

"I'm not allowed."

"I'm allowed and I'm asking, so." Eddie wiggled his eyebrows, making Steve giggle.

"Okay, sure."

Once in the small booth, Steve felt overwhelmed with Eddie's presence.

His body heat was enough to make Steve sweat.

"You do all the lead vocals?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Since day one," Eddie said from right behind him, so close his breath hit the back of Steve's neck.

Steve shivered, closing his eyes as he felt Eddie's hand rest on his lower back.

"Tell me to stop if you want me to," Eddie whispered against his shoulder.

"I don't," Steve gasped.

Eddie turned him, pushing him against the wall behind him.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie breathed against his lips.

Steve nodded, a whimper escaping his mouth as Eddie's lips touched his.

Eddie was a soft chorus, a soft kiss.

A soft moan when Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck.

Eddie's fingers gripped Steve's hips, tugging him forward so their hips met, both already half hard.

"Wait," Steve said when Eddie started kissing down his neck. "When will they be back?"

"Don't know." Eddie nipped at one of Steve's freckles. "Don't care."

Steve moaned again when Eddie's hand found the front of his pants.

"What if-"

"Don't know. Don't care."

Steve threw his head back as Eddie's hand cupped him over his pants.

"Fuck, feels good."

"How fast can you come?" Eddie's hand squeezed, almost making Steve's legs buckle.

"I-"

"Eddie! Thought you were joining us!" A voice yelled.

"Be there in a few! Just wanted to check something!" Eddie yelled back.

"You're a workaholic!"

Eddie checked through the crack in the door to make sure the person left before he turned back to Steve with a sad smile.

"I probably should join them." Eddie cupped the side of Steve's face in his hand. "Maybe after your shift we can meet up?"

"Really?"

"Really, sweetheart."

"Oh. Um, I guess. I mean, it's probably against the rules, but I can give you my number?"

"I won't let them fire you. I made the move, right?" Eddie dipped his thumb into Steve's mouth for just a second, teasing.

Eddie may have made the first move, but Steve was quick to make the next one that night, not giving Eddie a second to say hi before he was in his lap in the backseat of a hired car.

Steve's job had a lot of perks, but gaining a boyfriend was definitely the best one.

[woofs-silly-ships]

Oh boy, it’s that time again

(Haven’t done it much here but when a big piece of media comes out, you usually get a hyperfixated ramble post right after I finish it and a deep dive a day later. This is the deep dive lol)

Warnings: discussion of abuse and neglect, solitary confinement, and ptsd/childhood trauma. And ofc spoilers for WOTFI 2024 and just smg4 in general

Oh yeah and since I’m tagging this as selfship, the selfship stuff is at the bottom of yall want to just skip to that lol

I think I need to preface this by saying I still loved literally all of the WOTFI besides the ending. The song was freaking awesome (I’ll get into that later), the challenges were perfect, the clown designs for the main cast were amazing, etc. I’m just trying to get the negativity out first lol

But yeah ok, gotta get the elephant in the room out of the way first: what the trio chose to do with Puzzles was absolutely awful.

I was mostly shocked that Meggy seemed just totally ok with it considering SHE JUST SAW FIRSTHAND HOW ABUSED PUZZLES WAS??? She literally met his child self and saw how weary he was, how he flinched away from her touch like those are clear signs of abuse and it seems like Meggy should’ve known that

So why the frick didn’t she object? Mario is always doing stupid crap so that makes sense, but you would think Meggy or even SMG4 would do something???

But why is it abuse, you ask? Well, Puzzles has one major issue, and that’s that he has no friends. And then Meggy became friends with his child self, therefore logically setting him on the path to redemption. But obviously Puzzles has done some awful crap and should’ve been punished in some way, maybe something like having to stay exclusively in the showgrounds for a while until he shows improvement, with the gang there to support him (just came up with that off the top of my head lol). But you know what they decided was the best possible punishment for this man? Solitary freaking confinement. The punishment notorious for literally causing prisoners to go insane due to lack of interaction. And you just had to give that specific punishment to a man WHO LOST HIS FREAKING MIND AS A CHILD DUE TO LACK OF INTERACTION?? DO YALL SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THIS???

I’m not even mad that they did that, obviously it’s wrong but these are fictional characters making that decision, and characters can be misguided. You can have characters that literally violate everything on a basic dni list or something, characters can be evil. My issue is when it is glorified or romanticized. And that’s pretty much exactly what they’re doing here

Another line that came out of Meggy’s mouth that really hurt me was when she said that maybe he’d get better in there, stop being so obsessed with ratings…. is she stupid? The whole reason why this all started is because Puzzles was an abused child with no friends who basically hyperfixated on wanting to fulfill his dream of running a park (and later tv production as well) but was shut down by his father and isolated himself with a tv all day. Meggy had just managed to heal his inner child and see the good in him. And then they act like finally giving him what he needs to heal and then VIOLENTLY RIPPING IT AWAY FROM HIM AND LOCKING HIM IN A ROOM (MIGHT I ADD, LIKE HE DID AS A CHILD DUE TO TRUAMA, THERE IS NO WAY THIS ISNT BRINGING UP SOME GENUINE PTSD FROM HIM) IS GOING TO JUST MAGICALLY FIX HIM??? NO! AND THERE IS ZERO INDICATION IN THE MOVIE, NOT EVEN A HINT, THAT THE TRIO MIGHT BE IN THE WRONG.

I’m sorry, but this is abuse and also extreme neglect of what Puzzles needed to change.

And also, Puzzles being a villain doesn’t make any of this ok. Didn’t we already learn that with SMG3?? Villains that have clear issues like this can be reformed over time, it just takes work. But no, apparently they’re not gonna do that

Genuinely speaking: if they wanted betrayal via Mario, they should’ve had him just straight up kill Puzzles or something right then and there. Or keep the original story but have the others seem horrified of what Mario did.

Also that scene really should’ve been given more time to breathe, I know this is the haha funny Mario spaghetti show but that doesn’t excuse going from villain being likely reformed to villain being arrested and the park exploding in a matter of 5 god dang seconds. Sure that would’ve been funny if this was some random side character or minor reoccurring villain, but this was literally the man behind 3-4 arcs and the star of 2 more, and a clear fan favorite character. Even if he wasn’t gonna die, they should’ve treated it like Axol or One Shot Wren, where both the audience and characters are given time to mourn and see what was happening, see character reactions, all of that. Even a stupid line from a couple of the police officers would’ve worked perfectly. Just time to process what the frick just happened.

My only other issue besides, well, all that lmao, is that the actual movie was just nothing like the trailer, like there were scenes exclusively in the trailer and that felt really weird to me

Ok, negativity out of the way now :D

The song!!! I was kinda hoping for a rap but yeah this fit way better lol, haven’t seen anybody talk about it but the puzzles design with just the head and hands is freaking epic omgggg

Also I loved how the parts sung by the trio are kinda more akin to children’s movie songs (describing exactly what’s happening on screen, the sad “I know there’s good in you” part, etc) and then Puzzle’s parts are just hahaha I’m gonna freaking turn your corpses into gushing mounds of blood-

Also GGRRRR I WANT TO DRAW THE CLOWN DESIGNS SO BADDDD!!! THEYRE SO DANG COOL!!!

And also UGHHH THE MERCHHH I WANT IT SO BAD BUT IM B R O K E 😭

The challenges were also really fitting, didn’t see any users I recognized but those that got in were perfect

And no SMG34 fuel sadly :(, eh can’t always get the gay old men lol, maybe next time

And yeah this is my selfship blog so gotta let a few of the demons out:

THE FREAKING FACE HE MADE BEFORE ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE!! IGNORING WHAT HAPPEN AFTER HE WAS SO GOD DANG CUTE AND I JUST WANTED TO HUG HIM AND CUDDLE HIM GRGGRGRGR HES SO DANG SILLY-

Anddd that’s about it! This post will probably get like, 2 notes but who tf cares!! I just needed to ramble a lot lol

[deathdetermineslife]

how do you manage to get any followers or friends in the selfshipping community? is it just luck?

for months i’ve been trying to interact with others and follow people, engaging with stuff like ask games and hosting reblog games, but when i try to share any artwork or i reblog an ask game myself, its radio silence. like even in small discords i get ignored so bad

i don’t say this at all to be guilt tripping /gen, it’s genuine curiosity at how this stuff even works. like am i doing something wrong or is the community just like this?

here is my comprehensive and lame guide on How To Get Selfship Followers

step 1 - posting

so a lot of my posts are either kinda general or fun. folks I will not lie to you. these are all stupid shit that come to my mind on a day to day basis. for example, today, I thought, "man I'm such a loser I'm not in college like all my friends r" and then I was like "omg wait. i could make a post out of this" so I did that.

you also kinda gotta be conistent. so i try to post at least *something* everyday. even if its a reblog, tho, I don't reblog a lot of things other than ask games.

another thing with posting is that i do try to make a lot of community based content. so idk if yall remember but in the beginning of my account, I did the "things you can do if you have xyz f/o". i did like,,, I think almost 100 of those ?????? it was a lot. then I started making templates and I made some ask games and ofc I post a lot of general like,,, imagine stuff. oh also polls. people seem to enjoy polls.

step 2 - be positive

this is the big thing. as most of yall (hopefully) know, I do not fw proshippers !! but I don't talk about discourse unless its directly brought up. not only this, I put a big focus on just,,, being nice idk. like id like to think I'm a pretty down to earth person.

if you make a template and people tag you in it, say something nice! reply to peoples art, send in asks, things like that. i try to do my part in being nice. i also just like hearing about peoples selfships.

when people post promos and have the little "rb to be moots", reblog! when you come across someone having a bad day, maybe they made a vent or something, reply with a simple "I hope you feel better <3" or "your f/o loves you <3". things like that, ya know?

step 3 - have fun

genuinely. i post as much as i do because I like it. i didn't go into this thinking "oh... yea... I'm gonna get selfship famous..." like no I just wanna ramble somewhere bc none of my close irls r selfshippers.

you wont get popular or get followers because you grind out posts. literally one of my biggest posts on this account I wrote while I was half asleep one night and wanted to test out queuing on my account.

and in that regard, it is partially luck. i don't control what posts people do and don't like. sometimes I write up imagines and no one sees them. sometimes I write up a post saying "lol go kiss your fake boyfriend ooo smoochie smoochie" and that does numbers

step 4 - interaction

im only in two servers. one server (which was the first public server I think I ever joined ???? i could be wrong tho,,, bad memory blehg) that I don't own and then my own 18+ server. i don't think being in servers does anything,,, considering I'm only in one that isn't mine. i think its more like ,,, sticking to one or two places ?? like just being consistently in an area you're comfortable in.

i guess you gotta just find the right people ??? and like I mentioned, be friendly, but ya know. also I guess tags too? idk if you look at any of my regular posts I have 8 million tags on them. idk if that actually does anything or not because its kinda hit or miss sometimes.

i was gonna say something else but i forgot. see look listen I dunno how I got here but this is what I do ,,,, effectively nothing. also with the being kind thing, maybe this is how I am bc I'm pagan but I think that if you expect kindness back you wont get anything. sometimes its just nice to be nice. eventually you gain a reputation for being a nice person. you kinda have to not want that tho? like I don't see myself as particularly like ,,, super kind ,,,??? i just do what feels right.

step 5 - uhhhh idk im just rambling now

i guess i also went into this kinda like. damn sometimes this community is a cesspool of absolute meanie pants. i don't wanna be a Meanie Pants and just post my thoughts and the things I think about. i guess how I see it too is, I kinda like ? idk I think all these things anyways why not post them? kinda feels like a waste not to.

also ive been told my posts are pretty recognizable bc of how I format them ? my dividers and such. also tagging all of my imagines and stuff with my 🥀📜 emojis. i guess that helps too? because that's how I recognize certain accounts. "like oh there's them I recognize their dividers and their tags".

also you kinda gotta like,,, not let hate get to you. like have fun with it? i know that's hard, but, that's what you gotta do. when I get printer ink (bc. a hoe does NOT like buying printer ink) im printing out that fucking 8 mile long hate message I got sent. but also that's just the kinda person I am. like people being a dick and stealing my posts and telling me to swallow a glock 9mm doesn't upset me, im more like,, confused more than anything because never in my life have I ever sent hate to anyone. also I have had this "I do not care because you're some loser on the internet and you being an ass wipe is no where near as bad as the shit people have done to me irl" attitude.

TLDR; i dont think youre doing anything wrong because I don't exactly know what I'm doing right. i just... do... and sometimes, "just doing" is enough. maybe its luck, maybe I've been blessed by the tumblr algorithm and I've somehow figured it out, or maybe the community is just genuinely that bad and they pick favorites. maybe its all of the above! who knows. i try not to worry about it. i think at the end of the day, as long as you're having fun posting about your f/os and selfshipping, that's what matters.

alright thats all see ya. if you have any more questions feel free to ask however I fear I cannot answer them </3

[count-geiger]

alright guys i got a surprise class cancellation so i can tell yall about the stb dress rehearsal show last night and how it went. this is gonna be a long one grab a drink

no JUICY DEETS if you were expecting that. i am not a leaker and will never be. more like a gushy review than anything

so if you wanna hear about how will wood now knows about my university’s garfield club, feel free to read.

first of all, i can’t actually say much about the content of the show itself. sorry if that’s what you were hoping for but, if you’re going to a show on the tour, YOU WILL THANK ME LATER.

however i can say some stuff

like first of all: it is very much a kind of theatrical performance. no shit sherlock, you may be saying. okay sure but what i mean by that is that it’s not JUST a concert.

it’s very narrative based, that’s the most i’m going to say on it.

additionally, based on stuff ww said after the show while everyone talking feedback and such…

after the tour starts, PLEASE DO NOT POST SPOILERS ON TUMBLR!!! this is the kind of thing you’re going to want to see without any idea going in.

like it’s also very much a comedy show and knowing all the jokes beforehand will kinda ruin it.

so if you wanna post about the show on tumblr after you’ve seen it, maybe like. tag it or something. or put under a cut.

anyways i digress

the show was absolutely fantastic

genuinely the most wonderful i’ve ever seen in my entire life

i laughed my ass off, i cried a little, i thought way too hard about my own life decisions

all the things you’d ever want

it was NOT what i expected it to be. but it was even better than whatever i was expecting

so PLEASE take my word that all of you are going to love it.

okay that train of thought is over anyways

the vending machine at the studio only took ones (LITERALLY FUCK OFF THATS SO DUMB) so i spent most of the show with the driest mouth known to man

i’d had a sprite from said vending machine when i first got there because they also don’t have any water in it (????????) but not even like a whole can it got warm super fast

that’s just a random aside

multiple people complimented both my button down shirt AND the oingo boingo shirt i had underneath

including will’s girlfriend!! who is very pretty and seems very very nice.

she took our phones at the doors and checked our IDs and such and she was fine with the fact that i do not own a piece of ID that confirms my date of birth so that was cool.

the phone pouches we had were handmade by her apparently! they were really cool and she did a great job

anyways

i met will after the show after trying to offer feedback while we were still doing that that and stumbling through my horrific brain fog to say nothing of value because i was terribly sleep deprived!

me and jay (@jayjamjary) went at the same time

now some background.

me and jay are friends IRL, we go to the same college. people who both A. follow me and B. consistently read my ramblings in the tags will know this. but there are like three of those people AND i’m putting tags on this post so yeah

anyways we are both members of the executive board of the (officially recognized) GARFIELD CLUB at our university.

i am dead serious

and because the garfield club’s primary demographic is gay/trans autistic people, there’s a huge population of will wood fans in that club.

so jay brought two excellent drawings he’d made for the club, originally to recruit members, for will to sign.

because we have garfield show and tell contest on wednesday and we wanted to fuckin win

ANYWAYS.

these drawings, by the way, just happened to be of garfield being crucified and of garfield as hatsune miku.

will’s reaction to seeing these drawings was, and i quote, “what the fuck”

his reaction to the existence of the garfield club was, and i quote, “what the fuck”

both like a very amused, bewildered what the fuck.

he then signed them with possibly the greatest thing he’s ever signed ANYTHING and i’ll have to force jay to post them.

anyways

i also showed him a drawing i made for him, because i wanted to make a drawing for him.

he said my drawing was really really cool and he was really happy that i got his nose right because he never sees that

i was SO happy to hear that i was like ready to cry i was scared that drawing sucked

cuz i just did in the course of like a few hours while sitting at a random table in a big room on campus and all that whatever

but like yeah he called his girlfriend over she complimented it too

he signed it!!!

we took a picture and it looked a million times better than the two other pictures i have with him so that’s great

anyways

i’m trying very pointedly to avoid saying anything about the actual show because i want people to be able to go in blind

because *i* did and it was amazing

and i’m so glad that the show i’m going to is going to be super different apparently so i’ll ALSO have no idea what to expect from that

also, for anyone curious, i’m going to asbury park/halloween show november 3rd (and im going as young ford pines, specifically that time in tbob when he was possessed by bill, so if you see that there, that’s me)

anyways

man take shot anytime i say anyways

you’ll be fuckin dead

i had a great night, it was a spectacular show, you’re all gonna love it when you see it

[isan0rt]

@lightandfellowship re: your tags on this post (just to kind of bring this out to a different post).

I was thinking about making a separate post to expand on those tags anyway because they were a little off topic to the op, but I was like, you know, it's that Xehanort was worse to the Dandelions than Luxu was, yes. But Luxu was supposed to be that callous to the Dandelions in the first place. He was supposed to think of them as tools and to just let whatever fucked up thing was supposed to happen to them just happen. And with anyone else he can, but he can't put his personal feelings aside enough to 'do what needs to be done' for this set of people alone.

But Xehanort can.

And I think that's really interesting when looking at Xehanort as the 'replacement Luxu.' Xehanort who, as observed by another post I don't have immediately to hand, speaks with MoM twice. Xehanort who is chosen by MoM and manipulated into doing his bidding the same way Luxu was, given the same coat and made the heir to Luxu's keyblade, Xehanort who actually is allowed to take action to bring the Keyblade War about and revive the Lost Masters while Luxu is only allowed to watch.

Actually I started this post with a different thesis ('Xehanort is able to put his personal feelings aside and be ruthless even where Luxu fails to follow his role') but writing that paragraph I've changed my mind actually. Because Luxu has basically no agency in this situation, whereas Xehanort does.

Like, both of them are assigned roles by their mentors but Xehanort isn't really given a road map about how to fulfill his role. He's being manipulated, sure, but he's also making choices himself all along. They're choices that are fucked up but he understands they're fucked up and is choosing them anyway because he strongly feels it's necessary for the greater good.

Luxu has been told these things are necessary for the greater good. He's been told what to do. He's been told to just watch and that he can never take action. He doesn't even have the illusion of agency that Xehanort, who is actively choosing to lean into his feeling that destiny is inevitable, does. What is that like, to live hundreds of years never having any sense of agency? For Luxu, helping the Dandelions is fucking up. It's doing what he knows he's not supposed to, what he's been told is against the Plan, but he has no agency and this is his little way of rebelling, even if this is, to us, the 'right' thing to do. There's a question of what actually is 'right' and 'wrong' here and whether Xehanort is a 'better Luxu' than Luxu for choosing to simply follow The Plan.

Also I'm rambling here but putting things together as I go, sorry to also expand on other tags on posts I reblogged from you lol, but like. Luxu also very clearly has Lucifer stuff going on, the same way Xehanort does, down to the name. Xehanort takes on the Satan imagery over time - but it was Luxu's first. And Luxu is the one who actually tried to rebel against his Creator by deviating from his role (only to watch) and intervening with the Union leaders.

The thing about angels is they are not, in Catholic traditions (I can't speak to other denominations) is that they are not supposed to have free will. Free will is for humans; angels only follow The Plan, with no agency or say in the matter. They're messengers and avatars created only to execute the will of God. The Foretellers seem to play this role, if you will, in relation to Master of Masters. He hands them roles to execute the plan he's already designed. If we're, in this analogy, considering Master of Masters to be in the role of 'god', both Ava and Luxu are ultimately fallen angels - they both question the will of their creator, both rebel - but Luxu rebelling was built into the plan. He is Lucifer, and Lucifer rebels, and so he was still allowed to come back to the fold at the end of kh3, having fulfilled his duty even considering his rebellion. He still had no agency in the end, even having done what he thought was exercising it by saving the Union leaders.

Anyway I'm just rambling on at this point and don't really have a conclusion to this but the whole interplay between Luxu and Xehanort, agency and servitude, angels and devils, light and dark, feels really compelling to me.

[givemedamage]

i dont really ramble slash just post my thoughts that much anymore bc im like an on edge bitch plus ive gotten ten times more incoherent off my meds and i dont wanna subject anyone to that except for in tags on art posting maybe sometimes ill be like BARRRRFFF WORDS but i wanna do it now bc. i just want to On that note like i definitely have posted dipshit dumbass stuff like oversharing stuff or stuff i no longer agree with or wish i worded better or didnt speak so soon on like i have a journal if i really need to tell the universe i just took a shit but ANYWAYTHATS NOT EVEN THE POINT OF THIS RAMBLE WAIT THIS WAS ART RELATED RAMBLING ok so like i've been trying to quote unquote relearn art for a hot minute cold second now and sometimes, ill think of that one ask i got that was like 'how do you draw furries' or How do you draw anthros or IT WAS SOMETHING LIKE THAT and i cant remember what exactly i replied ,GIVEN THAT IS A VERY VAGUE QUESTION BUT LIKE i definitely replied something strange and unhelpful like 'ufhhh just practice :D !!!!! find fun ways to furrify the furry idk' AND LIKE IF THAT WAS YOU IM SO SORRY i feel like there's so much stuff i didn't AND STILL DON'T OBVIOUSLY know even though ive been doing furry art since babyhood like how important fundamental whatever is WHICH I KNOW SOUNDS DUMB LIKE OBVIOUSLY FUNDAMENTALS ARE IMPORTANT but like. learning perspective and actual shading not just guessing and using people pose and animals pose references and doing figure studies and outside places studies has HELPED ME SO MUCH LIKE WOW WHAT THE FUCK there's just little things i never learned in art class. little things i'll notice like 'huh foot (paw?) placement is actually rlly awesome and also important drawing a character standing' or like 'so that's what a trapezius is' or like 'ohhh i get it now, things are scaled bigger when they're closer and i should be thinking about the pov also' which like the last time i was in an art class i was literally a FRESHMAN IN HS so like. like yeah But how to draw furries individual , i apologize but if i was asked that again id probably be like ''References and youtube tutorial and especially that animal skull github angle reference website saved my hide'' WHICH ISNT REALLY THAT BETTER OF A RESPONSE NOW THAT IM LOOKING AT IT BUT LIKE I COULDVE more concisely said (ironic sonsidering how fucking long this spiel is becoming)that i don't know what the fuck im doing but i love resources and i love pencils and skecthing and i love wawa color and painting and digitaling arting and i love my fake world and artists i love you and artists who struggle making art they want i love you and artists who want to do art but are nervous to start or are preoccupied with other shit i love you . i know stuffs really hard out here for everyone and excuse me for being so unspecific about it but it seems like everyday it's just another thing it's honestly getting hard to keep up with much less sum up my frustrations towards in a single already tragically rambly post and i hate it so much and stay safe and i'm sorry do not die quietly plus never kill yourself. Tl,dr; i run on sentence about how art is good and fun, (somewhat gushily and long windedly )

[alexablissmark]

I love your writing and I was wondering if you could write a Hook fic where reader comforts him after the betrayal from Jack?

comforting hook <3 (and thank you for the compliment!)

*g/n reader but an explicit mention of Hook outweighing reader

it was a rough night for Hook. not only did he get back stabbed by one of his closest friends, he was sitting on a backstage storage crate looking like a total loser. after Jack's betrayal, Hook didn't really have any friends, at least not the way he used too. Team Taz ended long ago, Dan got injured, dad was always busy, y/n had other friends, and Jack... well, you know. Hook had nobody anymore, not that he minded, but god was it nice to have a friend, someone who you could really trust. someone who could empathize with him, and goddammit, someone who could give him a ride back to the damn hotel!

as countless backstage staff and talent walked by, no one even looked in his direction, almost as if they were actively avoiding him. wow, how pathetic.

Hook zoned out for bit while a few tears formed. but then he was pulled back into reality.

"hello? earth to Hook?" a soft voice said.

Hook snapped out of his small trance and looked at you. you looked in his eyes and noticed the tears starting to well-up. you sat next to him on the crate.

"you doing okay?" you asked.

"yea," he said while sniffling the tears so you couldn't see them.

you touched him on the arm.

"Hook...listen," you started, "i know how it feels, and i understand you probably don't even want to be around people right now, but i can't just let you go through what i did..."

you too, had been turned on by your former tag partner. god, what an awful night that was. you couldn't bear to see a friend go through that too! especially not one you had been chasing for the better part of a year!

he didn't say anything.

"look, how about we go back to my hotel room? didn't you guys share a room?" you asked.

"yea," he said.

"and your dad isn't here tonight, is he?

"nah," Hook replied.

"okay. get your stuff," you said.

"k."

when you were driving back, it really started to dawn on you how little Hook actually talks. maybe that's what made you two such good friends, he prefers to listen to you ramble, while occasionally looking at you where he probably shouldn't, and you talk about the latest drama or cute thing your cat did. but once you got into the hotel room, the narrative flipped.

you listened to Hook for what seemed like hours, talking about how much Jack had hurt him. how lonely he felt on those crates. how he felt like nothing but a burden to those around him in those moments.

but he also said how much he appreciates you, and how much your friendship means to him. that's when you swear you saw some tears falling down his cheeks, but he was quick to wipe them away. he said he's glad to have you as a friend, and if you were to be his only friend, he wouldn't particularly mind that. it's a risk to trust people after all.

and then Hook did something completely out of character.

he hugged you.

you were kinda shocked at first, but quickly embraced him in your arms as he buried his head into your shoulder, and you moved your hand up to his head to comb through his hair.

"thank you," he whispered. "thank you for being here for me."

"anytime," you said. "let's go to bed."

"like this?" he asked.

"yeah, like this."

it was a pain to move him off you the next morning. Hook's arms were around you tight and him outweighing you did not help. eventually, you did wake up early to surprise him with some Doritos. when you gave it to him, he smiled a wide, genuine smile.

he thought about kissing you, but he didn't. and you'd be lying if you said you weren't thinking the same thing.

"next time for sure though," Hook thought.

hope u liked! felt like taking a more angsty route idk

[agirlandherquill]

through the puddles of ink

since it's a new academic year, a new chapter of my life and i thought, since i've been on tumblr for around eight months now that it's about time i properly introduced myself - this would shock the person i was when i first started this blog, but as it's grown so have i, and i think university has indefinitely helped my confidence - so, without further ado, here goes i'll start this properly by explaining the title of this post - through the puddle of ink

ink is important because obviously it is the basis of literature, the foundation of stories and fitting to my blog name, you dip the quill in the ink to write, to forge an adventure that tests the imagination and takes a reader to wonderful places and puddles because let's face it, ink is messy, ink is chaotic, just like me, my characters, and my writing and because through the looking glass is a very iconic title i also watched that movie in the cinema years ago, i took inspiration, and here we are now - this post is a reflection of me, the beautiful nightmares and writing gremlins that co-exist within my brain and a way for me to get to better know my mutuals, anyone and everybody on writeblr!

here comes the scary part - only for me, and my semi-awkward self - introducing myself, i've never been very good at this stuff so bear with me - and have mercy on my nervous soul,

for the longest time i've loved the sort of self-imposed anonymity of this blog, and don't get me wrong i still do adore my blog name but I thought it was about time I properly introduced myself, so, let me just shuffle some papers in the library of my mind, find the right phrasing for this and... (cue angry hitting of the keyboard) hello! my name is Erin and i'm a writer, a lover of chaos, and a semi-functioning tempest somehow existing within society - i love and ramble about lots of different things - books, shows, songs, you name it, i can waffle and sometimes i can waffle well (that is how i am now going to describe my writing, because it feels like it fits so well)

phew, i got that out, that tiny paragraph was a lot of effort (and i've beaten writers block more often than i can count)

this little post might not seem like much, but to me it's a lot, and i'm happy to have made it this far, and i'm so looking forward to continuing to grow alongside this blog and writeblr (i love you all, no seriously)

and now onto some very much needed rambling about my works, because there's a lot the lovely folk of writeblr are yet to know (and it will come, in time, but here's what i can say for now)

Ruin's Reprisal - we all know the tale of this, my oldest, most functioning (cough, using that term loosely) work - well, where to start? well, i'm on the final stage of proofreading, and once that's all done i'm hoping (let's be honest, dreaming,) to have the final draft complete and out in the great wide world come christmas/new year (that is a courageous goal, even for me, but who knows, maybe i can pull it off, just maybe)

A Deal Of Daggers - it's almost time for nanowrimo, which marks two years since the idea for this first came to me, and i cannot wait to spend autumn working on it (not that i am participating in nano properly this year, what with student-life obligations, but i'm going to write what i can) and i've been steadily chipping away with a few chapters already

those are my two main works, and probably the only works i've been focusing on over the last couple of months - and i've fallen completely and wholeheartedly in love with them all over again, as i do, every single time i open the files on scrivener

as far as my tired but over-eager to write brain can think this should be it for everything i wanted to include in this post until the next post (which won't be long, i can guarantee it),

~ Erin, A Girl and Her Quill, or whatever this hellscape would like to call me :)

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list! (i forgot to add it when i posted, oops!)

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies

[walkingaline]

2024 - mixed reviews from a Hell of a year

So, @oonajaeadira tagged me in a lovely game, created by the Pedro Pascal fandom. They're collecting a list of their favourite creations, and spreading the love.

I haven't been creating a lot even for my original fandom (Hell, basically) even, so sadly I don't have anything to put on the Pedro plate (although, my love for the guy and his roles keeps growing).

I would still like to start the same thing. I know this year has been tough for a lot of folks out there, so, if you want to take a moment to list your accomplishments... this is the right place for it.

@panthera-dei, @risingphoenix761 @additionaladdams @ichbinnurzugast @hectatess @letsby @mashathemachine and the one beloved moot who probably has something to offer to the original game, @alwaysbethewest 🖤🧡

Fanfic-wise, it's been a lean year, but

Bad Day At MacLeod's is still a soft cuddle after a long day. I've had far too many days that only seemed to bring issues, stress and the bad kind of chaos. And every single one of those was made better just by winding down and finding some comfort in the quiet closeness of friends who just get it.

Thistle And Blood was created for a challenge, but it made me stretch my noir muscles. It was just so. Fun! There are two more AUs that came up for the same challenge (including a Space Opera AU, which was absolutely right up my alley and incredibly fun to toy with, as well).

I've run the Crowley Big Bang, prepped the Crowley Reverse Bang, partook in the @alphabetquest and I'm currently waiting on posting for another Bang, and already signed up for a couple more.

So... go on, peeps. Tags are open and zero pressure, but tell me. Dig deep and share what brilliant things you did. And if you haven't done anything, fandom-wise... there's always next year.

In case we want to talk about personal life, my rambling starts now:

I must say, the favourite thing I've written this year have been original works.

I've been working closely with a friend for a while, now. It all started as a game, and like games often do, it led me down a road I would have never thought to walk. After years of using my skills to help others telling stories, I've decided to start spinning my own.

Imagine my shock when this absolute first script (although it'd been rewritten and reworked several times) placed in a contest. I definitely didn't win, but I feel like I did.

I've been having a few tough years. I've lost people - some are gone, others just gone from my life. I've wasted time, energy and attention. I've loved too little, or in the wrong ways. I've been stuck. Back in April, I've lost the invaluable company of my sweet dog.

This year, though, I've also started doing things that make me happy. I've travelled a lot more. I've met new people who made things easier without even trying. I've watched a lot of loved ones going through bad stuff, and coming out of it on top, more determined to be kind than anything - because I'm privileged enough to know a bunch of bastard punks with hearts of gold. The joy, the heartbreak, the poetry, the ruin. Everything was there.

This year felt like it was 4 or 5 years long, but all considered, I can't wait to get into more shenanigans next year.

[fullmusicbardsquared]

PLEASE HELP SARAH

I'm David/Phillip- call me Dave (or Phillip)! my pronouns are he/him & shark/sharks

🐟 I regularly blog about: MY OCS. I often post about my jukebox musical story Vinyl Hell (though I am currently on a 'hiatus' from it that is not really hiatusing OOPS), and my other, less developed stories. they're 99% of what I draw & ramble about. they are all WIPs, and they are not very good, so questions or thoughts or critiques are always welcome, I like hearing them. ~ Talking Heads & David Byrne's solo work, the artists that have probably impacted me the most in my life. I blog about other music too but by blog I mean post a link & reblog it 50 times ~ Star Trek, mostly TOS & TNG because I finished them, though I have started watching DS9 (season 4) & VOY (season 1). I love it a lot but I don't make anything ~ the most recent movies I have seen. these may receive a tag, or not, it depends on how passionate I feel about them/the likelihood of me Rewatching them. if you like letterboxd, I have one :p ~ I was super into to JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (1-8) for most of my time on here until like early 2024. I am no longer reading it but I often reblog fanart that's on my dash, or the posts my friends make.

🦈 specific tags I use: #talking in my head (tag used for my general communication), #my art, #vinyl hell tag (where i put plot-related things for my aforementioned freaks..here is a brief overview of the 2 main characters, here is a lore masterpost), #my ocs (for anyone else / fun stuff), #fish on (tag for aquatic things when I remember), & #my edits <3 (for when i color manga panels)

🐟 Misc: feel free to block any tags you dislike! ~ I'm a trans man & aromantic (aroace, but I prefer the aro label). I do not really engage with either of those communities/their culture on here though ~ I'm STUPID. I am not saying this to be overly negative, I am just not very smart. nevertheless I like to try and practice my skills at analysis, so many of my posts are like that. if you dislike reading stupid/naive thoughts, I am not the blog for you. ~ if you care about neurodivergency, I am neurotypical*, so tell me if I do something wrong or offensive. ~ I am always love being critiqued on what I make! PLEASE DO THIS! I also like tags/comments in general, but critiques are extra important cause they help me get better! getting better is important because what I make just factually sucks. ~ I'm not very energetic when talking to people, so if I seem nervous or beating around the bush talking to you, it's not anything you've done. ~ I like a lot of silly & older things. I do not have an income or any kind of gaming platform, and I am currently in school and thus have homework, so I will basically never interact with tumblr's game | show | movie of the week even if I want to.

*I have been informed that I am not, but only by my friends, and I don't wish to misrepresent myself and be one of those people who do it for trendy points.

🦈 DNI: people who think aromantic & asexual people are not queer. zionists and people who think Palestine isn't experiencing a genocide.

sometimes I get emotional, upset, depressed, or have suicidal feelings out of nowhere, but I usually get over it in a few minutes - if you see that, don't worry about it. I have trouble remembering what I do when upset, so it stresses me out to have people worried about me. dont respond unless it's something neutral like a hug emoji or you're one of my friends

currently & actively watching: Twin Peaks

promo post for my friend's beautiful fanfiction.

okay some gifs from stuff I like & blinkies below.

these blinkies are gifts from @doyouremem8erme!

this blinkie was made by cheezitofthevalley!