#4. for some reason they take tipping separately

[gatheryepens]

Things I’ve learnt whilst being in nyc

[writingwithfolklore]

5 Tips for Creating Intimidating Antagonists

Antagonists, whether people, the world, an object, or something else are integral to giving your story stakes and enough conflict to challenge your character enough to change them. Today I’m just going to focus on people antagonists because they are the easiest to do this with!

1. Your antagonist is still a character

While sure, antagonists exist in the story to combat your MC and make their lives and quest difficult, they are still characters in the story—they are still people in the world.

Antagonists lacking in this humanity may land flat or uninteresting, and it’s more likely they’ll fall into trope territory.

You should treat your antagonists like any other character. They should have goals, objectives, flaws, backstories, etc. (check out my character creation stuff here). They may even go through their own character arc, even if that doesn’t necessarily lead them to the ‘good’ side.

Really effective antagonists are human enough for us to see ourselves in them—in another universe, we could even be them.

2. They’re… antagonistic

There’s two types of antagonist. Type A and Type B. Type A antagonist’s have a goal that is opposite the MC’s. Type B’s goal is the same as the MC’s, but their objectives contradict each other.

For example, in Type A, your MC wants to win the contest, your antagonist wants them to lose.

In Type B, your MC wants to win the contest, and your antagonist wants to win the same contest. They can’t both win, so the way they get to their goal goes against each other.

A is where you get your Draco Malfoy’s, other school bullies, or President Snow’s (they don’t necessarily want what the MC does, they just don’t want them to have it.)

B is where you get the other Hunger Games contestants, or any adventure movie where the villain wants the secret treasure that the MCs are also hunting down. They want the same thing.

3. They have well-formed motivations

While we as the writers know that your antagonist was conceptualized to get in the way of the MC, they don’t know that. To them, they exist separate from the MC, and have their own reasons for doing what they do.

In Type A antagonists, whatever the MC wants would be bad for them in some way—so they can’t let them have it. For example, your MC wants to destroy Amazon, Jeff Bezos wants them not to do that. Why not? He wants to continue making money. To him, the MC getting what they want would take away something he has.

Other motivations could be: MC’s success would take away an opportunity they want, lose them power or fame or money or love, it could reveal something harmful about them—harming their reputation. It could even, in some cases, cause them physical harm.

This doesn’t necessarily have to be true, but the antagonist has to believe it’s true. Such as, if MC wins the competition, my wife will leave me for them. Maybe she absolutely wouldn’t, but your antagonist isn’t going to take that chance anyway.

In Type B antagonists, they want the same thing as the MC. In this case, their motivations could be literally anything. They want to win the competition to have enough money to save their family farm, or to prove to their family that they can succeed at something, or to bring them fame so that they won’t die a ‘nobody’.

They have a motivation separate from the MC, but that pesky protagonist keeps getting in their way.

4. They have power over the MC

Antagonists that aren’t able to combat the MC very well aren’t very interesting. Their job is to set the MC back, so they should be able to impact their journey and lives. They need some sort of advantage, privilege, or power over the MC.

President Snow has armies and the force of his system to squash Katniss. She’s able to survive through political tension and her own army of rebels, but he looms an incredibly formidable foe.

Your antagonist may be more wealthy, powerful, influential, intelligent, or skilled. They may have more people on their side. They are superior in some way to the protagonist.

5. And sometimes they win

Leading from the last point, your antagonists need wins. They need to get their way sometimes, which means your protagonist has to lose. You can do a bit of a trade off that allows your protagonist to lose enough to make a formidable foe out of their antagonist, but still allows them some progress using Fortunately, Unfortunately.

It goes like… Fortunately, MC gets accepted into the competition. Unfortunately, the antagonist convinces the rest of the competitors to hate them. Fortunately, they make one friend. Unfortunately, their first entry into the competition gets sabotaged. Fortunately, they make it through the first round anyway, etc. etc.

An antagonist that doesn’t do any antagonizing isn’t very interesting, and is completely pointless in their purpose to heighten stakes and create conflict for your protagonist to overcome. We’ll probably be talking about antagonists more soon!

Anything I missed?

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet girl pt.4

dbf William Afton x fem/virgin reader

synop: William finds reader sunbathing and goes after the opportunity, even with the risk of her dad catching the two of you.

warning: smut, corruption, coercion, inappropriate relationship, exhibitionism(?) William is as always pretty creepy and manipulative.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

A/n: This one is pretty dirty at the end, just a heads up if you're into playing around with cum.

The view was fortunate, is the first thought to enter William’s head when he sees you like that. Completely unaware of him, facing away with your head buried in some book as you try to pick up some sun on your back. Vulnerable to him, the only thing keeping you safe was the french windows of your house, separating the fox from the rabbit. 

He’d come over meaning to return some kind of wrench to your dad, in hindsight you remember the conversation in passing, how you hadn’t been paying attention until you learned William was coming. Your father’s car wasn’t in the drive but he let himself in anyway, a flimsy hope of catching you home alone pushing him to. He called out, he’s not a complete criminal, “Anyone home?” and the like, all to no reply. Maybe he would have crept up the stairs to find your room, with you in it would have been delightful, but he still could have busied himself if you weren’t. Now that’s a thought, he bets your room is sweet, probably a tonne of pillows and teddies, some kind of soft light-coloured duvet, that air of innocence you’ve managed to maintain all this time. Delicious. 

Maybe he would have done that, if not for the music. Some sort of summery, perhaps Spanish influenced guitar, muffled through the house as though it were close by, so he looked for its source. And by God, is he glad he did.  

Your house has a knack for letting a lot of light in, keeps the place bright and airy, and now he sees why, not a stitch of curtains to be found on the large glass windows, and not much of a stitch to be found on you either. It’s the most tantalising sight, your legs bare and leading up to the plump of your arse in such a little bikini, the kind that ties with string at the hips. He notes its practicality for an adjustable fit but also its practicality for other reasons. Just watching through the glass, he palms the growing hardness in his trousers as he considers his options. 

Santana, you think to yourself when the next song on the playlist you found begins to play, your dad likes this song, you reckon you do too, though you can’t really decide from one or two listens. And you’re not really concentrating, not with your novel open in front of you, which after days of forcing yourself to read was finally getting interesting. Occupied. Distracted. Easy. 

That’s why you don’t hear the back door slide open. 

In fact, you don’t hear anything. Not the door. Not the footsteps on the grass. The only thing that makes William’s presence known to you is his shadow on your book, his large frame stealing your light. It’s a chilling sight, the kind of realisation that pushes you into slow motion; there’s someone behind you. 

You twist around so fast that your sunbed almost tips over with the force of your body against it, knees tucked up and eyes pinned open wide. The weight of adrenaline in your veins blinds you to the sight, it takes a few seconds before you realise that it’s him, and fear for your life can subside. Well, marginally. 

He can’t help but laugh at the frantic way you turned, all reflex as evident in its clumsiness, he should have said something, but hindsight is 20/20. 

With your chest still heaving, you try desperately to calm yourself down, “William?!” You say, with no real thought as to why. And at the predatory grin on his face you remember how little you're wearing, your skimpiest bikini, all straps and little substance so you can pick up as much sun as possible. You regret that now, especially with how blatantly his gaze is on your cleavage. “How uh did you get in?” You think the question as you ask it, concern making your brows raise. 

Finally managing to bring his gaze to your eyes, the sly expression on his face doesn’t budge an inch. “Door was unlocked.” His words are nonchalant and you nod, wishing you had a towel on hand to cover up with. Your dad was a bugger for leaving the door unlocked, case proven that any fucker could just walk in. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, my fence hopping days are long over.” 

You give him a small smile, though you’re not entirely convinced, with how persistent he’s been with you so far you don’t doubt he’d break and enter for another taste; and that thought makes your stomach flutter. 

“So… what are you doing?” Your voice is small, pinched with nerves, his stature over you right now is insanely intimidating, so tall you swear he could pick you up and toss you around like a dolly. 

“Just enjoying the view, it’s a lovely day.” He makes a point of looking you up and down, leaving you no question as to what view he’s referring to. You’re art, the way you’re propped up on your arms, nipples peeking through the tiny bikini top, your legs shiny in the sun pressed together to hide the part of you that sings to him. 

You look up at him shyly, uncertainly saying, “Yeah it is-” Your words go dry in your mouth when William’s hand come to your leg, a firm grip on your ankle that traces up more gently over your calf. You shiver at the touch. 

“This isn’t… My dad will be home soon.” You start trying to explain why him coming onto you right now wasn’t a good idea, but when your core is fluttering from his touch it’s pretty persuasive. 

“That is such a shame.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, the false sadness practically tangible. As he speaks, he catches your ankles, lifting them so he can sit at the bottom of the sun bed, where he lets your legs lay over him, resuming grazing over your skin. “And here I was hoping to spend some time with you. It’s just a terrible set of circumstances, isn’t it?” He continues equally as mockingly and you can’t help but giggle. It’s manipulative, you think, how insistent this man can be without seeming too pushy, he has you wrapped around his finger when if anything it should be the other way around. 

“”But what if-” You start, but he cuts you off like he can read your mind. 

“We’d hear the car.” He offers, it’s flimsy but you’re willing to hang on to anything that would allow his hand to travel further up your leg, closer to where you need him. 

You murmur a quiet ‘okay’ and the moment it leaves your lips it’s replaced by the older man’s tongue, his body coming easily over yours and taking you away from the heat of the sun. He wants to be patient with you, slow and deliberate but it's hard when your skin is so soft under his fingers and you’re so receptive to the quick progression of this kiss. And it is quick, the way he invades your mouth is rough and dirty, making your back curve off the sunbed into him. 

It’s scary how much you want it, you can’t help it, pulling at his shirt, digging your fingers into his shoulders, spurring him to slide his hand between your legs. The spark is instant, electric pleasure throughout your body, it’s easy for him but your heart is pounding. You melt into it, that perfect way he finds rhythm on your clit, stoking that insatiable pressure in your core. It builds quickly, a slippery flame on a mountain of kindling, leaving you squirming under him as he moves away from your lips and begins sucking a sequence of kisses down your neck. 

The angle of his ministrations change, a finger trailing down through your folds and resting firmly on your entrance. You jolt, a short whine escaping your lips. Something close to dread seizes hold of you, you’ve never done that before, never had anyone inside of you and it makes you nervous. Doubly so, when you consider how easy it is for him to have you spiralling. 

“I need to feel how tight you are, lovely.” William speaks against your skin, causing goosebumps to prickle across your body, “You gonna let me?” He’s asking but teasing your hole already, your wet heat is just begging for him to slip inside, you know it, he knows it, and so despite the nerves you nod, rolling your hips slightly and resuming his stimulation on your clit yourself. 

He’s nice enough to press a single finger in first, slowly at that, letting you adjust to the feeling and waiting until your body relaxes a little before he moves. It’s nothing, but the way you’re clinging on to him says otherwise, scared but not willing to let go of your end that’s still rearing despite the intrusion. 

“Such a sweet thing.” He coos besides your ear, distracting you from the second long finger which joins in. It doesn’t hurt but it’s strange and you can’t help but gasp. His name flees your lips in a desperate way and he hums an answer against your skin, not that you had a question to begin with. You just can’t think straight, not with the pace of pushing his digits in and out and the rhythm on your nerves that has your climax tightening its fist around you immediately. 

You lose control, shuddering as you cum, the new sensation of having something to clench around making a moan tear through you. It’s hot the way you’re so desperate for him, the most basic of things making you lose your mind, and William tries not to think about how perfect that little cunt is going to feel around his cock, squeezing around him like you are his fingers right now. Eager. Pliant. Fragile.

William pulls out of you and as you begin to regain your senses you realise that you hate how pathetic you are. Only taking because you don’t have the agency to give anything yourself, it’s embarrassing. You want, need to make him feel good. 

“I- I want…” You try to speak coherently, but it's a struggle you’re still reeling from your climax, lost in the after waves mulling over you, making your pussy clamp around nothing, impatient with the urge to feel his fingers again, maybe more. He completely scrambles your brain every time and it’s not fair because you can’t seem to do the same, but you want to try. The night outside your house springs to mind, he had seemed so addicted then, like he needed your touch to survive, exactly how you feel right now.  

William hums some acknowledgement into the crook of your neck, slick with saliva from his assault there, he doesn’t stop the way you’re squirming has his cock throbbing and he has half a mind to make you cum again for his own gratification. 

You try again, forcing the thought out of you, “I want you in my mouth.” You manage, though it’s quiet and your face burns with the words. He blatantly laughs, partially in surprise, before shifting his frame to look at you. 

“What?” He knows what you said, he just wants to hear it again. 

You keep your eyes away from his, forcing yourself to commit to the idea even when you can’t imagine doing it. “Can I suck your cock?” The second you ask it in that sweet voice of yours he could have bust, so cute, so eager to please. 

“Course you fucking can.” There’s a hint of disbelief to his voice that you pride yourself on, you want to be able to surprise him , even though it scares you a little. William moves, standing up, leaving you to sit on the sunbed at the perfect height to be confronted by the arrogant bulge in his trousers. His cock is weeping, desperately hard in that way that you always manage to make him, intentionally or not. Your lip is between your teeth as you watch him reach for his belt, a pang ringing through your core when you think about how big his hands are and what they were doing to you moments ago.

He frees himself, stroking his dick at the sight of you and your obvious nerves. “You know what you’re doing, sweet girl?” He asks you with a wicked grin, god something about you just looking at his cock drives him fucking mad. 

“Not really.” You say shakily, resenting the need to be honest. 

He chuckles again, your innocence amuses him, “Come here.” 

You obey, sitting forward and lifting your hands to take a hold of his cock, it gives you a thrill to touch him, to hear his breath change at your action. So you stroke him eagerly until you have the courage to bring your head closer, his hand instantly cupping the back of your head. He guides your lips to his cockhead, sniggering as he taps his tip against your mouth, some of his precum coating your chin. 

You take the initiative to open your mouth and hesitantly stick out your tongue to taste him. It surprises you that it’s not unpleasant and so you settle into it, swirling your tongue around him before parting your lips enough to take his tip, lightly sucking on him. 

He groans, “That’s it, baby. Use your hands.” You obey, resuming stroking him whilst toying with the most sensitive part of his cock. He knows you’re not trying to tease him but fuck, his knuckles are white at the back of your head with the effort not to bury himself down your throat and use you like the little doll you are. 

The grip in your hair hurts a fair bit but it has you tingling and spurs you to try harder, hollowing your cheeks as you attempt to take more of him, you only half succeed, unable to cope when his cock digs into the back of your throat. He moans when your throat spasms around him, the fluttering making his need to cum very apparent. 

William begins to guide your movements a little, battling with the selfish need to fuck to completion and you whine unintelligible protest. It’s a lot to get used to and your panicked eyes say it all when you glance up at him. 

“Fuck.” He hisses when he meets your gaze, his voice hoarse with arousal, “You can do it. Just like that- gonna make me fucking-” You recognise the inability to get out a complete sentence and your pride makes the tears in your eyes worth it. Your thoughts are lewd, you want him to cum, want it in your mouth, you want to taste it. Want to swallow it because you know it’ll please him. 

But it’s cut short at the crisp sound of a car door slamming shut. The hawk like turn of William’s head confirms it, your dad is back, that absolute piece of fuckin- He lets go of you, rushing to right himself as you did the same, moving swiftly across the garden to grab the towel you left by the door. 

You sit back on your sunbed, praying that you don’t look as shattered as William, who’s left high and dry, forced to leave his shirt untucked with the meagre hope that it’ll obscure his raging erection. 

“Fucking hell.” He curses under his breath. He’d laugh if his cock wasn’t throbbing. 

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, the sound of the front door closing cutting through the empty house. Clearly you dad wanted to be heard, whereas William previously hadn’t. 

“It’s not your fault.” He smirks a little, thinking about how pathetic this situation is. He takes a seat beside you, leaving the respectable amount of distance a middle-aged man should leave his friend’s daughter, whilst trying to think of an explanation for his presence here. 

Your father wastes no time in moving through the house looking for you, his calling yielded no response so he heads to the back garden. Emerging from the door, already speaking, “Hey, y/n. I’m back from- William? Didn’t expect to see you here…” The confusion in your dad’s voice is evident, he’s smiling but his eyes are narrow as he assesses the sight before him. 

You smile at your dad as best you can, glancing at William when he starts speaking, a crack in his confidence that you hope only you notice. “Chris. I was just after dropping off the socket wrench you leant me, I left it in the kitchen.” 

Your dad turns to look back towards the house and you jump in, an idea of an excuse coming to mind. “I was telling him about my book,” Suddenly you’re holding it, as if you were all along and William grins, what a good girl you are. “It’s getting really good, I was probably talking his ear off.” You cross your fingers that your sweet demeanour is enough to settle your dad’s obliviousness.

“No, it does sound good. I’ll have to borrow it.” He manages to deliver it in such a way that it sounds like he’s humouring you, being polite to a young lass’s rambling, it’s sold and your dad bought it. 

“Oh right.” Your dad agrees, smiling at his good daughter who’s so well-mannered and respectful to everyone, he’s proud of you. But so is William. “You want to stay for a cuppa?” He asks his friend and William grins at the fact that your dad isn’t the only mug in the house. 

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” 

He nods, turning to you, “Want one, sweetie?” 

“Uh yes, please.” With a word of understanding, your father heads back in the house to sort the tea out, the very moment his back is turned William leans close to you. 

“Aren’t you a good liar?” He chuckles his voice playfully dark, you smile but look down. You never used to be a good liar, that must be something this has cultivated. That he has cultivated. Still close to you, William speaks low and full of twisted intention, “Finish it, sweetheart.” 

You look at him confused but it quickly dawns on you what he means. “Don’t be crazy, my dad is-” 

He cuts off your sensible reasoning, with some of his own, “It won’t take long. Just with your hand, come on.” There’s an immature glee in his eyes as he takes your hand and quickly undoes his belt with the other, you don’t resist, in fact you’re brimming with excitement. This is so stupid, so dangerous, there’s no lying your way out of your hand in his trousers, maybe that’s what makes it sweeter when he places your hand on his cock. 

You stroke him quickly, your head is on a swivel between the mouth-watering sight of William tilting his head back in pleasure and the door where you’re willing your dad not to appear. There’s no finesse in it, it’s almost frantic, your hand sliding up and down his cock at a fast pace, trying to push him over the edge as quickly as possible. He’s close, all this fucking around has him begging to finish, its almost unpleasant how much he needs to cum and it shows in the near scowl on his face as you get him closer and closer. 

“Shit.” He curses, and you catch the tensing of his body as he finally touches his peak, ridgid as he can’t help but meet your fist as he cums. He spills in your hand, it’s ill thought out some of his release lands in the grass at his feet, but most on himself or trickling down the back of your hand onto the sunbed beneath. Messy and desperate, but he hardly notices through the overwhelming relief. 

You breathe out loudly, realising that you’ve been holding your breath for a fair while in anticipation, you’re almost giddy with excitement. He seems to finally notice the mess because he laughs, reaching for the towel around your body and using a corner of it to try to clean up. It looks pretty fucking bad, but it’ll have to surfice. 

You wait nervously for him to be done so you can also use it to wipe your hands, he recognises what you’re wanting to do but he has a different idea. He snatches your wrist and brings it to his mouth in a pretty startling way, he’s strong enough that you have no say in the matter, and can only watch as he licks his own release off the back of your hand. He sniggers into the action at the look on your face, near horrified, so sexually inept. It makes him want to do the most depraved things just to see that wide-eyed look. It’s gross, you think, to taste himself on your fingers like that, screwed up even, but you can’t deny the way you’re squirming, rubbing your legs together just to feel a sliver of stimulation. 

He’s well on his way to ruining you. 

[wingwaver]

A few tips for new Tumblr users wanting to write here

Yo if you're here from Reddit or Twitter or some other site and just wanted to give this a shot you may have seen some blogs that are dedicated to writing headcanons or short fics or even original works for their own OCs and you may be thinking "hey I wanna give that a shot! I like to write!" then I have some tips to make it easier on you and people who see your content.

1. First off, if you're writing a pretty long piece the you should probably put it under a read more, it'll look like this on mobile

and this on desktop

or you can write :readmore: on a line by itself and press enter.

2. Now if you're gonna write for a whole bunch of different fandoms and you wanna make a master list then I suggest making an actual list with the fandoms you write for and then making more lists with the actual content as a you go along because you can only have 100 links in one post (I know that sounds like a lot but as someone who has around 300 Transformers things written trust me you fill up a post quicker than you expect, especially if you take requests from other people). The way I typically do it is like this

The first pic is the MASTER master list that lists everything I write for and when they're underlined like that it means they're links. The second pic is after clicking the G1 link, it's a separate post that has the actual fics and headcanon links. Note the 6/100 in the tags, this is how I keep up with how many things I've added. You can of course just use the numbers options from here

or just number them manually from your keyboard like I'm doing with this post. Adding links has no barring on what else you add to the post so you can add yourself some fancy header or divider pics if you want.

3. Adding links! Links can look like this https://www.tumblr.com/wingwaver/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons?source=share or like this https://wingwaver.tumblr.com/post/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons depending on whether you're linking from mobile or desktop/browser Just highlight the text you wanna add a link to and a the little chain will move to the end, click it and paste your url you want to link to and press add link, then press post/save draft/save (whatever the blue button says)

Now you've successfully linked a post to another post!

4. Tagging! To get your fics and headcanons seen to build an audience you usually wanna tag the stuff correctly. If you're posting a fic about Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney then you'll tag it with #Ace Attorney, #Miles Edgeworth, and #Phoenix Wright in the tags area. But it's also a good idea to mention if it's a ship or general fic in the tags too. If so then putting ship names and #Miles Edgeworth x Phoenix Wright and #Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright in the tags will help everyone know this is a ship fic. Tagging with characters or fandoms that aren't apart of the fic just clogs the tags for people looking for content of said characters and fandoms so it's very looked down on here and will likely get some of your stuff reported for spam so only use the relevant tags. Also tagging for triggers can be tricky here because of how fucky tumblr is but please don't tag censor tags. Tagging things like #a**** or #a*use or even #abu$e doesn't work here because people who have #abuse blacklisted will be able to see this content because it wasn't tagged properly. Also if you're writing for OCs or reader inserts it's common courtesy to tag those appropriately too. Someone looking for a reader insert may not want to read an OC and vice versa. Also many people filter those out so try to add tags like #x reader, #*fandom name* x reader, and #*character name* x reader for easier filtering. Also people cruise those tags too so it'll help people who fo want to read that content find your stuff!

[britcision]

AND NOW: Part Two! One might think I would look at the fic at some point and check what chapter we’re on, but I will not! Mostly for “but that takes effort” reasons but also because by the time I get back here I WILL have forgotten!

Part One of this chapter:

First Chapter:

———————

Well You Did Get Down On One Knee (part 2)

Tucker, Conner, and Tim had actually gotten through another round of Spiderheck in between the rabid buzzing of Tim and Tucker’s phones. 

Conner had the good sense to mute his and toss it behind the couch… after sharing the “good news” of Timblr with the Young Justice chat. Without which his phone probably wouldn’t have been buzzing at all.

He regretted nothing, despite Tim’s alternate pouting and threats. Tucker was pretty impressed, and pretty sure that it wasn’t just for the guy’s good looks this time. 

Finally, after the fourth time Tim’s ringtone changed itself and blasted at full volume (making Tucker completely drop his controller), the Black tech gave up, sighing heartily and dropping his head into his hands. 

Not least to hide the sudden wicked grin on his face as an idea struck. Because yeah, sure, he could help Tim try and unhack fucking Oracle on the sly, or… they could remove the distraction another way. 

(Tucker wasn’t a thousand percent ungrateful for the distraction; he was pretty sure even without the merry buzzing of his social life burning down around him he’d have had a hard time concentrating on the game. 

It just plain wasn’t fair; Conner was too fucking hot, and so earnest, and excited when he was doing well! All the little shouts and exclamations, the broad grins, Tucker was really beginning to doubt his own demisexual nature. 

Although, to be fair, it wasn’t like he actually wanted to… interact while Conner was being cuter than Cujo with a rubber bone. Just. It was hard to think about anything else when he could be appreciating all… that instead. 

At least while Tim’s ass was being blown off by at least three separate group chats, Tucker’s floundering was less embarrassing.) 

Tim gave him a consoling pat on the back while Conner whooped in victory, probably trying to comfort Tucker in the loss. Tucker let him for a moment, running a couple quick calculations in his head. 

Because yeah, he’d never got around to asking Danny to ecto infuse any of the Waynes’ tech; not the batcomputer nor the gaming consoles, but. Well. They’d played for hours the last two nights, and it wasn’t like Tucker had never gotten his hands through a console’s innards. 

It had to count as knowing the device, right? 

And it wasn’t like it was that hard, doing it for just three people. For just one game. 

Looking up at the other two, he gave them both a slightly shyer grin. 

“So, like… I know we’re having a good time and all,” he began, and Tim groaned theatrically as he was interrupted yet again by his ringtone. 

“I’m about to ask Superboy to toss this thing into space,” he grumbled, glowering at his phone. 

Conner reached innocently towards it and Tim snatched it back up immediately. Tucker settled back once it was safe too, grinning sheepishly even if it wasn���t his bluff Conner called. 

Conner tipped him a wink and Tucker had to clear his throat and give his head a quick shake to clear his blush. 

“Right… yeah, uh, anyway. What if I had a better way to get us away from distractions?” He asked as innocently as he could, staring at the screen instead of that far too attractive face. 

He could still see the other two sit up from the corner of his eye, both looking interested. 

“We’re not allowed to game in the Bat Cave,” Tim said quickly, with a resigned air that said the question had come up before… and enough disappointment that they’d probably done it and been caught. 

Which, yeah, thinking of the size of the screen in the cave, Tucker suddenly really wanted to try that too. 

Already banned though. And he and Danny were already on thin enough ice with Batman as it was. 

Reluctantly dismissing the thought, he returned his attention to the present moment, grin spreading as he turned to face Tim directly. 

(Tim was safe. Tim was, objectively, a very handsome young man and Tucker could appreciate that in a distant way, but being pretty was just so much less interesting that almost anything else about Tim. 

Tucker could worship him through a distant computer screen, so the pretty blue eyes weren’t much of a distraction. Looking at Tim face to face was really cool, but Tucker would be more tongue tied watching him code.) 

“Sure, but you remember I told you about my technopathy? I can interface with machines I know really well,” he added for Conner’s benefit, accidentally looking over in time to preen as his face lit up with interest. 

Tim, for some reason, stifled a snicker. 

“Yeah, you mentioned. And that it was a little more complicated, but go on,” he prodded, and Conner shot him a look that Tucker was gonna have to ask questions about. 

Later. Once he was done showing off a little. And, probably, getting his ass kicked at Spiderheck. 

Tucker Foley was a master of video game controls, sure, and that sorta helped, as did “knowing you’ve been thrust into a video game”. He just didn’t delude himself into thinking it’d be enough to counter the actual literal battle training of superheroes. 

But hey, maybe having all those extra legs would fuck them both up for long enough that he’d win a few rounds. 

“Well I think you might’ve already noticed, but I know this game really well.” 

** 

Danny was doing his best to keep a cheerful face on things, especially the weird shit. 

It had been a while since he’d had a nasty new halfa surprise of his own crop up (although he didn’t dare hope he’d had his last; that would surely bring something on), but he still remembered how it felt. 

How overwhelming, how hollow and intimidating the world could be when you were learning that you really knew almost nothing about yourself. That at any time, your body could do something totally out of your control. 

Something you might not be able to handle. 

He’d felt the fear in Jason, deep and bright and smothered a second later, but not before Danny felt it. 

At least he could be here for the other guy; he wasn’t going to be going into the whole mess alone. Danny would make sure of that. Understandable as his reservations about reliving his death were, they would face it together, and he had to hope that might help. 

Possibly with Jazz too, when it was actually time for that first transformation. Danny hadn’t even really started coping with dying when he’d first changed, and he’d been dead less than a minute; it had almost been part of the rebirth process. By the time he’d had to do it for a fight, he already knew what would happen.

For Jason… well, it had been a while, and even Danny could see he’d not done much more than paper over the cracks with bad ecto induced rage and carry on. 

He was trying not to let Jason see how much he worried, but had a feeling it didn’t matter. Jason was plenty worried already. 

Good news was… well, there wasn’t much good news. It was going to suck, no matter what, and if they didn’t do it in controlled conditions it’d be fucking awful. 

But they did have some controlled conditions, and better yet? Probably wouldn’t be a problem for at least a couple more days. 

As little as Danny wanted to talk about the whole… mess that was Jason’s death, Jason himself was all about the detailed planning. Back ups of back ups and all that. 

It probably came with the Batman training. 

(The mad compartmentalising totally did. Danny had spent enough time with Bruce in one single car ride to be sure about that.) 

For the moment, he gave Jason as much support he could; contact, a reassuring aura, and a smile whenever he could, and absolutely no oogling of his mostly naked body while they were doing the checkup. 

(Jason had mentioned a pit-related growth spurt last time, and this close Danny could see that the scars all over him were interspersed with stretch marks. Now that he actually looked the difference was super obvious; the different colour, the creasing where they indented the skin. 

Danny definitely wasn’t thinking of licking them to see if he could feel the texture. 

Or running his fingers over bared skin, which was admittedly less intimate than the licking thoughts he totally wasn’t having, but also seemed kinda more a betrayal. Because Jason wouldn’t question Danny touching him, but Danny would have Nefarious Motives. 

Of. Textures. 

But it was totally fine because he wasn’t having any of those thoughts at all.)  

He just wished he knew what had caused that sudden panic attack Jason had earlier; it had come almost from nowhere, a wave of black and crushing dread that froze Danny’s already-iced core. It filled the room, filled his lungs, and would have cost him everything to not respond. 

Part of him had wanted to shove Jason fully inside himself, store the much larger man in the hollow of his chest so that nothing could hurt him. 

(And Danny could, technically, kinda do that. Jason didn’t have to be that much bigger than him, at least while Danny was in ghost form. Ghost form was all about self perception and, well, raw power. 

Looking like his twink ass self was a deliberate choice, and one he’d never regretted until it meant not curling Jason into the infinite curls of his tail and protecting himself from the universe as a whole.) 

Danny was super great at boundaries. Yup. One thousand percent completely normal about them. 

But he’d been able to wrap his aura around Jason anyway, because that wasn’t a freakishly massive monster form that would freak him out further. They’d helped him calm down, helped him breathe, and Jason seemed… 

Way too fine, frankly, even his aura had cleared, and Danny trusted that about as far as Sam could throw him. Bat-level compartmentalizing, for sure. 

That was gonna get real weird when the more emotionally regulated ghost powers kicked in, but Danny was gonna cross his fingers and hope that it made Jason’s transition easier, not infinitely more fucked up. Jazz would be intolerable, for one thing. 

Most of the rest of the appointment went well anyway; bar the surprise “Congratulations On Your Soul Bond” news (which he would not be thinking about too hard until he couldn’t possibly avoid it), it was pretty much what they’d expected. 

Jason was doing good, Danny was gonna need to work around classes tomorrow maybe for another trip, and there was just the teeniest chance Jason’s fully formed core would manifest like, physically. 

Shockwaves had been mentioned. Danny now had questions about how much of his original death light show had been the portal itself opening. Ones that could never be answered, but hey. 

If/when Clockwork showed up, Danny was gonna prioritise Jason’s soul contract over his own curiosity for purely friend related reasons. 

Danny didn’t like soul contracts of any sort at the best of times, unwritten ones that put a friend into his service? Yeah, maybe he was feeling just a little vindicated that Jason could see what he’d been freaking out about now. 

Now that it was too late, but Danny was technically the Ghost King and Clockwork’s boss, so even if he couldn’t fix the whole mess until his coronation, it wasn’t gonna be a problem-problem. 

If Clockwork tried to use the contract to push Danny into accepting his coronation more quickly, well, Danny had a real good win streak of fighting ancients in his pocket. And he’d double never get coronated if they spent the rest of eternity playing cat and mouse for Danny to beat Clockwork’s ass, so. 

Not that Danny believed Clockwork would, really. The Observants? Abso-fucking-lutely, he’d be swinging before they finished a sentence, but Clockwork genuinely seemed to care. 

He pruned the timelines with the ruthless efficiency of a gardener, but always to make the best outcome. The one where the least people got fucked over. 

He’d absolutely fuck Danny over in the service of getting that best outcome, but Danny was also pretty sure he’d feel bad about it if he did, and that Clockwork would and had chosen to believe in him over his predicted outcomes more than once. 

Danny trusted Clockwork. 

Of course, now that he wasn’t trying to hide and actually wanted to see his mentor and regent, the bastard was nowhere to be found. 

All jokes about the “Ever-Moving Now” aside, they weren’t directly making for Clockwork’s tower; the only way to find it was with Clockwork’s permission, so Danny didn’t usually bother. As a kid they’d thought they could stumble across it and surprise him, but these days? 

Danny knew better. And Clockwork wasn’t exactly subtle; his lair had showed up around the very first metaphorical corner when he wanted Danny to come in once too often. And hadn’t been anywhere to be found when Danny searched, only to show up beside his fucking portal home. 

Where it definitely hadn’t been on his way in. 

It went where Clockwork wanted it, when he wanted it there. Danny totally wasn’t jealous. 

It had been a while since he’d bothered hiding from Danny though; these past couple months, just being in the Zone had netted him an unwanted visit from his regent. Danny was beginning to suspect Clockwork wasn’t actually all that keen on ruling the realms, and was just planning to fob the job off on him. 

Which, y’know, fair. Danny wasn’t exactly thrilled with it either. But it was his job as Danny’s mentor to protect him from this shit, right? 

Now that Danny actually wanted to see him though, of course he wasn’t around. Which probably wasn’t actually a bad sign, or that he’d done something he didn’t want them to know about. 

Clockwork was just a cryptic asshole, and apparently Jason had used up all of his “getting clear answers” cards in their first meeting. If only Danny had ever gotten a single damn one. 

There was one other detour Danny wanted to make while in the Realms, but… today didn’t feel like quite the right time. Jason had already had a fucking day of it, and Danny didn’t wanna dump any more on him. Even if Ghost Writer’s library would be a nice trip for Jason, it was something they should talk about first.

And… probably ask Ghost Writer about first too.

If Danny ever remembered to do that.

So they’d thanked Frostbite, gotten Jason a bag of ecto ice chips (Danny wasn’t allowed any, it was totally unfair because he needed an energy boost too! But noooo, his core was “stabilised” and “complete” and he needed to “sleep” and “eat” for energy like a pleb. Unfair!), and agreed to come back as soon as Jason’s core stabilised. 

Danny figured he could always come back on his own for a visit to Nocturn. That was gonna be a whole ass emotional mess; Dan was technically in the database Tucker had handed over, but Jason hadn’t mentioned it yet. Danny didn’t know if that meant he didn’t know, or was just being actually tactful. 

He wasn’t even sure what he actually wanted to say yet, how to ask for what he wanted, and he should probably do this right. Nocturn hadn’t challenged him again since he’d become king, and had actually been super helpful so far, but… well, the spirit of dreams was proud, powerful, and Danny was pretty sure he helped specifically to have something on Danny. He’d already decided that his main job tonight was to help Jason relax, feel better, and work out if he needed to sicc the Sam-Tucker combo on Bruce Wayne’s social media. 

… 

Who was he kidding. Of course they’d be setting Sam and Tucker on the guy, as soon as Jason gave the green light. 

Jason had never exactly gotten all the way through the explicit details of how Bruce had fucked up this afternoon, beyond just siccing Constantine on Jason, but honestly? 

He didn’t have to. Jason had been almost tangibly frustrated from the minute he rolled up to Danny’s dorms, though he was gonna shoot Tucker a thank you for his little “revenge”, since it had cheered the guy up right away. 

Danny was totally not considering a little spectral revenge for himself too. Mostly because Batman would probably know all about ghosts by now, and probably had Constantine doing his spectral condom act all over the cave. 

But it wasn’t like Bruce liked Danny anyway, so really, what did he have to lose? Not like Jason hadn’t already shown whose side he came out on on this one. 

Danny didn’t exactly know what having over protective parents was like, but Jason could not be more clear that he didn’t appreciate Bruce’s interference. There was clearly a lot going on with those two, and while they’d already talked about Jason’s death and technically he had permission… 

Well, Danny didn’t wanna push. Ask literally any ghost, dying could leave you with a whole stack of issues. Jason wasn’t even close to the most homicidal Danny had met. 

That poisonous rage, though… Danny pushed it from his mind. It didn’t matter, wouldn’t matter, Frostbite said Jason was doing well and Pitty would be out of him soon. 

… 

Maybe, just maybe Danny was also starting to worry what that might mean, since it sent Jason into a full panic attack and he’d seen what the rage was like when fully under control. 

Maybe they’d bump up the schedule on taking care of those Lazarus pits. Get that Obsession dealt with, see if it calmed things down. 

Yet another thing Danny would have to talk to Clockwork about, and was his irritatingly omnipresent mentor anywhere to be found? Of course not. 

Which probably meant this wasn’t a timeline threatening problem. Yet.

What a comfort. 

Which left them flying home through the Zone, and Danny totally wasn’t overthinking literally everything. He was being considerate, quiet, giving Jason time to process everything they’d seen that day. 

Maybe himself too. Just a little. But it wasn’t like Jason was hurrying to start a conversation, and they both had a lot on their minds. It was a good, comfortable silence. 

They had nearly reached his preferred portal spot too, so today’s quick trip to the Ghost Zone was nearly over, unless Danny actually wanted to go Clockwork-hunting… which, while probably less emotionally fraught, wasn’t likely to go great. 

(Realms geography could be more than just hinky; they were infinite after all, so he tended to open portals back out in the same place he’d previously opened a portal from the living world in. It seemed to help, and he didn’t usually wind up in the wrong dimension that way. 

Especially if there was a nearby, powerful anchor.

Going searching up and down the whole ass Zone for the Ever Moving Now? Yeah, that’d fuck his portal plans right up.) 

Danny could feel a steady building trepidation rising in Jason like the tide, but he had no idea what the hell to do about it. Back there in the world were Bruce and Constantine, and all the problems that kept Jason balanced precariously on a knife edge. 

Here in the Realms, all the problems were new and interesting and could almost all be solved by punching, which really suited both of them. Danny would have been tempted to suggest that sidebar to see Ghost Writer, but it was late, he had school in the morning, and his super handy time manipulating mentor was being a dick and wasn’t here. 

A couple years ago, he’d have said fuck it and gone on the sidebar anyway, and probably not slept all night to help his friend. And had Jazz harping in his ear about “developing bodies”, “needing his sleep”, and “this is why you haven’t had a growth spurt since you were fourteen”. 

Which totally wasn’t a valid argument or at all what had made him start taking care of himself. He just… well, he just actually really fucking liked his classes these days. 

Against all the odds, Danny Fenton had gotten into a prestigious college, into an engineering program that actually let him stretch his talents. And take apart old or broken lab equipment from the other buildings for fun and profit. 

And if he hadn’t slept the night before, they didn’t let him use the welding torch. Danny was pretty sure Clockwork might be behind that, since they somehow always knew. 

Maybe that was how Nocturn was already betraying him… conspiring with Clockwork to make Danny sleep more and absorb his power? 

Danny considered that seriously for about half a second before discarding it. Sure, Nocturn was the King of Sleep and an ancient, but he was also a canny motherfucker and not likely to mess up badly enough to accidentally become King of the Infinite Realms too. 

For all that he wanted power, fucking no one wanted to deal with the Observants. Danny had practically begged. 

It wasn’t like they had to go back to Gotham and then immediately straight to bed though. Just, y’know, something that wouldn’t take hours and hours. There had to be something they could do in the city that wouldn’t keep them up all night, but would keep Bruce Wayne off their asses. 

Unless Jason had shit to do. Danny… kinda hadn’t asked. The only plans he’d known about for the day was busting out Waylon, and then the potential trip to Frostbite. 

Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to go so late? Maybe Danny should ask? 

Maybe Jason was getting sick of him. 

Maybe Jason was getting a little too good at reading auras, since that thought barely settled in before he broke the silence. 

“What the fuck?” 

And alright, that might also have been a coincidence Danny decided, brows furrowing as he looked for what had caught Jason’s attention. 

It all looked normal up ahead to him. Bright green zone, a couple purple islands (was that the ghost of a Bat Burger? Maybe they should check this place out more), the haze of black smog that always surrounded… 

Ah. 

Yeah, they hadn’t really had that conversation yet, though Danny had meant to bring it up on the way home. Riiiight up until all that overthinking started.

Guess that made this introduction time. Sort of put a stop to wondering how to cheer Jason up… although depending on how Jason felt, it might just be a distraction. 

Danny pulled to a stop, Jason coming in close before stopping alongside him, just in front like he might need to protect Danny from something. 

Or like he overshot the stopping. Could be either, really. But Danny had a feeling it was at least a combo. He and Jason were just too alike, but it looked almost automatic. Vigilante training, and Danny’d bust his ass later about treating him like a civilian. 

Jason was the civilian here, and his citizen. 

He cleared his throat, wondering how exactly to go about this, since ghosts didn’t have an introduction protocol that wasn’t “throw down”. And spent about half a second wondering if that was actually on the table before deciding against it. 

Sure, most ghost introductions involved a friendly punch up, but Lady Gotham had always been a little different. And this wasn’t exactly your standard “new ghost who dis”. 

“Right, yeah… we didn’t see her last time we were in the Zone. Jason, this is-” 

“You think my own boy wouldn’t know me, Phantom?” 

The voice came from all around them, low and dark and smokey sweet like molten chocolate with just a hint of whiskey. Jason stiffened and glared around harder, conscious caution battling with the sudden wave of relief from his core. 

She spun herself from the smog of the city, like she always had. A tall, curvaceous woman built to Jack Fenton proportions, easily seven feet tall with dark mahogany skin and pitch black lipstick, perfect black hair coiled tight into an afro about her head. Smoky black makeup lined her eyes and caressed high, generous cheekbones in a line of clouds. 

Long black gloves covered her hands and arms, one of which was held across her body, hand cupping the elbow of her other arm while the other held what probably was a full sized orange traffic cone like it was a cigarette holder. It looked wrong clasped in her hand, scale thrown off by her size. A thin plume of white smoke even spiralled from the wider end. 

She wore a short flapper dress covered in layers of tassels, each of which flashed with beads of jet all along the length except for the last bead on a scattering of the strands, which were large, blood flecked pearls. Below the end of the skirt, her legs were lost in the spills of black smog surrounding her, though occasionally more flashes of pearl could be seen shifting through the murk. 

It was her eyes that captured all of the attention though as she caught and held Jason’s gaze, a sly smile on those black lips. They glowed yellow from lid to lid, each pupil shaped like a bat. 

The fight dropped out of Jason instantly, jaw dropping. 

And yeah, maybe Danny should have expected that he’d… sort of recognize her? Jason was a Gothamite to the core, had been one of her true defenders since pixie boots were in style… right up until his own death. 

And if Danny read that twitch right, it was costing him an effort not to automatically drop to one knee. So apparently that was just wired into him, and not just a Clockwork-thing. Good to know. 

Her smile spread, showing sharp white teeth dripping with tar. 

“My son,” she purred, her voice filling the air around them and sending almost visible ripples through the ectoplasm of the realms, “it is so good to finally meet you in person.” 

In front of Danny, Jason tensed again. Whatever he’d recognized didn’t quite cut through bat-paranoia, apparently. 

“Danny, who is this?” He asked cautiously, his voice low and not taking his eyes off the twin bat signals pointed at him. 

Lady Gotham sighed heavily, taking a deep pull on her traffic cone and blowing out a billowing plume of smog. She gestured to Danny, who nodded quickly. 

Totally not gonna “I told you so” the city spirit for the city he was living in. King or not, he had some manners. 

“Jason, Lady Gotham. She’s…” he hesitated, not sure how exactly to phrase it. 

Had they talked about city spirits? It felt like they had? But it had been so little time, he wasn’t sure. 

Lady Gotham stepped back in smoothly, shooting Jason a laconic smile and spreading her arms. 

“I am exactly what it sounds like. The beating heart of the city, born from the well of souls and desperate hopes of those who call it home. Every shadow in the alley, every gargoyle you shelter under, every parapet that caught your grapple and let you fly…” 

Jason had stopped breathing, which was alright as long as they were in the Zone but might not be later, his eyes tracking desperately over the ghost before them. Her smile softened, becoming fond, tender, her free hand now reaching out towards him. 

“… and you have been mine since the day you were born, Jason Todd.” 

** 

Jason was… 

Jason was. He didn’t know what he was. 

He hadn’t realised just how much noise his heart made thumping until the first time it stopped. Until he’d slammed back to life, heard its drumbeat thudding in his head, every second of every day. 

This felt a little like that. 

Like a sound he’d been hearing all of his life had gone quiet, and then come roaring back in full swing. It was too much, and not enough, and everything he’d missed in Nanda Parbat and around the world when he’d been training, left with only the thudding of his heart. 

The sounds of Gotham. Normal city noises, most of them; the honks and occasional screeches of cars, the buzz of people. And then the screams, gunshots, mad cackling laughter that most cities usually only saw in designated areas. 

And underneath it all, a low, throbbing pulse, a hum in the back of his head that meant he was home. That told him where he was, every street corner or shady alleyway. 

He could navigate the city blindfolded, knew every gargoyle, every running gutter and rusty grate, listening to that beat. That beat that told him it was his place, the one thing that nothing and no one could ever take away from him, not even all the bullshit with the League of Assassins. 

He hadn’t really noticed it going quiet in the Ghost Zone before. Which, y’know, they’d been busy. He’d had a lot on his mind, and… well, it happened any time he left the city. 

Going away with the Outsiders, it didn’t matter if they crossed the bay to Metropolis or went to space, Jason knew when he wasn’t in Gotham. Knew when he woke up in a hospital bed whether or not he was home just from that beat. 

He’d started thinking it might be the city’s ectoplasm, since Danny was so sure that was why he’d risen before. Might have explained why the Zone was a little different; it was all ectoplasm. 

And then he’d looked at this woman made of smog and shadows and smoking a fucking traffic cone, and the beat almost brought him to his knees. 

How could he not know her? They danced every night, her hand in his, guiding his guns, his grapple, cupped gently around the back of his neck and showing him where to look. Hiding him from Oracle’s cameras, pointing him at those who attacked the weak like he was the gun himself. 

Familiar as his own shadow. Constant as gravity. 

And it was that familiarity that pulled at every ounce of Bat training, that unconscious recognition and trust that forced him to doubt. 

Hypnotists were the fucking worst. Magic users were all annoying, but Jason would tangle with any of the rest before dealing with a hypnotist. They were worse than Condiment King and Kite Man combined into some ketchup splattered hell kite. 

And the more something deeper than the Pit whispered that this wasn’t hypnotism, wasn’t an outside influence, was just the deepest part of himself recognising the deepest part of his home, the harder he fought that feeling. 

Until her hand reached for his, and she said his name, and his hand was in hers before he could stop himself. 

Contact was… it was a lot. 

A barrage of sounds, smells, the backs of every alley flashing through his mind as he was bombarded with memories. Memories? Or was that what was happening now? 

Flashes of rooftops, bodies tensed in the shadows, goons working below in blissful ignorance that was about to be shattered. Breaking windows, sprays of bullets or gas or worse, moving and punching and taking down without killing. 

He caught sight of Cass for a brief moment, her shape outlined in glowing shadows that definitely weren’t visible to the men running past her hiding place. But of course they weren’t; that was the point. 

Cass was the perfect shadow anywhere on Earth, her stealth unparalleled by anything but actual magic, but in Gotham? In Gotham the darkness wrapped her in loving arms, held her close, made sure she was never found. 

His baby sister, Gotham’s child even if she’d never been to the city until she was nearly an adult. 

More flashes, Dick flying across an alley in Bludhaven (thankfully in his current suit, not the Discowing, which might mean this was the present? Or just that Jason had been seeing him so much more lately that there were just more memories of him like this?), and that made Jason pause. 

Bludhaven wasn’t Gotham. That was literally the point. That was why Dick lived there. 

And he heard her low chuckle, smoky and soft in his ear. 

*Just across the bay, my dear? No, he would have to go so much farther to be free of me, to stop being mine.*

The voice was warm and fond, soft like crushed velvet and so full of affection and pride it tugged at something in Jason’s core. 

Something from the little boy who’d watched Robin fly through the air and could barely believe he’d touched the same dream. 

Lady Gotham hadn’t moved, her hand still in his in the exact same position, and while he couldn’t see her past the images to know if she’d spoken with mouth or mind he had a feeling he knew. She was in his head, in his heart, and he’d not spoken aloud. 

Before Jason would work out how to reply, if he even wanted to reply, his attention was caught by something else in the cascade of images. 

A dark spot, not in every scene (at least not that he noticed), but often enough. Something that looked like a shadow, but just a fraction deeper than the rest, a fraction darker, that moved when all the shadows around it were still. 

Now that he looked for it he could see it everywhere, the sight of it sending a shiver up his spine that made his hair stand on end. It wasn’t fear; Jason was well acquainted with fear, as little as it bothered him. 

This was… tension, anticipation, recognition, the same thing he’d felt when there hadn’t been an Outsiders mission in a while and Roy had decided to hunt him for sport. Something, someone so familiar, with such a strong place in his life, someone he knew was damn capable, setting their sights on him. 

(It was always play when Roy did it, a game to keep them both on their toes and get a different kind of training in. Jason didn’t know if Roy ever hunted the others; asking felt like cheating somehow.) 

And then suddenly the shadow turned in a different way, its attention locking on to Jason in return and adrenaline shot through him like a bolt of lighting. 

It had to be live. Or the shadow knew when someone saw its image. But it had looked back, raising the hair on the back of his neck until it felt like he’d become a Studio Ghibli character, and it was still looking at him. 

His hands itched for his guns, the All-Blades, the Fright Gun, and he felt the large, hot hand still holding his tighten for just a second, felt Lady Gotham’s chuckle through his whole body like he was a speaker, and then he was looking at her face again, fond and smiling and larger than life. 

“Now now, my sons,” she purred softly, definitely speaking with her mouth this time even if it was just as warm as when he’d heard her in his head, “play nicely.” 

Had she been that tall before? She’d been taller than him, certainly, her hand completely enfolding his the way Bruce’s had when Jason had first come off the streets, but now she loomed almost twice as large. 

Still holding his hand in hers, only now his was positively dainty, a doll’s hand held by the child who adored it. Her thumb was almost the size of his whole hand, brushing gently over the back. 

She could probably snap him in half in an instant. 

He’d probably let her. 

Her smile spread, reacting to the thought, and her other huge hand came up to gently cup his face, all the pride and love he’d only ever seen from Catherine Todd before. 

“My brave little knight…” her eyes closed for a moment and she sucked in a deep breath, her whole body gently expanding as she savoured… something. Then those signal eyes opened and fixed on him, full of lazy satisfaction. “Your belief is so sweet.” 

The effect was somewhat spoiled by the traffic cone now pinched effortlessly between two fingers. It hadn’t changed size, which Jason supposed had to be his answer. 

She totally wasn’t that big before. And apparently it was his fault? His… belief? 

Danny was hovering in the more figurative, mother hen way now (literal not being optional at the moment), and Jason could feel his tension now that he was focused. He’d gotten closer, his aura putting him just behind Jason’s shoulder, but hadn’t gone further.  

Not moving between them, which he already had the feeling would have been Danny’s preference after the gala. Jason would tease him about that if he hadn’t already put himself between the stranger and Danny without thinking. At least Danny hadn’t actually done it. 

Whether that was because they weren’t in any danger or Danny was waiting for his go ahead didn’t actually matter; Jason couldn’t quite believe either of them would walk away from a fight with Lady Gotham no matter that Danny was the king. 

A part of him deeper than the pit knew that she would never fight him. That it was his job to fight for her, to make sure she never dirtied her hands more than the streets already did. 

Forcing himself to suck in a breath - and wondering why his lungs ached - Jason gave her hand a hesitant squeeze. Tried not to think about how ludicrously small his hand was tucked into the curl of her fingers. 

“Uh… I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…” he paused, words failing him, and wondered how the actual fuck you were supposed to talk to a whole ass city’s soul all at once. 

Lady Gotham laughed softly, giving his cheek (and consequently whole damn head) a gentle pat before pulling away, leaning back to sit as if in an invisible chair and regard him. 

“But we’ve known each other from the day you were born,” she agreed gently, her voice still heartbreakingly warm. 

No one had ever been so open in their love for him. It all but coloured the air in a rosy pink. 

And alright, that was probably at least 90% because his family were in constant contest for Most Emotionally Constipated Soul On Earth and Alfred was British, but Jason still had no idea how to handle it. He had her full, undivided attention, which part of him knew he’d never had in the physical city. 

She had so many protectors watching over her, even the crankiest parts of Jason couldn’t begrudge her that. He wasn’t exactly sure he was enjoying it now. 

“Ask,” she said softly, gently, the word still echoing around them but in a way that suddenly seemed more enclosed. More private. The echo of a bathroom instead of a grand cavern. 

Sucking in another deep breath, Jason realized he had about a thousand questions. But he had to start with the most pressing. 

“That shadow, what was it? It was… following the others, all of them. And you called it your son?” 

She’d called him her son too, and for the first time since he’d died the word didn’t rankle. But that could be the next question. 

The smile she gave him was blatantly approving and she waved a hand gently, a patch of smog in her surrounding cloud suddenly taking on a darker, more solid shape. It wasn’t the shadow itself, there was none of the buzzing adrenaline or life in its movements. Just a facsimile. 

He still kind of wanted the All-Blades. Just, y’know, for evil testing. 

“Yes, your… brother,” Lady Gotham said slowly, rolling the word over her lips as if tasting it. “That is the Curse of Gotham. Older than the city itself, technically, but before more people came it was simply a malevolence on a patch of land.” 

She waved a hand, dispelling the temporarily solidified smog easily. 

“It was only once the city was founded, then filled with souls and then despair and superstition and belief that he became a true Curse. As you are mine, the rogues are his. Bearing his mark, flying his flag, putting fear and doubt into every soul as they huddle against the chaos and swear to each other that there is a darkness here like no other.” 

Somehow, this did not endear Jason to his “brother”. It didn’t please Danny either, who leaned just a little into Jason’s shoulder, a sudden wariness pinging through his aura. 

“Wait, so the curse is older than you? Then why are you…” he trailed off, cheeks flushing suddenly as he asked what Jason was pretty sure was the least important question. 

Gotham bestowed him with a gentle, somewhat less fond smile too. Favouritism where he was the favourite kinda make Jason’s skin buzz. 

“As I said, it was the city which gave him form. Land can hold a myriad of curses, and any city built here would certainly have felt his affects. But belief…” she paused for a moment, lips pursing as she considered her next words. 

Yellow eyes flicked back towards Jason, measuring him, and her smile spread into something distinctly self satisfied. 

“Belief matters, for the Neverborn. It’s food and drink, our lifeblood, a source of power. And people believed in Gotham long before they made more than jokes about the curse. No one says that Gotham is on cursed land; they speak of Gotham’s Curse. And so he is mine.” 

Jason got the distinct impression that while everything was well established now, it had been more touch and go at one point… close enough that having won was still a point of pride. He didn’t even realize he was smiling back. 

It was also probably what she’d meant before… when she’d grown. His belief fed her. Which… kinda meant that him thinking they couldn’t possibly win a fight was a self fulfilling prophecy. 

Not quite sure if that was funny or worrying, Jason dismissed the thought and refocused. Some curse was still stalking his family after all, and probably him when he went back to the living world. 

“So if this Curse owns all the rogues… is he going to try and hurt the others?” He asked cautiously. Because if none of this was new, the Curse had been stalking them all since they put on the cowls. 

How many close calls… 

No. Jason hadn’t been in Gotham when Joker got him. He’d thought it was the arrogance of youth that had made him feel invulnerable in Gotham as a Robin, but now he knew there really had been hands hovering over him. 

Hands that hadn’t dropped him until he’d left the city. Half the world away and all alone, still sure he was invulnerable… right up until he wasn’t. 

He only realized his attention had been drifting when he snapped back, a large and achingly gentle thumb brushing his cheek. Now bigger than his head, still smelling of the smog of the city. 

Lady Gotham smiled gently, the dark bats in her eyes crinkling. 

“He is no danger to you,” she told him softly, focusing on the question that was asked. Not his wandering thoughts, though he got the feeling she knew anyway. 

Drawing back, she looked thoughtfully from him to Danny, taking another drag on her traffic cone, apparently thinking. Held the smogs in for a long moment, until she seemed to come to a conclusion and blew out a long stream. 

“The Curse makes the rogues; takes those already on the edge of something bad, and pushes them over. Turns the stagnation of despair into frantic, violent action. It is what he is, what he does… a lingering rot land deep, which feeds on the darkness and breeds more in the souls of Gotham’s inhabitants.” 

That definitely sounded like something dangerous to Jason, but who was he to interrupt Gotham herself? A sidelong glance made him wonder if she’d caught that thought too; just how well could she read him? 

She waved the smouldering traffic cone in his general direction, blanketing him in a wave of almost comforting black smog. 

“And yet, you notice, so few of the rogues seek to  permanently remove any of your heroes from the board?” 

Danny sucked in a sharp breath beside him, Jason’s heart clenched, but before either could protest, Lady Gotham gave a heavy sigh and inclined her head, smile slipping entirely for the first time. 

“The Joker is an unfortunate exception. There is… something worse there, deeper, darker, but I will explain later. For now, consider the others. So many who could, so many chances that they could have taken to kill each of you. I would not allow it, of course, yet even those who wish to see Batman permanently defeated rarely even try to end his life. It is not for no reason.” 

There was a true solemnity, almost pain in her face as she spoke of the Joker, eyes fixed on Jason and full of sorrow. Yet nothing in her aura, no push of regret-sadness or anything similar. Nothing to affect his own emotions, and Jason had the feeling that that was deliberate. 

As if she knew how much he hated being controlled, pushed around. Or she just… didn’t want to do that to him. It was tough to say, but he was also self aware enough to know he was puzzling that out rather than thinking much about her words. 

Of course the Joker was something worse than the fucking Curse of Gotham. Naturally. And y’know what else he was? 

Not Jason’s fucking problem right now. 

Lady Gotham had paused with him, waiting for his acknowledgment apparently, and Jason gave a stiff nod for her to continue. He’d asked the damn question. He needed to focus on the answer. 

A gentle incline of her head the only sign she’d seen anything at all, Lady Gotham continued. 

“The Curse will not harm your family, and nor do most of the rogues seek to actually remove you, because your family’s activities are integral to powering the Curse,” she said simply, and that snapped any fragments of Jason’s attention firmly back into place as he stiffened. 

Danny tensed beside him as well, still hanging back, but it was Jason who spoke. He didn’t need help on this one. 

“Wait, what? How the hell are we helping the Curse?!” He demanded, brows furrowing. 

If the Curse made the rogues by taking people on the edge and throwing them off, sure, that kinda made sense. Gotham had always been a cesspit of crime, but it used to be at least 85% less brightly spandex coloured before the Bat came along. 

Much as Jason didn’t think Bruce took his mission far enough, he could admit that at least the “normal” gang violence had died down significantly. For one thing, most of the old gangs had been driven out by the rogues, or absorbed by converts like Penguin and Black Mask. There wasn’t much space in Gotham these days for just run-of-the-mill crime. 

And Jason himself had gouged a chunk out of what was left, which he used to find extremely satisfying… but how would that help the Curse? Unless… the Curse had pushed that darkness in him…

Lady Gotham shook her head, that fond smile curling sadly at her lips as she reached down to gently tip his chin up with a massive finger. 

“No, my dear… you are not helping the Curse. He could no longer exist without you,” she explained softly, the dark and dusty smogs building heavily around them. Just seeing them made Jason’s throat itch… 

He clenched his jaw shut, focusing on her face instead. Waiting for that to make some fucking sense. 

Lady Gotham hummed thoughtfully, holding his chin a moment longer before releasing him, waving a hand vaguely through the smoggy air. 

“It is… contrast. There are no shadows without the light, no sweet without bitterness, no… no hope without despair. And no despair without hope.” She seemed pleased with the metaphor, bat signal eyes bright in suddenly building gloom. Which then fixed on him. 

“When people lose hope… when they give up on Gotham, accept the awfulness in their lives as mundane, it drains them of their will, their power to believe. If nothing fights the Curse, pushes back on the tides of corruption, then who’s to say there is a curse at all? Just mundane bad governance. Certainly nothing unique about that, in this world.” 

A hand cut through thick black clouds and Jason realized abruptly that he’d lost sight of everything but her eyes, shining in the darkness. And then the shadows spiralled in front of him, whipped by her fingers into a familiar black silhouette. 

“But the Bats… the birds, all of Gotham’s caped defenders? No other city in the world could fail to be safe under your constant attentions. No other city could take the stream of wealth and charity Bruce Wayne pours into it and be less than utopian. And yet Gotham remains, a far better city than the one you were born in, but still one of the most dangerous places to live in this country.” 

The shadowy bat began to glow, lined in a bright golden light, yet somehow it only made the surrounding shadows all the darker. It swished its cape, striking at invisible foes, and the clouds curled in around it. 

“What else but a curse could cause this? And what a powerful curse it must be, with a new vigilante showing every month, and still not a dent?” 

The blackness around them grew darker still, the bat’s glow suddenly seeming weak and fragile. Jason’s chest lurched, his heart screaming to reach out and catch the faltering figure, pull it close and keep it safe, but he stamped it down. 

It wasn’t Bruce in danger. It was just a light-show, a visual demonstration. And it sure as hell didn’t need his protection. 

And then a skewer of pure blackness plunged through its heart and the golden glow winked out, leaving them in pitch darkness. 

Jason’s heart clenched, a dread chill running down his spine and he spun around, searching for Lady Gotham and her searchlight eyes, but he couldn’t see anything. Not even Danny, who always glowed faintly in his ghost form. 

Still, her voice continued, completely calm and unshakeable. 

“If the symbol falls… if the Bat is broken, the Curse will gain a great deal of power for a day. Perhaps a generation. And then people will forget, and forget that they believed, and it will wane once again. A much worse loss, now that he knows the power he can have.” 

The billowing clouds of darkness pulled back and the glowing green of the Ghost Zone almost made Jason shield his eyes. They hadn’t moved, of course they hadn’t; Danny was still right beside him, his aura a heavy throb of new understanding-exasperated-mildly amuse.  

Which… well, yeah, now that he could breathe again Jason could admit it had all been pretty dramatic. If she was his first ghost, he’d have assumed it was just a Gotham thing, but Danny was also a dramatic little shit, so. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason blew it out slowly, calming the beating of his heart. Lady Gotham looked quite pleased with herself, still sat reclined a little ways away. 

It was one hell of a powerpoint, and he was pretty sure he’d got the gist of things. Not that it made any of this make sense, but it was pretty much what he’d expect from magic. 

“So… the Curse makes the rogues, to make people think the city is cursed, but it also wants to keep the vigilantes safe…” a phrase from an old book tugged at his mind, and Jason couldn’t resist a slight smile, “because you gain status by the quality of your enemies?” 

It startled a short laugh from Danny, quickly stifled as Lady Gotham beamed her approval. 

“In essence, yes. The struggle will be unending, because it must be, but we have come to… an understanding of late. Despair and death feed my Curse in the immediate sense, but when both are only to be expected… it’s a paltry meal. There is inevitability, even boredom, when it’s all despair all the time. So now the city has hope, and I prosper.” 

Lady Gotham preened, plumping up her perfectly round curls, the same self satisfied smile she’d had when mentioning how she had become the dominant spirit. Maybe the Curse hadn’t quite worked out just how much she got out of their little understanding too. Then she shrugged. 

“And the rogues have their little obsessions, their tricks and games, and sometimes there is despair and sometimes there is death. But what matters is that you are there to fight against it, to nobly win the battle…” 

“Even if we’ll never win the war,” Jason finished grimly, his mood souring. 

Wasn’t that what he’d always told Bruce? That his damn rules, his “No Killing” standard meant that everything else he did was pointless? That just locking people up in the bloody sieve that was Arkham was never going to change anything? 

Lady Gotham’s smile softened to something bittersweet and sad, and she nodded gently. 

“Gotham city will never know peace, Jason,” she told him gently, and suddenly she was smaller again, scant feet taller than him, and holding out a hand he’d be able to close his own around. “It will never be like any other city. But the only reason I stand at all is because people like you will look at this city, with its soot and its smuts and its people who have nowhere else to go, and decide that it is worth fighting for.” 

Those eyes were fixed on him again, black bats on yellow lights, and then suddenly… suddenly the irises were black, and the bats a familiar deep red. It might have been a blink; it might just have been that sharp moment of change. 

“There is one way that the war will end,” she told him softly, stepping closer through the void until he could have counted the pearls skittering across her dress, and every jet bead around them, if he could have looked away from her face. 

“On the day that those heroes turn away, that all else give up on Gotham and turn their backs. When no one stands against the tide of night and it is dragged down and away into the dark heart of the Cursed land beneath. It is only hope that stands in the way of that end, my Jason Todd… my Robin.” 

His brow furrowed and a fleeting smirk dashed across her lips, the faintest flicker of her gaze to Danny beside him, and Jason understood. It wasn’t Robin’s colours in her eyes, no matter what Damian had done to the suit. 

Her Red Hood. 

But she wouldn’t out him to Danny, not even now. 

His gaze fell to her hand again, suddenly bare and dark and open and nails that were a rich, bloody red. His blood, and Bruce’s, and every vigilante, and every citizen, and every rogue that stood, and fought, and died for her. Every life that was ruined or ended, all in this fight that could never be won, only lost. 

He met her gaze again, felt the red bat he’d emblazoned across his chest once more pierce his soul. 

Because… this was what it really meant, to wear the bat. Not just that he had forgiven Bruce, that they’d reconciled, that he’d rejoined the family. That he wasn’t going to kill unless he had to, and there was no other choice. 

No. 

He wore the bat because he wasn’t just the Red Hood, a name he’d stolen from the damn clown and carved across the city in blood until people only thought of him when they said it. He wasn’t the crime lord who’d filled a bag with the heads of his rivals’ best lieutenants, took Crime Alley in a bloody fist, and was just another gang leader. Just a bigger, scarier, nastier guy than the people who’d wanted that alley before to strip mine its people and poison its kids. 

And sure, being that guy had worked. It kept the worse gangs out. Kept his street kids fed and occupied, and mostly out of jail. Did what all of Bruce’s crusade had never managed to do; he’d cleaned up Crime Alley. 

And it hadn’t been enough. 

Hadn’t made anyone feel safe; not when all they had was Red Hood’s whim that kept them from going right back to the mess they’d been left in. 

The Alley was different too, this last year. He’d always tried, as Hood and Jason. Wanted people to come together, build a community, to feel safe in their home and protect it. 

To feel like someone finally, actually cared about them. That someone cared about Crime Alley for its people, not what they could take from them. That they would be defended. 

And people had played along, back before he took the bat. They’d come out, cleaned up the street, fixed up some store fronts and made careful conversation, because that was what you did when the man with the big guns said he wanted you to play nice.

And they’d been wary, cautious, watching the Hood like he’d snap at any second no matter what Jay told them. And he’d known they were just… humouring him. Didn’t believe in it. And he’d thought the only way to get them to see was to keep going, keep giving back until they realized he really meant it all.

He’d patrolled since the first day he’d come back, but it had been the day he’d gone out in his modified uniform, the red bat on his chest, that things finally changed. 

His working girls and boys didn’t straighten up when he approached. The street kids didn’t run when his shadow passed overhead. People looked up into the night and they smiled, thanked him, reached out to the gang and left little red bat signs in their windows. 

With the red helmet and black body armour, he’d been just another thug to fear. And oh, he’d fucking hated it at first, turned his vision to sickly green that all this acceptance only came with B’s goddamn bat on his chest. 

When the kids tagged it on walls, dumpsters, taunting threats at the edge of their territory to every other gang in Gotham, they finally had a bat-approved protector. 

Never enough that he’d taken the bat off, though, and now he could see what all those little signs really said. 

“We have a protector too.” 

“Someone will find justice for us.” 

And, his personal favourite (love those little Alley bastards), “Our bat’s bigger than yours.” 

Bruce had put the shape on the symbol when he became the night and wanted to drive fear into the hearts of criminals instead of the ordinary citizens, but it wasn’t really his. It was Superman’s S, the symbol of the House of El, the symbol of Lady Gotham turned to something humans could see. 

The symbol of a protector, a guardian, and uniquely Gotham’s own. 

It was all there, in those red on black eyes, in that soft, knowing smile. 

“Have you ever backed down from a fight just because you knew you couldn’t win, Jason Todd?” She asked softly, so softly, and he had to smile back. 

She’d known him since the day he was born, and there was only one thing he could say to that.  

He took her hand. 

“Never.” 

——————

LISTEN Y’ALL I HAVE BEEN HOLDING THIS LADY GOTHAM REVEAL SO CLOSE TO THE CHEST.

HER DRESS. HER HAIR. HER GODDAMN TRAFFIC CONE! Anyway she’s wonderful and she’s perfect and she will be back next chapter too, but fuck knows when that will be, so! Hopefully a little less time than this last one, but We Shall See.

This chappy will go up on AO3 tomorrow, I usually try and do same day but I gotta be up early Yet Again and I still…. Haven’t done replies on the last one, so 😅

Wish me luck for the next chapter, I have SO MANY things planned and the outline is just sizzling and we are finally out of introductions territory and it’ll be time for the Plot! Ah, my beloved plot, which will hopefully pick up and speed things along a little more in-fic timewise…

Next Chapter:

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[jasper-pagan-witch]

Library Tips For Magic Practitioners

As a Missouri librarian, I've gotten to know my library district pretty well. So here are some tips for you!

Tip 1: Dewey is your friend.

And by that I mean the Dewey Decimal System (a more in-depth list is in that link) is your friend. It breaks down as follows:

000: General Knowledge (encyclopedias, newspapers, almanacs, etc)

100: Psychology & Philosophy (feelings, logic, friendships, etc)

200: Religions & Mythology (Bible stories, Native American myths, classical mythology, etc)

300: Social Sciences & Folklore (families, career, money, government, etc)

400: Languages (English, Spanish, American Sign Language, grammar, etc)

500: Math & Science (arithmetic, animals, rocks, plants, fossils, etc)

600: Medicine & Technology (inventions, machines, farming, health, etc)

700: Arts & Recreation (crafts, painting, music, games, sports, etc)

800: Literature (poetry, plays, novels from other countries, etc)

900: Geography & History (countries, biographies, etc)

If you're looking for ghosts, divination, and witchcraft specifically, look around 133. That's where I've found most of my magic-based books to borrow. You'll also find books talking about people's near-death experiences or reincarnation around this point.

While fiction technically falls in the 800s, most libraries will have it separate from nonfiction. You may still find things like poems or memoirs in the nonfiction section. Some libraries will have the biographies separated into their own section. A few libraries (at least here in Missouri) will have state-specific sections where you can learn more about local stuff.

Tip 2: There are computers and printers to use.

If you can't research something at home for literally any reason, getting a library card will often grant you access to using the computers and printers in the library.

When using the printer, some libraries will charge based on how much ink you use, other libraries will charge based on how much paper you use, and other libraries will charge based on some other criteria.

Be aware that you lose access to these if you reach a certain level of overdue materials or money is charged to your library card until the materials are returned/paid for or the money is paid off. Luckily, librarians are here to help you and can tell you what's missing.

Tip 3: Libraries have more than books.

Seriously. The main branch of my library district has 3D printers, telescopes, gaming systems to use in-building, and more stuff that I didn't even pay attention to because I was scrambling to learn the behind-the-counter stuff. Feel free to ask us for something and we can see if it's in-county for ya!

Audiobooks are often available on CDs and in the form of Playaways, which are like MP3 players with a single book on them. You will need a wire-connected set of earbuds or a wire-connected headset and batteries. Some libraries sell earbuds, but not batteries.

Large Print books will often have their own special designation as LP, but more often they have their own shelf sections. You'll find a surprising number of Westerns there, but there are Large Print nonfiction books.

Tip 4: Requesting materials.

Not finding something you're looking for? Ask the front desk for help! In Missouri, we have the Missouri Evergreen system, which means we can borrow books from all over the state* on the topic you're looking for.

If we can't find it (or you're in a library that doesn't have such a monumental reach), then you can often fill out a book request form. We will then do our best to order the book for you - but be aware that it could take many months, and most of the time, people will cancel their order of the book well before our budget catches up or we even have time to get the book processed and integrated into the system. Patience is key when ordering a new book.

*At participating branches - not every library district in our state is part of Missouri Evergreen.

Tip 5: Self-checkout is a thing.

At least, it is here in Missouri. If you don't want to interact with the front desk, there are often self-checkout stations for books, DVDs, audiobooks, et cetera. Even my middle-of-nowhere branch has one!

Unfortunately, this won't work for other things, like updating your card once it expires or resolving monetary charges (which will both send you to the front desk).

Tip 6: Search the new shelves.

Some libraries like mine will have specially-designated "New Shelves", where you can find a lot of the most recent releases. If you're trying to find something in a particular number that you saw on the search but can't find it, it may be on the new shelf. These get cycled out whenever new books come in, which may mean that you have several months' worth of new releases to dig through.

In short, I hope this helps you in your search through the library! Best of luck to you!

~Jasper

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (4/?)

Word Count: 2,270

Chapter 4

"Meet me on your best behavior, meet me at your worst…" - Death Cab for Cutie

Wondering who-the-fuck-in-Hell would be there knocking this late at night; Lucifer opened his door. Seeing that it was, in fact, Alastor standing at his threshold with a seemingly pleasant smile across his face; Lucifer immediately bristled.

“What in fuck’s – wait. Is that wine?” Lucifer peered behind Alastor’s waist; seeing his separated shadow clasping a large bottle of Riesling and a pair of wine glasses.

“Yes. I thought it might pair well with our…discussions. May I?” Alastor asked him, politely.

“…yeah, ok.” Lucifer stepped aside; letting him in.

Alastor stepped inside; his shadow following close behind. The shadow paused briefly beside Lucifer; offering him the bottle. Lucifer took it, and the shadow swept further inward to be closer to Alastor. Looking at the label; Lucifer closed the door.

“Where in Hell did you get this!?”

“I don’t just deal in souls; your grace.” Alastor told him. “And I’m rather partial to a rare vintage every now and again. This one has been made ready for us to enjoy.”

“No shit. Damn.” Lucifer led him to a small suite; directing him and his shadow to some plush chairs and an ornate table for them to recline by. There were less rubber ducks and circus trinkets scattered throughout here than were piled in his work-room. Alastor didn’t seem to pay much attention to the surrounding room though; his gaze never straying across items, walls, furniture, etc. He was very focused on his business here.

Alastor’s shadow; taking the bottle from Lucifer – opened it and began pouring wine into the two glasses. Alastor and Lucifer both sat down. Lucifer reached across for his wine glass; then leaning back he asked:

“So…what the fuck do you want to talk about?”

“I’m sure you are well aware of the subject matter that I wish to address with you tonight.” Alastor said; taking his own glass from the table and gently swirling the liquid. His shadow excused itself into a dark corner nearby.

“Hm…how forthright of you. You seem to be in a more…agreeable…mood tonight than you were yesterday.”

“The extermination is merely a couple months away…I had hoped that I might avoid having to address my…“rut” until sometime after, but I’m afraid that won’t be the case.” Alastor explained. “I’d like to discuss the best…approach to the problem; if you are so inclined.”

“Uh, huh.” Lucifer said dismissively. “So, what exactly are we discussing then?”

“I’m afraid that the effects of the cycle will greatly influence my duties in safeguarding Charlie and the hotel. During that time, I won’t be getting much sleep and –“

“Do you actually sleep?” Lucifer interrupted, prodding him.

“Yes.” Alastor answered him honestly. “Maybe not as much as most but I do require a reasonable amount.”    

 “I must have really taken the wind out of your sails.” Lucifer tipped his glass to his lips. “I didn’t anticipate you coming here and being so candid with me.”

“Yes, well, I can admit when I’ve made an ass of myself.” Alastor allowed.

Knowing this was as close to an apology as he was liable to get; Lucifer stated: “Well, I won’t say that I’m sorry. If anything, I think I should have gutted you sooner.”

Lucifer waited for Alastor to make a quip at that but then; he said nothing. Instead, he raised his own glass to sip from – offering no comment.

Interesting.

“Ok, so I assume you are wanting to formulate some plan going forward, is that it?” Lucifer clarified.

“Indeed. Initially, I preferred the idea of you safely displacing me from the hotel until I cycled out but, the timing is not ideal. There’s too much to be done and I don’t like the idea of leaving the hotel unguarded for any extended length of time.”

“Ah, lock you away in a tower just like you’re Rapunzel and I’m the dragon.” Lucifer japed; unable to help himself.

“I don’t recall a dragon in that particular fairy tale.” Alastor remarked.

Lucifer nearly choked on his wine. “The fuck do you know about fairy tales!?”

Alastor shrugged then waved him off; “Essentially…I suppose, but it’s not a good solution; not now.”

“Oh?” Lucifer absently traced a sharp claw around the rim of his wine glass. “How long do these things usually last for you, anyway?”

“You are somewhat familiar with Cervidae demons, yes? You’ve commented on it once before. We are commonly known for our deer-like tendencies. One very prominent one being that we experience fluctuating periods of cyclic mating periods or “the rut”. There’s a lot that gets rather muddled with it though; it’s confusing even for us demons that experience it because each and every individual is different in the timing, frequency or intensity of their own personal mating cycles.”

“Sounds frustrating.” Lucifer offered.

“It…is. I never know when a rut will happen or for how long. I can usually tell when one is approaching due to certain…changes. Even now though; I know one is coming I just don’t know when. I could start the cycle tomorrow or in a couple of weeks; it’s terribly inconvenient. Judging by personal experience; my cycles range anywhere from part of a day to several weeks. Unfortunately; avoidance is what lengthens the period. If I…sate, the need and rather quickly, the period tends to be much less.”

“So what if I contact Asmodeus? I’m sure we could find you some willing participant from the lust ring to fulfill whatever needs you need satiating.” Lucifer suggested. “He might even have another Cervidae in mind.”

Alastor shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with that. I assume when you offered and agreed to our deal that it was implied that you would be the actual one to…manage this. I’m afraid now it might have to be quite literal. Lilith wasn’t wrong in saying that I’ve killed other demons during my rutting. After your explicit demonstration yesterday; I am confident you would be well equipped in governing my actions.”

 “Honestly, I meant it in whatever way you wish to take it. I’m no prude.” Lucifer shrugged; tipping his glass. “While we’re on the subject though; I’d really like to know –“

“If you are referring to my moment of sexual homicidal infamy; I’d rather not discuss it.”

Lucifer very much wanted to prod more into it; but, he could see that Alastor was making a great effort here in being professionally courteous. Which led him to his next question;

“So, what exactly is your deal with all of this?” Lucifer asked him; setting his wine glass down now. “You’re here pitching off your plans to me like we’re discussing something terribly unpleasant. I get that you might think sex is beneath you; or rather you’d prefer you didn’t need it but, c’mon…if you have to go through it anyway, why not own it and enjoy it?”

“You misunderstand. It’s not my perception of sex that has anything to do with it.” Alastor told him. “I simply don’t…care for it.”

“What?”

“Apart from when I am in rut; it holds no interest to me.”   

“None? Whatsoever, just….nothing?” Lucifer gaped at him.

“Truly.”

“So, you just can’t get it up unless you are in one of your rut thingy’s?” Lucifer was trying to make sense of this.  

“Not exactly…” Alastor huffed. “With enough effort; stimulation and finding the right mindset – sure…but, it doesn’t just happen. It’s really and truly something I don’t care to think about or pursue, otherwise.”

“I can’t…I can’t wrap my head around that. I mean I-I could fuck anything that moves. Not that I really would but, well…you know.” Lucifer shrugged.

“No…actually, I don’t.” Alastor reaffirmed.

“So, do you – do you like know what you want to actually like…do?” Lucifer asked him.

“How do you mean?” Alastor’s ears slightly leant back; whether it was him being uncomfortable by the question or a display of true confusion; Lucifer couldn’t tell.

“Mutual masturbation? Oral? Anal? What have you?” Lucifer threw out.

Alastor’s ears stiffened; pressing further back. Definitely discomfort.   

“When I’m in in rut; I’m sure anything and everything will be open and on the table.” He sighed.

“So do you like, turn into an even bigger asshole when your rutting?”

“No, not quite…that more tends to happen to the time leading up to it.” Alastor was telling him; briefly remembering his friend Rosie dismissing him from a brunch they were having in Cannibal Town once telling him: “come back after your damn rut; honestly, you’re worse than a woman!” He couldn’t remember details; only that he was terribly aggravating to her that day.

Meanwhile; Lucifer was waging an internal battle. So, you were PMS-ing yesterday? He very badly wanted to say it…he very nearly did, but he reigned it in; feeling it prudent to continue with the good footing they had established here.

“It’s more that I’m…” Alastor was continuing with his answer. “I’m just – Well, I can be a lot in those moments.”

The Radio Demon promises a good time… Lucifer thought, then he asked:

“Ok, so circling back. When or where are we going to…hash this all out?”

“I’m naturally crepuscular; and I’m generally more nocturnal in my activities. I can easily manage myself during the day. If we spend too much time at the hotel; even in my radio tower – we run the risk of being found out or discovered. If I spend too much time here or elsewhere; it leaves the hotel vulnerable. I propose we go back and forth; it won’t be so different to my normal activities – no one would think to question it at this point – and I have Niffty and Husker established so that if anything were to happen while I’m away; I’d know and can be there almost immediately.”

“Hm…yes, that might be wise. We can always tell Charlie that you and I buried the hatchet, as it were, and are meeting to discuss ideas with how best to proceed with the upcoming exterminations. She’ll wish to be included – of course – but if I tell her it’s something you and I are bonding or getting to know each other over; she’ll let it be.”   

“How…very manipulative of you.” Alastor commented; ears perking up. He was…impressed.

“Yes, well…” Lucifer reached back for his wine; lost for a moment in his thoughts. Then leaning back in his chair again; he offered:

“You’ve been very…frank with everything tonight. Do you have any questions you wish to ask me?”

“This meeting Charlie has with Heaven…do you think it will accomplish anything?” Alastor had in fact; been holding onto some questions.

“No.” Lucifer told him bluntly. “I don’t but, Lilith foresaw Charlie asking me to arrange it. I’m not…comfortable with it but Lilith will be there – Charlie won’t know that, of course – but it’s the only reason why I’d allow my daughter to go up there without my being there with her.”

“Do you think Lilith will succeed with her plans?” Alastor asked him, wanting to know. “Do you think that she can actually overthrow Heaven?”  

“If anyone; it would be her.” Lucifer finished off his glass; Alastor’s shadow quickly slid out from the corner to refill it for him. Lucifer nodded to it, taking a sip as it shifted itself back away. “She’s been planning this for some time now, making sure everything falls into just the right place at just the right time. The only hiccup we’ve ran into was you slipping yourself between the cracks but maybe that was fortunate for us – it remains to be seen.” He gave Alastor a hard look.

“If I get what I want from this, I’ll be as beneficial to your cause as I possibly can.” Alastor told him. “But, why are you choosing to do this? Weren’t you amiable toward Heaven; even after everything?”

Lucifer sighed. “Lilith has been with me through all of it…since the beginning. I’ve tried to make the amends to my mistakes; tried to make Heaven see that what we did…it wasn’t for the intentions that they thought. I’ve been fighting a losing battle for thousands upon thousands of years…Lilith stood by me; supported me all that time. Now, it’s time I stood by hers. We got nowhere with my plans and ideas for our future; so it’s time I supported hers.”

“How disgustingly devoted of you.” Alastor made a face and movement of his tongue; like he had actually tasted something terrible.

Lucifer laughed. “That’s just who we are. We depend and rely on each other.”

“So…she really has no issues with…this? What you and I are going to be doing?” Alastor asked him; wondering. “Call me ‘old fashioned’; but I’d hate to come between a man and his wife.”

“Lilith never would have agreed to it if she had reservations.” Lucifer told him. “She wasn’t lying when she told you that our relationship has been…unconventional, at times.”

“Hm…” Alastor remembered his wine and sipped from the glass.

“How long has it been for you anyway?” Lucifer asked him. “I’ll be coming out of a bit of dry spell myself; Lilith tends to get focused on other things when they’ve claimed her interest and I haven’t found much motivation in seeking out an outlet.”

“Years?” Alastor though. “Very nearly a decade, maybe.”

“Fuck.” Lucifer blurted. “You’ve got me beat then. You weren’t kidding when you said these mating cycles of yours were unpredictable.”

“Also part of the reason that I’m relying on you…specifically. I’m not sure just how…enthusiastic I might be.”

“So, how will I know that you are in rut?” Lucifer questioned him.

“Oh, don’t worry – my King.” Alastor fixed him with a sharp gaze. “You will know.”

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

Scene inspired by: @applepartysins fanart/comic here

Chapter 5

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Fly Free with the Mexican Free-tailed Bat

Also known as the Brazilian free-tailed bat, guano bat, or Tadarida brasiliensis, this member of the order Chiroptera is one of the most widely-distributed New World bat species. They are common throughout the southern United States, Central America, and western South America. In many parts of the southern United States, the species is migratory and moves to Central America for the winter. They roost primarily in caves, but can also build nests in buildings; because of this, they can be found in a range of habitats including tropical and deciduous forests, mountains, deserts, and urban areas.

Like most bats, the Mexican free-tailed bat is nocturnal, emerging at sunset to hunt. They are primarily insectivores, and will travel great over 31 km (50 mi) to find food. In fact, this species holds the record for both the highest recorded flight altitude-- at 3.3 km (2 mi) high-- and the fastest flight speed-- an astounding 160 kph (99.4 mph)! That makes the Brazilian free-tailed bat the fastest mammal on Earth, although they can only achieve those top speeds in short bursts and with a good tail wind. Moving that fast can be useful, not only for covering great distances or catching insects, but for avoiding predators like raptors and owls. Young bats that can't fly may also be susceptible to opossums, skunks, and snakes.

The roosts of T. brasiliensis can be quite large; many contain several thousand individuals, while some have been recorded as housing more than a million. For this reason, communication is very important. Mexican free-tailed bats use echolocation to navigate and, for mothers, to locate their young. This species has over 15 distinct calls just for socialization. In addition, they can use their vocalizations to 'jam' the echolocation of other rival species and steal their prey.

Mating for the Brazilian free-tailed bat occurs once a year in the spring. Females gather in large maternity groups, while males mark out a territory by urinating and emitting loud vocalizations. Once a pair mates, the two separate- often to seek out another partner. Gestation lasts 11-12 weeks, and once females give birth they leave their offspring in a group of pups known as a creche, that is cared for communally. The pups take 4-7 weeks to be weaned, and after they learn to fly they join the larger roost as independent adults. However, females take up to 9 months to become sexually mature, while males may take as long as 2 years. In the wild, an individual may live as long as 8 years.

Size-wise, T. brasiliensis is on the smaller side of the bat group. Most individuals are around 9 cm (3.5 in) in length and weigh around 7–12 g (0.25–0.42 oz), with a wingspan of 28 cm (11 in). Females tend to be slightly heavier, but not larger otherwise. The tail of the Mexican free-tailed bat accounts for nearly half its total body length, and is unconnected by the thin membrane that makes up its wings (the uropatagium)-- hence the name 'free-tailed'. The ears are large and rounded, to assist with echolocation, and the muzzle is heavily wrinkled to give them a wider gape when catching bugs in mid-air. The Brazilian free-tailed bat's fur is dark brown or gray, with no distinguishing features save the long, white bristles around their feet.

Conservation status: The IUCN has classified the Mexican free-tailed bat as Near Threatened. However, populations are declining due to habitat destruction and susceptibility to a fungus known as white nose syndrome. Governments in the southern United States and Mexico, as well as private NGOs like Bat Conservation International, have established laws and conservation areas to protect the species.

If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a kofi!

Photos

Michael Durham

Merlin D. Tuttle

Carlos Russi

[coffee-and-guitar-strings]

Studying with ADHD

Dear God. My activity on here is sporadic, as is fitting with my diagnosis, but I thought maybe this post could help anyone that's been struggling alongside me.

Warning: Long Post

Feel Free to browse the bullet points and stop if something catches your eye!

If you don't like any of these, don't use them! They're based solely off my experience, and everyone experiences ADHD differently <3

Content:

Setting up The Space

Study Snacks!! - No hunger in The Space

Compete with yourself

Ignore Pomodoro

Reverse the feeling of 'not being smart enough'

Active Recall

Unriddle.ai (not sponsored,,,)

Final Tip

Final Note

Here ya go:

1. Setting up The Space

Some sites say to create a 'distraction free zone' to study in. Screw that, it never worked for me.

My brain is the distraction. I'll stare off into space if there's no other option.

INSTEAD:

We set up a study space that both fulfils random urges mid-work session, and limits distractions away from the desk.

I.e. we don't get up until we need the bathroom.

You limit the amount you get up from The Space, you limit the number of things your attention span will switch to.

Snacks, fidgets, drawing, separate screen for watching stuff? Whatever works, stick it on the desk.

Food wise, I try to make a healthy lunch and then eat it at my desk while reviewing stuff, but sometimes I need a longer break.

If I am taking a break, I do it away from The Space. The Space is dead to me now.

Try to compartmentalise your area, work only in these spots, relax only in these, sleep only there.

We're trying to train our brains here, people, simple and clear relations of space to activity typically get embedded easier.

Also: work whenever.

Burst of energy at 9pm? Go for it, we sleep badly anyways.

Middle of lunch? Have a flashcard/ notes app on your phone, do it while you eat.

With friends? See method 5 <3

I'll link a separate post I'll be making on exactly how my space is set up, though most of the key points are in this one :)

2. Study Snacks!! - No hunger in The Space

One. Handed. Food. Only.

Also, food that doesn't get stuff on your fingers.

You can't work if you're constantly wiping your hands to keep going, and you need something you can absentmindedly grab while you keep your eyes trained on the work.

I recommend getting artificial sugar in your system, sweets, chocolate, give yourself a mild sugar rush to keep a bit of a buzz going while you work.

(try to be healthy about it, this won't be sustainable long-term, but I find a shot of sugar to the system can help prevent burnout)

Also caffeine! Please be aware of how much caffeine you're having for health reasons - I need to watch how much I have, since my medication is already bad for my heart, but even just having a coffee and some sugar at the start of the session, I get enough energy to start working

As long as I don't stop until I'm Done, I will be good.

3. Compete with yourself

I don't recommend competing with others, it toes the line of 'feeling like a failure' too much for my liking, but if it works for you, go for it.

Instead, I compete with myself. Mostly quizlet flashcards, but also 'how much of this have I remembered from yesterday?', and 'How much more can I remember today?'

Whether it's personality or hyperactivity, this gives a dopamine hit. Finding ways to make studying something you can score against is one of my favourite methods.

Video games are an ADHD staple for a reason, easily trackable progress and dopamine from rewards/hyperfixations/etc. make them addictive.

Turn the work into a video game (I think at this point I may sound insane to you guys but please trust me)

4. Ignore Pomodoro

ADHD students, we have to think like sharks: we stop, we die.

Once you have found yourself studying with (relative) ease, Do. Not. Stop. You keep that going as long as possible.

ADHD doesn't mean you can't focus, you can, you just have no choice in where that attention gets allocated. So, when a tomato-based timer tell you to turn off your focus and relax, after it took you half the damn time to start the stupid work, it can be a little counter-productive

(I may have some repressed rage for pomodoro, try to forgive me)

Please, ignore the pomodoro stuff. I know it's healthy to regulate the volume of work you do, but I find that once I start working, I can't stop until I run out of energy.

I time or video myself instead, I can track how long I've been working, feel proud of it, and I also can't use my phone during that session.

When my brain stops taking stuff in, I have an hour to 2 hour break, relax (away from The Space) try to reset my brain so it's back to baseline. Then I start again.

5. Reverse the feeling of 'not being smart enough'

I know I am smart, and it's on others if they don't see that, but having undiagnosed ADHD for 17 years did a number on my self image and confidence.

If you struggle with this, it's so, so helpful to try this method, and can start to reverse the negative internal image we've managed to cultivate <3

So, after you've covered a topic: tell someone about it (please make sure they're ready to listen to you rant for half an hour).

Not only are you reinforcing what you've just learnt, but you also get to feel competent, and teaching someone else about your topic helps to raise perceptions (internal or from others) of what you know/what you're capable of.

6. Active Recall

This one goes great with the whole, 'competing with yourself' method (no. 4);

Active Recall is just making sure you're going over old information and recalling correctly, once it's past short term memory. Trying to remember information without it present forces your brain to pull it from Long-term memory and reinforces the information in your brain.

I know it's been said a million times, but this + competing with yourself does wonders for me.

My favourite method is blurting ( read/write notes of one topic, wait ten minutes, do something else productive, and then try to copy that topic from memory. repeat until all key info is correctly recalled)

7. Unriddle.ai (not sponsored,,,)

Okay, this site changed it for me. 5 free uploads, 15 free inputs per month.

Download a copy of the fancy scientific paper/article/book you need to read through. Upload.

Ask unriddle to summarise key points, to re-write it as if you were 7, etc.

This genuinely saved my essays. Suddenly the procrastination of reading my source material was gone. It makes it so much easier to get through dense/boring text and then I wrote everything myself.

Please do not plagiarise, I am only recommending this site to make things easier to read, copying down what it produces is considered plagiarism by my uni, and likely most others.

8. Final Tip

Be kind to yourself.

When I got medicated, my friends were genuinely stressed by how much work I was suddenly doing.

One of them asked me about it, and I realised it didn't feel like I was doing any more than normal. I had always been working this hard, it was just that half the energy going in wasn't being wasted on trying to get myself to focus.

What you put in may not receive the same results as for others, but the reality is that you're likely working harder than they are. The irritating truth is simply that we have to compensate for the different cognitive functioning that neurotypicals get to take for granted

(no hate to the NTs, I'm glad ya'll don't have to think about it, but for someone with ADHD, it can be really tough to realise)

A Final Note:

You are smart. You can do this. We just need to modify the system a little to make it work for us. There is no shame in that, anyone telling you otherwise needs a reality check.

Genuinely though, I've noticed that people telling me I use my ADHD accommodations (required by law) as a 'crutch'.

1. If the world were set up by me, that same person would struggle just as much, if not more.

2. If Rishi Sunak's government is willing to GIVE ME FREE MONEY to access these accommodations, that implies that this genuinely is needed. Not because I think Sunak is intelligent or kind (my own political opinions, please just hear me out), but because there is no way, with the underfunding of the NHS, Public services, etc. that they'd be willing to give me money I don't need to repay if it wasn't a scientific fact that I needed it, and it helped.

Use the inadequacies of the government to your advantage in arguments, make the idiots see how integral our accommodations are. I'd have dropped out of uni by now without them.

For anyone in need of help trying to convince family/friends/teachers/etc. of the struggle with ADHD (or anything else, though I won't have as much experience with it), telling them what you need help with, or any other arguments, send me an ask. I do psychology for my degree, I am used to searching for research papers, and I will help you with the necessary scientific backing for your case.

You are not in this alone <3

Lots of Love!

Coffee + Guitar Strings

@chocolatelandgarden @chaoticstudyprincess

[theonevoice]

Mini painting process breakdown

I'm really bad at explaining my mostly-winged-it process, but since a couple of people asked here's a mini-breakdown of what I have been doing on my journey to this pseudo-painterly style:

Disclaimer: I have no formal art training of any kind, I'm guessing my way through this artsy season of my life that just restarted last October; this is merely a general description of what I am doing these days, not a tutorial or a guide to tell anyone what they should do. Anyone has a different process and I am a strong believer in doing whatever works for you, no matter what "The Rules" or other people say.

0. Before I even start drawing, I collect a bazillion reference pictures for every single thing that I plan to represent, from Michael Sheen's face to gold embroidery texture on 1800s extant garments;

1. (undocumented because when I said that I'm bad at this I meant it and sure enough I forgot to grab a screenshot of this step) I establish the general background color and draw a very loose sketch of the character;

2. I switch to a basic hard round brush and free-hand some color blobs to establish the position, general shape and values of the character, using the colors that are already in the background to make sure that the charater "belongs" in that space (tip: if I need to introduce new colors I pick a shade that seems close to what I want, put it on a separate layer, and then lower the opacity of that layer until the background color bleeds through and harmonizes the new shade);

3. I divide the character into smaller bits (face, hand, jacket, sash...) and apply clipping masks to bring the color blobs into reasonable shapes, in this case a left hand (I found that I can fine-tune the shapes at any moment by playing with highlights and deep shadows on the edges);

4. I then switch to an equally basic airbrush for the main rendering, using the color picker tool to blend midtones and highlights/shadows until my shape starts looking 3Dish (this part can be quick or take forever depending on a variety of factors that I honestly cannot explain);

5. I bring down the airbrush size to add finer details that can sell the illusion (here still in progress);

6. (eventually) I add a ton of adjustment layers to make sure that the completed part is consistent with the rest of the image (tip: if there are more bits of the same "family", e.g. skintones, I use the color picker tool to grab the midtones that already exist instead of mixing them ex novo).

That's it, I believe, unless I am forgetting something. Feel free to ask if there is something more specific that you'd like to know!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for ghosting 2 of my closet friends?

TL;DR: 2 of my closest/longest friendships ive had were ended by me stopping any and all communication, either unprompted or prompted. i dont feel any urge to talk with these people again, and i do not want to rekindle these friendships.

i (19ftm) have had only 2 friendships were i would consider the other person a "best friend". the first one was when i was in middle school (12-13). this other person, we'll call K(at the time 13F). now back in middle school i was what would be considered as the cool kids say: Cringe. super obsessed with undertale AND homestuck, a big 1-2 punch.

i met K through our homeroom class, and we really hit it off well. she was funny, great at art, and also loved undertale (she was the one who actually got me into homestuck, but thats besides the point). we hung out constantly, always chatting and swapping art tips, that sorta thing.

when i moved schools in 7th grade we became distance friends. not long distance bc we lived 30 min. away from each other, but we didn't get to see each other everyday anymore. eventually we started dating, but i didnt really feel content w the relationship at the time (i didnt know i was trans/gay yet lol).

one day i told her i was taking a break from social media/discord for a while until i sorted myself out, and then i would be back. i never spoke with her again after that and i felt like shit for years for ghosting my at the time girlfriend. i didnt take the break with the intention of ghosting K, it just kinda happened. she deleted her discord and i don't remember her tumblr so i have no way of communicating w her anymore. we knew each other for about 3-4 years, and dated for about half of that.

my other friend we'll call T(ftm). I met T my freshman year, when i was 14. T is 2 years older than me, so he was 16 at the time, a sophomore. T and i really hit it off well, and we hung out all the time after school, and talked over discord daily. he did a lot for me ill be honest, and helped me through an identity crisis when i realized i was trans and also gay.

however, when T graduated he started to drift away. i was still a junior at the time but we stayed in contact the best we could. i started driving so i would visit him in his apartment on weekends. however things really nose dived my senior year. i was 17-18 and all my friends had graduated, so i was already feeling pretty alone.

i kept trying to find comfort in T but he just kinda faded away. he found a new friend group of ppl closer to his age and they started hanging out more. i knew some of these people from our school, and was even friends w one of them, but for some reason he insisted on keeping me separate from them.

things boiled over when our mutual friend from this new friend group decided to throw a halloween party, but had to cancel last minute. time skip to november 1st and im picking up T to go rollerskating, and to my surprise he hops in my car out of breath and says "sorry it took so long, i was cleaning up after a halloween party!" and went on about this party he threw the night before with all his friends from the other group. T explained to me that he didn't invite me bc "i wouldn't know any of them".

i was pissed. really pissed. i stopped making plans to hang out with him, but to my surprise so did he. we stopped chatting daily, and the last time we spoke was april of last year. i sent him a final message in may trying to spark another conversation but he never replied. so i gave up. i stopped talking to him.

then i realized the pattern of me growing extremely close with someone only to ghost them. i know T basically ghosted me but i also stopped putting in the effort so i feel i still hold some of the blame. even when i last saw T in person i avoided him like the plague, and i just pray that if we do see each other again he does NOT recognize me.

What are these acronyms?

[dreamofmetoday]

PICK A CARD #3: LIKELIHOOD OF DIVORCE

this is to see if your (first) marriage will be successful or not 💖

more information:

this means successful mostly in the traditional sense - will you stay together or not.

if you have already been divorced you can use this pick a card for your next marriage.

if you don't believe in marriage but still think you will be or plan to be "basically married" then you can still use this pick a card.

do not use this pick a card if you don't want to know the future of you and your spouse.

how to participate:

ask yourself, "will my (first or next) marriage be successful in the traditional sense?"

choose the photo of the actress you feel most drawn to.

take as long as you need to choose, you can check more than one if you feel drawn to do so. however, if you are having trouble feeling called to any then this pick a card is not for you. these readings will be honest.

tip jar

1. high chance of getting divorced. there is a high chance of you experiencing a very “normal” divorce, as in your divorce will likely occur in the way most people experience it - you become more increasingly annoyed with your partner and realise they are no longer what you want (and vice versa). your goals become more and more out of sync as time goes on so there is no point in trying anymore. there’s also a medium to high chance that you will look back fondly on this relationship eventually (and even miss them) so it doesn’t seem it will be a toxic relationship overall. there’s also a chance that you two may start fighting a lot a and have a bitter divorce but then learn to get along again later (perhaps for the sake of children). for some of you, external factors will cause the marriage to end but you will look back warmly on your time together.

2. low to medium chance of getting divorced. there is a good chance of this relationship working out in the traditional sense and achieving “happily ever after” long term, but only if you’re both able to come over messy beginnings and possibly even a period of separation. you two may have a relationship that starts off in a way where it seems you shouldn’t be together - your friends and family are against it and you don’t seem well-suited to each other. you two fight a lot and hurt each other, maybe you even break up a lot or one or both of you cheat on the other person. however, choosing to move forward with this person could result in a relatively “boring” marriage as the years progress and you surprise others by how relaxed you two turn out. if you stay together it will be an odd mix of fear (being scared you’ll miss them too much) and courage (choosing to stay despite having a rocky start people judge).

3. very high chance of getting divorced. there’s a very high chance neither of you are genuinely compatible with each other. this is a situation where the relationship is likely not working for a long time but still only ends after a sudden confession (from one partner saying they can’t do it anymore) or after one partner has been caught cheating (which likely would also have been occurring for a long time, perhaps even before you actually get married). this means that despite the two of you not being compatible and knowing you aren’t very happy for a quite a while, the suddenness of the confession or discovery of infidelity will cause sadness and a sudden shake up of your lives (one partner in particular will feel very foolish and embarrassed). however, there is also a chance that this pile needs to stay married for societal, family or financial reasons in which case the marriage will likely remain unhappy.

4. 50-50 chance of getting divorced. you are likely someone who doesn’t want marriage too deeply or even if you do dream about it, you easily long for freedom and independence once in committed relationships. it is partly for this reason that your first or next marriage being successful is highly dependent on simply whether or not you even want to be married. you will not be incompatible with your partner overall but problems will arise and you may have different opinions that cause conflict you just don’t want to deal with (eg. do we live in the city or the countryside?). having small arguments about how chores get done or how much money is allowed to be spent on shopping and takeout etc. is something that also grates on your nerves since you know you wouldn’t have to deal with it if you were single. you will need to learn to compromise and make sure to “participate” in the relationship more (and make sure to comply with their love language) if you want the marriage to work out. if you choose to get divorced, you will miss this person very deeply and may regret it for longer than you’re thinking.

[perpetual-stories]

how can I know what I want to write? I'm just trying to write and I don't know what I can write, when I write like ijust delete it quickly because I don't like it :(((

How To ‘Write What You Know’

Hi, Anon! Thank you for sending in your question! I know writing can be overwhelming sometimes but hopefully these tips can help you “know what to write.” I hope this helps!

What Does ‘Write What You Know’ Mean?

“Write what you know” is a piece of writing advice that many aspiring authors are probably sick of hearing but it’s one of the most common advices there is for a reason!

Writing about what you know can take many different forms depending on your writing process and the sort of creative writing project you’re working on.

Writing what you know can range from your expertise in a favorite movie, tv show, book, anime, manga, etc. that’s why often a lot of the time fan fiction is an easy go to. However, it doesn’t necessarily have to be the few mentioned, if you like tattoos and know a little bit about them maybe writing characters or a quick sentence revolving around that can be a great idea too! Remember: what you’re familiar with and know is one step closer to fleshing out an idea inspired off of your knowledge.

Even if you’re not a complete expect on tattoos, jellyfish, card tricks or whatever you’re interested in don’t be afraid to try and write about it and do research! A lot of great and established writers are never afraid to do research.

Don’t be afraid to just write/ type out whatever pops in your head, there’s a reason why successful writers have multiple drafts. Don’t be harsh on yourself from the start allow yourself to write the silliest thing in your mind and roll with it. Word vomit on the page!

Buy writing prompt books,. There are a million of random writing prompts that can inspire you to branch off of their single sentence idea and create your own story!

4 Ways to Write What You Know

Writing what you know at its simplest level can involve writing about your own life and first-hand personal experiences. If you’re writing fiction or pieces outside of your life experience, it can take a bit more know-how and hard work to find how you relate to your subject matter.

Follow emotional truths. As a good writer, it’s your job to find a way into the material. One way to do this is to focus on the emotional realities of the characters in your piece and look for common ground. J.K. Rowling has very little in common with the fantastical life of Harry Potter, but that doesn’t mean she can’t relate to the universal experience of a teenager trying to find their way in the world during their high school years. As you start writing, especially if you’re a first-time nonfiction writer or are tackling your first novel, look for emotional common ground with your characters.

Reflect on a period of time in your life. Take some time apart from your work to think about a specific time in your life. This can help you find a way into a piece you are working on. Fiction writers like Ernest Hemingway often take direct inspiration from autobiographical events then loosely fictionalize them to use in a novella or full-length novel. First-time fiction writers might find that taking a specific event from their lives and fictionalizing it will demystify the fiction-writing process and help them break through writer’s block.

Freewrite. Freewriting about your own life, whether it be in journal form or something more abstract, is a great way to figure out connections between your personal life and your writing. At first you may not see how deeply personal your work is because, on the surface, it feels so separate from your personal life. Taking the time to write about your writing and the way it intersects with your life can help you see links and forge a more personal connection with your work

Place yourself in your character’s shoes. If you’re having a tough time relating to your work, take a moment to fully inhabit one of your characters and think about how you would approach whatever situation they find themselves in. You’ll always want to empathize with your characters, but setting aside a specific time to reflect on a character’s motives can help you understand them more deeply. What would you do if you found yourself in your character’s position? In what ways is it reminiscent of situations from your past?

I hope this help you Anon or anyone else who might have trouble!

Please follow and reblog for more!

[hello-nichya-here]

not a shipping ask but more a country-based,

i applied for exchange and decided to stay in Europe (for now, purposefully vague for privacy) and there was an option to go to Brazil which some people choose.

i remember you saying in one separate ask that Brazil is truly a country that you must prepare for properly before going there and i am curious about that? if you have already replied please just link me xoxo

Here's the things you absolutely gotta know before moving to Brazil:

1 - Unless you're a literal refugee of war or of a country that is absolutely economically destroyed or you are OBSCENELY rich, you don't actually want to do that. Go live literally anywhere else.

Here's the things you absolutely gotta know before you visit Brazil.

1 - The heat WILL get very close to killing you, or at the very least make you wish you were dead. Yes, even during winter. People end up in the hospital because of it all the time. Unless a brazilian specifically told you "Bring warm clothes when going to this place at this time of the year" assume you'll forget what cold weather even is, and even then you should still bring summer clothes just in case.

2 - Trying to get a tan is suicide. Focus on protecting yourself from the sun, especially at the beach. Again, people end up at the hospital for that stuff all time - severe burns, fever, and anything that touches your skin WILL hurt like a bitch.

3 - Mosquitos. Mosquitos everywhere. Lots of them transmiting diseases that will make all your bones hurt and your guts bleed. Depending on what part of the country you're visiting you might even have to get a ton of vaccines before being allowed there.

4 - If you see literally any animal species you're not familiar with, avoid it. Depending on the region of the country, stay the fuck away from any spider, even a tiny one that looks harmless. If you're going into a forest region, especially the amazon, assume everything there can and will kill you.

5 - If you visit the amazon or the pantanal, do not go on your own. You're not Indiana Jones. You WILL get lost and die. Avoid any and all shady tourist guides, even if you can't really explain why you think they're shady, unless you want to get kidnapped. Do NOT get into any river without double-checking with someone familiar with the region if that particular one is free of any fish that can kill you AND isn't guaranteed to sweep you away until you drown.

6 - Do not walk around wearing anything expensive or talking/texting/doing anything on your phone, and if you have a bag, purse or backpack, keep it very close to you at all times. If someone is trying to rob you, shut up and give them all they're asking for. This tip is extra important if you're going to Rio de Janeiro.

7 - If you want to go to a non-pacified favela: Don't.

8 - If you want to voice your opinion about Brazil's politics to a brazilian you just met: Don't.

9 - If you want to go out at night by yourself: DON'T.

10 - If you go to Rio, trying asking a brazilian stuff like "How much does a taxi from the airport to the hotel usually cost?" or keep an eye on the GPS if you're taking an uber to make sure the driver isn't deliberately taking a longer path. Cariocas are infamous for finding ways of taking a bit of extra money from gringos that don't know any better.

11 - EVERYTHING IS EXPENSIVE AS FUCK. Yes, even if your country's money is worth a million times more than Brazil's money.

12 - If you're going to a beach, specially in the northeast of the country, and there's no one else around, do NOT go in the water unless you want to be eaten by a shark.

13 - If you're not basically a proffesional at surfing and want to go practice in the beaches that have the biggest waves: Don't. If you want to try your luck on amazonian waters: DON'T.

14 - If you're going to São Paulo, prepare to be stuck in traffic for a long, long, long, LONG time.

15 - If you want/need to go to the cops for literally any reason, especially in places like Rio, talk to a brazilian first (friend, host, lady at the hotel check in) and tell them what the problem is. A lot of the police forces here can be useless at best and VERY hostile towards any living at worst, so going to a local first so they can either go to the police station with you or solve your problem without getting the cops involved at all is often the safest choice.

16 - If you've ever been to Argentina before, say you like Brazil more even if it's a lie.

17 - If you went to São Paulo after going to Rio, say to everyone there that you like São Paulo more. If you went to Rio after having already been to São Paulo, say to everyone there you like Rio more.

18 - Brazilians WILL try to trick you into saying obscene stuff while trying to teach you a few words in portuguese. Double-check everything you were taught before saying it to a stranger.

[prince-rosalium]

I gave Hawthorne fake nails today. With no tutorial to help me, I expected to crash and burn.

I did not. They are lovely.

Here are some notes on what I did, in case you want to attempt this yourself:

Before attempting this, I highly reccommend watching a few youtube tutorials on how to sculpt polygel over a nail form. It helps if you have knowledge of how to form gel nails.

I purchased a polygel nail kit for $20 off Amazon. It came with a curing light, a nail file, a brush, a spatula, slip solution, and tubes of polygel. I highly recommend this. I used everything in the kit, and it is much more expensive to buy everything separately. The only complaints in the reviews were that you get too small of an amount of polygel and slip solution, but if you are using this for dolls, this shouldn't be a problem.

You may want to replace the slip solution with 72% alcohol. It works the same way, is probably better for your doll than slip solution that is made for humans, but I did use the slip solution in the kit.

The first thing I tried was making nail forms out of Scotch tape, but instead of cutting a hole for the nail like a traditional nail form (the hole would be too small) I chose to cover the nail and sculpt with the polygel on top of them, then try glueing them onto the nail afterward. This would probably work with more practice, but it was much more effective just to sculpt right on top of the nail without a form. With this method, you will not be able to make them very long, but they will be sturdy, stick well, and look pretty clean and smooth.

The only issue one might have is the way it looks from some angles, but I personally don't mind. I'll try and explain what I'm saying:

I sculpted these without a form, and as a result, from some angles, the nails can look heavy and round. I chalk this up to it being simply unrealistic to expect paper-thin sculpting on a pair of tiny hands.

Personally, I don't think this shape is a downside at all. I've seen a lot of long-nailed BJD hands that have the nails sort of... "molded" into the finger, probably for ease of casting?? But probably also because they won't snag on clothes and break. If I hadn't made the nails this shape, it'd be a lot easier to break them.

However, the reason I am embarking on this journey of doll manicuring is because I have a gyaru boy on the way, who I want to give long, ridiculous, sparkly pink nails, covered in gems. This formless method will not work for him. For this, I am going to make long tips out of plastic from straws, glue them on, and build the polygel on top. In order to reinforce it, however, I will be adding more polygel underneath, because I do *not* want these to break. This is definitely going to be "hands-off when taking off his shirt" situation.

Polygel... is sticky. I had to cure these nails multiple times. It's hard to get a small enough bead on the tip of the nail because polygel is meant to be applied in one large bead on a human nail. It takes a lot of slip solution to sculpt it, and using too much slip solution can make the curing go too sticky. It takes a little practice, but the nails look great regardless. Didn't even have to redo any.

My work process was as follows:

1. Sculpt the nails

2. Cure 30 seconds

3. Add another layer of gel to get them a bit longer and stronger

4. Cure 1 minute

5. Clean off the stickiness on top of the nails with alcohol or acetone

6. File the tops of the nails AND the bottoms (with respiratory protection PLEASE) and shape them how you like

7. Gel topcoat. Very important.

8. Cure 30 seconds.

After that, I just cleaned off whatever stickiness the polygel left behind with acetone.

This was my first attempt at this, but I always have trouble finding tutorials about this that I understand. I don't think I can fully be an authority on how to make these after one set, but I hope these notes help anyone looking to attempt this! All it took was a kit and about an hour, not even.

[paperanddice]

As a pf2e GM I was curious, when you port over 5e monsters to pf2e how do you translate the stat block over? I have a number of bestiaries both official and third party and I'd hate to have them be wasted, but certain things like advantage/disadvantage I don't understand. Or in some cases how to make them more unique than claw and bite multi attack

So, a few tips on some of my 5e to Pathfinder conversions so far. I'm still pretty new at this, so it's not something I can call myself a master of yet, but there's a few simple tricks.

I don't worry about converting advantage/disadvantage exactly. A lot of the time, Pathfinder has a condition or trait already in place that I can slot into place. Such as sickened, clumsy, drained, enfeebled, flat-footed, or many other options. If something would give the creature advantage, give it a +1 or +2 circumstance or status bonus to that effect, if it would cause disadvantage to the target pick a condition that sounds appropriate and use that instead. Pathfinder's conditions are more specific, but that's got a stronger flavor to it. Rather than disadvantage on all attack rolls, cause enfeebled so that the target feels weaker but doesn't penalize everything.

To keep them more unique, just try to pull out 1 thing that they'll do separate from the basic. That can be as simple as a kind of poison, could be a special attack you give them, or a flurry style attack, which is more unique and exciting in Pathfinder than in 5e. In 5e, most every monster can make multiple attacks at some point without trouble. In Pathfinder, generally a monster is limited to 3 actions, and a single attack takes one of those actions. Giving a monster a 2 action flurry to make 4 attacks has a much bigger impact on their action economy and the feel of that monster.

Give monsters some more spellcasting than their 5e comparisons, in particular the various outsiders. Pathfinder spellcasting is more balanced to the expected damage and effects of a monster, in that a monster of a given level is expected to be using powers on par with on level spells. A 7th level monster is balanced throwing out 4th level spells, while in 5e that's not the case at all. A creature with 8th or even 9th level spells might be barely a challenge to a 12th level party, depending on the spell selection (meteor swarm will throw off that curve), which is part of why WotC is moving away from NPCs using actual spells (the other reason is needing to know the rules for all the spells being used by the monster, but if you're playing Pathfinder you're going into a system with more complications expected).

I highly recommend finding stat blocks for 5e monsters and for the same or comparable Pathfinder monster and check out what they can do. Compare the 5e bulette to the Pathfinder one, hydra to hydra, manticore to manticore, and so on. That will give you an idea of the sorts of things Paizo is doing to convert them, how they spice up the features and actions, and a basis for how you can create your own versions. It'll also let you know the sort of actions and abilities that Pathfinder is expecting to include with its creatures, and how they're worded and organized. A lot of the time I'll find that there's already some action in some monster that does the sort of thing I'm looking for, or at least a close enough idea that it's easy to adapt.

I hope that helps a bit! Good luck with your own conversions, and if you want any specific monsters you can always back my Patreon and make a request for a conversion, or I'm planning to update my commissions to start doing Pathfinder monsters.