#I sure hope this readmore works

[the-wolf-poet]

I haven't written, let alone posted, fanfic in quite a while. I'm embarrassed to do this but I think it'll be good to practice not caring so much. This is a tiny fic (230 words) marking the beginning of Kaneki and Hide running away. I've tried writing this before and I'll probably try writing it again. I'm never satisfied.

"Hide," a figure whispered from the dark alley. "Hide, it's me... Ken."

"There you are, Kaneki." The bulging sides of a brief case gleamed from the dim streetlight nearby. Hide stepped into the scant circle, grinning as he brandished what once held a quinque. "I've got everything we need right here."

Kaneki closed the gap between them - oh he smelled like the sweetest dab of sweat - gave a quick smile, and led him by the arm in a feigned casual stroll. Out in the open the cold night air pricked his cheeks.

They walked for a while in silence. With hardly anyone around in the back alleys, Kaneki found his hand sliding down Hide's arm, down his wrist, down to his warm palm. Down to warm fingers lacing together. He lifted his gaze to the stars, the only eyes watching them. What did they look like to the universe, these two predators of each other? Was this perverse? Nothing had ever felt more right.

Hide saw Kaneki looking up and did the same. It was so nostalgic. They had done this for years on that concrete hill. This time they would stargaze somewhere real. Somewhere where the fences and poles and skyscrapers didn't trap their secrets like flies in a web, waiting to be consumed. He gripped Kaneki's hand harder as though he'd disappear again if he let go.

[lavender-gayz]

Lizzie the musical at Southwark Playhouse Elephant - some little moments that I loved, part 1/?

Background: This production originated at Hope Mill Theatre in Manchester. It features Lauren Drew as Lizzie; Maiya Quansah-Breed as her neighbour, Alice; Shekinah McFarlane as Lizzie’s sister, Emma; and Mairi Barclay as the Bordens’ housekeeper, Bridget. Esteemed tumblr user thegirl20 has many lovely photosets and gifsets of the cast, including this high-definition one where you can see the faces of everyone in the main cast (and also the set!)

I was lucky enough to catch this show with the main cast in London at the Southwark Playhouse Elephant a couple of times (plus once with Emma Louise Hoey as Lizzie and Ayesha Patel as Bridget) when they went on a mini tour in Nov/Dec 2023 :)

1. The House of Borden:

Bridget ladles out impressively gloopy gruel while singing about all-purpose mutton. Both Lizzie and Emma give it a wide berth (and say no to breakfast for the rest of the show).

Emma goes, 'we’ve no personal objection BUT SHE CAN'T HAVE WHAT'S OURS' – an increasingly-concerned Lizzie rushes over and shakes her head and Emma is temporarily mollified. Fair is fair in the House of Bordennnnn!

The way their voices go up in the last ‘let us take you to an August back in 1892’ – MUAH.

2. This Is Not Love:

Lauren Drew performs the majority of this song while sitting uncomfortably in an ornate armchair where something horrifying routinely happens. It’s very effective.

She really conveys the despair and the agony Lizzie feels – there's one bit in the final verse where she gasps out, 'this is not love' and she sounds so incredibly broken.

(“I want…to see arms outstretched to hold me / wanting nothing in return / but only for me to feel safe and secure”

She’s literally next door, Lizzie.)

And at the end she tears herself out of the chair with the line ‘I don’t know what it is, but I want out of it.’

3. ‘I love you too, Father.’

4. Gotta Get out of Here:

Lizzie absently trails her hand along Alice's arms and shoulders in this one bit at the start - Alice never stood a chance tbh.

Maybe I'll do a separate Alice x Lizzie highlights thing.

LOVE the energy in this song and how Lizzie almost seems possessed when she sings about something hanging over her and how she physically throws her body around.

Alice's higher 'stay here longer' when she joins in on the chorus is what angels dream of.

5. If You Knew:

Let's have MAXIMUM YEARNING

To set the scene: we’ve just come out of ‘Gotta Get out of Here’, where Lizzie expresses her need to get out of here and is hindered by Bridget, Emma and Alice (with some very cool dance breaks). Lizzie finally breaks free and Alice chases after her but loses her. We’re now in Alice’s bedroom where she’s thinking about Lizzie.

Lizzie is just off to the side (presumably in her own home or in her yard) looking sad and letting down her hair.

Alice is singing to herself about how much she loves Lizzie and wondering how Lizzie would react if she knew about this.

(She thinks a secret’s just a lie! This may or may not come back to bite us!)

Her voice just SOARS when she sings about dreaming about having Lizzie in her arms.

I like that this song expresses the pretty relatable concern of ‘oh no if you knew I had a big gay crush on you would you still let me touch you and comfort you’ but it doesn’t come with a side of ‘oh no it’s so wrong and gross for me to have feelings for another woman’. Thanks, Steven Cheslik-DeMeyer and Tim Maner!

And good news for Alice: YES Lizzie will let you hold her close when she knows about your secret gay feelings AND she will make out with you and hold you close too! You will get to be happy for approximately seven seconds before Bad News Bridget interrupts.

6. Soul of the White Bird:

'the violence of freedom'

Emma joins in with Lizzie from the side at ‘oh if I had wings like a dove’ - the harmonies!!

Bridget knits and goes la la la in counterpoint while Lizzie slowly falls apart.

7. ‘Lizzie, don’t!!’

8. Maybe Someday:

The FIRST iteration of this song and it’s Alice singing to Lizzie about how maybe someday her heart will be open. They may not get a conventional happy ending together but by god their story is integral to this show.

It is so sweet and then they end up cuddling and falling asleep!

I was going to save this for the Alice x Lizzie highlights, but this was too cute to leave out so I guess I'll just include it twice: Lizzie is the big spoon!!!

9. ‘Her bed is freshly made, as if she hadn’t slept in it at all!’ – Bridget, relishing her role as a gossipmonger-in-chief

10. Who hasn't had to kick a girl out in the morning because your sister needs to vent about developments in your father's will and is threatening to go to Fairhaven? Sisters, amirite?

11. ‘Emma, wait! What if Mrs Borden…dies first?’

12. Sweet Little Sister:

It has been said before and it bears saying again: vocals for DAYS.

The little lyric change to “I look into your cold dark eyes” to suit Lauren’s eye colour!

Bridget and Alice pop up with mic stands to sing along.

And then Emma fucks off to Fairhaven even though her sweet little sister was begging her to stay.

13. Mairi's delivery of 'oh Miss Emma you've forgotten your book! And she asked me to pack it S P E C I A L.' is so deeply funny.

14. Also hilarious: the very un-suspicious way Bridget slides the book of household poisons over to Lizzie.

15. ‘…time for Mrs Borden’s tea!’ I love Bridget.

This feels like a good time to take a break!

[punmonster]

im glad this game is so fucked up because then i get to say fucked up shit, like

maybe dante massacred their own head so badly while adding the prosthetic, that theres still pieces of it floating in there. someone could totally kiss dante on the lips if thats the case. all you have to do is open up dantes head, move aside the pulsating grey matter, flip over an ear, and announce the kiss because the nerve endings aren't connected to anything.

[clorofolle]

Longish rant about gluten free restaurants and the way they handle contamination under the cut!

Today I went to a pizza restaurant that offers gluten free options. I ask if there's a separate menu I can choose from, get told that nah, but also it's up to my discretion, depending on how much I react to contamination, to choose wisely. He gives me a short list of very bland/simple pizzas and says those are guaranteed contamination-free, while every other topping gets made in block but I can put them on the gluten free pizza base.

I'm blown away - it's hard to find people in food service 1) knowledgeable enough about contamination to understand that different people might take a different approach to them, and 2) honest enough to tell you how their process works!

I don't show symptoms/don't feel sick from a little contamination, and do blood work yearly to make sure I'm not accidentally ingesting too much gluten, and I've been 100% clean n good since I was a kid. I have an Extremely rigid gluten free diet at home, precisely so I can account for a little bit of contamination the few times I eat out. I never eat things with wheat in them of course, but I also can afford not to care if there's been indirect contamination in tools, kitchenware, frying oil etc. I know this because I've been celiac since I was a kid and know how I work by now.

So when I place my order and another guy comes out and tells that No, Actually I can only choose from those three bland pizzas, they have a responsibility, they cannot put toppings that they can't assure are not contaminated in the slightest, even if I take full responsibility, that's really disappointing!! Like I'm not gonna give the restaurant shit for it, it's good that they care about this stuff, and the guy was absolutely just doing his job.

But also - it very much feels like them trying to tell me how *my* health thing works. I wonder what kind of weird system they have in place - I suppose there's gotta be some legal reason for them to be soo strict about this, maybe they can legally be sued if they served that pizza as "gluten free"?

The best way I've seen a restaurant handle this, was saying that they offer burgers "with gluten free bread". So they can't say it's "gluten free burgers", and most sensitive individuals can avoid that place. But also, the other ingredients don't CONTAIN any gluten, per se, it's a way to say "there COULD be some contamination", and it's really smart, imo.

Fun thing is - pizza restaurant I went in didn't even have a second oven just for the gluten free stuff. I can tell bc my pizza had the classical "circular aluminium container" shape. And AFAIK, that's another actual red flag for very sensitive individuals, because Neapolitan style ovens are not usually kept too much clean, and there's like flour all around inside them (if your pizza gets a burnt bottom, it's probably bc of a dirty oven). So like uhh? You only have one oven? And you couldn't put a non-fried vegetable and cheese on my pizza?

Anyways I hope they find some legal loophole to get ppl like me more yummy pizzas. Because I actually LOVE when places are upfront about possible contaminations - it helps me keep count. I've definitely had places that claimed to be "gluten free" and then what I received had me doubt they even knew what that meant. A good compromise CAN be reached.

[zhukzucraft]

You are now Joe Hills

Joe: Howdy, y'all! This is Joe Hills, live from Double Life² SMP

Joe: I'm standing here by my lonesome 'cause most of the folks are scampering into that Great Big Hole on the horizon

Joe: Can't say I blame them

Joe: And over here we've got some mob murder happening. Oh the humanity!

Joe: Now here's a man on a mission if I've ever seen one. He sure seems to know what he's doing!

Joe: Meanwhile our fellow newbie is doing some good old tree punchin' right at spawn

Joe: Hope that's not a faux pas

Joe: With so many roads to take, how is a regular lil' guy like me supposed to decide? But decide I must, and soon

=> Joe: Follow Etho

Start Over -- Go Back

The time for suggesting the course of action is over! An update is being worked on, and the old post finish will now be hidden under a readmore

What will you do?

================================================

This is where action suggestions come in!

If you want to suggest what Joe Hills should do next, please put it in the replies! After 3 days I will collect all the suggestions and choose one or more to base the next update on!

And remember: soulmates are getting assigned soon~

[kingarmorking]

some aromantic thoughts and rambling under the cut don’t mind me

the more i think about it the more i think I’m more aro than demi? but then at the same time i think i might have another thing adding to it? so I’m constantly stuck in a loop of “do i experience romantic attraction for realsies or am i faking it till i make it?”

and it’s like. yeah you don’t have to put it in a box. fluidity is a thing. but for myself i’d feel sm better if i could just. FIGURE OUT WHAT IT IS

and then I’m like. is this what other people do? cause i feel like the average person doesn’t really Think about their romantic attraction this much!

and i wouldn’t be so hung up about this but?? it’s really. fucking up my relationship i feel like and i don’t even know how to approach it because. being aro is one thing but then. possible ptsd is a completely other thing.

I’ve got an apt with my doc this week but I’m just. fuckin Tired of this 🫠

[tgcg]

ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.

this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff

some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.

🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more

soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)

TIP 1) the right click trick

left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.

TIP 2) right click eraser

this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.

TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination

the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.

TIP 4) the gradience

this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)

then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.

TIP 5) superimposter

so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:

i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.

go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare

TIP 6) advanced superimposter

the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque

all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)

TIP 7) "sketch layer"

so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.

now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.

TIP 8) rainbow art

now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.

🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A digital drawing of Gabriel and V1 from Ultrakill in super-saturated, pixellated colors. It seemingly takes place during phase two of his second fight, judging by Gabe's bright yellow-cyan wings and the consequent blush shining through his helmet. Gabriel is pictured on the left, facing the left side of the screen with his head turned to V1, preparing to strike them with the bloodied spear in his right hand. Small but frequent splatters of blood dot his armor and outstretched wings, fabrics torn through in places. V1 is on the right, aiming its piercer revolver at his face. Their arms are stacked in pairs on either side, idle Feedbacker and Knuckleblaster on the left and Whiplash tucked atop their default arm on the right. Both parties are stylized to resemble insects, Gabe with beetle wings and a halo in the shape of antennae, and V1 with the four wings, four arms, short antennae and bristles expected of a dragonfly. End ID]

woah.... happy 1 year anniversary to gay people

also a couple alts (background removed, just gabe, and just v1, respectively) in hopes it'll be a little easier to understand what's going on and all!

additionally once again: special thanks to @magnumopos and @muzzleroars , neither of which I have actually spoken to in my life but both of which are credited with partially inspiring this! (dedicated section under the readmore due to the fact I do not generally tag people at all ever and wasn't sure if I should, but thought it was worth mentioning!) The former for giving me the wonderful idea of dragonfly V1, the latter for drawing V1 like a strange little creature + for the feedbacker plate, I enjoy both your works :]

(retroactively, on march 27th of 2024, assigning them a full bingo with credit to deep-space-lines. ehehehehe)

[brinconvenient]

This is a long tale, but I appreciate you taking the time to meet my friend Chris and help her out if you can.

TL;DR: my friend, an elderly queer woman I met when she was homeless just lost everything she owns in a fire at her first permanent home she had after becoming unhoused. Luckily, she and her cat were not home at the time. Please help if you can by donating or boosting.

This is a queer elder who needs our help. I'm hoping tumblr can come through for her

https://www.gofundme.com/f/fire-took-chris-baileys-home-they-need-help

Here's the long tale:

A friend of mine just lost everything except herself, her cat and the clothes on her back to a fire at her apartment (her first after being homeless for years) on Friday. We learned yesterday that nothing from her apartment is recoverable. Please help!

(Long post with cute cat pictures behind the readmore)

I met Chris one Sunday afternoon after driving past her three times as she sat on a bench outside our local library after closing. I stopped to ask if she needed a ride, and found out that she was homeless, staying in motels when her SSI came in and on the street when it ran out.

As the years have passed, I've learned a lot about her. Despite her parents kicking her out at 17 when she was outed to them as gay, she went back to school and became a social worker, working in several Chicago hospitals through the 80s and 90s, and, like a lot of queer women in the caring fields at that time, tended to and provided comfort and care for (among others) so many gay men, young and old, living with and dying from AIDS, from the earliest days of the disease through the availability of the triple cocktail and to the brighter days of hope.

Through it all, she had relationships with women in a time where that was something that wasn't always safe to do. Some were good, some bad, and some resulting in her losing nearly everything, but she struggled through. She quit social work in 99 or 2000 when her mom got sick and passed away, and then stayed out of the workforce to care for her dad until he passed in 2006. Those experiences impacted her deeply, and she became permanently disabled during that period, leaving her living on SSI, and struggling with her own mental health. She eventually lost her condo, and bounced in and out of apartments and motels.

When I met her in Sept 2019, I helped her get back into the motel she'd been staying at and bridging her to her next check and then making sure that she could stay there, and reliably get her maintenance meds and start rebuilding her life and credit.

This is her and everything she owned as we left her hotel room for the final time on Valentine's Day 2022.

The cat there is Bailey, her constant companion since they adopted each other in September 2021. They've both been through a lot and are absolutely the picture of "Who rescued whom?"

We started having biweekly dinners and I worked with her creditors and tried to get her credit score back into a good place, and helped her get banked and fixed up with access to the Internet and just help her feel more solid and stable in her life.

Just over 2 years later, in February 2022, we were finally able to get her into a senior independent living apartment, her first permanent home since about 2017. She had no furniture, but with some secondhand pickups and occasional pickups, we got her something resembling a home.

It wasn't perfect, and she had her grumbles, certainly, but it was her home. It was a place that she could launch from to recover and consider moving some place even better, if she chose.

However, Friday, July 14, Bailey had an afternoon vet appointment. Everything was fine when we left, but when we got home, with Bailey in a carrier in the backseat, we were shocked to see what looked like a million emergency vehicles & a whole lot of seniors sitting on the grass.

Chris and Bailey came with me to take my daughter into the city that evening, giving the situation 2 hours to develop and for us to get more information. We heard a few newsradio updates and saw this story on abc7, getting the sinking feeling that that balcony looked too familiar.

When we got back from the city, we were able to drive around the back of the building and confirm that this was her apartment.

We were able to get back to the building on Tuesday and get into the apartment to get her medications, but everything is water damaged from the sprinkler system (with all of its stagnant water) and the firehoses. All her furniture. All her clothes. Her bed. Her degrees. Gone.

Everything she owned is gone. She literally owns less now than when she was homeless. She's despairing and trying her best to keep it together, but she's lost so many homes in her life, going back to when she was 17 and her parents found out she is gay and kicked her out.

This all feels like too much. Please help. Please donate what you can, and share where you're able.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/fire-took-chris-baileys-home-they-need-help

[play-rough]

Happy Birthday Dazai 🥺🤧🩵

I really wanted to have the next classification au finished by Dazai’s birthday, but it just didn’t happen rip

So here’s a chunk of chapter one under the readmore instead! Since it’s a wip, everything below is subject to change 🩵 tw for child abuse and s/h (i know it’s Dazai but it’s more directly referenced idk idk) also let me know if something is incomprehensible because now’s the time to fix it haha 🩵🩵

Thanks everyone for enjoying and encouraging my work 🩵 I hope we have all have a wonderful Dazai birthday celebration 🩵🎉

The first thing that Dazai hears is the sound of writing tools scratching against papers. Someone is at a desk working.

Dazai whines, tongue pressing against something rubber on the edge of his mouth. He recognizes his pacifier after a second, almost falling out. With a quick flick of his tongue, the soother is back in Dazai’s mouth, and he clamps his teeth around it to keep it in place.

The pen against the table paper is a nice soundtrack while Dazai sucks on his pacifier. He feels small, but also something else. More detached than he’s been before, but weirdly less panicked.

He’s not sure who’s writing at the desk, and logically he knows that if he’s resting on a couch, and there’s someone writing at a desk, he could be in Mori’s office.

For some reason, that’s not something that worries Dazai right now, and opening his sleepy eyes a bit to observe his surroundings proves him right. He is in an office, but the Port Mafia’s boss isn’t the one working quietly.

A familiar orange floods Dazai’s vision, and he doesn’t even have to focus and pay attention to know it’s Chuuya.

Dazai whimpers softly, and holds out grabby hands towards the direction of the sounds. The only thing Dazai hears is a soft sigh, but no chairs scraping against floors or footsteps towards a sad baby.

His arms start to get tired, and cold, so Dazai tucks them back against his side. He whines louder instead, hoping to snag Chuuya’s attention.

“Dazai,” Chuuya huffs. “I played with you all morning.”

Dazai bites his pacifier, and then he opens his eyes fully to look at Chuuya.

Chibi is hunched over a desk that’s piled several feet high with paperwork. Despite seeing this, Dazai can’t stop himself as he mewls out another whimper being his paci.

“Dazai.” Chuuya says sternly, and it causes any remaining sounds to die in his throat. “I’m busy. Can’t you go bother someone else?”

He can’t, Dazai only wants Chuuya. His mind is full of memories of being held and rocked to sleep. It makes Dazai wonder why he’s ever fought regressing so hard in the first place. Chuuya’s hands make him feel like jelly, and Dazai can’t help but melt and become putty in his grasp. It’s so nice, and Chuuya feels so warm and safe.

Dazai can’t help but let out another sad whine.

“Fuck, fine,” Chuuya grumbles out, and he couldn’t possibly sound less enthusiastic. Dazai is suddenly sitting in his lap in the blink of an eye, but there’s no back pats or rocking, to his disappointment. “Just stop crying, you’re giving me a headache.”

Dazai can’t stop, he just got started, and doesn’t Chuuya know how long his tantrums go on?

“Stop, I’m holding you aren’t I? Would you rather have a time out?”

That makes Dazai freeze in place, he hates timeouts. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of boredom and loneliness, so he bites down on his pacifier and grips Chuuya’s shirt, willing the crying to stop.

Dazai can’t, though, as hard as he tries the tears keep coming, and he can’t calm down. Especially not with Chuuya shouting every five seconds.

“Just stop, Dazai,” Chuuya snaps. “You’re being a nuisance!”

The harsh words sting, and also come with a sudden shove. Dazai tries to hang on to Chuuya, but the shirt slips from his grasp, and he falls off of his caretaker’s lap and into inky darkness.

The falling sensation seems to last forever, until Dazai finally opens his eyes with a frantic gasp. He can’t breathe for a good few moments, struggling for air as his stomach flips. It takes an embarrassing amount of time to put together that he’s had a nightmare.

Dazai lays on his bed for a long time, chest hiccupping and stuttering uncontrollably. He feels like crying, no doubt leftover feelings from his dream.

He breathes unsteadily, in and out around his pointer and index finger, nibbling softly at his nails. Dazai must have slipped his fingers into his mouth at some point during the nightmare.

At least, Dazai hoped it was during the nightmare, and he hadn’t slept with his fingers in his mouth all night. He was dreaming of sucking on a pacifier, and the shame he feels tells him that he’s probably been doing this for a while.

Indulging this isn’t going to get him anywhere, it’s his worst habit. While comforting temporarily, it ultimately just makes him feel closer to headspace. Counterproductive, Dazai doesn’t want to drop, so he needs to get his fingers out of his mouth.

Despite telling himself this, Dazai has to forcibly take his hand away, and he definitely feels the loss of comfort when an emptiness washes over him. Stupid. Dazai is so pathetic and stupid.

It’s morning, and his whole day is already ruined by a stupid dream. Dazai feels empty and clingy, a familiar feeling that makes him want attention.

Staring up at the rusty ceiling, his eyes follow a small leak. A drip of water falls a few inches from his head every few moments, and Dazai watches it like seconds ticking away on a clock.

This gets boring very quickly, and boredom only lets Dazai’s thoughts run wild. His nightmare is the only thing in the front of his mind.

You’re being a nuisance!

Dream Chuuya was right, of course. Dazai was a nuisance.

Even if in his dreams he doesn’t remember, Dazai knows why he has to fight it, why he can’t just let go and trust Chuuya will catch him every time he falls.

Chuuya’s not going to be around forever. Flashes of Dazai being shoved away, Chibi’s look of disgust as Dazai calls out for his attention. It reminded Dazai of the face Chuuya made when he bit Tsu. Chuuya is capable of disgust and rage and loathing and Dazai knows one day this softness will end. His partner will grow tired of how difficult he is. Everyone eventually figures out that Dazai isn’t worth the time, the effort, or the headaches.

Dazai rolls over in a huff, hoping to end this train of thought. Wallowing in self pity was another terrible quality of his.

When Dazai’s ear hits the mattress, an uncomfortable ache travels down the side of his face. The pain is a surprise, but it’s also incredibly fast, leaving almost as soon as it starts.

Once that’s over, Dazai still can’t get comfortable. His next distraction is a crawling feeling across his skin. It’s not the worst pain he’s ever felt, but it’s enough to make him forget about his ear for now.

Dazai is no stranger to feeling uncomfortable in his skin, and usually the bandages help. Dazai’s arms are a mess, nights spent doing things he doesn’t want to think about and then weeks following picking things back open whenever he gets nervous. The soft bandages at least keep the sensitive injured skin from rubbing against clothing.

But today, it feels like electricity is sparking up and down every inch of himself, and the bandages itch horribly. Dazai runs a palm up and down his forearm roughly, and it helps the icky feeling for a moment.

Just a moment, though. The second Dazai stops scratching it comes back, maybe even worse than before with the added irritation from disturbing injuries under the bandages.

Everything is uncomfortable this morning. Even the bits of sunlight peeking through cracks in his crate, shining and hitting his eyes. Dazai squints and whines, rubbing his eyes, and then scratching at his other arm.

These bandages are a few days old. Chuuya is always harping on him to change them, and Dazai does. But he’s also thrifty, and a recycler, so there’s a lot of flipping and rewrapping going on. He probably just needs to rewrap his arms and change into something fresh.

Changing his bandages isn’t as easy as it sounds, though. For one thing, Dazai is pretty sure he’s out, so he’s got to get more from the store. Before he can even get to the store, he’s got to get up and get out of bed. Getting out of bed seems impossible. It’s cold.

Really he should just be glad that he doesn’t have to drag himself to the Port Mafia today. He should have been able to lounge in bed all day, recover from a restless night of tossing and turning through nightmares. It’s just his luck that a day when he should be free to lay in bed all day is halted by a need for something stupid like bandages. This is another problem that Dazai has created all by himself, he can’t stop fucking things up, and he can’t avoid punishment, but he’s not responsible enough to keep some stupid bandages around.

Dazai really isn’t good for anything, a barely functioning burden on everyone. He’s a nuisance.

It’s that hatred burning in his tummy that finally gets him to throw the blanket off of himself in a sudden motion, letting it slump onto the floor. From there, a full body shiver sparks up and down his thin form, and it’s a good thing he’s alone. His body lets out a pathetic whimper, and that’s the cherry on top of Dazai’s motivation-cake to get moving. The sooner he gets his bandages, the sooner he can lay down again.

Dazai considers changing his clothes before heading out, last night ended with him falling asleep in his dress pants and white button up again. But, a new set of clothes would be cold, his body heat has made these ones just barely tolerable. It seems pointless when Dazai already had his shoes on, it’s easier just to throw Mori’s coat over his shoulders and leave.

At least if Dazai is walking, he’ll be warmer.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Dazai’s container is out of the way of pretty much everything. This is of course, by design. If Dazai wanted to be within easy access, he’d just live in the Port Mafia dorms. Or better yet, sleep under Mori’s desk, so the boss could use him as a footrest.

No, the shipping container is safe and hidden in plain sight. Surrounded by hundreds of others that look just like it, miles and miles from the Port Mafia.

Also several miles from the nearest drug store.

Actually, there’s one about a mile away from the shipping yard, but if Dazai is spotted there enough, you could theorize that he lives in that surrounding area. That was far too close for Dazai’s comfort, he always tried to avoid the stores that would be considered in his ‘neighborhood.’

He started today off terribly, letting himself be bothered by a stupid nightmare. Dazai should have never left his bed, and this is evident on the walk to the store. Every step makes Dazai’s skin hurt even worse, the cold biting and the textures of his clothes chafing.

Scratching is really all he can do, even if the relief is quickly fleeting. Dazai isn’t sure how long he has to walk, but his joints feel sore. The air is dry, and it makes him realize that at some point his sinuses have begun to hurt. Dazai swallows, feeling his ears pop.

That’s how Dazai continues on all the way to a drug store about a half a mile from the Port Mafia. Swallowing and scratching, willing all these uncomfortable feelings to go away. Dazai brings a hand up to tug on one of his ears as he enters through the automatic doors, hopefully the swap from outside dry air to inside artificial air will help.

Tugging on his ear certainly doesn’t, and Dazai winces at another uncomfortable pop that makes his jaw ache, and goes back to scratching his forearms instead.

The store was big, and there was no large blinking arrow directing Dazai to the bandages. Frankly stupid design choice, and Dazai suddenly remembers his hatred for being out in public.

A store clerk looks like she’s about to acknowledge Dazai, perceiving him even, and he makes a beeline for the back isles. If he walks with purpose, she will assume he doesn’t need help.

Dazai may need help though, because by some miracle he’s found the medical section, with every kind of dressings and ointment except for his. Only the sticky bandages seem to be sold at this drug store.

He searches through surrounding isles, and he’s starting to get a bit frustrated. An ugly feeling sparks in his chest and makes his stomach churn, his face is starting to feel hot and he wants to stomp his foot when something catches Dazai’s attention instead. It’s a colorful display of pastels out of the corner of his eye.

Dazai came here for a reason. He needs bandages. But he’s only been awake for a few hours and today is already so hard, so Dazai’s discipline and focus maybe isn’t the best right now.

There’s a display of baby blankets at the end of one of the isles. Dazai is frozen in place, staring at them. For a moment, it feels like the world stops, until his arm starts itching again.

That’s right. Bandages.

Dazai can feel his cheeks flushing as he stares at the blankies, a different uncomfortable warmth that makes him squirm in shame instead of wanting to throw a fit. He needs to keep looking for bandages, he’s not here to waste time, but he can’t turn his attention away.

He can’t stop himself, his body moves on its own as he takes a few steps towards the display. The blankets look soft. There’s all kinds of colors, but right in front of Dazai is a pastel pink.

Dazai does not have a favorite color. Sometimes if he’s given choices between objects, he goes for a blue, like Chuuya’s eyes. Or, since he really can’t be bothered, he chooses whichever item is closer.

Dazai has never really had the opportunity to choose a pastel pink, and now it’s also the closest one right in front of him. The color was… sweet. It made Dazai think of starfish, and strawberries, and other things that make him feel mushy inside.

Before he knows it, Dazai has spent who knows how long trembling in front of the blankets, like a starving animal looking at food in an obvious trap. Dazai can feel how hot his face is, and he knows he must be beet red. He needs to leave, Dazai has no business standing here in front of a blankie display, but his feet are glued into place.

Dazai isn’t sure what he should be more ashamed over, the fact that he’s wasted so much time fawning over a stupid object, or the fact that the object in question was a pink blanket.

It almost makes him want to throw up thinking about it. It looked like something Mori would get for Elise, a frivolous waste. Dazai was better than that, he didn’t need anything like blankets and toys.

Fishie didn’t count.

He doesn’t dare to reach out and touch the item. If he did, Dazai knew it would all be over. It’s tempting just to flip it over, and view the price, but he knows better.

How expensive could a piece of fabric even be? It’s not like Dazai doesn’t have the money. And blankets are a normal thing to own, not just for babies.

Chuuya owns blankets. Lots of them. Dazai has one blanket, and it’s pretty threadbare, so one could even argue that he was just getting some home necessities. That’s not a crime.

Dazai entertains this idea for half a second, but it’s quickly tossed aside. A small baby blanket isn’t going to make a difference on the cold windy nights. There’s no point.

Besides, this thing was so pathetic, and if Dazai wants to be seen as an adult, he needs to act like one. If Chuuya found out he bought a blankie, Dazai would never hear the end of it.

Of course, he could always keep it hidden under his mattress. The Slug would never know, and then Dazai would have something to cuddle at night in his container.

Dazai’s stomach flips, realizing where his thoughts had gone. Not okay. He quickly pinches himself, up near his inner elbow, for some kind of negative reinforcement. Punishment is the only way he learns.

Dazai doesn’t need something to cuddle at night, just like he doesn’t need to suck on his fingers, and he doesn’t need to regress.

Not to mention that if someone saw him, word would get back to the boss so fast. He could always say it was a gift for Elise, but then Dazai would have to give her his blankie. It’s an unfortunate series of events that makes him feel nauseous just thinking about it.

Dazai’s arms start itching again, and he doesn’t hesitate to scratch them. His joints have started to hurt again too, but he’s probably just tired from another restless night, and walking a few miles to the store didn’t help.

His nails rake up and down his arm, and then Dazai swaps hands after a moment. His cuts are starting to burn, and it makes Dazai want to itch them even more, but with every scratch it just gets worse and worse and worse.

He needs to stop. Something is gonna open up, and then Dazai is going to start bleeding. He’s going to have to deal with the eyes on him as he buys new bandages while actively spotting through his current ones.

If he gets blood on the blanket, he’ll have to buy it.

Dazai can’t entertain that string of thoughts for too long, because his phone suddenly goes off in his pocket. He answers quickly, in case it’s Mori, but the butterflies in his chest tell him it’s Chuuya.

I’m making a new pasta sauce recipe, if you want to try it.

Dazai has never been more thankful for Chuuya’s incredible timing (not even when Slug has shielded him from stray bullets). He’s invited over.

He doesn’t need an invitation, Dazai can do anything he wants, including showing up at Chuuya’s house unannounced. But the fact that he’s got a reminder that Chuuya doesn’t actually hate having him around temporarily makes him forget about his itchy skin and pressured sinuses.

This shopping trip has been a complete disaster, and Dazai hasn’t even figured out where his bandages of choice are kept in this stupid store. He couldn’t get past the stupid fucking blankets.

Without thinking about it, Dazai shoves his hands into his pocket, and marches out. Deep down, he feared that if he hadn’t left at that moment, Dazai would be walking to Chuuya’s house with a blanket tucked in his arms.

Instead, it’s better to pretend that Dazai’s trip to the drug store never happened. Chuuya has bandages he can steal, and Dazai does not need a blankie under any circumstances.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

When Dazai slips into the apartment, he can immediately tell Chuuya is in the kitchen. Chuuya isn’t quiet when he cooks, he bangs pots and pans around and laughs and swears. It’s easy to sneak up on Chibi standing by his stove, stirring something in a pot.

Dazai wants to tease, or make some kind of joke about if Chuuya could even see over the stove, but it dies on his tongue as he watches his partner cook for a few seconds. Chibi looks horribly domestic, stirring the pot and tapping his foot while humming a song Dazai doesn’t recognize.

It suddenly hits Dazai again that all of this is fleeting, and the joke dies on his tongue.

At this moment, Dazai doesn’t want to ruin this, like he’s ruined so many things before. He’s feeling weirdly clingy, and he knows indulging this is a mistake, but right now the attention Dazai is vying for isn’t negative. Most of the time, anything will do. Dazai will take scraps and crumbs of whatever Chibi will throw at him until he’s kicked out.

Today, Dazai doesn’t want to be kicked out. His box is cold, he’s out of bandages, and his skin hurts. Dazai just wants to sit on Chuuya’s couch and enjoy the warmth of a blanket that he doesn't have to have a crisis over.

Dazai just watches, until eventually Chuuya looks back over his shoulder.

[reunioninn]

"Rescue!" Translation finished!

so i got just a liiitle distracted, but ive finally finished a translation of an entire chapter from the Guilty Gear XX Anthology Vol. 2 (Bros Comics) manga!

featuring anji, baiken, chipp, and robo ky (and a tiny bit of faust)!

it's 12 pages long, so ill be putting it under a readmore.

also my cleanup skills aren't the best. these raws were a bit of a pain to work with since the pages are a bit yellowed. hope it's not too bad.

enjoy!

i did my very best to make sure my translations were as faithful to the source and the characters' personalities as possible, but it's not perfect... still, im happy that its finished :)

also god translating "japanese" despite knowing the context feels SO racist. cries

[rosanna-writer]

Love at First Sight's for Suckers (2/5)

Summary: [A Feysand Newsies AU] Rhysand had a reputation. A big reputation. But fortunately for Feyre, a newsie selling papers on the streets of Velaris, tabloid gossip about the handsome, charismatic, hard-partying war-hero of a High Lord's heir means business is booming. That is, until the city's newspaper magnates get greedy, Feyre finds herself an unwitting labor leader at the center of a strike, and Rhys becomes an unexpected ally... Warnings: None

We're back with Feyre continuing to unwittingly make Rhys lose his mind in second part of my gift for @the-lonelybarricade for @acotargiftexchange! Thank you to @itsthedoodle for beta reading <3

Ch. 1 - Got a Feelin' 'bout the Headline | Ch. 2 - Beautiful. Smart. Independent.

You can read the second chapter Here on AO3 or under the readmore.

Feyre really didn't like the way that cop was looking at her. He'd already passed her corner once, and she'd forced herself to ignore him and just keep hawking papers. There were hundreds of lesser fae newsies just like her on the streets of Velaris—even though she was shouting headlines, she might as well have been invisible.

And when you were technically a fugitive, nothing less than invisible would do.

But something had made him turn around and come back. Lucien, at least, was long gone, back to his spot by the docks to finish work for the day. Feyre hoped he wouldn't come looking for her again; if she needed to bolt, Lucien couldn't travel through shadows, and Feyre would never, ever leave her best friend behind.

Recognition flickered in the policeman's eyes. He broke into a run, straight towards her. "Feyre Archeron!" he shouted.

Heads turned. Feyre's heart pounded. The faeries in the square turned their attention to her, putting it together that they had a criminal in their midst.

So Feyre became a shadow again.

To everyone else, it looked like she'd disappeared entirely. But Feyre had merely made herself impossible to grab, nothing more than a wisp of darkness, and she slid into the shadow that the nearby streetlight cast in the late afternoon sun.

She couldn't stay like this forever, so like a ghost, she passed through the solid walls and doors of the Rainbow. Feyre tried to ignore the pang of longing at the workshops and art galleries—there was no time to linger. The Rainbow had always been a safe haven, but there was one place in particular she knew she wouldn't be found.

Once she was backstage at Ressina's theater, Feyre let herself become corporeal again…only to be greeted by an ear-piercing shriek.

"High Lady! " Ressina cried. "Do you really have to do that right in the middle of my dressing room?"

"Sorry. Had a bit of an emergency, Mind if I hide out here for a while?" Feyre said.

Ressina smiled. "My favorite scenic designer can stay here as long as she likes."

Feyre leaned in and kissed the air just above both of Ressina's cheeks, careful not to touch the actress's heavy stage makeup. If Ressina hadn't been wearing an elaborate sequined costume, complete with feathered hat perched precariously on her head, Feyre would have given the female a hug.

"Painting a few trees hardly makes me a scenic designer."

"I made sure you're credited as one in the playbill. And we've been getting such good reviews, I can finally pay instead of owing you a favor. Rhysand and Morrigan are even in the audience tonight."

"Rhysand is…here?" Feyre almost didn't believe she'd heard correctly. As far as she knew, the prince spent his free time at parties and pleasure halls—not in small, lesser fae-run playhouses in out-of-the-way corners of the city.

Cauldron, did he even like musicals?

"Probably some arts patronage thing. Morrigan is on the board of damn near every charity in Velaris."

That made a bit more sense, Feyre supposed. It was common knowledge that Rhys and his cousin were close; perhaps she'd dragged him here. And regardless of why, the buzz from the prince's attendance would do wonders for ticket sales, and Ressina deserved that. In addition to performing, she owned the place, having built the business from the ground up herself. "That's fantastic news."

Ressina shrugged. "We'll see if anything actually comes of it. I don't count my dragons before they hatch. Intermission is almost over, but feel free to stay and watch the rest."

And with that, Ressina left. From previous experience, Feyre knew that backstage in the middle of a show was a busy place, so she crept up to the front of the house and hoped she could find an empty seat.

As she passed one of the private boxes, a familiar voice drifted through the open door. Feyre did her best to ignore the way her heart gave a traitorous little flip at the sound.

"Mor, are you positive that your contacts at the food bank will be prepared for the increased demand?" Rhys was saying.

That was…odd. Whatever this was about, he sounded deadly serious, not at all like a person who was out to enjoy a night at the theater. Feyre froze and strained to listen for Mor's reply, telling herself that obviously the matter was something of political importance if more people in Velaris were suddenly going to need assistance.

Yes, definitely that and not just her own inherent nosiness.

But Mor's reply never came. And neither did the chance to fade back into the shadows. When Rhys's voice drifted out from the open door again, his purr was unmistakably aimed at her. "Hello Feyre darling.

If he wasn't accusing her of anything, Feyre certainly wasn't about to apologize. "Twice in one day. Think it's fate?" she said evenly, letting her voice carry to him.

He materialized in front of her, leaning against the doorframe. At some point since that morning, he'd changed into a formal black tunic embroidered with silver swirls. Feyre found herself wondering idly if the design matched the Illyrian tattoos she'd never seen for herself—the Herald ran plenty of headlines about Rhys in compromising positions, but tragically, a picture of him completely shirtless had never made the front page.

But of course, Feyre was only thinking about that because the plunging neckline he'd worn last Starfall had sold out papers in record time.

"If it is, then I'm the luckiest male in the world." Something in Rhys's smile was just a bit too knowing. Feyre didn't like it.

But still, there was something comfortingly familiar about hearing more of his teasing. "It's nice to see you, too."

His voice floated into her head, which nearly made her jump out of her skin. Rhys had never used his daemati abilities on her before. You shouldn't be out here, not with the police still after you. The box is secluded enough to hide, and there's an extra seat. Join me.

For a long moment, Feyre just stared at him, blinking in surprise. She'd merely stolen a loaf of bread for Lucien in a moment of desperation when he'd spent several days too sick to work and her own earnings hadn't been enough to support them both. Avoiding arrest by fading into darkness hardly made her a notorious criminal, not when any other shadow-wraith could call upon the same abilities.

But Rhys knew. And Feyre couldn't fathom who might have told him or why he'd care. She didn't trust it. "You'll want something in return, won't you?"

"I might." He gave her another one of those annoying feline smiles. She scowled back.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Draw something for me on the blank newsprint in your bag, and we'll call it even."

Feyre had never heard him sound so earnest, and his violet eyes had gone soft in a way she'd never seen from him before, either. She couldn't shake the feeling she was missing something. "I— What? Why would you want that?"

"My walls are looking a bit bare. What better way to fix that than with something you made?"

More teasing, then. They were back on familiar ground, and Feyre would have thrown a punch—mocking her art was a low blow—if Rhys hadn't praised her work before. When they'd met, she'd been sketching the skyline over the Sidra on a spare bit of newsprint leftover at the end of the day. He'd asked if she was selling newspapers to pay for art school, and she'd laughed in his face.

But after that, he'd returned to buy the paper from her every morning without fail.

"Alright. It's a bargain."

Magic crackled in the air as the bargain tattoo appeared on Feyre's arm, a swirling design that covered everything from the elbow to the fingertips of her left hand. She'd spent her whole life in the Night Court; she knew what bargain tattoos were. But by the Cauldron was this one elaborate. And beautiful.

Rhys was looking at her as if he could hear her thoughts. Feyre frantically double-checked that her shields were up—it was so easy to forget she was in the company of a daemati. "You have an artist's eye. I hope it's up to your standards."

"Bargains go both ways. Where's yours?"

"If you're that curious, undress me and find out."

It must be exhausting, Feyre supposed, to go through life unable to stop flirting for more than a few minutes at a time. But then again, Rhysand never looked tired. "Will you manage to keep quiet during the show? Or am I going to hear you blathering on about how my eyes are like stars the entire time?"

"That's something else you'll have to find out for yourself."

Before Feyre could get another word in, he took her hand and tugged her into the box. The door snicked shut behind her on a night-kissed wind.

A blonde female Feyre only recognized from newspaper photos turned and smiled at them. Morrigan, Feyre realized. She'd heard Rhys use his cousin's name, but after shouting so many headlines about her, Feyre was still caught off-guard by the sight of the Morrigan in the flesh.

"You must be Feyre Archeron. I'm Morrigan, but call me Mor. It's so nice to finally meet you," she was saying, holding out a hand for Feyre to shake.

"Oh. Um. Hello," Feyre said. There was an awkward beat of silence as she tugged her hand—which was still in Rhys's—back so she could shake Morrigan's. "Nice to meet you, too."

There was more uncomfortable silence as Rhys and Mor just stared at each other, and several different expressions cycled across their faces in quick succession. At first, Feyre didn't know what to make of it. But then she realized they must have been speaking about something mind-to-mind. Whatever the topic was, it seemed…contentious.

And that had almost distracted her enough not to notice that Mor had said nice to finally meet her. Feyre couldn't imagine who could possibly have been speaking about her to Mor so frequently.

Rhys indicated for her to sit, and Feyre did. He was right about the box being secluded; the seats were set far enough back that she'd be difficult to spot if someone came looking for her. It put her at ease.

"Do you need something to write with?" he asked, dropping into the seat next to her and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Feyre always carried a pencil. She reached up under her cap and pulled it out of the messy bun it had been keeping in place all day. Her hair—light brown now that she was fully corporeal—tumbled down her shoulders. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Rhys staring at her, mouth slightly parted.

Before he had an opportunity to say something cutting, Feyre said, "You left a loophole, you know. I could just draw a line on the paper, and I'd keep my half of the bargain."

He shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to see what you'd do."

Feyre had no idea what to say to that. But at that moment, the lights dimmed, and Mor took a seat on Rhys's other side. Musicians began to play the opening notes of the entr'acte. Feyre tuned it out; she'd heard it enough times when she'd been painting sets during rehearsals.

The bigger question was what she was going to draw for Rhys. As a shadow-wraith, she could see perfectly in the dark theater, so there was nothing stopping her from spending the next hour perfecting a sketch. And uninterrupted time to work on her art was vanishingly rare.

But still, it was Rhys, so the temptation to draw the outline of a cock just to spite him was strong.

Even stronger, though, was the urge to sketch his face. Rhysand was without a doubt the most beautiful male Feyre had ever seen, and since the day they'd met, she'd been eager to try her hand at capturing his strangely sensual-yet-swaggering demeanor on canvas. But a prince could have his portrait done by any artist he liked, and Feyre doubted that he'd agree if he asked him to model for her.

So even though it was against her better instincts to do something that might inflate his ego, Feyre wanted to sketch a portrait of Rhys. To her surprise, he kept quiet and still, actually paying attention to the show.

It was the longest Feyre had ever seen him go without smirking. His features were soft, and she did her best to capture that instead of the smug mask he presented to the world. Something told her moments where he looked this unguarded were rare.

She finished just as the show ended and the lights brightened again. Before Rhys could see what she'd drawn, Feyre rolled up the portrait and held it out for him with a pointed look, daring him to unroll it and examine it in front of her. The bargain tattoo on her hand faded.

Wisely, he merely thanked her and tucked it into a pocket dimension.

"Feyre, the sets you painted look like dreamscapes," Mor said, brown eyes bright. If Feyre wasn't mistaken, that was admiration.

Feyre shrugged. "The actors just needed something pretty to stand in front of while they sing."

Mor locked eyes with Rhysand again, probably having another wordless conversation. Feyre took it as her cue to leave—she could easily slip into the crowd headed for the exit, then find Ressina backstage. But Mor let out a decidedly unladylike snort, squeezed Rhys's shoulder, and winnowed away.

Rhys looked at her, and something in his eyes pinned Feyre to the spot. "Will you allow me to walk you home?" he said.

***

Rhys wasn't entirely sure he was breathing as he waited for Feyre to answer. Not that it was the point, but he wasn't sure his already-bruised ego would survive slinking back to the House of Wind alone after he'd just urged Mor to leave him alone with his mate.

"Why?" Feyre said. At least it wasn't a no.

He slid his hands into his pockets, hoping he looked nonchalant. "Because I'd like to see you get home safely, and no one will bother you if you're with me."

She nodded once. "Alright."

"I can meet you at the stage door once you've gotten your coat."

"I— I don't have one."

He was pulling his own off the back of his chair and wrapping it around her shoulders before he knew what he was doing. This late in the year, Velaris was cold after dark. And perhaps it was reckless, but the risk of a few headlines about Feyre taking him home was worth making sure she didn't freeze.

At least she'd put her arms through the sleeves while she'd scowled at him, though.

Rhys looped his arm through hers and winnowed them outside to the street. Without thinking about it, he started walking towards the tenement she shared with far too many newsies crammed into the small space. Hopefully she wouldn't ask why he knew exactly where it was.

For a while, they said nothing, but to Rhys's immense pleasure, Feyre didn't pull away from him. The silence was comfortable, and for a moment, Rhys just let himself imagine that they were walking home at the end of a proper night out.

But he'd gone to Ressina's in hopes of finding Feyre there for a reason, so Rhys broke the silence. "In a turn of events, I have news for you this evening."

"Do you?" Feyre raised her brows expectantly.

"Starting tomorrow, the owners of Velaris's newspapers will increase the price they charge the newsies. Sixty cents per hundred."

Her hand tightened on his arm as Feyre's entire body went stuff. Their mating bond was still unaccepted—and therefore, faint—but Feyre's anger surged down it anyway. The force of it was nearly enough to knock him off his feet.

When Feyre spoke again, her voice was low and deadly. "Who told you?"

"I was there when they petitioned my father for assistance today. He said no, so they moved on to another strategy."

"And why are you telling me?"

"Because if this develops the way I anticipate it will, then I want to make sure you're the first to know that I won't be buying the paper from a scab. I'd publicly support a strike."

Feyre went quiet, and to keep himself from succumbing to the temptation to read her thoughts, Rhys forced himself to focus on the lights reflected on the river in the distance. Her fingers on his arm never relaxed.

"We don't have a union," she said eventually.

"Then consider this a head start to remedy that." If anyone could form one in a matter of hours, it was Velaris's High Lady. Rhys was sure of it.

"Thank you."

They lapsed back into silence again. Even if Rhys weren't a daemati, he'd be able to see the wheels turning in her head, just from the determined set of her chin and the way a muscle ticked in her jaw. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight.

All too soon, they arrived at Feyre's stoop. Before Rhys had a chance to insist she keep the coat, she shrugged it off and handed it to him. "I'm not a charity case," she said, as if she could hear his thoughts.

Rhys took the coat but didn't slip it back on. "I know better than to suggest you are."

"Good." Despite the cold, Feyre made no move to step inside. Rhys was torn between urging her to go warm up and wishing that she'd stay out here with him forever. Something in her face softened, and Rhys could almost fool himself into believing she'd let him kiss her goodnight after a night at the theater as he courted her properly.

But Feyre, he reminded himself, didn't want him like that.

Rhys started to say goodbye, but Feyre added, a bit more softly, "For what it's worth, you're going to be one hell of a High Lord one day, Rhys."

Maybe Rhys didn't have Feyre Archeron's heart, but he did have her respect. And maybe that mattered more.

"My father's not a dreamer, and the Night Court suffers for it. Good luck tomorrow."

Rhys refused to waste any more of her time; unable to resist preening for her just a bit, he stretched his wings out wide, then launched himself into the air to return to the House of Wind.

When Feyre had shown up outside the box, he hadn't been able to avoid telling Mor exactly who she was to him. And now, Rhys could practically feel his cousin's mind vibrating with curiosity as he reached for it. She reassured him—not for the first time that day—that Velaris's charities were prepared to handle an influx of newsies in need, and Rhys pointedly ignored his cousin's request for updates on what she'd termed the moonlit stroll with his mate.

Alone in his bedroom with the door firmly locked behind him, Rhys finally pulled the newsprint out of the pocket dimension. And if Feyre's art hadn't been so precious, he would have dropped it in shock.

She'd sketched him. There was something soft about Feyre's portrait that had been missing from the stiff, official ones he'd sat through with his family. It gave Rhys the strangest feeling that Feyre had seen something soul-deep within him and recreated it with a pencil on a spare bit of newsprint.

If the next day weren't likely to be long and uncertain, he would have spent half the night staring at it.

When he woke early the next morning, Rhys could still feel Feyre's anger simmering in the back of his mind. He resisted the urge to tug on the bond for reassurance she was alright—the last thing he needed was for her to feel the pull just behind her ribs and realize what it meant. So all he did was keep alert as he dressed, ate, and made his way to his father's study.

And as if on cue, when the High Lord's daily briefing was barely through, Pulitzer himself burst into the study. Darkness swirled around Rhys's father, dimming the room, a clear warning that the interruption was unwelcome.

"My apologies, High Lord, but it's urgent," Pulitzer said, bowing politely.

"What, exactly, is urgent?" Rhys's father snapped.

"The newsies of Velaris are forming a union. They intend to strike, and I'm here on behalf of the city's newspaper owners to ask for your support with breaking the strike."

Rhys stilled. For a long moment, the study went silent. The slight deepening of his father's frown—and the fact that a tendril of darkness hadn't already thrown Pulitzer from the room—made it clear enough that the High Lord was weighing his options.

"Who's their leader?" Rhys said, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

"An upstart shadow-wraith named Feyre Archeron. They call her the High Lady," Pulitzer said with a sneer.

Rhys felt a warm glow of pride—despite the darkness that rolled off his father in waves. The High Lord jealously guarded his power, and it seemed that even a poor lesser-fae female couldn't get away with a nickname he took as a threat or a jibe.

"You can't possibly—" Rhys said.

The High Lord cut him off. "What sort of support?"

"Police, if you can spare them," Pulitzer said.

Rhys stood so quickly, he nearly knocked over his chair. "There is no reason at all this needs to escalate to violence."

"As my heir," the High Lord said coldly, "you need to learn that in situations like this, it's necessary. If we make an example of the newsies, the rest of Velaris will hesitate to disturb the peace going forward. Pulitzer, you have all the crown's resources you need."

Pulitzer was bowing again and thanking the High Lord for his support, but Rhys hardly noticed. He was already storming off towards the Rainbow.

[fuckyeah-beringandwellsfics]

Hi! I'm not new to Myka and Helena, I remembered them from the 2010s and now watched the show just for them, but I am new to Myka and Helena fanfiction.

Do you know any more fics like this https://archiveofourown.org/works/957200?view_adult=true or vaguely like this?

Is there a big masterlist of good Myka and Helena fics? I've been reading through their tag on AO3, but there are 1600+ fics 😯 so it'll take me a while to read them. I'd like to read some good ones.

Hi and thank you for asking, anon! That fic is great, isn't it! (clickable version of the written-out link anon sent: Resigned to These Histories (We Exist) by journaliar/@snake-juice)

Anon, as far as I am aware, there is no *one* big masterlist.

Several people in this fandom have made their own rec lists over time, of course, from the very beginning. (The older they are, unfortunately, the higher the chance that some links might not work anymore, but you can still try them out!) I have a "fic rec" tag on my main blog (linked in case you want to know the source; that tag contains other fics too, not just Bering and Wells, but all of them femslash), and here are some Bering and Wells specific lists that I've found going through it:

styrofoamtokyo's list, from 2014

tracybering's list of Tracy Bering friendly fics and art, also from 2014

lonely-night's lists from 2017 and 2018

wibblywobblyida's list from 2021

There's also the Ballet AU, a collaboration with multiple fics and pieces of art, from several of this fandom's best authors and artists; highly recommended, masterpost here.

I'm sure there are more fic rec lists slumbering on people's blogs! So here's my call to anyone who sees this post: please link yours!

I myself am trying to assemble recs on an individual basis. Almost a year ago, I tried to make a list of what has been already recommended through this post, but now that is way out of date, of course.

Beyond these lists, the usual tips for AO3 and Tumblr apply (under a readmore for length):

when you found a fic you liked, click on the author's name and see what else they've written for the ship/fandom, see if you like those too

check if that author's bookmarks are public; those are fics that they liked, and maybe you'll like them too

and then with those fics, you can go to *those* authors' profiles and see what else *they* have written - and so on.

Don't forget to bookmark and/or download these fics so that you can find them again. You need to have a user profile yourself to bookmark fics (and that's not the only advantage; I highly recommend it - and remember, you can set your bookmarks to private if you want).

also, please please consider leaving kudos and comments on fics that you've liked - a lot of authors are still active in the fandom/for the ship, and kudos and comments always help us *stay* active, because they tell us that people still enjoy what we create. Even if the specific fic in question is from the early days of the fandom, kudos and comments are always welcome.

same goes for reblogs on Tumblr, be it the above lists, individual fic rec posts, or posts from the authors themselves with or about their stories.

some authors with a Tumblr blog also have a dedicated "my fics" tag or link on those blogs. Always worth clicking through from an individual Tumblr post to the author's blog, and seeing if something like that is on it - and if the author is still actively writing, consider giving them a follow (and reblogging their fic posts; I've heard from so many authors that their fic posts barely get any reblogs at all to spread the word)

I hope that all or at least some of these tips are helpful to you, Anon - there is a lot of great stuff out there, and you're right, it can be a bit daunting to figure out where to start. And hey, it's always okay to click back out of a fic you find you don't like. No harm no foul, even if the fic came recommended; everyone's taste is different! There is no "required reading" that you *have* to have done to be a fan. You already are, no matter how many fics you've read!

[emjiroki]

Omegaverse *and* tribal au just the thought has me freaking drooling...... and the world building opportunities that secondary genders could bring in to tribal life like just imagining all the ways it could work is so cool!

Also just like. Enji in leather and jewelry and nothing else... Enji in the firelight under a full moon... Enji with tattoos that celebrate his successes... Enji scooping you up and carrying you to somewhere at least passably private to fuck your brains out....... 🥺😳👉👈

AAAAAAHHHHHH okay yes this has been making me crazy!!!! (Disclaimer the only reason the tribal au headcanons weren't Omegaverse was because a nice anon asked if I could make the headcanons regular, I totally understand that Omegaverse is not for everyone! BUT NOW I HAVE A GREAT EXCUSE TO GO FERAL) sorry it took so long everyone I hope you enjoy

Link to the non a/b/o tribal headcanons

18+ ONLY below the readmore

Your courtship was short, a week at the gathering before you agreed to travel back with him to the mountains and only a month before he publicly proclaimed before his tribe council that he, their Chief, would be taking you as his mate and future bride

Enji knows you're his fated mate from the moment he sees you. He always kind of knew his former omega wasn't it, inspite of the arranged marriage. After she had left back to her home tribe he really thought he'd never find love again, until he met you at one of the large tribe gatherings during the harvest season. Your scent drew him in like a moth to a flame and he knew you were his

He did his best to keep to tradition and not copulate with you until your bonding ceremony, so the foreplay was almost constant. He was barely in the mindset for meetings with his tribe members or any sort of celebrations or other important ceremonies, his mind constantly fixated on stretching you on his fingers and drinking your slick down like ambrosia. Your cries of pleasure were like angels singing in his ears and could be heard very clearly to anyone straying too close to his hut. Unfortunately for them...

The first full moon of the summer season finally came your bonding ceremony, he had discussed his tribal traditions with you before hand to make sure you were comfortable and that you weren't caught off guard due to the nature of the ceremony. The beginning was simple, Enji slaughters a goat for a blood sacrifice in your honor and the Shaman paints the blood across you and Enji’s chest first, across your heart for eternal love and across your face and eyelids to ward off negativity and evil. But the second half of the ceremony after your marital beads are place around your throats is the part he tried to make you comfortable with

The tribe council has to be present for the official bonding and first knotting, to at least see you connected and bonding marks fresh bleeding. It made you a little uneasy at first, but with Enji being as aggressive as he is they all kept their eyes to the floor as he shielded you from their view.

He was delicate as he laid you against the fur bedding, whispering reassurance and promises against your skin as he breached your virgin entrance for the first time. The combination of your scents and smell of your blood staining his cock had him nearly going feral but he kept himself steady so he didn't hurt you. It was the last thing he ever wanted to do. "I love you, so much. Endless as the river my sweet omega" he whispers as he kisses the overwhelmed tears from your cheeks. And you believed him, could feel it through the grip of his fingers laced with yours above your head as he began to move and fuck into your soft body. It took a few minutes to adjust to his size but soon you were calling for more, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him into you until his flushed head was tapping your cervix with every thrust of his hips.

Enji was coming to his end just as soon as he expected, your tightness milking everything from him until he was dizzy with your sweet scent flooding his senses. He was holding back drool as he watched your eyes roll back and your pretty swollen lips part in ecstasy. "A-Alpha I'm-" "Cum for me love, let me feel you so I can give you everything" with a strangled and barely coherent cry you were tensing and squeezing around him so hard it nearly forced him out until one of his strong hands locked your hips into place as he growled deeply and released into your warmth, his knot sealing your entrance to keep his cum inside.

With aftershocks of your orgasms racking our bodies you two sealed the bond, your mating marks red, raw, and prominent against your throats as you tasted each others blood. Everything felt calm and peaceful after the bond was set, the pheremones calming and instincts feeling the rightness of everything settling in. The council was all but forgotten about until the motion of them leaving the hut had Enji snarling and holding you close to his body protectively, your blood staining against his chin and bringing forth the true animal version of his instincts that had your inner omega preening and purring against his strong chest.

After a moment you could hear the tribe cheering from the news of your consumation, the great bonfire starting and soon the smell of roasting meat reached your hut and your growling stomachs. "As soon as the knot releases we can join the celebration if you'd like" he says quietly as he strokes his fingers along your spine in a soothing pattern, your own fingers tracing the tattoos along his chest and arms, his many years of success telling stories across his skin. "I'd like that, but could we spend a bit longer in here together, just us?" You asked, feeling vulnerable after your private moment. "Of course, anything for you" he says with a rumbling purr, nosing against his mating mark, "my beloved mate and soon to be mother of my pups".

If anyone has anymore Tribal au thoughts or requests send them my way because I love this au!!! Doesn't have to be omegaverse btw

[pixiel]

Tumblr Post Width & More (OTD+ Userstyle)!!

Finally out of Alpha and available to the public! This Usersyle REQUIRES the use of Old Tumblr Dashboard (Userstyle) and must be manually edited to work!

You need to have Stylus installed. So if you don't have it:

Install the Stylus Firefox Addon or the Chrome Extension (You can install Chrome Extensions on Edge as well)

Once it's installed into Firefox/Chrome/Edge you can proceed with adding this style or any other.

Make sure Old Tumblr Dashboard (Userstyle) is installed and on!

To add the style, follow the instructions:

Go to this link: https://userstyles.world/style/15745/tumblr-post-width-more-otd-userstyle

Click on "install".

Style will open a tag with it and in the left side you'll have a button that says "install style", click there. (Step-by-step copied from the lovely dorothyoz39 who wrote this in a reply!)

Be sure to check for updates regularly and if you'd like, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi https://ko-fi.com/pixiel !

To update click the Manage button on Stylus and click the check for update button below then click again to install!

!!!BEWARE!!! updating will reset your settings so be sure to note them down before updating!!!

First Update: 20/06/24, 20:16PM BST V8.0

Make sure you're on at least version 12.5 of OTD v8.0: This userstyle is finally available publically and out of Alpha testing! It may still have a few bugs or issues.

THE CREATOR OF THIS USERSTYLE SUPPORTS THEIR TRANS SISTERS. WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER!

Check the readmore for the instructions on how to manually edit the userstyle, the changelog, & known issues!

----- .:How to customise the Userstyle:.

Each setting is labelled with instructions on what numbers to change, as well as containing a default number if you wish to reset the changes you have made, or can't remember what it used to be.

Make sure to read each instruction carefully before editing the userstyle!

Example:

This is the setting for the Global Content feed positioning, right now it is set to 0, the default position - Which looks like this;

The instructions suggest that if you change the number to a higher positive number it will move the content of the page to the right! Like so;

likewise, if I make the number a negative number by adding the minus symbol ( - ) I can move the contents of the page more to the left. Like so;

Some settings already have a default number, for example;

This setting changes the width of posts when viewing it as a pop-over. As you can see there is the same number in both Flex-basis as well as next to Default: in the notes (all notes are within /* These tags */ ) This is the default number that is the recommended basic setting to use, if you want to return to Tumblr's normal size!

If you want to make the view post bigger! You can increase the number in Flex-basis, here I have changed the number to say flex-basis: 1377px !important;

Wow! So wide! But what happens if you change the number to be below the default number? Here I've changed it to 577px!

Oh. Oh dear. Perhaps the default number is actually pretty important...

Below where it says /*EXPERIMENTAL Features - May have issues*/ is a lot of, well, experimental features! This includes the Communities pages, Labs Patio, Icon hider, as well as the Masonry Search view! These features currently work but may have a few bugs or be broken by Tumblr updates.

Make sure not to touch any of the code under where it says; /*Dont Touch below code*/

And I hope this helps you understand how to customise OTD+!

-----

Known issues:

The settings page looks weird, this is to make it so the textbox actually scales with the width changes without looking Awful.

Search bar moves out of place sometimes when using No Sticky Header! Working on finding a way to fix this.

[percy-and-rachel-events]

Perachel Bingo Week F.A.Q.

Q: What is Perachel?

A: It's the romantic relationship between Percy Jackson and Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

Q: I prefer to make fanworks of them as friends. Is that allowed?

A: Absolutely! Just make sure that Percy & Rachel's friendship is the focus of the fanwork.

Q: When is the event?

A: It's seven days long! July 28th, 2024 to August 3rd, 2024.

Q: How does a bingo week work?

A: I have provided prompts, link here. For everyday you participate, you create one work based on one of the prompts on that list! Totally up to you which ones to choose. You must use a different prompt everyday, no repeats.

Q: Do I have to participate everyday and make 7 works?

A: Absolutely not!! However many works you want to make is fine! If you just want to do one, that's great! If you want to do all 7 that's amazing!

A: ...For the one insane (/affectionate) friend who said they wanted to do all 12... you are one of a kind. Please take care and don't burn out. The point is to have fun, not to stress!

Q: What if I don't finish in time?

A: I will leave the ao3 collection open and continue reblogging fanworks on tumblr until August 10th.

Q: Where is the ao3 collection? How do I add my fanwork?

A: Its right here. To add your work to the collection, when you're about to post it to ao3, scroll to Associations -> "Post to Collections/Challenges" and type in: Perachel_Bingo2024 as shown below.

Q: I want you to reblog the works I made for this event! Why didn't you?

A: I want to reblog them! Just make sure you follow the regulations on content.

Q: What are the regulations on content?

1. The focus of the fanwork must be on Percy and Rachel. 2. No Percy Jackson or Rachel Elizabeth Dare bashing. This is a hard rule that will be enforced. If I see bashing, I will remove the works from the ao3 collection and I will not reblog it here. 3. NSFW content is allowed, however it must be appropriately tagged here and on ao3. Additionally on tumblr all nsfw content must be hidden under a "read-more" to be reblogged on his account. That is another hard rule. This event is open for all ages, and I hope to provide a safe space for everyone.

Q: What does Rachel or Percy bashing mean?

A: Bashing for this event will be defined as inventing qualities etc. to hate on the characters [Percy or Rachel] and not giving them any redeeming qualities to balance it out.

Q: Does that mean I can't write any tragic stories where they die/suffer?

A: Tragic stories and sad endings are absolutely allowed!! I just don't want Percy or Rachel to be morally demonized. As long as you steer clear of that, you're good!

Q: How do I insert a "read-more" on laptop and mobile?

A: On laptop web, when you start a new line you'll see these icons (in the pic below). Click the grey one on the far right, with the squiggly line instead the two straight horizontal lines. The "read-more" should pop up immediately!

A: On mobile, type :readmore: . No spaces, just the colons plus the letters. It won't pop up immediately; but it should show up when you save as draft, queue or post.

Q: What kind of fanworks can I make?

A: Anything! Fanfics, fanart, moodboards, poems, playlists etc. If it's made/complied by you and complies with tumblr and ao3's rules, then you can submit it!

Q: Is there a minimum or maximum wordcount for fanfics?

A: Nope! Want to challenge yourself and write a 50 word mini fic? Go for it! Your one-shot spiraled into a novella? Please share, I'd love to read it!

Q: You didn't choose the 12 most popular prompts from the poll results!

A: Nope! 4-5 prompts were already chosen, regardless of the poll! The other 7-8 were determined by the most popular poll results. That's the perk of running the event, I get to decide everything :)

Q: I have more questions that aren't answered here.

A: My inbox is open. Feel free to ask! :)