#MY GRANDPARENTS ARE NOT

[anotherpapercut]

just had an absolutely sickening conversation with a 20 year old I work with wherein I had to impress upon her that her and her friends need to be extremely cautious going to the gay clubs right now with increasing attacks happening. make sure any very young, very newly adult queer people in your life know that we're a family and community and part of that is being willing to fight for your siblings lives if they're under attack. even if it's a person you despise, you stick up for your family and they will stick up for you. we are all we have. the cops refuse to help, and so do most people outside the community. we cannot survive without each other

[akaanonymouth]

What is it about fics then, where characters always, ALWAYS, have a spare toothbrush conveniently just hanging about in bathroom cupboards for that time someone is, usually unexpectedly, staying the night?

I have lived a few decades now, and I have never known anyone who keeps spare toothbrushes. Is it really common??

[thesummerestsolstice]

I love it when Elrond is portrayed as someone who is a little bit incomprehensible to most of the elves at first. Not even just because he's a half-elf, but because he reminds them all of so many other people, and that layering can be kind of jarring.

He sings beautifully, with a voice that sounds like no elf or man, and it reminds many of the Sindar of Luthien. It reminds some of the Noldor of someone else, another singer with raven-dark hair and starry gray eyes.

The braids he does his hair in– and he always keeps it braided at first, because letting it run loose is another thing that makes people whisper of Luthien– are in the traditional Noldor style. The survivors of Gondolin love that; Turgon always wore his hair in classical styles too. The other part of the House of Finwe that clung to traditional braids goes unmentioned. But everyone knows.

And he was clearly taught about court manners; taught to be gracious and charming, and a very good listener. The elf who could have taught Elrond those things is usually skipped over entirely, in favor of those reminiscing about Idril's graceful poise or Melian's endless patience.

He looks very much like Luthien, but there is a particular Finwean sharpness in his facial structure; something that makes him look a lot like Fingolfin, as well. Fingolfin looked very much like his father. And his older brother.

His smile is just like Earendil's (whose smile is just like Tuor's), and his strange, birdlike laugh is from Elwing. He fights and writes with his left hand– but then, so did Earendil, because while all elves are right-handed, not all humans or half-elves are. He eats no meat– just like Beren, they say, but the way Elrond tells it the choice had nothing to do with that history. There is ainuric power in him and something very human in the set of his shoulders. The flowers grow around any place he stays long enough. He gets sick in a way no elf, and certainly no maia, ever would. His accent is odd, and archaic, and changes noticeably when he's too tired to obscure it. His mannerisms are a mixture of about twelve people, almost all of whom are dead, and several of whom are not spoken of by the time he shows up in Gil-Galad's camp.

And the reflections of Elrond unsettle a lot of people; because one moment they see a fallen hero or loved one, and the next they see the person that took them. Or perhaps someone else, that they never knew at all. There is reverence and fear and uncertainty. It's messy.

Elrond himself is coming to peace with this by the War of Wrath. There is love in carrying the parts of your ancestors with you, even when they aren't around any more. And he knows better than anyone that he is always himself, first and foremost. Still, it takes everyone else a while to stop seeing a ghost and start seeing Elrond.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 247

Danny grumbles, going limp as the Spirit plucked him up, holding him out like some sort of stray cat. Their golden eyes stared across him, white hair shimmering and bloodied feathers rustling as they tilted their head. 

“You sure he’s not somehow ours?” Bludhaven asks again, setting him down once more to circle. Amity laughs, wild hair the color of wheat fluttering in a non-existent breeze and portal pulsing like a heart as she rests a hand on his head. 

“Well darlin’, I am asking if you would be open to adopting,” the Spirit laughs, the sound as familiar as the birds outside his window in the mornings. “Well, I suppose I could always ask your dear sister Arkham-” 

“No no, I would be honored,” Bludhaven smiled a literally sharp grin, something mischievous and violent about it in a way Danny was slowly growing used to. “I’m just- look at the little ghostling! He looks like he could be from ours! My hair, your eyes… he’s just missing markings…” 

“Markings he’ll get once you give me an answer darlin’...”

“OH- Yes, of course! Sorry, I got whelmed there.” 

“You have been stalking your vigilante a bit too much there Blud.” 

[backjustforberena]

Corlys and Rhaenys at their daughter's wake, with their grandchildren. DO NOT REPOST.

[matchandelure]

ramune marbles

[sunnymainecoonx]

They are so old

[carpsoup]

this thang

[palipunk]

Watching liberal Zionists do their little #nakbaday acknowledgement and go back to their daily “well Israel deserves to exist” the jokes truly write themselves

[pigeon-noises]

Testing my new markers with Furina

[biboomerangboi]

Think we should actually talk more about Zuko and Aang being old men together. Like Aang is 112 and probably has like really old fashioned out of date things he’s really into and Zuko was literally surrounded on a boat by his uncle, the old dudes that worked for him and his uncles weird Pai Sho friends he’s raised to be a old man by like 20. I need the clearly teenage political leaders getting really defensive of an old person snack, have at least one piece of clothing they really like that’s like 100 years outta season and say phrases like “whipper snapper” unironically.

[macksartblock]

big W even bigger Ls

i had to call out of work due to pain so i'm subjecting you to a goof below

get homestucked

[brucewaynehater101]

AU - Ra's al Ghul being a grandfather to all of the Wayne kids

During their ongoing petty battles, Tim makes the mistake of calling Ra's "grandpa" as an insult. He meant it as a term to call the man old.

Ra's did not take it this way.

After being called "grandpa" by his rival/desired heir (pt. 3), he starts to wonder if all of Bruce's kids consider him to be their grandfather (they do not).

Cue Ra's al Ghul picking up grandparent guidebooks and trying to implement the advice. Because he's so out of touch with reality and society (he's a 600 year old assassin cult leader), he doesn't implement them correctly.

His go to method for hangouts with any of the Wayne kids is kidnapping. They don't know he's just trying to spend time with them. There's a ton of miscommunication.

Ra's quickly learns that if he has grandfather-grandchild time with Damian by himself, the Waynes.... overreact (they're not overreacting. They think Ra's is kidnapping Damian for some nefarious plot). Ra's then starts kidnapping Damian with one of his siblings for group hangouts.

He also will have grandfather-grandchildren days when Talia visits Bruce. He wants them to be able to spend time without the kids interrupting (even if the kids are in another country from Bruce, Ra's still kidnap them. Talia is also going to Bruce to beat him up for Damian instead of a date. Ra's thinks it's just their relationship dynamic).

The old man also spends a lot of time debating what makes someone a Wayne kid. Bruce's adoption habit makes this needlessly more difficult. He eventually lands on only considering those Damian claims as his siblings as his grandchildren.

It gets to the point that Ra's al Ghul even starts lecturing Bruce when he's being an ass to the grandkids.

How Ra's spoils his grandkids:

Damian - Ra's sets up a bunch of animal sanctuaries around the world. He takes the kid to all of them and seriously implements all of his ideas. He also sends him expensive, rare art supplies that can double as weapons (Damian thought the paints doubling as poison were fun to use).

Jason - The Outlaws get access to a bunch of weapons and gear. He also occasionally provides assistance or information.

Tim - Ra's doesn't do anything different. They already "hang out" a ton when Tim is in a petty and vindictive mood (Tim tries to fuck up Ra's day and the ancient bastard sees it as a bonding activity).

Cass - Ra's, after seeing that Cass sometimes experiences issues communicating with civilians, starts funding organizations that increase accessibility. He also attends every single recital she has.

Duke - Ra's provides access to his research material so that Duke might be able to find a way to help his parents. He also buys him really expensive glasses and blackout curtains to help with his migraines

Steph - The old man will gift wrap people who were shitty to Steph so that she can beat them up or get revenge. Her many hobbies (gaming, gymnastics, music, etc.) get funded as well.

Dick - Ra's either kidnaps Dick with a sibling he hasn't seen for a bit (allowing Dick to have quality time), or he'll enforce self care days for the acrobat.

Barbara - She is helped by the same organizations that help Cass, but Ra's usually just provides her with information the Birds of Prey can use.

[timdrakesbussy]

tfw you just figured out about your sexuality and your grandparents are (kinda) supportive.

(this is so stupid i’m sorry, i would draw it but i can’t 😭)

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

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

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

[pencildragons]

still insanely funny to me that ortus nigenad has canonically written 18 volumes of epic poetry about a bodyguard who was, in fact, Just Some Guy, and regularly quotes himself out loud in conversations on the regular. man had to die at the start of gtn because he was too fucking powerful to live