#this person is not a person I choose to be around

[teaboot]

I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?

Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.

Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.

Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.

Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.

Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.

Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.

Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.

Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.

Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.

Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.

Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.

Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.

Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.

Dont let them free roam. At all.

I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...

I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.

Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck

Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane

Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess

Here, have an Ollie Pic

[johnbrand]

Recycling

I watched as the next employee entered the chamber. He appeared a bit confused, probably having expected a conference room rather than the dark space with mirrored walls. By the look of it, he had no idea that any one of the panes were one-sided, hesitantly fidgeting with his tie as he announced his presence with a timid “Hello?”

I leaned into the microphone, “Good afternoon.” The nervous boy’s eyes dashed around the room, trying to identify the person speaking to him. His physical characteristics and mannerisms resembled a mouse, small and skittish.

“Am I supposed to be here?” he eventually replied, choosing the speaker above my viewpoint as his receptor.

“Yes, this is the meeting to discuss your annual review.” I replied. “You're in the right place, Mr. Donson. Would you like for me to refer to you by your given name?”

The boy shuffled anxiously, “Drayton is fine.”

Habitually, I continued. “I’m sure you're wondering why your annual review this year is different from those in the past. Don’t worry Drayton, you are still one of our top performers, and your review reflects your incredible performance.”

Feeling a delicate surge of confidence, Drayton let a smile sneak up onto his lips. Being clean shaven and still holding some baby fat, it frankly was quite endearing. Cute even.

“As you are already aware, our company has been having some financial issues recently. And as a high-ranking official in our accounting department, I am sure that you are more than knowledgeable on the details of this subject.”

Drayton’s youthful glee faltered for a moment.

“Unfortunately, we do not have the funds available to keep you on board and give you a raise,” I started. “The company would like to offer you a deal: in exchange for accepting a substandard review and a 19% decrease in pay, we will offer you external benefits.”

Shock emerged from Drayton’s face, “What benefits would be worth a fifth of my paycheck?”

“Unfortunately I am liable to disclose that information,” I robotically replied. “You can either accept or tender a resignation.” 

Drayton took a moment to decide, just like all the other employees typically did. But eventually, they all convinced themselves that losing employment at the company was the worse of the two options.

“I’ll accept.”

“Stand by.” I followed procedure, locking the exits and airways into the chamber. Once that was done, I began flipping the switches. Steam mechanisms, followed by audio machines, followed by visual projectors. I did not even pay attention to the squabbling accountant, panicking as his chamber was bombarded with smoke, abrasive phonics, and commands that flashed against the walls and reflected into every corner of the room. 

Thanks to the padding in my control room, I absorbed none of it. I simply ignored Drayton’s screams and opened my laptop, getting back to my own duties as the process did its work. With all the vapors, I typically could not witness any of the changes that happened anyway–which also meant I could never attest to possible allegations if our company did ever come under some sort of legal fire in the future. But sometimes I did spot little things, flashes of commands that were being ingrained into the employee. MASCULINE, TRADITIONAL, ATTENTIVE. The small letters would pulse by an instant, although they were meaningless to me within my enclosed accommodations.

Eventually, my timer went off, and I closed out of the procedure. I exited the program and flipped the switches back over, shutting off all stimulatory mechanisms. It took a moment for the smoke to clear, presenting me with a new version of the employee. More muscular, more masculine, and more virile.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Donovan?”

"It’s Donson, boss." The man stood tall, stoic. His voice now held much more depth and presence.

"It’s Donovan, Drake Donovan,” I affirmed. “That's what's in our system."

I watched the man process this, the command’s installation literally visible behind his now less-intelligent eyes. 

“I see you were able to find part of your new uniform already.” I was referring to the briefs and sweatshorts that were covering the lower half of Drake’s much larger body. The remnants of the former business casual outfit were scattered across his large feet. “The closet behind you will contain the rest of your attire. Company fitness uniforms and approved footwear that will better fit your size and new position.”

“New position?” Drake inquired, his question curious rather than interrogative.

“The company has decided to reassign you as a security liaison, seeing as that will be a better fit for your paygrade.” I typed away at my reviewal report, adding in details of Drake’s benefits package. Increase in height, dramatic increase in musculature, increase in hair, increase in virility…

To save money, the company liked to recycle its employees. We would bring in fresh graduates to run our corporate operations, and then once they hit their pay ceiling, recycled them into more manual, less intellectually-driven roles. Naturally, no one ever filed any complaints about this procedure as no one realized it existed. And even if they did, they would no longer have the brains capable to file such a complaint.

“Sounds good, boss,” Drake replied, even though I had already known what his answer was going to be. With his dominating size and brutish stature, Drake had been remodeled into the standard male form that we needed for our team. And with this mind simplified to only focusing on traditional objectives (upholding masculinity, working out, fulfilling his role), Drake was now bound to solely focus on the company’s objectives. Thanks to the recycling process, our company would keep the profits high and the employee turnover low. And now, Drake would remain entertained without the extra money by merely following orders and enjoying the simpler things in life, like flexing his muscles.

[wwandaslover]

I DONT SMOKE | N.R

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader

Warnings: lots of angst, smoking, abuse, toxic relationship, legal age gap, R has an unhealthy attachment to N, N has anger issues, love bombing, cheating

Summary: Natasha is a horrible girlfriend, R can’t let her go, they’re in a super toxic relationship.

You never smoked, it was disgusting and you always hated the smell. You had hated it your entire life, until Natasha came along. Natasha smoked a cigarette or two a day, but she bought her own tobacco and tubes for it, she wasn’t going to smoke those disgusting Marlboros or Camels, she’d always smoke her own cigarettes. You would pester her to stop smoking, worried for her health, and Natasha would always chuckle and tell you it was alright.

You fell in love with the smell and taste of cigarettes, the scent of tobacco on Natasha’s leather jacket, the taste of it on Natasha’s tongue when she’d kiss you. The way it mixed with her dark cherry scented perfume was intoxicating, and you fell harder and harder for her every single day. You fell harder every time she hugged you, or kissed you, or laid you down and spread your legs greedily.. the way she could worship your body one moment and choke you the next made you throb with need, you needed Natasha like oxygen. You hated when she was gone, you hated wondering where she was. You hated being alone.

When Natasha was gone, you’d smoke, just to taste her on your tongue and smell her on your clothes. You didn’t care how the cigarette would turn into two, then into three, even into four if Natasha was gone too long. You couldn’t help it, you had gotten addicted to the tobacco burning and the smoke filling your lungs like it had filled Natasha’s. You felt pathetic, you couldn’t go a day without her anymore, you were losing your mind whenever she was gone longer than a day. You wanted to scream every time she was out with Wanda, Carol, or Maria, you had nothing against any of them.. but Natasha was choosing them over you. You wanted to tear them apart with your shaky hands.

When Natasha would come home to you acting needy and following her like a lovesick puppy, she’d get mad. She’d break things, but never you. She’d punch a door or a wall if she was really mad, she would break random trinkets in your shared bedroom and you would sob, begging her to stop ignoring you even if that meant her hurting you. You needed her attention, whether it was her arms wrapped around your trembling frame, or her palm connecting with your cheek. You loved her so dearly, you needed her every moment of the day and all you wanted was for her to feel the same, you wanted her to need you so pathetically.

Natasha arrived home late once again to find you sitting out on the back deck, smoking a cigarette with a pensive expression on your face. Natasha frowned at the sight and opened the glass door to the deck, taking the cigarette from between your fingers and putting it out in the ashtray.

“Detka..” she spoke barely above a whisper, staring at you with concern, worried for your wellbeing. She cupped your cheek gently and a sound of hurt escaped your throat. Natasha’s eyes softened even more and she pulled you into a hug. She hated seeing you in pain, she hated knowing she was the problem. You were such a sweet person, you had a heart of gold and you were so sensitive.

You sobbed against her shoulder, “Why don’t you love me, Nat..?”

Natasha immediately spoke, “I do love you, I love you so much, dorogaya.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I know I’ve been gone a lot lately. I’m sorry work has been so crazy. I promise I’ll try and spend more time at home with you.”

You sniffled a little and lifted your head from her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. You whispered tepidly, “Are you sure..?”

Natasha nodded, smiling softly. She cupped your cheek, her cold and rough hand against your soft and warm skin. She pressed her lips to yours in a reassuring kiss, making sure to be gentle and slow. You knew you shouldn’t fall for it, Natasha would go back to normal in a few days and you’d get hurt all over again.. but you couldn’t help it. You kissed her back slowly, wrapping your arms around her neck and sighing softly against her lips. Natasha’s hands moved to your hips, holding you possessively and securely as she kissed you. She knew what she was doing, she knew she was hurting you, it wasn’t ever intentional but she couldn’t help it. She knew you’d find out about her cheating on you with Wanda, she knew you were aware of her manipulation and abuse, she knew you would never leave because you were just a needy little girl, barely even an adult. She was in her mid thirties and you were a senior in college. You were weak and Natasha couldn’t help but keep abusing your weakness.

You deepened the kiss, swiping your tongue over Natasha’s lower lip, asking for entrance that Natasha granted. Natasha’s tongue explored your mouth and immediately dominated the kiss, you let her, your soft moans were swallowed by her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha led you inside, both of you kicked your shoes off and dropped your jackets on the floor uncaringly. You both stumbled upstairs to your bedroom and once you got to it, Natasha pushed you against the wall and broke the kiss to take off your shirt and her own. You saw the hickey on her collarbone, you knew it wasn’t from you, but you wouldn’t say anything. Maybe it was just a bruise. She’d never cheat on you, she loved you.

Natasha grabbed your hips once again and pushed you onto the bed before she moved to straddle you. You instinctively grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, your eyes glued to the mark on her skin but you forced yourself to look away at Natasha’s face, kissing her once again. Natasha kissed back, unaware of the mark on her collarbone, unaware of the growing ache in your chest.

Natasha cupped your cheeks as she grinded against you, letting out soft groans and noises of pleasure into your mouth as you kissed her. Natasha slid her hands to your back and unclasped your bra, throwing it aside. Her hands immediately went to your breasts and began kneading your soft skin, her lips parting from yours and moving to kiss and suck on your chest while you let out fake moans to cover up the hurt building up inside you. You knew she cheated, but you didn’t want to accept it, you had known since the moment she began coming home smelling like another woman’s perfume, you knew when you saw nudes from Wanda in her camera roll that she didn’t bother to hide, you knew when Natasha started hanging out with Wanda every single day.. it was obvious.

While you were lost in thought, Natasha had stripped off your sweatpants and panties, burying her face in your cunt and exploring your core while her nose nudged your clit. You sobbed as Natasha ate you out, she thought you were just worked up and feeling relieved, not actually crying. You didn’t stop her, you didn’t want her to stop yet you also wanted to hit her and scream at her for ruining you. You hated how much you loved her, you used to think she was absolutely perfect, that someday you would marry her, but in that moment, her laying between your legs as she ate you out, your tears rolling down your face and soaking into your hair and bedsheets, you knew you needed to leave her. You knew you had to but you didn’t want to, you wanted to stay with her no matter how abusive and manipulative she was.

You faked an orgasm once, and then again when she decided to start fingering you and kissing your neck, then again when she decided to use a strap-on. At least when she was between your legs you couldn’t see the mark, you couldn’t see her fucking face, but now you did. You hated Natasha for the first time in your life, you hated everything about her and yet all you wanted was for her to love you and only you. You needed her more than anything, no matter how horrible she was.

Eventually, after everything stopped, Natasha laid next to you. She stared into your eyes with an unreadable expression, her hand gently resting on your waist. Her voice rang in your ears, deafeningly soft and warm, “Are you okay?”

Without thinking, you let out a scoff. You turned to lay on your back and ran your hands over your face, stressed and upset. You spoke after a moment, still not facing Natasha “How long have you been fucking Wanda?”

Natasha’s heart ached for you, she wasn’t surprised that you knew, in fact she thought you would have approached her about it already, but she hated how hurt you sounded. She hated your sad expression, she hated your shaky breaths, she hated how terrible she felt for hurting you. She got out of bed and spoke, “seven months.”

You watched as she grabbed her clothes and left the room. She just left. You knew it was over, and part of you was relieved, but seeing Natasha so uncaring reminded you of who she was and who she’d always be. You laid your head back down and sighed heavily before deciding you wouldn’t care either, so you just went to sleep. You knew Wanda didn’t know about you, so you decided that in the morning, you were going to go see her.

So a decent amount of people have asked for part two and I kinda have an idea for part two, soo, go to my requests and ask to be put on the tag list, or ask in the comments. <3

[logoleptic-since-06]

Fake Dating with Suguru

Pairings: Suguru Geto x GN!Reader

cont: fake dating, fluff, not proofread

MDNI

FakeBF!Suguru who moves in to the house next door to yours with two little girls

FakeBF!Suguru who seems way too young to have daughters– around your age, but you choose not to question it

FakeBF!Suguru who you end up meeting in front of your entrance almost every day, you both give each other faint smiles and slight nods and an occasional “hello”

FakeBF!Suguru who notices you sitting with a bunch of your friends at a cafeteria one day

FakeBF!Suguru who overhears one of your friends say “I bet Y/N’s jealous of these two being a couple”, to which you straight up deny but the friend keeps pushing the conversation insisting on her admitting that you like one of your friends who was in a relationship

FakeBF!Suguru who steps into the conversation before he can stop himself and announces himself as your boyfriend

FakeBF!Suguru who gives you a knowing look as everyone looks at you surprised, gesturing you to play along

FakeBF!Suguru who offers to drive you home

FakeBF!Suguru who asks you what’s wrong and you tell him the truth

FakeBF!Suguru who listens intently as you tell him about how you’d liked one of your friends for a while but one of your other friends started dating him and the others found out about it, which is why they were cornering you

FakeBF!Suguru who agrees to pretend to date you for a while

FakeBF!Suguru whom you end up posting on social media

FakeBF!Suguru who starts picking you up from and dropping you off to college everyday

FakeBF!Suguru who meets the person you used to like and gives them the most obvious judgemental look, making you snort

FakeBF!Suguru whom you often find yourself spending more time together than you initially planned, enjoying each other's company in a way that goes beyond the pretense of your fake relationship

FakeBF!Suguru who, despite his initial skepticism, starts to feel inexplicably drawn to the reader and finds himself unconsciously mirroring their actions and mannerisms

FakeBF!Suguru who often amazes you by how effortlessly he slips into the role of a boyfriend, making you wonder if there's a part of him that wants this relationship to be real

FakeBF!Suguru who introduces you to his daughters, telling you about how he took them in after their family abandoned them

FakeBF!Suguru who ends up being the cause of your sleepless nights because of how much time you both spend talking on the phone or texting with each other

FakeBF!Suguru who becomes the main character to all your daydreams and fake scenarios

FakeBF!Suguru who flirts with you even when no one is around

FakeBF!Suguru who acts as a boyfriend even when you both are alone

FakeBF!Suguru whose daughters love you and want to spend more time with you

FakeBF!Suguru who starts to blur the lines between what’s fake and what’s real

FakeBF!Suguru whom you go on dates with that don’t end up on your social media

FakeBF!Suguru whom you find yourself cuddling with on the couch while watching a movie

FakeBF!Suguru who buys you flowers every weekend

FakeBF!Suguru who isn’t so fake anymore

divider by @saradika-graphics

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I do think that the fact that there's still a degree of "controversy" around the circumstances with which Ed and Stede had sex is quite telling of our (general, societal our) expectation that sex be made into something that is, fundamentally, uncomplicated.

In general, there tends to be an expectation that sex can be either sorted into two categories: Good and Bad. If a specific occasion where two people have sex can't be cleanly sorted into Good, then it's lumped right into everything else with Bad - this is how we still get takes that there was any sort of dub-con element to Ed and Stede's sex scene in s2e6 when that's just not the case at all.

Like any part of human connection and communication, sex can be, and often is, messy. Here are the facts about the circumstances under which Ed and Stede have sex for the first time:

They have just had an extremely traumatic day, during which they had to see each other being tortured, and Stede just did something that upset him deeply. Ed wants to comfort and support Stede right now.

Ed has previously expressed a need to "take it slow."

What Stede needs, in the moment, is physical comfort, closeness, and intimacy with his boyfriend.

When Stede pulls Ed into the cabin, it's intense and passionate, but Ed is not uncomfortable or upset in the slightest.

Stede waits for Ed's nod of consent before kissing him, and the two fall into each other at the same time. They are both eager to hold onto each other.

The morning after, Ed is in a GREAT mood. He continues to be in an excellent mood throughout their date, and is even the one who suggests they go enjoy Stede's fame at Spanish Jackie'z. Ed initially enjoys not being in the spotlight and giving Stede advice about handling fame.

Ed does not become uncomfortable or get in his head until he's talking with Jackie, they watch Stede living it up, Ed admits that he just wants to be a regular dude now, and Jackie asks him if Stede knows that. The trigger for Ed's fear isn't anything Stede has done necessarily, it's about him worrying that Stede, who is just enjoying fame for the first time, will choose piracy over Ed.

This situation, as with many realistic human relationships, is messy. Should Ed and Stede probably have waited to have sex? Maybe. He certainly would've stopped if Ed had asked, and Ed could've found other ways to comfort him and be with him. You could argue that Stede is choosing physical intimacy to make him feel better instead of talking about his feelings. They've just had a very shitty day, and Ed's going through a bit of a personal crisis right now, and it's very possible that anything they do will get wrapped up in those big emotions. But it's also undeniable that they both had a great night and very much enjoyed it in the moment.

And that's just...realistic. It's just how any aspect of human relationships can work. People are messy and complicated. And, importantly, even if Ed does regret rushing into having sex that night (which I don't honestly think he does, I think he was having a hard time saying "things are moving very fast and I'm terrified" and that was just an easy thing to latch onto), that doesn't negate the consent he gave in the moment or retroactively make the sex non-consensual.

[heavensoutofsight]

i want you to see (how you look to me) - billie eilish

synopsis: you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, billie, and you're unsure if she feels the same, choosing to keep your distance -- until one fateful night in the studio where your feelings finally boil over.

word count: 3506

tags/warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluffy, love confessions, mutual pining, best friends to lovers

author's note: GIFT FOR YOUUUU. sorry i took so long to write something LMAO. this was very quickly proofread at 3am. any mistakes are mine! hope you enjoy :) comments/tags/reblogs are always appreciated! (credit for the divider goes to @/cafekitsune)

In the dim light of your bedroom, you scrolled through your phone's photo gallery, feeling your heart constrict at all of the pictures you had with Billie. Some were taken directly after shows, some after particular interviews, and some during a random outing the two of you decided to go on. In many of the pictures, Billie left little to no personal space, her face squished against yours and her arms completely wrapped around you. You missed the times when Billie could touch you like that and it didn't set you aflame – when it didn't make your head spin as you took in her perfume and felt her soft body underneath your hands, her ocean eyes bright and full of mirth as she looked at you.

There was no denying that there was some distance between you and Billie now. And you hated it.

You weren't sure when it happened; when you first started feeling those stupid butterflies around her. When even just the sound of her laugh made your heart soar. If somebody asked you to pinpoint the exact moment you started falling in love with your best friend, you wouldn't be able to – it was all so fuzzy and frankly you didn't think it could be attributed to a single moment anyway. It might have been that one night she slept over and you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder as she sung you to sleep. Or the time the two of you were at her place, making some vegan recipe together, playing loud music and using spoons and forks as microphones, performing for no one but yourselves and giggling profusely at Billie giving you the performance of a lifetime in the comfort of her own kitchen. Or perhaps it was the time she comforted you all night after a breakup, holding you closely and never letting go, her ring-clad hands petting you gently, as if you were made of glass.

Your heart had always belonged to Billie, long before you truly understood your feelings. And now that they were more apparent to you than ever, you simply didn't know what to do.

You knew Bille loved you just as much as you loved her. But did she feel the same fire within her whenever your hands brushed together? Did she feel those same butterflies whenever you laughed at a dumb joke or gave her a bright smile? You couldn't bear even just the thought of pouring your heart out to this woman only for the feeling to not be mutual.

You glanced at the time on your phone screen. It was late. You should've been sleeping but you were just riddled with anxiety instead, too busy imagining up a million hypothetical situations in which you would dramatically confess your feelings. You wish you had the same confidence you had in your daydreams in your real life.

You sighed, scrolling to the very last thing you had in your gallery. It was the most recent video of you and Billie, taken only a few weeks ago. The both of you were in Billie's living room. You couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of your lips when Billie came into view as you secretly recorded her in all of her casual glory. Her long hair was down, falling in front of her face in a way that made the breath leave your lungs. She was in an oversized t-shirt, wearing a pair of simple black shorts. She was very focused; her lips forming a pout as she stared down at the notebook in her lap, a pencil in hand.

What started as a small grin evolved into a wide, lovesick smile as you watched Billie look at the camera in the video, finally having caught on to you filming her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Past Billie had asked, a smirk slowly appearing on her face as she eyed you suspiciously. You heard yourself giggle, suddenly aiming your phone camera away from her and poorly trying to appear innocent.

“Nothing.”

“You are a fucking liar,” Billie said playfully, barely able to get the words out through her own series of chuckles.

“I'm not!” Past you exclaimed. Billie just shook her head, scrambling over to you to grab your phone, the both of you erupting into whole-hearted laughter. The last blurry frame of the video was of Billie's smiling face looking at you. You admired her perfect teeth and lips, the shape of her nose, and those damn ocean eyes, far more beautiful than any body of water you'd ever seen.

That familiar fluttery feeling returned to your stomach again.

You shut off your phone and quickly placed it on your bedside table. You rolled over in your bed, still thinking of that video. You were beginning to feel something in your chest. Your heart felt like it was constricting again. You tried to ignore, instead attempting to shift the focus of your thoughts on the weight of your blanket encompassing you, or the gentle sound of whatever random sitcom you had playing on your television for background noise; but your mind always wandered back to Billie. Her smile, her laugh, her touch.

You were deeply, madly in love with Billie Eilish, your best friend, and it was starting to drive you insane. This was not a crush, no, it was more than a crush – it was like a craving, a desire so strong it entirely consumed you.

You were so fucked.

You closed your eyes, desperately just wanting to sleep. You weren't even necessarily physically tired. Just tired of your brain going a thousand miles a minute and constantly thinking about her.

After a few long minutes of battling complete and utter restlessness, you had mentally exhausted yourself enough to the point where you were finally starting to drift off – until you heard your phone go off, which abruptly pulled you away from the brink of sleep. Normally, you would ignore it, but you recognized that notification tone. It was a tone that you specifically gave to Billie, and whenever she texted, you had to answer.

You opened your messaging app, squinting a bit at the brightness of your screen in the dark room.

heyyyy u up

i'm in the studio by myself

feeling lonely as hell

You heard the messages in her voice. You found yourself smiling again, imagining her in her little swivel chair, maybe playing a melody on the piano or strumming a tune on the guitar.

Without wasting a second, you replied.

you: of course i'm up

you: god you can't do anything without me huh?

You chuckled to yourself, watching those three little dots disappear and reappear.

billie: you are absolutely correct

billie: you just really inspire me what can i say

billie: i'm not even joking you really do

You ignored the warmth in your cheeks at her words, opting to play around some more.

you: ew

you: cheesy ass

To that, Billie replied almost instantly:

billie: shut your mouth

billie: ARE YOU COMINGGG

bille: seriously tho i know it's late but we haven't hung out in a while and i kinda miss youuuu or whateverrrr

You didn't respond right away, staring up at your plain white ceiling, releasing a sigh. Your smile faltered a bit.

She missed you. And you missed her. And even though being around her made you feel like you were gonna lose your mind, she didn't deserve to be pushed away.

“You are going to get over your feelings, starting now.” you said to yourself encouragingly, getting out of your bed to meet Billie at her place. You finally threw her a reply back.

you: i'm omw :))))))

______

You didn't knock when you finally arrived since you had the key, but you did make your presence known.

“Bil,” you shouted out. You didn't get a response, but you shrugged it off. She was probably deeply concentrated on whatever lyric or melody she was trying to create. You made your way to the studio, feeling your heart race inside of your chest. As you walked down the stairs and down a hallway, getting closer to the studio door, you felt more and more anxious.

You were going to open the door, your hand resting on the doorknob, but you froze when you heard the soft sound of humming. You leaned in closer, honing in on the gentle sound of Billie's voice, muffled and just barely audible.

“I want you to stay… til I'm in the…” She trailed off. You heard her let out a heavy sigh. That’s when you decided to make your presence known.

You slowly opened the door, quietly enough that Billie hadn’t even turned around in her chair, looking up at the large television screen in front of her, messing around with some music production software that you could never understand. You continued to stand in the doorway, watching as Billie made some small edits within the current song she seemed to be working on. She hit play after making some miniscule changes, the unfinished song softly playing out of the large speakers. As soon as the instrumental filled the room, you felt chills on every inch of your body; it sounded beautiful despite the fact that it wasn’t even done. You’d never get over how lucky you were to be able to hear the early versions of Billie’s songs – it was like being let into a secret world, and it made you feel special that you, alongside her family, got to witness every step of the process.

Eventually, the short snippet of the song had stopped, and Billie leaned back in her seat. Just from her posture you could tell that she seemed defeated, like something about the song just wasn’t right to her. She began humming again, mumbling out some lyrics here and there. You found yourself grinning as you admired Billie in her element, but then you remembered that you still hadn’t announced your presence and that you were just creepily ogling at her from the doorway. You audibly chuckled at yourself which, of course, finally grabbed Billie’s attention.

She spun around in her chair, seemingly startled at first before she realized it was you.

“Jesus Christ,” she started, her adorable laugh filling the quiet studio. “Did you just get here?”

You shook your head, heading over to the couch and making yourself comfortable. “I was standing there for a good few minutes.” You replied with a grin.

“Don't ever do that again – my heart fell into my ass.” She exclaimed, and you let out a loud cackle at that. You grabbed one of the throw pillows next to you and held it in your arms, reclining back into the familiar cushions.

“Okay, won't happen again. Maybe. No promises.” You joked, to which Bille just rolled her eyes playfully.

“Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?” You asked curiously, your eyes going back to the music software she had on the screen.

“The album, obviously.” Billie said with a smirk. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, not being able to fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Shut up,” you said with mirth. “Which track?”

“It's called Birds of a Feather, it's track 4. It's… pretty shit, right now.”

Your eyes widened in complete and utter bewilderment, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.

“Billie, what? I just heard the little snippet you played and it sounded incredible.”

“You say everything I make sounds incredible.”

“Because it's true.” You replied sincerely. To that, Billie gave you a gentle smile, looking down at her lap as if shy at the sudden praise. You felt the sensation of warmth throughout your body at just how endearing she was.

“All you do is gas me up.” Billie replied through a series of chuckles.

“Of course I'm gonna gas up my amazingly talented super star best friend,” You responded. “But… can I ask why you think it's bad?”

Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair again, twiddling her thumbs. “It's just… the lyrics are giving me a hard time. And the instrumental is missing something but I don't know what it is.”

“Can I read the lyrics?” You asked.

At that, Billie looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. She seemed hesitant, which was definitely unusual–she always let you read her lyrics and never felt shy about sharing stuff with you.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Bille said after a few long seconds of pondering, but you could still hear the uncertainty in her voice. Curious, your brows furrowed.

“Bil, I understand if it's something you don't wanna share with me yet–”

“No, please,” she said, quickly handing you her journal, already having opened it to the pages that contained the lyrics in question. “You can read it.”

You glanced at her expression one more time as you took the journal, and noticed that this time – she was holding back a smile, biting her bottom lip.

You were equal parts confused and eager to see what Billie seemed a little hesitant to share. You silently began reading what she had written, taking in her adorable, albeit messy handwriting. There were all kinds of scribbles on the page, certain words were crossed out. It was fascinating to you to see her thought process on the page. You loved just how deeply she thought about every word, every sentence.

Eventually, you stopped admiring her crooked letters and side notes and finally began analyzing the lyrics themselves – and when you did, you honestly wanted to cry at how lovely they were.

I want you to stay

Till I'm in the grave

Till I rot away, dead and buried

Till I'm in the casket you carry

If you go, I'm going too

‘Cause it was always you

And if I'm turning blue

Please don't save me

Nothing left to lose

Without my baby

“Billie, these are…” you paused, searching for the right words. “These are so sweet.” You said with a smile, meeting her warm blue eyes that were still trained on your face.

“Thanks.” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

As you read some more, a question had crossed your mind. Your eyes trailed off the page as you internally debated with yourself whether or not you should even ask because you were little afraid of what the answer would be.

It was clear to you these lyrics were about someone– they had to be. And the very thought of this song being about someone else in Billie's life made you feel as if there was a heavy weight in your stomach. For a second, you foolishly thought that you'd be able to overcome the feelings you had for Billie. All it took was imagining her with someone else that made those feelings rush back all at once.

You must've been quiet for longer than intended, because Billie spoke up. “Are they actually terrible? Do you hate them and you're trying to figure out how to break it to me?” Billie asked, that playful tone creeping back into her voice.

You chuckled. “They are far from terrible, Bil, it's just…”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“I was just wondering… who's it about?” You asked, feeling unreasonably nervous about her response. You don't even know why, because you had long accepted that there was a possibility she didn't like you like that. You were prepared to be heartbroken – but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less.

But all Billie did was just… laugh.

“Guess.” She said, crossing her arms.

Oh, God. So there is someone else, you thought.

With a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, you said, “How the hell am I supposed to guess? But I'm happy for you, regardless.” You said, trying to be lighthearted, but your voice dropped a bit, possibly revealing your true feelings.

“Okay, do you want a hint?”

You stared at her incredulously. “You seriously want me to guess?”

“Do you want a hint or no?” Billie asked again, ignoring your question. She was smiling widely now, and you were still feeling that pang of sadness that you couldn't quite shake, but you continued to play along anyway.

“Sure. I'll take a hint.” You said.

“Okay,” Billie started. “She's my best friend in the entire world.”

“You have a lot of best friends-”

“Girl, let me finish.” Billie said with a laugh. “She's my best friend in the entire world who's known me my entire life. She's come with me to almost every show, every interview, and has supported me through everything.”

Billie had come a little closer to you now, her tone becoming more sincere with every word.

“When I'm lonely, she comes and visits me in the studio, even when it's ridiculously late. And she always compliments me and never lets me feel bad about anything I make.”

Slowly, but surely, you were beginning to realize something. Her descriptions were becoming more and more specific. Were you being delusional?

“Billie, I… what are you saying?” You asked. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, hard enough you were sure they'd be bruised.

“Still don't know?” She asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.

You shook your head.

“Okay, I'll just tell you then.”

Billie gently cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch almost instantly. She was close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips.

“She's right in front of me.” She said with a grin.

You couldn't even process the sentence that just came out of her mouth, frozen in shock and disbelief.

“This song is about me?” You asked quietly, your voice breaking slightly. You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, all of the emotion brewing within you threatening to spill.

“Do you remember the last time we hung out and you were filming me writing? I was writing this. I was writing this and thinking about you and how much I love you. I realized it as I was just… sitting there. You were laughing at some dumb meme on your phone and I just remember thinking how much I wanted you all to myself.”

You didn't realize you were crying until Billie had wiped away a tear.

“Hey, hey,” Billie said ever so softly, opting to hold both of your hands now. “Why are you crying?”

You laughed a bit through the tears, sniffling a few times before answering. “Because I… can't believe you felt this way the whole fucking time. I was going crazy, Billie.”

Billie let out a loud laugh of her own. It was your favorite sound in the world.

“Sorry. Honestly, I was trying to figure out my own feelings and how to tell you.”

“No, I'm sorry. For pushing you away.” you replied. Billie shook her head.

“Oh my god, stop. You don't have to apologize. It all worked out in the end, right?” She asked.

You smiled. “Yeah. It did.”

For several long seconds, there was a comfortable silence that stretched between the two of you. The both of you were smiling at each other, completely lost in the other's eyes. You didn't miss the way Billie's eyes glanced at your lips.

“Billie.” You spoke.

“Yeah, baby?”

The pet name made your heart soar.

“If you don't fucking kiss me right now–”

Billie didn't even let you finish your sentence, her lips colliding with your eyes in an explosion of pent up feelings and passion. She held both sides of your face in your hands, while yours snaked around her waist. You held onto her like she was gonna disappear any second and kissed her like you were starving.

The kiss started off innocent– but it quickly delved into something a bit more intense when Billie just slightly bit your lip, not enough to cause pain but enough to make you gasp. She introduced her tongue hesitantly, silently asking for your permission, which you granted without a second thought.

At some point, Billie finally got out of her swivel chair and moved to sit down on the couch with you. The two of you had pulled apart briefly for that, and when Billie was seated, her eyes were hooded and she was gazing at you like you were sex on longs. She patted her lap, and liked an obedient dog, you wasted no time crawling into her lap.

“I've dreamt about this.” You said, completely breathless and warm in the face.

“Oh, yeah?” Billie asked with a smirk that had your insides flipping upside down. “What else have you dreamt about?”

“Being able to call you mine.”

At that, Billie smiled. “That's all?”

“No, that's not all, but… I'd rather show than tell…” you trailed off, but it was obvious what you were referring to.

“We are getting out of my brother's basement, right fucking now.” Billie said.

The two of you snuck out of Finneas’ house, hand-in-hand and giggling like little kids in love.

[delicatewhumps]

lasting, visible impacts of a character’s injury.

scars!! so many possibilities. hidden, so that only the character is reminded of them; this can go great for intimate reveals with a loved one. or what if the scars are big and obvious? mottled burn scars climbing up an arm, a surgical scar winding around the side of their head, slashed scars from an attack on their face, or scarred rope marks around their neck!

canes, crutches, wheelchairs, walkers… any mobility aid. have they decorated it? do they use it with pride? maybe they’ve added spikes to the handles of their wheelchair, or whittled cool designs into the body of their cane.

glasses or an eye patch! or maybe even the lack of an eye altogether. combined with scars, this could be peak character design.

prosthetic limbs.. walk with me! facial prostheses, too. depending on the context / genre, you could go in so many different directions. fantasy prostheses are amazing. has the character built it themselves?

on the other hand, what if they choose not to have a prosthesis, or what if they can’t? a finger, a missing arm, a missing leg… a world of possibilities.

medical devices. maybe they need hearing aids now. maybe their injury has left them with an invisible disability, like diabetes or heart issues, and they need an insulin pump or a pacemaker! they could also have an implantable cardioverter defibrillator, which is visible as a lump under the skin of their chest, to jumpstart their heart if it stops. (these can come with a host of side effects…. for another post.)

as a disabled person, i just really love disabled characters. and i especially love when a character survives something amazing & they have lasting reminders of it.

[tmntxthings]

一∑Moth to a Flame・゜・。

author’s notes: this is my entry for @dancingdonatello ‘s competition :D this has been sm fun and I can’t wait to read everyone else’s stories!!!

prompt: "You like them...more? Is that it? Am I the second choice?" "That's not true..." "Then choose me. Choose us."

warnings: angst, situation-ship, aged-up characters, college au, alcohol consumption, jealousy, yandere tendencies? cliffhanger

—————————————————————————

Donnie didn’t know how much more he could take. His mind was simultaneously all over the place and singularly focused on one thing. You.

~

Mutants and yokai kind alike have been out for years. So in the ‘town’ he and his brothers grew up in, they finally came to be free from the shadows. As free as heroes can be at least. They still needed to be a bit secretive on where they lived, in case of revenge-seeking villains.

But with mutants out on the surface, New York had grown accustom to them. Well, as accustom as they can be…

Donnie has met many people. He’s been able to attend college. Mostly online. But he finds the time to attend some evening classes in person. He met you. A floundering classmate in need of assistance.

Usually Donnie can find an excuse to get out of helping every poor soul that crosses his path. That’s what the professors are for. The librarians. Hell the student mentors! But with you… he just couldn’t resist.

The study sessions were long. But in the end you were able to pass, “All thanks to you Dee!!” You had cheered shoving your research paper into his face for him to appraise your passing grade. Barely passing, but it showed your improvement nonetheless.

He had been about to tease you of this. Three months of his help and you hardly grazed by?! But the thought was cut short as you pulled the papers away from his face and up you jumped.

Arms going around his neck and squealing your joy. He was frozen for a millisecond before his arms twitched into motion. His hands going around your back, holding you. That was the first time you had initiated such skin-ship.

Sure there had been the occasional touching of hands, passing laptops, books and the like back and forth. There had even been moments of playful touch, nudging his arm with your elbow for his odd choice in coffee. A tap above his glasses when he got too focused on his own work to answer your sporadic questions.

The hug didn’t last very long in terms of time. Seconds merely. But it made a lastly impression on Donnie. With the class over, you had no other reason to see him again. The prospect had Donnie fumbling to invite you out, to do anything to prolong such an ending to this blooming relationship.

“What classes are you taking next semester?” He had asked. You promised to text him the list, already having to dash off for one last exam.

He worried that would be the end.

Thankfully it wasn’t. You texted him later that evening, telling him all about the rest of your day as well as the list per his request. Unfortunately the two of you didn’t share any other classes. And it seemed unlikely for the future as well, the two of you were on diverging paths. Donnie despaired.

But you found reasons to message him. By the time the next semester rolled around the two of you were study partners, no matter the subject. Donnie would help if he could, and usually he was able. But there was a shift in the relationship. Outings to the library and other study areas changed to coffee shops. Then to your place. It only felt natural to invite you over to his.

Preparations were put in place. As were warnings “Yes, I do live in a sewer with my brothers and dad.” And “No it doesn’t reek of waste or garbage.” And “Yes there is one rat actually, my dear Papa.”

You took it all in stride. The introductions to his family went as well as they ever did. Friends. The two of you were officially friends. Donnie couldn’t be happier. With such a title he took more initiative with online contact. His messages would ramble on, sprinkled with pictures and videos.

Semesters continued to pass by and the bond between the two of you only grew. In turn, with more trips to his home, you became friends with his brothers. With April. It was just natural.

And then there was graduation. A celebration was in order. Four years, you had been in his life for four years and he couldn’t imagine it without you. The plan was to dress to the nines, and go out on the ‘town’! Drinking and dancing.

Of course, his brothers were invited as well as a few of your other friends. Donnie was no stranger to clubbing. The bar scene had become somewhat of a regular occurrence once his friendship with you was solidified.

You liked to go out. You liked music. He obliged on a few occasions to be your dancing partner and thus every time after it was his official label. Donnie was adverse to the huge crowds. It didn’t offer much room for dancing, but he’d endure it for you. With you in his arms it all seemed bearable. The music that was so loud it thumped in his plastron. The heat in the room percolating from the sheer number of bodies. Even the taste of alcohol, on the very, very rare occasion you got him to drink.

It always tasted horrible. No matter the different shots or mixed cocktails. God forbid a beer. You had pushed all sorts of these beverages on him, eyes crinkling up at him with amusement as his beak wrinkled from disgust.

Those nights with alcohol involved always ended strangely. Your touch would light him up from the inside. He’d want to hold you closer, lean in as far as you’d let him. Pull at your waist, dig his fingers into your hips during the last dance before the two of you had to part for the night. Those nights ended with kisses.

And by the next day you would never talk about them. So he didn’t either. Even as his murky memory of all other events seemed to part with clarity for how you had panted heat into his mouth. He’d flush dark green at just the thought and have to swallow the spit that pooled in his mouth.

This had happened a handful of times. The kissing. And with no communication whatsoever afterwards it put Donnie on edge. He wondered why it happened at all if you didn’t want to acknowledge the deed once it was done. He wondered about what it said on account of his own self worth for him to continue to let it happen.

To look forward to nights out. To nights you pushed a shot glass his way. To want your lips on his by the end of it all.

So with this big celebration, Donnie was expecting the same routine if only highlighted by the fact that both of you were now graduates. He’d be your dance partner. The two of you would spin for an hour or two, or however long you wanted. And he’d order himself a drink this time. One that he found slightly bearable than the rest.

Only, that wasn’t what was happening. Drink in hand? Sure. Your hand in his other? No. He was grumbling over at the bar shooting hateful daggers where you resided on the dance floor. You were dancing with Leo.

Donnie grimaced as he took a long hard sip. It was like acid in his mouth. Donnie didn’t know how much more he could take. His mind was simultaneously all over the place and singularly focused on one thing. You.

You laughing as Leo twirled you around. How wrong it felt to watch your arms go up and around his brother’s neck. Donnie was a better dancer. He knew in his soul that he could beat Leo in any category. Waltz, disco, salsa, you name it, Donnie could dance it. But his prowess didn’t seem to matter. Which only further incensed him. Why were you doing this? How could you possibly allow Nardo to take his place? His rightful role. Donnie was supposed to be your dance partner. And the only time you were allowed to dance with another was whenever he deigned to skip such an outing.

He was here. Dressed in an aubergine suit. Jacket button undone. And his black dress shirt was unbuttoned as well. Three buttons plucked, showing off too much skin in his opinion for such a crowd. But he had been feeling flirty. Flirty for someone who wasn’t even glancing his way.

Donnie fumed once more. Cursing in his mind as he lifted his drink and threw his head back. Maybe the taste would kill him. His eyes squeezed shut as the liquid poured down his throat and he tried not to gag. Bad decision.

When his eyes reopened it couldn’t have been at a worse moment. Leo was dipping you, his face leaning dangerously close to yours, his hand snug on your waist. Leo said something in your ear.

Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the heat. But when Donnie saw your darkened cheeks, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He stormed to the dance floor. Yanking Leo’s hand away from your body once you were upright.

“What’s up hermano?” Leo’s smile was grating. Donnie had to force himself not to snarl. He took your hand and pulled you after him. Leaving Leo. Leaving this place. He had to get out of here now.

“Donnie?!” You called out over the music. But you didn’t pull away. You let him lead you out of the club. Out on the sidewalk, then off to the alleyway.

“Is everything okay?” You asked once he finally stopped. When he turned to look down at you, your eyebrows were creased with worry. Lips pulled into a line. Donnie was cracking. He couldn’t do this any longer. Did you like Leo? Did you want a ‘face man’? Was he not enough anymore? Was he being replaced? The thoughts were suffocating him and he pulled you to his plastron, backing you into the building wall simultaneously.

“I’m here, but Dee you’ve gotta say something, I’m getting worried..” You mumbled into his clothes. Your arms going around Donnie’s shell, petting over his jacket. Offering him comfort. It wasn’t enough. He huffed his frustration.

“Should I go get your brother?”

It was the wrong thing to say. And this time he did snarl.

“No.”

Your hands froze. Falling back down to your sides. You’d never heard him so angry before. He couldn’t find it within himself to care at the moment. His displeasure written all over his face as you looked up at him.

“What’s going on?”

And Donnie remembered himself thinking that so many times with you. As you had took his breath away. And then again when you pretended like you couldn’t recall ever doing so.

“Don-“

He leaned down. Capturing your lips. Kissing you like you did to him. Only where you had made him breathless, this seemed to have the opposite effect. You puffed up. Bristling in his arms as you tried shoving him away.

It hurt.

He was much stronger than you. He could overpower you easily. But your push was like a blow to the plastron. He staggered back, all anger leaving him. A husk as he squeezed his fists shut, head hanging down as you berated him.

“What the hell was that?! Are you drunk?? Donnie what is going on? If you don’t fucking say something right now, I swear to god,”

“I don’t know!” He shouted back and it was enough to quiet you.

From there it was as if his mouth couldn’t be stopped. “I don’t know! I thought this was what we did. I didn’t hallucinate those three times you kissed me. Don’t deny it any longer!” He was heaving, face coming up to stare accusingly at you.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line.

“You kissed me! Drunkenly, but it was still there. And I can’t forget. I can’t pretend they never happened. I don’t know how you can.” His hands were in motion as he ranted. Throwing them out with the building of emotion.

“So I thought tonight would be no different. We’d get drunk. We’d dance. And we’d kiss! I want all of that. Even though I’d do it without the alcohol.” His voice cracked towards the end. But he continued to push on.

“But you danced with him. So I went and got drunk enough for the both of us.” He felt pathetic admitting this out loud. He staggered forward, unable to remain so far apart. Despite you having pushed him away. He was just a moth to your flame. He’d let himself be burnt.

“You like him more?” He asked in a voice so low it practically went unheard. His hand came up, a finger tracing down the side of your cheek.

“Is that it? Am I the second choice?” His lids lowered in time as he ran out of skin to skim. His hand fell away from your face but he had crowded you close to the wall once more. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

“That’s not true.” You exasperated. But that hardly cleared up anything for him. If that was the case then what were you doing dancing with his brother and not him? Why couldn’t he kiss you? Why were the both of you still pretending to be friends?

“Then pick me. Choose me.” Donnie pleaded. He didn’t care how needy it sounded. He’d do whatever it took. Get down on his knees if he had to. Because you had become a part of his life four years ago. Four years of a presence he didn’t know he needed. Up until it was far too late. And now there was no turning back. He’d be damned if he let you get away.

[meazalykov]

nationality switch

esmee brugts x uswnt!dutch!reader

summary: choosing a national team almost made you drift away from the person you love most

warnings: angst

it’s been a long time since you’ve seen esmee, since that fight—since everything changed. 

you’re sitting in the corner of a cozy café in barcelona, sipping your iced coffee, lost in your thoughts about how things used to be. the only noise around you is the coffee machines brewing or the ovens beeping in the background of your thoughts.

you never expected to see her today. you thought she moved to arsenal in london. a club that she mentioned her interest in. but then again, nothing with esmee ever goes as planned.

the bell above the café door chimes, and you look over at the door on instinct. when you see her, your stomach flips. is that her? you had to do a double take.

it is esmee. her eyes lock on yours instantly, and for a second, it’s like no time has passed. the familiarity, the memories, all come rushing back. you miss her, but the weight of your last conversation—the fight—hangs heavily between you both.

you don’t move. you don’t know if you should, and maybe she doesn’t either, because she hesitates before walking over. you freeze before you see her stop at the counter.

you took a deep breath before she gets her flat white and walks over.

when she finally reaches your table, you see that same spark in her eyes, but there’s something else now. something different.

“hey,” she says, her voice soft, almost tentative, as if she’s afraid of how you’ll respond.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep things light. 

“esmee, how did you even find me?”

she offers a small smile, a little suspicious. 

“we never turned off each other’s locations on our phones.”

that breaks the tension for a moment, and you can’t help but laugh. 

it’s such a typical esmee thing to say. well for you, as someone who is the closest to her. she never fails to make a heavy moment become lighter. you shake your head at the absurdity of it all. 

“of course.”

she sits down across from you at the wooden table, and suddenly, the reality of everything hits. you’re both here in barcelona. after all this time, all the distance, somehow, fate—or maybe something else—has pulled you back together. 

it feels like you’re supposed to be here, like you were always meant to end up on the same team again. it hasn't been too long since you were both at psv. your contracts ended at the same time and you had a bad feeling that it would've been your last time together.

it wasn't.

“so…” esmee starts, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the napkin in front of her. “i heard the news.”

you nod slowly. “yeah. barca. i guess it was inevitable, huh?”

“inevitable,” she echoes, her gaze dropping to the table before lifting back to meet yours. 

“we were always supposed to end up here together, it was our dream.”

the silence stretches between you both, and it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. there’s so much unsaid, and you know it. she knows it. 

the past months have been complicated. after the women’s world cup, after that game against the netherlands where you scored that header, after you told her that you weren't going to represent the netherlands on the senior level, things between you two were…different.

“you were mad,” you say softly, cutting through the silence.

her eyes darken slightly, and she nods, not bothering to deny it. “yeah, i was.”

“because I celebrated my goal?”

“because it felt like you were celebrating more than just a goal,” she admits. 

“it felt like you were celebrating the fact that you chose them over us. over me.”

throwback to july 26th, 2023

it’s the 62nd minute, and the game between the u.s and the netherlands is 0-1. the tension is suffocating—this isn’t just any group stage match. 

it’s a battle between two teams who were in the finals of the last world cup. the netherlands want revenge.

for you, it’s personal. you are dutch and american. your mother was born and raised in eindhoven, while your dad is an american who studied there then met your mother.

while growing up, you considered yourself to be dutch. you never lived in the united states. however, you've wondered what it was like to live over there.

at the age of 8 you met your bestfriend, esmee, at a soccer club. the both of you grew up, joined psv together, and played for the dutch youth teams together.

when your father expressed how he wanted you to chose the uswnt when you reached the senior level, you didn't count him out. the team was the best in the world.

the 2019 world cup solidified your decision to represent your father's side of the family. however, sometimes you think about the other world where you chose the dutch team instead of the americans.

you jog back to your position for a corner kick being taken by rose lavelle, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. 

your heart pounds in your chest, and as you glance toward the dutch goal, your eyes flicker briefly to the orange clad figure on the left. esmee. 

she’s looks at you briefly, her expression unreadable. for a split second, it’s like time slows down. you remember the late nights practicing at psv, the laughter, the way she used to tell you that you’d both dominate the world together one day.

now, you’re on opposing sides, thanks to you choosing your other nationality.

the whistle blows. you snap back to the present, focusing on the corner being taken. 

the ball soars through the air, heading toward the front post. you leap, eyes locked on the ball, and your timing is perfect. you rise above the defenders, connecting with the ball in a powerful header that rockets past the dutch goalkeeper.

goal!

for a moment, the world stops. then the noise of the crowd hits you like a wave, and you’re running, arms outstretched in celebration. your teammates swarm around you, shouting, grabbing your jersey, jumping on your back. 

you can hear julie yelling for you and lindsey clapping you on the back with a proud grin. it’s chaos—pure joy, adrenaline, and pride.

but as you slow down, turning back toward midfield, your eyes find esmee again. 

she’s standing there, watching, her expression unreadable at first. in the moment that you look away before turning back, you see it: the hurt. the disbelief. you know it’s not just about the goal. it’s about everything else.

you swallow the lump forming in your throat and try to focus on your teammates still celebrating around you, but esmee’s look is burned into your mind. 

she goes back on the left-back then stands, her hands clenched into fists by her sides, it looks as if she’s frozen. you see her teammates—players you grew up with on youth teams—pat her on the back, but it’s clear she’s not hearing them.

it’s the celebration that did it. you know it. the way you threw your fists in the air, the way you smiled at your teammates like this goal was everything. 

to esmee, it wasn’t just a goal against the netherlands. it was a statement, a reminder that you chose the united states over the netherlands, over her.

as the game resumes, you push the thought to the back of your mind. you have to stay focused. there’s still time left, and the dutch team isn’t going to back down easily. but every time you glance in esmee’s direction, it stings. 

you see the frustration in her movements, the way she presses forward with even more intensity than before. she’s angry—at you, at the situation—and it shows.

the game ends and its tied. the rest of her team is exhausted, but she doesn’t even wait for the usual post-match handshakes and shirt swaps. she walks straight down the tunnel, disappearing from view, and a pit forms in your stomach.

you want to go after her, explain that the celebration wasn’t meant to hurt her. but deep down, you know this moment has been building for a long time. 

the decision to play for the united states on the senior level, the arguments, the silence between you two—it’s all led to this. 

in the locker room, your teammates are quiet, they’re focused on the next match. 

your thoughts are stuck on esmee. you stare down at your phone, wondering if you should text her, try to explain. but what could you say? what could make this better?

back to the barcelona cafe, a month later

you blink, taken aback by the raw honesty in her words. 

you’ve had months to think about it—about what it meant when you chose to play for the uswnt, about how your dad had always pushed you to follow in his footsteps. but you didn’t think esmee would take it this personally.

“esmee, it wasn’t about that,” you say, voice soft, almost pleading.

“you know it wasn’t like that.”

it was your first goal for the national team. it happened to be against your other country, the other country that wanted you to play for them too. 

your mother is dutch, and your father is american– so you had a tough decision to make.

esmee shakes her head, and for a moment, you think she’s going to argue. but then she sighs, leaning back in her chair. 

“i know. but it hurt. i wanted you to play with me and for the oranje. i wanted us to play together, like we always did in eindhoven. and then, when you celebrated after that goal…it felt like you’d forgotten everything we’d had.”

“i didn’t forget. i could never forget,” you say, and it’s the truth. you haven’t forgotten a single moment. 

“but esmee, you know how much my dad wanted this for me.” 

“i know,” she whispers, and there’s pain in her voice. 

“but i wanted you to want the same things i did. i wanted you to choose me.”

her words hit you hard, and for a second, you can’t respond. this is about more than just football, more than just a decision you had to make when choosing a national team. 

it’s about the two of you—about what you’ve meant to each other all these years.

“esmee,” you start, leaning forward, trying to make her understand. “it wasn’t about choosing them over you. you mean everything to me. i-i didn’t even realize—”

“that’s the thing,” she interrupts, her voice trembling slightly. 

“i was upset because i always want to be around you. it was selfish, maybe, but it’s the truth. i thought…i thought i was going to lose you when you chose them. what if you didn’t choose to come to barcelona? what if i didn’t? we wouldn’t see each other anymore..”

you frown, confused. “esmee, you’re never going to lose me. what are you talking about?”

she bites her lip, her eyes searching yours, and suddenly, it’s like all the walls she’s built up come crashing down. her hands stop gripping on her coffe cup and goes to gently hold your right hand instead. 

you froze.

“i’m talking about how i feel about you,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. 

you feel your heart skip a beat, and for some reason, her confession doesn’t surprise you. 

it’s like you always knew, like a part of you had been waiting for her to say it out loud. she’s been your best friend for years, but deep down, maybe you always knew there was something more.

the left-back never made her crush on you a hidden secret. she was never outright, but her actions towards you spoke for itself. 

“es…” you start, but you don’t know what to say. so instead, you reach across the table, gently taking your other hand and holding hers.

she looks at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable, like she’s terrified of what you’ll say next.

“i like you too,” you say softly, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand. 

“i think i always have.”

her eyes widen even more, but there’s a soft smile playing on her lips now. 

“really?”

you nod, giving her a small smile in return. “yeah. really.”

you stand up slowly, moving around the table, and she doesn’t pull away when you lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

it feels right and natural, like something you should’ve done a long time ago. you wanted to, but you didn't know how she felt about you then.

nobody was present in the cafe instead of the barista who was too focused on making drinks, so you didn’t feel embarrassed to kiss her.

when you pull back, esmee smiling up at you, and for the first time in months, you feel like things between you two might finally be okay.

“so…barcelona, huh?” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

esmee laughs, that familiar sound you’ve missed so much. “yeah. looks like we’re stuck together again.”

you grin, squeezing her hand gently. “good. i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

my masterlist is here if you want to read more!

[jolapeno]

✨ jolapeno turns three today 🥹

(or undercoverpena, mvtthewmurdvck - however you've come to know me)

no matter when i stumbled into your dash, whether through my bucky barnes stage, daredevil, the umbrella academy, daredevil again, call of duty, daredevil again again, narcos, triple frontier, the last of us, the mentalist, the mandalorian and likely back to daredevil again, thank you. not just for the laughs, or the notes; the kudos or the asks, but for being here when it's been cloudy and stormy. thank you for reading the things my brain comes up with and urging it to continue.

i started as a person who didn't know if she could tell stories and I'm now a person who loves to tell stories. even with the lows, this has still been a place I've felt super happy to be a part of, and I'm so grateful that so many of you have stuck around (or allowed me to forcibly drag you from fandom to fandom).

i wish i could go back and tell three-years-ago-jo that in two years she'll have friends she couldn't go a day without speaking to. i wish i could see the look on her face when i told her that she'll have written not one story, but countless romance stories after never thinking she'd be able to do it again. so thank you, for being here, for reading and supporting, for cheering me on and also being my friend. i love you all lots. (sorry not sorry for being a mush)

some special thank you's to just some people who inspired great things in me, who have seen my work when it hasn't been as polished as when it's posted and not judged me for my random misspellings or crazy dyslexia.

even when i didn't think i could do it, you all did. so thank you. to my friend aish, who held my hand through late night texts (which allowed me to find my tuesday sister @goodwithcheese without who i cannot humanly go a day without now). without @eupheme we'd never had had din going around the universe, without you telling me i could do it. and if not for @tonysopranosrobe we'd never had me writing outbreak joel who just can't keep his hands to himself and even more joel's since then. to the wonderful @secretelephanttattoo who inspired and cheered me on for do me yourself (it wouldn't have existed without you) i am amazed by you all the time. and to @luxurychristmaspudding for fancying the pants of frankie and blue so much we're still not sure who we're choosing, for helping me cull the ideas and holding my extra 'S' with all the love in the world. and @toomanytookas for being a sounding board when i change plot three times and not judging me.

and last but no means least, my panda, the girl i have trekked on a train for even if i hate trains, @thetriumphantpanda you don't just inspire great things in me, but make me do great things. your honesty and care with my heart and work is never taken for granted and if you're not crying as you read this, what the living fuck hahaha.

[euniexenoblade]

Choose Your Own Smutty Halloween Adventure - Prologue

"Hiiii everyone! It's me, Mordred! Breaking the fourth wall to bring you an all new fun smutty adventure! Let me welcome you to The Fucking Game!"

Curtains, that you previously never noticed on your screen, rise up to reveal a game show set. On the left side of the set there sits five yellow, cushy seats. On the right side are shackles chained to the wall, the only part of the set where the yellow striped wallpaper is disturbed. Between the two is a small wall to prevent the sides from seeing each other.

"Now, I know what you're asking, 'Mordred, what is The Fucking Game, and why the fuck are you breaking the fourth wall?!' Well, my dear reader, it's very simple, it's like the The Dating Game, except it's fucking, and you're reading it. And, it needs a host, and who better than me?"

"Oh, and did I mention it's a Halloween special? So, ya know, monsters and shit."

"Shall we meet our lovely slut I mean, bachelorette?"

Two hooded figures pull a girl out by the ankles, she seems to have been knocked out, sliding across the floor as they drag her. The hooded figures take the shackles and close them on the girl's wrists before walking away.

"Allow me to introduce you to-" Mordred turns around. The girl is unconscious on the ground. Mordred turns back to the camera. "Hmm. Hold on one second folks." Mordred walks off screen, but can be heard somewhat, "Go wake her the fuck up I have smut to write you dumbfucks!"

Two hooded figures walk back on stage, one has a stun baton. The figure lightly taps the girl with it. The girl screams, jumping awake and puts her back on the wall, cowering. The hooded figures walk off screen.

Mordred now walks back on screen. "Now! Allow me to introduce you to Delilah!"

"Where am I?! What is going on?! I want to go home!"

Mordred looks disappointed. "FINE! I'LL DO THAT TOO!" Delilah is a 30 year old trans woman from California. She's a college dropout, has had only one relationship with a cis dude and it ended badly, and now she's looking for love in all the wrong places~"

"I am?"

"Yes. You are. Today, Delilah will find true love. Or die trying I suppose, I don't know, it's not up to me. I'm just a host."

"But now, let me introduce you to the people she's gonna fuck!"

"Fuck?"

Mordred groans. "Yes, fuck, it's The Fucking Game, keep up girlie."

"Anyways, our first contestant, hailing from the forests out east, Gerold the Werewolf."

A big wolf walks out onto the stage. He stands at about 9 feet tall on two legs, covered in fur, hunched a bit, his big teeth obvious despite his snout being closed. He sits in the first yellow chair and looks into the camera and speaks, "My name is Gerold, but I go by Gere, because there are hundreds of werewolves, but there's only one Gerewolf." Crowd laughter is heard. What crowd? Who knows. "I deserve to have this girl as a personal fuck toy, because I am loyal and devoted. Though I may have a thousand victims, I'll have only one fuck toy. You'll never worry about where I am or who I'm with, I'm a werewolf, not a WHEREwolf." More crowd laughter.

The camera pans back to Mordred. "Ha ha ha isn't he a hoot? Now here's our second contestant, Lilith, the Demon Queen from Hell."

The camera pans back to the chairs, a tall woman with red skin walks onto stage. She plops into the second yellow chair, she has a black bra and black panties on, black hair to her shoulders, and big horns sticking out of her head. As she speaks, you can see her razor sharp teeth, "Hi there, I'm Lilith, and I'm a bat outta Hell." Mordred can subtly be heard saying "I don't think she knows what that phrase means...." Lilith continues, "I like long walks on the lava beach, I love to fuck, and baby, I know hell, so I have the experience to make this relationship work." The mystery crowd claps.

Once again, the focus is on Mordred. "Isn't she just lovely? A true romantic if I've ever seen one. And, now, our third contestant, Priscilla the Ghost Girl."

Back to the stage, a blue-ish, translucent being floats over to the middle chair. She looks like a cartoon ghost, big black circles for eyes, a mouth that's a line and moves to a circle shape as she talks, "Hello everyone, I'm Priscilla, the ghost with the most! I don't go out often, since I'm stuck to the house I'm haunting. But, that said, I'm a homeowner, I read a lot, and I love to stay home and give you all the attention you need." The mystery crowd can be heard going 'awww.'

"Wait she's done already?" Mordred whines before noticing the camera is back on her. "Oh, hi there, isn't she just the best?! Now, let's move on to our fourth contestant, Slosha the Slime Princess!"

Camera pans back to the chairs, and a green, moist, almost slug shaped being moves across the floor, leaving a trail the whole way. Once she gets to the fourth chair, she morphs her body into a humanoid shape, big breasts, big belly, even fake slime hair. As she sits down into the chair you can see the chair get moist through her body. "Hiiiiiiiiiii! I'm Slosha! I am the Princess of the great slime empire! I lovvvvve to eat, so you know I'm gonna have so much fun digesting you! But I love to play with my foooood, so if you become my sex toy I'll never leave you alone! And, since I'm royalty, you have to do whatever I tell you to do or I will have you executed ^_^"

Mordred speaks to the camera, "Holy fuck, isn't she just beautiful? Actual royalty on our show? That's so cool. Anyways, thank you readers for being patient, we're almost done. One final contestant, possibly the charismatic of them all, allow me to introduce you tooooo: Pumpkin!"

Back to the stage. A pumpkin falls from the roof into the last chair. It has no other discernible features. It can not speak. It is just a pumpkin. The mystery crowd goes crazy with applause.

"Isn't Pumpkin just lovely, folks? Now for the the game to truly to begin. Delilah will now pick which contestant she wants alone time with. And by pick, I mean she gets whatever you tell her she gets."

"Wait, what? I don't want this-"

"Did I tell you to speak?" Mordred says in a stern tone. Delilah goes quiet.

"That's right! It's you" Mordred points at you, the person reading this, "who gets to choose who Delilah gets fucked by!" Delilah gulps. "Now, reader, it's up to you, begin the game."

[annwrites]

— cregan stark quotes ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚⋆ | read

❝Whatever man marries you should be aware of just how blessed he is to have you to take to wife. By all the Gods—Old and New. And for you to, much more, one day be the mother of his children? I cannot imagine a finer fate. For if he does not realize it, he is wholly unworthy of having you.❞

❝I have questioned it: destiny. If it does exist, or if our lives are simply a series of choices we are forced to make day-by-day. But then I think of the Gods. The beauty of our world. The mysteries. The stories and legends.❞

❝Perhaps our destiny is something that chooses us, then, and not the other way around. At least for some. Others... We are forced to carve our own path. But, for those that remain, unable to see a way forward—mayhaps they have a helping hand guiding them closer. Until they finally find whatever it is that has been waiting for them. And that hand leaves—them able to then forge ahead on their own, the path before them lain plainly.❞

❝I would never betray your trust. I consider it a gift—a privilege, even—you sharing such hard truths with me.❞

❝What sort of man would I be if I let you sit there and shiver against the cold while I stay warm? It grieves me to think of you catching a chill while under my protection. Even if it would, mayhaps, keep you in my company longer.❞

❝She was ill-equipped for northern weather. I misliked seeing her cold and shivering. It pleases me to see her, instead, warm, and looked after by mine own hand.❞

❝I know my duty. As Lord of Winterfell, but much more, Warden of the North. Hard times call for hard sacrifices. For difficult acts. I will do what must be done. Not just because it is what is expected of me, but to honor my forebears, my name, my people, and kingdom. Any duty, great or small, is to be looked upon as a privilege. Not a burden. As a Stark, we do what we do in the name of honor—of what is true—instead of doing it out of personal benefit, or for some form of political gain.❞

❝It would grieve me to have you injured when I am so near to prevent it.❞

❝Then I am yours to confide in whenever your mind feels troubled and your worries too much to bear.❞

❝Are you warm enough, Princess? Should I fetch further comforts for you?❞

❝So, let us prevent it: our mutual agony of losing what can so easily be ours. Agree. Take my hand. And remain in the North where you belong. By my side, where you belong. You said once that the North felt like home to you. Princess—Y/N—you feel like home to me. So do not take yourself from me in the name of a fleet of ships or a small army. I beg of you.❞

❝I will give you the might of the North—and you, the title of Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North. I can think of no one more deserving.❞

❝I mean to have you with child sooner than late.❞ (...) ❝And many times thereafter.❞

❝I will not be liable to control myself once your body begins to change as my child grows inside of it.❞ (...) ❝I would not deprive you of my seed, or myself of you.❞

❝I would place his head at your feet in retribution.❞

❝Gods, if only you knew what it is like to make love to you.❞

❝The two of us shall be in death as we were in life—ever-together. Place us by one another’s sides, for I shall not rest, if we are parted, as she was my peace.❞

❝I hardly intend for there to be a moment where you are not heavy with my offspring, as you well know.❞

❝I should’ve known the first time I set eyes upon you I’d be reluctant to ever tell you no in anything.❞

[dcxdpdabbles]

i love summon dare au so much, I'd love to see the first date! i have this image in my head of the batfam spying on them, watching cass get increasingly flustered over the course of the date and wondering who this person even is, to so effortlessly destroy cass' composure, of all people

Alfred lets Cass finish her grounding earlier so she can buy a nice dress for her date with Danny. She spends the whole day running around different stores, speaking to personal shoppers, and asking Selina for advice.

She then raced home with multiple bags asking her siblings to rate the outfits. Since none of them were allowed near technology, it turned the boardgame night into a fashion show.

Cass insisted she wanted to be in a dress but couldn't be too formal or casual. She had bought every single one, hoping to give off this sense of perfectly approachable but still the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the county.

Dick was very excited about the summer dress, claiming the linac top and flowing white shirt with roses complimenting her skin and eyes. While Steph agreed with the color, she prefered the red halter dress, stating that it's eye catching and flowing elgeance better suited Cass.

Both Tim and Babs voted for the slipdress, claiming that it never hurt to show off her legs after all the roof-jumping and dancing she did. They said making it black just threw her attractiveness up a few notches and would really knock Danny's socks off.

Duke thought the same thing but thought Danny would lose their mind if Cass showed up wearing a black mini-skirt dress. He had no other reason other than, "That's it. That's Cass' killer look that will leave the mortal enchanted".

Jason claimed everyone looked nice, but it depended on the mood she was trying to set for her date. Specifically, he mentioned that since Danny and her already knew each other, she should focus on making sure the mood was more towards the romantic/seductive route rather than the usually first date to get to know each other.

Eventually, Cass settled on the slipdress because she wanted Danny to swoon, but she wasn't confident enough to wear the mini-skirt. They made her so nervous on a regular day that she felt she needed to wrok her way there.

Damian was swinging between being horrified Cass was agreeing to date the Ghost King and barricading himself in the BatCave Anti-paranormal chamber. Bruce had built it as a panic room after the last time they had to fight along side the Justice Leauge Dark and his kids kept getting possessed by a angry ghost.

At the time, it seemed like a great idea, but now Bruce was struggling to get his son out of it. He may have made it a little too well. Alfred allowed it only because the chamber had no technology, and Damian finished all his chores before sealing himself in. He was told to unseal the door at his bedtime- Cass isn't sure if Damian choose to hide away today since he knew Danny would be about or if he was jsut hiding for fear's sake.

Steph and Babs helped Cass with her makeup, making it a little heavier than her usual light makeup—only because she felt she needed to make an impact—and did her hair into a nice tussle wave pinned statically to frame her face. It took hours of preperationg but by the time the doorbell rang, Cass was more then satisfied by her appearence.

She just hoped Danny felt the same. Cass ran her hands down her outfit, smoothing out non existing wrinkles, before heading towards her bedroom door. Steph gave her one last hug with a squeal, just as she marched towards the stairway.

Jason's suggestion of making a big and dramatic entrance from the grand stairway may have been a bit over the top, but it was worth it to see Danny's lovely blue eyes widen when they locked onto her form.

They were dressed in a dark red suit coat and black pants. They had done their hair slicked back, similar to when they flew around in their ghost form, and frankly, they were so gorgeous Cass missed a step on the stairs.

She gasped, frailing her arms to try to gain some balance, but only succeeded in flinging herself into the railing with a yep. She felt more than saw her siblings startle, a few flinching in her direction, ready to catch her if needed.

Impish laughter filled the air as Danny chuckled, warmth, affection and amusment clinging to thier words. "Still as clumspy as ever."

The rest of the Wayne threw them bug eye looks as Cass laughs nervously. She never been anyhting but graceful in her entire life, yet with Danny it felt like the complete control of her limbs she always pride herself in seemed to vanished.

Cass in point, as she reached the bottom of the stairs, at the same time as Danny, her foot went sideways, and she stumbled into her date. They catch her quickly, turning the fall into a tender hold with a wide smile. "I can't belive you just fell for me."

Cass' embarrassment lessened as Danny winked at her, reminding her that this person had seen her at the worst part of her life. They were the ones that had done everything they could to establish communication when all she knew was the violence of her father. They had been the ones to teach her the stars' myths and wonders before she knew thier names.

They had been the ones that wrapped her in clothes from a regular store with what little they were able to pan-hand and been the same one who paid for her haircut, holding her hand as she watched a stranger approach her with a pair of sissors.

Her father didn't care if she knew how to speak, much less if she had a well-kept appearance. He almost seemed to like how feral she looked with her long, unkempt hair and league uniform.

Strange that it took an unhuman being to make her feel like an actual human for the first time in her life. Ghost King or not, Danny was the best thing that ever happened to her.

And they agreed to a date with Cass. She's the luckiest girl in the world. Any world.

"Ready?" Danny asks, holding out his arm. She carefully wraps her arm with their's, eyes landing on the gender fluid Pin she gifted them. It was the first thing she bought when Bruce adopted her.

Today, it reads them/they, still as shinny and well kept as the day she bought it.

"Yes," Cass whispers, leading Danny towards the door, hyper-aware of her siblings who are straining to look at them. She makes a face at the slack jaw Tim.

He had been in the middle of signing to Dick with the Bat-coded sign language acting like she could see him say "Love is making Cass act stupid."

Her sharp gaze cuts to Dick who doesn't seem to care as he signs back "Our sisiter is doomed"

She'll get them later. Just as they pass though the door way Danny snaps their fingers, opening a portal. Cass smirks when she hears Steph's and Duke's outraged cries.

They had been planning on following in thier bikes and Danny had likely noticed. Too bad for them she got a date with a walking portal maker. No one was spying on her night.

Or any future date if all things go well. She's crossing her fingers hoping it does.

[lua-stellar]

Messages For This October 🎃 Tea Leaf PAC 🍵 (Detailed!)

$2 Tarot Readings My Ko-Fi Masterlist

pile 1

so for pile 1 The first thing I noticed is the formation of a hat on the star symbol on my cup, this is a lucky sign because I feel in october you will encounter success and recognition of some sort, through trying something new and dipping yourself into a new skill perhaps or a new hobby. I get the feeling that some of you, very soon and early in october, might possibly get a new job or get into something new that will bring you success and recognition of some kind. I also see like two lovebirds directly under I feel after getting into this new opportunity you will experience a love and through social connection like parties for example or some other social gathering, i'm getting a strong energy that in the beginning of october pile 1 you will be very very social and you will be connecting with lots of people and whatnot. I get the energy that through these new opportunities about a week and a halfish maybe into october, you will have entered a new relationship, a new love of some kind and all these opportunities would have brought you to this new beginning. I feel that within a few weeks of this in october however this new love will have begun making you run all over the place in a way? I see a squirrel near the bottom of the cup, running from the venus symbol it looks like. I feel like this new love of yours would have you being sort of stressed in a way, running around alot, doing alot. Near the end of october I get the energy that you will have abandoned this 'new love' of yours, there is a giant hedgehog on the bottom-side of the cup, covering up mercury and mars. I feel that this 'new love' you encounter at the beginning of october, will not be what you really want and you will end up leaving it behind in favor of yourself and your needs, and genuinely I think thats a pretty positive outcome in a way. I also in general see alot of activity at the very end of october, I feel that the end of october for you will be very energetic and lively and again I just feel like you will be focusing on you and reevaluating what you want in life, in people, in love, like you will be reevaluating all that this october that's definently the energy I get from this reading. Now in your tea plate, which represents the energy of this upcoming october for you, has a question mark like shape right in the middle of the plate. So I feel that the energy for this upcoming october will be you questioning what you really want, reevaluating things you thought you wanted but didn't actually necessarily enjoy, I also see dots forming the shape of a wavy line showing you might be prone to some stress, and high emotions this october. But also in general your october will be very energetic you will be surrounded by others, I see you being very social this coming october, I see this with the amount of sporadic energetic dots that freckle the cup. I also see like a broken road like shape circling around the cup, directly going from the gemini symbol to the saggitarius symbol, I feel that this represents how this coming october you will face some challenges to overcome. I also see that this road like shape has two major breaks, I believe that this is reflecting also what I already read in the cup and thats that things for you might drastically change twice this month, you will enter a new opportunity, a new love even, and then you will leave it by the end of the month choosing yourself inevitably as this new thing in your life brings you stress. Another small thing I noticed in your plate is the shape of a human like person laying in the fetal position right below the aries symbol, I feel like this shows how you will be getting into new things this october, being a little impulsive as well but it leaves you drained and possibly stressed out.

pile 2

For pile 2 I see that throughout october you will be very disciplined, patient, and determined and hardworking as symbolized through the giant tortoise. I feel like you will be very hard working throughout the second week to the end of october and it certainly will pay off your hard work, I see a good omen for you pile 2 near the end of october. What looks to me like a boat, a good omen for success whether financial, also could be that you will around that time meet new people and new things in general will be coming into your life. I definently see that good things are coming your way, and fresh energy, and all of your hard work and discipline throughout october will certainly pay off. I definently can see that you will also be sociable through october, like I can see alot of energy and possibly going to social events etc. But mostly I see hard work and the rewards of your hard work coming this october. I also see a little symbol, large dots creating a line throughout the snake symbol, through mars and mercury. This I feel is a warning that there are some people this october that you will be communicating with that do not have your best interest in mind, and that to be cautious of who you surround yourself around. Don't confide in people you don't know very well this october. But overall in your tea cup pile 2 I see hard work and I see success coming your way. Now in your plate, which represents the general energy that this october will have for you, I see alot of clusters of dots in your plate. I can tell that this october you will be very busy, you'll be working hard I believe, lots of energy I get the vibe you will be surrounded by people, I see a cross in your plate it looks like a crucifixion cross (like the one from christianity) this cross represents the energy in october that you will be highly rewarded for your hard work, and it will pay off. But also I see a ring like shape that kinda fades into sporadic dots, directly under libra, scorpio and sagittarius. I feel like this energy could be a warning to be careful who you trust during this time, again I feel that this symbol represents people who you will encounter this october that will not have your best interests in mind, possibly manipulative people. Be careful who you confide in, don't trust everyone around you.

[tulliok]

Maybe this is strange, but. Do you have any advice for choosing skin and hair color for characters? You transfer the colors of Starlight and Trixie very well, and I would like to do the same with my/some ponies. But I don't know where to start.

That's not a strange question at all, skin is deceptively hard to color and work with. For me, I've gotten used to just eyeballing and adjusting from a lot of observational practice, but I can try describing it in a more technical way.

A good place to start is figuring out a character's race/ethnicity, so you can gather proper references. When you're looking at actual people, it's really important to not just view skin color as pale, medium, brown, and dark. Think about how hard it is for a lot of people to find the perfect foundation color in a makeup store. A white person with pinkish undertones looks completely different from a white person with olive undertones. Undertones also play a big part in the way that you shade skin. Lighting, shadows, and temperature can completely change how skin can look, so always consider those things while coloring a scene.

Play around as much as you can and really observe how skin color can vary around the world. It really all comes down to color theory and observation more than anything. With hair, I just use colors that frame the skin as nicely as possible.

Also a more personal gripe, do not use artist color picking guides ex: flesh cloud, flesh cubes. No disrespect to any artists that make these guides, I just don't think it's the right approach to understanding this specific subject.

[joeyalohadream]

Hi me again.

I saw your post about how you received a negative anon message and was hoping you didn’t mean me? I sent you an ask about how much I loved your clegan childhood best friends idea (like literally can’t stop thinking about it) and just suggested that you could give the idea to another great writer in the fandom. I think it’s just as cool to be the idea maker sometimes and I wasnt insulting you.

I really do love your writing but you do take a long time to post new stuff and that particular idea is just everything to me so I don’t want it to be in limbo.

like you posted a bit of an angsty story the other day and got people excited and now you haven’t mentioned it again. Just don’t want that to happen to the childhood story cause it’s such a good idea.

sorry for rambling I just had to come back and say sorry if I’m the anon that made you feel bad. Wasn’t my intention..

Sorry everyone that reads this but I'm taking some of Swifty's backbone for a minute and answering a negative anon. Hiding my response below the cut so you can scroll past without seeing my drama if you'd like...

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Of course it was your message that I was referring to.

In this fandom, full of the most wonderfully kind people I've ever interacted with, your message was the only negative one I've ever received. The fact that you could send that message, and now this one and somehow not understand that you're being incredibly hurtful is beyond me.

I wasn't going to respond to this message at all, just like I didn't respond to the first one you sent (just flat out deleted that one), but someone posted about my 'childhood friends au' today and brought it all back.

I checked out library books for research for that story and wrote the most detailed outline of any story I've ever thought up. And after your message, I returned the books and scrapped the story because you made me feel like garbage.

You flat out told me to give my idea to a specific writer in the Mota fandom that would 'turn it into a masterpiece'. You and I can agree on the fact that the writer you mentioned is one of the most talented fanfic writers around. They are. But to be so blatantly rude to me about my own writing and to call it 'advice'? Come on. You have to know you're being an asshole.

I'm a kind person. I'm also sensitive and hate confrontation and it even makes my stomach hurt to respond to this message because I don't like being unkind to ANYONE. I work two jobs. I work 60 hours a week most weeks. The fact that I find time to write anything is something I'm proud of and you calling me 'inconsistent' is just absolutely unempathetic.

Since you keep choosing to remain anonymous, this is the only way I can know I reach you to tell you this:

If you follow me, unfollow me. Don't interact with my posts. Don't read my stories. And stay the hell out of my inbox.