#young single adult wards

[nerdygaymormon]

What are some strategies you'd suggest for someone who wants to remain active and engage with the church but isn't in the best ward?

I'm in a YSA college ward right now, and the last month of church lessons have been aggressively heteronormative and focusing in on needing marriage, dating, and sealings as an integral part of being a good member/getting into heaven. My bishop is even consistently asking about who I'm dating and pressing me to get my endowment. Someone in the ward even said that the 'think celestial' talk convinced them to start dating even though they didn't really want to because they needed to be sealed to get into heaven

I feel like I'm invisible and unwanted because I don't want to get married and couldn't get sealed to my anyways partner under the current rules. I want to continue engaging with church and finding ways to learn and feel the spirit, but at the moment I feel like I'm being aggressively pushed away.

There's a lot I like about Young Single Adult (YSA) wards--they give young adults many opportunities to serve, they generally are more open about queer topics & people, they often have a lot of social events which helps build community and belonging.

My experience with YSA wards is there's also a LOT of pressure to date & marry (male+female marriage only), and if someone isn't feeling like this is the time for them to get married then they're going to feel dissonance.

People can feel like it's not the right time for them to think of getting married for a variety of reasons. Maybe they're planning to serve a mission, maybe they're 19 and are working towards becoming independent and feeling like an adult, maybe they're focused on their education or their career, maybe they're queer and not ready to deal with the church issues that come with dating.

The YSA ward doesn't need to preach marriage in order for people to get married. Simply having a large number of single people and providing opportunities for them to socialize will naturally lead to many of them pairing off.

I've yet to hear of a YSA ward where there wasn't a lot of talk about future spouses & future families, temple marriages, lectures about dating instead of hanging out, engagements are announced at the pulpit, and messages on becoming the kind of person that we want to marry. It would be nice if church could be about coming closer to Christ and not about a push to get married. Officially YSA wards are for helping younger people come closer to Christ, but since people who get married have to leave the ward, that seems to underline that this is the main purpose of YSA wards.

As requested, here's a few strategies:

You are in charge of your own social and spiritual experiences and growth. You can be responsible for talking to others and getting to know them instead of waiting for them to come chat with you. You can be upfront that you're not currently looking to get married but do want meaningful friendships. If the bishop is saying he thinks you should do the endowment ceremony at the temple, tell him when you're ready to pursue that opportunity you'll let him know.

Use church as an opportunity to lift others. One thing that always strikes me when I read about Jesus' interactions with the marginalized (women, foreigners, the ill & mentally challenged, people without official power in the church or without much social standing) is their interactions with Him uplifted them. Help others feel good about themselves when they're with you. Bolster their confidence. Show interest in the things they're interested in. Point out the good in others.

Take opportunities to turn lessons about dating into seeking Christ by answering questions and making comments in a way that changes the focus. You could share that your own answers to prayers indicate this isn't the time for you to be seeking a companion but instead to grow your spirituality and discipleship and understanding.

Be your own person. Be willing to say things that others might not. For example, if someone is temporarily home from a mission, you could say if they want to go back then that's great, but they don't have to go back out to the mission field if they don't want to, that Jesus loves them either way.

Best of luck to you

[splatzie]

So, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has adjusted the age range for which people go to which single (or young single) adult ward.

This could impact me. I am in the age range where I could move away from my Single Adult ward (that I have rather liked) and be placed in the Young Single Adult ward instead. The leaders in my ward get to decide (so says the article). I wonder how that dialogue will go at Sacrament Meeting on Sunday.

Will they say they want us to stay? Will they encourage us to change wards? Will they read the letter and then awkwardly say nothing?

I have already thought about it. Unless they clearly state that they want us to stay, I have decided to move wards. It will only be until I turn 36, and then I can go back to the ward I have liked before.

It's a little odd. To be old enough to run for president of the United States, but suddenly be young enough to be in the young single adult ward again.

I hope, that if I go, I will make friends. And that I will be able to maintain connections with my old ward. And that I will have something to bring to the table for the short time I am in a new ward.

I hope, that if I stay, I will respond with gratitude, that I will continue to love the people in my ward.

I know that either way, the gospel is still a guiding light in my life, that I will continue to try to make the world a better place, and that Heavenly Father loves me.

I wondered, for a minute, if this change was About Me. If the Young Single Adult wards need more 32+ year olds for some reason. Or if I was supposed to be the exception and feel extra loved while being kept in the Single Adult ward despite a gate opening for change.

I have decided not to worry about it until I get there.

God Speed and God's Light and Love to anyone who is also facing this quandary. I'm ready to talk about it with you.

[jensjumbledmess]

My review/thoughts on Seventh Son by Joseph Delaney. (This particular version contains both book 1, The Last Apprentice: Revenge of the Witch & book 2, The Last Apprentice: Curse of the Bane).

Star & Spice Rating: ⭐️ 4/5, 🌶️ 0/5 (for both books)

TWs: There's a bit of gore in Curse of the Bane and the description of a dead cat.

Judging a Book By It’s Cover: Nothing too special about this one, just the movie poster cover. I'll give it a 6 out of 10 just because Ben Barnes is on it.

✨📖Review📖✨

"I've just given birth to a baby boy,' she wrote, and he's the seventh son of a seventh son. His name is Thomas J. Ward, and he's my gift to the County. When he's old enough we'll send you word. Train him well. He’ll be the best apprentice you've ever had, and he'll also be your last.'"

This is a book that I wish I had found in middle school. (I hated reading then, but I think I would have really enjoyed this series and I think it would have gotten me into reading sooner.) That’s one thing to keep in mind before you start reading this, it’s certainly a book for young adults (I would say around the ages of 12 to 16). I wouldn’t consider it young adult in the way that ACOTAR or Shadow & Bone/Six of Crows is considered young adult. So it's probably better to consider it "middle grade". It feels like a good introduction to fantasy and has a very easy/simple reading style to it. Tom Ward, our protagonist is 13 after all, and at times his thought process and the sentence structure feels like it reflects that. (It took me a minute to adjust to this style.) Another thing I would warn readers of is not to go into reading this expecting what you saw in the Seventh Son movie; it’s very different. The characters feel different and they were aged up for Hollywood.

I can’t quite explain it, but both of these books (especially the first one) gave me a “classic fairy tale” type feeling? I think part of it is the little dashes of advice or morals that are sprinkled throughout the story. Things like:

"Trust the voice inside you. It's rarely wrong,” or “—as my mam once told me, you never know just what you can do until you try. So I'm going to try. I'm going to try just as hard as I possibly can because I want her to be really proud of me.”

I found Tom to be sweet, brave, and he has some pretty great morals for his age. There were times when I felt bad for him, when he would come home from his apprenticeship and he was treated differently by his family (tough love from his strong mother and contempt from his older, and in my opinion, jealous brother, who I absolutely could not stand and rolled my eyes at any time we had to deal with him.) I enjoyed the slight eeriness of some of the situations that he ended up in, and I can actually see this series potentially getting a bit darker as it goes and as Tom ages. I look forward to seeing what kind of man (and Spook) he ends up becoming.

TL;DR: this makes a great entry fantasy book for young readers, and I enjoyed it even as an adult!

Thank you for reading! If you liked my review/thoughts, consider following me on [GoodReads], [Bookstagram], or [Threads]! (I tend to post on GoodReads & Threads first!)

[teaboot]

Currently fixated on the concept of Urban Fantasy Clickbait

"With The Cost Of Groceries Skyrocketing, Many Young Adults Turn To Vampirism To Manage Household Expenses"

"An Answer Today's Housing Crisis? This Single Parent's UnusualDeal With The Fair Folk"

"A Hairy Situation! Down On Her Luck, This Druid Turns To Scavenging In Beast Form- Terrifying Suburban Homeowners"

"Buried In Debt? Local Leprechaun May Have Hacked The System"

"Boggart Or Poltergeist? Top Ten Warning Signs You Need To Know!"

"Elementary Student Raises 15k For Revenant Research After Grandfather Is Raised From The Dead"

"Heartwarming! After 20 Years In The Wild, This Lost Familiar Is Reunited With Their Witch"

"You Could Be Making This Mistake! Experts Warn Against Using These Common Sigils In Your Wards"

"An Incredible Victory! This Seelie Fae Wins Custody Battle For Two-Year-Old Boy"

[rafeandonlyrafe]

never truly gone

words: 2k

alternative universe where rafe was the one to fake his death instead of ward

warnings: funeral, discussions of death and grief, established relationship, murder confession (canon murder), implications of smut (no actual sex)

you are barely tuned in to the words being spoken at the funeral, lost in the haze of grief. dressed in the same outfit you wore for your one year anniversary with rafe. it was his favorite. was. the word hits you like a ton of bricks.

it didn't feel real for the longest time, part of it still doesn't, the feeling in your gut that your boyfriend isn't truly gone, but as you pick your head up and look around, you realize you have to get over the stage of denial.

“are you okay?” your mom whispers, reaching over to squeeze your hand. you rip it immediately out of her grip. of course you're not okay. who could be after their first love, their high school sweetheart, blew up?

“now is the time that we invite anyone who would like to say a few words up to the mic.” the pastor says, looking out into the crowd, members of rafes family having already spoken.

ward turns around to look at you. he invited you to sit in the front row when you first arrived, but you didn't want that kind of attention, your every reaction being scrutinized, if you’re crying too much, or not reacting enough.

“would you like to speak y/n?” 

you look at the crumpled, tear stained piece of paper with some words scribbled on it.

“i-i don't know if i can.” you admit. ward seemed so strong when he spoke, the same pillar of community he seems to be when speaking at town halls or midsummers.

“whatever you say, im sure rafe would appreciate it.”

you nod, take a deep breath, then stand. your mind seems to blur as you walk to the front, the pastor greeting you with a soft hug then leading you to the podium.

you clear your throat before looking down at the paper. 

“i never imagined a life without you. you were the first man i ever loved and i can't… i can't see myself ever having that same love again. we changed each other so much. we went from kids to young adults planning out their life together. i love you so much, rafe. i always will no matter how much time passes.” you vow.

your next words turn robotic, talking about the family he left behind, his accomplishments, things that don't actually matter to you but you know should be said. you recount the five years you were together, knowing someone is no doubt scoffing at how little it is, but it was your whole world.

you manage to hold in your sobs until you sit back down. you spend the rest of the funeral with your head down, unable to look at the pictures hung around the church.

-- 2 months later --

you let out a groan as you turn over in bed, not wanting to wake up, wanting to spend another day rotting under the covers.

“it's almost noon.” your mom says, peaking in to the door.

“yeah.” you say, sniffling as you see the photo on your nightstand when you go to look at your alarm clock. you can't bring yourself to move it, even if it makes you cry every time you see rafes smiling face. “i know.”

“maybe we could go out to dinner. or order some pizza? you need to eat, baby.” you know your mom is just looking out for you, but the thought of food makes you feel sick, eating at this point when your stomach truly needs it.

“yeah, maybe.” you pick your phone up off the nightstand and unplug it. “im gonna take a shower and get dressed.”

“that's good.” your mom says. “i love you, y/n.”

“love you too mama.” you pause for a beat when she doesn't shut your door. “thank you.”

you mom nods before exiting. you open up your phone to the gallery that causes you as much pain as it has joy, flicking through your final photos with rafe before sighing and getting up to shower with him fresh in your mind, determined to not forget a single thing about him.

--

you're about to go to sleep, pass out and hopefully not dream of anything. you went out for dinner like you promised your mom, trying to keep a brave face for her. she didn't even mention anything when you came back from an extended trip to the bathroom with tear stains on your cheeks and red eyes.

you grab your phone, swallowing harshly to stop yourself from crying again as you click on your messages, rafes contact still pinned to the top. 

you click on your messages. the last text was rafe saying he loved you. you never got to text him back, but you know he was aware of how much you loved him.

you scroll back for a bit, smiling at his jokes even with the tears in your eyes.

you lock your phone and place it on your chest, looking up at the glittering stars through your skylight. “i miss you so much, rafe. why'd you have to leave me?”

your phone vibrates. you almost ignore it, not caring who it could be from, you've practically ditched all your friends, hoping they won't hold it against you when you finally feel good enough to hang out again, if that time ever comes.

something in you makes you pause when you go to plug your phone in, makes you hesitate and open up the text.

baby, im so sorry. please meet me outside, im at your dock.

love, rafe

you frown at the text from the unknown number, considering ignoring the obvious prank as you fling off your covers, body now fueled with rafe, but when you look out the window, there is an unfamiliar boat tied to your dock.

you slip on your shoes, not really thinking of a plan as you head outside, rushing through the yard to find out whoever is playing tricks on you.

the moon barely lights your steps as you stomp down the wooden dock until you're close enough from the boat for them to hear you and far enough from your house to not wake up your mom.

“this isn't fucking funny!” you scream. “whoever is pranking me, you're fucked up!”

a figure steps out of the boat and onto your dock. it takes your eyes a second to adjust, to really take in what you're seeing, to know it's reality.

“n-no.” you take a staggering step back. “im-im seeing things.”

“it's really me, baby.” the word hits you like a bullet as you fall to your knees, not caring that they dig into the wood. “i can explain everything but-but can i touch you? ive missed you so goddamn much.”

“this isn't real. you're- you're dead. im dreaming.”

rafe moves closer, dropping to his knees as well and pulling you into a tight hug. it isn't until he touches you that you know that it's not a dream, hes real and warm against you.

“oh, god.” you begin to sob, clutching onto rafe, clambering closer to him, climbing onto his lap and hugging him so tightly it's like your bodies could become one.

“im so fucking sorry baby. i love you. i love you so much.”

“i love you.” you sob, pulling back to look rafe in the eye. “i-i love you and you can never leave me again.”

you'll demand answers later, but now you're just happy your initial gut instinct was right, your boyfriend is right here, alive and well.

“can i kiss you? you're probably pissed at me but-”

you don't wait for rafe to finishing, surging forward and smashing your lips against his, all the passion and feelings of the past two months without him, but also the past five years of love, put into your bodies as you kiss under the moonlight.

“baby-” rafe gasps after a minute. “i-i need to get back on the boat. just in case i’m seen. come with me.”

“okay.” you're not sure what it means, but you're not going to let rafe out of your sight.

rafe climbs onto the boat before helping you, hand carefully stroking over yours as he leads you into the cabin.

“did you tell anyone that i messaged you?” he asks, sitting down on the bed and pulling you to his side.

“no.” you shake your head. “my mom doesn't even know.”

“that's good.” rafe nods. “i faked my death.”

“i can tell.” you giggle, unable to keep away for much longer as you press your lips against his in a quick peck before curiosity has your tongue loosening. “how? why?”

“my dad planned it for me. the boat was rigged to explode and i went and suited up in scuba gear. the why…” rafe hesitates for a moment, and you can read every emotion on his face.

“just tell me.” you say. “you can't hurt me. you can't make me mad at you, not when i just got you back.”

“i killed sheriff peterkin.” rafe swallows harshly. “it was to protect my dad, but of course nobody would believe me.”

“i believe you.” you tell rafe, tucking your head into his neck. “that must have been so scary, but i know how you'd do anything to protect the people you love.”

“my dad didn't want me to tell you at all. i agreed to wait until after it happened, but it all moved so fast, and when i got to where i was supposed to hide out for a while, i realized i had no way of contacting you. i had to steal a phone and this boat and leave the safehouse.”

“what's the plan now then?” you ask.

“have you come back to the safehouse with me. it's in the caribbean, on a gorgeous island. i will provide everything you need, we won't have to hide there.”

“and what will i tell my family? tell everyone?”

“well, your mom loves me.” rafe smiles, knowing he's right. “i think we can trust her to keep the secret. as for everyone else… maybe you just need some time away from the outer banks after what happened. maybe some cousins in michigan or something?”

“whatever.” you shake your head. “i just need to be with you.”

-- one week later --

“when you said safe house…” you look around the mansion. “this is not what i was picturing.”

“the locals here think im a cousin of the cameron family. allows me to stay here without much suspicion. i do keep a low profile and stay out of touristy areas just in case, but we can do whatever you want here. the ocean is right outside our doorstep.”

“and money? do i need to get a job?” you've never worked before, having grown up wealthy, but you're willing to do anything to keep your life going with rafe, having told your mom who didn't believe you until rafe stepped into the room. she saw the spark in your eyes and recognized it as the same one in hers when she looked at your father, and her time was also cut short when he passed young.

she made you promise to call and to let her visit every couple months, just enough to not be suspicious.

“no.” rafe shakes his head. “my dad funnels me money. cash, so no one gets suspicious.”

“honestly, i could just stay forever in the house and in the backyard.” you laugh, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“my dad will figure something out eventually, i don't expect you to hide for the rest of your life.”

“okay.” you shrug. now that you're with rafe, you don't care. you're going to be happy no matter what after feeling the pain of losing him.

“there is one more room i want to show you…” rafe picks you up, your legs slotting around his waist like nothing ever happened. 

you laugh as you kiss his neck, knowing exactly where he's taking you.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry

[kirain]

I decided to make adult designs and "where are they now" stories for all the child tieflings who are confirmed to survive to Act 3.

Unbeknownst to her, Arabella was a latent sorcerer with a natural connection to the Weave. Her powers likely would've manifested at puberty, but touching the idol of Silvanus imbued her with wild druid magic, multiclassing her prematurely. This caused an internal struggle between the two powers, which threatened to rip her and anyone around her apart. Fortunately, with Withers' guidance, she set out to follow the Weave and found balance in her new, strange abilities. For years she traveled Faerûn alone, honing her skills and making peace with her past. Eventually, she became known as the "Wondering Storm", so attuned to nature some would mistake her for Silvanus' Chosen. Those who crossed her, however, would swear she was Jergal's Chosen; able to end a life with a single stare. Though not unkind, Arabella became feared by many for her stoic personality, mysterious presence, and peculiar command of the Weave. It seemed that wherever she was needed, she would inexplicably be.

Though Raphael went silent, Mol continued to enjoy, and perhaps abuse, the gifts from her patron. With the Absolute defeated, she quickly clawed her way up the ranks of the Guild, eventually becoming a pseudo ward to Nine-Fingers Keene. For years she would sharpen her skills, mentored by Keene and her most trusted associates, until she challenged the notorious crime lord to a duel for leadership. Much to her surprise, Keene lost, and was therefore forced to relinquish command to the young tiefling. Seeing the move as a betrayal, however, the Guild's loyalty was split, causing the criminal powerhouse to fracture. This led to a dark time for the Guild, with many in Baldur's Gate referring to it as the "Outlaw Civil War". Much blood was shed during this conflict, but eventually Mol turned the tides in her favour, running Keene and those still loyal to her out of the city. She would go on to rebuild the Guild in her image, successfully and more fearsome than ever; though, when she approached her old colleagues with an invitation to join, they all declined.

Once he managed to enter the city, Mattis tried to find his companions from the Grove, but he ultimately turned his sights to conning rich families with "panaceas from the hells". For a while, he flourished under this racket, until his scheme was exposed by jealous competition. This led to him being violently assaulted by angry customers, nearly ending his life—he only survived by rolling into a rapid canal. After being saved by a kind, impoverished couple who fished him out of the water, he spent nearly three months confined to a bed. His recovery was slow and agonizing, but hardly discouraging. Instead of succumbing to his misery, he took the time to plot his revenge. With the couple's help, he learned the laws of the land and revived his strength. Then, when able, he cut his hair, disguised his face, spied on the man who wronged him, and subsequently tricked him into signing his business over to the couple. Together, they turned the questionable business into something respectable. Mostly. Mattis' silver tongue finally became an asset, rather than a survival tactic, though he was never above a good swindle.

Ide and Umi took up arms during the Absolute's attack on the city, each of them basking in the action. Realising that Umi had developed an insatiable bloodlust, and itching for more battles herself, Ide suggested they enlist into the army. Though technically too young, the new General—appointed by High Duke Ravengard after the fall of the Absolute—accepted them as apprentices until they came of age.

Though their time with the Flaming Fist was imperative to their training and survival, they found the rules and hypocrisy of the troop disheartening, and even more so when the General died. Eventually they deserted, leaving Baldur's Gate entirely and starting a small band of vigilantes. To some, they were a menace. To others, they became heroes of the Sword Coast. No matter the case, Ide and Umi were inseparable, never seen apart.

Inspired by his saviours, Mirkon continued to write stories about his time in the Grove and his rescue from the harpies. He never found his parents, but he refused to live in the slum's orphanage. Life was hard for the young tiefling, often forcing him to grovel for food and coin. On the worst days, he found comfort turning his stories into songs, which he slowly morphed into a semi-profitable street act. This eventually caught the attention of Alfira, who one day happened to be passing by. Recognising his talent, and overjoyed to be reunited, she took him in and taught him how to play the violin. Together, they created a lucrative show that expanded well beyond the Elfsong Tavern, which aided Alfira in opening her dream college. She and Lakrissa would soon adopt Mirkon, and he would later become one of the most beloved and celebrated instructors at the college.

Though working as a hawker for the Baldur's Mouth kept Silfy fed and relatively sheltered, she grew listless. Dealing with rude and racist customers hardened her enough to snap back, resulting in her termination. With nowhere to go, she found herself wandering into Ramazith's Tower, where she implored Rolan for a job. Feeling for her plight, Rolan put her to work stocking shelves and filling orders. It wasn't exciting work, but she was safe and satisfied, until one day a customer's tome exploded, causing a flurry of rainbow flames that whirled into the shape of a unicorn. This event, though frightening, would inspire Silfy to start reading the books in the shop, with the help of Tolna and Rolan. To everyone's surprise, she proved to have an impressive aptitude for magic, and she soon found herself enthralled. Within just a few years, Silfy would be accepted into Blackstaff Academy, where she would excel in her studies and catch the eye of the great Vajra Safahr. She would offer Silfy a position in the school, as well as a mentorship, but Silfy would politely decline, graduate, and return to Bauldr's Gate. Her true home.

[faeriekit]

A brief snippet of Time/DimensionTravel!Tim (which I found as a draft in my docs)

There was a bell at the door. 

Alfred Pennyworth did nothing as dramatic as to jolt straight upwards in alarm, but he did find himself pausing. After all, there were no deliveries scheduled, and a ring at the door meant that someone had bypassed several of Wayne Manor’s many security measures. 

There was no Mister Wayne present on the premises to make decisions. There was only Alfred, in custody of the home, and the ghost of Waynes long since gone from the home itself. 

There was nothing for it. Alfred quietly retrieved a revolver from its place underneath the wood paneling in the hall and gathered himself for the long walk to the door. 

The closer he drew to the front entrance, the more factors of the situation made themselves known. There was a pounding on the roof, and on exposed windows. It was raining. The night found outside ancient window frames was black, and opaque, and determinably wet. 

Something thumped. Alfred was not entirely sure it was thunder. The revolver in his coat dragged his consciousness back to its weighted body over and over again. 

Finally Alfred made it to the front door. There was a peephole, but Alfred didn’t risk his eye to use it; if there was someone on the other side, it would become obvious that there was an observer if they had elected to peer in as well. No. Instead he reached for a mirror— and, passed on from the mirrored ornaments hung in a nearby window, Alfred could see a single body on the other side of the front door. 

Well. There was one way to determine the man’s motives. Would it were that Alfred wasn’t alone in Wayne Manor at the moment. 

The four locks came undone, a bar, a chain, and two cylinders. It took considerable strength to pry open the doors— a deterrent against possible invaders— but Alfred knew to never look as though one was struggling. The image of strength was often just as important as the ability to achieve in itself. 

Alfred pulled open the door. 

On the other side was a…teenager. Alfred would be hard-pressed to consider the figure “an adult.”

The boy was practically swimming in the rain, with nothing but a thin, black, long-sleeve shirt and soft pants to defend himself with. He was shoeless. He was soaked to the bone. 

Despite that, he was past every security measure around Wayne Manor with no evidence as to how. 

“Good evening,” Alfred greeted the lad, despite the odd hour of eleven forty-five at night. “I am afraid the master of the house isn’t home, despite your trek. I am afraid I will have to ask you to depart.” 

“Alf—” the boy started. And then his teeth clicked shut. Unusual. It was common practice to use knowledge as a weapon against one’s enemies, but rarely did that knowledge include the name of the waitstaff. “My apologies. I didn’t…mean to call on you so late. But I came here to meet with you, Alfred Pennyworth. I come with a proposal.” 

…Alfred had no appropriate response to that. One white-flecked eyebrow rose above the other.

The boy, recognizing Alfred’s disinterest, carefully bowed. His hands came together. His back bent. Depending on what this visitor knew, he may have understood that Alfred was perfectly capable of erasing problems that might arrive with the Manor’s owner’s absence. 

“Information about your,” the boy paused. “...Former ward, in exchange for sanctuary.” 

Alfred did nothing so dramatic as to gasp, but still, his breath hitched in surprise. If the boy noticed, he did not respond; his eyes stayed low, his posture exposing his neck and back. 

No one, not even Alfred, had heard from Master Bruce since his…unwelcome departure from medical school. If this boy knew where the not-quite-so-young Master had vanished…

Alfred’s grip on the door tightened. “I imagine, then, that I ought to ask you inside.”

Shivering, and subservient, the boy rose from his bow to follow him indoors. 

*

The boy looked no larger in a swathe of towels than he had in the rain outside. 

Damp, with wet black hair smeared over his face and clothes clinging to his person, the boy looked no more restored in a wrap of two fluffy guest towels than he had in soaked clothes alone. 

He did not act as though he was an urchin, used to disrespect, happy to be helped. He acted as though he was a serpent in a maze: clinging to walls and wary of windows, and still, ultimately, royal. 

The boy took a swallow of Alfred’s second-best black tea. If there were no witnesses, Alfred would put money towards the prospect that the boy would have chugged the cup down instead. The mug was carefully lowered to the table. 

“...As of three weeks ago, the date was set for Talia al Ghul to marry Bruce Wayne in the custom of her people,” the boy begins. 

Alfred’s mug nearly slipped from his fingers. He said nothing. There was nothing to say. Alfred was no longer his legal guardian— still, if there was to be a marriage, he should have expected to see some sort of notice at least—

“He doesn’t know,” the boy continued, his lips bloodless and cold, “Because no one has told him. The marriage is not legally binding without paperwork, but she will consider it so, and expect him to continue with their union as spouses. Spousal consent is not traditionally considered to be necessary for their union.” 

Alfred’s lips narrowed. “I…see.” His boy had always wanted something more akin to adventure than domestic responsibility. It appeared as though he had found it. 

“He will leave,” the boy said, blue eyes pointed to the ground, “And depending on how she responds, his would-be-wife will either attempt to follow him before she ultimately returns, or she will attempt to keep him there. One will result in a fight, and the other will not, but either way, I would expect him to return to Gotham in, perhaps…anywhere between one to three months from today.”

The aging butler resisted the urge to sigh into his mug. Would it be that his boy had come into possession of better taste in his gallivant overseas. Considering his proclivities, however, he should have expected some form of complicated drama. “How did you come by this information?”

The boy blinked. “Oh,” he said. “I was being trained as his servant. I believe I was meant to be a wedding gift.” 

Alfred’s mug paused midair. “Trained,” he repeated. The boy was…young. Too young to be legitimately employed as a servant. And considering his ill-fated arrival… “In what manner were you trained?” 

The boy fidgeted carefully. Most men might not have noticed. His hand jerked the cup, although not enough for it to spill; he raised one knee over the other, mouth twisting. He did not want to reveal this piece of information; or, he feared the repercussions of doing so.

“Oh, you know,” the boy deflects, eyes cutting across the room. “In the usual arts. Accounting. Organization. Personnel Management. First aide. Anatomy, physiology. Hacking. Infiltration. Firearms. Poisons. Lethal and nonlethal weaponry. Sabotage.” 

Alfred stared. 

The boy’s expression turned sheepish. “...To be fair, Talia really, really thinks she can convince him to join her father’s ninja cult. It won’t work, of course,” he quickly tried to reassure. “But. Um. She is rather convinced she can take his bloodline into her own and indoctrinate him into becoming assassin royalty. And have assassin babies with him.” 

…The mug was set down with a little more force than Alfred might have preferred.

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

My usual amount of Rhys bashing, Low Self Esteem, Mention of child abuse, Azriel threatens to unalive somebody

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

There weren’t many Illyrians in Velaris. And even less Illyrians who clearly had no clue how flying worked. 

Azriel watched the spectacle from a safe distance away. 

He didn’t really have a choice about that after all. 

Not if he wanted to enjoy a cup of tea out on his porch. The porch of that little comfortable lake cabin right in the mountains of Velaris. 

He had settled in for a Sunday afternoon with nothing to do for once. No pressing issues, no intelligence to sort through that couldn’t wait for a while…just him and his thoughts…and her . 

It was a young female, probably just on the cusp between girlhood and growing into an adult, with the lankiness of her limbs not yet fully subsided. 

Azriel did give her credit for being smart enough to find herself one of the mountain lakes in the mountains of Velaris…which had been a brilliant thing to do because every time she threw herself off one of the cliffs on the other side of the lake, she plummeted right into that icy water, wings trying and failing horribly to keep her adrift. 

It was probably less smart to do this right now, however,  when winter was just around the corner. Nobody was stupid enough to go swimming now…not if they didn’t want to turn into an icicle. 

Still, every time without fail, she somehow managed to drag herself back out of the water, to dry land and up the cliffs to do it again. Azriel could respect that kind of single-minded determination. 

It reminded him of himself…of his own first few attempts at flying…after he had gotten out of that cauldron-forsaken cell. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to this girl…what had happened to her that made her learn to fly now , when that was something that should have happened years ago…something that should have been natural to her…

She could extend her wings fully, so he didn’t think that she had been clipped…though maybe somebody had done a truly horrible hack job at it and that explained why her wings didn’t seem to hold her body weight…How did an Illyrian female end up in Velaris in the first place? 

Question over questions and he didn’t know the answers to it. 

It was peculiar…And it was making him sit up straight, watching her clamber up that cliff again, the grey dress she wore soaked with water and clinging to her figure. 

What had brought her here? Was this a…He didn’t think that she knew that he was there and watching her…He had warded this house with everything he had, had thrown every fucking glamour at it that he could, making it impossible to be seen if somebody didn’t know that it existed…and not many people knew that it existed in the first place. 

It had become his…little escape. Far away from the House of Wind or the River House…far enough that nobody would search for him here, but near enough that…well. 

If they needed him, Azriel was just around the corner. 

And he could get some sleep in the silence of the mountains surrounding him. 

Cassian and Nesta were never going to manage to be quiet. And quite frankly, that was a very particular kind of torture after last Winter Solstice. 

His High Lord had made himself very clear…and Azriel…well, that stubbornness that had meant that he had clung to Mor for 500 years…he couldn’t manage the same anymore. 

The very heart of him was exhausted. Exhausted from always, always not being the one chosen. Exhausted from never seemingly being good enough, never measuring up. 

So silently, quietly, Azriel had let it go. Let go of wishful dreams and stolen touches…Let go of that particular wish. 

He would never have a mate. He would never have a wife. He would just exist in his loneliness. 

It was better for everybody involved. 

Regardless of how envy burned deep in his chest…regardless of jealousy, regardless of what he wanted . Azriel should have figured out centuries ago that he never got what he wanted anyway. 

So why hope anymore? 

Why hope and have that hope dashed and have his heart broken again? And again and again and again?

Why not simply accept it? Why not try to make the best out of it? 

If he would end up alone, he could do it on his terms. Thus, that charming lake cabin with only one room he actually used. 

He liked it. Scratch that. Azriel loved it. 

Loved the quietness, loved how roomy and bright it was, the perfect antithesis to all of the years spent in that cell. 

And if he made this his home… his home …well, only he needed to be content here. 

His home. 

Nobody else needed to like it. Just him. His and his alone. The perfect place to be lonely all on his own. 

Master!   His shadows snapped at that moment and he startled. She hasn’t come up yet.

What? he demanded, his gaze immediately snapping up to the lake. 

No trace of her anyway. 

She jumped and hit her head. 

Why didn’t you fucking say something? he demanded harshly. Great. Now he needed to rescue her.

Definitely not how he wanted to spend his Sunday afternoon doing. 

She must have managed to catch an updraft, because he didn’t need to pull her from the depths of that lake. Though maybe that would have been better…It would have left her with fewer scrapes. 

Instead, she had landed in a heap in the shallows of the lake, water just knee high and Azriel hissed at the ice-cold water lapping against his skin as he gathered her up. 

She was unconscious, her skin pale and ice-cold to the touch. Nearly frozen solid. 

He pulled her into his arms, lifting her up and carrying her the few feet to dry ground, a hand immediately finding her pulse point. 

He looked at her face, at the black hair and skin that was pale and clammy and…

Oh. 

His. His . 

There she was. 

After 500 years, there she was. 

He touched her with shaking hands, with reverence. Cupping her cheek, feeling her rattling breath against his scarred hands, turning her to her side as she started coughing. 

Still unconscious…a wound on her forehead bleeding nearly sluggishly. 

The water she had inhaled came back up and he made sure that she didn’t swallow it back down nearly automatically, unable not to stare at her. 

His…His mate?

His mate. 

Just a slip of a female, small and delicate, cheekbones and clavicles standing out sharply. She could use some more fat on her, to be completely honest. She looked… emaciated , not just simply thin. Starved . 

And if her body hadn’t been the first clue…her wings were the second. He stared at the scars that crisscrossed where they protruded from her back…He knew scars like that. He himself had scars like that. Her wings had been bound to her back so tightly that whatever rope had been used had rubbed at the delicate skin covering the bones…rubbing it raw. 

He swallowed at that realisation, the fury in his chest bursting wide open. It wasn’t the only scar on these wings…there were more. No wonder she had difficulty flying. It was so bad that he wondered if she would ever be able to fly at all. 

Who had done this to her? 

If he ever found out, he would plunge Truthteller into their chest and make them regret ever having been born. 

His mate coughed again, sounding miserable. “You’ll be fine,” Azriel promised her fiercely. If he had a single thing to say about it…she would be fine. He would make sure that she would be fine. She was his now. 

His mate. 

The one person that he was allowed to care for…the one person he could pour all that attention and love onto that he normally held so tightly buried in his chest. His mate . 

She was his and he was going to make sure that she was treated properly now. 

“Come on, Sweetheart, we’ll get you warm and dry,” Azriel promised her, picking her up again. She weighed next to nothing to him as he cradled her into his arms and made his way back to his cabin. 

Warm and dry and he would do something against the wound on her head and the scrapes on the rest of her. He couldn’t do anything against how thin she was, but he could probably manage to scrounge up some soup or something… Anything and everything so that she would be fine. His mate. 

His . 

Azriel reached his cabin seconds later, putting her down next to the mattress he used as a bed.

He really should have invested in some fucking furniture, but with a regrettable lapse of judgment he hadn’t. 

He hadn’t because just for him, he hadn’t seen a need for it other than the necessities. A mattress was more than enough, no reason for a bed frame. No reason to put that mattress in an actual bedroom, if one corner of his living room and kitchen would work just as well. 

Well, he could change that. He would change that. His mate deserved a bed, and a proper closet and everything else her heart desired. 

He would make sure she would want for nothing. 

Get her out of her dress and underneath the blankets, he told the shadow sharply, who for once seemed to be silent in pure shock. 

He wasn’t going to touch her anywhere. Not like this. Not more than absolutely necessary. 

Instead, he got himself dry, a pot of water boiling on the stove, all the vegetables he had stocked in the cooling cabinet and the chicken he had bought to roast thrown in right along with it. 

Then Azriel raided his stock of healing supplies, bringing them to her bedside. 

Now, safely dressed in an old dry shirt of his and tucked under every blanket his shadows could find in the house, her skin was still cold but no longer icy. Thawing. 

He dabbed at the wound on her forehand and wrapped the scrapes that covered her hands…hands that were blistering and covered with a rash. Hands that were definitely used to harsh physical work. 

These weren’t the hands of a lady. These were the hands of somebody that worked for a living. 

Azriel tucked her hands under the blankets with the rest of her, and gently tucked a straw curl back behind her ear…and then came up short when he realised that…that her ear…it was pointed . Not the usual rounded ear of a pure-blood Illyrian. Pointed like a High Fae. 

Oh . 

She must be half Illyrian, half High Fae. 

Exceedingly Rare… but not impossible. Rhys was the proof of that. 

Master! He startled a second time, glaring at his shadows. Why did they keep startling them? And why were they screaming at him in pure excitement? 

Only then, he saw the tendril of shadows. Hesitantly twirling out from her hair. 

Not one of his. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew. 

This wasn’t one of his shadows, this wasn’t…

Oh. 

Was she…

Are they… hers? he asked, nearly hesitantly. Was she…just like him? A shadowsinger ?

He had never gotten to meet another one. He had never…There had never been anybody that had explained to him how they worked, how he could master them…all of it…he had learnt through hard work and determination and not often the feeling that he was truly going insane. 

He had never thought that he would get to meet another shadowsinger ever. He had thought that maybe it was just a quirk of fate that also in this one ability, he would be unique, removed from everybody around him…Given that was how he felt any day of the week. 

Yes, they are, his shadows answered excitedly, a few tendrils of his slowly approaching hers…that seemingly wilted away, hesitantly. He wanted to reach out and cradle them in his hands…make sure that her shadows and his mate understood that no harm would come to her from him. 

How high were the chances that his mate, the one the mother picked for him, would be a shadowsinger just like him? 

He swallowed.  

Ask them for her name? he requested from his shadow hesitantly, wondering if they were able to communicate with hers…if he could talk to her shadows…if she could talk to his…

Cilla, the shadows answered after a moment. Cilla . Her name was Cilla. 

Then very quietly:  They are begging you not to hurt her. 

Somebody thrust a knife into his heart and twisted. 

Of course, they would ask that. Of course. 

They didn’t trust him at all. Why should they?

She wouldn’t be a shadowsinger if she hadn’t spent years feeling so alone that the shadows started talking back to her. Why should she trust him?

I am not going to hurt her. I swear that to them on my life, he promised fiercely. He would not hurt her. Never. 

She was his mate . 

He would spend the next few centuries trying desperately to make sure that he was worthy of her, nothing else. He was not going to hurt her. Not if he had any choice in that matter. 

His mate. His mate . He was going to take care of her, even when it was the last thing he did. 

Nobody was ever going to hurt her again, not if Azriel had a single thing to say about it. 

He was going to draw his line into the sand just like Enalius had down all these millennia before him at the Pass. And whoever would cross it, they would rue that day. 

It was easy enough to tug harshly at the dormant thread Rhys had long ago left in his mind…easy enough to let his brother into the ante-chamber of his mind once he had his attention. 

I won’t be available next week. 

Are you asking me for a vacation, Az? Rhys asked with some amusement. No. He wasn’t asking. 

He was going to take the next week and get to know his mate and nobody was going to stop him. Unless she told him no. 

It’s not a request. This is me informing you that I won’t be available, Azriel gave back, his voice even. 

He could nearly hear Rhys’ mental sigh. Is this still about you and Elain? Rhys asked him, long sufferingly.  

There is no me and Elain, Rhysand, Azriel shot back. Rhys had taken care of that. Though he probably did owe his High Lord a bottle of some ridiculous expensive alcoholic beverage for that. No Elain, which meant he was free to conduct his love life however he saw fit. Which meant that if Cilla was willing to give him a chance…

Then what it is about? Rhys asked him. 

Azriel could tell the truth. But he had absolutely no fucking want to do that. Rhys had made himself very clear last Winter Solstice. And Azriel didn’t want anybody to meddle. Cilla was his mate and nobody else’s and the only thing that mattered was what she wanted. Not what anybody else thought about her or their Mating Bond or anything else. 

I have some things to take care of that need my undivided attention, he said, his voice hard. Making it very obvious that Azriel wasn’t interested in answering any questions about it. 

And you couldn’t tell me that weeks ago? 

No. 

Fine. 

It’s not like it would have mattered to him if Rhysand had disagreed. Azriel was still not going to come in next week. 

It wasn’t like took many days off in the last few centuries. He was probably long overdue for a vacation. 

A soft noise pulled him away from that particular line of thinking and he looked down at Cilla, her nose scrunched up, shifting slightly. 

“It’s alright,” he promised her, keeping his voice calm and easy. “Can you open your eyes for me, Cilla?” he asked and one eye blinked open…showing him a pair of dark brown pupils.

 “There you go,” he praised her, “Good, Sweetheart.”

For one moment she looked at him utterly petrified, not understanding at all what was going on. Just a second later, he felt her fear and terror pour all over the fledgling Mating Bond, that must have just snapped for her. 

One hand flayed out and one of his shadows caught it, her eyes jumping from him to the shadows and then back again. He watched as she seemingly tried to work through it, one of her shadows gently caressing her cheek, clearly calming her down.  

“You…You’re just like me,” she whispered, her voice rough from disuse, wings twitching with something. 

“I am,” he agreed softly. 

And then, he saw the shadow curl behind her ear, whispering something in her ear. And then: “Mate?” she whispered, staring at him, her eyes wide, the expression on her face wanting and desperate and a thousand other things. 

His mouth went dry. He managed a nod. 

And then to his surprise, she pounced. There was nothing graceful about it as she clung to him, nearly slapping her with one of her wings, as he pulled her against his chest. 

“I am your mate,” he agreed with a weak chuckle.

Hers.

[shanastoryteller]

happy valentine’s day! could i get something pjo or hades?

a continuation of 1

Sally doesn't understand. "But where's my son?"

His face crumples before smoothing back out.

"Not that you're not my son!" she says hurriedly. Gods, he's going to grow up to look so much like his father. He's going to grow up powerful, which is something Poseidon had warned her about and she thought she'd taken it seriously, but now her almost adult son is in front of her and there's a presence to him that she'd clocked as his father's just as much as his hair and the breadth of his shoulders. "But. My son. When you go back to the future, he'll come back, right?"

"Mom," he starts, then presses his lips together. "I don't know."

She slowly lowers herself onto Percy's bed. Onto her Percy's bed. "Where is he now?"

"If he's still here, he's probably in the underworld," he says.

If. If. Her eyes burn. She'd just been wishing that Percy wasn't seven anymore, but she hadn't meant this.

"I have to go," he says, clearly trying to speak gently to her. "I'll try and find out, okay? I'll send you an Iris message."

"But," she starts, looking up at him. What's she supposed to do? Her son's gone. Her son's right in front of her, but he's leaving too.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead like he's the parent. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really sorry."

~

Percy thinks he might have killed himself.

He tries not to think about it as he dive into the Atlantic, the water surging over and around him as it propel him exactly where he wants to go.

This is a mission that he's not going to survive. He'd known that from the beginning. Persephone had warned him that his life would be forfeit before he'd done it.

He should have listened. He should have taken a single second to think it through before he'd accepted, even if he would have done it anyway, even if it felt like the only option left.

When he'd sat across from Persephone, her clothes black with mourning and a crown she didn't want on her head, he'd already been dead. So it couldn't be his life that was the cost. It had already been paid.

Now his mom is going to have to mourn him twice over. Maybe even three times over, when he dies here too. He's such a terrible kid. She deserves better. Estelle wouldn't do this to her.

Why the hell had she had a kid with a god? They all die young.

He sneaks through the patrol of Atlantis with ease. He knows the schedules and the patterns and nothing is really meant to keep him out anyway.

The armory, the most guarded part of the kingdom, opens at his first touch.

He's a loyal son of Poseidon. Nothing here is forbidden to him.

Granted, that's because they don't know to ward against him specifically, because he's supposed to be ignorant and seven and demigod children don't typically just go strolling into their parents domain.

Riptide is currently with Charon and ironically he'd have a much harder time stealing from him than his father. He walks the length of the armory, eyeing the tridents but moving on. If he wants to keep his parentage a secret, then that's definitely not the way to go.

He goes through about a dozen swords before finding one that feels loose and easy in his hands. It's a bit flashier than Riptide, emeralds along the hilt and interlocking silver patter worked in alongside the bronze.

Paper doesn't do so well underwater, so he scrapes in an IOU into the place the sword had been. Someone's going to notice it missing pretty quickly either way. His dad if he's lucky, Triton if he isn't, but he doesn't have the time to worry about it.

There are three kids out there who are going to need some help getting to Camp Half-Blood in one piece.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

pleaseeee write some more rafe x weird!reader 🙏🏻🫶🏻

How about some Weird!girl headcanons?🤭🪞🥀

Weird!girl and Rafe met at the cemetery about a year after Ward died. Rafe was there visiting his grave, boasting to his deceased father about his success when he heard the prettiest little voice. He never expected to find the most beautiful, yet most strange girl he’s ever met sitting by her mother’s grave with a little orange cat.

Weird!girl absolutely adores animals of all kinds. Her family owns one of the most successful dairy companies in the country so she’s spent a lot of time around farm animals. She absolutely adores baby goats and bunnies the most though.

Weird!Girl’s mom died when she was young and her dad was never around so she was raised by her eccentric kook grandma. Everyone in the OBX always thought there was just something a little odd about her entire family.

Weird!Girl is a passenger princess through and through, she tried to get her permit when she was 15 but failed the test twice and honestly just gave up after that. Her grandma always had a driver for her growing up and once she gets with Rafe he happily takes on that position.

Weird!girl loves pretty things, but not in a classic diamond way. She loves random opal rings and pretty lace dresses found at vintage shops. And chunky chokers from flea markets. Rafe can’t stand this. He finds loopholes by buying her custom bat shaped jewelry and expensive platform shoes from her favorite brands.

Weird!girl has never really had a lot of friends. All the other kooks either looked down their noses at her or straight up belittled her. She was written off by Pogues just for being a kook, even if she didn’t feel like one. Rafe is her first real relationship, friendship or otherwise.

Weird!girl has a little white bunny named Lydia who she treats like her actual child.

Weird!girl wasn’t a virgin when she and Rafe met, she lost it to a band geek in high school and has had a few random hook ups as an adult. Rafe likes to pretend those didn’t happen.

Weird!girl smokes cigarettes and weed but she’s really girlie pop about it with her little vintage ashtrays and cute little custom bongs off Etsy. She also loves to hit the pen.

Weird!girl has tons of cute little tattoos. Baby deer, lambs, teddy bears with too many eyes and their stuffing coming out.

Weird!girl collects dolls, some porcelain but mostly Monster High and Bratz dolls. Rafe teases her about this at first but when she gets genuinely upset he realizes how much it means to her and now he’s buying her every single doll she’s ever wanted no matter the price.

Weird!girl absolutely loves horror. Rafe isn’t the biggest fan at first but once he sees how much she loves it and how happy rambling on about it makes her it makes him learn to appreciate it more.

Weird!girl is constantly making Rafe take pictures of her. She will dress up in little costumes or outfits and drag him out to the middle of the woods for an impromptu photoshoot. He’s a well trained Instagram boyfriend at this point.

Weird!girl has Rafe wrapped around her little finger and she doesn’t even really realize to what extent. She says jump and he says how high. He’s very in tune with her needs, before she can even ask him for something he’s already doing it.

Weird!girl is an absolute freak in bed. She’s submissive for the most part but sometimes she straddles Rafe and rides him so hard all he can do is hold onto her hips for dear life and take it. She loves marking him up. Scratches, bite marks, bruises she sucked into his skin. But she wants the same from him, she has a huge ownership kink.

All things Rafe & His weird!girl here

[cameronspecial]

fallin' all in you by shawn mendes and back to life by zayn

best friends to lovers, always there in the bad moments, always there in the best moments. those times of seeing the other with someone else til they finally confess to each other they are in love

Always There

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Sorry this isn't more related to the songs but the prompt really had me going.

Masterlist

It didn’t take long for Rafe to learn that she was going to be the most important person in his life. No, it really didn’t. It took the thirty seconds that it took for their fathers to leave the room for him to make that realization. The six-year-old stared at the short five-year-old girl in front of him, examining every part of her. He starts with the polished black Mary Janes that adorned her feet. They revealed the folded at the top perfectly white socks she is also wearing. The bottom of her wrinkle-free plaid pink dress kissed the bottom of her knees and not a single stain can be found on her white cardigan. Her nails were painted the same shade as her dress with no chip in sight. Small pearls circled her neck and her ears were studded with pearls as well. To complete the pristine look of the young girl, her hair was smoothed back into a high bun. Rafe was quick to assume he wasn’t going to have any fun playing with his father’s business partner’s daughter, but he was proven wrong by the first words she said to him. “Do you want to go play in the dirt?” Her question took him by surprise because her clothes certainly didn’t give the impression of a little girl who would want to play outside. Nevertheless, he nodded with a massive grin and dragged her to his backyard. 

When it was time to leave, the two newly made friends went running to their fathers; just not exactly in the same condition that they were left in. Both their clothes were now stained with mud and wrinkles were a plenty. The tight bun Y/N once wore at the crown was sagging at her nape and several knotted strands framed her face. Rafe’s gelled-back hair was mixed with mud, standing on its ends. To match their parallel appearance, her chipped nail polished hand gripped his slightly bigger ones. He had insisted that they held hands while they ran towards the back door. 

Ward’s eyes widened when he saw the state that the children were in and embarrassment flashed across his face. He was sure his son was the reason for the state they were in. He turned to the other adult prepared to apologize, “Nolan, I’m so sor-.” Mr. Y/L/N let out a good-hearted laugh with a shake of his head. “I told your mother that dress wasn’t going to last long. She knows you hate staying still or clean,” he noted, hunching over while taking off his glasses to wipe fake tears from his eyes. His daughter began to giggle with him and jumped into his arms, neither of them caring if his shirt got stained. Ward and Rafe looked at each other with uncertainty and continued to watch the other pair. Nolan stood straight with his daughter in his hold, “Did you have fun, Ladybug?” Y/N grinned at him. “YES, DADDY! Me and Rafe looked for worms and I chased him with one. I was faster. He is my best friend. Can we come back to play again?” The small boy’s heart flipped in his stomach at her words. He had hoped she had just as much fun as he did and he wanted nothing more than to be able to play again. He waited for her father to reply in anticipation. 

Nolan smiled warmly at his daughter, “Of course, Ladybug. Maybe he can come over to our house sometime. I’m sure he’d love to see the treehouse you and your brothers built.” He turned toward Ward for the next part. “That is, of course, if it is okay with Mr. Cameron.” “I think that’s a great idea,” Ward agreed. No one could see it, but Rafe did a little victory dance in his head. He had never been more glad to have been woken up early on a weekend because he was pretty sure he had met his future wife. 

———

That day he certainly met his best friend; where Y/N went, Rafe followed and vice versa. However, if the pair weren’t together, it was hard for either one of them to find the other. The bars of the ladder creaked as he climbed up them. As he got higher, he could hear the soft sniffles she was letting out. He got to the top and her hunched position confirmed she had been crying. His heart squeezed at her tears, causing him to hurry across the sun-shaped rug they had brought up there to her side. Once he was close enough, she instinctively turned into his hold. The twelve-year-old boy nuzzled her face into his neck. He ran his hand through the hair on the back of her head, waiting for her to calm down enough to speak. “He’s gone. Bernard is gone,” she wailed into his skin. He knew that. Her eldest brother had called when he couldn’t get her down from the treehouse. James explained to Rafe that Y/N’s pet snake, Bernard, had died and she had been up there all day, refusing to come down for anything. 

His cheek moves against her skull. He moved some of her hair behind her ear and kissed the skin beside her eye. “I know. I’m so sorry, Cookie. He meant a lot to you,” he mumbled with his lips against her skin. He could feel her nod under him, “He was supposed to have more time. They live for at least twenty years in captivity.” A cool breeze came over them. Even though it was the middle of the summer in the Outer Banks, the setting sun caused the temperature to drop. Her bare arms were littered with small bumps and his lips tightened. His hands began to rub up and down her arms in an attempt to bring her warmth. 

“Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes the people… or animals we love get sick and they have to go. That doesn’t mean that we stop loving them or they stop loving us, it just means we have to have faith that we will see them again,” he eloquently shared. “How about we go inside? We can get something to eat and talk about him.” 

She froze, raising her head to look at him. “I can’t. I can’t go back in there because it reminds me of him… Is this how you felt after your mom died? I mean, it must have been ten times worse because she was your mom.” His breath hitched at the mention of his deceased mother. He hated talking about his mother, yet whenever she asked, he answered. “Yeah. It was and sometimes still is hard to be at home. Right after I lost her, there were moments when I forgot she was gone,” he revealed. “I would be doing my homework in the dining room and occasionally expect her to come in to ask if I needed help. Or if I smell organes, then I wait for her to offer me some…” He trailed off, getting lost in the memory of his mother. She sensed the pain the recounting had brought him and contorted them so that he was the one with his ear to her chest. “We can share an orange now if you want. To honour her,” she suggested. He raised to check if she was sure. “We don’t have to. We would have to go inside to get one and I understand if that is too hard for you.” 

She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. Her legs wobbled as she tried to stand. He held his hand out to help her. Her hand fell into his. “It’s okay, I think I can do it with you by my side.”

———

Rafe had been falling for Y/N since they met, except he had only realized that three years after Bernard had died. It was quite possibly the worst time for him to be going through it because he was going through puberty. His face was pimply and his voice cracked at horrible times. Although he still got girls, his unstable state caused him to lack the courage to go after the person he desired the most. It didn’t help that she only saw him as her best friend. 

“Ahhhhh! I got in,” she squealed as she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him into a hug. He chuckled and moved his hands to the back of her thighs, giving them a little tap. She got the message and jumped to be in his hold. On-lookers would assume they were dating. He leaned back so he could see her eyes, “I’m so proud of you, Cookie. I knew you could do it. No one deserves it more than you.” They had been in that position for a few seconds and his biceps began to ache. He took it as a sign to start hitting the gym more. He wanted to get more toned anyway. His lack of strength was kept to himself because she loved it when he carried her. He had to agree that the position did give him butterflies, especially when the light would hit her face just right. His eyes found her irises and the air in his lungs deflated. Thankfully, the universe sent Gabriel to break the tension. “Eww, could you guys not do that in a common area,” he complained. Pete followed his brother into the room and nudged the older sibling with his elbow. “Leave them alone. They are in love.”

Y/N groaned at the interruption from her older brothers and dropped to the floor with an eye roll. “We are just friends. Plus, we are allowed to celebrate. I just got into a coding summer program I wanted to get into,” she announced. Rafe felt burnt by her first sentence. Her brothers went to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Both of them gave her congratulatory words. The siblings stepped back from each other after a moment of happiness. “We are bringing back takeout. Text us what you want,” Pete briefed before the two boys left. Silence covered the room and their eyes connected. 

His head gestured to the couch and they sat back down on it. The distance between them was quickly filled in by Y/N shuffling in. She rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh, both of them staring at the screen announcing the news. Reality set in for her. “We are going to have to be apart for a month,” she declared. To date, the longest they had been apart was three days. She had to go to Colorado at the last minute for her great-aunt’s funeral. Besides that, their families solely took group trips together because the pair refused to go without each other. Rafe felt her anxiety coming up and offered his hand to her. Her impulse drove her to grip his ring between her fingers. He let her rock the metal band back and forth on his digit. He shrugged, “We’ll be fine. We can text during the day and FaceTime whenever you want. It will be like we are together. I’ll even text you every time I need you to pick out what I eat. As if you are here with me.” She paused to think about what he said for a second. “Would you send me letters? Like people do in the movies.” He removed his hand from her lap and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Of course. With the number of different ways we will talk, I am always there for you,” he promised, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to tell her how he felt. 

———

He never sent the letter and four years later, he regrets his cowardness to this day because now, it is too late. His hand resists the urge to crush the neon-green solo cup. She insisted that he got the colourful cups for his party because she thought they were cute. Of course, he gives into her every whim in hopes it will make her finally see him. It doesn’t work though; if it did, then she would be at the party with him and not with her boyfriend of one year, Jay. Jay, the new addition to the Kook civilization, is polite and always put together. So the complete opposite of Rafe and Mrs. Y/L/N's dream partner for her daughter. Rafe loathes the fact that Jay gets the title of Y/N’s first boyfriend and maybe one day her first sexual partner. At least two things provide him comfort, he was her first kiss and obviously, she must not feel confident in her relationship with Jay or else she would have had sex with him already. 

She isn’t a prude (the friends often talked about their masturbation fantasies) or waiting for marriage. Her wish is to give her virginity to someone she is certain loves her, so Jay must not give her that feeling. Rafe has seen the couple say I love you to each other and this confirms his suspicion that something feels authentic to her. Nonetheless, she stays in a relationship with Jay. The best friend once questioned her continued status as the other man’s girlfriend and she said she felt a spark she wasn’t ready to let go of. Rafe thought she was lying. Jay is the first choice her mother approved of and Rafe suspects that is one of the reasons Y/N is holding on to him. 

He is snapped out of his thoughts by a splash on his hand. His gaze leaves the sight of Jay whispering into Y/N’s ear as she giggles and trails down to his hand. The cup that was holding his beer is now rumpled in his gasp. He doesn’t mind. After he changes his beer-soaked shirt, he can get something stronger. He swims through the sea of people to get upstairs, chancing a glance at her before he disappears.

It takes him a while to find a shirt to wear. Every time he picks one up, he hears his best friend’s voice in his head. That one is too busy. That colour looks like puke. That one washes out your eyes. He searches for the slightly baggy silk-black button-up that she loves. She prefers a looser-fit shirt because she thinks a shirt that is too tight makes men look like sausages. No matter how many abs they have. He groans, remembering that the shirt is hand-wash only and the maid left it in the laundry room to dry. The shirts in his hands are thrown onto the floor and plans to go shirtless until he retrieves his shirt. As he is about to open his door, the familiar rasp of Jay’s voice can be heard through the door. “I can feel it, Dude. I am so close to sealing the deal with this bitch,” Jay hypes into the phone. “Of course, it is going to be worth it. She’s a virgin. You and I both know that they are always the freakiest because they want to try everything.” Being guilty of saying crude things, Rafe pieces together the meaning of the phone call. 

Anger slides under his skin, creating a large splinter. He doesn’t go after the asshole because his concern is Y/N. She deserves to know the truth before she makes her decision. 

He waits for Jay’s footsteps to fade and slides out of the door, taking a different route to get to her. It is perpetually easy to find her in the crowd. Her joyful aura draws him in wherever they are. Her hips sway to the beat of the music and her hands are in the air, one holding a pink solo cup. Her hair flows with the carefree movement of her head. Rafe hates that he has to be the one to wipe the smile off her face. The crowd doesn’t object to him pushing his way to her. They can see he is on a mission and everyone is familiar with his famous temper. His warm hand on her lower back causes her to turn in his direction. “Hey, Rafey. Where have you been?” she greets with a bright smile. A clench shoots through his heart, “We need to talk.” Her lips turn into a line at his serious expression. They understand each other’s small facial tics which makes reading each other’s emotions easy. Her head bobs and he guides her to his room. 

He closes the door and turns to find her sitting on his bed with a bounce. “What’s wrong?” she inquires. The corner of his lip puckers between his teeth. “You might not believe me, so I want you to know that I am telling you this because I love you.” She stands to shuffle by his side. “What do you want to tell me?” she presses on. He comes to shit beside her and rests his hand on hers, preparing himself for when she needs to play with his ring. “I overheard Jay on the phone and, I’m going to spare you the details, the sole reason he is dating you is because he wants to sleep with you. He sees you as a game and you don’t deserve a person who doesn’t appreciate you.” 

She isn’t shocked by the news. The lack of surprise doesn’t mean she isn’t upset. Sure, she isn’t head over heels for Jay, but they still spent a year building a relationship and trust. The fact that he is lying and simply sees her as an object is understanding. In spite of that, Y/N finds herself not as upset as she should probably be. She racks her brain for why the news isn’t more detrimental to her and the answer comes up in the form of two cerulean eyes. The man who played in the mud with her even though she was a girl. The man who would hold her in his arms whenever period cramps were hitting her hard. The man who always knew her order, no matter her restaurant. She never fell in love with Jay because she was already all in with Rafe. He is always there for her and she is now realizing she only wants him there. The small well of tear that is about to crop up gets waved away by her newfound feelings.

“That’s okay,” she whispers, shuffling closer to him. He stares into her eyes with arched eyebrows, “Really?” “Yeah. Because so far, I’ve been falling for men who weren’t how they appear. But I think I found a man who is exactly how he appears.” His confusion doesn’t wave from his face, so she makes her point clear by leaning in. He clocks her movement and his eyes flutter shut as he follows her lead. As their lips meet, love is breathed into each other's lungs and it becomes all-consuming. His rough lips soften with the help of her lip balm. They break apart in a small pant and their forehead smooch together. She grins at him, “If it isn’t clear, I have fallin’ all in you.” “Did you just quote Shawn Mendes?” he chuckles. She feints irritation, “I guess I won’t say what I was about to say then.” He shakes his head and rests his hand on the back of her neck to keep her there. “No. No. No. Keep going.” Her smile returns. “I love you.” The future he has imagined for them starts playing at full speed and he can’t believe he gets to catch up to it. “I love you too.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworl

[immediatebreakfast]

I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count, directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and pretended that he could not understand my German.

The reaction, and following actions of the old romanian couple after learning that the Count placed the responsability of securing Jonathan's travel to the castle on them is a true testament on the horror limbo that these people have been living for god knows how long.

An inmortal, and monstruos man lives inside the countryside in luxury untouched by time itself orders you to secure transportation for this young man, barely an adult in what matters who has traveled so far, to meet what you know will be his death. A being that should be a myth is forcing your hand to guide the son of another mother to an early grave, an end that is waiting for him outside of the walls of your inn.

He and his wife, the old lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort of way... When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. 

How many times has this happened? How many young people have dissapeared one day without leaving a single trace while everyone has to force ignorance within their brains less the terror makes them unable to keep going. Worse, even if the young english man, all bright eyed and full of life, says That Name out loud you can't chastice him for such mistake because he simply doesn't know what he is calling, and the only thing that you can do is close your eyes to pray for his soul.

However, sometimes the horror is so overwhelming that another answer comes out, a last ray of hope that could change the course of what seems to be written in stone. A simple hand extending in frightened kindness for a fellow human being.

"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go?"

This old woman, this old lady who has and still lives under the terror of the Count decides to try. She tries, and tries to convince Jonathan to not go, to not leave to walk to the jaws of the beast, or to at least wait for a day or two because everything is pointing to what seems to be the inevitable. Moreover, when her pleads are futile at the end, she still dares to gift Jonathan a rosary, a small protection against that cursed being who laughs at the face of everything that makes her human.

She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck, and said, "For your mother's sake," and went out of the room.

This old lady not only sees Jonathan the young man who is just starting his life, she sees a mother waiting for any news of her son coming home. She sees a poor woman trying to find anything that could tell her an answer of whenever her son is alive or dead, while being unable to both live and grieve.

The old lady doesn't know if Jonathan will survive his duty. In fact I could pressume how her guilt of knowing that the rosary on itself is still not enough to ward off the Count made her leave the room, but she still tried to hold on the hope that this time, maybe this time, there won't be another young soul buried in the soil.

[j-the-latter-gay-saint]

General Handbook update, and it's not a good one:

Church Participation of Individuals Who Identify as Transgender

GUIDING PRINCIPLES FOR LOCAL LEADERS

This document supplements the policy in General Handbook, 38.6.23, "Individuals Who Identify as Transgender." Its purpose is to help local leaders counsel with individuals and their families about certain aspects of Church participation.

General Guidelines

In all cases, local leaders:

• Seek spiritual guidance.

• Treat individuals and their families with love and respect while teaching gospel truth.

• Consider the needs of the individual and other ward members.

• Ensure that the Church's doctrine on gender is not undermined or misunderstood.

• Seek counsel. Bishops counsel with the stake president. Stake and mission presidents seek guidance from the Area Presidency.

• Involve the parents or guardians of minors.

Preferred Names and Pronouns

Official Church records reflect a member's biological sex at birth.

The use of preferred names and pronouns should be a matter left between individuals and their family, friends, and Church members. Local leaders should not determine or prescribe how members address an individual.

If a member has a preferred name, it may be noted in the "Preferred Name" field on the membership record.

Gender-Specific Meetings and Activities

Individuals attend gender-specific meetings and activities that align with their biological sex at birth.

Any exception, which should be rare, must adhere to the "General Guidelines" listed above and be approved by the Area Presidency.

Overnight Activities

For overnight activities that are for a specific gender, individuals attend only the camps that align with their biological sex at birth. Examples of such activities include Young Women camps and Aaronic Priesthood quorum camps.

For overnight activities that are not for a specific gender, individuals who pursue surgical, medical, or social transition away from their biological sex at birth leave the activity at night. Youth are released to the care of a parent or legal guardian, who is responsible for arranging accommodations. Examples of activities that are not for a specific gender include young single adult conferences, For the Strength of Youth conferences, and youth conferences.

Callings and Assignments

Individuals who pursue surgical, medical, or social transition away from their biological sex at birth are not called or assigned to (1) fulfill gender-specific roles, (2) serve as teachers, or (3) work with children or youth. They may receive other callings or assignments that provide opportunities to progress and serve others.

Restrooms in Church Facilities

Restrooms should provide a private and safe environment. Care must be taken to respect the privacy and dignity of all individuals.

Individuals who pursue surgical, medical, or social transition away from their biological sex at birth should use a single-occupancy restroom when available.

If a single-occupancy restroom is not available, a local leader counsels with the individual (and the parents or guardians of a youth) to find a solution. Options include:

• Using a restroom that aligns with the individual's biological sex at birth.

• Using a restroom that corresponds to the individual's feeling of their inner sense of gender, with a trusted person ensuring that others are not using the restroom at the same time.

Source (guiding principles sheet linked in paragraph 7)

[providencehq]

I really adore the idea of Danny seeming really confident and overall having a grasp on getting along in his fake identity for a new start in Gotham. Only for it to be quickly realized he's putting on a really good act and some simple investigation unravels it all (or, most of it.) Like facts are not matching up enough for his fake identity and when members of the bat family look into why this is for him they're quickly realizing that it's maybe a shotty identity because it was hastily put together but a teenager.

Faking his age enough to be a legal adult (18) so he can control over himself? Check. Faking only part of his name because he's still attached to his old life and won't admit it? Check. Leaving no paper trails and only paying in cash? Check. Refusal to participate in things that may lead to his identity or lack of one be discovered? Check. Kid also being 15/16 at most and being shit at hiding it physically, he cannot pass off as anything else than a young teenager but all documents say otherwise? Check.

Tim and Barbra quickly notice how he covered solely for himself. At least Tim was able to fake an uncle (temporarily), Danny isn't able to fake any information aside from the basics in regards to any family. It's quick to tell he's good at faking information but he's nowhere near the skill of Tim and Barbra. Once they find a single sliver of actual information on Danny and figure out who he really is, it opens a lot of questions while closing others. It also makes getting an eye and overall some semblance of control over the mysterious Danny situation they have on hand.

Like, Tim and Bruce at the very least are going to trick Danny to come into Wayne Enterprises to discuss his scholarship and hit him with "hey, we can't exactly give a scholarship to a person who doesn't exist, we know you are hiding from something by looks of our research. People don't fake new lives for the hell of it. We will however help you with whatever is going on, give you the scholarship, if you tell us what is going on." Danny of course is like, ah, no, I'm going to bail. But of course is cut off by Bruce suggesting that if he leaves without accepting their help, they'll be forced to report him and he'll be a ward of the state at best. That some investigation will happen because them finding out that Danny Fenton is considered dead before he was abled to be transferred to the care of a Vlad Masters, that is parents and friends are dead, and is overall an orphan is a big deal. ESPECIALLY when Danny Fenton is pretending to be Danny Duxo, a legal adult, and out on his own in Crime Alley and barely scraping by to be able to get to college.

They force his hand of course and accepts their help (and basically becomes a ward of Bruce Wayne). Danny convinces them that he will have Bruce acting as a guardian for him but he gets to remain at his apartment, he doesn't want to lose his tech he's working on but he's also afraid of anyone learning about his ghostliness. Does this work out? No, not for long. After a few weeks of being on his own and going out at night as a vigilante, injuries catch up with him. Jason comes by a few times a week to drop food off and comes into Danny one day bandaging some pretty nasty wounds. He brushes it off as some malfunction with some tech he's messing with but that incident causes him to be relocated to the Wayne manor so if an injury does happen, he's not alone.

And to think, none of this would be happening if he was better at faking an identity. He should have honestly asked for Technus' help for that and maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. This is all just surrounding his human identity too! Oh my god, the bats are going to freak when they find out Danny is way more than human and also a vigilante!

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

👀 a plus-sized love interest in a game? please tell me more

yuuuup you heard me right

in our life 2, one of the romanceable leads is plus-sized and the other lead starts off using he/him pronouns but comes out as genderfluid part way though the story

our life as a game essentially functions as a visual novel that takes place during your early childhood (step 1), preteen/early teen days (step 2), young adult (step 3) and then finally with step 4 adulthood where you and your extremely customizable mc (that you can name, customize the hair color/texture of, change your pronouns throughout the story if you desire, if they're ace or not, the kinds of people they're interested in, etc. etc) as you grow up with your friends, family and of course the leads whom you can either have a purely platonic, romantic or familial relationship with

basically, everyone gets a piece of the pie as the game is incredibly inclusive and the base games are free, you only pay for the dlcs (which are about 3.99/4.99 each) if you want additional content

in our life 1 the primary love interest is cove holden, your shy but 'opens up like a flower when you get to know him childhood friend' whose dad offers you $20 bucks to befriend his son over the summer, will you take the money? or nah? whether or not you do, you do have the choice to tell him or keep it a secret. either way, cove is a lonely kid in love with mermaids and the ocean whose parents are going through a divorce and maybe a special kid born and raised in sunset bird can help him out. (canonically on the autism spectrum as well)

but with some fairly priced dlcs, you can also unlock two more love interests

derek suarez: oldest of 3 brothers and while playful, he means very well. sometimes that well-meaning nature can get him into trouble though. he has a crush on the mc and if given the chance, asks if you're both single as adults if you can get married. you mainly get acquainted with him in step 2 as step 3 he's a bit too busy to be around, but depending on your choices you can stay in touch despite all that or perhaps you'll lose touch over time only to rekindle old feelings in step 4.

and baxter ward: an eccentric but extremely charming tourist that comes to sunset bird in step 3 with a penchant for dressing in black and white all the time. if you choose to get close to him, he asks if it's possible if he can be your suitor for the season (it's possible, through a moment in step 2 to meet baxter earlier than his intended proper introduction though). either way, you do have a chance to take things to a more permanent relationship in step 4 when you reunite once again when you've become a bridemaid for a wedding and oh shit baxter is the wedding planner

ol1 takes place in a fictional town called sunset bird which is essentially a touristy seaside retirement community. you're raised by your two moms along with your sister liz, the both of you being adopted.

also, this game is told through various summers in your life.

our life 2, on the other hand, takes place in a completely different fictional town called golden grove located in oregon (baxter's hometown) and there are 2 base leads you can romance (idk if there will be anymore though):

qiu "autumn" lin: to start, qiu is very charming and that leads to him being very popular in step 1. he's the guy everyone adores to the point each semester there's a 'who gets to sit next to qiu' chart so it's all fair. by step 2 though, they're going through their emo phase and if you aren't close to them by that time (or choose that you stopped being friends between steps 1 and 2), then as far as they're concerned you're just another face in the crowd. by step 3 though, they're back to the charming rizzler they were back in step 1

(step 4 designs/info not out yet for for ol2)

and tamarack baumann: who starts as a bit of a wild child in step 1. she prefers to the forest to the city and can spend all day there. she's blunt and can be loud, but she has your back from day 1. by step 2 though, all that self-assured confidence where she knew herself is gone and tamarack is considerably shyer and more awkward. she can find solace in your friendship though should your promise to be friends forever in step 1 still hold out. by step 3, she's evolved into a quietly confident grandma friend

also contrast to the first game, ol2's story is told throughout various autumns of your life.

you and your mom are a solo duo who have recently moved into golden grove about a week after tamarack (a fellow new kid! it makes it easier for you to connect with her), your mom being a single mom by choice through ivf (but it's strongly hinted that a waiter at the local diner (born intersex, assigned female then transitioned into male) is into her and i am MANIFESTING MY ASS OFF they get together at some point). ol2 also will have a poly feature that comes in the game for those who wish to be committed to both of the leads!

the leads themselves are all pansexual, leading to them being able to date your character regardless of gender and sexual identities and are just extremely wholesome and lovely overall. i always play them whenever i need a mood boost. between the two though, ol2 is not yet done BUT there is a demo of step 1 out right now on itch.io and steam

it's a fun game where all your choices matter and are referred throughout the game as a 'hey remember when yn and cove tried running away from home? that was such a nightmare' or 'hey i met you! a few years back at the summer soiree! wow, if anything had gone slightly different, we might not have even met then' or even 'yo remember when we spent that summer doing beach cleanup??? we should do that again'

even the side characters you grow up with or become acquainted with throughout the steps have journeys from either transitioning and identifying with different pronouns than they were initially introduced with or pursuing specific degrees at school, moving away and either you stayed in contact or hell maybe it's one of those situations where a friend of yours moved away and you never heard from them again etc etc. the ol universe also extends partly into the universe of the xoxo droplets game (made by the same team and also free, unless you wanna pay for the paid version with 3 more romanceable leads and a mc with a hilariously unique personality) with some characters from that game making cameos as childhood encounters in ol. it's all really fun! i really recommend giving the game a try, you'll fall in love with sunset bird and golden grove i guarantee it

you can have a peaceful run with the normal amount of growing pains, or you can go full novela and have lots of drama and flair but rest happily knowing that in ol everything ends up working out. your mc can be shy or bold and out going in one step and then be completely the opposite in the next. maybe you have a very biting attitude or maybe you're extremely gullible. you can change it up with each run, it's extremely replayable

can't stress enough how much i love this game and the characters in it

[arabian-batboy]

I have seen some disclosures in the past about how fandoms force a non-existence "found family" dynamic between the characters then forcibly turn that found family into a "nuclear family" where they will make one character be the "dad" while one character is the "mom" and everyone else are siblings when that's not the case and while I definitely know what people mean by that and have seen it happen before, I feel like in the context of the "Batfamily," some people are taking it too far into the opposite direction.

Like first of all, depending on how you divide them, the "Batfamily" is made up by characters who are either literal family or just close friends/lovers, so I can understand why grouping all of them together and labeling them as one big family may sound confusing (but always remember, Wayne family =/= Batfamily)

Characters like Barbara, Stephanie and Duke (I might even throw in Tim & Cassandra, since they both were only adopted at 17) absolutely have an "unconventional" familial ties to each other and to Bruce, so I personally don't think you should be so eager to fit them all into a stereotypical nuclear familial roles, especially since all the characters I mentioned above (except for Cass) have one or two loving parents who have raised them all on their own without the help of Bruce and are still alive and present in their child's life (except Tim, whose parents canonly died a couple of years ago in-universe).

With that being said, sometimes characters just so happen to fit the bill of a stereotypical "nuclear family" in canon and not wanting to accept that because the children are adopted/not related by blood to their parents is fucked up.

And I say that mostly about Dick and Jason, who for for all intent and purposes were both fully adopted at 9 and 11 respectively (ignoring rectons that aged them up or the fact that Dick was a ward at first only because single men couldn't legally adopt in the 40's), so it doesn't matter how you go about it, Bruce is 100% their father and they are 100% his sons, no ifs or buts.

For me, I have seen too many people trying to down-play the fact that Batman is canonly a dad (maybe because they don't think its cool? Idk) by pretending that him and his literal children are just a found family or just partners and accusing anyone who refer to them as parent-and-child of diminishing this found family and forcing them into a "nuclear" family when that's not case with them.

Referring to an adult man who fully adopted a young child to raise them as his own as that child's dad isn't forcing them into a nuclear family, because he's LITERALLY their dad? That's just common sense.