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#i'll always reblog this
delagar · 3 months
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world-of-lang · 2 months
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starry-bi-sky · 1 month
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i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.
He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.
And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.
And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.
Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.
Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."
There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.
It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.
Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.
At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.
"Do you like to do anything?"
Nothing. Just silence.
Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.
Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.
Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.
And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.
He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.
Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.
So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.
"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"
"Don't."
He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.
Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"
"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."
It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"
The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."
Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."
And they fall back into silence.
Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."
He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.
(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)
At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.
Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.
("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")
(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)
(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)
It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."
The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."
The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.
When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.
Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.
"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."
When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.
Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc prompt#man i just really need more dpdc stuff where danny and bruce have a good relationship. like man i NEED it. like i need to see these two#bonding together. and not in a cracky 'oh danny is a distant friend/cousin/etc' stuff but like. active participants in each other's lives#or as active as can be in this case. i neeeeed these two getting along and caring about one another#this idea came to me like last night and hasn't left since nd it was driving me up the wall to think about both positively and negatively b#i neeeded someone to hear about this or i was gonna implode#danny is the first son#tried to just get the general gist of the idea down but i definitely thought of the idea that bruce lowkey suspects vlad for having a hand#Vlad allows Danny to sneak off because he thinks Danny is alone. if he knew Bruce was there he'd be piiisssed and would put a stop to it#Sam and Tucker are alive they just got ghosted for a bit by danny bc he was in Major Grief and didn't wanna socialize. He couldn't go to#them because he didn't wanna put them in danger via Vlad.#oh that thing he handed Bruce? Yeah that's his ghost core. I have a headcanon (that isnt always applied) that ghosts can take their cores#out of their bodies at will and painlessly and without issue. and its common practice actually to do so bc they can be a not insignificant#distance away from said core before problems start to act up. and its common for ghosts to leave their physical cores at their lairs for#safekeeping because as long as the physical core is fine: so is the ghost. they can reform if their body gets destroyed. it also acts as a#fast travel sometimes. where they can reform at their core in an instant. its not inspired in the slightest by SU but i do see the overlap#most cores are pretty small for safety sake: its harder to hit if its small. and they're pr resilient too but its better to be safe than#sorry. so yeah. danny essentially gave bruce the physical embodiment of his soul and indirectly said#'if anything happens to me at least i'll be safe with you'#danny doesn't know he's batman btw#starry rambles.#was gonna go into danny becoming a vigilante beside bruce but im sleeeepy so i'll do that in a reblog. he's gonna go by nightingale if#anyone is interested. stereotypical but to be frank it is a *good* name imo. has a good amount of syllables and consonants to it#and the bird theme. and since its part of an ancestral name it has even more backing for it being bird-y without being meta
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royalarchivist · 1 month
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[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]
Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?
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[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*
Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.
Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!
Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.
* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.
#Pactw#QSMP#Pac#March 18 2024#As much as I love keeping people updated about Pac / the other Portuguese-speaking creators#I think I might not make as many transcribed posts for their clips anymore#I just don't think I'm qualified enough to be transcribing things for a language I don't know#like yeah we have the Qlobal Translator and Aypierre's translators to rely on#And I'm always upfront when I'm not 100% sure about a translation#but I've been thinking about it a lot and it kinda makes me feel a bit icky. Idk.#I might be overthinking this but I just I don't want to spread around translations I'm not super confident about#esp. since I know a lot of people cite my clips in analysis posts or link them to other people as resources#and 90% of the time I'm like ''Hell yeah I love seeing people getting a lot of use out of the archive''#but sometimes I get a bit anxious like ''Did I do a good enough job translating this''#''Am I ruining someone's entire perception of a conversation or character because I left one word out or mistranslated something?''#And like I said that's normally not a HUGE concern since if I'm not certain about a translation I just won't post a clip. but you know#idk it might just be the anxiety talking but I really really don't want to spread bad info#Happy to hear other folks' perspective#I'm really grateful for people like Bell and Pix and others who translate clips and I always try to reblog those#but we don't have a ton of people posting clips & translating things on Tumblr since we're so English-centric#which is part of the reason WHY I like sharing clips of the non-English-speaking CCs#but at the same time I want to do an accurate job representing what they're saying#Maybe I'll just start posting things and give a TLDR context of what they're talking about but not a transcript#that way native-speakers can hop in and add translations if that's something they're comfortable doing#and if not then well. at least I'm not sharing something that isn't super accurate#idk I'm just thinking out loud a bit in the tags#But I'm open to hearing other people's thoughts on the matter#Anyways giant rant aside. q!Pac is NOT doing ok rn
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acealistair · 8 months
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RPG Character Development Questions!
Trying my hand at making one of these, specifically aimed towards D&D characters but it should also work for other TTRPGs and video games like Dragon Age.
Send me any number of emojis for any of my characters! Anyone is welcome to reblog! 😊
~*~*~CHARACTER DESIGN~*~*~
👀: Describe their physical appearance in as much detail as possible. Facial features, colors, height, build, etc. 👄: How do they talk? What's their vocabulary like? What does their voice sound like? Any accent, verbal tics, etc? 👃: Do they smell like anything in particular? Why do they smell like that? 🏷️: What is their full name? Do any of their names have any special meaning? How did you come up with them? 🌳: What physical traits did they inherit from their biological parents? Do they look more like one parent than the other? ♦️: Are there any motifs you associate with them? What do those motifs represent thematically? 🎨: What is their color scheme? Or at least colors you associate them with? 🔮: If they were to feature in the art of a tarot card, which one would it be and why? 💭: What was the original concept for your OC? Has it changed at all since then? 📺: Is your OC inspired at all by characters from other media? Which one(s) and what traits do they have in common? 🛡️: How does their class inform their characterization? How does their personality match or clash with the stereotype for that class? 📖: Describe your ideal character arc for them. How do you envision them changing by the end of the story?
~*~*~SKILLS/HOBBIES~*~*~
📊: What is their best stat? What is their worst/dump stat? How do these affect how you roleplay as them? 🗡️: What type of weapon do they normally use? Is there a particular reason for it? ✨: Are they a magic user? If so, how did they come to learn it (born with it, studied, acquired, etc.)? What does their magic look like when cast? If not, what is their attitude towards magic? 🖌️: What is their go-to hobby? When did they start learning it? Why do they like it? 🔨: Do they have any practical skills they wouldn't consider a hobby? What sorts of skills and how/why did they learn them? 🍳: Are they good at cooking? Do they like to? Why and how did they learn to cook, or, if they didn't, why didn't they? 🎵: Are they any good at singing? What situations do/would they sing in? Would they sing in the shower? 🎻: Do they know how to play an instrument? If so which one(s)? Do they enjoy music in general? 💃: How do they feel about dancing and are they any good at it? Do they prefer solo, partnered, or group dancing? 🚗: In a modern AU, what kind of job would they have, if any? 🎁: If they needed to give a friend a gift, how would they go about choosing one? Would they buy it, make it, or do something else? Would others consider them good at gift-giving? 📚: Do they like to read books? If so, what sorts of books do they prefer to read? If not, why don't they like reading? ✍: What does your character's handwriting look like? Do they write letters often? What other contexts do they usually write in, if any?
~*~*~PERSONALITY~*~*~
🙂: What are three of their personality traits that others would generally consider positive? 🙁: What are three of their personality traits that others would generally consider negative? 😱: Do they have any irrational fears/phobias? How do they cope with them? Has a phobia ever impacted the game you play them in? 😭: How easily do they cry? Do they ever cry in front of other people? When was the last time they cried? 💢: How quick are they to anger? What is a surefire way to piss them off? What do they act like when angry? 😄: How can you tell when they're really happy? What sorts of things make them happy? How often do they smile? 😳: How easily are they embarrassed/flustered? What sorts of things catch them off-guard and make them lose their cool? 🏁: What do they consider to be their main goal in life, the thing that motivates most of their actions? 🤲: Do they have any deep desires that they don't talk about and/or don't even realize they have? Do these desires conflict with their main goal at all? 🗣️: How social are they? Do they speak to strangers because they like to or only when necessary? How differently do they act with strangers vs. friends? 🐾: How do they feel about animals? Do they have/want any pets? Do they have a favorite animal?
~*~*~BACKSTORY~*~*~
😬: Did they ever make a major decision in their past that they regret? How are they handling it now? 🙏: What are their feelings on religion? If they are religious, what do they practice? How much of an impact does it have on their daily life? 🎓: What was their education like? Do they have any favorite subjects? What is their preferred learning style? 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦: What is their family like? Are there any family members that are particularly influential and/or important to them (whether in a positive or negative sense)? 🛝: Do they have any childhood friends? If so, are they still in touch with them? What is their relationship like now (or why did it end)? 🧸: What was their favorite childhood toy and why? 🚸: Would they consider their childhood to have been a happy one? Why or why not? Does their perception of that differ from yours as their player? 🌹: Are they experienced romantically? How many romantic partners have they had? How has this affected their view of romance? 😡: Do they have any enemies and/or rivals from their past? How serious of a threat are they to your OC?
~*~*~RELATIONSHIPS~*~*~
💘: Do they have a "canon" romantic partner? If so, who is it and what is their relationship like? If not, what kind of person would be the optimal romantic partner for them (the most interesting narratively, not necessarily the healthiest/what they think their preferences are)? 😍: What traits, physical and/or mental, do they find attractive in other people? 💒: How does your character feel about marriage? Have their feelings on marriage ever changed? 🎉: Who are their party members/companions? Describe each of their relationships with your OC (however brief or detailed you want). 💍: Among their current companions, are there any that are narrative foils to your OC? How so? 🍼: How do they feel about children in general? Do kids get along with them? Do they have/want kids of their own (now or down the line)? 🤝: How do they express platonic affection? When does an acquaintance become a friend for them? 🥰: Who do they currently consider to be their best friend and why? Has their best friend changed over time? 🫂: How are they with casual physical touch? Do they have different boundaries based on how well they know a person? Is there a specific reason behind their comfort level?
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flowercrowngods · 11 months
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part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)
day 07: free space a happy ending
Wakefulness embraces him so slowly and gently that Steve’s not entirely sure he isn’t dreaming when he sees Eddie lying next to him, watching him with an easy smile as his fingers tap out a slow beat on his pillow. Steve looks at him, blinking away the remnants of sleep, not quite daring to do anything more than that for fear of it being a dream after all, scared that Eddie would disappear if Steve reached out to touch. 
But then Eddie’s smile widens. “Good morning, sunshine.” 
Steve gasps a little and moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, his breath hitching when Eddie leans into the touch. 
“You’re here,” he whispers, his gaze wandering over Eddie’s features, taking it all in and looking for any indication that this is a dream. 
Eddie hums. “And you’re pretty.” 
It hits him out of nowhere, the open sincerity in Eddie’s voice, the fondness in his eyes, the honesty in everything about him. The love, open and free now — or getting there, at least. It’s still so raw, though, so new, that Steve doesn’t know how to handle it yet. 
“Shut up,” he huffs once he’s caught his breath, rolling over to hide his face and the way his cheeks are heating up. He rolls right into Eddie's chest, though, and he's so warm, so close, smells so good that Steve wants nothing more than to bury his face in his neck and stay there for the rest of the morning. Or maybe the rest of his life.
The reflex to pull away is there. The urge to run and hide, to laugh it off, to freeze up and find something else to do, something to occupy his hands and stop them from reaching for Eddie. Years and years of muscle memory telling Steve to leave. 
But Eddie's arms come around him, holding him close and pulling him even closer. And Steve breathes him in, remembering that it can be okay. Remembering that they get a chance now. 
Remembering the words. 
What are you doing? 
Changing the world. 
So he tries that, too. Changing the world. He tries by winding his arms around Eddie, too, and breathing in again and again, learning that Eddie won't disappear if he does. 
Slowly, he dares to move his arms, stroking along Eddie's back in slow, gentle patterns, lulling himself into a safety he hasn't felt in a while. Maybe ever. At some point Eddie begins to hum, and Steve thinks that it's just another one of his audible smiles, inviting Steve and the rest of the world to join in if they're so inclined. But then he detects a familiar melody in the vibrations of Eddie's neck against his skin, and he holds his breath to find out what it is. 
His heart jumps when he recognises the song as one he used to listen to on repeat like a lovesick fool around the time his feelings for Eddie turned into something more, something better, something infinitely worse. 
It skips and he forgets how to breathe as he lets his hands travel over Eddie's back, slowly and tentatively daring to slip underneath his shirt and touch his skin. 
Eddie begins to sing, then, and Steve wonders if he's even been in love with him before, because nothing of what he's ever felt compares to Eddie's gentle, hoarse, sleep-rough voice as he sings Somebody to Steve, to their little bubble, or to the world outside. 
"I want somebody to share, share the rest of my lifeShare my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details."
He closes his eyes as he listens, focusing on the vibrations, on the warmth, on the closeness, on how this moment is everything he's never even dared to want. Everything so perfect that he couldn't even dream it up. 
Everything. You're everything. 
He needs to be closer still, so be buries his nose in Eddie's neck and breathes him in, tangling their legs, filled with a breathless kind of joyful bliss when Eddie's breath hitches, too, and he stumbles over the words of the second verse as Steve tries to climb into his skin. 
"I want somebody who cares for me passionatelyWith every thought and with every breath."
You have me, Steve thinks, pressing his lips to Eddie's pulse point. It's not a kiss, not quite. It's something deeper. It's a promise. 
Eddie's hands come up to hold him there even as his voice carries through the drumbeat of Steve's heart in his throat, running fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him purr along to the melody. 
"But when I'm asleep I want somebodyWho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderlyThough things like this make me sickIn a case like this, I'll get away with it."
When the song ends, Eddie's words faded out, replaced once again by the gentlest silence, Steve feels raw. Vulnerable. Open and exposed. But he also feels safe, and loved, buried in Eddie's skin and held there, as though Eddie is just as scared of fading away as Steve is. 
He lifts his head just slightly, enough to meet Eddie's eyes – only to find that they're closed, an expression so serene like Steve has never seen before. Mesmerised and overflowing with affection, he reaches out to trace the line of his brows, down to his cheeks and all the way to his lips, where his eyes are glued for a second. 
The thought of kissing Eddie is right there. The opportunity is, too. But he doesn't. He barely dares to move as it is. But he does roll them over the rest of the way until he lies comfortably on top of Eddie, and tucks his head underneath his chin, finding one of his hands and lacing their fingers. 
"You've got him," he breathes eventually. "That somebody. If you—“ 
"Yes," Eddie says, his other hand finding its way to the nape of Steve's neck to play with his hair again. "I want."
"Good." It's lame; far from what he wants to say. From what he has already said last night. It feels like they're doing this backwards, starting with the I love you and catching up with the slow build-up afterwards. "Good. Me, too." 
"Good," Eddie hums, and there's that smile again that Steve can't help but mirror. 
They fall asleep again like that even though it’s already late in the morning; cuddling and holding and cradling each other, still trembling slightly. Maybe that's what changing the world will do to you. Maybe that's the bravery more than the love. 
Or maybe it's just Steve and Eddie. Steve and Eddie. SteveandEddie. 
I love you. 
~*~
It takes a bit for Steve to relearn loving Eddie. To not associate it with tragedy and sadness and a bone-deep loneliness that'll leave him breathless even on the best of days. 
It takes a while for Steve to learn a whole new kind of breathlessness, a whole new kind of aching when it comes to Eddie. 
And Eddie's not much better than Steve, pulling away when Steve wants him closer, swallowing his words and needing a second, third, fourth try until he learns that he gets to love Steve now. 
Years of unrequited love, or feelings unreturned, of words put out into the universe with no one to receive them, are not easily or quickly unwritten. But every time Steve's breath gets lodged in his throat and he wants to run away, Eddie is right there to remind him of what they can have now. Every time Steve tries to be a little less of who he really is, Eddie is right there to coax him out of his head with gentle touch and a lot of hugs. 
Every time Eddie starts to doubt himself and all the ways he makes Steve the happiest person on the planet, Steve is right there with the words he only has for Eddie. Words that don't get stuck anymore. Words that finally get a recipient. 
~*~
Their first kiss, the first real kiss, doesn't happen that first morning. They spend the first week only holding each other, barely wanting to let go, hiding their vulnerabilities within each other. 
Steve is worried about it at first, seeing Eddie so quiet, so reverent, lacking his usual cheer, his energy and snarky comments. He asks about it one night, ready to prove right that he isn't and can never be enough for him, that all he will do is steal the things that make him Eddie. 
Eddie stops then, lifting Steve's chin with a finger when he's too scared, too ashamed, too vulnerable to meet his eyes on his own accord. 
"Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so gentle that Steve immediately feels stupid for doubting. "I have loved you for ten years. I've had you for three days. Let me bask in it. Let me be unable to be myself with how absolutely and utterly overcome I am with the knowledge that I have you now. That I get to hold you. That I get to kiss you and keep you and... God. I'm not unhappy. I'm so much the opposite of that that I'm not sure there's a word for it. Other than devoted. Smitten. Bewitched, body and soul."
Steve wants to kiss him then. Almost does, with the way they're just staring at each other, breathing the same air —air that smells like Eddie now. In the end, Eddie just holds him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and whispers, "Let me bask in it." 
And so they do. 
Wayne called Eddie not long after with the words, "Chrissy just told me the wedding's off. Please tell me that means what I think it means." 
Eddie just blushed, reaching for Steve, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I, uh. I finally talked to Steve."
There was a very loud cheer on the other end that made Steve laugh, falling into Eddie's side, holding him tight, a weight falling off his shoulders knowing that Wayne was okay with them. 
You know, I always figured it would be you. 
No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me.
It made his eyes sting again, but he basked in the moment and in the knowledge that Wayne was on their side. Always has been, always will be. 
"You better come here on Sunday, and bring Robin and Chrissy, too." 
"Robs and Chrissy?" Eddie asked. 
"Oh, you're in for a treat. I'll see your asses on Sunday, boys." 
And with that, he hung up. Steve immediately went to call Robin, hopeful and giddy with Wayne's implication, knowing that Chrissy was Robin's person just like Eddie was his. 
"She loves me," Robin said, on the verge of tears, and Steve joined here right then and there. "She's– Steve. She's so– She... God!" 
"Yeah," Steve laughed at the ceiling above his bed, grinning because Robin sounded so happy, not even caring that she didn't have the right words for it, because he could hear Chrissy laughing in the background, too. Laughing and saying hi to him and interrupting Robin's ramblings and groans and giggles with kisses that always left her dumbstruck for a good two seconds each time. 
When the call ended, he went right back to the living room, where he and Eddie started watching Pride and Prejudice before, and fell right on top of him with a happy, happy smile. 
~*~
It happens at Wayne's, exactly one week after Eddie showed up at Steve's in the middle of the night. One week after the phone call. One week after I love you. 
It happens in the soft glow of the fairy lights Steve and Eddie helped him put up years ago. I happens after Wayne hugged him tight once more, after he pulled Chrissy to the side and promised her that she's still his kid, that he still loves her, and that he's happy to see her smile like that. After he promised the same to Robin.
It happens when Wayne's inside to refill their drinks and Chrissy and Robin are caught up in each other that they're blind and deaf to the rest of the world. When Steve turns to find Eddie looking at him with the softest, gentlest expression. 
"Eddie," he whispers, leaning in to rest their heads together, lacing their fingers and stroking his thumb along Eddie's palm.
"Yeah, baby?" 
Baby. It fills him with butterflies, with the urge to scream, to shout from all the rooftops that he loves Eddie, and more importantly, that Eddie loves him back! Baby. Baby.
"I love you." 
"Hmm. I love you more." 
No, you don't. Just longer. "Can I kiss you?" 
He can feel Eddie's little gasp before he leans in even closer, rubbing their noses together, cradling Steve's face with his free hand. "Please," he whispers. 
And Steve does. He captures Eddie's lips, pouring into it everything he feels and more. Sealing the promises he's made and all the ones he's yet to make. The promises to love and cherish Eddie. To be brave. To be there. To stay and keep and bask. 
It's nothing like their first kiss all those years ago. There is no question behind it this time. Only declarations, only promises, only the beginning of a shared future. 
And there are many, many more after this one.
🌷🤍🌷 THE END 🌷🤍🌷
tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar @scheodingers-muppet @morcantinon @hexdbog @homosexualhomocide13
god i can't believe it's over. i thank you, every one of you, who cheered for me, cried with me, screamed and yelled at me, and stayed with me throughout this past week. i have no words right now other than thank you 🤍🌷 and i hope this is okay
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dafry-shenanigans · 4 months
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Randy: IS HE DEAD?!?
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Jake: ...No, he's just tired
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Not being able to tell if your half ghost friend is dead or just dead tired is kinda hard sometimes-
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kindledrose · 9 months
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goofy hermit doodles!! because uhh why not!!
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meownotgood · 2 months
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it felt amazing to finally see that green checkmark on ao3, to finally move the full fic to my finished folders on docs, to finally say with my whole chest that it's really completed...
I'm proud of myself and what I managed to make, I'd been working on this fic for over a year, and I felt a lot of doubts while writing. I didn't expect to write so much. I often thought I was saying too much, or the fic wasn't good enough. when I reread it, I realized it wasn't perfect, but it doesn't have to be. I wrote something that was so unabashedly me, and I'm so grateful for that feeling. I'm so happy that I can write what I enjoy, that I can be myself while doing what I have always loved the most. I learned and progressed, and I can feel only excitement for whatever I write next!!
thank you for your patience, and if you end up reading, thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart 💞
I took off work tomorrow to celebrate lol (actually because I'm still sick but we're calling it a celebration). I don't know what to say next so here's some cute pictures of aki. three cheers for fic completion 🎉🎉🎉
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duahauuoplanh · 9 months
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From the first day we met, my world has always been full of you.
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inktho · 1 year
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lifetaker
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n7punk · 8 months
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hang on i've got something i've always wondered
i'd love to hear your reasoning/elaborations in the tags
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TAG GAME PSA
Hey writeblrs?
I mean this in the gentlest way possible (I love you guys) but these massive reblog chains of tag games are getting out of control. Some of them are getting as long as the colour of the sky post.
If someone tags you please make your own post to respond (and save all our dashes). Don't reblog their post with your addition. If you want an easy way for you/your followers to view the post of the person who tagged you:
click on the three little dots at the top right of their post
select "copy link"
select some text on your own post
press ctrl+V
Your post will then have a link embedded into it like this.
It's still good writeblr etiquette to reblog the post of the person who tagged you. Just reblog it separately from your own response to the tag. (As well, poor OP gets notified of every single addition to their post, no matter how far down the reblog chain. It's gets weird opening your notifications to see the mutuals of your mutuals' mutuals' mutuals adding snippets of their writing onto your (for example) Heads Up 7 Up post.)
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iwonderwh0 · 7 months
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The day androids got taken away for deactivation, hundreds of kids with household androids cried themselves to sleep, mourning a family member.
They got attached. Hank too got attached.
Before today, he thought of the revolution as an overall positive event - something worth celebrating, or something he celebrated, at least. For him it symbolised change, a beginning of something better. It was only now that the true scale of the tragedy caught up with him, making him aware of how many android lives it actually cost. Only now it clicked with him how many of them were still mourned, and how, of all people, it was mostly kids who truly missed them.
Throughout December, he saw the memorials with old broken smartphones lined up in tight rows and columns, each for one killed android whose life was meaningful enough for someone to honour it with flowers and candles. And back then, he could never understand why were those flowers so crappy-looking and messy, mostly artificial or folded out of paper as origami. He used to wonder if it was another part of a symbolism - "artificial flowers for artificial people". Now it was obvious that the reason for that was much simpler: it was mostly kids who brought them. Most of them had no means to bring real flowers, so they folded them out of paper.
For the first time, Hank felt embarrassed for never having contributed anything to that memorial when it was still around. He should have brought some flowers, the real ones. Maybe he could even succeed in finding his old smartphone with dead battery and use it as a part of the memorial – if not for someone he personally knew, maybe for some of the deviants he saw last November, perhaps the one who killed himself in a holding cell. He didn't *know* him, didn't even consider him to be a person then, which, however, doesn't mean he could ever forget about him or his case. Arguably, he was the only person who kept thinking about him almost daily months after he died.
Hank didn't lose any close friends or family members the way others did that last November, though. The android he cared most about was still alive, now sitting right beside him on a passenger seat, waiting for Hank to start the engine, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. Hank noticed him always fiddling with something, be it a small object or his own clothes that he kept adjusting even if it was perfectly fine the way it was before. He would rub his palms together as if struggling to keep them warm or other times he'd tap the table or other surface he had around with his fingers in some irregular rhythmic patterns that Hank sometimes wondered was originated from some songs he happened to hear, maybe even among those Hank played in his presence himself.
Fiddling was one of those things Connor always did, even before turning deviant. Something so human yet small enough to be completely ignored, or, like in Hank's case, only think of it as something, android did to annoy him personally. How come he never gave it a second thought back then, never wondered why those completely pointless actions were even there? Would it change anything if he did? Would it provided him with enough evidence to answer his question before he had a chance to ask it with a gun? He wished the answers to all those questions were 'yes', and yet it was only now, months later that he actually paid attention to Connor doing any of that and questioned why. Why did he fail to see the significance of it earlier?
As he pondered that, Connor crossed his hands over his chest, deep in thought, while his fingers tapped out a rhythm on his left sleeve. Was he even aware of doing that?
Suddenly Hank felt the urge to touch him. Confirm his presence, and remind him of his own. It took a conscious effort to suppress that urge. Instead Hank cleared his throat and said.
"I remember when kids wanted to become pop stars or video bloggers. Never occurred to me that some kids today might want to be androids."
Connor stopped the tapping and eyed him.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know... It's just weird. That's all."
Connor shifted in his seat, turning to face Hank.
"Who did you want to become?" he asked, "As a kid."
"Not a police lieutenant, that's for sure."
"That's not the answer to the question I asked."
"And you're gonna make it my problem."
Hank could almost feel being scanned as android tilted his head slightly.
"Am I bothering you?"
"Always."
Connor grinned at him, and Hank felt the corners of his own mouth rising as well at the sight.
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bubblegumr1ck · 5 months
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coloured version with an actual background coming when i feel like getting around to it
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arachnestwilight · 2 months
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Some EnPonies expressions and an update on Natsume Potion Charm's cutie mark. :V
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