#I don't own the characters yada yada yada

[morbidapples]

good luck charm

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖽𝗈��𝖺𝗅𝖽𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4,474 words; 24,496 characters

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: penis in vagina sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), fucking on a couch, praise kink, pet names, cursing, art is lowkey kind of a freak here, oral fixation, needy! art donaldson, established relationship, lovesick fools, brief mentions of future plans yada yada ya, reader is also a tennis player.

𝗮/𝗻: hey... i'm ovulating right now so i had to crank out another art donaldson smut fic. i am genuinely obsessed with the man, it's a little scary. but, i am actually starting to write smut more and mayhaps have another art fic coming out soon that involves a kitchen countertop... anyways. this is a medium length piece, not as long as the other art donaldson smut fic, but still a decent read (I hope). Don't be a ghost reader, and if you have any requests for anything, feel free to dm me.

Art loved you. You were always there for him. In the stands at every match, patching up minor scrapes after a fall. You were always there when he needed you.

He craved your attention like a drug, like it was the oxygen he needed to breathe. A bit needy, in your eyes. But you never minded.

"But you always come to my matches."

He had a small frown on his lips, his hands gripping your waist as you stood in front of him, your hands gently massaging the nape of his neck.

You smile softly at him and his antics. "I know, but I have my own match tomorrow. I can't miss it."

His pout deepened, whining a bit as he pulled you down on the couch next to him, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs.

"But you're my good luck charm," he whined again, burying his head in the crook of your neck, lips planting gentle kisses over your skin.

Your breath hitches slightly at the feeling of his lips against your skin, but you still manage to speak. "Y- you don't need luck. You're a good player, baby."

He continues kissing, moving upwards to the spot on your neck that he knew you loved, his hands running up your thighs, slowly but teasingly.

"Sure, I don't need luck, but I want it," he mumbled against your skin, his hands now slipping under the hem of your shirt, calloused fingers tracing patterns along your sides.

Your head instinctively tilts back to give him better access to your neck, as you struggle to focus on anything other than Art's mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. "Are we really... talking about this right now? It's hard to... think rationally right now."

His lips curved into a smirk as he nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, knowing full well the effect he was having on you. His hands continued to wander, moving higher on your sides, thumbs gently rubbing over your ribs.

"Thinking never got anyone anything, sweetheart," he whispered, his warm breath against your skin doing nothing to help your current state of arousal.

His lips slowly make their way to your ear, his mouth nipping at the lobe before he spoke again.

"Besides, thinking is overrated. You should just 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭."

With that, his hands found your waist again, and in a swift motion he had you pinned against the couch, his body hovering over yours as he looked down at you with darkened eyes.

His mouth continued its work down your neck, moving along your jaw until he reached your lips, his mouth claiming your own in a deep, passionate kiss.

Art shifts, trapping your legs between his as he grinded his hips against yours, a low growl escaping him as he continued to devour your mouth.

You gasp into his mouth at the sensation, hands holding onto the side of his stomach. You're breathless, hungry for him.

He takes advantage of your gasp, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and exploring every inch of you.

His hands move lower, finding the hem of your shirt and starting to tug at the fabric. He breaks the kiss to pull the shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his eyes roamed over your exposed skin.

He leaned down, his mouth returning to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone and between your breasts.

"You taste so good," be murmured, his fingers tracing over the lace of your bra, teasing you as he moved lower to your stomach.

His hands went back to your hips, holding you in place as he continued to shower your skin with kisses. He moved down your stomach, his lips tracing the lines of defined muscles, marking you as his own.

He could feel you squirming under him, your breathing becoming ragged, and he couldn't help but smirk against your skin. He loved having you like this, all flushed and needy, completely at his mercy.

Art's hands moved behind your back, easily finding the clasp of your bra and freeing you from the lace. He pulled away from your stomach to look at you, his eyes roaming over your exposed chest, a hungry glint in his gaze.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his calloused fingers gently tracing the curves of your body. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. It was something only he could make you feel. You were okay with that.

His mouth was on you again, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, teasing and pinching your sensitive flesh. His teeth latch on to your pebbled nipple, nibbling on the hardened bud.

He heard you moan, the sound going straight to his groin, making him grind against you again, trying to get some friction.

He pulled away, his breath hot on your skin as he spoke. "You like that, sweetheart?"

He watched as you tried to nod, your eyes half-lidded, your body arching up against his touch.

He chuckled under his breath, his thumb and forefinger gently pinching your nipple.

"Use your words, baby."

You bite your lip slightly, trying to form a coherent thought, chest flushed and littered with love bites, gaze hazy as you look at him. "Y- fuck, yes-"

He smiled at your response, pleased with the sound of your voice as you spoke.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his mouth continuing its journey down your stomach, his teeth nipping at the skin.

He moved lower, his lips trailing over the waistband of your sweatpants, his hands pushing the fabric down your legs.

He sat back for a moment, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in the sight of you sprawled out on the couch, completely exposed to him.

He smirked, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he leaned back down, his mouth attaching to the inside of your thigh.

He left a trail of kisses up your thigh, his teeth gently biting at the sensitive skin. His hands held your hips down, keeping you in place as he slowly but surely made his way to your core.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of you driving him on as his tongue slowly traced over your folds, tasting you. He'd thought about being mean, teasing you, but his own desire overruled that thought process.

He heard you gasp, your body arching against his mouth, and he couldn't help but smirk against you, knowing how wet you were for him.

He continued to explore you with his mouth, his tongue swirling and tasting as he found the spots that made you moan and jerk against him. His hands kept you in place, his strong fingers gripping your hips as he worked you into a frenzy.

You felt like you were floating, the pleasure making your head spin. God, he was fucking good at this.

One of your hands grips his hair, while the other squeezes your breast, giving you that extra stimulation. Your head lolls back against the couch, half delirious and hazy, as you let out needy whines and moans.

"Art- Art, fuck- s' good... so good..."

His mouth never left its place between your legs as he heard you call his name, the sound going straight to his cock. He hummed against you, the vibrations against your sensitive cunt making you squirm even more, your hand in his hair tugging at the locks.

He pulled away for a moment, his mouth slick and shiny with your arousal as he looked up at you.

"That's right, sweetheart. You're being so good for me," he purred, his voice gravelly and low from arousal.

His mouth returned to you, his tongue picking up its pace as he devoured you. He could feel you getting closer, your body tensing, moans growing louder and more frequent.

He held you down even more, his fingers gripping your hips almost painfully as he pressed you into the couch, his mouth never stopping its relentless assault.

Your moans are rising in pitch, voicing his name repeatedly like a prayer. Your cunt is clenching around his tongue, and your chest is heaving up and down. You're going to cum very soon, and he knows it.

He could feel you getting closer, your body practically shaking with need. He doubled his efforts, his tongue working overtime as he pushed you higher and higher.

He looked up at you, watching the expressions of ecstasy on your face as he brought you right to the edge.

"That's it, that's my girl. Come for me," he growled against you.

His words combined with his tongue send you careening into your peak, hips canting up, core clenching, moaning his name almost pornographically.

"Oh, god- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- s' good to me, Art-"

He keeps mouthing at you through your climax, prolonging it by never letting up his efforts. He loved this, the feeling of you coming undone under him, the sound of his name leaving your lips in between gasps and moans.

He pulled away once he was sure you were spent, but he couldn't help but tease you just a bit more, his tongue darting out to swipe up the last bit of your arousal.

You whine, hips twitching at the overstimulation. Your gaze is hazy, lips bitten, eyes dilated, as your head tilts back against the couch, half delirious from your orgasm.

He watches you for a moment, a satisfied smirk on his face as he moved up your body, gently pressing a kiss to your stomach before capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss.

He pulls back to look at you again, his hand cupping your face.

"You're so pretty like this," he murmured, his thumb tracing your bottom lip where it was bitten red.

As Art's thumb presses into your mouth, your tongue darts out to trace it. He swallows hard as he slips his middle and ring finger into your mouth, and you keep eye contact with him as you suck on his digits, eyes blown wide with desire.

He watches you intently, the way your lips wrap around his fingers and your tongue swirls around them nearly making him shiver in anticipation.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear as he speaks, his voice low and seductive.

"You look so good with your mouth full, sweetheart."

You moan around his fingers, tongue still coating his fingers with saliva. You've always been a sucker for praise, especially from him.

He chuckles quietly at your response, his eyes darkened with lust as he watches you take his fingers deeper into your mouth.

"You like that, don't you? You like it when I tell you how good you are?"

He pushes his fingers deeper, his other hand holding the side of your neck, thumb rubbing over the skin gently.

You moan again, eyes fluttering. You both have a heavy oral fixation, you know it, and he knows it, too. Your hands go down to his jeans, fingers grazing over his erection. You want to please him, too, just as he had done for you.

He can feel your hand on his jeans, the gesture not going unnoticed as he sees your eyes flutter. He growls lowly, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan.

"You want to take care of me too, sweetheart? You want to show me how good you can be for me?"

You whine, needy and uninhibited. You want to make him feel good, too. Your mind is fuzzy with only one thing, him.

He smirks faintly, watching you get lost in the feeling, the sound of your whine making his cock twitch inside the denim confines.

"Alright, baby," he purrs, taking his fingers out of your mouth and gently lifting your chin with his hand.

"You know what to do, don't you?"

You're quick to discard him of his jeans and shirt, and underwear, as you lightly push him back on the couch, his legs spread. You settle in between his legs, on your knees on the floor, sucking and biting the skin of his thighs and hipbones, your slender hands pressing down gently on his thighs.

His head rolls back at the feeling of your lips and teeth on his skin, a low moan leaving his lips. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, his muscles tensing as your touch sends jolts of pleasure through him.

"That's it, sweetheart," he gasps breathily, his grip on the couch tightening. "You're so good to me."

One of your hands move to cup his base, squeezing gently, and you begin to leave teasing kitten licks at the top, the other hand gripping his thigh.

Art hisses at the feeling of your hand on him, his hips involuntarily bucking at the contact, his toes curling against the carpet.

"Fuck..." he gasps, his hands finding your hair and fisting the locks, trying to control himself. "You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart."

When your tongue runs up from his base to his tip, and flattens against his slit, he nearly loses it. And you haven't even put your mouth over him fully yet.

His eyes are squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hands trying to ground himself in your hair. He's never felt so wound up, so worked up, the touch of your tongue making him lose his mind.

"Baby-" he gasps, his head rolling back against the couch. "I- I won't last if you keep this up."

When your mouth closes around him, his mind goes blank. It's so warm, so soft, so good. Your tongue is swirling around his slit now, hands gripping his legs as you take him in fully.

Art can't think, can't form a coherent thought, can't do anything except feel the sensation of your mouth on him. His hips twitch, his hands gripping your hair tighter, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps and moans.

"Oh, god-" he gasps, his back arching off the couch slightly. "That's- that's good- s' so good, sweetheart-"

It isn't long before his hips are stuttering forward into your mouth, and you're taking it like it's nothing, mouth wrapped around his cock. You aren't letting up, and he's on the cusp.

He knows he can't hold on much longer, the pleasure building higher and higher, his hips involuntarily bucking into your mouth, needing more friction.

"I- I'm gonna-" he chokes out, his hands gripping your hair tighter again. "I'm gonna- sweetheart, I-"

After a few seconds, you ease off, and he scrambles to get himself the rest of the way off. His hand frantically moves up and down, he's so close, so, so close- he cuts himself off with a strangled moan as he cums, releasing on his hand, and all over your chest, dripping down the valley between your breasts.

He can barely catch his breath, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high, his body shaking slightly from the aftershocks.

He looks down at you, a mixture of satisfaction and awe in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you, your chest covered in his release. The sight nearly does him again.

"You're- you're amazing, sweetheart," he gasps, his voice hoarse from the strained vocal chords. "So fucking good to me."

You look at him then, eyes hooded and half-lidded. Then, you take your index and middle finger, scooping up his creamy spend on them, and suck your digits clean, all while keeping eye contact with him.

𝘖𝘏 𝘔𝘠 𝘎𝘖𝘋. He could come again just from watching you.

Art's eyes widen as he watches you, a guttural moan escaping his lips. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

He reaches down, grabbing you by the upper arms and pulling you up onto his lap, his mouth finding yours in a desperate, messy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

You moan into his mouth, hands cupping his face, hips rolling against his. God, you're soaked, he can feel the wetness against his exposed cock.

He breaks the kiss, his mouth trailing down to your neck, biting and sucking at the skin, leaving his mark on you. His hands are on your hips, gripping them tightly, helping you move against him.

He can feel how wet you are, how much you want him, and it drives him wild.

"You want me, sweetheart?" he murmurs against your neck, his breathing ragged. "You want me inside you?"

You gasp, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. His cock is hitting the right spots to make you squirm, and that's all you can think about.

"Yes- fuck, please- need you-"

He smirks against your skin, his hands roaming all over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You need me, huh?" he teases, his mouth now on your ear, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?"

Your voice takes on a high and breathy tone, bordering on begging. At this point, you are.

"Please, please- I need- need you to fucking fill up- Art-"

He leans back slightly, his eyes roaming over your body, raking over every inch of skin. He takes in the sight of you, desperate and needy on top of him, and it takes all his self-control not to give in right then and there.

He captures your mouth in a rough, hungry, messy kiss, mostly teeth clashing and tongues licking into each other's mouths.

"Get on your knees, baby."

You do as he says, as he places a cushion under your hips. Always thoughtful, he is, even when he's completely feral for you.

He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your spine, as he positions you comfortably and prepares you.

He takes his time, his mouth and hands roaming over your back, leaving a trail of kisses and bites in their wake.

He positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his breaths hot on your skin as he speaks.

"You ready for me?"

You nod so fast he swears you could've given yourself whiplash, moaning softly, needily. "Yes, yes- please-"

He holds your hips steady, his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing ever so slightly.

He leans down, his chest pressed against your back, his mouth by your ear.

"Take a deep breath and relax," he murmurs, his voice almost sultry.

He takes a moment to let you adjust, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips, waiting until you give him the okay to continue.

When you do, he pushes into you slowly, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. It's a struggle to not start pounding into you immediately, but he's coherent enough to recognize you need a minute.

You moan once he fully bottoms out, your hands curling into the fabric of the couch, arching up against him. You feel so full, so stuffed.

Art holds you close, his chest pressed against your back, his mouth leaving tender kisses on your shoulder. He takes a moment to gather himself, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"You okay, sweetheart? M' not hurting you?" he asks, his voice thick with arousal, his hands on your hips holding you still.

You take a second to adjust to the stretch, and when you feel like you're ready, you tell him. "I'm good. Y- you can move."

He nods against you, his hand coming up to gently grab onto your hair, pulling lightly to get your attention.

"I want you to look at me. Can you do that for me?"

He watches as you turn your head to look at him, your face flushed and your eyes hazy with desire.

"That's my girl," he praises, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. "Now hold on tight."

Within a second, he's pulled out, turned you over so you're on your back, and gone back in. He wants to see your face as he makes you feel good. And you already look wrecked.

He looks down at you, his eyes scanning your face, taking in every little expression— the way your mouth hangs open, how your eyes flutter shut, the moans and gasps leaving your lips.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, his hands coming up to cup your face, holding your head in place so he can watch you come apart under him.

He continues to move, slowly at first, his eyes never leaving your face, taking in every reaction you have to his every touch and movement.

He watches as the pleasure builds within you, your body arching up towards him, your hands coming up to cling to his shoulders.

He leans down, his mouth finding yours in a deep, messy kiss, his tongue delving into you, tangling with your own.

He feels your legs come up, wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer, deeper, the new angle making him let out a guttural moan.

You moan into his mouth, as he hits a deeper angle inside, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving half crescent moons in their wake. The room is warm, not only from the hot summer air, but also the heat coming off of both your bodies.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as his breaths come out in ragged gasps. He can feel your nails dig into his shoulders, and the stinging sensation only serves to drive him wilder.

"You're so good to me," he pants, his hands roaming over your body, tracing over every curve and contour. "So goddamn good to me."

He quickens his pace, his hips snapping forward harder and rougher, his eyes locked on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression.

He can't even think coherently anymore. All he can focus on is you. How you feel, how you look. Every noise that is drawn out of you with each thrust of his hips.

He can feel his own release building, the pleasure coiling in the pit of his stomach like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

He continues to move, his motions growing sloppy and erratic as he begins to lose himself to the sensation.

"I'm gonna-" he gasps, his voice strained and uneven. "I'm gonna-"

He's determined to bring you over the edge first. He reaches down in between your bodies, thumb finding your clit, and applying pressure.

You moan, eyes fluttering, lips parting, jaw going slack. Your nails dig into his shoulders, as you clench around him. You're so close, he can feel it.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him drives him insane, the moans and gasps escaping your lips only adding to the sensation.

He keeps up the pressure with his thumb, his own release building, his muscles tense and taut with effort, but he refuses to let go until you've come undone first.

"That's it, sweetheart," he gasps, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me see you come apart."

"F- fuck- Oh, oh god-" His thrusts hit just the right spot inside you, and it sends you careening over the edge, eyes rolling back, voicing his name over and over like a prayer.

He watches as you fall apart beneath him, your body writhing and trembling, the sight of you coming undone pushing him right to the edge.

His movements become erratic, his hips stuttering as he clings onto the precipice, the sensations almost too intense.

"Oh god-" he moans, his voice trembling. "Gonna- I'm gonna-"

When you clench around him again, it's enough to finish him off. He moans hoarsely, hips thrusting through his own release.

His release hits him like a freight train, his hips stilling, his body shuddering with the intensity of it. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps against your skin.

"Fuck-" he pants, his grip on you tight, his whole body shaking from the aftershocks.

He tries to catch his breath, his body still slumped over you, his heart racing in his chest. He lifts his head up slightly to look at you, and god, the sight of you, so utterly wrecked and breathless, nearly does him in again.

You look down at him, eyes hazy and filled with affection, as your hand comes up to gently card through his sweaty hair.

He practically melts under your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he lets out a contented sigh.

He moves slowly, carefully pulling out of you, trying not to hurt you. He then collapses beside you on the couch, his head resting on your stomach.

"You're going to be the death of me, y'know that?" he mumbles sleepily, his voice rough but fond.

You laugh quietly, a faint smile appearing on your face. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

No, it wouldn't. It really wouldn't, he thinks. You are marked with love bites, put there by him, you're this wrecked because of him. You love him.

He grins at your comment, his eyes drifting up to take in the sight of your marked skin. He feels a sense of pride at the sight of the love bites he left behind, a silent claim that you were his.

He lifts himself up, propping himself up on his elbow so that he's staring down at you, his gaze soft but possessive.

"You're right," he answers quietly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. "It wouldn't be so bad at all."

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you're both tired. Art can feel his eyelids drooping, the allure of sleep calling to him. And you're not faring much better, drowsy and content being here.

He can tell you're just as tired as he is, both of you coming down from the adrenaline high and now feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones.

He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. He burrows his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of you.

"Let's take a nap," he murmurs sleepily. "Just a little one. We can clean up later."

You hum softly in agreement, body perfectly melding into his. As Art drifts off, he's only thinking about how much he never wants this to end. He never wants to stop having you.

The last thing he remembers as he slips into unconsciousness is the feeling of your body against his, the sound of your breaths, and the gentle beat of your heart.

He falls asleep dreaming of a life with you, filled with love, laughter, and happiness. And he knows, deep down, that he'll do anything to make those dreams a reality.

[bbybhr]

What i enjoy

Summary:just old man logan finding comfort in an ordinary day with you and Laura...simply enjoying loving you

Warning: none really,

Tag: angst , comfort , domestic life

Domestic life with old man logan

Oldman!logan who came home after a normal day at work, nothing out of ordinary the only remarkable thing about today was the cold weather but he got used to that so there's no mentioning it...after all he was two hundred years old and he learned what to expect from winter when he was a little boy,he's not thrilled about it though,he despise cold like a lot of other things

He puts the key into the keyhole and the click sound echoes in his heart...he loves to return home, one of the few things that he enjoys

He knocks of his dirty shoes and leans to pickup his "slippers" which you bought for him and Laura to match yours, of course he showed his protest by grunting and telling you "his way too old for this" or "what even is the purpose of this things?" But he secretly loves them...the feeling of having something on him that belongs to your soft little world, the feeling of reassurance that if someone sees you and him together it wouldn't be like he's some horror movies character that got into a frame of an animation about sugar and honey and bunny and yada yada...but it would be like a happy little family,so slippers also are some of the few things he enjoys

As he slowly approaches the living room he hears you and Laura giggling, he stops at the foyer looking at you two and the thick blanket you got on yourselves, he can not wait to get under that too, to hold you both close to him,to feels his two heart that aren't inside of his body but are far more important, he rather claw at his own chest and take that clock machine out than seeing you two sad or even at the very least a little discomfort, and yes he loves to be a part of that cuddle blanket city of his two princess but he also loves watching you laughing and stuffing your faces with popcorn...so he waits, waiting between two of his favourite activities is also one of the few things he enjoys

He takes the warm air of the house in his lounges with a deep breath,there's a delicious smell of food that you made and you and Laura agreed to don't touch it until logan comes home from work,he can feel his stomach turn in hunger for something other than his cheap liquor,for something that doesn't burn his throat but nourishes his stomach and heart at the same time...coming home to a warm meal is again one of the few thing he enjoys

He feels the warmth of the house cuddle his weary bones and body...His shoulders slowly tens down and he can feel a small smile on his face before pushing himself from the foyer and making his way towards the couch

"I'm watching you two for at least thirty minutes now, what if I was an intruder?do you have any survival sense?"

You and Laura jump from the surprise...it's the safety that a home and family brings after all,that's the reason Laura isn't as alert as she used to and logan doesn't feel upset about this, it brings out the fact that you two (and anyone else in the area) are sure that no one dares to disturb the safety and stillness of THE WOLVERINE'S House and he enjoys the reminder of the safety that his protection brings

It's after the dinner when Laura and you fell asleep in his arms while watching a fairytale bullshit, he closes his eyes and the golden light of the house shuts up before them,he can stay like this forever,he thinks...having his whole beautiful family is another thing he absolutely enjoys

but he knows you'll feel sore tomorrow you don't have the strong regenerate power as him and Laura, so he slowly gets up,with a delicacy and thoughtfulness he never thought he had in him so he wouldn't wake you two up,he turned off the TV before scooping up Laura and carrying her to her room and laying the puffy blanket on her (being a father is one of the things he never thought he would enjoy but now he can not figure out that how would life be without laura) than he makes his way to the living room again, he kneels beside the couch like a surrounded soldier and slowly Brings his hand to your face and brushes a strand of your hair with the tip of his finger like he's touching something sacred,he won't move his hand afterwards from your face just caressing your cheek at a gradual peace, how delicate, he thinks, how could you trust him with yourself, how could someone this fragile trust herself with a war machine...with a weapon...touching you with his blood stained hand is also one of his favourite thing to do

He picks you up in his arms without moving his gaze from your face like not looking at you even for a second it's a waste of time,beside he memorised the path to your room a long time ago so there's no point to look away anyway,

To know every path that ends to you is also one of the things he enjoy

He lays you on your bed with so much care like you would break if he doesn't treat you like a butterfly with fractured wings,he climbs on and lay behind you,one hand under his head so he could look at all of you with one glance,like a hunter looking at it's prey like he's sizing you up for his next meal,after a moment he wrap his other hand around your waist to pull you closer as if you're not close enough, never close enough actually, he wanted you under his skin if he could! he takes a deep breath in your hair and felt that familiar rush in his veins (that got to him since he got home) grow stronger,one more breath and his breath became shaky and his vision of the top of your hair became blurry,another inhale and he's taking shallow and rapid breath yet he's trying for dear life to be quiet, taking your scents one more time and he felt his cheeks became wet and something in his throat brook...that wall that he felt stronger in the moment of weakness,that brick fucking wall that made his breath hitch when he was alone when he didn't have you nor Laura, that very same wall that he tried every day to drink away...Well how do you know...looks like his chatter box doll with those beautiful eyes was the cure all the time...

"Where were you..."

He said under his breath more like how breeze whispers in the ear of a petal while passing by and he closed his eyes to surprisingly no nightmare...no feeling trapped...just the scent of your hair and your quiet little breath

There's few things that he finds interesting...lesser things he finds enjoyable...but they're all about you!

[meanbossart]

Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)

As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.

Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )

I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:

I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.

Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:

Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.

Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.

So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:

Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:

posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.

In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!

While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).

Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.

Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)

Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:

"Can I trace this junk?"

And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.

However,

If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.

Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".

So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.

Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.

A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.

[shiiro-arts]

have you ever talked about why you put piercings on natsu? like in your own character design. bc i love that addition<3 (also if u have any other personal tweaks on their character designs, pls tell me all about them)

The main reason why I gave him piercings was because I wanted to do a re-design. Simple as that.

But with time I started giving them meaning

From the beggining I knew I wouldn't give Lucy any, not because I don't want to, but because of my headcanons.

I never gave her piercings because I have this headcanon that Jude instilled in her so severely that she cannot modify her body in any kind of way that the trauma simply remained (without counting the earrings), Lucy has tried to get piercings to overcome that part of her life, but she has panic attacks the moment she sees the needles.

While natsu has a lot of them, about 15 in total (if I counted correctly), I wanted to show how differently they grew up, Natsu never had rules applied to his body, he always had that kind of freedom, that's why I gave him so many piercings.

I wanted to contrast the different kind of lives they had with the way they present themselves

I also gave Natsu an star shaped earring, the reason? It reminded him of Lucy. He saw the earring, bought it, and went to the guild to show it to lucy (already wearing it)

---

About their designs

Lucy stays practically the same, if I were to change something, it would probably be adding scars, like the one from END. (which I should, but I'm too lazy to actually do lmao)

I did change natsu's, when he is feeling very strong emotions, his draconic features show up, his fangs grow, scales appear, his eyes become slits yada yada yada. It's not dragon force tho.

Also, I like making him beefy hehehehehehe

[justwinginglife]

Tomorrow

Guyssssss- I haven't written smut in a HOT minute, so sorry if it's sub par, I am warming back up lmao. But I just find it so funny that the thing that gets me back into writing smut is the new Caleb trailer. Anyway, yes this is NSFW, 18+, yada yada. Please don't send hate, I know as much about Caleb's character as you do, and probably less because I'm not as attentive as some of yall, but I am just as feral after the new trailer so I HAD to write a fic. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was-”

Familiar eyes gazed back at you, halting your train of thought in its ever spiraling tracks. Even in your dreams (and your nightmares, which had lately begun to outnumber the dreams), his eyes weren’t as vibrant as they were now, and you’d started to hate that you couldn’t even remember that one detail about him properly when you’d just laid him to rest not three months ago. You never thought you’d see those shimmering eyes of his ever again, but now there they were, bright as day, and your voice had chosen this moment to sink back down your throat and bury itself deep in your stomach. 

He looked away, only giving you a quick nod to convey his hasty acceptance of your apology, before he turned to leave. 

“You’re… you’re…” Your words stumbled through your lips like a baby learning how to walk for the first time and you cursed yourself internally for your sudden ineptitude. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about what you might say to him if you’d ever been given a chance to see him again, if it ever happened that there was some god out there to take pity on you and see fit to return his life to him, or if ever there came a time when you obtained the ability to travel back to the past and undo your previous mistakes, protect him like you should’ve, but now that he was actually standing here before you, seemingly alive and well, leaving you possibly blameless (when you’d done nothing but fault yourself these past few agonizing months), you found that any possible words you could summon fell short of anything you actually wanted to convey. 

You settled for a simple, “You’re… alive?”

At your words, his shoulders tensed and his eyes - the eyes you’d always loved so much, the eyes you’d grown to miss so much- suddenly began to dart back and forth, as though scanning his surroundings. You recognized that behavior. You’d been taught to assess for threats in the very same way. 

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you wanted to touch him. To reassure him. You reached a hand out but hesitated a moment before your fingers graced his sleeve. When you made the decision to rescind your touch, a flicker of pain flashed in his eyes but it quickly disappeared as though you’d merely imagined it. 

You cleared your throat, drawing his attention (and anxiety) once more. You knew you shouldn’t be talking to him, not like this, not in the middle of the street, but you didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to again. Whoever was threatening him would have to wait. “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I once knew. He used to always climb up my balcony and sneak in without warning to play tricks on me. I miss him doing that. Sometimes I leave the door unlocked in case he ever wants to again.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “But it appears I was mistaken, so I’ll let you go about your day. Excuse me.” And with that, you continued on your way home, hoping and praying that he’d gotten your hint. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caleb hesitated at the door.

He shouldn’t be here. What the hell was he doing here? He’d stayed away all these months, endured all the emptiness and all the loneliness all on his own, suffering in silence to keep you safe, only to throw it all away again just because you’d asked, just because you’d missed him. He’d known you would miss him; it shouldn’t have changed anything. Shouldn’t have changed his goal, shouldn’t have affected his plans. But he hadn’t expected to run into you on the street like that, in a neighborhood so far from your own, at the most random hour of the day, and he hadn’t expected the way his heart would throb in his chest at the sight of you, at the sound of you. He hadn’t expected the way your words would move him. The way your words would remind him what you meant to him. How much you meant to him. How much you always meant to him. 

He knew he was being selfish, climbing up your balcony like this, when it could very well put the both of you in danger again, just because he wanted to see you, but was it so selfish to want to dry your tears? Was it so selfish to want to hold you in his arms, to stop your shaking? To remind you that he still loved you? To ask you not to forget him? 

So he turned the door handle. You had left it unlocked like you said. He wanted to laugh and he wanted to scream. How could you be so careless? Didn’t you know what kinds of people there were lurking in the shadows? He’d have to reprimand you properly before he took his leave. 

When he entered your room, shutting the door quietly behind him, there was no one in the bed. His brows furrowed. You’d left the door unlocked, so where were you? 

Arms surrounded him from behind and his heart thundered in his chest. If he hadn’t caught a whiff of your perfume, he might’ve assumed you were an assailant and slammed your head through a wall. God, you were so careless. Didn’t you know he could’ve hurt you when you snuck up on him like that?

“Idio-” He turned to hiss at you, but stopped when he saw your tear stained eyes and quivering smile. 

“You came.” You whispered. Your arms around him trembled but your grasp was firm, as though he might disappear at any moment if you let him slip away. It broke his heart. What had he done to you?

“I did. I’m here. I’m here.” He repeated, wrapping his arms around you protectively as he rested his head atop yours. He held you until the shaking subsided. “I’m… I’m sorry.” The words were strained, and he knew they’d never make up for anything, and they’d never change what diverging paths they’d have to return to after tonight was over, but he felt the need to offer his apology to you anyway, useless as it was. 

“It’s… it’s okay. I don’t know… I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you have your reasons. You wouldn’t do something like this to hurt me. I just… I missed you. More than you could possibly know.”

His heart shattered into pieces at your words. “I… I know. Because I missed you too. So much.”

You smiled at that and he felt undeserving of such a smile, not when he was the reason it’d disappeared in the first place. 

“Stay with me tonight.” You said firmly, your voice finally finding its strength.

He shook his head apologetically. “I can only stay for an hour or two. I shouldn’t even be here at all; it’s dangerous to stay the whole night.”

“But I won’t be able to see you again, right? After this, it’s all over? So stay with me for the night. Just one night. Give me something to hold onto for the rest of my days.”

He winced. When you put it like that, it was hard to refuse. Didn’t he owe you this? Didn’t you deserve this much? He’d be gone before you woke up; the least he could do was hold you tight and fight off your nightmares as you slept. So he begrudgingly agreed, telling himself it was for your sake that he laid beside you, not wanting to admit that he also just wanted one more chance to pretend that you were his. To pretend that he’d be waking up to find you singing some song in the shower or flipping pancakes in the kitchen in the morning. To pretend that you and him could go on like this forever, that you could simply belong to each other for an eternity. 

So he climbed into bed beside you. He climbed into bed and conveniently ignored the fact that, knowing you as well as he did, you should’ve asked him by now what was going on. Knowing you, you should’ve demanded that he stay. Knowing you, you should’ve insisted you could fight whoever was against them together. And he should’ve told you that you were being naive and that wasn’t how the world worked. He should’ve had to claim he was doing this to protect you. But you asked no questions and he gave no answers. So maybe he was being naive too, when he simply held you and figured that holding you was all there would be to it. 

And then you turned over and kissed him. 

And his heart stopped.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You could feel his tension.

You could almost drown in it- it was so thick.

But you kissed him again and again, until it began to melt away, as you murmured, “If all we have is tonight, I’m going to make the most of it.”

He was hesitant at first, and you figured he would be. You’d always had this unspoken connection with him, but neither of you had ever admitted to it and you were sure he chalked your relationship up as nothing more than adoptive siblings or childhood friends. But time was running out and you needed him with every fiber of your being. And you needed him to know that. 

You threaded your fingers through his hair as you pressed all your passion into his lips. Eventually, his hands began to find your waist, pulling you closer, as he deepened the kiss. His tongue snaked its way into your mouth, tangling with yours in a messy dance. When you let out a moan, he couldn’t help but groan, knocking his hips against yours in a desperate attempt to satisfy himself. You returned the friction, dry humping the bulge that had begun to grow in his pants. 

And suddenly, he was kissing you harshly now, not caring who heard you, not caring who could be lurking in the shadows. If he died tonight, he’d die happy. If he hurt you, he’d apologize later. 

His hands fisted in your hair as he tugged your head back so he could devour the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail of bruises in his wake. When he practically tore your nightgown off, hungrily sucking and biting at your breasts, pinching your peaked nipples in between his fingers, just like he’d always dreamed of doing, and you suddenly whined his name, he nearly lost it. 

His whole life, he’d always seen you as someone to protect, someone to safeguard, someone to watch over, even if he knew you could take care of yourself. But right now, with you arching at his touch, with you whimpering at every press of his lips, at every drag of his tongue, he couldn’t help but want to utterly ruin you. He wanted to make a mess of your hair, to make a mess of your pussy, to make a mess of your life. He wanted to make you need him, to make you obsessed with him, to make you entirely devoted and dependent on him and only him. 

He wanted to fuck you so hard that you were bedridden for the rest of your life. He wanted to fuck you so deep that you felt his dick in your throat when he drilled it into your pussy. He wanted to fill you up so entirely that his cum was still spilling out of your used up cunt months after he’d left you. If he got you pregnant, at least you were sure to remember him. 

He was completely lost in his addiction to you, mind swimming with salacious thoughts, when you suddenly cried out in pain, jolting him from his deranged state. He quickly let go of you, breathing heavily as he attempted to regain some control over his current, sorry state. He was about to apologize when you let out a frustrated huff.

“Why’d you stop?” You demanded.

He blinked. 

You could tell he didn’t understand. You dragged his hand to your soaked panties. “I didn’t want you to stop.” 

He sucked in a sharp breath in attempts to steady himself, but he couldn’t help the feeling that had begun to surge through his entire body. He wanted you. And he wanted you NOW. And if you weren’t going to stop him, he wasn’t going to stop until you were on the verge of losing consciousness and he was shooting blanks into your fucked out cunt. 

“You just woke up the devil, baby. Now you’re going to have to take everything I give you like a good, little girl.”

Wasting no time at all, he yanked down your panties, tossing them god knows where. You’d have no need for them tonight. You only had time to gasp, before he began jamming his fingers inside your dripping pussy. 

On more than one occasion (more than even ten or a hundred), he’d imagined how he’d take you for the first time. He’d be patient, gently coax you open with a finger, then two, maybe three. He’d lovingly dote on your clit, teasing it with his tongue, before trailing down to lap up your juices. Maybe his tongue would work your pussy open even wider for him before he finally, slowly, inserted himself inside you. He’d only go as fast as you wanted. He’d be as gentle as you needed. He’d tell you that you were doing so good, tell you that he loved you so much, tell you how perfect you were. 

But he’d already fucked that up tonight when he started with three fingers and pumped them so roughly, so hastily, into your cunt that if you hadn’t already been soaked, it might’ve hurt. And then he got impatient and decided you were spread wide enough for his cock and yanked his pants down his legs. Before you knew it, he was flipping you over, pinning your wrists harshly against your back, before he slammed his dick so deep inside you that you felt it in your stomach. 

“Caleb!” You groaned into the pillow, biting down on it. 

“Shiiit,” He hissed. “Shit, shit, shit.” With every cuss, he thrust into you harder and harder. “That’s right, baby. Say my fucking name. Remember who makes you feel this good. Not fucking Zayne, that’s for sure.”

Maybe you were feeling particularly masochistic tonight, but when you heard his words, noting the hint of insecurity he’d probably been hiding your entire life, you couldn’t help but feel devious. Letting out an exaggerated moan, you replied, “Ughhhhh, I bet Zayne would split open my pussy so nicely though… I bet he could last for hours.”

Suddenly the bed snapped as the weight of his evol drove you barreling into the floor. “Hours, huh? I’m going to make you mine all goddamn night and you won’t even remember your own name by the time I’m finished with you, let alone anyone else’s.”

He made good on his word.

It was a good thing you weren’t particularly attached to your furniture, because he nearly destroyed the entire bedroom, fucking you against every square inch of it. It wasn’t until you both literally had no cum left to release that he finally let you rest in his arms. The two of you quickly fell into a deep slumber beside each other, your bodies exhausted from the brutality of the night. 

When he woke up in the morning, both of his hands had been cuffed to the bed frame. He frowned, tugging at them as he called his evol to aid him, but it was no use. You’d put evol blocking cuffs on both his hands. When he searched what he could see of the room for you and didn’t find you, he called out your name, frustrated. When you didn’t answer, he called again. “Baby!” 

You popped your head into the room, grinning. “Mm, so I’m baby now? I like the sound of that.”

He was about to chide you when he saw a plate full of pancakes in your hands. Pancakes. He’d woken up to you making pancakes. Just like he dreamed of. His heart was practically bursting. 

“Open!” You smiled as you fed him a forkful. 

He groaned at how deliciously sweet they were. When he leaned forward for another bite, his cuffs yanked him back, reminding him of the situation he found himself in. He huffed. “Care to tell me why I’m handcuffed?”

You smiled again, your smile as sweet as the syrup on his tongue. “Oh, that’s an easy question to answer. Because you’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on, and when you do leave, you’re taking me with.” 

He scoffed. So that was why you hadn’t asked him any questions last night. You had already planned this. “Taking you with? Do you know how dangerous it is out there?”

You waved your gun in his face. “Hunter. Remember? I can handle myself.”

He rolled his eyes. And there it was. He knew you were like that. He knew you’d take on the world for him. This was the part where he said you were naive, that things didn’t always work out the way you wanted them to, that you’d be better if he stayed away from you. But as he watched you munch on your freshly made pancakes without a care in the world, snuggling up to him like it was just another Tuesday, he couldn’t bring himself to rebuke you. 

He only loved you more for it. 

Here you were, feeding him breakfast, sitting in his lap and telling him everything would be okay. So maybe it was his turn to be a little naive. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, after all the secrecy and the lies and the hiding, maybe you were the only person in the world he could trust. And maybe he trusted you to make it okay. Maybe you would be safer without him, maybe you would have a good life without him, but maybe it’d never be a great life without him either. Maybe he didn’t want you to have a life without him. Maybe he didn’t want to have a life without you. 

Maybe tomorrow he’d make you pancakes.

Maybe tomorrow he’d make you babies. 

Maybe tomorrow could start today.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter @tbaluver

[longing-for-rain]

https://www.tumblr.com/atla-confessions/759438562978562048/zutara-and-azutara-both-agree-katara-would-have?source=share

Do a post on this please I don't have the energy

I see this sentiment a lot lately, and yes, it is frustrating. But I’m going to talk about it because it perfectly illustrates the way (kataang) fans take power away from Katara’s narrative and reduce her complexity as a result.

For those too tired to look at the OP (understandable) it’s an anon saying that both Zutara and Kazula would be problematic and harmful to Katara because the Fire Nation would never accept her, and that she and her family would always be in danger yada yada blah blah.

And honestly? I agree with that. It would be dangerous for Katara. But if you think that would stop Katara, you fundamentally don’t understand her character.

Do you really think Katara is some poor little damsel who needs to be protected at all costs and sent away to live a quiet life in the countryside? No; that’s never been Katara. Katara wants to fight and she has never backed down from a challenge. It’s who she is.

Katara is the girl who left her home to travel across a war-torn world to chase even a chance that she could play a part in ending the war. She’s constantly putting herself in dangerous situations because she follows her heart, she does what’s right even if it’s a risk to her safety. The Katara we know from ATLA is not some demure, unassuming girl who would be happy to sit back and become known for her healing above all else while her friends fought in her place. Katara would have hated to see her future as it was written. She is loud. She is proud. She is a fighter.

Katara not only accepts a challenge; she’s eager for it. She’s strong, she knows it, and she isn’t afraid to use her power for good.

I know someone is going to jump in the comments and accuse me of “shaming” Katara for her “choices” (nevermind the fact that she’s a fictional character so every choice she makes isn’t her own; it’s a narrative chosen for her by the male writers) but I’m not even saying that being a healer is inherently weak or bad. I’m saying it’s not Katara.

It’s a shame that so many people are willing to overlook the butchering of her story just because they’re so protective over canon and are completely unwilling to engage with it critically.

This sentiment reflects the issues many fans have with canon kataang, because it’s a very common misogynistic trope in media. A female character can be strong, but it’s only temporary. We can see her fight and triumph, but at the end she’s expected to give that up for marriage and motherhood after the war. Her identity is reduced to her relation to a man. She isn’t expected to retain her strength; she is expected to accept a quiet recognition while the world sings the man’s praises.

That was the fate of Katara in canon. And it is a disservice to her character. Katara would have wanted to continue to fight, because the fight wasn’t over. Anon’s recognition that Fire Nation nobility would have an issue with her holding power shows they understand that too. So why do you think Katara would be fine with sitting back and letting that happen? Why do you think she’d let that scare her away? Not my Katara.

Especially when love enters the picture. Let’s say Katara did canonically love Zuko, or Azula, or anyone outside of her nation for that matter. Yes, it would be more difficult for her. But do you really think Katara would back down for that reason?

In fact, do you realize how insulting it is to imply that she should to anyone in an interracial relationship? Or a same sex relationship? Yes, societal pressure and bigotry make them more difficult. But it doesn’t make them wrong. And the idea that it’s selfish or wrong because it’s endangering the family is insulting.

Especially in the case of Kazula. The Fire Nation is canonically homophobic. There would be danger and backlash for any same sex relationship, especially involving a member of the royal family like Azula. So…what then. Are gay people supposed to stop existing? Is Azula supposed to just never date or marry because it would be too dangerous?

Yeah, no. 0/10, trash take, do better.

(This part is mostly a joke but I also want to point it out)

The anon also implies that Katara’s canon relationship (with the Avatar) wouldn’t also carry the same risks. Which it would, probably even more so. Katara could be used as leverage against Aang by people trying to get to him. I mean, it already happened in canon.

And quite frankly, Aang was pretty useless at protecting Katara in that situation. Look at his face. Literal baby goo-goo-ga-ga shit. She’s lucky Fong wasn’t willing to actually kill her and that she was safely underground when Aang had his Spirit Tantrum because she would have been dead meat. So if your argument is that poor helpless little Katara would be sooooo much safer with Aang, I’m really not convinced.

If you’re going to decide who to ship Katara with based on who can protect her from danger the best, well…

I’m just saying 🤷🏻‍♀️🍵

[jess-the-vampire]

You know it's stuff like this why I partly can't join the owl house fandom. The fandom seems to persnickety about liking certain charactersand headcanons, especially as someone who has dealt with similar shit before in my other fandoms. Granted there are other reasons I hate the fandom, but this is the worst one. It kinda soured the show for me, granted I never cared for it, but they just worsening it for me.

At times like these, i think it's important to remember posts like this

Bigger fandoms, will always end up looking worse by comparison, it's inevitable unfortunately.

For me, this is also unfortunately nothing new, anyone whose been with me since the start knows that.

It was a decade ago, in another fandom, that i was harassed and accused of being homophobic, because i shipped some characters together that wasn't the popular same sex ship.

I shipped plenty of other same sex ships, heck, i considered the characters in question to be bisexual. But that did not stop me from being publicly mocked, harassed, and put on block lists.

I was underage at the time, this was my first fandom experience, and it also soured that fandom for me, even the show itself.

People go into these things, thinking they're protecting people, or helping others.

And on the surface, i could see how one would think that.

But you're really not, people are not that simple, and neither are what they enjoy or are drawn to.

I was a teenager having fun in my own little space, with a ship i knew was noncanon, and it wouldn't of taken much research to find out i had no issue with the lgbt community at all, but no, it was "You are erasing us, you only ship this because you hate gay people, you're a horrible human being and yada yada yada-"

now, a decade later, it's "You are ignoring the poc cast because you're racist, you only like this character and are invested in him because you believe in what he believes in, you're a racist and sexist being for enjoying him and yada yada-"

Look, people do this because they want to protect people who have been screwed for centuries, it's perfectly understandable to worry that people who think belos is a cool character could like him for the wrong reasons. But people who genuinely think this way are a minority, and will be way more outspoken about those beliefs, is the solution here really to go up to anyone who likes something you don't and ruin them without evidence? To accuse them all of horrible beliefs?

this entire belief system removes the possibility of many MANY other reasons people enjoy media, and is straight up jumping to conclusions that if someone doesn't fundamentally agree with what you think, they MUST be a bad person. No critical thinking, no trying to understand others, just straight up assuming things.

Which btw, ironically, is actually acting WAY more like belos then anything the artists doing wittober were actually doing. Even the idea people are making art about his childhood and therefore sympathizing with him falls apart because there have been just as much art about his crimes so far.

Belos is a villain in a cartoon, people have latched onto villain characters since the dawn of time, it's nothing new. If you're going to keep this train of thought going....is disney just bad for their villian brand? are people also horrible for similar reasons if they have a favorite disney villian?

This entire thought process can be applied anywhere if you try hard enough.

Which is the kinda thing that allows actual human beings to be genuinely hurt here.

like are people going to be hurt more because people make aus with belos, or are they going to be hurt more because people who make said aus are accused or being racist people worth scrutinizing?

This thought process also doesn't take into the account of the fact that the people who like belos, might also be lgbt or poc, which....a lot of them are from my experience.

You can't both preach the show's message of accepting people who are different from you, and then also try and justify harassing people because they fandom differently then you. Unless the wittebane people are actively spouting out racist and sexist stuff, they're not doing anything wrong by engaging in the parts of the fandom that interest them.

Not everyone will be drawn to the show for the same reasons, you always gotta remember that, everyone has different favorite characters, different ships, and different things that make them happy.

Fandom is meant to be fun, people make aus because they're fun, they want to play with the media they like and do new things with it.

I strongly doubt everyone who has made an au staring hunter, or belos, or who thinks the wittebanes are interesting, sat down and said "Man, i like this show, but there are too much minorities in it, i hate minorities, i should make an au removing them or draw the wittebanes because they are white".

as a fan of these characters myself, i like them, but don't care too deeply about the blights, other white popular characters. I feel that should imply my investment in them has a lot more to do with other aspects then race.

in fact this makes me wonder if the person complaining in the tags would have the same argument about aus staring eda or amity in the same vain, even though hunter eda and amity are all lgbt, and two are disabled.

If you are doing stuff like this, either don't engage with stuff that doesn't interest you, because it's really weird to be this obsessed with a part of the fandom you don't care about.

or maybe, actually try to understand why people like it, rather then assume it's for the wrong reasons.

just my thoughts.

[dentos-wife]

Just saw Sonic 3 a second time which allowed me to put this into writing.

After sitting on what it is I like so much more about movie Shadow than the game one (who I also enjoy don’t get me wrong) and I think I hit on two things

Maria feels much less than a plot device and Shadow’s grief is much rawer.

I go over them below the cut and warning this is really long

1) Maria feels much less than a plot device.

Yes she’s no longer ill-*as far as we know* but her illness isn’t a defining trait anymore. In the game project shadow is tied to curing her illness he was created for her and thus you could argue they’ve been tied together since the day he was born which is wholesome and has platonic soulmate vibes and it’s great BUT I like choice. And this whole movies theme is choice. They hammer pretty hard it's all about making the right choices in the end. Well Maria fits that theme too.

In Sonic 3 she of her own volition choose him. We don’t know why she’s with her granddad, she could still be sick and that’s why he takes her everywhere with him we just do not know. But that is no longer important what important is she sees Shadow floating in that little tube and goes over to him, draws a little bunny face. She places her hand on the tube and decides he’ll be her friend and that is so powerful for him when everyone looks at him as some kind of alien freak. She kidnaps him from all the tests they do on him, is the only one who sees him as he is. She even mentions choices when they're looking at the stars after she sneaks them both to the top of the base to look at them. (I don’t like him no longer being a lab creation but I’ll live lol. I still think Black Doom created him, that comet he came down on is very much a Black Doom reference)

But back to Maria. She is also given a character now, she likes music, likes to roller skate, enjoys movies, gets into trouble, makes a little fort it’s very base character to go off of yes but it gives us so much more of a look at the girl she was and the influence in Shadow’s life she was. She’s no longer a protect the planet martyr we know nothing about she’s just…a girl. A young girl with a big heart who meant the world to Shadow and she’s gone. I did enjoy the interactions in Shadow Generations as well and it was about time but Maria in that still feels like she exists to die, to further Shadow's story and in the movie, I don't know how to explain it but she feels more like a real girl than a character trope.

2) Shadow’s grief is rawer and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

In the game Sonic Adventure 2 Shadow is living out a lie, we find out his memories are manipulated by Gerald and once he finally remembers he sacrifices himself to protect Maria’s true wish to live a life filled with purpose and protect the world even if she has to die (and then he was so popular they brought him back yada yada you know the drill)

Again, there’s nothing wrong with it. But so much of it hinders on Maria being this purer than life heavenly lamb that gets sacrificed who we know next to nothing about which eh isn’t a trope I’m fond of. In the movies this is changed to you are who you chose and you're my friend Shadow which I prefer, makes the relationship feel more grounded and real.

Sonic 3 Shadow has no memory manipulation at all. He sees the one person he cared about, the one friend he had die from a tube of his own chaos energy. Yes I do agree they are cowards for not letting her get shot and making GUN not as much of an antagonist, we’ll get to that; but how they had her die instead? From Shadow’s own power? That’s a great compromise. He doesn’t even have time to think about it and is automatically thrown into a liquid prison for 50 years. Who knows how many times that memory played over and over on his head? He says it's all I known for 50 years. Imagine seeing the one person you care about die over and over again it's almost like Shadow was in his own personal time loop but he had no control over anything.

So edgy mcedgestr wakes up in what’s basically a brand new world after suffering for 50 years and everyone is after him, he’s in pain doesn’t know why, is pissed off can’t trust anyone including the blue thing that looks like him; Sonic stepped out of a GUN helicopter he knows he will NEVER trust GUN but he recognizes Gerald who says they’ll get revenge so he follows him because it's familiar to him, and Gerald knew and was close to Maria too.

When Tom is on the brink on death (Which would NOT have been as powerful if we didn't see Tom and Sonic bond for two movies before this so well done) Sonic is PISSED, Shadow feels validated and he sees himself in the other hedgehog; he knows Sonic will kill him because he knows exactly how Sonic feels. He loses to Sonic who kicks the emeralds out of him and accepts defeat- allowing Sonic to take the revenge he wants. And Sonic stops. Sonic who has the exact same rage refuses to give into it. He makes the choice to not kill Shadow out of revenge. Shadow is confused he thought he figured everything out. Sonic's one choice changed his world view.

He remembers Maria’s words about the stars as he sits on the moon with Sonic learning about grief how it never leaves but you live with it and the memories he has aren't a bad thing if he chooses to keep the love in them, a light shines even though the star is gone, the new main quote, VERY different from the game but it works here very well. This time it’s about how those gone are still with you and you can always cherish those memories instead of dwelling on them and yes we all know this it’s the most basic of basic messages but Shadow needs to learn it! Maria, his star is gone but her light still shines on everyone she touched. That’s the beauty of this quote and it works so well with what they did with Shadow.

I would argue that’s why Shadow didn’t have his, “is this what you wanted Maria…” line it’s no longer about what she wants, though there is a great line where he questions what Maria would have wanted, but in the end it’s about the choice Shadow makes what Shadow himself wants, and Shadow decides to accept his feelings. Live with his guilt, live with his grief, live with his happy memories of Maria and use everything in his power to save the world from himself and Gerald’s revenge. Yes in the end he does think he’s going to die, but he’s sacrificing himself with a purpose and understanding for himself, not Maria though she’s still the catalyst. He spent the whole time alive figuring out what he wanted and, he would have died at peace instead of dying vengeful.

But he survives unlike in SA2, (remember to stay for the second scene in the end credits everyone) so we don’t have to give him some silly reason to come back to life. He’s alive and now he can live not for Maria’s wish but for himself. He’s alive and will always feel Maria’s absence, some days will be better than others and he probably needs a good cry but he made his choice for himself and he’ll continue to make more and live in the world. And I think that’s a damn good arc.

As for the rest I do think the movie would have been more powerful as a whole if Gerald wasn’t a loon and they went more into Shadow’s military purpose, showing a change in Gerald over time was he always batshit insane? I like to think he went mad with his grief of losing his granddaughter and feeling used by GUN. Or maybe at 104 he just lost what's left of his brain. But all he wanted was vengeance and he'd use anyone to get it. As he said it's not about what Maria wanted but it's about punishment. Gerald could have even had Ivo who thought the world of him but that wasn't enough he made the choice to value punishment over everything else. This parallel's Shadow in a way Shadow accepting grief and all the feelings that come with it. Gerald refuses and will kill everyone and himself first

GUN was...lol. I do like they don't confuse Shadow and Sonic anymore that was always hard to take in in SA2 but Walters had the lamest death ever if he's really dead. Rockwell they had to set up to dislike Team Sonic and I got the vibe she didn't jive with them since the beginning. So yeah this stuff was meh, Shadow was practically perfect though so I can forgive it

Anyway as a Shadow fan who always wanted more on Maria the person I love this change and I love how much it focuses on not just the choices Sonic makes (and hits you over the head with) but the choices Shadow makes which all comes down to the ultimate choice that started it all. Maria choosing Shadow.

[slowlysoluminary]

after that wack-tastic piece of media i figured we could all!! use a break!!!!!!! so!!!!!!

(more) doodles below the cut. and some commentary! Hurray!

^^ Post game is interesting. Most of the timeloop is about figuring the deal with the memories, some of it is about sif comng to terms with the king, and the very very end of it is about everyone regaining their memories.

so i say it again post game is REALLY interesting!!! because everyone, collectively, is trying to balance their old memories and their new memories. everyone except siffrin. who is not 1:1 old siffrin but is the closest to it, considering how much loop's been through.

loop??? becomes corporeal at some point in the end.

it's very bittersweet! i think! the whole of the party does an "i want to remember!!!" sequence, fighting with their own minds to fill the gaping holes they'd always ignored.

-- loop, after realizing the extent to which they're familiar with the party, had tried desperately to get the party to remember them throughout the loops. in hopes that something would change. they never remembered.

at the same time, siffrin is talking to the king - they're fighting with eachother physically and verbally, desperately trying to get the other understand. resetfrin is not the siffrin the king hated so earnestly, not the siffrin he tried to snuff out.

over the course of many conversations with the king, siffrin caught on. the king is the major lore dump here and is who causes most of the narrative development because i say so !!!!!!!!!!!!

actually. about post game. do you know why their designs are like that

resetfrin hated the lack of autonomy he had over their own body so they decided to. cut their hair. it's a bit curlier now that there's not a lot weighing it down

they decided not to keep the star stuff the king gave them. yada yada character development or whatever.

they gave their cloak to loop!! who is. siffrin again. physically at least. both siffrins are siffrin but with clear differences! like hair length and hair texture! and ohhhhhhhh no what do you mean the universe gave them the wrong body?? what?????? how cruel!!! how blasphemous!!!!!!!

loop hated the idea of keeping her hair darkless (mirror pronouns for loop btw!!! remember that!!!). it reminded them of what it was like to be ghostloop. which they hated!!! but they couldn't have their hair be lightless because that was resetfrin's new thing, so... they just. kept dying the bottom parts of it lightless. it's a compromise

how does the party distinguish the two siffrins, name-wise? uhhhhhh. ask me that question later. idk.

if.... if i have pre-game planned out. and post-game planned out.

then the inly thing I don't have planned out is the ACTUAL time loop bit

it's quite daunting because? that's like the entire point of the original game? it feels like i hve to live up to so much and like fhe loops have to have such a packed, coherent story

though, to be fair, most of what I'm writing will just be. the time loop bit. so i guess I'm figuring it out as i go

anyway, actually talking about the two sketches above, ghostloop is for SIFFRIN'S EYES ONLY!!! she can hit things but things can't hit her and all that.

after figuring out, through past loops, that the King can't see them, they realized siffrin was their only connection to the physical world. The Last Piece Left of them, physically and metaphorically. the whole time they longed for something else to acknowledge their existence. acknowledge theyre real

they also realize they can do Fuckery

the king has a Sixth Sense for loop's Fuckery,,, flipping him The Bird resulted in a rather quick death for Siffrin. whoops!!!!!

this au is. more closely revolved around gloop than i thought. don't worry!! i have a lot of gloop content planned! but. but you need to understand the pain of resetfrin and the king. the misery snd desperation fhe king felt about his country. siffrin pleading with the king, countlessly, hoping to see some SEMBLANCE of the man he once knew. you need to know the missing pieces the party finds, a hollow feeling settling itself around their hearts. you need to know so bad.

so you'll get gloop content! i am a big fan of the little guy myself, really. but !!! this au is not ONLY about them, believe it or not! hehe. haha. giggles. ok ill stop

[quasi-normalcy]

So there's this thread on the Star Trek subreddit asking everyone what exactly they don't like about Discovery, and, inevitably, most of the answers are pretty bland, surface-level whining about "people crying" or whatever (something that famously has never happened before on Star Trek)

(He's just rubbing his eyes, don't mind him)

But I actually wanted to get into the weeds of it a fair amount, and so I wrote a post that became way longer than I anticipated. So below (specifying first that I don't actually hate it by any means), here's my in-depth critique of Discovery as a science fiction writer and fan:

Basically issue is this: much has been written about how Star Trek is a utopian future, a positive vision for humanity and yada yada yada…and all of these things are true. And in fact, I believe that Discovery—after its first season, at least—fits into this tradition. And I’m glad that this is true of Star Trek; I wouldn’t like it half as much if it were like, say, Babylon 5, or Battlestar Galactica.

But.

Star Trek is also fundamentally a science fiction story. And more to the point, it’s a specific kind of science fiction story: it’s science fiction in the vein of Isaac Asimov. When it works, a good Star Trek story—like a good Asimov story—works as a sort of a mystery or riddle or logic puzzle. Our heroes are faced with some problem, and we, the audience, are given clues to the solution. And if we, and the heroes, are clever, our perspective on the problem shifts and there’s this beautiful Aha! moment when suddenly everything falls into place.

Why is the Horta killing those miners?  It’s a mother protecting her young.

Why does everyone keep disappearing on Beverly? The don’t; she’s the one who disappeared, all of this is a false reality, and her friends are trying desperately to save her.

How are they going to bring the Romulans into the war? By making it look like the Dominion murdered their senator.

Now, not all Star Treks (nor all Asimov stories, honestly) fit into this mould. Sometimes the problem is poorly set up; sometimes the solution doesn’t really make sense. Too often, they’re just technobabble problems with technobabble solutions and you’re just left wondering why anyone should care. And indeed, some of the very best Star Trek episodes have an entirely different structure. Like I think that “Living Witness” is honestly the best Star Trek story ever told, and it doesn’t even try to fit into the mould. Nor does “Family”. Nor does “Bar Association” or any number of my other favourite episodes. But I still think that this is the baseline Star Trek plot: clever people in space encountering problems—whether scientific, diplomatic, political, engineering, or moral—and solving them by being clever.

This applies, by the way, even when it’s not really the main thrust of the episode. Like in the latest season of Prodigy, there’s this episode where the gang are taken prisoner by the Vau N’Akat, and Jankom has his prosthetic hand confiscated by them. How do they get out? Jankom reprograms a tricorder and hacks his own prosthetic hand! It’s a minor plot point but it’s clever and it’s fun to watch, because it plays fair with what we’ve established about the universe and the characters and how technology works here.

So then. Getting back to Discovery, my issue, straightforwardly, is that I doesn’t really have this plot structure. I mean, it does sometimes—I think that the solution to “Magic to Make the Sanest Man Go Mad” is very Asimovian, and I can see how the outline of it in the resolution to the Klingon War, though I don’t think they really sold the solution. But it seems more or less absent after season one. I can’t think of a single moment in the last four seasons (and maybe this would change if I watched them again, but that won’t be for another few years at least) where I could point at the screen and say: “Aha! That was clever!”

It’s not that it’s dumb writing, by the way! Often times, particularly in season 4, the scriptwriters go out of their way to show their work (or, well…Dr. Erin Macdonald’s work, let’s be honest) to render their scripts scientifically plausible. But they feel somehow…paint by numbers.

Like, I liked season 4! It was my favourite! I think that the 10C were a cool concept and that the episode where they communicate with them was the best in the series. But did anyone ever seriously doubt how it would play out? The 10C didn’t know they were hurting people; we talk to them; we work out a mutually beneficial compromise. For Star Trek, that’s pretty much a stock plot; except here, it last 13 episodes. Or “Whistlespeak”; Michael and Tilly beam down to this jungle planet, participate in a ritual race…is there any chance that this won’t end in human sacrifice? Again, it’s competently executed, but it’s nothing new; nothing clever; nothing that makes me point at the screen and say “Aha!” The entire final season was a scavenger hunt literally based on solving riddles, and none of these riddles really rose above an escape room level. And what’s worse, none of these riddles really required elements that had been introduced beforehand. It never really felt like they were playing fair with us.

And ultimately, I think that all of this is a manifestation of the big, overwhelming problem with Discovery: everything—plot, character, worldbuilding—is driven entirely by theme. “We want to do a season on xenophobia / authoritarianism / COVID anxiety / etc.” Okay, well then this, this, and this need to happen, this character needs to act this way because they represent this, and then this needs to happen to convey this message. There’s no roomfor the story or characters to evolve organically; there’s no room for play. And that’s what this kind of cleverness is: it’s play. It’s the writers picking up the pieces that they’ve laid out and finding clever ways to use them. It’s the writers having fun. And if the writers are having fun, then the show is fun, and the audience is having fun! But if you just pick a theme and subordinate the logic of character, plot, and world to advancing this theme, it just becomes a sort of dour ritualistic pantomime, even when fun is had on screen.

Anyways, that’s my take.

[quezzzs]

"Detective Reed?"

"The fuck is it now, plastic?"

Nines' LED flashed a yellow as he sternly spoke to Gavin, who had his legs kicked up on his desk as he absentmindedly stared at the bullpen ceiling.

"We haven't made any progress in our case and you certainly haven't been doing even half of the work."

Instead of fighting back, Gavin just ran his mouth with what he could think of at the moment. "Thought you androids are so clever. You can solve this shit on your own."

Nines' LED went back to blue immediately. Gavin had always been so stubborn in doing his own work, criticizing Nines' artificial talent, saying that he would be better than the android ever could, and actively jump into defending his work style at any advice(good or not).

Besides the attempted insult, Gavin sounded quieter than usual.

This was definitely out of character for the short tempered man. "What's gotten into you?"

Gavin raised an eyebrow up as he turned his head to Nines' direction. "What do you mean?"

"You're acting...off today." The RK900 narrowed his eyes at Gavin, making a scan on his physiology.

///collecting data...

Nines' HUD flashed with new data on Gavin.

|LOW DOPAMINE LEVELS|

|LOW SEROTONIN LEVELS|

Among other signs, something occurred that turned the human detective into...that.

Nines leaned his arms against his desk as he questions Gavin.

"It ended, didn't it?"

Gavin only shot a quick angered glance before rolling his eyes and admitting it. "Bastard left with no reason." Despite the rough appearance he tried to present, Nines could tell it really affected the man.

"You know that you should try to stop getting yourself into relationships. This is the third person in the past 2 months."

That reminder got to Gavin, making him put his legs back down onto the ground, retorted back at Nines in irritation. "You don't get to say shit in this, it's my life and I don't remember you ever mentioning your special someone."

The LED went back to yellow again before switching back, Nines processing Gavin's words.

"Yes, but even so you're stagnating our progress. I cannot continue if you are lacking in the job you've worked for."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Detective, I'm merely-"

"I don't wanna hear it."

"Detective Reed-"

"Yada, yada, yada-"

Nines was getting pissed at this point. He didn't have any time for Gavin to play around with the subject.

"Gavin Reed."

Gavin had shut his mouth right up when he heard Nines' voice raised louder than before, though he was still irked.

Nines made an unnecessary sigh before talking. "I don't want to deal with your bitchy attitude you've been keeping up with today. Either you get it together and work on the case we were assigned or you leave early, though I don't think Captain Fowler would be pleased with the leave."

Now, Nines have made similar threats before during their time together. Surely Gavin would tough it out like he always does.

He doesn't.

Instead, he gets up, takes his stuff, and walks out.

"What- Detective! We're not-"

"See ya, Nines."

Nines was left alone in the DPD bullpen. Baffled on what just happened.

══════════════════

"Another on me."

"Sir, you've had 9 shots already. Are you sure-"

"Just a couple more, I got the money."

"It's your liver."

The bartender gave Gavin another glass shot of alcohol as he took the empty ones away to clean. Gavin's face flushed red as he hung his head low at where he sat, the music that played throughout the bar sounded muffled in his ears. He was lost in deep thought about what Nines said about him.

He knew he was acting up but he didn't know how else to deal with it. It's not like he couldn't get attached. The last three guys he's dated showed him so much care and each time they did, he believed it.

It's ironic that for a detective, he had trouble seeing the signs.

The first cheated, the second was taking his money, and the third one randomly decided he wasn't into Gavin anymore. He got played 3 times in a row. Why not a good drink to wash out the sadness? Sure it's temporary but at least he doesn't have to feel it now, right?

Gavin down his glass, thudding his forehead onto the wooden surface beneath his arms while he guessed what could be the case this time.

Was he being too forward? Was he too passive? Was he being too soft? Was he being too intense? Was he the problem?

He set the shot glass down, running his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath. Alcohol wasn't working out for tonight. He took out his card and paid automatically into the slot, standing up the best he could before walking out.

As he exited out of the bar, he saw a familiar face leaning at the side of his car. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Nines, who had his arms crossed and stared at Gavin with an unamused look, answered the question. "To supervise you. You left in a rush and it's not hard to track your location that you gave to me."

Gavin had almost forgotten he did that. Why did he trust the bot that much?

"Just-" He pinched the bridge of his nose, weighing the pros and cons in his head(minus the fact that his head felt like it was beating slightly right now)

But of course, Nines cut him off from his train of thoughts.

"No, I'm driving you back to your apartment complex. You are in no condition to drive right now and it wouldn't look good on your records to be charged with a D.U.I."

Gavin grumbled dramatically but he knew Nines was right about that. He already had so much riding his ass back at work and getting a D.U.I. might as well get him fired.

He didn't argue with that and tossed Nines the keys as he entered the passenger side.

══════════════════

Gavin opened up the door and set his jacket aside, tossing the wallet and keys onto the nearby counter. Nines followed accordingly inside of the building.

Gavin was blessed to have a spacious enough living space and so he only needed to take a few steps near the couch before he crashed down on top of it, groaning loudly. Nines rolled his eyes at how childish his coworker was behaving.

"Detective, I suggest that you-"

"Can you shut up?" Gavin adjusted himself to sit up but Nines had enough.

"No, I've had it with your behavior. No matter what tactic I use to get your ass moving along you end up sitting back down and throw yourself a pity party. I apologize if your love life is crumbling down but you have a job and you might as well quit if you wanna complain all the time."

Nines glared at Gavin, staring him down as he stood looming above the shorter man. Gavin hated that feeling. He got up and grabbed at Nines' jacket collar.

"Listen here, plastic prick, I don't want to fucking deal with it right now. I wanted to drink and go home but now my moods' phcking ruined 'cuz of you. Stop sucking the dick of your 'directive' and leave me alone."

"Would you rather have me suck yours."

...

Nines can be stupid sometimes.

This was one of those times.

The two men were left in an awkward silence from what Nines retaliated with, Gavin having an undetermined expression while Nines had a faint blue blush on his face from his bluntness.

He was so used to them bickering in situations such as this and had grown used to Gavin's unfiltered words that he might've picked up on some as well.

"I apologize, Detective. I didn't mean-"

"Would you?"

HELLO???

"Wha-"

"Tell me," Gavin shook his head for a moment before fully going for it. "Yes or no?"

Nines was frozen on spot. Speechless. Dumbstruck. Tongue-tied.

...

"Yes."

══════════════════

Nines sat at his desk, avoiding eye contact with the human that sat across(who was also doing the same thing).

He couldn't bear it anymore.

Nines shot a wireless interlink comm with Connor who was sitting on the other side of the bullpen.

'Connor?'

'Yes, Nines? Is there something you need?'

It was silent in the interlink for a moment.

'Nines?'

'I sucked Detective Reed's penis last night.'

"WHAT?!"

People snapped their heads towards where Connor suddenly yelled, but his eyes were dead set on Nines(whose face was blue as hell right now).

Inspo: my own post😭

Edit: next part has been added

[lynaferns]

I don't have time to draw it and idk if I'll have the motivation to draw it later but I had this DCA God AU for a while.

It's the typical concept of there is a God for each thing, Sun and Moon being the Gods of day and night (yeah yeah, very original), they have followers that give them offerings/sacrifices, each God has it's own temple and their power depends on their followers faith, yada yada yada.

In some places the followers are chill, in others they go crazy and sacrifice anyone who refuses to serve their God.

There is this main character (y/n?) who refuses to serve any God, they believe they owe nothing to them. Has survived through fierce determination and came up with their own ways to avoid the Gods eyes. Well, most eyes.

Aaaaand my brain fried. Maybe I come back later with more thoughts about this AU. Or maybe you have to wait until I can draw it because it's one of those times where my speech level is zero and I explain it better through drawings.

[celaenaeiln]

What's the deal with fanon Tim bc I read some comics with Tim and I've seen him in cartoons but all I see people talk about is "haha coffee addicted nerd who doesn't sleep!" and that just seems weird and wrong. Like my view of Tim has always been "he's a nice and extremely smart guy who sometimes pushes things a bit too far and maybe a bit set in his own ways/Batman's ways" but now I'm not even sure of that because I really haven't read THAT much (mostly seen him in other series) lol

No you're right!! Anon you're so right!!!

What the heck is up with fanon Tim Drake??

The thing about him not sleeping is actually true though

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #937

Batman: Contagion Issue #11

(I agree with Catwoman, Tim is so cute)

So I understand where the coffee addiction in fanon comes from but Tim's not actually addicted to coffee in the comics. I actually don't recall him mentioning coffee at all. At some point he might have but if he did, then those instances are so little in the grand scheme of things it might as well be called negligible if it's trying to be called an addiction.

But more importantly, Tim is so much more than that!! My favorite Tim Drake aspect of him is how sassy and sarcastic he is, it makes him so endearing!!

UGH NO ONE APPRECIATES HOW MUCH OF A LITTLE SHIT HE IS!!

Robin (1993) Issue #58

CMON CMON CMON LETS TALK MORE ABOUT THIS!!

Tim, you little shit, you know exactly what they say - cause you did it!!

HIS SELF-SATISFIED SMILE!!!

In all honesty I find Tim the funniest of the entire batfamily to read because he's so-he's so wholesomely quirky in a mean way. That's such as awkward way to describe it but reading his comics, you just can't get enough of them because he's just too funny!

At one point he has a massive fever and stuck underground with a bunch of weird kids and one of the girls is just like "please get better, please get some rest!" as she's wiping away his sweat and Tim has like no breath or energy at this point. But with the last remains of will power, he uses his breath to push one last question between lips.

Robin (1993) Issue #70

And as the audience waits in baited anticipation we get this-

Robin (1993) Issue #70

It's actually a very valid question and shows his detective thinking and yada yada yada but THE COMEDIC GOLD OF HIS TIMING!!

Like his situation and his question there's a massive gap that's almost incomprehensible about it all which is why it's so fantastic!!

The way he sasses batman is top 5 fav moments with him.

Azrael: Agent of the Bat Issue #91

Thanks @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 for finding it again <33

But Tim overall is just like a normal kid. He's what authors tried to do with Stephanie but failed. They were able to make him relatable to the audience because the way he acts, it's so quirky but funny. Yes, he's a boy detective genius but he likes messing with people, he likes solving crime, he likes hanging out with his big brother, he asks for relationship advice, he can get insecure, he can get upset without acting cold, he gets tired, he gets anxious, he's determined, and he's super dorky.

Robin (1993) Issue #25

Like really dorky.

But what I think really defines him is this panel

Robin (1993) Issue #48

This scene is probably what explains him best. Tim is someone who ponders a lot. He thinks constantly all the time whether it's about cases or his personal life, he just goes over the choices he makes constantly because he's just soul-searching alot.

He always means well even if he's awkward about it and he's just a diverse personality overall. The fanon interpretation of his character doesn't really do him any justice because it doesn't address how funny he is or confused or just a likeable, real person in general.

[segakat]

I just discovered you through getting one of ur YouTube videos recommended to me! Your art is really rad dude!

What’s your pucca au about? It looks really cool!

HI THERE! AHH thank you a ton that really means a lot!! :'0

for my au umm it's basically like a """"rewritten"""" version of the original show. i don't have a name for this au. i'm really bad with coming up with names for things so i just called it "The Pucca Au" 😭 i guess nothing specifically stands out in my own little universe for me to name it after but it's fine.

anyways, the premise basically well...again just the show as a whole but rewritten. It's still a slice-of-life style of a series but with story focused elements here and there with Pucca and Garu being the main lead of course. Throughout the series we follow along with them as these kids live their lives and go on wacky yet dangerous adventures together. Instead of pucca chasing garu around all the time they have a developing relationship (that's pretty much the main focus of the series. like c'mon guys what's a pucca au without PUCCAGARU, BABY!) and they as well as other characters have more depth to them and all that stuff. funny love and love recipe don't focus too much on character lore so it's like a prominent thing in my au!

In this case my au has a bit of a serious(??) spin on it than the original. but not to the point where it's overly serious or anything. i still want it to be humorous and whatnot. it's more of one of those series that are silly in nature but has more darker elements here and there. like it does get a little mature...and by that i just mean it does get violent in some areas..like if garu and pucca are battling their opponents and stuff, character trauma, all that good stuff. OH YES and for the universe as a whole, it focuses more on the more magical aspects of the world that pucca and garu live in. a lot of usual things going on in it, etc. since i feel like the og pucca series doesn't focus on that too much (this ain't me complaining about that btw LMAO again this is just my own take on the series. i simply adore everything about the franchise itself. if i didn't i don't think i would actually call myself a pucca fan 😭😭😭😭😭)

anyways, this universe is pretty...big i'd say. a lot of different misadventures go on in it. I did this thing where i combined the jetix toon and love recipe. like characters from both shows are in the same universe and all that! as well as...idk certain structures in the environment...yada yada. ok i need to move on from this.

SO i've made my own pucca ocs for this universe. one of the more important characters being.....this idiot, animagaru

but other ocs i have are like creatures and stuff. i want there to be a lot of strange creatures garu, pucca and the others encounter from time to time. a few examples are these! (i wanna make more but....um...I'll just wait for when my brain thinks up anymore ideas! smiles!). i don't have names for the 3 on top yet but the lion dude's name is Rionel. and uhhhh yeah they look out of place as heck on purpose i guess. The point is that they contrast with the softness and innocence of the designs of the pucca characters. I LIKE MAKING WEIRD CREATURES.

at least 2 of these are villains btw

kay, 'nough of that. I'll talk about the future au a little bit. I'm not very confident with talking about it in its entirety cuz 1. this blog is already long enough and dos it's still KINDA a wip. i've just been doing a lot of rewritting for it here and there <:) AND IT'S A LITTLE (very) EMBARRASSING. anyways (goodness gracious i say that a lot) The future au....well focuses on the future of the characters. it's connected to the main au but it's a separate series that's more episodic than slice of life. It's been like 6 years since the events of the main au where garu and pucca were kids and it's a BIT more serious toned. This is because it's to pretty much match the fact that Pucca and Garu are growing up and well...hey, life isn't all that easy when you're growing up. ofc, it's still wacky and cartoony all around. i live for that kinda concept, man

oh yeah they look like this

But besides that, their universe is corrupting. and well? they gotta do SOMETHING about it. This story also very much focuses on Garu and Pucca's relationship. things aren't the same when they were younger so...a lot of good and bad things happen. the entire au is basically like....a more realistic take on their relationship i suppose.

YEAH THAT'S PRETTY MUCH IT. why is this so long i don't know

[theredqueenandthebloodwyrm]

I think why I hate and find Eric Frankenstein so annoying is that 1) Obviously he's rather entitled, he feels entitled to The Bride, despite her obvious and repeated rejections of him, that's a rather irritating trait on its own. But 2) He feels and acts like he's in the right, that he is righteous and can do no wrong. So every shitty thing he does is amplified by that.

Oh but I hear you say "Everyone in the show is shitty / an asshole / does fucked up things" yes but they don't pretend to be something that they're not. Dr. Phosphorus is a bastard, sure, but he knows he's a bastard and doesn't pretend to be a hero or justify his shit.

Like Amanda Waller is fucked up, but I like watching her do fucked up shit, it's compelling, interesting, etc. And when she justifies her shit, it's obviously wrong but it's not this...entitlement towards a singular person.

I'm sure there's going to be character growth and all that, yada yada. Gotta wait for the next episode and all that.

[daenerystargaryen06]

Can antis like, keep away from Daenerys please?

I'm so tired of seeing people writing out crap that Daenerys will be the villain, Jon is better, she is mad, calling her Danielle, yada yada. Just say you don't like her (because she is ultimately better than your fave) and go.

I'm also tired of seeing people giving the Starks (especially Sansa) her traits. I've seen edits of people making Sansa a Targ, people talking about how she'll get Daenerys' dragons, that Jon will kill Dany for her, etc.

Just keep Daenerys' name out of your mouth if you hate her and can't stand that she is strong, independent, and has an amazing character arc. A majority of Daenerys fans don't like other asoiaf characters, but you hardly see any of them going on a tangent about how much they hate that character. Usually it's us Dany fans defending anti hate against Dany and also defending antis hate on Dany to prop up their own fave (mainly Sansa).

I heavily have a high disdain for show!Sansa (she's alright in the books, not my fave but she's much better compared to the garbage that is her show character). But I don't go out of my way to hate on her, diss her character, write pointless metas about her going "mad", "evil", or "dark". Nor do I see any other Dany fan doing so. We don't hate on Sansa to prop up Dany. We don't give Dany character traits of other characters/Sansa. We don't speculate about how she'll die or get killed or manipulated by another man. It's disgusting.

It's also disgusting seeing anti hate towards Arya. Arya is my second favorite female character in asoiaf. She isn't ugly, she isn't crazy or some violent murderer, she isn't going to be permanently warged into Nymeria and become Sansa's; nor is she going to become Sansa's assigned assassin to kill all her enemies while Sansa and Jon live in lala land. It's not going to happen.

It is so disgusting how a vast majority of Arya and Dany fans don't do half the things their antis/Sansa stans do, yet they go out of their way to bash these wonderful characters to prop up their own fave or to get them out of the way for Sansa or Jon (mainly Jon fans who bash Daenerys to prop Jon up and cheer Jon for killing her).

We can talk about our faves without bashing another character, making metas about them that don't even follow the text, and just being outright nasty.

Do better. Just keep away from Daenerys and Arya.