#I'M NERVOUS ABOUT THIS ONE

[throneofsapphics]

ola tudo bem queria fazer um pedido onde a leitora esta insegura sobre sua aparencia com poly!Rowaelin ps: estou falando com voce pelo tradutor do Google translator I don't know my English is right

absolutely perfect

Rowaelin x Reader

Summary:  You've been feeling unsure about your appearance.

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: mentions of  insecurities

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! 

You tug at your shirt again, trying to adjust it before huffing in frustration. No matter what you do it won’t sit right. It doesn’t feel right, nothing does now - nothing has for a while. Almost like you’re a stranger in your own body. You stand in front of the full-length mirror, your eyes tracing your reflection. Doubt creeps in the edges of your mind as you examine every little flaw and imperfection that seems to stand out.

Tears of frustration bloom as you stand before the mirror, staring, before tugging the shirt off, tossing it into the corner to try and find another one. Again, it doesn’t seem right. Maybe better, but not enough to make you feel right. One thumb runs over the bags under your eyes, and your eyes are drawn to the slight frizz in your hair - something you don’t have time to fix. 

Rowan and Aelin both have a natural confidence and you actively work not to be jealous of them. 

“What’s wrong?” Aelin asks from the door, startling you. No matter what, she can always sneak up on you. 

“Nothing,” you sigh, tugging on the shirt one more time. Hands squeeze your shoulders as she appears behind you, placing a kiss to the side of your neck. 

“Liar.” She murmurs, lips pressing into your skin. You take a step away, eyes still fixed on her in the mirror. 

“I don’t .. I don’t feel right.” You manage to say, the words slipping awkwardly off your tongue. 

Aelin’s brow furrows. “What do you mean, ‘not right,’?” 

“Just,” You sweep your hands down, gesturing to your body, not able to put it into words. 

“Rowan.” Aelin calls over her shoulder, and the male appears in the doorway within seconds. 

“Yes?” He asks, glancing back and forth between you two - likely trying to decipher if you’ve gotten into a fight again. Aelin must’ve spoken to him through the bond, because he comes over to your side, pressing a small kiss against your temple. “Talk to us,” he murmurs, one hand rubbing a comforting circle into your shoulder. 

But how do you explain it? How every little thing seems to stick out today, how each comment someone’s made in the past circles through your mind on repeat? “Quit thinking so hard about it.” Aelin says, pinching your cheek and ignoring your narrowed eyes. 

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, eyes looking back at the mirror. They both seem completely comfortable in themselves, exuding both confidence and self-assurance. A thought trickles through your mind, that maybe they’ve never felt this way - that they wouldn’t, couldn’t understand. You let out a small shriek of frustration before spinning on your heel and walking out the door, leaving behind two very confused mates. What you’re wearing now will have to do, otherwise you’ll be late to your meeting. 

-

“Should we go after her?” Rowan asks under his breath, watching her snatch her cloak and storm out the door.

“I don’t know.” Aelin replies, lips pressed in a tight line. 

-

“What is it?” Your coworker asks, setting down the text she’d been examining. 

You hold up the book, motioning to the title. 

She rolls her eyes. “No. What’s bothering you?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Her look says, quit bullshitting me. 

Yours says, mind your business. And she does, with a wary but concerned look. 

-

“Talk to us,” Aelin nearly pleads that night, watching how you read the same page several times, eyes not really comprehending what was in front of you. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You reply, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the line you’ve read ten times. 

Rowan snatches the book out of your hand, tossing it to the side. “Bullshit. We can’t help you if you don’t tell us.” 

“What makes you think I want your help?”

“If it bothers you, it bothers me. So talk.” He replies, unphased. 

Your hands press against your eyes, running down your face. Both of them invade the space next to you on the couch, Aelin shifting you so your head lays against her shoulder, running her fingers through your hair. Rowan’s hand rests on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into it. 

Those same tears of frustration start pricking at the corner of your eyes, one trailing down your cheek. Aelin gently brushes it away with her thumb, “none of that,” she murmurs, her voice gentle. “What is it darling?” 

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t feel comfortable.” 

“How?” Rowan pushes. 

“In my own skin, I guess.” You shrug, seeming to curl in on yourself. 

“You’re perfect to us,” Aelin’s fingers wrap around your chin, pulling gently so you look at her. Her eyes dig into yours, gleaming with an intensity that both comforts and puts you on edge. “Absolutely perfect.” Her thumb runs over your cheek, before cupping the back of your head, pulling you close so your foreheads pressed together. “If anyone tells you otherwise, let me know.” 

“So you can kill them?” You try to joke.

“Or worse.” Rowan mutters from behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders before tugging you into his chest, ignoring Aelin’s protest.  

-

The next day is a formal occasion - a ball for one thing or another. Aelin holds up different dresses, looking at each color - frowning, before putting it back to find another one. You pick yours out quickly, and stand in front of that same mirror again, shifting bits of fabric around to try and get it to sit right. Aelin seems to notice your discomfort and lays gentle hands on your shoulders. “You look absolutely beautiful.” She says, her fingers ghosting down your arm, leaving goosebumps behind.

You notice she’s still wearing a dressing gown, not having picked anything out. “Thank you,” you murmur, turning to place a kiss on her cheek. 

She grins, eyes lighting up, “help me pick something out,” she holds on to your hand, dragging you away from the mirror, back over towards the racks.

[alliaskisthepossibilityoflove]

inspiration thursday

thanks to @wikiangela, @thewolvesof1998, @athenagranted, @try-set-me-on-fire, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @devirnis, @jeeyuns and @lover-of-mine who have tagged me in various games and posts over the past few days❣️

This is for Nina who is trying to get through a bunch of chores today - here is your (hopefully) serotonin boost to get through at least one more ❤️

Enjoy another snippet from my podfic wip of let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts

tagging @shitouttabuck 😍, @housewifebuck, @captain-hen, @mistmarauder, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @mayonnaisetoffees, @rhea314, @rewritetheending and anyone else who would like to share something 🩷

(Editing to add that the previous snippets can be found here: 1 2 3 4 5 and Chris's redwoods speech)

[technically-human]

5 PhDs + 1

@lalalaurieart happy birthday! I offer you one of my silly headcanons

None of Robotnik's degrees are in medicine. Why should he care about that? His interest in the human body ends with his own. That is, until one time when Stone got really hurt, and the Doctor could do nothing. He coped by... teaching himself everything there is to know about medicine! He's very normal like that. Never bothered getting a degree for that one though.

[l4tchk3y]

Silver has managed to capture the Espio.💕

[paranoart]

I bum-rushed a Baldur's Gate 3 poster in time for MCM Comic Con London this weekend and oh god bg3 community I hope I did right by you

[artbymesa]

A followup to this piece I did with Leviathan because apparently this was an inevitability LOL

I just feel like Shepard would fluster him more when presented with the opportunity to ease tension and this one was right there.

Granted I dunno how he reacts when he's not romanced but my goodness. Garrus seemed all but a half a step away from overstepping chain of command and begging her not to go down in that diving mech. Like, twice. Then seemed rather frantic when she came back up if you ask me 😅

(Panel by panel under cut)

[qifreyplushie]

hello world i made a sweet little son for hualian with my good friend kiara (@hualianer) 🦆🤍

hua yazi is originally from a lovely fic written by her and i quickly got attached to this little goober so i made a design for him and now he's Our baby LOL i hope you guys can enjoy him as much as i do too!!

[neiptune]

like real people do

cw: 2.8k wc, female reader, friends to lovers, literally black cat x labrador dynamic, you showed up one day and are still part of his life, it’s an axiom he would never expect to change. until one day you meet his brother for the first time and rin shits himself

“We should hang out tomorrow. Are you free?”.

“No”.

You frown.

“Would you have said yes, if you were?”.

Rin takes a moment to reply.

“Probably not”.

The grin you offer right away doesn’t surprise him, if anything it makes him roll his eyes with fake exasperation.

“I love how you never change”.

He nudges your shoulder with his arm, hands buried in the pockets of an expensive coat.

“You’re annoying”.

“I know, it’s my whole thing. You kinda agreed to it when you accepted me as a friend”.

“I never did such thing. You showed up one day and never left”.

Your giggle echoes across the empty street and Rin finds himself basking in your usual affection, something he’s well aware he hardly deserves.

It’s true, though. One day, back in high school, you were assigned to the same group project with two other classmates and that’s when the information of being in the same class in the first place was presented to him. You talked too much and smiled too often but when it came to doing actual work, you turned into a weirdly serious, responsible student. Instantly, too. Which would’ve been an interesting aspect of your personality, if he so much as cared.

You both ended up being the only two putting in real work to finish the project but the only thing Rin could think of was that he was relieved his perfect grades could stay perfect despite the dead weight. Except, you didn’t leave him alone ever since, apparently happy (always way too happy) to have found a new friend. He doesn’t remember how many times, throughout his high school years, he had to repeat that you two were not friends. Over and over again, the deterrent had failed miserably.

Rin has kinda made peace with your presence in his life by now, despite adulthood and your careers playing a significant role in keeping you apart, whenever he visits his hometown you’re there and whenever you happen to be where he is, you insist on seeing him. Stubborn as he’s always been, in his own mind Rin stands his ground that there’s nothing tragically wrong in allowing you to consider him your friend, still. There’s also nothing particularly dramatic in letting himself indulge in someone else’s obstinate fondness.

You’re a good person, he knows that much. Patient, generous, always the first to offer help and the last to ask for anything. You’re stupid. And gullible. Way too easy to take advantage of. It’s why he, to this day, still keeps an eye on you, walks you home in the middle of the night, doesn’t shut the door like he’d do with anyone else when you show up uninvited to his house. Sometimes he brings you something too, little mementos from his travels that hold no real meaning, despite the way your eyes shine with wonder when he begrudgingly hands them to you.

Rin knows you like him. Or at least you used to, so many years ago. He remembers hearing you confessing the secret to one of your closest friends. You never really told him, a good person but still too proud to give him the satisfaction of rejecting you, stood by his side when no one else would put up with his pissy attitude, always disregarding your feelings. Even when he had girlfriends you were there, feigning nonchalance. Stupid. He remembers how he immaturely tried to get you to admit it, shared petty details of his dates, told you he thought he was falling in love with other girls. Your smile barely faltered.

Why did you do that to yourself all that time, he still wonders. But then again he’d have to ask himself why his impatience, or rather lack of understanding, led him to kiss you when you were both visiting your families for the holidays, back from college.

Rin remembers the snow, the umbrella you were holding trying to clumsily cover him too. He remembers you were babbling some nonsense about how proud you were of him, of his career, the way you always knew he was destined to great things, his blue lock jersey still stored safely in the back of your closet. Rin remembers the way he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, dry and chapped from the cold. Was that truly the only way to get you to shut up? He doesn’t know. He just knows he didn’t expect you to take a step back, thank him for walking you home. The kiss was never mentioned again, the following day you acted like it never happened and he was glad he could carry on without the burden of weird expectations. Well, almost completely glad.

He didn’t kiss you because he liked you or desired something as unnecessary as a relationship, he’s sure of that. He just wanted to, in that moment. A stupid whim. And if the urge of shutting you up in the softest way has possessed him multiple times after that day and throughout the years, out of mere curiosity or simple convenience, he’s never really admitted it to himself. 

You showed up one day, never left, are still part of his life. It’s an axiom he’d never expect to change. Perhaps he finds some comfort in it.

“You really can’t hang out tomorrow? ”, you’re doing that thing you always do when you’re disappointed, furrowed brows over big eyes that are rapidly losing their usual glow as you blink a few times. He sighs.

“I really can’t”.

“How long are you in town for?”.

“A few days”, he pauses for a second, then decides to concede, “we’ll have plenty of time”.

The way your lips immediately curl into a sweet smile almost makes him crack one too. Rin also loves how you never change.

“Oooh, you wanna hang out with me so bad!”.

“Shut up”.

“We’ll have plenty of time! Because I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world!”.

“Now you’re really pushing it”.

You laugh again, something tender settling over your features. He once more recognizes the affection in your gaze and has to look away.

Rin has hated October 10 for as long as he can remember.

It wasn’t always like that, as a kid it was a special day he got to celebrate his favorite person on. His brother went from being his personal hero and best friend, to a stranger he couldn’t recognize, to an adult he tries to have a decent relationship with, now. Still, October 10 is a hassle. If Sae is in town, something he tries to do for their sake, their parents always insist on having a small birthday celebration at home.

His mother spends hours decorating the living room, orders a cake so big it would require at least ten additional guests, they have so many gifts ready and wrapped by the table. For the past few years, Rin has been getting his brother a gift too. Not exactly a peace offering but the promise of getting there, perhaps.

It infuriates him that Sae still acts perfectly normal around him, never hostile, indifferent at best. They barely talk to each other but Rin doesn’t want to spend his entire life seething, he doesn’t want for one single feeling to define him anymore. So he also accepts the birthday gifts his brother sends him on September 9.

It’s just a day, he mentally repeats, it will be over soon. But he doesn’t expect the doorbell to ring, everything has already been delivered and they didn't invite anyone.

Rin certainly doesn’t expect you, standing on his doorstep with a million dollar smile and clearly hiding something behind your back.

“What are you doing here?”, he’s frozen, in disbelief. You’re not supposed to be there.

“Surprise!”, you grin, “look what I finally found!”.

You’re suddenly holding something so close to his face he has to take a moment to focus to understand what he’s looking at. It’s a horror game, one he’s looked everywhere for because they don’t sell those anymore. Rin only mentioned it once but of course you mentally took note and conducted your own, personal research. It must’ve costed you a fortune. You’re such an idiot.

“It’s not a good time”, he takes a step back, hoping you’ll get the hint and do the same. Your smile falls.

“I know. I just wanted to drop this off. Here”, you hand him the neatly packed gift. Rin takes it, then meets your gaze for a second. He wants to say something, apologize, but you’ve already turned your back to him and are quickly granting his wish of being left alone. He asks himself how much patience you have left, how close you are to abandoning him and his asshole ways for good.

“Who are you?”.

Rin freezes a second time, the voice behind him so close and oddly interested. You stop in your tracks, whip around to look at someone who isn’t him. Something hard flashes across your features but it’s quickly whisked away when you offer one of your usual, polite smiles.

“No one, I was just passing by”.

Something inside Rin cracks. No one? You can hardly ever shut up about being his friend. 

Sae hums.

“You should come in. There’s extra cake”.

When their mom catches sight of you, she also invites you in and there’s really no turning back from that. You’re too well mannered, too acquainted with his family to refuse. So you indulge them.

From the kitchen, he observes something he never thought would (or should) happen. Sae, the most infuriatingly detached, impassive person on the planet, is sitting next to you on the couch, where you’re making polite conversation. He’s listening. Rin knows he’s listening because he keeps his eyes on you, stance relaxed. Who knows what nonsense you’re rambling about this time, unfinished cake in the paper plate balanced on your knees. He says something, you chuckle. Rin focuses on his own unfinished cake, suddenly nauseous.

All these years, this is the one thing he didn’t want to happen, you meeting his brother. It’s petty and childish and Rin isn’t even quite sure why the desire to keep you from him has burned ardently this entire time but the fact that his efforts have vanished in the space of one afternoon brings a strange weariness.

By the time you excuse yourself, his parents are begging you to stay over for dinner. You refuse, thank them, thank Sae the most and wish him the happiest birthday. He dismisses your formality with the vague wave of a hand, says he hopes to meet you again. You smile sweetly.

“There’s no need”.

Rin ignores your objection similarly to how you ignored him the entire afternoon, finishes buttoning up his coat instead. He always walks you home and today will be no exception.

The silence between you two is so uncharacteristic it irritates him, to the point of affliction. Are you that upset with him? Ah, the magic must’ve finally flickered out.

“So, how was it?”, he spitefully pushes, “meeting the legendary brother”.

You keep your gaze on the street.

“It was okay”.

Rin scoffs.

“Just okay? You two really hit it off”.

“He was kind to me”.

“I’m sure he was”.

You finally stop in your tracks to look at him.

“Just because we’re friends it doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole all the time, you know”.

Rin stops too, lips parted, breath condensating into a tiny cloud by his mouth. The serious look you’re fixing him with makes his shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry”, he murmurs. Your gaze softens and he hates it, how easy it is for you to cut him some slack.

“Can you tell me what’s really wrong, Rin?”.

He feels like throwing up.

“Nothing is wrong”.

You hum, pensive, take the time to kick a tiny rock with the tip of your boot.

“I really think you should give yourself some grace. You deserve some peace”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“It means you’re so focused on protecting yourself from imaginary threats, you can’t see”.

“See what?”.

You offer a sad smile.

“How bright you shine”.

Rin is so taken aback he doesn’t know what to say, surprise paralyzing his entire body. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, perhaps years. It’s not fair that you have access to such a vulnerable side of him, it’s not fair that he can suddenly sense a weird lump in his throat.

“I don’t shine-”, he spits the word out, disgusted.

You’re usually very careful about his boundaries, whether they’re a hoax or not. But this time? You do something you’ve never done before, roughly take his face in your cold hands to make sure he keeps his gaze on you instead of avoiding it like a coward.

“You shine, Rin. I’m so tired of you being the only one refusing to see it. You’re the most resilient, talented, hardworking person I know. You did good. But the challenge is over, there is no war anymore, you don’t have to persist in this stubborn seclusion”, your eyes are suddenly wet, tears precariously collecting in your lash line, “you get to rest, now. Please, be proud of yourself and rest. There’s nothing to be on your guard against”.

He doesn’t remember his heart ever squeezing as painfully in his chest before, the urge to take your face in his hands making the pads of his fingers itch. He doesn’t remember the last time he came so close to let a few tears fall.

He’s gonna take you too. Just like he takes everything from me.

The thought takes his breath away for a moment. He feels your thumb gently stroke his cheek.

“You’re the legendary brother to me, anyway”, you smile, then sniffle.

Has he split himself wide open for you or are you simply that good at reading him? Rin can feel his hands shake when they fist the fabric of your plush jacket.

“Why are you telling me this?”, he can barely recognize the desperation vibrating in his own voice, “why do you even put up with me?”.

You blink a few times, astonished. Then smile again, warm and bright like the sun. Oh, he doesn’t shine, you do.

“Because I love you, obviously”.

And Rin doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to wonder what you mean. He knows. He’s known all this time.

“Why did you never tell me?”.

“Because you wouldn’t have let me do it in peace”, you chuckle, “you don’t like me like that so you wouldn’t have let me love you. As if I needed something in return. As if loving you as a friend couldn’t possibly be enough, anyway”.

His fingers are hurting from how tightly he’s still fisting the fabric of your jacket. It feels like his insides are exploding with a million different emotions and he doesn’t have nearly enough time to interpret them. But does he really need that, after all? Time. He’s known you for so long. 

“Stop putting up a fight, silly”, you let go of his face but flick his forehead, to which he grimaces, surprised, “let me love you. I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world after all! Who cares about your stupid brother? No wait, that came out mean, I just meant I care more about you than-”

Rin’s sudden embrace is suffocating, you’re pressed against him so tightly you genuinely struggle taking a single breath. You don’t remember him ever hugging you, the most noteworthy intentional contact you can recall is his arm around your shoulders when you insisted on taking a cute selfie, once. Every other hug, you had always initiated. His arms were always loose around you, cautious, despite his forehead often resting on your shoulder.

His clothes smell nice. He smells nice. You close your eyes, bask in a warmth so strange yet familiar. You don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him.

“You’re so stupid”, Rin murmurs against your neck. With a smile, you nuzzle your face further into his chest.

“So I’ve been told”.

He thinks his heart might be seconds away from slamming itself free from his ribcage.

“Can you tell me again?”.

“What, that I don’t care about your brother? Sure, fuck Itoshi Sae. Oh no, that was also way too mean, don’t tell him I said-”

Rin pulls away abruptly, hands kept on your shoulders to keep you there or maybe to steady himself. You shut your mouth, don’t comment damp cheeks dusted with pink. It may be the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

“Not that, you idiot”, his pitch is gentle, with a hint of amusement. One of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently skimming over your lips.

“I love you”, it comes out less bold now, timid. Something melts in his chest all the same.

“Will you pretend it never happened, if I kiss you now?”.

Your exhale is shaky.

“No”.

All these years and this is the first time you’re seeing Itoshi Rin truly, openly smile. The sight does something funny to your stomach.

“Good”.

[sturkillerbase]

Touch Starved!

Summary: How the JJK men touch you before and after being in a relationship with you - and how they're always dying to do so!

Neutral reader!

Including: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru (separated)

Genre: Fluff (lots of it!)

Wordcount: 5.8k total - 1.8k for Nanami and Gojo. 2k for Geto's

Notes: Very quick mention of periods in Gojo's, but it's so quick you can easily ignore it if you're a person who doesn't get periods. No physical descriptions and no use of Y/N.

Warnings: One brief mention of (little) blood.

A/N: Boy oh boy. This has been sitting in my docs for over a month as I ponder weather it's good enough for posting or not. Reasons being that 1. it's my first JJK fic and 2. I haven't written anything in over 2 years. So I'm really not confident about my rusty writing skills. When I was proofreading it, I thought Nanami's part wasn't good enough, but didn't know how to make it better! Which led to two more weeks of me not wanting to post it. But today I've summoned the courage and BAM! Here it is! Anyways, hope you like it (and let me know if you do, please)! Proofread but let me know if you spot some error.

Nanami Kento

Nanami never touches you. He may be dying for any kind of touch - a slight brushing of hands when you hand him something, your arms pressing against each other during a car drive, accidentally bumping into you as he enters the room you’re exiting – but none of it ever happens. He wouldn’t let it. He’s too respectful to let it happen. Damn, he’ll rush to the car just so he can take the passenger seat before anyone else does. Well, the front seats are more dangerous, of course he’ll take it so anyone else does. And his legs are longer anyway so there's more room for him. These are his actual reasons, right?

Plus, a ten-minute drive would turn into a ten-hour long one in his brain if you were pressed against him. Every tiny bump on the road making you press and rub on each other for a fraction of a second. He’d probably pass out.

The most he’d touch would be with his fingertips, ever so slightly, barely there even. And only on your shoulders or the very top of your back, in case he needed to walk past you in a narrow space, or maybe get your attention silently.

And even with that, he’d be flexing his hand open and then closing it into a tight fist, nervous like a little boy. His face was absolutely neutral, though. Yes, kinda like that one Pride and Prejudice scene.

There was this one time he really messed up. Couldn’t even sleep that night. He was sitting at the table, talking to Shoko, and as he described whatever it was that he was talking about (he couldn’t remember anymore), he stretched out his arm to the side in a gesture, just as you were walking by, and accidentally brushed your thigh, close to your knee. A feather-like, quick brush.

Oh no.

He apologized deeply. Sincerely. Guilt (and shame) in his face, his voice, his whole body. You said it was okay, that it was nothing, no need to worry. All while giving him that damn sweet smile of yours. You sat down as well, joining them, and as he felt heat creep up from his stomach to his neck, he excused himself and stood up quickly, fixing his perfectly-in-place tie, so none of you would see him blushing. What if you were just being nice? What if you thought he was disrespectful? A creep? What if you didn’t like him anymore? Hated him? He was in a cold sweat, laying on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, barely blinking.

But oh boy was he touch starved. He craved for the most simple things. Anything would do it at this point. A high five. A gentle poke of your finger on his shoulder. Taking an eyelash off your cheek with his fingertip and having you blow it away for luck.

He’d been thinking of a chance to hug you. Being able to feel your soft form against him as he gets to smell your lovely perfume straight out of you, and not just having the breeze blow it towards him. Honestly that breeze was very disrespectful, forcing him to smell things he couldn’t have.

How far was Christmas? He could hug you then. Or New Years perhaps. There was also your birthday. It’s okay to hug people on their birthdays, he could do that without being weird.

There was this other time that caused him to heat up like a boiler. You fixed his tie after he finished tying it back around his neck, after a particularly intense fight against several curses at once. Technically, you didn’t touch him, you just touched his tie. But he felt your fingers lightly on his chest, just above his dress shirt. That alone was enough to have him shaking.

“There. Better.” You said, looking up at him with a soft smile.

How did you manage to look so cute even after a crazy, tiring fight, clothes covered in dust, a tiny splash of blood across your cheek? He, once again, had to hide his intense blushing, muttering a low “thank you” as he looked away, cheeks red and ears on fire. He cleared his throat, trying to see if he could get his voice to sound anything above a whisper. He was just fine after all that fight, it was you who had taken away all of his strength. Thankfully, there wasn’t much light where you were to make his obvious blush contrast against his pale skin and hair. You didn’t see it.

He started dusting off his clothes, tapping away at himself, more to get his head out of those nervous thoughts than to actually clean himself. You did the same. And then, as he finally recomposed himself enough to turn back to you, your arm reached up. Up, up, up above his jaw, his ear, to the top of his head.

“There’s something here…” you said, nonchalantly, as you brushed out something that had gotten caught in his hair.

God, why were you so touchy today?!

He just watched your movement, thanking you with a little “mm-hm” – there goes his voice again.

There was something on your hair as well. He had noticed earlier. Could he brush it away for you too? Would it be weird if he did? Was doing that being a gentleman? Well, it wouldn’t be gentlemanly of him to let you walk out with something – a tiny thing – on your hair, right?

“There’s, uh-“ He started, nervous “you have something up here, too…” he said, and then reached for it with a touch so light you didn’t even feel it. But he did. And oh my, was your hair soft.

“Thank you.” you said, cheerfully. He gave you a brief nod.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He then quickly grabbed his phone to call Ijichi so he could come pick you two up and get him away from this dangerous scenario he found himself in: you.

When Ijichi finally arrived, Nanami did what he always does, and rushed to the passenger seat. And once you were all seated and buckled up, and Ijichi started driving again, Nanami cursed himself for forgetting to open the car door for you. Where were his manners? His mother taught him better than that.

Later that night, the warmth from your fingers adjusting his tie was still lingering on his chest. He covered his face with a pillow and let out a long, “I’m such an idiot”, loud breath.

Things didn’t change much after you started dating. He had, somehow, managed to gather up the courage to ask you out (this may or may not have involved Gojo telling him he would tell you about Nanami’s crush himself, in front of everyone, very loudly). On your first date, the only touch was your goodbye kiss on his cheek, which had him giggling and kicking his feet in the air the moment you closed the door to your place and he was out of your eyesight. He smiled to himself about it all through the night until he fell asleep, heart beating quickly.

On your third date, you slipped your fingers through his as you two walked around the park, under colorful trees. When you parted ways, his hand was burning, shaking even. He considered not washing it that day.

On the fourth date, he was bold! Reaching across the table to hold your hand. That night, he took another extra step and kissed your cheek back, slipping a gentle pinch to your chin as he wished you a good night, which had you melting.

Took him a few more dates to get comfortable touching you. Now, don’t get him wrong. He wanted to do it desperately, but he didn’t know if he was more afraid of disrespecting you or just touching you at all, like a pre teen boy around his very first crush. Still, he’s a man who takes his time, and respects yours above all else.

After you’re in an established relationship though, Nanami can finally wrap himself around you, just like he’s always dreamed of. And much before Christmas too! He’ll kiss you all over when you least expect it. He’ll lay on your lap, or lay on you, as you’re resting on the couch. You never fell asleep without being in his arms again - except when he cuddles into you and you have him in your arms instead. He’ll hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder as you do something, even as you’re brushing your teeth. And don’t be surprised when he does it while you’re showering too! Walk by him whenever he’s sitting down and be sure he’s going to pull you into his lap, earning a cute little gasp from you. He holds you with so much care and love, like you’re the very reason for his breathing, but at the same time tight enough to make sure you’ll not, somehow, slip away. Like you would ever!

His kisses? Slow, tender, filled with love and affection, eyes full of adoration as he pulls away and looks into your own, gently caressing your cheek. You didn’t know you could ever meet someone with so much love in them. Nanami didn’t know he could feel so much love in him.

He’s the softest. And he’s the softest even in your most private moments, when things get particularly intense. Within the rough gripping and the clashing of teeth, you can still feel the tenderness in his touch, and the extra care in the little love bites he leaves all over your body. He may grab your neck or pull your hair, but always a bit less than you both know you can take. You’ve told him he could let go, but that’s just Nanami. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than that to you. Even if he wanted to give you that extra harsh slap that you ask him for (beg even) as you’re out of breath, his hand just… can’t. 

And you love him exactly as he is.

He’s not one for a lot of public display of affection. He likes to keep his private life private. Also, he’s a bit shy when around others. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do anything at all. Holding your hand, keeping an arm around your waist, kissing your forehead, taking your arm into his as you walk through a crowded place - he couldn’t bare accidentally getting separated from his dearest.

And don’t forget the little soft pinches on your chin, just like that one time on your fourth date. He normally sneaks those when you’re in a setting where he can’t give you a quick kiss, or, honestly, just for the fun of it, because he loves to watch you absolutely melt, cheeks growing pink and a childish smile spreading on your face. Every time. Every. time.

Sometimes he even thinks that you might be his actual heart, and this thing that is beating inside his chest is just… something else.

And when he looks at you, no matter where or when, he just knows he will never stop being so eager to touch you, however it is. How could he? You’re the love of his life, after all.

Gojo Satoru

Now, we all know Gojo is all over everybody. Always slinging his arms around other people’s shoulders and invading their personal space. Especially if it’s someone he’s fond of. Not that he doesn’t touch people he dislikes and that he knows dislike him back, just to annoy them. It’s his not-so-secret pleasure.

So yeah, he’s always all over you. Giving you attention or pouting as he begs for your attention. It becomes more and more frequent, and he doesn’t hide it. Soon it’s clear for everybody that he's crushing hard on you. The students start teasing him during class and as they cross paths at school, but he just let’s them. It’s the truth, anyway.

But if you think he’s not touch starved even though he’s constantly touching you, you’re wrong. Very wrong. He’s longing, aching for more. And it’s not sexual, no. Not that the thought hasn’t crossed his mind more than once, but it’s not it. He wants to pick you up and bury his nose on your neck. Wants to kiss you every time you do something great, and kiss you every time for no reason other than wanting to as well. Wants to hold you extra close, your body tight against his, face on his chest, as you two fall asleep together. He wants you to run your fingers through his hair as he lays on your lap after a long, exhausting day. Wants to massage your neck and shoulders when you are the one who had a long day. Once you complained about menstrual cramps and said you really wish you had a heat bag around. Well, it took everything on him to not launch himself at you and place his warm hands over your lower belly (yes, he’s an “uterUS” guy). 

When he gets to hug you, as in, when he just hugs you for no reason, he gets your scent all over him and his clothes for the rest of the day, and oh, he loves it. Find him walking around with a dumb(er) smile plastered on his face for the rest of the day. But when night comes and he’s alone at home, he begins to despise it, because you’re not there. And of course he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem by texting the guy group chat he made exclusively for talking about his crush on you. Poor Geto and Nanami (Nanami has left the group chat several times, but Gojo keeps adding him back). He even sends whiny audios. 

He doesn’t want to mess things up with you. So he’s also asked the girls around him for dating advice. Shoko quickly dismissed him with a thick puff of cigarette smoke. Mai just told him “don’t” because she thinks you deserve better. Nobara started by listing all the reasons he was not fit for having a girlfriend, but eventually started talking so much about what a guy should do and how a guy should behave that he had to start taking notes on his cellphone so he wouldn’t forget anything. Of course, when he thanked her, she made him buy her a new jacket as an actual thank you. 

And while he doesn’t come up with a date idea he’s satisfied with, he’ll have to settle with what he has for now.

And as you two get even closer, you start to get touchier too. You start by poking him around every now and then, eyes glowing with mischief when you find his ticklish spots. You lean into him as you two are looking down at the same thing. Hold onto his arm randomly, just because. Until you also start hugging him at any chance you get. And oh boy, is Gojo absolutely delighted. His hopes were more up than ever, and this was a sample of heaven. Actual heaven would be when you two finally get into a relationship. Preferably married. Geto and Nanami keep having to tell him to calm down.

Your first date wasn’t like Gojo planned. In fact, he didn’t even ask you out. But it wasn’t bad at all. 

It happened when you two found yourselves in a strangely romantic setting after fighting some grade one cursed spirits that showed up in the middle of a crowded carnival. Of course, everyone fled the place, and it was deserted, but everything was still working (except for a couple rides and tents that were destroyed during the fight). So, you and Gojo grabbed some (free!) snacks and headed to the ferris wheel, admiring the night sky together.

“This kinda feels like a date, doesn’t it?” He said after a brief moment of comfortable silence, without thinking much, and mentally facepalming at his dumb ass and big mouth. He kept his eyes glued onto the sky after this and stuffed his face with more candy.

“Do you want it to be?” You asked, chill on the outside, shaking on the inside.

Gojo looked at you so fast his neck actually hurt, eyes wide and cheeks full of candy, just like a chipmunk. He swallowed it all down with a big, kinda painful gulp.

“Well, I– I wouldn’t mind…” he answered, his heart beating so fast his chest was hurting. Or was it the candy he swallowed way too soon?

You could see his whole face turning red even under the dim light, and you held back a giggle. Seeing this big guy turn into a very tiny one so quick was adorable.

“Cool. It’s a date, then.” You said with a smile. 

It was no surprise that you two kissed on that very same night, you being as down bad for him as he was for you. Gojo was glad your eyes were shut as you kissed, this way you couldn’t see him frowning and scrunching up his nose as he tried his best not to kiss you desperately. ‘Be normal, Gojo Satoru’, he thought to himself.

Of course, he acted like his super chilled self once you parted, smiling like he wasn’t squealing like a little girl in his head.

Didn’t take long after he became your boyfriend for him to start suggesting you two should move in together. Took even less time for him to start begging for it.

“But baby, I want to cuddle with you every night, and wake up still holding you every day, and have the entire house smelling like you always, especially when you walk out of the shower. I want to sniff all that soap scent out of you. Please! I don’t want to be left with just some pictures of you when I could have real you there.” He said the last sentence with a big pout and huge puppy eyes. You had come to find his eyes could, somehow, get even bigger when he was being whiny like this.

You had also come to find that you couldn’t say no to him.

Damn that lanky man.

Oh, and by “some pictures”, don’t believe him. It was loads of pictures. There were countless pictures of your face everywhere in his house: in the living room, in the kitchen, the bedroom, the study, and even in the bathroom. Yes, he hung one there and refused to take it out. Even when you moved in. So you gave up trying to get it out of there and instead hung a picture of him by yours.

He loved it.

Although finally satisfied with how much he could touch you at any time he wanted, at night he would still wrap himself all around you, entangling his long legs with yours, elated that you were his at last. It was uncomfortable sometimes, having these bumps between you and the mattress, but getting out of his embrace wasn’t a choice. All you could do was wiggle and grunt a little until he moved his limbs into a more comfortable position for you - because he, for one, didn’t mind being uncomfortable as long as he was all around you. Holding you tight was his idea comfortable. And God, if he could become one with you he absolutely would.

Even during summer, he would turn on the AC on the lowest setting just so he could be all over you without you complaining about it being too hot. And if the house got too cold, don’t worry, he’ll heat you up with his whole body, like a personal, portable heater. Or a living blanket.

You were never cold during winter either, because at the smallest of the chills on your body, he would be there. Be it by rubbing your arms and hugging you while you were out or pulling a warm, fuzzy blanket over the two of you when you were home. Hell, he didn’t even think it was that bad when you mischievously put your ice cold feet on his back simply for the fact that that was you touching him. And your punishment for this? Being trapped tightly in his arms while he showers you with quick, loud kisses that makes the skin on your face and neck tickle. Oh, and he will sneak a kiss right on your ear, just to watch you squirm and the goosebumps on your skin, your laugh and his filling the room. 

Worried you'll crush him when you lay on top of him. Well, worry no more, really - he wants you to.

Gojo couldn’t be any happier.

And that group chat? Never forgotten. He would still constantly update the boys on everything you two did together. 

“We fought :C”

“We’re talking again!!!!”

“We went out and had swiss roll cake today ☺️”

Nanami blocked him when he got the “GUYS, IT HAPPENED! WE SPENT THE NIGHT TOGETHER” message. If there was one thing Nanami would not read it would be what Satoru Gojo did in bed with someone.

But be not afraid. Gojo would never, ever expose you like that. No. He’d pluck his eyes out and die before he did anything harmful to you. What he did was ramble on and on about how perfect it was and how happy he was and how it was everything he’d dreamed of and more.

Poor Geto (who has the patience of a saint, really) had to go through it all, reading each new message slowly, with care and fear, also afraid that Gojo could end up spilling too much in his excitement.

All Geto could say after Gojo was done talking was “I’m glad for you, Satoru 😊”, earning several lovestruck stickers from Gojo.

Since he started dating you, it never took too much to make the man happy. Just being with you, seeing you, or even just mentioning you was enough to have him glowing. 

But nothing compared to having you in his arms, safe and sound.

It did take a whole lot to get Nanami to unblock him, though.

Geto Suguru

Dear Geto’s hands are tingling, itching, burning to touch you. When he’s watching you, he unconsciously starts fidgeting with his hands, rubbing his fingers together, digging his nails into his palms, cracking his fingers, shoving them into his pockets so he can grab the fabric of his pants.

Gojo notices how Geto starts doing this more and more often, but he hasn't figured out why yet. Until the day he’s finally going to ask Geto if he’s alright, and if there’s anything going on. When he shifts his gaze from Geto’s hands to his face, he catches him stealing a look at you, not so discreet this time. He was clearly not paying attention to what Gojo was saying just seconds ago.

A smile creeps up on Gojo’s face. He thinks it’s cute, really. Seeing his best friend fall for someone. But what’s much, much better is that now he’s got an amazing reason (or should we say one more) to tease poor old Suguru nonstop.

But what Geto doesn’t realize is that he’s already touching you. All the time. You two are close friends. Have been for good a while. And he’s always respected you, obviously. You are comfortable around each other. So it kind of makes sense that he doesn’t notice when he starts doing so.

He’ll sometimes whine about being tired as the two of you are sitting down on the couch, and lay his head on your shoulder. He also does that when you show him something on your phone. If you two are standing, he’ll rest his cheek on your head.

Other times, he’ll just hook his pinkie around yours as you walk side by side. When you’re in a crowded place though, he’ll either walk behind you with his hands on your shoulder, especially if he's guiding you somewhere or you're guiding him, or sneak his arm around your waist. Depends if he’s feeling more playful or moody that day.

Oh, and speaking about waist, that’s his absolute favorite spot to hold you. He’s standing or leaning somewhere and you come by? He’ll immediately reach out for your waist and pull you close, having you rest your body against his. He’s sitting down and you’re standing? There comes that arm firmly pulling you to him, thumb gently rubbing your side.

The latter had you start to (also subconsciously) do something similar: if you’re sitting and he stops by your side, you’ll give his pants a gentle tug to get him to stand closer so you can rest your head on his hip. And no one is surprised when, after a while, Geto’s hand goes from resting on your shoulder to caressing your head.

Oh, don’t forget the amazing bear hugs he’ll give you all of a sudden, making you gasp in surprise and then start to giggle as you hug him back, wonderfully nestled into him.

He doesn’t even have to look before reaching for you anymore. He’s memorized all the bits of you at this point. He would think it’s ridiculous, hadn’t he been so oblivious to his own actions.

And you enjoy it all, leaning into him and basking in the warmth and peace that radiate from him. Because you like him just as much as he likes you. You just don’t know it yet.

Gojo noticed this not too long after noticing Geto’s feelings for you. He actually realizes you like Geto much before you do.  And he’s perplexed by it all. How can the two of you be so oblivious about it?! He’s so perplexed he doesn’t even tease as much as he normally would, too invested into watching the two of you being absolutely clueless around each other. Eventually he starts talking about it with Shoko, and they obviously make a bet on who’s going to confess first.

Geto also finds himself growing jealous and rather possessive of you (in a normal way, not in a toxic, creepy way). If looks could kill, so many people would’ve spontaneously combusted by now, just from the glare he sends anyone that stands too close or gets too funny around you. Especially that one friend of yours who’s way too comfortable with you. He’ll watch from a distance until his patience is entirely over, and then immediately make his way to you, arm glued to your waist before he’s even stopped walking, a fake ass smile on his face as he says something like “what are you two talking about?” or “what’s up, honeycomb?”. Or, to that friend he’s seen more times than he’d like, “I’m sorry, have we met before?”. He’ll even add an “Are you sure? I think I would remember you if we did” when he’s feeling extra spicy.

And still Geto Suguru’s hands are aching for you, for how touch starved he is. And he’s still fidgeting with them the moment he lays eyes on you.

Then, after far too many weeks of suffering - and finally telling his bestie about his crush - he’ll whine to Gojo about being so desperate for anything from you. About how glad he would be if he could at least hold your hand or have just one little touch from you. And he’s still mid mental breakdown speech when Gojo interrupts him with a 

“Bro, are you serious right now?”

And when he doesn’t understand Gojo’s question, the white-haired man has to tell him all that he's been watching for the past few months.

“You two just haven’t fucked at this point. Or have. But I really don’t wanna know.” Gojo shudders at the thought. “What I’m saying is, we all thought it was cute and funny in the beginning, but now it’s becoming almost painful to watch. Shoko and I are nearly giving up our bet. Nanami’s considering moving to the countryside sooner.”

And the ridiculous look that Geto has on his face, speechless, mouth dropped to a perfect shocked “O” after hearing it all, is priceless. Gojo is dying to pull out his phone and take a picture of him, but he’s not in the mood to get beat up at the moment (he got his hair cut today, ok?).

But Shoko, being the icon she is and having just entered the room after hearing her name, captures the moment perfectly, making the picture their groupchat’s icon right away.

Geto’s mostly silent for the rest of the day, processing the information. It was all so simple, so natural to be that close to you that he didn’t realize he was already all over you. He’s stunned. At himself, mostly, more than the situation as a whole. How did he not notice? Geto Suguru, who’s always so aware of himself, his every thought and every move (no wonder everyone thinks he’s so gracious, even when he’s sitting with his legs spread open).

He starts getting anxious that night soon after going to bed. What if he had gone too far? Invaded your personal space? What if you were secretly hating it, disgusted and uncomfortable, but couldn’t find a way out of this situation. He knows you can defend yourself damn well, but if that had messed you up mentally, things aren’t as easy and simple as kicking him in the balls.

But then you would’ve made something at this point, right? Avoid him and distance yourself. Plus, you’re close friends with Gojo as well, you would’ve said something or asked him for help if that was the case.

Also, Gojo may be stupid, but he’s not that stupid. And he’s got good eyes. He knows you well. If he says you like him too, the chances of that not being true are very low.

That calms him down… A little.

He decides that he’s got to think of something. Do something. If not ask you out, at least talk to you. Make things clear. And apologize if he has to. 

And then he, once again, unconsciously slips into daydreaming about a scenario where luck is on his side, and instead of laying down on his own to go to sleep as he is right now, he’ll be able to fall asleep with his arms practically tied around you, his nose shoved against your head so he can intoxicate himself with that delicious smell of your shampoo. He thinks falling asleep due to low oxygen because of doing so is a great way to fall asleep.

As you become significant others, he’s still doing all that he used to do (and much more, of course), but in a deeper way.

He’ll lay his head on your shoulder and loop his arm around yours. He’ll fully hold your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand is firm against your hip, holding you close to him. When he pulls you close as you’re standing and he’s sitting, he’ll loop his arms around your leg and hold your thigh, or both your thighs, as he rests his head on your side. Or he might pull you to his lap, nonchalantly. Who knows? 

Those bear hugs? Expect loads of them. Surprise or not. And now he’s also picking you up and showering you with kisses. He falls in love even harder when you get all giddy when he spins you around.

And his favorite, the arm around your waist as you two stand there. Now both his arms are around you, tighter than ever, obviously possessive even though he (again) doesn’t realize how possessive he looks when he does that. Especially when he’s leaning against something and his leg is slipping between yours, your hips tight against him, and he’s resting his chin on you (he doesn’t know why, but this one is heaven to him).

He’s so about touching you and feeling you, that when you’re in bed together, he doesn’t see the point of using something else to tie you up when he can just hold you in a position himself. He’ll use his own body and weight to keep you down, or, if he can’t hold you as he’d like (he only has two hands, unfortunately) he’ll command that you hold yourself in place so can use his hands to hold wherever else he’s got his mind on. You obey, obviously, mischievous or desperate, depending on how fucked up you already are at that point.

Aftercare? Showering you (he’ll clean you up in bed if your legs are too wobbly) and massaging your whole body, of course. He’ll kiss your body, following his hands, as he goes on, whispering sweet nothings. Then, he’ll pull you against his chest, wrapping both arms around you, so you can fall asleep listening to the always-calm, steady thud of his heartbeat. You’re both still naked, skin on skin, to be able to be as close to each other as humanly possible. He’s the happiest man on Earth.

He’s not shy of kissing you in public, either. From a peck to an open mouthed kiss, he’ll do it all. You’re the one growing red all over, actually. Having to push against his chest so he’ll pull away, especially when he’s going at it for too long.

“Oh, let them watch.” he murmurs as you point that everyone’s looking, your eyes darting everywhere in embarrassment “They’re either happy for us or straight up jealous” He says with those beautiful eyes of his staring so deeply into yours that you swear he can see your soul. “I’ve got the prettiest little thing there is anyway. All mine.” He holds your chin and kisses you one last time. He’s a teaser, but he respects it every time you ask him to stop.

Another thing he’s come to love is having you brush his hair, whether it’s in the morning or after naptime. Or at some random moment, just because he wants to feel you gently brushing it. And his favorite is after washing his hair. He’ll grab his hair products and comb and rush to you, closing his eyes as you gently untangle his hair and the delicate, flowery smell of the products fill the room. You always end it with an “all done, baby!” and a kiss to his forehead, and he thanks you looking up at you with loving eyes, following with a kiss on your lips. He wouldn’t trade moments like this for nothing in the world.

He loves you. And he loves loving you. And he adores holding you however it is.And even after all this time, his hands still itch, still tingle, still burn, and still get all fidgety every time he looks across the room and his eyes find you.

P.S.: Might write a part 2 of this for more characters once I get more comfortable with writing them, like Ino, Choso and Higuruma!

Divider by @uzmacchiato

[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[tcustodisart]

Whenever I drew Connie with a single dandelion behind his ear this scene was playing in my head like wii channel music.

[thethirdromana]

This is probably not a very original observation, but I love how Andor and Rogue One in combination reframe A New Hope so it's crystal clear that the Empire sowed the seeds of its own destruction.

In Andor, the rebellion is sparse and directionless. It's no threat to the Empire at the start. It becomes a threat because of the actions that the Empire takes in order to build the Death Star - in particular, the Ghorman Massacre. Even in Rogue One, the Rebellion teeters on the edge of giving up. But the "tests" of the Death Star on Jedha and Alderaan help to change that. At that point, the evil of the Empire becomes undeniable.

And all of that was completely avoidable. There's never any clear reason why the Empire needs a planet-killing superweapon. They're not currently at war and they won the last war that they fought. There is the threat of rebellion, but planet-killing superweapons are useless against an insurgency. With a slower, more cautious consolidation of imperial power, the Empire might have been unstoppable.

But Palpatine wanted to be able to destroy planets, and so he helped to destroy himself.

[beastwhimsy]

guy who struggles with insecurities about his 100% normal body meets wizard with one million unusual exes

[lightnersdream-archive]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[a-glow-in-the-snow]

[Something something Soul and time loops.]

[Song is "Half The Glass" by Allenimations]

[raycatzdraws]

Wind and Spirit have a bad time in the Sacred Realm!

It's my Spirit Tracks x LU fic / concept / thing! There are a couple written scenes which can be read on AO3! This is one of them and can be read [here!]. I don't see myself continuing this project, but even so, I want to say some thank yous (under the read more)!

The animatic has no audio, but if it did, it would be Robot Soldiers from Castle in the Sky.

---

The project isn't something I think I'll be finishing, but that said, it's been fun to work on.

I know it's just a silly unfinished fic and some art and maybe I'll come back to it, however, I am just a little guy with so much gratitude! It meant so much to me to be so welcomed by the LU fandom when I initially posted that Spirit Tracks LU art compilation in 2021. (this one!) The art and fic couldn't have been made without the incredible art, writing, support, and headcanon brainstorming from the people around me and the inspiration I found in their works and ideas.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kind tags!

Thank you to @esthelle-wanders for the excited comments and support over the years.

Thank you to @snowylynxx for her Spirit Tracks LU comics which gave me so much motivation and whose Spirit design I've been borrowing.

To @theegh0st. I adore your art! A frame from the pump trolley animation has been your header for so long and it's so fun to see it when visiting your blog. It's been an honor!

And thank you so much to Wicked (@spirit-tracks) and Train (@fuckit-hero-of-trains) for 1) being unhinged in the best possible way about Spirit Tracks and 2) for your incredible writing <3

If you like Spirit in LU fics, then I really recommend Keeping Track of the Little Things by wickedcriminal. Wicked started a headcanon post about Spirit [here], it got picked up and added to, I made some art, and Wicked made a fic. Spirit worrying about his place in the group and stressing about time management is a headcanon I'm fond of. Worrying about schedules is something Time can probably relate on, and so it's something I wanted to include for them to connect over in a moment of downtime. Though the setting and stakes are different, Wicked has already written something similar to how I imagine the scene would play out, and it's absolutely wonderful.

!!! The project meant so much at the time! Some of the work I did on the lore is so cool!!! There's a bit of lore about the Triforce that was given in OoT which we hadn't seen happen in a game, but that I wanted for the Spirit Tracks fic, so I plotted it out. So then (spoilers for Echoes of Wisdom) to see it in Echoes was really cool!!!! It was really validating that, yeah I read that right and executed it how it was meant to! >:) There's other stuff too, but anyways aaaa

I just don't see myself completing it, though. It feels kind of bad to give it away but I also need to be free of it. It's been nearly four years... which is wild!

Thank you again for reading and for the support and enthusiasm up to now. It means a lot to know there were people invested in a story I made. It's small and fragmented, but still. Thank you.

(maybe maybe maybe I'll draw a couple more scenes as I have been, but for the fic, I am releasing writing while also saying it's going to be unfinished and discontinued asjdsahdgs sorry 'xD is that a thing people can do? I think the scenes are cool! That's just,,, all I'm able to write I think. Can people post just- isolated scenes? ,,,, That's definitely a thing. I still felt like I should say something. ANYWAYS <3 See ya!)