#I'll likely make a follow up to this at one point

[sentientcave]

Swallow My Pride

Simon spots you across the bar. You're a long way from the little girl that used to torment him in primary, but that's alright. These days he's got a soft spot for beautiful men.

Contains: FtM!Reader, Reader bullied Simon in primary school, alcohol/bar mention, smoking, oral sex (Simon receiving), Reader has hair long enough to pull a little, Implied fibre arts, abrupt ending because I wasn't gonna get into all that. Maybe later.

1.1k ~ MDNI ~ 18+

It figured that you'd be gorgeous now.

He almost didn't recognize you. Probably would have missed you entirely if not for the long, searching glance you'd given him, like he was familiar too. Back then you were a skinny, mouthy little bitch that made his life miserable until you moved away, and now you were a handsome, self-assured man, filled out strong and a little soft. Standing with your friends, laughing. They obviously didn't know that you were a venomous little viper under that easy smile and oversized, hand-knit sweater with wonky cables on the front.

The lads noticed his silence and singular focus. Johnny started acting up some, like he always did when Simon paid too much attention to another man.

"Y'gonna talk to the pretty boy?" he asked, exasperated. "Or jest leer at'm all night?"

"If you don't, I might," Gaz said. "It's cold out these days and he looks like he's comfortable to have a lie in with."

"Fine. I'll talk to 'im." Simon stood and shouldered his way over to you, cutting a swathe through the crowd of people lingering by the bar, and put a big hand on your shoulder. "Wanna talk t'you," he rumbled. "Follow me."

"Hey, what the fuck," one of your friends said hotly. "Don't be rude."

Simon glared at her, ready to snap, but you quickly put yourself between. "It's okay. I know him."

Simon steered you outside and shoved you up against the wall. "Recognize me, do you?"

"Of course. Thought you were dead, though. Saw you here a couple months back. Kept coming back, thinking I had to be nuts." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm surprised you recognize me."

"Maybe I wouldn't've, if I'd ever seen you as a woman. But we were kids. You've changed, but I know you."

You had been the worst thing in his life, outside of his home. Quick to point out his hand-me-downs and his shaggy hair, to knock things out of his hands. If you’d been a boy back then, he would have just punched your lights out, but even then he knew better than to hit a girl. You were fair game for a fight now, as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t really that interested in fighting. Especially when you were giving him that kicked puppy stare, regret written all over your face.

Regret was a powerful motivator, and he liked the idea of you trying to make it right. He liked the idea of seeing what he could get out of it too.

"I never got to apologize. When I heard-- Fuck, you've been through it. Apologies don't seem like enough." You look at him, big eyes and soft mouth. So fucking pretty.

"It's not enough. Don't want to 'ear it anyway. Want to make it up to me?" He waits for your nod, then reaches for his belt. "Suck me off. Right 'ere."

You look stunned for a moment. He expected to to stalk off back inside-- He didn't really want an apology, didn't think there was any making up for it, not really. Just wanted to push your buttons a bit, more than anything else.

But you dropped to your knees on the dirty ground, and waited, patient as a well trained dog. "Good boy," Simon grunted, pulling out his cock. He liked the way your big eyes got bigger, a gleam of want in them. You'd grown up to be a proper slag. He slapped his cock against your cheek, and you turned to catch it, sliding your lips and tongue along the side.

"This why you 'ad t'be such a cunt back then?" he asked, grabbing your hair to keep you from sinking your mouth down onto his cock. "Wanted me so bad an' couldn't say so?"

You glare at him from the ground. "Do you want the apology or the head, Riley?"

"Makin' me choose, are you?" He let go of your hair, however, his laugh turning to a groan as you sucked the head of his cock into your hot mouth, tongue lapping at his slit to taste the bead of bitter precum.

He was going to be more of a dick about it, but he couldn't get a word in. You worked his cock like you were made for it, working your hand over the shaft when you lapped at the tip, swallowing around him when you sank all the way down, taking him into your throat, bobbing your head back and forth, spit dribbling down your chin and his balls, messy, like you knew that was just how he liked it.

He managed to communicate that he was going to cum, enough that you let him pop free and pump his come onto your waiting tongue, purposely missing a little, his come glistening on your cheek and caught just slightly in your hair. You swallow, grimacing slightly at the taste.

"You ever eat anythin' that has a lick of nutritional value?" you gripe, using your fingers to scrape his come off your cheek and into your mouth anyway.

"Get your trousers off an' I'll eat your cunt," he offered, groaning again when you sucked him into your mouth again, cleaning off the mess. "If y’still ‘ave one. Christ. I'm takin' you 'ome either way." He lit a cigarette, glancing at the door when it pushed open, ready to bark, relaxing when he realized it was just Soap and Gaz. "Hey, lads."

You side eyed them, but you finished your job first, sitting back on your heels and wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Simon tucked himself away again. Gaz and Soap stood there, gaping like fish until you stood up.

"That's gotta be a record," Gaz said. "You haven't been gone ten minutes."

"Well, pretty boy knows what 'e likes." Simon dropped a hand on top of your head and pulled you close to his side before you could duck out of the conversation. "Don't go, pup. Figure you owe the lads an apology too. You're the reason I'm so mean, and they've 'ad t'deal with it all this time." He slid his hand down the side of your face and hooked his fingers into your mouth roughly. "What d'you think?"

You look at the other two. Gaz was trying to look nonplussed as he lit his cigarette, but there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eyes. Soap wasn't even bothering to be subtle. He looked you up and down, palming himself through his jeans.

You shove Simon's hand out of your mouth, grinning. "Oh, he's been real mean, has he?"

Soap stepped in closer, his fingers hooking into your pocket to reel himself in next to you. "He's been a nightmare. Yeh gonna make up for it?"

"Can try. Riley's always been pretty determined t'be a cunt though. It's not all my fault."

“Need to say goodbye to your friends?” Gaz asked.

“Nah. It was a date. Didn’t really like them anyway. Felt like they were just looking for a compromise between addin’ a man or a woman to their failing marriage. Not really keen to get into all that. This sounds more fun.”

Simon chuckled. “Good choice, pup. Let’s get goin’.”

I've been rotating this thought in my mind since I read this fic by @/soapcloth about Soap being Reader's childhood bully. Read that, and then all the other stuff they've posted because there's some very fun stuff and I highly recommend their work.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[gnohomotho]

heyyy this is really specific and kinda silly buuuuut I'm really sick and feeling down.. could I request some Inho fluff? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

maybe some like ~caring for you~ & looking after you with a femreader? 👀😍 thank youuuuu and love your fics!!

Aw, Anon, I'm sorry you're feeling awful. :c Please have some kind In-ho fluffy TLC (I hope that still stands for "tender loving care").

Focused on the love and care! ♥♥♥

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I'll Look After You

Pairing: Hwang In-ho // The Front Man x wife!fem!reader Summary: As the prompt says. ♥ But you aren't feeling well at all, and your husband, through anything from tea, to baths, to a massage, is going to keep the sickness away. Warnings: None at all. Just fluff. So much fluff. Word count: 2.4

If you like my works, I truly appreciate every like // reblog // follow! <3

A little stir in in the night.

As if you were having a bad dream. Without you knowing, In-ho’s eyes open in a fleeting second, the man doesn’t seem to sleep – only wait with hands intertwined laid across his chest as his breathing gets more level. You’ve tried to catch him several times, being ever-so-quiet, barely shifting the blanket – just to see him dreaming or peacefully at rest, yet that man could sense a spider’s step at the other end of the building and react accordingly.

But this time, you sat up, abruptly, after many tries at keeping your state to yourself and forcing a mental hammer to your temples just to remain at least half asleep. Your breath was fast, your head pounding, you put one hand against your face with a sigh.

“My heart?”

You hear a quiet, yet very alert voice next to you. The covers shift, and he is sitting upright next to you, in the exact same position as you are, seemingly immediately. Dark eyes fixed on you even in the semi-dark wherein you blink to adjust. You can make out your husband’s unassuming form, sitting in the comforting, quiet stillness; so very bare, so very…endearing.

Before you say anything, an arm is softly wrapping around you and pulling you closer. In-ho seemed at war with every millimetre of distance between you, especially in the night. Even in his stoic sleeping position, heaven help the blanket that got between your skin and his.

“I’m sorry, I just…I don’t feel too good. I didn’t wish to wake you, darling, truly. It’s probably nothing.”

You smile at him and your head pounds. The naked arm around your waist, forearm against the cold skin of your stomach and his hand firmly rested against you with fingers outstretched, remains in place. You feel a slight tightening of his grip, though it is protective, rather than forceful. His other hand moves to your chest with utmost care. It is a slow, noticeable movement – In-ho was purposefully showing you what he’s doing so that you don’t get stressed nor surprised.

The gesture melts your shivering heart a tad – that was always a point of contention between you two.

Using his dominant arm to half let you, half force you to rest against him and be upheld in place, In-ho was now free to assess. Somehow, your breath felt more at ease each time your chest bumped into his steady hand. You relax a little, glad for the support. Even in the darkness, his skin smells so familiar and safe, his almost naked body still exuding quiet authority, yet his arms and his…entirety shared with you…is so very human.

It’s just…your In-ho. No dark fabric or twisted words to cloud the very human skin now firmly rested against you. Even your legs are connected as he sits beside you.

At war with every molecule that would linger between you.

“Your heart rate is elevated, your breathing is…laboured.”

“In-ho, I feel fine just---”

“Don’t talk,” he humms, rubbing the top of your chest as he speaks, resting a palm against your sternum and across the nape of your neck, where his hand remains, “I can feel it must hurt to do so,” he adds, in a softer tone. You only shoot him a look in the darkness, knowing he is likely wearing that same caring, troubled, yet serene expression he always does when he is slightly worried or being obtuse.

In-ho moves to check further, resting a hand upon your pulsating head, cupping your cheek then resting a palm on your forehead.

“You’re burning up, my dear.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and you pull away, only to be caught by the arm around your waist and pulled back. There better not be a raised eyebrow in the dark, In-ho.

“If I’m running a fever, I don’t want you to get sick, I should get away from you immediately---”

“Oh, no.” A soft murmur and kiss on your shoulder. A brush of hair upon your skin underlines the gentleness of his lips.

“Oh, no. No. No.” With each “no” there is another kiss. Soft. Calm. Reassuring. So very gentle.

Eyes adjusting to the dark, you can make him out in the contrast and those eyes, almost unblinking, focusing their entirety on you with such…restrained tenderness.

Were you not feeling this way, you’d slowly move into his arms and hold him, hear his heartbeat and let him run his fingers through your hair as you rested against his chest. You valued the closeness, the intimacy, the still careful yet true love you felt for him, and he, in his unspoken way, in the way he nudged your bodies to connect to become one, the way he unwittingly wrapped around you, the way he would rest you in the crane of his neck or under his chin whispering things no one would believe him to say, could express more than words ever could.

And you knew the feeling of your sleepy head and soft strands of hair resting on his skin calmed him down, though he would never admit it. You knew by the way his breathing always seemed to slow and grow calm, letting his chest lift more rhythmically; by the way his fingers drew small ellipses through your hair, and by the way he twitched and immediately tightened his arm around you from shoulder wherein you rested all the way down to his wrist, should you try to even remotely adjust your position.

Now he was looking directly at you, any remains of sleep firmly gone from his voice.

“After securing Y/N within this exact position. Into this exact place. After so very long and after such effort – I am to simply let my wife walk away? When she is feeling ill, no less?”

You really aren’t in the mood for this In-ho. Perhaps the one who is busy with other matters and returns when you are feeling healthy again. That In-ho. That In-ho doesn’t exist, and you know it. You sigh, but there is an understanding smile lurking behind the breath.

“…In the middle of night? On the day of my daughter’s wedding? While I’m still holding my keys?” Your sarcastic yet sweet attempts to soften the blow did not work as intended, though you did hear a small chuckle. No, you just get yourself wrapped up in a blanket before you realise his arm is gone (the man really has surprising talent in the oddest of places) and a kiss on the forehead solidifies the deal you didn’t even get a chance to bargain about.

“Stay here,” he humms as he begins to get out of bed, smoothing the blanket behind him.

“Because I’m obviously going places, so very free to spread my wings.”

“Oh, my heart.” He looks at you with such adoration, head slightly leaning to one side. You’re not sure if he’s still playing or simply letting his guard down so very far. You allow yourself to smile into the darkness, closing your eyes. The tiredness and feeling of weakness draw your heavy head into the pillow and you drift off.

A small click beside your head stirs you half awake.

“In-ho?” You mumble and get ready to get up, forgetting your blanket enclosure.

“Shh. Don’t talk.”

In-ho gently caresses you through the blanket, then slides his hand inside, cupping your warmth for a while. He then softly takes your arm out and slides his fingers over yours, intertwining them with his, then closing his hand over your palm.

“Tea with medicine to your left, sweetheart.”

You’re very thankful and begin to say so, before a single look into those dark eyes firmly reminds you of the previous suggestion. Perhaps you don’t need the medicine after all, the fever will go down if he throws more ice in that stoic expression your way.

You lift the arm out of his grip, which he allows as patiently as he does slowly, and you lift the hot cup to your lips. It quivers in your grip, and he immediately steadies it, catching your hand on the hot surface.

“Drink.”

“In-ho, I can manage---

“Drink.”

There are times you forget who really rests beside you, and the nonchalant yet firm suggestion does its due diligence to remind you. You lift the cup to your lips and drink the comforting tea, with In-ho guiding the empty cup back to the bedstand with your hand in tow. He then slowly guides it back, still intertwined with his, and holds it to himself, massaging your palm with both his hands.

“I’m drawing you a bath,” he states, simply, and you know it’s going to be full of herbs and means of making you better, the towels as soft as snow, the floor warm. In-ho did not relish words, as they could be misconstrued and twisted, sounding flimsy and signifying nothing – but his actions could speak sonnets.

You sit up a bit, able to see him far better now – your In-ho, now only half naked, eyes calm yet piercing, mouth harbouring a small unnoticeable smile, demeanour calm yet alert. His shoulders ostensibly fall as you look longer, as if he’s trying to calm you down by looking calmer himself. Softly reaching a hand across your shoulders, he pulls your hair away from your neck and lets it rest across your chest to one side. His fingers trail around your neck at the very same time, as if he could not miss an opportunity for a caress and reassuring touch.

“Turn around, darling.”

And you do, still very much woozy. In-ho, now with your back to him, removes the rest of your hair from the nape of your neck and plants a tender kiss just between the bottom of your head and beginning of your shoulders.

“Dear, you’re tense.”

As he says so, you feel an arm softly pull at the blanket, brushing it against the skin of your upper arms and down, down, until it is resting against your forearms and around your waist. A shiver runs through you, trembling all in its wake like a small wave of ice. In-ho immediately catches it with both deliberate hands – firmly rubbing your shoulders and laying his chest against your back. The naked, hot skin, the rubbing motion creating heat, and the mere fact that it is him does help warm you a little, though he makes a mental note to adjust the heating once your attention is elsewhere.

Soft, intricate, yet firm hands, like those of a piano player, begin to move upwards and massage your neck, moving to the muscles around the very top of your spine. Circling, rubbing, and kneading all under their touch.

After a little while, they move to your shoulders. As if he was going through mounds and ossified waves of stress, heaviness, worry, sickness – and simply letting them dissolve in his fingers and slip through, leaving you be.

A grateful, alleviated sigh leaves your lips – and In-ho can hear the wide, if tired, smile upon them, kissing the sensitive place between your shoulder blades in response and remaining there for just a second longer than necessary. How does heat emanate from a single kiss and how does it cover your quivering body in the equivalent of warm honey from cold tip of the toe to the very place he kissed and up?

Once In-ho has touched, cherished, and unwrapped all of your upper body muscles from their layers of blocked pain and distress, he turns you around and lays you back down, laying with you. His arm is around your shoulders nudging your neck in its crane, his head is so close to yours you could kiss the tip of his nose, your bodies are as close as they can be without intertwining. Your eyes are softly closing on their own, feeling so blissfully tired and calm, as if a weight was lifted from every centimetre of your body. In-ho can see it, and watches it with very masked delight – your trust, your bliss, your comfort…your tranquillity in his arms.

Your peacefulness and loving eyes now closing in a slow, restful motion and a body at such ease that time seems to slip slower around the both of you – all under his watch, under his body, under his direct action and control. He slips errant strands of hair from your face, kissing your cheek where they rested. You smile into the kiss, eyes closing, and nudge your forehead against his. You remain like that, for a few seconds, just enjoying the closeness and the open pathways of your body that melted under his touch. His forehead does an ever-so-slight, almost unnoticeable side to side motion, and you cannot help but smile wide at the hidden adoration the man holds for you.

“I think your bath is almost ready,” a soft rumble from his enters your chest as he speaks, softly, into you more than to you, “but I find it hard to let you go.” As if to underline the words, In-ho’s leg nudges towards yours, caressing you through the blanket.

“Would you mind company?”

Now it was your turn to lift both eyebrows and attempt to disconnect from him just enough to be audible.

“I’m not sure.” You lower your head slightly to kiss his neck, an advantage you’ve learned to use every time he places you in such a loving yet firm embrace.

“Will the company be half as sweet as the company I hold now?” The hint of innocence and genuinely curious inflection did stir something in your companion, and you felt the grip tighten – then turn into a caress.

“Oh, I’ll make sure to leave them thoroughly yearning to wish they were.”

In-ho was a man of truly odd hidden talents. At one moment, you were wrapped up like a labyrinth of blankets, limbs, and kisses – the next, you were somehow firmly in his lifted embrace, holding onto his neck and shoulders with each arm, while his arms held you under your knees (which you instinctively squeezed half for stability, half for the snuggle) and around your back under your arms, making ample use of the space created by you having to cling upwards.

You blink, and without looking around, nestle in the small of his neck, laying your head in the comforting warmth as he adjusts you to himself with one motion and smiles into your hair. With another kiss, he carries you to the bath...

And does not leave.

[separatetheyolk]

could you do a poly!landoscar x male!reader of aftercare with doms!oscar and lando? i read the lewis one and it was so good

This Side Of Paradise Poly!Landoscar X M!Reader

featuring: Lando norris & Oscar Piastri

Landoscar aftercare

warnings: 18+, mentions of smut but nothing too explicit mainly just in passing

note: Just a small one to get me back into writing. Sorry this took a while, I had cold after cold then spontaneous moved house lol. Still working on Charles and Carlos aftercares but this ask came through and I just had to finish this one. I haven't proof read this very well past the point of making sure it all makes sense so there will probably be quite a few spelling mistakes that I've missed. As with all my M!Reader posts this can be read as a trans!reader too, trans masc too but there is he/him pronouns and shit like 'boyfriend' used to refer to reader.

word count: 1077

requests are open!

Your head was pulled back from a cock before you had a chance to realise your breathing was growing increasingly difficult. “Okay, okay baby hey-” You heard, sounding somewhat distant. Far off despite feeling the breath run behind your ear and down your neck. It was quite disorientating in all honestly. “Okay.. baby, I need you to breathe.” You whimpered quietly as you were flipped round from your front to your back. Rearranged so you were set onto the middle of the bed and your head resting in someone's lap as they worked to undo the blindfold. “Come on.. That's it deep breaths.”

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust but once they had, you were met with an extremely concerned Lando. “Hey gorgeous..” You heard as Lando brushed hair from your eyes, but his lips weren't moving. Leading you to believe it was Oscar that was doing the talking. “Bit too much or you, hmm?” He spoke, watching you lift your head to look to him. His gaze meeting your own.

“I can take it..” You insisted. Wincing from just how harsh your voice sounded, moving to sit up but a tanned hand on your chest prevented you from moving any further. You couldn't help but let a frustrated whine slip past your lips.

“Baby, you don't have to.. This isn't some game where you have to prove yourself.. You've done more than enough for us. Just lie back and relax. We’ll take care of the rest.” Lando insisted, giving you a stern look that held no room for retaliation. You decided it didn't suit him at all. 

“Just relax, hmm?” This time Oscar spoke, hand resting on your shoulder and directing you to a free spot on the bed beside the driver. You couldn't argue.. The bed did look pretty inviting. So, albeit reluctantly, you moved to the spot and allowed Oscar to pull the blankets over your body. Closing your eyes, you felt the weight on the mattress shift as both men stood. Followed by the sound of a dresser drawer opening, then the rustling of clothes. A few minutes later and the weight of one of them was back beside you. “C’mere, gorgeous..”

You opened your eyes to find Oscar back beside you. Now dressed in some clean boxers. You moved over to him, allowing him to guide you so you were set between his legs, arms wrapping around one of his thighs like it was a pillow or large teddy bear and set your head in the crook where said thigh joined his hip. “There we go.. comfy?” He asked. And all you could manage was a nod as eyes closed again.

You didn't notice Lando watching the two of you from the other side of the room until you heard the others footsteps as he made his way over. You heard the two men share a gentle kiss, hand running through your hair to show you some affection too. “I take it you're too tired for a bath, hmm?” Lando asked you, looking down to you as you nodded your head. Your eyes remaining closed. “Alright.. You just stay here. I'll be right back.”

And, like before, the other left your side. A sinking feeling began to set in with guilt accompiening it. “M’ sorry..” You whispered after a beat of silence.

“What for, baby?” Oscar asked, accent thick and a strong difference compared to Lando’s. “You’ve done nothing wrong..”

“Ending the session early.. I wanted to do more for you..” You whispered, feeling like you'd left the two neglected. All this moving from track to track, it made it hard for the three of you to find time in Oscar and Lando’s busy schedules. When Winter break came around it often felt like a whole new paradise. And you wanted to make up for lost time.

Oscar chuckled slightly, moving so you were no longer in between his legs and shuffled to join you lying down. “You were perfect.. In every way. It's a lot to take two at once. Not to mention you haven’t done it in a while. But you still took us both perfectly. Besides, we were at it for hours baby.”

“But I-”

“But nothing, pretty boy.. You were perfect. Done so good for us..”

You couldn’t help but turn your face into the palm that was running through your hair. You didn’t nod in agreement but you also didn’t shake your head. So Oscar took that as a very small win. A few moments later, you felt Lando’s presence enter the room again, confirmed as a hand ran up and down your arm, small kisses soon being pressed to the back of your neck. “Can you sit up for a minute, baby?” Lando mumbled, feeling you nod slowly.

With help from both men, you were moved to an upright position, looking down to see baby wipes and a damp cloth set on the bed. Embarrassment washed over you as the two of them began wiping you down, baby wipes to get rid of most of the grime, cloth following closely behind. They almost seemed to sense the embarrassment. How you wanted to curl up into yourself, feeling as hands ran over your skin, massaging muscles and kisses pressed wherever the two of them could reach. Trying to get you to relax. A bath or preferably a shower if you could stand would be a must in the morning, but right now this would do.

Once you were wiped down, Lando helped to get you into one of his shirts while Oscar stripped the bed and took the sheets downstairs and to the wash room. While down there, he decided to make a quick detour to grab the trio a bottle of water each. By the time he’d came back to the bedroom, Lando had threw away used condoms, had set on some clean bedding and gotten you settled into bed.

He handed Lando two bottles of water once he’d gotten under the covers. The British man uncapping yours and carefully handing it over. Oscar slipped into bed on your right, letting you get comfy again as you lent into Lando’s side. Oscar then leaning into yours. “You get some sleep, baby..” you heard from Lando, though your eyes already half shut and the hold on the bottle loosening. You felt as the bottle was removed from your hand, the bedside lamp turned off.

[fieldsparrowstudio]

hey thanks for all the new followers from this piece! I thought it'd be neat to share a bit of my process on this one.

A lot of my work is for the music industry, and this piece was originally for a local festival that unfortunately got cancelled. The venue for the festival had a vintage furniture shop inside of it, and that kinda inspired me to look into older music players. I've always thought reel to reels looked really cool, and the wood grain on a lot of the retro ones made me want to include some woodpeckers, and the rest just kinda came together.

This is the original thumbnail and then a cleaned up digital sketch. Usually I sketch everything traditionally but I wanted to try out the perspective tool in Clip Studio for the first time. From here, I printed out the line art of my digital sketch onto some transparency film so I could use carbon paper to transfer over the sketch onto Clayboard to ink the piece.

If you're not familiar with clay board it's basically a thick illustration board that allows you to gently scrape off layers of clay to revel white underneath your ink work. I don't use it for every project but I really love the line quality you get with it.

From there, I'll scan back in the finished ink drawing to color it inside Photoshop. The colored digital file is what the original post is. While I'm coloring the piece, I'm using individual layers for each color and trapping them as I go to make the final screen print come together easier.

This is the actual final piece, a 4 color screen print on off white card stock. At some point, I want to dedicate a post to how each layer interacts with each other, in this piece the red is printed on top of the brown to create a dark red in the leaves. This print sold out last holiday season and I'm hoping to have it restocked sometime this spring.

Anyways, thanks again for checking out my work. I hope this is formatted ok, I haven't written a tumblr post in like a decade. Ok bye

"waiting for the jets to land"

ink on clay board, digital color, and then screen printed.

[daylighted]

the girl behind the wheel . . . dean winchester & reader !

summary. the last thing dean expected was for his car to disappear & in its place, you to be left. he also never expected to have to worry, still, about you getting stolen. warnings. men r pigs!! sequel to this ask !

it's not like you asked to be made into a human or anything. dean seemed to operate on that idea, though, that this was all your choice. he looked at you with pure grief in his eyes, and something that seemed much more akin to exasperation than the unwilling reluctance you thought he was beginning to fall into.

"i have to get a new car." he's openly, dramatically, pouting.

you shrug. his jacket has now become your jacket, because shoplifting clothes for you meant snatching the cheap shit in the back of the store that people wouldn't realize were missing until it was too late, which left you in summery clothes in the dead of winter.

"that's all you have to say for yourself?"

dean is looking at you with that quizzical stare he gets, like he expects you to have some sort of answer for why you were like this. you didn't know. you just got here.

"steal one." you look around the parking lot of the little strip mall he'd taxi'ed you both to, and nod toward a big black truck towering above the other cars. "that one."

dean follows the direction of your finger and snorts. "no way in hell. that guy's gonna notice immediately that that thing is missing."

just like how dean noticed that you were missing, when the tides shifted or the moon phased at a certain time, and suddenly you were a girl by a light pole and not a car parked under the streetlight. that was understandable.

dean runs a hand over his face, turning his back to you again in that way that didn't fully seem to indict you, but it didn't really make you feel like an innocent party in this.

you could help. of course you could help. dean wanted a car, that car was the scariest in the area, he couldn't take that one with force, so...

the front windshield has "DEER HUNTIN" sprawled into the glass in an ugly, abrasive font. dean was a hunter. he wore lots of layers, even when he'd be driving in the dead of summer. you just needed to find a guy in lots of layers.

so you disappear, ducking into one of the little businesses in the mall with hunting & fishing goods on the big sign out front. everyone in there sort of looks the same, the whole place smells a little like oil and a lot like dirt and hay, and you think that you've made a poor judgement call until you find him.

big guy, as big as the truck in the parking lot. camouflage hat and jacket. dirt all over his jeans. a t-shirt beneath the jacket that says i like my girls like i like my bucks: big and horny. he's your guy. he's so your guy.

"hi, sir," you say, trying to puff out your chest in that way that dean hates but makes you feel a little bit taller and on his level. the guy looks over at you in a way that dean also does, sometimes, but he's much more obvious about it than dean is. "is that yours?"

you point to the truck in the parking lot.

the guy puffs his chest up, too, and now you really don't know why dean hates it, when it just seems to be a dude thing. "it sure is, pretty thing," he drawls, putting the box of ammo back on the shelf, "you want a ride in it?"

"no thank you." you hold out your hand instead. "can i have the keys?"

he laughs. your face visibly falls, and he laughs a little harder. "won't go for a ride with me but expects me to fork over my keys. i'll be damned. what's your name?"

"baby."

"baby," he doesn't say it like dean does, with awe and reverence and sentiment. he says it like it tastes filthy in his mouth. "tell you what. go on a little ride with me, and i'll let you take it for a spin."

"no thank you." how many times did a girl have to tell a man no? seriously. "i just want the keys."

the door to the shop dings, the echo of the bell ricocheting around the spacious area. "baby?" dean's voice. you are so helpless to the way that you light up at the sound of it. "baby, you better—"

he cuts himself off, his eyes landing directly on you. you can always tell when dean's looking at you. there's something physical and innate in the way his gaze rests like its own sort of blanket over your skin.

the guy behind you nods toward dean. "that your boyfriend?"

"no. that's my driver."

you could not possibly be more clear, but the guy's face twists up. "so why the hell do you need my keys?"

dean is at your side now, a hand on your hip and a grimace on his face. he tends to wear that look a lot around you, now, even though you still catch glimpses of the fondness when he thinks you're not looking.

"she doesn't." dean pulls you a little more into his side, and you grin. he's always so warm. "sorry 'bout that."

"keep your girl leashed, alright?" the guy scoffs, turning back to the shelves full of ammo boxes. "she's tryin' to get into trouble she can't handle."

you could handle a lot of things. you'd been crashed a few times. you'd been long overdue of an oil change. you were pretty sure that dean was conceived in you, which was an entirely other sort of thing you didn't even want to think about. were doing pretty well without thinking on it, thank you. you could handle things, and it wasn't fair that this stranger thought he knew you based on one interaction that you were certain was going just fine.

dean seems to sense that you're about to dig a deeper hole for yourself, and so he starts to tug you away. "yeah, yeah, she's leashed," dean grumbles, his teeth gritted together. he doesn't like the guy either, it seems.

you barely take a step away before dean's turning to you again with that look of unadulterated exasperation. again. "what the hell was all that?"

"you said we couldn't steal it because he'd know." like, did dean just... forget that conversation in a two minute span, or what? "so i went to ask him for the keys."

dean's lips flatten. he's really, seriously trying to keep the blank expression but the twitch of his dimples gives away his amusement. "no."

"yes." you reach into dean's jacket pocket over your shoulders and hold out the keys. "got them, too."

"he gave them over?"

you smile. and that's how you know that dean was yours and you were his, and that even if he was getting premature gray hairs from you, he still adored you. "no. i was just letting him know i was taking it. i wasn't really asking."

dean laughs this time. well and truly laughs, holding the shop's door open for you. "you are somethin' else."

"i'm helping," you correct, looking down at the key fob in your fingers. you press the unlock button, but the truck's headlights don't light up. it sits as idle as ever.

the car next to it, a model close to yours but not quite as well taken care of, beeps in acknowledgement.

you pass the keys over to dean, practically skipping toward the impala in utter glee. the cards always worked in your favor, didn't they? you'd been with the winchesters for three generations, passed down like an heirloom, but this was the one that loved you the most, and now you could finally show it.

"scratch that, baby," dean says as he catches up to you, catching you around the waist to drag you in for a kiss on the temple, "you're a goddamn godsent."

yes. you definitely were.

notes. forgot i wrote the first part to this, and then this came into my head, and it made me giggle so i had to write it. pls enjoy

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @sunsettsam @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @couturewinx @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra

[buckysgrace]

Sugar and Spice

Steve Harrington x pregnant!reader

You and Steve try and bake one of your cravings when he burns himself.

"It sounds so good," you whined as you stretched out over him, hand pressed across your stomach to keep the fluttering inside you at bay, "don't you think?" Your gaze snapped towards Steve, whose legs were tangled with yours. He cocked his eyebrows, brown eyes drifting back towards your features and away from the western that was playing.

"Do you know how to make it?" He asked as he continued to dig his fingers into your feet, making you sigh softly at how relaxing it felt. They had swollen up like balloons, now matching the rest of you.

"It's just cake," you reasoned with a little grin, "except we bake it backwards." You told him with a firm nod of your head, sure that was what it consisted of. Your sweet tooth had grown within the last month of your pregnancy, making anything sugary sound incredible to you. Currently, you were desperate for a taste of some pineapple upside down cake.

"What does that mean?" He asked as his features contorted into pleasure. You huffed dramatically, trying to think of how to explain it correctly.

"Like you put the pineapples and cherry at the bottom of the pan," you explained as you used your free hand to speak, "and on top of that you put the cake stuff." You smiled as you settled it all together, watching the way his eyebrows raised as he nodded his head slowly.

"The cake stuff." He repeated as he squeezed at your ankles, releasing as you slowly began to swing your legs off of him. You struggled from a moment, still forgetting how heavy the bump attached to you could be.

"Precisely," you said with a nod of your head, "and don't make fun of my wandering words. That's your fault." You pointed towards him playfully, taking a deep breath as you gripped the back of the couch and the arm rest, slowly beginning to push yourself up.

"M'sorry," he said sweetly, like curling into a soft smile, "so we're having cake for dinner?" He asked as he sat up far faster than you, placing a hand against your back and your waist to push you the rest of the way up.

"Maybe ice cream too," you stated as you gave yourself a second to catch your breath, shaking your head before you wobbled towards the kitchen, "I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"Sounds delicious," he teased as he followed behind you, his hands brushing against your sides as you began to search for what you needed, "I'll get the pans." He suggested, glancing at you before he stepped forward. You were sure it had to do with the pants being so low to the ground, and how last time you nearly got stuck in a squatting position.

You worked on getting the cans of fruit out of the pantry, proud of yourself for getting that earlier in the week. You used the can opener as Steve spread some shortening across the bottom of the pan. You watched him work as you pressed the can of pineapples up to your lips, taking a large sip.

"At least it's not pepperoncini's this time," he grinned as he turned towards you, making your features turn into a scowl, "even though that was pretty funny."

"It hurt my tummy," you mumbled as you set the pineapples down, watching as he scooped them out and set them neatly across the pan, "or his tummy." You replied a second later as you placed your hand across your tummy, hoping this meant that your baby wouldn't be a picky eater.

You opened the jar of cherries as he continued to spread them out, draining the pineapples a few seconds before he tossed it down. You hadn't suffered much with morning sickness or nausea, but you had been facing severe heartburn this whole time. And you were huge. It only made you slightly nervous to think about how big the baby would be.

"You know the cherries are supposed to go in the pan." He teased as he glanced towards you, holding his hand out as he waited for you to pass them along.

"I'm well aware." You told him as you took another handful, unable to help yourself. This baby had certainly turned you into a pig, but you could blame that on Steve too.

"Can I see them then?" He asked as he wiggled his fingers at you, making you pretend to think before you slowly handed it towards him.

"Oh, alright," you grinned as you stood at his side, wrapping your arm around his waist as you watched the way he dropped a mess of cherries across the pan, "you can use all of them." You admitted as you pressed your lips together, biting back your own laughter.

"At least we know he'll like fruit." He reasoned as he did what you said, dropping the cherries all across the pan. You thought about it for a moment.

"With lots of sugar," you responded as you crinkled your nose up, smiling as you met his amused eyes. You could see the green poking out as the sunlight drifted across his pretty features, "sweet, just like you." You teased as you brushed your finger across the curve of his nose, making him snort as his cheeks grew pink.

"How do we make the cake part?" He asked instead, brushing your compliment off. You shrugged your shoulders as you walked away, knowing that you'd bother him about it later. You thought it was cute that he grew almost bashful at times.

"From the box," you replied as you dragged the yellow cake mix out from the back of the pantry, "Quicker and easier." You reasoned as you nodded your head, watching as he squinted to look at it. You had been bothering him about getting glasses for a while, but he was adamant that he didn't need them.

"Works with me," he responded as he took it from you, reading the instructions as he opened the top of the box, "can you get some eggs?" He asked as you waddled your way back to the fridge.

"How many?" You asked as you popped the door open, pausing to rub at your lower stomach as the fluttering inside of you grew. You were surprised that you weren't bruised from how much you were kicked.

"Two of them." He mumbled from across the way, distracted as he measured the oil out. You slowly bent over to grab the eggs, carefully holding them in your hands as you walked back to him.

He quietly thanked you as he began to mix everything together in a bowl, his free hand reaching forward to set the time on the oven. You stretched out, careful to avoid hitting your bump against the counter as you pulled the brown sugar down.

"What's that for?" He asked as he looked at you, then squinted back at the words on the box as if he had forgotten something. You giggled at how cute he looked, biting own on your bottom lip gently.

"We put it over the fruit," you responded, "I think so anyway." You shrugged as you tried to recall what the syrupy sweetness in the cake was, predicting what it could be.

"Alright," he shrugged his shoulders, leaning over your shoulder to watch you dump it on top, "should we spread it out?" He laughed as he slowly began to do just that.

"Probably." You grinned as you dug your hands in with him, getting sugar all over your hands. He smiled as he pulled away, dragging his large hands across your cheeks as you gaped at him.

"You did not just do that." You froze as you felt the sugar dripping off of your cheeks, eyes wide as you turned towards him in disbelief. He was wearing a cheeky grin, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I did," he apologized as he leaned forward, sticking his tongue out to lick part of it away, "my bad." He grinned as you gasped once again, shaking your head as you waddled over to the sink.

"That's a very rude way to treat the mother of your baby," you teased as you scrubbed your face and hands clean, glancing back at him as he handed you a towel, "ok, you're forgiven." You added a second later, easily swayed with him.

And it was hard not to be. He was the sweetest, even though your face still felt sticky with sugar. As the timer for the cake ticked down, he fussed over you. Like usual. Before you used to protest, reminding him that you weren't fragile just because you were pregnant. But now you didn't mind, you enjoyed it quite a bit actually. It made you feel special.

"Three more weeks," he added as he placed his head on your lap, allowing you to gently play with his messy strands, "are you excited?" He asked as he turned towards you, leaving you to gently trace the moles on his face.

"I am," you hummed softly as you traced your thumb across his lip, heart hammering at the way he looked at you, "I hope he looks just like you too." You told him truthfully, pressing your thumb against the corner of his lips as his smile grew. He didn't get time to respond before you both jumped, startled by the sound of the timer in the kitchen going off.

"I'll get it," he told you quickly as you tried to get back up again, feeling like you sunk further into the cushions instead as the timer went off, "don't worry about it." He laughed as he kissed the top of your head, making you giggle.

You traced your fingers over your stomach once again as you thought about your words, truly hoping that your little boy would resemble him. At least if he had his eyes, you'd be happy then.

"Shit!" You jumped up this time, eyes widening as you rushed towards the kitchen. You had just enough time to see him accidentally bump his hand against the hot stove racks, face contorted into pain as he quickly tossed the pan onto the top of the oven.

"Oh!" you shouted back, taken aback as he waved his hand back and forth in the air, "cold water! Run water over it." You said quickly as you turned the water towards the cool side, gripping his wrist softly as he placed his hand under the stream.

"Damn it," he sighed as he closed his eyes, shaking his head, "I don't know why I did that." He shook his head, looking frustrated with himself.

"It happens," you cooed softly as you brushed your fingers across his wrist gently, "don't worry about it. Does it hurt?" You asked him softly, feeling like it was a dumb question. It looked like it was painful.

"A little." He mumbled softly, glancing at his hand before he looked back towards you. You pouted your lips out, feeling bad for him.

"I'll get a band-aid and some cream," you said quickly, slowly releasing your grip from his hand but ensuring that he kept it under the water, "don't move." You demanded as you wagged a finger at him again, watching as he nodded his head in agreement.

"I won't." He promised as he glanced back towards you. You waddled your way through the house, stopping at the first bathroom to search for the little first aid kit you had slowly created.

You quickly gathered up the items that you needed, taking a few different sized band-aids with you as you weren't sure just how big his wound would be. You only hoped it wouldn't blister, as that always made it worse in your opinion.

"Here," you hummed gently as you gently patted his hand dry, frowning as you looked at the gash along the side of his palm. It was about half the size of your thumb length wise, but it didn't appear to be too thick, "poor baby." You cooed as you began to dab cream along his wound.

"It was dumb." He replied as he stood close to you, resting his cheek against your head. You inspected his hand for a moment, letting the cream soak into his skin before you bandaged him up.

"Happens to the best of us," you responded, pausing for a second to hold up your hand. There was a little scar along two of your knuckles, one that you showed off proudly, "I grabbed a curling iron the wrong way when I was little. I learned that day."

"Awe," he smiled as he held your hand delicately with his long fingers, squeezing your skin softly before he brought your hand up to your lips, "I bet that hurt." He hummed as he kissed your hand gently, eyes softening as you scoffed playfully.

"It did, lover boy," you teased as you pulled your hand away gently, working on getting him bandaged up, "it didn't look as bad as this though." You admitted, glancing towards him to make sure that you weren't accidentally hurting him. He didn't whine nor complain, nor did his features tense up like it was bothering him.

"Not my worst injury." He said a second later, giving his shoulders a little shrug as you slowly nodded along. You'd seen many of his marks and had spent much more time kissing them. They were apart of him, lovely.

"I guess so," you smiled as you gently kissed the bandage, not wanting to hurt him, "thank you for making me cake." You praised him as you brushed your cheek against the healed part of his hand, making his grin grow on his lips.

"You're welcome," he replied as he dipped down to kiss your nose, "I'm happy to help."

[loveafterdeath-if]

Okay, So I'll take this opportunity to steal a few asks from other ifs.

How would the ROs react if the MC got drunk on a night out and when they tried to help him get home the MCs tells them that they they have a girlfriend/boyfriend and pushes them away, this being once the MC and ROs are in a relationship of course, I have an angtsy version of this ask but I fear it might be too angtsy so I'll wait for your expert opinion and angster (angst author) in chief

I'm late, am I not? You're free to beat my ass for the late reply, lmaooo

L blinks at you, their hand brushing their arm where your hand pushed them away. They don't follow you to their car, only stare at your retreating back, forcing you to turn around with a puzzled frown.

"I told you I already have a lover," you slur. "Stop following me."

They point their finger at themself with a charming grin that slowly spreads across their face. "I am."

"What?"

"I'm your lover," they clarify with a proud nod following their words. "I'm the lucky woman/man who can call you theirs."

You blink, vision a bit blurry from your intoxicated state. That person is... yours? You tilt your head, observing the gorgeous man/woman standing a few feet away from you.

And just like that, a bark of laughter escapes your mouth as you sway on your feet. "No way!"

"Yes way," L preens under your disbelief, resuming their steps to stand in front of you and reach for your hand. They interlace your fingers with a wink. "So let's keep it that way."

You squint at them, processing their words. "Oh," you murmur, realization dawning on you before another laugh leaves your lips. "You're right."

"How many drinks did you have again, honey?" L chuckles, tugging your hand to guide you to the car, their thumb stroking your skin tenderly. "Should I be worried you forgot about me?"

"What?" You frown at them as you pull your hand away. "Wait—stop hitting on me, I have a boyfriend/girlfriend."

L glances down at their now empty hand, already missing your warmth. Their smile falters, and you swear they look like a kicked puppy.

You grimace. Maybe that wasn't the best joke to make just after genuinely forgetting they were, in fact, your lover.

"I'm kidding this time," you quickly reassure them, grabbing their hand back as you resume your step to the vehicle.

Their eyes light up as they're all too happy to lift your linked fingers and press a kiss against your skin. "You got me worried there, honey."

____

Ekissa watches you with a frown as you retreat. Did they hear you right? They don't have time to think, already fastening their steps to grab your wrist before a car can come barreling down on you.

"Look where you're going, dumbass," they grumble, tugging you away from the road.

"Stop following me," you try to yank your arm away, but they're quick to grab your hand instead. "I told you I already have a—"

"I'm the lucky bastard who's dating you, sweetheart." Ekissa cuts in, glancing at you with a raised brow. "And you drank one too many. So now, either you let me help you get back home safe, or we're gonna have a problem."

You squint at them, processing their words. "Wait, really? You? You and me?"

"No, you and my sis," Ekissa quips, sarcasm dripping through each word. "Yeah, you and me. What, got a problem with that?"

"Nope, no problem at all," you shake your head with a smile, the movement making you sway.

"Careful," they sigh in growing frustration, yet there's fondness as they squeeze their hand around yours. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

"Oh, oh," you snort, interlacing your fingers with theirs when you finally remember. "Right."

"Finally remember my existence?" Ekissa grumbles, their eyes meeting yours.

You huff a laugh, offering an apologetic kiss against their shoulder. "Yeah."

Their features soften ever so slowly, but the words don't follow the expression. "Should I kick your ass for forgetting me?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary," you mumble in your intoxicated state. "I'll be nice from now on."

That earns a snort from them, their hand in yours drawing you closer until your shoulders are pressed together despite their allergy to public displays. "Yeah, yeah, I heard this one before."

____

"I am your boyfriend/girlfriend," T wastes no time clearing up the misunderstanding as they walk next to you despite your protest.

"You're not," you slur, your eyes looking where you're walking. "I'd know if it was you."

"Clearly, you don't," T retorts matter-of-factly as they grip your elbow tightly to keep you balanced when you nearly trip over nothing. "I told you to go easy on the drinks."

"What?" You turn your attention to the dark-haired woman/man. Your eyes blink slowly, having difficulty keeping them open.

"You drank too much," T clarifies, deciding it’s better to give up on chiding you as they shake their head. "Never mind, let's get you home before you fall and get hurt."

Your eyes narrow, your finger jabbing gently into their shoulder. "How do you know where I live?"

"Because I'm your boyfriend/girlfriend," they answer flatly, not particularly annoyed to repeat that simple sentence again and again.

That brings a tiny smile to the corners of their lips the more they repeat it. They could repeat those words for an entire day and wouldn’t tire of it.

"No, you're not. Because I already have one."

"Yes, and that's me."

"What...?" You huff a laugh, your steps unstable despite T helping you walk. "Really?"

"Yes."

"You?"

"Yes, me."

"And me?" You add.

T lets go of your elbow to slide their arm around your back and wrap it around you to better steady you as much as they can. "Yes, do you have any objections?"

Realization dawning on you, you snort, shaking your head with a small smile. "Not really."

"Good." They murmur as they squeeze your side gently.

____

Athiel's mouth opens in offense as a loud huff escapes their lips. Their features contort in frustration, hurt, and arrogance. "Fine. Faceplant yourself and see if I care."

They don't follow you, not even when your body sways at each step you take. Not even when you stop in your tracks and turn around to face them with a tiny frown.

You're drunk, not blind. And this woman/man is not only gorgeous but also criminally adorable with the little pout they have right now.

Despite yourself, you find your feet approaching them with a curious, almost wondering expression. "Are you pouting?"

"Go away," Athiel crosses their arms, glaring at nothing in particular on their right.

"You're pouting," your lips tremble, and you're trying your hardest not to smile. "I have to stay loyal. And I told you I already have a boyfriend/girlfriend."

"Yeah? Well, go back to your lover then," Athiel lifts their chin, but they don't meet your gaze, determined to sulk all night if they have to.

"I will," you nod slowly, processing your own words as you try to remember who is actually your lover.

Your face must betray your thoughts because Athiel narrows their eyes at you. "Sorry won't cut it."

"C'mon, I was... joking, mostly..." you try to get away with it with that laugh that people have when they're drunk. You grimace when you're met with a glare from your lover. "I'm sorry..."

"I don't care," Athiel clicks their tongue as they walk past you.

Your hand shoots forward to grab their hand and interlace your fingers as you walk beside them. "I'm sorry... I'm just too drunk, like, really drunk."

"I don't care," they repeat, but their fingers tightening around yours like a lifeline proves otherwise. "You better remember who's your woman/man next time. I'm not dealing with your stupid brain every time you drink too much."

"Yes, ma'am/sir," you hum, bringing your linked hands up to leave a kiss against their skin, something that earns a blush on their face that never gets old to admire.

[srtatropicalia]

So, I'm thinking of going back into writing and I had a brilliant idea just when I was about to fall asleep: batfamily and murderbot fusion. More specifically Tim Drake in a murderbot AU. Will include enemies to friends to lovers jaytim.

My idea is, Tim is a specially designed secunit, made by the Drake Industries to spy and infiltrate and protect Janet and Jack. He poses as their son and his identity as a secunity is not public knowledge. He follows Gotham's vigilantees through hacked security cameras and hacks his government module as soon as he self realizes as a person, really.

Gotham is one of the most dangerous space stations in corporate space. Lots of very hostile corporations have centrals there, including Wayne Enterprises, Drake Industries, Joker's & co., etc. Lots of batman villains are there as terrorists against the corporate system, while bruce himself tries to fight the system while staying mostly inside it. This will be a point of contention in the plot.

So, we follow Tim through the Jason Todd returns as Red Hood arc. Tim is acting as Robin while still working for the Drakes (possible because the drakes travel 90% of the time, as usual). Tim's still not in a safe space, though, because Bruce is destroyed after Jason's death and Dick is low contact. Tim is not directly mistreated, but it's like he's serving a function: he thinks of himself as a machine serving a purpose, he's the substitute of Jason Todd and can never compare, but he can try and do good for the people he has watched and loved for a long time.

Maybe I'll write some scenes of Tim from before as flashbacks: watching through the cameras and taking screen shots of batman, having a puppy crush on Jason Todd and stopping himself from stalking him bc he realises it's creepy. The Drakes' mistreatment of him. Jason's death.

Jason survived the explosion because he was forcibly brought back to life with augments by the Assassin's League tech. His body is half machine and he's super unconfortable with that. His humanity was one of the only aspects he could feel was worth something in the cutthroat and crual corporate rim. At least humans are superior to machines, but now he is mostly machine. Who can garantee he's not a machine impostor?

So Jason comes back and he literally tortures and kills Tim in the titan's tower; Tim only survives because he's a construct and is difficult to kill. Then Jason realises that Tim is a secunity, and his own prejudices against constructs start to act up. At the end of the day, Jason lived his whole life in corporate space and is not impermeable to propaganda. Plus, his own self hate against his machine body manifests itself as not thinking of Tim as human.

As usual, Tim was star struck with Jason, and feels the mistreatment is justified; because he's a machine. He doesn't have feelings. He's just there to help. But progressively, as Dick gets closer and he starts making more friends in the Titan's (as a reaction to his destruction). And then he starts to internalize that he deserves to be threated nicely and his hero worship of Jason flies ot the window. He starts to stand up for himself and Jason starts to question the stuff he grew up thinking.

Maybe this all happens through the course of a case fic, some investigation of other. I really don't like to write the joker but maybe another villain? Idk. I'm really exited for it, though.

Feel welcome to throw some ideas at me!

[officeobject]

(Half-related vent to Tumblr, no need to read, not recommended to read, nothing personal, etc):

Why am I still being recommended an account of a person I'm never gonna meet anyway, when I thought my interests (aka myself), and my fears (aka teens), were made very clear, as well as what triggers my addiction. It's great that this person is having birthday, but I wouldn't know that, if Tumblr would stop recommending them. I'm not gonna block them, as that's extreme, and I have no reason to, and they're welcome to talk to me, I just expected this to go away on its own. I know how this person is, coming back isn't a welcome - it's like coming back to school, aka an arena full of teenagers - as they have, like, a BILLION notes every time, especially compared to me, and, what, I'm supposed to praise them as well?! What am I supposed to do?! You want me to see their posts?! FINE, I'll SEE their posts, but don't come YELLIN' at ME when I vent in them or whatever! I have a hard time enough ignoring things as it is, and then there's half this person's posts, which are presumably about some other hormone-having thing - and as blockable as I am, I don't wanna be RUDE or anything (even though romance and other stuff should be tagged and I don't tag all my posts almost every single time, just to end up reading stuff that makes me side-glance my damn addiction), and like, good for them ... what now though? And WHAT ABOUT ME? Isn't my ACCOUNT, about me? Like, PLEASE, can we focus on the one I have regular contact to (aka ME), who DOESN'T have a thousand MILLION notes at my feet at each vent or each unfunny post, and who I NEED, to focus on, because "just don't think about things that trigger your addiction", and, "think about things that make you happy, not scary teens!" - and like, I didn't WANT, to be back - TO A PERSON WHO REMINDS ME OF PEOPLE I WISH I NEVER MET BY THE WAY - but anyways, in order for this to not just be a roasting session (that's later today, with marshmallows, and not with the flesh of some hormone-container), I do wanna add some compliments, because I don't hate this person, but I do fucking hate my fucking life, right now: they seem nice, nice positivity or whatever when they're being happy and positive for no reason, nice cohesive memorable Picrew, grammar not bad except for lack of capitalization, points for honesty, paragraphs are nicely spaced out (not relatable LOL - shit I didn't even space THIS one out) - pretty Picrew person, and that's all I guess. I don't wanna come off as rude (after I just came off as very rude), and yes they don't need to know that, but like ... actually, it's not like my choices in life always make sense, or are always nice or anything - I don't know why I just don't or what is wrong with me or why I just DO, but it's in my personality, and I have a weird tendency to follow that, which contrasts with what my addiction even is.

i dont know why im doing this, but

hi, my name is rin.

you might know me already, seen me in passing, hate me or know nothing about me.

you may also know me as batman, or ria, or ren or even sometimes raf.

i like a lot of stuff, like music and poetry and writing.

I love my partner. a lot

i do some sports, like archery and rock climbing, but thats not really my thing. i also write songs, play flute and ukulele.

i like math, and design, i enjoy reading and writing essays, i got gifted kid burnout but i love doing stuff too much to stop.

sometimes, i feel rather old. but im just a kid in this fucked up world and sometimes that makes me sad.

im depressed, and have anxiety, and a slew of mental health issues. i'm also probably neurodivergent.

im not very normal, in a lot of regards, but i think that adds to my character.

im trans, specifically genderfluid, but im getting to a stage where im starting to not give a shit.

im aroace, aroflux technically. but as far as im concerned i like my partner and i dont really know what else.

i do a lot of stuff, i consume a lot of media, you will never catch me lacking cus im really chronically online and just a little bit insane.

my birthday is soon, which i suppose is why im writing this, but i thought i should reintroduce myself to me. as i age i've managed to be the same person, in a lot of different ways. i dont always recognize the person in the mirror, but i think thats ok.

i hope its ok.

and ive come to realize maybe i dont need to be fixed. im definitely not normal but i've never wanted to be either.

id like to be someone who does cool shit, and someone who makes and advocates and does what i love. but normality is simply not for me and i really rather be a crazy bitch in the middle of the woods than a normal bitch in the suburbs.

so yeah, i'm rin, welcome or welcome back to my shitshow of a brain.

[kuromipuzzles2000]

February is almost to come to an end and with it almost ending my 200 followers special, it will do the grand finale when the art contest comes to it's end!

for now. . .let's go with some messages to the special people i meet here, starting with. . my idols! like idk how to animate (i'm a loser) i did a drawing just for them they're not much but i really appreciate them be chibied and holded by me!

i am not a mutual so i can't say much of you all but I'll try dedicate words from my own experience

@grinnames

is my most recent idol i follow (hahaha shyness) but had been following her content since a month ago, i love horror content and i love, LOVE your god box au! i really wish could do a version of god box of my sona but she's total a robot with no soul to kill so she just is a empty shell with a advanced motherboard lol you're awesome and really surprised me when you liked one of my posts for first time and see how kind you are to me such a horrid artist (i like insult myself leave me alone/silly) i hope you keep up the good work!

@bluestrawberrybunny

you really are a sweet and kind person, i love your content, i love how you draw marware, i love apprenticeship au! i still grateful and appreciate you for step up and tell your opinion to haters about my Swap Puzzl3 ship problem, never expected someone i admire would comment about my problem with Puzzl3, i wish i could draw more of your aus, i had in mind make some of my puzzles meeting apprenticeship au puzzles U-U but shyness got me again, i saw your recent posts and i really pray everything goes fine for you, I'll wait for your return if you ever think think and if not, I'll hold dearly the memory and support your content as long as your blog isn't deleted lol, hope you get better soon

@its-a-me-mango

you! points at you you mango! i need thank you for had inspire me and push me to join fully to this meme fandom (SMG4 fandom) everything started with the drawing your sona on Mr. Puzzles outfit trend you created, and your words and art inspired me to start my journey, and now i am on this way of 200 followers with 5 Mr. Puzzles Aus! too you had inspired me to create Strawberry, and i am glad you loved him, you're a big inspiration and idol for me, i hope you appreciate these words! I'll follow you till the end and consume your content till the end! you'll no get free from me easy/silly, you're too a fun person to be around it seems, but i rather keep being a fan because i am shy for talk more often with you, thanks you for these quality drawings you make and i hope you continue and enjoy your art dreams!

@libbytwq

lore u-u i found your blog since a while (since i saw Mango talk about u lol) and not much ago i followed you (again because i'm shy) but i really love see your content, i love SMGL:E she looks so rad and was the first Peach Meme Guardian i saw, i loved the concept and i still do, no for nothing you inspired me to do SMGS "Shadow" what i had consume of your sona lore the most i get more into it, i am waiting patiently for it, meanwhile I'll wait till you have time to continue with your awesome drawings, but i just wanted make you know you too are a inspiration and idol for me, take your time, and good luck with the real life stuff, i wish you the best ^^

tysm to you guys, again i really appreciate you and i hope you guys keep going with the awesome job you all do, and if you retire, to let you know I'll always remember you and remember you guys pushed me through my comfort zone and now i am here, at 200 followers thanks to see you guys

take care ^^

[serxa]

THE PRINCE HAS TO LEARN THE HARD WAY — PART 2 — ELEVEN

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Telemachus' first day with his trainer, Y/n, in the market, after Penelope made him take a short term job to pay his debts of favors.

Warnings: None

PART 1

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐒' 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘, he walked around the still empty market, where people were just setting up their stands. It was early on the morning, where the sun was still rising. They agreed that he would start early in the morning for his first few days to see if he can handle opening the shop with out without Y/n.

Telemachus walked over to Y/n who was waiting for him in the entrance of the market. "Telemachus?" She said softly as she walked towards him. Telemachus flinched a bit and blinked a couple of times before realizing it was the same girl from yesterday.

"Uh.. Yeah.. Uh.. So.. You're?" He waited for her to say her name. "Y/n." Telemachus nodded and rubbed the nape of his neck. It's always a gesture he does when he's shy. "So.. How do we start?" He asked, adjusting his cheap tunic. He wasn't used wearing these, but he loved them already because of its sot fabric. He'd prefer wearing this as sleep wear than his normal sleep wear.

"We just open up the shop first." She said as she gestured for him to follow. He followed obediently and watched as Y/n fixes he standee up. "So, all you need to know is be careful." She warned, which made Telemachus' shoulders say in embarrassment after he remembered what happened yesterday.

"But I'll teach you the basics later, we need to set up the already made artifacts." She says as she brought out a box. She pulled out a the same glass and clay animals that Telemachus saw from yesterday, that were covered with plastic to prevent the glass breaking easily.

She took the plastic off and he admired the little glass swan that she was holding. "Mostly the best sellers are in front. So.." She took a pencil and a scroll to read their sales.

"The clay and glass animals up front." Y/n said softly. "Me and my family are still saving up for a glass case for these so accidents won't happen anymore." She explained as she checked off a few sales and dates of past openings.

"... Uh.. Where's the animals?" Telemachus asked, actually determined to work. "It's all in this box." She pointed at the box nearby where she took the glass swan. He walked over and started to place the animals one by one on the shelves.

While doing so, he looked over at Y/n who was preparing the clay for the pottery, and her station. She, unlike other girls her age, was wearing a long sleeved top, that was folded till her elbows just like her father, and a tunic underneath. Of course, a job like this is really messy, so she had aprons hung near her station.

"Done over there?" She asked as she tied her hair up. Telemachus quickly fixed the others and put the box down. "Yup.." He said as he looked around her station. "You have to wear uniform." She handed the same long sleeves top she was wearing and an apron.

She started to put hers on while Telemachus put his top on. Once Telemachus was in his uniform, he rolled the sleeves till his elbows also. He looked at Y/n who was starting to make a small vase.

"Come here.." She patted a seat next to her as she put a small blob of clay on the spinning tray. Telemachus sat next to her, in front of his own spinning tray. There was a small step he had to continuously step on for the tray to keep spinning.

"The clay is over there." She pointed at a pot. "I'll teach you the basics first before we try and make a few animals." She smiled softly, showing Telemachus not to be worried. He smiled back and quickly took the same amount of clay she had.

Once they started to try and shape the clay, Telemachus was having a bit of a hard time, especially this was the first time he tried to do pottery.

"Just keep your hands steady.." Y/n said as she leaned over Telemachus shoulder, watching him. "Uh.." His hands wobbled a bit, making the case appear wobbly too. "Can I help you? I'll just hold your hands steady, that's it." Y/n asked for permission, holding her clay filled hands also. "Uh.. Y-Yeah, sure.. Just.. Show me how to do it too."

Y/n held Telemachus' hands and held them still, shaping the case a bit more better. "There.. Keep it like that." She constructed. After a bit, it was time for shaping the case, which Telemachus dreaded since he knows if he makes one mistake, it's hard to fix.

He sighed and watched at Y/n demonstrated him how to do it. He followed her movement and slowly but steadily, shaped his vase perfectly. He smiled and celebrated when Y/n clapped her hands softly. "There you go!" She praised him, making him feel jittery. He looked at his vase, which was still up for fixing, because of its shape, but it was amazing for someone with no experience in pottery.

Telemachus felt so proud of himself. "Alright, now we let this air dry before we paint and put it in the kiln." Y/n said softly as she washed her hands. Telemachus walked over also and waited for her to finish. When she finished, he started to wash his hands also.

"Now, when you're tending the shop.." She started as she started placing a few teapots, pitchers and vases on a different shelf. "You have a small scroll and pencil where you write how much you have sold. So if you managed to sell a small teapot, that will be based on your performance. If you do a low performance, the more you stay here. As, what your mom said." She explained, fixing her hair up since it was slowly falling from its ponytail because of her moving so much.

He sighed and quickly nodded as he dried his hands on his handkerchief, trying to steady himself. He wasn't sure why he felt this way. Maybe it's the way Y/n's hair is beautifully shining in the early morning sun, or how she's so skilled with making pottery that she could easily make a huge vase in 10 minutes, or maybe how her uniform draped down her body.

He quickly turned his gaze away, looking at his own scroll. "Maybe he first customer, you serve them." Y/n smiled softly. "Around a quarter of 10, there's a lot of people here in the market skeeming." She explained. "Uh.. How do I.. Like.. Serve them?" Telemachus asked, making eye contact with Y/n. "If they seem interested, ask if hey are, ask why they find it nice, and try and offer it by saying it's price." She said, crossing her arms as she looked at the others making and fixing their standee's.

"You settling in, Telemachus?" A voice came from behind them. They turned around and saw Y/n's father who was in his uniform also. "Oh- uh.. Yes, I am, sir." Telemachus mumbled, suddenly feeling small in the presence of your father. "No need to be scared. We're not all too mad.." He reassured Telemachus. He just nodded and smiled at Y/n's father.

"Is she doing well with teaching you how to work here?" Her father said gruffly as he turned around, looking at the drying vases. "Yeah, she's a lot of help." He said as he looked over at Y/n, who was starting to paint a few of her dried clay animals, her hands precise with the strokes and lines, and her eyes copying of the color of the animals really well.

"Alright, you two do some work. I'll be at the back." Y/n's father say again before disappearing to that back. Telemachus rested his head on he palm of his hand as he watched the others still preparing for the day. "So.." He started the conversation, glancing at Y/n. She hummed, looking over at Telemachus. "Yes?" She asked as she blinked, her eyelashes following with her eyelids.

"... I'm... Bored. Tell me a few about your self." He asked, not knowing where his boldness came from, but also showing that he's genuinely interested. "Uh.. Well, what do you want to know?" She asked, leaning against the table where he was.

"Well.. When did this shop ever open up?" He asked as he tapped on the table on random intervals. "Well, even when I was still an infant, this shop was old and running." I said softly. "My grandparents were the first to operate this." I explained, looking around the shop. "That's nice." He said softly, staring as her attention was off him, taking his time to look at her features more closely.

He immediately looked away when she looked back and smiled innocently when he glanced over. Y/n cocked one of her eyebrows up in confusion, before turning her attention back to the clay animal she was painting. Telemachus knew it was going to be a long day ahead of him, so he took one final stretch before he ready himself for a sea of customers coming later. For now, he just took his time watching Y/n's precise strokes on her work.

He looked at her scroll that was on the table and it showed there how much the different works of art were worth. He immediately jetted it down on his own scroll before the rush of customers would crash into the market. As he wrote it down, Y/n glanced over and smiled to herself he she saw Telemachus looking determined while memorizing and looking at the items, like he was trying to remember and memorize their prices.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

When Telemachus had a lot of sales, and asked Y/n for some help with some. At the end of his shift, he managed to fill his scroll with how many people he had helped and how many stiff he had sold by his persuasion, and mostly people bought there just because he was the prince of the kingdom where they lived.

Once they were about to close, Y/n took the same box she had asked Telemachus to unpack earlier morning. "Telemachus, tidy up all the things, I'll go clean the disks." I said, pointing at the trays where they made pottery. "Yes yes, go ahead. I promise I'll be careful." Telemachus said softly as he started to wrap the animals back in the plastic and place them inside the box.

As Y/n walked over tot eh sink, washing up the tray, she looked over at Telemachus. "Could you turn the open sign to closed?" She asked before turning her attention back tot he tray. Telemachus quickly turned it over and continued to do his job, wrapping the glass and clay animals, teapots, cupd, pitchers and vases in the designated boxes.

"Y/n.." He called out. Him and her haven't really talk as much, unless it's about work. So he really wanted to get to know Y/n, especially when she's really intriguing because of her talent.

"Yes?" She looked up as she dried the trays. "I'm done.." He placed the boxes under the table. "That's good. You could clock out now, I'll just clean around here." She said softly. "I can help." He suddenly suggested making Y/n perk up. "Really?" She made sure as she looked over at Telemachus, who nodded excitedly. For some reason, he's so excited to be talking to Y/n. "Uh-.. Alright.." Y/n gave him a wet towel, and pointed at the tables. "You clean them, I'll close the shutters and stuff."

She walked over to the entance and pulled down the shutters while Telemachus started scrubbing the tables, sweat from his forehead he didn't wipe earlier was now threatening to fall off his forehead. "You're sweaty." Y/n said softly, handing him his dry handkerchief.

Telemachus thanked her sorted before wiping his face, especially forhead to clean his sweat. Once Telemachus finished on the front counter, he walked over to the lottery station and started to clean there also. "Done." He murmured, giving the dirty damp towel back to her. She put it on the sink and stretched. "Alright, everything's fixed. You can clock out now." She pointed at the exit. He nodded and yawned a bit as he took his apron off.

"Sleepy?" Y/n smirkef softly as she also took her apron and long sleeves top off. "Yeah.. I am." Telemachus chuckled a bit, taking off his uniform and fixing his tousled hair. "Here, I'll get these." I took the dirty uniforms and compiled them in a small basket. "I can get them cleaned by tomorrow, don't worry." She reassured. Telemachus nodded once again and just stared at Y/n. "I'll uh.. Clock out now." He pointed at the exit.

"Yes yes, stay safe." She said softly, which made something flutter in Telemachus' stomach, which he immediately dismissed, not wanting to admit he's taking an interest to her. "Don't forget to close the shutters on the way out." She said, adjusting her tunic. "Bye.." Telemachus said, before turning around and walking out. "Goodnight, Y/n." He said softly.

"... Goodnight Telemachus." She smiled softly. Gosh that smile, how the God's really spent their time blessing her, Telemachus thought.

THERE'S A PART 3, I'M JUST SO LAZY

[michanvalentine]

I've now decided to write down my progress in my adventure as Karlach as I go, so I can bore you all to dea— ahem, I mean, so I don’t miss any noteworthy moments! Basically, I'll be documenting all the dumb things I do or think while playing! xD

So, the big moment has finally arrived. The little innocent one—Astarion—tried to take a nibble out of big mama K in her sleep. She took it well, lol. At worst, the vampire spawn would’ve ended up roasted, after all.

Here, I have to highlight something: even though Karlach can't feed Astarion, he still gives approval points just for kindness, and I’m not just talking about trusting him (which does grant approval, of course). The dialogue option I chose was, "I'd love to help you, Astarion, but unfortunately, my body won’t allow it." This means that, for Astarion, kindness and understanding matter more than the blood itself—and we're talking about a vampire who's never really been able to feed properly! Then, of course, he sulked off to go hunting in the woods, all mopey and pouty. Sorry, love, we’ll smash some goblins on the road later so you can have breakfast!

Naturally, the shameless flirting has begun, so I gifted him the Necromancy of Thay, and we rudely interrupted the two lovebirds going at it—much to my little gremlin’s delight. By the way, this is the first time I’ve managed not to kill that sweet couple in the middle of their... passionate moment, because Karlach just burst out laughing like a true barbarian, and the two stormed off, all indignant! xD

And for the record, I absolutely love when the game, as a barbarian, gives me the option to just smash things instead of having to think or talk my way through! I think I might be a bit of a barbarian myself.

Obviously, Gale is munching on boots, armor, necklaces—basically anything I can find. The boy—well, the hot old wizard in my case—is well-fed and happy. His approval is the highest of all, tied with Astarion (closely followed by Wyll and Shadowheart, while Lae'zel absolutely hates me, sob).

We talked about Mystra and shared a sensual moment in the Weave, which, in Karlach’s mind, ended with the two of them having dinner together. The thing that really got to me—and damn, I almost shed a tear—was Karlach’s specific dialogue option during the spell, where she could think of her mom and dad dancing in the kitchen as her moment of absolute peace. It’s such a beautiful image. I adore Karlach—her simplicity, her sweetness. I’m crying. I want to hug her (and horribly burn myself in the process)!

We met Gandrel and we also paid Auntie Ethel a little visit, and she was so happy to see us. So happy, in fact, that she threatened to rip out our spines and drink our bone marrow. Lovely. So, to save Myrina, we ventured into the depths of the hag’s lair, making noises somewhere between groans, grunts, and unsettling whimpers with every step. Guys, we’re a group of fearless heroes—we’re just going down some stairs, not climbing Mount Everest in a blizzard! For fuck’s sake! I can understand the wizard and the escort, but the rest of you? Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart? You too, Karlach?! Shame!

Naturally, while traveling, we had some cheerful chit-chat about super lighthearted topics, like, you know, cults of dark deities, Shar-worshipping clerics with amnesia and excruciating pain for reasons unknown, or vampire lords enslaving elves and other folks for their own little torture hobbies. Karlach has become the group’s confidante.

Of course, Wyll just had to bring up Astarion’s rat-based diet, lol, to which Astarion very calmly responded with mild death threats. Then Shadowheart asked Astarion who he’d prefer to drink from, and, once again, our vampire made it clear that Wyll is his top choice because he’s sweet and virtuous.

And this is where I really want to emphasize that, in my opinion, Astarion has such a deeply complicated love-hate relationship with the idea of a hero.

All in all, I’d say we’re a perfectly dysfunctional yet well-bonded group of misfits with only the entire world’s salvation on our shoulders. No big deal, right?

I’ll wrap this up with the screenshot of the day—hands down, the best one!

We’re there talking to Fezzerk about Barcus, and big mama K is rightfully pissed, Wyll is anxiously watching the poor gnome hanging from the windmill blades, and Astarion…?

What is that face?

Astarion: Now kill him, now kill him! Shh, be quiet, Astarion—act like nothing’s happening and don’t let on that you can’t wait for it to happen. Come on, Great Furnace, tear him to pieces. I'll just stay here, thoroughly enjoying his screams and watching his limbs burn.

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer: Keeping to myself?! I'm not- keeping anything to myself! I just... I had a great lunch with Charlie! That's all!

Adam raised his eyebrow at Lucifer before eating another cracker.

Adam: You sure?

Lucifer: Yes! Great lunch! No secrets! No lies! What about you, Adam? Anything to uh... stop keeping to yourself?

Adam: Nope! No- nothing like that!

Lucifer: Are... are you sure? Nothing?

Adam smiled: I'm an angel, Lucifer, I don't lie. Or have secrets. I'm like... the virgin Mary, except she's really not a virgin. Or a chick.

Lucifer: ...Right. uh... so... you're nothing like the virgin Mary?

Adam rolled his eyes: I literally JUST said-.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose: Yeah, I know what you said, Adam. It just... doesn't make sense. At all. And... and I think you're a lair. And you most definitely do have secrets!

Adam stopped moving just before he popped another cracker into his mouth. Was he hearing this fucker correctly?

Adam: What?! I- I don't-! The fuck, Lucifer?!

The first man jumped as Lucifer banged his fist on the table: Don't LIE to me, Adam! Why are you here?! And why- would you run to ME?! Don't you know what I could do to you?! What danger you're in?! You're in MY home! You've- done so much shit- including hurting my daughter! And you crawl HERE asking to stay with me?! Like we're friends? We're NOT friends, Adam.

The first man said nothing, he only stared at the king.

When neither said anything, the king sighed and glared at the man: We're not friends. Not anymore.

Adam: ...I-I know... can... can I go? I don't... I feel sick...

Lucifer stared at Adam before nodding. His eyes followed Adam as he left the room: Fuck...

This was only day one. How could Lucifer do this? How could he keep it up? This wasn't right. Adam lied to him, pretended to be someone else, and now refuses to tell him about the baby- if he's even pregnant.

But, he was to tell him at some point, right? He can't hide it. Especially not when he's in his seventh or eighth month. Unless he plans to leave before he's showing.

Lucifer: I can't lose the baby. Not in Hell... the sinners would brutalise it... and Adam... he needs to confess. If he wound tell me, I'll have to force him...

Adam the Exorcist

@beef-brisket

Lute looked up wide eyed as her commander was giving his speech and there was a little sinner coming up behind him.

Lute: SIR BEHIND YOU!?

Adam stopped and turned, he gasped and grabbed Nifty by the neck and threw her at the hotel crew and Lucifer, glaring at the lot of them.

Adam: THIS ISN'T FUCKING OVER!!

Lucifer: I think it is bud, you should go home.

Adam glared more, he was leaving because he wanted to not because this little fucker told him to. He waved his hand giving them the signal that extermination day was officially over.

Adam: Exorcists fall back!

Lute: But ..... Sir -

Adam: NOW Lute!!

She nodded and glared at the King and princess of Hell along with her friends. They all flew back to heaven and Adam flipped Lucifer off before he was fully back in.

Adam groaned when the portal closed, they had never had it go that wrong that fast. This wasn't going to end well.

-

Adam: Retire!?

Sera sighed she knew Adam wouldn't take this well.

Sera: Yes Adam, it's time you step down as the commander of the exterminators.

Adam: Is this about what happened!? Because it won't happen again.

Sera: You're right, it won't.

Adam sighed: But Abel? My boy is too soft to do that job.

Sera: There's no one else to do it. You nearly died down there we....... We can't lose you.

On one hand he understands where she's coming from, but he was meant to do this! The only reason things went bad was because Lucifer showed up.

Lute just HAD to kill the princess's pet.

Adam: I don't want him to die.

Sera: He won't. We will be doing a more regimented training routine. You deserve a rest Adam.

Adam: ..... Yes Sera.

She smiled and held out her arms, Adam hugged her. She was only doing this because she loves him, he knows that. Doesn't make it suck any less.

Adam went back to his room to lay down, he didn't realize how tired he was until he did.

There had to be a way that he could still be an exterminator.

Some how.

[rarepairdumpster]

Jurassic Park AU Part 1

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: T C/W: This is really just a silly AU, until it isn't, but that's in part 2

Jurassic Park AU where Viktor and Jayce are the plucky paleontology team. Silco is Ian Malcom and Heimerdinger is Hammond and Singed runs the lab.

Jayce gets huffy because Silco is flirting with Viktor all the time and that is NOT why they are here.

Viktor being absolutely fascinated with the plant life.

Jurassic Park is the reason Jayce and Viktor never get together. Because Trauma (tm) does funny things.

Plus, Viktor is legitimately charmed/flattered by Silco

Silco demonstrating the water drop on Viktor's hand.

Huck is the lawyer.

Silco: "Life, uh, finds a way"

Viktor going on a rant about how this is why gender essentialism makes no sense, because in adverse conditions, the animal kingdom will do what it must.

Also him pointing out all the poisonous plants like "Did you even look at a book before planting these?"

Silco: "What you call discovery, I call rape of the natural world"

Heimerdinger constantly huffy, because this is supposed to be FUN why are these guys such KILL JOYS.

Vi and Ekko as the kids and Ekko keeps following Jayce around and he's like can you NOT.

Jinx aged up, and the one who screwed the park over because she was majorly overworked and underpaid, and also fuck Heimerdinger.

Sevika as Samuel L Jackson.

angrily key smashes as Jinx's face dances on the screen

"Ah, ah, ah, you didn't say the magic word!"

Jayce wishing he had chosen the car with the kids after Silco and Viktor start flirting and teasing each other.

Jayce looks like season 2 Jayce by the end of the mess.

Viktor being so relieved when it turns out Silco DIDN'T get bit in half.

Viktor kissing Silco right there because he's so happy to find him alive.

"Well, remind me to thank Heimer for a lovely weekend"

The comment startles a laugh out of Viktor, and he just smiles, eyes getting all crinkly.

"Do you think you can move?" Viktor asks just before the TRex roars. 

"I'll chance it," Silco replies, starting to get up.

Viktor bullying Jayce into helping because Viktor can't do it

Viktor is furious at Heimer and when he and Silco get back he absolutely destroys him over how dangerous this is for EVERYONE and Silco got hurt and how dare you

And Viktor is actually terrifying when he properly loses his temper and Jayce is just there in background almost shitting his pants.

Viktor beating a raptor off with his cane and the raptor eventually deciding Viktor isn't worth it.

Silco and Viktor being the ones that get trapped in the kitchen by the raptors.

Silco is absolutely horny for Viktor's brains.

"If we weren't about to die, I'd take you on this counter in a very manly fashion," Silco chuckles once they lock one raptor in the freezer. 

"Yes, well," Viktor flushes, "I suppose I'll just hold you to it, if we don't"

Silco and Viktor share a very charged glance.

When they finally leave, Viktor doesn't call Silco for a long time, thinking that what they had was just trauma bonding.

Part 2

Arch + Woods

[chaoortu]

How do you go about keeping characters well..in character?

Asking because I read through your fic anatomy of a terrarium thus far, and I´ve never read a story where Nick has bipolar. But I read through it and go wow yeah I I´m still reading about Nick. I´m still reading him going through all this, Charlie helping him (or at least trying to). This still feels like canon even with it delving into much darker topics (like Nick using drugs, and him dealing with getting raped, amongst others)

Idk if I worded this awkwardly but basically, you just handled all these guys so well and I wanna know more about your process!

you didn't ask this awkwardly at all! So for me at least, I'm always like "man i wonder if this is ooc or if it feels as ooc for readers as it does for me the writer" something that helps is that i frequently reread or rewatch the canon if i feel like something i'm doing is veering too ooc for me to get away with. specifically the darker chapters or the more serious t.v episodes (the cinema episode in season one, the gcse bonfire in season 2, and the third episode of season 3 especially.) this keeps my characterization more consistent and refreshes me on tone. i also try to make narrative choices that make sense given what we know in canon. nick obviously has no signs of being bipolar in canon, that's something i came up with on my own, but he does use alcohol to numb himself during the Halloween episode of season 3 (and it's the first time we see him presumably drunk, as he does not drink that much when Charlie is around.) so I took that canon nugget and let it snowball into nick using drugs in the anatomy of a terrarium series (I have a lot of thoughts about substance abuse and how it's portrayed in media. generally i could see a nick who doesn't get help struggle with substance abuse in the future but that's a topic for another time.) i have a post somewhere where i dug into nick's mentality following his sexual assault and how much i based that around how he acts in canon. i'll link it here in case you'd like to read it but it's a good example of what i mean above! here I also go into a lot of my angst fics with the intention of using the angst, whether it be substance abuse, mental illness, terminal illness, etc, to say something about the characters and how they would act if those things happened instead of just having those things happen to them for the sake of it. Because I go into the idea with that in mind, it makes it easier to write them behaving similarly to how they do in canon. I also tend to base the angst off of my own experiences either going through things or witnessing loved ones around me going through them and that helps to keep things more grounded. and a lot of it just comes from experience and writing a lot. even though i've only been posting hs fic for like... maybe a year? maybe less, i've been writing fic in other fandoms for a decade at this point and when i'm not writing fics, i'm working on my own novels so i am literally writing every single day (it's my hobby and i love it to bits!!!) sticking to core canon things to make a fic read as "in character" is a skill in of itself. i look back on my first hs fics and i cringe a little because i can see my own inexperience with the characters in them. i would also say that even in my darker fits, i try to make sure everything ends happily or ends with a happy for now, and i think that promise of a happy ending keeps the whole fic feeling closer to canon because heartstopper will have a happy ending and we know nick and charlie stay together forever.

[nicnak20]

Wisdom teeth:

*Yn gets her wisdom teeth out and Nicholas cares for her.*

The sterile scent of antiseptic hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the warmth that usually radiated from Nicholas. He sat beside Yn in the plush waiting room chair, his dark brown hair catching the harsh fluorescent light as he shifted nervously. His brown eyes, usually pools of comforting reassurance, were now laced with apprehension. Yn was currently staring blankly at a fish tank, a vacant smile playing on her lips.

"Are you okay, my love?" Nicholas asked softly, reaching for her hand.

Yn turned, her smile widening. "The fishies are having a party! Did you bring the dip?"

Nicholas chuckled, relief washing over him. He'd been dreading this appointment. Wisdom teeth removal was never a picnic, and he knew Yn hated needles. He squeezed her hand gently. "I think the fishies have enough dip. Maybe we can get some ice cream after?"

Her eyes lit up. "Ice cream! With sprinkles? And gummy bears?"

"Anything your heart desires," Nicholas promised, his heart melting at her childlike enthusiasm.

A few moments later, a nurse called Yn's name, and Nicholas squeezed her hand once more, offering a reassuring smile. "You'll be great, sweetheart. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Yn, fueled by pre-op medication and perhaps a dash of nerves, simply giggled and skipped towards the back, leaving Nicholas in a state of amused bewilderment.

The next hour felt like an eternity. Nicholas paced, read tattered magazines, and even tried to solve a crossword puzzle, but his mind was solely focused on Yn. He imagined her in the dentist's chair, the whirring of the drill, the pressure, and winced in sympathy.

Finally, the nurse reappeared. "You can come back now. She's still a little groggy."

Nicholas followed the nurse down the hall, his heart pounding in his chest. He found Yn reclined in the dental chair, her cheeks flushed, and a comical bib still adorning her. Her eyes were open but unfocused.

"Hey, baby," Nicholas said softly, kneeling beside her chair. "How are you feeling?"

Yn blinked at him, then a slow smile spread across her face. "Nicholas! You're here! Did you see the squirrels? They're wearing tiny hats and tap dancing!"

Nicholas stifled a laugh. "No, I missed the squirrels. But I'm glad you're doing okay."

The dentist, Dr. Lee, approached with a sympathetic smile. "She's reacting to the anesthesia. It should wear off soon. Just keep an eye on her, make sure she gets plenty of rest, and follow the post-op instructions."

Nicholas nodded, taking the printed sheet of instructions from Dr. Lee. He knew the drill: soft foods, ice packs, pain meds. The usual.

Getting Yn home was an adventure in itself. She insisted on singing opera at the top of her lungs in the car, mistaking the dashboard for a stage. At one point, she even tried to conduct the traffic with her hand, much to the amusement of other drivers.

Once they were finally inside their apartment, Nicholas gently guided Yn to the couch. She immediately curled up in a ball, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Are you comfortable, my love?" Nicholas asked, tucking a blanket around her.

Yn opened one eye. "Nicholas? Are you a cloud?"

"Only when you need me to be," he replied, kissing her forehead.

He spent the next few hours catering to her every whim, which included copious amounts of ice cream (with sprinkles and gummy bears, of course), reruns of her favorite cartoon shows, and a surprisingly detailed explanation of the mating rituals of penguins.

At one point, while Nicholas was preparing a bowl of lukewarm mashed potatoes, Yn wandered into the kitchen, clutching a stuffed penguin.

"Nicholas," she said seriously, "Mr. Fluffypants here thinks we should adopt a llama."

Nicholas turned, trying to suppress a grin. "A llama? Where would we keep a llama, sweetheart?"

"In the living room! It can watch TV with us! And we can knit it sweaters!"

He knelt down, taking her hands. "Yn, as much as I love the idea of a llama in our living room, I think we should stick to Mr. Fluffypants for now. Okay?"

She pouted for a moment, then her face brightened. "Okay! But can we at least name our next car Larry the Llama?"

"Absolutely," Nicholas agreed readily. He'd agree to almost anything in her current state.

As the afternoon wore on, Yn's pronouncements became increasingly bizarre. She declared that squirrels were actually government spies, that she could speak fluent dolphin, and that she was secretly a time traveler from the year 3042.

Nicholas just listened patiently, nodding and offering the occasional affirmative response. He knew it was the anesthesia talking, that she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. But he also knew that these moments, however strange, were a unique expression of her personality, unfiltered and uninhibited.

Later, as the sun began to set, Yn finally started to drift into a more natural sleep. Nicholas sat beside her on the couch, stroking her hair and watching her peaceful face. He knew she would be sore and uncomfortable for the next few days, but he would be there for her, every step of the way.

He couldn't help but smile, remembering the events of the day. It had been chaotic, absurd, and utterly exhausting, but also incredibly endearing. He had seen a side of Yn he never knew existed, a side that was silly, imaginative, and completely unburdened by the constraints of reality.

As Yn stirred in her sleep, she mumbled something unintelligible. Nicholas leaned closer, trying to decipher her words.

"... love you… Nicholas…"

He smiled, his heart swelling with affection. "I love you too, my crazy, squirrel-obsessed, time-traveling penguin enthusiast," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

He knew that the next few days would be filled with ice packs, pain meds, and more than a few nonsensical ramblings. But he also knew that he wouldn't trade it for anything. Because even in her loopy, post-operative state, Yn was still the kind, sweet, loving woman he had fallen in love with. And he was endlessly devoted to her, in sickness and in health, in sanity and in…llama-induced madness.

He pulled the blanket tighter around her and settled in for the night, content to be her cloud, her audience, and her devoted protector, no matter how bizarre the circumstances.

He knew that tomorrow, she would be back to her normal self, a little embarrassed perhaps, but he would cherish the memory of this day, a reminder of the beautiful, quirky, and endlessly fascinating woman he was lucky enough to call his own. And maybe, just maybe, he'd even start researching llama sweaters. Just in case.