#Thanks for asking about this fic!

[star-spangled-bastard]

Well since you reblogged that post about being open to asks, I'm curious. What drew you in the first place to Northmoor and Ash as a pairing, and what was the impetus for wanting to write Sacred Geometry?

Thanks for the ask! Initially I thought what little info we get in the Foundation DLC was really interesting. I like the idea of them together as part of the apparent pattern of the Directors and Heads of Research seemingly gravitating to each other! Based on the in-game documents they didn't get along, at least in the initial expedition, so I knew it would take a lot for them to start to trust each other and even remotely get along. That in itself was a fun idea. My basis for their stances softening is that everyone was extremely stressed during that expedition, and Ash was, if not grieving, still dealing with whatever mixed feelings he had about Ash Sr. So I could see part of his distaste for Northmoor being that he wasn't in a good state to deal with his kind of personality, or the power trip he went on after making contact with The Board. I had vaguely wanted to write something about the pre-canon administration but didn't have a concrete (no pun intended) plan at first. When I was trying to come up with a title for Point of Contention, I had thought about the phrase "sacred geometry" since Hedron/Polaris are also a geometric structure like The Board. But I pretty much immediately decided to save that title for the pre-canon fic. And I basically started writing it as soon as Point of Contention was done. I planned on it being a oneshot like everything else, and it was going to focus on Northmoor's appointment as Director, increasing rise in power, and tragic fate. I went into it planning to examine the gradual change in Ash and Northmoor's sentiments towards each other but I was thinking it would be a trajectory from "bad" to "lukewarm" or at best mixed feelings. But I ended up having a lot more of Ash's pov than I originally planned once it got too long to not be split into chapters. And as the only other pov character until basically the end, he ended up with the line I was determined to keep in about wanting to bury his face in Northmoor's shirt because it smells like clothes right out of the dryer. (This is based on experience btw. When it's cold out I like to stand close to the forge and cotton shirts will actually heat up and give off that nice clean laundry smell. I like to think some FBC agents would find that feature appealing, though they'd probably be too afraid of him to get that close). The decision to give that line to Ash was made maybe halfway through so I just kind of ran with the idea of there being a lot of complicated feelings between them that they really just don't have a chance to work out because of all the other circumstances. That really helped shape one of the themes going on where the pyrokinesis itself is like a kind of repression. They physically can't touch each other. There is also the undercurrent of "I could love this person but my deity of choice wouldn't like it" which wasn't an intentional thing but it fits with the other themes going on in there. The main one I consciously worked toward was Ash being sort of representative of humanity and The Board of course as some divine power, so Northmoor is caught halfway between both and struggling over whether or not to abandon what humanity he has left to become like a god or to risk The Board's wrath for the sake of just being human when they demand more. That made his emotional connection to Ash make sense to me, and their growing closeness indicating him deciding (too late) that he'd rather side with humanity.

This is turning into an essay, so I'll stop here. I think I've linked this one song before in an ask game, but I'll embed it in its own post. It's a perfect vibe for what I thought the tone of the epilogue was going to be vs where it ended up

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[occudo]

do u have any more fic recs perchance... I read the beauty and the beast one and it was FANTASTIC

Ohoho-- do I? Yes, yes I do. First of all, glad you liked it! ( if anyone interested the fic is @cirrus-grey 's Not quite a tale as old as time ) If you like fairy-tale re-tellings, I suggest Beastly Behaviour by Prim_the_Amazing -also based on Beauty and a Beast.

Other, generally fantasy fic, I finished not to long ago and loved was @callmearcturus 's fic dustsceawung (with moth fae Jon)

If you also like vampire AUs, I highly recommend Strange Manner by @crit20art (vampire Jon) @milkteamoon 's Tounge to Teeth (victorian vampire Jon) and enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing (vampire Martin)

I also made a list of some of my other favorites here If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are rated T- just mind the tags)

[frownyalfred]

Clark kissing that part of Bruce’s head that hal got hurt while they were having sex in the showers

actually I didn't even think about the parallels between him and Hal in the fic until now...Hal being rough enough with Bruce that his head hit the shower tiles in the Cave (and Clark heard it) versus Bruce's face being pressed against the tile carefully when it's him and Clark in the hotel shower, or the back of Bruce's head hitting the Watchtower elevator wall because he's so into what Clark is doing, not because it was forced. hmmmmm. hmm.

[pnfc]

today i was revisiting the pnf choose your own adventure book where the author they roped in to write it has an only middling understanding of pnf, thinks candace is blonde etc, but still got this much correct

[erinwantstowrite]

Erin the comparison of JL vs the Avengers to Camp Jupiter vs Camp Half blood is toooo accurate 😭

JL: There’s an established system in place and contingencies for every foreseeable scenario

Avengers: fuck it we ball

peter thinks that the Avengers have it all together because they're his teachers and they're constantly telling him to use his brain but it's really because they, for the first time, saw their own "fuck it we ball" mentality in a teenager, and thought "oh my god maybe that is like... super dangerous." like when a parent was younger and they partied a lot and sometimes got into dangerous situations and thought "this is normal" until they had a kid and they quickly realized "oh that's why my mom was insane."

that didn't make them any better, it just made them hypocrites. peter just doesn't know that because they act super responsible when he's around

[lesbianherald]

Congrats on having the most Kudosed JayVik fanfic on AO3 as of this writing.

you can't be serious oh my god

...i saw this in my inbox last night and promptly stared blankly at the wall for a good five minutes lmaoo.

so fucking floored/honored/touched etc. etc. i really really cannot emphasize how unfathomable that is to me.

of course, there are so many other fics that deserve that spot and it feels almost weird holding it considering what's out there. coming home has the advantage of being very long and being released at the exact right time with many chapters. not dismissing myself again don't yell at me. just saying there's a lot that comes into play, you know? 😭

i dont know i dont know. i'm feeling a lot of good things but I'm bad at being online and talking about this stuff !! I DONT KNOW!! just thank you thank you thank you <3

wild times. whatthe fuck?

here are some images.

[14dayswithyou]

I'm going to be a little evil :3c /silly

*I have stolen all of their headwear, leaving only FROGGY HAT in his closet.*

"Boy it sure is chilly today. Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay [REDACTED]?"

✦゜ANSWERED: I believe in froggy hat [REDACTED] supremacy 🖤🐸

He knew. Of course he knew. [REDACTED]'s security system alerted him the second you stepped foot into his apartment, and it took the dark-haired hacker almost all of his willpower not to rush home and see you. But alas, he had other matters to attend to and messes to clean up here. Things he couldn't risk putting on hold, lest he pay the consequences for them later.

So, [REDACTED] settles for watching you through his cracked phone screen as you try to sneak your way around his apartment. They didn't really understand why you felt the need to be so secretive; you knew your boyfriend would be out for the day, you had his spare keycard and access to the entire 14th floor, and [REDACTED] had made it explicitly clear early on in the relationship that everything he owned was yours completely. Nothing was off limits to you, and that included every inch of his living space.

...And even himself.

Curiously, they watch with keen interest as you quietly slide the door to his walk-in closet open and take in your surroundings once more — making sure that you really were alone in his dimly-lit bedroom. But barely a moment passes before you stride in with a newfound purpose, unzip your backpack, and begin to stash all of his caps and beanies inside.

Well, alright then. If you decided he no longer needed those items, then so be it. He was never one to deny you anything.

But in retrospect, you were honestly doing [REDACTED] a favour. He genuinely didn't really need those items in his possession anymore — especially considering how he had no real reason to conceal his identity from you after all these years of being together.

He could never forget about that pivoted moment in time when you opened up to your beloved hacker about his rather... intense need to watch over you 24/7. And after you had scolded him multiple times for stalking you from darkened corners and alleyways outside your apartment complex, [REDACTED] had all but tried to change his ways. To better themselves for you.

After all, you deserved nothing less.

Glancing back at his phone once more, [REDACTED] takes in every little movement you make as you continue to tuck away his belongings; down to the turn of your head and the flex in your muscles. Not a single twitch or glance goes unnoticed under his watchful gaze — and had the dark-haired man not been so enraptured by your ministrations — he surely would've noticed that it was just about time for him to start packing his tools up and head home.

Home, in time for the date you had planned for the evening.

But the way you purposefully moved around his closet had [REDACTED] in a trance. You were extremely methodical about the things you were swiping from his shelves; neatly packing away all of the headgear, earmuffs, and scarves on display (and even the ones hidden within the depths of his drawers!). Yet... One single item remained in the aftermath of your wake.

Atop one of the lone shelves in the corner, it sits, isolated from the rest of its kind. Worn out yet well loved; it was no more than a novelty item your boyfriend had originally won for you from a crane game. But even after their constant insistence that you should keep it, you rebutted it all by saying it'd look better on him instead — all while pushing the cute, froggy hat back into his hands with a teasing smile.

("If you keep bleaching your hair like that," his real name falls from your lips like sweet nectar, "All of your hair will fall out. When that happens, you can use this to keep your bald head warm!"

"...When that happens? Hmph. You're gettin' cheeky." With a smile of his own, your boyfriend reaches out to gently pinch your cheek. "I haven't touched m'hair in ages.")

So after watching you be so meticulous with the items you were "robbing", the hacker couldn't help but wonder what your main motive was. Why leave that silly, little frog hat alone unless... Did you want him to wear it? You knew [REDACTED] would never say no to you — let alone to a frivolous request — but admittedly, they did find it rather endearing to watch you put in all that effort just for him.

Just like how he used to be... Back before you opened the curtains of his life and brought sunshine into his heart.

Gone are the days of "Ren", when [REDACTED] had to snoop around your apartment just to get any sort of inclination of what your type and interests might be. No longer did [REDACTED] have to "borrow" some of your old clothing to keep himself company on lonely nights; to put them over his pillow and pretend like it was you he was holding close to his chest. He no longer had to steal your presents and tokens out of spite and jealousy — only to return them days later once they noticed how upset it made you.

Too caught up in reminiscing about the past, [REDACTED] had almost missed your swift getaway from his bedroom. Living up to your nickname, you glide down the staircase and across his foyer as if you sprouted angel wings on your back and stroll into the elevator, before closing the door and pulling out your phone.

And just like clockwork, [REDACTED]'s camera feed gets replaced by the bright red and green call buttons that shake and taunt him at the bottom of the screen — alongside the personalised caller photo of you smiling towards the sunset ocean with [REDACTED]'s jacket atop your shoulders. The dark-haired man leaves no room for pause before he's swiping his finger across the screen and eagerly anticipating the sound of your voice.

You greet him in that casual, nonchalant tone of yours, and [REDACTED] had to resist the urge to start recording the call — to save the addictive timbre of your voice for when he needs to hear it the most.

"Man... It sure is chilly today, don't you think?"

There's the familiar sound of tacky elevator music playing in the background, and part of [REDACTED] thinks you're purposefully calling him right now to let him in on your (not so) secret escapades... To let them know where you are.

Or perhaps you were already aware that he knows, if the way you were glancing up at the elevator camera was anything to go by.

Regardless, you don't give away any other telling signs as your beloved hacker watches you through the camera. Your bag is still carefully slung over a shoulder, while one of his old, black university caps received the pleasure of being fiddled with in your hand. Your voice returns once more, and it causes a grin to form on his lips.

"Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay?"

There's a newfound teasing lilt in your tone, which has [REDACTED] latching on to your every word with bated breath and scrambling for a reply.

"'Course. Wouldn't miss our date for the world. 'N make sure y'stay warm too, angel." Without missing a beat, he easily takes his place in your little game. "Wouldn't wanna misplace your jacket 'n get cold now, would we?"

Your pixelated smile on the screen gives everything away.

You hear the unmistakable sound of [REDACTED]'s sports motorbike before you see it; watching the corner of your street as he appears from the darkness like a phantom.

And like the gentleman that he is, [REDACTED] doesn't make you stray far from the safety of the streetlamp either. The moment your boyfriend pulls up in front of you, one of his large hands reaches around your waist to draw you near (almost as if he'd gone years without being in your presence), while the other makes quick work of the latch of his helmet. In one swift motion, he pulls it off and rests it against the tank—

Only to reveal that cute, pastel green frog hat sitting atop his head.

He can't help but smile when you do; clearly pleased that he went through with your silly request. At that, you let out a low hum of appreciation as you lean against your boyfriend's chest, and [REDACTED] returns the favour by bending down and pressing a chaste kiss against the crown of your head as well.

"...Think y'could give this unworthy prince another kiss, love?" Your beloved boyfriend leans in closer until your lips are millimetres away from touching, "Otherwise I might stay cursed t'live in this froggy form forever."

[girlsdads]

https://www.tumblr.com/girlsdads/762007245755170816

It looks like daniel is peeing

em!!! you put this in my brain and i promptly had a crisis, so of course i had to give Max that same crisis, and somehow this became 1.3k 🫡

cw: (consensual?) voyeurism, romanticized peeing

Practice gets red-flagged early on. Max doesn’t see who is in the barrier as he slowly passes, just knows it isn’t Daniel. He’d been assured of that down his radio almost instantly, though he hadn’t asked. He thinks it must be team protocol to tell him this, that it’s not his teammate in the totaled car. Still, Max flushes bone-deep, feeling too exposed, too obvious. Feeling like they know, everyone must know, his brain turns to goop around Daniel and he never catches himself in time.

He trails Daniel to his driver’s room anyway, knowing how it looks. Daniel grins over his shoulder at Max, starts skipping ahead, makes Max chase him. Warmth blooms in Max’s belly. He may be always following behind Daniel, but Daniel is always looking back.

Daniel shrugs his race suit off his shoulders, lets it hang open around his trim waist. The humidity has stamped dark patches on his white fireproofs where he’s started to sweat through. Max closes the door behind himself and stands there awkwardly, trying to think of something to say that will make Daniel laugh, trying not to make direct eye contact with Daniel’s sweaty armpits, lest he shove Daniel against the wall and stick his nose there.

What happens instead is much, much worse.

Daniel is making a beeline to the bathroom, thumbs hooking into the elastic over his flat pelvis. Max’s vision tunnels, the air in the room seeming to close in around him with a swoosh.

“What are you doing?” He hears himself ask, stupidly.

It’s obvious what Daniel is doing. He’s shimmying his hips side to side as he nears the toilet, wiggling the Nomex down. He’s left the door wide open. He stops and smiles at Max, blinding. “Gotta drain the snake, as they say.”

Who is saying this other than you, Max wants to shoot back, knows he should match Daniel’s cheeky tone, rib him a little then leave the fucking room like a normal person. He hears the wet pop of his own bottom lip dropping open, feels the weight of the words against his larynx, but is struck completely dumb watching Daniel pull out his flushed, soft cock.

Max has of course seen Daniel’s dick before, it would probably be more weird if he hadn’t, like he was purposely trying not to. But the handful of other times have only been glimpses in his periphery, nothing like this. Like this, close range and staring openly because Daniel knows Max is there and still he didn’t close the door, Max can see everything.

The double-stacked waistband of his briefs and fireproofs is tucked up snug under his balls. Max can see where the dark, stubbly hairs are starting to grow back, on his sac and around the base of his cock. Daniel has joked before, about manscaping, but to see the evidence of it like this is dizzying. Max wants to go to his knees and pull each ingrown hair free with his teeth.

Daniel holds himself loosely in his left hand, the ruddiness of his shaft clearly visible through the gaps between knucklebones. The head is peeking out past the circle of his index finger and thumb, fat and flushed a little darker than the rest of him. Even soft, his cock looks heavy and full. Max’s mouth floods with saliva and he sucks it back with his cheeks pinched in, hoping Daniel won’t hear the wet slurp.

His skin feels hot. He’s stuck like an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun, his insides incinerating as he watches an arc of piss flow from the gorgeous tip of Daniel’s cock, noisily splashing into the bowl.

Daniel groans, his chin bobbing down toward his chest like someone cut the string that was holding his head upright. Piss hisses out of him, harder now, like he’s pushing it. It is so loud and the walls are thin—anyone lingering nearby must be able to hear, to know. Max wishes he could put up a forcefield, shelter them both inside where only Max can hear the sounds Daniel’s body makes.

It is all over so quickly. The stream trickles to a stop and then Daniel is shaking off the last little dribbles before he’s tucking himself away. Max feels a pang in his chest like grief—he hadn’t finished mentally cataloguing every angle of this moment, needs the image 3D printed into his brain so he can remember forever. Daniel will probably never speak to him again after this, will certainly not let Max anywhere near his bare cock once he turns and sees—Max is hard.

Daniel is shrugging back into the shoulders of his race suit and Max is standing there tenting his own, mortifyingly obvious. Max braces for whatever awkward joke Daniel will try to make to mask his disgust, as he faces Max finally.

He watches Daniel notice. He watches his eyes go slightly bigger and rounder, watches his jaw tick like he’s going to drop it. His gaze feels like a physical weight. Max’s dick throbs once, twice. There is no way Daniel cannot see.

Daniel says nothing, in the end. He smiles at Max, easy as anything, as if Max isn’t a complete freak of nature with a boner from watching his teammate take a piss. He even claps Max on the shoulder as he passes on his way out the door, doesn’t seem to catch how Max sways, knees wobbly, under his touch.

And then Max is alone in Daniel’s driver’s room. Alone and hard and—fuck, a realization burns through him—Daniel didn’t flush.

Max lurches forward before he can stop himself. His foot catches on some part of the floor and he stumbles, nearly going to his knees right there in front of the toilet.

It should be mostly clear, with how they are supposed to be staying hydrated, but apparently Daniel is not doing a very good job. Max has to steady himself with one hand on the wall as he stares down into the bowl, dazed. The water is tinged an unmistakable yellow. It hits Max viscerally, that Daniel has bodily functions and that he did one of those right in front of Max, was comfortable enough to not care if he saw. It’s unbearably intimate in a way that Max can’t think too hard about or he’ll forget how to drive his car, probably. He thinks, wildly, that he wishes he could live inside Daniel’s body, surrounded by all the microscopic things that make him him. He wants to kiss every single one of Daniel’s cells and thank them for keeping him alive.

Even more wildly—he wants to massage his bladder from the inside, tell it he’s sorry it had to get so full, that Daniel should never have to hold it for too long, that he could always if he cannot wait tell Max to go to his knees, and Max would, anywhere, tip his head back and open up for everything Daniel has to give—

Max rips his layers off, feeling frenzied. Elastic stretches around his thighs as he squats lower, his cock now leaking bare over the bowl full of Daniel’s pee. He had foregone underwear earlier, the crotch of his fireproofs now absolutely soaked through with precome. It will be cold and sticky around his cock and balls when he gets back in the car, he will have to drive again and feel it and he will think about Daniel and his dehydrated piss and the sound he made when he let go—

Max comes, shaking, aiming his cock so that it splatters into the bowl, milky white swirling with yellow. Max and Daniel together, like it should be always.

[corviiids]

ive never watched h2o just add water but im australian so close enough and i desperately want to know more about death note h2o au. how does light becoming a mermaid make him able to kill people does he just like start grabbing people and drowning them. does L keep coming up with convoluted ways to reveal that light is a mermaid (i would like to know if someone attempts to push him into a pool at some point because i think thats how h2o mermaids work like you. just add water™ and they turn into a mermaid right)

(this ask is referring to my tags on this post)

#i just looked in my notes and found a death note au of that australian mermaid show h2o just add water#in this au light becomes a mermaid and immediately uses his mermaid powers to fucking kill people#and also hes australian#and becuase he's australian hes not called kira#his murders were first noticed on nobby beach (queensland) (australia)#so hes called the ghost of nobby beach#or nobbo for short#because hes australian#does anyone want or need australian mermaid murder death note au called nobbo? why did i write this#when will i finish it

thank you for your interest and everyone else who has shown interest in death nobbo. this is a post about death nobbo, my death note h2o just add water au which takes place in queensland australia

they are Australian and live on the gold coast and light is a uni student who becomes a mermaid. because he is a normal person he realises this is his opportunity to kill people. he also has a pretty, shiny tail.

L is a detective whose attention is drawn to this weird string of drownings in Queensland, Australia. he comes down to investigate.

to answer your actual question:

light drowns people by waiting for them to go surfing or swimming or whatever and then flipping their boards etc and dragging them at top speed into a rip. he holds them down or tangles them up so they can't stick their arms up for lifeguards

L thinks it's sus that all these experienced beachgoers are making mistakes like this and that nobody's managed to call a lifeguard in time. a couple of lifeguards have reported seeing a bit of a commotion where victims are drowning, but get out there too late, and it seems like all of them are physically not able to hold their arms up

here are the rest of my notes in the planning doc and some excerpts:

L doesn't enrol in UQ (is light more of a QUT bitch) but does just like, show up? maybe he gives a talk? i think light is studying law because i want to be self fucking indulgent. so maybe L (via screen) gives a lecture for criminal justice students and starts asking people what they think about the nobbo murders. someone's like so you think it's definitely murder and not just people drowning? L is like you're a beach city. drownings aren't uncommon, but this many drownings from people who are all familiar with the ocean terrain and beach safety makes it very unlikely.

(translator's note: UQ is university of queensland, QUT is queensland university of technology)

He picks light out from the audience because he's already profiled him and they have a discussion

later on L shows up physically at the cafe where light works and asks if he'd like to go swimming. while light is working on how to get out of that one, L goes, oh no, I've forgotten my beach wear. let's go play tennis instead.

lights like internal monologue there's a surf shop next door. light yagami would probably just offer to lend L a rashie or say they can go next door to pick one up. if I take this out, will he thinks I'm suspicious? does he think I'm nobbo? but I can't go swimming or he'll realise the truth.

(translator's note: 'rashie' is aussie slang for 'rash guard' or 'rash shirt' and it's swimwear that is a shirt)

while light is freaking out, L is like, actually there's a mini golf place near mermaid beach I really want to try, so let's go swimming another time. light's like well okay

so they go have a gay game of mini golf. l asks light how mermaid beach got its name and if he thinks mermaids are real. they discuss nobbo.

why did i name him nobbo

misa is light's coworker btw. at some point she also becomes a mermaid and light has to stop her rom exposing them both because she is not very careful

light entered the pool alone so got all three powers - hydrokinesis, cryohydrokinesis and thermocryokinesis

and here's. fuckin, whatever

also the only important line in this au

[psychemochanight]

It’s so funny to think that for the longest time, Dick was probably the youngest/only child hero that the JL dealt with. It’s like when someone in a group of twenty year olds has a kid and that kid kind of becomes part of the group and goes everywhere with them and unofficially is the group’s collective kiddo. Like even as an adult, those original JL heroes probably still see Dick as “their kid” but also respect him more than any other hero his age. Must of also but them like a brick to see Dick “grow up” lol

I honestly love the trope of Dick being the baby of the League as the first child hero HAHA

I've only read one one-shot about this and I'm so sorry there aren't more, because I also love the idea of them all being like his uncles and aunts.

I imagine more than one feeling this "proud parent" feeling for his son when Dick becomes the leader of several teams 🫶

Like, that's their boy.

(He can probably kick some of their asses, but hey, he's still their boy).

[naffeclipse]

Talk about your monster husband ocs coward (affectionate❤️)

Everyone, the tumblr user themeeplord is bullying me (affectionate <3)!!

You have no idea how normal I am about my monster OCs. They're so lovely just let me—ahhh!

Hawthorn is a Mothman monster. His wings are based on the garden tiger moth and he is so fluffy! He has a thick fuzz on his neck and chest and is a warm, cuddlebug. He also possesses bright orange eyes that pierce the darkness and startle the unfortunate late-night hikers or anyone piercing into the woods after midnight.

He has a thing for hanging out in the thick woods near where the MC lives. Wherever he goes, bad omens follow. He really shouldn't be near MC—he knows he'll be the death of his precious little human, but he can't help it. He's drawn to the MC like a moth to a flame (heheh). He's delightful and gentlemanly, but don't let that fool you. He's got a possessive stretch a mile wide and does not take kindly to anyone giving the MC looks or reaching out for a too-familiar touch. He will bristle and buzz, and fly swift and silent through the darkness to chase after anyone to ensure the MC stays all to himself. He is a bad omen, after all.

Grease is an oil demon! He feeds off of fear, literally, and delights in terrifying people in the night. His body is slick and iridescent, and he is constantly dripping black goo from his person. He is capable of shifting his form to hide in a puddle, slink underneath doors, or bubble through a crack in a broken window. He's got wicked sharp teeth, and eyes like a tiger but with a pale, unsettling blue color. He possesses tendrils on his head that constantly drip and a long, slick tail that he can use to grab MC by the ankle. He's terribly seductive and charming, terrifying but mischievous. He likes to say 'boo' just to watch MC jump. Of course, he's not all tang and salt. He's got a sweet side that rouses in a protectiveness over MC. He's possessive, sure, and he's marked his claim with the oil stains on MC's work apron, but he's got an ooey-gooey center of sweetness that MC occasionally finds when he blushes at a stray touch or a nice comment about him.

Calmo 91, otherwise just called Calmo, is a robot. Constructed in the 90s with a box TV screen head to match, he has bright yellow optics in the screen face along with thick wires falling behind his head in a ponytail-like fashion. He is cool and difficult to read but wickedly intelligent and learning much about humans and affections. His body is a thin endoskeleton with plastic matt gray coverings that give peeks of blue, red, and yellow wires at his metallic joints. He's got a mysterious past the MC is attempting to unravel that he truly wishes the MC would leave be. He's got much to learn about technology but he quickly figures out how to connect to the MC's phone for texting, phone calls, and other useful things of course, like keeping tags on where MC is and monitoring MC's heart rate. Useful tools. Modern technology. Living in the MC's house, he gets to spend more domestic time with the human he decided is kind and generous, but the MC occasionally finds him at the foot of the bed in the darkness, his yellow optics strangely switched to red until the MC says his name and his optics revert back to yellow again.

[giddlygoat]

if you’re able to stylize sportaflop,i wonder how you’d stylize my boy stingy ✨✨

also what do you think of stingy?

stingy is REALLY fun to draw. but, i’m not surprised that i enjoy it, because i’ve always loved drawing dapper dressed characters lol. in fact, he was one of the most fascinating characters to me when i was a kid just for that reason. i also remember being put off by his inability to share, but i don’t think that stopped little me from having the tiniest crush on him. nowadays i would simply like to have a talk with his parents because he needs some serious attitude adjustments 😭

[nightmarearian]

yk, I want Bludhaven’s Nightwing and Gotham’s Nightwing to be different.

In Gotham, obviously there are. A lot more people. There, he is “the nice one” (compared to the others).

In Bludhaven? Blud-worse crime rate than Gotham-Haven, managed only by Nightwing? There’s no fuckin way.

Personally I don’t think it’s. Mainly a conscious decision or smth? Just he does more in Bludhaven and maybe ends up being generally less cheery? Or smth. He’s more willing to be (externally) tired with Bludhaven than he would be with Gotham.

Idk, smth for him to really embody the Terror of Bludhaven title yk? Nightwing is Bludhaven’s Batman; you know like, before robin and everything. He works too hard and he’s something to be scared of. He is Bludhaven’s Batman - just a bit more flippy & quippy (and a lot more friends).

[overtake]

Hi!!!! I can't get over how much I love this fic and I was thinking about the first time they meet in the locker room at the practice rink. You wrote "Max looks up, cheeks flushing in surprise to find someone else in there. His eyes go big at seeing Daniel." and I was wondering if there's a chance we can read about Max's point of view sometime in the future ♥️ I would really love to read anything you want to share with us about this fic algjkshd ♥️

So late on answering this but I’d love to provide you with Max’s POV!

The first time Max talked to Daniel Ricciardo, Daniel was commanding attention in a cluster of hockey players at Max’s rookie season All-Star Game. To date, Max isn’t sure if his ears are just innately tuned to the frequency of his bright, honking laugh, or if his joy was truly louder than the announcement and subsequent crowd cheers for the start of the hardest shot competition.

Daniel’s helmet and gloves were carelessly abandoned somewhere. He was leaning his chin on the butt of his carelessly taped stick, and his curls were toeing the line between handsomly tousled and unruly. He was giving everyone who spoke his undivided attention, the bags under his warm brown eyes gently crinkling in time with his smiles. Max didn’t care that some annoying reporter kept trying to grab him over to the side for an interview. He had just wanted to know what it felt like to be in Daniel’s orbit.

Between Daniel and Lewis Hamilton was a space big enough for Max to worm his way into, and he didn’t care that he was crashing the conversation. Daniel wouldn’t care either, probably. Max knew lots of people who played with him, and everyone said the same gushing things about Daniel’s kindness.

Most of the guys just nodded at him and didn’t break their side conversations, but Daniel had flashed his bright white teeth at him. “Max Verstappen,” he said. He said Max’s name funny, more like Maksh Vershtappen, and grinned a little wider after Max scrunched his face up at it. “Nice of you to join us, but aren’t you in this competition?”

He nodded over at where Sebastian Vettel was lining up a shot. Max just shrugged. “Maybe if I hide in this circle, they won’t be able to find me.”

“Aw,” Daniel said. “Shucks, Verstappen. Too nice to show up Seb?”

“I could’ve been on a beach,” Max said mournfully. “And instead I am here.”

Daniel laughed again. He doled them out as easily as breathing, but Max still let himself glow at the reward of being its cause. “Normally people wait until at least year two to start complaining about the All Star Game.”

“Well, they keep saying I’m ahead of my peers, first overall pick and everythint,” Max joked. Daniel opened his mouth to respond — some chirp about Max being cocky, Max would’ve bet — but his name was being announced as the next competitor, and he was forced out of the circle to perform like a show pony for the crowd.

“Save my spot,” he told Daniel, who winked.

“Only if you win.”

Max had won, and by a solid few miles per hour over Seb’s previous record. By the time he returned to the circle, Daniel had been warbling some terrible version of the American anthem, and Lewis had kindly explained the Fergie backstory to him, and then Daniel darted off toward Sebastian before Max could grab his attention back and make the joke he’d been trying to formulate about winning.

Up until the day Daniel walked into the Leafs practice facilities, Max never spoke to Daniel again, but he’d remembered the way Daniel’s attention had made him feel.

He’d mentally separated sex and hockey long ago. It wasn’t even a conscious choice he needed to make. He was in the locker room to win, and attraction was a distraction. He’d always known that he was into guys, as easily as he recognized that his name was Max and his eyes were blue, but that had nothing to do with hockey.

Hockey players weren’t a dating pool. A hockey team was an ecosystem so delicate that one chirp gone too far could throw off the entire chemistry of the team and lose them the season. The opponents were the guys trying to stop them from winning, and Max would be damned before he let there be a single earthly chance that he fucks one of them and they somehow use it against him to win. Thus, hockey and sex did not co-exist. It wasn’t even a consideration. Like his name, and his eyes, and being gay, it was a fact of life that Max never had to consciously think about.

Daniel was the first time his stomach flipped being nearby a hockey player, and he’d allowed himself the guilty pleasure of a youtube deep dive when it hit two weeks after the All Star Game and Daniel hadn’t left his mind. It resulted in a shame-ridden jerkoff session over bad commercial acting and an orgasm over a compilation of Ricciardo game-winners.

Daniel wasn’t even in the Leafs conference, Max had told himself after that first time. Max could have this. It wasn’t actually combining sex and hockey, and he’d still smash Daniel against the boards if he ever tried to get near Max’s puck.

Then Daniel was in Edmonton, still the other conference but in Max’s country, and everyone was calling it lights out on Daniel’s career. In the faceoff circle, face framed in orange fabric and dark circles, Max saw that all the free joy Daniel had once doled out had soured into pungent melancholy.

Max only had a few games against Daniel as an Oiler, but one stood out. It couldn’t have been more than two weeks before Daniel entered the assistance program, but there was a steely scrap of fight in his eyes that Max hadn’t seen in the past year and a half.

Max had won the only faceoff he had against Daniel that game, but Daniel stole the puck from him five seconds later in a motion so smooth that it slotted perfectly in the highlight reels Max had rabidly consumed and that everyone claimed were a ghost of Daniel past. He was focused on racing Daniel down the ice to try and prevent the breakaway, but his first thought when he heaved himself over the boards at the end of his shift was that he couldn’t fathom how anyone could consider Daniel done after a move like that.

He only understood when he heard their dipshit coach ream out Daniel a second later. It was a strain to hear from their bench, even with Zak’s loud-ass voice, but he was lecturing Daniel for attempting the shot. Zak was stabbing his stubby pointer at a whiteboard and screaming himself red to argue that Daniel should’ve passed to a guy that had been covered by two defencemen. The useless rookie he was referencing hadn’t even caught the rebound of Daniel’s shot on net, but fucking genius idea: don’t let your open guy go for the goal that Esteban had stopped only by the luckiest glance off his goalie stick.

Max understood, then. Daniel’s talent wasn’t gone. It’d just been suffocated. He was trying to change his game to conform to a system of hockey that constrained him to a set of plays. They weren’t allowing him to trust his gut, to capitalize on unexpected chances and make the right plays. Daniel would leave, or they would trade him, and Max knew he’d be better for it.

And then it was June, and Max had a surprise call from Cyril and a contact card for Daniel Ricciardo saved into his phone. He let himself be excited instead of apprehensive, even though letting himself combine hockey and sexual desire, all by using the desperate justification that the guy was a conference away, was clearly Max daring the universe to make this happen.

Max is here in his locker room in the heart of summer, and Daniel Ricciardo walks in with a slight stumble of hesitancy that betrays his uncertainty at finding Max in his new surroundings.

He looks back to the guy that keeps the sun a willing hostage in his smile. His curls are long and shiny, his under eyes no longer hollowed, and Max can see muscle on his body where there was once only bone. Max is struck dumb with the reckoning that his stomach still churns the same way at the sight of Daniel, even when he’s picking at his cuticles and looking the closest to nervous that he’ll probably let himself show.

This, Max grimly considers, could maybe be a problem.

[erinwantstowrite]

the newest doodle has me in tears bc

Barb: i think bruce is contagious. my dad just brought home a child who’s calling himself “a partner in (solving) crime”

Bruce *sweating* : there is a logical explanation to this

the solving is in parenthesis because peter varies from crime solver to crime causer at any point in time