#anyways… i thought this one shot was pretty.

[jarofstyles]

Juno

Based off of the song Juno, I tried my hand at writing song inspired one shots again! this one is filthy but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways.

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WC- 3.5k

Warnings- heavy breeding kink, cum play, soft dom H, slight restraining, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up yall)

It had been a long fucking day.

Being the boss wasn't for the weak, apparently. Harry had been through the ringer today especially. People unable to communicate, an overly long and exastrubsating meeting, having to terminate an employee, all of it had made him itchy for the day to end- only for him to have to stay late to fix a problem. He had felt guilty texting his girlfriend that he was going to be home late, telling her his day had been a bit hellish.

Thankfully, he had been blessed with one of the most incredible women in the world, who assured him she was fine, not to worry about her and she would see him when he got home- but he hadn’t expected just an incredible sight to greet him as he opened the bedroom door.

It was like a vision he’d see in the most incredible of dreams.

Y/N was stretched out on the bed, her head propped up on a pile of pillows. She was wearing a tiny, frilly pink babydoll nightgown that barely covered her assets and showed off her legs- god, her fucking legs. The delicate fabric shimmered in the soft lighting, catching Harry's eye and drawing his gaze downward. Dragging his eyes down the perfectly wrapped present, he counted every single one of his blessings.

“Hi.” She spoke softly, clambering up to her knees and crawling to the end of the bed. “I missed you today, H.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he watched her crawl towards him, his eyes taking in the delicate nightgown that flowed over her curves in all the right places, riding up her thighs as she sat on her knees waiting for him. He felt a surge of love wash over him, his exhaustion melting away at the sight of her. Crossing the room in long strides, he met her at the end of the bed. "I missed you too, baby," He murmured. “What’s all this, hm?”

“I got a package today. This was what was in it.” She shrugged, running her hand down her waist to show it off. “I figured you had a rough day, but you like when you see the pretty things I buy. I thought…. Maybe this would make you happy.” Her hands ran over his chest, peering up at him through her lashes. “I wanted to make you happy. I love you so much.”

His eyes softened, warmth spreading through his chest as he took in her words. She really had no idea how much she affected him, how much he absolutely adored her. Reaching out, his fingers brushing against the delicate, shimmery fabric, slowly running it up her thighs until it bunched around her waist. "It makes me very happy, my sweet girl." He murmured, his voice raspy as he took in the sight of her bare hips and thighs. "Come here." Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he urged her to straddle his lap, which she did without complaint.

“I know it’s hard to be the boss all day.” Her voice was silky as she ran her finger through his hair, the gel keeping it back having failed hours ago. The man looked slightly disheveled, and that did something to her. “I know you need to come home and have a soft place to land. You’re so good to me. I brag about you to my friends all the time. About everything.” Even the not so appropriate bits. She couldn’t help it! “I want to be the one to help you make your fantasies come true. You pay the bills here, so…” Shrugging her shoulders, she bit down on her glossy lip. “I figured I’d give you something pretty to come home to.”

Harry's large hands palmed her ass, squeezing lightly as she straddled him, her warmth pressing against him. Her words, her kindness, her thoughtfulness, it all made him want to be a better man. She was the soft place he landed every day, his happy place. He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as her fingers combed through his disheveled hair. “You are… incredible. Fuck me. Can’t believe you’re real.”

“Do you like it?” Pressing her lips to the corner of his, she hooked her finger in his shirt and tugged the half undone tie to the ground. “What I put on for you? I know you like to say M’your little angel. Figured this was a little angelic for you.”

He growled softly in approval, his hands tightening on her ass as her fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. "It's perfect, just like you." He sighed, his voice hoarse with the amount he had yelled today, and his desire for the girl on his lap. His hands roamed over her curves, his touch gentle but greedy. The man could never get enough of her. He loved how she would let him have his way with her, no matter what he desired. Nothing and no one could compare to how she made him feel, playing into every base level instinct he had. "My little angel... Dressed like that... S’almost unfair."

Y/N let out a giggle, loving the effect she had on him. Knowing he was such a powerful man and yet he had a weakness in her was more arousing than she could have prepared herself for. She loved being his soft spot, his little angel. “It is fair, though. I wore it just for you. And I decided…” This was the part she had been nervous about all day. The decision she had made. She wanted him to lock her down. “I know we aren’t married yet, but I don’t think I can let you wait any longer to give you what you want.” Brushing her nose against his, she spoke against his lips. “I think m’gonna let you get me pregnant.”

Harry's breath hitched, his eyes widening for a moment before they filled with a heat that almost burned her. "Y/N..." He growled, his voice low and loaded. "Are you sure? We can wait if you're not ready." Even as he said the words, his hands tightened on her, pulling her closer against him. He wanted it, he wanted her, like this, forever. When she nodded to agree that she was absolutely sure, he let out a deep groan, eyes wild as they searched her own. " Say it again. Please."

“I want you….” She purred, leaning in so their chests were pressed together. “To get me pregnant. Knock me up.” Smearing their lips together, she sucked a soft kiss to his bottom lip before murmuring again. “Put a baby in me.”

A shudder ran through him at her words, his control snapping. "Fuck, Angel..." He groaned, crashing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, claiming her, tasting her. She tasted so fucking good, so much like his. He couldn’t get enough. One hand tangled in her hair while the other slid down to grip her thigh, squeezing, owning. Pulling her down fully, he ground up against her, letting her feel how hard she made him. It had started the moment he walked in to see her splayed out on the bed, but this was something else. His weakness. "You want my baby?"

“Uh-huh.” She giggled against his mouth, turning it into a whimper as she felt his cock rub up against her. Since coming to the decision she had been wet, aching for him to actually do it. She wanted to keep him, lock him down in every sense of the word. Be the only one for him. She wanted to be the mother of his children, all of them. There was no patience for waiting. The ring could come later- she had known he got one anyway. “I want to be yours so badly. I need it.”

"Shit, baby, you already are.." Standing up and with her in his arms, he turned them over and set her down on the mattress with her back against it, looking at her with intense eyes. "M’going to give you my baby, my everything. You're going to be so fucking pregnant with my child, everyone's going to know it." Fumbling with his belt, he tossed it down and hurriedly stepped out of his trousers, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders as he watched her sit back up.

Her hands went for his briefs, tugging them down with shaky fingers. Y/N was just as needy for it as he was, and it showed. He let his head fall back, a low groan rumbling in his chest as she wrapped her hands around his shaft and pumped slowly, leaning down to lick the tip. He twitched in her grasp, throbbing in her palm.

"That's it, baby..." He encouraged softly, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her head down, slowly thrusting into her warm, wet mouth. "Just like that. Get it nice n’wet for me." He pulled out, his breathing heavy.

She came back up for air, her hand pumping him slowly as she looked up at him with wide, eager eyes. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Stick out your tongue." He watched intently as she obeyed, baring her neck and tilting her head back. He wrapped a hand around the base of his erection and slowly pumped, his eyes rolling back as he grew harder. "Thatta girl..." He guided the tip to her lips, rubbing the head on her bottom lip.

He fed her his length slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the hot sensation of her mouth wrapping back around him. He pulled back and thrust into her mouth again, his hands tangling in her hair and guiding her head. "Look at me, Y/N. Keep your eyes on me."

Her eyes fluttered open, her lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks as she looked up at him, her mouth stretched around his thick girth. She hummed against him, eyes watering as he thrust further into her mouth. She looked so good, taking him like that, and he couldn’t help but groan, his pace quickening. "That's my good girl. Such a sweet little thing f’me."

He gently thrust in and out of her mouth, his hands cradling her head. "Relax your jaw for me, Y/N... that's it... jus’ like that." He praised her softly, his voice a husky whisper. "You're doing so well, m’love." He thrust a little deeper, pulling back quickly when she gagged slightly, his eyes flashing with concern. "Careful, careful. Breathe through your nose, baby, you can take it… Y’know how to do it."

She breathed in through her nose as he instructed, her chest rising and falling. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from the push but she didn't pull away, determined to please him. Her hands came up to grip his thighs for balance as he continued to slowly thrust. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked gently, her tongue swirling around the tip each time he pulled out.

He was absolutely stunning, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his chest heaving with each breath. The sight of his strong thighs tensing and flexing under her hands, the way his abs clenched... it was almost too much. She wanted to memorize every detail. She needed to be his, forever. His skin was flushed and damp with exertion, his hair disheveled. He was the picture of raw, masculine beauty. And he was all hers..

It was adorable, how she whimpered at the loss of his cock as he pulled it from her mouth, but he needed to have her fully. Claim her in the way she had promised to let him. “Mmm, shit. Baby, you’re too good. S’okay.” He panted, pulling her up by her arms and crushing his lips against hers. "I need inside, love. I can't...I can't wait any longer. I need t’put my baby in you."

She nodded eagerly against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he adjusted her against the fluffy duvet. Never in her life had she been this fucking horny, but that was simply the way the man tended to affect her. Her legs spread wide for him, her heels digging into the bed as she watched him move to hover over her. Positioning himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips firmly, admiring the beauty that was his angel underneath him. "Y/N...look at me, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me, okay?" His voice was gentle, loving, but his face was contorted with raw, unbridled desire.

"Need you t’watch while I knock you up." He grit out, pressing forward and filling her with one long thrust. Letting out a low groan as he bottomed out, his eyes fluttered shut in rapture. "Oh, fuck." He hissed, reveling in the feel of her wrapped around him. This was what he needed, the remedy to his long day. Always her. He stilled for a moment, giving her time to adjust to his size. It was a stretch, and he knew it. "Okay?" he asked softly, his hips flexing forward slightly.

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes were glued to his, wide and glassy as he filled her completely. The sensation of being so full, so stretched, was overwhelming. It never got old. When she got tipsy and slightly loose lipped, it was one of the things she alluded to with her friends- how big he was, how fulfilled he made her. She could feel every thick inch of him inside her, his heavy balls pressing against the plush of her ass. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size, her walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to keep him inside. "S’so good.”

He began to move, slow and deep at first, savoring the exquisite drag of her silken walls. "That's it, baby... take it. Take every inch of me." He whispered, his hips rolling in a hypnotic rhythm. One hand slid down to rub tight circles over her clit as he fucked into her. "Gonna fill this sweet cunt. Pump you full of me."

His cock stretched her, a dull, delicious ache as he drove into her again and again, the wet sounds of the thrusts filling the room. He angled his hips, searching for that perfect spot inside her. He always did. He loved to make her go crazy, see her buck and cry out when he got it. They fit together so well, sometimes it was hard to believe they’d found each other naturally. When did find it he heard it, music to his fucking ears. The borderline frantic cry as she grabbed his arms where they held her hips, her back arching off the bed. "Yes, there! Just like that." Her nails dug into his forearms as he hit her spot dead on with each thrust.

His balls slapped against her ass with each deep stroke, the sound echoing through the room. “Yeah, I found my spot. Didn’t I?” He crooned, smirk on his face as he kept it up. If there was anything he allowed himself to be smug about, it was how good he made his woman feel. “S’good, I know. Hitting right where my girl needs. God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. Dressing up for me…” He grit his teeth. “Tellin’ me I can finally give you a baby. You love me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I do. Shit, Harry.” She cried out, her voice high-pitched as her inner walls tightened around his thick shaft. She could barely think, let alone speak, with him filling her so perfectly. “Y-Yes, I love you so much- Please, please, please, please!” She chanted, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as he continued to fuck into her sopping cunt. “Please what, baby?” He taunted, looking down at her beautiful form. It was the prettiest picture only he got to see. “What d’you want?”

“I-I want you to-” She gasped as he hit her spot again, her toes curling in ecstasy. “I want you to knock me up, H. Please knock me up, get me pregnant like y’wanted. I don’t care, just wanna feel you inside me, I want my tummy to grow, I want all of it.” She pleaded, tugging him down to her as she felt her eyes water, looking up at him. “Please, baby- please, please.”

His face contorted as he looked down at her, love and possession shining in his eyes. "You're really going t’let me breed you like that, huh? All for me?" He grit out with clenched teeth, his hips snapping forward as his hands gathered her, wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head. "Y’want to carry my baby, grow round with it inside you?"

"Yes, yes, yes." She chanted with a lovedrunk smile on her face, her back arching as he took her harder. The new angle had him hitting impossibly deep. "Please Harry, I need it. Need you to fill me up, make me yours. I want everyone to know I'm your girl, carrying your baby." Her voice broke, overwhelmed with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm getting close."

"That's it, cum on my cock like a good girl." He growled, feeling her tighten around him like a vice. "Milk me, I'm gonna pump you full. Gonna flood this fertile little cunt with my cum." His balls drew up tight as he pounded into her relentlessly, the wet squelch of her arousal obscene in the room. "Fuck, m’close too. You want it baby?"

Y/N could barely speak as her orgasm took her faster than she had anticipated. It was his voice, his promise that took her there. The sensation was indescribable. Like being consumed, each hard thrust sending wave after wave of intense heat through her veins. She could feel every ridge and vein of his thick, pulsing length as it slid in and out of her slick hole. Her whole body was alight, every nerve ending on fire as he stretched her to the limit. The pressure built and built, her muscles tensing as the first waves of her release washed over her.

"Please, please... I want to feel you, inside me, filling me up. I want your baby, Harry. I want you to breed me." Her words were barely coherent, her mind fogged with desire as he continued to thrust into her, his powerful hips driving his thick cock home again and again. She could feel the heat of his body, the tautness of his muscles as he held back, intent on pouring into her just as she'd begged. “Wanna be the only one.”

“Shit.” He whined weakly, losing all resolve to hold on. Hearing her beg for it was the final straw on his composure. This was a day he had dreamed of, and she had so willingly handed it over to him. It was his turn to give it to her, just as he promised. “I’ll give it to you baby. Give you everything- only t’you. Fuck.” With a feral groan, he lost all control, slamming into her one final time as he erupted inside her. His hot, thick cum flooded her, painting her insides as he filled her to the brim. She could feel it pouring in, the warmth spreading through her belly as he continued to pump her full, his cock jerking and twitching inside her. “Take all of it.”

Her mouth parted on a silent 'O' as she felt him surge inside her, his warmth spreading through her. Her eyes fluttered closed as he released her hands, and her fingers immediately digging on his back as she found a way to cling to him, her legs wrapping around his waist to hold him closer. She didn’t want him to leave, wanted him to stay buried.

"That's it, baby... take it all." He encouraged softly, nuzzling her neck as he slowly thrust in and out, relishing in the feeling as he pulsed inside of her.

She moaned softly, her head tossing on the pillow. "It feels so warm, so good... S’so much inside of me. I love you so much." She whispered, a fucked out smile painting her lips. "I hope it takes."

Pulling out slowly, his cock glistened with them combined as he held her open, his load leaking out of her. The scene was absolutely filthy and everything he had hoped to see when they tried this. "Look at you... so full of my cum. So fucking perfect." He gently held her thigh open with one hand, his fingers on the other spreading her open to show off his work. "Look at how full you are, baby."

She whimpered, her eyes fluttering open as he displayed her to him. "Harry... It's so much. I can feel it dripping out of me. Don’t waste it." She whispered, her voice tiredly giddy. "We should try for round two... just to be sure, right?"

[novvabee]

Just imagine poly!marauders x reader who decides to go on a holiday trip together but when they arrive there is the classic one-bed-trope (or maybe two and they argue on who gets to share the bed with reader) and she’s all shy bc even though they live together she never spent a night with them in the same room, specially on the same bed!

(Btw, are you planning on getting them together?)

hehehe soooo... I am planning on it, but for right now I live for the pining and the wholesome moments without them being together. anyways here is part 9.

And They Were Roommates pt.9

Summary:reader and the boys go on a trip, one bed trope, it's cute

word count: 1.9k

You and the boys decided to go on a little weekend getaway. You all decided to go to some classic touristy spots like the zoo and aquarium, which the boys definitely loved, and a history museum, which for some reason really fascinated James and Sirius, they stopped at nearly every attraction and stared in awe, especially when it came to the dinosaur fossils. 

You chalked it up to them being typical boys and found it almost comical, they acted like they had never seen some of the stuff.

After a long day filled with fun, you were in need of a rest. Luckily, you and the boys had rented rooms at a hotel nearby, knowing that it would be too far a journey to go back home at the end of the day.

After a quick bite to eat at a cute little cafe, you and the boys made your way to the hotel. It was a short journey, just up the road from where you had been spending the whole day.

“I just don’t understand,” Sirius said while walking to the hotel, “Those paintings, they were pretty, but why were they in a museum? They didn’t even move.” 

You laughed and continued walking. “Of course they don’t move Siri, they’re paintings.” you replied. 

Sirius opened his mouth, looking like he was going to question you, but Remus nudged him and shook his head at Sirius, halting him from asking any more silly questions. 

You reached the lobby of the regal hotel you were to stay at. Remus told the three of you to wait, that he would check in and grab the keys. You hung back with Sirius and James and talked about all the fun animals you saw. James was recalling a particular shark that he liked when Remus returned to the group.

“Uh, small problem,” He started, making the three of you turn your attention to him, “There's been a mix up with the rooms.”

You furrowed your brows, what kind of mix up could there possibly be? You thought you booked everything correctly. “What do you mean ‘mix up’?” you asked.

Remus sighed. “Well uh, instead of two rooms with two beds each, there’s two rooms with one bed.”

“Oh,” you said. “That’s not a problem, we can share, right?” you looked at the other boys. They nodded in agreement.

“Ok, how do we want to split the rooms then?” Remus asked.

“I’ll go with Y/N.” James said in a rush.

Sirius looked at him and scoffed. “That is like calling dibs on someone, you can't-”

“I didn't call dibs on her, I just said-”James interrupted. They began talking over each other.

“-Look, personally, I think it’s just unfair if-”

“-shut up Sirius”

“James kicks in his sleep.” Sirius turned to comment to you.

“Do not!” James defended himself

“Yes you do! Tell that to all the bruises I have acquired over the years!” Sirius shot back at him.

“Maybe I kick because you toss and turn constantly-” James was interrupted again, this time by Remus.

“Boys,” he said calmly, having had to break up these types of arguments many times, “How about we let Y/N decide who she wants to room with, yeah?”

With that, all the attention was now directed at you. “Oh. I don’t mind, I can share with whoever,” you said, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings by picking one person over the other two. 

Remus sighed and turned to the other two boys. He muttered something to them and they all agreed by nodding, then broke into a game of stick and stones. This made you giggle, so incredibly childish of them, but so incredibly amusing to you. You thought for a moment that maybe they were playing to see who would be stuck with you, that maybe none of them actually wanted to share a bed with you. But this theory of yours was proven wrong when Remus was eliminated and swore at the other two. You giggled again.

James and Sirius continued until Sirius groaned and threw his head back, James laughing in victory. He swung an arm around you and said, “Looks like you’re stuck with me tonight, love.” James grabbed one room key from Remus, and started to lead you two to your room. 

Before you made it very far, Sirius whispered to you “I’m not joking he kicks.”

You smiled and bid Remus and Sirius goodnight before making your way to your room.

James, always the gentleman, carried your bag for you and opened the door for you when you reached the correct room. You shuffled in and took a look around. The room was quite big and luxurious. 

The bed was king sized, so you were a little more relieved. You walked in and plopped yourself right in the middle of it. James set your bag down and looked around the room as well. 

“Oh uh, I can sleep on the floor or something by the way. I’m sure there’s extra pillows and blankets in the closet.” He said.

You sat up and looked at him. “No! Don’t be ridiculous James, I’m not making you sleep on the floor.” you laughed. “Besides, there’s plenty of room for both of us in this bed.” you pat the spot next to you.

James was blushing but trying to play it cool. “Ok, as long as you’re ok…”

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled. He sat on the bed next to you.

“So is it true?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Is what true?” he asked back.

You laughed and replied “That you kick.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No… I mean maybe. How should I know I’m asleep.” he laughed.

“Have you and Sirius shared a bed a lot? I mean… for him to bring it up…” you said, trying to not make it seem like you were asking something too personal. You have seen them laying together often on the couch… you knew they were close and often brushed it off as something they did as friends, that they were just cuddling and affectionate. But know… know you weren’t too sure, with Sirius’s comment and all. Maybe they were more than friends…

James chuckled again and thought for a moment. Then he replied, “Yeah we have… when we were younger, in school, he would climb into my bed a lot when… well, Sirius doesn’t have a particularly great family. So when he would get sad or stressed or… I don’t know… if he’d have any feelings relating to it, he’d often climb in my bed. We’d talk about it, or sometimes just lay there, then eventually we would fall asleep.” he turned to you to continue. “Then when he was about 16, he ran away from home and came to live with me. For a while we only had one bed,” he laughed, “but we didn’t really mind. It wasn’t until Remus came to live with us that we all got our separate rooms.”

“Wait,” you said a bit confused, “Remus came to live with you too?”

James nodded. “Yeah, a little while after Sirius did. Remus also has… a complicated family history. So yeah… we’ve all shared beds but… I guess we just like to be close to each other.”

You felt so bad, so guilty for bringing it up. You thought that maybe… but it was actually much worse, sadder. “Oh…” you said, because that was really the only thing you could say. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring-”

“Oh no! It’s fine.” James stopped you. “We're all the better for it.” He smiled.

You nodded but still felt a little bad. You hopped up and told him you were going to shower quickly. He said alright and that he would find something to watch for the two of you. Showereng, you still felt awful for assuming that maybe they had slept together, when in reality, they were just boys who were affectionate, and… ugh.

You dried off and changed into some comfy clothes, stepping out into the cold bedroom.

James was already in some sleeping pants and a hoodie, leaning back on the headboard, staring at the tv screen. “I found two movies we could watch either Jurassic World or Mulan, but if I had to pick… I’d wanna watch Jurassic World.” he said, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“You really liked the dinosaur exhibit today didn’t you?” you laughed.

“I really liked the dinosaur exhibit.” he echoed and smiled at you, turning the movie on.

You climbed into bed right alongside him, also leaning against the headboard. You two watched the movie and talked for a while longer before either of you got tired. It was midnight when both of you decided to sleep, knowing that it would be an early morning.

“Y/N?” James’s voice sounded from beside you.

“Hmm” you answered, trying to get comfortable.

“Is it ok if I take my shirt off?” he asked.

You froze completely. James was incredibly fit and you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the thought of sleeping next to him shirtless. But it was just like him to ask before doing it, to make sure he wasn’t making you uncomfortable at all.

“U-uh yeah go for it.” you stammered. Thank god he had already turned off the lights or else he would see the red hue staining your face. 

He pulled off his hoodie and threw it across the room. You turned onto your side, away from him as you heard him say “Goodnight Y/N”.

“Goodnight,” you replied.

You couldn’t sleep immediately, the one reason being that you were under the AC, which, after being in the shower, made you so much colder. You tried to pull the comforter up more, but James turned to you.

“You alright, love?” he asked.

“Yeah, just cold.” you said, trying to keep your teeth from chattering. James got up and found his hoodie from where he threw it and handed it to you.

“Oh no,” you began to protest, but it was no use, he was already bunching it up over your head. You gave in and let him slip the warm fabric over your body.

“Better?” he asked.

“A little,” you said as he climbed back into bed, truthfully, it did help, but you were still slightly cold.

You felt the bed shift, then felt his arms around you. If you weren't blushing before, you definitely were now. You made to protest, to say that it was ok and that he didn’t have to but before you could get a word out James shushed you.

“Shh, I run very warm.” he said sleepily, and it was true. He was like a human furnace, like a heated blanket wrapped around you.

You smiled and curled up to get more comfortable. You must have accidentally brushed James’s leg while doing so because he let out a yelp then a laugh.

“Why are your feet so cold!” he whisper shouted, making you giggle and apologize.

“I run very cold.” you joked. 

You both layed there, getting warm and dozing off. You wished you could feel it every night, it was like the sun was shining perfectly on you, you could get used to this. But he was your roommate and you didn’t want to make anything weird between you all, even if that meant never feeling warm enough in bed again.

i hope this is good... idk. also james got what he wanted from last part lmao

Taglist💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts @enamoredwithbella @babymash @ilovejamespottersomuch @liszblog @sammyreid @kiaslily @idkman5335 @willowlovestheweasleys @lady-balem

[dreamdragonkadia]

a/n: Something something Percy and vacation, because we all know the poor guy deserves a break. For some reason, I have this entire short series of Percy and his partner in Hawaii floating around in my head. Surfboards, shaved ice, and a lot of sunburn jokes (because you know Nico would never let this go). Honestly, it’s the idea of him being both so in his element with the water and so hilariously out of his depth when it comes to the whole “vacation” thing.

daughter of hades! reader

For as much as you were your father's daughter, the sun seemed to give you the perfect tan—unlike any other child of Hades. (RIP Nico, your lobster-colored skin will never be forgotten.) At least it usually did. This time, you were pretty sure you'd leave the water with a good sunburn, judging by the relentless warmth soaking into your skin. But you couldn't bring yourself to leave your surfboard. Not with the way your sunglasses fit snuggly on your nose, nor when the waves were so perfect, lapping against your legs and carrying you with a kind of ease you'd been craving for weeks.

This whole trip was a much-needed vacation after weeks of college exams and late-night stress eating. The only thing keeping you sane during those grueling study sessions was the promise of seeing Percy again. Long-distance relationships were complicated as hell—ironic, given your family ties—but somehow, the two of you made it work. Even going from opposite ends of the world to just two states away hadn't magically solved the struggle of missing him every single day. But him attending New Rome University did make things easier when it came to shadow travel.

So, when your semester ended, you made it your mission to convince your boyfriend that a trip to Hawaii would solve all your problems. It was the ultimate win-win situation. You got a week on the beach, Percy got to try out his water skills in style, and both of your families got a much-needed break. Plus, it wasn’t every day that the son of Poseidon got to show off in the Pacific. Plus, this whole trip was going on Daddy's credit card anyways.

The sound of a familiar laugh cut through the rhythmic crash of waves, and you glanced toward the shoreline. Percy stood there, grinning ear to ear, holding what looked like a painfully large plate of shaved ice. He waved it in the air as if to say, Hurry up, or I’m eating this all myself. Typical.

"You're lucky I like you," you muttered to yourself with a grin, lying flat on the board and paddling toward the beach. The salty spray stung your eyes, but it was worth it. Every second you spent in Hawaii with Percy felt like another little reminder of why you'd fallen for him in the first place. His effortless charm. The way he somehow always made you laugh, even on your worst days. And, of course, how he absolutely refused to stop teasing you for being a "walking contradiction."

"You're Hades' kid," he'd said when you first arrived, eyes sparkling as he watched you grab a lei of bright yellow plumerias. "Aren't you supposed to, like, hate the sun or something?"

You’d shoved the lei into his face. "We don't all brood like Nico, you know."

The water rushed around your ankles as you pushed the board closer to shore, and Percy handed you the shaved ice with a cheeky smile, already plotting something—you could tell by the glint in his sea-green eyes. Sure enough, as soon as he sat down, he used his powers to send a gentle wave rolling up behind you, pushing the board—and both of you—back into the ocean. "Took you long enough. I thought I’d have to send a search party."

"Oh, please." You rolled your eyes, trying to steady yourself while digging your spoon into the colorful mound. "I’m not the one who spent half an hour arguing with the guy about blue raspberry being superior to pineapple."

"It is superior," Percy argued, unrepentant, pressing his legs against either side of yours. "I’m just spreading the truth."

"Spreading lies, you mean," you shot back, handing him the bowl, then, with a content sigh, you lay back against the board, letting the gentle rocking of the ocean drift your mind away.

How the two of you managed to fit so perfectly on the surfboard was a mystery, especially considering that Percy was anything but small. But somehow, it worked. Maybe that was just...you and him. Always finding a way to make things fit, no matter how chaotic or improbable it seemed.

“We should do one of those couple massages the hotel offers,” Percy muttered, breaking the peaceful silence. You felt him lean forward against your legs, his voice a warm rumble as the waves continued to lap softly around you. “Mom and Paul got one this morning, and she said it was worth it.”

So that’s why Sally and Paul had left Estelle with you two earlier. Not that you minded. Estelle adored both of you, and you couldn’t say no to that little face. The memory of her tiny fingers tugging on yours that morning as she lay between you in bed brought a smile to your lips. She had giggled uncontrollably every time you’d snuggled closer, her bright laugh filling the room in a way that made your heart feel impossibly full.

“She’s the best, isn’t she?” Percy asked, as if reading your mind.

“Definitely,” you agreed, a fond smile curling your lips. “She didn’t even cry when I accidentally dropped her pacifier. Just gave me this little side-eye like, ‘Really? You’re supposed to be the responsible one.’”

Percy barked a laugh, the sound so genuine it made your chest ache in the best way. “Yeah, that’s my sister, all right. She’s already better at judging people than I am.”

“Low bar,” you teased, nudging his side lightly with your foot.

“Hey!” He grabbed your ankle in mock indignation, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You wound me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound blending with the soft crash of waves around you. Moments like this—peaceful, playful, with no looming monsters or world-ending crises, or college essay's due—were rare, and you wanted to soak in every second.

“So,” Percy said after a moment, letting go of your ankle and leaning back again, placing the bowl of already half eaten ice in the empty space under your legs. “Massages or no?”

You hummed in thought, pretending to deliberate even though you already knew the answer. “Fine. As long as this sunburn doesn't kill me tomorrow."

“Ah, yes, finally you will achieve that lobster burn like all children of Had—” Percy started to laugh, but you didn’t let him finish. With a quick shove of your leg, you pushed him off the surfboard, sending him tumbling into the water.

There was a startled yelp, followed by a loud splash, and then silence. For a moment, the waves lapped peacefully, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath.

Then, with a dramatic gasp, Percy resurfaced, water dripping from his soaked bangs as he propped himself up on the edge of the board. His nose was inches from yours, his sea-green eyes narrowed into an exaggerated pout. “Hey! What was that for?!”

“For daring to slander my superior tanning skills,”

Percy squinted at you, water glistening on his skin. “You know, I could just flip this board and end this little truce right now.”

“Percy, so help me, if you try—” Your words were cut off as he leaned forward, slotting his mouth against yours.

The kiss was warm and salty, the ocean’s spray clinging to both of you as his hand found your cheek. For a moment, the world stilled—the waves, the sky, the sun—all of it fading into the background as his lips moved with yours. All that mattered was Percy, his touch, the quiet certainty that he was yours, and you were his.

When he pulled back, his grin was back in full force, all smug and playful. “That’s what I thought,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your expression serious, though the heat blooming in your cheeks probably gave you away. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Lucky?” Percy quirked an eyebrow, sliding back onto the board with practiced ease. “Babe, I’m a catch.”

You groaned, pushing the shaved ice back into his hands. “And now I’m regretting everything.”

“Liar,” he teased, bumping his knee against yours. The two of you sat there, the surfboard rocking gently beneath you. You let out a long sigh, resting your head against Percy’s shoulder, your fingers idly trailing through the cool water beside the board. “You know,” you said after a beat, “I think this might be the longest we’ve gone without a sea monster showing up.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Percy warned, his voice light but carrying just enough seriousness to make you laugh. “The last thing I want is a giant crab ruining my shaved ice.”

“Or ruining our massage plans,” you added with a small grin. “You’re still treating me, by the way.”

“Treating you?” Percy shot you a faux-offended look. “I’m the one risking my life out here. You’re the one who almost drowned me.”

“You fell off,” you corrected, snickering as you felt his gaze on you. “I just… gave you a little nudge.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, shaking his head, but the way his arm wrapped around your waist told you he wasn’t really upset.

The two of you drifted for a while longer, the sounds of laughter and waves filling the air. As the sun moved across the sky, Percy glanced at you, his eyes softening. “Thanks for this.”

“For what?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“For... making everything better,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “Even when stuff sucks, you somehow make it less sucky.”

You smiled, leaning into his warmth. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Percy grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

You smiled up at him. “You’re stuck with me, Seaweed Brain.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[pyjamaart]

Every time someone complains about Fully Charged Airmans design, my love for him grows even stronger.

I feel like most people are mad that he isn't blue. Like back in 2014 when people complained that Sonics arms were blue in Sonic Boom. But I honestly don't think it's that big of a deal.

But if you see Fully Charged as an alternate universe to the classic series (which it is), then I don't really get why you'd have to complain about Airman not being blue. I think it's good they tried something fresh with the robot masters. They didn't have that much personality in the classic series, to be honest, compared to Fully Charged. I just think he needed a little more screen time to focus on his character. Just like many other robot masters on this show.

Okay, I have to admit, I did change around his colors a bit for a joke that would have gone along the lines of "Just hire fans, lol", but it actually ended up looking pretty cool, so I can't really make that joke anymore……. Really shot myself in the foot with that one. Anyway, here's blue Airman:

I still think that an episode featuring an air race would have been really really cool. They could have introduced a robot master like Gyroman as his rival. Maybe losing that race could have been the start of his character arc where he finally confronts his inferiority/superiority complex. Along the lines of "Flying is all I have left! If I can't have that, what else am I supposed to do?" Well, now that we're already in headcanon territory, I might as well tell you about all my other ones involving Airman. I believe his family is suuuuper rich. All his siblings have well respected careers and probably make his parents buckets of money. Meanwhile Airman is like the youngest sibling who dreamed of becoming a professional racer, which his parents didn't support at all. Kinda reminds me of another robot master under Lord Obsidians command whose dreams were crushed by his parents......

And as we've seen in that one episode, Airmans siblings are assholes. They just pretend he doesn't exist, like he never belonged to their family at all. Like they're ashamed that he's such a failure.

Oh damn that got dark again, sorry. But just like Drillman, he gets better in the end. While Drillman gets Woodman to look out for him, I've had the headcanon for a while that Airman gets taken in by Blastowoman, since she's also a flying robot master like him. Maybe she even gets him a job as a cargo bot alongside herself. I feel like he really needs someone supportive who's not afraid to call him out on his bullshit in his life. And because I have another headcanon that Blastowoman actually has an adult child (Blastman, lol), she's like the perfect woman for the job. ;)

Coming back to Airmans design, I did change some things about it for this particular piece of fan art. When I was trying to come up with an awesome pose to draw him in, the first thought I had was "Damn, I gotta give this man some heels." And that's exactly what I drew.

Sorry for not posting anything for 2 months btw. I got addicted to Metaphor ReFantazio ;) If that doesn't become game of the year, I'm gonna be real mad.

Jenny out.

[charlidos]

Surfing is another intergral part of the tales from the set of LotR. It was mostly the hobbits and Orlando learning to surf, but apparently "everyone else" was also dragged into it...

Orlando on surfing in NZ:

"When I arrived in Wellington I wanted to find some sort of extracurricular activity we could do outside Lord of the Rings, just to keep us sane. Mountainbiking, fly by wire, anything. Everyone was going 'I don't know', so I said 'How about surfing?' Billy Boyd was into it so that day we bought boards and went down to Lyall Bay, and the guys there were like 'All right lads, nice boards', because we had pristine wetsuits and new boards that were nicely waxed, then getting into the sea and falling off, but it was great and we eventually dragged everyone else in."'

One of these "everyone else" is Viggo. Any other time, Orlando thinks Viggo can basically do anything. But apparently, he can't surf.

According to Orlando, Viggo was so disastrously bad at it, they were all banned from doing it.

Coming to New Zealand was like a rebirth. After living in London for so long, I connected with nature again. I even learned to surf there. After Viggo Mortensen injured his head while surfing one day, they banned it. But halfway through filming, I thought: "I've shot too much film for them to fire me", and I started again.

So were they really banned from surfing for a while? I never heard that before. But seems the wild boys just needed to surf anyway!

The tale doesn't really specify if Viggo only tried surfing this once, when he happened to get injured. But Peter Jackson calls him a "non-surfer" and that he was "lured" into it. How did they actually do the luring? By the promise of a too pretty, shirtless elf, I bet.

Peter Jackson told the story of how Bloom and some of the hobbit actors had lured non-surfer Viggo Mortensen into action. Mortensen had shown up for work ready for shooting in the mines of Moria with "a huge swollen face, his right eye closed like a boxer", after a knock from his surf board. "For the scene we had to always shoot from the left-hand side," Jackson said. "We had no choice."

Orlando definitely looks ready to lure filthy humans into action here. He looks positively evil right there. Up to bad things, for sure.

Billy:

“He had the biggest black eye you’ve ever seen. Initially the hobbits were worried their friend had more than a bruise. When I asked if he was alright, he said, ‘I don’t know, am I?’ And when Viggo says that, you know something’s wrong.”

I never realised until this very moment, that the two pics of Viggo with the surfing magazine weren't actually taken in sequence; in one his hair is dry, in the other wet, and he's wearing a cardigan or something in one and not in the other. It's funny to think someone - possibly Orlando, since it looks like it's from inside the Cuntebago - made the effort to make Viggo pose with the magazine twice.

[typhoonvash]

Vash leans into Wolfwood's arms, making himself comfortable against his chest. It's warm, despite everything that's different, he's still warm and makes him feel... safe. It's almost as if no time has passed at all... kind of. He's alive, it's not a dream, that's what matters the most.

After Wolfwood dares to dip his hand down to wipe away tears, Vash captures it and clings to it, and he's not sure he's ever going to let it go. It's the hand that he's so familiar with, can trace every vein beneath that russet skin, and, best of all, it's not clutching a half-empty bottle or a sharp-edged shot glass. Just... him.

As unworthy as he is of being held like this, Vash is here—and Wolfwood rolled him up into this position, so this is what he wants too. It's perfect—stinking coat and rain and tent and all.

Well, it's perfect until Wolfwood mentions that.

The Plant stiffens as Wolfwood speaks of the Eye of Michael. The... cult that worshiped his brother to such an extent that they became a heavy presence around Gunsmoke at the time. Wolfwood's old employer. It's enough to sober him up and, with a sigh, resigns himself to a serious expression as he stares vacantly at the stove and holds onto his companion's hand.

"I... see," Vash is eventually able to respond, mulling over his options. He doesn't speak for a long time, letting the silence linger as he dances his fingers between Wolfwood's knuckles in thought. "No offense, but how do they expect you to fight when you can barely get excited without a heart attack? And... I'm just supposed to let you...?"

He can get back to a fighting state with a few weeks, at most, of training himself. Wolfwood can't just... find a better working heart. Maybe they can tune it up, or try something new, but that'd risk Wolfwood dying and... that's not worth it. Nothing's worth that.

"I have a small house nearby that's pretty disconnected from the rest of the world. We'll rest for a few weeks, get ourselves back in shape and healthy, get my arm fixed, and then... I don't know. I'll have to take care of it, and I-I think I'm too unstable for them to use me like that anyway... which is maybe more dangerous now that I think about it."

A bunch of melded plants and a last run? That sounds... horrifying.

"You can stay at my apartment in the city, where it's safe, and they don't ever have to know you're alive. It's... it's not perfect, but I'll come back after—"

He hates being coddled, why are you even trying? Do you want to insult him? Neither of us should do missions solo anymore, but I don't know what else to do... I'm not losing him again.

His grip on Wolfwood's hand tightens. If ever there were a time he didn't want to do something, it's now, and it's obvious to tell even without words. Wolfwood doesn't need to be a mind reader to figure that one out.

Aren’t they both just chock full of bad ideas all the time? He’s made Vash his mission several times over…or maybe his mission never changed.

Find Vash. Protect Vash.

His work might never end in that case. Well, he’s alright with that. 

Wolfwood’s eyes follow Vash as he moves from one side of the tent to the next, down and beside the ruined prosthetic. Vash the Stampede is a pale afterimage of himself. A little overgrown, with paper skin and sunken eyes. The irony that he just pulled Vash the Stampede out of a cave isn’t lost on him, even if Vash hasn’t seemed to have otherwise aged a day out of his late twenties. 

“Only a bit,” Wolfwood responds, by which he means a lot. He pokes a few dry sticks around to make sure they’re sufficiently submerged by the flames before closing the mouth of the stove. 

How achingly predictable. In the middle of Vash berating himself, Wolfwood decides he has enough. Slipping out of the waxy, dark coat around his shoulders and tossing it into Vash’s face takes no time at all. His own fashion sense hasn’t changed much over the years, despite Lumida’s suggestions to blend in with current trends. 

“Here. Y’look like a stiff breeze could knock ya over.”

Fancy bioweave textiles, form-fitting legwear, holo-ponchos, slender, slippy shoes that clicked tight– that wasn’t him. He stuck out enough without trying, he didn’t need to look like a pig with makeup on top of it. 

“And make room! Damn.” Wolfwood piles in beside Vash on the meager bedroll, paying no mind to whether they knock elbows. The bright spark of light that arcs from their points of contact is something to marvel at. He scoots back to give his legs enough room to spread out on either side of Vash and bundle him in close. Static crackles up the hairs on his arms as he tucks Vash’s head under his chin.

“Yeah, well, you never were real good at listenin’ to me.” Gently, he collects some of the fallen tears from Vash’s skin with the pad of his thumb. He doesn’t know how much time they have. Either of them. Fate never deigns to grant them enough, it would seem…

“Vash. The Eye of Michael is startin’ to make a resurgence. They’re lookin’ for you.”

Funny, he’d envisioned this reunion where Vash was the one catching him up instead of the other way around. 

“It’s why they found a way to bring me back. So I could find you. They want to recreate the thing Knives became two hundred years ago.” He wasn’t around to see what Knives became himself, but Lumida had shown him the recordings. Of course, only Vash could’ve fought someone as monstrous as his brother and lived. 

“Usin’ you. ‘Cause yer a…what’d Lumida call it…An Earth Generation-00 Plant.”

[qweenofurheart]

i redrew that one shot from saltburn with my ocs winghead and adam.

adam is loud and imposing and wants to go to art school and winghead is more like the quiet and polite jock. adam sort of clings onto winghead bc he’s the only other “cursed” at their hs (hence the wings and antennae on their heads) and winghead is annoyed but complacent to his company.

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[megaerakles]

To Whom It May Concern

Tim couldn’t stay. 

No matter what Bruce had said when he caught Tim in the act of laying the paper trail to establish his Fake Uncle, no matter how long Dick had sobbed into the phone at him during an inordinately expensive long distance (read: off planet) phone call, no matter how much Alfred had been fussing over him and insisting it was no trouble at all to care for him since Tim’s scheme had been revealed and promptly foiled, it just didn’t change the fact that Tim couldn’t stay. Truthfully, the Wayne family’s apparent sudden burst of affection for him actually made this whole thing worse because somewhere along the way, without even trying, Tim had failed to keep things wholly professional between them and somehow tricked them into thinking he belonged in their family! 

He couldn’t let it stand. For the sake of Jason’s memory, for the sake of preserving the sanctity of the true Wayne family, he had to stop this… this absurdity of pretending that Tim belonged with them from continuing! Tim had to run. Tim had to vanish. It was the only way to make things right again. Sure, the thought of never seeing any of them again, the thought of being done with Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Barbara and everyone in his life he currently held dear once and for all made it feel as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest only to be shoved back down his throat to stop the flow of air into his body—but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, not nearly as much as they did. This would be for their own good. 

Tim was leaving, and it turned out to be easier than he thought it would be in the end. Not emotionally easier, but logistically easier. Bruce had been extra attentive lately, so he thought he’d have to fake an injury and get ‘benched’ so that they would lower their guard long enough for him to slip away. But by some divine stroke of luck, a new player had waltzed onto Gotham’s criminal scene not too long after Tim’s Fake Uncle plan fell through and started making threats against Batman and Robin. They had apparently freaked B out enough to prompt him to send Tim off to Titan’s Tower to ‘focus on his team for awhile’. Tim had accepted the command with the requisite amount of complaint, planted some fake texts to make it look like he’d actually communicated to his Team that he would be there, shoved everything from his guest room in the Manor that he couldn’t bear to part with into a duffel bag underneath a spare uniform, gave Bruce what only he knew was a more emotionally charged nod goodbye than usual, and then poof. Tim Drake was zapped out of the Batcave for the last time ever. 

He let himself have one night in the Tower. Partly to catch a few hours of sleep in a familiar and secure environment, but mostly so he could clean up his room for its next occupant, sweep his belongings and his person for any extra trackers, and repack his bag more efficiently. He also took the time to grab a spare backpack and fill it up with emergency rations. While he was taking plenty of cash, he didn’t want to risk having to go into stores with security cameras for a while, at least until he’d cleared a suitable distance from San Francisco proper as well as implemented the first of his many planned disguises. He didn’t think a bottle of cheap hair dye and some colored contacts would be enough to fool Oracle indefinitely, but if he was appropriately cautious it might keep her from getting a confirmation of his location long enough for the Bats to either get bored looking for him or to actually realize they were better off without him around. 

When the early rays of dawn started to bathe the sides of Titan’s Tower in ember colored light, he was off. He left behind seven trackers pulled from his clothes and bag and one more from behind his ear; he’d kept the one he noticed in his favorite pair of sneakers because it was a type that wouldn’t start transmitting data until the Bats actively started tracking it and he was hoping to find someone who wore his size at the bus station he could pay to wear them so he could throw them off for even longer. If all else failed, he would just toss them in an out of the way trash can. He had also left a letter of resignation for Batman that he’d whipped up based off of an online template, signed and sealed and awaiting discovery atop the pillow in his nearly empty dorm room (he had tried for something more personal, a longer note of explanation for Bruce about why he couldn’t stay despite being asked, but—the words just wouldn’t come, and he’d been running out of time). His bag was heavy, courtesy of all of the extra supplies he’d grabbed in anticipation of having to evade not only Batman’s team but the rest of the Justice League. His heart was heavy, courtesy of emotional baggage that he wished was as easy to unpack as his actual bags would be when he finally found somewhere to settle. 

He boarded the first bus he saw after he’d gone a few blocks and took a seat towards the back, where he leaned against the window and stared back at the iconic giant T that he used to belong in, however briefly, until it disappeared from sight. And just like that, Tim Drake’s life as Robin was over. 

—

To Whom It May Concern:

This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately. 

Thank you so much for the opportunity to work with you all for the past three years. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the team and appreciated the opportunity to learn about vigilantism and hone my detective skills. I’m excited to take these skills with me as I pursue the next step of my career.

During the past two weeks, I have done everything possible to wrap up any ongoing cases and leave no unfinished business. The Robin suit as well as my spare have been cleaned and placed in the armory of Titan’s Tower along with any gear I have been issued. 

I wish Batman and team the best, but am afraid I will be out of contact for the foreseeable future. 

Sincerely, 

T. J. Drake

—

Red Hood stalked into Titan’s Tower with all the grace of a wildcat closing in on its prey, his vicious smirk hidden by his helmet, his unauthorized entrance hidden by virtue of the heroes’ own stupidity in failing to remove his codes from the database. Seriously—he’d thought gaining entry into their so-called fortress would be the hardest part of this little trip, and had only tried his access codes for the sake of checking the most stupidly obvious Plan A off his list! For them to work, to realize that there was nothing truly separating the precious sidekicks from the wrath of a vengeance minded crime lord, well… it sure made the message he was about to send feel all the more poignant. 

He had come equipped to subdue an entire horde of Teeny Titans without hurting them (much), but to his surprise, the tower was empty of kid sidekicks despite Robin having been sent to work with his team yesterday afternoon, a fact Jason had gleaned last night from listening to the mind numbing chatter of Nightwing being bored on a stakeout and wanting to chat with anyone over the comms Jason had hacked into. Which he’d done in order to better plan his aggressive takeover of Crime Alley, not because he missed hearing his family’s voices. Nope. 

(Since coming back to Gotham, it had been more difficult than he anticipated to stick to the plan when some part of his mind still stubbornly clung to those foolish, childhood dreams of belonging and family and a father who gave a shit and things like that, and kept popping up with annoying questions like ‘what if he revealed his identity to Dick or Alfred or someone just to see if maybe Talia had been right and they’d want him back after all. Clearly, the existence of a new Robin meant that they’d never really given a damn about him, so he was going to go through with this thing, just watch him.)

Truly this had to be fate, because the path to Robin was practically unfolding before him with no barriers. All that was left to do was find where in this gigantic clubhouse the itty little birdie was nesting. Jason tried the common room first. Then the kitchen. Then the rec room. And then the training floor. And the med bay. And then the armory, where he found Robin’s suit, but no actual Robin. He supposed the next place to check would be Robin’s bedroom, because even though it was well past eleven, Drake was a teenager and could conceivably be sleeping in, especially since there was no Alfred around to rouse him at a reasonable hour. Luckily, the doors on the floor with sleeping quarters were all clearly marked with either the name or symbol of the person it belonged to, so it was easy enough to find the one with that all too familiar stylized ‘R’. Jason paused to take a steadying breath before gritting his teeth and deciding to really make an entrance by kicking down the door. 

…To an empty bedroom. Like, not just devoid of Tim Drake, but also devoid of books, trinkets, photos, decoration, clothes, dishes, mess, et cetera, et cetera. It looked as clean and sterile as a hotel room, and if Jason hadn’t literally just seen Robin’s insignia on the door he would think he’d entered an unassigned room by mistake. He frowned and yanked off his helmet, as if looking with his own two eyes would suddenly change the scene, but no. Nothing. He strode into the room and yanked open the closet—empty. He walked over to the desk and yanked open the top drawer—empty. He yanked open the bottom drawer, and mostly empty except for—wait, was that a pile of deactivated Bat trackers? Fucking bizarre. When he stood up, he glanced around again, and this time something on the bed caught his eye. It had been easy to miss against the white pillowcase, but there was an envelope tucked up against the pillow. With a scowl, he stalked over and grabbed it. 

When Jason flipped it over, he noted that it was addressed to Batman, but decided that since he was a crime lord now he didn’t have to care about something as trivial as opening someone else’s mail. He didn't want to take off his gloves and risk leaving prints on anything, so he pulled out a dagger and used it to slice open the envelope. As he flipped it over to dump its contents on the desk, he had the fleeting thought that he probably should have put back on his mask in case this had been some villain’s ploy to poison Batman, but luckily all that fell out was a single sheet of printer paper folded into thirds. 

This he was careful not to damage as he unfolded it. It wasn’t a long note, just a few small paragraphs, so it was quick enough to read: To whom it may concern. This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately… 

Jason dropped the letter and took a step back, staring at the innocuous piece of paper with wide eyes and racing thoughts. Robin had—Drake wasn’t—Timothy—the kid, he was quitting? Leaving? Gone? 

It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Except Robin shouldn’t have had any way of knowing Red Hood would be able to track him all the way to Titan’s Tower so why would he have set a trap for him in the first place? A trap for someone else, then? If it was, it was really, really stupid of him because the kid had signed his resignation letter from Robin with his actual name, and surely he wouldn’t have made it this far if he were that careless with his identity. So, it was either a very bad trap, or not a trap at all. And if it was not a trap at all, then… 

Then Robin had… resigned. Which, ok, Jason’s stated goal coming into this thing was to get Tim Drake to stop being Robin. So he should be happy about this, right? Except he’d not gotten to toss the kid around and work out his aggression at all so there was no satisfaction in it. Also, the timing was fucking obnoxious. Go figure that the very day he decides to do something about his replacement, the kid decides to peace out of the Gotham vigilante scene and… and go… 

… Somewhere. Jason had no idea where Tim Drake would go if he were no longer Robin. Given how he’d waited until he was alone and then left the note to be found on the other side of the country, Jason had a sneaking suspicion that returning to Gotham was currently off the table. The letter had said he would be ‘out of contact’ for the foreseeable future; Jason could read between the lines enough to figure out that meant he was running away. 

—Which, fuck. Another Robin was running away from Batman because of… well, Jason didn’t know what this kid’s issue with B was, but there were plenty of potential flaws in the man to choose from so Jason was going to play it safe and assume it was something Bruce did. Clearly, the man could never learn. And now, this poor dumb Robin was going to pay the price! Jason was more than familiar with the number of horrors that awaited kids who ended up on their own. He could starve; he could freeze to death; he could catch some disease like the flu, or get cut on a rusty nail and get tetanus, and then die from it because he couldn’t access medical treatment. He could get mugged, or harassed by cops, or snatched up by traffickers, or—

And fine; Jason himself had meant to hurt him. But that had been for ideological purposes, to prove a point about putting children in danger and not taking good enough care of them and stuff. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt him that badly, just bad enough to freak out Bruce a bit. But Jason was also the Red Hood, and the Red Hood’s mission was to do what was necessary to stop awful shit from happening to vulnerable kids. And this stupid, stupid letter was apparently enough to abruptly transfer Timothy Drake into that category in his head. 

Everything Jason had heard about the kid said he was smart, and the timing of his disappearance pointed to some thoughtful planning on his part. Jason could imagine that the little shit had some sort of plan in place to evade Batman’s attempts to locate him, and he probably could manage to run without getting caught by Bruce and the Gotham team for a while. Heck, the kid probably had strategies to get away from most if not all of the Justice League members, since B was sure to call in favors once he got frantic enough about the little bird. But one thing the kid likely did not plan for was being pursued by him. Ex-Robin, currently a crime lord, League of Assassins connections, and a bone to pick with Timothy specifically? (He ran away from home and left a fucking resignation letter about it? Does he not realize what that would do to Dick, to Alfred, to Bruce—)

After stuffing the letter into his pocket, Jason put back on his helmet and stalked out of Titans Tower as silently as he’d arrived, this time with a new yet equally furious purpose sharpening his steps. Sucked to be Timothy Drake, he thought, because the Red Hood got his message and he was officially concerned. 

[hearts4lilith]

Once Again, I Have Words about the Minecraft Movie trailer.

(This time, they are positive.)

This is quite the long post, so prepare to hear all my silly opinions!

All images: Warner Bros. Pictures - A Minecraft Movie | Official Trailer

Full post under the cut :)

Wow. Okay. So turns out we're all fucking stupid.

This is not the nether portal!! This is a portal to the real world, thank the good lord! (Forgive the bad photo choice, t'was the only one I could find.)

I really like the way this trailer goes. "As a child, I yearned for the mines" is such a good little meme before we get into the minecraft world.

And honestly I take back what I said about jack black. He's.. honestly gonna be pretty good for Steve. Maybe I was just brainwashed by others' opinions.

AND THE BEES!!!! Definitely not as important as other stuff but OH MY GOD THE BEES ARE SO CUTE !!!!!!!!!!

Alright here we go

First things first, I REALLY like the crafting table title card. It's such an interesting idea!! I think it's a good little showcase of how well the studios involved have come to understand the game. And the fact that when you pause it, the crafting recipe is a shield!!!! It's not the one we know, but it's a shield! Just something interesting I spotted!

The special effects on the portal!! Good god, they're amazing...

AND THEY USED THE ACTUAL MINECRAFT SOUNDTRACK!!!!

Okay serious now;

The animals. The. Fucking. Animals. I love the animals so so much. As long as that sheep doesn't have human teeth anymore, I am happy. Because Oh My God LOOK AT THE WOLF.

OH WHAT A GOOD BOY

And then THE ENVIRONMENTS TOO??? HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUUUUUCKKKKK

I change my mind on the graphics. They are so so beautiful. JUST LOOK AT THIS SHOT.

Absolutely stunning. I am floored. I cannot wait to see this film. Still not the biggest fan of the casting but what's done is done.

The MINES. THE MINES!!!! OH MY STARS THE REDSTONE ORE IS SO PRETTY.

Also was it just me who thought the chicken-machine-thing was a little bit of a reference to MCSM?? No?? Okay-

Anyway to bring up one of my points from the last post (Attatched), I FUCKING LOVE THE PIGLINGS. THE PIGLINS AND THE GHASTS AND THE WHOLE NETHER ARE SO WELL DESIGNED AND ANIMATED THEYRE SICK

LIKENJUSTUUUGGHHGGGFUCKILOVETHEM

and then THE STASH. THE SCENE WHERE WE SEE ALL STEVE'S STUFF. THE WAY THE DIAMOND HELMET GLOWS. THE WINGED BOOTS. THE ARMOR. THE BOOKS THE POTIONS THE EVERYTHING IN THIS SHOT

I just wish the TNT were a BIT more detailed but other than that OH MY GODS!!!!!!

okay im gonna be honest i cba writing anymore but the general idea is I Fucking Love This Trailer & I Will Defend It With My Life

This is a film I would be happy with.

Please go watch the actual thing.

I Cannot Express How Much I Hate The Minecraft Movie Trailer.

First things first; who told them the nether portal was blue. Because I will find you. It's never NOT been purple.

Portal aside, the graphics are fucking SHIT.

I would've ABSOLUTELY preferred something fully animated over that crap.

Instead of putting actual effort into it, they made the sheep and the llama look stupid and the whole rest of the world just looks weird.

Like...

THATS NOT MINECRAFT?????

The piglins and ghasts look sick as hell, I'll admit, but you can't make the animals look like THAT. WHY DOES THE SHEEP HAVE HUMAN TEETH.

Okay. It's a choice, but it's still not my biggest issue.

Next, casting.

Why, on god's green earth, is JACK BLACK playing STEVE??? The reason he worked in The Mario Movie is because THAT WAS FULLY ANIMATED. I'm sorry, I love the guy. I do. But he's not good for Steve.

The famous names on your cast aren't the reason people are watching your movie. I can promise if you had lesser known actors playing more interesting characters in a more lovingly-made movie, it'd be about 50x better.

Also, if I may, we know NOTHING about the plot. We knew stuff about Mario, we knew stuff about FNaF, and we knew stuff about Barbie.

All we know is 3 jokes in the community that they've taken at surface-level and used that.

Forgive me if what I'm about to say makes no sense, I'm very emotional about how shitty this movie looks. But I believe that this whole film is gonna be full of awful, simple, overused jokes. I think it'll be the "...iiit's right behind me, isn't it? 😬" type of humor, and not a worthwhile plot.

Minecraft is about existence, and being, and creating your own world - Taking the earth from beneath your feet and making a home, your own place to belong. Carving out your place in a world that goes on forever.

I wish I believed in this movie; I wish it wasn't a cheap cash grab, and was instead a permanent immortalization of the game that has been such a great part of my life. I wish that instead of Jack Black, all the creators that helped to make this game and community famous were included and featured and honored. I was even hoping that maybe, for just a second, we might get a shot of a pig in a crown for Technoblade.

But if THAT is what the movie is going to be, if THAT is how they want this community and game to be remembered- I think I'm happy they're probably not going to do that.

We don't want this movie. Not if that is how you're going to do it.

[sluckythewizard]

[PUT INTO PLACE, TIED DOWN AND ARRANGED, AND IS NEVER THE SAME, AGAIN.]<-listen to my favorite songs. VAMPIRES ARE WONDERFUL ARENT THEY. THE FLESH IS SO MUCH MORE DURABLE. SO MUCH STRETCHIER THAN HUMANS. THE STRESS DOESNT KILL A VAMPIRE THE SAME WAY IT DOES A HUMAN. YOU CAN TAKE THEM APART THREAD BY THREAD AND LEAVE THEM WIDE AWAKE WITHOUT WORRY OF THE BRAINMATTER SPOILING UNDER VINEGARY AGONY.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Replenishing the Nonfiction Stack; or, We're Calling the Book Buying Ban a Wash, Officially.

I am not, apparently, immune to coupons for niche nonfiction that's directly up my alley (octopus minds and RUSSIAN OWLS, hello??? Thanks, bookshop!).

I thought perhaps the BURGLAR'S GUIDE would also be covered under said coupon, since it was publisher-specific (alas: it was Not, but we might as well bundle for shipping purposes). And then while I was shopping IRL for gifties I found a copy of ROOM, which has been on my list for...ever? So! Hopefully these will hold me over on the nonfiction front for a minute!

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizon forbidden west | aloy 136/?

[astrobei]

take a little moment (find the right words)

“Wow,” Will breathes out, just on this edge of teasing. “You sound very confident about this.” “Well,” Mike shrugs, swallowing hard in a desperate attempt to soothe his very, very dry mouth, “I don’t know why someone wouldn’t be interested in you.” “Oh?” Will says, and it’s definitely teasing now, enough for Mike to feel himself turning warm, all down his neck and to the tips of his own – sadly unpatterned – socks. “Someone?” “Yeah.” Mike nods. Oh, god. This is fine. “In a very arbitrary sense of the word. Just– people. Someone.”

Mike is approximately ninety-eight percent sure that his feelings are requited. That last two percent, however, has really been throwing him for a loop.

for @wiseatom <3

[heyclickadee]

Because I have a tendency to get stuck in art blocks and s t r u g g l e badly with composition, and because I think The Bad Batch is a beautifully shot show, I’ve started doing rough grayscale studies of bad batch to unpack how line and value can be used to direct a viewer’s eye to where people want the audience to look. (I’m doing it with other movies and shows, but I do really like TBB, so….) That way, if I’m sitting in a period where I can’t draw, then maybe I can at least learn something. It’s not fan art, it’s just trying to break the composition down and make it make sense to me, but I think it’s interesting so I figured I’d throw them all here.

So! Potentially very boring things under the cut:

The thing that started this off was getting sent a gifset of the scene in “The Return” where Wrecker gives Crosshair his armor back. It’s a great scene, and one of the things that allows for the show to pull that moment off is the way that most everything in many of the shots is designed to draw the viewer’s attention to Crosshair’s face so that we’re paying attention to his reaction. For example:

It’s not a very high contrast shot, but if we block out the basics, most of the lines in the scene are directing us towards Crosshair. Both Wrecker and Omega make movements towards him in this shot, and then this movement is sort of carried over to Crosshair via the various lines in the background/Wrecker’s arm/even the crate. Additionally, our eyes tend to be drawn towards points of highest contract, which, in this shot, include the lamps in the far background against the pillars (forming a line from Wrecker to Crosshair) and the light hitting Crosshair’s face against the much darker background. Between all of this most people in the audience are going to end up automatically looking right at Crosshair who is, of course, the main person we’re supposed to paying attention to here.

This isn’t actually a full frame. I sort of grabbed a screenshot over the interwebs for this one, but The Bad Batch actually has a very wide aspect ratio. From what I understand it’s shot and aired in a CinemaScope ratio (2:39:1 or 2:35:1, though TBB is 2:39:1). It’s basically super ultra widescreen, an aspect ratio used when a filmmaker wants to make something feel more epic or cinematic, and as far as I know it’s the same aspect ratio used for the original trilogy before any cropping happened. (For reference, The Clone Wars was also shot in a CinemaScope ratio, 2:35:1, but was cropped to 16:9 for airing on Cartoon Network, and Rebels was shot and aired in 1:78/more or less 16:9.) So an uncropped screenshot of TBB would look more like this:

This is from “The Outpost.” It’s actually a fairly dark shot with Crosshair faced away from the camera and the value of his figure blending right into the rest of the foreground, which actually comes communicate a sense of someone who isn’t trying to draw attention to themselves (to me, anyway), but our eyes are drawn to Crosshair anyway by every major line in the shot as well as the highest point of contrast converging right over Crosshair’s shoulder. That, and the line of his rifle/shoulder and the support pole forming a big, well, cross-hair right in that same spot. Otherwise, he would blend right into the foreground and be easier to miss.

Unlike Hunter in this shot from “Plan 99”

Where basically you’ve got the exact same thing happening, every line in the shot converges on Hunter’s location, but instead of using just high contrast to draw our attention, we’ve got a fairly middle-gray scene with our eyes being drawn to the focal point by having one bright spotlight.

The orange cross mark I’ve drawn here is just to mark the center of the frame, which I wanted to point out since, at least as far as I’ve noticed, TBB has a tendency to save center and slightly off-center shots for really specific moments. I’d have to check on that and what the pattern is, though, since a few of the remaining shots in this post are center shot. (Filmmakers area generally taught shoot in thirds or, alternatively, on a phi grid or other away from center set of focal points, though you do get some center shot movies and shows. I think Raiders of the Lost Arc has a lot of center shots.)

In fact, a pretty good example of shooting in thirds (or on a phi grid—I laid it out and I think it fits the phi grid slightly better) is this shot from “Faster”

Where you’ve got Tech and Tay-0 placed on slightly close thirds on either side of the frame. If we’re just looking at line and value, with this shot we actually get this sort of interesting back and forth between where our eye is being drawn. A lot of the lines in the shot are directing us to look at Tech, but then you’ve got one of the lines going through, and the sweep of Tech’s arm and datapad pointing towards, Tay-0, whose face and body are outlined with a much higher contrast in value. And then we have that one very bold arc connecting the two. The result of this is that our eyes sort of bounce back and forth between these two characters as they get into their conversation.

Most of these shots have had just one or two (at most three) characters, and there are many scenes of TBB with everyone where our gaze is sort of directed to the group collectively, but sometimes you’ll have group scene where our attention is directed more towards one individual than others, like with this shot from “Battle Scars”

Once again, you’ve got most of the lines in the shot converging towards Rex as well as Rex’s person serving as the point of highest contrast while everyone else sort of melds into the background in terms of value. He’s also the first (and maybe only) figure who breaks fully above objects in the background to be shot directly against the sky. Line and value aren’t the only things directing the audience’s gaze towards Rex in this shot—there’s actually a lot of desaturation happening as we move from Rex, to the other characters, to the far background that helps as well, buuuuut this is a grayscale breakdown so that unfortunately doesn’t show up...here. (This is a center shot scene if we’re going horizontally, but Rex’s head, which is really the focal point, is right around the top third of the frame; it’s not exactly a low angle shot, but we are still looking up at him.)

Anyway, the reason any of this is important is because when you’re shooting with an incredibly wide aspect ratio like this, there’s a LOT of information being conveyed with every frame. You can fit a lot of stuff on screen at once. And while people generally going to rewatch and pay attention to background details (if nothing else, TBB is a goldmine for those background details), you do want to draw your audience’s attention to the most important parts of the frame—especially when an individual shot typically lasts only a few seconds. Or less. Like with this:

So this shot from "Faster" is up for less than a second before the camera turns to follow the speeders and then changes to another shot, and I had a devil of a time even getting screengrab of it. (Mostly because I was trying to grab it on my phone, but that's not really the point.) In less than a second the people making this have to communicate where Tech's speeder is, what's happening, what we're even looking at, while the objects in the scene are all moving incredibly fast. .

So, to communicate that, you've got multiple speeders moving in the shot, but only one (Tech's) standing out in terms of value against a fairly dark ceiling, as well as a combination of some real direct one-point linear perspective and the more or less arrow shape of the ramp pointing directly at the point Tech's speeder is going to be when it reaches the peak of its crest over the ramp. That way we're already looking at where Tech is going to be before he gets there and end up following his speeder as he zooms by.

[curapicas]

I find it curious Link Click uses the twins flashback to shove on our faces right away the parallels between Cheng Xiaoshi and Li Tianchen. Both combative boys, protective of their family, somewhat naive in different ways and quite enamoured with looking cool. So yeah, there's parallels, but to be fair the writing is good enough that you can find parallels with the main duo regarding any of the new s2 characters. And I think Link Click cleverly does that so we only realize closer to the finale what is, in my opinion, the strongest parallel: Cheng Xiaoshi and Li Tianxi.

They are both "the babies" of the group. Whereas Cheng Xiaoshi has two endlessly nagging friends who often scold him and push him to do better, Li Tianxi lost both her mother and a brother capable of caring for her, thus her needs go ignored as she grows up with Qian Jin. Qiao Ling and Lu Guang work together with CXS to earn a living/pay off his debt, LTX is used by her family to carry out the shady stuff they don't really need to do (both CXS and LTX get in extremely emotional and vulnerable situations because of it).

Cheng Xiaoshi eventually grows and understands his powers as a duty, and even though LG and QL still try to shield him from the worst*, they look proud whenever he shows what he's capable of (QL even calls him cool!). LTX's one "act of rebellion" is framed as a betrayal and she's straight up murdered. In the confrontation, she even prefers hiding behind CXS, whom she met hours beforehand, exactly bc she knows what her family is capable of.

Both are sensitive people, burdened by well-meaning actions with over-the-top consequences (it hurts to try and explain this one). In (this specific trauma for) CXS case, he was already an adult and in s2 spends the entire time reevaluating and adapting; in LTX's, she was a child and hardly knew how to deal with this guilt and /waves hands/ everything after

I really like this parallel of their running and emotional actions setting off this part of the plot. They cross paths, but the people they help do not have their fate changed significantly by this. But those moments where they FEEL Emma (+Lu Guang in this specific parallel) and Chen Bin were enough to carry LTX and CXS both into their roles in the story.

LTX finally "goes back" to the home she idealized, CXS is waiting at home for his parents. They cross paths, both get shot in that tunnel, but just as quickly go down opposite directions. LTX out of care for her (criminal) brother, parts with him; while CXS waits, he also built a new home for himself with new people he can call family. There's hope for him yet.

*tbh they're a biiiit controlling, but I can see that habit developing through the years, not because they don't mean well