#bean-writes!

[beanghostprincess]

"A unique shade of orange" (A Fan Letter Fanfic)

Summary:

Before starting their new adventure, the crew saves a girl from drowning. They all keep pointing out how similar she is to Nami. The girl wishes it to be true, too. Nami wishes all the love this fan of hers has to offer, would go to herself instead, though.

[AO3]

Tagging the people who seemed to be interested in the first post I made! -> @king-of-kaoss @nina-a-pines @selselskythesecond @writesailingdreams @wondersmithofastronautalis @mar-and-the-idea-graveyard @spoookybooogie @sunnyside-sunset @sanjipussyindulgence @add1rall @cisphobic-ace @catneedstosleep

[bakedbeanchan]

AU where Zuko doesn't practice helmet safety

[hyperdramas]

green beans | choi seungcheol

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

warnings: non-idol au, ceo!seungcheol, lots of fluff, reader is implied to be female, playful bantering, pet names ('babydoll'), mentions of children, reader is a badass housewife, lots of kissing

now playing: a lonely night (the weeknd)

word count: 699 (1 away from 700 are you serious)

"I'm home," The sound of footsteps pulled your attention from the simmering pan of vegetables, and you turned to see your CEO husband Seungcheol, sleeves to his button-up shirt rolled up as he dropped his wallet and keys on the countertop.

He strolled up to you, smiling as he pressed a kiss to your neck, smiling against your warm skin. "Smells so good, babydoll."

"Thank you, Cheollie. How was your day?" You ask, and Seungcheol sighs, leaning back on the cuonter as he clears his throat.

"Very tiring. We had new interns today and they brought me to my limits multiple times. One of them even clogged up the toilets." Seungcheol's voice was tired, and you chuckled, almost bursting out with laughter over your simmering green beans.

Sighing, you seasoned the greens with a bit more soy sauce, stepping back seconds after as you properly brought your arms around Seungcheol's neck. He pressed into you, smiling underneath your touch as you kissed him passionately.

"What if they see us?" Seungcheol chuckles deviously, eyes crinkling up with his smile as you blush and swat his chest. "We're not doing anything bad, Cheol."

"Are we sure kissing in front of our family dinner isn't bad, babydoll?" Seungcheol's hands squeeze your sides, and you roll your eyes at him, flicking your water covered hands at him as he gasps.

"Like you've not kissed my hand and collarbone while stirring green beans." You rolled your eyes at him, and he giggled, that cute, familiar chuckle sending shivers down your arms.

"You were too damn cute, hunched over the oven trying to season the green beans right. I was gonna explode if I didn't grab your face and kiss you until you couldn't think." Seungcheol whines, lips pouty as he nuzzles his face in your collarbone again. Laughing aloud, you jump when you hear your six-year-old daughter's voice come crashing into the kitchen.

"Daddy!" Her arms were open wide, and Seungcheol pulled away swiftly, catching her in his arms as he spins her around.

"Oh, it's my pretty little girl! How was your day?" He smiled at his daughter with such joy it broke your heart a little, and Yena couldn't help but squeal with delight, small gummy smile lighting up your world.

"Good, Daddy! I got first place in my class's spelling bee!" Yena jumped up and down in excitement, and Seungcheol's eyes sparkled as he kissed her all over her face, causing Yena to squeal happily.

"That's my smart, pretty girl." He praised her, and soon afterwards, your son, named after your husband, made his way into the kitchen. His thick eyebrows, which matched his father's, rose into his hairline as he crashed into his father's arms.

"And how have you been?" He questioned his son, and he smiled. "I've been good, Dad. I missed you so much. Mom missed you even more, though." The younger Seungcheol smiled evily as he grinned up at you, and you glared at him, neck and cheeks heating up as your husband laid eyes on you, obviously enjoying your flustered reaction.

"Seungcheol II!" You whisper to him, and he skips off happily, Yena sprinting after him.

"So you missed me?" Seungcheol teased, leaning in as he kissed the shell of your ear.

"........Maybe," You crossed your arms, and Seungcheol dove into your neck again, peppering kisses across your collarbone as his lips leave a trail of warm tingles down your neck and over your body.

"Your green beans are burning, by the way." He whispers, deep voice making your arm hair stand up before you blush deeply, stirring the beans once more as you mutter, "You made me forget how to stir for a second, Cheol."

"Keep stirring, babydoll, you're doing great." Seungcheol smiles, a hint of sarcasm behind his voice as he holds up two thumbs in an measly encouragement. Smiling at your husband's antics, you finish up dinner, smiling as you finally sit down beside your other half and enjoy a nice, home-cooked meal.

tags: @k1eev @kstrucknet

a/n: first addition other than dk!! still miss my pookie though so probably going to start working on my dk garten of banban au next?? (garten of banban is a stupid game but it's my comfort game so suck it up and deal w it)

[silovsmenot]

Foreign Language | Artūrs Šilovs

SUMMARY: A first meeting with a certain Latvian goalie, a surprise that leaves him thinking of you ... And an unexpected reunion thanks to injury. WARNINGS: So much fluff, poor Latvian language - if you're a Latvian native, please excuse me, I'm still learning. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilov & reader (f!reader implied). NOTES: This was the very first idea that I had, and it's been a brainrot ever since. This could very easily be a multi-part, because the brainrot is real. Okay so little Latvian lesson: 'sveiki' is an informal form of hello and 'piedodiet' is sorry. WORD COUNT: 2147 FIND PART TWO HERE

New job, new city — you were beyond excited to get started with your new life in Vancouver. It was a dream come true, a sports photographer for the Vancouver Sun. You’d be covering everything from soccer to basketball, and your personal favourite, ice hockey. It couldn’t have been better.

It had only been a few weeks and you were still pretty starstruck by the whole situation. The smile had rarely left your lips for everything felt so right. As you drove to the Abbotsford Centre, your music turned to loud as you sang along to your favourite song — life was good. And today promised to be another good day. You were helping to cover a story of the Vancouver prospects in Abbotsford and how they were developing within the AHL affiliate, while your partner would be interviewing players at the rink side and in changing rooms, you’d be snapping the shots of the training session.

It promised to be a lot easier than your usual days, training sessions were a lot more relaxed than game photography. Even with their game against playoff rivals looming, you knew it would be a calmer atmosphere than the alternative.

With the heavy camera bag upon your shoulders, digits scraped back your hair as you walked, tied back as you always did while working. Nodding across to your partner who stood waiting at the large rink doors, he held out a coffee to you, which you gratefully accepted with a quiet ‘thank you’. You two were close, like siblings — natural partners and you always delivered high tier work together.

“The boss wants some focus on the goalies, see what you can do, y/n.” He muttered as you walked, both sipping quietly at the hot liquid. From where you were, you could already hear the shouts of training, the crash of the puck against glass and the slapping of sticks upon the ice. It was a sound you knew and loved.

And as your partner pushed open the door, the bright lights of the rink lit everything up. You both moved quickly with a light tapping of both coffee cups in luck, your partner immediately gravitating to the head coach who lingered beside the boards, while you would weave onto the bench and begin your setup. Lens mounted onto the camera body, fixing your settings to this particular arena until you were happy with your picture. It was simply second nature now.

You stood beside the boards, camera switching from player to player with smooth motions as the camera clicked. Turning to each goalie, your camera would linger with the rhythmic clicking — you didn’t need to know all of the story, but a focus on the goalies was always a popular one. Players being called up to the NHL happened so regularly, it was hardly a story, but goalies? Now that got people ticking.

As the session progressed, you watched your partner question each player who came to the bench for water before they’d even had a chance to breathe. You would simply smile at each person, almost sympathetically, and do your job with the clicking of the camera.

Even as the young goalie skated over, angling toward the bench where you stood with a hand outstretched for a bottle, your lips presented a small smile as you waited for your partner to pounce. But as he was too wrapped up with Tolopilo, this goalie was left in silence … for a moment at least. You knew a little about him, of course. A young guy from Latvia, drafted a few years ago now, with a bit of a rocky start to the season. His eyes met yours as the blue and green mask was raised from his face, lips curled into a smile at the first glance.

You spoke without a second thought. It had been some years now since you ended things with your ex, but you’d spent a few years learning Latvian for them — it had been years since you had any reason to use it. 

“Sveiki…” 

Artūrs blinked. The smile on his lips disappeared as confusion was etched in its place. He’d been in Canada for a while now, with only the occasional passing player conversation to give him that little piece of home. He’d never expected this woman to come out with that.

“Sveiki.” The goalie quietly replied, leaning his weight forward upon the boards beside you. “You’re Latvian?”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh slipping through your lips as the camera lowered, your body turning to almost mirror his as you leaned upon the boards.

“I’m not Latvian, but my ex was. I learned some from when we were together.” 

As you spoke, he watched you closely as the smile returned to his face. A smile that you couldn’t help but find contagious. He nodded slowly, thinking silently to himself before his blocker hand began to shake. The glove removed, his hand wiping upon his jersey before it was offered across to you with a grin.

“I’m Artūrs,” He spoke with a little more confidence, capturing your gaze beneath his dark eyes. They were easy to get lost in as you looked at him. “But this lot mostly call me Arty.” 

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, Arty.” You hummed as your hand came to meet his, a slight look of amusing disgust at the sweaty hand of the goaltender. Needless to say it was enough to make the young goalie laugh.

Releasing his hand with a playful swat, you too would wipe your hand upon your jumper as he laughed. You couldn’t blame him, and you too found it funny, but a sweaty hand was not  what you wanted.

“Piedodiet.” He spoke through the laughter, head cocking as he watched you. Your eyes narrowed playful in response to his apology.

“I’m not sure that I believe that you’re sorry.” You found yourself teasing in response, the camera growing heavy in your hands as it sat idle. If your partner looked over, it would look as though you were helping him with his job — but far from it. You were enjoying yourself, more than you realised at the time.

He gave no response, just the rising and falling of his brows. A cheeky grin at his lips as the hand returned the blocker, the bottle returned to it’s place on the boards.

“Will I see you around here more?” Arty called out as he took a few strides away from where you stood. He hoped, silently, that you’d say yes. That you’d be back to photograph and chat more. For whatever reason, he wasn’t quite sure yet, he wanted to see more of you.

It was your turn to stay silent, shrugging with shoulders and hands. You had no idea if your job would bring you back to the Abbotsford Centre, but you hoped that it would.

And as the training session came to end, your partner returned to you with a notepad full of notes and a voice recorder full to burst, you gave a lingering glance back to the goalie as he took his first steps from the ice, and met your eyes with a smile.

Months passed and you had often thought of the grinning Latvian goalie of the Abbotsford Canucks. Your job hadn’t taken you back to the little suburb of Vancouver, though you’d occasionally catch the games on TV. A little curiosity peaking as you’d remember the conversation with him — sometimes, you’d catch yourself smiling as you thought about it. You’d watch his games when you could and read the news in which he featured.

You couldn’t say that you missed him, you barely knew him, but you wanted to know him �� You wanted to be able to miss him.

March rolled around, the end of the regular season was in sight and you’d taken the lead in photography coverage of the Vancouver Canucks for a while now — you’d become a regular at the Rogers Arena, and knew most of the faces of players, staff and partners. You’d even become friends with a number of the wives and girlfriends. You were a familiar face to all.

And you were one of the first on the scene, with your partner in tow, at the announcement of the press conference. Demko’s injury was the worst kept secret in the city, and you’d all been waiting for them to announce it. To know which lucky goalie was getting the call up from Abbotsford.

Journalists and photographers piled into the large room with whispers and nods of acknowledgement. Everyone waiting for Tocchet to make the announcement, and your heart skipped a little beat when he did … for the grinning goalie, Artūrs Šilovs would be taking up the role of back-up in Demko’s absence. 

You wasted no time in getting down to the rink following the announcement, you knew that all the reporters would be clamouring for a word with the captain and the rookie goalie. As the flood of journalists began through the arena, the players were already leaving the ice with only the two goalies remaining with Clarkie. Many left to find the captain and coaches, while a few photographers, yourself included, would snap what shots they could of the two goaltenders.

Your stomach did a spin to see him again, the grin seemingly stuck with glue upon your lips — it had been months, surely he wouldn’t not remember you, you thought. But as his eyes glanced across to the wall of photographers, his gaze did linger upon you. Beneath his mask, he did grin. He’d spent months hoping to see you in Abbotsford, at his training or his game. It was a bitter disappointment when another photographer had been sent down in your place.

And as the nod was given for both goalies to leave the ice, little else mattered to him than making a beeline to you.

“Sveiki.” Arty immediately said as the helmet was raised, drifting on his skates just in front of you. Your smile spread instantly, quietly returning the hello with a hum. “I need to change, but please don’t run off.”

With a curious look etched upon your features, you silently nodded. It was the end of your working day anyway, you needed to sort through the photos of the day, but you could do that while you waited.

So sat upon a chair in the stands, laptop open and photos running through, you edited and submitted your best to your partner who would return to the office to write his piece. Gaze would snap up at the first sound of movement up the steps, it was strange to see him out of his goalie gear and in normal, casual clothing. A pair of jeans, a jumper, and glasses? There was something unexpected about that, but they suited him well. You liked the glasses' look.

“You didn’t come down to Abbotsford again.” He quietly said, the disappointment clear in his voice and on his face. And you felt the sting — but you also felt the twist in your stomach of excitement … he’d wanted to see you again, he’d thought about you.

“They moved me solely to these guys. I’m barely away from this rink now, Arty.” You sighed, hand closing the laptop which rested in your lap. You’d hold it there, fiddling with the corner as you thought. “I watched some of your games from home. I should’ve come down for one or two … to watch.”

“Do you want to go for a coffee, y/n?” Artūrs interjected, impatiently and abruptly. It was almost like he had to get it out before he could stop himself, and he was noticeably nervous as he waited for an answer.

You took a moment, watching him fiddle with the hem of his jumper as he waited — yet his smile never wavered. It was stuck, just as yours was.

“I’d like that.” You finally spoke, returning the laptop to your bag without breaking eye contact. The weight in his chest lifted immediately, a heavy exhale parting his lips as he nodded. You rose with a struggle, the camera bag always seeming to be heavier in that first moment, and Arty was quick to assist. His hand offered out, collecting the strap from your hand as it was slung onto his back with ease.

You walked from the arena together, both grinning wide with occasional glances at the other. A comfortable silence between you, it was simply a nice feeling to walk at each other’s side.

“Es priecājos jūs atkal redzēt.” He finally spoke, breaking the silence with words you didn’t quite know. Your Latvian limited to basic phrases that you learned to speak to your ex’s family during the holidays. 

“What does that mean?” You whispered, leaning a little closer.

“I’m glad to see you again.”

And your heart skipped a little beat.

[smallidarityfan]

smallidarity highschool au

came up with this au like actually 2 years ago where it's mainly empires 2 smallidarity centric, with Jimmy as a student council member and Joel as an honours student who doesn't like the way Jimmy runs things around the school.

As payback for the regulations Jimmy put up that Joel thought was stupid, Joel does these elaborate 'The Office' style pranks on Jimmy (specifically) while Jimmy retaliates by trying his best to dig up dirt on Joel. This banter goes on for a while— however Joel ends up doing the pranks less as a statement, and instead more just to see how Jimmy would react... with his comical, cartoony villain yells, and... weirdly cute face....? (YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI)

very very old au drawings below:

from July 2023

😭😭 joel does NOT look like a highschooler here 😭😭😭😭 (i also wanted to draw angst in the first two ig idk a year later it's pretty cringe [i am still cringe]) (also partially inspired by when I read "Go for it, Nakamura!" and the mc reminded me of joel for no actual reason. or maybe i was just thinking about that manga while drawing smallidarity. idk)

from November 2022:

I think these doodles were genuinely the first instance of me converting from being against mcyt shipping to for shipping LMAOO

[canterbury-bell]

Bunnydoll Writing Week Sept 23 - Sept 29

@beanandberry and I are excited to announce… Bunnydoll Writing Week!

Taking place this upcoming Monday to Sunday, 9/23/24 to 9/29/24, this is an organized opportunity to share some great fanfiction and showcase the Bunnydoll fandom’s wonderful creativity.

The goal of this week is to write Bunnydoll oneshots from start to finish in a few days, sharing whatever you end up with; no word count requirement or pressure to be perfect.

Timeline

Monday 9/23: Select or make up your first prompt and start writing!

Thursday 9/26: Post your first oneshot 

Friday 9/27: Select or make up your second prompt and start writing!

Sunday 9/29: Post your second oneshot 

Want to write, but need an idea? Feel free to use this community-written Bunnydoll prompt list. If you would like to suggest a prompt to add to the free list, we invite you to submit it through this anonymous form. You can submit as many prompts as you'd like. We only ask that any work or prompts submitted remain SFW since all ages are welcome in this challenge.

If you'd like to participate but prefer drawing, comics count! :D

Please reach out to @canterbury-bell or @beanandberry with any questions. We're participating, too.

Be sure to use the hashtag #bunnydollwritingweek24 so we can find and celebrate your work : ) Looking forward to reading and sharing some amazing fics this week!

[gildedphoenix]

I blame @bloggerspam and @stealingyourbones

Once in a while impossible things happen. Less than once in a lifetime, two impossible things happen at the same time and the universe ties them together. Danny standing in the opening gateway of two worlds, core forming instantly in a moment of unbound potential, was the first impossible thing. 

Jason returning from beyond, waking in his own grave, a revenant fueled halfa was the second impossible thing.

While people like to dream of soulmates, it’s not really a thing that happens. It’s impossible. Danny and Jason impossibly share a core. The same core, split in two and giving both of them life. Giving both of them a longing they don’t understand.

[kenchann]

self indulgent doodle of my hades oc getting taken by death in their sleep ✌ haha

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello, I'm not sure if you've explained it or not but going in the depths of Malleus and Leona's character relationship? Like explaining their interactions and how they actually think of one another

Many fan works tend to depict Leona and Malleus as extremely antagonistic toward one another. However, the truth is that their relationship is more like a one sided dislike or annoyance (on Leona’s part). It’s not uncommon for them to bicker or have some tension in their conversations even when they have the same goal in mind such as protecting a harp (Beans Day) or wooing a ghost (although Malleus is not participating for the latter, Leona still insists the ghost would prefer him to Malleus to get that dig in). They’re definitely still on bad terms), but Malleus is generally pretty neutral with Leona unless he is provoked.

Leona’s beef with Malleus is story relevant and makes itself known in book 2. He appears to primarily dislike Malleus because it is thanks to his sheer power that Diasomnia crushes Savanaclaw every inter-dorm tournament, essentially dashing Savanaclaw students’ hopes of being scouted and going pro. Buuut it seems like from the way Leona speaks about his rival, he has long since held these feelings and they aren’t linked to a single inciting incident.

Part of why Leona dislikes Malleus in general seems to be Malleus’s attitude. Leona describes his fellow prince as “pretentious”, “high and mighty”, and acting in ways that show disrespect to him (like in Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, when he casted a spell meant for objects on Leona). He may also take issue with Malleus’s “incomprehensible fae humor”, which Leona references both during Halloween and in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes. Additionally, Leona outright states that he hates people who refuse to listen (Silver) and just march to the beat of their own drum (Rook), which are traits you can argue also fits Malleus (since Malleus didn’t really listen to the upset dorm leaders in his Dorm Uniform vignettes). Leona appears to prefer dealing with Malleus to Silver though, as he says that Malleus’s ears aren’t just “for show”. Interestingly, Leona might dislike Malleus less than Rook; Leona is wary of so much as wishing Rook a happy birthday and refuses to dine next to Rook… yet Leona does sit next to Malleus at the end of Terror is Trending.

Leona is one of the few students who isn’t afraid of Malleus and has the gall to openly insult him (or is rude) on more than one occasion. He doesn’t really show any remorse or intent to apologize. In fact, Leona understands very well what bothers Malleus and often acts on those points of weakness to goad him, whereas it is very rare for Malleus to start the fights. For example, Leona tells Malleus in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, “You thinkin’ you’re gonna get it next time? Well, sorry to break it to you, but no one’s ever gonna invite you,” and, “You’re never gonna have a chance to wear those robes, so put’em away for good already.” This, of course, angers Malleus and leads into the two insulting one another’s physical features and exchanging threats (removing horns, declawing, calling each other animals or implying a lack of humanity, etc.). They similarly insult one another in Terror is Trending (again, Leona instigates: “Hmph, look at Mr. High-Horse over here. Were you flattered to be asked [to have your picture taken]?”) and again in Fairy Gala (Leona again: “Ever consider gettin’ off your tail and cleanin’ up your fellow fae’s mess?”). I’m sure there are tons of other instances you could come up with; these are just the immediate ones that come to my mind. Leona is also resentful about the idea of ever asking for Malleus’s help. He’d rather ask anyone else, even Malleus’s second in command, than ask the guy himself. Funnily enough, Lilia and Silver see these heated conversations as proof of Malleus and Leona’s friendship. I feel like this could also, in part, feed into Leona’s dislike of Malleus, as people having the wrong idea about your relationship can be irritating.

Now, Malleus does appear to care about maintaining amicable relations with representatives of other countries. Often it is he who instructs Sebek to apologize to Leona for being rude—two major instances of this occur in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes and during Vargas Camp. He even personally (and happily) welcomes Leona to Diasomnia in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes, viewing Leona as no different than any other guest.

This goes into the realm of speculation (so please bear with me!!) but it could be said that Malleus has a very… unique view of friendship? So Lilia and Silver may not be too far off when they say that Leona and Malleus are chums in their own weird way. In Glorious Masquerade, Rollo poses a real threat to Malleus and to his people—yet when Malleus experiences genuine fear for the first time, he seems more excited at the novel feeling rather than cower as a result of it. Following the climax, Malleus still presents the song he had prepared as a gift of good will for NBC. He also proceeds to play with Rollo’s guilt to get him to agree to sharing a dance. And THEN Malleus says he looks forward to being invited again????? These are all quite friendly gestures for someone who put you and all your people in danger, my guy… 😂 So perhaps Malleus just gas a very different way of approaching friendships? Hard to say, but that’s some food for thought!

Leona and Malleus have had moments of amicability, so it’s totally possible for them to get along. This happens primarily in Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes; in them, Malleus gifts the birthday boy an antique book in an ancient language (Leona’s best subject). The two then talk about enjoying the freedom of walking around town without an attendant or some servants trailing after them. Being of a similar social status, they are able to understand one another to some extent.

This is going into another point of speculation, but I wonder if Leona and Malleus recognize their similarities beyond this interview. I certainly have; they’re both arrogant princes that deeply desire what the other prince has, and I feel that their animosity, in part, comes from this realization (whether conscious or unconscious). I certainly get the sense that some of Leona’s hatred of Malleus comes from seeing his own desires manifested in him—of being that coveted prince praised for his power, his people lavishing him with affirmations, a crown… All the things Leona doesn’t have.

[beanghostprincess]

I finally finished the Fan Letter fic where the girl and Nami meet (from Nami's POV) but I'm really tired (it's 2am) to make an actual post abt it so here it is:

I know it's not my usual work but if you don't like it keep it to yourself bc I will cry--

[ghost-bxrd]

“This is where you live?”

Jason drops the duffle bag on the counter, “Yeah. It’s no manor, kid. I told you.”

He’s not self conscious. He’s not. This apartment is fuckin’ nice ok? He spent a lot of money on decor and proper kitchenware and furniture and shit.

But Jason also knows that, objectively speaking, it doesn’t hold a candle to Wayne manor and its fifty-something bedrooms. That place is basically its own country.

Bruce nods.

“I like it,” he says solemnly, walking over towards the window to peek through the blinds. The view from up here isn’t exactly panorama level but the building is one of the tallest in Crime Alley and Jason’s apartment is on the top floor, so it does provide a pretty good view of a good portion of the Alley. “It doesn’t feel as empty.”

Jason pauses where he’s resetting the traps and alarms by the door, glancing over his shoulder to where Bruce is starting to tentatively explore the living space and is struck by how violently out of place the boy looks with his rigid posture and elegantly curved eyebrows. Even the plain hoodie, faded hand-me-down jeans and ridiculous wool cap aren’t enough to hide how utterly not Crime Alley born-and-bred he is. Everything about Bruce is basically screaming rich-Bristol-trust-fund-kid.

Which, yeah. Checks out.

Jason clears his throat and clicks the security on, waiting for the small light at the side to switch from green to red.

“Your room’s the one down the hall to the left. Right one is mine. Door at the end of the hall is the bathroom.”

Bruce hikes his backpack up higher on his shoulder, eyes eerily vacant as always, but Jason wants to think that there’s a sliver of curiosity behind that steely gaze anyways as he inclines his head and makes his way down the hall.

As soon as the kid vanishes around the corner Jason allows himself a moment to exhale and run a hand down his face tiredly.

Jesus fucking Christ.

What was he thinking.

How the fuck is he supposed to raise a tiny Bruce Wayne with his older furry counterpart running around Gotham at night hunting criminals? Criminals like Jason?

Nothing. He was thinking nothing. And it’s about to bite him in the ass.

No way can he build a criminal empire and take over the drugs and weapons trade with a traumatized nine year old dependent on him.

God dammit.

[silovsmenot]

This or That | Artūrs Šilovs

Request by anon...

silovs is a media darling. how about something with him and social media admin, like they're trying to get him to do a tiktok or something for the fans and he's just nervous around them

WARNINGS: None at all, as usual, it's 1000% complete fluff. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilovs x reader. NOTES: I absolutely adored this request, and I will never get tired of writing for Arty. WORD COUNT: 1306

As far as jobs go, you were pretty sure that you’d hit the jackpot. The social media admin for the Vancouver Canucks, with pretty much free reign on what you wanted to do. Your job was to get the team trending, to keep the community talking and to make the boys seem ‘real’.

These players were, for intensive purposes, celebrities in Vancouver. If they were spotted on the street, management wanted people to see them as approachable and friendly. It was a good marketing tactic, and you were rolling with it.

The team had so many young guys that it was easy for the most part — they were all ready and willing to get in front of the camera, and do stupid things for the trends. You were having a great time with it. Even some of the older guys were getting into it.

But there was one who was a little more reserved and had, until now, evaded you. You’d exchanged words in passing, you knew the other existed, but he finished training and left without word most days. He kept to himself, and while that was fine for a while, management wanted him to be included.

Artūrs Šilovs couldn’t escape the camera forever.

And today was the day that you were going to get him — you weren’t unfair, you’d find something together that he’d be willing to do. It was never your intention to make any of the guys uncomfortable.

Completely on queue, you saw his head ducking out of the changing rooms with eyes on the nearest door. But there would be no escape from the social media admin today.

“Artūrs!” You shouted, jogging up behind him with a growing smile at your lips. He turned quickly; the Vancouver cap backwards as messy strands of brown hair escaped through the hole. And, as he normally did post training, his glasses rested upon the bridge of his nose.

You’d told yourself when you got this job, no dating players, but he was cute and you could be tempted to break your own rule.

“Sorry, if you’re not busy, would you mind helping me with something?”

You phrased it carefully, knowing he was more likely to turn around and say yes if you said it was to help. And it was to help both of you. As expected, he did nod — he turned on his heels and was ready to follow you.

You both found yourselves smiling at the other, he was full of nerves as you began to walk back into the corridor and he didn’t quite know what to say to you. There were things he was thinking about saying, like how he was thankful that you had been a friendly face to him since he was called up to the Canucks, or how he would’ve liked to spend some time with you, but far from a camera.

Whatever he was thinking as you led him toward the little media room, he didn’t say any of it. Arty just followed with hands buried in his pockets, fiddling with threads with nerves and a small smile upon his lips.

He opened the door before you could reach, holding it wide open for you to enter as you’d say a quiet thank you. With the door closed, it was impossible to not focus on how nervous he so clearly was.

You simply found yourself staring at him for a brief moment, trying to find the words to say that would put his mind at ease.

“Art, I’m not going to ask you to do something that you’re not comfortable with…” You quietly said with a few short steps toward him. “I have an idea and if you’re not happy with it, we don’t do it.”

His brown eyes had been fixated with since you called him that corridor and they made no signs of wavering from you. He was uncomfortable in front of that camera, but it was just nerves with you, and he couldn’t figure out why. He’d grown used to so many people over the last few weeks in Vancouver, but you stood out. You made him smile without a word and while he knew you’d only talk to him to get him in front of that camera, he wanted you to talk to him. It was all quite confusing in his head, but pushing through it all, he’d simply nod in response to you.

A quiet, sheepish ‘okay’ coming from his lips.

And so, you began to explain your idea, and it was simple. An easy ‘this or that’, with things from Canada vs back in home of Latvia. It would take a little work to find a comparison, or as near as you could both get, but it was a way for him to reveal a little bit of home to the Canuck fanbase.

“I like the idea… Let’s do it.” Artūrs finally said as you finished your explanation, taking a moment to dramatically gasp for air after you’d talked non-stop for a couple of minutes. You couldn’t help the triumphant nod that you gave at his answer, the smile spread across your features from ear to ear. A smile that quickly caught upon his own lips.

All it took was a piece of paper, five minutes to sort the ‘this or that’ options and you were both ready. His steps were hesitant as they bought in before the green screen, the little camera now upon him.

“First one is nice and simple, your left is Rīga and your right is Vancouver — your favourite city is …?” And you paused. He’d told you that his answer was Vancouver, but he stepped to his left which caused a quiet laugh to part your lips.

He stared at you, pinkening in the cheeks, for a moment as he tried to figure out what he’d done. Once he did, he took two quick steps to his right with hands waving in apology.

“Arty, you can calm down. We’re no rush with this, just think about it and take your time.” Your voice was soft; reassuring and genuine, and it worked. He stopped staring awkwardly at the camera, and simply found your gaze yet again. And there? He felt more comfortable.

Now you had to stand directly behind the camera to make it work, but it did work from there. He kept your gaze, and with clammy hands from nerves, he made the right steps each time. Another five minutes later and you were done. It all needed throwing together for a video to post, but you had what you needed … and there was a hidden, but shared, disappointment in that. He thought about making a few more mistakes to stay longer, and you thought about asking just a few more unnecessary questions to keep him there.

Neither of you made your excuse to stay as you were both nervous. You walked him to the door of the media suite with a melancholy weight upon your shoulders, leaning against the door frame as he’d linger just beyond.

“This wasn’t too bad, was it?” You asked with a slightly teasing tone, just enough to make him smile again. And he did smile, he smiled wide and nodded his head as he removed the cap and messed at his hair with his free hand.

“It was almost fun.” He quickly said, and you felt the slight fluttering in your stomach. “Just let me know if you need me again, at any point.”

That only serve to make the fluttering more unruly. Your mouth dry in surprise as you were simply forced to nod your head. You didn’t take your eyes off him until he was nearly out of sight, and you just missed the sight of him turning back to catch a final glimpse of you.

[itsallaboutbl]

Plawan. Are you the one Methas sent to compete?

[greensbeanspotatoestomatoes]

@lara-cairncross I hope you don’t mind, but I wrote a little fic about your AU :) This would be Donnie showing his brace to his brothers after his leap of faith.

(Also you can definitely read Donnie & Kendra’s vibes as a crush if you want /pos 😂)

===========

“Gentlemen, if you would be so kind,” Donnie motions for his brothers to take a seat on the chairs he clearly positioned near the edge of the branch.

“Dee, what are we doing here?” Leo sighs, exasperated by his brother’s dramatics, “You know I love spending time with you guys, but I actually have deliveries to make today.”

Raph throws an arm over Leo’s shoulders, “Pssh, relax Leo, you’re fast enough to make it there in time.”

“Ok I know you’re teasing me,” Leo shoots his brother a side eye, before crossing his arms over his chest in defiance, “but I could definitely make it there and back. With time to spare.”

Mikey laughs while Raph just sighs and they all take their seats.

They’re fairly high up in the Pixie Dust Tree, in an area Leo knows not many fairies fly past. It’s starting to make him a little concerned that his jokes about Donnie murdering Kendra one day aren’t jokes anymore.

His brother woke them up early this morning, telling them that he had something to show them, but refusing to answer what it actually is. He also lugged a massive bag with him all the way here, but didn’t let any of them help with it. And the chairs being up here already proves that Donnie has clearly planned this out. It’s really making Leo believe that this is the last he’s ever going to see of Kendra.

“Yes, yes we all know Leon is fast,” Donnie bats the statement away and turns to his bag, “now if I can bring your attention to why I've brought you here today.”

“Which you still haven't explained, by the way,” Mikey grouches, not quite his sunny self in the dim light of the morning.

Donnie grins in a mischievous way, “All part of the surprise, dear Angelo! Now I need you all to close your eyes.”

Leo rolls his eyes, but closes them anyway, knowing that if he complains they’ll just spend longer up here anyway. “Donald, if you did something to Kendra, just tell us, it’ll make hiding the body easier.”

Mikey snickers beside him.

“I– Wha– No! I haven't done anything to Kendra. Not yet anyway,” Donnie moves on quickly, “I made something and you’re going to like it. Trust me.”

Now, most fairies in the Hidden Hollow are under the impression that Donnie doesn’t do feelings, an achieved product of his so called “Emotionless Bad-Boy Image”. But Leo can hear the excitement in his brother’s voice. He’s fiddling with something in the bag, and the suspense is honestly starting to have an effect on Leo. He’s getting excited too.

“And… open!”

He opens his eyes (Still semi prepared to see Kendra trapped in some kind of way) and is a little confused by what he’s presented with. Donnie is standing near the edge of the branch. His wings, usually down, are spread proudly on either side of him. The tattered one is covered in something Leo can’t quite make out.

Donnie shoots them a smile, and Leo hears a whisper that sounds like “Leap of faith,” and then the tinker fairy drops backwards off the branch and out of sight.

“DONNIE!!” Mikey screams, and Raph leaps out of his chair but Leo, Leo just dives. There's no thoughts about windspeed, hawks, humidity or any of the other things Leo normally has to consider when he flies. There’s no thoughts about how stupid his genius of a brother is, or about how if he isn’t fast enough Donnie might—. No, there is simply the need to move.

And move he does.

He drops like a stone from the height of the Tree, colours blurring past him as he streaks after his brother. His heart is pounding wildly, filled with shock and dread, urging himself to go faster, faster. He thinks he has tears in his eyes, but he tells himself that it’s just from flying at this speed.

He actually moves so fast he overshoots Donnie, who is very safely fluttering in the air.

“Donnie?” Leo rights himself immediately and shoots back up towards his brother. “Donnie! Haha!!” He zips a quick circle around his brother, trying to get his racing heart to calm down. He can see the thing on Donnie’s wing now. It’s a brace. The contraption covering his tattered wing is so delicate, clearly made by Donnie himself. Thin strips reach up the wing, acting as a scaffold for the pieces to stretch across, giving Donnie enough surface area to generate lift. He might not be into science like his brother, but he knows a thing or two about flying, and Donnie’s design is genius.

He’s so relieved it takes him a second to realise that they are still very much hovering above the ground which means, “Holy shit! You're flying!!”

He’s giddy with excitement, this is all he’s ever wanted for Donnie! Leo grabs him by the hands, and spins them in the air with joy. Donnie can clearly sense what Leo’s about to do because he panics and yells, “Nardo wait!” but it’s too late, because Leo tosses him upwards and crashes into him with a hug.

“Hahaha! This is amazing!”

“Ohmigosh! Donnie’s flying!”

Two more sets of arms encircle them. Their other brothers have caught up and Leo can feel in the tightness of his hug how Raph’s panic morphs into shock and then amazement.

“Yes, yes I can fly. Hurrah,” Donnie pats the back of Raph’s shoulder, “Although my wings are still delicate so…”

They all immediately release Donnie. And then Raph whacks him on the back of the head.

“You idiot! What were you thinking! You gave Raph a heart attack!”

“Well I’ve done the jump before so I know the brace works–”

“You WHAT?”

“ –I just needed to show you guys too.”

“Yeah but you could’ve warned us Dee.” Mikey pokes him in the shoulder, a hint of Doctor Delicate Touch peeking through.

Donnie shoots him a cheeky grin, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Leo’s amazed. He’s still chuckling. Of course Donnie would build himself a way to fly. Something as silly as a tattered wing was never going to stop him. It was only a matter of time.

========

Also not seen:

Donnie pretty much immediately sagging, because his wings aren’t used to flying for extended periods yet, and Raph hoisting him onto his shoulders to fly them back to the tree.

========

Anyways hope you enjoyed! Go give Lara’s AU a look. It’s amazing 🤩

[ditzyredrobin]

—Tim Drake following his encounter with the Widower (Red Robin #4 - Council of Spiders: Part One)

[ravenofazarath2]

I’ve been seeing a fair amount of discourse over whether or not Ricky September was a good person, and I feel like a lot of it takes a very black and white view of Ricky as a character.

One of the recurrent themes in this season (and, well, a large portion of the show), is the importance of hope. And I think that’s what Ricky is supposed to represent.

Hope that there’s kindness in the world.

I think we can all agree that that was basically his thing, right? He didn’t have to help Lindy through the slug monsters, but he did. He didn’t have to try to save her life, but he did.

Everyone else we meet in FineTime is self-centered, vain. Their friendships feel artificial. And that’s probably because they are artificial since they never talk face-to-face. They literally live inside a spherical object that also acts as an echo chamber they can personally curate. That’s one of the most literal metaphoric interpretations of “in a world of their own” I can think of.

And right when it seems that life this way will be the death of them all, here comes this ray of sunshine named Ricky September. He immediately shows Lindy kindness even though she’s a complete stranger. And then they hug, what is likely the first empathetic touch ever in her life. Tells her that he spends most of his time unplugged and reading and learning. He does the Doctor grabs a hand and yells run thing. And when he sees that Homeworld was destroyed, he lies to Lindy so that he doesn’t kill the hope that’s keeping her running for her life—to see her mom again.

I know can’t be the only one who thought, “Oh, maybe his kindness will rub off on Lindy, and she’ll be a better person in the end!” That’s the hope.

That’s what Ricky represents; he’s the hope that, as long as empathy exists in this world, things will get better.

Hope that people can change.

The only shadow in this perfect ray of hope is the fact that, just like everyone else in FineTime, Ricky September is racist.

His micro-agressions aren’t as, well, aggressive as Lindy’s, but they are there. His hands are fidgety and he's distracted. He's giving awkward smiles and chuckles. He does seem uncomfortable working with the Doctor.

But we know that Ricky has empathy. He shows it when he saves Lindy, but I think the most jarring example is when he says he read about manual labor and said, "That life was tough." Lindy's response. "My sit at a desk for two hours and gossip with my friends job's not easy. I get chapping." And he learned this empathy through reading instead of spending all his time online. Which is where he learned about pulse codes, too. So he's empathetic and willing to learn.

(On a side note: Lindy's lack of empathy by this point should have clued us in that she was beyond redemption)

And that's I have no doubt that, had he survived, he would have pushed his biases aside and taken the Doctor up on the offer to travel. He would have worked to unlearn the institutionalized hate he was raised in. He's the hope that people—that we can change, become better people.

Unfortunately, Ricky is just different enough for Lindy to other him in order to justify sacrificing him to save herself.

The real lesson Ricky September teaches us.

Unfortunately, Ricky being a symbol for hope is exactly why he had to die by, essentially, Lindy's hand.

Hope simply existing isn't enough to bring change. If we just sit back and hope for a better world, nothing will get done. We have to act on that hope, be that hope, because if we don't, those trying to maintain the hate will snuff us out. And not just for ourselves, but for our fellow man.

If we just sit back and hope for a better world, nothing will get done. We have to act on that hope, be that hope. And not just for ourselves, but for our neighbors, too. If we show each other empathy, we can reach more, spread more kindness, be the change.

But if there's no empathy, then there's no hope for our survival.

And that, I believe, is the lesson RTD wanted us to see.