#except without being able to actually understand any of it

[giveemhales]

🦇 My 30 Favorite Batfam Fics of 2024 🦇

I’m continuing my annual tradition of sharing some of my favorite fics that came out in the past year (you can see last year’s list here). This is just a way for me to show my love and appreciation for the many amazing artists/writers who keep the fandom alive. If you read any of these fics, please make sure to leave some kudos and comments! And there are so many amazing fics I wasn’t able to include, so I encourage you to show some appreciation to your own favorites!

Please be sure to read all tags and warnings. I’ve provided warnings for the darkest fics.

All of these fics were completed in 2024. I only do one fic per author, but definitely check out all of these authors’ other works. Also, most of these feature tim, because he is my favorite. Now, without further ado…

Sparkles by @iselsis (2k, jason & bruce, fluff, a/b/o dynamics, batman finds an omega kid covered in cuddle pollen and going into heat)

until the bounds of death have been unwound by @vinelark (2.9k, tim & jason, fantasy and angst with a hopeful ending, tim is a demigod and he goes to save jason from the underworld) (the sequel is also great!)

Sacrificial Lamb by @kgraces (3.3k, tim & bruce, angst with a happy ending, bruce makes a deal with the devil to trade tim’s life for jason’s, his kids later find out) (this fic messed me up, i actually think about it all the time)

wouldn’t wish it by @green-eyedfirework (3.3k, jason & damian & tim, whump/angst with a hopeful ending, talia calls jason to save his brothers from the league of assassins) *READ THE TAGS

Lucky Number Three by @sohotthateveryonedied (3.4k, tim & bruce, angst and hurt/comfort, bruce has to deal with the consequences of his actions while he was under the influence of truth serum) (won’t make much sense unless you read this fic which honestly destroyed me)

Anything by @byrambles (3.5k, dick-centric, angst with a happy ending, bruce tells dick he wants to adopt his siblings, dick assumes this does not mean him)

possess by @envysparkler (4.6k, bruce-centric, angst with a happy ending, bruce is possessed by a demon that want, fortunately jason has magic swords)

The Guilt Never Really Left, You Know by @neuro-psyche (4.9k, dick & jason, angst with a happy ending, nightwing saves and then confronts red hood) *READ THE TAGS

Sacrifice by @onemuseleft (5.4k, bruce & his kids, light angst with a happy ending, the justice league is successfully negotiating with alien invaders until they request the sacrifice of one of Batman’s children)

you’ll be alright [or else] by @call-me-quill (5.9k, tim & jason, angst with a happy ending, tim takes a bullet meant for jason and doesn’t understand why jason is so upset)

the bed and breakfast by @adelfie (6.2k, dick-centric, fluff and angst with a happy ending, dick is stranded at a b&b during blizzard, things seem fine until he realizes he’s being held hostage)

with the exception of… by @dss1101 (6.4k, tim-centric, hurt/comfort, everyone realizes tim had a very different experience with his batman than all the other kids)

How to be a Little Brother by @die-erlkonigin6083 (7.4k, damian-centric, fluff and light angst, damian tries to learn how to be a good younger brother)

Reply ‘STOP’ to Unsubscribe by @motleyfam & @batmoniker (8.4k, jason & tim, angst with a happy ending, tim imagines his dad when he’s hit with fear gas at school) (this will probably make more sense if you read the rest of the series first, but I don’t think is strictly necessary (but you should read the series anyway bc it’s great))

Of A Genius’ Legacy by @sparkoflena (8.5k, tim-centric, fluff, tim graduates high school, a lot more people than he expected show up)

Flatline by @dragonpyre (8.9k, jason-centric, angst with a happy ending, jason is injected with a drug that basically shuts down his body, he has to watch his family’s reactions to finding his “dead” body)

Our Dead Drink the Sea by @ghost-bxrd (9.2k, jason-centric, angst with a happy ending, jason is a selkie and bruce kept his pelt when he died, the red hood takes the pelt and the batfam want it back)

In The Back Room by WhumpKing223 (9.9k, dick & jason & tim, heavy angst with a hopeful ending, batman discovers black mask is holding three boys captive, bruce wayne decides to take them in) (the rest of the series is about the boys’ time with bruce and it is great) *READ THE TAGS

Boom, Boom, Pow! by LilaVaporizer9000 (11.1k, tim-centric, absolute hilarity, kid tim steals the batmobile and wreaks havoc/ saves the day)

how to feed your local demon by @inkpotsprite (14.5k, tim & dick & bruce, fluff and humor and light angst, dick is an incubus and isn’t doing well after jason’s death, tim shows up to help)

the fire under your feet by @phneltwrites (17.8k, tim & jason & damian, angst with a happy ending, tim shows up to the league of assassins while jason is still there, they must team up to save damian from ra’s)

Perfect Storm by @banditywrites (25.1k, tim-centric, angst with a happy ending, tim is winning the game of not needing anything from his parents, but it starts getting harder and his neighbors are concerned)

you’re not defenseless, i’ll be your shelter by @fandomtrash-whataboutit (26.3k, tim-centric, angst with a hopeful ending, tim is lex luthor’s captive and is in charge of watching over the new captives- young justice) (the only batfam relationship in this is tim & dick, but the rest of the series has more batfam plus timkon and is so good)

Brother of the Fucking Year by @aceofdivinechlorophyll (26.4k, jason-centric, fluff and crack, jason makes plans to chaotically meet and bond with his siblings… as red hood) (will probably make more sense if you read the first part of the series first, which is also funny and great)

Join the Club by @cephalog0d (26.9k, jason & tim & dick, fluff and humor and light angst, where tim and jason meet at school, tim is dick’s biggest fan, and jason thinks it would be funny to make them meet) (this was filled for me for FTH but I would have included this fic regardless, it’s great)

What Christmas Means To Me by @taralaurel (29.9k, tim & dick & jason & bruce, fluff and angst, tim meets bruce when he is dressed as santa and asks for his parents to be home for Christmas, the batfam takes this as a challenge)

Screaming In The Dark (While We All Play Our Part) by @yourwakingnightmares (32.9k, dick & jason & tim & damian, heavy angst with a hopeful ending, the batboys are captives of a very evil batman, they escape and go to the justice league for help) (I also rec the sequel, which is ongoing and great) *READ THE TAGS

The Right Substitution is Key by @addictedapple (34.4k, jason-centric, fluff and crack and light angst, nightwing and batman go missing, robin asks red hood to fill in as batman)

the loneliness in worth by @yeeyee123 (56.1k, tim & damian, angst with a happy ending and humor, tim is supposed to be training in paris, he instead ends up with the league of assassins and decides he’s gonna help damian get to his father)

Northern Attitude (I Was Raised on Little Light) by @theskeptileptic (103.2k, tim-centric, heavy angst with a happy ending, tim is bruce’s biological son, jack drake has been punishing him his whole life for this, the batfam just want tim in their life) (technically not finished, but I didn’t put it in the WIP section as there is only one chapter left and it’s honestly at a satisfying stopping point) *READ THE TAGS, there is graphic child abuse

+5 WIPs I’d love to see more of in 2025!

[Refuge] by @raberbagirl (7.6k, tim & jason & dick, mostly fluff, the boys take refuge from the streets in the abandoned and supposedly haunted Wayne manor, the spirit of the manor is just happy to care for the kids)

a cuckoo in the nest by @antebunny (9.4k, tim-centric, angst and fluff, bruce makes a deal with the fae to get jason back, he has to take tim in in return, tim just wants to be loved)

Mine by @millytsworld (18k, jason & dick, angst with a happy ending, dick is the right hand man to an infamous mob boss (bruce) and decides jason is his new little brother, jason completely misunderstands dick’s intentions) *READ THE TAGS

Losing Time by hatlessmule (40.3k, tim-centric, angst (hopefully with a happy ending), tim finds himself in a universe where he doesn’t exist, the batfam want to know who this flighty kid is)

Care and Keeping and Kryptonite by @mild-and-hammered (96.9k, superbat ft. the bat kids, fluff and light angst, mild-mannered reporter clark is injured and has to stay with playboy bruce wayne and neither know the other’s secret identity, meanwhile bruce’s kids start meddling to bring the two closer together)

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to “cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito

TW: slight NSFW, degradation, dehumanization, Stockholm Syndrome, Mahito in and of himself, platonic to romantic yandere

fem reader

Mahito makes it a point to treat you like an animal – his human pet.

Ever since he first took you. The cage, the collar, the petting, and the treats. 

Most of the time, when he talks to you, he acts as though you’re incapable of understanding complex conversation, using only a few words and simple commands – a smile stretching his face, stroking your head when you do good. Other times, he acts as though he’s forgotten you can even speak at all. The worst part is – you don’t really know whether he’s faking or not. 

He takes you for walks and plays with you – letting you off the leash for a game of hide´n´seek in the forest where he chases you down barefoot – he doesn’t really care about the rules or that he’s breaking the basic premise of the game. He just laughs, liking the way you pant and wince against the mossy floor after he’s hunted and tackled you down for the umpteenth time, sweaty while you beg him to take you home with teary eyes and puffy cheeks. Home – being where he keeps you.

You used to refuse, you used to run away and fight him when he caught you – with scratching and clawing and biting and barking, but you soon learned to behave. He told you he had no use for rabid pets and threatened you with transfiguration, warning you not to bore him, and ultimately – after having seen him twist enough people into mockeries – you stopped doing much more than obey.

You’re constantly blue with bruises and stinging from scratches – but you wash in the hot springs when Mahito brings you along – soaking your aching muscles in the warmth while he cheats in playing Marco Polo, sneaking a peak and tagging you with a laugh – awfully resembling that of a child. You swear you often have to shake the feeling of mothering him out of your head before doing something regrettable.

Other times, he’ll take you to the beach. You asked him once how it was possible, but he’d just booped your nose with a smile and told you it was something you wouldn’t be able to wrap your little head around – and, looking towards the horizon of the never-ending sea, inside what you could have sworn was a concrete building, you couldn’t help but agree with him.

Sometimes you see his friends and hide behind him. He thinks it funny and excuses you, laughing out that you’re shy. And you suppose he’s right. 

You used to be shy around him, too. You don’t know when you accepted it – being his pet.

Lately, he’s been inviting you to sleep with him in his hammock instead of your cage. And everything except your left brain betrays you as you lie snug against his side, with his arm softly holding you around your midriff. He’s so warm, and your whole body feels cottony at the pleasantness of another’s embrace after having gone so long without it. Actually, you almost cry, resting your head atop the rise and fall of his chest, closing your eyes to the steady beat of his heart thumping just beneath your ear. In the moment, you even forget he isn’t human. It just feels nice. 

You don’t even mind when he dances his fingers up your arm in ticklish touches. Instead, you nuzzle into him with something so vulnerable as a moan leaving your lips. 

His eyes travel from reading the pages of his book to the blissful look on your face and the way your smaller hand grips his tunic – but he doesn’t make much of it aside from raising a brow.

He’s seen scenes like this at the theatre – sappy love stories Junpei used to cry his eyes out over – awkward teenagers in dark silent bedrooms and clothes on the floor, then kisses and hugs and naked flesh and sweat and heavy breaths and moaning. He can’t deny it makes him curious despite never having felt any personal need to truly understand any of it. It's a human thing after all.

Your warmth makes him wonder, though. He’s always enjoyed the soft feel of your skin on his fingertips, whether you’re trembling or not – it has an interesting texture – warm and doughy. He could imagine it would feel good pressed against his body, too.

Without a word, he tugs your shirt up your torso, pulling on it until you raise your arms and allow him to remove it entirely. You became a little tense then, hiding your naked chest from him by folding your arms. 

He takes off his tunic just as casually, and you don’t understand it, but suddenly you feel a little blushy. But you don’t say anything – almost as though you’ve forgotten you can speak just the way he pretends.

His skin’s ashen and pale – but his torso is just like a normal guy’s – toned with muscles, two nipples, and a belly button. Oh, and stitches. Like a patchwork.

He lifts his arm, and you take the cue, laying down again – now skin to skin. He’s even warmer now, you note – and something about the feel of bare skin makes your head hot. And you can't help how that heat spreads between your thighs – but you keep it to yourself.

He lifts his book and begins reading it again, turning the pages with the same hand he holds it up with. But his free hand travels from resting on your hip to your chest.

You suppress a shudder by biting your lip, and he cups your tit with absentminded curiosity – paying you not a glance while his eyes lazily skim the words in front of him, giving your breast a firm squeeze.

He keeps track of your small shufflings despite you trying to keep them to yourself – charting what touches elicit your reactions. Soon, he finds your nipple, feeling it stiffen with yearning beneath his thumb, pushing it like a button only for it to bud out again. You stifle a sound he hasn’t heard from you before.

He reads his book finished, then lets it drop flat on the floor beneath you. His statement is like a resolution. “Let’s play a new game.”

You peek up at him from the nook of his arm. “Game?” You ask, but he's already maneuvering your body despite it causing an unsteady swing in the hammock.

He ignores both it and your question. Giving you those very curt commands one would say to a trained pet. “Up on my lap.”

You follow. “Okay-”

You’re straddling him next. Bare-chested while he lifts both hands to cup each tit.

You’re fully flushed now, face steadily getting dewy from the heat as you look away – bowing your head off to the side with your teeth sunk into your lip.

He’s playing. Groping the pillows with fingers now swallowed in the fat before releasing again, twisting the perky nips with eyes feeling a little foggy at the sight. His mouth suddenly waters, thinking about how it looks as though they were made to be eaten – no, not eaten exactly, but something else, something similar...

Indulging the thought, he leans in and envelopes the sensitive things between his lips, sucking on them with his warm wet tongue circling and flicking the point.

Old instincts resurface at the pleasant feeling and you grind your hips down on his lap without thinking.

He falls victim to it, too – taking your hips in both hands while grinding whatever it is that’s gaining weight between his thighs up into that place between yours.

The feeling is more than nice, forcing his entire body to be both mellow and tense with a hunger for more all at the same time.

He presses his face entirely against your chest, nuzzling between the soft mounds there with his cheek. Hands slipping from your hips to pull you closer and grind you harder down on his lap, slithering his arms around the small of your back and hugging you hard.

And you don’t want to think about how fucked up it is when you need it so badly – rolling your hips down, riding that bump you feel nudged against your crotch – like it's the only source of comfort you've had for months. You think about its size – it feels big – you can’t help but picture it – long and pale, probably with a curve and a sharp spine – fuck, you need it – want it pounding your guts, want his pelvis slapping against your clit as his fat cock shoves against your womb – filling you up with thick and filthy warmth-

You still with a shudder when you climax, breaths heavy and shaky. In the blind chase, you’d caressed his head and held it to your chest like a lover would, hugging him close with your body pressed flat against him.

He’s also panting, hot and damp huffs dewy against your skin.

There's something sticky in his pants… and he could have sworn your souls had merged there for a moment...

He’s never felt that before.

[aptericia]

Not proud to be here.

--

Ok, here goes draft like 5 of this fucking post. I spent 4 hours tossing and turning in bed last night thinking about this, and then this morning I found a tumblr post that really helped me understand what I was trying to say.

The post talks about how aromantic "advocates" claim that "aros don't take up resources, so there's no reason not to include them!" And if that's actually what people believe, I think I can finally articulate why it is that I feel so alienated in queer spaces.

It's because aspecs in general aren't "welcomed" by much of the queer community. We're tolerated. We perhaps get the luxury of not being contradicted on our own identities, or not being specifically kicked out of LGBTQ-only spaces, but that's the whole point: what we get out of the queer "community" is people NOT doing things, not actually doing things FOR us. And that, frankly, is not enough. We deserve conversations about us. We deserve to have others consider our feelings, even when making lighthearted jokes. We deserve varied, respectful representation in media. We deserve the active deconstruction of amatonormativity in society. We deserve to have space made for us, rather than at most being told we should "go take up more space!" ourselves.

Of course, the reality is that my being aspec is a personal matter that does not inherently affect anyone else. But the same can be said for literally any queer identity. Your being gay doesn't say anything about me, so of course I shouldn't hurt you for it, but why should I help you either? Because your happiness and comfort are important. The same goes for aspecs.

And most of the time, I don't even need anyone to make space for or expend resources on me; I can live fine in everyday, non-queer-specific places without mentioning my identity at all. But it's the queer community that claims it will make that space for me, doesn't, and then acts defensive and morally pure if I call out the hypocrisy because "we're queer too, you can't erase our identities to advocate for yours!!!!"

Again, this post isn't about specifics. I have queer friends who are incredibly thoughtful and supportive about my identity, just as I have non-queer friends who are. I find more solidarity in aspec-only communities, as well as trans/genderqueer ones, although there are still many exceptions. This post is also not about amatonormative ideology, which is extremely common from queer and non-queer people alike. This post is about the reason I've felt so betrayed by the queer community.

--

On a personal note, I remember being so excited when I started identifying as aromantic (and later asexual). Fitting myself into labels has been a lifelong struggle for me; to this day I still can't confidently say if I'm White or PoC, neurotypical or neurodivergent, abled or disabled, cisgender or not cisgender. I continue to struggle making friends because I don't fall into social cliques. To discover that I officially, certainly, was LGBTQ+ lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. And now I'm just so sad to find that despite that, I'm still stuck in the middle. I didn't get rewarded with a community. I still feel alienated from both queer and non-queer people. I know it was silly to get my hopes up when there's such vast diversity in both groups, but it really was a disappointment. Going to my first Pride parade last year was really the moment where I realized this.

[itsclydebitches]

Just finished Good Omens 2 and I'm honestly boggling at the Aziraphale hate because yes, his decision led to the angsty cliffhanger, but it makes SO much sense for his character. Not just in a "Religious brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy" kinda way but also a "Aziraphale has no reason to believe this isn't the perfect solution" way. That scene among the nebula is crucial because it establishes that Crowley loved being an angel—reveled in his ability to create and allow his creations to grow kinda like plants—and the only problem was that someone else was calling the shots, someone who wouldn't listen to his criticism. Aziraphale has also spent 6,000+ years watching Crowley do good, all the while forced to deny the fact that he's "nice" lest embracing his original nature get him into trouble with hell. Now, Metatron comes along with an offer that fixes everything in one fell swoop. Crowley can be an angel again, be nice without censure, his ideas and criticisms will hold weight because he'll be answering to Aziraphale, and they'll be together.

It strikes me that Aziraphale isn't there when Crowley sees Gabriel's trial, ergo he likewise doesn't see the (non)acknowledgement that there's an institutional problem up in Heaven. There just happen to have been two archangels who called it quits. Same when Gabriel blurts that phrase out to Crowley. Aziraphale has always been more blind to the ways in which Heaven is "toxic" (for very understandable reasons) and this season he's continually sheltered from new evidence of its structural problems. The plot just preaches to the choir: Crowley. He likewise wouldn't see the conflict Gabriel and Beelzebub have caused as evidence of an underlying problem because that's a problem he and Crowley will no longer share. Why would they be worried about Heaven still being unable to accept partnerships between angels and demons when Crowley will no longer be a demon? And that's something he presumably wants based on Aziraphale's memories of him and the ongoing admission that he's lonely.

The way I see it, they got what they thought they wanted at the start of Season 2. Heaven and Hell are keeping an eye on them, but functionally they're left alone. Crowley can spend all the time he wants with Aziraphale and nothing comes of that except that they're both continually named traitors and the higher-ups grumble about it. If Gabriel had never shown up, things should have been perfect based on Crowley's "Let's just run away and have each other's company" standards. Better, even, considering that they get to be together on their beloved Earth, rather than being bored out in Alpha Centauri without any sushi, plants, books, or Bentleys. And yet... Crowley doesn't strike me as particularly happy. Because, you know, based on that kiss he wants to be with Aziraphale, not just literally be with him, but the point of this post is that his "Let's run away and be an 'us'" falls totally flat when he doesn't explain that specific desire to Aziraphale; the desire to change what an 'us' means. From Aziraphale's perspective they're already an 'us.' That was the entire point of "our side" in Season 1 and now they can continue to be 'us' up in Heaven. Plus, Aziraphale likely sees this as a sacrifice on his part. He will give up his bookshop, his Earthly indulgences, take on the responsibilities of leadership (which I don't think he actually wants for a variety of reasons), and spend the rest of eternity in a place where he's felt so small because he thinks that's what Crowley wants. Crowley was happy as an angel. Crowley wanted them to be together without risk of permanent discorporation. They were able to achieve that after not-Armageddon and he still wasn't happy... so surely those two things together will do the trick. Crowley never actually articulates how he wants their relationship to change and the kiss comes much too late, when he's already rejected what Aziraphale must see as a perfect, selfless solution he's secured for them. Even if Crowley wasn't always moving too fast for him, an overture of romance isn't going to go well after that.

Is this crushing and angsty and devastating as a hiatus? Damn straight, my heart it breaking. But it's a good setup. More importantly, it makes perfect sense for their characters, particularly when they're still talking past one another. Aziraphale is someone who has always moved more slowly as a matter of course, as an angel he has remained immersed in the rhetoric of Heaven, his main avenue of breaking free of that (Crowley) has a huge communication problem (to say nothing of his own denial. He only made headway with the help of Nina and Maggie, seconds before Aziraphale shows up), and Metatron (in a no doubt incredibly manipulative manner) has just offered Aziraphale a job that presumably makes him happy AND Crowley happy AND allows him to maintain the moral this-is-how-the-universe-works perspective he's had since he was literally created. Of course he's going to say yes to all that!! And sure, there are problems in Heaven, Aziraphale isn't completely blind, but he can fix them now that he's in charge. How? Well... he'll figure that out later! Kinda like how he's been making plans on the fly this entire season. That seems logical from his perspective, right? It's not like he's gotten a crash-course in the concept of the master's tools never being able to dismantle the master's house...

[theonlyhonoredone]

Yuji BF Headcanons

Pairing: Yuji Itadori x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: my idea of how Yuji is as a partner

Masterlist

bf!Yuji is crushing hard, he’s down so bad it’s actually pathetic. He fumbles his words in front of you, stutters when he tries to compliment you, and is the first to like any and everything you post. He thinks you’re the funniest person alive and sticks to you like velcro. He’s always asking if you want to hang out or train or anything else he can do to get you in the same room as him. He waits for the absolute perfect opportunity to ask you out, either taking you to some big festival or saving up for months to take you to some fancy restaurant.

bf!Yuji who fakes being totally confident when he asks and then freaks out when you say yes. He’s gasping and asking if you really mean it and then hugging you so tight you almost pass out. Things fall into place quickly after that, you two are a natural fit.

bf!Yuji always keeps you on your toes. He likes for dates to be really special and exciting so he always wants to do something grand. He won't admit it to you, but he knows he's going to die young. He's living on an extended death sentence which means he won't get the long happy life he truly wants with you. He hopes to create as many special and lasting memories with you as he can, hoping that he'll be able to relive them on his death bed and you'll be able to find comfort in them when he's gone.

bf!Yuji does not consider nights in or casual hang outs as dates because they aren't special enough. That doesn't mean he loves those moments any less though, in fact nights in with you are one of his favorite things on earth. The man is glued to you 24/7 so of course he’s excited for any chance to cuddle. He needs every part of his body to touch every part of yours, he’ll smother you any chance he gets. If you have to get up to pee or anything really he’s whining and asking you to stay. He gives you the sad puppy eyes whenever you escape from his arms and pouts until you return to him.

bf!Yuji uses his crazy athletic ability to show off to you any chance he can get. He’s always telling you to watch him do something he's sure you'll find impressive. He'll offer to carry you everywhere you go. He gets butterflies every time you call him strong or tell him how cool he is. If you go to an arcade he will drag you over to every game that involves any amount of athletic ability and make you watch him set a new high score. You always love it, except for the time he broke a machine and got you kicked out.

bf!Yuji is constantly coming up with new pet names for you. They are sometimes sweet but more often over the top and totally ridiculous. He’s constantly changing your name in his phone too, and he spends hours editing pictures of you to make your profile picture. He likes adding all sorts of little stickers and drawing little hearts around your face.

bf!Yuji also loves to post these and add a long caption calling you his little schmoopy schnookums pie while he declares his undying love for you. His over the top gestures are how he shows you that you’re always on his mind. He doesn’t care if anyone else thinks it’s embarrassing or cringy, he just cares that you know how much he loves you. He loves you so much that he sometimes feels like he might explode if he doesn’t express it. 

bf!Yuji is clingy to the point of annoyance. You do have to remind him that you need space and time alone and while he might not understand (he wants to spend every moment with you), he respects your needs and wants. He wants you to be happy all the time and if that means leaving you alone for a few hours then he will.

bf!Yuji tries his best to let the two of you have quiet moments together too. Even though he is a yapper at heart, he manages to sit for hours without saying a word, sometimes. As time goes on he starts to treasure these moments and find a lot of comfort in just sitting beside you, not talking about anything. It’s enough just knowing you're right there with him.

bf!Yuji is not the kind of person to get insecure. He's more nervous in the begging of your relationship, but once you tell him you love him the first time that flies out the window. You love him and he loves you and to him that’s enough to know things will always work out.

bf!Yuji gets incredibly anxious anytime he has to buy you a gift. Birthdays and holidays are a nightmare for him. He never knows what to get you and will spend hours pacing around countless stores to find the perfect gift. He tries to remind himself that it’s the thought that counts and that you’re always happy with what he gets you, but it never settles his nerves. He’ll second guess himself until the moment he hands the gift over. Watching your lips curl up into a big smile as you open it up is what finally makes him relax.

bf!Yuji is never possessive and almost never jealous. The only thing that really makes him jealous is when you go to the movies without him. It doesn’t matter who you’re going with either, he's jealous. He loves the movies and he loves you so of course he loves going to the movies with you. He’ll never admit he's jealous, but he’ll definitely pout and tell you how much how much he wanted to see the film. Of course you can see right through him and will always offer to go see it again with him. That always brings him back to his usual chipper self. 

bf!Yuji turns into the biggest baby when he gets sick. The common cold is a death sentence as far as he is concerned. The only possible cure is you feeding him soup and rubbing his back. He will beg for snuggles and kisses but dramatically tell you not to come near him so you can’t catch whatever deadly virus he has when you actually try. As soon as he’s better though he’s expecting you to help him make up for lost time by letting him smother you to his heart's content. 

bf!Yuji will do literally anything for you. He’d figure out how to rearrange the planets if that was what you wanted, and he'd do it with a smile. If you need help with anything at all he wants to be your first call. You want to redecorate your room? Call Yuji. You want a late night snack? Call Yuji. You want to rob a bank? Call Yuji. He's the definition of ride or die and he never lets you forget how treasured you are.

[chevroletdean]

Tennessee Whiskey & Strawberry Wine

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff TO NOTE/WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, swearing, Dean is really pathetic in this one, past established relationship, mentions of arguments/breakups, (mutual) pining, suggestive innuendos but nothing explicit, second chances? WORD COUNT: 3.1k SUMMARY: It's been months since you broke up with Dean and he's never been able to fully move on. It's when you run into him again that you realize... maybe, just maybe, neither have you. A/N: This is for @rubyvhs' 500 celebration! I got the song 'Tennessee Whiskey' by Austin Giorgio and if that song doesn't scream Dean Winchester, then I don't know. It was a no-brainer to me. Congratulations again, Laila, on 500 well deserved followers!! CREDIT/LINKS: Lace divider, reblog divider, header images edited by me, Dean gif

“I know I ordered a strong whiskey, but I didn’t expect you to make me this weak.”

He remembers you giggling at that cheesy line, the sound still clear as a bell and as angelic as one too. Even today, months after watching you walk away, he can picture the way you rolled your eyes and smiled at him. Bright and joyful.

A stark contrast to the otherwise dull and cruel reality bestowed upon you and him.

Not that you never got along. Quite the opposite, actually.

You and Dean had clicked immediately after meeting for the first time, especially after learning how much you had in common. Then, after working on several cases together, one thing lead to another and at some point you two had become inseparable.

The infamous duo. The ‘it couple’ among hunters. With just as much of a tragic ending as any actual celebrity’s scandalous love story too, sadly.

For your similarities were two sides of the same coin — a common ground for the two of you to understand and to relate to each other, yes. But also a bottomless pit of stubbornness and reason for anger.

So much anger. Endless arguing, with neither of you letting up and both of you doubling down.

Dean always loved your temper, your passion — he still does. But when two hotheads collide, an explosion is bound to happen. You were doomed from the start.

As capable as both of you were when it came to hunting, fighting the ugly monsters between yourselves was a losing battle.

You guys only knew how to exorcise the demons outside your relationship. The two of you could lift any curse except your constant fighting. And now, Dean is left chasing those memories of you like he would a ghost. Not to put it to rest, but to let it haunt his broken heart.

Despite Dean’s apprehension, Sam has insisted on taking a case in Nashville. Everything here reminds Dean of you, not least the very same bar where he first met you.

Love at first sight is something so cliché and Dean Winchester doesn’t do romance. Or rather, he didn’t. Not before getting to know you. In many ways, that fateful evening had changed his life. Had changed him.

Part of him wonders if it’s ever possible again, preferably with you. But he knows such thinking is wishful. Or maybe anxiety inducing. Probably a little bit of both.

Although he’s well aware that (a) the chances of actually running into you here are pretty low, and (b) he doesn’t even know if he could actually take seeing you again, Dean finds himself at the bar’s counter, where he orders an overpriced shot of Tennessee Whiskey and listens to the bartender’s overenthusiastic lecture of said local specialty.

She’s a pretty girl, working her charms on any potentially generous patron. Without a doubt she’s able to sweet-talk multiple customers into a huge tip. And fuck it, even Dean indulges and orders a second shot, followed by a third.

Though he swears, sip by sip, the whiskey began to taste like you.

His time here turns into a vicious cycle of nostalgia, wanting to forget, and being forced to remember all over again.

The liquid burns in his throat and it blurs his vision. For a second he thinks he could pretend the girl serving him his fourth drink was you. In his mind her hair changes its color to yours, but when he realizes he’s not able to get your voice right, he’s giving up.

What a horrible idea to come to this bar of all places to forget about you. What a laughable idea to hope he might see you again. Pathetic, even. Both of it. All of it. All of him.

No matter how cute — and under different circumstances, he might’ve hit on her in more serious fashion — she’s not you. She never could be, nobody can. And maybe she doesn’t have to be.

“You know, sweetheart,” he trails off, committed to erasing you from his memory tonight.

The woman giggles and it sounds so wrong in his ears. Her cheeks warm up but the pink shade doesn’t look right to him.

“I know I ordered a strong whiskey,” Dean grins, albeit the curl of his lips is lopsided and the words feel wrong in his mouth. “But I didn’t expect—”

It’s all too different from when he’d say these words to you. Not to mention how unfair it feels towards the girl, to you, even to himself to recycle that cheap tactic.

He doesn’t get to finish his act anyway. Not when the scent of sweet vanilla and strawberries wafts through the air and swallows his attention whole. He interrupts himself midsentence, heart threatening to leap into his throat and blocking any and every further word.

He’d recognize the perfume anywhere. Or the electricity that crackles dangerously within the small space between his arm and that of the new patron. His green eyes barely dare to glance to the source of the dizzying aura.

At last, they settle on the stool next to his. Where you’re making yourself comfortable, nonchalantly combing your fingers through your hair — it’s gotten longer since he’s last seen you — and smiling at the waitress.

“What he was trying to say,” you speak and your voice makes his heart burst on the spot, “is to add another one to his tab. Along with one glass of wine, please. Red.”

Dean must’ve been staring and gaping at you like an idiot, mouth still open in shock and eyes just as wide, because you give him a brief one-over and giggle softly. That godforsaken giggle that makes every fiber of him buzz with warmth.

“Hey, Dean,” you smile and even though it’s a little tense, awkward even, you pull it off with such ease. “I gotta say, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

How you can just start up a conversation with him baffles him. Then again, you always had the ability to make things seem so easy.

He’s still busy trying to process that you’re here, right next to him. Too busy to realize he’s looking like a complete idiot — already tipsy, caught red handed, and unable to come up with a proper response.

“What brings you to Nashville, Dean?”

Where he can’t get out a single word, you keep talking to him as if nothing happened. As if you didn’t walk out that door all those months ago. You avert your gaze from him and glance over to the waitress that’s tending to your order.

If he didn’t know it any better, he’d say there’s a spark of jealousy dimming the familiar spark in your eyes.

You lower your voice. Hell, you lean closer to him and your elbow touches his and since he can’t freeze anymore than already, he thinks he might turn into stone and marble instead. Your smirk is subtle but mischievious while you whisper to him: “Looking for love?”

Dean’s pretty sure that he’s already found it.

“Sammy and I are workin’ on a case nearby,” he finally manages to explain, after clearing his throat. He picks up his empty glass, deft fingers toying with its rim.

You purse your lips, then you press them together into a thin line, before releasing the plump of it with the faintest pop. You’re trying to kill him, you have to be.

“Didn’t know you were around here still,” he mumbles and prays you don’t notice the tremble in his voice — or, if you do, that you’ll attribute it to the abundance of whiskeys he’s had.

“I never left,” you reply swiftly.

He can’t help but cringe. Because you have. You have left it all behind.

The bartender returns with another shot of whiskey and a glass of wine. She blinks between you and Dean for a second, before reluctantly turning her back on you two. Dean knows his chances with her are blown, but that’s not what he’s bitter about.

He’s bitter about you. About you waltzing in and stomping on his ripped out heart.

“Sorry,” you sigh with a pout, “I ruined your game.”

Without a word, Dean sets his empty glass down onto the counter.

“It’s just… well, I saw you sitting here and thought I should say hi,” you continue.

He picks up the new glass, still not responding.

“It’s been a while, I thought we could catch up and—”

Dean finally looks up, straight towards you with an expression that’s difficult to read, but apparently enough to shut you up. Apparently he’s not happy seeing you. Or maybe he is, he honestly doesn’t know himself.

“What kind of reunion were you hoping for, sugar?”

Your eyes widen at his question, even more so at the use of that petname. An endearment you haven’t heard him say to you in so long. It used to be such a casualty, something you’ve always taken for granted, that you’re shocked you forgot its effect.

“I don’t know,” you admit meekly. “I honestly didn’t think we’d ever get one, you know?”

Dean thinks over your answer for a moment. Realistically speaking, he didn’t think so either. However, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t played out the possibility in his mind more times than he can count.

All that preparation for such an unlikely scenario got him nowhere in the end. He always thought he’d know exactly what to tell you when he’d see you again. But all those speeches and words feel useless now.

He raises his glass in your direction.

“Here’s to surprises, then,” Dean shrugs, the upwards twitch in the corner of his mouth belied by the strain of his jaw.

If you notice his tension, you do not comment on it. Instead, you reciprocate his gesture, your glass clinking gently against his.

Of course you notice. Of course he knows you do.

Just like he knows how aware you are of his eyes mimicking your wine.

The sweet liquid sticks to your lips just like his gaze does. As he watches the red stain your skin and tongue, he wishes he could do the same — leave traces of himself on you so he'll be with you forever, feel the warmth and the plush of you against him one more time.

What Dean doesn’t know is why you have to torture him like this.

It’s no longer his place to desire any of this, any of you. But how can he not crave your sweet taste?

Yet he’s forced to settle for the smooth burn of his drink, which might be honey in color, but can’t compare to the sweetness of your essence.

Fucking hell, he needs to snap out of it.

“You really tried using that line on her, huh?” Your voice is barely audible, but with the world zeroed in on just you two, he cannot possibly miss your quiet utterance.

For a moment he thinks the alcohol is getting to him at last, dulling his senses once and for all — because there’s no way you’re actually bothered by this, is there? Yet you sit there, shoulders slightly slumped, eyes cast down as you stare into the crimson in front of you.

“What?”

You blink up at him, then at your glass again. “The whole strong whiskey thing. You know— nevermind, it’s whatever. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

While Dean’s definitely tipsy enough for the world around him to move a beat slower than usual, he picks up on your intention to leave faster than you can turn around. You hop off your chair and mumble a half-assed “Good night, Dean” and the déjà-vu hits him like a truck.

Another unsatisfying farewell.

Another missed chance.

He can’t bear to watch you leave again.

Instinctively, Dean’s hand reaches for yours. His last self-restraint stops him from grabbing you roughly. Instead, his fingers are ghosting around your wrist, not even touching, just lingering.

“Hold up,” he mutters lamely, to at least say something. Anything. “At least finish your wine, hm? You put it on my tab, after all.”

You do not hide the surprise in your eyes, clearly shocked that he’d want your company after everything you’ve made him go through. You look at him as though you’re asking if he’s sure about this.

“Dean, I—”

“Please.”

You bite your lower lip and reluctantly slip back into your original position. You hold onto the stem of your glass again, though you do not take a sip. It’s almost as if you’re afraid this will all end too soon, if you finish your drink.

“Guess it was sorta like a spell,” Dean hums.

His demeanor is more relaxed right away. The second he’s sure you’ll stay for a bit longer, the crease between his brows disappears and his voice is more steady. As steady as it can be with the liquor adding a natural rasp to his throat.

“A spell?” You echo, wide doe eyes looking at him with wonder.

“Technically, I never said it without you around,” he quips, “If I knew that’s how to summon you, I would’ve tried it much sooner.”

You pause, then you snort. He’s unbelievable, always turning his words into a playful flirtation, always trying to smooth-talk you into a giggle. Successfully so.

Dean drinks in the sound and sight of your joy, comitting it to his memory. Just in case he won’t get the luxury of repeating it.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” you chuckle.

“Maybe not,” he smiles weakly.

Definitely not.

In fact, he’s so caught up in your guys’ past that you could probably ridicule him for it. It’s pathetic, honestly, how he hasn’t been able to move on. Searching for a glimpse of what used to be in the bottom of a bottle, in same old places such as this one, only to distract himself and pretend anything can come close.

Dean’s quick to order another round of drinks for both of you.

Not long after, another round follows.

The drinks keep flowing. As does the conversation, surprisingly. It’s comforting, being able to talk to you after all this time. You don’t reminisce old days, you treat him like he’s not a wreck.

The alcohol loosens your tongues, though he’s ahead of you by far.

In the end, you shake your head towards the bartender and mumble something about how Dean’s had enough. His brows furrow together in protest, but he can’t bring himself to complain. Not when your hands, delicate against his shoulder, urge him to stand up.

Dean only staggers slightly and fishes for his wallet, before he pays for the drinks, but he does subconsciously lean against your supporting touch. The leather of his jacket crinkles under your fingertips as you struggle to hold him upright.

“Alright, cowboy,” you sigh and loop your arm around his back instead. His ends up around your shoulder and he can’t help but notice how natural the proximity feels. Like your bodies were molded for each other.

“I can walk b’myself, sweetheart,” he huffs, drawing another of those addictive chuckles from you.

“You’re gonna tell me you’ll drive like this, too?” Your voice isn’t condescending, but he doesn’t miss the half-scolding, half-teasing edge within. “Where’re Sam and you staying at?”

His eyes narrow and you can see the wheels turning behind his glassy eyes.

He doesn’t remember the name of the motel, does he?

You contemplate on whether or not you should call his brother, but something’s telling you Dean won’t be able to stay awake until Sam’s able to pick him up. He’s already babbling unintelligble nonsense, his weight heavier and heavier on you as his form slumps.

“Okay, big boy, let’s just find you a place to crash,” you suggest, but Dean’s only response is a hum that you can neither identify as approving nor protesting.

You gently pat his back and attempt to nudge him into a more upwards stance. He remains clinging to you like velcro, but removes some of that crushing weight from your shoulder.

“Y’know,” he slurs, “I was hopin’ t’see y’again, but I was also so fuckin’ scared.”

Your cheeks warm at his drunk confession, but you don’t interrupt him. His steps are uncoordinated, but with your guidance, the two of you arrive at your place.

“Been missin’ you,” he mumbles and sighs, “’nd you’re still the only one makin’ me weak.”

“Pretty sure it’s actually the strong whiskey this time,” you laugh in response.

You lead him inside your apartment, where he immediately falls onto the couch. You would’ve offered him the guest room, but Dean’s already sinking into the cushions, eyes closed.

“Honey, nothin’, not even Tennessee Whiskey, can give me whiplash like you can,” Dean insists drowsily.

Words he’ll without a doubt regret, if he can remember them tomorrow.

Your heart flips thanks to his words, but you can’t help feeling like you don’t deserve them. Not after you’ve broken up with him in such cruel fashion, your last heated argument having caused you to walk away back then.

A decision you’ll always regret, one you can never forget — no matter the amount of whiskey or strawberry wine.

With a small sigh, you prepare a glass of water for him in the kitchen.

By the time you’re placing it, along with some painkillers, on the coffee table, Dean’s already fast asleep. At least that’s what the soft, but deep exhales, which border on snoring, make you believe. However, your assumption is proven wrong when you drape a blanket over him, only to find yourself pulled down by strong arms.

Dean’s hands glue themselves to the small of your back, holding you tightly against him.

In his half-asleep state, he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you — sweeter than Strawberry Wine. His lips brush against your collarbone, tracing the warmth of your skin — smoother than Tennessee Whiskey.

Dean Winchester Taglist:

@ladysparkles78 @ariasong11 @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

@zepskies @calibootsgirl @hot-and-confused @spookyfunhottub @berryblues46

@midnight--raine @emmy21842 @whichwitchwanda @foxyjwls007 @emma1998sblog

@lyarr24 @charliesangel67 @spn-reader @whump-loverz @cassieriddle713

@ilovedeanwinchester4 @mccartneyqp

Put a green heart 💚 in the comments to be added to the Dean x Reader taglist. Please note: Ageless blogs/minors will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts!

[revelboo]

oguh dude youve got me on a starscream kick, i love how you write him so much. not a request (cuz im not sure if you take them) so much as it is a brain dump but godddddd he seems like he'd be such a sucker (affectionate) for a tender touch. running your hand along the back of his, over his knuckles. affectionately headbutting his lower jaw/just in general bc i think he'd think cuteness aggression is adorable, once he figures out what it is and that you arent actually trying to do any real damage so much as its just... processing. in a very cute, very strangely human sort of way. akin to those harmlessly angry kitten videos, maybe- like the one thats wiggling its paws through the bars of an open crate. oguh but on the more romantic side of things?? kissing his knuckles. or his finger tips, either or, and maintaining eye contact while you do. im not sure how to feel about him but youve got me feelign some kinda way (affectionate) about him, thats for sure

Yes! I love the idea of big, powerful Cybertronians being undone by a little softness or affection because they’re just so unused to it and don’t know how to react.

Everything is Alright Pt 21

Starscream x Reader

• Venting in bemused affection, he flexes his servos, tapping the end of one against his berth. You scowl up at him. Such a dramatic little thing. He’d only set you down to retrieve a clean drying cloth and you’d run straight for that old polishing cloth he gave you. Now you’re backed into a corner, shivering and so thoroughly wrapped in the cloth only your face is visible. All because he’d destroyed your soiled coverings. Hadn’t he told you he’d replace them?

• He means well. He does. You have to keep repeating that in your head as you smother the urge to just scream as he crooks a finger at you, expecting you to come to him like an obedient, little pet. And despite yourself you want to, you’re wet and cold. Curling up against your giant alien space heater sounds wonderful. Except you’re naked under the blanket and as stupid as it is, you’re embarrassed about that fact. He probably couldn’t care less, but you do. “I need clothes.”

• Optics narrowing, he presses his palm to the berth and leans forward. It’d be easy enough to just grab you. Wings flicking, he can’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this. Hadn’t you told him cold was bad for humans? “Come here,” he growls, letting some of his annoyance at your little rebellion color the words. And there it is. Face reddening, you sullenly walk toward him and he’s able to carefully curl his servos around you, lifting you up so he can sit with you. As soon as he tries to tug that cleaning cloth away, you frantically swat at his servos again and he smiled despite himself, because really?

• Really?! Grip going white knuckled on your pitiful cover with one hand, you slap at his servos. Not that you can really stop him, but it’s the principle of the thing. And the not being naked factor, because you’ve reached your humiliation limit for the day. “I’m fine,” you hiss through your teeth, shoving at his hand. Venting so hard, you feel the blast of warm air, he actually growls at you. And then the world drops out from under you.

• “For Primus’s sake.” A scream lodges in your throat as you suddenly fall without actually falling. An arm hooks around you, fingers gripping your chin to turn your head. “You’d think I’m trying to skin you, the way you act,” snarls a gruff voice right in your ear and your stunned brain just can’t. Because your giant, alien robot isn’t so giant and you really just can’t deal with it. Or the fact that you’re sitting across his legs as he uses the end of your blanket to rub your hair dry a bit too roughly. You wonder if this is what having a heart attack feels like, because you can’t breathe and your heart is rabbiting against your ribs. Trying to get your brain to work, you crane your neck to stare at his face as he scowls down at you. He’s still much bigger than you, just not giant and you can’t manage anything besides staring dumbly.

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[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ PIECE OF ART. ✧ KENJI S.

✰ — you and kenji being at the museum for plot reasons, kenji being sweet, pure fluff, might be ooc kenji, not much proof-read.

tagging : @xxladyballadxx @jinwoosungs @madeimoisellesoleil 💕

— ✩ m. list.

. dividers by @/strangergraphics 📜 !!

A LIGHT grin is present upon your features, further observing the scattered paper arts close by— passing it in an unhurried pace. Dressed ever so casually, to say the least, yet perfectly fitting to the current location you were in. A sight to behold that still manages to go unnoticed within the sea of people.

It is just the beginning of the eventide, and the museum still continues to open and welcome new visitors as always. Your sole figure remains there, blending in with the several other people with dexterity.

The romantic time of the day, some may say. The mere location itself has given it away fully.

Due to the amount of passing minutes that you've been inside, you started to feel quite chilly all over— causing yourself to mentally curse for not bringing a coat along with you, blaming yourself for your small mistake.

It doesn't take long for you to endure with a slight shiver, when a certain someone suddenly covers your form up with a rather sizeable coat; warming you up almost instantly without fail.

Admittedly, you got startled from the gesture and the sudden appearance, before deciding to turn around to face the said person.

And of course, it didn't take long for you to be able to fully register upon the familiar sight altogether— eyes instantly widening with a beaming smile.

"Ken, you actually came!" Without wasting any second of hesitation, you pulled him into an embrace— burying your face onto his chest with pure joy.

"Mmhm," Kenji hums, adding more to his words further with an equally happy expression, along with a mellow tone. "Of course I do."

He gradually encircles his arms around you, returning the embrace with equal fervor. Lowering his head ever so slightly, he silently allows you to burrow your face further against his chest for the time being— relishing within one another's mere presence.

Everything about him screams security, allowing yourself to drown into him without any worries; starting to feel more addicted as if he's some sort of a drug that made you hold onto life itself.

He's a famous person that is loved by many, and you're almost.. Nothing, like him. It's what keeps you questioning sometimes, and the way you're able to establish a rather special connection with him.

The difference between you two is like day and night itself; one that is vast and perceptible. Yet if only you knew— that Kenji never once is bothered by any of those existing statuses, not even the slightest. He appreciates you for being who you truly are.

"I figured that you'd be quite busy. I mean, I understand if you're unable to stop by earlier, y'know."

"Hey, don't worry about it." Just like that— he's able to dispel the existing anxiousness within you effortlessly so, still keeping his hold around you with just the right amount of force; not too assertive, and it just felt right.

"I'll always make time for you, my love."

His simple response made you beam in delight; noting the truth of his words alone.

No one is around the area that you both are in, does it-? It's as if nothing much mattered at this present moment, shielding yourselves with the makeshift reality that you both have unconsciously created— lost within your own little world without a care.

The stillness around the both of you, except for the occasional breathing sounds, makes the moment special somehow. You could clearly feel the heat radiating off from him and his coat alone; his warm breath brushes past your ear.

"Feeling any better now?"

"Yeah," you nodded with a grateful smile of your own. "Thank you, Ken."

Has he ever told you on how much he loves it whenever you call him Ken? It just hits different whenever you call him like that. He would lose his damn mind if he wants to.

"I appreciate you a whole lot," you added. "You don't usually go to places like this, that is."

"I just can't help myself but to come and see you.." A velvety chuckle slips past through his lips— planting a small kiss upon your forehead before gently pushing you away for a bit, just so that he could gaze at you.

"Honestly, I just— yeah, I missed you, a lot. I know I've been busy lately, but still.."

Kenji is speaking nothing short of pure honesty lacing his words. He misses the feeling of your frame against his own; letting his thumb tracing the contours of your face with such delicacy— every detail of your features none left untouched.

"What if I told you that I feel the same way too?" A cliche answer, but it works every single time.

Your gaze now darted towards the large painting ahead, which ostensively have shown a pair of lovers— holding onto one another as the life of the other gradually withers away.

He simply chuckled over your statement, immediately taking notice of the shift of your gaze; following your line of sight after.

"The painting looks a bit depressing, to say the least," he remarks, paying close attention about what the artist is trying to convey through the art.

"Yeah." You approached closer to the aforementioned painting, and the coat— his coat, still settled snuggly around your figure, trying your best to discern the details as well.

"I wonder what goes through the artists' mind while making this."

Kenji now stood beside you; the height difference very much noticeable. His eyes seemed to be observing it in every angle possible as well, placing his chin atop of your head from behind— no longer standing beside you.

"I'm curious about it too."

"Maybe it was meant to portray, you know— some tragedy?"

"Well, that definitely worked." He agreed along with your words, accompanied with a quick nod.

When he's sure that you're not looking at anywhere else but the painting alone, Kenji took the opportunity to glance down at you, secretly— or not-so-secretly, admiring the way his coat hangs around you almost loosely; yet fittingly so. You looked so beautiful to him like this, and he didn't dare to let his mind wander too far.

At this point, you didn't have to bring him along to the museum to see the arts, when you are the whole art itself.

A precious piece of art that he would love to keep with him for as long as he's breathing— if you would let him.

Every single part of you screams divine perfection to him. The way your eyes would light up whenever you see anything that interests you, or the way you would bite your lip in pure concentration unknowingly.

The way you speak, and the way you walk— God, don't get him started on the way he would always, successfully so, getting any sort of reaction out of you. The list is endless, and it felt like a personal reward, one that he's not-so-willingly share with anyone else.

No one can truly blame him for doing so, honestly. Kenji couldn't help it— he cherishes you so much that it almost hurts so good. Not out of obsession, but damn, that man loves you a little too much.

Nevertheless, nothing is truly too much for him to love you just the way you are.

Yet rightfully so, you never minded even the slightest. Kenji could never get enough of you; his love for you is always, and somehow, endless.

You smiled lovingly underneath his soft gaze, rubbing his own arm that's currently encircling around you so tenderly. You know that stare, but you just didn't want to point it out and simply wanted to relish within that feeling.

The people might see him as the arrogant, boastful person in the public eye— a mere facade that he puts up every so often when it deems necessary. But he acts so differently whenever he's around you, daring himself to let his walls down and be completely vulnerable with you.

With you, he has nothing to hide, shamelessly showing and proving his devotion to you alone; showing you a side that only you get the privilege of seeing it.

Kenji Sato will never cease to treasure you.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[pomefioredove]

Hiii!! I was wondering if you could “I can’t stop thinking about you” with Jade? If ur prompt things are still open of course! If not that’s totally okay too!!

o7 anon

summary: "I can’t stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: jade additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread and maybe a little ooc a part of this event

"And don't forget to lock the doors when you leave,"

Azul sighs, hovering in the doorway of the Mostro Lounge with his hands on his hips.

"Luckily, nothing was stolen last time I let Floyd take the closing shift, but luck is fickle,"

He pauses, turning to you. "I'm sure you, at least, will be able to handle something so simple."

You salute the tired-looking merman before the soft swoosh of the kitchen door interrupts the conversation.

"My, you have such little faith in me, Azul. I'm wounded," a smoother, much less tense, presence follows it.

You'd always wondered how Jade is able to sound imposing without ever actually raising his voice.

Azul huffs. "I clearly was not addressing you. Good evening to the both of you... Don't stay up too late,"

And with that, he's gone.

As soon as the door is closed and Azul's inky silhouette has vanished, you turn to look at the gentleman behind you.

"I didn't even know you were here,"

"I'm not supposed to be," Jade smiles, offering little explanation.

By now, you're sure he does that on purpose.

You don't feel like being baited into a conversation, but when your only other option is silence with Jade...

"So?"

"I was taking stock," he says. "Both metaphorically and literally. We're short on limes."

His strangeness radiates off of him like a mist. You narrow your eyes at him; he's hiding something, you're sure. But what are you supposed to do- interrogate him?

"I'll leave a note," you mutter, turning your attention back to sweeping.

This is your very first closing shift at the lounge; no customers, no Azul, no sounds except for your own breathing.

And Jade's.

He smiles again. "Shall I help? You'll be done faster with another set of hands,"

He could just leave. He's not even on the clock... if this is him looping you into some ploy to get overtime, you swear...

"If you would like,"

"Excellent,"

Jade disappears into the kitchen, taking that strange air of tension with him, and returns with a rag and cleaning solution.

He's completely silent, perusing the lounge as if it were an art museum, admiring the specks and stains on each table before wiping them down.

"You seem nervous," he says merrily, not even looking at you. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No," a half-truth. "I'm just tired." a lie.

"I've read that many human children develop a fear of the dark. What's more, is that it's not considered irrational. How fascinating,"

You focus on the bristles of the broom in front of you. The Mostro Lounge does get rather dark at night... all of Octavinelle does.

"It's not irrational," you mutter.

"Perhaps for you. But in the sea, a child being afraid of the dark would be as silly to us as a child being afraid of sunlight would be to you,"

You pause to look out one of the windows in the lounge, the thick pane of glass separating you from the inky depths. It's almost pitch black at this hour.

Ugh. You're letting him get in your head.

You hum. "Is that why you're here, then? Protecting me from the dark?"

Jade smiles, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. "No. I was only making conversation. You seemed uncomfortable with my presence,"

"I just was expecting to be alone,"

"So was I,"

You pause, turning to him with a questioning glance.

As vague an answer as ever, you think, though there's a certain gleam in his eye that's daring you to find out for yourself.

He meets your gaze. "You interest me,"

Jade says it plainly, his tone soft, as if he thinks he might scare you away with any sudden movements.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he hums. "And I hope you understand my meaning... I do not seek to make you uncomfortable."

You set the broom against the wall. "You're not,"

He mimics you, setting the rag and bottle aside. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn you caught a look of relief on him.

"Good. I have no malicious intentions... This time,"

You take that as a joke. It's not very funny.

Jade chuckles. "Ah, don't roll your eyes at me. I'm only lightening the mood... I would like to get to know you better, after all," he pauses. "As a confidante."

There's something oddly genuine about this.

He's as calm as ever, but you can tell there's a current of vulnerability hiding beneath the surface.

You can't help a smile at the thought.

"Not an informant, then?"

He smiles back. "Not with you, no,"

[oltammefru]

Civilight Eterna is an incredibly incredibly interesting character, and has so so much going on so I thought I'd share my read on her. First off, Civilight Eterna isn't Theresa. Like, at all. In her dialogue, she repeatedly says she's not Theresa, talks about Theresa as a person distinct from her, and seems uncomfortable when the Doctor treats her as if she is Theresa.

The way I see it, she is actually far more like Kal'tsit and Amiya than she is Theresa. Once you accept that, I think Civilight Eterna becomes an incredibly, incredibly interesting character who provides a large amount of great characterization to Theresa.

The real Theresa is dead and gone and erased forever now, but ironically, if anything, after ep14, the narrative is far more haunted by Theresa than it ever was. For the most part, no one is particularly happy with CE being on the landship as she is: for Kal'tsit, who had finally come to terms with her grief and loss, all CE really does is dredge up all the pain and sorrow and hatred she felt about Theresa's death.

For the Doctor, she is a source of self-doubt and guilt over their past sins.

There's also an interesting contrast between her and the Doctor, as CE spells out, with one of them being an existence entirely of memory, and the other having none at all.

Amiya is mostly ok about her, but even for her, CE a reminder of who and what she has lost. She sees CE and understands and sees her not as Theresa, but as something else, but because of her resemblance to Theresa, she can't help but be reminded that Theresa is gone, and she won't be able to see anything she's done or gone through anymore.

Theresa, herself, is gone for good now, but the shadow of her last deed hangs over them all. CE as a character takes the enormous background presence Theresa has in the narrative and she makes it a lot more personal than it already is. As a character, CE takes the ghost of Theresa that's been haunting the narrative in the background and drags it kicking and screaming into the forefront, forcing the main trio to confront it.

The person most haunted by Theresa is Civilight Eterna herself. She was made with the purpose being a replica or substitute of Theresa, with the memories of Theresa, but she's really not her, and she's in fact quite bothered by such a concept. The impression I get from her files is that her arc as a character (provided they give her continued story content and don't just throw her by the wayside) is mostly about her struggles to find an identity for herself beyond the one she was assigned and was made to be (which very much parallels much of Amiya's struggles throughout the her entire character arc!)

In most of the story, Theresa is framed as this, almost mythical, larger-than-life figure, who you hear of often and her legacy greatly influences everything that unfolds, without actually appearing except in brief glimpses and flashbacks (until the story starts peeling back the curtain on her with Babel.) For someone as existent and present as CE is, there is no way that she could actually live up to the legendary figure that Theresa was, nor does she want to. The mythos surrounding Theresa is so great that just by virtue of being made to be like Theresa, this serves to erase any identity or personhood of her own she might have (once again, parallels with Amiya.)

(This is also somewhat painfully ironic on a meta-level. If you engage with CE's content at all, it spells out the fact that she is very much not Theresa, but just because she was made to resemble her, even the playerbase of the game thinks of and sees her as Theresa!).

The thing that's juiciest about this to me is that the relationship she has with Kal'tsit. Kal'tsit is maybe the one person who can truly empathize with CE and her mode of existence: both were made and instilled with some driving, defining purpose, but wish to carve out an identity of their own; both occupy some messy, intermediate state between humanity and inhumanity; and both struggle with the risk of being subsumed by some ideal or identity far beyond what they could possibly be. But instead, Kal'tsit can't bear to see the sight of CE, she gives her the cold shoulder, and is unwilling to meet her eyes. Even if Kal'tsit does understand that CE isn't really Theresa, she can't help but see her and think of Theresa, and for CE, this is incredibly, incredibly alienating, that the one person who should be able to truly understand her and her struggles to find an identity for herself, sees her more as the person she was made in the image of and could never really be, instead of her own person.

In light of the fact that CE's files state Kal'tsit has been avoiding CE is so fucked actually, especially when you think about this in the context of Lone Trail. Lone Trail takes place over an (in-setting) year after CE shows up, and despite this, she is never been mentioned or referenced at all, even obliquely. Has Kal'tsit just been coping about it for an entire year straight*? Like, here's about how I imagine this goes: The Doctor mentions CE to Kal'tsit exactly once and immediately gets the hint to not do so. They don't get a lecture about this. They don't even get a Kal'tsit Stinkface Talksprite. She just looks, however minutely, a slight bit more tired and sad. And so that's the last time they ever bring it up. And the thing is, CE has the same care and love that Theresa had, and she wants so so desperately for the people Theresa (and by extension her) cares about to be happy. And so if the only thing she can do for Kal'tsit is to remain completely out of Kal'tsit's sight, existence unacknowledged, no matter how much she might want to reach out, no matter how soulcrushing and painful it might be to do so, she would do this and bear all the pain, out of the love she has for Kal'tsit.

The main way we see Theresa characterized before Babel and Ep14 is through the things and people she's left behind: the people who lived because she died, a dream, a photo of her snuck when she wasn't looking (she was looking), a flower garden, a letter, a promise, a girl made to bear the weight of the world and an apology to her. CE is the last thing she leaves behind, her last act, her last sin before she exits the story for good. In particular, I think CE as a character is some really good final characterization for Theresa, one that serves to highlight her character flaws.

As a person, Theresa is sort of messy. I mean this specifically in the sense she is a person who does great and grand things, knowing that there will be consequences (both foreseen and unforeseen), and does them anyway, often leaving a mess in the process for others to pick up. In Warfarin's 2nd operator record: her attitude towards Theresa highlights this well, to her, no matter how noble her ideals and how good her intentions might be, the fact of the matter is that she is starting a civil war who which will get people killed. In this regard, I think her creation of CE fits her character perfectly. What she does in episode 14: finally being able to free the Sarkaz from the shackles of Originium, and making CE as a final act of care to Amiya, fulfilling her promise to Amiya to always be with her, but making a huge mess in the process, serves as a perfect capstone to Theresa as a character. Even though she is now gone, the effects of her last choice and legacy still hang over those who knew her.

*Of course it could also be that they wrote LT at a time where there were no plans to have CE be a character at all, but especially when it comes to things like this, HG does generally write things years ahead of time. The ending of Lone Trail does feel very much like it was written with Babel already in mind, and Vigilo was also clearly written with Babel in mind (see: Memoria specifically) despite being released several years before Babel.

[scarletttries]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions With a Shy GN!Reader...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: " Can I request for Baldur's Gate 3 companions with shy gender neutral s/o please?"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and has been reblogging my Baldur's Gate posts! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more headcanons like this :)

Astarion:

- At first Astarion would find it hard to reconcile your shyness with his understanding of the way people behave. He would be suspicious of you initially, wondering why you insist on playing your cards so close to your chest. It wouldn't be until you finally warmed up to him and started to talk a bit more that he realised that this quiet tone to you is actually very endearing to him.

- When you two get together he would feel very proud to be the person you speak to the most. Astarion can be a little insecure sometimes so knowing that you choose to talk to him despite being selective with who you speak to would mean a lot to him. It would help him to trust you more too, knowing the the deep bond between you is almost a secret that you would never dare whisper to anyone else.

- Astarion loves being able to communicate with you with just a sly glance or a single whispered word, the two of you often having entire conversations without saying a word to those around you. When you need to talk your way into somewhere Astarion's always happy to do the talking, but he can't help but be impressed with the way you can navigate through a room quiet and unnoticed.

- As a partner Astarion needs more reassurance than he ever likes to show, so knowing that you'll go against your shy instincts to whisper a flirty thought or a sentimental memory to him when he starts to look worn out always boosts his spirits. He didn't know how much he needed someone just like you in his life until you became a core part of it.

Wyll:

- Wyll never shies away from the public or a spotlight, announcing himself as he enters almost any room, so when he meets someone who prefers to listen to those around them instead of interrupting, he'd become very interested in what you have to say. He'd make the effort to get to know you even if it didn't happen as naturally as sometimes other bonds have come to him, but as he worked to gain your trust and attention he'd never regret a moment of time spent getting you to warm up to him.

- When the two of you are together Wyll will never miss an opportunity to sing your praises, no matter how bashful it makes you! He needs you to know how amazing and appreciated you are, as he can never tell if you fully recognise your own brilliance.

- Wyll falls in love with the way you think before you speak, listening to every part of his story and really considering everything he tells you, never jumping to an assumption as so many people in his life have. He finds your accepting nature makes him a better man, and in return he only grows a deeper fondness for the way you carry yourself.

- As a partner Wyll always needs someone to be there for him, listening and reassuring, and he really finds that partner in you. He's never felt more loved and respected as he does when you give him the time and space to work through his feelings and history, the quiet stillness you bring to his life letting him find a peace he's never known before.

Gale:

- Gale has spent enough time studying magic at scholarly institutes to have met more than a few shy souls in his past, so when he notices you playing the shrinking violet he knows exactly how to give you all the time and space you need to finally share a bit of yourself with him.

- He knows that the most important things to hear usually come from those who don't speak unless they have something to say, and there's no exception to that in you. He really gives weight to everything you share with him, every opinion you pose, and every compliment you reward him with through flushed cheeks and nervous laughter. It only makes it that much sweeter that you don't dish out such comments absentmindedly.

- Gale also enjoys using a bit of your shyness against you, gaining a certain amount of satisfaction from being overtly flirty in public once the two of you are well into dating. He can't help but smile at the way you shy away from his loud declarations of love and the flirty comments whispered far too loudly across a tavern. His heart practically bursts when you try to hide your face in his hands when he's being far too vocal about how beautiful he finds you in front of the rest of your companions, and not a day goes by that he doesn't remind you of that fact.

- Thankfully he usually waits until you are alone to let his adoration pour out in his gentle words and touches, enjoying that while he can be a brash as he wants in public, he can feel your true appreciation in the quiet you spend alone. His life has held more than one dramatic chapter, so having someone who loves him so sweetly and mutters his name so softly when they praise him really means the world to Gale.

Shadowheart:

- More than anyone else, Shadowheart can appreciate the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden behind some firmly closed doors. She finds herself drawn to your quiet personality as the rest of the party are a bit boisterous for her taste, often favouring the seat beside you at any given campfire, knowing her boundaries will be respected, and any conversation made will be worthwhile.

- Once you two are together, she sees you as a respite from the endless questions of the outside world. The two of you can spend hours in comfortable silence together, only your interlocking fingers letting the other know you are still there. You give her the space to think through her decisions, but at the same time she knows that if you choose to speak up then she really should consider listening to what you have to say.

- Shadowheart finds herself more able to share pieces of herself with you, as you open up at the same gradual pace that she does. You don't rush to tell her everything or bombard her with questions like the others. Instead she'll often finding you waiting outside her tent at first light when she rises, offering her a hand for a quiet stroll through the forest as you softly tell her a tale from your childhood and she tries to imagine herself growing up alongside you, in a sweet version of her life she could almost convince herself is the truth.

- Shadowheart doesn't fully know her past, but with you as her partner, her future finally starts to come into focus, all because of you.

Karlach:

- Karlach has been loud and brash since the moment she could speak, so at first she thinks your shy demeanour is a sign of rejection of her friendship. It's disappointing that you don't want to talk to her, but she's not sensitive enough to worry about what every single person thinks of her. It would be endlessly frustrating to you that you have to really put yourself out there, making every effort to be by her side and forcing yourself to respond to her every remark to try and let her know you really do like her. In the end you'd just have to ask her to dance at a celebration with the rest of the group, and when she laughs and says she thought you didn't like her, please prepare yourself to tell her you like her so much that it makes it genuinely hard to talk sometimes.

- Once Karlach understands the concept of shyness and that it is not a personal affront to her, she will be very happy to do all the speaking for both of you. Every journey you take across the lands she will gladly fill the silence with every thought and tale, celebrating loudly every times she manages to make you gasp or laugh along with her.

- Karlach will take a lot of pride in the thought that you like her so much that you are almost rendered speechless, and get quite jealous when she realises you are being shy around other people too. Worried that everyone will be seduced by your strong-silent type behaviour she would definitely insist on holding your hand as much as possible, or loudly shouting across combat that you and her are an item just in case anyone was getting the wrong idea.

- While your personality might have started as a bit of a mystery to Karlach, once you two really know each other she'll come to highly value your way of carrying yourself, learning a few things about protecting herself from undue influences, while keeping herself open to the important people in her life, like you!

[delirious-donna]

Museum Mishaps [Part Six]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: It's been two days since that night at the bar, and Kento is the one to suggest a trip to the museum. Leaving you to wonder... is it a date?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: SFW except for one small mention of masturbation, humour, forced proximity, two oblivious idiots, misunderstandings, a little bickering, Kento is a museum nerd

Part Five | Series Masterlist | Part Seven

The weekend came and went without further incident between yourself and Kento. That wasn’t to say that things were perfect, but it no longer felt awkward when the two of you occupied the same room. It was much like living with a roommate, which you supposed it was, and you had dealt with that in your first year of college without maiming or killing anyone. Although, you couldn’t recall wanting to fuck your roommate either, so perhaps the comparison wasn’t accurate after all.

Whilst the memory of almost blurting out your late-night wandering hands still burnt freshly in your mind, the rest of the evening had been saved by it. The heat of Kento’s rejection didn’t sting too badly once he turned those hazel eyes on you, suspicion pinning you in place. Anything was better than the look he had given you in the bar.

Thankfully, the banter and easy conversation returned. It was easier to tease him about the incident than dwell on it. Heaven knows you weren’t going to make another move like that. You’d play it off as some silly joke rather than see your feelings hurt. Kento wasn’t interested, and that was okay. You weren’t everyone’s cup of tea, you understood that. Knowing where you stood now, it was a lot easier to build those bonds with your best friend’s brother—for that was all he could ever be.

Kento, on the other hand, felt like an opportunity had slipped through his fingers. It was gone before he could react or try to claw it back. Whilst he was glad that your good humour returned, he couldn’t help but fixate on those unspoken words. It was hard to look past the idea that something was staring him right in the face, and he simply couldn’t bring the image into focus to understand it.

So many times, his mouth had opened, words on the tip of his tongue, only to shut it again. His lack of courage irritated him. Handfuls of his neatly parted hair pushed back to hide how badly he wanted to scrub a palm down his face.

He was no coward.

Except he was.

The dreams were worse than ever. There were never full scenes but enough lingering fragments that tormented him each morning upon waking. Bright sunshine smiles, the warmth of a touch he wasn’t accustomed to and the sound of his name. Such torture, and perhaps, if he weren’t wearing his obliviousness as armour to protect his heart, he would realise that his brain was trying to tell him something.

He was ashamed to admit that he had masturbated more in these three days than he had in almost an entire year. He was more ashamed that he felt more relaxed than he had in an even longer time than that. Whilst he still followed a lot of his daily routine, being able to deviate or change things around was rather freeing, and of course, he wouldn’t put any of it down to the relief he was giving to his body. Preposterous.

Kento missed your presence when you skipped out the door on an adventure he wasn’t invited to. Raising a hand half-heartedly when you waved your goodbyes and clock-watching until you returned. Your stories were fast becoming the best part of his day. Listening raptly to you rave about this quaint little second-hand bookstore you discovered and expressing so emphatically how much you were sure he would love the place, he looked forward to it. It felt like he was rediscovering the city he had lived in for years through fresh eyes and he enjoyed your unique take on the world.

His smile was genuine, if not tinged bittersweet. It was warming that you thought of him when he wasn’t around, but it would be so much better if he could be there with you, and that was quite the realisation to swallow.

In the end, it was that sense of missing out that caused him to blurt out an invitation this morning. The two of you sat side by side at the kitchen island savouring the coffee he had brewed for you both, whilst you thought out loud about where today might take you.

“There’s a wildlife photography exhibition at the National Museum. Kento paused, pretending not to be eyeing you over the corner of his newspaper. “I was thinking of going… would you like to join me?”

He waited with bated breath, silently cursing how nervous he felt and already working on how he would cover his disappointment when you inevitably declined his offer.

“Yes, please! That sounds like fun. I’ve never been to the National Museum before, could we look around as well?”

Kento blinked. In his head, he was ready to say not to worry and that he’d go by himself, but your enthusiasm bowled him over. Shutting his paper, he turned to you and bowed his head in a nod. “Of course. We could leave in around an hour and have most of the day to explore. I’ll just go change out of these sweatpants.”

You watched as he practically scuttled out of the kitchen and down the hallway. It was very unlike him to move so swiftly, and you stifled a laugh before preparing for the outing yourself, dancing along to the soft music playing over the apartment speakers in your excitement for the day ahead.

~

It was hard to look in every direction as you traversed the wide-open atrium that served as the central hub of the museum, but you gave it a damn good go. More than once you bumped into Kento when a new curiosity stole your attention, apologising almost half-heartedly, and not because you weren’t sorry for nudging him so often, it was more that your brain was too busy processing everything it could see.

A large bronze statue of Buddha caught your eye, and you skittered across the polished floor to stand in front of the information plate, eagerly absorbing all it had to tell.

Kento couldn’t help but smile. Your enthusiasm was proving infectious, and he strolled with newfound intrigue towards you tapping photo after photo of the statue on your phone. “I didn’t take you for a museum connoisseur. Every time I’ve come here with Karin, she has whined and pleaded to leave almost as soon as we got here.”

“Oh, tell me about it. I tried to get her to go to this really cool space exhibition that our college was hosting and she flat-out refused.” You harrumphed at the memory of her expression filled with disgust. “I’m not your sister, Kento.”

You moved away to grab up one of the folded paper guides with a map of the place, and Kento was glad of the second’s reprieve after that last comment. No, you weren’t his sister. He swallowed and raised a hand to loosen the knot of his tie only to remember, at the last moment, he wasn’t in a shirt and tie. Another stark reminder of how little downtime he ever afforded himself. Perhaps, it was time for a change.

“If you enjoy space, follow me,” he said with a subtle wiggle of his eyebrows when he walked towards you for the second time. Waving towards the open entranceway to the left, you turned and glanced up into the skeletal remains of what you guessed to be a T-Rex. It made you giggle, and Nanami followed you closely, shaking his head in good humour at the renewed spring in your step.

He led you through a gallery filled with animals of all shapes and sizes, from the long-extinct to the endangered to the thriving. Creatures of the sea, land and air hung suspended from invisible supports, and even a baby blue whale graced the visitors with the enormity of its skeletal shadow. You would have stopped at every sign and interactive spot if not for wishing to keep pace with your guide. Whilst he wasn’t storming ahead, his pace wasn’t meant for the careful reading of every fact you could digest.

It was worth it when you reached an area darker than the previous section, with minerals and twinkling geodes shown behind glass cases. The remnants of a lunar capsule marked one corner with children standing around an employee giving an enthusiastic talk about the moon landings. Models of the solar system in varying sizes caught your attention, but what really stood out was the black dome in the centre.

Stopping short of the hidden entrance you spied when a woman and little boy slipped inside, you tapped Kento’s shoulder. “What’s inside there?”

“Now, why would I spoil the surprise, hm?”

Without another word, he marched inside to leave you standing there, blinking in amused confusion. This playful side was interesting, fun even, and you hoped it would last throughout the visit.

Never in a million years did you think you’d find yourself lying on your back staring up at the celestial bodies that made up the Universe with Nanami Kento by your side. He was seated on the floor along the wall when you found him, grateful for the small pillow he’d managed to secure for the both of you given how crowded it was inside. The noise of families, friends in little groups and the odd couple or two died down when the low lighting completely extinguished to bathe you in darkness. You found that you had to lie closer to Kento than you would have chosen, but he didn’t seem perturbed by your nearness, in fact, he turned his head to give you a smile that made your stomach flutter with rambunctuous butterflies.

Denying your attraction to him was growing harder once more, and you did your best to focus on the story above you rather than trying to identify the notes of his cologne that wafted into your nose. The heat of his body licked at your own, warming you thoroughly though you were far from cold. This felt… intimate, or it would, if it were a date.

Was this a date? No.

A mighty boom echoed through the sound system to symbolise the moment of the big bang, and you audibly shrieked in surprise. There were titters of laughter from every side, heat filled your face instantly, and you lifted your hands to cover your eyes in embarrassment.

“Are you alright?” Kento’s concerned voice whispered in hushed tones only loud enough so you would hear. His breath fanned your ear from the action of shuffling closer, and you had to fight the urge to shudder in appreciation.

“Fine, I’m… fine.”

He wasn’t buying it, and honestly, he didn’t feel too hot himself. If he spread out his fingers he would brush your hand, that’s how close you were. The near blackness illuminated by the twinkle of projected stars overhead intensified the already far too intimate setting, and despite how crowded it was, everyone faded from his mind as he thought of only you. Kento imagined the two of you spread out like this on a warm picnic blanket, the real heavenly bodies above you and how nice it might be to kiss you beneath their ethereal watch.

The lights came back to life without warning, although had he been paying attention to the experience, it wouldn’t have been such a surprise. Blinking and slightly dazed, Kento sat up and quickly got to his feet, dusting down his trousers and smoothing away any wrinkles. He reached out to help you stand before thinking twice, your hand slid into his with perfect ease, and for a moment, he simply stared at you in longing.

His hand was warm, the texture rougher than expected, and when he finally pulled it back, you wanted to tighten your fingers and refuse to let go. The hustle surrounding you both wasn’t enough to sway your attention nor was it enough to calm your racing heart. Your gaze caught the attention of a young couple, hand in hand and laughing about something unknowable, and you coveted what they had, and you didn’t—couldn’t. He didn’t want you like that, and no matter how much you wished this could be a date, it wasn’t.

“Come on, let’s get moving or we’ll never see everything else.”

Kento heard your words. He saw your smile and the wave of your hand to beckon him onwards, but he didn’t believe them. For that brief moment, when your hand was in his, he felt your fingers twitch almost imperceptibly. More wishful thinking on his part? He wasn’t sure, but he was determined not to spoil the day by moping in his uncertainty.

The hours melted away much like the sun rising and dipping in the sky outside. An air of fragility lingered despite both your efforts to dispel the effects of earlier. The exhibitions and various collections were intriguing, but none more so than the man trailing a few paces behind you. An enigma that you were sure you’d started to unravel, but now… you weren’t so sure anymore.

He offered tidbits of information that only a history buff would be able to, the tips of his ears blushing beet red whenever you pointed that fact out. So many times you wanted to sneak up real close when he was engrossed in reading something, the desire to run your fingertips over his ribs and find out if he was ticklish or not, but you knew that wasn’t a good idea.

The wildlife photography exhibition was far quieter than you suspected it would be, and you were grateful to be wrong. After a good few hours of trailing around the massive building, fatigue was setting in and finding a soft seat to rest your tired feet was a pleasant result. Leaning back on your elbows on the overstuffed leather rectangle that sat in the middle of the gallery, you could watch the comings and goings from every angle.

Kento stalked between the various shots that lined the walls, pausing and tilting his head in keen fascination. He was your sole focus, the unexpecting prey with a jaw cut from pure marble. Your lips quirked involuntarily each time he rocked on the balls of his feet—a habit you had not long noticed. If you weren’t much mistaken, Kento seemed to favour long shots where the subject was captured in action; a tiger swimming through a moss topped lake, hyenas circling the kill of a lioness and a vibrant green frog leaping majestically towards a tree branch.

“Do you dabble?” You asked quietly, having approached after your short rest. “In photography, I mean.”

“Hm? Oh. No, nothing like that.”

Kento shuffled awkwardly towards the next picture, a flock of wild birds taking flight from the long grass of a savannah. “How come? You sure seem interested,” you pressed further, eyebrows knitting at the discomfort you sensed in him.

“It wouldn’t be an effective use of my time. I don’t have the hours to sink into a hobby that would see me gain nothing in return,” he explained to your utter aghast.

“What about happiness? Indulgence? There doesn’t always have to be a measurable outcome for something to be fun and worthwhile.”

He scoffed, and you scowled. “You’re still young…”

“Well, I’d rather stay young than become a jaded corporate slave like someone I could mention.” You stalked away to the other side of the room, perturbed by just how little stock he seemed to put into his own mental and emotional well-being. “And I’m not that young, Kento.”

He couldn’t understand your sudden ire. What did it matter to you what he did with his free time? More like what he didn’t do, he supposed. Sure, there had been a time in his adolescence when he carried a Polaroid camera around with him, the bulky piece of equipment tucked into his backpack and brought out to capture those moments that weren’t posed for, finding a special kind of beauty in the raw exposure of life.

It had been nothing but a phase. One left behind when he entered college and started to work towards the life he wished to live. Only now, he wasn’t so sure he was living the life he dreamed of. He achieved the successes he set out to, but was he happy? That was a hard question to stomach, let alone try to answer honestly.

“Why do you look like you want to yell at me?”

Glancing sideways, you frowned up at his towering frame and felt the heat of his anger wash over you to meld with your own. “Because you make it sound like any interest outside of endlessly working or working out is redundant. Irresponsible. Stupid!” Your voice rose higher, the words punched out with a flap of your hands.

“Do you care so little for what makes you happy? It makes me… mad,” you continued with a slight pause. The familiar tight, itchy feeling invaded your throat whilst the prickle of tears stung your eyes. Goddammit! You hated that you wanted to cry when you were angry, and the last person you wanted to see those tears wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t.

“Oh, Howard, look there. Doesn’t that bring back memories?” The amused voice of a woman who appeared in her early sixties caught your attention. Quickly wiping at the stray tears at your lashline, both you and Kento turned to the couple who were staring right at you.

The man chuckled indulgently at his wife, patting her hand that was secured through his arm and whispered something that couldn’t be heard. His wife nudged him playfully, and you could only look on in complete bemusement. They walked closer, the woman offering a kindly smile as she reached out to pat Kento’s arm, then yours.

“They say that couples shouldn’t bicker, especially in public,” she said with a slight laugh. “But don’t listen to such rubbish. Howard and I used to snipe at each other regularly, and we’ve been married thirty-five years.”

“Oh, no! You misunderstand, we’re not…”

She held up a hand to silence your stammered protests, shaking her head with a chuckle. “My dear, when you’ve been around as long as we have, you start to trust what your gut tells you. I won’t say anything else except to offer this one piece of advice. Don’t go to bed angry, and don’t wait to go after what you truly want.”

“That was two, dear. Come on, let’s not bother them any longer.” With wisdom imparted, the older couple bustled away, leaving you to blink in bewilderment.

You could feel Kento by your side, his body rigid and unmoving. So badly you wanted to glance up and find out what his expression was, but honestly, you weren’t sure if it was a good idea or not. What could the couple have seen in you? Was it so obvious that you were interested? Even if that was true, surely his disinterest was just as plain to see?

“Well… that was unexpected. I’m sorry for yelling. It’s your life, after all, you should do whatever you believe is best. Can we go get a bite to eat and head home–I mean, back to your apartment?”

Kento could only nod. He couldn’t help but feel as if everything he had come to believe as true was crumbling around his ears. The ideals and principles he set for himself all those long years ago no longer seemed important. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d taken time off work, albeit enforced this time, and he had never felt so unsure of himself.

It was you. Your presence was the catalyst, and he didn’t know whether to thank or curse you. How could one person cause so much inner turmoil without trying? He watched as you wandered towards the archway that would take you back to the main atrium, the light from the skylight caught across your face and your simple smile blinded him.

Don’t wait to go after what you truly want… would he take the advice that continued to ring in his head?

[for-those-who-wait]

Hey I think I asked you about your Detroit become human au before a bit ago but I love the idea so much! I know you’re super busy but if you can I would love to see more about it!

Sorry for asking about it again I’m just really interested in it. 😭🙏

No please don't be sorry I love to talk about it whenever I'm not creatively bankrupt!! I'm just sorry it took so long for me to actually think of new stuff to add

I had some of these doodles already prepared but never really finished them up until I came up with a cute little idea

I didn't think of where to put in Flapjack until I remembered that android animals existed, and then I had a brain blast moment where I realized that Hunter can still talk to Flapjack! They are little android buddies, they can interface and talk and be friends!! I think it would also help to make him feel a bit more comfortable with his identity as an android to be able to have his little buddy to have fun private conversations with. Camila introduces them (maybe he had gotten hurt by a previous owner and she found him and let Gus fix him up) and Hunter is a bit tentative about it at first, but Flapjack is adorable and sweet and quickly wins him over

I just now had the idea that Gus, since he's super into android stuff, would probably be a big resource for software and hardware difficulties. Oh, you fell and your arm is working kinda wonky? Call up Gus, he'll crack you open and take a look. The dude doesn't mind in the least, he freaking LOVES going down mechanical and coding rabbit holes to better understand how androids work. I like to think that if Hunter ever got hurt and chose not to accept help because of body/species dysphoria, Gus would be a really good resource for him to try and feel as normal as possible while he's getting fixed. Gus is his brother and he loves him and they're just good to each other okay? Gus would probably crack some jokes or something to get Hunter's mind off it, or infodump about android organs or something (and Hunter would be begrudgingly interested because they are nerds, and Hunter is interested in androids too underneath all the problems he has with deviancy. Like dude they're robots, what's not to love?)

Also some Gus being so over Hunter's "androids can't feel love" phase featuring Vee and Masha being very adorable and very obviously in love :) Hunter is a very silly stupid man. He will find any way to make literally everyone exempt from the terrible rules Philip fed him, except for himself

I'm trying to think of a potential situation that would parallel Hunter's possession, and I think it would probably be basically the same thing that happens in Connor's deviant path (when he deviates and joins the revolution as an ally) where Amanda (a separate AI in his programming that's basically how CyberLife keeps him in check) takes over Connor's programming last minute to try and put a stop to the revolution.

So my current thought is that Philip is basically using Hunter as a trojan horse. His main programming is to act and believe like he's a normal human but similar to Connor, he's basically a sleeper agent without knowing. I imagine that once Hunter gains access to his software (thanks to Vee and Gus), he starts finding programs and files that are labeled as pretty scary things. He shouldn't have to know the most efficient way to shut an android down or incapacitate a human.

If and when Philip finally goes looking for Hunter and sees the first android he's seen in Gravesfield besides Hunter (aka Vee), he's not going to take that well.

I haven't drawn anything for it but so far I'm thinking that he takes control of Hunter's programming, maybe through some taking advantage of his interfacing system, and locks him in his own head a la Connor and Amanda to sic him after Vee and Flapjack (assuming that Philip's main goal, similar to both canons, is to eradicate deviants). It's likely that his friends will try to apprehend him, Vee or Gus will try (and maybe fail a couple times) to delete the programming while Camila deals with Philip. The guy is old and decrepit and Camila would absolutely whoop his ass with the ease of swatting a fly.

Things will be fine; Vee is all good and they manage to delete whatever programming screwed with Hunter's control, but that kid is going to be HELLA anxious about interfacing again from then on since he's afraid of 1) losing his own control and 2) potentially passing the virus onto someone else. It could go two ways at that point: Hunter could either kill Flapjack since Flapjack is technically a deviant android and therefore a target, or we can be nice and let Flapjack live to help him heal from this brand-new trauma.

So yeah hopefully that sates some curiosity! I'm glad you're interested in it because I honestly really love to think of new stuff whenever my brain decides to work hahaha

[acorviart]

Europe VAT laws not changing any time soon, recent. If understand FAQ well, mean shipping to Europe impossible for several years minimum?

That's correct, I won't be shipping to the EU for the foreseeable future due to some import packaging regulations that either have already been implemented or are planning to be implemented in the future.

Note that this is for EU countries only—I can ship to all other non-EU countries like Switzerland, except for the UK due to the UK's own convoluted VAT system.

The only workaround I can offer for EU folks is that you can have a friend or family that lives in a non-EU country place an order to deliver to their address, and then they are able to ship that order to you marked as a gift. Not an option for everyone, I know.

Longer explanation under the readmore for those curious:

As it stands now, each EU country has its own system and fees that I can't keep up with (for example, France would cost me 80 euros per year), I'd need to individually register and report to each country, some require reporting and tracking of what sources of packaging I use, I believe? It's all very complicated, and it makes my head spin just trying to figure out what the requirements actually are, so that's why I stopped shipping to the EU entirely out of an abundance of caution. I also just don't get enough sales to the EU to justify the headache, I'd probably actually lose money paying all the fees. Actually, while I was looking up details while writing this post, apparently there's a new PPWR that's going to replace the old EU Packaging Directive? This is why I can't handle this (ಥ﹏ಥ)

As for why this doesn't seem to be affecting all companies—corporations can obviously afford their own professionals whose entire job is to handle this stuff, and the requirements are also different for large vs small volumes. Meanwhile, a lot of other small or 1-person businesses straight up don't know about these requirements, because it's not like there's a memo passed around about updates to international shipping law. It's also even more confusing because some packages are slipping by without any issue, probably in part due to how the regulations are still new and still being implemented, so I assume it's kind of a mess.

I know of a few people who are willingly taking the risk and shipping to the EU anyway and have had no consequences (for now at least), but I'm not risking the fines ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now for the UK, their VAT system doesn't have anything to do with packaging, but what it does require is similar registration with the government, and I'm required to collect and pay the VAT myself. No thanks!

TLDR; laws hard. laws also expensive. too stupid to figure out and too fearful of fines. no ship to countries

fun story: someone also once emailed me this long diatribe about how they think I'm shit at research and that I'm just making all this up (specifically just to screw with europeans or something, I guess?), so I sent them a few links to the literal official government websites where I got my info (like that UK one), and they never responded. lol

[yandere-romanticaa]

I can't just let Douma be in the spotlight now, can I?

For the past few months, you'd have a secret little rendezvous every single night without fail. You never saw his face as he would always have his back turned to you but you eventually gave up on pestering him to reveal himself fully.

He stumbled upon you randomly as you were tending to your garden and humming to yourself. It was a long way until his destination so the demon decided to take a breather, just for a little bit.

Besides, to him, you were nothing more than a potential snack at the time.

Your blood was young and hot and your flesh smelled sweet - the ultimate food. However, even a monster such as Upper Moon One liked to enjoy himself from time to time. He patiently waited for you to finish humming and he would strike you down then.

Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine that you would be able to even see him let alone approach him.

Tiny specks of fear and suspicion laced your voice but other then that you were completely friendly towards him.

It was moronic. He didn't understand why he chose to entertain you and your stupid questions.

You were cautious of him at the beginning but still kept a kind and friendly air around you, an odd change of pace for the demon.

And that is how this entire thing started, him and you, together in the moonlight. His checkered black and purple haori swayed lightly with the wind as his long hair covered most of his back, except his sword. You would often remark that because of the weapon he carried you oddly felt safe around him, that if anything dangerous would cross your path he could just hack it to bits. There was a bit of truth there, he was indeed capable of slicing down anything and anyone who stood in his way.

It's simply your own fault for not realizing that he was the danger you should run away from.

Kokushibo was amazed at how at ease you felt with him, so much so that you never actually stopped to analyze your surroundings - the world would go stale and quiet the moment he made his presence known, all of the woodland beings would flee the moment they would catch a whiff of the scary demon. The eerie silence did not stop you from babbling endlessly and Kokushibo himself never actually made the effort to do so either.

He'd would often ask himself why was he even wasting time with you like this. Someone this naive, silly and carefree was a walking target, dare he even say a simple meal on legs even. Any other demon would have eaten you by now and would have savored every single bite.

He hated himself a little because of this, for wasting his time with you.

But the thought of cutting you down made his chest ache, a feeling he had almost completely forgotten.

So he settled on this, for now. He would indulge you on your little outings and, while he would never dare to say it, he indulged himself as well by simply being in your company. When he was with you he was just another ordinary person.

The truth of his nature could still be a secret for a while.