#if you want to discuss anything i'm up for it

[freakyformula]

Have my baby - Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+, breeding kink obviously, creampie, unprotected sex

Word count: 1,4k

I feel like you’d realise that Max has a raging breeding kink right in the middle of a heated makeout session one ordinary Tuesday night.

"Damn, schat, you're so beautiful… Wanna put a baby in you so bad."

His comment freezes both of you. He must have realised what he just said and stopped in his tracks, scanning you for a reaction. But your face is blank, free of any emotion.

You're in shock, Max had never even mentioned having kids of your own before. Sure, you both knew that you wanted kids someday but you had not discussed it further until now. Besides, Max was good with children, and the biggest dream you had was to have a baby with him. But his admission came as a surprise.

You huff, "Baby, huh?" Gazing up at his icy blue eyes. They were filled with shame, and his head sunk into the crook of your neck with a sigh. Your hands sink into his thick hair, and you can't help but pull on it slightly, encouraging him to look up again.

"Max, look at me." You tell him, and he does, still with that adorable frown on his face.

"Say it again." You order.

"I'm not doing that, Y/N." Max quickly replies.

You sigh. "I didn't know you had a breeding kink, Max." You wink at him.

You're really into the idea. "Baby…" You whisper while playing with his hair and brushing over your stomach, imagining feeling a baby bump under your hand.

"Liefje, I didn't mean to-" He starts, his tone slightly panicked, but you stop him before he can explain himself.

"I like that, Max." You admit. As you say that, his eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" He coos while peppering your face with kisses.

"Yeah…" You giggle. "I mean, I wasn't exactly ready to hear that from you but I like it."

Max lets out a laugh, "I wasn't thinking, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

You shush him, "You didn't, trust me."

He offers you a faint smile as he traces his hand against your cheek.

"Can I remove these?" Max asks rather desperately, pointing to your jeans, making you nod and assisting him in dragging them off.

When the sweet smell of you hits him, he inhales and lets out a small whimper. "God, smell heavenly…"

His words make you blush, and while he's busy taking your underwear off, you look down at his bulge.

"Need you so bad, Maxie." You whine while palming his jeans.

He answers with a couple of thrusts against your hand, feeling desperate to have you and to get out of the tightening lock-up of his pants.

Something in him switches when he sees your pussy, and he manhandles your tiny figure onto your hands and knees.

"Please Max, need you." You beg. Your hand slides down to your heat, and you're already soaked. As you're playing with your clit, you slide two fingers in, stretching yourself for him.

You hear the clinking of his belt behind you, and you look back at him, arching your back further, allowing him to see you even better.

"Such a tease…" He chuckles, and you feel something slide along your slit. Something wet and familiar. You recognize it as his tongue almost instantly, and you can't help letting out a moan.

"Hmmm, taste even better." He whispers against your core. As he's licking and sucking on your clit, his nose brushes against your seeping hole, wetting his face.

You feel yourself getting closer by the second as you feel two of his fingers penetrate you and curl up against your G-spot.

Max feels the way you're clenching around his fingers, almost cutting off blood supply to his poor digits.

Before you even had the chance to react, you came. The feeling of him on you is overwhelming and you're frantically trying to get away, but he's holding himself and you in place, still sucking on your clit and fingering you frantically.

When you've come down, Max pulls his fingers out and collapses beside you, stroking your flushed cheek with his fingers.

"So what do you say, schat?" He asks, his eyes filled with adoration.

"About what?"

He pauses before he speaks, "Let's have a baby." He says, still looking at you.

"Max…" You try to sound serious but the thought of having his baby is tempting. "You're away all the time for work. It wouldn't work."

"I'll quit if you want me to. Just have a baby with me."

Silence. You try to come up with a good excuse, but the post-orgasm haze makes it hard. The only reason you're waiting is because of his career. And if he quits, there's no reason for you to wait. "You can't stop racing just because you want a baby, Max."

"Watch me, Y/N… Besides, if we make a baby now, it'll be born in the off-season, it's perfect!" He tries to resonate.

"You've planned this really well, haven't you?" You giggle.

"Mhm… You would make the most beautiful mama. You and pregnancy would complement each other." He coos while rolling you over onto your back, kissing you all over your face, making you burst out in laughter.

"Okay, okay, I give up!" You laugh, allowing Max to hover over you.

"Let's make a baby." You whisper, not sure if he heard you.

"Oh… Love." He sighs contently while pulling your hoodie off and freeing himself from his jeans and underwear. "I love you." He leans in and catches your mouth in a searing kiss, his cheeks flushing with each word.

The thought of making love to you without any barriers, feeling you for real, sends Max reeling.

His knees push your legs apart, placing himself between them. Max can't help capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, tasting your lips with his tongue. Excitement runs through him as you run your fingers down his body to his pulsating member, you grab it and give it a few pumps before brushing it against your cunt, collecting the slick from your previous orgasm on his tip.

"Are you really sure about this?" He asks for confirmation one last time.

"I'm sure of it, Max." You reply, giving his nose a gentle kiss.

Max is beaming at you when he hears the words, and slowly slides into you, connecting two bodies into one. When the tip is in, you stop him with a hand on his stomach. You would never get used to his size. "It's okay, schat, take a moment." He tries to comfort you.

Once you've adjusted to him, you nod to indicate your readiness to continue. He slowly burrows into you, ensuring you feel okay and as comfortable as possible while showering you with praise and encouragement.

"Doing so well for me, liefje."

"Looking so good like this."

"Our babies will be just as beautiful as you."

"I'm so lucky to have you."

When he bottoms out, you moan out brokenly, as does he. The feeling of him sheathed in you almost sends you into a raging orgasm instantly, in any case, you're close.

"Look at me, Y/N." He asks as he pumps into you. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you are desperately trying to keep yourself together. When you hear his words though, you open your eyes, only to find him close, looking at your contorted face. The sight of him aids your impending orgasm, and you're pushed over the edge with the help of his thrusts.

As you moan out your second orgasm, you suck Max' delicious lower lip into your mouth, while rocking your hips to get some kind of relief. Max doesn't let you come down this time and continues pumping into you, increasing his pace.

You are both a moaning mess; kissing, sucking, licking each other wherever your mouths happen to land.

"Can't wait to see your stomach swell with my child, lieve." Max stills, out of breath, drops of sweat decorating his forehead. He stills in you, pulling your legs up on his shoulders, folding you in half. The change of angle, his tip against your G-spot, drives you into a frenzy. You're hyper-aware of everything happening, his hands on your body leaving goosebumps wherever he touches, his eyes on you, feeling like fire, his thrusts, god, you're going to cum again.

You clench around him, "My god, I'm close." Max announces, "Please, cum with me." He begs while he picks up the pace, slamming into your cervix again and again until you both yell in ecstasy. You feel streaks of his seed painting your insides while you milk his member dry.

Max collapses on top of you, spent and tired. "Jesus, Y/N."

You giggle into his shoulder, you too feeling tired, but happy.

"What if it actually sticks on the first try?" You ask.

"Might as well go for another round to up our chances." Max winks at you.

[mistresscitrusslice]

The Season 2 Opening. We Must Discuss.

First of all, small beans. Instead of static, lifeless statues, this time we get moving humans. Mel features significantly more than I expected, so she'll probably be a much more major character than I expected for a non-champion character and I'm so happy for her. I believe the use of moving people instead of statues signifies that immense change will be happening. What we thought was literally set in stone in Season 1 will be turned on its head in Season 2.

Okay, on to the really concerning matters.

Yuhuh. Jinx moves too fast for me to get a good screenshot, but she gestures like this around her face a lot. I think we all already know about the Caitlyn-Jinx parallels, but my sister suggests it could be a red herring for the actual resemblances she has to Silco.

Sis gets credit for the following observation, but Caitlyn's daydream sequences about shooting Jinx are controlled and clearly separated from reality unlike Jinx's.

However, sis has not seen ep 2 yet, where Caitlyn does have that moment in the arcade where she shoots her vision of Jinx among the wooden dummies. Not only does this more closely resemble Jinx's hallucinations, it also parallels Jinx shooting the harmless crow in s1 e5. By the time the strike squad are about to leave, she can clearly tell that what she thought might be Jinx was really just a harmless wooden standee. Startling, but harmless. She shoots it anyway.

Caitlyn is totally gonna spiral more, and maybe she'll start losing her grip on reality too, but for now, she has more in common with Silco than she does with Jinx. Did anyone else get reminded of Silco's coat when Ambessa put the supervillain cape on Caitlyn? The collars don't look similar but they still eerily resemble each other, you get me?

Ok back to intro stuff

Vi wipes off her name from her face. That's two tattoos that are rendered impermanent in this opening theme. In the Fenty x Arcane video, they mention that Mel's golden freckles are tattoos. Later in the intro song, we also see her golden freckles gone. Change, impermanence. That seems to be a theme here.

Vi is literally erasing her name from her face. In any normal circumstance, I'd say that means she wants a change of identity, a desire to start over. However, I know that Vi's League lore involves amnesia. Does she really drink herself into that bad of a stupor? Jkjk. I assumed that her amnesia was replaced by the Stillwater imprisonment to explain how she got topside and with the enforcers, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe they do still intend to go the amnesia or partial amnesia route with her.

The teasers implied that Vi shares the genetic trait that has Jinx predisposed to hallucinations. It's possible that this eventually contributes to her loss of memory, but I wouldn't call it quite yet. However, if this happens during her emo era when I'm assuming she has no support system, she'll be very vulnerable, unlike if it were to happen while she was still partnered with Caitlyn, in which case they could easily fill in most blanks in her memory.

I have no idea what to make of this. It's clear as day what they're paralleling, but why? Why the flashlight scene? My best guess is that they're trying to draw on déjà vu, implying a repetition of history, but why this particular moment? They could've easily chosen anything else in Jayce's s1 arc. He has many more memorable moments than this. Let's see, I'm literally making this up as I go.

This meeting was a pivotal moment for Jayce. Both his meeting with Viktor and his meeting with Mel changed his fate. The Viktor one is pretty self-explanatory, but without meeting Mel, they would've both just gotten exiled or locked up again. With Mel, they had someone in power who could vouch for them.

That begs the question, is Jayce meeting someone new? Or is this a reintroduction to someone he's already known before, a new meeting after a long time apart or after a significant change, maybe a change in them both. I believe it must be someone who was involved in the original hallway scene.

Jayce is either looking at Mel again or at Viktor. Given the amount of Viktor/Mel parallels in Season 1, I believe Jayce is looking at Viktor after he's undergone his likely final evolution. That'll obviously be another pivotal moment for him... but will it be a good one like it was with Mel? Viktor has power now. He's performing miracles. He's, like, two steps away from parting the Pilt River like it's the Red Sea. He seems to hold a grudge against Jayce, though, for *checks notes* saving his life? Jk I know he feels like he's losing autonomy and like Jayce didn't respect his wishes with the Hexcore and Jayce obviously couldn't let Viktor die when he'd fought so hard to stay alive before.

Anyway, I feel like this could easily be both a good omen and a bad omen for Jayce. More than anything, I feel like it'll be an epiphany. He is quite literally seeing the light. The light at the end of the dark tunnel? The light of the heavens at the end of his life? The light of a revelation sent by a god he once knew as a man?

Seeing Mel screaming bloody murder during the opening, this was the first place my mind went to. The pose doesn't match up exactly, and Jinx/Powder's screams are definitely wilder, but I feel like there's definitely something here. Is there anyone else who screams like this, thrusting their head forward and keeping their arms back?

We also see the shadow hands from this earlier shot:

I'm thinking of the Black Rose (is that their name?) kidnapping her in thin air, incorporeal hands reaching at her and snatching my joy the love of my life Mel away. It could also represent people grasping at the power Mel wields, both as the wealthiest Council member and as a Noxian princess, one of the closest people to Ambessa, the one wielding the most power right now.

Mel is really out of her depth right now. Her power and influence is up for grabs if she dares to blink and let her guard down. I'm also surprised that we don't see her fight back at all when there's danger around. I thought she might have more battle experience as she was raised by Ambessa. For those people wondering about her magical powers, I think she would've used them by now if she had them. Council attack aside, which could've been Viktor's magic, she wasn't able to do anything about the memorial attack or her own kidnapping. I think they're trying to show us that Mel is not as untouchable as she presents herself. Under the right circumstances, she's just as vulnerable as any civilian.

The sliver of light? My sister pointed out that it looks just like the crack of light between two double doors. Almost closed... or barely open? It appears in pretty much everyone's shot in the opening, but it's right down the center of Mel's face here. Is she torn between two sides? Is this about an impossible choice she has to make?

The spotlight is also on her. That's two sources of light. It looks like a red sun. All eyes on her as the surviving voice of the Council?

And her expression... shock, fear, horror. The heavy breathing, the look on her face... I feel eerily like I've seen it on someone else before. I can't place who, but I'm getting déjà vu from this. Does anyone else recognize this expression and these mannerisms?

[ssentimentals]

Hello!! For the drabbles. Svt Mingyu, suggestive "Say the word and I'm yours!" Thank you! 🥰😍😍

hi, sweetheart! thank you so much for requesting 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'say the word and i'm yours.'

you are not jealous. friends can't be jealous of their friends, so therefore you are not jealous. and mingyu obviously can talk to whoever he wishes, but you haven't see each other in a week and it just makes you a bit sad - sad, not hurt - that he's on the other end of the room, talking to his friend. you just miss him and would've loved to have his attention on you right now, but it's fine. it's all fine and you're definitely not pouting.

'oh my god,' hoshi wheezes, cackling deviously. 'you with yours 'i don't want his attention' and mingyu with his 'we are just friends' make the most amazing pair.'

'shut up,' you push at him, still pouting. 'and i don't need his attention!'

'mhm. that's why you've been eyeing him all this time?'

god, hoshi can be such a menace sometimes. you glare at him, raising your voice a little: 'i haven't been eyeing him!'

'who?'

of course it's mingyu. hoshi winks at you and leaves without saying anything, letting mingyu take his place right in front of you. and- he looks good. which is nothing new because mingyu always looks good, but you haven't seen him in a week, so a little staring can be justified, right? 'no one,' you say, smiling when he hands you a drink.

'did someone catch your attention?' mingyu asks, leaning a little closer. there are many unfamiliar faces at this party and he looks around, trying to judge who can possibly be his competition. 'any of the new guys?'

'mingyu, please.' you roll your eyes, not liking where this conversation is going. 'i'm not interested.'

'well they are,' mingyu motions to two guys standing not far from you both, who all look at you with equally sly smiles.

you can't believe that this is what you two are talking about after not seeing each other for a week. with an indignant huff, you hit his chest: 'how about we will discuss you choosing to converse with your old friends instead of coming over to me, when you haven't seen me in a week, hm?'

it's always been like that between you two - light teasing, flirty comments here and there. sometimes both of you act like you actually own each other in a very not friendly way, but you're not about to call him out on this, when you're enjoying this immensely. mingyu smiles at your furrowed eyebrows and leans in, cooing: 'oh, my baby wanted my attention? just say the word and i'm yours, baby.'

your breath hitches at the pet name. usually you wouldn't mind but right now it hurts to know that this is not real. 'i'm not your baby.' you say in a serious tone, making it clear that you're not joking.

mingyu's expression instantly sobers up and he stares back at you intently. there's a pause and then: 'you can be. if you want.' at your widened eyes he also adds: 'cause i want that. a lot.'

you know when mingyu is joking and when he's serious. right now he is serious and it makes your heart flutter in a very unfriendly way. 'i'd like that,' you whisper because this is all your brain can come up with right now.

and this is apparently enough, because mingyu smiles at you, open and sweet. 'then let's get out of here, baby.'

with your hand in his, he pulls you away from the party and from two weird guys who are still looking at you with sly smiles. you look at your locked hands and grin. 'yeah, let's do that, baby.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[betterthanakickintheface]

Speaking as a white person... No, people of colour and wanting to be listened to, believed, valued, consulted, and protected in the countries they live in, and are citizens of(I'm Canadian, but I feel like it's all still Very applicable) -daaaaring to be any kind of vocal about how that doesn't happen and how they are, you know, VERY UNDERSTANDABLY not fucking happy about that are NOT the problem

To feel so comfortable saying so just demonstrates how far up your own clearly racist ass you are, no one who wasn't would double down and reiterate that astoundingly wrong opinion again but with more words

And "zero concrete examples"?? You've got some effective fucking blinders on if you can say that and believe it but think that white people's love of moving the goal posts for, and pseudo-intellectualizing away concerns, struggles and very real dangers to REAL PEOPLE who just aren't you/us isn't a very real and hugely documented, and far-reaching problem you're literally just stupid

There is no other way you can look at or hear people sharing their perspective on their own fucking lives and what is important to them as a person who is *specifically* not white and is not interested - and nor should they be - in being told to shut up, keep waiting 'their turn', quiet down, that their extremely valid and NECESSARY voices and experiences get summarily dismissed as "inane" because white people just can't fucking stop deciding that every single discussion about how white people and whiteness have done and continue to do SO much damage is about them specifically and personally that they at "best" allow their discomfort to not only often ignore objective facts about how AT THE VERY LEAST the vast majority of white people and peoples have historically been Very Shitty Indeed to peoples of colour, even people they just think of as 'not as good a white as us *insert north, western, or central European nations especially here*' but also to override or bypass sympathy, empathy, compassion or even willingness to fucking listen to them about their lives to the point that we white people shut anything not complimentary to us down. We are so fucking fragile that we can't seem to fucking get that not everything is about us, for us, concern us, have to include us and it fucking shouldn't have to. Especially when all we seem interested in is having access to any and all spaces so that we can pretend that "no, everyone else is actually wrong about things they-as a group have all professed to have experienced".

Like... Seemingly one of our favourite fucking things to do is brag about supposedly having friends of different ethnicities and cultures to anyone who will listen, so why do so many of us not fucking listen to them??? Why do so many of us then also not care or believe those friends?? Try to help? Aren't they your friends, OUR friends?? Even if it's a hard pill to swallow, why do so many of us white people actively stand in the way of supporting things that will help our friends, partners, family, coworkers(not to mention children, whether connected to you as an individual or not)?? If our friends and loved ones, wider communities are helped, provided for, listened to does that not also benefit us needy white people too by extension of being in the same potentially improving society that doesn't continue to waste so much fucking time and energy on keeping entire peoples down because white people are either insecurity and hate.

White people have been the "not all men" people who get mad when sexual harassment comes up; and yeah, most people know and believe that but that(usually unnecessary) distinction ultimately is diminishing, dismissing and ignoring the point of the matter which is that the generalized statement and belief that "men do sexual harassment" is because so many people have had those kinds of unpleasant interactions or experience, often repeatedly. Even if they were not talking about you specifically, and you've never done anything misogynistic or worse THEY have enough negative experiences with other men that that statement is true to them even if you find it hard to believe.

White people do that whenever anyone says anything about how we have in the past, but also continue to treat people of colour like shit. Like yeah, no shit not all white people are feral racists, just like not all men are creeps... But I dunno if enough people are saying that "more than a few(separate, unrelated, individual) white people have said/done/legislated negative things to and against me" maybe we should fucking SHUUUUT UUUUUP and believe them?? acknowledge that even if we, as individual white people have never knowingly or intentionally been racist there is still clearly A PROBLEM because we keep being told it is a problem.

So yeah, it's very much white people that have held us all back, even the progressive ones because we cant get out of our own way. And when soooo many of us demonstrably have been unable(or unwilling) to even recognize that, let alone do anything to change it it fucking ruins lives in a very real way and if you can't see that...you yourself are part of the problem with white leftists and progressives

**as a white person, and an untagged-by-OP one at that, I totally understand if you'd prefer I remove my addition to your post, in which case I absolutely will 🖤

Every white leftist should read this

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack Chapter 1

Trigger Warnings: None

Weeks had gone by and it was nearly December. The wolves had changed in who they were. Jeongin became a tougher alpha and spent many weeks training to his full potential, but he also learned to be a better mate to Y/N. He was still making it up to her. Seungmin was still as cocky as ever and spent more time researching the dark side of werewolf lore in case they ended up in a tragic situation again. Felix was sensitive if not more sensitive after what happened and felt more protective of all the wolves so he offered to take part in more training, unlike Jisung who became glued to the side of Y/N. Jisung was far too in love with Y/N and loved to express that as he helped her around the house. Jisung made sure to always tell her she looked beautiful and made a point to kiss her scar first before her lips. Changbin was now on a course to look after werewolves as his sister Jaehee realised how useless Changbin was at saving his own omega. Changbin wasn't great but he could now stitch a minor cut. Minho on the other hand grew colder, he was hurting the most out of all of them. He still did his usual stuff but stayed out of debates and never gave his opinion. Him and Y/N were still not alright. They never spoke to each other unless it was a 'good morning' or a 'thank you'. Minho lost a lot of trust with Y/N and some of the others, but her words cut deep and he wasn't on the path of forgiveness yet. Hyunjin had gone back to his cold self and spent time in his art room, but still made time for Y/N.Chan had woken up but was bedridden as his ribs were still not healing but he was fine. He was pissed for the first twenty-four hours when he found out about Y/N's mission of death, but he got over it, knowing she was fine. He was happier when she came in to look after him, he appreciated her omegaing him but he knew it was tiring her out because she too was slowly healing.

Then there was Y/N she healed eventually but was still bandaged up. Spiritually she was damaged and Hyunjin's soul was trying to repair hers but it was too exhausting for him so she asked him to stop. Y/N wasn't as active as she had liked to be but still made a point to get up and see her wolves, despite Jisung being stuck to her. Not one of them had asked her about that night and it almost became a taboo subject. It was almost silently forbidden to be discussed. Y/N wanted to bring it up to apologise but when she did they would wave her off and tell her it's fine. Still, she knew Minho and Jeongin were the two she massively owed an apology to, but getting them alone was going to be harder. Minho was going to be her biggest challenge but she was going to start off strong by writing him a letter in case he refused to hear her apology and then giving him the flowers. By flowers, she meant the ones she picked from the garden and put into the vase after she turfed out the others. When Y/N came back into the kitchen she saw Minho prepping dinner. He was aware she walked into the kitchen and usually, he doesn't speak unless she speaks first. Y/N had to admit she felt incredibly nervous speaking to him and it was mainly because she hated hearing what she had done wrong. Y/N knew and understood her actions but hearing them made her slightly uncomfortable and defensive. "Minho?" Y/N called as she stood there awkwardly watching him. "Hmm?" Minho acknowledged her but did not look at her so Y/N decided he was comfortable with whatever she was going to say. "I wanted to say I'm sorry okay? Just hear me out and don't say anything. I only want you to listen." Y/N waited for him but he said nothing, making her roll her eyes. "I am sorry for not being grateful for your efforts. I know you worked hard to help and you did more than what I realised and I appreciate that. I guess I wanted to help and, anyway that's not the point. Forget that part. The main thing I wanted to apologise was for using your insecurity against you. I know it was low and I didn't mean it. I'm not good at apologies so I picked some flowers and wrote a letter of apology which I want you to read."

Y/N almost cursed herself at her botched apology. She completely messed it up but there was nothing she could do now except leave the letter on the table and leave him alone, which she did. Y/N left the kitchen and was about to head up to see Chan when Changbin entered the room in his medical clothes. Y/N greeted the beta with a gentle hug which Changbin was grateful for. Y/N knew Changbin wasn't really enjoying the hospital work and studying with his sister, he would rather be at the gym and then play his x-box. Changbin threw his bag down and kicked on his shoes while holding Y/N as he nuzzled her face against his, before pecking her lips. "Shall we go nurse Channie?" Y/N giggled as she kissed him again. "Let me unwind baby and then I'll come right up," Changbin whispered. Y/N nodded and headed up to see Chan who was idly staring up at the ceiling. It made Y/N laugh at how bored he looked. He was completely fed up with being stuck in the bedroom but his right leg was struggling to heal. "Felix said he might take my stitches out soon," Y/N said as she walked over to him and sat on his bed. Chan smiled up at her as he reached for her hand to hold. He loved it when she came to visit him. Admittedly, Chan sometimes got lonely since he was cooped up in the same four walls. "I want to tell you something and I don't want you to take it the wrong way baby. You know I love you." Chan said softly. "Oh no. Uh. Uh. Whatever it is Mr alpha I ain't doing it." Y/N answered as she bopped his nose like a child. "I'm being serious, baby," Chan said causing Y/N to frown. Why was he being so serious? "I know you are feeling incredibly anxious because you are feeling unclaimed and I know I haven't claimed you fully because I wanted to wait until you could trust me and your body was fully healed, but I know at the moment I'm not going to be in any position to do a while and I don't want you to feel unstable in my pack. We all love you, despite the conflicts we do. Which is why I had a chat with Jeongin and I want him to claim you." Chan stated. "No. Jeongin is fuming with me and besides I am completely fine. I'm not feeling anxious, or disconnected in any way. I want to wait. I want you, besides you could lay there." Y/N hinted with a smirk as she pulled his duvet cover down. Chan rolled his eyes nonchalantly. "Baby. Jeongin is over it, if anything it's Minho that's going to take a while. He accepts what you have said but he doesn't forgive easily. Besides Jeongin wants to ease your anxiety." Chan cooed. "I want you Channie to be the first. I don't care how long we have to wait for your leg to get better. Besides Seungmin can keep up." Y/N stated. "My love. What did I do to deserve you." Chan cooed, his heart swelling with pride. As much as he wanted to be the first his mark was already there and she needed to feel settled. "Ya, let's play doctors and nurses," Changbin shouted as he kicked the door open. "Fuck sake," Chan muttered.

Taglist for the iconic readers

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 o @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @reallychaoticwoo @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx

[avonne-writes]

Would you mind to share more HC about your DILF!Gal? Maybe adding something from Bucky's POW?

Original post

Thank you for the ask! I'm glad I'm not the only one interested in this AU 😁😁

Bucky's POV of their first meeting goes like this:

He goes to meet up with Curt and some of their other friends at a bar they like. He has had a rough week and has been feeling depressed and lonely for some time, but he’s good at hiding it. Besides, when he's with his friends, he's able to put his empty home out of his mind.

He's surprised to see a new face in the group when he arrives. It might just be the hottest man he has ever seen, even though he looks exhausted and a little sad. Bucky's first thought is that he’s someone's boyfriend, but when Curt introduces him as his colleague, Bucky smiles big and bright in joy.

Gale is interesting, smart, exciting, and it quickly turns out that he is an excellent partner for flirting banter. Bucky really enjoys talking to him. Every joke lands, and the way Gale reacts just sparks more in his mind. He hasn’t been in his element like this in a long time.

He can tell that Curt notices, because - smooth-talker that he is - he stirs the conversation in a way that allows Bucky to display his best side. Soon enough, the shadows disappear from Gale’s face, and he’s smiling and staring at Bucky with sparkling eyes.

Gale doesn’t talk about his daughter or Marge, because he doesn’t feel like his family is a good topic to discuss, so Bucky doesn’t know about his home situation at this point.

As some of their friends go home, they end up sitting next to each other. Bucky's doing his best not to get drunk because he knows he doesn’t make the best decisions then, and he has a terrible relationship track record. At this point, he knows he wants to ask Gale out, but he wants to take his time for once.

Well, Gale doesn’t though. It has been so long since he experienced anything like this that he can’t hold back. Once he and Bucky are alone and everyone else has left, he just goes for it. He's stone cold sober but the excitement of the evening makes him feel like he’s drunk.

They're burning for each other from the very first kiss. There’s no shy exploration (yet), they just start making out in the bar and continue until the last of Bucky's self-control frays away and he asks Gale to come home with him.

The drive to Bucky's place gets supremely awkward in the middle because that's when Gale mentions his daughter. It has been gnawing at him that he hasn’t said anything yet. Bucky panics for a moment, thinking that Gale’s married, but he calms down when Gale clarifies the situation.

When they arrive, Bucky double checks with Gale if he really wants to come up, because it's okay if he doesn’t, if he changed his mind. But Gale still wants to. They kiss in the car, then Bucky leads Gale up to his apartment and they spend an amazing night together.

[theresthesnitch]

As I have previously mentioned, I'm dedicating November to writing my Wolfstar Royal Arranged Marriage AU. It's making slow progress. Would you like a snippet? Of course you would.

Warning: this fic features Trans Remus, who is not out to anyone at the beginning. In this snippet, James and Sirius discuss Sirius's future spouse using feminine terms. Yes, this is Remus, but they don't know any better yet.

~*~

“So, wedding day jitters? What do you need? Warm socks for your feet? Have you met your lovely bride?”

“I’m not permitted to meet her,” Sirius says. “Apparently, it’s in case I run away first.” 

James walks back over, standing right next to Sirius and fixing him with knowing eyes. “Do you want to run away anyway?” 

“I can’t,” Sirius says. He looks toward James, a small, sad lift to his lips. “I have to have a queen to be the king, and my people need me.” 

James shakes his head. “You know I don’t get it, mate. Why does it have to be a woman? You would be much happier married to a man, and a happy king is a happy kingdom.” 

Sirius scoffs, clicking his tongue as he looks back in the mirror. “You think my happiness is part of the equation at all? Trust me, it’s not. No, most important is heirs, and a gay king married to a man can't make heirs, no matter how much the people may accept that I can love who I love.”

“It's shit,” James says. 

Sirius smiles at him. “It is. But no one ever said being king wasn't shit.” Sirius looks back at himself in the mirror. 

“Should come with some perks, though,” James says. “Like getting to decide who you love.” 

“There are perks! Not that one, of course. But there are definite perks.” Sirius turns around, facing James fully. “It’s fine, James. Royal marriages aren't about love. That was never really in the stars for me.”

James wrinkles his nose. “I guess you could always take after your father and have a consort or two to get you through your very heterosexual marriage.” 

Sirius grimaces. “I’d at least have the decency not to snuff it in his bed.” 

James cackles, clutching his chest. “That is never going to be not funny to me. Do you know if he died like while he was in him? It would be awful for what's his name but–” 

“Evan,” Sirius supplies. “And yes, I do know, and no, I do not want to talk about it.” 

James’s face lights up. “Oh, Circe’s hairy snatch, he was, wasn't he? Your dad was porking his little bed warmer when he kicked it. Please say yes; I need to know. My life will be incomplete otherwise. I mean, may his legacy last an eternity and all that, but I absolutely 

Sirius runs a hand over his face, trying to stifle his laughter. He shouldn't be laughing, but it is just so ridiculous. “No, no, he wasn’t.” Sirius snort-laughs again. “It’s worse. If Evan’s screams are anything to go by, Father was… being porked.” James immediately laughs, doubling over and holding his stomach, and Sirius can’t help but laugh with him. “I can’t believe you made me say that.” 

“I can’t believe it happened! Gods, imagine that. Old King Orion, being fucked by a twink.” That sets James off on another round of laughing. “I’m never going to get over this.” 

“I’m never going to get over the fact that I know this.” Sirius says. He groans. “Evan was wailing it in the hallway. Apparently it was… a while before he noticed.” 

James laughs again, this time falling on the ground. “This might be the best day of my life.” 

Sirius suddenly sobers. “Can’t say the same, honestly.”

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

New story idea: Teenage Yuuri

Writing on one project frequently results in ideas for side projects when the characters' backstory develops.

This particular idea has been brewing in me for quite a while now, but gained momentum now that I'm writing on my post-canon story In Love and War again.

I'm going to write a story about teenage Yuuri.

There's so much to unpack here which the anime only shows in short flashbacks or hides in subtext. Some of these key aspects I've discussed extensively in my metas and hinted at in my novelisation, but this story will become more like an in-depth study of young Yuuri, including:

how his obsession with Viktor shaped his path as a skater

friendship

growing up as a queer kid in a rather heteronormative environment (Kyushu is rather rural, hence less diversity)

being bullied for his obsession with Viktor as well as for being a little bit chubby (I will approach that subject sensitively)

early signs of his aceness and how that sets him apart from other Viktor fans like Yuuko or Minako (Yuuri is ace-coded, I wrote several long-ass analyses about that, see my metas, and I will make use of the split attraction model)

his reasons for leaving Hasetsu and training abroad

My teenage Yuuri project will be part of my "A dream too large to bear alone"-universe, which means that every take I use will be directly supported by canon and be backed by the source material or be a logical extention thereof as far as that's possible based on the little backstory the anime provides and the personality of adult Yuuri. Unlike Vitya's backstory (about which I've been unsure because I don't want it to be associated with the movie), I'm really looking forward to posting this story once it's done. I don't think such a story already exists and it probably won't be the kind of story that will attract many readers due to the lack of popular headcanons, which I believe is even more reason to write it.

(This is definitely going to be a shorter project (50k), planned for the first half of 2025.)

Are you interested in reading that? Is there anything in particular you would love to see my take on regarding that part of Yuuri's life?

[basmala260]

The basic dynamics of Hirano and Kagiura's relationship

First of all, I don't like comparing the two because they both fall into the spectrum of ideal romance and the other into complicated romance, But just to make things clear, Sasaki To Miyano is more genuine and romantic while Hirano To Kagiura is more on the complicated side discuss identity crisis where hirano is dealing with his self issues and Kagiura deals with his concept of love Unlike Sasamiya where everything was perfect, friendship, admiration, feelings, time to give a proper answer, mutual feelings

But I will use this in some paradoxes between natural and complex relationships to illustrate some points, fair enough

1. Kagiura's personality is the fastest to develop in this relationship. He just loves his roommate, trying to make sure of his feelings, but thanks to his friend's support, he determined his proper definition of love. Of course, a large part of him is inclined towards his parents' relationship* and as I mentioned before His desire to feel Hirano's feelings for him turned into a physical desire because he couldn't get the look he wanted from Hirano's eyes.

* With that said, I want to touch on this point since this is one of the ways the manga shows how childish Kagiura is, it's something where you ask a child what they want to do when they grow up and they'll tell you they want to be like their mom or dad

I actually asked one of the kids in the family a couple of days ago what she wanted her partner to be like when she grew up, and her response was simple "a kind and a caring person." (You can pull any child near you and they will give you the same answer).

Isn't that exactly what Kagi loves about Hirano? (I mean I know this is a natural trait of the person you love but usually it is not only this, I hope this makes sense) What I'm trying to explain here is how Kagiura is always referred to as a child

Not only that, but Hirano's rejection of him activated the stubborn (and seemingly childish) feeling inside him. Hirano had already rejected him twice (9 - 23.5) But he was vehemently denying it, confident that Hirano would "REALIZE HIS FEELINS" and not "give up." (Because I used to see a lot of people saying that Kagiura is forcing Hirano)

As I mentioned before, this is blind optimism.

Unlike Sasaki, who didn't think he had much hope, and in the time he gave Miyano to think, he was happy that Miyano was thinking of him and didn't want anything else, and even if he had rejected him I'm sure everything would have stayed the same and he wouldn't ask Miya to think again at any chance He was really grateful to have Miano in his life, just it

2. Move to Hirano who The one on his side of the relationship is much slower and also late, since this was the first time he experienced something like this, he had no one to confess to, he had no one to love, and he had never been in a relationship before, Hirano struggles to define and understand love itself, He is not looking for a clear concept, he is trying to find a concept

He had never thought about it before, and it seemed to him that everything he did to Kagiura, from pampering and loving, was a natural act, as he was searching for a sense of responsibility throughout the story.

He was the only child of his parents, intellectually intelligent, but socially stupid, qualities that formed fertile ground for the desire to feel responsible.

We can see how he is a supporting character in the main manga like Hanazawa, but unlike Hanazawa who was driven by anxiety, Hirano was driven by responsibility.

Every time Kagiura gets close to Hirano physically and Hirano doesn't move, it's not that Hirano wants Kagiura to get closer, it's not that Hirano trusts Kagiura not to get closer, but it's already made clear that Hirano doesn't mind Kagiura touching him, it's just that he doesn't understand what this should mean, it's not that he doesn't want to or that he wants to, he just stands helpless not understanding (The thing is, in chapter 20, he was just surprised, but he wasn't bothered by it)

Unlike Sasaki and Miyano, there was a boundary and a line between the contact between them.

The most likely idea for me is that Hirano is slow to understand his feelings because he is trying to understand Kagiura and has never tried to understand himself.

[loverslodge]

the date

You were nervous to say the least. The date was supposed to start at 10 am but you got here at 9:30 am. You had chosen your favourite cafe because it made things easier. Just in case they did decide to ditch you, at least you could buy yourself your regular and go back home.

You were dressed in your favourite cherry colored plain sundress and white shoes. You carried a small bag with you that carried your wallet, phone, lip balm and water bottle. Your hair was half up and your stray hair had started falling out framing your face.

You sat in your booth and waited. You had brought a book with you but who were you kidding? You weren't going to read anything. You kept on glancing at the door. You've never been this nervous about a date before. But also, this wasn't exactly a real date, was it?

The door opened and two tall large figures walked in with flowers in their hands. They were in a deep argument or was it a discussion? They let their conversation go and looked around. You tentatively got up from the booth which caught their attention and they bounded towards you like happy puppies.

You weren't just starstruck. You were just… nobody could explain. Your breath hitched a little and your heart skipped its beats and your stomach somersaulted. Your cheeks were tinted with pink and it was not just your makeup.

They both held out their hand to give you flowers. You smiled. They were clearly trying to be competitive. You chuckled a little and took both the flowers with both of your hands, deeming the competition null. “Thank you. I love roses, especially pinks and reds. I love these.”

Bucky and Steve were awestruck. You were even prettier in person. Your smile alluring and your chuckle endearing. And your voice? Sounded like the warm sun in spring.

They both had walked from different directions to get to the cafe. They both saw you from the cafe window. You looked so… angelic. They noticed your nervous tick of chewing your lower lip. Your lips looked so kissable. They also saw how you kept on glancing at the door. They did not want to make you wait any longer so they walked to the entrance at the same time.

“Bucky?” “Steve?”

Clearly, none of them had thought that the other would have accepted.

“What are you doing here?” Steve was the first one to break the silence.

“Me? What are you doing here?” Bucky wasn't going to back down easily.

“I'm here to… go… get coffee,” Steve stuttered.

“Weird. I didn't know you could get coffee with flowers in your hand.” Bucky quirked up his eyebrows. They were caught, there was no reason to lie.

“Uh…”

“Give it up, punk. You can't lie to save your own life. You're here to see the girl, aren't you? The email girl?”

“Yeah. you too?” Steve pointed at Bucky’s hand full of flowers.

“Yeah. her idea, whatever you call it, sounded, i don't know, interesting. Wanted to give it a shot.” Bucky shrugged.

“Yeah, it's no string attached, no expectations. It's liberating in a way.” Steve put his thoughts out and Bucky nodded to agree.

They both entered the cafe together, though a little apprehensive about the other being there. When you stood up so they could find you, they had to make sure they weren't dreaming. You weren't just angelic, you were… you looked beautiful. Especially in that floral sundress.

When Steve stepped forward to reach you, Bucky jumped up too. It had become a competition, unknowingly. But when you accepted their flowers at the same time, their heart thrummed in a rhythm. The moment they heard your voice, they were floored. Such a sweet voice, it was like a melody to them. And when they learnt that they picked the perfect flowers for you, they were on cloud nine seeing you smile at the flowers.

You guided them to sit on the opposite booth and Bucky slid in first, making Steve sit in the aisle. You did something unexpected after that. You took a rose from Steve’s side and gave it to Bucky and you took a rose from Bucky’s side and gave it to Steve. They were confused but in awe.

“Well, you both got me flowers and you both seemed… competitive, I thought it would be fair for me to give you each a rose from the other’s side. If I had known we were doing flowers, I would've bought some for you too.” You nestled the roses neatly in your bag so as to not crush them.

“I- no, the flowers just popped in my head and thought it was a gentlemanly thing to do.” Steve initiated the conversation. “And thank you for the rose.” His cheeks were flushed.

“Why would you give us the flowers though?” Bucky got curious about your comment.

“Oh! Well, you should get flowers too. It's not a rule for a woman to not get flowers for a man, is it?” You tilted your head in question.

“No, no it's not.” Bucky smirked. You were fantastic.

“So, umm, before we begin, I do have to say something. I don't mind doing this with both of you. I don't want to choose.” You fiddled with your fingers. “If any of you is uncomfortable with it, you both can pick who should stay. I dont- i wont.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other. They had never thought about it. Sharing a date. They did share a few common traits they liked in women but sharing never crossed their mind. They turned their heads back to you.

“I don't want to come between two best friends again so if you decide that nobody wants this, it's okay as well. It was an email, not a contractual binding. You still have time to walk away.” you take in a deep breath.

“Again?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. He wanted to know more about that aspect of your story.

“It's- maybe some other time. Not right now.” You shuffled in your seat. “Talk it out, the two of you. I'll wait here.”

Bucky signaled Steve to stand up and they excused themselves. They stood outside the cafe in a way where they could see you. For a few minutes, all they could do was look at you.

There was something else about you, a sort of sadness that popped the moment they walked out of the cafe. You were rubbing your face with your hand as if you were worn out and your downcast eyes made their collective hearts clench.

“What do you say, Steve?” Bucky wanted to know what Steve thought. Surprisingly, it didn't cross Bucky’s mind that he would be jealous. Would he be?

“She's right. We cannot ask her to choose. She did email us individually.” Steve wasn't looking at Bucky. His eyes kept going back to you.

“So, you will be okay if I am on this date as well?” Bucky wasn't going to talk in circles. The time was of the essence.

“What?” Steve turned to Bucky. As well? What did Bucky mean? Did he mean all three of them go out together?

“You know, she did say she wouldn't mind the two of us together with her.” Bucky shrugged, trying to act casual but he was terrified. What is Steve said no? Will this be the last time he sees you? Will he have the heart to give you up? This isn't even about a real date! All this tension over a fake one?!

“Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't you-” But Bucky cut Steve off.

“Listen, this isn't even a real date. Why are we thinking so much? We did say we came here for no strings and no expectations. Why not just tell her that it's the two of us? What could possibly go wrong?”

“You're right. We're overthinking this. Let's tell her it's us and her. A three person couple.” Steve squared up and began his walk to the cafe door.

“It's called a throuple, you doof.” Bucky followed him.

You weren't paying attention. You suddenly had a minor panic attack which you had managed to settle. You shouldn't be doing this. This desperate attempt to make a perfect date. This isn't even your idea of a perfect date but you can't just invite strangers to your place for movies and dinner now, can you?

You were about to break down in a cafe in front of two of your celebrity crushes. But this overthinking, this maddening need to have just one sliver of happiness was taking over your thoughts of running away. Though, without your knowledge, few tears did escape your eyes.

“Are you okay? Why are you crying?” A very concerned voice made your head jolt up to see two pairs of gorgeous blue eyes looking at you in worry. When had they come back and sat down?

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, you are crying.” Bucky reached down to give you a paper napkin.

“Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't realize.” You wiped your face and looked back up with a smile. “So, what was the decision? Is it one, two or none?”

“We just want your consent over this too. We think that it could be the two of us with you. Are you okay with that?” Steve approached you very politely with the question. Bucky would have been more brash about it.

“That's great! Yeah, I wouldn't mind as long as the two of you are okay.” You nodded enthusiastically with a smile. “Oh but what about the money? Would you be splitting it? I will wire transfer you.”

“Angel, we don't need your money. Keep it. Seriously. We make enough money. Wejust want to enjoy today. Does that sound good?” Bucky tilted his head. You did look angelic, even with tear-stained eyes.

You nodded. “Yes. it does. Now, let's go. We're wasting precious time.”

You got up and grabbed your bag. The two men followed you like puppies.

“So, first things first. Here's the list of places I wanted to go to around the city for this date. I printed it out so it'll be easier. Also I do have a few requests but if any of you have any qualms about it, say the word and I will not bring it up again.”

“Lay it on us, Angel.” Steve’s heart fluttered seeing you take a lead like this.

“Ok, so the requests are as follows. But first. Do you guys know acting? Or do you know how to act? Even a tiny bit?”

“Uh, sure? I mean we do go for undercover missions.” Bucky was confused by your question.

“Oh cool. Maybe this could work. Ok, so first, can we pretend that this is not a first date and this is a date people go to when they're in a relationship? The one where there is no awkwardness.” You look at the two of them. “I'm sorry. This is already too much. Let's just finish this. I don't want to make you do something you both don't want to do.”

You start walking in the direction of your next destination. Bucky and Steve follow you and they each hold your hand to stop you.

“It's not too much. Really. Tell us more of your requests.” Steve rubbed his thumb on your thumb, trying to calm the situation. You exhale loudly.

“Ok. Well, that was the first request. The other is… Do you know how the hero looks at the heroine in the movies when he falls in love with her?” Both the men quirked up their eyebrows. “You know, all soft heart eyes and just looking at her as if she's the only thing that matters?”

They quizzingly looked at you. “Oh for the love of… Really? All these back on earth and you guys haven't watched a rom-com? Never mind. I'll educate you on that some other day. But for now,” You pointed at a very loved up couple across the street. “You see them, look at the way he’s looking at her. That's how I want you both to look at me. I promise I'll tell you the reason soon.”

Both men looked at each other and nodded. “Ok, anything else?”

“Oh! This is not a request but this is me consenting the two of you that since we're pretending this is not an awkward first date, you can touch me however you like. Showing affection. If I do feel uncomfortable, I'll tell you, okay?”

“Okay.” “okay.” A verbal agreement was sealed.

Your first stop was the museum. You liked art. You couldn't interpret or understand all of it but you loved looking at them. Steve was excited about it and Bucky kept calling him a dork which made you laugh.

You had to cross the road and your hands automatically seeked theirs. You locked your hands to theirs and crossed the road. It had been a habit of yours since you had gotten in an accident while crossing the road at the age of 10.

The moment you locked your hands with them, a warm sensation reached their hearts. You were in front of them, the way you held their hands was as if you were protecting them. You made sure to cross safely and when crossed, you looked at them making sure they were ok.

“Were all okay? Good. let's go. Here we are! At the museum.”

…………………..

“This is so boring! Can we really not do anything else? You both are dorking over flowers.” Bucky was very bored. He liked art, sure, but he wasn't that into it. He found looking at things for hours very boring.

“These aren't just any flowers, James. These are Monet.” You turn to him and drag him back to you and Steve.

“Bucky. Call me Bucky, Angel. Seriously, I will really like it if you call me Bucky.” His hand reached for yours and intertwined it. He gave you the most adorable puppy dog eyes and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Ok, Bucky, stay still. Just a few more minutes and then we will go for lunch. I'm actually getting very hungry.” You pulled him by the hand closer so his chest was brushing against your back.

“Let's go then. Wouldn't want our Angel to go hungry.” Steve looked at you and smiled. He grabbed your other hand.

“Oh but don't you want to look at the next exhibit? I thought you were excited about that one?” You tried to pull him towards that exhibit.

He pulled you back and your front bumped to his chest. “Nope. you wanted to see Monet and we did. I really enjoyed it. I never thought of seeing Monet the way you did. Now let's get food for us.”

“Oh no no. we're not doing that. A date should be for two people. We’re seeing that exhibit and then we're getting food. Now come on.” You drag both of them to Steve’s most awaited exhibit. Bucky whined in your ear but you giggled and gave him a light jab.

Unknown to you, Steve couldn't keep his eyes off of you. The way you got excited about an art piece or the way you ranted about an exhibit because you knew the history of it. His heart surely skipped a beat when you didn't let go of his hand the rest of the time all three of you were seeing the art.

He was also surprised how he was feeling warm rather than jealous when he saw Bucky flirt with you. He had never felt this way, at least for you. You were just a no strings attachment but Steve seems to have formed some strings and he was willing to pull them to stay in this moment with you.

Once Steve had his fill of the museum, all three of you walked out hand in hand. You asked them if they liked Indian food and they said yes so you dragged them to the nearest location of one of your favourite Indian restaurants.

After you ordered lunch and settled in the seats, Bucky couldn't stop his curiosity and finally asked the question he's been wanting to ask.

“So, I have to ask. Why did you send the email?”

“Oh! Uh…” You were trying to gather your scrambling thoughts. What version do you want to tell them? The desperate one or the short one?

“Bucky, that's rude. You can't just ask her something like this. She said she'll tell us when she's ready.” Steve saw you flush against the seat.

“Oh it's no issue really. I was going to say anyway so might as well. I just thought saving it for the end would make this better but lets get it out of the way.”

Unknowingly, Steve and Bucky shifted to the edge of their seats. You smoothened your sundress on your lap to find the beginning.

“My love life has never been about me. It should've been but it never was. My first boyfriend actually started talking to me because he liked my friend, even though he asked me out because he liked me for the way I was. That relationship lasted exactly six months before I pulled the plug on it because I just never felt that way about him. I thought having a boyfriend would mean I would like him but I didn't. Not romantically.

That's how my series of unfortunate relationships started. One was controlling, one was a flirt, one was angry all the time, one was a stalker and last one was, well, a ghoster.

But all these relationships had one thing in common and that was me trying to mold myself into that. Into a person they wanted me to become. I felt, I don't know, empty inside when I was with them. The people I liked, they never liked me back. They just used my affections for them and when done, dusted me off like I was just dirt.”

You took a large gulp of water from your bottle. Steve and Bucky were listening to you intently. Before you could say anything else, your food arrived and the conversation ended there. Both of them knew there was more but they didn't push it, for now.

The sadness in your eyes was too evident. They had wanted to hug you, hold you and tell you it's okay but it was neither the place nor the time.

Once the lunch was done, you brought out the list and your eyes sparkled. The next stop was a bookstore.

………………………….

“Don't you think that's too much?” Steve looked at the pile that was forming on Bucky’s hand.

“You can never have too much, Steve.” You pass him by to look at the book behind him.

Steve turned around to see your arms empty. “And you, Miss Bad-Influence-on-Bucky. Where is your pile?”

You look at both of them sheepishly. “Well, I don't have a budget to buy new books. I'm just looking.”

“And by looking you mean wistfully sighing at every other book then yes, you're just looking.” Bucky taunted playfully. Then he gave you an exciting smile. “I'll buy books for you. Pick all you like.”

“No! Are you crazy? No no, you don't have to. I-” You were worried this gesture would go straight to your heart.

“No arguments. Come on. Lets pick. I'll hold your books for you. Pick whichever you like. And then, maybe, you'll help Bucky sort through his pile?” Steve gave you the sweetest puppy smile. You swore you floored there and then.

You started picking all the romance books you had your eyes on. You told them that you will sort again later. While Bucky kept on piling onto his arms any book he finds, you were very conscious about making sure you're not troubling Steve. But that didn't stop you from piling up.

Bucky watched you buzz from one shelf to another. You looked so excited! Talked so much about why you were picking the book you picked. The spark in your eyes went straight to Bucky’s heart.

Bucky kept his eyes on you. He gave you full freedom to manage his book pile. While you brutally shortened your own pile, he loved to see a soft ruthlessness in you. You kept on murmuring about why not this book or why not that.

When you were helping him with his pile, he chose to stand close to you. You actually went through an effort to know what his preferences were. You also asked if he would read ‘fairy smut’ and then went to explain what it was to the two of them with a deep blush on your cheeks.

Bucky saw you and Steve together, talking, giggling, sometimes laughing at his expense but he did not mind at all. He loved seeing the two of you together, with him. You always made sure that the other isn't missing out. His heart always tugged at you when you did that.

“Maybe I should read that fairy smut you were talking about.” Bucky announced haughtily. He wanted to know what was making you blush so much.

“Uh, I wouldn't mind recommending but you like old school fantasy. Are you sure you want to try them?” You didn't want to throw him into the deep end.

“Yeah. I wanna know what you are blushing so much about.” Bucky picked up a smut heavy book. “This one, right? I'll take this.”

You snatched the book from his hand and shook your head. That one was the deep end. You look around the shelf and come across the one you thought would be great to subtly guide him in this genre. You handed him the book and he put it on his sorted pile.

His little comment about wanting to know what made you blush made your heartbeat rise. These are the exact reactions you're supposed to get when you're on a date. But then a thudding twinge of sadness poked the bubble. A lump formed in your throat again.

This wasn't real. None of this was. You snapped out before it got too deep. But one look at the men and your heart betrayed you again. You knew you were going to cry yourself to sleep for the next few nights.

Steve pulled you and Bucky out of the bookstore before both you bought the rest of the store. You and Bucky giggled at Steve’s stern face when he put his foot down about not buying more than five books. He stopped Bucky from buying more than six books but he bought you at least eight, which was a lot more than you had actually thought.

Steve carried your book-filled bag in his hand and Bucky held his own, although Bucky wanted to hold your bag too.

You were standing on the sidewalk with them, cruising through the list, trying to narrow down to one more place before dinner and then goodbyes. You chose a park. It was a small park, not too crowded and very close to where you lived. You didn't need to tell them that.

While you were busy, something in Steve and Bucky told them that they needed to talk to each other but before they could, you swooped in with your idea of relaxing in the park.

Their hands involuntarily went for yours, keeping you between them and all three of you started walking to the park, occasionally joking and laughing at each other’s expense.

…………………

“I should've worn jeans. I don't know how to sit on the grass in a dress.”

Just a slight complaint and the two men removed their jackets. Bucky stood behind you and tied his jacket to your waist, covering your back. Steve stood in front of you and tied his jacket to your waist, covering your front. So now you were all jacket skirted and comfortable.

Both Steve and Bucky observed how tiny you looked between them. Sure, your height came up to their upper chests but you still looked very tiny, something worth protecting and staying.

They kept on sharing looks with each other. They both had things to say about you but they also didn't want to leave you alone. Their brain had, by now, completely accepted this to be the real first date.

The park was pleasant and so was the weather. You sat comfortably with the two men who told you stories about their good old days. You laughed, smiled and commented on their stories. But the twinge in your heart kept on reminding you that this isn't real.

There was occasional hand touching, hand holding and kisses on cheeks and foreheads. There was also leaning on each other to get comfortable and there was no issue in minding the proximity.

If there was a third person looking at the scene, they would surely say that the three of you looked very cozy. Too cozy for being in public. Someone’s hand was on someone’s waist, someone’s hand was on someone’s thigh and someone was all cuddled between the other two someones.

The evening passed by and it was finally time for dinner. You, being the smarter of the three, had made a reservation to a nearby restaurant that also overlooked the water and the bridge. You wanted the ending to be scenic.

Ordering what each of you were in the mood for, a silence spread over, again. But this time it was Steve who asked you a question.

“If you don't mind telling us, why just one date email? We never reached that part of our discussion.”

“Oh yeah. I'm sorry it completely slipped my mind.” You gulped down water and looked at them. It made you chuckle how eager they looked to get new information.

“Well, as I told you about my sad and pathetic love life, I started seeking more. Of course I can blame my love for romance books and movies but that's just not it. These unrealistic expectations that people talk about, I have witnessed them, in my own home.

My many cousins, who are married to their lovely partners, I see them. I have seen their love. They dont need to say ‘i love you’ or ‘you are fucking annoying but i will do this for you because i love you’. They show, they act on it. Our family isn't big on PDA but the occasional hand holding, hugging, even annoying on purpose screamed love.

These are the types of things I have read in books as well. So how are these unrealistic? Also, never in any of my past relationships have any of my friends told me that my boyfriend looks at me like I am the only person in the room. I can understand one or two but every single one of them?

I pretended all these years that it didn't matter. But it does. I'm not- I don't know how to say things so I show, say something else instead of what i actually mean and many times it's not that hard to ‘decode’. The last guy I was with said he didn't want a complicated relationship because I asked him to communicate better.”

You took a deep breath. This was turning into a rant. You didn't want that. You never wanted to show your sad and pathetic side to them.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rant. I didn't even answer your question.”

“Angel, it's okay. You can share anything with us. Go on. We know you have a lot to say.” Bucky put his hand on yours and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb to calm you.

“No- well, at least let me tell you why the email. So, i was tipsy and because i never got to experience the ‘in-love’ part of the couple, i thought maybe a famous person could put up an act for the day and i can get my fill. Then I can cry about my life again but I will still have this memory.” You shrugged and hearing you answering it very nonchalantly, their eyes widened.

“So, you are prepared to get your heart broken at the end of the day?” Steve was intrigued by your ideology.

“Yes. I mean, that is one of the reasons why I sent emails to actors. They can act and at the end of the day, the payment would have made everything settle in place.”

“But we're not actors.” Bucky sounded jealous. A tinge. Somehow he had pictured you, an angel, their angel, with some random man who wasn't even going to treat you right, even for the sake of a fake date. He hated that.

“Yes, well, like I said, I was tipsy. I sent emails to every guy I found hot.”

Before they could get a word out, the food arrived, putting a comma to the discussion. Steve and Bucky were seeing green. They didn't like the thought of you with someone else.

“So we’re just some lucky winners?” Steve wasn't very good at concealing his jealousy.

You flinched a little with Steve’s tone and Bucky put his hand on Steve’s thigh to calm him.

“No. This was not a competition. This was a ridiculous request by a drunken lonely woman who has never experienced love.” Your voice raised a little.

“Sure it wasn't a competition.” Steve’s sarcasm burnt you. “You did say yes to both of us when you had the chance to pick one. But no, you wanted us to fight over you, didnt you? This is the type of love you were looking for? A broken one?”

Steve’s words left scaring marks on your heart. He was right, wasn't he? You don't even know what love is while this man had been in love for a century with the same woman. He knew what love was and you didn't, you were just seeking a way to fulfill your dumb fantasies, which you did. You got to go out with two hottest men.

Tears had blurred your vision when you stood and walked out of the place without even a glance. You knew this would happen. The night was going to end in tears anyway. Why wait for dessert? You stumbled down the restaurant deck and wiped your cheeks forcefully. You were not going to cry in public. You started your ten minute walk home. A safe space.

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 3

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I wanna say this real quick before this gets any deeper. This fic was my first, so I didn't know a whole lot about Batman and the Batfam? I'm not gonna change anything about it cuz growth and progress and shit like that (also I cringe looking at these first few chapters...) but I know a lot more about the DC verse now and I know some of this to be wildly inaccurate or OOC. I'm not apologizing. I just thought you should know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galaxies on the brain, Dick wallows in the pain

Sore.

That's all Tim could feel. Sore and tired and heavy and cold. He could feel warm hands (weren't they supposed to be cold?) Holding him by the shoulders and knees. Something soft meets his back and he falls deeper into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim wakes up with a groan. His arm ached like he'd hung by Dick's trapeze for too long, his face felt itchy, and every time he took a breath his chest burned. His eyelids felt like lead and his head filled with cotton, he absently wondered what day he was on of no sleep when he'd finally collapsed.

As his thoughts swam the contents of the previous night (nights? How long was he asleep for?) Started to bubble to the surface of his consciousness. The stakeout, the full-bodied chill and his missing bug leading to the warehouse, sounds of gunshots and a closeup with a steel grey roof. After that, things get fuzzier. He remembered… Green, and white hair? Then an image of a galaxy came to him and he wondered if maybe he really had died.

Something to his right rustled and he struggled to pry open an eye enough to see. Dick was slumped in a chair next to his bed (when did he get to a bed?) reading over what seemed to be police reports. Tim tried to speak but when he went for air he came up in a coughing fit.

Dick's head snapped to attention as his little brother, now awake, tried to hack up what was left of his lung.

"Hey! Hey, Tim, you're okay. You're in the medbay in the Batcave. Calm down and try not to breathe too deeply okay?" Dick soothed as he reached for the glass of water with a straw Alfred had left for when Tim woke up.

As he watched his little brother get his breathing under control and take a small sip from the cup offered Dick felt his nerves settle for the first time that night. His brother was awake. Awake meant alive. Hurt, but alive. He settled back into his chair and shook out a relieved sigh.

"What are you doing here?" Even with the water Tim's voice sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks.

"I said I'd be in Gotham for the weekend, didn't I? I got the call from your comm and picked you up from the warehouse district."

"Call?" Tim's voice cracked with confusion. "I don't remember sending a distress signal…" He trailed off as another hacking cough wracked through his frame. Dick held out the glass again and Tim gratefully took a longer drink.

"… What do you remember from last night?" Dick asked tentatively.

"I remember… the stakeout, my tracker going missing and following the signal to a warehouse by the docks…" Tim gasped, then cringed as the motion sent a jolt of pain down his front.

"I remember the thieves," he ground out. "I'd found their base of operations… but I was sloppy, I didn't notice one of the goons come up behind me until I'd already knocked him over. Then shit hit the fan… I remember making it out, and running, then I guess I got shot? It gets fuzzy from there…" He huffs, shaking the flashing images of white hair and swirling nebulas clear from his sleep addled mind.

He looks over to see Dick with a serious yet contemplative expression, looking down at the bedrest between them and nothing at all.

Curious and weary, Tim mutters a raspy "Why? Something happen?"

Dick seems to mull something over before shaking his head and looking up with a tired smile.

"Nothing serious enough to discuss right now. Why don't you get some more sleep Timmy? God knows you could use it."

Tim wanted to protest, he really did! But the sound of the heart monitor and that strangely familiar buzzing was already restuffing his head with cotton and his eyelids were getting heavier. That feeling of calm and safe washed over him again, sleep quickly following it. He nodded sluggishly and dove back into dreamland with his last thought ringing in his head; 'huh, the buzz sounds more like a purr now.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was not freaking out. He wasn't! He was completely fine with being in the freaking Batcave because he was a hero too. Totally normal.

The sound that wanted to escape his throat was not a squeal. Anyone that told you it was is a liar. 

As he floated through the stalactites (stalagmites? He slept through that particular science class.) He had to physically stop himself from dropping his invisibility and glowing with the force of a neutron star. He was in the Batcave! Tucker and Sam would totally freak over this when he told them. Tucker would have an aneurysm over half the tech he'd seen since getting here (not that he wouldn't already have an aneurysm over him not checking in over the last three days) and Sam would have a field day with the aesthetic of the place. He didn't dare stray too far from his—(not his, no, that's not right) the vigilante he's protecting, which was, in fact, Timothy Drake-Wayne??

He has so many questions.

Like, why was Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprise, going around at night as Red Robin?? Not that he thinks it's wrong, or anything. Danny just feels like that's a lot of stress to have on a teenager's shoulders.

He knows from experience.

The fact that he's also seen Nightwing out of costume, as well as Robin, Orphan, and spoiler with their masks off has Danny feeling like he's seen them practically naked. Because, come on, Damian Wayne was Robin, Orphan was Cassandra Wayne, and Dick Grayson was Nightwing? He'd basically just learned Gotham's richest socialite family all lived double lives as superheroes! If he wasn't already fangirling about being in the Batcave ('the freaking Batcave, ancients end him!') he'd be rolling in his grave laughing and crying from the irony.

Kicking off the nearest stalagmite (stalactite? Still no clue) he floats back down to hover just above the main floor housing the Bat Computer (!!!) with Dick Grayson talking to someone on the other end.

"-have listened to him when he first brought it up a week ago, now he's in a hospital bed! Barbara what am I going to do, I feel like this is all my fault." He watched as Dick (Nightwing? Mr. Grayson?) slumped down in his seat and put his face in his hands. That faraway stare listlessly gazing at the keyboard through slits in his fingers.

Before he could startle the man out of his train of thought the woman from the other end of the call—Barbara, he remembered—spoke up.

"You know you can't blame yourself too badly for that, Dick. While the ribbing may have gone a bit further than you'd have liked, you couldn't have been able to save Tim from getting shot. You were still at least an hour outside the city limits when Tim went to follow the lead his… friend gave him." The way she said 'friend' told Danny she still didn't quite believe in his existence yet, and he was okay with that. As long as Red Robin—Tim?—knew he was there to help, he could let the other members of the batclan think he wasn't real.

A loud groan escapes the older man as he leans back to look at the ceiling of the cave.

"I know Babs," he bemoans, "But I still can't get those thoughts out of my head!" He reached up to message his temples with one hand as silence fills the cave. This time Danny is able to help his friends(?) brothers' turmoil by blowing a bit of frost out and directing it to the back of Dick's hand.

Startled, Dick's head whips around to either side of him, spinning the chair around to face away from the bat computer with a wary gaze before slowly rotating back. He stared at his hand, the one that had previously been nursing his headache and the one that had been covered in frost.

At least, he thought it was.

Dick recalls when Alfred had first pulled off Tim's first aid bandages. He hadn't even changed out of his gear, needing to see the extent of the damage to his little brother, only to watch as green tinged blue ice was revealed to be keeping him together. The ice kept the hole from tearing and bacteria from entering his punctured lung. Alfred shared a look with Dick, confirming that he wasn't the only one seeing the strange ice. As they tried to touch the ice though -get a sample for analysis- it, along with the glove being used as a tourniquet, sublimated away to mist. Leaving the now gaping wound in his brother's side and arm to weep blood, slow and thick.

He left for the showers after that. Better to let a professional patch his brother up than someone with shaking hands and blurry vision.

"Do you think Tim's imaginary friend is a meta?" The words escaped Dick's lips before he'd realized he'd thought them. Refocusing as he heard Babs hum pensively.

"With what you've told me about the magic ice that sealed Tim's wounds, it's possible," she mused. The soft tapping if a keyboard registered on the mic as she pulled something up

"The thing is though, there aren't any registered or rumoured metas with an ice-like powerset in or around Gotham. If there were, we'd be seeing more of them somewhere, ice power sets tend to be flashier." More tapping, then a pained huff came through the speakers.

"It doesn't help that I can't seem to restore Tim's footage from after he fell off the roof," she grumbles.

"What do you mean 'can't restore it'? Even with his mask torn the way it was, the cameras in the lenses should've been working fine."

"That's the thing though! His mask only cut after he fell, it was working perfectly up till that point, then this static whine comes on over the audio and the video glitches out before cutting to static until you find him. It wasn't a signal jammer or EMP, both would do damage to more than just his camera, and a jammer would leave a trace of interference." Her groan echoes through the cave, bringing a small smile to Dick's face as she continues.

"The comm too, if something had tampered with it I'd be able to tell! And yet there's no evidence of tampering and I have a recording of some almost unintelligible mess of a voice talking to us over the main line. Right beside ours that come over with perfect clarity. It just doesn't make sense!"

A chuckle couldn't help but escape Dick's lips as Babs let out a defeated huff on her end. Glancing back towards the medbay he recalled the few times Tim tried to tell him about his patrol companion.

"A snowflake in September," he mumbled pensively, gaze sinking down to his hand again. Then with sudden clarity, he whipped his head up and scanned the Batcave more closely than before, squinting up into the dark corners of the high ceiling.

At one point Danny thought Dick had caught him somehow, the odd cold spot in the area. His shoulders sagged in quiet relief when the vigilantes' eyes swept over where he was floating.

A cold spot in a cold cave isn't odd, after all, and the sensors weren't displaying anything unusual.

Dick glanced back to his hand one more time before turning back to the bat computer and telling Barbara he'd give her an update on Tim's situation in the morning. Saying their 'sleep well's' Danny watched as Dick shut off the giant computer, checked in on Tim one more time then headed to the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim woke up quicker than he had previously. The smell of breakfast wafted to the medbay even from all the way upstairs and his stomach rolled in hunger. Something cold was sitting over Tim's wound, pressing into it but strangely not hurting him in any way. The cold felt familiar, comfortably cool but not chilling, and he could faintly make out a low hum -purr?- coming from somewhere to his left. He cracked one eye open to see both what was in him and the origin of the purr, when the pressure on his wounds released. The lightness around his shoulder probably meant there was another cold comforting thing there he hadn't noticed before. Prying both eyes open fully he looked around the small patient room and realized the purring had stopped and that he was alone. He wasn't awake enough yet to wonder why that was strange, just happy when he heard the ding of the elevator open.

Someone in the Batcave meant he could get some food, after all.

Dick poked his head into Tim's room a few seconds later, a bowl of what appeared to be Cream of Wheat in his hand. He gave a smile, seeing his little brother awake, and let his body follow his head into the room. Setting the bowl down on a pull out table for Tim, Dick chipperly asked "how are you feeling, Timbo?"

"Like I decided taking Bane one-on-one was a good idea," he groaned. Sitting up enough so he could eat, he watched Dick give a half-hearted chuckle while staring into the mid-distance. Half remembering the conversation he had with his older brother last night while spooning the warm cereal into his mouth, he looked around and sarcastically commented between bites, "sooo, you gonna tell me what was on your mind when I woke up before? Or do I have to figure it out myself?"

The comment startled Dick more than it should have, and as Tim frowned at the reaction Dick turned his head, his gaze sweeping the room before he spoke.

"That imaginary friend of yours," Tim cut his brother off with another groan.

"If you're still going to make fun of me for that-" Dick raised his hand, trying to pacify the conversation before he could finish.

"Don't worry Timmers, I believe you now. I should have believed you when you brought it up the first time and I'm sorry for that."

Tim almost groaned again when he felt the tension drop from his shoulders, jostling his arm. He wiggled in his bed to readjust himself before allowing Dick to continue.

"I was going to ask if you knew anything more about them. They've been following you around for a month, right? Do you know if they pose any risk to you or the family?"

Tim shoved another spoonful of the gruel into his mouth, it was bland, but it gave him something to distract him from the fact that Dick had steamrolled over an actual apology and went straight to business.

Shaking his head as he swallowed his mouth full down, he began.

"While I don't know much other than they can apparently make ice from nothing and make things glow, I can say they don't have any ill intent. They saved me Dick, after I fell from the roof they caught me and… I think they got the guys chasing me off my back."

He ignored the images of a black-clad white-haired figure flitting through his mind with another mouth full of cereal.

Dick sighed, none of the bats liked not knowing things about what's happening to them, but the fact that the entity following Tim saved him from a bad fall released some tension from the older birds shoulders.

"So you don't think it would do anything to hurt you? I need to make sure, Tim."

They both shivered as a sudden chill filled the room. Pretending not to notice Tim answered, "no, I don't think the thing that's been following me on patrols, helping me with cases, protecting me for a month would hurt me now after all this time."

Was it weird Tim thought that so surely? A little bit. But with the way the room warmed up just as quickly as it cooled had him realising that maybe he and his brother weren't the only ones in the room. Now that he focused, he could feel the quiet cold sitting behind him.

It had never followed him to the cave before.

'Shit.'

The implications of something potentially dangerous being able to make its way into the Batcave, a heavily protected and monitored fortress of a hideout had Tim shivering for a different reason. If B ever found out, he'd have Tim's neck.

He also realized he could hear the thing purring again. 'Like a big cat,' the thought made him huff a laugh, it certainly did seem like he'd taken in a stray, an invisible, cold, possibly monstrous stray, but a stray nonetheless. The purr grew louder to Tim following his laugh and that same feeling of safety washed over him again, like a blanket.

Tim turned around—really just craned his neck, he couldn't really move otherwise—to try to pinpoint where the purr was coming from exactly, but when he faced away from Dick the comfortable noise stopped dead. The feeling of safety stopped with it, making Tim wonder darkly if the creature was intentionally making Tim think it was safe to gain his trust. He pushed that thought away as soon as it came, if it did intend to hurt him, it would be Tim's fault for trusting it.

Turning back around he found Dick watching him. Mumbling a weak and slightly annoyed "what?" He shovelled another spoonful of the now room temperature cereal.

Dick shook his head. 'So the thing following Tim really did come back to the cave with us,' it didn't bode well for them to have a potentially dangerous sentient creature of unknown origin in the cave, but if his brother thought so highly of the thing, he supposed he could let it stay his secret for now. Dodging the question he drawled, "you know, there isn't any footage on your feed from after you slid off that roof."

The "what?" That came from his brother this time sounded less annoyed and more confused, so he counted that as a win.

"That doesn't make sense, my mask wasn't that badly damaged in my escape, or the display would have told me." He watched his brother's brow furrow in thought.

"Yeah, Babs is pulling her hair out because of it. Apparently after you go over this whine comes over the audio and both cut to static until I find you."

The faces his brother was making would be funny if he weren't so curious about it. Seeing his expression finally land on clarity Dick urged "you know what happened?"

"I think I do," Tim admitted. "I heard a buzzing… it didn't have any source that I can remember, so maybe that's what caused it?"

"A buzzing? That could be it, I didn't hear anything when I found you, so it lines up for when the feed comes back."

Noticing the bowl in front of Tim is now, in fact, empty, Dick figures that maybe now should be where he cuts the conversation. The voice over the comms can be addressed once his brother's gotten some more rest. He stands, takes the bowl from the table and turns to leave when he hears Tim mutter a quiet "wait."

Dick stops paces from the door and turns to face his brother. Tim seems to fight with himself for a moment before he ground out "thanks for believing me, finally."

He doesn't look up to see his older brother's reaction, but the smile could be heard in his voice.

"Of course, Tim, I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner." With that said, he walks out feeling lighter, and yet with more questions than when he walked in.

Danny watches as Tim sinks into his bed, mindful of his injuries. The bats know about him, with that fact alone he should be leaving, yet even now his core urged him to stay and protect. 

He knows staying is only going to lead to trouble.

He doesn't want to leave.

Leaving means going back to that rundown dump of a townhouse he's been squatting in for the last three months, doing odd jobs around town during the day just to get a bit to eat (not that he needed to eat much with all the ambient ectoplasm in the air) and going back to looking over his shoulder for the GIW or, ancients forbid, his parents.

A soft "hey" breaks him out of his anxious thoughts, and looking over he sees Tim looking in his general direction. The goosebumps on his unbandaged arm tell Danny that he may have made the temperature dip again, unintentionally this time, and he makes a conscious effort to raise it back up to a more comfortable level.

"I know you're there." The sudden admittance made him jump, but Tim continued on, "I know what I saw last night was you. You saved me and I wanted to thank you. Not just for the save, but also the lead on the ghost thieves. For whatever reason you're reluctant to show yourself, and knowing some of my family you have every right to be, but maybe some sign you aren't just some hallucination or actual imaginary thing would be nice? I kinda feel like I'm talking to an actual ghost here." The last bit came out with a chuckle on both ends, Tim for how crazy he feels talking to an empty room and Danny for just how close Tim got with that quip.

Another internal struggle for Danny, oh joy. Revealing himself would be bad, but maybe something small? Tim already knows he makes ice to some capacity, and he's asking so nicely, Danny thought it wouldn't hurt, right?

On the table in front of Tim, where his bland breakfast previously rested a small statuette slowly materialized from condensing mist. Tim watched as the small mound of green tinged ice formed a base, then on nearly invisible supports a nebulous disk spread out. An icy galaxy sat before Tim, about as big as his hand, and it moved. Even after finishing its creation, the edges twisted and swirled in a continuous dance. He could see glittering stars and fluctuating nebulas as tiny clouds of glittering snow.

It was mesmerizing.

Reaching out to touch it, Tim was surprised at how solid it was. It was like touching compacted sand, if they had stuck the sand in an ice box overnight. Ever so gingerly he took the galaxy off its supports and cupped it in his hand. Despite it being made of ice entirely it gave off a strange warmth. It reminded Tim of holding a warm cup of coffee and relaxing with his family. He had to remind himself to breathe as he put the statuette back on its pedestal. The warmth lingered on his palm as he again searched for the cold spot.

It was right in front of him, and he could tell it was watching his reaction. Carefully, he reached out, like he'd done before on that night he'd decided to befriend the strange creature. Unlike before though, his fingers brushed against something. Fabric, he could feel it but there was still nothing to see. His hand slid down what must have been an arm before feeling a fisted hand just over the bed near his thigh. It was tense, and as the cold familiarity of the hand he was holding set in he realized the being sitting on the bed in front of him was afraid. He could feel the quiet anxiety coming off in cold waves, and he had to wonder what it was afraid of.

Tim shifted for better balance and the hand underneath his flinched. Was it… was it afraid of Tim? Afraid of what Tim would do if he knew it was real? That both did and didn't make sense. The being in front of Tim was powerful, he had no doubt it could level all of Gotham if it wanted to, and none of the bats would be able to stop it (not for lack of trying, of course) and yet it was afraid of Tim. Tim, the guys that practically lived off coffee and 5-hour energies, Tim the one that accidentally falls asleep at the batcomputer so regularly Alfred had a specific blanket tucked away just for him. That Tim.

The hand below his flexed again and he realized it must be waiting on an answer. With what he hoped was a reassuring pat to the back of the gloved hand before him, he smiled and snickered, "now, was that so hard?"

The fact that while the hand hadn't moved, the waves of anxious cold he felt warmed up had Tim cheer a silent victory. Trying to look in the direction of where the beings head could be, he continued.

"I get it if you don't wanna show yourself, I really do, but maybe you could keep me company? I probably got six to eight weeks laying in this bed, and I don't know about you, but I'll probably die of boredom before that's up." He chuckles, and going off of the way he feels the hand underneath him bounce, he guessed the thing in front of him does too.

"So yeah, you're welcome to stay, if you want. Maybe help me pull a prank or two, and I know that no matter what you are, you're going to love Alfred's cooking."

Well shit, Danny basically just got the go ahead to haunt the Wayne family, by one of the Waynes. He feels like he should be honoured? Sure the fact he doesn't want to go back to living in that stupid townhouse is another driving factor, but having a friend that doesn't mind his ghosty bits outside of Sam and Tucker sounds really appealing. It doesn't help that he's been really lonely.

Tim feels the hand slide out from under his. Before he can marvel at the fact they did it without making any sound, or mourn the loss of the comforting cold he watches as the galaxy statuette lifts off its base. The statuette hovers above the table for a few moments, then raises and dips repeatedly, straight up and down. Tim laughs at what could only be described as the floating statue nodding at him, before being set down on its base.

"Well I guess that settles it then," he laughs, "if you're going to be around more often, I'll need something to call you though." The room temperature takes a dive, not as cold as before, but still noticeable.

"Okay, I'm going to guess you either don't have a name, "the room temp doesn't change " or have a name but can't or don't want to say it." The room slowly warms up at that. So it has a name but can't use it. Tim can work with that.

"Well, how about I give you a name until you can tell me your real one? I'm not as good as Damian in naming things but I'm sure I can think of something." A hum heard and Tim begins to think of what he could call his new friend. Remembering the white hair he saw the night before and what was probably the same figure as a nebula had his eyes wandering to the statuette sitting prettily before him. So the being either likes space or space themed things (did it come from space? An actual alien? Just another thing to think about.) Trying to recall the knowledge he gained from the few times he's gone stargazing, a name pops into Tim's head that makes him want to laugh.

"How do you like the name Arcturus? If I remember right it's one of the brightest stars and it looks white when you see it in the sky."

The reaction he gets is instantaneous, a loud purr reverberates throughout the small room and this time Tim does laugh.

"I suppose that's as good of a 'yes' as I'll get. Good to finally meet you Arcturus." He holds out a hand before realizing that a handshake probably wasn't going to happen. Before he could take his hand back he felt the hand he was holding previously snake into his and grip it gently. He smiled and shook it, absently noting the claws he could feel poking at the back of his hand.

"I feel like this will be the start of a beautiful friendship," he grins.

A puff of frost in his face has him snort and grin in the direction of his new friend.

Yeah, this'll be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

[edwinspaynes]

I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

-

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

[kandadze]

Ep 26 loose (and rambling) thoughts

I find it almost comical how Chongwu Camp took over the whole shapeshifter case and everyone just nodded and went home. What is Fan daren even doing? Playing weiqi with the Situ guy, instead of actually running the Demon Hunting Bureau so that it doesn't look completely inept in comparison?

Aww look at WX waiting for ZYC to come back! It's kind of interesting how, as she was moving closer to him, the camera moved away so we can only see their silhouettes in the end, and just the very beginning of a hug-

But then we get to follow ZYZ as he's almost floating through the rooms of the Bureau. I imagine these are ZYC's private quarters... It might be the fighter training, or ZYC is just so attuned to ZYZ's presence, either way the fact that he noticed the Great Demon immediately despite being deep in thought, *and* wasn't surprised in the slightest, is kinda amusing to me. (Don't get me started on the bed in the foreground as the scene  switches to them talking 😂)

I'm afraid I was not wrong when I thought that "I understand ZYZ now" might mean, among other things, that ZYC understands the demon's wish for death, and thus feels less conflicted about fulfilling it. At the same time, the relief in his face when he talks of breaking the oath, regardless of the consequences... These two, I swear. Because of course ZYZ cuts in immediately with, absolutely not, no dying on my watch, ZYC!

(Also, did we forget the little detail of ZYC not possessing an inner core? Or have they already discussed it behind the scenes and this way we got the "do what you want to become who you want to be" because of course they're going to repair the sword so ZYC *will* be protected from his own demonic energy?)

Now don't come for me, I don't have medical training or anything, but I know depression, and I know how I can extend the gentlest of care and understanding to others while completely unable to do the same for myself, and this is what I see in ZYZ in this scene. He reassures ZYC, encourages him to think about the future, talks of how they're family and they're in this mess together, and yet, and yet, almost in the same breath, he still insists on only one thing for himself. I understand him *and* I want him to want to have a future too, goddamnit.

Is everyone in this place suffering from insomnia? I mean, not that surprising all things considered, but we barely see anyone from the crew resting... You tell him, WX! Him and ZYC, the two self-sacrificial idiots. Also, for such a short scene, it sure did pack a punch... I love the tenderness between them.

Finally we got around to repairing that goddamn cloud ceiling over the Wilderness lol And of course, now that Bai Jiu's mom is back to her human form, he's - where?

The way I cackled at the way my question was answered in the very next scene... Li Lun, the drama queen of all times, does not want to miss the family excursion! (Also, I've seen it said many times but it bears repeating, the kid actor is phenomenal. I literally forget he's 12 when he's portraying Li Lun.) Ying Lei is the goodest boy, and I'd give him all the head pats and high fives. Don't die, please.

I find myself cheering for WX repeatedly in this ep, probably because she keeps saying what I'm thinking, ZYC, ZYZ, stop being idiots!

Well this took an unexpected turn. I love how unruffled ZYZ appears up until the very moment ZYC says, let's give up on restoring the sword, and I hate how his reply seems to be the drama once again reminding us that apparently there are only two possible outcomes. Come on, give us a secret third thing, I'm begging you!

"Even if it's restored... please don't die." What I just said! I remember how we were all, ZYC is going to regret his oath, and we definitely got that, but for him to outright put a condition like that on restoring of his fate weapon, demanding ZYZ to promise not to die is just - top tier. My heart. And then I cheered for WX again, she was *so* mad lol Good on you, girl, you said what we were all thinking!

Ugh ZYZ, stop breaking my heart. I don't think he's ever outright lied to any of them, but the way he seems to categorize his own promises to ZYC... I guess the one about not seeking death is not the highest priority. Ffs

All demons in this world, including ancestors, seem to suffer from loneliness above all else... I love how fast ZYC refuses. He's ready to sacrifice himself, but he'll never sacrifice any of his companions. Ngl I don't think I breathed through the whole sequence that followed. The goodbyes (PSJ, can you act like a normal person at least once? Not sure if it's the actress, but oh goodness does PSJ grate on me sometimes), the "I choose myself," and then ZYZ activating his energy to break the ice, because of course he would. To be honest, at this point in the story, I would really rather these two died together doing something heroic, as opposed to one of them dying and the other continuing on in misery, but hey, unfortunately I'm not the one calling the shots here.

(Also, seeing Bingyi and Ying Long in the preview... hats off to the costuming and makeup folks, because damn, TJR and HMH are already exceptionally good looking, but in the demon get-up they're just out of this world, achingly beautiful.)

[ozs-twink-boytoy]

Is anyone else getting tired of theframing of the discussion of why Oz is Like That?

I mean in relation to why Oz is a bad person. Like, everyone has different opinions on how he became the monster he is. But they often take a really... reductive view of it which kinda reveals how people see morality in real life.

Oz isn't a good person, I agree. He's not seeing the pearly gates. And that's because of his choices and because he's so wrapped into his idea of himself that he'll do anything to preserve it.

But like, folks want to invent a sort of... innate trait it him, and tbh it kinds turns lowkey bigoted at a certain angle.

Like I literally had to shut down a debate in my discord server cause they were being like "Oz doesn't feel empathy." Which felt like a kick in the balls as a low empathy autistic guy. I can't even imagine how someone who straight up doesn't experience empathy must feel like.

You can be a good person, and go your entire life without feeling bad when other folks feel bad. By the simple fact your choice and your feelings are two separate things.

Same thing with **feeling romantic/platonic/familiar love**, doesn't make you a good person; Same thing with not having a good grasp on reality , doesn't inherently makes a **Bad** person.

There's no inherent mental trait to evilness, that's a made up fictional thing. (That the show might endorse in its own problematic way but that's a separate post)

I'm just not on board with pathologizing Oz, in any way. Because it'll inhernetly demonize someone irl I don't want demonized.

Idk, just had to get my vent out there

[brothernasty]

I find discussions on this super fascinating because all my friends are visual artists and they “see things like it's a movie” in their minds. I mostly think in words, so when I have an idea for something, I tend to go straight into narration/verse without planning it out. Obviously it's still first draft stuff, so I don’t skip any part of the revision process, but I’m not sure I do as much image-to-word translation as other people do.

I want to add my two cents and say that doing writing exercises can be a great way to find ways of writing and thinking that work for you. Writing exercises can involve basically anything, so if you’re googling I’d look up “dialogue writing exercises” or some other specific aspect of writing to get ones that aren’t too broad or complicated.

For a little context, I used to write fiction growing up, got addicted to poetry for a few years in college, and now I'm writing a novel.

One exercise that's useful no matter what you write is to get into the habit of translating sensory experiences into words. If you see/hear/smell/whatever something interesting, think about how you would describe that. You can write these down, or not - it's more about the practice of turning sensory experiences into words.

It's like the artists’ exercise of breaking down an object into its component shapes so you can understand and draw it easier. Practicing turning the world around you into words makes it easier to take the detailed image you have in your head and put it on the page.

Another easy one is to take a piece of writing (including film/TV!) that you like and figure out what you like about it and how the author did that. What plot beats created tension that made you excited to see what would happen next? What does a character say/do that makes them likeable or unlikeable? How did the writer create a certain atmosphere?

Just thinking about how stories work is always useful, but you can also turn this into a sort of study by trying to write a few paragraphs in a certain writer’s style or try to write your own episode of your favorite TV show. This can be a great way to put that analysis into practice.

All that being said: all writing is practice. I spent my childhood writing a looot of short stories that I simply never finished lol. And that wasn't wasted time! So don't feel bad if you end up with a bunch of WIPs that never go anywhere.

Anyway! I hope any of this is useful!

I am curious, writers. Im a visual artist and its smth that has come to me very naturally my whole life, ive worked hard to get better at it and to learn how to observe the world but i feel like ive always had an inclination for it

Ive always wanted to write more, but it doesn't come to me as naturally as pictures

Which doesn't mean i shouldn't put in the effort of learning it, and it's somwthing i want to definetly do :D

But it made me wonder, bc i have such a solid understanding of how i approach the process of drawing (which can be different ways 2 be clear)

At writers, what are some of the ways you personally approach writing? Does it come from just opening a page and fiddling around sometimes, like doodling on a page? Do you do studies like, drawing from life but writing from life??? Or is it more the usual concept of like... a scenario pops into your mind and you start working from that?

Idk im just rambling Curiously i would rly like to push myself to write more bc. A) its a rly important skill to have b) even if i only end up using it supplimentally in my artwork, processing stuff through written pacing, drafting a story etc. Can be so. Well detrimental

[existencebringsonlypain]

I may have posted about this before, but I don't understand the whole proshipper/anti debate. As far as I understand, I'm on the side of proshippers (i think fiction is fiction and doesn't have to reflect reality. because it's fiction.), but what I don't get is why there's such a clear defined binary, and why there's such animosity between the two. It's just a difference in opinion, like any other, isn't it? I understand that either group can "take it too far" (though i dont really get how proshippers could be TOO okay with problematic ships). but i really think either viewpoint is fine to a degree, they both have logic behind them, and it's just a matter of preference, isn't it?