#it's just something that keeps bugging me about it

[lieslab]

And at last I see the light

꘎♡���━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Half-delirious and sick, you randomly tell Minho about your dream proposal and he takes notes.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I'm sappy and emotional. This was definitely inspired by Tangled. What can I say? I'm just a girl who cries easily and thinks about love a lot. Can a girl not ponder? Anyway, if you get choked up at proposals, grab a tissue or two.

_ _ _

The simple conversation was so long ago that you forgot about it. It was a brief moment in passing, just another random conversation, but Minho didn’t forget it. In fact, he’d been planning since then. 

“If I were to propose to you, where would you want it and how would you want it done?” 

The two of you were on opposite ends of the couch. Your body was heavy with the weight of a random stomach bug. Through the stomach aches and nausea, you were fading in and out of consciousness. Minho wanted to take you to your shared bed, but you refused. Too worried about making him sick, you opted to stay on the couch. 

Every time he came close to you, you stubbornly held your breath and threatened to make yourself pass out. It was dramatic, but it wasn’t unusual for you, you always were. Too afraid of giving him the same bug, you did your best to keep your distance. 

You didn’t get the exact wish you were hoping and praying for. At some point, you fell asleep and he covered you in a thick fleece blue blanket. A kiss was planted to the top of your sleeping temple before he strolled back over to the couch. He curled up on the other side and kept an eye on you. 

The television was already on, but he twitched the show to something silly with cartoon characters. You needed your rest and he didn’t want you to wake up and stress out your brain by trying to follow along with a half-over plot. He picked out the most childish show and let it play. 

When you woke up, you awoke to dancing shadows and the gentle vibrations of the leather couch. Across the way, Minho couldn’t help, but laugh at something that a character said. He grinned and kept his eyes on the flickering screen. 

You caught his attention when you sleepily uttered his name. He quickly lowered the volume, got up, and rushed to get you water. You still refused to let him be too close, so all he could do was keep his distance and observe your stubborn self. 

The conversations didn’t have a steady theme. He talked about one thing and then another. You jumped from topic-to-topic with him. You were about ready to fall asleep again when he asked you that question. 

“Tangled,” you mumbled. 

His eyebrows pinched together and he studied your face. Your sleepy eyes were half-lidded and a yawn tugged your mouth into a small o-shape. A smile grew on half of his face and he asked for clarification. 

“The scene where Rapunzel and Flynn are in the gondola with the flying lanterns.” 

“What about it?” 

“Maybe not the gondola, but with the flying lanterns.” You nuzzled your head back against the cool leather. “I’ve always thought they were beautiful. It’d be the perfect memory.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so, but you can’t propose to me when I’m sick. I don’t feel good and I think I’d throw up on your shoes. I think the lights would somehow make me nauseous.” 

“You poor, poor thing,” he teased you. 

“Mmhm. Poor me.” Your eyes slipped shut and you let out a sigh. He watched you slowly drift back to sleep with the cartoons long forgotten about. His brain went into overdrive that night. 

Loving Minho was the easiest choice you ever made. From his quick wit to his loudness, it was the best choice. Not a single soul could compare and it was something you tried not to take for granted. 

Whether it was arguing about who deserved the last pudding, or sitting in silence while Minho laid on your lap, your love was so simple. Life went on and the conversation erased from your brain, but it didn’t stop you from having moments when you watched him with a soft fondness. 

Your body relaxed and inside your chest, your heart stuttered as your brain tried to capture those little moments. Sometimes, it was as simple as him leaning over the stove and stirring whatever dish he was trying to make. Other times, it was when he was bare faced and stretched out on the couch with one of his cats upon his lap. 

His messy hair poked out in every direction from running his hand through it. After dance practice, his muscles ached and he just wanted to sit down and take a bit of time to relax. You usually joined him and crept over, snuggling beneath his arm to keep him warm. He’d whine and complain of your sudden presence, but he never pulled away. 

He liked when you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck. Just as you grew fond of him, he grew smitten with you. He joked that his love for you was like a pesky bunion that just wouldn’t go away. 

Meanwhile, you compared it to wild mushrooms. You could try to stop loving him, but the love would keep sprouting up. Just when you thought there was nothing more to love, you’d turn your back for a brief moment and glance back to find another thing to love; another mushroom sprouted through damp soil. 

Everything was warm and bright. In your eyes, everything was right and as the days turned into weeks, when those weeks burrowed into months, and began to roll into years, Minho knew he had you forever. He was going to take advantage of your sleepy-sick state and put his plans into action one day, but it never seemed like the right time. The two of you were always busy and time kept going, your love was an endless sea, but he wanted to make it truly official. 

That wish came true when spring unveiled itself. With the chirping birds and baby bunnies, there was finally going to be a lantern festival. Rejuvenation, rebirth, and earth’s restoration; the perfect time to take the next step in your relationship. 

“Wear something nice.”

“I always wear something nice.” 

“Your constant state of sweatpants and hoodies says otherwise.” 

“Fuck off!” 

He just wanted you to look back at the video and be content with what you were wearing. The lantern festival was a rarity and you already had your best outfit picked out. You went through the entire routine of making yourself look good and then put it on. 

It was a miracle that you didn’t notice the bouncing of his non-driving leg. He shifted in the seat a few times, but your nose was pressed against the passenger’s seat glass. You were going on and on about how excited you were for the festival, you always wanted to attend one. 

You were unaware that the fate of your relationship sat in a small square box in Minho’s pocket. The weight of it in his pocket wasn’t much, but tonight, it felt like the ring he picked out was a thousand pounds. He kept glancing over at you and imagining what your face would look like. If it was ugly, he would be sure to tease you about it. 

The two of you arrived twenty minutes before the lanterns were set to be released. Finding a parking space was difficult, but by some miracle, he managed to find an empty space to squeeze his car into. He grabbed your hand and headed to the area to grab a lantern. 

“Are you getting one too?” You asked, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

“No, I just want to watch you light and release yours. You’ve been wanting this, right? It’s your night to shine.” 

“Well, yeah, but I thought you were going to do it with me.” You frowned and couldn’t hide the disappointment from your voice. 

“Just don’t worry about it, have your fun.” 

After grabbing the paper lantern with a tea light white candle tucked inside, Minho handed it to you. “Remember that you only get one wish, so use it well.” You playfully slapped his shoulder and took the lantern. 

“Maybe I should wish for you to stop being a pain in my ass.” 

“In your dreams.” 

With one hand on the lantern and one hand in Minho’s, you began to lead him through the thicket of people. It seemed like everyone wanted to light and release a lantern too. Maybe it was the same reason as you, people wanted to make a wish. For others, it was a way to remember specific people and other loved ones. 

No matter what the reason was, it made your heart swell with happiness. How human was it to long for peace? People had done this since the beginning of time and tonight wasn’t anything new. 

Little did you know, Minho’s friend was tracking his location. The location sharing app had the exact path they were taking. A few people away, he silently followed with quiet footsteps. In his hand, the phone that’d be used to catch the proposal. 

You wiggled through laughter and tears full of a yearning for loved ones. Tonight, no matter who was here, there was a sense of unity. You could feel the tethered string of your heart plucking at all the sights and sounds. 

When you finally found a spot on a slight grassy hill, the two of you were only near a handful of people. Minho glanced over his shoulder and found his friend’s face in the reflection of a phone light. His friend quickly clicked off his phone, so he could stay hidden in the dark blanket of night.

“How do you feel?” Minho asked. 

“I’m so excited!” You grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Ever since I watched Tangled for the first time, the floating lantern scene on the water has always been my favorite scene.” 

“I’m sorry that we’re not on water.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You scoffed. “Look at where we are! This is going to be so beautiful. It’s like we’re holding the stars tonight. For once, they won’t be in the sky, we’ll be capturing them and sending them back home.” 

He pressed his lips together, trying not to get sappy over how excited you were. You were like a little kid as you rambled. Even in the dark, a nearby street light lit up the excitement in your eyes. He’d seen you excited before, but this was something entirely different. 

His hand went into his pant’s pocket to make sure the ring was still there. His hand found the square leather box and his shoulders relaxed. He knew exactly how he’d do this, he was just hoping you’d say yes. 

After a few minutes of talking, your arm shot out and you pointed across the way. “Look! It’s starting! We can light our lantern!”

Our lantern. 

Minho said he wasn’t getting a floating lantern and instead of ignoring his words, you just assumed that the two of you could share the lantern instead. His heart ached with a love for you that he couldn’t understand sometimes. It was little things like that, it made him think he could love you until his heart gave out. 

He reached into his other pocket, held out a lighter, and handed it to you. You held up the lantern and he hesitated. It was only after you nodded that he flicked the flame to life. He placed it back in his pocket and behind him, his friend came closer to record the moment. 

“Come on, grab the lantern and make a wish.” 

“But it’s your lantern.” 

“Lee Minho, so help me, if you don’t grab on and make a wish with me...” 

Across the way, flickering yellows and oranges began to fly higher in the sky. He grabbed the other side of the lantern and together, the two of you raised it higher and higher. After your arms couldn’t stretch anymore, your fingers let go. 

You smiled as you watched it go further and further away. Above the people’s heads, above the buildings, and further and further into the night sky. Your eyes didn’t leave, even when it blended into a crowd of other lights. 

Awe and endearment flooded the area. Shouts of joy and flickers of laughter. No matter what people wished tonight, for once, it felt like it’d be okay. Whatever hurt and whatever harm had touched people’s lives, tonight was the start of something different. 

Every light had a story and each one was a flicker of hope. Into the air, into the sky, and over buildings. Tonight, you weren’t sure where your lantern would land, it’d be up to the universe to decide. 

“So what’d you wish for?” 

You began to spin around at the sound of Minho’s voice. “I wished for-” You gasped and a hand slammed over your mouth. A few feet away, Minho was down on one knee with a box holding a ring. 

“Are you joking?” Your voice wobbled as you spoke. An emotional lump was forming in your throat. Tears blurred your eyes. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” 

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” You vigorously nodded as tears streamed down your cheeks. “A thousand times yes!” 

Before he could get up, you collapsed down beside him. He didn’t get a chance to speak because you threw your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your head into the side of his neck as a choked out sob fell from your lips. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Why are you crying?” 

“Because,” you weakly squeaked as you pulled away from his body. “This was my wish. I wanted our relationship to last forever.” 

“I guess we both got our wishes tonight. My wish was that you’d say yes.” He chuckled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. “Can we get up now? I’d like to make it official and put a ring on it.” 

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled as you pulled your arms away. You allowed him to help pull you up. Your hand stuck out and he began to stick a ring on your finger. 

“That might be true, but I’m your idiot.” He gently grabbed your ring finger and slid on the ring. “Now I’m your idiot forever. Come on, stop crying.” He wiped away more of your tears. 

“I can’t help it, I’ve always dreamed of this. How’d you know this is what I wanted? The floating lights and everything?” Your eyes searched his, but all he offered with a soft hum and a shrug. 

“Love is a mystery like that sometimes.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he slowly turned you around. “Let's watch the lanterns, shall we?” An arm wrapped around your shoulders. 

With a final sniffle, you let your head lean against his shoulder. Everything was just as perfect as you’d imagine it to be. Nothing anyone could do would ever be able to top this moment.

Minho glanced over his shoulder and his friend gave him a thumbs up. He stopped the recording and disappeared back into the crowd of people. Tomorrow, Minho would make you watch the video and he’d tease you for your dramatic reaction. 

Tonight, you were just two people whose wishes came true beneath floating lanterns and that was enough for him. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman

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[darlingdaisyfarm]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ִֶָ mullet!stan pines x farmer's daughter!reader ♡༉‧₊˚.

honestly idk what happened i just wrote this in like 40 minutes because the idea wouldn’t leave me alone, i never write this fast sorry for the random but i love that dynamic 🤍

Gravity Falls market days were a real mess you’d grown up in but never quite adjusted to. the sun sat high and too mean, slanting golden light across the rows of wooden stalls and voices carried sharp over the sound of shuffling feet. you didn’t mind the noise because it made the hours feel faster.

your hands worked quickly, sorting the last of the peaches into the old wicker basket, as you clearly remembered your mom’s words “don’t bruise the fruit, honey; folks don’t buy what looks spoiled.” you smoothed your palm over the fabric of your overalls, standing up straight to greet the next customer and—

he wasn’t what you expected and you weren’t sure what to make of him. broad shoulders under a faded red jacket, hands stuffed into his pockets, huge dark bags under his eyes. he looked rough, unpolished you'd say, like he’d stepped out of a life far removed from your quiet one and found himself here by accident.

he nodded toward your baskets. “how much for the peaches?”

you sized him up. “depends,” you answered. “you actually gonna pay?”

that caught him off guard, did he really look that bad? his lips twitched into grin. “didn’t know this place came with an interrogation.”

“it’s not interrogation,” you shot back, leaning against the edge of the stall. “it’s just business. besides, you look like the type to run off with free samples.”

he laughed then. “well, guess you caught me,” he held his hands up like he’d been caught red-handed. “but im starving here. what’s it gonna take to get one of—”

“ahh, you must be the scientist everyone talks about.” you interrupted him, shifting the basket awkwardly against your hip.

“uh right, that's me.”

“mom mentioned you,” you continued, even though he didn't seem in the mood for conversation. “said you were. . . weird.” the word came out of your mouth before you even realized it, and your cheeks instantly flushed. great. off to a fantastic start.

but he didn't seem offended. on the contrary, he looked amused, slightly raising his eyebrows. “weird, huh?”

“her words, not mine,” you explained quickly, though it wasn't exactly untrue. “but yeah. she said you moved out here to study something? bugs? dirt?”

he chuckled. “somethin’ like that. but im pretty hungry. so what’s it gonna take to get one of those?”

you should’ve turned him away, told him to come back with cash like everyone else. but your gut told you he’d actually gone a little too long without a decent meal. yeah, thats how bad he looked.

so you reached into the basket and handed him one.

“on the house,” you said.

he blinked at you, caught somewhere between surprise and suspicion. “seriously?”

“just this once,” you warned. “but if you come back, i expect full price.”

“aww, isn't that adorable, thank you, sweetie.” he took the peach, turning it over in his hands. “heard people here mentioning you're generous girl.”

...

the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as you ride your bicycle down the lonely country road. the day has been long, filled with selling farm food. your hat shields your face from the fading light, but a chill is settling in as the evening approaches.

the basket on your bike rattled with what was left of the day’s haul, less than you’d hoped for but enough to keep the house running another week. your legs ached from pedaling though. the cold was creeping in now.

when the headlights appeared behind you, cutting through the soft twilight, you almost didn’t notice. but then the car slowed, pulling up beside you and you heard the window roll down.

“need a lift?” a smoky voice asked.

it was him. Stanford. the same red jacket, the same grin. he surely hadn’t been expecting to see you but was damn happy about it anyway.

you hesitated as you looked at him and his car, tightening your hands around the handlebars. “and leave my bike?”

“throw it in the back,” he told you, jerking his thumb toward the back seat. “unless you’re real set on freezing out here.”

you glanced at the empty road stretching ahead of you, then back at Stanford. he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to offer something for nothing, but he also didn’t seem like the kind to push it if you said no.

so you nodded. Stanley gave you a reassuring smile. “hop in, toots. it's getting cold.” you let him haul the bike into the back before climbing into the passenger seat. the warmth from inside is immediate, a stark contrast to the cool evening air.

he didn’t say much at first, just flicked on the radio and kept his eyes on the road. but then, without looking over, he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to you.

“here, take this. it’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm.”

you took the fabric and when you putted it around your shoulders, you felt the softness of it against your skin, grateful for the gesture. “thank you,” it was too big, the sleeves hanging loose past your wrists, but it was so warm. although it smelled very strongly of cigarettes.

he shrugged modestly. “no problem. it’s the least i can do after the way you treated me last week.”

“so,” he said after a beat, glancing over with that same crooked grin. “what’s a farmer’s daughter doin’ out on the road this late?”

you pulled the jacket tighter around you. “work doesn’t stop just ‘cause the sun goes down.”

“hard worker, huh? guess your mom was right about you.”

you glanced at him in surprise and furrowed your brow. “you keep bringing up my mom like you actually know her.” you said suspiciously.

“ran into her a couple weeks ago,” he admitted. “she was real proud, talkin’ ‘bout how her daughter’s the backbone of the farm.”

heat rose to your cheeks and you turned your gaze back to the road. “she talks too much.”

“nah, she’s just proud of you.” this time, you stayed quiet, letting the hum of the engine carry you the rest of the way home.

...

the next time you see him, it’s at the farm on early morning, when dew still clings to the grass and the sky’s a pale, watercolor wash. you’d barely had time to start on your chores when that same old car rumbled down the dirt track.

Stanley stepped out, wearing that red jacket you’d given back last night, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “you forgot your bike.”

“you didn’t have to bring it all the way here.” you smiled shyly

“well,” he glanced around, assessing the place, “figured you could use it more than i could. besides, wasn’t much of a detour.”

in addition, it was the first time Stan met your dog as he stayed at the farm to try the freshly baked apple pie that you offered.

you were hauling a basket of fresh vegetables from the field when you heard a low, warning growl. you looked up, biting back a grin. “she won’t bite.”

“uh-huh,” Stan said, standing frozen in place as the big scruffy mutt circled him.

you set the basket down, whistling low, and your dog trotted over, tail wagging now that you’d given the all-clear. “this is Molly,” you said, ruffling her ears. “dont worry, she’s just protective.”

Stan crouched slowly, one knee to the dirt, sticking his hand out like he was afraid she might lunge. Molly sniffed him once, then pressed her head against his palm, tail thumping in approval.

“well, look at that,” he said, scratching behind her ears. his hands are so big, calloused, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. Molly leaned into his hand, letting out a pleased huff. “she likes me.”

but then Molly rolled over, flopping onto her back in the dust and he laughed. “spoiled,” he said, rubbing her belly as she wagged her tail.

“you don’t even know the half of it. she gets the best scraps off the table. mom says it’s why she’s got such shiny fur.”

Stan grinned. “lucky dog.” oh, how he wished he could be in Molly's shoes. to be needed at least by someone, to be taken care of, to be fed. “so, you sellin’ this week?”

you nodded, but your gaze drifted toward the fields. there was still so much work left to do, rows and rows of crops waiting to be picked and sorted. you sighed, already feeling the ache in your arms.

Stan seemed to catch on. “well, if you’re ever lookin’ for extra hands, i know a guy who owes you a couple favors.”

...

you don’t know why you start bringing him food. it’s not like Stanley asked for it and he’s certainly not the kind of man who’d admit if he needed it. but you, the sweetest girl in town, noticed how he looked that first day at the market, hunger written all over him like and that makes it impossible not to.

it started with a couple of peaches tucked into a paper bag which you carefully left on the counter of the Mystery Shack with a quick, “thought you might want something fresh.” but then it grew into a jar of honey. then. . . in a bundle of wildflowers tied with twine.

one day, you showed up with a loaf of bread so fresh it was still warm, wrapped in an old tea towel embroidered with little sunflowers. Stanley was tinkering with something behind the counter, muttering something about journals but when he saw you, he stopped, wiping his hands on his pants.

“you know, you don’t have to keep bringing me this stuff,” he said even as he took the loaf from your hands.

“i know, yeah, but you’re always here, and I figured. . . well, everyone deserves a decent meal now and then.” he looked at you for a long moment, longer than felt normal, trying to figure out if you were pulling some kind of trick.

“thanks,” he said your name. “that means a lot.”

and it becomes a thing, fresh eggs one day, a loaf of bread the next. you don’t stay long when you drop them off, because Stanford always says he's kinda busy here, dealing with some of his "scientific research”, so you quickly greet him, maybe say some comment about the weather, but every damn time he sees you, his face softens, genuine smile appearing on it, his shoulders relax too. maybe you’re not just bringing food but something else he’s been missing.

and sometimes, Stanley feels too lonely, so he pulls out an old chair and offers you coffee, the two of you sitting on the porch while he tells you about his life.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well :)

Could I have cuddling HCs with candy, night terrors and LJ? Ty in advance!

I love writing fluff like this, I hope you enjoy <3 Me casually making new LJ lore while writing this :p

Terrors:

It's rough in the beginning, I'm gonna be honest. You are this man's first for everything because when he was living on his own, his own person, his own ruler, he did not care about relationships at all, so he doesn't really understand anything except the barebones basics. The first time you ask him if it'll be okay to cuddle, he tries to think back on how Candy cuddles you (which he can barely remember because he feels embarrassed just watching you guys from inside Candy's mind), and he says that if that's what you wish, you may cuddle him. You've come very far in your relationship with Candy and Terrors at this point, so you naively assume this should go easily, but your assumptions are soon proven wrong. Terrors lays down first, on his back stiff as a board, and waits for you to join him, and you do, curling into his side, but he never moves. He stays that way for a while, to your amusement, and it takes many, many snuggle sessions for him to loosen up. Once he does, gradually wrapping an arm around you, and then two, and then holding you close to him, cuddles with Terrors become much clingier. They're firm but incredibly warm and protective. He prefers to keep you flush and tight against his chest, his arms trapping you there securely, only letting you go when you ask. He always feels he still might be doing something wrong, so he's still a little tense, but he can't deny that feeling your warmth so softly against him is a treasure he wished he'd been indulging in with you for far longer, and these days he's more than willing to cuddle you if you ever ask for it. He gets to the point that he wants to ask you himself, but he's too shy, so he tends to hover around you in a way you come to learn means he wants to snuggle you immediately.

Candy:

Candy's cuddles are nothing to sneeze at. This man is clingy in the best ways, incredibly warm, and all-encompassing as a lover, so of course he gives some of the best cuddles you'll ever indulge in, and he's pretty much always in the mood to cuddle up to you, so you're never starved for his touch. While he's quite brazen and forceful as a person, he's nearly the opposite when you first start cuddling with him at the start of your relationship until he learns what you like. He's all soft smiles and gentle words, wanting to go at your pace to not overwhelm you with his large body and stronger touches. He lets you worm your way into his arms however you'd like to, and once you do the same thing enough times, he learns what you enjoy, and always settles into the right position, readily scooping you into his arms and nuzzling into you to his heart's content. I think Candy prefers to pretty much absorb you into his body with his preferred cuddles. He likes you snug against his chest, his arms around you, your legs intertwined, his torso covering yours as he leans over you so he can cover you with his body. It makes him happy to be able to cover you and hold you so closely, so confined in his body that you've got no choice but to be completely smooshed against him. The type of partner to say they want you inside of their body when you're cuddling so you can just become one being. He tends to surprise you with snuggles when you've been together longer, as he definitely recharges from your touch and just wants to have contact with you all the time, and he's so warm and soft that you can't help but want to constantly be snuggling him yourself, so you tend to never refuse him. Candy is always happiest when he has you wrapped up in his arms.

LJ:

Another resident snuggle bug like Candy, Jack is always down for snuggles, and he's not shy about asking for them either. He's the type to just lift you up and take you away from whatever you were previously doing so he can just carry you off to bed and cuddle you whenever he gets particularly lonely. The only thing that might seem like a drawback about Jack I would say is that due to his mechanical nature, he doesn't have body warmth, so he tends to start off cold in your cuddles. During the summer it's awesome because he can cool you off from the heat outside, but not as pleasant at times like right now, during the colder winter months. However, as the executive owner of this blog and canon, I've come up with a situation; I think since he was originally made for children, that he probably has an internal heater (like a heated blanket situation) to warm up and be more pleasant to be in contact with. Meaning, that Jack can heat up his body to whatever temperature you want, which I suppose actually gives him a lead over others if he has time to heat up! So, when it's really cold, he starts heating himself up in advance, so when you get home he's already warm and ready to go, ridding you of any biting cold you had outside. His preferred cuddles I often write him with are you laying on top of him, his arms wrapped snug around you, your face snuggling into his neck. He likes feeling the weight of your body on top of him, as it makes him feel content and loved, knowing he's got you right here, safe and sound in his arms. I haven't mentioned it in a while, but Jack is able to make a calming purring sound when he's happy, and you can bet your butt he's constantly making that noise when you cuddle, calming both of you down and relaxing you.

[altruistichellhound]

Beastars Boyfriend Head cannons!

I’ll be doing a separate post for the shishigumi. Let me know if you want anyone added to this.

I made this as non specific and gender neutral as I could. I wanted everyone to read this and imagine themselves as whatever person/animal you see yourself as.

Legoshi

Legoshi cannot control his tail around you. Smile at him? furious wagging. Laugh in the sweetest of ways? furious wagging. Kiss him? He’s taken off like a helicopter with how fast his tail is going.

Absolutely loves being close to you! Cannot get enough of your scent, breathes it in more than the air around him.

Territorial of you, anyone looks at you and he’s pissed. Not that you can tell, or anyone else really. Isn’t outright jealous/confrontational unless you are out right disrespected. Absolutely not afraid of getting in fights for you.

When Legoshi is comfortable he will go on and on about his interests. He is so incredibly smart, especially when it comes to bugs. At this point you’re pretty much an entomologists.

Teaches you about the way of the sea and some of the seas language. (You’ll probably be pronouncing it wrong the same as him..)

At the beginning of your relationship he found it hard to communicate his feelings, not he fully able to express his wants and needs. It works very well for the both of you as he is an incredible listener.

Very oblivious…

Loves taking you on dates, especially private ones like picnics and star gazing.

You>Anything else

Louie

If you don’t come from a deer family of high value you’ll be his secret.

He might not show it with words but lord does this man love you.

Endless, and I really mean endless gifts. You offhandedly mention something you like? Oh what’s this, he bought it for you! He’s out and he sees something that reminds him of you, bought it. “Oh that’s cute!” Boom he bought it.

Secretly likes it when you give him massages. Poor man is so stressed out he needs that extra care. He wants a quiet life with you. One where he can be the beastar but come home to your little cozy home where it’s soft and quiet.

Knows you guys simply cannot exist together but pretends like it’s not reality…

Openly jealous, “I don’t like him”. Tells you when he thinks someone has bad intentions. Tries his best to protect you but sometimes it’s slightly misguided.

Acts like he needs to be the dominant one in the relationship but really likes it when you take control.

A balance of all out luxury dinners and simple little cafes you two like to frequent.

If it comes to it he would give up everything, including his relationship with his father; for you.

Gohin

Works out in front of you totally not on purpose. Flexes his muscles when you just happen to be looking at him.

Gohin is such a tease! Doesn’t matter what it is he’ll make fun of you for it. If you don’t like it he’ll tell you it was just a joke but he takes it very seriously and makes sure not to tease you like that again.

Tries his best to keep you away from his work. If you want to help he will tell you no until you persist so much he caves. While he loves you he cares about your safety more, so much training. He will run you until you colapse; he would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

Tea after training/work. He enjoys making you two a drink then sitting and talking about your day between sips.

Even if it doesn’t feel like it I promise you he listens. If he is busy or stressed he will respond with simple, hmm and mhms. However, he heard everyone word and won’t forget what you’ve told him.

At first he’s an awkward kisser, but he’s a quick learner and you’ve never had a better kisser in your life.

You remain the light of his life.

Bill

Childish. Not necessarily a bad thing but sometimes you want to beat him with a stick.

PDA to the max, you’re his and he’s yours. Why shouldn’t the people know? Hold his hand and steal quick kisses please.

Not the best at planning things but he’ll try his best. His goal is to make you happy and have something that will last.

Doesn’t really think about a serious future that much. Not that he doesn’t want to be with you, just that he hasn’t planned ahead enough to really put thought into marriage and a possible family.

This man makes you late to almost everything. Unless it’s the club, he is not on time.

You basically aren’t ever not laughing. He loves to see you smile and squirm around while you laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt. Surprisingly his jokes are actually funny and land quite well.

All his friends know you very well, all he does is brag about how amazing and hot you are.

Jack

The sweetest man to have ever existed.

Had a crush on you for thee longest time before he either got the courage to talk to you or you finally went up to him.

Wants you to be happy, in his mind he can never do enough for you. He doesn’t want you to be happy, he needs it. If you are sad or angry he tries his darnedest to make cheer you up in a way that suits you the best. Listening, taking you out, leaving you alone, really whatever you need he will give.

Snores. Not loud though, sweet little snores and huffs throughout the night. At this point you can’t sleep without hearing him.

Always smells weirdly good. Like it’s unnatural how he always smells the same and it’s never bad. He could sprint three miles and still smell insanely good. When asked about it he just shrugs.

Constantly blushing! He can’t help it around you, doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together.

Collot

You trim his bangs. He lets you but in all honestly doesn’t trust you after you cut them way too short last time. He won’t tell you that though.

Suspiciously calm, makes him a good listener but sometimes it’s frustrating when he doesn’t get mad with you.

Speaking of anger he hasn’t really gotten mad with you. Maybe a few spats here and there but he has never once raised his voice at you.

Worst sleeper in the world! Moved, kicks, loud sleeper, talks. How did he kick you in the face? You don’t know and neither does he. Scares the crap out of you, “He’s coming.” You proceed to violently shake him until he wakes up and reassures you back to sleep.

Really likes playing video games with you or just doing things quietly next to each other.

Riz

Tries his very best to control himself around you after what happened. Really doesn’t matter to him what species you are he’s constantly afraid of hurting you. Cannot let go of you even if he’s afraid.

You on the other hand aren’t afraid of him. He told you what happened and you understood him. He would never hurt you, or so you think.

Protective as hell. Does not matter who it is no one will ever get to you.

Practically worships you. Would kiss the ground you walk on if he could. Lives to serve you, you want something it’s already been done.

Constant cuddles, he always wants to be the big spoon unless he’s sad. Being around you makes him feel powerful knowing in that moment you are untouchable. When you hold him he feels vulnerable, he hasn’t decided if he’s okay with that feeling yet but he knows that it feels good to be the one being protected for once.

Really likes cooking with you and for you.

Pina

Best way to describe him is annoying, but in the best way possible.

Can, and will, talk your ears off. Constantly yapping about something and expects you to listen. He’s offended if you ask him to give you even a second of silence.

Really loves it when you touch his horns.

Best lashes in the room, better than you and he will constantly brag about this. He tells you he’s joking (he’s not).

He’s just a little bit of a freak, “Eat me.” Doesn’t matter if you’re a carnivore or not. “What the hell Pina?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious…

He knows absolutely everything about you. Some things you didn’t even know about yourself! Not only does he know you but he knows everyone else. Tells you all the best gossip and keeps you up to date with rumors even if you don’t care.

Definitely needs someone to keep up with him.

Melon

Crazy but that’s okay!

Would kill someone if you asked him to. Neighbor pissed you off? Gone. Boss is being a dick? Gone. You tend to abuse this fact.

Okay he does not know how to express his love for you. He’s not even sure if what he’s feeling his love. He knows he oddly doesn’t want to hurt you but is that love? Who knows he’s just going with it.

This relationship is pretty much the definition of playing with fire.

You get to see such a different side to him, quiet and maybe even a little soft. Sad maybe? Is it an act? You don’t know but you’ve decided it’s okay not knowing you. Even when you have that nagging feeling that you should care.

Potentially likes you so much because you are very similar to him.

Won’t ever tell you or anyone this but he likes it when you hold him. He also enjoys that you aren’t afraid of his fangs. Will bite you if you let him.

Would both love and hate you even more if you were a hybrid.

Gosha

Biggest softy with you. Would do absolutely anything for you, to him, you are nothing less than the universe.

Thinks you are the most wonderful thing to have ever graced this world. He loves to show you it too. Random gifts, always brings you fresh flowers before your last ones die.

Evening walks are the best with him. As the sun turns the clouds orange and pink he’ll tell you about his adventures as a youth and his previous dreams of becoming the beastar.

The best support you’ll ever have. He whole heartedly believes that you can do anything you set your heart to. Encouraging your passions and making sure whatever you need to meet your goals is there for you to use.

You’ve never felt so safe than right by his side, and rightfully so. No one would even think to mess with you with him around.

Everyone knows you too are together, he’s made sure of that the way he runs around bragging about you.

Yahya

Tries his best to keep you and work separate. This is not only for your safety for also for him. He never expected or wanted a relationship because of his goals but when he saw you he just couldn’t let you go.

Manages balancing you and protecting the world pretty well. Though, he is in fact just a man like everyone else.

Missed dinners often which turns into arguments which ends in mutual apologies and making up.

He is so tired. Needs you to rub his shoulders and lightly scratch his back.

Can’t really sleep but if you tell him stories or hum softly while playing with his mane he knocks right out.

Keeps you out of the public eye because he knows that if he didn’t you’d have a target on your back. Constant security watching you from afar.

Makes sure to provide a good life for you first and foremost, but also is very focused on changing the world. It is a relationship based on understanding on both ends. Compromises have been made.

You are the closest thing to his heart and constantly on his mind.

[moon-buggg]

28 for the micro story post ?

28. Something about [them]

Goth!yn time, also yn is a big fan of bugs in this one if you're not into that. This one got away from me a little bit I don't think it can be called micro anymore lol

When you had first been hired on as daycare assistant, Sun was absolutely, positively, one thousand percent certain you were not the right fit for the position.

Your dark, dreary clothes stood out like a sore thumb against the bright, cheery plastic of the daycare. Your eye makeup was heavy and dark, and judging by your taste in jewelry you were far, far too interested in awful awful creepy-crawlies. He'd caught glimpses of you before you changed into your employee uniform, and it was all too easy to slot you into the role of 'villain' when your chosen outfits fit so neatly in with the story book illustrations of evil, scary characters that the heros would defeat without fail.

...admittedly, it soon became rather difficult to keep up that assumption.

There was just... something about you. Something that kept drawing him back to you, try as he might to resist.

Eventually, despite his initial coldness, he found himself warming up to you. Sun is nothing if not stubborn, and he's honestly a little embarrassed nowadays at how long it took him to admit that he may have misjudged you.

But, those days were far behind him.

Today, he sits at a table much too small for him, trying his best to seperate his focus between colouring and chatting with his table of little superstars, and listening in on your conversation a table or two away.

"Did you know your bracelet has a bug in it?" A boy at your table asks. Sun knows exactly which bracelet he's referring to, probably his least favourite of your jewelry. A braided cored with a scorpion encased in resin. For all that you two had gotten closer, he could not for the life of him figure out why you were so fond of the awful thing.

"Yes I did!" you rely, excitement clear in your voice, turning your wrist to let him see better. "I picked it because of the bug, in fact."

"Oh," the boy responds before pausing. "...Why?" He eventually asks. Sun grabs for a blue crayon, nodding along with the particularly complicated story being told at his table.

"I like them," is your simple but honest answer. "Did you know some scorpions glow in the dark?"

Sun sneaks a quick glance back at your table. The boy has grabbed your wrist, and is studying your bracelet very intensely, like if he just looks hard enough, he'll be able to figure out all the secrets the scorpion holds. You've got a smile on your face as you patiently let the boy twist your wrist this way and that to examine the little preserved pest. Sun quickly looks back to his paper, ignoring the way his fans start running just a little bit faster.

Time passes. The boy does not resume his questioning, and Sun is quickly pulled into a lively debate about which is better- fairy princesses or fairy ninja princesses. He's so caught up in the debate, he doesn't notice the little pair of eyes watching him. Soon enough, arts and crafts time is over and it's time for clean up.

Sun goes around the room, collecting all the drawings so they can be sent home. When he reaches your table, however, he becomes very aware of the boy you were talking to glaring up at him with all the seriousness of a heart attack.

"Mr Sun, are you a bug?"

"What!?" Sun's voice is strained. It's a miracle he's able to stop himself from ripping the papers in his surprise. "Whatever makes you say that, friend?" Oh how he wishes he could glare at you right now, as you try desperately to hide your laughter. The other children at the table are not so shy in their amusement.

"You look like one," he declares like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And, and you've got an ummm... exo-skeleton! Like a bug!"

"Noo friend, I'm not a bug, not a bug at all!" He clarifies, swiftly recovering as he gathers the drawings. "I'm a robot!"

The boy considers this. He must not like whatever it is he decides because he looks at Sun a tad angry as he asks his next question. "Why aren't you a bug?"

You seem to have developed an awful cough right at this exact moment. How unfortunate.

"Well, I'm simply far too big!" He eventually lands on. "Bugs are tiny tiny tiny, right friend? I'm simply too tall!"

The boy seems satisfied with this answer, nodding his head and going back to helping put all the crayons back into their box. You stand up, leaving him to cleanup while you prepare the next activity.

You pat him on the arm as you pass, throwing him a grin. "Dont worry Sun, you're my favourite bug," you say, walking away before he has a chance to react.

It's probably for the best. Sun doesn't think he'd ever live it down if you saw how flustered being call a bug, your favourite bug, made him.

[blackbloodteeth]

@bcbdrums Happy Secret Santa! The original gifter unfortunately couldn't really make it, so old man yaoi to the rescue haha (we meet again haha)

This was originally going to be a little sillier but that wasn't really working out, so they look a little cooler now haha (can't say it couldn't happen in canon at some point hah)

Bonus doodle that I saved and an unrelated snippet below:

Spirit has no idea if Stein is doing it like this intentionally haha

————

His steps start to slow down shortly after entering the room, eyebrows furrowing at his meister cackling to himself in the corner – quite literally as Franken has nearly wedged himself against the wall with the chair facing away from him. "What on Earth are you doing back here?"

"Oh, Senpai –" Spirit preemptively pockets his hands into his suit while Stein turns to face him, a suspicious look of giddiness and a handful of… beans? "– Did you need something?"

"I wasn't really going to say yes, but now I need to know what twisted experiment I'm going to be stopping now."

Another chuckle twitches across his mouth before Stein wheels himself on over, presenting the small dried beans sitting in his palm as- wait why are they moving.

"Cydia saltitans." He watches on in horrid fascination at the tiny hopping legumes and presence of their scientific name.

"More commonly known as Mexican jumping beans." He continues to watch on in horrid fascination when an entire see-through container of them is lifted up to him. "Well, more specifically the larva of the jumping bean moth, neither of which actually being legumes."

Spirit finally remembers to blink again while gawking back at Franken's giddy smiling. "…Jumping… beans?"

"Yes. Here, hold some."

One can not be entirely sure if it was by sheer bafflement or just the helpless willingness to go along with whatever plan his meister dropped upon him that Spirit finds himself already holding out one of his hands, beans bestowed upon his palm, yet here he is anyway. Lost and four jumping beans richer like Jack before having to face a rather cumbersome magic beanstalk.

"Well.. consider me bean-boozled…"

"No, too obvious," Franken hums disapprovingly.

Spirit blinks at him again. "…Sorry, I guess I jumped to that too quickly, I think I can do moth better than that low-hanging fruit."

In an instant, Stein snickers into one of those mischievous grins of his, which for him was the equivalent of an uproarious applause. Looks like he's still got it.

————

Yes, not only did I have the amusing thought that Stein likes to collect bugs (the weirder, the better), but that of course Spirit keeps bad dad jokes up his sleeve and Stein actually delights in groan-inducing puns hahaha. He always felt like a bit of a trickster to me, so the two make a very silly duo.

(And what's the deal with the jumping beans, anyway?)

Oh hey, because my brain is truly unmitigated chaos, here's some other ideas I thought about doing, 'cause why not:

Spirit is finally going to prank Stein back after all these years he's endured, however Stein can already see him coming and always pranks back harder.

Stein is temporarily taking care of guinea pig, and decides to tease Spirit by pretending it's for an experiment.

Stein helps tie Spirit's hair up in a ponytail like how he used to wear one, out of curiosity. (I wonder how Stein would look in a man bun...)

Spirit sees himself as a fox, but Stein sees him as a hound. I had to stop myself from doing something werewolf-related again and that one scene in the anime isn't helping.

Stein is indifferent about Christmas, but loves sweaters and believes there's an art to the ugly ones. Coincidentally this makes it easier and harder to gift to him because he is surprisingly picky about them sometimes (could be Spirit's tastes hah).

Speaking of sweaters, it would be really funny to put these two in one of those two-person sweaters.

Stein probably has an entire collection of sweaters he just stitches together as a hobby. Say what you will about the man, he could probably sow anything at this point.

Do you think Stein would be one of those sweater-knitting grandpas.

Okay I'm losing track of myself again haha, hope this silly assortment is enjoyable!

I will say though, I also had an idea a little while ago where Stein takes Spirit to see a strange ram witch because Spirit has been cursed so that he can't leave his scythe form. Went a little something like the witch asking for one of the screws in Stein's coat pocket, which he swears wasn't there before, and the witch then uses it to guide them in the right direction. A strange but helpful fellow, that one.

[yayasvalveplay]

Bee getting sparked with seeker bitties by the trine

Idw continuity

"Come on. We can talk about this." Bee staited grabbing at the wall. Trying to find the door he had been backed into. But turning his helm only slightly, he got to see that the door was acually on his left and not right. But that is really all it took for his arms to be grabbed, pinned to the side before his mouth was being ravaged by Thundercracker.

Bee moaned into the kiss, allowing the blue seeker to devour him. Compleatly forgetting about the other two in the supply closet with them.

"Cracker, move, it's my turn." The voice of Skywarp said desperately. Pushing the mech in question out of the way to instead plug his tongue down Bumblebee's throat. Pulling the small yellow bot closer, rubbing their modesty panels together.

So lost in the heat that was building, Bumblebee didn't even struggle when picked up, wrapping his legs around the purple seekers waist so he wouldn't accidently fall.

The sound of modest panels opening had Bee pulling away, trying to regain himself and his senses, because there was a reason he was trying to get away. And that reason was.

"Come now, little bug. Open up for us. Promise we'll make you feel good." Starscreams voice said from besides him, kissing and suckling his neck on one side, while Thundercracker did the same to the other.

Rut. These three were in a rut cycle, and had chosen him as their carrier. He could of been fine if it was just one of them. But all three!? Now that's stretching it a bit on what he thinks his body is capable of.

Thundercrackers servos went wandering, all the way down to his still closed valve and spike. He rubbed at the closed valve pannel, trying to trick it into opening. But Bumblebee stayed strong. He was not going to give in.

Well until Starscream bit down on his neck, Skywarp bucked into him, and Thundercracker teased at wires in his inner thighs. His panels slid opened, and before he could protest, Thundercracker was already at his valve, three fingers roughly going in and out, and his tongue. Oh frag his tongue was doing wonders on him.

Bumblebee tried fighting it, tried getting off of Skywarp, but his arms were firmly wrapped around his back and under his aft, squeezing it.

Lubricant dripped down from his stuffed valve, Thundercracker would follow it with his tongue, before he was right back at its sorce. Frag he would not last long like this.

"O-ok fine. You three win! Just, put your spikes in me already!" A pause, no noise happened for a while. It made Bumblebee think he had said something wrong. But no, he was being lifted from the wall, and into another pair of strong arms.

Starscream nibbled at the cables in his neck, allowing Thrundercracker to continue fingerings and eating him out as he layed between the red and purple seeker.

Only when he overloaded for the first time, did Thundercracker pull away, allowing the other two, to take his place but with their spikes. Double penitrating him.

Bumblebee through his helm back in pleasure, a static scream filled the air as the two seekers rubbed at all his nods, bumping against his ceiling nod and his gestation chamber.

"Come, open up for us Baby yellow. Let us spark you up." Skywarp growled. Pulling at leg cables, to make Bumblebee see stars. "You'd be so cute filled with our bitties. All full and round,, unable to walk. We'd have to carry you everywhere. Or just keep you on one of our spikes, so you have a constant flow of transfluid to build the sparklings." Starscream said, moving faster along side Skywarp, both very ready to spill inside.

And for once, Bumblebee didn't struggle, letting his gestation chamber open, and be filled to the brim with the seakers transfluid.

Only, they were not done, oh no far from the truth. As when Skywarp pulled out, Thundercrackers spike found its home alongside Starscreams spike. Bumblebee didn't even get time to rest before they were at it again. Thrusting inside, while Skywarp took his place underneath the three of them, licking at Bee's stretched out valve.

He truely wasn't going to last long.

--------

"I'm blaming all three of you." Bumblebee growled, wrapped up in blankets. His mate's near him, rubbing at his still very small, not even there bump. But he was sparked, the bastard have been having a field day the moment they realized their bee was carrying.

"Now, now Bee, that's no way to talk to your sire's" Starscream tutted at him like he was a child.

"I will bite your spike off if you come near me Starscream."

"I'd like to see you try."

Famous last words.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

I just saw you were taking requests! :D Lately, I've been obsessing over Buck's and Dally's relationship. Do you think you could write something about them? Preferably a sickfic/whump, but no worries if not.

@fefe-the-cat I HOPE THIS DOES YOU JUSTICE!!! This is where I kinda admit I've never thought much about Dally 'n Buck but this was fun to explore!! TYSM for the ask!!! fic below the cut!!

CW: mentions of vomit and throwing up!! nothing graphic!!

Dallas rolls over, grabs the bucket he'd stolen from the shed 'n brings up the only thing left in his stomach: bile. Waves of nausea roll over him, causin' his shoulders to buck 'n his elbows to buckle from where he's tryin' to hold his weight. He lets himself collapse face down on the bed, buryin' his face in his sheets.

Shit.

He doesn't know why he thought he'd be over this by now. Glory, kill him now. He'd felt like shit yesterday mornin' when he'd woken up thrown unceremoniously into the back bedroom at Buck's. He hadn't been surprised, per say. Wakin' up at Buck's almost certainly meant he'd gotten piss drunk the previous night without one of the gang to drag his sorry ass back to Darry. He'd chalked the sickness in his stomach and heaviness in his limbs to forgettin' to stop before the tequila shooters.

That had become a harder beleif to hold as he crawled into bed last night feelin' worse then when he'd started. By the time he woke up this mornin' heavin' dinner he'd accepted it.

He finally stops chokin' on nothin' 'n sits up and against the wall. He was beginnin' to really regret not just draggin' his ass to the Curtis' place. But he didn't want to do that to Darry. He wasn't that selfish. If he wound up on their porch with the bug he'd pass it to Pony who would give it to Soda, would pass it over to Steve who'd hot potato it to Johnny and it would swiftly wind up with Two and finish out strong with Darry. Sickness made the ranks of the gang like clockwork.

No, he was determined to figure this one out himself. He'd be fine.

Dallas dragged his head off the mattress, instantly heavin' again. Fuck, how Darry could take care of all six of them without losin' his mind was beyond Dallas.

A knock pounds on the door and Dallas runs a hand over his mouth to wipe away the bile, scrubs over his face, pushes back his hair. "I'm not runnin' the fuckin' ponies today, Buck, piss off."

He's not necessarily surprised when, instead of retreatin', the door flies open. Not shocked but still irate. Buck stands in the doorway lookin' pissed as all get out before he gets a good look at Dallas. He softens instantly, cockin' one eyebrow.

"You look like shit." Dallas rolls flat onto his back, stares at the celin'.

"Gee, thanks." He pushes himself to sit when Buck doesn't leave. "Fuck off, I'm fine." Buck rolls his eyes. Well, that was new. Usually, when Dallas told him to get lost he'd mutter about some fuckin' kid who thought he could order his grown ass around 'n then promptly get lost.

"Move over." Buck crosses the room in three strides, not that it was impressive, the room was practically a renovated closet. Dallas was more amused with the fact it took him that many.

"Buck, leave me alone. I feel like shit, I'm not runnin' those fuckin' horses." Dallas squeezes his eyes shut 'n bites down hard to keep his teeth from chatterin'.

"Yeah, no shit." He nearly jumps out of his skin when Buck's hand comes down on his forehead. He snaps his eyes open again, bats his hand away.

"Buck, get the hell out of here, would ya?" He tries again. Buck pulls the cig that's burnin' down to nothin' from his mouth, stamps it out on the bottom of his boot, and tosses it out the open window. He reaches over 'n wiggles it shut. "I wanted that open." Dallas shoots him a glare even though he was gonna close it himself the second he got the man out of his room.

"That's probably why you got sick to start with. Close the fuckin' windows in winter, why doncha?" He rolls his eyes and sounds too much like Darry for comfort. Dallas kicks him in the thigh.

"I'm not sick." Buck actually laughs in his face.

"Sure. Do you vomit on the weekends for fun now?" He kicks the bucket Dallas dropped to the floor. Dallas glares at him. "Look, I'll go get that Darry guy, he can come scrape you off the ground." Buck goes to walk out 'n Dallas snags a hand around his wrist quick as quick.

"Leave Darry out of this." Buck stops, fixes him with a stare. "I don't want him to worry or nothin'."

Well. That wasn't the answer Buck had expected.

"Fine." He shakes Dallas' hand off 'n Dally lets it drop to the bed. "But I'm not gonna let you die in my back room. Bad for business." Dallas rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. Buck disappears into the hall, returns with a thermometer.

"I don't need that shit. I'm fine." Buck shoots him an incredulous look Dallas pointedly ignores.

"I don't really care if you think you don't need it. Either you're openin' up for it to I'll get Darry down here to open your mouth for you." Dallas scowls as Buck plays the only card in his hand. He wasn't sure what Darry Curtis had on the rabid dog that was Dallas Winston but whatever it is, does the trick. Dallas leans over 'n snatches the thermometer, shovin' it into his mouth. "Now keep it there. God knows it'll be hard since you can't ever seem to keep your mouth shut." Dallas shoots him a glare 'n he doesn't need words to convey how close he is to kickin' Buck's ass. Buck just grins.

After a long minute, Buck plucks the glass from Dallas' mouth 'n checks the readin'. He lets out a long, low whistle. "Holy shit, kid."

Dallas momentarily stops scowlin' 'n Buck swears he hasn't seen the vulnerable look on his face since Dallas was fourteen 'n rollin' into Tusla with an accent so strong you couldn't understand a damn thing he said and the hunted look of someone much, much older.

"I think you're out for the count, kid." Dallas is still so focused on the red line he forgets to be agitated with Buck for callin' him a kid. Buck puts one hand on his chest 'n pushes him back down to the pillows.

"What does it say?" Dallas puts up a decent, three-second fight before he goes white 'n grabs for the bucket. Buck worries his lip, runs a hand up the kid's back.

"Says you're sick, dumbass." Buck sighs, stands up once Dallas shoulders stop shakin'.

"Don't go." Dallas' hand snakes out again, this time fingers diggin' deep into Buck's wrist. He freezes, takes in Dallas' gaunt face, his sudden desperation.

"I'm not goin'. I'm gettin' you a glass of water since you've been yackin' nothin' since yesterday." Dallas hesitates a moment 'n Buck doesn't try to pry his fingers off.

"Fine. But don't you dare come back here with medicine. I won't take none of that nasty shit." Buck rolls his eyes and crosses back to the door.

"You'll take whatever I want you to so I don't have to have the cops carry your skinny ass out of here in a body bag." Buck pretends he doesn't see the middle finger Dallas throws as he leaves the room.

When he comes back the kid is suddenly much more subdued than he was when Buck left. Buck deposits the shot glass of cold syrup and water on the nightstand.

"What is it, kid?" Dallas leans back against the wall, pulls his knees up to his chest.

"Buck, am I gonna die?" And the question jars Buck so hard he chokes on whatever he was gonna say.

"Are you gonna what?" Dallas turns the full force of his cold, ice eyes to Buck.

"Die." He deadpans.

"What the hell made you think some little cold is gonna knock off the unkillable Dallas Winston?" Buck smooths a strand of white blonde hair from his forehead. He knows he must really be feelin' whatever bug he's caught when he doesn't fight it at all.

"I dunno. I don't get sick. Last time was... New York." He trails off, buries his head down in his knees. He doesn't need to clarify what he means.

"Yeah, well." Buck picks up the glass, forces it into Dally's hands. "This time you got people lookin' out for you. Ain't no stupid bug gonna kill you, kid."

Dallas takes the cup, swallows a tentative sip. "I guess."

"Look. You're tired. You're half delirious if the nonsense you're spittin' says anythin'. Just try to go to sleep. You'll wake up feelin' better." Buck takes the water, swaps it for the shot glass of medicine. Dallas knocks it back like he shoots vodka- makin' a face 'n then pretendin' he enjoyed it.

He eases Dallas back onto the bed, decides fuck it, the kid was as much Darry's problem as he'd once been Buck's. A million years ago. He'd call him once he got the kid down.

Dallas' eyes flicker shut, blonde lashes fannin' across his cheeks. Buck smooths his hair back one final time, pulls the blanket up 'n over him.

He's nearly out of the room when he hears Dalla's hoarse mutter. "What is it, kid?"

"Thanks, Buck. For everythin'." Buck isn't sappy or nothin' 'n if you asked he'd swear he had no idea what you were dreamin' up. But if he wipes a tear off his cheek as he pulls the door closed, well, it was deserved. He had a soft spot in his heart for that stupid kid. Sue him.

[gamblersdoll]

Birthday sex with Genya…? Oooorrrr… Genya getting drunk for his birthday and fucking his partner? (happy birthday, Genya!)

-Your lovely ⭐️ Anon!

i missed his birthday probably. blowjobs that are sloppy, rough genya, degrading.

his birthday wasn’t something too special, he used to celebrate, now its just a simple day to him as he got older.

but hed never forget the first birthday blowjob he received from you.

the bobs of your head echo, soft gags and fluttering eyelashes that screamed “fuck me slow and controlled” to genya. he wanted to go out, slowly transform to a demon— but those were for the special occasion he deemed so.

“fuck— fuuuuck..” he groaned, tweaking his one nipple and he snarled. “suck that cock, bugga, suck that fucking cock.” he needed you, soft slips of your tongue up his circumsion scar and he nods. “shit shit shit, fuck!” he was losing his ever loving mind, toes curling and cramping in his vans.

“mmngh..” you slurp him up, eyes somewhat crossed from the pleasure of sucking him off. you pull away with a pop, tapping his fat cock onto your flat tongue. “feel good?”

he didnt respond the way you wanted, but he forced your head down all the way to feel his tip hit however much he could. “ stop fuckin’ teasin, bitch.” he growled, a part of him hated that he called you that.. but he couldnt help himself, he had came this far.

saliva dribbled from your mouth, eyes rolling and he thrusts into your mouth at a steady pace. “its my damn night..” he reminds you, taking fistfuls of your hair as handlebars and he whines a little. “fuck fuck fuck fuuuck..! slut for a g—girlfriend!”

you look up to him, trying to keep his beloved eye contact— until he stops, pressing the pubes of his cock against your nose to go deeper. finally, he pulls away with a sticky, thick rope of saliva from your mouth. you gasp, spitting yet blowing bubbles on his mushroom tip. “ happy birthday, bug..” you wheeze, a soft slap to your left side of your face.

he repositioned his cock back onto your lips, forcing it down your throat to hold you just right there. “goddd, are you the most prettiest when makeup is smeared and yer in yer cock sucking drunk phase..”

his thighs twitched, his bright idea popping up.

his foot slides underneath your legs, you feeling what he wanted to do— riding his foot. “like that, baby?” he asks, biting his lip with his fang and he nods, “yeah you do, ride that fuckin’ foot like a good whore.” he moaned, god was he so close— been dreaming of this, but you obliged.

your moans ricochet from the walls, grinding in circles on his foot. “feels… s’good..” you say with a mouthful, but he keeps going at his slow pace.

because tonight was all about him.

[haleswallows]

coming at you live, with a news series.... Promises, Promises

Part 1: Cross My Heart (Hope to Die) Fandom: DC x DP Crossover Pairing: Dead Tired (Danny Fenton/Tim Drake) Rating: Teen

Teaser:

"Are you really doing the 'FBI, this is our case now' shtick? What are you, a cop?"

Phantom makes a retching sound. "Sorry, reflex. Any sort of implication I'm government adjacent, can't help it."

"You know being Justice League makes you government adjacent," Red Robin helpfully points out. He weighs a net-launcher in his hand. "If not affiliated with the UN, the League works with the organization often to be called an ally."

"Not me," Phantom says with cheer, pushing a narrow cylinder towards him. "That's essentially a light saber, by the way. Nah, they keep me pretty far from the UN shit. I'm not built for it. I'm there to hit things real hard and share tech."

A light saber? Hell yeah. Tim grabs it and wonders if he can keep it.

"Can I keep it?" he blurts out, because why not?

Shrugging, Phantom says, "Sure, I have like five more. This one is green, but I think I can change the color. Red would match your like —," he waves expansively at Red Robin, "Vibes and aesthetic. Very cool branding, by the way. The cape is dope."

Huh. Tim didn't expect the compliment. He chooses to ignore it, mostly because he just doesn't know what to say in response. 'Thanks, I like your cyber-gothic vibes too'?

"Green's fine, I always wanted to be a Jedi." A red light saber would infinitely more on brand, but Tim would never consider being a Sith. Wait, absolutes. Shit.

It fits perfectly next to his bo staff on his bandoleer. Which, sick and feels like a divine happenstance, as if Red Robin was meant to have the energy blade. He helps Phantom reload the bag, though the ghost keeps the thermos out before pushing the entire duffle back inside his chest.

God, that's even weirder up close. Tim examines Phantom's torso, mind spinning through possibilities on how it works.

"Alright," Phantom's voice breaks his concentration, Red Robin snapping to attention. A truly feral grin spreads across Phantom's face as he lifts into the air, hair swirling and catching the last dredges of sunlight. "Let's go ghost hunting."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They're wrapping up in one of Tim's more 'civilian' passing safe-houses. Mostly because it was the closest, and Phantom said something about 'ley lines' and 'easier to open a portal'. Cool, whatever. Tim wanted to burn this safe-house soon anyway.

Tim, as always, gets himself into trouble. Chronic Thinking Too Much Disease, they really ought to make a cure for it. He reflects, paused in the middle of writing the report and watching Phantom eat Cheerios right out of the box. Phantom perches on the counter, looking like he belongs there, shoveling cereal into his mouth with the relic sitting innocently at his hip.

When the fuck did Tim get Cheerios?

There's no denying it. Tim likes working with Phantom. The guy is good in a fight, doesn't rely on his powers too much, and kept up with Tim. Not just physically, but intellectually. And he's shockingly earnest when he isn't being a trash-talking little shit.

So. Tim gets an idea.

"Hey," he says before he's even thoroughly thought it out, "we should date."

Phantom pauses, gloved hand suspended in the middle of shoving another handful of cereal into his mouth, wide eyed and gaping. Attractive.

"Huh?" he says eloquently.

"Not for real," Tim scrambles to explain. "I mean fake dating. Just hang around some, be a bit performative, nothing out of masks. We can say we're taking things slow and break up amicably. Nightwing keeps trying to set me up with a date. This will get him off my case."

"Oooooh." Phantom resumes inhaling cereal. Why a ghost needs to eat, Tim would like to know, but it's probably rude to ask. Slowly chewing, Phantom seriously thinks it over. "You know, the council has been bugging me, too. About dating. This could work out for both of us."

Council? Tim would like to know why a council is interested in Phantom dating. So he asks.

Phantom sighs explosively. Finally, he sets the Cheerios down. "OK, so like, this is need to know basis only. I haven't even disclosed it to the League. And like, Nightwing only knows because he's my friend and the Observants crashed one of our missions and outed me. Hard to lie about why a floating eyeball showed up to demand I actually show up to the next council meeting, instead of blowing them all off again to play heroes with my living friend."

Pulling a face, Phantom waves an arm in an arc over his head. A crown appears, spinning and shooting off beams of light like an Aurora Borealis.

Tim doesn't gape, because Red Robin doesn't gape. But, you know, that's unexpected.

"I'm the Ghost King. It's a whole thing, no I am not taking questions on it at this time. Well, technically, I'm the Prince of the Infinite Realms because I'm too young to take the throne. So, there's a council and a regent. Whatever, not important!"

Phantom claps, getting himself back on track. "What that means is there's a council and Observants that are really interested in my personal shit. Including who I date. But like, I'm enjoying my brat girl summer and being single right now, not that they care."

Tim blinks. Then blinks again, slotting the new information in place alongside everything he knows about Phantom. That's... something.

"That sounds annoying," Tim says, instead of one of the approximately 23 questions in his head that are quickly spawning more by the second. "Fake dating would solve both of our problems."

Because Tim is a professional, they make a contract.

Phantom watches with great interest as Tim bustles around the apartment, setting up shop at the kitchen table. He doesn't think he's ever actually sat at this table. Mostly, he's used this apartment to sleep, a crash-out spot that has a nicer bed and isn't as sparse as the other Bat-affiliated safe houses.

As soon as Tim sits, stretching out his wrists, Phantom kicks off from the counter to hover around Tim's shoulders. The box of Cheerios balances precariously on the ghost's stomach. Tim eyes it briefly. Then sets to it.

"So, uh," Phantom starts, arms folded behind his head. "How casual is 'casual'?" Under the weight of Tim's judging eyebrows, Phantom defends himself. "I'm just asking! Like, how far are we both willing to go to sell it? Are we exclusive? Facebook official?"

"Facebook official," Tim echoes, typing. "Christ, is anyone Facebook official? Do ghosts have Facebook?"

"I don't know, I could get one. If, like, you think it'd help." Absurd, this entire thing is absurd. But they're here and committed to the bit. Or committing to the bit. There's 'selling it', and then there's…. whatever Phantom is saying. Facebook, what year is it?

"Red Robin doesn't have a Facebook, and I refuse to make one." Tim barely manages to keep from sounding snide.

"I won't mog on you referring to yourself in the person, even though I'm really tempted." How gracious. "Alright, so just. Seeing each other, feeling it out, not seeing other people."

[cha-melodius]

May I ask you about your writing??? First of all and possibly most importantly, how do you do it? How do you find inspiration and such? How do you make it happen? Because I sat down with a really juicy idea not long ago and I was excited and it was incredibly hard. I deleted it, I was embarrassed. So how do you first, come up with a great idea (which you do you write such cool stuff!) and then bring it to fruition? I’ve always been a decent writer but I was really frustrated with the fic I set out to write!!!

Hey anon! Sorry for sitting on this for a while but it came in the night before a big academic conference for me, so I've had almost no time for anything, sadly.

First off, thank you so much for the compliment on my writing! A lot of the direct answers to your questions are not very satisfying, tbh. Ideas come to me from everywhere—things I watch, read, random internet things—and how I bring it to fruition mostly involves a lot of planning. I got a lot happier with my work when I started making outlines for my fics, so I always know where I want to go with the story and how I'm getting there, versus meandering around aimlessly.

I'm guessing that there was something about your idea that was particularly challenging, since you said that you've always been a decent writer but found what you produced frustrating. Since I don't know the details I'm gonna give some advice that will hopefully cover a few different aspects. And first, a short list, and then the details under the cut because I'm a wordy bitch.

Just keep writing. It can take a while to find your voice.

Get help. Seek out 'subject experts' and people who you think are good at writing the kinds of stories you want to write.

Read a lot, and broadly, especially in the genre you want to write.

1. Just keep writing. It can take a while to find your voice.

I started writing fanfic (or, re-started, because I wrote when I was young and then took a looooong break) to get the stories out of my head, and my first fics were not great lol. They were also for a rarepair and approximately 5 people read them, so there wasn't much pressure I suppose. I was just putting them on AO3 because I figured why not? And then I just kept writing, off and on for different fandoms, until the writing bug really caught me and I started producing a lot more, about five years ago. But it probably took me ~20 fics (several of which were quite long) before I'd consider my stuff to be decent. Whether you share your early works or not is up to you, but in general I'd recommend it because there's a good chance someone will love it (even if you consider it to be substandard) and that can help you feel better about your own writing. I didn't start out good at writing action, but I wrote (and read, see below) consistently in a lot of action-heavy fandoms, so I got a lot of practice. I also feel like the more I wrote, the more ideas I got, and the more unique ideas I got.

You occasionally see someone in fandom who's like "this is my first fic!" and it gets really popular or and lots of hype or whatever, but that's not the typical experience. Most of us start out writing like crap. It's ok. It gets better.

2. Get help. Seek out 'subject experts' and people who you think are good at writing the kinds of stories you want to write.

Ok, so you wrote a first draft you were disappointed in. Ask yourself what was disappointing about it? Do you feel like the beats aren't hitting, or the action is wooden, or the language is awkward? The great thing about fandom and fanfiction is that there are so many people that are willing to help out as beta readers or even just someone to talk to. I understand that getting a beta reader can seem daunting. You don't want someone to criticize your work, or it might seem embarrassing to show someone else a work you feel bad about. But if you get someone else to read it, you'll have the chance to both hear good things about it and also get advice about things you're uncertain about. People come to fandom from all walks of life and I'm a big fan of asking for help if you're writing about something you're not super familiar with. I've never actually been to therapy, so getting help from @celeritas2997 was absolutely critical for me to feel good about my couple's therapy AU. Also you can ask people for advice if they write the kinds of fics you want to write—I've had multiple people ask me for help with their action scenes, and I'm always happy to lend an eye and give advice.

Also, related to this: it's ok if you don't like your first draft. But don't delete it! Put it aside, whether you ask someone else to look at it or not, and come back to it a while later with fresh eyes. It may not be as terrible as you thought! Or maybe there are parts you still hate, but there are other parts that you can work on and revise.

3. Read a lot, and broadly, especially in the genre you want to write.

Want to write sci-fi? Read a lot of sci-fi novels. Read a lot of sci-fi AUs. Break out of your fandom and read fics in fandoms you don't know—I used to do this a lot and it was one of the most important steps in my process of finding my own voice as well as understanding how stories are built. When you read in only one fandom, you get used to a lot of the same voices and types of stories, but there is SO MUCH out there. I've been known to scroll through the 'Enemies to Lovers' tag on occasion, but also I will go into fandoms for media I know but have no strong connection to, don't want to write in but know the characters, and read those. I spent a lot of time reading X-men, Good Omens, Witcher, even MCU juggernauts like Stucky even though I don't really ship them. I know it probably sounds crazy to tell you to go read other fandoms when (I'm assuming you're RWRB) there's so much in this one, but I do think it's valuable. This one is not only for getting exposed to a lot of writing styles, but also lots of ideas. I've definitely gotten a lot of ideas that spun off from something else I read.

I feel like none of this is particularly revolutionary advice, but I hope it at least gives you (and anyone else who manages to read this far lol) some confidence to keep going and go after those stories you want to write. Everyone—me, popular fandom writers, professional authors—started out just writing a lot, and they improved over time.

Most importantly: just keep going. You can do it!!

[duskdog]

I've been approaching the riddles with the thought that Eddie is actually answering Steph's questions. I've considered each one in response to the question directly preceding it. 1. "The gift that keeps on taking. The theft that keeps on giving" is in response to "What did he say about me?"

I generally agree with something of a combination of what's been proposed before. The gift that keeps on taking is traditionally the White Elephant, a gift that causes more trouble than it's worth, and I think it's likely -- given what we know of Arthur and how he reacts to failure/being beaten (he goes on angry rants!) -- that he may have reacted the same to Steph getting in his way. Here's his child, something that's supposed to bring him joy, and all she does is fuck him over.

(He may even be, vaguely, remembering a time when she did bring him joy, maybe when she was a new baby, and it just makes him all the more bitter now. I don't know if we can fairly say that he actually cared about her even then, but I'd like to think there was a time when he and Crystal lived a semi-normal life? I'm sure it was never a healthy relationship, but they got married -- clearly once upon a time they had feelings for each other, and hopes and dreams and stuff. Maybe Arthur was happy to hold his new baby. And now look at what a pain in the ass she is.)

Regardless, something that's supposed to be seen as a blessing has been nothing but a curse -- and I could definitely see Arthur going on more than one angry rant about it to Eddie. (Last we saw him and Eddie together, after all, they were getting thrown out of the house, and it doesn't take a genius to realize that the only reason Black Canary would know they were there, or care, would be because of Steph.)

2. The bug riddle is in response to "why do you believe he had to leave clues to his crimes?".

First I have to preface this by saying that this is a weird question for Steph to ask, because as was pointed out, Arthur hasn't been leaving clues for a long time by this point. Still, it may be something that bothered Steph a lot when she was younger, and maybe still bothers her? I'm one of those folks who believes Arthur was suffering from OCD (which is never outright stated, but I believe is implied when he talks about how he was "cured" of his need to leave clues -- at the very least, this makes me think that it was psychological in some fashion, and some flavor of OCD best fits the bill, so he may have begun taking some sort of medication?), which does have a genetic component, but we've never seen any indication that Steph would be worried about anything like that, or that the thought has even ever crossed her mind, so I don't think that's a factor.

So why does it matter? I think it's just that Steph is just trying to understand her father. She's just recently found out that he's dead, and now she has all these unresolved questions, and unresolved feelings, and him leaving clues was a core part of his original costumed persona. He never changed his name from Cluemaster, either, even after he stopped leaving clues. I think the question is still important to Steph, because the clue thing had been a big part of who Arthur was, and "who Arthur was" is exactly what she's trying to resolve right now.

I think, with this riddle, Eddie may have cut straight to the heart of the matter that I just discussed -- this seemingly no-longer-relevant question that's still clearly very important to Steph even so. Digging up Arthur's metaphorical bones here makes her the bug... but which bug? Is she going to let these questions, these feelings, trap her in someone else's web -- is she going to get tangled up in the man Arthur was, in his mistakes, and let that devour her? Or is she going to cocoon in her own web instead, nurturing herself through this in a more healthy manner, and emerge better for it?

3. "Dog in a manger" is in response to "Did he ever talk about someone who hurt me? Someone named Murray?"

This one is... complicated.

To understand, it's important to note that this saying has a long, long history, and variations of it have been used in several different contexts throughout that time. At its core, it's exactly as described above -- someone who selfishly hoards something it doesn't need/can't use so that others cannot have it. But there are a lot of different shades of that thought. In one of its earliest references, it was specifically used as a commentary on pederasty -- the practice of sexual activity between a grown man and a boy/youth. And there are multiple instances later on where it's used in a similar (if less pedophiliac) fashion to comment on May/December romances -- the idea is that, when an older lover takes a much younger one, they're "wasting" the younger lover's beauty and vigor, which they can no longer hope to match themselves.

Jim Murray, a grown man, lusted after Steph, who was only 11. I don't think Eddie is trying to play games with this one, or analyze anything. I think he's just straight-up (as straight-up as the Riddler can get) answering the question. He's saying "ah yes, that guy who did that", which clearly indicates that Arthur did mention Murray.

He may also be subtly casting judgment on that, since he chose a reference that generally condemns such a thing, but it's hard to say.

4. "What day has no man lived to see?" is in response to "Do you think he wanted to give up crime?"

The actual traditional answer to this riddle is "tomorrow". No man lives to see tomorrow, because when it arrives, it immediately becomes "today".

I think this one is just really simple, and really sad. He's saying that we'll never really know. Steph herself is struggling with the idea that any possibility of her father ever changing his ways is now gone. All potential destroyed in death.

What could have, and maybe would have, happened "tomorrow" is beyond any of them. Maybe Arthur did want to give up crime, or maybe he didn't -- it doesn't matter, because he didn't live to see that day.

I think that's the answer that's most likely. However, he also might be trying to say that Arthur did want to give it up, but just didn't live to see the day when he would, if you also interpret the next riddle a certain way...

5. "The tiger envies the oxen but only understands its horns" in response to "Did he want to stop?".

Going out on a limb with this one, but given the question I think he's answering: the oxen lives peacefully on the farm, working hard but without strife or worry. The tiger envies this peaceful life, but as a creature of violence, all it understands is violence.

Eddie may be saying that Arthur did want to stop... at least on some level. Maybe a part of him did want that more peaceful life, without all the stresses associated with the life they lead as criminals.

But he would probably never achieve that, because crime/violence is all he understands.

I think, however, it's far more likely that Eddie is just following up on the previous answer, and not implying anything about what Arthur actually did or did not want to do. It doesn't really matter what Arthur wanted -- it never had a chance to happen, and frankly, it probably wasn't ever going to anyway. Because Arthur really only understands one way to be.

6. "The number you can't count on your fingers" doesn't have an associated question at all, but it's directly in response to "One straight answer and I'll leave."

Eddie struggles here before giving his riddle, and the impression I get is that it's not just because Steph has gotten violent with him at this point. What I can't decide is why he would find it difficult to continue, when he's been rapid-firing riddle responses for the entire conversation. Maybe it is just because Steph's about to beat the shit out of him and he knows it, but... I don't know. It doesn't feel that way.

As for the riddle... it doesn't really have a good traditional answer. I've seen reference to it being "11" (which is mildly interesting because that's how old Steph was when Jim Murray tried to assault her), but that doesn't actually make any sense to me -- there are tons of numbers you can't count on your fingers, not just one (or, alternately, you can count even more than that if you think beyond just counting by ones).

I think @armed-with-a-waffle-iron is probably correct here -- Eddie thinks Steph is missing the point. What she's looking for is something that can't be quantified. There are no answers. The way I interpret the previous two riddles, this one would follow naturally: none of what Steph is asking about matters. She's not going to find what she's looking for here, at the very least.

The part that throws me for a loop, actually, is the Riddler's words after Steph leaves. Steph having a question mark over her head is a pretty obvious thing to say, but why is he speculating about Arthur's "game"? It seems to imply that he thinks/knows that Arthur is alive... but even if that were true, why would he assume the man's grief-stricken daughter was part of any sort of plan?

I don't think they actually ever follow up on this, so I guess we'll never really know.

I'm gonna have a go at the riddles which The Riddler throws at Stephanie Brown in Robin (1993) #113. @a-bad-case-of-the-stephs I'm hoping you can help me out, haven't actually read Robin in well over a year.

It's a gift that keeps on taking. It's a theft that keeps on giving. Having a child is the "gift" and when Arthur was imprisoned or estranged, his child was "stolen" from him. When Stephanie came into Arthur's life, he saw her as a "white elephant", but when he no longer had her, he became driven by the idea of her.

One bug is wrapped in a web, therein to die. Another bug is wrapped in its own web, there to be reborn. In a sense, being tangled in a web can be fatal but it can also indicate introspection and growth. Arthur's obsession with leaving clues were often his undoing so will Stephanie preoccupation with her father be her's or will it actually represent reflection and change?

There is a dog in the manger, but it cannot subsist on hay. A manger is a feeder for livestock, typically holding hay; which dogs do not eat. A "dog in a manger" is a person who spitefully refuses to let someone else benefit from (or let go of) something for which he or she has no personal use (dictionary.com). But dogs cannot subsist on hay and the livestock cannot eat with the dog in the manger. If the dog doesn't relent or change, then everyone loses. Stephanie is the dog and her memory of her father is the manger she cannot let go of.

What day of the week has no man ever lived to see? Judgement day. You have to be dead to see it. And they're both very much alive.

The Tiger envies the Oxen but only understands its horns. The Tiger envies the Oxen's power but it only understands power through the language of violence. Steph easily outmatches The Riddler in a fight yet is confused how he still holds all the cards although she attacks him because she only speaks the language of violence.

I am the number you cannot count on your fingers. Edit: he’s saying Steph’s missing the point; you can’t count him on your fingers, he’s not that kind of number.

Would love some input.

[shamelesslymkp]

I kind of want to know what the fuck kind of fight went on while I was sitting on that one couch as a kid, because in flashbacks it's like, always that one couch, but I have no memory of what was actually happening just the frozen feeling and emotions.

I mean. I'm guessing actually if it was bad enough to become like. the go-to flashback, it maybe isn't something I want to remember, but I still would LIKE to.

I don't even remember when exactly we had that couch!!

[heartscrypt]

the web - fear of manipulation and lost control made manifest

[bunnieswithknives]

hey in ur peri animatic: (https://youtu.be/OCqlRuDaXYU?si=K52WDu_vw9rg7chz) that I have been permanently obsessed over since today and have watched about 20 times by now so much that I have drawn & posted stuff based on it what was that partial bug form peri had?

I haven’t watched either of the show btw so if it’s explained in the show please tell me plsssss

OK, SO the bug thing is not technically canon to the series. It's based on my own headcanons for fairy biology, but i do have justifications for it!! Fairies have very strong shape-shifting abilities, so it would make sense that the form they show to humans isn't necessarily their true form(not to mention extreme that mimicry is very common in insects). And you want to know the visible traits almost every fairy has in common? Being very small with Insect-like wings.

The fact that their humanoid form isn't their true form in actually confirmed in the show! Cosmo and Wanda are revealed to look like biblically accurate pseudo-angels in the museum episode. (I say pseudo angels because the Flaming Sword of Eden is only debatably sentient and I don't think is considered an angel. Ophanim are also debatably not angels because they don't have wings (sorry for the angel tangent I like angels))

So wouldn't their true forms be angelic then? Well, yes. But I like bugs so. Also I have more headcanons to justify myself. I like to think that they have both a true-true form (incomprehensible to the human brain, probably exists mostly in a dimension invisible to us, that looks how we imagine biblically accurate angels), and a fairy form (which is visible to humans but is naturally very insect like and tends to scare people). So, in order to interact with humans, they have to learn to shapeshift into a humanoid form but will occasionally slip if they get too relaxed/aren't careful, hence the mandibles coming out when he yawns!

The reason they struggle so much more with human forms than the animals or objects they typically turn into is that, well, they aren't trying to convince those animals or objects. The more human they try to look, the harder it is to keep up convincingly. If you turn into a really uncanny squirrel, only other squirrels will notice. If you turn into a really uncanny human, they form a lynch mob and burn you at the stake.

[citrine-elephant]

still a dog, but uglier!