#like... I want to expand on that

[dorminchu]

bh&e annie's arc goes from "you'd die for your beliefs, I wouldn't" to "I'd lay down my life if it would spare yours". and post

[monkesupreme]

ref

a satisfactory answer for Selina

[parisoonic]

pals drinking together (hand practice that got out of control)

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[nidbaesenpai]

Paper flowers seem beyond you now but you can always go back to the basics, paper cranes are easy enough...

[cosmicdenro]

theres no going back for me im afraid

[dykegrell]

Sebaciel MADK au <3

[queermasculine]

btw if there are no trans-friendly queer events in your area you can just organize some with your friends if you have the gumption, just went to one that was clearly only held together by thumb tacks and dedication and it was still awesome and the place was packed, like obviously i'm not telling you to launch into it with zero thought if you have no previous experience with event organizing (the people who attend will be putting a lot of trust in you) and if you can't do it safely then don't do it, i'm just saying there's a huge need for these spaces in the world and if you know how to get the word out the people will come, even if it's just a basement with some tables for trans ppl to sell their arts and crafts or a couple of blankets in a park where you read each other poetry, the people will come and it can be a really beautiful thing

[tsuutarr]

Perfect. Pristine. Pure.

That is what angels are. That is what Finley should be – what he is.

So, it’s really no surprise that he’s chosen as a guardian angel – your guardian angel. After all, only those who are the most pristine, the most perfect, the most pure can be a guardian angel. Anything less and corruption will be too easy. But Finley will be fine – he’s the pinnacle of what an angel should be, after all.

And now, he’s so excited to watch over you, to ensure that your life goes a little smoother than it has been.

As he watches over you, making sure you’re safe, he can’t help the affection that blooms inside of him. You’re someone he’s taking care of, which means that you’re his. You’re safe right now because he’s helping you. An umbrella on a rainy day, a pencil on exam days, a timely bus on busy days… he’s making your life so much easier! He can’t help the surge of pride that lights his heart.

He’s always so vigilant, watching out for you in any way that he possibly can. Whether you’re eating properly or sleeping properly concerns him greatly. It won’t do if you don’t take care of yourself.

But that doesn’t mean he wants other people to take care of you. Bitter vines of envy crawl up his throat whenever you thank someone else. He’s the one that’s doing most of the work, you know. Those thorns of envy only continue to bloom as he watches you laugh and talk and interact with other people.

Why can’t he interact with you? He’s the one that’s always watching you and taking care of you. Greed floods inside him as his desires fester. More and more and more – he’s greedy for your attention. For you. 

So, really, it’s no wonder that his thoughts become so twisted and wrathful. You can’t see him even though he gives you all of him, so why should those pesky flies around you get to bask in your presence? It’s not fair. It’s not fair. 

And it’s really not fair that you’re so pretty, so lovely. You always shine so bright, the epitome of everything Finley loves and adores. Watching you makes his skin flush with so much desire.

But he shouldn’t be feeling this way – oh, no. No pure, perfect, pristine angel should be feeling this way. Only those that have been corrupted by the world succumb to their desires. By the time Finley realizes this, he’s already in too deep. He’s already been colored by all shades of you.

So, there’s really only one answer, right?

Now, he’ll live only for you. He’ll make sure you realize just how devoted he is to you – just how much he belongs to you. Just how much you belong to him. You’re the one who taught him all these new emotions, after all. You’re the one who made him the way he is.

To him, you are his everything.

For you, he will kneel.

For him, for you, he will worship you and only you.

[todayisafridaynight]

[bbuzz28]

Memories

Old man Fiddlestan, my beloved-and what's this? It could be semi-canon compliant :O ?!?! Woof- this is one of the saddest things I have ever written. I know some of you gremlins (affectionate) love that sort of thing, but I don't. I like really really don't. This is my comfort ship, so I don't even know where this came from other than trying to figure out how they *could* work in canon. Truthfully though, I prefer my Fiddlestan heavy on the comfort when it comes to the "hurt/comfort" genre. This is my only “angsty” (i.e. no immediate happy ending) Notes-app fics, so don't get used to this level of sad from me lol.

“Stan?” an oddly familiar voice called. Mr. Mystery, Stan Pines, glanced up from the flyers he was organizing and found that Old Man McGucket stood in the doorway of his front door. The last tour of the day had just left, it was dinnertime, and he was exhausted. Stan rolled his eyes as he unfurled his tie, wishing Soos was still there to escort the crazy old man off his property. No matter what he did, the old hillbilly always managed to find his way back to the Shack. “Sweet Moses McSuckit, what are you doing in here? Shoo, scat, or whateva will get rid of ya.” Hearing no movement, he looked at the man again and found he was standing erect. His blue eyes were the clearest he had seen them in no less than a decade.

          Wait, what did he call- oh. Oh no.

“Stan…ley? Did I…did I do somethin’ wrong?” the other man asked, his hands twisted in knots in front of him. Memories flashed through Stan’s mind; Ford falling through the portal, Fiddleford finding him passed out in the lab, working together to bring Ford home again…being together. Being happy. They had been happy, if just for a little while, hadn’t they?

Then there was the cult, and his discovery of the damn memory gun that had finally ruined everything they ever built. He took a hesitant step forward, a thousand thoughts roaring in his mind at once. “Fidds? Wha-what do you remember?” A bandaged hand snaked up and rubbed over the faded scar on the side of his head “I…don’t rightly know. Did we…I think we had a fight? I just woke up in the…in the dump. N’ I don’t have any shoes. Do ya know why my arm is in a cast?” Fiddleford looked so lost.

Stan knew in his heart that all of this was fleeting- “clarity” would hit Fiddleford every few years after he had finally wiped his mind of himself. Almost like his brain was trying to jumpstart itself back together. The first time they thought it was a miracle but…it didn’t last. It just started a trend that would follow them both for the next almost thirty years. Fiddleford would seemingly “wake up” and be lucid for a few weeks in the beginning, then eventually only a matter of days. It had been so long since the last time that Stan would wager, they only had maybe a few hours together if he was lucky.

The last time Fiddleford was himself…they had fought. Stanley thought he had figured the only way Fiddleford could stay; he needed to remember. Remember everything he had ever forgotten. At the time, Fiddleford had been unwilling to try. He didn’t think he could handle it; he knew he had forgotten what he had for a reason.

Stanley had gotten as close to begging as he ever had in his life since surviving Tijuanna, and when it had no effect…Stanley had told Fiddleford to leave and never come back. He had left that night, and by the next day he had faded away again. After a while, Stan thought his last words had been the final nail in the coffin that was Fiddleford’s mind. He carried that weight along with every other mistake he had ever made. But here he was. Fiddleford. His Fiddleford.

He took a deep breath before he opened his arms up. “Hey, don’t worry, it doesn’t matter. I’m right here.” Fiddleford rushed through the doorway, melting into Stanley’s open arms. “I went away again, didn’t I?” Stan could feel Fiddleford’s tears soaking into his chest, his own whispering at the edges of his eyes. Yes, and you will leave again. You will leave me and I will be alone all over again, you fucking asshole. “Hey cowboy, didn’t I just say not t’ worry about any a’ that? You’re here now, n' that’s what matters. You’re…you’re home.” A haggard laugh vibrated through the smaller man’s chest into Stanley’s own. “I know I keep tellin’ ya, tellin’ me not t’ worry is like” “…tellin’ a fish t’ stop swimmin’; I know Fidds, I know.” Fuck was really the only conscious thought that went through his head as he held his one-time lover. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, again.

Fiddleford looked up, eyes wide and searching Stan’s face. “How long do ya think we have?” Stan shook his head, unwilling to lie even if it eventually wouldn’t matter because he wouldn’t remember. You’ve always been the only person I couldn’t lie to. “I dunno, it’s been…a while. Probably not very long.” Fiddleford closed his eyes before he said “I need ya t’ know somethin’, Stanley.” Stan started to shake his head. “Fidds, you don’t have t-” The look on the other man’s face shut Stan right up-he had always had that ability. Stan wished he didn’t miss it as much as he did. “I need ya to know that even when I’m not here…I miss you. The part of me that’s somewhere in here-” A weathered hand tapped the side of his head to emphasize his point “ misses you. I’m just so sorry, Stanley. Sorry that I’m a coward. I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to be here all the time…but I’ll never stop tryin’. I’ll always try n’ come home to ya.”

Stan thought of the thousands of times he had chased Old Man McGucket, the neat little character that Stan had to compartmentalize his Fiddleford into when he wasn’t himself, out of the Shack. How many times he had found him curled up like a cat on the back porch. How every time they “met”, McGucket would say how nice Stan was or how good he felt to be around him “for some reason.” How many odds and ends McGucket would gift Stan from the dump for exhibits at the Mystery Shack with a large smile and nothing substantial behind his eyes.

It would be so much easier if he would stop trying to come back. Maybe the hole in Stan’s heart the size of the sweet, certifiably insane man would scab over. How many times had Stanley mourned him? How many times was he willing to hurt himself? They were now nearing their sixties, how long was he really willing to do this song and dance?

What’s one more time? he softly thought, his hand coming up to tenderly cup the grizzled face of Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. Mad scientist, friend, and unfortunately for them both…the love of his life.

“I miss you too, Fidds.”

[jinxedshapeshifter]

klavier being nervous about serenading apollo because serenading someone is more personal than singing at a concert for thousands of people, so he takes apollo to his apartment hoping it'll alleviate his anxiety.

cut to apollo and klavier at klavier's apartment and klavier's hands are shaking before he even strums the first chord and apollo has to help him relax but once klavier starts he's incapable of stopping and starts wondering why he ever had anxiety about it in the first place, because apollo's watching him with so much affection in his eyes and god why didn't he do this sooner, apollo's joining in now and klavier's the happiest he's been in years

[cheercake]

screeeeewwww it... amphibia x MD. its MY autism and I get to choose the AU!!!!

[dawn-moths]

thinking about tomura being tenko’s older brother where they’re perhaps ten years apart. you and tomura first meet when you’re both eighteen, start hanging out as friends, but you’re only vaguely aware he has a sibling when sometimes he says he can’t hang out that particular weekend because he has to “babysit the brat”.

after a while, you’re able to convince him to show you a picture of his little brother. you’re curious if they look alike, and other than a few features like their eye and hair color, you can easily imagine how tomura looked at that age, too. him and tenko look startling similar to each other even with that many years between them.

“sorry…” tomura grumbles through the other side of your phone call one afternoon. “tenko’s soccer practice got canceled and now my mom’s making me watch him while she’s at work.”

he sounds annoyed, almost embarrassed by the fact that, even at eighteen, he has to obey his mother’s requests, but is ultimately contrite about his last minute change of plans having to effect you so often as well.

“it’s ok,” you assure him with your usual chipper tone, fully understanding the responsibility he has. “but, y’know…” you remind him, “if it’s ok, i could always come over and we could hang out while you’re watching your brother?”

you try and hide your eagerness the best you can. the truth is, you’ve been wanting to meet the mini-tomura for quite some time now. tomura always describes him as annoying, as a needy little brat that whines until he gets his way, but the words are never spit with scorn and there’s something soft in his eyes that always gives away the fact that he actually does care.

tomura usually just brushes off your offer, promises to reschedule with you, so you’re prepared to be let down, but that time, after a short pause of contemplation, tomura clears his throat and says, “i mean, yeah, ok. that’s fine i guess, if you want…”

“ok!” you beam, already grabbing your keys. “i’ll be over soon then!” you hang up, grab your bag, and jump in your car.

any time you’ve been over to tomura’s house (which has been few and far between, since your place tends to be the designated hangout given you usually have the house to yourself most of the time) tenko hasn’t been there. he’s been at his aforementioned soccer practice or a friend’s house or some other activity that’s kept you from meeting him.

you’re so curious it’s overwhelming, and as you pull up to tomura’s house he’s already perched on the front step, gazing at his phone until he hears your car approaching. you park by the curb and scamper up to greet him, giving him a hug as per usual, and though he’d sounded sort of defeated on the phone earlier, seeing your smiling face now makes him feel a little lighter.

“hey,” you grin, momentarily holding both his hands in your own down between your close bodies. sometimes you're reminded how adverse to any kind of physical touch tomura used to be when the two of you had first met. even something as simple as a light, playful nudge would make him flinch, cause him to keep a bit more of a distance for the rest of the day.

but over time, you're not sure exactly why but, something changed.

and it was actually him who came to comfort you that time. you'd been upset, had planned on staying in your room alone until the ache decided to pass. but then you and tomura had started texting. he'd sensed something was wrong so he'd called. he'd heard the heartbreak in your voice, told you he was on his way, and not ten minutes later he was sitting beside you on your bed with his arm around you as you'd talked to him about what had happened while you'd cried.

ever since then, he'd gotten more comfortable with your casual, familiar touches, though he still found it easier to touch you than to be touched by you.

“hey,” he returns, then adds with that hint of that sarcastic humor you’ve come to love so much, “you ready to meet the little demon?”

you laugh, unable to not be amused by his melodrama. “oh, c’mon,” you say, lightly batting at his arm. “he’s only eight, he can’t be that bad!”

all tomura offers in response is a muttered, “yeah, well…” before inviting you inside.

as soon as you walk through the door, a little dog comes bounding towards you, running in energetic circles and barking as his tail wags with both curiosity and excitement. you proceed with caution around the corgi, wanting to reach down to pet him but hesitating around the unfamiliar animal.

the few times you'd been over before, tomura had let his dog out into the yard so he wouldn't end up jumping all over you, so this is the first time you're meeting him up close instead of catching glances of him through a window.

"ugh, sorry..." tomura mutters as he reaches down and scoops his dog up, the canine's tail continuing to wag even more once he's secure in tomura's arms. "i forgot to let him out back..." he then seems to realize something, his eyes widening a bit as he does a double take back at you and asks with a little more guilt in his tone, "you're not afraid of dogs, are you...?"

you wave off his concern with a swish of your hand and a crooked smile. you tell him you're not, you were just a little surprised is all.

"it's mon-chan, right?" you ask, slowly reaching your hand out for the dog to sniff.

"yeah. mon-chan," tomura confirms, readjusting his grip on the wriggling animal. "he's super friendly. just, well..." he gives a half shrug as a small grin cracks at one corner of his mouth. "he can be a lot."

"hey, mon-chan..." you coo, your tone turned sugary sweet, and the dog gives the back of your hand a few friendly licks. "awwww, you're cute, aren't you? what a good boy..."

but before you can dote over the dog too much, something catches your attention from the corner of your eye, causing you to shift your view towards the living room that sits off to the side of the main entrance.

and, lo and behold, there he is.

little tenko and his sweet little face that reminds you so much of the older brother you’ve become so fond of.

“hiiiii,” you greet the little boy with a soft voice and a smile. you know kids can often be wary when meeting new people, so when tenko just stares at you with those big, dark eyes you’re not surprised.

“hey,” tomura grumbles to his sibling. “don’t be rude. say hello.”

tenko then seems to snap out of his cautious trance, looking at his brother then back to you before saying, “is this the girl you’re always talking about, nii-san?”

tomura feels his cheeks heat and his ears burn as he sputters out something that sounds like half an excuse, half a scolding before telling tenko to go watch tv and behave. tenko obeys without any trouble and as you pass by through the living room you can see a popular superhero movie playing on the screen.

you travel down the short hall to where tomura’s bedroom lays at the very end, and once the door is shut he seems to become a little less tense.

“i’ll need to make him lunch in about an hour,” he tells you. “but until then…” he flashes you a suggestive smirk and you know exactly what’s coming.

it's one of your favorite things about hanging out together, the way it relieves the tension, lets you two unleash parts of yourself that you rarely let other people see. and tomura's been surprisingly good at it from the start. you wouldn't have guessed at a glance how skilled those hands could be, how coordinated given his usually lax, nonchalant nature...

he tosses you a game controller and you catch it with ease. “wha’dya say we pick up where we left off?” he asks, a hint of darkness to his voice that you now recognize as cold, hard competition.

you feel a look of confidence spreading across your face at the challenge and you reply in a tone befitting of a worthy opponent, “you’re on.”

the next hour passes quickly as you play your guys' favorite co-op game together, leaving you just two points from tying with tomura, and amidst your laughter and playful taunting, there’s a slight squeak as the door creaks on its hinges, little tenko peeking through the thin crack and observing, letting out a quiet gasp when he realizes he's been spotted.

“i’ll be out in a sec,” tomura tells his brother, already knowing what that expectant look means. tenko seems to linger, casting you another glance, and you convince tomura to pause the game.

“c’mon,” you murmur, giving him that guilt-tripping stare that he hates you for being so good at. “let’s go make him lunch and then we can finish this after.”

and it’s that suggestion of we, that suggestion of together, that has him pausing the game and setting his controller aside, standing from his bed to open the door to his little brother and following him down the hall to the kitchen, you close behind.

tomura takes out a tupperware from the fridge and has just popped it in the microwave when his phone buzzes from his pocket. "it's my mom," he states. "gimme one sec." he steps out of the kitchen and begins to wander towards the living room, his voice growing more distant as you hear him pick up the call. you hope everything is ok. but, for now, it's just you and tenko standing in the kitchen, the eight-year-old gazing up at you with that big, curious stare while the microwave counts down the seconds behind him.

"can i have lemonade?" he asks once you meet his eyes and give him a friendly grin.

the microwave beeps and you go to take his lunch out of it. "sure," you answer. but then, a little bit more suspiciously, you ask, "does tomura usually let you have lemonade?"

tenko nods, not giving anything away as you finish plating the other items of his lunch while tomura remains on the phone in the living room. from where you stand, if you glance just slightly around the entryway, you can see him sitting on the couch, leaning forward a bit while he continues to speak with his voice low. you just hope his mom won't be mad that he invited you over while she wasn't home.

it's not like you hadn't been over before when his house was empty, but given this is the first time you've met his little brother, you just hope you're not overstepping somehow. not to mention that, unbeknownst to you, tomura's mom had begun badgering him about meeting you before the end of summer. as soon as she'd caught onto the fact that her eldest son had been hanging out regularly with a girl, she couldn't help but become curious as to what kind of girl she might be.

a bit distracted by your thoughts, you just nod and say to tenko, "ok, sure, you can have some lemonade then."

once his chicken tenders and apple slices and animal crackers are promptly arranged on his plate and a glass of lemonade is poured, you carry tenko's lunch to the table and take a seat across from him while you wait for tomura to conclude his conversation, trying to keep your growing anxiety at bay at any possible problems that may be arising due to that phone call.

you try to listen in, though mostly hear the standard, vague, "yeah. uh-huh. alright," responses from tomura until—

"are you my brother's girlfriend?"

you blink at tenko, taken aback as you sputter over a response to that, wondering for a moment if you merely imagined it. then, once your nervous giggling and bashfulness begins to dissipate, you clear your throat and say, "did tomura tell you that?"

tenko takes another bite from one of his apple slices and says, "no. but he talks about you all the time. he says you're his friend, but i hear him talking to his friends at night when he thinks no one is listening."

you stare at tenko with an intensity you don't realize you're wearing on your face at first, the suspense eating you alive. eventually, when tenko doesn't seem like he's going to offer more, you lower your voice to something closer to a whisper, your gaze darting back to where you can barely see tomura sitting in the other room, still on the phone, and ask tenko, "what do you hear him say?"

tenko, his big eyes moving up and to the right, contemplates that for a moment as he finishes chewing and swallowing his next bite, then tells you, "i don't know exactly. i can't hear what his other friends are saying, but one time i heard nii-san say that you were special." you feel your cheeks heat and again glance over at the back of the boy you've become so fond of so quickly. "he said something about not wanting to ruin anything," tenko continues, reciting the words as if he doesn't quite grasp their meaning. but then, tenko's mouth splits into a mischievous little grin that reminds you so much of tomura, it's honestly a little scary. he says, seeming to find amusement in his next words, "one time, i heard him say you were like his guardian angel or something..."

a childish little giggle bubbles up from tenko's lips, almost as if he finds a cruel kind of pleasure in knowing his older brother's biggest secret, but this information just makes your heart all the more warmer towards tomura.

you'd spent the last couple of months suffering inside your own head about it all— about whether you really meant something to tomura, about if he cared for you as much as you did for him or if you were simply just convenient and would be discarded come any significant distance put between the two of you—

suddenly tenko seems to retract, perhaps sensing your discomfort, so you take the opportunity to clear the nerves and giddiness from your throat and change the subject.

"so, tenko," you begin, trying to straighten out your crooked smile. "tomura tells me you play soccer. do you like it?"

tenko gives a shrug at first, taking another bite of an apple slice that's had the skin peeled and cut to resemble rabbit ears. then he says, "i guess so. but i like watching movies more."

you ask him what kinds of movies he likes, recalling the superhero blockbuster that had been playing on the tv when you'd first arrived, and feel a spark of endearment as tenko's face lights up as he delves into telling you all about his favorite characters and their cool powers.

"wow! you sure know a lot!" you commend him with a beaming smile, and at the compliment tenko's face begins to turn a little red. "do you and tomura ever watch movies together?"

"not really..." the younger sibling sulks, pouting as he peels the remainder of the skin from his apple slice. "nii-san is usually playing video games in his room and my mom says i'm not allowed to play them because they're too violent..." then, before you can tell him that's too bad but one day he'll be old enough to play the same games as his brother, tenko perks back up and tells you, "but sometimes... sometimes nii-san lets me into his room on nights our mom works late and we play mario kart together."

you have to force yourself to stifle a laugh at that. i mean, it's just completely adorable, isn't it? the thought of tomura, who tries so hard to play it off like he couldn't care less about his little brother, like he's nothing more than a nuisance to him, a pest, an inconvenience, does actually take the time to bond with him anyway. at least, when no one's looking.

you tell tenko you also like mario kart, then lean in and add in a playful whisper, "but i bet he doesn't tell you about all the times i've beaten him, does he?"

tenko regards you with blatant skepticism. "no way," he says, as if he's never been more sure about anything in his life. "there's no way you can beat nii-san. he's too good! no one can beat him!"

now you laugh openly, causing tomura to glance over his shoulder just to make sure there isn't too much chaos ensuing in his brief absence, but tenko just looks confused.

"well," you reply, amusement trailing off the end of your words, "he is pretty good. i'll give him that. but unbeatable..." you quirk up one brow and wear a slight smirk for a moment before allowing your features to fall back to normal. then you tell tenko, "just give it time. one day i bet you'll be able to beat him. i believe in you!"

"you behavin' in here?" tomura suddenly appears in the entryway, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he casts his little brother a warning look.

"your girlfriend says she beat you in mario kart, is that true?" tenko blurts out, and you have to force yourself not to tease tomura when his cheeks visibly darken at the mention of you being his girlfriend.

"everything ok?" you ask to defuse the situation a little and put tomura back at ease, but then his look of bashfulness morphs into a look of slight surprise at the sight you and his little brother getting along so well.

quickly, he snaps out of it, and replies, "yeah. she was just checking in," before seeming to notice something awry about the picture here, specifically on tenko's side of the table.

"hey," tomura lightly scolds his brother. "you know mom only lets you have lemonade on the weekends." you immediately begin to apologize, saying that when he asked you thought it would be ok, and feel embarrassed that you let yourself be manipulated by a child, but tomura assures you it's fine before returning to interrogate his little brother who, admittedly, looks very guilty now.

"did you lie to her?" he presses, and for a moment you're afraid he'll make tenko cry. tenko denies it at first and you observe with growing anxiety as the argument between them ramps up a bit.

it isn't until you reach over to place a hand over tomura's, which has been firmly planted on the tabletop as he leans in over his brother, that he seems to simmer down a little.

"one time will be ok, won't it?" you ask him, not wanting to ruin the moment you'd just shared with tenko, feeling like you'd gained a little more of his trust. you use your secret weapon, the one thing tomura can never say no to whenever he sees it— that sweet, pleading stare you give as you gaze up at him, the look that makes his stomach flutter and his head haze over with thoughts he'll be revisiting later once he's alone.

"fine," he concedes, some of the rigidity that had captured his limbs leaving him as he steps away from the table. he looks directly at his brother and concludes with a warning, "but just this once."

you're relieved, and tenko appears to have returned to his prior state of unfazed contentment, but tomura still seems impatient about something.

"c'mon," he says, beckoning you up from the table to follow him back to his room. "we still have a game to finish."

you give tenko a parting smile before humming out an amused, lilting little note, trailing after tomura as you chirp out a mischievous remark of, "are you gonna actually help us win this time? or am I gonna have to carry the entire round again?"

he lets out an incredulous, albeit amused, chuckle, surprising you by throwing his arm around your shoulders and tugging you in closer to his side so you almost stumble down the hallway. "oh, just you wait..." brazen, he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and dark, now allowing the butterflies in your tummy to unfurl their delicate wings and take flight, "by the time we're done with this round, the other team isn't even gonna know what hit 'em..."

and, with that, you once again return to the confined space of his only slightly disheveled bedroom, the tv screen still bearing the scores from your last game. although, admittedly, as you continue to sit side by side, knees nudging one another here and there when things start to get a little too desperate or rowdy, you can't help but find yourself a little more distracted and self-conscious than usual.

because you swear you catch tomura glancing at you in between rounds from the corner of your eye, something softer, something warmer than you're quite used to possessing his crimson gaze.

it's a side to him you've rarely gotten to see, but you hope he'll learn to wear it a little more openly around you as time goes on.

besides, when his little brother had asked if you were his girlfriend, he hadn't quite said no, now had he?

[forgettable-au]

In a Deltarune au of THIS au, would the "little brother" in the house trousling bones be Papyrus or Wingdings?

Okay this is an old ask and I was gonna answer with some drawings but ...

I DON'T HAVE A DESIGN FOR WINGDINGS THERE!!!! SO!!! I CAN'T...

Still, I'll try to answer :D

YES, PRECISELY

I DO HAVE A DELTARUNE AU OF THIS AU

And in this AU of my AU, the reason why we don't see Papyrus or hear his name is because it's actually still Wingdings lmao

Turns out he didn't shatter across time and space here

I need to make a design so I can draw some of these ideas but, uh, I'll explain the basics quickly!

So! Wingdings and Sans are still twins, Sans just likes to be annoying and call 'Dings his younger brother (which is something that actually does happen in the main forgettable-au lmao)

They're a bit older (I just generally hc everyone in deltarune is a bit older than their undertale counterparts) and they just moved to hometown from the city! That's were they used to work! Before Wingdings got fired for unnamed reasons! Also, Wingdings is using a fake name "Roman" !

And yeah!

Wingdings and Sans are currently in the middle of a fight? They're not on the best terms, Wingdings didn't want to move to hometown and refuses to get out of the house

Wingdings is not doing great! He has no job, no friends, he just moved out of the city he didn't want to leave, and there's other stuff too!!

Sans isn't doing that great either but he's trying to do okay! He sees hometown as a new opportunity and a he's already making friends with the locals! He's trying to get Wingdings to do that as well, it's not working!

Why would Sans ask Kris to hang out with his brother, a grown man? I DON'T KNOW, BUT LIKE, THAT'S WEIRD EVEN WITH REGULAR PAPYRUS! (I know a lot of people think Paps will be a teenager in deltarune, but idk, that feels weird?? Why would Toby make so many characters older and then Papyrus younger??? It's still a possibility tho... and it would be interesting to see)

You know how in forgettable-au they both still use proper grammar before the incident? That doesn't work here (because Sans in deltarune is clearly using lowercase and I can't just change that), sooooo... they both use constant lowercase!

Or I could just ignore that one theory of uppercase and lowercase and accept it's probably just a stylistic choice....but I won't do that............

And yeah that's basically it! :D

Imagining this au of my au as a thing to happen in game is very funny, because if something like that actually happened I don't think the fandom would ever recover.... just imagine the chaos...

For anyone that might ask this:

Why would the voice at the start of the game react to us naming our character Papyrus if Papyrus isn't in the game?

My explanation for that is: Well, if theories are correct and that voice IS Gaster, he probably knows that we know Papyrus from playing undertale! He's acknowledging that... not the fact that Papyrus is in deltarune...but there might be someone similar we can meet, he knows who we expect

Okay that's it! That's the AU of my AU! I really want to make art for it

But I seriously have no idea how Wingdings would look...

I'm just...very bad at designing regular clothes.....

[hellcatsandcars]

not to engage with top/bottom discourse in the year of our lord 2024, but how on earth are people sleeping on dom bottom viktor and sub top jayce