#lol when you’re a summer baby but overheat easily

[parasolladyansy]

Seasonal Ansy (feat. Sora!)

(Click to zoom!) Bit of a nostalgia trip: I’ve been wanting to update this little seasonal chibi series I made for a while now. ^_^

As we (in the northern hemisphere lol) approach winter, I’m reminded how much I really love the changing of seasons. Every season has something about it that makes it special & beautiful, something that BW conveyed so very well.

They didn’t even just stop at the aesthetic (which was lovely on its own) - it had a very dynamic soundtrack that would change slightly depending on the season (eg. flutes in the spring, piano in the autumn), certain wild Pokémon would change (eg. Tranquill fly south for the winter, & are replaced by Vanillish), & so much more. If we ever get a BW3 (or if we just get a BW remake - HD2D ala Octopath Traveler, please!), I dearly hope they bring this very special mechanic back. ❄️🪻🌻🌾

What’s your favorite season? My favorite’s Spring, & my least favorite is Summer (if I had an ability, “Dry Skin” is definitely up there =7=)

[toosicktoocare]

I5 or N2 with Sick from the bingo card? ☺️

Ya’ll already know I’m going to go with I5 for Dick, lol. 

I5: Overheating in a Cold Climate/Dick Grayson

“Really, Dick?” 

Dick’s hands smooth over his scarf, tugging and tucking to ensure his neck is protected against Gotham’s merciless winter winds. He’s careful and diligent, only meeting Jason’s narrow eyes once he’s sure there’s no inch of skin on his neck exposed. 

“It’s cold,” Dick says, tone so innocently matter-of-fact that Jason can feel a twitch tugging at his eye. 

“You’ll overheat,” Jason sighs, eyes slowig dragging up and down Dick’s bundled form, from the apparent fleece-lined sweat pants, to the multiple top layers hidden underneath a black puffer jacket, and on up to the ridiculous scarf littered with small, yellow Batman symbols and the black GCPD beanie. 

“No, I’ll stay safe and warm,” Dick throws his hands out, twirling easily on his heel, and Jason considers bailing, walking back to his bike and leaving Dick to his own, severely dumb devices. 

“We’re jogging, Dick Butt. Exercise. That’s what keeps you warm.” He steps forward, knocking his fist lightly against Dick’s forehead. “Or are all those layers squeezing out your last, remaining brain cell?” 

“Must have let Timmers borrow it.” 

Dick’s smile, Jason knows, is frustratingly contagious, so much that he’s chomping down onto his inner cheek to keep from matching that triple-watt grin. 

“Well, luckily running doesn’t require a lot of thinking.” 

“And luckily I have my Jay Bird here to make sure I’m good.” 

Dick’s smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows, a beam that could light the entire street, and Jason groans loudly into his cupped palms. 

“Just try and keep up.” Jason starts into a light jog, and Dick’s matching his speed in an instant until they’ve worked around a weirdly perfect balance. 

“Did you forget who you’re talking to, baby bro?” 

***

Dick feels... weird, his mind supplies unhelpfully. He can’t work around a different adjective because his current symptoms all seem to just fall under weird. He’s sweating, which, in hindsight, isn’t all that odd considering he and Jason just crossed over mile three, but it’s a lot, buckets even. It pools at his hairline and slips down his temples seemingly endlessly, soaking the edges of his beanie and down to his scarf.

Still, this isn’t his first run by any means, and he’s run against the suffocating, wet heat that comes with Gotham summers, so he’s familiar with sweat. What he’s not familiar with is the sudden jackhammer of a headache that drums across his forehead, bringing with it twisting, hot bouts of nausea and unfocused vision.

He starts to lag behind, focused more on planting each foot in front of the other and less on his and Jason’s near-constant need to pasively compete with one another. But even that gets hard. He stumbles a few times, catching his footing thanks to years of practice, but then he stumbles hard enough to fall to one knee because he can’t get a grip on his breath, not with hot, pressing heat pushing against his lungs and slamming across his face. He makes to stand, to swallow back every weird feeling plaguing him, but his legs tremble the second he’s putting his full weight, and he falls again. 

***

Jason’s slow to stop running, and he’s got an entire brag-colored retort hot on his tongue when he finally spins on his heel. He sucks in a deep breath, pulls forth his best, sly smile, but Dick’s not behind him; he’s not slowly running to catch up, either. He’s just... gone.

Jason sighs loudly and starts back the way he came, going for annoyed, put out even, but when he spots Dick down on one knee, an all-too familiar yet all-too unwelcome feeling of fear slams into him like ice water that can give the Gotham River a run for its money. 

“Dick?” He quickens back into a jog until he’s dropping to a crouch in front of Dick and waving away a few passerbys who stopped out of concern. 

“He’s my brother. I’ve got him.” It’s hard to keep the growl from his tone, hard when the protective jolt sparks down his spine and bleeds into his muscles and voice. 

“Jay?” 

Dick’s voice is alarmingly breathless, apparent even through the one-syllable word, and Jason’s moving on trained instinct, ripping at Dick’s scarf until he’s dropping it to the ground and pressing two fingers to the dip above Dick’s collar bone. Dick’s pulse is a weak, rapid flutter pattering against his fingertips, and his skin is uncomfortably warm and damp. 

When he’s done counting, Jason drops his hand, a second, longer sigh dragging up his throat. “You overheated.”

Dick’s eyes, though sunken and exhausted, seemingly light up briefly before giving way to a pained frown, and he drops his head to Jason’s shoulder, weakly clutching at Jason’s arm. 

“I overheated,” he repeats, and Jason has to physically swallow the four different versions of ‘I told you so’ that immediately swell in his chest. “You might actually be the biggest idiot I know.” 

“Don’t be mean,” Dick groans, free arm curling around his stomach. “I feel bad.” 

Sympathy isn’t something Jason goes for, but he supposes he’s full of surprises today as he doesn’t jab further, only nodding through a low hum. “I bet. Do you think you can stand?” 

Dick’s still against him for an endless moment, but finally, he rasps out a weak “yes,” and Jason takes it cautiously, keeping both hands firm on Dick as he helps him to his feet. 

Dick sways, his face paling, and Jason’s just considering calling Alfred when Dick finally nods with a sigh.

“Okay, I’m good.” 

“Right,” Jason says, not belieiving much at the moment. “Let’s shed some of these layers,” he adds, helping Dick out of the puffer jacket and a hoodie he had underneath. “Let me know when you start to feel cold.” 

Nodding, Dick starts following Jason back the way they came, mutely thankful for Jason’s signigicantly slower pace. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Of course you are,” Jason sighs, cocking his head to the side. “You’re always sorry when you completely disregard your well-being.” 

“Runs in the family,” Dick mutters, and Jason snorts, pulling his eyes back to the front. 

“Manor?” 

“Can we go to your apartment instead? I don’t want to listen to Tim make fun of me.” 

Jason breathes out a light laughing, clapping Dick on the shoulder. “Sure, but just know I do want to listen to Tim make fun of you, so I’ll definitely be calling him.”