#putting it all together into a little comic

[aestheticanimegirl15]

TW: slight angst, slight mentions of pregnancy, fem reader

It happens every year without fail since you and Simon got together. Every December, it's almost like clock work. You've come to accept it now as sort of a tradition. You put up the tree, wrap it in colorful lights, candy canes, tinsel, and ornaments that's been in your family for years. You hang up the stockings, make hot coco, etc. All normal, right? Except for this.

It's happens a handful of times, a week or a couple of days before Christmas. You'd wake up at some ungodly hour in the middle of the night because the spot next to you is cold, the personal heater you call your husband no where to be seen. Except you know exactly where he is, and if you can manage to pull yourself out of the comfort of your warm bed and into the cold winter air you will find him exactly where you thought he was.

He'd be sitting on the floor, criss crossed, and just staring at the Christmas tree. His hulking form looks almost comical in such a position, almost looking like a school child waiting for story time. It's easy to tell he's tired and probably cold, too. So you grab a blanket and sit next to him, drapping the blanket around the both of you. He'd accept it, but he won't talk, not a peep, he won't even take his eyes off the colorful tree.

So you don't, either. You'll just sit there with him, looking at the tree and the presents you had managed to wrap before you had to stop because your legs were numb and ran out of tape. You'll notice the distant, almost sad look in his eyes as he stares at the tree, like he's remembering something. But you won't mention it, in the past you did but he'd always divert the question.

"Maybe in the future, love." He'd say.

And since there was no point in asking questions you'd get no awnsers to, you just came to accept this as a part of who he is. After all before he met you, he never celebrated the holiday unless one of his teammates forced him to. You remember being shocked when he told you he had never put up a tree before.

"Just never saw the point in it."

After a while, if you're able to, you'll manage to coax him back into bed. The bed now cold but just as comfy as when you left it, and you'll fall back asleep in his arms.

Simon swears to himself that one day he'll tell you once he's comfortable enough. He'll tell you about his mother, brother, sister in law, and his nephew. Maybe even tell you what happened to them if he can bring himself to talk about it without breaking down. One day, he'll tell you about his past, but not tonight. Tonight he'll just focus on the feeling of you in his arms, the sound of your gentle breathing, but most of all he'll focus on the feeling of your stomach and the five month baby bump that was hidden underneath your night shirt.

But in the quiet of the night, when he knows your asleep. A silent whisper floats up into the air

"Merry Christmas, mom... I hope Santa is able to get little Joseph his present. Say hi to Tommy and Beth for me...."

[keferon]

Hmmmm. New infection: Blurr/Swerve

Your writing has radioactive qualities but in a comic book super powers granting kind of way.

Merry Christmas from me to you.

———————————————————————

There was single spark of Christmas in the deepest dark of space. Far, far from the warm fire of Earth.

With the sort of warmth reserved for children’s holiday specials, Swerve and Jazz exchanged small improvised gifts.

Prowl also participated, with all the stone cold concentration of a bomb defusal.

Turns out, there was a decent amount of dropped shanix down various vents that Jazz had gotten a hold of. Swerve helped him pick up a gift for Prowl the next time they stopped at a trade depot. It was some of the most fun he’d had since waking up.

Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again.

Later, Swerve would watch as Jazz helped Prowl loop a striped scarf over his shoulders and across one half of a chevron, laughing and smiling all the while.

Swerve wasn’t jealous. No no no. He really was happy for them! He was! And maybe a little sad.

Prowl nodded at something Jazz said and took his leave to head back to his, their hab suite. Jazz jogged over to where Swerve had been slowly been drilling a pen into the drawing pad Jazz gotten for him.

“So you going to go see them?”

Swerve abruptly dropped the pen and flattened a hand over the sketch he’d definitely not made of the person he totally wasn’t thinking about.

“Whaaaat? No, no I’m sure they’re fine. Not! That I was still thinking about him! THEM.”Swerves optics darted rapidly from Jazz to the drawing, making sure any evidence was fully concealed.

“Besides, I’m not gonna leave you alone on Christmas Eve.” He said a bit more seriously, remembering Jazz’s current isolation. Unlike him, Swerve could visit Earth whenever wanted.

“Actually, Prowl was talking about some silent holovid earlier, so we were going to watch it tonight. It’s cool man, go check on your boo.”

Jazz looked, well, happy. And his field (wow, Swerve was still mind blown that humans had those the entire time) reflected that.

Swerve did a poor imitation of nonchalance. “I mean, only if you’re totally sure.”

Jazz put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet a little, “Hmmm, you could always join Prowl and I for the holovid. You know, the one we’re gonna watch together? Inside his room?”

HA!

Hahahahhaha!

Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl.

The Christmas Shopping was enough.

With Jazz’s blessing, and Prowl’s glaring, seriously he could feel it through the wall, Swerve wished them a Merry Christmas and went to his room. Just a little bit quicker than necessary.

———————————————

Blurr’s hospital was one of those really fancy ones that looked more like a hotel room from the right angles.

There were simple decorations, extra furniture like a nightstand and a small couch, as well as fairly thick curtains framing a large clear window.

Christmas lights were strung up outside, adding to the ambient glow of the city lit up below. Snowflakes drifting through the air fuzzed the details. Made everything a little soft.

Swerve zeroed in on closing the curtains out of habit.

“Leave th-“

Swerve shrieked, nearly clipping through a wall with how hard he jumped.

Lying on his good side on the couch, Blurr merely blinked at him slowly before finishing his sentence.

“Leave the curtains open, please.” He pulled a blanket that didn’t look thick enough a little more securely over his shoulder.

Blurr didn’t resume looking at the falling snow, instead he took Swerve in with a half lidded eye.

“So are you my ghost of Christmas past, present or future?”

Swerve was uncomfortably reminded of how he looked at the moment. Colorless, grainy and mostly transparent. Slowly, he turned up the sliders on his holoform. “Heh, uh, option D? None of the above?”

Blurr didn’t have an IV in, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still on some other form of painkillers. Either way, he seemed a little more aware than what Swerve was prepared to deal with.

So why was he moving to get Blurr a better blanket?

Eh, he probably won’t remember this, but his recovery will. Swerve rationalized. He thinks I’m a Christmas ghost anyways, it’s just a dream to him.

When Swerve was almost out of sight, he was stopped by a small, “Stay?”

Swerve stayed.

He shuffled where he stood, Blurr continued to look at him. Slowly, the former racer tried to sit up.

Swerve was there right away, moving softly as he helped him up. In order to support Blurrs weight as best as possible, Swerve ended up sitting halfway onto the couch where Blurr had been laying.

Blurr placed a hand on his arm for support, and when he was most of the way upright, Swerve felt him sigh and rest all of his weight onto his holoform.

Comfortable.

Trapping him.

Holoforms can’t explode right?

Swerve was living both his greatest fanfic dream as well as his second greatest real life nightmare. He really, really hoped holoforms couldn’t explode. Fuck knows he’d put this poor man through enough.

How many layers of guilt were there again? There’s the initial parasocial idolization thing. There was the time Blurr saw all of his destroyed merchandise. So he thinks Swerve hates him. Did. He did actually hate him. Not really, but he wanted to. Oh and then Swerve left him for dead! Because he treated him like he wasn’t an actual living person who could feel fear! Or pain! Or. . . Alone.

On Christmas.

Swerve got a little more settled onto the couch, letting Blurr use him as his personal cushion a bit more comfortably. Leaning his head on his shoulder, Blurr was watching the snow again.

“When I was a child, I spent every Christmas at a ski lodge to the north” Blurr spoke quietly enough that the silence stayed resilient.

“I’d stay up late, watching the snow drift down through the mountain lights for hours. It felt a lot like this.” Blurr’s eye was fluttering more and more the longer he spoke. Each time it closed, Swerve could see the effort it took to open again.

Blurr, readjusted his body one last time me. Then mumbled. “You’re very warm for a ghost.”

Swerve, desperately, wished he could remember a single smart thing he’d ever written. “I got a slider for that.”

Swerve was going to find the self destruct button.

Blurr snorted a genuine single laugh. His eye had closed and he’d stopped fighting. Gradually, Swerve felt him breath a little slower, sinking into him and the couch. Swerve held still, until all the screaming, embarrassing panic in his mind resolved into white noise.

Swerve stayed for as long as he could. And when his time was almost up, he carefully lowered Blurr back onto the couch. Getting him a thicker blanket, and a non-Swerve pillow, for Christmas.

———————————————————————

- SSTP

"Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again."

LMAO

"Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl."

AHAHAHAJFJGMGJGKRJ WHEEEEEEZE HELP

ANON. SSTP. DEAR. MY TREASURE. MY SWEET NUCLEAR POWER PLANT OF A WRITER. I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE THEM. BOTH JP AND BLURWERS. YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS TO BE THIS FUNNY AND CUTE /J

Also The scene with Blurr is just SO cozy auughhggj I wanna wrap them both in a blanket and send to the magic ski resort where nothing bad ever happens*

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: After Sunday spoiled your 'not-date' with Aventurine, he feels he still has to warn you about some things. wc: 1.6k - this is nsfw! cw for dubcon! fondling, masturbation, sexual fantasy a/n: The guillemets «» are still used to indicate Sunday's telepathy!

part 5 / part 6 (nsfw) --- You insisted that Aventurine not walk you back home—It was hard to articulate one sole reason why. Sunday's confrontation was a large factor, though. It didn't feel right to throw him into more trouble like that—let him get the sweep, as he put it. You could brave the streets back to your apartment by yourself without much hassle, anyways. Very little of Golden Hour was left unlit, after all. You turn to look behind you. The feeling of still being watched crawls up your back like a creeping fungus, a sense of unease clinging to your spine all the way until it reaches your throat. But in the cacophony in golden light and bustling figures, you can't make anything out. You know who it is that's following you. You just pretend he's not there, and simply press on.

« But something tells you that you have to take another route. » You're not sure why...? So you stop, you steady yourself, and you try to figure out where you are and how long it is until you're on Glaux Avenue. « Something tells you that you have to walk behind the food truck and into the passageway between that jewelry store and that automobile dealer. » Hesitant, you trust the strange feeling, slipping behind the truck and into a dark passageway, two impenetrable walls of brick squeezing the thin line of the alley together, bins of waste and discarded belongings littering both sides. You don't understand what makes you think this will be a shortcut to Glaux Avenue. 

« But something tells you that if you just take a few more steps, just barely enough to no longer be in the light, just a few more, one more step... » You get the notion that someone familiar is behind you. You freeze in place, recognizing the exact sound of the footsteps calmly approaching you in great clarity. You turn a quarter of the way around, not yet enough to meet his eyes before— Sunday clasps a hand over your face. You feel your lips smushed under his palm, your front teeth against the cool cotton fabric of his white glove. "Listen to me for a moment," he commands. "Don't speak." You stay silent, eyes locked on the wall in front of you. You assume you'd be terrified out of your mind if you had it within yourself to be that way. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the surprise. Besides, you were sure making a fuss wouldn't do anything good. "No matter how I or any member of The Family may act around that man in public, I cannot stress to you how little you should trust him. From this moment forward, do not answer any questions he asks, do not accept anything he offers you, and by Xipe, do not ever let me find you fraternizing with him ever again." Oh. You swear you could almost break out laughing. This- This wasn't Sunday. Sunday had been unusual at times, sure, but it was all innocent (if uncomfortable) behavior. It's almost comical, you assure yourself, to hear such harsh threats come out of his mouth! That explains why you can barely believe what he's saying, after all. Nothing to do with being terrified of your employer—nothing of the sort. "...Awlrigh...?" "Are you not taking me seriously, [Y/N]?" You take in a sharp breath, even if it's stunted by Sunday's hand in your face. Frantically, you shake your head no. "Good. I'm glad you have returned to being reasonable." His hand lifts off your mouth, an awkward thread of saliva connecting your bottom lip to the damp stain of breath on the palm of his glove. Sunday closes his hand, almost as if he's tenderly holding the spot on his glove for safe keeping, before bringing it down to hold on to your waist. "[Y/N], you are one of the most important people in the entire Family. What you decide to do with your time impacts not just you, but the entirely of Penacony. Do you remember what I said about upholding our reputations?" "Yes, sir." "I meant every word of it." Both of his hands are now holding your sides, bringing you in to press your back up against him. "You must understand what the good people of Penacony would think of me if I let my dear assistant run off with a member of the IPC." Sunday takes in another breath as if he means to say more, but stops himself. You can almost feel his composure slip for a moment, and as you turn your head back to see what the matter is, you notice him looking around warily—Checking for witnesses. His right hand slowly and hesitantly ascends, wrapping his fingers around your breast, creasing the cloth of your blazer underneath his grip. Sunday barely stifles a groan, his other hand squeezing your side fiercely as if to steady himself. "I w- I would not consider myself a vengeful man, [Y/N]," he stammers, lightheaded with his own desire as he fondles you. "Nor would I consider myself a man who is jealous beyond reasonable means. It is not covetous nor avaricious merely to insist upon what is already mine." His last sentence is tugged almost into a hoarse cry, and he bites his tongue to suppress another groan.

Though he would be remiss to admit it to you at a time like this, Sunday understands what he is doing is unconscionable, and he hated himself for it. But there is simply no other recourse. In matters of temptation, his behavior only seems sinful on the imperfect surface. For temptation is the fledgling form of greed, of gluttony and corruption, but the source of that which drove him to take you in his hands and tortured him night after night with thoughts of defiling you was instead responsibility.

Sunday has an obligation to make his possession of you known to himself, to you, and most importantly, to others. Others like that Avgin scum who dared to try and steal you from him behind his back. More were bound to attempt similar foolish things if Sunday did not reassert his authority with proper haste. You feel Sunday's breath curl down the back of your neck as he moves your hair to one shoulder. He plants a kiss on the soft flesh of your neck, right where it meets the edge of your jaw, and you shudder at the feelings of his lips against your skin. "If I can't trust you to make wise choices with your time off, I might not be able to give you time off at all," Sunday whispers lowly in your ear, his tone dreadfully serious. "We don't want to worry about you getting in trouble, do we?" He pauses for a moment, before adding "I certainly don't." And just as his hands remove themselves from your body, you turn around and Sunday has vanished. ... ... ... ...

Sunday is able to think about little else once he reaches his quarters, and he shuts his door emphatically the moment he enters.

To alleviate his own misdeeds, it is imperative that he approach it in an orderly fashion. Sunday takes off his coat properly and hangs it on the third spoke of his coat rack. With his dorsal wings free to open, Sunday takes off his vest one arm at a time, folding it neatly and setting it on his dresser. Sunday rolls up the bottom hem of his shirt until it reaches his torso, then pulls the neck over his head, then extends his arms out to pull it off his body entirely—The shirt then folded neatly as well, and set next to the folded vest. As one last precaution, Sunday scans his quarters. Not a blind has been left undrawn, nor a door left cracked open, nor an object out of its usual place. Sunday listens to the sound of his own breathing for a moment, as it is his only company: It is labored, heavy with desperation, tortured with knowledge of Sunday's unfulfilled responsibilities. Sunday sits himself on the side of his bed, facing away from the door, and undoes his belt. Xipe will forgive him. Xipe will forgive him. That which torments him is much more than wanton impulse. The infraction of him spitting in his own palm and satisfying his own carnal urges is infinitesimal to the weight of Penacony's corruption. With no person to confess to but himself, Bronze Melodia of Xipe, Sunday has full authority to absolve himself of guilt. For a cause like his, his actions are no transgression. With the stories he's listened to, Sunday knows the habits of lesser men, and lesser men do worse daily without even a second thought. Sunday brings his other hand up to massage his face, his head rolling back from the feeling of his own hand stroking him. In due time, it would be your hand, soft and gentle and perfumed and perfect in ways he could barely fathom, the rhythm of your delicate fingers brushing against his smoldering-hot skin euphoric beyond his wildest imagination. Sunday falls back onto his own bed, one foot lifting to dig its heel into the mattress as his movements grow more fervid at the thought of your face, your voice, the kind look in your eyes. Nothing short of taking you entirely could satiate him, and he knew it; There would be no other way to fulfill his responsibilities towards you. He bites his tongue, holding back grunts a more sinful man would make carelessly, and dares not to buck his hips into his own hand like some sort of uncouth aberrant. Still, even as his tongue is held, your name is repeated in his thoughts like a desperate prayer. With the invocation of your name, he begs for mercy from this torture. With your name, he begs for release. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].

--- a/n: tumblr was fighting with me this whole fucking time and I finally figured out it was because of it that third sunday mind control sentence and for the life of me I could not tell you what was so bad about it so prevent me from posting this feedback is always appreciated! tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd @8x9d @ruruize @herrscherofprocrastination

[bluepopofanarts]

I don't give clear spoilers from the S2 but read the next with precautions (I imply things but I prefer giving the warning. I hate spoilers so I try to avoid it to others even if with the S2 my brain was impatient XD).

------

Little AU (another after the swap comic XD) where they have met in childhood. They both share the same origin story but one day they just met randomly when Viktor played with his boat (probably just after meeting Singed because I drew an healthy Rio).

The timeline changed her direction to a long-time friendship where they shared every steps of their life. I drew Rio with them but infortunately she had the same fate (I swear I keep the main scenario because I didn't find how to save her. If I find something I'd change the description ! XD Maybe bringing her back with some Hextech magic, even if that implies she is white/gold if you know what I mean lol).

They did their studies together and created te Hexgems. The main difference : they've never created the unstable ones that destroyed the appartment (because Viktor was already here "to crank it") but they also never dared to talk about them. So when the group stole them they both ended up in trial for creating the Hexgems. But Mel saved them both and their part of the story is the same (except the fact that Viktor being put under the spotlight gave him a Councilor place too. He enjoyed that like an introvert in front of a full theatre xD).

For the Zaunist side, and because the Hexgems are stable, they didn't create the deadly huge explosion. Milo finished to free Vander, Claggor created the wall hole and everybody escaped. Even Powder who were already outside, she didn't fly with the explosion like in the original.

BUT

Silco took the Hexgems and started to create weapon with them + the Shimmer.

So yes, Jayce and Viktor are in trouble because they have to create the Hexgates and trying to keep peace. Luckily Victor is the one trying to find peace with Silco. And Vander helped a lot with a certain heartbreaking piece of paper (I'm still crying all the water I drunk in a week everytime I read it ! And !spoiler for the artbook! having the artbook with that letter in it is not helping ! XD)

And because I really love (in a painful, tearful, brain-eating, obsessive, and highly passionate way) what happened to my precious Vitya in the next season, I guess they found peace and gave independance to Zaun but a certain someone set the Council room in fire to start again the hatred (probably a dangerous woman in red who already prouved that she can plot horrible plans !). So Silco is alive but we still have the S2 (yes even the absolute horrific end of the episode 6. Seriously, even after knowing what/why/all the things and reasons, fuck you still, Jayce).

So this is how I fixed the utopic timeline of the episode 7 (not gonna lie guys but I was absolutly not a fan of this moment when I saw it for the first time. For me Arcane was "impossible to give me joy" "this is probably some kind of Arcane bad trip and they are in reality in some kind of deadly nightmare" "everything is fake", I was super suspicious so I did'nt enjoy it like I should have do xD But now I'm fine with that even if a lot of things are illogic, but it's still beautiful to enjoyer peace and love).

Anyway, more Jayvik incoming because they are the biggest brainroat I've ever had in my damn life. Viktor really set my mind in pieces and I don't recover from it. But I forgive him because it's Viktor <3

Merry Christmas even if it's the end of the day ! (almost 10pm here xD)

[size-two-shrimp]

We're bein' abnormal on this wonderful Wednesday night boys >:]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

...Turns out gay sex actually was the solution.

(This is basically a redraw, come read the real deal over at Tiger Tiger)

[antichrists-plus1]

[They're in love.]

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[marclef]

today's lesson: things that Fakey probably shouldn't ask to fellow Fake Peppinos

(featuring DMW Peppi-no from @pizzabox-box)

(my poor dear Fakey might be a little too curious 👁👁💧)

[stars-and-branches]

"he would not fucking do that" but its me reworking the fic im writing because I originally had Tim doing something early in the morning despite knowing full well that he would be honk-shooing it face-first into his keyboard for like ten hours instead

[amanitacurses]

Names

1 2 3

[somerandomcockroach]

@keferon OKAY BUT LISTEN YEAH I would loved if it was just fun ehehehe and sassy flirting with the demon no one sees pfffht, literally summoned a demon just to flirt with, and I guess it could have been going for a long time, just little strips with their funny adventures and then plot can go to the fact that he wants to give him a body and Shockwave would agree or that they just stay the way they are and just hang out like this together (Alo I remember that you wanted to put Ratchet (I keep writing Ratched instead of Ratchet buuuh) and Drift in it as another demon and their summoner thing whghweghgwe but I like how you made two separate stories for them that happen at the same time, okay I am actually PRETTY MUCH invested in this story, I like a lot how it goes and gets tangled and how mixes up with idw ideas and other stuff a lot)

BUT NOW that you changed it that way, you made a few more things that reader might be interested a lot in, like that promise he made and you mentioning that he will regret it, how their relationship progressively develops, plus the fact that Blurr was a frivolous slob gifted with dark magic AND how the tables turn upside dow and he get consequences for what he did in the most unpredictable way for him and how he surely changes in his behaviour, getting more and more concerned about his promise and maybe truly loving someone for the first time in his life and wanting to change something. And then figuring out that that same demon actually was a person before, someone he knew, someone respectable, kind, shiny, absolut sun of a person, who died (I am still on my knees waiting to know how exactly he died...) miserably to the point that he absolutely can't stand his life as a demon and NOT EVEN being able to kill himself!!! And Blurr was a pupil in his school, he saw him, he gifted him an ability to make his magic work for him, gave the freedom to live among everyone to all who was poisoned with this dark magic. OH WAITA HGSDHAG the thing that beastformers can't walk among transformers and the fact that dark spellers also could not, and how these events happen at a close times, OKAY so dark spellers got their kind of freedom thanks to Senator Shockwave (OH MY GOD what if Orion can see Shockwave and will recognise him right away COUGH) BUT I am wondering if beastformers will get some kind of an official declaration or some kind of school to be educated in and I wonder if Deadlock/Drift (I think after leaving he will change his name from the last episode...) will volunteer to be a teacher t be something more, or he will just end up with Ratchet wandering around the world, or maybe there will be a whole damn revolution where all monoformers and beastformers leaded by Drift go against the system, and maybe these events happen at the same time as a Senator Shockwave fighting for the rights of gifted... Okay I'm getting carried a little bit ahsghag excuse me... OH I GOT carried away A LOT I wanted to get back to the point that Blurr, now figuring out the past of Shocwave, dealing with all the events, dealing with what he has done and find a way to free them, at the same time STILL having adventures and fun since I'm sure he can be a good mood lifter to moody Shockwave and even see him in a really good mood since he is... well, not just a demon made of hatred but the wonderful kind of person in his previous life... (okay being carried away but what if Orion might declare the freedom to beastformers (AJHGAJHSDJAH OH MY GOD I IMAGINED JAZZ AS A PANDA HAVING A ROMAN WITH PROWL AND PROWL NOT KNOWING ABOUT IT OKAY SORRY) after seeing what it lead to after Senator Shockwave. And maybe Ratchet will be able to get his sign back freely after revolution will be successful or he will be forever blind just to be free and safe with his husband OKAY LISTEN I think it is obvious that I really like the thing you do....

[cobra-wives]

flashback to 1981

[dapperrokyuu]

Needing a Sua perspective from the ALNST auditions to Round 1. I never put much thought into what happens to the cast post-Anakt Garden graduation (do they immediately go to the auditions? Is there a period of time where they dont see each other until they recognize each other at the audition? Theres a considerable amount of time between the auditions and their Alien Stage season, did they see each other often between then or...? etc.), but regardless, imagine being her and having to choose between sabotaging your own audition so you dont have to go the the Sing, Win, or Die Show or putting your in your all in hopes of winning and spending just a bit more time with this girl you love because you know itll likely be the last time you see her. Imagine...

[moe-broey]

Textpost redraw that only works in a modern setting, so. I gave them silly outfits (and a little bit of lore!)

Some zoom ins on the illusts!

And Lore

Moe is like. A SHUT-IN shut-in. So in any modern setting that isn't "Hey wanna visit my hometown for a sec (events so far have followed canon at least loosely)", it would have to meet Alfonse under Extremely Specific Circumstances.

And finally! Textpost under cut!

[dairyfreenugget]

Hey hey hey hey hey hypothetically speaking.....

At the beginning option - would start after Flower/PV met Petunia and Lummis or shortly after the accolade

In the middle option - would start ~1.5 after the accolade, shortly after the infection was taken care of, Ghost and Radiance would be present in the story, Flower would still have tense relationship with a lot of people but starts to slowly open up

Towards the end of the main plot - shortly before or after Flower decides to resume contact with their parents, would focus on more slice of life experience with Flower and their parents trying to build some sort of relationship, lots of tension, possibly would involve something with The Shade Lord and/or Norel (I think it'd work the best for the ask blog format + would love to write more about that period of their relationship)

Or you could propose something else (More of the future stuff? Maybe some other point in time? A different branch? Maybe a different AU? Obviously more aimed towards people who know more in-depth timeline/lore of the AU)