#the previous games are good but they were Not able to get my attention quite like this lol

[maraariana01]

literally only 15 minutes in im already VERY intrigued

[sebscore]

Hey I’m not sure if you’re taking requests, I’m so sorry if you’re not! but do you think you’d be able to do a gig with the Leclerc brothers where their sister maybe plays a sport and she gets Injured very badly and how they’d like comfort her! I’m sorry if it’s too much! Love your works! Don’t forget to take a break!

THAT IS REALLY EMBARRASSING

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader / charlotte siné x leclerc!reader 

warnings: injury. unaccurate medical advice. swearing. the sport wasn't specified so I choose tennis, i'm sorry if you don't like that (but I do and if there are more tennis fans pls be my friend, I dont have any tennis friends). 

author's note: another Little Leclerc chapter after a long time! hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this fic! thank you so much for loving my works and I hope you have a great day!! 

masterlist

• • • • • • •

Similarly to her older brothers, the youngest Leclerc enjoyed passions of her own, but instead of a steering wheel, she thrived with a tennis racquet in her hand. 

She started playing at quite a young age, but her time was cut short due to her family's financial situation where they could only support one child's hobby- that being Charles' racing career. It had upset both her and Arthur, but it was an understandable decision. 

Once Charles started making his own money, the two youngest siblings slipped back into their own passions. It had been hard on the young girl at first as all the girls her age were much more advanced and she almost had to start back from scratch. However, she pulled through and began to compete against other players around the area. She wasn't the new Sharapova by any chance, but she had won several local junior tournaments and was seen as quite a big competitor in Monaco. 

Y/N had to prove that at the Monte-Carlo Country Club Junior Tournament, arguably the biggest junior competition in the country. Many girls and boys from different nationalities participated in the event, and it spanned over 2 weeks. 

Little Leclerc had never been able to win the tournament before, her best result being from the previous year when she was stranded in the semi-finals. Y/N had had a good tennis year and was one of the favourites to win her category at the prestigious competition. 

Y/N had seamlessly made it into the quarterfinals, having won all her previous matches in straight sets. Her mother had been present at every single match, not wanting to miss one second of her daughter's play and loving the attention the youngest was receiving. 

Lorenzo, Charles and Charlotte joined her at the girl's latest match, having missed most of them due to work. The brothers were glad they could finally watch her play after such a long time of not being able to attend her tournaments. 

''It's weird seeing her so serious.'' Charles mumbled as they waited for her to do her first serve, her focused face being one he didn't get to see often. 

Lorenzo chuckled. ''I know, she's always clowning around.'' He responded, shutting up as soon as his sister tossed the ball into the air. 

The serve was too fast for her opponent to return, resulting in an ace for Y/N and another game won- the score now 5-1 for Leclerc. She received an applause, the clapping of her family standing out and giving them a timid smile. 

She was on her way to win the first set, but not everything always goes as planned. Her opponent hit the ball to the opposite side of where Y/N was standing, the young girl having to make a long run to return the ball. Because it was a grass court, the players have to wear special shoes, but they often stick to the ground making it harder to run very fast. Her right foot became stuck to the court so Y/N had to put all her weight on it, causing a twist to happen as she chased the ball. She fell to the ground, clamping to her right ankle. 

Pascale immediately stood up from her seat, her heart dropping to her stomach as she saw her daughter go down on the court. Lorenzo processed the moment for a few seconds before standing up as well, and Charles and Charlotte stayed seated, the woman's hands covering her face in shock. 

They watched the umpire climb down from his high chair and approach her, crouching down next to Y/N and asking her if she's okay. ''My ankle hurts a lot.'' She answered him, holding back tears. 

''You want to continue playing?'' The man already knew the answer would be no, but he was mandated to ask her. 

Y/N shook her head. ''No, I think I need a medic or something.'' 

The umpire nodded his head at her words and pulled out his walkie talkie, calling for a medic to enter the court. He received an answer on the other side and turned back to her. ''Can you walk, Y/N?'' 

The young girl tried putting pressure on her ankle, but a throbbing pain shot through her foot and she yelped. ''No, I can't.'' 

''Get a wheelchair as well, she can't walk properly.'' He spoke into the device, receiving a short 'understood' from the other side of the walkie talkie. 

Y/N could see the concerned looks on her family's faces, giving them a thumbs up to ease their worries. Her mother let out a deep sigh, relieved her daughter seemed at least okay on the surface. 

Eventually, two medics arrived with one of them holding the wheelchair in their hand. They unfolded it and carefully helped the girl get up from the ground. They sat her down in the chair and rolled her off the court while the audience gave her an applause, showing their appreciation for the match and her hard work. 

The Leclerc Family made their way towards the inside of the stadium, wanting to get to their youngest as soon as possible. ''It looked like it hurt a lot, did you see it twisting?'' Charlotte said, the moment replaying in her head. 

''Yeah, and she was trying so hard not to cry, I could just see it.'' Charles responded, holding onto his girlfriend's hand for some sort of support. 

''Maman, the medical center is there!'' Lorenzo redirected his mother as she almost went into the wrong hallway. Pascale quickly turned the right way, running on her motherly instincts. 

She knocked on the door, opening it before being given permission to actually enter the room. ''Oh, look at you.'' Y/N was laying down on the doctor's table, her ankle being inspected by one of the medics. 

Pascale embraced her as well as she could while her daughter laid down, caressing her face. ''Does it hurt a lot?'' She glanced at the ankle, seeing it already swelled up. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''It only hurts when I move it or stand on it.'' She answered, tears escaping her eyes. 

''Don't cry, Chérie! You're so strong, you're a brave girl.'' Her mother tried comforting her, wiping the tears away and kissing her cheek. 

The medic scratched their voice, gathering everyone's attention. ''It's 100% not broken, but it is sprained,'' they explained, ''I'm gonna tape it and then you're free to leave, but I advice you rest your ankle for the next week and don't strain it too much, cause then you'll have to go to the hospital.'' They finished off, grabbing the support tape from one of the cabinets. 

''Okay, thank you.'' Lorenzo weakly smiled, grabbing a chair and setting himself down next to the table. 

''I was doing so well and then of course I have to fall.'' Y/N exclaimed, radiating frustration. 

Her oldest brother grabbed her hand. ''It can happen to anyone, even the big players fall and get injured.'' 

''But it's embarrassing falling in front of that many people- I wanted to die right then and there.'' His sister argued, her hands covering her face as if she was reliving the moment. 

Pascale chuckled at her daughter's dramatics. ''There are worse things to be embarrassed about, Chérie.'' 

''Yes,'' Charlotte spoke up, ''remember when I had to make a Twitch account so he would open the door for me? Way more embarrassing.'' She said, gathering laughs from everyone. 

''Or when Charles wore that banana costume on a livestream!'' Lorenzo added. 

''And Arthur with his 18-hour screen time? You've got nothing to worry about.'' Charles chimed in, directing the focus to Arthur's embarrassing moments. 

Y/N's tears had stopped and laughed along with her family, appreciating their attempt at cheering her up and making her feel better about her fall. ''Ooh~ she's smiling again.'' Charles poked at her dimple, a giggle escaping her mouth because of it. 

''Remember when Charles-''

''She gets it, Enzo!'' 

taglist :: @missskid @maxiel-jpg @glitterquadricorn @stillbreathin @obsessed-fan-alert @booknerd2004-blog @kageyamama-hinatatata @reblog-princess-blog @maezenin12 @gly-exe @lighttsoutlewis @topguncultleader @jaydensluv @nora_moon @erinisrightheree @7leb-kakaw @theamazingsimp @lovelyxlily @princessmiaelicia @mehrmonga @champomiel

[crsssie]

saying we're just friends, thinking you're my man

word count: 11.3k

warnings: non-explicit smut, heavy making out

summary: Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It's a textbook relationship.

Tim can't count the number of times he's read a fic like this.

In fact, he can already imagine the tags on your love story. Strangers to lovers, Friends to Lovers, Fateful Encounter, Alternate Universe - College, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn... the list goes on. You'd probably have a field day trying to finish the story inspired by the one the two of you experienced. Though, as he brushes his fingers through your hair in the kisses of the morning sun, he wouldn't have it any other way — even if he couldn't form a coherent thought when you were awake and talking to him. God, you make him weak.

In the blaring heat of August at orientation, you landed right at his feet after getting shoved around in the crowd of students.

"You good?" He holds his hand for you, and you take it, pulling yourself up.

"Sorry! They're quite a crowd." You laugh awkwardly. "I'm, uh—" Your name tumbled past your lips, an apologetic smile on your face, explaining to him that you were trying to get to the English building through the crowd of students. Tim told you his name (only first in fear you'd recognize his last) and showed you a shortcut to the building. You had taken the messily scribbled image, airdropped it onto your phone, and you had rushed off with a thank you yelled into the air. Tim hadn't thought much about you. It wasn't as if you'd be in the same department as him. He also had minimal GE classes, so—

Two days later, you sit next to him in his only GE class. He was required to take English regardless of his previous experience with it. His AP classes hadn't been kind enough to remove the requirement. Not even the fives on both of his English APs could have helped him avoid the expository hell all freshmen were required to take. So, he meets eyes with you as you apologize for sitting next to him, confessing that he was the only face you knew.

"So? What's your major?" You blink at him curiously as the class waits for the professor.

"I'm in Cybersecurity."

"Woah." You mumble. "Stem..."

"You?"

"Creative Writing." You grin. "Well, build your own major. But Creative Writing nonetheless."

"A writer?"

"Yeah."

Tim had watched as you played Minecraft the entirety of class, only skimming through the syllabus for his late work, absence, and attendance policies. He's not sure if you even caught the way the professor mentioned there was a syllabus quiz next class. Though it wasn't his job to tell you, but he still felt kind of bad if you were to fail it. He passes you a note, and you pause your game, glancing at the note. You grin at him, opening your phone and showing him your reminder. You go back to your Minecraft world for the rest of class, information going in one ear and out the other. (Tim found out later that you actually listen, and gaming was only a focus tactic you used.)

At the end of class, you save your world, push your chair in, and sprint for the door.

Tim shared no other classes with you. In fact, the two of you only had one class together for all four years of your college lives. Yet, there was something about you that had stuck with him. He didn't know what it was, but he hadn't felt that giddy over someone since his last relationship, his heart racing in his chest, his head spinning. He pushed everything down in favor of being able to pay attention in class. Though his coding skills were spectacular, his writing skills were less than stellar. He didn't understand how writing just came to you.

Especially not when you fell asleep halfway through your first monthly timed essay and still scored a 97. He could learn a thing or two from you, maybe. Were you doing memory consolidation in the middle of the exam? He has no idea how you did it.

Your name slips past his lips as you pack up after one class.

"Yeah?" You tilt your head at him.

"Are you," he pauses, (a little embarrassed. Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne, CEO of WE, was in need of help. Of course he was a little embarrassed.) "down to tutor me? My grade in this class is less than... acceptable." He grimaces at how his voice goes quiet.

You smile. "Yeah. I'm down. I'll give you my number and schedule and we can arrange a time. Expository writing isn't that bad. It's just the same sentence structure with some BS and then you're done."

"Easy for you to say," He hands you his phone.

"No. It's just like how you have structure when you code." You click your number in, texting yourself and saving his contact before you forget. "There is structure in everything you do."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You beam at him.

Tim's next essay comes back with an 81. It's a big improvement from the 64 he scored the first time. You were right, the essays being the same thing over and over again. The structure is as easy as basic coding is to him. He understands you now.

He thanks you by taking you to the diner, paying for your meal.

You kick your legs at the booth, milkshake straw between your lips, lost in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He raises a brow.

"Tim... what's your last name?" You frown. "It's fine if you don't tell me, but my friends have been asking who I've been tutoring and I realized I have no idea what your last name is."

"It's Drake." He scans your face for something when he tells you.

"Drake..." You pause, letting go of the milkshake straw. "huh. Like the CEO." You go back to your milkshake after the revelation.

"Not surprised?"

"I mean," You grimace at him. "You wear the down-low designer brands your adoptive father does, so not really. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to pry in case you didn't want to tell."

"Down-low designer brands?"

"Bruce Wayne has a specific way of dressing casual." You bite on your straw. "I know this sounds creepy but I've done more research on brands billionaires wear than I'd like to admit."

"Does it have to do with your writing?" Tim thanks the waiter as his order is brought.

"Yeah." You smile sheepishly. "Is that creepy? Sorry."

"No. I've been expecting the unexpected from you for a while now."

You laugh. "Yeah?"

"I have an older brother who writes in his free time and the amount of things he's done for research is crazy."

"Right? Reddit and Quora are my saviors." You mumble. "I obviously can't kill for research, so the internet is my best friend."

"Do you search on incognito?"

"No. I prefer being able to dig up my weird research from my search history." You shrug. "I bet the FBI has me on a watchlist."

"I could check if you'd like."

You feign a look of shock. "Really?"

He smiles at you, and the two of you burst into laughter.

"You going to Connor's Halloween party next week?" You finish the last of your milkshake.

"Of course not." He deadpans. "Must I remind you I hate going out?"

"Awh," You pout. "I wanted someone to match maid dresses with."

"Excuse me?"

"For research."

The smile on your face suggests anything but.

"You can consider it as payment for all the times I'm going to tutor you."

"I've been paying you."

"No." You shake your head. "You pay me each time we have a session. I'm letting you pay me for the rest of the lessons by showing up to the Halloween party in a maid dress with me."

Tim looks at you incredulously.

"Actually, I'll even draft a contract if you don't believe me." You smile.

"And if I turn you down?"

"I'll find one of my friends to do it with."

"Then why ask me?"

"The thrill of the unknown? The endless answers you could have chosen? A grasp on your character better? It could be anything." You smile sweetly at him. "It's fine. You can continue paying me like you normally do."

"Who would you match with if not me?"

"Well, I was thinking Sam or someone else," You shrug. "but Sam doesn't celebrate Halloween. I'd match with the other guy friend, but one of my friends is into him so I don't want to make it seem like I'm making a move on someone I know she likes."

"So you asked me?"

"I don't know, Tim." You shrug. "You tell me. I thought you were a genius."

He leans in to read your face better. "I'd say you asked me because you're interested in me."

"Bingo." You grin wider this time.

"It's been less than two months."

"And? Hasn't stopped people from already hooking up." You shrug. "You can say no."

"See, I'd say yes, but Connor would take a photo and it would end up in our groupchat's blackmail folder." Tim slides his fries to the middle when he catches you staring. "You can have one."

"I thought you were a master hacker?" You pick a fry from the carton.

"Yeah, but friend code."

"Ah." You nod slowly. "It's okay to say no. I won't get offended."

"Maybe next year." Tim shakes his head.

"No worries!"

Tim stalks your Instagram on the day of Halloween, staring at the post where you're matching maid dresses with your entire friend group. In the back of his mind, he wonders, for a brief moment, if it would have just been you and him if he had agreed. The thought disappears just as fast, sighing as he puts his phone down and domino mask on. He had patrol. He could think about his mess of emotions later. Gotham needs him.

Your breath hitches from the spiked punch, your friends long lost in the crowd, your head spinning as you stumble onto the balcony of the apartment, resting your head on the cool of the metal railing, trying to calm the thumping of your head. You hear something rustle in front of you, the sound of someone swinging, and you open an eye to get a look. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of Red Robin.

"Hey—"

"Dude... your costume looks way too realistic." You press your fingers to his armor, pulling him onto the balcony with you, mumbling under your breath as you feel him up through his costume. The smell of alcohol is apparent on your lips, the smell of your perfume flooding his senses — your cheeks are flushed beyond repair, and Tim finds himself frozen in place as you practically straddle him, fingers running to his face. His eyes dart to your cleavage unconsciously, staring back up to meet your eyes when he sees too much. You look sinful like this. His breath catches in his throat as he tries to loosen your grip on him without accidentally throwing you off, and he finally presses a hand of his to your stomach, successfully getting you to stop.

"Sorry." You mumble.

"No worries." He rasps, pushing you back onto your seat gently — heart drumming in his head.

"Ey, Red Robin!" Connor calls from inside the house. "You made it!"

"I'm not here to party. I was checking in on you to see if you were being responsible." He sighs.

You blink at him, doe-eyed, fascinated, drunken stupor all over your face.

"You're real?"

"Yes." He mumbles.

"Sorry for touching you."

"You're forgiven."

You lean back into your seat with an exhale, pulling out your phone as Connor leads Tim further into the party. He speaks to Oracle to let her know where he was, and he exhales when she tells him B says it's fine. He nods at the people who compliment his costume as he passes them, and he grabs himself a cup of punch, pausing when the alcohol stings his tongue. He dumps it in Connor's sink, eyes trailing to where you were sitting, breath catching in his throat at the sight of some sleaze slinging his arm around you. He rushes over to you, fingers smoothing down your neck to your shoulders, warning smile on his face.

"She has company for the night."

The man scrambles as you look up at him, beaming. His breath catches in his throat.

"Careful. I might just take you home."

"Don't you dorm?" He raises a brow in amusement.

"No one said my home." You turn around to reach for his jaw, fingers trailing down, breath fanning his. Tim would let you do this. He really would. He'd kiss you senseless on the balcony at Connor's house, yet he knows better than to do so. You're drunk from the punch. He'd be taking advantage of you no matter how much you want this when sober. So, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, forehead meeting yours, every ounce of his willpower pulled into not just kissing you senseless here. If only you were sober. The things he would do.

"Where is she — babes! Time to go!" Your friend breaks the tension for him, pulling you away from him with a nod, alcohol riding off of her as well. He wonders if your driver is tipsy.

"I wanna go home with Red Robin..." You mumble, and your friend smacks you playfully. He notices one of you is sober, and he supposes that's enough. He heads back inside to find Connor.

Tim notices you miss class the next day. You text him to ask him to record the lecture for you, telling him the Halloween party was lit and you remember almost making out with a guy but your friend cockblocked you. Tim holds back a laugh in class, letting you know he'd email you his notes with the lecture recording. You thank him with an image, going offline immediately after. He clicks on his laptop, noting down whatever you might need. The recording would cover the rest. He sends everything at the end of class, your response instant. It wouldn't matter if you were absent from class. Your grade could take a hit.

He answers his phone when you dial him.

"Hey?"

"Timmers, you got Tylenol?"

"I can buy you some?" He offers. "I don't have class after this."

"Please? Oh, and throw in that one specific brand of bottled tea. I'll send you a photo." You grumble.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Like a dead girl walking."

"Taking that as a no. Want anything else?"

"I'll Venmo you the money. Bring me the receipt."

"You're sick. You can pay me back by actually being in class next lecture."

"Not hard. My head just hurts from the hangover."

"I'm guessing you got home safe?" Tim steps into the convenience store.

"Yeah. Our driver was sober. Thankfully."

Tim grabs the Tylenol and pauses. "I need the tea."

"Which convenience store are you in?"

"Metro."

"Aisle three by the American soda. It's green with white writing. You can read Chinese, right? It's Japanese but it says tea in Chinese."

"How'd you know?" Tim pauses. "Unsweetened green tea? The Japanese one?"

"Yeah. It helps a lot." You sniff. "Found out on google because someone made a compilation of you speaking foreign languages."

"So you assumed?"

"The part where you speak Cantonese, you were reading from a menu."

"Are you stalking me?"

"I'd prefer doing research."

"Stalking."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Tim checks out, tapping his phone to pay. He takes the bag and pauses at the sight of the instant noodles. "You sure you don't want anything else?"

"Nothing. Feel free to get what you need too."

Tim hears you drink something.

"I'll text you my dorm building and number. There's no pin to get in just let them know you're here to see me. I'm pretty close with the RA."

"Networking already, huh?"

"Whatever you want to call it."

You text him your dorm building and number, and he knocks on your door.

You open it with a weak push of your arm.

"Are you actually sick?"

"No." You thank him as he hands you the plastic bag. You pop two pills out, swallowing them with the tea. "I'm extremely hungover. I drank too much punch."

"And you didn't realize?"

"No. I was trying to drink my thoughts away." You sniff. "So? How'd you spend yesterday?"

"Handing out candy at the manor with Bruce." Which was a lie. He spent Halloween using every last drop of self-control to not kiss your drunk self senseless at Connor's place. He can still smell your perfume.

"Sounds boring."

"I do it every year." He shrugs. Also a lie. He spends every Halloween patrolling Gotham because it's the one night of the year where every single criminal decides it's alright to go apeshit.

"mm," You yawn. "I matched maid dresses with my friend group. I posted about it. Do you have insta?"

"No. I keep a low profile."

"So you don't have a private account?" You raise a brow.

"I do, but what makes you think we're close enough for it?" Tim mirrors your raise of brow.

You hold your hand to your mouth, pretending to be offended. "We're not close enough for it?"

"I'm kidding." He mumbles. "What's your handle? I'll follow you."

"You better not turn down my request." You reach for the green tea again, drinking it as you show him your account. He already knows your account. He figured he'd have to ask or else he'd be a hypocrite for calling you his stalker. Well, he's already a hypocrite.

"Ough!" You sit up straighter, reaching for your laptop. "Connor sent me these photos that the photographer caught of me and Red Robin" You swoon.

"You're into him?"

You blink at him. "Did I not tell you I run his stan account?"

"You do wHAT." He freezes. "Are you the girl who gets caught up on the news every other week because you accidentally fall while taking photos of him?"

"Yep." You grin. "He's my favorite Robin."

Tim was extremely conflicted at the discovery. In retrospect, he should have known from the way you seemed to climb all over him and pull him onto the balcony without second thought, but he's still embarrassed at the idea that you had fawned all over him. Yet he shakes his thoughts away as he peers over your shoulder to stare at the photos caught of the two of you — well, of you. You didn't know he was Red Robin.

There's a photo of you straddling him, feeling him up, and Tim's neck snaps to the side.

"Tim? You good? You don't need to look if you're uncomfortable, you know?" You remind.

"No," He swallows. "I wasn't expecting photos like this."

"Isn't the photographer good? I'd pay this guy to take photos of me at parties any day."

"Yeah?" Tim raises a brow as you show him the other two. One of him with his fingers on your collar, the other of his forehead pressed to yours, thumb between the two of you's lips. You explain to him in excitement that you would have kissed him had your friend not pulled you away because you needed to leave. Tim rests his back on your closet, nodding along slowly. He had homework to do. Yet he spent the rest of the afternoon in your room listening to you ramble about Red Robin, conspiracies reminding him of someone.

"So let me get this straight." Tim interrupts. "I'm on a time crunch. I have something for one of my compsci classes due soon and wanted to get the big picture."

"Oh. I'm sorry for—"

"Don't." He holds his hand out. "I stayed. You run the biggest Red Robin stan account on Twitter and you're planning on posting those photos like he's some kpop idol?"

"Yeah?" You tilt your head.

"Are the fans not going to get mad that he's making out with someone at a party?"

"No." You laugh. "His fans are used to him being in relationships. The most they'd do is figure out who that is, which is me, but that's it."

"You won't get death threats?"

"His fans aren't crazy."

"Yeah? You seem pretty mental to me."

You gasp. "Rude." You look to the side, sucking your cheeks in. "But not wrong."

"Yeah. If you denied it, I'd just pull up every single time you'd fallen while trying to get good photos of Red Robin."

You pout. "Shoo. You said you had something due soon."

"Last question."

"Shoot."

"You don't mind that he's never going to date you?"

"Timmers." You laugh. "He's a hero and I'm a fan. It's like asking me if I'm ever going to date a billionaire. It's impossible. Not written in the stars. It's a groundless dream."

"Yeah?" His own heart cracks a little when you mention a billionaire.

"Yeah." You smile. "Now do your work. You have a GPA to take care of."

"Got it."

Tim finds that nearing the end of the semester, you meet with him less and less, tutoring him on Zoom instead, apologizing, explaining that you had a ton of creative work due for your other classes. You had been planning on graduating early, he finds out. It was your freshman year, and you were trying to get your sophomore classes out of the way. He was bothered. It was incredible — the sheer amount of classes you took. It was more impressive that you had time to write your own creative works.

"So?"

"How did you score last time? I'm starting to think you have me tutor you still because you're into me." You joke.

"Ninety. All we have left is the stupid final."

"You're set then." You yawn. "Why still have me tutor you?"

Your mind wanders as you click on one of your assignments. "Oh, how about this, then? I have an interview I need to conduct for my journalism class, and you'd be the perfect candidate. I'm expected to record it in the building and it's due in three days."

"Three days?"

"I bet you have everything out of the way, huh?" You smile at him, batting your lashes. "Hm?"

Tim, does, in fact, have everything out of the way.

"And if I don't?" He likes teasing you.

"Then I'll ask one of my friends. The topic is the discussion of a topic you aren't familiar with. You're good with coding, something I can't do past basic HTML to edit how text looks." You hum. "I'm grappling at every excuse I can to hang out with you, if you can't tell."

"Oh, I definitely can."

"Great." You smile. "How does tomorrow at 8 in the morning sound?"

"So early?" Tim raises a brow.

"I'll bring us coffee. Give me your order."

"Sold."

Tim realizes at 3am that you never gave him a dress code. Should he show up in casual? Business casual? Semi-formal? Formal — no, formal attire seemed like too much. He grimaces as he's in the Batcave, irritation all over his face.

"Something wrong, Timmers?" Dick raises a brow.

"Yeah. What do you wear to an interview?"

"Depends what kind." Bruce answers, pulling the cowl from his head. "Who's the interviewer? Is it official?"

"A friend is interviewing me for a project."

"Final project or just a project?"

"Forgot to ask."

"You can't go wrong with semi-formal. Dress like old money." Dick hums. "Polo shirt and khakis. Throw in a sweater tied around your neck and you should be good to go."

"I agree." Bruce hums.

"Do you need to impress said friend?" Jason raises a brow from behind the two.

"Wh-what does that have to do with the interview?"

Jason smirks at the stutter. "Get Steph to dress you. She'd make you look good and dress for the occasion."

"I think I'll go with Dick's—"

"Half-buttoned dress shirt and dress pants." Steph cuts in, pausing. "No, that'll make you look desperate. Grey sweats, blazer, and a white tee. Dark colored blazer but NOT black."

"Why can't I just wear a polo shirt and just—"

"You want to look good, right? Roll the sleeves up to right before your elbows. Mess up your hair a little too."

Tim sighs. "It's winter."

"Drake. Do you want to look good for your crush?" Damian cuts in.

"She's not a crush-"

"Last time you said that you were still pining after your ex." Steph laughs. "If you really want to look casual just wear what you normally wear but add some perfume."

"She's interviewing me for my major." Tim finally gets to speak.

"Then just dress like you normally do." Dick pats him on the back with a laugh. "Hoodie and sweats. Wear a tee underneath if in case you get hot so you can pull it over your head and she can watch."

"Hey-"

"I agree with that." Steph smiles. "If you're lucky, your shirt will ride up a little and she'll get to see—"

"Got it!" Tim yells, groaning. "My usual clothing it is. I'll bring a blazer in case she does want me to dress semi formal."

"Attaboy." Bruce ruffles his hair as he makes his way up.

Tim groans. He's not going to get enough sleep for this.

You call him in the morning when the coffee shop you frequent isn't open.

"Mm?" Tim furrows his brows, morning voice evident.

"Coffee shop closed. You mind if I just make one at the convenience store for you?"

"Knock yourself out. You're early."

"I need to set up the equipment." You hum.

"What color should I wear?"

"Something not green. I'm in red. See you in an hour."

"See you." Tim mumbles back, ending the call. He sits up, bed hair evident, staring at himself in the mirror. The exhausted part of himself wants to go back to sleep, but the better part of him — the giddy, excited, coming-of-age-has-a-crush-on-someone part of him — has him sit up from sheer willpower. (something he finds he has a lot of when it comes to you) He gets out of bed, pulling for the clothes he prepped the night before, combing his hair for once. He'd like to look nice for the camera, for you, he thinks. It would be a little frustrating to see the stand-in CEO of WE dress so casually. He has some sort of reputation to hold up when he isn't a student. Though he supposes he's being interviewed as a student, so there's not much of a need to dress so well.

But he supposes he wants to impress you.

He arrives five minutes before 8, locking his car and knocking on the door to the room.

"Hey," You smile at him.

"You didn't lock the door." He locks it behind him. "In Gotham during winter?"

"I knew you'd be here early." You adjust the cameras. "Your coffee's on the table."

"Thank you," He takes off his coat, hanging it on the rack. "Can I know what questions you'll be asking me?"

"Next to your coffee." You yawn. "You're dressed nice."

"Is it too little?" He smiles at you apologetically.

"No. Not at all." You smile. "Not when I'm dressed like," You motion at yourself. "This."

"You look like a friend." He points.

"Honored." You laugh. "The cameras are set up. I rented the room until 11. Take your time with the coffee."

"You're asking about me?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "The goal is to gradually have you talk about why you chose your major so we can have a relatively deep conversation. It's an intro to interviewing course, but the professor's ultimate goal was to make sure we make at least one friend."

"Yeah?" Tim puts his coffee down, smile on his lips. "Am I that friend?"

"Yeah," You smile back at him. "You can ask me questions too. It's supposed to be a casual interview. I'll only ask you a question when we run out of things to talk about."

Tim discovers a symphony of information from you. You open your heart to him the same way he can to some extent, smile on his lips when he tells you about his days during high school and his earlier relationships, forgetting that this was an interview for your class and that you would probably have to go through hours of footage in response to this. The plush of the seat is warm underneath him, your voice is a melody to his ears, Tim nodding along as you tell him about the one time you snuck out of the house as a teenager and got your ass beat because you got caught. The smile on your lips is contagious, he finds. He hadn't fallen for someone this hard since his ex.

Tim took you to lunch that day, desperate to get to know more about you, desperate to know you. He would have called it a date if you had let him.

You had your laptop pulled up, sorting through the footage (the three hour long footage) of the two of you's conversation, nodding along and rambling casually, clicking through to cut more personal matters from the interview, only required to give your teacher a clip and the raw file's total length to prove that you two hadn't just staged a conversation. You take a fry from his plate, your sandwich finished on your plate, humming when you finish editing.

"Are you always this fast?"

"Depends on what context." You wink.

"You were pretty fast to upload those new Red Robin photos too." If he noticed the sexual connotation of your words, he didn't mention anything.

"Well, other than lighting, I don't really need to edit anything."

"Speaking of which, do you even pay tuition?"

"Martha Wayne Scholarship." You yawn. "Your dad is looaaaded."

You submit your assignment to Canva, yawning. "That was my last one."

"You finished all those writing assignments?"

"Writing comes to me like hacking does to you." You close your laptop, tucking it into your bag. "Thanks for lunch, by the way."

"Mhm." He smiles. "Glad you liked your sandwich."

"My favorite." You hum. "So? Any updates? New girl? New boy? Relationship? Your dad adopted a new sibling? What's new?"

"Siblings keep teasing me."

"Oh? For what? For me?" You press a hand to your chest, wiggling your brows at him. You burst into laughter when he turns red. "Yeah? Because of me?"

"I asked them what I should wear to an interview, and suddenly they were asking me if I had a girlfriend."

"Yeah? So what did you tell them?"

"Interview from a friend." His eyes meet yours, eerily sincere. "Why?"

(the use of friend leaves a pang in your chest)

"Curious." You shrug. "So? Going anywhere for vacation?"

"Just Christmas at the Wayne Manor. You know, the rich people gala?"

You shudder, laughing. "Good luck."

"I'll need it. God knows who else I have to network with that night."

"Well, my dorm's open if you want it." You shrug. "But I doubt Bruce would let you leave since you are the CEO."

"Stand-in." He corrects.

"CEO nonetheless." You hum. "Should I send you a Christmas present?"

"What would you even send me?"

"It would be a surprise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Tim finds a gift from you under the Christmas tree, presumably placed there by Alfred. He had missed when you dropped it off, knocked out in the warmth of his bed without the pressure of an exam for once, letting himself ignore the cases he promised himself he'd solve. He promised you he'd get one day of proper sleep. Your texts are the only ones that cause his phone to vibrate during break. (He's down horrendously bad for you, Jason had whispered to Dick while Tim had responded to your message, lovesick grin on his face.)

Distance gives the soul time to think, and Tim thinks he's in love with you.

It comes as a revelation on Christmas morning, coffee mug warm in his hand as he watches his siblings open their Christmas gifts, laughing at certain ones and holding back his face from a smile breaking past his lips at others. He's third on the list to open his gifts, third son and all, and Tim finishes the last of his coffee, fingers reaching for his presents, all wrapped in a shade of red different from Jason's blood red. He thanks everyone for their gifts, raising a brow in amusement when he pulls out Damian's, a genuine smile breaking on his smile at Bruce's. Finally, he finds himself reaching for the gift you had gotten him, his fingers shaking as he breaks open the wrapping paper, smile on his face at the camera you got him. There's even an SD card and a battery charger part of the box you had prepped him.

"Oooh, Timmers is that from your girlfriend?"

"She's not my—"

The family breaks into teasing remarks as Tim groans, blush fresh on his skin, heart racing in his ears — that's when he realizes, the painful realization, a realization that breaks him into silence — he's in love with you.

Bruce has everyone move on as Steph sits down to open her gifts, and Tim's throat dries at the epiphany. He's in love with you — and that same lovesick smile breaks on his face as he wonders if you got his Christmas present. It was as if the two of you synced with the gift. Maybe he'd catch you taking photos of him with your camera. This time, he should stare back at you, flash you a smile, strike a pose, something, anything to fluster you. He was already looking forward to patrol that night. He picks up his mug, excusing himself quietly to get another cup of coffee, pulling his blanket with him as he clicks on his phone, placing his cup under the machine as he thanks you for the gift.

You respond immediately, video-calling him on accident, flustered state caught on camera, hair still a mess from waking up.

"I'm so sorry—"

Tim laughs. "It's fine. Are you home?"

"No. I slept over at a friend's place since my mom and I don't celebrate Christmas." You smile at him fondly. "I brought the gift you mailed to me, though. I haven't opened it yet."

"Let's say it's for your bird watching."

"You did not." You gasp, looking over your phone. "I'll have my friend record a video when we rip open our presents. Have fun on Christmas, Tim. Love you lots—"

Tim's face turns utterly red at the words, blinking wide-eyed at the now-ended call. You just... wow. He takes his mug of coffee, sitting back at his old seat where his siblings were, in a half-blissed-out state at your words. (He's told later on by your friend that you had sobbed into her chest when you realized you told him you loved him on accident.)

You text him sometime during the afternoon with the video of you opening your present, thanking him for his generous gift. You let him know that you'd send him your new photos with his present first, letting him see how good the quality of his camera could be. He texts you to sit on your dorm roof instead, and you ask if he was planning on kidnapping you. Maybe you'd let him take you for a swing. Instead, he tells you it's a present for your fanpage. You ask him if he's going to call Red Robin himself. He leaves you on read.

Bruce notices the way Tim's eerily giddy for a Christmas patrol, but he doesn't comment on it.

You exhale into the winter air, the cold piercing your lungs as you hold the camera between your gloved fingers, kicking your legs as you sit on the edge of the building, strap hung around your neck. You hum quietly as you watch the snow start, and a shadow looms over your shoulder.

"Hey." Tim smiles at you, Red Robin outfit on.

"Woah. He wasn't lying." You gasp. Your name spills past your lips, rambling about how you were his biggest fan. He stares at you through the whites of his domino mask, smile breaking onto his face.

"I've seen your Twitter."

"Yeah?" You exhale, eyes sparkling. "Honored. I hope you aren't going out of your way to visit me or anything. Gotham needs their vigilantes."

"And if I am?"

"Then you should go." Your cheeks flush from the winter warmth, and he steps close to you, forehead pressed to yours.

"You remember me from Halloween?"

"We have a thing with meeting on holidays, hm?" You laugh gently, eyes crinkling, Tim's expression softening.

"Yeah, we do." He hums, leaning in further. "May I?"

"Yeah." You exhale, lips finally pressed to his under the winter snow, his hands warm on your face as you lean in closer to him, chest pressed to his, lips parted to give him access to your mouth. Your head spins deliciously from the taste of his lips, his perfume reminding you of someone you know all too well, your mind muddled with the fact that you're actually making out with Red Robin, your celebrity crush. You whimper against his lips when he nips at your bottom one, his breath catching in his throat.

"Fuck, pretty girl. You can't just do that." He heaves, resting his forehead on yours again.

"Wow." You breathe, starstruck, eyes staring up at his.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You laugh melodiously, and Tim feels his heart grow full. "Can I get a photo?"

"For you? Anything."

You make a Christmas post on your Twitter, photo of Red Robin with a Santa hat and white beard staying pinned for the Holiday season. (Tim wasn't allowed to live it down from his family, but he had gotten to kiss you stupid, so he was more than willing to take the jabs.)

He invites you to his place for New Year's Eve, invitation tumbling past his lips and nearly getting drowned out by his panicked rambling, cheeks red beyond repair and stutter catching in his throat, only for you to tell him that you'd "love to" and that you were "honored." You asked him if there was a dress code, and he told you it was fine. Even if the Wayne gala was that night, he would just sneak to his room when you arrived. He could finish socializing with the rich in a couple of minutes. Hell, he'd flirt his way out of it like Bruce did if it meant he could see you early. He tells you to arrive in a nice dress anyway, asking for your measurements so he could send you something. (You didn't want to give it to him, but he insisted.)

You pull up to the gala perfectly on time, ignoring the paparazzi asking you who invited you and making a beeline to who you assumed was Alfred and asking him if you could be taken to Tim's room. The gala wasn't somewhere you wanted to be, and Alfred had been more than welcoming, leading you and leaving you in Tim's room, telling you to make yourself comfortable since you were Tim's guest. You spent twenty minutes looking through his photobooks before he stumbled into his room, a little sweaty since he had been running.

"Hey." He smiles at you dorkily, smiling like a nerd in love.

"Wow. You're dressed nice." You mumble, staring him up and down.

"You don't look too bad yourself," He hums, locking his door behind himself. "Did you get to eat anything?"

"I ate before I came and made a beeline for Alfred when I came. Too many cameras."

"Sorry." He exhales. "Looking at my photos?"

"They're nice."

"They're from years ago." He hums. "Before my parents passed."

You mumble something under your breath, eyes meeting his in something akin to sadness.

"It's fine, now." Tim presses his thumb to the space between your brows, your expression relaxing immediately.

"Ah, right." You slip out the SD card from your purse, blinking at him. "You have a card reader?"

"Yeah." Tim sits in his chair, opening his laptop through some series of codes, holding his hand out for your SD card.

You drop it in his palm, his fingers drumming against the table as he opens the files.

"I got photos of Red Robin." You grin. "He was there on my dorm roof. Did you send him?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "Did you like the gift?"

"My Twitter loved it." You smile. You neglect to tell him that you had kissed Red Robin breathless. (Tim doesn't notice the way you get embarrassed, trying to fight off the red on his own cheeks when he remembers the way the two of you had made out on the roof.)

Tim pauses at the photo of him swinging away.

"Why didn't you post this one?"

"I was actually planning on posting it today." You hum. "The ones of him in action."

"You have multiple?"

You click into a folder, enter your password, showing him the photos.

"The camera's great, by the way. Red Robin may not have an ass as impressive as Nightwing, but he still has a nice ass." You laugh, clicking open the photos. Tim chokes on the air at the photos, and he laughs.

"Oh, yeah, Twitter would love this."

You shrug playfully. "What can I say? It pays."

Tim glances at the clock on the wall. Two minutes from midnight.

"How'd you spend the morning?"

"My friend came to pick me up so she could do my makeup." You laugh. "Then she brought me to the mall so we could get me some heels," You kick your legs to show him. "And then another friend, the one with a nice car, drove me here. My other friends insisted they watch me walk off to you. I forgot to tell them your last name after I asked for it, so they were quite surprised when they dropped me off her."

"Maybe I should thank your friends for helping you look so pretty."

"Yeah?" You smile, hopping to sit on his desk.

He stands up, pressing his forehead to yours, tucking your hair behind your ear, nose brushing yours.

"Yeah. What do they like?" Tim hums, your perfume flooding his senses again, his doing the same.

"Ever been told you share a perfume with Red Robin?" You whisper.

"No. You'd be the first."

"What's the brand?"

The brand falls onto silence as you press your lips to his, fireworks signaling the new year going off in the back. Tim's hands dig into your waist, eyes half-lidded, tongue pressing into yours with so much passion your knees might've gone weak had you not been already seated. Your hands find themselves tangled in his hair, pulling lightly when his hand finds itself on the zipper behind you. He pulls away for a moment, begging for your consent, asking if this was okay.

You had told him yes in a heartbeat.

Thus, Tim found himself enveloped with you, senses sent into overdrive, your skin pressed to his, sweat mixing with his, body tangled with his in his sheets — the same sheets he had thought about you so often in, the one where he had thought about you while he spilled into his hand, fingers pressed to your skin, mouth on your skin, sucking, biting, marking, doing whatever you would let him do to you. Your dress was long abandoned by his desk, his own suit leaving a trail toward the bed where he had you in his fingers.

He prayed this wouldn't be a foolish dream.

When he wakes in the morning, pulling you closer to his chest, your lashes fluttering against his skin, his heart warms. He should ask you to date him right now, he thinks. But his heart races in his chest, wondering if you would agree. Maybe the two of you had kissed in the heat of the moment, and you had let him have you because he had asked so nicely. He looks down at you as your eyes are completely open now, embarrassed smile on your face. He misses his chance.

"Good morning." He looks at you like you're his whole world.

"Good morning." You smile back at him like he's the universe.

The two of you fall back into the pace you had established the previous semester, this time without any classes together, only texting every now and then with updates. Tim hates this new life he lives. He misses seeing you during class and watching you play subway surfers on your phone or Bloons TD on your laptop. He opts for texting you during class instead, typing notes as he types responses to your messages. He wonders if you miss him the same way he misses you. He's too afraid to ask, still clinging onto the way your skin had felt on his during New Year's. It doesn't help that your department is halfway across the campus.

The next time he gets to see you, he's Red Robin, and he catches the familiar flash of your camera on the rooftop as he swerves into action. He finishes with the thugs easily, swinging back up to land next to you, your camera pressed to your chest, clicking capture as he raises a brow at you. You blink at him, smile on your lips. You don't look apologetic at all, almost cheekily. It was as if you knew he'd notice you.

"Hey."

"Hey." You beam at him. "Nice fight."

"Thank you. Care to tell me why you're out here during the February cold to get photos of me?"

"Because you're my favorite?" You blink at him, eyes wide.

"That's cute." He hums. "Shall I take you home?"

"Oh, if you could be so kind." You smile. "I had a friend drop me off nearby and I think he left already."

"Yeah?" Tim wraps an arm around your back, pressing you to him snugly, your arms wrapping around his neck. You close your eyes as the winter air hits your face, only for him to whisper into your ear. "Open your eyes."

Gotham looks breathless from wherever the hell Red Robin was in the air. Your breath catches in your throat, staring in awe as Tim swings from building to building, finally landing on the one where you dormed. You let go of him, cheeks warm from the air and the view, turning to look at him.

"Thank you. Thank you a lot." You smile at him, Tim mirroring your smile.

"Can I get a reward?" He had meant it as a joke, only for you to press your lips to his cheek, his eyes widening at the feeling.

"Is that good enough?"

"I was thinking something else, but that works too." He presses his lips to the corner of yours, smile on his face. "Stay safe."

"For you." You wave at him as he swings away from your building. You look through the photos you had gotten of him, going down the flight of stairs to the elevator. You had stuff to post for the rest of the month.

Tim finally bumps into you at the convenience store one fateful afternoon, reaching for your wrist before he could even register that he was scared you'd run off. He blinks at you as you blink back at him, tilting your head to offer him an awkward smile.

"Hey?"

"Hi. I'll pay, um, if you'll let me have a moment of your time."

"Yeah? Yeah." You nod dumbly. "That'd be fine. I don't have class right now."

"Yeah. I'll take your basket." He reaches for it naturally, swiping his card with ease. He hands you your stuff back, and you follow him, popping open your green tea.

"What'd you need me for?"

"Missed you."

"Yeah? I missed you too. It's weird not sharing a class anymore." You press the tea to your lips. "Missed me or the insanely good sex we had on New Year's—"

"You." Tim smiles. "Missed hearing your voice."

"Awh, what a cheeseball." You snicker, staring at the green start on the trees. "Cherry blossom season is approaching."

"Yeah. So are midterms." He shudders. "How's your classes?"

"You know, drowning in work in order to graduate early." You hum. "I'm writing something right now."

"For class?"

"Yeah. For fiction writing. The story has to be related to something you've experienced in college so far and I was wondering—" You inhale sharply through your teeth. "If I could write about us?"

"As your friend or as the guy you slept with on New Years?"

You open and close your mouth. "Both. Yeah. Both."

"May I read it after you finish?"

"I'll share the doc." You smile. "Thank you. I've been meaning to ask you."

"I'm honored that you'd write about me as a college experience."

"Yeah..." You trail off. "Oh, did you see my Twitter update? I got these super clear photos of Red Robin fighting thanks to the camera you gave me. Thank you, again."

"You're welcome." He hums. "Doing anything on Valentines?"

You puff out your cheeks. "Supposed to hang out with friends, but me and my other friend want to ditch so the two idiots would finally get to hang out without us third and fourth wheeling."

"So you're busy?"

"Not if you want to hang out." You tilt your head, capping your green tea.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Yeah." You hum. "But you'd have to make it worth ditching for."

"Oh, then leave everything to me." He hums, fingers brushing yours. "I'll pick you up around nine in the morning."

"And what time will you have me back?" You tease, pressing yourself closer to him.

"What time do you want to be back?"

"Whatever time you want." You hum. "Please pick me up in a nice car your dad owns. I want to see the interior of one of them."

"Sure." Tim hums. "Any other requests?"

"How should I dress?"

"Casual." He hums. "Do you want to match?"

"We can color coordinate." You gasp. "What color do you own the most of?"

"Red." He hums.

"Owh! We can match red." You grin.

Tim walks you back to your dorm, staring as you enter the elevator and disappear from view. He thinks a little about where he should bring you, lips pulling up lightly when he remembers something you had mentioned off-handedly in your interview with him. He knew now.

Tim shows up at your door with roses, your friends peering from behind the door as you take the flowers with him with a light flush on your cheek. You're dressed completely casual, red sweatpants matching his red hoodie, grey hoodie matching his sweats. You smile at him sweetly as you take the flowers from him, and your friends pull you aside, staring him down. One of your friends, bless her, tells him to treat you properly. She jabs a finger into his chest, going off about how she didn't care if he was some rich dude — the same rules applied, especially when it was your first relationship. Tim's eyes widen at the fact, your eyes darting to the side, a little embarrassed. Your other friends drag her off of him.

"Why didn't you tell me I'm your first?" He whispers.

You pout. "Didn't want to come off as inexperienced."

"That's not something to be embarrassed about." He hums.

"You would've treated me differently if you knew."

Tim sucks in a breath. "Yeah. I would've."

"Point proven." You hum. "Thank you for the flowers. They're very pretty."

He opens your door for you, waving bye to your friends. You sit there, staring at him as he stares at you.

"Where are we going?"

"Remembered how you joked about being taken on a first date to Costco?"

"No." Your jaw drops.

"I have a membership." He pulls the card from his wallet, and you gasp.

"You spoil me."

"Save that for when you're actually inside."

You fake a swoon, smiling at him sweetly, lips curled upward and brows relaxed. Tim hums, pulling on his own seatbelt, handing you the aux to the car, and you put the flowers onto the backseat. You plug your phone in as he starts driving, and you blink at all the buttons on the car.

"What are these for?"

"One of them's for missiles."

"What." Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding." He laughs. "Most of them are for defense. Bruce's very into cars."

"I can tell." You mumble. "What are we getting at Costco?"

"Your green tea," He stops at the light. "And whatever else intruiges you."

"Can I get a Costco hotdog?"

"Yeah." He laughs. "You want a slice of pizza too?"

"Maybe." You scrunch your nose. "Moreso a hotdog."

"We can get whatever you want." Tim hums.

"Wow, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to woo me." You laugh. (Tim hates the way he notices your eyes crinkle.)

"And if I am? It is Valentines."

"Woah." You mumble. "I didn't consider that."

"Yeah?" For someone so good at reading people, Tim sure struggled with reading you.

"I don't know." You frown. "Are you trying to swoon me? Or are you trying to get into my pants again?"

"Whichever one helps you sleep at night."

You laugh. "Using my own words?"

"You speak better than I do." He hums. "Do you want your hotdog first or later?"

"Later." You unlock your seatbelt, leaving the car. It looks awfully unassuming on the outside. Great for Gotham, you suppose.

"I'll push the cart." Tim holds his hand out for you and you take it, fingers wrapped in his. He lets go once he gets a cart, handing you his membership as you show the worker at the door. "Want a new iPad?"

"You know, I should make you buy Costco for me." You joke, patting his shoulder.

"Two hundred thirty two billion dollars? That's Bruce's money, not mine."

You snicker. "You have it memorized?"

"Stock trading for the company." He hums. "Stock is currently around five hundred dollars per stock."

"How the hell do you have time for schoolwork?"

"Coffee and an insane amount of self-discipline." He hums. "And revenge procrastination."

"At least you have some sort of weakness." You finally catch the drinks aisle, rushing in to find your green tea, Tim following behind you.

"I'll get it." He hums, reaching and pulling the green tea with ease, sliding it to the bottom of the cart. "Want anything else?"

"Can we browse?"

"Yeah."

You wander through the aisles, a comfortable silence washing over the two of you before you decide to speak up.

"Does Alfred need anything?"

"He's probably glad he has the house to himself for once." Tim hums. "Almost all of us are on a date."

You blink in surprise. "Even the youngest?"

"Except Damian." He hums. "Bruce is out too."

"Woah." You mumble. "The house must be quiet."

"Yeah." he hums.

"That did not answer my question." You pout.

"I texted. He sent a list." Tim mumbles, sharing the list. "You don't mind shopping for my family?"

"No." You smile. "I like grocery shopping with someone. It feels warm."

"Yeah? We're in the snacks aisle, so let's start there."

The two of you work your way through Costco, checking off Alfred's list of groceries, double-checking everything over when you finished. Tim grabs a rotisserie chicken for Alfred without it being on the list, and he grabs a tray of croissants, knowing Cass would probably want something sweet to snack on during the day. You text your friends to check if they want anything, and only one of them responds, telling you she's good. You have a feeling the other two are hooking up.

"Anything they want?"

"No." You smile.

"And you?"

"Just the green tea."

Tim raises a brow. "I'll feel bad if I only get stuff for my family while on a date with you."

"The tea is plenty." You beam. "I promise."

You help Tim unload the cart and then reload it, rocking on your feet as he swipes his card, not even checking the price twice, handing you the receipt as he pushes the cart out. The worker swipes the highlighter through the list, and Tim takes a right instead of a left.

"The car's—"

"Hotdog." He hums. "Can you get us two hotdogs? Card's in my wallet."

You take his card and get the hotdogs, tossing them into the cart as you hold the two paper cups.

"What do you want to drink?"

"What are you getting?"

"A little bit of everything."

"Then get me the same thing." He smiles.

You wonder if he's going to hate the flavor on his tongue. Though it's not your problem as you fill the cups, putting them in the holder as Tim pushes the cart back to his car, the two of you loading it into his trunk.

"We'll drop by my place first, and then we can drive to the next place I have planned." He takes the drink, straw in his lips. He blinks at the taste, eyes widening. "Wow. That's a flavor."

"Certainly is." You smile. "Like it?"

"Tastes like something Dick would have." He hums. "I'll push the cart. Get in the car."

You sit in the passenger's seat, opening your hot dog as Tim comes back.

"Ever had one before?" He opens his own, biting down.

"Yeah. My friends and I drop by pretty often." You hum. "Love the hotdogs."

"I should do that." He hums. "Alright. My house."

You chew on your hotdog as he heads toward his place, the music from your phone filling the car.

You wonder for a moment if Tim was actually into you. You have no doubt that you're important to him, but it was a little strange. You had slept with him before. What does that make you two? Friends with benefits? Friends who have slept together? Plain friends? A situationship? You chew on your bottom lip as he drives, mind elsewhere. Also, what were you with Red Robin? You can't call yourself a fan when you've had his tongue stuck down your throat before. There was too much to consider and ask. Maybe you should just ask Tim. (You don't, out of a fear of something. You're not too sure of what.)

When the two of you arrive, You help Tim sort the stuff into bags, carrying them to the front door as he unlocks it with ease, calling for Alfred and Damian to help with the groceries. Damian comes first, taking some of the bags from you, Alfred after him, showing you where the kitchen is.

"Thank you very much for running groceries for me, Master Tim." He nods. "You too, miss."

You smile. "No biggie. We were at Costco and I figured it'd be nice to do the groceries for you."

"It's very kind of you."

"Are you Drake's girlfriend?" Damian's next, eyeing you up and down, a scowl on his face.

"No?"

He frowns harder. "You deserve someone better."

"I really don't think—"

"Demon brat." Tim's voice comes out like a warning. "Don't tell my date to leave me."

"Is she not your girlfriend? I would have expected you to have already—"

"That's enough." Tim warns again, and Damian shuts up this time.

"Shall I prepare food for the two of you?"

"No need." Tim hums. "We have reservations."

"You made reservations? Do I need to change?" You follow after him, waving bye to Alfred and Damian.

"No. It's at the diner. It's Valentine's, which means there's twice as many couples there."

"Ohhh." You follow him into the car, sitting back down as he starts toward the diner again. "Is that all you had planned?"

"Also planned to take you home after this." He pauses. "My home. I was thinking we could use the movie room in the manor, granted none of my brothers get to it first. If that doesn't work, we can use the projector in my room."

"Are we gonna have sex?" You wiggle your brows playfully.

"If you want, I can have you screaming my name loud enough for Metropolis to hear."

You wince, looking to the side, embarrassed. "Holy shit."

"Expect the unexpected."

"I'm going to throw a milkshake at you for that."

"Cry about it."

The two of you get to the diner just in time for the reservation, your regular orders already memorized by the waiter. You're a little embarrassed, but you suppose it's not the worst thing ever. Tim finds the time asking if you enjoyed the day so far instead. You pull out your laptop as you wait for your order, continuing with the assignment due soon.

"Writing?"

"Yeah. Writing." You puff out your cheeks, fingers flying on the keyboard.

"What are you writing?"

You look up from your screen to stare at him. You don't say anything, but Tim gets the idea.

"Need a reference?"

"Actually," You lick your lips, scrolling up through the doc. "I'd like to meet Red Robin again."

"Your date's right here and you're talking about another man?"

"Writing fanfiction for him right now." You deadpan. "Need to know his kinks."

Tim coughs in embarrassment, forgetting how straightforward you could be.

"For a commission?"

"No. Out of curiosity." You pause. "I was curious to know what he would be into."

"Why not base him off of me?"

You raise a brow at Tim, swallowing thickly.

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want me writing fanfiction of other men?" You ask him one question, eyes asking another.

"Yeah." He smiles. "Yes to both questions."

You close your laptop when your milkshake and sandwich arrive, and Tim kicks you gently under the table.

"So what was the other question?" He raises a brow.

"I'll tell you in the car," You smile cheekily. Tim knows what the other question is. He just wanted to see if you were bold enough to ask him. The two of you continue with dinner, catching each other up with your friends' lives, smile on both of you's lips as the sun sets and the moon rises, Tim paying as he said he would. You take his hand into yours as the two of you walk to his car, and he opens the door for you, joining you on the other side.

"Before I ask," You lean over slightly, lips brushing his. "Can I have a kiss?"

"That's a question too, but I won't say no." He leans in for his lips to meet yours, hand moving to hold your face, tongue swiping on your bottom lip, darting into your mouth. You moan into the kiss as his other hand squeezes your waist, and you pull away from him suddenly, licking your lips for whatever taste of him was left. You grin at him cheekily, reaching to wipe the lipstick from around his lips, your voice lowering.

"The question I actually wanted to ask was if you were Red Robin." You grin, wiping the lipstick on a napkin leftover from Costco. "And I knew you'd read it off of me."

"How'd you guess?" He tilts his head at you, eyes still on your lips.

"First it was your perfume," You smile. "Then it was the way you kissed me." You pop the vanity mirror down, reaching into your hoodie for your lipstick. "Not to mention the way your forearms feel the same. Both of you have a specific way that you hold me when making out. I think that was the nail in the coffin."

You pucker your lips when you finish with the lipstick, tossing it back into your hoodie, closing the vanity mirror.

"So? Where are we headed now?"

"My place." He mumbles. "Have to have you."

"You could have me in the car."

"As much as I would like that," He exhales. "That would be very uncomfortable for you."

"Can I have you in the costume sometime later on?" You bat your lashes at him. "If you'd let me, of course."

"Yeah. Anything you want." His head thumps as he stops at the light.

There's a long, drawling silence before you speak up. You're scared, but you might as well ask.

"What are we, again?" You lean over slightly to stare at him. Tim notices you haven't put music on.

"If you'd let me," Tim licks his lips, "lovers."

"Then lovers we are."

The second time Tim gets to have you, he's so much gentler, fingers kneading the skin between them, curling them inside of you until you're a whimpering mess, worried that you'd wake someone in his family, his kisses assuring you that all of his brothers were out doing the same thing he was, wining and dining someone they loved, rooms also soundproof. Tim goes back to you after that, soaked fingers and sheets, licking your cum from his fingers, eyes locked with yours the entire time, pressing his lips to yours after he finishes. Your eyes roll back at how lewd he was being, but you suppose it's what the two of you deserve after flirting for so long.

Tim makes sure you're properly pampered in bed, your legs twitching after your third orgasm, begging for him to fuck you, tears in your eyes. How could he say no? Not when you looked so dazzling under him. He seems to understand something as he pushes into you this time, pausing to drink your form in, still as pretty as you had been before. This time, arguably prettier. You were so much prettier when you were crying about how you were his, cunt still oversensitive from your previous orgasms. Your face twists in pleasure, crying about how you were unable to take another release yet relenting as Tim drilled into you. You have no idea how he has the energy, and you're too tired to ask when he finishes.

You grimace as he peels you from the bed, setting you on the tile seat as he starts a shower for the two of you.

"I love you." You mumble. Not on accident or out of habit this time.

"How long?"

You exhale. "Don't remember."

"Approximation."

"Since I fell at your feet at orientation, maybe." You whisper into the mist as he helps you wash up.

"I love you too." Tim mumbles into your skin as he presses a kiss to where he had left hickeys.

"How long?" You repeat his question, staring at him as he stares down at you, moving the shower head to wash the bubbles from your skin.

"Since Christmas." He whispers back.

You smile at him.

"Since I told you I loved you on accident?"

"Yeah." He stops the water, wrapping you in a towel, drying you. You hum in satisfaction as he dries the two of you off, your fingers warm around his wrist when you grow tired.

"Can we sleep? I usually air dry my hair."

"Yeah." He presses a kiss to the crook of your neck, lifting you into his arms as he takes the two of you back to bed.

"What tag would you put on our story?"

"Idiots in love." You smile as you drift off, and Tim presses his lips to your forehead.

His tag would have been requited love.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

heyy, maybe prompts 13 and 18 for mindy meeks martin??

‘’Shut up.’’ ‘’Why don't you come over here and make me.’’ + ‘’You have no idea how much I want you.’’

Warnings: smut, masturbation (there was a lot more to the plan, but it was getting too long)

my taglists are here (I added one for SCREAM) + you can requests here at any time

—

If you and Mindy were a romance cliché, you would be the roommates trope. Chad liked to make fun of his sister for falling into a cliché when all her life she’s been emphasizing on how different she was.

When your relationship became serious, you and Mindy did some rearrangement to the dorm. You pushed the beds together to make one big bed, tired of having to squeeze into one of the twin beds, and got rid of the shirtless Henry Cavill poster that the previous girl had left there. It was really not your vibe.

A sight left your lips, filling the quiet of the dorm. You had been playing on your switch while Mindy was sitting at her desk, working on her film class assignment. It was due for tomorrow so she really needed to get it done before joining you for your nightly movie. You had started this little routine as a way to unwind and spend time together, as if you didn’t already spend 80% of your day together.

You turned your video game off and called Mindy.

‘’I’m almost finished, babe. I just really need to write about this one aspect that I know will get me a lot of bonus points and then we’ll watch a movie.’’

You liked her cinematic-nerd side, but these assignments were getting longer each time.

Another sigh left your lips and you grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media for a few. Quinn had posted a thirst-trap of herself in a tight dress, either heading to a Tinder date or trying to attract DMs from the male gender.

Taking inspiration from Quinn, you put your phone down and decided to tease your girlfriend.

‘’Mind!’’

‘’I’m almost finished,’’ she repeated, her eyes not quitting her laptop screen. ‘’Give me twenty minutes.’’

‘’Mindy!’’

This time, she peeked a glance at you over her shoulder and groaned, feeling her core tighten when seeing your breasts pulled out of your shirt. ‘’Fuck. How am I supposed to focus on school work now? You know I can’t think straight when I see those.’’ Mindy narrowed her eyes, giving you a pointed look. ‘’Are you trying to sabotage my grades?’’

You gave her your best innocent look. ‘’I’m bored,’’ you said, reaching your hand up to your left breast and rubbing your nipple.

Watching you touch yourself and not being able to join you was torture for Mindy. She wanted to ditch her assignment so badly, but she doubted Mrs. Crane would find your teasing a valid enough reason to not give her a bad mark.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, groping your other breast and making it even harder for Mindy to resist.

‘’You have no idea how much I want you. I really, really want to suck on those pretty nipples, but I have to resist the temptation and finish this assignment first. Then—’’ Mindy’s face switched, giving you a dark look, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘’Oh, I have a lot in mind, my love.’’

Her words sent butterflies to your pussy, making it tingle with excitation.

Instead of being good and patient, you decided to push your teasing a notch further and rid yourself of your skirt and underwear. You parted your legs open and brought one of your hands to your folds, sliding your finger up and down a couple of times, drawing out a sigh of pleasure.

It was evil, but you were in a naughty mood…and craving your girlfriend’s attention.

The soft sounds coming from your mouth caught Mindy’s attention, a curse slipping from her lips at the scene behind her. Might as well call it a personal X-rated live-show.

You raised your head, eyes meeting Mindy’s before you raised it to rub slowly against your clit. ‘’Aah, Mindy.’’

She couldn’t tear her eyes away, watching intently as you now pressed two fingers to your clit, rubbing in hard, fast circles as your other hand pulled at your nipple.

You moaned at your own touch, then dropped your fingers lower and pushed two inside yourself. ‘’Mmh. I wish it was your mouth on my clit and your fingers instead of mine—‘’

‘’Shut up.’’ Her voice sounded deeply frustrated.

A grin crossed your lips. ‘’Why don't you come over here and make me.’’

You didn't need to tell her twice.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog 

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713​  @marzipaanz

[autistichalsin]

I wonder if you have thoughts on like.... the other members of his grove? and halsin relating to them? bc apart from rath and maybe two more, they all seem very dicky to me 🤔 and ya, halsin said it's been a burden, and being a kind-hearted dude like him leading a bunch of bastards that think so highly of themselves could definitely contribute to the stress. I guess i don't get it? the one at the steps by the bear is like 'hold on give them a chance' @ the bear when we come in but then in the same breath is like 'no step further or i show you my claws' and seems like has to be talked down from being hostile by third druid; then later when we stop the ritual she's like 'we stopped the chanting but that doesn't give you the right to be disrespectful to this place' and some rando other druid went something along the lines of 'you're overstaying your welcome' - im just thinking how horrible halsin's life must have been surrounded by pricks like that 😔

Short version: yeah, everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck lol

Long version: everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck, BUT you can see several who are having doubts about what they're doing, and many of them come back to themselves once Halsin returns.

There were, I think, multiple things going on here:

By his own admission, Halsin wasn't a very strong leader. He never had leadership skills taught or modeled for him before becoming Archdruid, and further, his promotion was under incredibly traumatic circumstances. The survivor guilt, the admiration he had towards the previous Archdruid, likely left him not wanting to fully engage with the role out of fear of replacing him or at least seeming to do so.

The refugee situation was noted to be causing stress at the Grove as supplies were dwindling (I guess we're supposed to forget Goodberry is a spell ANY Druid can do, lol). This would have not only sown resentment against Halsin and the refugees for putting them in this situation, but crucially, it would have given an outsider enemy for the Grove. Cults (like the Shadow Druids) operate at their strongest when they have a threat, or appearance of one, to unite members and potential members under. "We are the only ones who can keep you safe from these outsiders who may be from hell itself, who are using all your supplies and contributing nothing, who are the reason you're being attacked by goblins every other day." And Halsin, as much as I love him, showed poor judgment in going with the goblins at that precise moment, and with little explanation to the others. It shows where his heart and priorities are- always with the Shadow-Cursed Lands first- but that would not be an endearing things for his stressed Druids.

Kagha not only fell in with this cult, but unfortunately, she had a lot of what Halsin was lacking as a leader- she just chose to use this skills for evil. She was persuasive (something Halsin admits he wasn't so good at), she presented herself as being concerned with the group's welfare in a way Halsin wasn't quite able to do (since his heart was elsewhere), and her zealotry seemed preferable to the other Druids in contrast to Halsin's mixed attention.

This cannot be understated: the Grove was deliberately targeted by Ketheric Thorm. He knew from experience that the Grove posed a significant threat, and he ordered his underlings to make contact with the Shadow Druids and send them to the Emerald Grove, to either persuade them to carry out the Rite of Thorns or at least cause so much division that the social bonds collapsed entirely and the Grove was left too divided to be able to accomplish anything. Ketheric and the Shadow Druids were able to find all of the above weaknesses and exploit them effortlessly.

So then it became a game of scapegoating, which is a favored recruitment technique of cults. "We're here because of the Other, and because our leader was too weak to fix the problem before it got this bad. We need a new leader; a leader who cares only for us and isn't afraid to tell the truth about these immigrants refugees who want to destroy America our Grove by leading gangsters and drug lords goblins right to us! Build the Wall Perform the Rite of Thorns!"

No one is immune to propaganda and everyone is a potential target for cults. It very well could be that all of the Druids, even Kagha, were once genuinely kind people who were manipulated by the cult into believing their kindnesses would get the Grove destroyed; they took on the "it's us or them" mentality.

For the timeframe to work, it either would have had to be happening in secret before Halsin left, or Halsin would have had to be gone for a while; since we know it wasn't TOO terribly long but hadn't JUST happened either, my guess is that Kagha had been spreading Shadow Druid doctrine in secret for some time, and had been planning to usurp Halsin's position even if he hadn't been kidnapped. That just made it easier once it happened. (There is a formal process within the Druids to challenge an Archdruid for their position; I don't know if Halsin even would have fought Kagha that hard if she kept her true intentions a secret. He had faith in her at this point after all, and didn't want the leadership position. That's a terrifying thought.)

So, then, Halsin comes back, and sees evil ideas spreading in all his Druids, starting with Kagha. Depending on the player's actions, he may or may not know it goes deeper than her. He can also see that his reputation has been severely damaged, if not ruined, in his absence; almost none of the Druids have any respect for him anymore. So he makes the wise decision to bring in Francesca, who they have no choice but to respect, and backs away himself. At this point, he intends to return someday when the Druids have been deprogrammed, but of course, later he decides it's not worth it anyway.

So back to: how bad must his life have been surrounded by that? Well, as mentioned, my headcanon is he wasn't surrounded by it very long, if at all. He thought everything was just normal, until he got back from being kidnapped and quickly found it very much wasn't. Whether that's better or worse, though, is up to interpretation. What's worse- seeing those you love fall victim to a cult, or thinking everything is completely fine, and then one day discovering they've been sucked in deep and there's nothing you can do to persuade them anymore since they've come to see you as The Enemy?

In any case, Halsin deserved much better, and I like to think he keeps in touch with Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis after the epilogue, even if he keeps his distance from the Grove itself.

[noonaishere]

Online/Offline [C.S] - forty-eight | today’s prize is: Cash!

The game ended when Mick and Ryujin pulled a last minute Hail Mary and managed to kill San and Yeji. ‘Defeat’, the title said as it ended, the bean-shaped spacemen appearing on screen.

“Wow….” Yeji said. “We’ve known each other how long Mick? And you just kill me like that.?”

Mick laughed. “Hey, I don’t know why you thought I was so trustworthy when Cat correctly sussed me out for faking Keys.”

“It was literally Keys!” You shouted. “How did none of you believe me?”

“Um, I think I know.” San said.

“Don’t you dare.”

Bracken laughed loudly into his mic. “Please, Morn, tell us.”

“In the game before this, you:” San addressed you pointedly, “Voted the other imposter out, threw me under the bus, got Bracken voted out for faking something he didn’t fake--”

“Don’t forget that she reported my kill and then voted me out,” Ryujin added.

You laughed.

“Yeah, you reported your teammate’s kill and and then voted her out.” San amended his previous statement.

“And we won! So I don’t think I really did all that bad of a job. And also, that’s no reason not to believe me this time!” You laughed.

“Better than when Morn and Bracken won earlier because Yeji was third impostering so hard,” Ryujin added.

“Hey! I thought it was Mick!” Yeji shouted.

You all laughed.

“Cat, are you going to clip the part from earlier when we were in Decon and you divided Morn and Mick from the group?” 

“Yes, oh my god that was so good.”

2304273408: slut

For some reason that caught your eye, and your attention snapped to your chat. You saw it for a second before it disappeared and you would have thought you were seeing things if you didn’t already know that Quack was fast on the draw when it came to hate comments.

“Cat?” San asked.

“Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

“I asked what that looked like from your perspective.”

“Oh, it was like… you guys were almost done with tasks and I don’t know about Yeji, but I was panicking--”

“Oh, no, I was also panicking.”

The two of you laughed.

“So when me and her happened to walk over to Decon at the same time and I realized that there was a slim chance we could win, I spammed the button closed as fast as I could and managed to separate you and Mick from the group and we were able to kill you.”

“When I saw the doors start to close, I was like, ‘This is our chance!’” Yeji laughed.

“Wowwww…” San trailed off. “I’m going to watch that clip when you post it, it sounds good, actually.”

“Yeah, I was about to be mad, but it sounds like a great bit of tension.” Mick admitted.

“It was very cinematic,” Ryujin added.

“Okay, do we want to take a break? We just played four games in a row and I don’t know about you but I need more water.”

A chorus of ‘Yeah’s and ‘Yes’s answered Mick’s question.

“Okay, so… ten minutes?”

“Sounds good,” you answered.

Everyone muted as they took off their headphones and stretched or went to the bathroom or got snacks. You went to the bathroom and refilled your water and sat back down to the sound of crunching.

LeaBea: crunch munch crunch QuackIsWhack✅: So noisy A🌲SurroundedBy🌷s: MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH JohnnyYuta: CRUNCH CRUNCH

“Who’s munching and crunching over there?”

“Me.” San answered.

“Are you starting an ASMR channel?”

“Ohhh,” he said through whatever it was that he was eating. 

You heard him drag his mic closer and he began chewing the chips slower so he could exaggerate the sounds. Your brain went tingly and you spasmed at the sound.

“Gah!” 

“What was that?” He laughed.

“Ugh, you made my brain go all silly for a second and I got the jitters.”

YangYangGangGang: ASMR BRAIN!! A🌲SurroundedBy🌷s: SONIC ATTACK! JohnnyYuta: IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!

“Noooo, shut up!” You laughed.

“Me or your chat?”

“My chat’s making fun of me.”

“You seem to get roasted by them quite a bit.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if they’re friends or enemies at this point.”

A🌲SurroundedBy🌷s: FRENEMIES JohnnyYuta: I love that skirt, where’d you get it? So retro

“Oh my god, Yuta and Tree are right: we’re frenemies.”

San laughed. “That… doesn’t seem good?”

“They’re kidding. We’re buds.”

JohnnyYuta: Best buds A🌲SurroundedBy🌷s: The bestest JohnnyYuta: The budest YangYangGangGang: The buddhist SleepySheepy😴: The boobist LuciPURR: Booba? MinHoe: Aww, I want boba now :(

You laughed at them and the rest of your chat went back to talking about whatever they had been chatting about while you were gone. 

You heard a sigh as Mick and Bracken sat back down at their desks, shortly joined by Yeji forgetting her mic was muted and Ryujin reminding her.

“Hmm…” Mick’s icon lit up as he thought out loud.

“Got something for us chief?” Ryujin asked.

He chuckled. “No, someone in my chat just asked why we don’t bet on the games we play.”

“Ew.” You said. “Life is enough of a gamble, I don’t also need to bet money on it.”

“I don’t have enough money to bet,” Yeji laughed.

“And like, what would happen if one of us is really good at a game and keeps winning and winning all the money? Then we’d end up never being able to play that game again.”

“Mhm.” Ryujin agreed.

“Also,” you added, “Keeho can’t bet. He’d be canceled right out of kpop.”

“They’d cancel him out for that?” San asked. 

“Yeah, it’s like an image thing. Gambling is right up there with drugs and bullying on the list of Things That Will Destroy a Career."

“Strangely enough,” you said, “plagiarism is not on that list.”

“Are we talking about the incident where that well-known-producer-I-won’t-name stole a nightcore song and didn’t even get in trouble when everyone found out?” Ryujin asked.

“You know the one.”

“Shots.” She said with a laugh.

You chuckled. It happened a few years ago, but it still made you mad.

“Well, chat, you heard the team!” Mick said to his own chat.

Bracken laughed. “What if we just did a prize at the end?”

“We’re not actually considering this, are we?” Ryujin asked.

“I don’t know, it could be fun. What do you think, Morn, you haven’t said anything.”

“Oh… I wasn’t sure if I was allowed, since I’m just a replacement for Keeho.” “You’re a part of the group, Morn.” You reassured him.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah, we all like having you around.”

“Mhm!” Yeji agreed through whatever food was in her mouth.

“Yeji, chew before you choke yourself. And yeah, you’re cool, Morn.” Ryujin added.

“Definitely a stand-up guy.” Said Mick.

“Which is weird, because he’s probably sitting down.” Bracken added.

You all laughed. 

“Oh, um, thanks guys,” San said.

“Anyway,” you went back to the earlier topic, “for those of you in the chats who are wondering, Today’s prize is: Cash! Because we didn't know what to get you for your birthday anymore. We feel like we don't really know you since you moved out of the house, Susan. You never call.”

San laughed loudly.

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rachs-words •

[hermitknut]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Tag Game

@birdylion tagged me :D

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

56.

2. what’s your total AO3 word count?

440,219

3. what fandoms do you write for?

There've been quite a few over the years. Currently Goblin Emperor (slightly on the back burner while I unkink my writer's block) and Hands of the Emperor (just started dabbling, nothing posted yet). Before that Merlin, Green Rider, Realm of the Elderlings, Doctor Who, and Harry Potter predominantly, with little dips into Discworld, Sherlock, Sweep, Supernatural, Percy Jackson, Lady Trent, Life on Mars, Old Kingdom, Life on Mars, and MASH. I have some Narnia stuff kicking about in my drafts somewhere, and while I've never posted it I've been writing Animorphs fanfic for years.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Stairs Beneath the Heart: Goblin Emperor, a series of vignettes that runs parallel to the canon that I posted through the start of the pandemic and really enjoyed. It was the first time in ages I'd had a regular posting schedule, and the first time ever I'd had that much fandom attention on something I was writing - everyone was so lovely <3.

Take These Tower Stones: Goblin Emperor, the sequel to the above, a much more coherent and consistent story which everyone was again really supportive of <3

What Friends Are For: Discworld; Angua gives Vetinari the shovel talk. There's a big disparity in the stats between the previous two fics and the rest, so these last three were a surprise to me! I'm glad people liked them though :)

Fire in the Night: Merlin, somewhat angsty nightmare/comfort oneshot. Again, surprised to see this one so near the top, but pleasantly so.

The Michen Emperor: Goblin Emperor again, currently the bane of my existence because I can't seem to finish it (I will eventually, just need to unstick my brain). Really appreciate all the love people have shown it. Basically, what if canon but with smol!Maia.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably either Take These Towers Stones, or Red Sky (which is a tiny little snippet of fluff).

8. do you get hate on fics?

I've had a few shitty comments, and mostly I've just deleted them. I've never had any extended hate campaigns or anything, just people who mistakenly thought their dislike was worth expressing.

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Occasionally; usually though not always queer, normally pretty tame. I read smut usually without worrying about the warnings, but I'm a bit too shy to comment on it, and I think that extends to my writing, haha. Maybe I'll get the hang of it some day :)

10. do you write crossovers?

Nah, for some reason they don't work for me at all - almost a squick, I don't read them either. The closest I got was considering a fic where the characters from Green Rider had diplomatic contact with the characters from the Chronicles of Ixia series, but I never ended up getting there.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so - I should probably put in my Ao3 that people are welcome to if they like, I keep forgetting. I'd be honoured if anyone wanted to.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope; I'm very picky and not good at compromise, though it's something I'd like to work on one day. It'd have to be very low stakes and with someone very patient!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Lines of Silver and Gold (Realm of the Elderlings) is probably my oldest fic that is both posted and unfinished, and I have no current plans to work on it. I'm hoping that one day I'll be able to come back to it, but that book series was my thesis topic and unfortunately I rather burnt myself out on it, so it might be a long while.

The Queen Rider series was originally going to have two more fics, but those have been scrapped; fortunately it resolves quite nicely as is. Maybe I will put up a little misc fic with what I do have of the rest some day.

And on a more positive note, my Animorphs fic - it was originaly going to be a full written-through story spanning a considerable post-canon period, but unfortunately I lost the original in a harddrive failure and while I rewrote some of it I rather lost my enthusiasm for it. However, I have been reconsidering lately and might post what exists as a series of loosely connected vignettes; we'll see.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue is what I find easy and what I've received the most compliments on; I think this is because a lot of my fic is drafted "out loud" before I get anywhere near setting it to page, so the first iteration is often predominantly speech. I'm also often told I'm good at mimicking the tone of the canon, if I'm writing for a book fandom.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Research (I'll do it if it's something that will otherwise potentially hurt people, but other than that I have neither the effort nor the inclination), and making things messy - that is, I tend to tidy things up a lot and I'm not good at letting my characters get things wrong/communicate badly/etc. Good for fix-its, less good for creating challenges in the story.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am depressingly monolingual so I don't do it in my fics; as to what everyone else does I think they should have fun and do whatever they like, I suppose. Not enough knowledge to have more of an opinion than that.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter was my gateway fandom.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Ohhhh tough one. I'm immensely proud of the Keystone series (The Stairs Beneath the Heart and Take These Tower Stones), so they're solid candidates, but I also really like The Shadow of the Mountains (Lady Trent) and Miracles (Realm of the Elderlings), the latter of which contains possibly my favourite line of prose I've written.

I'm tagging @the-tao-of-fandom, @pipuhattar, @alittlefellowinawideworld, @nonasuch, and anyone else who'd like to answer!

[rockinlibrarian]

Two AO3-Writer Year-End Surveys that astonishingly don't have THAT much overlap in questions.

And I believe they were both originally meant to be "Ask Me a Number" Games so they wouldn't be as long as this is? But I'm using it as a proper yearly wrap-up. And I've done so for the past two years at least. So there.

I apologize to whomever wrote these surveys that I no longer have your info because I just dumped them both in a Scrivener file. I'm pretty sure I personally got both sets of questions from @uniasus. So that's sort of credit. Anyway, to begin:

I better put it under a cut for length, even though I'm afraid no one will click through. You can click through and THEN skim! I give you permission!

Survey Set 1:

How many words have you written this year? 36,643 new words POSTED to AO3. Don't even know how many words I've WRITTEN. But it's more than that.

2. How many works did you publish this year? Seven. And this year I didn't even update any previously posted ongoing fics.

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? Mayyyybe "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely"? Because it does a really fun job of combining characters from two different fandoms, and some of those characters were quite complicated to write and I think I pulled it off.

4. What work of yours has the most hits? This is always weird to answer when you've done Yuletide and inevitably the work that WILL have the most hits— and kudos, and comments (judging by one year's previous Yuletide at least)— will get them all in the very last week of the year. But AS IT CURRENTLY STANDS, the answer is "New World Symphony" — by a lot (936), actually, so maybe the Yuletide fic WON'T be able to catch up.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? I have a kind of complicated answer for this, involving my two new multichapters, because it's not so much more feedback as "not the feedback I expected). When I started "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely," I thought it would get more attention than "New World Symphony," because it's Gen and a post-season-4 fix-it, as opposed to the latter with its controversial ship. But even AFTER I posted the former, "New World Symphony" got way more kudos (and, as you see above, hits). Someone on the TUA Discord pointed out that it's about finding a niche— something can be more generally appealing, but it's got loads of competition that way, people may never find it— whereas they're going to come LOOKING for your weird ship if they also ship it. ON THE OTHER HAND, though, I'd also figured "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely" would get relatively more attention from TUA fans, because it's a bigger fandom than Legion…but instead, Legion fans came out of the woodwork to be the primary readers of that one! Now if they'd just go and read "The Magic Man of Oz" while they're here…!

6. Favorite title you used. If you stick only with titles I've actually PUBLISHED… possibly "Viktor Squares a Love Triangle" in "Beginning of Something Else Entirely." But my absolute favorite title I wrote this year is for Chapter 5 of "New World Symphony": "Fugue for Strings and Synth." It is SUCH a good title you have no idea. Maybe in three years when I finally post Chapter 5 of "New World Symphony" I'll say it again.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? No use of song lyrics this year. I don't think. I may have made lyric references without thinking about it too hard, since I do that in real life, but nothing's standing out, and nothing in the titles. No Sound of Music ones since I didn't update "Captain with Seven Children"…

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year? Um, Fiktor. Still. A couple just platonically, even. And I worked really hard to keep the platonic ones that way! If you ask I can still point out the places where my shipper heart was poking through…

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? Well, obviously Fiktor as far as / pairings go. But & pairings I can't narrow down, because I found so many fun ones combining the Legion and TUA characters for "Beginning of Something Else Entirely." Those characters were destined to meet! On the obvious side, the Chaos Couple of Lenny & Klaus is RIGHT THERE, but I'm probably proudest of pairing up Allison & Syd, who just— their relationships with their powers and their similarly checkered pasts, they're so good for each other, especially with Syd's post-Astral-Plane growth to lead the way. And speaking of the astral plane, Oliver Bird & absolutely anyone.

10. What work was the quickest to write? "Brother and Also Brother Home for Christmas" literally took me an hour, and part of that was just watching the commercial it was based on a few times. Somebody on the TUA Discord server pointed out that the Folgers Incesty Christmas commercial was practically a ready-made Fiktor fic and as the only Fiktor writer there, well… I responded. —I started filling this out before I spontaneously posted "Did Anyone Ever Tell You You Look Just Like Aubrey Plaza?" which was probably physically written in even less time, but I'd been telling it to myself in my head for a few months already so I'm not sure that counts?

11. What work took you the longest to write? No idea, especially since two are multichapters that are still in progress.

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? Well besides the two I started posting this year, there's "Captain with Seven Children" and "Tesseract" which are still slowly in progress, a couple more bits and pieces side works for the Legion/TUA crossover now-series, aaaand… I think that's it? How many is that?

13. What’s your longest work of the year? "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely" at 18,377 words posted so far, and that's not even counting the additional 2,248 I've drafted. Then again, "New World Symphony" has a LOT drafted, so with its 12,655 posted… no, with draft chapters it still only comes to 18,305, so "Beginning" wins.

14. What’s your shortest work of the year? That would also be "Brother and Also Brother Home for Christmas" because it's a retelling of a 30-second commercial. Unless you count "happy birthday," which is a piece of visual art and therefore appears on AO3 as having a Wordcount of 0. It technically has a wordcount of 12, which is still the shortest, but @destinyandcoins wrote those words, anyway. See... some number below for more.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you? ALL OF THEM.

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? For just this year, it's a tie between "Remix" and "TUA Masked Author Summer Remix 2024 (Umbrella Academy)," with two each, because I did two remixes for said event. And otherwise none of the fics had ANY overlapping tags! … For all time, it's still "Backstory." …oh, after I added "Did Anyone Ever Tell You You Look Just Like Aubrey Plaza?" I double-checked because I thought there might be some overlap with "Brother and Also Brother," but no, I tagged one "ficlet" and the other "flash fiction," and only one of them as "crack" even though they both probably count. And apparently "Brother and Also Brother" is the only one I tagged "pseudo-incest" in. Because they're NOT brothers in "New World Symphony," I guess. It might be… pseudo-pseudo-incest?

17. Your favorite character to write this year? I THINK it may still be Oliver Bird. He just keeps consistently delighting me, enough that I felt the need to squee about how much I love writing Oliver Bird on social media several times. There's also a character in my Yuletide fic that I kept having to STOP myself from squeeing about how much I loved writing, being that it's STILL A SECRET that I WAS writing them. I'll tell ya later.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? I had a lot of trouble getting into Diego Hargreeves's internal voice when I first started trying to write his scene in "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely," but once it clicked I ended up really enjoying it! I also found writing David Haller's alters butting in to a conversation to be an interesting challenge, but that one really did feel more like a puzzle, a challenge to overcome, than that it was actually giving me trouble.

19. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? I don't… know really? No, that's not true, I have been thinking a lot about the father/daughter aspects of Oliver Bird and Syd Barrett. Maybe it's me still missing my own dad; and I'm writing this crossover full of crappy or at least absent dads in both sources, EXCEPT for this foster-father relationship that was only established in one episode and never got to be explored further, but now that they're living together again post-Astral plane, I just feel like Syd and Oliver are going to be hanging out a lot, especially since she's been avoiding David— Oliver's really the closest thing to a best friend she has at Summerland now (though also now she has Allison!). I did throw that soup-making scene into Chapter 2, but I love the idea that it's just COMMON for them to be doing father/daughtery stuff around all the time, and maybe you'll see more of it in the chapters to come.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most? None are really sticking out. Either "New World Symphony" or "Beginning of Something…"

21. How many kudos in total did you get this year? Again with I KNOW I'm going to get a boatload in this last week on the Yuletide, and I just posted another new fic that has gotten two kudos in the twenty-four hours since I posted it, so— as of me writing this it's 156. Oh, and that's just on new fics! I got a lot of kudos on old fics, too! ("The Invitation" is still going strong at #1)

22. Which work has the most comments? Currently (again, Yuletide people are so good at leaving comments, so this may change in the next week) it's "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely" with 36! And most are from Legion fans! Holy Legion fans Batman! To cross your Marvel/DC streams!

23. Did you do any collaborative works this year? Yes, technically! The TUA Masked Author event was focused on Remixes, and I did TWO! One was an elaboration on a drabble written by @faithfulcat111 , the other was an actual piece of VISUAL ART based on @destinyandcoins' "Notes from Nowhere" when I realized I could actually do art for it that didn't require me to draw people!

24. Did you write any gifts this year? YES BUT I CAN'T TELL YOU WHAT YET. Unless you count the remixes, which were also kind of gifts for their original writers. I mean I would have considered a remix of my work a gift at least.

25. Did you receive any gifts this year? Yes! TWO! One proper Yuletide gift and a BONUS one in Yuletide Madness! I do a happy dance! But I can't actually read them for another couple of days! I'm still so delighted though!

26. What’s your most common category? Gen

27. What do you listen to while writing? This year I listened to my Legion playlist (combining the actual score-soundtrack with the needle-drops) a LOT lot while writing "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely," because Viktor is also listening to it in the story. But to be honest I listened to the Legion playlist a lot when I WASN'T writing, too. IT'S JUST SUCH A GOOD SOUNDTRACK!

28. Favorite work you wrote this year? Eh, tie between "Beginning" and "New World Symphony." Depends on what I'm more in the mood for. That goes back to the one I reread the most question, doesn't it.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? Okay, the next survey breaks this question down farther, into beginning lines, ending lines, dialogue, and funny bits, so see down there, but I guess I can put my favorite lines that aren't any of those four things here:

He giggled, and Five set a new goal for the week: to make the little Russian boy laugh at every opportunity. —that was my ship threatening to slip in the otherwise platonic "What's In a Name?"

Less hopeless than he thinks? What did that mean? He'd have to deflect and think about it later. —Just the right amount of a look at the way Klaus works.

Blonde, conventionally pretty. The kind of girl she used to have to Rumor studio execs into not wanting as their lead. —Allison's first impression of Syd is just exactly what she would think.

[Allison to Syd Re: the Birds]: "You're their daughter?" Syd startled, then slowly broke into a wry smile. "Well….Yes." She nodded sharply, as if she'd only just decided this. "In a way. The Birds have been second parents to me. Sometimes more literally than others." --Because! Like I said in #19 above. I just feel like Syd genuinely considers the Birds to be her parents now, and she's maybe not put it into words until this moment.

It wasn't like someone could sneak up on Viktor. Especially not someone with his own musical motif— a high, looping piano, melodic lines joining in canon. —there is so much potential for the ways Viktor's powers could work, and I love coming up with new ones.

"OH." Cary's eyes lit up. He started shaping an imaginary sphere in his hands. "I invented— but I didn't, you see, that's the fascinating part— this orb came from the future to kidnap David and warn him about this— catastrophic future if he didn't— well, I don't know, but I do know my own work, and I could tell I invented it— but that future never happened and I never did invent the orb, but the orb itself," he emphatically tapped the table, "remained." —It's just so Cary, and I've missed writing Cary.

On the lower level was a big round atrium with a large tableau in the center: a hill of real plants and trees and taxidermied mountain goats, as if the building in the middle of the forest couldn't bear to remain separated from the forest by anything as silly as walls. —sometimes I write good description. Actually is this good description or just nicely metaphorical description?

"And, Viktor—” She leaned in. “When I say 'power,' I'm not just talking about the ability to manipulate energy waves. You have power just by existing in the world— in a society. In a family. You've always had that power, even when you felt the most powerless. What you choose to do— or not to do— can have huge effects on those around you, whether you realize it or not." —Melanie is directing this right through the screen at ME.

"Not me. I don't get to be loved. I don't get to be happy. I am…fated to wander from universe to universe, alone. I can't even get annihilated from existence properly!" —best single line of angst I wrote this year.

And the whole of Viktor discovering smart phones in "New World Symphony."

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year? I don't know. I am tempted to answer with some interesting facts I learned while writing my Yuletide piece. Oh, here's one: when I was first writing David and Viktor's conversation in "Beginning" Chapter 2, and suddenly realized I'd been writing Divad instead of David Prime the whole time.

ALRIGHTY THEN, here's Survey Set #2!

1.How many fics have you worked on since January? Maybe…9? 10 if you count "happy birthday" as a fic? I have a couple side things going on in the "Beginning of Something Else" crossover universe that I'm not sure how much count as separate. —Actually one of those was "Did Anyone Ever Tell You You Look Just Like Aubrey Plaza?" which I just posted.

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? It's not something new to ME, but I never POSTED a fic written in script form before "Brother and Also Brother Home for Christmas."

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.) I guess Umbrella Academy, by sheer numbers.

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year? Just three (and two of those in the same fics). Or at least I POSTED fics for just three— worked on some others.

5. What ships captured your heart? Um, nobody new. I'm still not a shipper, and I'm still inexplicably obsessed with Fiktor.

6. What characters captured your heart? All…of them? I've never written so much Klaus before this year, and he kind of writes himself, which is quite fun, so maybe I'll go with Klaus.

7. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year? Nope. Spoilers for Yuletide I guess— yep it's one I've written for before. But I have quite a few obscure or at least rarely-written fandoms on my list so don't get cocky.

8. What fic meant the most to you to write? I think— I think this question is making me oddly uncomfortable actually. It's probably "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely," because it was my response to TUA Season 4 and there was so much negativity around so I was like "No, see this? I've got an idea. I'm gonna make it work. It's gonna be great." And I think I put a little too much on its metaphorical shoulders, and I got a little desperate, like I was going to save the fandom, but nobody actually cared so I got all Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria about it, like everyone was yelling "STOP TRYING TO MAKE 'Everyone loves Beginning…' HAPPEN! IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!" But then, like I said above, the Legion fans found it and made me remember everything I loved about it, so now I'm just writing it for the fun of it again.

9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? Conversely, "New World Symphony" was really just for my own enjoyment, and it's very happy because things are actually working out WELL for everyone for once, so I think that one was the most pure enjoyment.

10. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? Not sure any really fits the bill. Getting the Yuletide fic in on time was satisfying for that reason, but also unsatisfying because I know I could make it better if I just had more time…!

11. What fic was the most difficult to write? I don't think the fic ITSELF was difficult to write, but real life and the writing of my Yuletide fic were vying VERY hard for my attention. It was down to the wire, and I really wish I'd gotten more of the fic done BEFORE the last minute when I've also been prepping for Christmas.

12. What fic was the easiest to write? Not actually sure. Oh, now that "Did Anyone Ever Tell You You Look Just Like Aubrey Plaza?" exists— that one. Like I said, Klaus writes himself, Lenny almost writes herself (she's so much more crass than I am that it does take a LITTLE work to get in the mindset), and this totally crack conversation between the two of them definitely wrote itself.

13. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year? See 14 and 13 in set 1.

14. What were your go-to writing songs? As 27 in the first list said, I listened to the Legion playlist on shuffle. But if I had to pick just one song, at least to start, I'd usually go with "Darkness (Full Suite)" because it captured the whole mood best, and was also instrumental so perhaps better for writing than the needle drops. Though if I was putting the playlist on and NOT necessarily trying to write, I usually started with "Undiscovered First." For no reason other than I love it. (I just looked at the comments on that YouTube video and 2/3 of them are "Who's here from Legion????")

15. What was the hardest fic to title? "The Beginning of Something Else Entirely." I even put up a Tumblr poll.

16. What's your favorite title of the year? See #6 in Set 1.

17. Share your favorite opening line: "Klaus had more experience with the Afterlife than any living person, and this wasn't it." This is the only one I don't feel compelled to give multiple answers for, because how can you beat that?

18. Share your favorite ending line: My ending lines suck in comparison. Plus I have this problem of extending my natural endings with little epilogues. For example, I think my answer to this is from "What's In a Name?" which emotionally ends with, "They could make of themselves whomever they wanted to be," which is a GREAT closing line on its own. But then I add this little scene:

The three giggled through the keynote speech, drawing a cumulatively bizarre caricature of the speaker together. Ben had started the doodle, then encouraged the others to collaborate. It was silly and subversive and utterly language-barrier-demolishing. The tall blonde boy who’d joined their table waved impatiently backward at them, keeping his eyes dutifully on the keynote speaker. “Tyst! Our lecturer is speaking!” Ben added the tall boy to the doodle.

—which I ALSO love, actually, but it's much less of a closing line. Also, yes, that was Luther making a little cameo there. Don't know how subtle or not it was. I figured pointing out that his nametag had a Swedish flag and an aerospace symbol on it would be a little too obvious. The other ending vying for this answer is from my Yuletide story, which has even LESS of a standout ending line and is more like Very Short Concluding Scene than Epilogue too, but I love the imagery of it. Tell ya later.

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue: Conversely, my dialogue is my favorite part of my writing, because it tends to come easiest, and is basically hearing the characters in your head so— I have a lot of contenders, but I think I'm going to go with this scene (first speaker is David Haller, I add since he doesn't get a tag until far into the conversation):

"I heard about what's going on with you and your wife. And all I can say is, time travel sucks ass." The irritable jitters were back. "Hey, let me pose a scenario for you guys. Is it cheating to hook up with a future version of your own girlfriend?" Diego and Luther exchanged a glance. "What, like…in the future?" "Whenever. She came from the future. You went to— time travel. It's confusing, is what I'm saying." Luther frowned, and drew in the air as if connecting the dots. "Well, is that really different than hooking up in the future without time travel?" "That's what I said! But if there's also a version of you in her future, who's very different from you now—" "So you're cheating on yourself?" Diego clarified. "No, they broke up. And that future ended up not happening." "So it's a separate timeline." "But they're still the same person," Luther offered. "Wait, no. That's like saying our Ben and Sparrow Ben are the same person." "But aren't they? In a way?" "No." "But you're talking about two versions of a guy who was raised differently from birth," David said. "I'm talking about a potential future version of the same girl." "So she was going to turn into the future one?" "She didn't. But she could have, is the thing." Diego shook his head. "Damn. Time travel." Luther looked sympathetic. "I'm sure if you just explained to her—" "Hah. Too late for that. She's gotten all kinds of new ways to be pissed at me since. This is where Divad used to butt in to remind us that we're fundamentally unlovable, but no, he's trying to self-actualize or some shit now don't even think of it, Divad, it's my turn, we need to be angry."

I love it for so many reasons. First, it just flows nicely, like you can hear these guys having this "philosophical" discussion, it's just how it would go. Second, I kind of lied about the first speaker, because it IS technically David, but he switches to Dvd during the first sentence (find the moment!), and it amused me that Diego and Luther are completely oblivious to the fact that this guy's alter personalities are having an argument right in front of them. Third, the seeming randomness of the topic, which sounds theoretical at first, unless you know (or until you realize) that it's not theoretical, and this has been nagging at David— or at least at Dvd— for a year or so and suddenly he's talking to someone ELSE facing time-travel-complicated-fidelity-issues so he can't resist getting an outside perspective.

Runner up: every single conversation Oliver Bird has with anyone whatsoever. Wait, I'm going to give you a preview of "Beginning" chapter 4, because this is exemplary of one of those times I just kept squeeing "I LOVE WRITING OLIVER" after:

"She's right, you know." "What?" He turned to see Oliver Bird poking his head out of a room. "Your— what should you call her. Conscience?" "You heard… Delores?" "Is that her name? Old-fashioned, but charming. Our Lady of Sorrows. Martini?"

20. Share your funniest line: Hard to choose, first being that I don't know that I'm the best judge of my own humor; second being that they inevitably are probably all in my Yuletide fic, which is the only straight-up comedy I wrote this year. Again, I'll get back to you on that.

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? I answered the first part in 30 above, but it DID change the story a bit, in that it made me way more aware of which of David's alters might be fronting at any time, and I realized I could do more with them intentionally. For example, the scene at breakfast referenced two questions ago.

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand? I keep most of my stuff in Scrivener, because I love the ease of adding interconnected files and pages, particularly as I tend to write out of order. I compile it into Word before printing and/or posting it. And I do write by hand, usually in the middle of a draft, when I have the basic shape of the chapter/work down and need to fill in the gaps. I also edit by hand.

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year? What drives me nuts is that I had an answer to this— I remember distinctly feeling "Wow, was THAT satisfying to write!"— but I forget what it was, now. Maybe Viktor and David's conversation in "Beginning" chapter 2. Talking to a guy with a dissociative disorder was REEEELY enlightening for Viktor on a lot of levels.

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? When I posted my Yuletide entry, I went to bed. It FELT like a special thing to do!

25. How did you recharge between fics? I was so busy in real life I don't think I noticed much. I just wrote whatever I felt like writing in the moment.

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic? *preens* as referenced in 14 and 23 in the previous survey, I made an Art!

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!) Two! The TUA Masked Author and Yuletide!

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank? First I'd like to thank @versaphile for doing all the research and posting it on AO3 on How the freak to write David Haller (Not to mention the deeper characterizations of his alters in "When My Fist Clenches…" which I was probably drawing on even subconsciously). And secondly, to Guest User Valerie, who's most recent comment on "Beginning…" was just what I needed to hear to stop feeling like it was all Pointless, made me feel motivated again. And thirdly, @sunnymarbles, who was sitting across the room most of the time I was writing and gamely put up with me speaking my thoughts out loud and occasionally asking them questions like "Which one of these concepts is funnier?" and also supplying a made-up brand name for my Yuletide fic.

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024? My annual round-up post of life events and media reviews!

30. What would you like to write next year? Continue "Beginning" and "New World Symphony" and maybe get back to "Captain with Seven Children." And as I've said for like the past three years now, I SWEAR I'm going to update "Tesseract" and finally post "Child of Hypnos"! But maybe this time I mean it!

[cheriafreya]

gonna share my thoughts on The Herta after prioritizing her over Aglaea...

TL;DR: a bit sad I have to miss Aglaea but she's too demanding, Herta has good value as someone who's gotten back into F2P hell, and her "powercreeping" was extremely exaggerated by the community, which is good. She could also give me the opportunity to pull for other characters I like in the future (Screwllum).

____________________________________________________________________________

So first off, I'm actually quite content with my decision, even though I like Aglaea more as a character and was hoping to get her for months. The truth is that The Herta is my first ever Limited Erudition character and I really, really needed one, especially now that the content is catering towards AOE damage. Also, as I commented in a previous post, pulling for Aglaea felt extremely demanding and I just don't have enough jades to invest in her, sadly. If I have enough by the time she reruns I'll consider it, but now that I've decided to go F2P... I highly doubt it. It's such a shame though, Aglaea is gorgeous and her gameplay looks super fun, but she's insanely Premium, that's just how it is and I've accepted it. You just can't get everything you want in this game, and Herta is way more F2P-friendly, which makes her the better option for quite literally any F2P account. You just need to own another Erudition character (which you own, because there are very good 4 star options) and that's it. Sure, she has stronger Limited options like Jade, but any account can use her comfortably and still do very well. Her only downside would be that she's SP-unfriendly, but I'm playing her with Sunday and I'm having no problems with that.

That being said, I do think she's a bit too overhyped? Like people were talking about her doing insane numbers and outdoing every single DPS in the game, and after trying her out in MoC, AS, and PF, I think she isn't really that much stronger in comparison to my Firefly or even Acheron. Where she really shines is in PF of course, I was actually able to get all the stars for once thanks to her, but otherwise they all seem to be quite on par. Which I'm honestly glad because powercreep fucking sucks and knowing that her damage doesn't make that much of a difference is a good thing. Unless I'm playing her wrong, which I don't think I am because she's pretty well built. In the end, it looks like the game's actual problem really is HP inflation, more than anything. Not that it's an excuse, as powercreep is still a thing no matter what, but at least it's not as horrible as it seemed... Probably. They still force you to pull for certain units because the end-game caters to them, so they still fucking suck.

But anyway, another good thing about having pulled for her instead, is that my Stelle can stay in the Firefly team along with Fugue to assist Firefly, something I appreciate because I don't have Ruan Mei. And! she also opens a few options for me to pull in the future for characters I actually really like, Screwllum for example since he's supposed to be Erudition as well. Or even Anaxa, who's starting to really get my attention. Overall, it was a good decision.

[ach-sss-no]

SH liveblog Ch15

First chapter & explanation | Previous chapter

Oh this is the Déagol dies chapter.

This is Part Three. I resisted utterly the characterization of Gollum as two characters in one body but quoted The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde anyway.

I set this scene in Deagol's POV for two reasons:

He's barely a character and it sucks for him that he exists to be fridged and I'm giving so much time and attention to his killer

I wanted to be differentTM

Déagol and Sméagol are having an argument about leaving the village.

"If you're leaving this village you're leaving it alone, my love!" They often referred to each other by such appellations. It had started off as a sarcastic game, after Déagol's mam had told them to stop being so rude to each other. Maybe it still was a game. They didn't really know why they did it anymore. Perhaps it was due to having no one else that would tolerate them taking such liberties.

I feel like I'm overexplaining a detail from canon that didn't warrant an explanation.

"How wild is it?" Déagol whined. "I just want to leave this stinking place, and all of the other awful piddling little settlements, and follow the River a bit, and if we find any travelers, we might get something nice from them. You're strong and quick, it would be easy for you. It wouldn't be so easy for me, with my bad leg. Have pity!"

Oh Deagol wants to be a highwayman??? What

''Have pity" to the character who will murder him and then end up groveling for pity is- super blatant, but creepy?

Timeskip to river scene. Anaaaannnd Deagol dies!

He will not let go, Déagol realized. Thief! THIEF! His last living thought was: How I hate him!

At the last he's more preoccupied with the loss of the Ring than with his own murder because the Ring is like that.

Cut to Gandalf and Pippin in present day. Their mild affection is- quite a contrast to Sméagol and Déagol, who were sniping at each other and both seemed like desperately unhappy people.

"Well, Mr. Took," he said, "and why do you wish to do so?" "Why," said Pippin, "I don't see enough of good old Boromir these days, and he'll be along. And I suppose I feel as though if Frodo can't go, it would be a good thing if someone else can, sort of in his stead, and it makes sense for that to be me, I think." "Frodo is no longer responsible for Sméagol. You, certainly, never were."

This carries a note of 'don't meddle in something no one wants to be involved in and certain others would give their right ear to get out of'

And after all I suppose I am a bit curious about him. [...]" "Ah," said Gandalf. "I must warn you, he is not likely to respond in a manner that pleases you if you interrogate him. I found that experience dreadful."

To be fair I don't think Gollum had fun either.

Tl;DR Pippin is going along and that is that. And so is Merry. Because he thinks he might as well.

They spent the time waiting in pleasant conversation. Merry and Pippin first wanted to know if Boromir was drinking his tea every day the way he should be. He was. Then the hobbits talked about whatever they liked, and Boromir listened. He was intensely interested these days in old Took family stories, outdated Shire gossip, and anything that had nothing to do with Denethor or with Gondor or even with Men.

Boromir stuffs his complicated family history into the back of the cabinet for a little while to have a break

Eardwulf shows up with Gollum.

"He's being carried!" Pippin exclaimed. And by choice, judging from how he was hanging onto the Man and babbling away to him. "Yes, he is. He is quite able to walk," said Boromir, "though his fashion of motion looks strange, at times. He was weak for a time and had to be carried, and it seems he has grown to enjoy such attentions from those he trusts." This reminded Pippin that he himself had unexpectedly become too big to be carried by friendly Big People, at least, not unless it was an emergency, and he felt a bit sad. He'd once enjoyed riding on Boromir's shoulders.

:'(

Boromir explained that Smeagol is carried around in part because once you set him down, you don't know where he is anymore.

"I am told he is easily distracted and will wander away to explore, and he creeps behind objects, or underneath them, and he is unexpectedly swift, and he has a knack for becoming muddy or wet."

Sméagol sort of re-introduces his new self to Merry and Pippin, who are now in formal armor and a bit more intimidating to him than they have been up to now.

He made a motion as if he wanted to dart forward, then caught himself. He looked around, suddenly wary, and he eyed Pippin's armor with awe and a bit of alarm. [...] "Pippin is a Guard of the Citadel," said Merry. "And I am a guard of Pippin for the day." "A guard, is he? Of this big place, the city of Men?" Gollum stared up at him. He looked very much as if he thought Pippin the one who was a figure from a tale, and himself quite ordinary. "Very well, if he says he is. Hobbits can do anything, can't they? Next they will be telling Sméagol hobbits can fly," he said, in a lower tone, to himself, "and he'll believe them, my precious." [...] "Is that it, my precious? No, no, they didn't come and see us, but they are here now! They are both here!" Gollum chortled to himself- a strange sound in his throat, like the burbling of a stream. "And Boromir is here too!

Weird chortling! He's learning new noises!

Gollum also introduces Eardwulf to Merry and Pippin, but instead of doing so normally, he does it while Eardwulf is talking to Boromir and in kind of the way a little kid will walk up to you and start announcing something they think is important, without any context whatsoever.

Something cold and wet touched Pippin's leg. He jumped, then looked down to see that Gollum had nudged him. "Eardwulf looks after us," said Gollum. "I see!" said Pippin. "He was carrying you, wasn't he?" "He says we doesn't weigh hardly anything, precious," said Gollum. "Poor skinny Sméagol! But- he is a strong Man, eh?" Eardwulf stood there stiffly and said nothing.  "Hello, Eardwulf!" said Pippin. "I'm Peregrin, son of Paladin. I'm very pleased to meet you."

The pleasantries over, they set off.

Gollum sat on the ground and observed Merry and Pippin. He seemed in no hurry to budge from where he was. [he's having fun lol] "Come on, then!" said Pippin, beckoning awkwardly.

They do successfully leave.

"Sméagol expects to see orcses today," Gollum said, leaning conspiratorially close to Pippin. There was a scent of rotting meat on his breath.

Ah lovely. And inevitable.

The premise here is that Gollum is being taken to a tunnel that had orcs in it but they left. They're taking him there just to see what he'll do, and whether or not it's at all possible to work with him even enough to bring him somewhere in a cart.

Gollum thinks the tunnel is probably not really abandoned because orcs would have snuck back into it after the Men thought it was clear and left.

"Say, you haven't got a sword, Sméagol," said Merry. "I've never heard of you ever having one either. Is there any particular reason you don't have one?" "Ha, ha! Does he think Boromir would give us one?" He glanced over at Boromir under half-lidded eyes. Boromir returned the glance. Merry studied him. "Say, I don't know," he said, "would you, Boromir?" "In fact, I attempted it," said Boromir.

Boromir gives an excuse but I'm pretty sure he just looked at Gollum and thought 'tiny. tiny man needs sword.'

Gollum and Boromir have had enough establishment together that they can now believably act friendly with each other when viewed by a 3rd party POV, with no more need to explain their motivations for enjoying each others' company by being inside their heads.

The conversation continues.

He withdrew a folded piece of paper and unfolded it, primly smoothing out the creases. "They asked us about our family." "Why yes, we did ask that," Pippin said.

Oh they did ask that. That was many chapters ago.

Gollum's tried to draw a family tree of his village.

"Gran did not like Sméagol's mother. She had to leave, and father had to go away too if he wanted to be with her." He lowered his voice. "Sméagol isn't sure he should talk about it, but the nice hobbit won't tell anyone, eh, will he?" "No, no, of course I won't if you wouldn't like me to!" Pippin said, handing Merry the paper ('oh thanks for that, Pip', Merry said, when he felt how slimy it was).

lmao

[Pippin] wondered what his own mother was thinking right now, about him going off for so long, and if anyone thought he and Merry were dead, and if any one of them would go home to find his things being auctioned off like poor old Bilbo had.

No they made that illegal after Bilbo was such a pain about it

Gollum starts talking about how much his dead parents sucked (apparently he heard a lot of vicious gossip about them growing up), and Pippin talks him into giving them the benefit of the doubt.

"O," said Gollum in a tiny voice. "That may be. They didn’t understand lots of things." "So- you oughtn't call your parents silly," said Pippin. "I'll bet they never wanted to die and leave you alone." "I... I do not know," said Gollum. "I won't say anything more about it."

He changes the subject.

"Boromir says Pippin saved him from fire!" "Well, sort of," said Pippin. "I went and got Gandalf and he saved Faramir and woke Boromir, and Boromir got up and saved his father, even though his leg was bad." "But they would all have burnt up if Pippin hadn't fetched Gandalf?" Gollum asked. "Yes," said Merry, before Pippin could answer. "Pip's a hero." "He saved them," said Gollum. "He needn't bother about little things, like who pulled who out of where. That is all silly. Like the master. Master got rid of the- the Precious." "You helped," said Pippin. "Yes, I helped him do it," Gollum said. "But it wouldn't have gotten in the fire without-" "Without Sam," said Gollum, with a warning glance. "Yes, yes, we knows it." "Oh, absolutely it wouldn't, but also-"

Having failed in his attempt to control the narrative Gollum abruptly changes the subject again

"What is the Shire like?" Gollum was tracing patterns on the bottom of the cart with the tip of his finger, "Lots of little hobbitses?"

They talk a little about how cozy and peaceful the Shire is and by extension that is how hobbits are.

"And they goes a-wandering," said Gollum. "Yes. Finds dragonses and monsters." "I dare say we are not known for that!" Well, perhaps the Tooks are, thought Pippin. Gollum blinked back at him, quite calm. "No? That was before. Now you are wanderers and heroes. Yes, yes! That is what they thinks of hobbits in Dale, ever since Baggins went. Now it is what they thinks of hobbits in Gondor. And they are right, because that is what hobbits really did." "Well, maybe you're right about what Men will think, but I'm not sure the Shire will agree," Pippin said. "You know, most of them don't think you're a real person, Sméagol." "They tells tales in the Shire?" Gollum asked diffidently. "Tales about- Sméagol,eh?" "No," said Merry. "We've got one story about Gollum, though." "Ach! Yes, yes, I know that story well enough," said Gollum.

Gollum is sort of playing with the idea of going home with them. In fact, this is what he did do, in the first draft of this fic. (That draft ended with him leaving the city, there is no gollum-in-shire content to share)

But by the time this chapter was posted I had revised the outline and knew Gollum is in fact going to choose to stay in Minas Tirith at the end, so he is shyly sort of getting to like it but not really and maybe in denial about wanting to stay.

Gollum looked suddenly, surprisingly shy, and his voice was quiet. "[...] the King says we might not stay here forever, and I do not know where I'll go." [Merry and Pippin try to explain that Aragorn actually will let him stay forever if he wants to] Do you not like the city?" Pippin ventured. A change of subject once again seemed appropriate. "No... no, we got lost." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I quite like Minas Tirith." "Why?" "The people are lovely," said Pippin. "And it's beautiful, I think." "Good taverns too," said Merry, "although perhaps you don't go in for that, Sméagol. [...] "Smooth stone," he said. "Sweeping tall things. [...] We climbed up things and we went up, up like a mountain," said Gollum. "Like a tree of rock, it was, and there was nice pigeons at the top, yes!" [...] "Yes, yes, the wall, it is high up! We could see everything! No. Not everything. Too much to see everything. It is so vast. So big," said Gollum. "Did he see the fountains? They says there are four. We only saw one."

Anyway soon after they pull up near the tunnel and Gollum vanishes.

He comes back a little later

They were in the middle of teaching Boromir to play cribbage when Pippin looked to the side and saw two gleaming eyes staring back at him. He leapt to his feet with his hand on the hilt of his sword, Merry following suit and Boromir somewhat more slowly.

and he's asking for water again.

But Sméagol is so terribly thirsty; might he have a bit of water?" His voice was tiny and sad.

I didn't realize how MUCH of a theme this was.

He gets his water and leaves. And that's that chapter.

[sadlynotthevoid]

Once, I had a dream where Og!Cale had been travelling back and forth between Rain City and Little Garden. Then he had to stay on his natal world for a few years, no world hopping for a while, only to come back at Azi Dahaka trying to squash his Kuro-noona's new friend.

He was pissed off.

Just to be clear, he didn't come back alone at that time. His previous travels had been just him teleporting from his room to Little Garden, and then back again, without anyone noticing. This one, however, was not his doing. Mostly.

It's just that he got bored easily and Little Garden's games were fun. It's just that he has always been good at riddles, so beginning with games based on intelligence and deduction skills was the logic thing to do. It was that he got luck and won useful gifts. And it was that winning other kind of games becomes easier the more gifts you have. And, maybe, it was that he didn't realize exactly how well-known was himself between the people there.

Okay, so maybe not having to act the same trash role as always has taken quite a big weight of his shoulders. He felt so free that he forgot to pay attention to his reputation. Running here and there, doing whatever he wants.

(Now that was a luxury he would never indulge in his homeland. Cale could buy almost anything in Rain City, but being himself was not one of them. That was the choice he made, because the price would had been too high.)

Then, one of the residents of Little Garden had heard about him and decided to challenge him. Cale had been at the Henituse County at that time, pondering the pros and cons of healing himself. The child and the foreign god had surprised him a bit, but it was a pleasant surprise. It has been a while since he had been challenged by a kid like this.

The god, some guy that got dragged as the responsible adult— a plant-based deity, if he had to guess—, is designated as the impartial third part. They're not in Little Garden right now, so an extra pair of eyes to act as a judge is necessary. And he won't lie. "Even if I wanted, I wouldn't be able to, since I'm currently under punishment from a previous game", is what he says.

The kid— a redhead with reptilian pupils (was she a dragon?)— also offers a nice deal. Most likely because she doesn't owns a Host Master Authority, she prepared a tempting price for him: salvation from an uncoming danger.

The [salvation] she means is, in simple terms, a massive transmigration to Little Garden. Of course, it doesn't apply just to him, but to anyone of his world according Cale's conditions. (If his conditions include almost everyone who isn't responsible of the threat, and maybe some more that are, that's between him and his guests). Is not Cale's ideal method to keep his family safe, but is the avaible one. Which is good enough for him.

The punishment for Cale if he loses would be just his strongest gift. A bargain, if he says so.

Sure, he likes that gift, is one of his favorites, even. But its worth is not remotely close to his family's lives. Besides, she's not asking his whole deck of cards. 'She would have to wait too much to play with him again if he did so', is what the kid said.

Naturally, Cale accepted.

He also won, but because they were too into the game, they ended up landing on the capital. Inside giant bubbles and with blindfolds covering their eyes. And just in the middle of the Plaza. He's going to have to explain a thing or two to his family, isn't him?

It was good then, that Little Garden wasn't ruled by a noble society.— Noble what? We have demon lords and host masters. Even deities don't get a pass.— Because there's no way his trash persona survives the inquire.

Anyway, the kid kept her word and fulfilled her part of the deal right there. In a matter of seconds, the stone floor under them became grass and their surround changed.

"Space control, my element", she cleared out. Definitely a dragon, then. And one of his world, it seems.

She looked so proud that Cale didn't have the heart to tell her she has just let out two big hints about herself. She's still young, isn't her?

But it was an impressive power. The thousands of people (and maybe even more) hadn't have time to panic before being teleported to a completely different world. Although it seemed like there were some people already grasping into the situation.

However, before they could start asking questions, a little black blurr flew right into the red haired girl.

"Noona! That old white lizard is back! The Rabbit-noona and her friends are fighting him!"

...What.

"Kuro-noona!"

The red dragon stayed still, blinking at the space where his new friend had been just a moment ago.

"Wow, Noona, that red human is really fast!"

Yes, he is. After all, a great dragon like her had almost not being able to see him leave.

Bonus

Bassen, after he met with most of his family: Where is hyung-nim?

Violan: I think I saw him over the front.

Lily: *sees a bright red blurr* He left!

Deruth: What?!

Lily, wide eyed: *raises her voice* That he left!

Bassen, still looking right and left for him: when?

Lily: Just now! He was like "fwoshh". Like a lightning :D

Bonus II

Izayoi: *about to be impaled by a bastard*

Azi Dahaka, the bastard: *about to open a new hole through this brat*

Cale, falling from the sky in pure rage: —your ugly-ass paws away from my friends, scaly-branded cerberus, discount hydra fucker!

Azi Dahaka: *freezes* what?

Izayoi: *snorts*

————

So, a few things more about this dream/AU:

•Cale's deck of cards is like it sounds: a deck of [gift] cards. Bro seriously did not intended to collect so many, but he was having fun.

•If you're wondering why or how can Cale travel to Little Garden and back to home, I think it was a present a sort of big deity gave to him. I have this vague memory of twelve-ish year old Cale sitting on a bed in a milky way-looking room, a giant pink lady standing besides him. She was really cheerful.

•When he is in Little Garden, he spends a lot of time at the No Name community. So much to the point he has his own room there. The only reason he hasn't joined the community is because he still wasn't a full-time resident of that world, an therefore he has some restrictions.

•Due to those restrictions, he can't use all his acquired gifts back outside what counts like Little Garden's world. Most of them get blocked or restrained when he goes back home. The ones who doesn't are the one who lets him jump between worlds, a healing gift and one that basically works like a library. The reason of this is to avoid a big disbalance in his and other worlds.

•Before this, Cale had been on a break from world hopping. He wanted to get officially out of the heir position before going back. With his 18 birthday coming soon, he had to do it soon before someone realizes that he's tecnically still the heir. (Then Choi Han happened). He hasn't seen his friends for almost a year.

•He usually gets into games/fights alone, but he's strong point are group fights where he can help them and use the battlefield like his own scenery.

•He had a gift even since before putting a step into Little Garden, but he wasn't aware. Is not something useful for most games, specially not friendly ones. Deathly fights, however... Let's say he can touch souls, and pulling one out of its body, hence separating them, is not something you can survive. He either fails and his enemy lives, or he succeeds and his enemy dies. He only has used it to pull a soul all the way once before, and it was a possession. The owner of the body was already dead by then, sadly.

•One of his gifts can be used like a warrior legion. It looks like ghostly samurais: glowing, translucid japanese warriors with an ominous aura. He got it from a war deity. (In my dream, he used it to fight Azi Dahaka)

•The gift he used to get to Izayoi and Kuro Usagi so fast was actually an object. A magic hooverboard, basically. Though he is fast, just thought saving energy would be better.

•He and Jack-o-lantern are close buddies. They met when he was thirteen, still so young and naive, travelling around Little Garden for the best sweets. Jack managed to trick him and then teased him about it (not to be mean, he was just to easy to annoy and his face went red really fast, looking like a red panda). In reprisal, Cale kept showing up near him, eating pumpkin desserts for a whole month. Somehow, they grew found of each other in a uncle-nephew relationship. Cale calls him uncle Jack.

•After the fight with Azi Dahaka, Jin presented Cale to the newest members. He and Asuka have a weird rich-kids conversation that no one else understands where they only spoke one or two words per turn (they were comparing life experiences).

•Yo, in all of her cat learned manners, measured him, determined he was not going to harm them, and blinked twice to show approval. For everyone else it looked like she stared at him for a long minute before blinking again. For some reason, Cale feels like Hans would be found of her.

•Izayoi and him get along like a house on fire. Izayoi likes to cause chaos and Cale likes to watch the chaos. Instant friendship. Although Asuka is absolutely sure that Izayoi has a puppy crush on Cale. (Idk if he has, dream asuka was always like "I know what you're" to Izayoi. Most likely not going to happen tho. Cale sees anyone younger than him like "little sibling aged")

•Cale finally joins No Name and some people of his previous world decides to follow as well.

•Lily and Lily bounding.

•Not really important but quite funny: in my dream, because Cale kept running here and there, kicking ass and being a decent person, but forgetting to properly introduce himself, he got an embarrasing nickname. "The Crimson Knight", they say. Cale was so ashamed when he found out. It took years for him to get used to it. Lily was thrilled once she heard about it.

[oh-my-may]

Hi it's me. Finished playing main quest in Wuthering Waves so lemme give you a few thoughts on it, and development with the game in general.

First of all I like the length of the main quests so far. Long enpugh to tell the story in proper parts that feel concluded, but short enough to not lose my attention. Overall gameplay for me for most parts of the story so far was like 2 hours I think? Very good length.

The final chapter focused more on Jiyan and the Threnodian more so than the Fractsidus, since their active involvement kinda came to a stop when Scar got arrested. They focused a lot on them in the previous chapter so that was alright with me. They'll save mlre important stuff for later, which is totally alright with me.

Something that WuWa does that I really like is giving us complete trial teams for certain parts of the story, so it felt even more immersive going thrpugh the battlefield with Rover, Jiyan, YangYang and Jianxin. Still a big fan of the combat in this game, I wonder what future characters are gonna be like gameplay wise and how they'll influence the playstyle and meta.

I like that we get scraps of Rover's identity and backstory pretty early on. They make it no secret that Rover woke up on the world before and had a previous life? And also the girl who wakes Rover up/gives them life or so in the very forst scene in game being explained pretty early on is very helpful. I wonder where they will take this story.

Also love Aalto and Encore. Kinda a sucker for quirky child with adult extroverted guy as their guardian who do shenanigens together. They were very fun.

The story boss fights don't feel too hard, which is very nice for someone like me who is only slowly getting a hang of the battle gameplay on mobile. Still have a problem coordinating my exact thumb placement at times. Me problem.

Final boss was cool. Havoc MC is very cool, too. Just MC on general. Still haven't taken her off my team, probably won't for a while. Slays with either Spectro or Havoc. Very refreshing. In hyv games I dropped MC at around level 50 and only took them again later (genshin with dendro and hsr with harmony now).

I'm quite curious to see where else they'll take the story now. The threat of the Threnodian is quelled (for now?) so the one enemy we have remaining is the Fractsidus. There's also the Black Shores ofc, who seem to know A LOT about the world and Rover'a origin. Very funny how I first thpught Chamellya was with the Fractsidus. Must have been the colour palette lol. Loved her though, but I'm curious to find out what her deal is and what she wants from us. They did tell us a few basic informations about Rovers origin and backstory, but its still very little.

There is still Jinhsi and the missing Jue. She will be playablw next patch and apparently Jue will be a new boss? Curious to see where this will go.

Thid leads me to talk a bit about current changes to the game. Because of certain improvements the devs want to implemdnt sonner rather than later they have pushed forward content by 1 week and already gave us Yinlin banner and second phase events. I understand that to a certain extend but I was really worried I wasn't gonna be able to pull Jiyan in time 😭 SO I decided to pull then and there and got an early, which was Jianxin. Wasn't gonna complain but I was kinda losing hope. Jiyan came through for me at like 40 pulls. This game has blessed me with lots of early 5stars until now. Idk if I'll get Yinlin, her gameplay is really cool tho. Gonna take some time to think. Bit since I habe decided to take WuWa more casually than hsr and genshin, where I am careful with who I pull for, I might just make a few pulls on her banner and see what happens.

I'm now at level 31 in the game and still have basically the entire map to explore still. They have announced that controller support is gonna be a thing for mobile in future patches, which means it won't be implemented in 1.1. It's okay, though. I have gotten a good understanding of most controls now and I'm starting to level my characters and look for good builds. There's just so many layers to the character leveling, and having the bosses cost 60 waveplates for the 2 drops you get feels kinda expensive. Apparently they will work on that too? Implement a system tp save excess waveplates when you have reached full storage of them like in hsr and stuff.

Overall having good experiences with the game so far! Really looking forward to future patches, maybe I might also save for Scar? Idk.

As always, some screenshots from my gameplay!

(btw gotta mention love how basically everyone is in love with Rover. Everyone they meet is immediately down bad. Scar, Jiyan, Yangyang, Chamellya. Jinhsi... same)

[lakesparkles]

LiS True Colors fanfic (prologue)

Terrible title, I know lmao, but it doesn't have an actual title yet. I'm finally ready to start sharing my fanfics, this being the first one here.

The main idea was "what if Alex had Max's powers too?" because I wanted to write a time travel story, basically. It starts after the ending of the game, but not an official one, I guess? I kinda mixed two of them. The beggining of the fic will be more Alex/Steph but there are a lot of mentions of Alex/Ryan in this prologue too.

Last thing is that English is not my main language so sorry for any mistake! Here's something I drew for it:

You can read it on this google doc or under the cut: (1424 words)

Prologue

.

.

.

Alex doesn't understand how doing exactly what she wanted can be so scary

Or

What if Alex had Max's powers?

---

  The bus gave a sudden lurch, and Alex had to catch herself from falling off the seat. For that measly second, her mind returned to the real world, looking around. Beside her, Steph was going through the same thing, cursing under her breath as she returned to her previous position.

  Then it ended.

  Her attention immediately returned to the window, her cheek resting on her hand. Outside, the trees and mountains were farther apart. Different. Quite different from Haven Springs. The realization of that knocked her over again, making Alex swallow hard as she began to think about how her own decision hadn't made her as satisfied as she'd hoped.

  Maybe it was because she didn't think it would happen so soon. I mean, Alex was never an optimistic person. Far from that. Because optimism never made her life easier. However, part of her had found small hopes just a few weeks ago, when she'd been on a bus much like this one: seeing Gabe again could be weird, but could also be good. She could find connections, comfort, and everything else she'd lacked before. She could make Haven Springs her home.

  She would be lying if she said that things didn't turn out the way her more unrealistic self imagined.

  And again, even that hadn't gotten her anywhere. For there she was, heading towards the opposite side of the country, just as she had started.

  Alex sighed, burying her face in her hand.

  "Look," Steph's voice made her reluctantly focus on something that was not her thoughts, "you might be the one among us who reads minds... Buuuuut something tells me you'd have a blue stain around you right now ... It's blue, right?

  A second sigh came out of Alex's throat, but this time, she too turned her head and smiled slightly. A sad smile:

  "I am really sorry. I think I'm kind of tired."

  "But already?" Steph didn't seem convinced, "It's the first hours of our incredible journey! When we're in Pennsylvania you won't even be able to stand up then!"

  There was a certain good humor in her voice, which Alex appreciated. She was already tired of all the disguised judgments she had received in the last few days in that city.

  "You're really used to traveling, huh!?"

  "I prefer to believe that I wasn't born for only one city!" Steph closed her eyes in a dramatic pose, pointing at herself.

  It was lovely. Alex's smile rose a few inches, until she noticed the blue stain start to appear around the other one. It was small and lasted a few seconds. Alex even tried to avoid reading Steph's thoughts, but it was almost involuntary: as none so far made me feel like I should.

  "I'm with you on this one!" Alex laughed awkwardly.

  She knew her thoughts would take over again. So she didn't even turn her face to the window. Instead, she slowly laid down on Steph's shoulder, giving the other woman enough time to stop her if she wanted to. But of course Steph didn't move a muscle, just resting her head on Alex's.

  The contact was still awkward. Something she knew she would need more time to get used to. It was just one of the many consequences of growing up with little affection. She now avoided and begged for it in equal measure. It was like that when she hugged Gabe for the first time after meeting him again: awkward, out of place and strangely nice.

  She felt her brother's affection in unusual ways, being when she discovered that he had bought a guitar as a gift, days before she arrived; or when everyone in town spoke to her with a certain familiarity during her first week there. "Gabe couldn't stop talking about you!", Ryan confessed one afternoon that he spent at her apartment, "He guaranteed that everyone would love you! He said that you could form a band with Steph. That you wouldn't even complain about watching the boring documentaries I liked. Scary how right he was... And now I understand why he thought that...".

  Every time she talked about Gabe with Ryan, she felt a warm feeling in her chest, in a way she knew she wouldn't feel with anyone else. The two understood each other and expressed their love for Gabe through each other as well. It made that anything but real, as if they were just two old friends reminiscing about stories and would soon see Gabe again.

  Affection for Alex often took that form: being able to pretend everything was fine with someone else.

  At that very moment, Alex had her legs on top of Ryan's. He gently placed his hand on her knee, lightly caressing the area. Something so small and ordinary and…weird. She didn't know if she liked it, and it made her uneasy.

  She wanted something real and different from the feelings she'd stolen from someone else. And she knew reality was always a little scary, so she seemed to be on the right path.

  It intensified when she handed him the rose at the festival, her heart beating a mile a second. Even worse when she kissed him for the first time, the gold and purple mingled in him as well as her. She was close enough to feel everything that went through his mind. It was always a mixed bag, just like it was with Alex. Confused. Scary. New. Comfortable.

  Maybe all that fear wasn't so bad after all.

  Purple certainly followed her through the rest of that short relationship.

  She saw how Ryan was paralyzed as she confronted his father. Or when he himself yelled at her, telling her to stop it.

  Ryan didn't believe her.

  It wasn't the anger she was so used to that washed over him as he refused her touch, almost as if he was disgusted with her. Or when he started avoiding her for the next few days, his guilt prevented him from even getting close.

  No. It wasn't anger. Or sadness.

  It was fear.

  Now Alex couldn't help but think of everything from the start. At all the other times that emotion was present.

  Maybe it wasn't as normal as she wanted to believe it was.

  "It's like this in the beginning!" Steph's voice again brought her back to the real world.

  Alex needed a few seconds to even understand what was said:

  "Huh?"

  "This weird bus adrenaline! It's always kind of sad, at least it was like that for me too" She said while practically rubbing her face against Alex's, "But let me tell you a secret: Salem will never be the best part! We have many places to visit even before there!"

  "Is that talk about 'the true treasure are the friends you made along the way?"

  Steph lightly punched her arm, even though she was laughing:

  "I'm serious, okay? The good part is that we'll never know if Salem will really be our final stop. Maybe we'll walk into a hotel in the middle of nowhere in Ohio and decide that's where we belong."

  "Is that what happened when you stopped in Haven Springs?"

  "No..." She admitted, "But that hope always wanted to get me out of there."

  Alex still appreciated how much the other tried to cheer her up, so she decided to shrug her shoulders, giving up:

  "Who knows, right? We might not even stop anywhere! Let's just keep traveling. We just need to get temporary jobs to buy a van."

  "Then we can make a short list: ‘places to visit before death'! We will travel the country!"

  "And then we'll go down to Latin America. Somewhere has to be our place."

  "Or no place will ever be our place!"

  "You make it look like a good thing." She chuckled.

  "You understand me, Alex."

  That simple sentence cut the conversation short. Alex lifted her head from her shoulder, then made eye contact with Steph. She had said the last sentence simply, as if she was joking. However, the way she was looking at Alex now, it was as if she had confessed to something much bigger, which she had been keeping inside for a long time.

  The color purple washed over Steph.

  Alex smiled.

  Maybe she wasn't so wrong about affection and love.

[cinammonelles]

for the wip title game, in a kinder world has me intrigued, so feel free to divulge some information about it :]

Good choice! In a kinder world is my current ph passion fic that I think(?) I've mentioned in passing a few times. It's an au where little Gilbert and Vincent meet Alice a short while after arriving at the Baskervilles', i.e., before Alice can get brainwashed against them. As a result of which, they all get to grow up closer and adopt each other in the process :D

It was inspired mostly by that one birthday art Mochijun made of the 3 kids together and my urge to write older sister Alice (which has been an amazing experience so far btw, 10/10 would recommend).

I'm around halfway through writing it rn but it's quite a bit longer than my usual fics and I also haven't been able to establish a functional writing-editing equilibrium yet so it'll unfortunately be a while before it's done :(

I don't wanna give away too much so here's two short excerpts from it :)

Gilbert opens his mouth to apologise but before he could let out a word, Alice's horrid little cat jumps on him and he lets out a shrill scream, flailing around and toppling over, bringing Vincent down with him. Alice quickly reaches out to disentangle Cheshire from Gilbert's expensive formal attire but ends up tripping on her hem and joining the other two on the ground. Gilbert is hyperventilating by the time Alice is able to coax Cheshire off him. There is a moment of silence as they stare at each other dumbfounded and then they all burst out laughing. They are laughing so hard Alice can't tell whether Gilbert is shaking due to the previous debacle or from laughter. They laugh and laugh till Gilbert hears a breath hitch up beside him. Vincent doesn't know where the tears come from. He's been holding them back for as long as he can remember. And now they come flooding and he's doubled over and can't control them. He could feel the horrid little cat chewing on his hair but the tears were too overwhelming for him to care about that. He feels hands wrap around him. Two and then two more. He's crying into someone's shoulder now. He hopes it's not Gilbert. His coat was new. He'd helped him pick it.

Vincent insists that it "just happened" and that he was "too busy to pay attention" and "it just grew out on its own".  Gilbert thinks it's bullshit but doesn't voice his opinions out loud. They were all coping in their own ways.  "Sit down," Alice orders one day when they walk into her room in the late afternoon. She'd taken one disbelieving look at Vincent and then marched off into the other room— while the brothers exchanged a confused glance— and returned with a brush, comb and ribbons. Vincent scrutinizes her for a few moments before deciding he has nothing to lose and obediently sits down on the ground in front of her. Alice takes off the ribbon tying up his hair and starts weaving her hand through the strands. "It looks like shit." "I brush it every day!" Vincent protests indignantly. "With a broom?" ... "Stop moving," Alice huffs for the nth time, holding the half done braid in one hand and straightening his head with the other. "But it hur- ow! That was deliberate wasn't it—" "Of course not," Alice snickers, "isn't that right Gilbert?" "Mmhmm," Gilbert replies from his spot at the window. It was nice to see them so lively after so long. "Stop grinning like an idiot, you're up next." Alice says, with her back still turned to him. "Huh? Me? But my hair isn't even that long." Gilbert replies hurriedly, all pleasant thoughts immediately forgotten. "And?" Alice gives him a sideway glance. He could see Vincent's indignant pout turn into a smirk, the traitor. "Fine." He relents.

[purplewitch156]

hello I love your works!! especially Of Your Making!! you mentioned that was your first fanfic; what were some of the struggles you experienced if you don't mind me asking? any writing advice you could give for a new writer?

I really appreciate getting your ask today because I’m having an extremely irritating weekend, but this is a good step in the right direction, so thank you!

You know what’s funny, I didn’t struggle with Of Your Making, which is weird because it’s typical to run out of steam or enthusiasm while working on a project (especially large projects) or to come across bumps in the story’s structure or plot or characters that completely derail the creative flow. But that never happened in OYM. Even when I didn’t know what the next scene was going to be or what was going to happen after the Carcerem, I figured out answers to those questions startlingly fast. And I think I know why.

OYM was my fourth full-length story. The ones previous were all original works that were geared toward young teens (I was trying to make a career at it; I’m not trying anymore). And one of the things that you’re told when you’re trying to make a career out of writing is to brand yourself. Find your audience and write to that audience. Your fans will know what to expect from you and they will (theoretically) read your future publications. I was writing stories that naturally fit in with the middle school crowd so that was who all my future stories needed to garner to. The problem was I felt stifled and stuck. I wanted to write more adult themes, but I felt that I couldn’t. Now, I could have made a new pen name and published under that. That’s totally acceptable and something that many people do, but I was also coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t having fun writing anymore. I didn’t like the pressure and expectations I was putting on myself and so when I started my first fanfic, all those problems that were attached to original writing weren’t there anymore. It was like I was able to breathe again. I felt free in a way that I had not felt in a very long time. And best of all, I was having fun. And I think it was because of this that OYM was one of the easiest stories I’ve ever written. It was the most self-healing writing experience I have ever had simply because I removed all my rules and judgments and wrote for myself.

My advice to new writers:

Number 1: Study stories. This doesn’t have to just be written stories. This can include movies or video games. Pay attention to aspects of a story that you like and aspects that you don’t like and try to figure out why you like the bits you like and why you don’t like the bits you don’t. I’m not saying you should be overly critical about all the content you consume! Just become a bit analytical. A bit curious. If you feel like something’s missing or something didn’t quite work or something pulled you out of the immersion, try to pinpoint it. Try to figure it out. The same goes for the stuff that sucked you in. Try to figure out how it sucked you in. Why it sucked you in. The more you do this, the more it becomes second nature and the more you’re able to implement the stuff you like in your writing and dodge or spot the stuff that’s not working.

Number 2: Pull from yourself. I don’t mean to write everything autobiographically, though you can do that if you want. I’m more talking about pulling from your own experiences. For example, we all know what fear feels like. We all know what happiness feels like. We know what it’s like to make a new friend and what it’s like to lose them. When we read these experiences and feelings, we connect with the character more. We empathize with them. We understand them. We’ve been there, too, and because of that the story resonates stronger. Take this comic by @sarahseeandersen:

It's funny because it’s true.

I hope I was helpful. I’ve actually been reading Invisible Ink, A Practical Guide to Building Stories that Resonate by Brian McDonald and I’m finding it to be quite fascinating. He can be a bit forceful and rule-focused, which makes sense. He’s teaching you how to do something and having a structure or strategy is super helpful for that. So if you decide to read it (and I do recommend it) take his advice (and really, anyone’s advice, mine included) with a grain of salt. Writing is meant to be explorative and creative. And fun. Most especially, fun.   

[indienby]

Fanwork: Beautiful

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 (Video Games)

Pairing: Astarion/Player Character

Summary: After the conversation with Astarion about his mirror it's time to take action.

That night, I lay awake on my bedroll for a long time, staring up at the unfamiliar stars overhead. I couldn’t get the conversation with Astarion out of my head. I’d never been vain like him, but even I wasn’t keen on the idea of being unable to see my own reflection. Rough and ready as I usually looked, it was reassuring to be able to look at my own face, whether I wanted to make sure I hadn’t missed a spot while cleaning or check if I’d gained a bruise.

I shifted, rolling onto my side and using the flickering light of the fire to find him with my eyes. He slept like the dead, stone still, the barest hint of movement in his chest rising and falling to show he wasn’t – or wasn’t totally. I didn’t know the specifics of being turned into a vampire spawn, and I was loathe to ask more – understandably, it seemed a bit of a touchy subject. I let my eyes wander from his chest up to his face, smoother in sleep even than when awake, and considered.

I’d called him beautiful when he’d asked me to but I could tell he hadn’t believed me. I hadn’t been lying though; from the tips of his pointed ears to the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the drip of his aristocratic drawl, everything about him was simply stunning. Just looking at him made my knees go weak, especially on the rare occasions he dropped his guard and let me in with the odd detail of his life or a confessed fear. I’d tried to ignore the feeling, to push it to the side as irrelevant in the face of everything else we had to contend with, but somehow it didn’t seem like such a waste of emotion anymore.

Moving as silently as possible amidst the highly trained and extremely edgy killers dotted about my camp, I pushed myself up and crept to the trunk where I’d stowed some of today’s loot. I hadn’t had an immediate use for the battered old journal I’d taken off an unfortunate gnome we’d found the bones of in our path earlier, but now I found I did. Astarion needed to know what he looked like - and I could show him.

I took up position as close as I dared, folding myself down cross-legged and praying my luck held out in allowing me to pass undetected. I waited a moment, searching for the telltale rise and fall to reassure me, then dipped my quill. Calm swept through me as I enjoyed the rare chance to observe without being observed in turn, every touch of pen to paper bringing my subject to life. Untrained as I am, by the time the first shadows of dawn started to streak the camp I had a recognisable portrait and was fairly happy with my efforts.

I stashed my equipment and snuck back to my bedroll, laying down and throwing an arm over my head in a futile attempt to catch a few moments of sleep before the sun rose fully. In no time at all, however, the unmistakable sounds of the rest of the camp stirring became too loud to ignore, and I gave up any attempt of snatching a quick forty winks. Resigned, I rolled over, groaning as I pushed myself up. To my surprise, I found Astarion watching me. His intense red gaze held mine for a few seconds before he looked away; I felt my cheeks heat and swiftly rose to ready myself for the day ahead.

A busy day of travel, fighting and yet more revelations – both good and bad – occupied my attention so thoroughly I didn’t get a chance to give the affair much thought until we made camp late that evening and I caught him looking at me again. Memories of the previous night rushed back and, after a moment’s hesitation, I took a deep breath and crossed the camp.

“Well hello, what can I do for you?”

His casual greeting almost, but not quite, covered his nerves and with a start I realised I could read him now – he was as flustered as I. I crossed my arms and tried to act casual.

“Well, I was wondering why you were watching me.”

He recoiled slightly at that, but then his eyes narrowed and he thrust his chin forward. “Oh really?” he sneered. “Because last night I could have sworn you were the one watching me.”

I froze, not sure what to say. I’d meant to share the picture with him, after all, but I’d never meant for him to know how I’d drawn it.

“Oh yes,” he continued, taking my silence as the confirmation it was. “I thought you meant to attack at first. I would have understood that – after all, who wants a vampire in their camp? It made sense for you to finally decide I was too much of a liability to keep around anymore.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued before I had a chance. “I waited for the blow to fall, wondering which method you’d choose and whether I’d have a chance to fight back. Wondering whether I even wanted to or if it would finally release me from my drudgery. But it never came.”

“I’m sorry,” I interjected, cold horror trickling down my spine. I’d never meant to scare him, let alone bring on thoughts as deep and dark as those. “I didn’t realise you were awake.”

He scoffed. “Clearly. But that still doesn’t explain what you were doing.”

After a brief pause, I dug in my pack for the journal, flipping it open to the page from last night and handing it to him. They say actions speak louder than words, and on this occasion I thought they might be right. He squinted at it for a moment, and for one horrible second I thought I might have to explain after all. Then his face changed; I could tell the exact point he realised it was a portrait of him, and I let out my breath in a huff of relief. The creases around his eyes smoothed out, his hungry gaze roaming the page for every last detail. A half smile quirked at the corner of my mouth as I watched him, lost in the image his own face. Suddenly his head jerked up, red eyes meeting mine. They were softer than I’d ever seen them, with what I suspected to be the first true smile he’d given in a while curving his lips. He seemed lost for words, and I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious again.

“Like I said. You’re beautiful.”

Notes: If you're into smut, I'll post the extremely NSFW sequel soon ;-)

You can also read this fic on AO3 here!