#this is a part of a wip? technically? i GUESS?

[tridentkickflipper123]

haii :-) which is ur favorite jashling to draw

definitely Soul, by a long shot. I'm extremely biased towards him and most of the art I draw is related to or centered towards him (but it's probably not surprising that someone with the url tridentkickflipper123 has Soul as a favorite...)

my second favorite jashling to draw is Mind... which I admittedly have tons of fun drawing always. I find that sometimes I'll struggle to draw Soul in a way I like, but with Mind I'm content with how I draw him a majority of the time

and my least favorite (overall and to draw) is Heart. though really only comparatively to the other two; I still really really like Heart and I think about him often. honestly out of the three I think his songs make me feel the most amount of emotion (which is probably fitting haha)

thank you for the fun ask :}!

[afterartist]

I LIED

It WASNT my last art post

N e ways, I created Animity 3 hours ago and if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in this room then myself

(Which is awkward cause he was created for the sole purpose of dying… brutally… ehh I’m sure he can walk it off)

N e ways

Part of a WIP

Animity is a Keyholder from my multiverse (Kindness)

Someone asked me what happens when/if the keys break, so I’m making a short comic to explain… tho it probably won’t be finished this year :/

[foodlesoodlesdoodles]

hahaa hey man listen I’d do anything to help you wouldn’t it be funny if we [ REDACTED ]

[galacticlamps]

I'm going to uno reverse card you and say: for the fic guessing game, 'light'?

lol that's fair

apparently I talk about light a lot (go figure) so have this one that happens to be in the middle of its story's 'Oh' moment:

But perhaps, somewhere along the line, Jamie had slipped, and now . . . well now, standing on the balcony of a palace on another planet, with the Doctor dipping his head nearer just to hide his eyes from the light - nearer, and not farther, which would've been just as easy - no, now he had to admit something was different. When it had changed or whether it hadn't at all and he'd simply been too fool to realize it before he couldn't say, and it didn't matter anyway - he knew it now, and that scared him.

-

And just for kicks, under the cut I'm gonna put a longer excerpt from a totally different fic that came up while I was ctrl+f-ing 'light' in my wips - mainly because it happens to be part of a scene from a longish 'the Doctor & Jamie reunite with Zoe in 6b' story which is nowhere near completion, but feels relevant given the boxset Big Finish released last week (not that I've gotten a chance to listen to it yet, but still).

Zoe sat across from Jamie, her elbows on the table, her chin resting atop her hands - but she wasn't relaxed. She stared at him intently, and actually narrowed her eyes as he watched.

"What?" he asked, already defensive, and following through on an old self-conscious instinct, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With no mirror in sight, he looked to the Doctor to check if he'd somehow gotten something on his face already, but he looked just as baffled. Zoe hadn't broken her concentration yet.

"I'm trying to figure out if I'm older than you," she announced, still deep in thought.

"Ah--" the Doctor began, grinning wickedly, but whether he was going to answer her or merely tease they never found out, because Jamie shot an arm out lightning quick, as if to hold him back.

"No' so fast, you. Let the girl work it out."

He finished chewing and settled himself squarely in front of her for inspection. She continued to stare. "Y'know, I'm surprised you're having such trouble telling," he taunted. "After all, how old are you now?"

She opened her mouth at first to protest that she was under no obligation to announce her own age while he continued to keep his secret, but she still thought she might figure it out - and if she couldn't, she at least had the Doctor to rely on to make Jamie tell the truth.

So she shrugged. "I'm 41. But everyone here thinks I'm 39. I was born 39 years ago, of course, but counting chronologically from the time I left the Wheel with you in the Tardis, I aged two years before the Time Lords returned me to my own time. That was twenty-one years ago, now," she added, unable to judge if the faint waver of wistfulness in her voice was truly audible, or if it was just her own imagination. Thankfully, neither of them pressed her on it.

"Well, y'see, Zoe," Jamie began slowly, still chewing his last mouthful after she finished her explanation and sat waiting calmly for his reply. The Doctor leaned forward too, seemingly intrigued, though it must only have been to see what answer Jamie would try. "I was born in 1724," he paused and washed down his food with a swig from his glass, and for a moment Zoe had the grace to assume he was just working through his calculations, as she had done. "So I'm pretty sure I'm older than you," he finished, setting the glass back down on the table triumphantly.

All at once she felt a young girl again, a devilish light in her eyes. She wanted to jump across the table and tackle him - but that wasn't what Madam Presidents did. "Why, you--"

"They don't traditionally swear at their guests either, Ms. Heriot."

She turned on the Doctor, shocked. "You read my mind," she began, more impressed than accusatory, but he did at least have the decency to look sheepish.

He coughed politely. "Only to, ah, verify your math. And I'm sure you could feel my presence there, if you think about it."

"I could but I didn't know that's what it was. You've gotten so much better at it."

"Had to," he said simply, and shrugged, his eyes downcast.

Well, there was more to that, clearly, she thought, filing his deliberately nonchalant expression away for closer inspection later - but for now she was not about to be deterred. She snapped her eyes and her attention both back to Jamie.

"Still, we both know the Doctor obviously continues to value honesty and accuracy, so surely he'll tell me how old you are, even if you won't."

"Not if I ask him not to - right, Doctor?"

"Well . . . " he began, noncommittally drawing the word out so long that Zoe actually had time to wonder what his plan was for once he ran out of vowel. Jamie looked so genuinely horrified it was downright comical, and she had to force herself not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"We're married, Doctor," he reminded him, indignant.

"Oh, but it's Zoe," he complained, sounding every bit the petulant child she remembered he could be, all those years ago. "And as far as I can remember, none of the ceremonies we ever partook in had anything in the vows about obeying. Although I might be wrong . . ." he added under his breath, scratching his head.

"Charming," Jamie grumbled.

"Well, when we've had as many weddings as we have it can be quite a lot to keep straight in your head. You know, I sometimes wonder if we might qualify for some kind of an all-time record. If we hadn't the need to be covert about so many of them, of course."

"Stop that!" she snapped, and the Doctor turned back to her, the picture of confused innocence.

"Stop what?"

"You're trying to help him without helping him, just by distracting me. Naturally, I want to hear everything about all these weddings of yours, and I will see to it that you'll be having another one while you're here, like it or not--"

"Yes ma'am," Jamie quipped, mock-serious.

"--But first, I am going to find out how old you are, James Robert McCrimmon, and if you force me to use your husband to do it, then that decision is on you."

Jamie mopped his face with his napkin and came out of it smiling. He stretched and dropped an arm around the Doctor's shoulders, perfectly relaxed. Already, Zoe felt her heart sink, but she was careful to keep her composure.

"I'm only pullin' your leg. I'm 44."

"What, really? And you expect me to just believe that?" She raised an eyebrow in challenge but then glanced at the Doctor to confirm, and when he nodded she allowed her facade to crumble, rolling her eyes. Of course she had known when she'd first laid eyes on them that they'd be cutting it close, but Jamie still had quite a bit of that boyishness about him that had made it frustrating enough being his junior the first time around, and she really thought she might genuinely have enjoyed being just a hair older than him, for a change. After all, if you had to be ripped apart from your family and sent to separate timezones to live out your lives forever wishing for an improbable reunion, it might as well be good for something. But Jamie was far too smug looking now to be pretending, and Zoe knew it. "Oh, some people have all the luck," she groaned, dropping her arms and collapsing back dejectedly against her seat.

"Aye," Jamie said, leaning in over the table to follow her, "and some people live 22 years on Earth before they meet a time traveler, then spend 5 years with him before his people erase their memory and send them home to live another 5 before he's allowed to come pick them up again, and then force the pair of 'em to've spent 12 years so far working for them. Some people, eh?" he finished hotly, swiping his glass off the table again and raising it to his mouth in one fluid motion to take a long drink. But even so, his face was not so totally obscured from view that Zoe couldn't make out the amused curl at the corner of his lips, and when she caught his gaze again the glimmer in his eye was all fondness, just as it was with Doctor's and, she knew, her own.

Yes, no matter the circumstances, it was certainly good to see them again.

[jessisnotnormal]

Chapter 1: Favour

Masterlist

“You sure you’ve got everything?” Jada asked, hurrying round the living room to pick up some last-minute items. “Make sure you give her a bottle with her tea. They’re in the fridge at the back, remember to warm it up first, won’t you?”

            “I’m not a complete idiot, you know,” Jim responded with a laugh. “I do have a vague idea what I’m doing. I help my sister with her baby all the time.”

            “You’ll phone me if anything happens, won’t you?”

            He rolled his eyes teasingly. “Yes, Jada. Now if you don’t hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”

            “All right, all right,” she sighed, crouching down to where Emily was playing on the floor. She scooped her daughter up into her arms, planting a kiss in her soft curls. “See you tomorrow, baby. I’ll miss you.”

            Emily gave a little squeal, flashing her a cheeky grin as Jada put her back onto the floor and turned to address Jim again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Phone me if you need anything.”

            “Stop worrying!” Jim laughed, stepping around Emily to push Jada towards the door. “You’re supposed to have fun. Everything here is under control.”

            “See you tomorrow, Izzy!” Jada called up the stairs as they reached the hallway, hoping her other housemate could hear her.

            Her fears proved unfounded, however, when Izzy's face appeared out of her bedroom doorway. “Have fun!” she called back, waving. “I expect some exciting stories when you return!”

            Jada was unsure what kind of exciting adventures Izzy expected her to have at Ubi’s New Year’s party, but she nodded anyway, turning and heading out into the cold December evening. The last December evening, she realised with a nostalgic twinge as she climbed into her car. The last evening of 2015.

            She reversed out of the driveway, pausing only to hit the start button on her Satnav before she set off. It had been five months since she’d last seen Ubi, when he’d moved out of his student accommodation in the summer and got himself a new place with a friend. The drive would take her forty-five minutes, her Satnav informed her, so she had planned to stay overnight and come home the next morning. However, it would be the longest time she’d spent away from Emily since bringing her home from the hospital eight months ago, and Jada only hoped she could last the night.

            The house was not what Jada had been expecting for a third-year university student with no job. It looked as though it had been built in the Victorian era, with great bay windows and a small wooden porch, and was nestled on the edge of a country park. Despite having donned her best outfit—a red bodycon dress complete with heels she’d not seen for so long she’d had to clear the dust off them—she couldn’t help but feel massively underdressed for such an elegant setting.

            She was soon reassured, however, by the sight of Ubi, who opened the front door wearing a fairly smart-casual shirt and skinny jeans as she was locking her car.

            “Jesus Christ, Ubi,” she began as she made her way onto the porch. “Who’d you have to kill to end up in a place like this?”

            Ubi grinned, taking her coat as she stepped inside. “Nothing to do with me. Morgo’s the one who deals with all the shady stuff. I just stand to the side and look innocent.”

            “Innocent? You?” Jada laughed. “You’re not that good an actor.”

            His smile widened. “Maybe that’s just what I want you to think.” He gestured for her to follow him into the living room, which was full of incredible antique-looking furniture to match the house’s grand exterior.

            “Fucking hell, Ubi, is your friend loaded?” she gaped, but he only chuckled. “What the hell did you have to do for him to let you stay here?”

            “Oh, you know, just the usual. Gotta help him reap the souls of the chosen, etcetera,” Ubi joked, causing Jada to smack him lightly on the arm. “You’re actually here early for once. Morgo’s gone out to get some extra drinks, so guess who gets to help me set up?”

            “Aren’t I lucky?” she replied sarcastically.

            Before long, other people had started to arrive, some of whom Jada recognised from her brief time at university, though most of them she had never seen before. The official start to the party was signalled by the music beginning to play, and soon drinks were being handed round as darkness began to fall.

            It was around midnight when Jada stumbled into the kitchen, drink in hand, to find Ubi leaning against the counter and discussing something in a hushed voice with another man. The two of them looked up as she entered.

            “Jada, come over here,” Ubi called, gesturing to her. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

            Jada did as she was told. “All right, but you better not be trying to set me up with anybody. I swear, I’ve had enough of that from Izzy.”

            Ubi laughed, shaking his head, while the stranger gave a small smile of amusement.

            “No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Ubi assured her. “I just wanted to introduce you to Morgo. Morgo, this is Jada Thorburn.”

            He gestured between them, and the man named Morgo offered his hand.

            “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Ubi has told me so much about you already.”

            Jada snorted. “Nothing bad, I hope?”

            Morgo had an unusual air about him. He regarded her with an unreadable expression, though she couldn’t help but feel slightly unsettled as his eyes appeared to almost look through her. They were partly obscured by his unruly hair, which fell in brown curls across them so that she was only able to see them when he wished her to. He seemed to belong perfectly in the surroundings of such an old and obscure house, but looked positively out of place amongst the people within the current setting. Even his clothes looked wrong; his too-large shirt and rolled up jeans looked as though they must have been borrowed off somebody else.

            “You were in his drama class, yes? A budding actress?”

            Jada nodded. “Had to drop out last year, though.”

            “Oh really? May I ask why?”

            “Had a baby,” she replied, shrugging. “She was premature, so it just seemed easier to quit and focus on her at the time.”

            “A shame,” Morgo shook his head. “I imagine her father is looking after her now?”

            “Nah, my mate is. We live together, so he helps me out when I need it.”

            “Ah, I see.” Morgo nodded thoughtfully, and Jada began to wonder just how much information he was gleaning from her.

            From the living room, one of the guests could be heard shouting above the music. “Ten minutes ‘til midnight!”

            “I’m going back in there,” Ubi announced, swigging the last of his drink before picking up another. “Anybody coming?”

            “Nah,” Jada responded, while Morgo just shook his head. “I’ll be in in a bit though.”

            “All right, see you later, then,” Ubi bid them farewell, before heading back into the party.

            Morgo took a sip of his drink, wrinkling his nose at the taste. “I have a favour to ask of you,” he said after regaining his composure.

            Jada frowned. “What kind of favour?”

            “I need you to trust me.”

            Her frowned deepened, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “No offense, but that seems kind of a shifty thing to say.”

            He chuckled, almost taking another sip from his can before he pulled it away from his lips hastily. “You’re staying here until tomorrow, correct?”

            Jada was starting to wonder if that was such a good idea. “…Yeah?”

            “Good, I will be able to explain more then.” He gave her a broad smile. “For now you should just enjoy the party, I suppose.”

            Now it was Jada’s turn to drink, though she continued to frown at him over the top of the glass. “You’re a bit odd, you, aren’t you?”

            Again, Morgo chuckled. “I imagine so. Ubi seems to believe so, at any rate.”

            “You sure you can’t tell me whatever this ‘favour’ is now?”

            He sighed, waving his hand vaguely. “It would take too long, too many people around.”

            She nodded in neither agreement or approval, screwing her mouth up. “Right. Well, I’m gonna go back in there now. See you some other time.”

            “Of course,” Morgo nodded, though there was a small smile playing on his lips. “Some other time.”

            She made her way back into the living room, re-joining Ubi as the image of Big Ben on the laptop screen began to count down. Why neither Ubi nor Morgo had invested in a TV for the place she couldn’t understand, but that thought was soon pushed aside as the clock began to chime. Suddenly, the sky exploded in a burst of colour, the lights on the London Eye mimicking the fireworks in their own colourful sequence as 2016 burst onto the screen. Jada wished that one day she could see the show in person, perhaps when Emily was bigger and could appreciate it properly.

            She’d had to watch last year’s countdown from her hospital room, keeping her headphones turned low so that it wouldn’t startle Emily. They’d been able to hear it even without the headphones, though, through the window, and Jada could still remember the flashes of colour dancing across the incubator where her one-day-old daughter lay. She’d been so sensitive to loud noises back then; she’d opened her little mouth to croak a protest, though there’d been no cry. She was too little to cry, the nurses had said.

            Jada found herself crying now, watching the fireworks flash onscreen and reflecting on just how much her life had changed in the past year. When Ubi spotted her across the small crowd huddled round his laptop, his face grew concerned, at first. But after she’d explained her very legitimate reasons to him, he’d only shook his head with a smile and decided it was probably time she went to bed.

            The rest of the guests were just beginning to disband as she settled into the spare room, all thoughts of the party already leaving her as she fell into unconsciousness.

            When morning came, complete with a chorus of birdsong and sunlight filtering through the curtains and falling across her face, Jada wished it would piss off. She squinted at the traitorous gap in the fabric, before hauling the covers over her head with a groan. It had been so long since she last got the chance to go out, she’d almost forgotten hangovers existed.

            Eventually, she’d managed to pluck up the courage to face the infernal sun, changing into her spare clothes before heading downstairs to see what the breakfast situation looked like in The Manor.

            She wouldn’t have been surprised to find a professional cook slaving away in the kitchen, but instead she was greeted by Ubi’s ever-cheerful grin as he scrambled some eggs, while Morgo seemed thoroughly invested in the newspaper he held before him.

            “Morning,” Ubi greeted her, prompting Morgo to look up and give her a nod. “How d’you like your eggs?”

            She returned Morgo’s nod with a small smile, before replying. “Uh, scrambled, I guess.”

            “You were right,” Ubi grinned, turning to Morgo and depositing the eggs onto his plate.

            Morgo simply raised his eyebrows at his housemate, before returning his gaze to the paper. “Of course.”

            Jada stretched, sitting opposite Morgo at their small wooden table and rubbing her forehead.

            “Ubi, will you get the remedy I prepared from the cupboard above the sink, please?” Morgo requested, still not looking up.

            Ubi did as he was asked, handing a small black vial to his friend, who in turn held it out for Jada.

            “Take that. It’ll stop the pounding in your head.”

            Jada thanked him, taking the vial and popping the cork out of it. Immediately she was hit with the smell, which she could only guess was the scent of some kind of offal. “Ugh, what is it?”

            “Just a few herbs, really. I’d say it won’t taste as bad as it smells, but…” She thought he smirked, “Probably best to down it in one.”

            She glanced to Ubi, who gave her a reassuring smile. After sighing in resignation, she tilted her head back, trying not to think about the horrific sludge that was passing over her tongue. She spluttered when she finished, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

            “I hope those eggs are nearly done,” she croaked.

            She’d earnt a smile from Morgo, while Ubi chuckled, turning back to his pan. “Just a minute.”

            Morgo’s gaze remained on her, and after a moment he folded his paper up and set it down, intertwining his hands over it. “What time do you expect to be back home, then?”

            “I told Jim I’d be back as soon as I could,” she replied. “Didn’t want to be away too long.”

            “Of course. And are you planning to drive yourself?”

            She nodded. “’Soon as I can.”

            Morgo turned to glance at Ubi, who seemed to be watching them out of the corner of his eye. “Well I’m glad you gave no solid timeframe. That will make things much easier for us, I imagine.”

            Jada frowned, her headache worsening. “You what?”

            Morgo was back to leaning on the table again, his gaze becoming intense. “You’re adopted.”

            Jada snorted at the absurdity of the comment. “You know, I’m really glad you felt the need to tell me that. I’d have had no idea otherwise,” she retorted sarcastically. She caught Ubi’s smirk, though Morgo seemed unamused, so she added, “D’you think I don’t know that?”

            “Did you never wonder who your parents were?”

            “No.”

            The two seemed surprised at her answer.

            “Why not?” Morgo asked.

            She shrugged. “They didn’t want me; why should I waste a single thought on them? Life doesn’t really work like in the films, you know.”

            Morgo’s expression softened. “Your mother did want you. She cared about you very much.”

            She felt her eyebrows raise in challenge. “And you would know?”

            His eyes dropped, his fingernail beginning to scratch at the paper underneath his hands. “I didn’t know her very well. Not at all, really. I only met her once, in passing. The day I saved your life.”

            Jada scoffed again. “You what?”

            Morgo’s eyes returned to her face, his words suddenly coming very fast. “Your mother was killed in a fire. She was staying in an inn in the capital, and you were with her. We were trying to keep an eye on things, to make sure everything was all right. When I saw the blaze I knew I had to go in, that I had to do something. It was too late for your mother, and I’m sorry for that, but then I found you. She’d doused your crib in water, it seemed, which gave me just enough time to get you out. Naturally, I couldn’t keep you here with us, though Ubi tried to argue with me. So we found a nice orphanage for you-”

            “Orphanage?” she interrupted. “What is this, the Victorian era? It’s called an adoption centre.”

            “My apologies-”

            “And what am I, anyway? Fucking Harry Potter? My parents were killed, but you managed to save me in the nick of time? Yeah right, and the next one.”

            Wearing a quizzical expression, Morgo turned to Ubi, who shrugged. “She doesn’t believe you, basically. I told you it would have been easier to keep her with us.”

            “I can’t believe you’re buying into this shit, too,” Jada scowled. “Is this some sort of stupid joke?”

            “No, no,” Morgo said. “I promise you I’m completely serious. I saved your life, gave you to the authorities in this world to be properly adopted, and then Ubi’s been keeping an eye on you recently, until now.”

            “'In this world'?” she repeated. "What are you actually fucking talking about?"

            Morgo sighed in exasperation, rubbing his brows. “You were born in Albion, which is in a separate world to this one. Now, if you’d just co-operate, we’d get through this much faster and then you can go on your merry way.”

            Jada crossed her arms, still scowling, but said nothing.

            “Very good. Now, since I saved your life, you could say you owe me a favour.” Jada wasn't sure she agreed, but Morgo was looking at her expectantly, seemingly waiting for her retort. When none came, he sighed again. “What do you know of the Arthurian legends?”

            A moment passed, before he gave a sound of frustration. “You can talk now.”

            “I did a few projects on them in high school,” she replied with a bitter shrug. “But I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

            “Well you wouldn’t, would you?” Morgo retorted.

            Ubi snickered, causing the two of them to look back over towards him, still scrambling some more eggs.

            Morgo turned back to her first. “How did they end, the legends?”

            Jada sighed. “Arthur’s killed by Mordred, at the Battle of Camlann.”

            “Not killed, mortally wounded,” Morgo corrected.

            “Fine. Arthur is mortally wounded by Mordred at the Battle of Camlann. Because the distinction is so important.”

            “It is,” Morgo countered. “‘Mortally wounded’ implies that Arthur was not yet dead when he was taken to Avalon.”

            “So?”

            “So, I need you to make sure he doesn’t die.”

            What little patience of Jada’s remained now vanished. “And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

            “You need to find a way to heal him. Luckily for you, I know just the right way. But you’ll have to use magic, of course.”

            “Magic? You realise that all of this makes absolutely no sense, right?” She turned to Ubi for help. “Is he on something?”

            “Nope,” Ubi replied. “Magic is real. You might not have realised, but you come from a long line of magic users, dating back for more than four hundred years.”

            Jada changed her focus. “Are you on something?”

            He grinned. “Nope. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed anything yet.”

            “She’d have had no need to,” Morgo interjected, calling Jada’s attention back to him. “But now you do. I’m sending you to study under Merlin. You’ll learn the basics of magic there, but after that you’ll have to move on to a more difficult school of study.”

            Jada laughed. “Oh yeah? And will I be going to Atlantis for dinner, as well?”

            Morgo seemed unamused, so she changed her tone as she rose from the table. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re on about, but I am not going to Camelot to learn how to use magic to save a fictional king, all right? Sorry to disappoint, but I’m busy.”

            She turned on her heel, ready to head out the door, pick up her keys, and never return to this house again. Behind her she heard Morgo rise, his chair scraping against the tiles.

            “Morgo, we can’t make her,” Ubi said. “If she doesn’t want to, there’s nothing we can do.”

            She was in the hallway now, about to retrieve her coat from the rack that Ubi had hung it on as the kitchen door behind her swung open again. She was grateful she’d thought to move her bag with the rest of her belongings by the door already. A smooth escape would have been so much more difficult otherwise.

            She bent to pick it up, purposely paying no heed to the figure behind her as she did so, until he said something that she did not expect.

            “Swefe nu.”

            Before Jada could turn to even frown at him, she felt her legs buckle beneath her as the floor rushed to meet her. The last thing she heard before unconsciousness took her was Ubi’s voice of indignation:

            “Morgo!”

Chapter 2 ->

[crystalflygeo]

How to Warm Up your Dragon ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: ngl this is MOSTLY VERY FLUFFY but it has a veeeery spicy part ehehehehe, praise kink, biting, bit of rough sex, creampie, dirty talk. Reader is technically Fontainian but you can ignore that tbh

notes: Y'ALL THIS HAS BEEN ON MY WIPS SINCE BEFORE FONTAINE IT'S BEEN SOSOSOSOSO LONG I started writing at the start of winter here, now it's summer lmao but hey at least it's winter in the northern hemisphere so... enjoy the snow and dragon man!! Also also... no one guessed what the gift was but Rin was the closest!

Your mother always used to say the way to a man's heart was with food.

you wonder if that applied to archons... er, dragons? adepti?

In any case...

Zhongli has always been a... particular eater. A very refined palate. It's not that he was hard to please, to tell the truth. But he always seemed to have an extra comment, something to add or change to a dish to make it ‘a little more special’.

But you'd quickly find out he had a soft spot for broths and soups, bamboo shoot soup being his particular favorite. Even when it took a lot of hard work and time to prepare, the way he did so was worth it, simply spectacular.

That's why you could almost cry with joy when he happily praised one of your favorite dishes. A fantastic soup d'oignon passed down on your family. Nothing to add, no extras or corrections, he'd enjoy it to its fullest talking about the creamy texture and unique flavor of the cheese so different from those found in Liyue.

So, today you decided to prepare it. Nothing better to warm up on this chilly season, and besides you'd just received a shipment of ingredients from your family.

The rhythm of a knife on a cutting board fills the air, along with a delicious smell. You finish slicing the onions into thin strips and add them to the pot at the stove, humming lightly while stirring. You really hope nothing would keep your dear Zhongli too busy today, so he could be just in time to enjoy this while still fresh and warm.

You turn off the other burner as the beef stock had already warmed up, and start washing some dishes while keeping an eye on the food. It is… rather amusing just how domestic this all feels. Not too long ago you were adventuring over Teyvat, facing off all sorts of crazy dangers, exploring, and never stopping in one place and now… now this feels like home.

And that is without taking into account who your fiancé even is. The former Geo Archon. You shake your head with a light chuckle. It’s still so weird to think of such an imposing figure from legends to be so… him.

You dry your hands and start to pour the broth on the now-golden onions, stirring.

Zhongli is sweet, caring, attentive, wise, with just the right words at the right time. Admittedly a bit airheaded at times, funny when he wants to be. A refined gentleman through and through unlike anyone you’d ever met.

And he loves you.

And you’re engaged.

Warmth rises up to your cheeks along with a small smile as you lower the heat and start grating the cheese.

You heard sounds at the front door and then steps. Oh, early today. Zhongli walks up to you with a smile, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek, his hands resting at your waist as he leans in from over your shoulder. “Welcome home, Li.”

“Thank you” He replies in that deep suave voice. “That smells good my love, would you like some help finishing?”

You shake your head a little. “Please, there’s no need, you just got home. Go take a bath and unwind a little, I’ll finish here and we’ll eat.”

Zhongli looks as if he’s about to say something but simply nods. “Hmm, alright then.” He pulls you a little closer in his embrace, as if he’d missed your contact, your scent. Zhongli inhales deeply, tension seeping off of his body and he gives a soft kiss at your shoulder before almost regretfully pulling away. You chuckle a little and stir the pan.

How domestic and loving indeed.

…

Later when the food is ready and served, he returns to the small kitchen dressed in much more casual and comfier robes. Your eyes linger a little on the small expanse of exposed skin at his neck and chest and then stop at the way his long hair is tied up in a bun.

“Not washing your hair today?” You ask casually, taking your seat.

 “I… Perhaps I have gotten rather used you doing it. I simply didn’t feel like it.”

You can’t help the short laugh that escapes you, even as you try to cover it a little. “Is this your way of saying you wanted me to bathe with you?”

His golden eyes twinkle. “I would certainly enjoy indulging in that more often.”

Your cheeks flush and you avert your eyes.

He takes a spoonful of soup and hums, closing his eyes to appreciate the flavors. “The finest ingredients cooked with true expertise. Simply divine, my love, thank you.”

“Flatterer.” You say, a little embarrassed but he can see right thought it, your little grin, the little shift in your posture.

“I am simply stating the truth.” He replies and continues eating. You can see his shoulders relax and the small satisfied smile at the warm food, it makes you a little giddy as you start eating as well.

---------------------

bundling up during winter was obvious, right?

Putting on layers and layers of clothes. And true, perhaps Liyue didn't get as cold as other nations such as Fontaine, Mondstadt or of course Snezhnaya, but maybe it was exactly for that reason the temperature drop seemed to affect everyone all the more. Besides, the people would take any excuse to show off their fancy coats, scarves and other cold-climate outfits.

Zhongli naturally wore many layers, and he did mention once or twice he wasn't as affected by the cold. Yet, his business partner had gifted him a thick snezhnayan cloak.

The thing was entirely ridiculous, too bulky with a fluffy overtop, the colors dark and cool not matching Zhongli at all.

And yet he'd used it! (Only twice... but still)

You were not jealous, not at all.

You just wanted to... give him something he'd also enjoy and wear around, yes. Something personal, something he’d like and look at and remember you.

But what?

Ugh, it’s not like you were really well versed in sewing. Back at home you’d even had some machinery for that, but here in Liyue… you wracked your brain thinking what could you give him. He had quite a few elegant outfits, fitting him perfectly and enhancing all his attributes, all personally tailored by one of his late Yaksha so they held immense sentimental value as well… how could you compete with that?!

Right, right, it was not a competition. You sigh. Zhongli will probably be happy with anything you give him, but still…

An idea pops into your head and you can’t help but chuckle. Oh, it’s so silly… but maybe…

Simple enough, personal, something he’d use during the cold season only around you. Could work, you decided as you pick up your things to go visit the textile shop.

If nothing else, it could at least get a good chuckle out of Zhongli, right?

And so, for a few days you work on your little project. Turns out sewing was indeed a little harder than expected but you were trying your best. The kind lady who’d sold you some excellent wool had also given you some tips and they proved to be most useful indeed!

Regrettably you didn’t exactly have the right measurements so you more or less eyeballed them. Eh. It’ll be fine…

Zhongli almost came close to finding out too, though you were inconspicuous enough. You’re sure he suspects something.

“It will all be worth it, it will all be worth it…” You mumble to yourself with a frown as you finish trimming one of the stitches. Your fingers hurt.

…

“Li! I have something for you!” You exclaim happily, hands behind your back holding the wrapped-up item you had worked so hard on. An excited glow on your smile and bright eyes.

“Oh? Am I going to finally see what you’ve been guarding to secrecy this past week?” He replies coolly with a knowing smile, amusement dancing on his tone as he places his teacup down.

Nothing escapes him.

“Yes” You present him the gift, your hands then fidget nervously, having nothing else to do now. “I hope you like it! It’s… my first time doing something like this… i-it may not be that good, it’s kind of silly but-”

“Darling please do not fret, I would love anything you give me.”

Your shoulders relax.

Zhongli unwraps the paper and finds a rich dark brown fabric staring back at him, he picks the item and opens it, trying to gauge its shape, thick wool, a little rough around the edges but you did mention it was your first try and he is honored enough you’d make such effort for him.

However…

What is it exactly?

He turns the item around trying not to show too much confusion on his face as to insult you or make you feel bad, it looks like… a severely oversized legwarmer?

“It’s…” You start, feeling a little shy and silly once more. “…for your tail.”

Recognition shines in his eyes and he blinks at the item. 

“You- I know you like to let loose a little around the house and let your illuminated beast features show, I love you tail too but I know… the scales get cold easily a-and usually we just bundle up with a blanket but I thought-”

“I love it.”

You stop running your mouth as soon as he utters those words, Zhongli looks at you with a gentle calm and your heart could melt at the sincerity in his expression. “No one had ever made something like this for me.”

He stands and unfurls the item, then, in a flash of gold his dragon tail manifests, majestic as ever and swaying lazily, the tuft of fur at the end flickering with each move. He maneuvers a little to slip the ‘tailwarmer’ on and though it sags a little, much to your relief it at least fits nicely. There is a yellow diamond pattern near the base that you’d started working on but deemed too difficult for a first try. It was a cute little detail though, maybe next time.

“Warm and cozy.” He chuckles and you beam at him, before letting out a squeak as said dragon tail curls around you, pressing your forward against his chest.

“Thank you, my love.” He cups your face and kisses your forehead.

---------------------

The air is hot and heavy as soft moans and grunts fill the room.

Well, this was certainly a way to warm up… and get some good cardio.

You pant and squirm on the plush surface of a heavenly mattress as the familiar weight of the ex-archon descends upon you. His arms going from a golden orange hue to a deep charcoal, lines of gold thrumming across his skin, glowing softly in periodic pulses up strong muscular arms. Golden horns rise from soft brown hair curled at the tips, two on each side like a crown, while a powerful scaly tail wraps around your calf holding your leg up, spread.

This is Rex Lapis. Morax. Any other number of names he had. This is the Geo Archon.

“Zhongliii!” You whine, his hands caressing your body, claws teasing along your skin, pinching a nipple, fangs grazing your collarbone and a long serpentine tongue licking a hot stripe across your neck.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, already rock hard and burning like a brand, your hips canting for more. For him to finally fill you, to feel his thick overwhelming girth stretch you, breed you… you want to be filled so full it overflows, so that it dribbles down your thighs and ass in thick, slick rivulets of his love.

“Patience my love.”

You whimper and jerk at that, about to cry out for him again when he rolls his hips and sinks in your warm hole. Your breath catches in your throat as your head throws back on the soft feather pillows.

He pushes into you inch by inch, carving a space for himself with a soft rumbling groan. His lips seek yours as his hands slide to your hips and press hard enough to bruise. His kiss devouring, all-consuming with need as he bottoms inside you, hips pressed flush.

Gods you feel so full, stretched and filled every inch and then some, and he doesn’t allow you a moment to pause and adjust either. A beast of a man in the best of ways, he withdraws halfway, only to slam forward in a fluid firm thrust.

“Mng-! Ah!”

“Mine. All mine. S-so warm and thigh- nghh…”

His pace starts slow, his voice alone enough to drive you crazy with how deep, carnal, animalistic it is against your neck. Sharp canines teasing the elegant column of your throat as he moves.

“Oh! so good… Li… f-faster… faster ple-ahhn!” Your voice pitches high as you babble, pleasure coiling on your gut.    

“As- you desire…” Strained words still sounding like the very embodiment of sex, his voice so sinfully deep, so erotic it washes over you like liquid silk, like molten gold, only heightening the sensations of his quickening pace. In and out, in and out, skin slapping on skin. “You’re… you’re so perfect for me-”

You take him so well, your legs spread wide, your back arched, your insides molded to his length, enveloping him in the most mind-blowing of heats. The bed creaking as Zhongli delivers another powerful thrust, hitting a sweet spot deep within you and making you elicit a sharp keening sob of a moan. Your hands scrambling from the sheets to seek purchase at his back, curled up under his arms to scratch viciously trying to hold onto something, anything as he drives into you thrust after thrust after thrust-    

“I’m- I’m gon-ahnn! Z-Zhongli… ooohh!”

Fuck you are close. So, so close…

He nips at the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. “Almost there… little one.” He huffs between strained grunts and you whimper at the pet name. Golden claws sink on the bedsheets, gripping thigh for leverage as he moves faster, frantic, hips like pistons he fucks into you like a wild animal, the bed rocking, shaking with each thrust. “C-close…”

You mewl and moan, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore but just feel the hot burning pleasure, his warm puffs of breath on your skin, your sweating bodies dampening the sheets and you desperately want to feel his warm seed inside you, filled to the brim with his creamy cum.

“Pleasepleaseplease i-in! In-s-ahh!” You come with a sharp cry, vision blurring, muscles clenching, your insides squeezing around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

It was enough, the tipping point for the dragon, his thrusts shallowing out until he ruts as deep as he can and shoots his load inside you with a guttural groan. Thick spurts pumping inside you before it pools out around his own cock, leaking from your body until there’s nothing left to give.  

Everything is hot… so hot… the air heavy and musky with the scent of sex…

…

Zhongli slumps softly atop your body after what feels like ana eternity, his cock still comfortably nestled within your slick walls, cushioned by fluttering muscles. You lay beneath him, sweaty and shivering, breathless, chest raising and falling rapidly in small gasps as you struggle to catch your breath but oh, how you took his away…

 Beautiful, truly… your half-lidded eyes glazed over, barely able to open admits your exhaustion, but still able to whimper soft little moans as he trails fluttering reverent kisses along your neck and collarbone. Soft, chaste, loving and tender touches.

“Ahhn… mmm…” He chuckles softly at the endearing sounds you make as he eases out of you, the subtle friction enough to sent fire to your nerves, followed by a strange emptiness that mellows down to buzzing contentment.

He lies to the side and pulls you close towards his chest, his tail finally letting your now sore leg rest, uncoiling from it to curl around you both, you settle there with a sigh, eyes sliding shut. “So good for me.” Zhongli gently brushes some hair away from your face and places a kiss at the crown of your head, resting his chin there. “Rest now, dear.”

“Mn.”

---------------------

You smile as Zhongli places the two steaming teacups on the table before scooting over and welcoming him with the blanket surrounding you. He settles on the couch with you cuddling close and passing the book on your hands to him. Your fingers brush and he sets the book on his lap before taking your hands on his, cradling them close to his face before blowing a warm breath on them. You blush and let out a little airy laugh.

“What is this? Dragon breath to keep me warm?”

He hums against your skin, piercing golden eyes staring up at you. “No, just my love for you.” He kisses your knuckles and fingers.

“You…” You mumble, averting your gaze.

He chuckles and kisses your wrist then before leaning in close and kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anywhere he can reach.

“Ngah, wait you affectionate big lizard!” You squirm and he laughs fully now.

“Just seeking my adorable fiancée’s warmth” He nuzzles onto your neck, kissing there too and making you yelp. “Gorgeous.”

“A-Am not!”

“So precious when you get all shy and flustered.” He gets your jaw this time when you move, so close to your lips.

“Stop! You menace…” You pout and this time you cup his face, staring for a moment at his handsome features, your thumb brushing close to one of the red markings under his eyes.

This man. This dragon. This god.

Oh, how you love him. He warms up your heart.

“Here, I’ll warm you up proper…” You whisper softly, pulling him close and tilting your head to slot your lips together.

Just as you warm up his.

[yandere-wishes]

DC series I want to write.

DC makes me so feral for so many characters lol. Will I get to all these in this lifetime? Probably not but hey a girl can dream!!

Fairy Tale AU: 2 parts out so far.

Villian Addict: Probs the most self-indulgent thing(s) I've ever written. It's literally about the reader being their henchwoman/Harley Quinn equivalent. And how they slowly start to fall dangerously in love with her.

Hero's Fangirl: I NEED to get Tim's part out, it's been gnawing at my brain like crazy!! Dick's part is literally just cute vibes there is no plot. Bruce's part is just pure angst and I'm frothing at the mouth to write it!!

DC comic HC: Pt1 out, Pt 2 & 3 soon to come.

Yandere! Batboys x Villian! Reader: just Batman x Catwoman in 5 different fonts. I've been seriously so enamored with the dynamic between Bruce and Selina (especially from the animated series) that I really want to explore the other batboys taking after their father and falling for a villain/anti-hero reader. I guess technically I did that with Yandere! Jason x reader

Especially a Yandere!Damian Wayne x Catgirl! Reader. It'd be so delicious to write an incarnation of Catwoman and Batman, exploring a macabre romance that bleeds from generation to generation. Some never-ending loop of doomed romance destined to happen.

Idk how well it relates but this story has been scratching my brain deliciously for the last couple of days. Hear me out Batsis! Reader x Harvey Dent. The twist is that she's so obsessed with her dad's (ex?) best friend but after they spend some time together, he starts to develop borderline-lethal feelings for her. Just a Yandere version of she fell first but he fell harder trope.

There are like 50+ other stuff for non-batfamily/bat-rogues characters I want to write but those are mostly one-shots. I should probs make a proper master for all these lol.

Anyway let me know if anyone ever wants to discuss these stories/wips or which ones you guys like more so I can get to work on them lol.

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

Good Omens - January reads part #2 - fanfics recs 🤓🩷

Follow along for short summaries and recs on the books i read🩷 The numbers are for funsies - i want to count my reads throughout 2025.

I only read finished stories and one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Ratings in ()

Multichapterfics

13] Or Be Nice (E) by @charlottemadison42

Aziraphale ist happy to move into his new appartment in Soho after his breakup. What he is not so happy about is the noise nuisance of a neighbour he has, who likes to play his drums in the middle of the night. When the nice and polite way of finding a solution through talking seems futile, its time to try another way.

One of the best enemies-to-lovers human Au i ever read, a classic must-read for everyone in the fandom. The banter is hilarious!

Best laugh:

Aziraphale: "You can walk."

Crowley: "Allegedly." 😂

14] Any foolish Thing (E) by @caedmonfaith

Human Au. Crowley is a lawyer - and a real asshole. His businesspartner threatens to cancel their partnership unless Crowley takes a month off. So Tadfield it is. Surprised by sudden rain he stumbles into a shop full of books and candies. You'll never guess who the owner is. 😉

15] Arise my Darling and go forth (E) by @naromoreau

Human Au. Father Aziraphale likes his perish and is shocked to learn that a second priest will join him. But father Crowley is rather pleasant to be with and soon they both find themselves questioning ... everything.

The story takes turns in the POV and lets the reader glimpse into their inner turmoil - they are men of God, after all. Beautiful language and art! 🩷

This wonderful art is unrelated, but i am so in awe with it that i wanted to share it. You will find it here and it is by @flypanegg88 !

16] Epistolary (E) by @maaikeatthefullmoon aka Imposterssyndrome

Set after the end of S2, Crowley discovers Aziraphales diaries in the bookshop. He learns like A LOT about how the angel feels and their missunderstandings throughout the centuries. As he can´t talk to Aziraphale any more, Crowley starts a diary as well.

This is part-1 of a series!

17] 1888 (T) by Imposterssyndrome aka @maaikeatthefullmoon

Technically a oneshot but it is part of this series. 1888 is a diary-entry of our angel about this one time he tried to learn the gavotte.

Can be read as a stand-alone but probably doesnt make any sense without

18] The Angel Miscalculated (E) by @imposterssyndrome aka @maaikeatthefullmoon

This is part 3 of Epistolary, we get to know Aziraphale´s point of view while up in heaven.

The whole series ends practically in between S2 and S3. I don´t know whether further installments are planned - but i´ve got you covered!!

19] And i did [E] by @di-42

This is so funny, i was the beta for this story and it fits perfectly after the end of part-3 of Epistolary (see above). This story starts out with Aziraphale up in heaven and Crowley being the Grand Duke of Hell. They are on opposite sites - aren´t they?

"The angel deserved to know how marvellous he was being and how enraptured he was making Crowley feel.

“Angel... ngk... fuck!” he squealed. Nailed it, Crowley, well done." 😂

20] Aziraphale´s naked man friend [M] by @naughtyspirit

Set between S1 and S2, Aziraphale opens to door of his bookshop to find a naked Crowley outside. The demon has lost the memory of the last 24 hours and together they go on a quest to find out what has happened. If they happen to choose a "date" as cover-up for their investigations, it is only because it would help their quest. Of course.

Very funny and nice read, biggest laugh: "Once a wily serpent, always able to wiggle."

Oneshots

21] Bless you (T) by @terrorandchaos

Its been a nice afternoon in the bookshop. That is, until Crowley sneezes and Aziraphale mindlessly says "Bless you." To a demon.😅

22] Strokes make clean the innermost parts (E) by @depraveddame

Father Crowley feels the need to punish himself after a night with his gardener Aziraphale. Things do not go as planned ... pls do mind the tags!!! 🌶️

23] The co-pilot (e) by @e-rated-beardo

Human Au. When policeofficer Aziraphale sits in the Pub on a friday evening, he is quite happy to see his friend Crowley joining him for a pint. Though - honestly - the bottle of wine Aziraphale has up his flat light be a better idea. 😁

24] A wish your heart made (G) by @avoicebehindthestars

Set after they averted the second coming. Crowley asks Aziraphale about their future.

Be careful with this one and do mind the tags - this is my big exception from the "only good endings"-list. Still - worth a read! 💔

25] My songs know what you did in the dark (E) by @hazelsage

Aziraphale learns that humans fear dangling their legs out of bed, because a demon might lurk underneath and grab them. He tells Crowley about this ridiculous fear. And dangles a leg out of bed that night. 😉

26] You're Back (T) by @avoicebehindthestars

35 years after hell has taken him, Crowley finds himself back in London with a splitting headache, unable to do anything but lay still in the ground. Aziraphale finds him and helps him recover. 🩷So tender!

27] If you were church, i'd Go down in my knees [E] by @hazelsage

When Crowley gets to watch an angry Aziraphale defending his bookshop against measly investors, he only knows one way of worshipping his Angel. 🌶️

28] Hot Whiskey Eyes [E] by @hazelsage

Sometimes Crowley needs his mouth stuffed to be able to shut up his incessantly brain. Thankfully Aziraphale likes to help. 🌶️

Reading keeps me sane. Thank you all for writing! 🩷🤗

[dawnbirdwhistle]

A cozy Viktor piece~ 🔥🧡

I am so happy with how he turned out omg 😭

If any of you are curious, there is a semi-speedpaint for him under the cut!

Semi, bc like. I only recorded the first half and just forgot about it tbh xd but I did make wip shots at least, so that's something!)

I guess the story behind this one is that he is supposed to be looking at Jayce Talis, because I ship it (lol), or technically we are Jayce, looking at Viktor from his POV after a nap in a cozy cottage as they wake up :)

A big part of the fun was coming up with the book titles, lmk if they are unreadable xd

Hope you like it <3

If you check it out, thank you sm 🥺

[pedgito]

wip wednesday

tagged by @perotovar, @guiltyasdave & @yxtkiwiyxt <3

listen. we're procrastinating shit right now and i'm craving so much dbf!joel that i have buried myself in a six part (so far) document appropriately titled dilf chronicles for the foreseeable future

she's horny as hell but i'm giving the tamest bit i can while i write to avoid the stress of life rn 🤠

“So,” Joel beings after a long growing silence and a chunk of time on the road as your cross one leg over the other and stare quietly out the window, feeling lost on how to approach the situation as you’ve clearly grown and changed, a similar pinched expression that both his daughter’s carried when they were bothered or annoyed, all in the brow and drawn together, your fingers scratching absently where you were gripping your bicep, “how’s college been treatin’ you?” “Fine. I’m not gonna sit here and bore you to death with astrophysics so don’t ask,” You quip with a subtle smile, “If my dad can’t keep up I know you sure as hell can’t.” “Is that an age joke?” Joel asks genuinely. “I dunno, gramps,” You shrug, “is the moon round?” It was rhetorical, right? Joel chuckles at how easily you fall back into your old banter. “It’s not,” You tell him, “just so you know.” Joel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "The moon's not round? Since when?" You can't help but laugh at his bewildered expression.  "It's actually slightly egg-shaped. Technically, it's an oblate spheroid." "Well, I'll be damned," Joel mutters, shaking his head. "Learn something new every day. Guess they're teaching you all sorts of fancy things at that college of yours."

np tags: @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @ovaryacted @joeloverture @jolapeno @hauntedhowlett

[runawaydr3amerao3]

20 Fanfic Author Questions ✍️🤔

Friend has given Dreamer a tag! Friend loves Dreamer! 🥹 Thanks, @sixtysevenautomatic. 🥰

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.ೃ࿐

1. How many works on AO3?

24 👏

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

604,954 🥳

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos?

(These are all Supernatural, Wincest, and Explicit, by the way.)

Tell Him That His Lonesome Nights Are Over (426), Part 1 in Sandman 'verse

And then the entire West series, just out of order. Lol.

Part 4: Unless I Can't Resist (315) Part 3: When I'm Bad (260) Part 1: Run It All Over (259) Part 2: The One I Never Tried (229)

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Only SPN and SPN Real Person Fic these days. There was a drabble in LotR RPF way back in the day, and a fic or three in the Fandom-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but that was over 20 years ago. SPN and J2 have had my heart for most of the time since.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I always, always do my best to reply to comments because I am so grateful for them, but I readily admit I drop the ball sometimes (a lot of the time). My heart skips a beat every time one appears in my inbox, though, and they're devoured with the joy of a teenage girl receiving a love note from her first crush.

Unfortunately, my mental health and other brain things get in the way sometimes, so it can take me a long time to reply, which I feel like absolute trash about. But I do my best to put the shame aside and reply eventually. Those who have responded to my apologies have always been very understanding, which I'm thankful for.

6. Angstiest Ending?

I'm straight-up allergic to unhappy endings, fam, so you're unlikely to come across one in my writing. I mean, there are a couple of parts in the Preset 'verse (Wincest/J2 crossover, Explicit) that have unhappy endings, but I was posting that as a WIP, so there was some angst before it got resolved. It's still not technically finished, but it wasn't left in a bad place.

The only other one could be The More Things Change (J2, Explicit), which definitely has an element of bittersweetness to the ending. It's sweet overall, but it's there.

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

I'm not sure I can actually answer this one, since most of my fics have happy endings. 🤔 Shout-out to my latest fic, Drag Out From Your Mouth (unrelated-Wincest but not a full SPN AU, Explicit)? 😂

8. Do you get hate?

The only "hate" I can remember was when I posted the first part of Sandman. The very first comment was from some anti-bottom!Dean dumpster fire complaining that I'd written another bottom!Dean fic when there was already so much of it available. My eyes nearly rolled out of my head at the entitlement.

Oh, and I guess I got a couple of general anti-Wincest comments on a post in my fic rec side blog @imthedr3amer recently? That sort of thing is just very ignorable (once I've had a rant to someone about how dumb it is, anyway).

9. Do you write smut?

I probably write more smut than I do actual plot.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yesss. Only one kind so far, though, and that's what I mentioned above with the SPN/RPF crossover, the Preset 'verse. There needs to be so much more fic about Sam and/or Dean meeting Jared and/or Jensen. Please. We are so hungry. 🥺

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. If anyone ever sees that shit, hit me up.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of. Someone did ask once, but I declined because I'm a control freak and I'm not sure how I feel about not being able to do quality assurance on something like that. Language is a delicate and nuanced thing, and I guess I worry something wouldn't cross the language barrier properly? I've heard stories. But also, not being able to field comments and questions from readers doesn't sit right with me either. I don't know. I don't know!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Not exactly, although I did have the pleasure of writing Certain Souls (Wincest, Explicit) which is, with permission, a fic set in a 'verse created by my bestie, @sam-is-my-safe-word! 🥰 They alpha read all of my writing these days and vice versa, so they were very involved anyway, but I sought even more input than usual on what they thought Sam and Dean would do here or there, or if they had a preference for this or that action/dynamic/etc.

I think it's likely that we'll properly co-author something in the future. We have very complimentary interests (and kinks) and we make each other worse riff off each other's ideas really well.

14. All time favourite ship?

WINCEST SUPREMACY

[Answer unchanged from previous tagger. ✊]

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I would really love to continue the Preset 'verse. I was about 30k into the next part when my computer died like eight years ago or something? It wasn't the hard drive, I don't think, so in theory I could resurrect and continue, but I have other WIPs higher on the priority list these days. Given the pace I write at, it's hard to say if that will ever happen.

16. Writing Strengths?

Uhh, smut, maybe? Lol.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

Oh-ho, now you're talking. The inability to cull unnecessary scenes is a big one for me. I write very self-indulgently. I write fanfiction because there's stuff that we didn't and would never get in canon, so just because it's not necessary for the story doesn't mean I don't want to see it in its full, overly-descriptive glory. And if I want to see it, maybe others do too, even if it doesn't deepen our understanding of the character or move the plot forwards. 🤷‍♀️

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

It's not something I've ever done in my fics (that I recall...), but as a reader, I find it frustrating when there's a language other than English and the other characters in the scene understand it but I'm given no way to know except by maybe skipping to the end notes for a glossary. If the other characters in the scene, or the POV character, don't understand either, it's reasonable that I wouldn't, so a glossary at the end is fine and good. If there's no translation mid-fic or at the end, regardless of anyone's understanding, that's extra frustrating. We are curious creatures, people!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ah, yes, that would be the Fandom-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named. 🖕 🏳️‍⚧️✊ I was 12/13 and I wrote it in an exercise book that I hid under my mattress, where no one would ever think to look. I still have it. I really need to get rid of it in case I die and my family has to go through my shit.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I'm really proud of the Sandman 'verse. Most of that poured out of me after over 10 years of not having posted anything in the fandom, just reappearance of the muse out of nowhere (although the inspiration that kick-started it certainly wasn't—eternal shout-out rights to @spnyuri. 🥰).

The last fic in the 'verse, Crumbling In Your Hand, Part III: You Conquered Me (Wincest, Explicit) is one I'm very proud of. I really enjoy writing things like text message exchanges and video calls, other digital communication methods, etc., plus, I mean, reunion sex where someone gets bent over the Impala? I can only lead you to the water, my friends. 😂

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.ೃ࿐

Tagging, as always, with maximum encouragement but minimum pressure: @sam-is-my-safe-word @talltalesandbedtimestories @bigmouthlass @thoughtslikeaminefield @xpurdyglambertx 💖

@chiquititasnewsong @felisblanco @goshen-applecrumbledore @compo67 @zmediaoutlet 💖

[patrice-bergerons]

Work is once again super intense this week so unable to make much progress on my actual WIP, I wrote something quick — it technically comes after the current installment of the law au i am working on, so you can consider it a delicious little teaser of sorts.

It's only a tie—there is no point in making it into a bigger deal than it is. A very expensive tie, the understated elegance of which not a single soul with a modicum, nay, the tiniest sliver, of sartorial sense could miss, but it is anyone's guess with Francis, isn't it, because even the lowest bar turns into Mount Everest when it comes to him and fashion.

Besides he may have well been dressed for work already when he opened his front door this morning, in one of his dull insipid suits no doubt, and been too lazy or in too much of a rush to change. James may not run into him at all in the next few minutes. Francis had a hearing in the morning, sure, but the courthouse lobby gets as busy as a beehive during lunch hour, with barristers and solicitors and clerks running about to grab a quick bite before rushing back into afternoon sessions or rushing in from the outside or rushing back out to their chambers and offices. It takes very little to lose someone in a crowd like that. Francis may equally decide to hang back and converse with a work acquaintance he ran into in the hallway and not emerge until after James has left. It is possible. It is fine. James is not here for him. He is here because he is grabbing lunch with someone, who also happened to be in court this morning, and he wanted to make life as convenient for her as possible. Because he is a good friend.

God, he is such a crap friend.

Appalled, he stops himself, closes his eyes, and does his best to take a slow, full breath. He has missed the hubbub of a courthouse, all that noise around him, the indistinct chatter and the clacking of a dozen heels against the hard floor. It is great to finally get out of the flat, to put on a good suit and take on the world, and these…unfortunate thoughts and sensations he is experiencing are the after ripples of trauma, nothing more. He may not have had his head on straight for the last week, in a manner most unfamiliar and unbecoming to himself, but he has also barely been able to get into the shower without triggering a full blown panic attack, so there is that.

Once he almost called Francis actually, to come and sit outside the bathroom door, only stopping himself, grinding his teeth, and getting on with it because he knew Francis would come. And it would be just a tad awkward, wouldn’t it, what with the guy he is currently seeing also presently in his flat. He has not at all considered that he could go and shower in Francis’s flat instead, because that would be, in one word, insane.

He casts his gaze around the space, looking for Marianne and Marianne only, when–

"James?"

James turns around, his breath caught in his throat all of a second like a helpless, small bird.

He is here. He has found James—he always does—he is already making his way towards him, parting an undulating crowd like Moses with the Red Sea as he walks.

He is wearing the tie.

James has seen a bit of him in the past week but not much. Chris, the dear that he is, has been staying over to look after him, and Francis has apparently given up on the one man war of attrition he has been waging against the parliamentary Conservative Party, one MP at a time, for now. Possibly, for good and for good reason.

But there is no recrimination in his eyes or his voice now as he says "don’t tell me you are back at work already." Just a bit of concern and an ocean of affection. Francis is glad to see him and he isn't even trying to hide it, the bastard.

“No, I am only here to meet a friend for lunch.”

James's voice sounds gravelly, distant, to his own ears.

Is it as simple as that? When you realise what a moron you are being buy me another tie in apology—a very expensive one, he had huffed, and James has, but after everything he has put Francis through, after everything Francis has done for him– Francis is such a Labour man at heart he has nationalised forgiveness. James has to suppress a laugh at that thought, which makes him cough instead. Immediately a hand comes to rest on his arm. Gentle, steadfast—like air to him when he could not breathe. Like air to him now.

"I won't overdo it mum, I promise," he replies gallantly, doing his best not to shiver. Then, "how are you? How is your day?"

"Not bad, actually."

The declaration takes Francis by surprise, James can tell—not the words that fall out of his mouth per se, but the truth of it. Neither of them has mentioned the tie. James does not think it is in his imagination only that Francis is standing a little straighter today, charisma oozing from him in every direction. James has been trying to tell him for ages what a difference dressing well makes for one's psyche, only for his plea to fall on deaf ears. Perhaps he has finally seen the light.

"I should say," Francis starts, "thank–" but he is interrupted with the sound of a ringing phone. His phone. Bugger. He takes it out, he glances at the screen, and James knows their time has come to an end before Francis opens his mouth to say, with such a note of apology in his voice,

"I am sorry, I need to take this."

"Yes, of course. I won't keep you." God knows he couldn't if he tried—keep him. Have him. James gestures towards the sliding doors with a brave smile. "My friend should be here any minute, I will catch you back home."

Francis looks at him for another second, with his ridiculously blue eyes, like the Mediterranean on a summer afternoon, serene and beautiful and filled with light, and James wonders what would happen if he said– whoever is not calling is not nearly as important as me. Ignore them and take me to lunch. He doesn't. He may be a bastard but he is not that much of a bastard. Francis nods, answers the phone, and starts to walk again, this time towards and through the doors.

Only once Francis is gone does he stumble to the nearest bench, reaching for the rescue inhaler in his pocket because his traitorous lungs are refusing to let enough air into his body. He closes his eyes and still all he can see are Francis’s eyes, a near perfect match for the colour of the tie, of the pocket square. His hand on James’s arm. His hand wiping James’s tears and reaching for James’s hand. His hand wrapped around–

Oh, this is bad, he thinks, because there is a gaping, bleeding hole where his heart used to be.

He does not get crushes. He does not fall in love; he is not a teenager, thank you very much. Let alone with straight men.

Let alone with Francis Crozier.

He chuckles to himself. You save a man's life and this is your reward apparently. No matter. Marianne will come and find him in a minute. James will greet her then and smile and have lunch. And he will teach himself, perhaps on the cab ride back, to be for once, grateful with what he has been so generously given—and to not ask for more.

[claraxbarton]

2024 (hrpf writing) in Review

So, looking back on 2024 and the things I wrote, I just wanted to take a moment to be kind to myself I guess and shout-out my 10 favorite fics I wrote this last year.

The list also has a few of my thoughts about the fics, just because like, I want to.

All below the cut - but first! Thank you so so so SO much to everyone who took the time to leave a comment on any of my fics. I can't say enough how much it means to know folx are out there reading and thinking and feeling about my words.

In no particular order, my favorite 10 fics I either started or finished in 2024:

Gold Rush MattDrai, E, 47k. The fic where Leon is very grumpy and very bitchy and very dumb, and also outed against his will and also against his will falls for Matthew Tkachuk. This took more research than I anticipated, because for some reason I am SO fixated on trying to make my fake things fit into canonical timelines. I think I did a good job developing Leon's voice - both in dialogue and internally. It's so difficult for me to write text message things and yet this fic is SO MUCH OF THAT. I think one of my all time favorite comments was on this fic, someone saying that they actually confused my Leon-press dialogue with real Leon-press and that... made me so happy.

Playing Favorites LarsDunn, E, 15k. Adam has a favorite camboy and then that camboy turns out to be a real person who gets a real job with the Kraken. (oh wow, this fic is like the NY Rangers worst nightmare, eh??) Anyway. Probably my first longer hrpf fic??? Technically started in December of 23, I feel so bad that it took 8 months to finish. Thanks everyone who stuck with that one. This fic let me indulge in my favorite thing - previous Adam/Leon, which will always be so so so close to my heart. I think this fic, like most Kraken centric fic (and like not even mine, how many of us get all heart eyes when we think about her?, was written because of the amazing support of @dwisp.

Each Night MattPoMo, E, 3k. Technically I'm listed the entire series, currently at 3 parts and currently the third is still a WIP. Matthew as a sex worker, Paul still comes to Florida to coach the Panthers. I'm enjoying getting to have Paul work through human feelings, Matthew being a brat, and, of course, all the miscommunication. Seriously am I capable of writing a fic that DOESN'T involve miscommunication? Unlikely.

As It Began WyJoMiro (and WyJoRoope in the series and of course WyJoMiroRoope), 4, 2.5k. Okay, of the 4 fics I'm listing, three involve sexwork. Huh. Moving along. Miro mistakes/assumes Wyatt is a sex worker and that, of course, leads to a four year relationship between Wyatt and Miro and Roope (yes again this is really listing the series and not just the one fic). Really enjoyed getting to write the different POVs with each installation, exploring how all three of these freaks evolve and, oh wow, MORE miscommunication??? In MY fic??

Say Yes (To Heaven)NateJo, E, 55k+ - the first WIP to make the list (which, for those of you wondering, WILL get updated this next week). Okay it's been five months of writing this one, a biological BDSM inspired by the amazing and foundational works of @angry-geno-is-score and @droumack. There's just something about Jo and Nate that is SO compelling, no matter the setting, but like, getting to play in this kind of world setting is fun and painful. I think the things I've enjoyed the most are bringing in outside perspectives - like Sid, and even Nate to an extent, and just trying to unwrap all of the mess.

Heavy Focus McMattDrai, M, 2.7k. Space-opera with space brats Matthew and Brady. This was silly and fun and like, I won't say it's the BEST thing I wrote in 2024, but it WAS one of the fics I had the most fun writing. And I know I skew angst like, maybe TOO hard, but, sometimes it IS fun to write the fun things.

Soft Rock WyJoRoope, RoopeMiro, E, 5.6k. Speaking of fun4fun. This WAS just silly. I'm so lucky that @coffeehound91 lets me shout about things, and we'd been shouting about a LuckyNumberSlevin WyJo thing and she had the great line about WyJo killing Bettman with a butterknife and well, it just unspooled into this fic. And like, let's be real, ALL of my fics that feature Wyatt, Roope and Miro in any combination are entirely the fault of CH and like, I am SO so grateful.

French Exit MattOthers, T, 5k. Another bio-BDSM fic. Another series. I just really love to write BratKing Matthew who is actually a total pushover and this series was really fun to write, because who doesn't want to write feral Panthers things and Matthew finding peace and success there lol.

Deep End NateJo, E, 3k. An a/b/o fic and it is... I still maintain, really, really filthy. I don't think I've ever written something that makes me yikes myself as much as this one does, so it's not a favorite for like, reasons that make sense. But still, this was a sharp turn for my usual and I did it. So. Good job me?

Greatest Hits LarsDunn, LarsLeon, DunnLeon, E, 1.7k. Okay, actually, why have I not further explored these three? I know I wrote several fics when them when I first started in hrpf at the end of '23, but I have move away from them and I just really think THIS fic was so much fun and the dynamics to explore between these three are... a lot.

OKAY that's my 10 favorite fics I wrote for 2024. Again, comments and the kudos and bookmarks mean so much. AND the asks!! Thanks to everyone who sends in asks -UTD anon and others, looking at you <3.

For 2025 I want to finish up the current 14?15? WIPs I've got going, and of course along the way write a lot more.

<3

(seems wild to solicit feedback but like, if you have opinions on my 2024 work I certainly won't NOT want to hear them. Or read them.)

[martsonmars]

Thanks for the tags @monbons @hushed-chorus and @whatevertheweather. I'm back and it's pick a WIP Sunday!

I really want to get back into writing Snowbaz and participating actively in the fandom. I don't exactly have more free time but I did graduate and I am technically on holiday until October, so let's try.

So I'm sharing snippets from 6 WIPs and maybe I'll be inspired to finish one of them. Help me out!!!!

1. Where Baz is a different blood sucking creature than usual. Prince and the frog but the prince is just a guy and the frog is trying to steal your blood.

The heat would be more than sufficient to make Simon reconsider all of his life choices. Give up on meat. Never touch plastic again. He'd do anything.

But no, clearly whatever sin he's committed—was it writing Jesus/Judas fanfiction when he was 15? It wasn't even explicit!—was enough to condemn him to this.

2. Holiday with the Grimms, where Simon and Baz share a bed in the same room as Malcolm and Daphne.

“Sorry I haven't delivered to my father an updated list of all the cocks I've sucked.” He wasn't smiling, but I could hear the smirk in his voice. The fake smugness. I know he's sucked half a cock (half sucked one cock?) and it was quite a disaster. “He doesn't know how deeply my virtue has already been fucked.”

I still snort at the thought. (The answer is not deeply at all.)

3. TA Simon and Baz showing up to class in a slutty Blackbeard cosplay.

I don't need a complaint for assault (let alone sexual assault) to drive my doctorate even farther away from my grasp.

I just need Grimm-Pitch to leave my classroom and come back wearing proper trousers before my overworked brain cells decide to go on permanent strike. (I'm not sure they haven't deserted me already.)

More snippets and tags under the cut!

4. Where Baz is a dryad and Simon is a woodcutter.

Simon didn't know many things, but he was pretty sure that pines weren't pretty men with long dark hair and pouty lips. Of course, Simon had never seen a man with dark green skin before, either, but he resembled a man more than a pine.

“You are not a pine. You're a man,” Simon voiced his scepticism, and he was rewarded with one more pine cone hitting his forehead. If nothing, the tree man had an impeccable aim.

5. Secret concept for this one.

Tucked in a corner as if he was trying to make himself seem smaller, yet he's got my attention like the masterpiece in a museum. Even the dim light of the pizzeria is enough to imagine the shine of his bronze curls under the summer sun. He's pale and freckled, broad and solid. Sturdy like the old table in my living room. I can perfectly see how he'd fit there, between a stack of Spinoza's complete works and the cabinet where my grandmother's Capodimonte porcelain sits unused. His back to the floor-to-ceiling window that opens on the terrace, surrounded by the bright halo of the hours before sunset. Bright like a Michelangelo in a room that's all Caravaggio.

6. This one I'm going to continue for sure when inspiration strikes, so it's not part of pick a WIP Sunday. It's maybe guess the WIP Sunday in this case.

“Sounds like you could use a break,” his deep voice says from a corner of the hall, as if he's read my mind. I see a pair of long legs first—legs for miles—crossing the room towards me, wrapped in a pair of trousers so tight I can't help but wonder how he'll take them off. (Not that I'm thinking of Baz without trousers.) (I mean, I've seen him without trousers. He wears chitons most of the time.) (He also wears really short shorts.) (I just mean I'm not thinking about taking his trousers off.) (Just. I mean.)

Tags!! No pressure just saying hi because I miss you all!!!

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @j-nipper-95 @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @nightimedreamersworld @captain-aralias @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @run-for-chamo-miles @valeffelees @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @aristocratic-otter @noblecorgi

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for 🦄; Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim would date a girl too, is all. Like, he’d be just as down to date a girl as he would a guy. He’s said that before, even, and Kon remembers teasing him about it during some random training session–how he was just being a fucking Bat and trying to maximize his options with a contingency plan because he sucked at talking to chicks so bad. Tim had thrown one of the MMA gloves he’d been stripping off at him and he’d dodged it and laughed, and Tim had laughed too, and– 

Just, like . . . if it were Steph under him right now, or if Bernard were a girl . . . 

Kon’s weird little thought remembers the idea of “Robin” bossing him around as a reward for good behavior back in the day, and then it thinks about Tim bossing him around now. Like–they wouldn’t necessarily have to, like . . . do anything, but if Steph had ever asked him if he wanted to come over, or if Bernard were, he doesn’t know, a Bernie or a Bebe or a Beatrix– 

They could’ve done some of this without the pink K getting involved, then. Like–right? Like . . . they could’ve . . . shared somebody, kind of, or Tim could’ve just told him what to do for somebody, or–

If Tim would be . . . into that, anyway, or . . . just like, Tim likes watching, clearly, and Kon's not exactly body-shy or anything, and it’s not like he'd have minded if Tim had maybe ended up getting off a little bit to him too and not just whatever girl’d decided she was willing to put up with both of them at once in the clearly noble pursuit of getting doubly dicked down–he'd probably have just been a smug asshole about it, if anything–so . . . 

Except it wouldn’t really be Tim sharing someone with him, some weird, uncomfortable and also uncomfortably turned-on little part of Kon thinks. It’d be more like Tim sharing him with–

He feels weird, immediately, and shuts down that whole line of thought before it can get any weirder. 

But it’s–there’s something about it that he doesn’t . . . that he . . . 

Kon stops thinking about it, because for one thing Bernard’s dick is still pressed up warm and hard against his stomach and he is still more than pink K’ed-up enough to appreciate it being there, and for another–for another, it’s just a dumb thought. Just–some weird little thing that occurred to him; not even a real fantasy or whatever. 

Just–a thought, kinda. 

That’s all. 

“Your curiosity is a gift and a treasure, sir,” Bernard says approvingly, lifting his hands up to slide up the sides of Kon’s neck and cup his face, and Kon bites his lip and tightens his TTK up around him again just a little. “Ah–nn. Sorry, I was saying things and having thoughts, but apparently they weren’t that important because I have forgotten literally every single one of them. Hey man, what are you and your aesthetically perfect dick’s thoughts on getting some more data about that whole ‘can we get you too sensitive to go any longer?’ experiment. It’s for science, you know. Science and the good of humankind. Or . . . sapientkind, maybe, since actually ‘humankind’ is not a useful descriptor in this scenario, is it, hm. I should maybe be picking my words more carefully in these situations, yeah, sorry.” 

“Sorry for what?” Kon asks, wrinkling his nose at him in a little bit of confusion. 

“I don’t know, you’re half-alien, was that, like, half a microaggression? A demi-microaggression?” Bernard asks, looking briefly sheepish. “Well–okay actually you’re zero percent alien, I guess, technically speaking, unless Cadmus Labs is not located where I thought it was.” 

“Uh,” Kon says, still a little confused. “They were outside Metropolis . . .?”

[strscrmmylove]

okay so I finished watching whatever the fuck was that tfp fan movie.

Here's my humble opinion (long post + spoilers)

- so let's begin with what bugs me first, tf they did to Arcee bruh?? (Noo my shayla😭😭) I kinda felt she was somewhat in character (this is really lowkey btw) but the thing bothering me is the blatant intention to try and sexualize her bro. Rodimus hitting on her and technically eyeing her every now and then literally killed something in me everytime (also I'm that part of the fandom that kinda likes to potray HotRod, Bee and Cee as siblings so ts was deffo makin it worse)

- THE SLIDESHOWS MAN I CAN'T GET OVER THAT LMAO. it was like when child me discovered how to use the powerpoint transitions but worse.

- ALSO THE EXPLOSIONS AND SOUND EFFECTS LOOOL, whenever there was an explosion I'd lose my shit, that was unintenionally funny as fuck (also the lasers and shit, kinda looked like the lasers you'd get from a weapon in a roblox tycoon)

- the sudden no transitions of the bots when switching modes. i remember being 10 and being obsessed w this dude's channel as i waited for the movie and bro would upload renders and wips where you'd see the actual smooth transformation sequence, not whatever tf was this.

-knock out's optics and his voice, we lost a baddie 💔

-optimus returning, i mean idk how to feel abt it, normal i guess (yes, i unironically like rid2015), but bro dragging Megatron w him? Idk bro i recall perfectly from that one tfp episode that OP quite literally crashed out when Megs killed Bee, so ion think he'd be that happy to see him again (the same applies to Bumblebee)

- Rodimus (shouldn't it had been Hot Rod? being insufferable omfg, bro just STOP

I think that's it for now