#totally the kind of thing I’m looking for!

[luveline]

this request may be a bit of a long shot, but would you be willing to write a drabble for mouth of september? maybe she gives the boys a scare either by going out and then not coming home at the time she said she would or maybe she faints from not having eaten enough? totally okay if you don’t want to or if you want to use this as a prompt for something else, mos has just been one of your fic series that i think about pretty consistently even two-ish years later.

anyway have a great day and hope you’re doing well jadey <3 love u

I love you! me writing this actually did feel like a longshot but not cos I didn’t love it and not cos I don’t love u, I hope you enjoy it!! been so long since I wrote this !!🩵 fem! 4k words

cw suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation

It’s cold tonight. 

You blow on your fingers, feeling them warm, stiffness lanced for precious few seconds. You didn’t mean to walk so far from the house, not while the wind is racing like this. The corner shop just seemed to move around while you weren’t looking. You should’ve asked Sirius to go with you, he has a better sense of direction, even if he would’ve complained the whole time about the shit weather. 

Remus would’ve come and not complained, but he was sleeping at the time and waking him felt cruel. James would’ve come, racing around in Lily’s car, but then he would’ve followed you back into the house insisting on making you some supper or a cuppa or something, and what you’d wanted was to be alone. A bar of chocolate wouldn’t hurt either. 

Stupid travelling corner shop, you think to yourself. Stupid me for fucking losing it. Should’ve just stayed home. Can’t even walk to the shop. 

You take a deep breath. You give the streets a wretched, embarrassed glare and flop down onto the nearest bench. Fuck’s sake. Lost and freezing to death. 

If Sirius were here, if he heard what you were thinking, he’d frown at you with that dark pinch to his eyes and tell you to Stop it, now. 

He’s maybe half of the reason you’re out of the house tonight. Maybe all of it. It’s all complicated and horrible and everyone thinks it’s a bad idea but the thing is that Sirius himself isn’t complicated, he isn’t horrible. He’s kind to you in funny ways, and when you’re together Sirius makes you feel like you’re someone worth being kind too, which doesn’t happen often. 

Your self annoyance fades to something more familiar soon enough. Everything goes quiet, leaving you there with your heart, quick and slow beating, can’t seem to choose, and your cold feet. Your socks feel too tight. 

Your teeth start to chatter. You can’t sit here forever. 

(But wouldn’t it be better? If you stayed? Caught cold?) 

If you get poorly from the cold, you’ll feel miserable from the moment you wake up. You’ll be ill at work, which will make work worse. You’ll have to stay in your room so you don’t get one of the boys sick, and that really would ruin your week. Nothing means anything if you don’t get to see your best friends. 

You gather yourself up and turn toward the street you’d just walked down, determined to retrace your steps. 

In the distance, a familiar shape is jogging toward you. 

“Y/N?” James shouts, sounding as though all the breath in the world has been sucked from his lungs. He doesn’t stop jogging until he gets a few feet from you, where he bends to catch his breath. “Fucking hell!” His head snaps up. “Fuck, shortcake, are you alright?” 

You close the distance. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you?” He forces himself to stand, breathing hard as he grabs you by the wrist. “Are you okay? You scared me so badly.” 

You grab his arm back. “I’m really fine, I’m fine, what’s wrong?” 

“You’re what’s wrong, you aren’t home!” James swallows a lump. “You left a note, you’d be home by seven. It’s nearly ten. Remus rang me in a fit ‘cos he didn’t know where you’d gone, we thought–” James gives you an imploring look, though it’s so so sorry at the same time, you feel your stomach twist into a hard knot. “We thought you were having a bad night.” 

“James.” Embarrassment makes you soft-toned. “I’m really sorry I scared you, but I got lost, that’s all.” You don’t really like to lie, only James seems to need to hear it. “I’m glad you found me. I was worried I wouldn’t get home.” 

James gives a breathy laugh. “Oh, good.” 

You’re pulled into a hug. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“No, it’s okay.” He rubs your back with force. It feels more for him than you, though you don’t exactly mind it. You can pretend as much as you want that you don’t like it when the boys give you affection, but they know it’s not true, and they know it’s alright to give it to you most days. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine as long as you’re fine.” 

“Fine,” you say. 

He pulls away. “Oh, god. Alright, let’s go back to the house. It’s freezing, you’re not wearing a proper coat?” 

“I didn’t plan on being out long.” 

“No?” 

He takes you by the shoulder to encourage you back the way you came. “Just wanted some chocolate,” you say. 

“I’ll get you some.” 

You both know it doesn’t add up. James doesn’t make you say much else, relieved you’re alright, and you fester in the guilt of worrying him so harshly. 

“Where are your glasses?” you ask. 

“I forgot them in the car.” 

“Where is the car?” 

“Remus thought you might’ve gone to the library, you were supposed to take that Sky-Fi back.” 

“Sci-fi.” 

“Right, the space books. He took it to see if you were walking home, I said I’d come this way, and Sirius…” James grimaces. “Not sure where he went. He was already out by the time I got to the house.” 

“How are we gonna find him?” 

“He’ll come back eventually.” 

You stick close to James’ side, dodging crisped up leaves and following him down the dropped kerb and finally onto a familiar road. “Guess I’ve lived here so long, I should’ve known the way,” you say. 

“It’s alright.” 

You bite your cheek for a second. “I’m really sorry, James, I– I didn’t– is it really ten?” 

“…Aren’t you cold?” he asks softly. 

“I didn’t think about it.” 

“I wish you would.” He pokes his tongue against his cheek. “I want to know if you’re having a bad night. It’s alright if you were. If you need more time, more help, it’s okay.” 

“It’s not like that… not all of it. I was walking to the shops, I swear. Just feel so,” —your voice slips into a colour of shame you despise— “weird sometimes. I’m sorry I made you worry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” 

“Is this a common occurrence?” 

“Not the walk, just. Just this. Making you worry. I didn’t mean to make everybody worry.” 

“Well, I am worried. When you disappear for a couple more hours than you say you will, it’s scary.” James gives you a shrug. “I love you, I’m gonna wonder where you are.” 

“But–”

“I worry about Sirius when he goes to the pub until who knows when, worry about Lils when she does too many hours at work. I worry about Remus every day, his eyes are worse than mine ‘cos all he does is read,” he says with a laugh. “It’s fine.” 

“I worry about you too,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks, stricken. 

“Remus told me you can pop your knee out from your kneecap when you weight lift. I know you think it’s fun and stuff, but that’s scary.” 

“I’m getting fit!” He rolls his eyes. “Lily likes my abs.” 

“Well I liked you when you were soft.” 

James cackles at your poor fake-flirting. “I’ve never been soft, take that back! You know being captain made me solid as a rock.” 

“James?” a voice calls. 

You look up at the same time. Sirius is sitting on the wall in front of the house smoking; he takes a harsh, quick drag and stabs it out so hard that ash sullies his fingers as he stands. 

“Oh,” he says, blowing the smoke from his mouth quickly, his breath a ragged thing as he bounds across the road to hug you. “Sorry.”

You don’t get what he’s sorry for. “It’s okay.” 

He smells so strongly of smoke it’s like he’s blowing it under your nose, but he’s not so sharp to the touch. You falter at being touched kindly, feeling tension in his back as you curl an arm around him. 

Sirius digs his face into your neck. 

“Hey?” you ask quietly. 

He steps back suddenly, an accusing fist held between your two abdomens. “Where have you been?” he asks, and there’s the sharpness to match his smell, scowl turning his grey-blue eyes to pitch, lashes in a furious tangle. “You can’t do that. You can’t just disappear for hours.” 

“I’m sorry–”

“It’s not okay.”

“She said she’s sorry,” James interjects, “maybe let’s leave it?” 

“Being sorry doesn’t erase the last two hours of us panicking, though, does it?” 

“She got lost–”

“James, it’s okay, it’s–” You shake your head. “Maybe you should go inside to warm up? You’re not wearing a coat either.” 

“I was in a rush.” James gives Sirius a warning look. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. Five minutes and I’m coming back out.” 

James trudges up the garden path to the house. You twist your hands together, staring into Sirius’ face, wanting to see every bit of his anger, keeping tabs on all of it so as not to be surprised. You should’ve known he’d run out of patience with you eventually. He’s had to deal with your awful moods more than anyone else. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Do you realise how scary it is to worry you’ve hurt yourself?” Sirius asks starkly. 

You flinch. “It doesn’t exactly feel great for me, either.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Still, he softens. You feel like you’ve cheated. “I don’t understand. You got lost? How far away from the house were you?” 

“I don’t know, I was trying to go to Del’s.” 

“You’re not being honest with me, or any of us. It’s not fair. My heart is like a fucking racehorse,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest, fingertips smudgy with ash, “’cos all I’ve thought tonight is that you’d gone off and jumped off of a bridge or something. I know you wouldn’t.” He lets his hand fall. He quietens. It is almost apologetic, how he slows. “I know you wouldn’t. I knew you’d come home. But please don’t make me think about it.”

He’s gone pale in the cold, his hair in twists and tucked haphazard behind his ears. In his thick bomber jacket and his jeans, he could’ve just hopped of the bike, windswept as he is, but it’s the mark of worried hands having pushed his hair back repetitively rather than the weather, though the longer you stand there in the wind, the more tangled it becomes. “I dont get why you’re so determined to be alone,” he says. 

You don’t want to talk about it. When do you ever? More than ever, you’d like to stalk past him and slam your bedroom door, let him know you’re fine by yourself and seething, let him stay ignorant to you as you squirm in a bed you’ve come to hate. How often do you lay there wishing you could be alone forever? It’s not fair to anyone. It doesn’t make sense. They all love you and you feel sorry for them, ‘cos you tricked them, ‘cos you’re nothing worth thinking about for long. 

Sirius won’t stop frowning at you. It makes the drowning feeling worse. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, hoping this time it’ll stick. “I don’t know what happened, I just wasn’t thinking. I don’t feel very well.” 

“I know.” He scoffs to himself. You relax at the hint of self-deprecation. “It’s not your fault. I��m fucking furious with you but I know you can’t help it.” 

“Sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. For saying you’d jumped off a bridge, that’s horrible, but you really fucking worry me sometimes and I’m so relieved that you’re okay that it’s making me horrible.” 

“You’re not horrible.” 

“I’m mean.” 

“You’re not.”

“No, I am. You’re the only person who doesn’t see it. Or at least doesn’t say it.” Sirius rubs his face, scraping a stray hair from his nose. “Sorry for shouting. Here,” —he holds out his arm— “let’s have a proper one.” 

He hugs you nicely, no force to it, less lingering smoke. The scratch of his cheek catches yours, his hand at the bottom of your back, your jacket and shirt rising with every sweep of his touch. You press your closed eye to his hair. 

“Why didn’t you come and sit with me or– we could’ve talked. Could’ve just led in bed, doesn’t matter, I would’ve gone to the shop with you.” He squeezes you, pressing his nose to your shoulder. “I can be morbid. We can be two miserable layabouts together.” 

“I didn’t…” You cringe. “Sirius, it’s not on purpose, I swear. I didn’t do it to make you worry.” 

“I know that, Jesus.”

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re home.” 

You pull apart as a car turns onto the street. That’ll be Remus. Another for your troupe of worry. 

“What do you think, is he mad at me too?” you ask. 

“Remus?” Sirius gives you another half hug. “‘Course not.” 

And true to form, Remus climbs out of the car with a fond smile. “Hey, where have you been?” His hair ruffles in the wind, scars turned palest purple in the cold. “You need to learn how to tell time.” 

You let him hug you. “Sorry.” 

“That’s alright, let’s go inside though. Have some tea. Did you eat much today?” 

You ignore the question. “Tea,” you say. 

“Yeah.” 

Remus ushers you down the path to the house, Sirius on your other side like bodyguards. 

“Thanks for, uh, looking for me.” 

Remus takes you by the forearm. “We’ll always look for you. But next time, wake me up first.” 

You nod gratefully. “Uh, okay. Thank you.” 

“Stop saying thanks. It’s alright, Y/N. It’s fine.” 

That’s what you’ve all said, but it doesn’t make it true. 

—

James goes home, though he doesn’t want to. “I can stay,” he says over the rim of his mug, half-pleading, wanting you to ask him to. “We can have a sleepover.” 

You insist that you’re really fine, he has work tomorrow, it’s late. When he doesn’t move, you say, “I feel bad enough that you were out looking for me in the cold.” 

Your voice is pathetic and scratchy and he can tell you’re going to cry, they all can, so he doesn’t push it anymore than that. He goes home, and you go to bed, and Remus follows you up a little bit later with a glass of juice and some thick, buttered slices of teacake. 

“You okay?” he asks, climbing into bed next to you where you’re laying down. 

“Fine.” 

“Didn’t eat much today?” 

“No.” 

“Have the juice, at least.” 

You take the glass. 

Between your sorry sips, Remus picks at one of the slices of cake, steals looks at you, though he doesn’t try to hide what he’s doing. 

“Sorry about today. Didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“You can stop saying sorry.” Remus lets his head tip from one side to another. “I can hear it in your voice that you don’t want to say it. Not that I don’t believe that you’re really, actually sorry. But you keep repeating it because you’re worried I want you to do that, and I don’t.” 

“It’s what I should say.” 

“Well, you’ve said it.” Remus turns to you, all bookish and rakish at once, lovely but tired, and he must be giving you a similar appraisal. “I wanted to be your friend the second I first talked to you. It wasn’t guilt.” He shakes his head. Wasn’t ’cos they’d played that prank on you with the shoe-eating goo, spied on you crying in a school hallway, overwhelmed. “I just liked you, and that was without any sort of knowledge of what you’re like. Now that I know you, I couldn’t be rid of you. Truly. I love you, you know that?” He smiles gently. “Even when you need time and you disappear. Please… don’t really go anywhere though, will you?” 

“I won’t.” You decided a long time ago that ending your life wasn’t in the cards. There are terrifying moments, numb ones, blink-and-it’s over ones, where you feel like it’s the only option you have. But it ends eventually, or it sinks into a background to be forgotten until the next time it aches. 

“Are you eating properly?” he asks. 

“Remus–” You shake your head as he brings a hand to your forehead, like he might stroke your hair. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“You don’t like answering, that’s all.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“I’ve made you talk much more than you would’ve liked to, tonight.”

“I like talking to you. To all of you.” You rest your head on his thigh. “You really are my favourite people in the world, Remus. I wouldn’t… wouldn't give you up.” 

“Good,” he says, stroking your forehead just a few times. “‘Cos we can’t be without you.” 

Sirius finds you collapsing in on one another a little later and rounds the bed to lay on your other side. He doesn’t bother sitting as Remus did, pulling the blankets up and slipping in beside you without worrying about what parts of you are touching parts of him, nor the slip of your back where your shirt’s riding up, nor how warm it is under the quilt. He grabs the end of your t-shirt and pulls it flat over your stomach, before his hand spreads out there, and you realise half-heartedly that he’s hugging you from behind. The room is barely seeable. Remus is nearly sleeping. Your tea cake went uneaten, left stodgy and dark on the nightstand. 

“This okay?” Sirius asks. 

“Yeah.” 

He burrows nearer, rubbing his nose against the back of your neck, then taking a long breath of you. 

“Are you mad?” you ask. 

“Not anymore.” 

You can’t believe that any of them could love you so much as to look for you. That James would want to stay the night, and that he’d let you turn him away. If you had any energy left in you tonight you would’ve done the same to Remus, and then Sirius. James won’t be happy when he finds out they’d slept in the bed with you and left him out, but he’ll forgive it eventually. None of them should care so much about you, what’s special about you? What’s even really good? What’s worth it? 

Sirius breathes behind you. He doesn’t seem scared to touch you, not worried to lay as close to you as your bodies will allow. His heat sinks into you. 

“Know any poems?” he asks, letting you shift into his back as he pushes an arm beneath you, curling, really holding you to him, a spoon of a hug. 

“What kind did you want to hear?” 

Sirius doesn’t answer. You hold still as his hand begins looping over your stomach. 

“I can’t remember anything right.” 

“Can you guess at one for me?” he asks. 

You stare at Remus’ falling chest. You’re lucky to have good friends. 

“I read one a few days ago, a couple of times, it was only a few lines.” You wait. Sirius doesn’t say anything, so you start to relay the poem slowly, stringing the words together as they come. “The world was a… nautilus shell... And the world was a grain of sand.” Your voice is odd, but the lines come to you regardless. “The world was a honeycomb… And the world was a strip of tender bark.” 

Sirius lets his lips warm your neck, asking softly, more touch than sound, “That was the whole poem?” 

You take his hand where it’s against you. “That’s it.” 

He nods. 

The world was a nautilus shell. And the world was a grain of sand. The world was a honeycomb. And the world was a strip of tender bark. You run through the poem again, three times, tripping over strip and tender and bark as Sirius’ breath warms your nape. 

“Please don’t do that again,” he says. 

“I didn’t mean to–” You force yourself to stay still. “I would never do something like that to scare you.” 

“Nobody in this room or out of it believes that you went on your walk tonight to scare them.” His nose tips down your neck. His hand spreads wider over your stomach. It feels so weird, so warm and rigid. It’s the best touch you’ve ever been given, and it doesn’t matter because you’re so ashamed of yourself —you went on your stupid little walk with at least some bad intent, and your friends noticed because they love you when they shouldn’t bother. This is a stain now, something you’ll remember. “But I can’t take it. Do you get that? I can’t take it. James found you two hours ago and I still feel like I don’t know where you are.” 

“Didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, love.” He actually does kiss your neck then, quiet smack of a real kiss. “I know. I know.” His forehead presses to your shoulder as he settles in. “You’re okay. I’m not mad.” 

“Me neither,” Remus croaks. 

You let yourself relax enough to feel tired. Warmth from either side of you threatens to bowl you over. 

“How are you feeling now?” Sirius asks. 

“Fine.” Always fine. They deserve better honesty. “I didn’t want to hurt myself. Jus’… I needed to move, like, go, and I hate this part. I don’t think it should matter that I’m not– that I don’t feel well.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Sirius says quietly. 

“I’m not.” You sound tight. “When I want to be somewhere, it doesn’t make sense that it matters. In the moment, I don’t remember that you…” 

“Love you?” Sirius asks. 

“I know why you were worried, I promise. I don’t live in a bubble. I know I’m selfish.” 

“Not selfish.” 

“It was, though.” 

“You’re thinking about it like we have a problem with what you did, and it’s my fault because I got so mad, but it’s not really that you did it.” His hand curls shy of your breastbone. “I was mad, but– darling,” —you squeeze your eyes shut— “you’re not on trial. You don’t have to prove your way out of this, all we need to know is if you’re alright now.” 

“Not really.” 

Remus gives a half-sleeping mumble. 

Sirius sits up in bed to look at both of you. “We love you. We,” —he gestures between you and Remus emphatically— “aren’t going to stop. No matter how many walks you go on, how many scares you give me.” He frowns at you sympathetically. “We’re not getting any further, are we?” 

“Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry.” He grimaces, dark around the eyes. “I’m a right prick and I’ve made a right mess of everything.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, chancing a touch, terrified you’ll be reprimanded for it but knowing, as you know he loves you, that you’re allowed. The tips of your fingers touch his collarbone. Sharp thing. 

He pulls a jib, lips all up and thinned like a smirk gone wrong. “Love you.” 

You must’ve petrified him. He’s never so open with his feelings, even when it’s half-joking like this. 

“I love you, too.” 

He makes another face. Good enough, it says. 

“Make me hot chocolate?” you whisper. 

“Mm, come on.” He pulls you from the bed by your wrists. “Don’t complain when it’s gritty. I’m not skilled as Remus.” 

“Quite right,” Remus mumbles. 

You hug him quickly before you leave. 

[ghostgirl-22]

The threeway kissing scene except when artrick start kissing tashi slips away all smug like "my work here is done" and art just gets so into it hes not thinking about shame, being repressed or anything else rn, hes just whimpering "patrick... i cant stop" as theyre grabbing and rubbing against each other

"You dont need to" and they 👉👌

I could definitely see it! Tashi’s giving them the side eye cause she’s heard all kinds of things about fire and ice. But one of the things she kept hearing was how coupled up they were.

So when she asks if they’ve ever done anything and Arts denying it so vehemently and claiming that—- sure, Patrick gave him his first sexual experience but it was totally platonic and they were on separate sides of the room in separate beds both thinking about a girl “Kat Zimmerman,” one glance at Patrick’s face is enough for her to figure out what’s going on.

The way Patrick’s just stumbling behind the story trying to give Art the validation that he needs… maybe he even feels a little bit bad for telling her in the first place after Art begged him not to. Probably because it’s got Art all adorably flustered. She clocks them both immediately <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Canon drift

-/-/-/-

They’re both next to her in seconds when she sits on the bed. Art feels his world opening up when she kisses him first. He’s losing his mind at the feeling of her lips, her tongue. He grabs hold of her thighs a little nervous. She breaks the kiss. She’s got her face so close to his just breathing in his mouth. He loves the smell of her, the taste of her. He’d do anything to be with her.

She’s going back and forth between them. Art thinks he’s gonna die for how hot this is. They’re giggling between kisses. Nervous energy all around.

Then shes pulling them both in and it’s just a mess of tongues and mouths and spit and breathing. She tastes like cherry chapstick and Patrick like tobacco and together Art just wants more and more. He’s not sure when he realizes it.

That he’s just kissing Patrick.

It’s not like anything is changing. He still feels so good he wants to die. He’s chasing after the kiss, eager when he feels Patrick’s tongue. Patrick’s hand cradling his face, then his hair. He doesn’t want to stop. He’s grabbing at Patrick. Pulling him closer like they’re not already close enough. He can hear Tashi sigh but he still doesn’t know if he can stop… not until Patrick pulls back just a little bit.

Art follows him and steals another kiss. “Mm, holy shit,” Patrick’s grinning, teasing his fingers into Arts hair to steady his movements.

“You guys want it bad huh?” Tashi says, quietly, her eyes all sparkly. “Can’t even sleep in separate beds. You’re pushing them together and shit but you’re just roommates? I’m sure.”

Patrick is grinning like he knows something Art doesn’t know. Art tries to kiss her again but she presses her palm against his chest, holding him back. “Do that again.” She tells him, looking back and forth between him and Patrick.

“Patrick can I— can I please?” Art whispers. He’s all scrambled up, not sure why he can’t think. Nothing feels real right now. It’s like being high. Or being at Disneyland.

“Of course you can,” Patrick says softly. “What do you need?”

Art’s not sure what he needs he just knows he isn’t finished, he needs more. He grabs at Patrick’s shirt, the same shirt Art was wearing earlier and Patrick gets to his feet so he’s in front of Art, bent in half kissing him, then climbing on top of him, straddling him.

Arts grabbing at his thighs. Touching everything he can. Patrick’s bigger than him, feels so heavy and warm on his lap. Art jerks his hips up and Patrick sighs against his lips. Moans when Art starts rubbing him where he’s started tenting. He pulls Patrick down on top of him, like a heavy weighted blanket as he lays back in the bed.

Pushed together because Patrick needs to be close all the time. And then even closer than that.

Patrick’s body is covering him now. His stupidly big cock is pressing hard along his stomach. His mouth is all over Arts body.

“I wanna— wanna fuck you,” Art groans as Patrick sucks hickies into his throat.

“Yeah? Is that what you want, sunshine?” Patrick’s saying, hot breath ghosting along his neck, soft, deep voice resonating, making Art shiver.

“Yes,” Art moans, helplessly. He’s rutting his hips up, pressing himself along Patrick’s ass for friction.

He feels so out of it— so desperate.

“Fuck okay, you wanna fuck. Stay there. I need to find something.” Patrick says anxiously and Art groans when Patrick climbs off him and they’re forced to separate. He didn’t even realize Tashi left; he feels vaguely disappointed. Then Patrick comes back. Climbs on top and helps Art with the condom. It’s slippery wet with lube. Art’s holding onto Patrick… slipping it slowly in and two seconds later he’s doing it. Fucking into him, like Patrick’s a girl. A real tight virginal girl. Feels so fucking good on his cock. Art’s almost more desperate now.

Patrick’s breathing deep, moaning as he kisses Art all over.

Art is barely aware of anything but the continuous movement of Patrick on his cock and he finishes so embarrassingly quick he almost pulls the pillow over his face to hide himself. Now he’s actually grateful Tashi isn’t here anymore.

Surprisingly, Patrick doesn’t tease him. He’s just staring at Art and grabbing at his own oversized cock, jerking it slowly. Arts so mesmerized he can sense the distant thrum of arousal slowly beginning to bloom inside him again.

Patrick’s fingers are wet with lube, sliding up and down and up and down as precum leaks from the tip. The whole time he’s got his lips parted, saying nonsense things like, “you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” “Look at you,” “Better than a fucking dream.” His eyes never leave Art’s body.

And then suddenly he’s groaning as hot creamy liquid spurts all over Arts bare stomach and chest. Art kinda likes the feel of it, he hadn’t expected that it would feel so heated. Almost hot. And the way Patrick is panting like he couldn’t help himself, eyes still roving hungrily over Art. The idea that he needed to do that just because he was looking at Art. It all makes Art feel so good and warm.

They almost miss it. They’re lying in bed talking frenetically about how crazy the nights been. It’s like they’re drunk off of one beer split three ways. And then Art gets up to clean up a little bit and go pee when he spots her note.

I have to go back to my room but I didn't want to interrupt. Hope you boys have fun. See you tomorrow. ︎︎

Written on the little hotel notepad and signed T, with a heart.

And sure enough she’s in the stands at their match the next day just eager to hear more about what happened last night.

(And they never fight over her number and she never gets injured and she gets to be a star tennis player and has two boyfriends and her boyfriends are boyfriends and… and… and…they live happily ever after. The end.)

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

[morbethgames]

The Recoding of The Bureau is Finished

I’m done recoding the game. All in all, it was honestly about what I expected to be slimmed off once I got a good look at some of the scenes. As I expected, 90% of that were from the first 3 chapters. I am a mix of emotions after arduously spending hours upon hours replacing gender variables one at a time by hand. Which unfortunately, I couldn’t think of another way for doing it, because all of the characters were using the same gender variables instead of independent ones for each character.

I’m relieved it’s done. Disappointed in myself that I had to do it at all. Irritated that some people decided to put the game on blast for it rather than give actionable suggestions on how to fix it. Excited to finally be able to continue writing both the extra scenes that need to be written and the main story. I honestly don’t know which one I’m going to continue with first.

Please leave feedback.

There are still no doubt one or two spots with maybe 1-2k words each that could be slimmed down, but that would require a lot of work for very little payoff. So yes, I’m comfortable saying, the game is almost 400k words long in total. 85k words per playthrough. That’s not including the extra scenes in the stats screen, because randomtest doesn’t go in the stats screen (to my knowledge at least, someone can correct me if I’m wrong). So you still have to play the game roughly 5 times and choose different choices to see everything it has to offer.

Is the game smaller? A bit, yeah. Is it 100-150k? It’s more than double that.

Now, that doesn’t say anything for the state of some of the writing. If I have to read someone nodding, or smiling, or ‘slightly’, ‘a bit’, or ‘a little’ something in my own work again, I’m gonna jump out a window. Obviously, back when I started writing this, I was very much influenced by Wayhaven. I’ve since grown out of that idea. Since the game has taken on an identity of its own, and while I will forever be grateful to that series and continue to support it, there’s gonna be some changes in the final version of this game. Less of what I said above, less ellipses, and the flirting (especially in the beginning) will seem much more down to earth and believable for the setting it’s in, with a bit of wiggle room since this is still very much a YA game.

Please leave feedback.

The rewrite will not be happening until the first draft of the game is fully finished. I refuse to get stuck in a rewrite phase, mostly because I would just find it way too boring.

My patreon will continue to have static fiction on it, as well as sneak peeks into upcoming stuff. In case you’ve been missing it, Love In Stasis is up to Chapter 6 at this point, with more to come. I’m also thinking about potentially starting a horror static fiction.

I’ll be relying on people to playtest this new version of the game to tell me about any continuity errors, and gender errors, any anything errors. So please, play the demo. Let me know if you notice anything. I think if I’ve proved anything at this point, it’s that I act and fix things based on feedback.

And pettiness.

But mostly feedback.

Please leave feedback.

Last thing I’ll say; I’m gonna stop saying I’m bad at coding. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to implement the text boxes and fine tune them. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to code Golden Eyes. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to slim down the game that much from where it was. So it’s time I give myself the credit of someone who at least knows what they’re doing. I’m not adept at it, but I’m certainly not bad at it either.

I’m still expecting the game to end up over 500k words when all is said and done. It will not be one million words, but I’m actually kind of happy about that. This is proof I’m still working on this game, and the next time it updates, it will have new content. Thanks for those that are patient and stick around, your support does still genuinely mean a lot.

Please leave feedback.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

P.S. Please leave feedback.

🛡️Patreon | Forum Page | Demo Link🛡️

[l0v3r666]

Mc inserts x TWST characters

(basically non-yuu pairings I think about instead of my inbox :p)

Ignyhide vice!Mc x Jamil Viper

Mc is probably twisted from one of the little demon goons, and it makes your contrast with Jamil charmingly obvious. You’re both vices in the basketball club with an outside connection to your wardens (you figured a physical activity’ll ward Idia’s eye away) and you both hate your jobs to a comedic degree. The connection is actually really sweet and subtle!! Atleast until book 6 when Mc is complaining about their ego trippy boss while basically eating out of Jamil’s hand, feeding him information like the layout and hierarchy of styx,, as Idia’s super exclusive assistant it’s only fair to give your guests a full tour!

“geez! And he just gets so flippy-floppy, yknow? He’s got this thing about energy drinks now so I’ve been diluting them, it’s such a pain!”

“It might just be a defect with housewardens. Have you ever heard of the incompetency theory?”

Card soldier!Mc x Malleus Draconia

okay picture this- Mc is comepletely wasted and coming off the high from a holiday party that was totally killer. You wander into the woods past campus and find yourself at a little abandoned cottage, it’s like 100% cozy enough to chill in before stumbling back to the dorms. You continue heading there for pregames/drunken shenanigans, meeting up with some hot guy that hangs around sometimes. You’re fully blindsided when your “little buddy” is kicking heartslabyul ass during a spelldrive tourney..

“Yoooooo, Mally, you must be really fun at parties. Want ta’ go with me?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been invited to a “rager” before, but it sounds.. enjoyable. I accept.”

Ignyhide freshman!Mc x Deuce Spade

You’re a shaking mess during your first track meet. It’s a graduation requirement to take at least one gym class before the end of freshman year, and you’d rather die than take flight class with all those scary seniors!! Your vice had enough sense to convince you into not dropping out, he’d said that “track is low stress!” And “you’ll enjoy it” >:( you can’t believe he’d lie to your face like that!! (Is this the AI revolution??) You guess it’s not too bad though, you’ve even started strength training with a new friend. He’s a little short tempered, but it could be a lot worse.

“hey, I had no idea ignyhide kids were into track! I thought it’d be too much sun,,”

“We’re not vampires. I wouldn’t clown on you for the tea in your thermos, so lay off.. heh, there’s totally a dormouse in there.”

Scarabia housewarden!Mc x Leona Kingscholar

It’s pretty rare to see Leona of all people in your reserved pool chair, but plenty of weird stuff’s happened during your senior case study. You’re this close to getting your big shiny diploma- and a little rest now and then won’t hurt anybody! Savanaclaw’s housewarden has only had his position since last year, and you’ve held yours through all four. After knowing of each other for so long, it’s only logical that you’d become good friends! (Not that he calls you that)

“So you’re graduating, huh? Hope that brat you chose’ll fill your shoes, you’ve worked pretty hard.”

“awh, you’re such a sap,, I’m sure you’ll like Kalim, he’s no idiot. I promise to visit whenever you decide to graduate, but it’ll be a lot easier if i get that job in the castle!”

Octavinelle sophmore!Mc x Jack Howl

Poor Jack has to deal with everyone else’s business on top of his own education, when does he get a break? That ramshackle prefect’s looking for leads on how to beat those twins in the water, and only one face comes to mind. You’re his coworker at his temp job, and you owe him a favour (atleast from your perspective, he doesn’t hold it over your head) because with your grades Azul’s got it out for you. He’s begging for you to help him out- and who are you to deny those puppy eyes?

“Jack you can’t tell him! The housewarden’ll make me quit, I need this job! :(((“

“woah, it’s not like I’m gonna blackmail you.. what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Savanaclaw freshman!Mc x Epel Felmier

You’re lost, stressed and so confused in your first year :( it feels like everything is going wrong all the time!! It’s probably like 10x worse because you’re very tall and so built, but nobody cares to peer up at the cute giraffe ears on your head! You’ve been challenged by so. many. seniors. (and you win against all of them, you’re no pushover) but you’re tired of the beef. Epel just thinks you’re the coolest person in the room, and is always saying he wants to get freaky fridayed with you. But he doesn’t get the struggle!! Atleast Jack cares enough to tell him you’re just not liking it at school, and it makes Epel kick into action- he’s not letting you drop out, so please wait until he transfers!!

Pomefiore Junior!Mc x Rook Hunt

You’re convinced that Rook c. Hunt is the worst guy in all of twisted wonderland (C for creep)! And it SUCKS because he went from your rebellious savanaclaw boytoy to.. whatever he is. (How’d you miss the warning signs when you were tongueing him??) You can always see his stupid bob in your peripheral- but you’ve rationalized that if you watch him, then he only sees what you want him to see! It’s keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, just until graduation. And it does work, until you realize you’ve given Rook an inch that he’s turned into a mile. You’ll probably never get rid of him now, but what’s the point anymore?

“Ah, mon cher! You always enchant me with your passionate gaze, I’m honoured to be the object of your attention!”

“uh.. sure thing, hon. Whatever you say.”

Diasomnia Senior!Mc x Idia Shroud

You’re a highly educated noble from the mysterious land of Briar Valley. You are poised, weirdly formal, and utterly incompetent with your newest area of study- contemporary technology. You’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s pointless, they don’t even use it at home! But if you want to travel anytime before the collapse of human civilization, it must be done. you’re insatiable with your thirst for knowledge, and completely enamoured with having first hand experience with every era of mortal tech. It also happens to be almost impossible to revive your “Kno-Keya” once it has decided to die. That is where Idia Shroud comes in.

“In exchange for the revival of my electronic mailing device i am willing to offer an extensive dowry befitting of your station and technological necromancy skill. Will it suffice?”

“I literally only charged your phone, uh.. WOAH, A DOWRY?? I don’t have the space for five horses!! I’m totally not prepped for the marriage route, I haven’t the wiki yet!”

[occasionalsnippets]

hello author!

I’m a totally different, definitely not the anon who sent the previous post!

So…out of curiosity…if fd reader was filling in for robin ( I assume this is pre- red robin-or would reader act as a double for red as well?)

and they got sucked into another universe…

what kind of shenanigans would occur?

also while I am definitely not the previous anon, I’d like to mention that the fd series has a new film coming out next year it’s a little different!

A/n: sorry kinda messy because I got my wisdom teeth removed

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

---

Getting dropped through a portal and landing in the middle of a fight isn’t great. Fortunately, you're dressed for the occasion since you’re filling in as Robin. Unfortunately, your comms are dead. Fully dead. Dead enough that there isn't even a trace of static to be heard.

It could have been worse, you think as you help Nightwing (alternate universe? Probably alternate universe Nightwing, he doesn't seem to recognize you) clear out a group of goons. At least you're in Gotham and at least you didn't land directly in the path of the batmobile while someone was driving it or something.

Nightwing is wary of you and your supposed help, at least, until you get a moment a tell him the code for alternate universe situations because of course, there’s a code for everything.

(Code for time travel, code for alternate universes, code specifically for family, etc, etc. You leave all those codes up to Batman to decide.)

He doesn’t totally relax, obviously, but he’s willing to take down all the goons before focusing on you.

You're clearly bat-trained, have bat-gear and would look like a carbon copy of Robin if Tim was currently Robin and not Damian. It isn't difficult to believe you are a dimension traveller (you aren't the first and likely won't be the last either), especially with the obvious portal you hopped out of.

And well, things should be okay if you’ve got the family code tagged along with the standard code, right?

Either way, you and Nightwing end up going to the batcave. There’s some back and forth banter, you ask about who’s around and find out that it’s basically everyone you remember from the comics in their own role. Their universe is a bit ahead of yours it seems.

“D’s not allowed to be Robin until he’s more than 4 apples tall,” you tell Nightwing. By 4 apples tall, you mean 4 apples on the height chart you bought to mark Damian’s growth.

"4 apples tall," he mouths, delighted.

Dick had reacted the same way when you put the chart up. Damian had been livid.

The batcave is every bit as dark and cave-y as you remember it to be. Batman is there. So is Red Robin. And Spoiler. It's still early in the night so everyone else is probably still doing patrol.

Being interrogated (kind of) is interesting. It would be more effective if you hadn't seen similar songs and dances hundreds of times. Plus, Batman isn't being too harsh about it. It might be because you're Robin, because you're family.

The edges of your domino mask are peeling off. It always feels like you never put enough glue.

Well, you might as well reveal yourself. With the retrieval of the glue solvent, removal of the mask and a quick run of your hand through your hair, you could consider yourself off duty.

“Are you a girl???”

“Congrats on your top surgery.”

“Congrats on your bottom surgery.”

Hilarious. You laugh softly and ask, “Do you guys think I’m Tim?”

Something discordant ripples through everyone. You thought it was obvious you weren't Tim but well... You smile and hide your teeth.

"I'm (Y/n) Drake, nice to meet you."

You’re pretty sure that your universe will figure some way to get you back so you tell Batman that if you haven’t disappeared by the time 48 hours have passed, he should probably contact a magic user to get you back.

No one is going to bed apparently. It’s Sunday tomorrow. They’re not technically the family you know so you don’t say anything about pulling an all nighter.

There are some fascinating follow-up one-on-one conversations afterwards once they get past the "Tim's older sibling who doesn't exist".

Dick mentions it’s a bit odd to see you as Robin. You’re technically the oldest person to have ever been Robin as everyone grew out of it (died in it, got fired, etc) and got their own costume before they hit 18.

You point out it's not really your costume and that you only really fill in when you have to. He tells you you're still part of the legacy. You're still Robin. You... don't really know what to say to that.

When he asks you how you got involved, you shrug and say you just followed Tim. "He's my brother. What was I supposed to do? Leave him?"

Anyways, interesting conversations between two people who have been eldest daughter syndrome-d. Maybe things are better in your universe where you're there to ease the emotional load of the family but it shouldn't have been your responsibility. It shouldn't have been Dick's either.

You end up telling Jason that the Joker is dead in your universe. More specifically, that he "had gone missing a bit after Red Hood arrived in Gotham". You don't say exactly how it happened but he can probably infer that you had something to do with it.

The two of you probably bond a bit over your paper thin morals. After all, when you aren't playing at being Robin, you don't have to follow Bruce's moral code either.

Bruce is okay. The one here isn't horrendously terrible or anything but there were probably more bumps along the way. You straight up tell him to start seeing a therapist. His nest of birdies are his children first before they are his vigilante partners. He should make that clear before he makes another blunder, fails to apologize, and has to try to mend his relationships again.

He asks if you’re one of his children. You laugh until your ribs hurt.

Damian asks why you (and your Tim) are still Robin. You’re reasonably confused. Dick had informed him that your Damian is with the Waynes already yet has not been made Robin.

You aren’t exactly aware of how this Damian (or comic Damian for that matter) became Robin but you just tell him, “There’s no rush to pass on the mantle. Besides, we’re a couple years behind you guys.”

"You coddle him." "He's literally like, 9."

He'll figure it out someday once he gets past the being raising in an assassin cult thing. You ask what pets he has to derail him.

Things are easier with Cass, as they always have been. She takes one look at you and definitively declares "Family". You smile, ruffle her hair, the same as you would with your Cass, and she drags you away to talk to Steph.

Steph cracks a joke about your presence evening out the gender ratio in the household. She's also on the phone with Barbara so you say a quick hi before being swept into the next conversation.

You and Tim. Tim and you.

It’s been years since Jack and Janet Drake have died. Years upon years since Tim was a little boy waiting by the phone for his parents to call and tell him they’re coming home. He thinks some part of him still longs for them, despite it all.

And now, there is you. His sibling who never existed.

You remind him of his mother, of Janet. You’re as sharp as he remembers her being but you’re so terribly warm and patient and casually affectionate in ways he still isn't used to. Perhaps you're how Janet would've been like if she had loved him more.

You and Tim probably have the most to talk about out of everyone, especially about the early days from before he became Robin. Throughout it, he finds out just how much you've involved yourself in the other Tim's life. There's something sad in your expression when the two of you talk.

He hasn't needed someone to protect or raise him for a very long time but still, it must have been nice to have you, to have someone to trust and love him unconditionally.

For what it's worth, you tell him you're proud of him. Even if you don't exist in this universe, he's still your itty bitty tiny little brother.

Something bubbles in his chest. He thinks it might just be jealousy for the version of him that has your unconditional love. The version that has everything that you could give him.

Alfred brings down food for you to eat. Despite the fact that you don't belong, he insists on calling you "Master (Y/n)". Some things never change you suppose.

Everyone notes that it's very very strange to see you be so familiar with everyone when none of them know you. It's like they're all stumbling over a step in their life, fumbling in their interactions with you, uncertain about what to do.

Duke wanders into the Batcave in the morning and finds you at the batcomputer, still wearing your Robin costume. You get one look at him and go, "Ah they didn't tell you about me did they."

You give him a quick rundown ("I'm from an alternate universe, yeah I showed up last night, I'm Tim's older sibling, I'm only a placeholder Robin, no I don't really know you but I think I've seen you around in my universe before") before he leaves for day-patrol.

He's cool. You'll keep an eye out for him when you get back.

True to your expectation, less than a day after your arrival, a portal opens up beside you. Everyone's in the batcave and are able to see you off as Tim (your Tim) reaches out to bring you home.

You're wrapped up in hugs immediately upon return. So clingy, you think as you say, "I'm home."

Tim, who's buried by your side, mumbles, "Welcome home."

As for you filling in as Red Robin later on, it might be better to discuss it chronologically with Batman getting lost in the timestream and the no good very bad follow up conversation about who should wear the cowl that somehow ends up with you filling in as Nightwing.

[jesterday00]

I mentioned in my Layton Brothers Ask answers that Theo learned what the Look™️ was when Hershel would get angry. I figured I should illustrate a rough idea of what that means, and provide some mild explanation. This is less out of necessity and more because I wanted to lol

Classic Hershel, kind soul. Beloved boy of Stansbury, would paint your fence and water your gardens with the slightest invitation.

Scary Hershel (aka Descole, named shortly before the events of Last Specter), terror of Stansbury. Would get into seemingly unprompted fistfights that more often than not resulted in his victory.

Hershel doesn’t even notice as a teen, but after a coworker at the yard mentioned his Scary Face™️ he found a way to see it himself. It’s one thing to be considered frightening when you’re angry, but it’s another to actually freak yourself out a little when you first notice the change. Eventually, he gets it rebranded to his “Determined” expression lol

Theo only notices after he watches a fight that Hershel is involved with. Hershel does NOT make this face when he’s around Theo, mainly because they don’t argue hard enough for it to escalate that far.

I tried my hand at animating the transition, because it doesn’t take much for Descole to take the lead :3 I’m still a bit shaky at animation (this is really only 5 total frames long) but AUGH I like it

[loopyn3]

Great God Grove spoilers/character discussion ahead!

And some spoiler-y doodles

About Hector because of course it’s about him.

His entire arc is just so melancholic and tragic,

If I may, I’ve been taking a sort of deeper look into his mental goop so-to-speak, and I feel like his jealousy/anger surrounding King can be read in a lot of different contexts. It almost seems like it didn’t stop at simply King being the hot new thing and him being nervous he’d lose his place, but more so the idea that King didn’t have to change all that much about herself to be as deified as she seems. From what we know she’s very confident with herself, her God form even being pretty faithful to how she looks as a human(mentioned in the art book which you should totally go buy, it’s so lovely seeing all the concept art and the commentary is such a treat :]).

Meanwhile it’s kind of implied that Hector really had to claw his way up the spire, working tirelessly to help people, yes, but also to earn his place amongst the gods. He’s stressed out of his mind, he’s always working- I really can’t imagine he was all that stable to begin with in terms of self-identity/worth.

Plus, most if not all his relationships seem to be tied to this one purpose. I can’t imagine the thought of “if I fail I won’t have anything or anybody to go back to.” hasn’t crossed his mind AT LEAST once.

I reblogged a post showing screenshots of Robart and Peeps talking about how, as a human, he tended to act concerningly selflessly, almost seeming desperate. That really doesn’t come across as a normal reaction to just wanting to do good by people, at least not in a ‘normal’ capacity.

Hector, to me at least, comes across as a very self-critical guy. He’s always striving to do good by others… but also to be praised and adored by them. I can only imagine after so many years of toiling away, feeling that pressure building more and more to do well, spending years of his life hoping that he’ll be voted in that he’s sort of lost a piece of himself to this whole process? Something something ship of Theseus.

There’s this thing that happens when a project consumes your life, when it almost seems like your entire life’s purpose is built around this one thing that, once it’s done, it really doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything. What’s left is this sort of numb emptiness, the absence of said purpose.

What are you supposed to do, then? Now that it’s over? Is there anything left for you to do?

Did you even have a purpose in the first place?

So you desperately grasp for new projects, trying to find anything to fill that ever present void that just seems to never go away no matter how many sleepless nights you spend working and working and working-

Or maybe I’m reading too deep into it teehee

Point is, Hector is just so important he is my reason to wake up in the morning he means so much to me asjfkkfksfc ;;;;;

[missrosiesworld]

Heartstrings and Wagging Tails

Adorable headcanons for Seth Lowell's crush moments 😍 I decided to write my crush headcanons more narratively, so you guys can feel more immersed in the characters' emotions and experiences, making every scenario relatable and heartfelt. I'll keep writing headcanons this way if you guys like it, and I'll revise my previous ones to match it. 😊

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

1. Awkward yet Adorable: Seth becomes a bundle of nerves around his crush. His normally calm demeanor turns into shy, flustered gestures. His tail wags uncontrollably whenever they’re near, and his ears often twitch at the sound of their voice. He stumbles over his words and laughs nervously, but his sincerity shines through.

“Oh, uh, hi!” Seth stammered, his words coming out in a rushed jumble. “I didn’t—didn’t see you there. Not that I was looking for you or anything! I mean—uh—how’s it going?” He gave a nervous laugh, his hand darting to the back of his neck as his ears twitched furiously.

His crush raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of their lips. “It’s going fine, Seth,” they said with a soft chuckle. “You okay? You seem... jittery.”

Seth’s ears flattened slightly, and his tail slowed, though it still swayed nervously behind him. “Jittery? Me? No way,” he said, his voice a touch higher than usual. His hand remained on the back of his neck, rubbing at it awkwardly as if the motion would ground him. “I’m totally... fine.”

“If you say so, Seth,” they replied with an amused smile, leaving Seth to fumble for anything else to say as butterflies in his stomach flew.

2. Small Acts of Kindness: Seth expresses his feelings through actions rather than words. He’ll bring them their favorite drink or snack from the cafe, offer to carry their things, or go out of his way to help with tasks, no matter how small. His crush may not even realize the effort behind these gestures, but Seth is secretly proud every time he makes their day a little easier.

Seth walked into the office break room, his tail swishing nervously behind him as he clutched a freshly brewed cup of coffee. The aroma of rich, roasted beans wafted from the cup, mingling with the scent of his nervous energy. He had spent the last ten minutes trying to pick the perfect blend, remembering how his crush always talked about their favorite flavor with a small smile that he couldn’t forget.

He spotted them sitting at their desk, their brow furrowed in concentration as they typed away, completely unaware of his presence. Taking a steadying breath, Seth approached, his ears twitching slightly. “Hey,” he began, his voice a little hesitant as he stopped just a few feet from them. His fingers tightened slightly around the cup as his crush looked up at him, their expression softening into a warm smile.

“I noticed you were out of coffee earlier,” Seth continued, holding out the cup toward them, his tail wagging slightly despite his best efforts to control it. “So, I grabbed this for you on my break.”

Their eyes widened slightly in surprise as they reached out to take the cup, their fingers brushing his for just a moment. “Oh, wow, thank you!” they said, the warmth in their voice making Seth’s ears twitch again. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Seth felt his cheeks warm as he smiled shyly, his gaze darting briefly to the side before returning to theirs. “It’s no big deal,” he replied, his voice soft but sincere. “I just thought… you’d like it.”

They looked at him for a moment, their smile growing as they brought the cup closer. “You’re really thoughtful, Seth,” they said, their tone filled with gratitude. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Hearing their words, Seth’s heart swelled with pride, and his tail wagged just a little faster. He gave a small, nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m glad you like it,” he murmured, his smile lingering long after returning to his desk, secretly thrilled that his small act of kindness had made their day a little better.

3. Stealing Glances: Seth can’t help but sneak glances at his crush when they’re not looking. He admires the way they move, their smile, and how they speak. If caught staring, he’ll quickly look away, his cheeks turning bright red as he pretends to focus on something else.

Seth couldn’t help himself. Every time his crush was nearby, his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, drifting toward them like magnets. He admired how they moved, how effortlessly they seemed to brighten the room, and how their smile seemed to light up everything around them.

Caught up in the sound of their voice as they spoke to a coworker, Seth rested his chin in his hand, his gaze softening without him even realizing it. He wasn’t just looking—he was completely captivated.

That’s when they turned suddenly, catching him mid-stare. Their lips curved into a teasing grin, and they raised an eyebrow. “You know, Seth,” they said playfully, their voice laced with amusement, “if you keep staring, I might start charging you.”

Seth jolted upright, his ears flattening against his head as panic set in. “I-I wasn’t staring!” he blurted out, his tail twitching behind him as he waved his hands defensively. “I mean, I wasn’t staring in a weird way! I—um—” His words faltered, his cheeks burning a bright red as he scrambled to recover.

They burst into laughter, their tone warm and kind rather than mocking. “Relax, Seth,” they said between chuckles. “I’m just messing with you.”

Hearing their reassurance, Seth let out a shaky laugh of his own, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oh… right,” he mumbled, his voice sheepish. “I knew that.” But his flushed cheeks and twitching tail betrayed him entirely.

4. Overthinking Everything: Seth constantly worries about saying or doing the wrong thing. He rehearses conversations in his head but usually forgets everything the moment his crush speaks to him.

Seth stood in front of his bathroom mirror, his tail twitching nervously as he stared at his reflection. His ears flicked slightly as he practiced his lines for the umpteenth time, determined to get it right. “Okay, Seth,” he muttered, pointing at himself in the mirror for emphasis. “It’s simple. Just tell them you like their outfit. That’s all. Easy, right?” He straightened his posture and tried again, his tone overly rehearsed. “‘Hey, you look great today!’ See? Simple. You’ve got this.”

Taking a deep breath, he smoothed his tail and made his way outside, his tail swishing behind him with anticipation and nervous energy. As he walked his usual route, his ears perked up, catching the familiar sound of their voice. His crush was heading toward him, their smile bright and inviting as they waved. Seth’s heart skipped a beat, and all the confidence he’d tried to muster suddenly evaporated.

“Morning, Seth! How are you?” they greeted, their voice warm and cheerful as they stopped in front of him.

Seth froze, his tail wagging anxiously as his rehearsed lines scattered from his mind like leaves in the wind. “Uh, your shoes!” he blurted out, his voice higher-pitched than he intended. His ears flattened in panic as he realized what he’d just said. “I mean, your shoes look great today! Wait, no—your outfit!” His hands waved frantically as he tried to recover, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “I mean, everything looks great—uh—on you—oh no…”

His crush blinked for a moment before letting out a soft, amused laugh, their smile kind and genuine. “Thanks, Seth,” they said, their voice warm enough to ease some of his embarrassment. “You’re sweet.”

Seth stood there, his tail now still as he stared at them, his ears twitching slightly. “I... uh, yeah. Anytime,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. As they continued on their way, he buried his face in his hands, groaning softly to himself. “Smooth, Seth. Real smooth.”

5. Protective Streak: While Seth is shy around his crush, he’s fiercely protective if they’re in danger or even slightly uncomfortable. His usual nerves disappear as he steps up, ensuring they’re safe and happy.

Seth’s ears twitched as he noticed the subtle shift in his crush’s demeanor. Their posture stiffened slightly, their steps faltering as a stranger stepped a little too close, their tone sharp and invasive. Seth’s usual nervousness vanished in an instant, replaced by a firm resolve. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, placing himself squarely between his crush and the potential threat.

“Hey,” Seth said, his voice steady, a surprising firmness underlying his usual soft-spoken tone. His tail, usually wagging or swaying nervously, now stood still as his striking eyes—a mesmerizing gradient from purple to blue—fixed firmly on the stranger. “Is there a problem here?” His ears tilted forward, his protective instincts fully engaged. “Because I’m not going to let anything happen to them.”

The stranger hesitated, clearly caught off guard by Seth’s sudden confidence. They scoffed, crossing their arms in a show of bravado. “What’s it to you, huh? I was just talking to them.”

Seth’s gaze didn’t waver, his gradient eyes glinting with calm determination and an unspoken warning. “Yeah? Well, they don’t seem interested in talking to you. So, maybe you should move along.” His tone remained calm, but an edge to his words made it clear he wasn’t going to back down.

The stranger grumbled something under their breath before stepping back, muttering, “Whatever, man. Not worth the trouble.” They turned and walked away, leaving Seth standing firm.

As the tension dissolved, Seth’s tail resumed its usual swaying, and the adrenaline coursing through him began to fade. He turned back to his crush, his ears lowering slightly as his protective demeanor softened into something gentler. His gradient eyes, now filled with warmth, locked onto theirs. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice returning to its usual nervous warmth.

His crush nodded, their expression softening into one of pure gratitude. “Thank you, Seth,” they said earnestly, their voice carrying a warmth that sent a new wave of butterflies through him. “I really appreciate it.”

Seth’s cheeks turned pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck, his earlier confidence giving way to his typical bashfulness. “It’s nothing, really. I just... couldn’t stand the thought of you being uncomfortable.”

Their smile widened, and they reached out, touching his arm lightly. “It wasn’t nothing, Seth. It meant a lot. Thank you.”

Seth’s tail wagged a little faster, and he ducked his head, a small, shy smile creeping onto his face. His gradient eyes, now soft and glowing, flickered up to meet theirs. “Anytime,” he murmured. “I’ll always look out for you.”

6. Subtle Compliments: Seth tries to sneak compliments into conversations, his voice softer than usual and his eyes full of admiration. He’s always genuine, even if his delivery is awkward.

The soft hum of conversation filled the room as Seth sat across from his crush, his tail twitching nervously under the table. He’d been silently working up the courage to say something, anything, to let them know just how much they meant to him. His ears twitched as he finally caught their gaze, his heart skipping a beat.

"You, uh, you really know how to brighten a room, you know?" he stammered, his voice softer than usual, the words tumbling out before he could overthink them. His hands fidgeted slightly on the table, and he quickly clasped them together to keep them still. "It’s... kind of amazing."

His crush blinked, their expression melting into a warm smile. "Thanks, Seth," they replied, their voice light and genuine. "That means a lot."

The sincerity in their tone made Seth’s ears flatten slightly, his face growing warm as a blush spread across his cheeks. He tried to look away, but their smile kept pulling his gaze back. "I mean it," he said, fumbling slightly with his words but pushing through. "You’re... you’re really something special."

Their smile grew even wider, and they leaned slightly forward, their eyes sparkling with amusement and appreciation. "You’re pretty special yourself, Seth," they said softly. 

Seth’s tail swished behind him, his heart thundering in his chest at their words. He ducked his head slightly, a shy grin spreading across his face as he whispered, "Thanks... I guess we’re both lucky then."

7. Dreaming of Confession: Seth often finds himself daydreaming about the perfect way to confess his feelings, picturing scenarios where everything goes smoothly. However, in reality, his confession is likely to be shy, heartfelt, and full of stammers—but completely genuine.

Seth had spent countless nights rehearsing this moment in his head, imagining every detail. He pictured himself calm, collected, standing confidently as he delivered the words that had been burning inside him for so long. In his daydreams, his crush would smile warmly, their eyes lighting up as they accepted his feelings with grace and maybe even excitement. It was perfect—every time he ran through it in his mind.

But now that the moment had come, Seth felt anything but confident. His palms were clammy, and his tail swayed nervously behind him, betraying his attempts to stay composed. He took a shaky breath, standing just close enough to his crush to feel the faint warmth of their presence. His ears twitched as he finally mustered the courage to speak.

“I—I just wanted to say that I think…” He faltered, his voice catching as his nerves threatened to consume him. He glanced down at the ground, taking another deep breath before meeting their eyes again. “I think you’re amazing. And, uh, I really like spending time with you. Like, a lot.”

His crush tilted their head slightly, their expression soft and attentive, encouraging him to continue.

“So, um, maybe we could… go out sometime?” The words tumbled out in a rush, and Seth immediately felt his cheeks flush a deep red. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, his ears flattening slightly as he braced himself for their response.

To his astonishment, his crush’s lips curled into a warm smile, their eyes shimmering with kindness. “I’d like that, Seth,” they said, their voice steady and sincere.

Seth’s heart nearly stopped. “Y-you would?” he stammered, his tail wagging furiously now. “Really?”

His crush laughed softly, their smile growing wider. “Yes, really,” they replied, their voice warm and full of sincerity. “I’ve been hoping you’d ask me.”

Seth blinked, feeling a rush of warmth spread through him at their words. He fumbled for something else to say, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of disbelief and joy. “I mean it,” he managed, his voice quieter now but no less genuine. “You’re… you’re really something special.”

His crush’s gaze softened even further, and they reached out to gently touch his arm. “And so are you,” they replied warmly. 

In that moment, Seth felt like he was floating, the weight of his nerves finally lifting. This was even better than any of his daydreams. It was real.

8. Clumsy Around Them: Seth, usually competent and steady, becomes noticeably clumsy when his crush is around. He’ll trip over his words—or even his feet—whenever they catch him off guard. His ears flatten in embarrassment, but it only makes him more endearing.

Seth walked into the cozy cafe, his ears already twitching as he spotted his crush seated near the corner. They were casually sipping their drink, completely at ease, and the sight of their warm smile when they noticed him sent a jolt through his chest. He lifted a hand in a little wave, trying to act cool, but his tail wagged uncontrollably behind him, betraying his excitement.

“Hey, Seth!” his crush greeted cheerfully. “Over here.”

Seth smiled nervously and started toward the table, weaving between chairs and patrons with his usual focus. But as he approached, his shoe caught the edge of a chair leg, sending him stumbling forward. His hands flailed instinctively as he tried to steady himself, and for a horrifying moment, he realized he was about to knock over their coffee table.

With a last-ditch effort, Seth caught himself on the edge of the table, managing to stop the inevitable disaster. He stood frozen for a second, his ears flattened, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I—I’m fine!” he blurted, straightening up and waving his hands as if to dismiss the near-miss. “Just, uh... testing my reflexes. Totally meant to do that.”

His crush burst into laughter, the sound light and warm. “Careful, Seth! You almost took the whole table with you,” they teased, their eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seth’s ears turned an even deeper shade of red as he rubbed the back of his neck, his tail curling slightly behind him in mortification. “I—I wasn’t gonna! I had it under control the whole time,” he stammered, though his sheepish grin said otherwise.

His crush leaned back in their chair, still smiling fondly. “Right… sure you did,” they said, their tone playful but kind. They reached out and patted the table as if to reassure it. “Well, at least you saved the coffee. That’s the important part.”

Seth let out a small laugh, finally relaxing a little. “Yeah, no spilled coffee here,” he said, trying to match their lighthearted tone. But as he sat down across from them, his mind was already racing, determined not to let his clumsiness get the better of him again—at least not too soon.

9. Quiet Admiration: When his crush talks about their passions, Seth listens intently, his tail stilling as he absorbs every word. His eyes light up at their enthusiasm, and he quietly commits every detail to memory, just so he can bring it up later to surprise them.

Seth sat across from his crush at a small cafe, his elbows resting on the table and his tail unusually still, a rarity when he was this close to them. They were animatedly talking about something they loved, their voice lighting up with excitement as they spoke. Seth couldn’t take his eyes off them, his ears twitching slightly as he absorbed every word.

"I’ve always wanted to visit that little bakery downtown," they said, their eyes shining with enthusiasm. "They have the best croissants, apparently. I’ve been dying to try them!"

Seth’s ears perked up at the mention of the bakery, his mind already picturing the quaint little shop. He nodded earnestly, leaning forward slightly, the intensity of his focus making his tail still further. "Really?" he asked, his voice steady but soft, trying to match their energy without betraying how nervous he felt. "That sounds great. We could... I mean, if you want, I could go with you sometime? You know, to check it out together."

Their grin widened, and the way their eyes sparkled made Seth’s heart skip a beat. "That sounds like fun. Let’s do it," they said, their voice brimming with excitement.

Seth felt warmth bloom in his chest, his tail giving a hesitant wag as a shy smile spread across his face. "Yeah? Okay, great," he said, his voice a little more confident now. "Just let me know when, and I’ll make sure I’m free."

As they continued chatting, Seth silently vowed to look up the bakery’s best offerings and plan the perfect outing to make it a memorable experience for them both.

10. Overly Concerned for Their Well-Being: Seth can’t help but fuss over his crush, worrying about even the smallest things. Did they eat? Are they tired? Did they bring an umbrella? His concern is always genuine, and he’s quick to offer help or comfort, even for minor inconveniences.

The rain was coming down steadily, a cold drizzle that clung to everything it touched and cast a silvery sheen across the pavement. Seth’s wipers moved rhythmically across his patrol car’s windshield, their steady beat the only sound besides the rain tapping against the glass. The streets were nearly deserted, the air carrying the distinct chill of damp weather that seeped into the bones. 

As he turned a corner, his ears twitched, catching sight of a figure up ahead. His breath hitched as he recognized them—his crush, walking briskly down the sidewalk. Their head was bowed against the rain, their arms wrapped tightly around themselves in a futile attempt to ward off the cold. Droplets clung to their hair, and their shoulders hunched as they tried to avoid the relentless downpour.

Seth’s heart clenched painfully at the sight. They looked utterly miserable, their soaked clothes clinging to their frame and their steps hurried but unsure on the slippery pavement. Without a second thought, he pulled his car to the curb, the tires splashing through a shallow puddle. Grabbing the umbrella from the passenger seat, he leapt out, the drizzle immediately beginning to soak into his uniform, though he barely noticed.

“Hey!” he called out, his voice carrying over the rain as he jogged toward them. The umbrella in his hand shielded him from the worst of the downpour, but his concern wasn’t for himself. 

His crush turned at the sound of his voice, their expression shifting from surprise to relief as they recognized him. “Seth?” they asked, their voice soft but filled with a hint of disbelief.

“What are you doing walking out here in this weather?” he asked, his tone laced with worry as he stepped closer, angling the umbrella to cover them both. Droplets rolled off the fabric, pattering onto the ground. “You’re soaked!” 

They shrugged sheepishly, their damp clothes clinging to them as they shivered. “I was just trying to get home,” they explained, their voice a little shaky. “I didn’t think it would rain this much.”

Seth frowned, his tail flicking sharply behind him in agitation. The sight of them shivering under the relentless rain stirred something protective in him. “Come on,” he said firmly, his voice gentle but insistent. “Let me get you out of this rain. My car’s right here.”

Without waiting for an answer, he gently guided them toward his patrol car, one hand holding the umbrella steady while the other lightly rested on their back. The warmth of his touch, even through the chill of their wet clothes, was enough to coax them into following.

When they reached the passenger side, Seth opened the door for them, his movements quick but careful. “Here, sit down. I’ll turn up the heat.” He waited until they were settled inside before closing the door gently. Water dripped from his uniform as he jogged around to the driver’s side, shaking droplets from his hair before climbing in.

As soon as he was seated, he cranked up the heater, filling the car with a comforting warmth. The windows fogged slightly as the temperature shifted. He reached into the backseat, rummaging through the items he kept there until his hand landed on a towel. Pulling it free, he turned back to them, his expression earnest.

“Here,” he said, holding the towel out. “Let me help.”

Before they could protest, Seth leaned over slightly and began patting their hair dry with gentle, careful motions. His touch was warm and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world to make sure they were comfortable. 

“Seth, you don’t have to—” they started, their voice soft, but he interrupted before they could finish.

“I want to,” he said, his ears flicking nervously as he continued. His voice was quiet but insistent, the sincerity in his tone undeniable. “You’re cold and soaked. Just let me help, okay?”

They fell silent, their cheeks warming as they smiled at him, gratitude deeper than words shining in their eyes. “Thank you,” they said quietly, their voice filled with genuine emotion.

Seth’s cheeks flushed faintly at their response, but he didn’t stop, his tail swishing gently behind him. “It’s no big deal,” he murmured shyly, his voice soft as his hands worked to dry their hair. “I just... didn’t want you catching a cold or anything.”

His crush chuckled softly, the sound light and warm, and their smile grew as they watched him. For a moment, the cold rain outside was forgotten, replaced by the comforting warmth of the car, the gentle hum of the heater, and Seth’s tender care.

[wickedsmille]

batman, robin, sentient super suits, oh my! part 3

Ta~ da~! Part 3 and done. (Here's Part 1 and Part 2, if ya want.) It didn't go exactly as I wanted but when I went back to rewrite part of it I couldn't make myself do it so. Welp, it is what it is. But, here we go -

---------

A little while later, Tim yelps from his side of the bed. Jason’s head whips around to see what the commotion is, bumping shoulders with Tim who has also hastily sat up.

Craning his neck, Jason looks down over the side of the bed to where Tim is staring, dumbfounded. All he sees is Tim’s bag, open with the Red Robin costume on top. Sort of strange since leaving their gear out in the open isn’t exactly Bat-protocol. No telling when a nosy or distracted maid might barge in. Otherwise, nothing is amiss. Color Jason confused.

“What the fuck,” Tim breathes as he scoots further back till he’s half in Jason’s lap which, awesome, but weird.

“What?” Jason snaps. 

Over the side of the bed, the sleeve of the Red Robin suit snakes up and slaps down hard on Tim’s wrist near the edge of the bed. He makes a high noise of surprise then he’s fully in Jason’s lap. Still awesome, very much so, but bigger fish to fry and everything. Such as the irrefutable proof that Red Robin has gained the nebulous honor of having a mind of its own. And it’s apparently not very happy with Tim if the way it snaps out to hit him again is any indication. This time, Tim pulls his hand back before he can get slapped.

“How-” Tim chokes out, whipping his head around to stare at Jason.

Their faces are so damned close Jason can feel the too fast puffs of Tim’s breath against his cheek. It’s doing him absolutely no favors in staying focused on the issue at hand. 

Tim’s eyes narrow. “Did you do something to it?”

“Me? That thing was totally normal until you got a hold of it. What did you do to it?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Un-fucking-likely!”

A pitter patter of sound draws both of them away from the edge of their budding argument. Back at the side of the bed, the Red Robin suit is padding its sleeves against the blanket to draw their attention. Guess it didn’t like where their conversation was headed. 

“Oh yeah, that thing is totally alive,” Jason says. 

“No” Tim drawls sarcastically. He frowns at the suit. A flash of understanding brightens his face as his mouth drops open. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

“Mind cluing in us pea brained peons?”

Without looking, Tim hits Jason in the chest with the back of his hand. “All the malfunctions!”

Tim doesn’t need to say anything else for Jason to pick up what he’s laying down. The events of the past few weeks make a lot more sense now. Including their current predicament which has led to a lap full of dressed down, sleep warm Tim. Touche, Red Robin, well done. He has to hand it to the suit. Red Hood is all overt action with very little subtly but Red Robin had completely flown under his radar. Even yelling at it earlier was based more on a vague hunch.

“I’m glad I hollered at it earlier then.”

Tim’s eyes snap back to him, incredulous and amused. “You were talking to an inanimate object?”

“First of all, it isn’t inanimate any more. Second, don’t act like you’ve never talked at something before.”

Tellingly, Tim stays silent. 

“Look at it this way, you’ve been chosen,” Jason says with a shrug. “Better than, I guess, since you brought the fuckin’ thing to life.”

Tim does this odd thing where he goes boneless. As in he falls limp against Jason’s chest with his head resting on Jason’s shoulder. For a second, he’s worried something is wrong. Tim wouldn’t be Tim if he weren’t wound tighter than a spring. He’s the most neurotic sonuvabitch Jason knows. To have him so soft and pliant? It’s kind of throwing him for a loop.

Looking down at Tim’s face, Jason’s worries bleed away. The content, gentle happiness he finds there, only a thin thread of bitter sadness belying it, tells Jason all he needs to know. Once more, because he’s just that good, Jason has stuck his foot in his mouth. Except in a good way this time. 

Thinking back, Tim told him what it was like when he was first Robin. It sure as hell hadn’t felt good when Robin didn’t want anything to do with him. He can’t imagine what it was like for Tim to have to actively fight against the suit. To push and push and push till he was finally, reluctantly accepted. Only to be dropped and have nothing waiting for him, ready for him. The lonely ache of wondering if he’s good enough and that’s why a suit doesn’t come for him. Needing to push past all that, piled on top of the long hours and endless horrors the nightlife brings, and keep on keepin’ on. 

But Jason has pointed out the obvious which he doesn’t doubt Tim completely overlooked. In agreement, Red Robin raises its sleeve and points at Jason.

“Oh,” Tim breathes. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Me neither. Way to make history.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “But I don’t get it. Why do all of this?”

Once more, Red Robin pointedly gestures towards Jason. He glares at the damn thing because if anyone needs to shut up, it’s Red Robin. Given the genuine curiosity and bafflement in Tim’s voice, Jason’s pretty sure he’s not being purposefully obtuse. Granted, Tim can lie with the best of them, the little scamp. Jason has been meaning to get a few lessons. His gut is telling him this isn’t one of those times. Tim really doesn’t get it and Jason would like it to stay that way until he can either nut up and confess or brutally murder the impulse to fuck him raw at the first opportunity.

“No idea,” Jason replies lightly.

On his side of the bed, Jason’s bag wiggles violently. He groans and clenches his jaw, unwilling to let Red Hood enter the chat. This is a recipe for disaster. Adding in his suit won’t help him in keeping his inconvenient crush under wraps. For all he knows, Red Robin and Red Hood have been colluding together to make this shit happen. 

“What,” Tim starts before trailing off. 

The stare he pins Jason down with is so intense and invasive Jason feels like he needs to shove Tim off and disappear for a few months. It’s something akin to being flayed alive. His eyes skitter across Jason’s face, breaking him down bit by bit without needing to say a word or lift a finger. Really, Jason should get Tim away from him before he peels away the last layers keeping Jason from being truly perceived. 

Lightning quick and catching Jason unaware, Tim lunges across him to drape himself over Jason’s side of the bed. With deft fingers, he yanks open Jason’s bag. There the Red Hood is in all its glory, helmet on top of a bundle of heavy padding and armor. The lights on the eyes flash and Tim blinks down at it. 

“Hey, now!” Jason chides, dipping down so he can shut the bag before the shit show starts.

He doesn’t get that far before he’s getting full-on backhanded by the sleeve of his own suit. Wow, the suits are being aggressive. He’s not even sure what to do so he tenses up and stares at the wall. There’s enough semtex in the bag to blow it all to hell, right? He could totally ask Alfred to call up Lucius for a new suit. If Tim can finagle a consciousness into a regular suit, Jason should be able to as well. Maybe the next one won’t be such an asshole. Though he doubts it. On all counts.

He doesn’t remember if actually brought any plastique. Lucius isn’t exactly itching to do Jason any favors and Alfred would be more likely to politely mock him for doing something as stupid as blowing up his own suit. There’s no way for them to know how Red Robin is Red Robin now. And he’s, admittedly, a major asshole so it only makes sense whatever suit gets stuck with him has a personality to match. 

Tim bops the helmet and scowls at it. “Rude.” Red Hood doesn’t hit Tim. Instead, it pats him on the cheek gently. “Much better,” Tim says, satisfied.

Jason gapes at the interaction. “That is so unfair. What the fuck!”

“I told you things went well when I covered for you.”

“Apparently. Maybe a little too well.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It seemed like the Red Hood lik-”

Flipping over so his ass is seated in the well of Jason’s legs, back arched over his thigh, Tim looks at Jason. Jason doesn’t like the way Tim is looking at him. It’s less wondering and more knowing. So he does what he does best and tries to push Tim off him. They’ve been too close to too long and the need to run is an overwhelming compulsion at this point. Like a goddamn lamprey, Tim winds his arms around Jason’s waist and holds fast. The guy doesn’t go anywhere despite Jason’s best efforts since he isn’t in a position to get the leverage he needs to pry Tim off.

“You like me,” Tim says simply.

Jason chokes as the bottom of his stomach falls out. “No, I don’t,” Jason denies.

His helmet makes a high pitched whine of protest like the voice modulator got hit with a current and fried the circuitry. Goddamn, he thinks he even hears a click from one of his guns. Red Hood is a straight up thug. Which Jason loves but, holy hell, right now he definitely doesn’t. Being bullied by what amounts to a souped up, military grade Call of Duty cosplay hits him right in his pride. Forget Bruce and the clusterfuck of that whole thing, this is his new villain origin story. 

Red Robin isn’t so charmed by his denial either. The suit flops onto the bed, farther up this time, so it can nail him right in the shin. Jason makes a pained noise more from being startled than it actually hurting. If the blanket weren’t draped over his legs, then, yeah, that would’ve stung. Great, now, he’s being bullied by the equivalent of a theater major seamstress’ fever dream too. When will the injustices end?

Throwing his hands up, literally because he’s so far past settling for metaphorically doing it, Jason looks to the ceiling and prays for patience. And to not get socked in the jaw by Tim for what he’s about to say. Still, to the pock-marked ceiling, Jason says, “Fine, yes, I like you! Jesus, fuck, everybody lay offa me! This is the worst kind of peer pressure. At least I could cunt punt a peer but no. I get some goddamn JoAnn Fabric cast offs harassing me.”

“And me,” Tim pipes up.

“And you! Which, can’t we focus on the miracle of your suit showing signs of intelligent, manipulative and kind-of-dickish life? Let’s go back to you getting misty eyed over a newly minted supernatural costume.”

“We’ll come back to that,” Tim agrees, “but first we should probably deal with this. Just, Jason...”

Well, shit, he doesn’t like Tim’s tone. It’s not the voice of a man about to lay his heart bare in preparation for an emotionally charged conversation destined to end in a heated kiss and a roll in the sack before the camera cuts to black. Nor is it shy and demure or happy and accepting. Jason doesn’t want to put a name to it but, if he had to, he’d say Tim sounds distinctly awkward and uncomfortable. Hesitant and pained. This does not bode well for his chances. He can already smell the acrid, sharp scent of his chances going up in flames. 

“There’s a lot between us,” Tim says somewhere around the bottom of Jason’s ribcage. “That we’ve never talked about.” Now Tim pulls away fully until he’s back on his side of the bed.

Jason knows a let down when he hears one. He opens his mouth to tell Tim to can it, spare them both the continued embarrassment. On some level, Jason always knew anything between them would be doomed. Forget burning the bridge between himself and Tim, Jason incinerated it. With prejudice. The fact they’ve come so far already is a miracle. It’s the little, emaciated street kid in him that makes him greedy, to take and take and take until he can’t anymore. Well, this is the can’t anymore, he guesses. But now he’ll lose it all. 

The words are there on the tip of his tongue when his helmet makes another whirring, whining noise of protest on one side of the bed and there’s the pat, pat, pat of fabric against fabric on the other. His head whips between the Red Hood, disgruntled and displeased, and Red Robin attacking Tim’s leg much as it had Jason. Tim quickly scoots back towards Jason and pulls his legs in. In response, Red Robin flops onto the bed again and nails Tim right across the face. 

Jason has never claimed to be a good person so he laughs. “Okay, I’m starting to feel fuckin’ hunted here. I get why they’re coming at me but-”

He breaks off since there’s no point in finishing the sentence. Tim is a genius. Point blank, period. It’s a verifiable fact Jason hates and likes in equal measure. If his big brain can’t piece together a puzzle, Jason doesn’t stand a chance but by no means is he a slouch. For this, understanding why Red Robin and Red Hood are coming at Tim just as hard as they are at him, Jason doesn’t need a three digit IQ. 

“You little shit, you like me too,” Jason accuses, honestly mad Tim was about to dismiss him out of hand. 

Tim doesn’t say anything which is answer enough for Jason. Not for Red Robin who whips out at Tim again, making him curl up tighter and away from the offending garment. Or offended garment, in this case. 

“I’m bad at this,” Tim hisses to his suit. “God, why are you so-”

“Oddly violent?”

“Persistent,” Tim insists, glaring at Jason. 

Jason fixes him with a look.

“And a manipulative asshole,” Jason supplies but he isn’t talking about Tim’s suit anymore.

“I’m bad at this,” Tim says again, this time directly to Jason.

“Tim.”

“Jason.”

Red Robin and Red Hood voice their displeasure as much as they can.

Rolling his eyes, Jason talks at the ceiling again because it’s easier. “Why wouldn’t you just say that? Okay, you’re bad at it, fine. I literally paved the way for you to just say ‘Golly gee, me too’.”

“I’m awkward, okay?” Tim blurts, irritated and not bothering to pull on his usual carefully crafted mask of indifference. “I’m not exactly the greatest when it comes to interpersonal relationships. You can just ask Steph.” After a brief pause, Tim backpedals, “Actually, don’t. Never do that.”

“Well now I have to.”

“You really, really don’t.”

“Maybe if you’d stop being such a coward-”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Jason says maturely.

Jason should’ve known the kiss was coming as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Not once has Jason seen Tim back down from a challenge once it has been set down in front of him. Including the time Jason gave him a spectacular beat down in Titans Tower and demanded to know if Tim thought he was good enough for Robin. Half unconscious and bloodied, Tim had said yes. 

This isn’t so different, Jason thinks, because he kisses back, brutal and vicious and commanding, while Tim takes it all then dishes it back. More than once, Jason’s teeth clack against Tim’s but neither of them pull away. Somewhere between now and Jason’s head emptying of rational thought, his hand has found its way to the back of Tim’s neck, keeping him in place. He doesn’t have to worry about Tim pulling away, not really, with the way Tim holds onto Jason’s waist.

The world drops away till there’s nothing but the soft, barely there moans Tim breathes into him. He swallows them greedily, vows to get more of them till he’s had his fill. His other hand, the one not latched onto Tim, finds Tim’s thigh and kneads at the muscle there. One of Tim’s hands slides down and skirts along the edge of his shirt till it teasingly slips under the fabric. The rough, calloused pads of Tim’s fingers ghost over his stomach, making the muscles twitch. 

It all comes back into focus, hitting him like a freight train, when the hand on Tim’s leg can’t wander any farther up than it already has even though he knows he’s nowhere near his ultimate end goal. Cracking open his eyes, Jason looks down to see Red Robin forming a blockade to preserve Tim’s chastity. Red Robin doesn’t get to mastermind them into a bed together then dictate what they do when Tim’s making those encouraging, willing little noises.

Leaning back to catch his breath, Jason reluctantly lets go of Tim’s leg and scruffs the Red Robin suit then tosses it over the side of the bed with a growl. 

“That was uncalled for,” Tim tells him.

“You want me to stop?” Jason asks.

“No. Very much no.”

“Then it was called for,” Jason asserts. 

“Fair enough,” Tim laughs. He huffs as his eyes dart from one side of the bed to the other. “It’d be weird to do anything with the suits here though.”

“They literally fondle us on a nightly basis. I think their definition of propriety is a little different from ours,” Jason points out. 

Looking thoughtful, Tim says, “Huh, I knew the Red Hood suit was chafing weird when I wore it.”

Leaning over, Jason slaps his helmet and shoves his bag under the bed. “Goddamn dirty dog, keep your kevlar weave off.” 

The Red Hood doesn’t make a peep or put up any protest. Jason doubts it’s because the suit wore itself out being more active than usual. Stupid thing probably doesn’t have a good counter argument, having been caught out and ruthlessly thrown under the bus by Tim. 

“In its defense, it really made things easy and protected me well. It was, sweet, too, I guess?” Tim offers.

“Well, good,” Jason replies lamely. “Can’t say the same about Red Robin,” he adds with a glare at Tim’s side of the bed where Red Robin is hopefully puddled on the ground and content to stay there.

Meddlers, the both of them. Grade A meddlers of the highest order. 

“Yeah,” Tim says contemplatively. 

To poke the bruise one more time, Jason tells him, “Yanno, the suit’s probably something special because you’re something special.”

The sappy ass words make Jason feel like the world’s biggest tool but it’s worth it for the instant flush. His cheeks and ears and neck all go a delicious pink that Jason wants to bite at. Take the light dusting and make it vibrant. Create a portrait of deep reds and purples wherever he can. Jason thinks he’ll get the chance to do that sooner than expected when Tim tackles him. After a brief scuffle, Jason rolls them so Tim’s under him with his wrists pinned and legs draped on either side of Jason’s hips. Tim could get out of the hold. Jason isn’t trying to really keep him down. 

But Tim doesn’t. 

He allows it which is enough for Jason to settle his weight over Tim and forget about the busy body suits probably basking in smug satisfaction for getting them to this point.

[edgy-ella]

SONIC 3 WAS SO GOOD!!!

Extended thoughts below:

The action scenes are by far the best they’ve ever been in the whole series. They’ve really improved how they visually represent Sonic’s speed. The only exception is the gravity scene at GUN HQ, which I think dragged on a little too long and overall wasn’t as impactful as, say, fighting a GUN mech with those same gravity abilities would’ve been.

Keanu is ok as Shadow. If you’ve seen the trailers, that’s about the level he keeps it at for the whole movie. I think I would’ve been more sold on him if he gave a bigger “MARIA!!” when she died.

In the first act, I felt like the movie was kind of on autopilot. Things just kind of happened without a ton of buildup, and the script kind of lacked flavor for the expository scenes. For example: when Sonic asks Olive Garden Guy™ about Shadow, he just starts expositing Shadow’s lore without anything like “this information is top secret, tell no one else about this” or “it’s painful to think about…I wish I could just act like it never happened” or even Sonic questioning how/why Shadow came from a meteorite. Just lore exposition without flavor from the rest of the cast. Throughout the movie, the dialogue felt very on the nose. I wish it was a little more subtle, but it’s a kids movie I get it.

On that note, the movie feels like it just has a checklist of SA2 iconography they had to tick off rather than more naturally integrating that kind of stuff into the plot. For the larger story it works well, like with Shadow and Maria, but stuff like the Chao Garden and “talk about a low budget flight!” just kind of felt…tacked on. In the moment it’s fine because I’m too busy aggressively pointing at the screen, but for someone not as invested in the series as I am, it feels a little random and clunky.

The movie really kicks up when Shadow starts having Maria flashbacks. The little montage they have with them together was so good. The cold cut to the record player stopping was so well done.

In retrospect, when just looking at this movie and not the rest of the franchise, I think Maria and Gerald’s relationship could’ve had some more focus. They never mention anything about Maria being sick in the movie, so it’s not clear why she’s there at the research station to begin with. That being said, Gerald telling Ivo “you’re no Maria” towards the end was gut wrenching. My theater audibly ooh’d.

@allshaftsfall and I were betting that the reason Gerald is still alive would’ve been through time travel shenanigans (which would set up the next movie), but, bizarrely enough, it just seems like Gerald is genuinely that old. He mentions he’s 110. But…how? Did he just survive that long? Did he use Shadow’s quill to expand his lifespan? It’s never explained.

I’m glad they had Knuckles and Tails continue to be proactive and do things instead of just being relegated to cheerleaders and/or comic relief. Knuckles in particular wound up hard carrying Sonic and Tails through most of the action setpieces.

There’s a scene where Tails talks to Agent Stone about being Sonic’s friend and not his assistant like Stone thinks he is, and Tails asks Stone “aren’t you and Eggman best friends too?” Stone replies verily sorrowfully “yeah…friends. Totally friends.” I know it’s meant to read as Stone wishing Eggman treated him better but I could not see it as anything other than Stone thinking “he’s my lover!” but thinking he can’t say that to Tails bc he thinks Tails is homophobic.

YET ANOTHER GOD DAMN CASPER REFERENCE. I cannot believe that both this and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, my two most hyped movies of the year, both had Casper references in them. I’m losing my mind.

I am so mad they didn’t actually kill off Tom. The setup was right there. They even parallel Sonic grieving him to Shadow grieving over Maria! But noooo he survives. When will we be free of human cop dad.

DUDE. The Super Sonic/Super Shadow fight was SO FUCKING GOOD. Worth the price of admission alone.

I kinda figured Live and Learn was gonna be in the movie going in from how much everyone’s been #KnowingSmile posting about it, but honestly? I was more hyped hearing Eggman’s theme from Unleashed start playing. It was way more of a “oh my god, it’s the thing!” moment. That being said HOLY SHIT LIVE AND LEARN PEAK!!!!!! The movie’s OST had a lot more of a rock influence and I couldn’t be happier.

I have some miscellaneous “I liked this better in SA2” stuff (pissing on the moon, Shadow’s heel-face turn, etc.), but all of them I understand why the filmmakers did what they did so they’re just nitpicks.

The end credits scene is kind of insane because it’s super long. It just feels like a scene from the next movie. Metal looks a little rough, but I’m sure they’ll polish him up for the next movie. They’re probably going to lean into Amy being a magic fortune teller girl given how she shows up in a dark cloak and floats in the air. I hope she’s gonna keep the fangirl energy, but I doubt it. Very interesting choice to do multiple Metal Sonics, though, especially since Sega only likes using the one Metal Sonic rather than having different copies running around. My prediction for the next movie is that Neo Metal Sonic will be the main villain and he’s controlling all the other Metal Sonics from afar.

[fan-girls-r-us]

Y’all, it’s that time again…

… Time to discuss the latest chapter of Spy x Family!

Obviously, there will be spoilers.

So a lot happened this chapter, but what I’m intent on unpacking is Anya’s botched fortune-telling session.

So while I’m not that proficient in tarot card reading, my sister and SO are far more knowledgeable. So I asked them.

Forgive me if I make any mistakes, I’m still learning this and am by no means an authority.

Breaking it down very broadly:

There are two kinds of tarot cards, ones of the major arcana, and ones of the minor arcana. Minor arcana represent every day life events/experiences; so for example, minor arcana could tell a person who’s being read about things such as how interpersonal relationships (romantic and non-romantic) may turn out. Each suit and number in the minor arcana mean something specific; each suit, for example, represents the four elements. Wands are fire, cups are water, swords are air, and pentacles are earth. The numbers basically represent how you’re looking at the subject of the card. Major arcana represent complex subjects, meant to divine major life events— cruxes in one’s destiny.

Further, the orientation of the cards matter a lot. If the cards face the tarot reader, then the card is read as is— that is to say, the card’s meaning is unchanged. However, if the card is facing the individual being read, then the card’s meaning is reversed. The Fool no longer means opportunity/potential, but now represents lost opportunities or squandered potential, for example.

On the table above, Anya has two major arcana cards and five minor arcana cards. Three of the cards are upside down. Her cards are:

Three of Wands (the card covered by Melinda’s hand): Minor arcana. Upside down. Typically represents momentum/confidence/growth/expansion. Wands also represent fire/passion. The number three also means that you are looking to something or anticipating something optimistically. However, as the card is upside down, it is read as the opposite of what it means; so where Anya may have had momentum, this means she’ll stall and likely lose momentum/confidence.

Three of Swords: Minor arcana. Typically represents a sorrowful experience/tragedy/loss. It could be a lost relationship, it could be the death of a loved one. It could just be something sad. Swords represent air/intellect, mental processes, struggles challenges, etc.

Four of Cups: Minor arcana. Typically represents the need to re-evaluate your current perspective and state of mind. Cups represent water/emotions or emotional state. The number four represents things becoming less abstract and more productive/stable/purposeful; the number four basically means order. THIS IS THE CARD MELINDA CHOSE TO REPRESENT ANYA’S PRESENT.

The Star: Major arcana. Upside down. Typically represents hope/renewal/healing/optimism. However, as the card is upside down, its meaning is reversed. So it instead represents despair/self-doubt and being stuck. From what I understand, the numbers are of less consequence with the major arcana, and we never see the number on The Star anyway. THIS IS THE CARD MELINDA CHOSE TO REPRESENT ANYA’S FUTURE.

Death: Major arcana. Typically represents major change, the end of one thing and the beginning of another. Again, I don’t know of what consequence (if any) the numbers have on major arcana, but as we can see here, the number is 13. THIS IS THE ONLY CARD LEFT FOR THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE, SO PRESUMABLY MELINDA CHOSE THIS TO REPRESENT ANYA’S PAST.

Ace of Cups: Minor arcana. Upside down. Typically represents joy/inner peace, but also the start of love or a new relationship. The Ace is the trump card and typically represents total success/luck/hard work. As it is upside down, it means that Anya won’t find success in forging a relationship, and that there will be contention/acrimony.

Ten of Pentacles: Minor arcana. Typically represents wealth/security, family/legacy. The ten represents the conclusion of a cycle/event.

There are several ways in which these cards can be interpreted.

While Anya asked Melinda to give her a reading in the context of connecting with Damian better, we can also interpret her cards through the lens of theories regarding her experiences/background and that the cards may be indicative of either parallels between the two of them, or means by which Anya can leverage said experiences to get closer to Damian. Furthermore, we have to take into account that, not only are the reading of tarot cards a matter of interpretation, but also not definitive (if you believe in tarot cards/divination).

I have my own personal theories about what some of these cards mean to Anya, (side-eyeing that Three of Swords so. hard.) but only time will tell how relevant they are, and if they even mean anything to the story’s progression.

Happy holidays, all!

[valkyrieromanoff]

Hi! How are you? Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! ❤️❤️

I have kind of a weird request: I’m a psych student, and I’ve been studying disorders for a test, so now it feels like that’s all I can think about lol. I was wondering if you’d ever consider dipping into the DSM world and writing something about sexual dysfunctions?

No worries if it’s not your vibe—totally get it! Sending love either way 💕

🎀 Premature ejaculation 🎀

words: 923

a/n: Hello, sweetie!🥰 I absolutely adored your request—it really challenged me (in the best way, lol). I did a quick dive into the diagnostic criteria and tried to keep things light and fun 💕.

Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Had so much fun with this one ✨. Sending you all the love and kisses 😘❤️

Anakin couldn't quite explain how it had happened. One moment he was sitting in the Jedi Temple's dining hall, swallowing that horrible ration that looked more like sawdust, mentally complaining about how the food looked almost— if not worse— than the ones he had eaten as a child on Tatooine.

Then he found himself at the heart of a feast. Your Jedi robes were beneath your beautiful body as you lay on his bed, the bandages you had used to support your chest laying on the floor, your lovely breasts rising and falling with the movement of your breathing, which was accelerating under his eyes.

A mist of disbelief and yearning hazed Anakin's blue eyes. He couldn't believe how fortunate he was to have you so needy and willing for him.

"Kriffing, you're so beautiful," He gently said as he reached out to touch your nude body. Almost as if he was terrified of contaminating such a masterpiece with his humanity, his fingertips sought your smooth skin with care.

The sweet noises that escaped your lips were a magnanimous reward for the young padawan; his groin went crazy when he touched your tummy and your eyes closed, going all the way down to the curvature of your hips.

Your moist folds welcomed him like tongues of fire, warming his whole body as his fingers found your warm embrace. An erection appeared as his blood seemed to boil and pool in his cock.

Your fingertips brushed his trousers so softly that Anakin vowed he wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the way the force was so filled with you. It was overwhelming; he didn't even have to close his eyes to feel you everywhere, in every way, like the fireplace flames that are constantly there even though their intensity fluctuates.

Squeezing his eyes tight, Anakin tried to concentrate on what he was doing, on how your heat encircled his fingers like a velvet blanket and how your spongy walls held him like fire embers on dry straw, searing everything without mercy or rest.

Not that he wanted to stop; honestly, he had stopped wanting for a long time ago, You were a need; He needed you like the oxygen he breathed, just as plants need the sun to thrive and the oceans need the moon to deliver their tides.

Without you, nothing existed because you were everything. Anakin slid two fingers within you, encouraged by the graceful gasps that poured from your pink lips like divine tunes composed just for him.

He didn't know exactly what he was doing; he had never done anything like this before. Of course, like any teenager with hormones in full swing, especially padawans who are taught from an early age that they should not indulge their carnal desires, he had previously resolved that minor issue in his groin.

Whether it was touching himself in the shower, his hand clutching his cock under the water spray till he felt his release trickle down the drain with the foam, or thrusting his hips against the mattress, grinding his erect cock beneath his Jedi robes.

Anakin had already pictured what it would be like to touch you, to feel your body writhing above him or under him; it didn't matter as long as it was with you; the rest was a mere detail, irrelevant.

Reality, however, was far superior to his most vivid dreams; the way your pussy welcomed his fingers and squeezed them like quicksand caused his eyes to roll with the rush of ecstasy.He could cum right there; Anakin slid with such ease that he let out a low sigh as he twisted his fingers in and out of your moist folds.

As his orgasm struck him like an avalanche, he felt his legs sway, his hips stutter, a flashing white blurring his eyesight, and colorful stars flashing in his head. His brain was a heated, disorganized mass, and it took him a few seconds to process what had happened.

He had cum before he had done anything, without even taking off his clothing, and it was the damp sensation in his pants that jolted him back to reality. Just the sensation of you on his fingertips carried him to paradise, and since he had nothing to cling to, he let himself be pulled along."

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to..." Anakin's blush rose on his neck and spread over his cheeks as he apologized profoundly.He felt so ashamed that he was unable to look you in the eyes. You smiled gently, your eyes holding a compassionate, kind light that made him release the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"It's okay, Ani," you assured him softly, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately, the heat of his embarrassment warming your skin. "We can try again if you want."

Anakin was still ashamed; it was an extremely awkward situation, embarrassing. imagine cumming before even having sex properly, in front of the girl he still liked. Kriffing.

Yet, he seemed to feel less insecure and doubtful than before; the warmth in your eyes and the assurance your grin transmitted were plenty.

"I'll be better next time," Anakin assured, his voice low but laced with dedication, confident that he would give you pleasure and transport you to paradise as effortlessly as you had pushed him.

"I know you will," you assured affably,a loving smile spreading over your pink lips. Anakin thought he could get lost as often as you did, and you would always find him.

[ultimadmt]

Thank you so much for all the kind words— reading this really made my day to see that you enjoyed it so much!! (^u^ )

As for the way I drew “Taranza”— I was so glad to hear you loved it!! I loved how you wrote the Dream Flower as this result of his self-loathing desires, and I wanted to make sure I could visually show off how much I appreciated that aspect, so making it appear as the inside of this vision of “Sectonia” was something I wanted to do from the start!!

The same thing goes for the panel(s) where Taranza is staring at the mirror— early in the comic I made sure to show him seeing Joronia in that reflection before he finally comes to terms with moving on- and seeing himself again, giving him this extremely tired and almost saddened but also relieved expression. This was one of my favourite aspects of your work, seeing his flaws but also finally seeing himself for what he is again— it was deeply powerful to me. So it was also my top priority to include in this comic (>u<)— I’m so glad you appreciated both of those aspects :)

I had been planning to draw a comic for a while, though a few moments had been in contention for what I wanted to adapt, but after reading Chapter 18 I had been totally floored— with the descriptiveness, I could visualize everything that happened within that chapter in my mind and couldn’t resist deciding then and there what I was going to draw.

Another contender for me that I had to decide against drawing after deciding to adapt Chapter 18 was how you portrayed the relationship of Dark Meta Knight and Taranza— it had alot of nuance that I find other adaptations didn’t include. I really loved how things between them ‘resolved’ in their last interaction. They aren’t friends, but Taranza learned alot in that moment regardless.

Regarding the other characters— yes!! Your representation of the Wave 3 (+ marx and lor) gang has become as close to my heart as the characters themselves— I really hope we’ll see them all again someday in another work.

Speaking of the next work— I agree, moving to another Kirby fic directly after this would definitely be too soon. I deeply respect and appreciate that aspect of your writing, that you know when to end things perfectly!! (But selfishly as a fan it always leaves me SO desperate for more, LOL)

I can’t wait to see said other works for your other fandoms- and I will even more eagerly await the next Kirby story, for however long it takes for you to loop back around to that point, hahah. I would just love to see your interpretation continue because it may please you to hear it genuinely is what drove me back into Kirby as deeply as I have been lately (and helped inspire alot of my art)—! I have been a Kirby fan since I was very young, though after the launch of Star Allies (pre-dlc, since I think the DLC fixed alot of my problems with that game!) I had been left a little disappointed at the time, and fell out of the community pretty hard. I had always watched from the sidelines, but I had many other fixations that took priority, and I didn’t keep up with the lore. I recently had a friend who showed interest in becoming a Kirby fan, so I introduced them to some games I played and had. Playing them together reminded me why I had been so fixated years before, and after that, I fell upon Magoranza naturally, since it included my two favourite characters. I had looked up fanfiction, curious, and that was how I found your fic, which reinvigorated my hyperfixation to max capacity— I just couldn’t get over how well characterized and nuanced every character was with the way you wrote!! So I wanted to deeply thank you for AWA and your kind words for my art- it inspires me too! I can’t wait to read the finale.

Good luck with it, and whatever work you have next—!!!

"LIVE"

A short comic based on "A Wonderful Attraction' by @rainykthebroken

i hope you enjoyed it!!! it gets a little rough around the edges towards the end-- but i hope that can be forgiven LOL. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the original fanfic by the wonderful Rainyk (@rainykthebroken)!!! it's a fantastic work that i couldn't hope to capture with this little comic of mine :) to rainyk: i hope this comic was able to instill in you even a fraction of the joy that i got reading not just AWA, but your other Kirby works as well!! im sorry if i couldn't fully capture it as you envisioned, drawing is hard and i had to take a few creative liberties for a comic (>n< '') !! i wanted to put this short footnote for you because as someone who is not just an artist but a writer, i find that written works are often gone less noticed / less praised, and i wanted to make sure to share mine with you!! while reading AWA, i was deeply captured by your extremely beautiful and descriptive writing style- i could almost picture the scenes you were painting down to details, and your use of metaphors throughout the story had me genuinely close to tears a couple of times LOL. your characterizations of the entire kirby cast show such a deep understanding of the characters, especially within the main 4 (+lor...) that genuinely helped shape how i view them myself. they are by and large my favourite characterizations of them period-- theyre filled with such nuance and interesting development, and most importantly you gave time for all of them to develop with the other characters, instead of just focusing on the ship!! when i first read that your native language wasn't english, i was so shocked!! you honestly could have fooled me LOL. your writing showed such a deep understanding of the language art i found myself mulling over some of my favorite lines for way too long (><''). to end this long note off, i just wanted to say that since AWA is coming to an end- for my own selfish purposes, i honestly hope you'll continue with more Kirby works, or more works in this 'timeline' even, since i fell in love with these characters so deeply i'm almost broken to have to let them go -- BWAHAH. but i also believe you have a great talent that i know you can take very far from reading what i have- so i will be excited for whatever it is you decide to write next, even if that isn't kirby!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ i hope that you enjoyed my little work in tribute of yours!! (and that it isn't too incomprehensible because it got super scribbly LMFAO.)

[l0v3r666]

idk if uve done this before buuuttt.. tsundere idia? 🥺 tyty

good idea!!

Tsundere!Idia that’s gets foul with you, and he’s not the type that’ll just kick your shins and run away all blushy. No chance, because when does the prefect ever get good things? He will INSTAKILL your confidence. Sure he loves you and is this close to just biting the bullet and make a holo-yuu for himself, but there’s no way you’ll EVER know that. Tsundere!Idia that is only so mean because he took himself out of the race before it even started- how’s he supposed to compete with the “prince with a super tragic and sexy backstory”?? He’s just Idia!!! (Ignoring that he’s basically Batman)

Tsundere!Idia has devoted his entire life to preserving his introvert utopia, no shot he’ll let some.. temptress sully his good name! (Read; login streak)

Tsundere!Idia that’s forced to do an alchemy class with you in person!! (“Blah blah can’t google answers, pup!”) smoke is literally coming off his head, and somehow he’s “your favourite partner”?? Are you trying to kill him?? OFC he has to combat this super effective move with a mumbled comment about how “well.. your hair looks really dumb” but how’s he supposed to speak up and insult you to your face when it looks like that!! “nvm!! ctrl z,,”

But with how shy Idia is around you face to face, he “makes up for it” with how degrading he is online (only with text to speech :’) and the poor prefect is left wondering if they’ve been catfished :( sure the conversation’s a little stale, but he’s never this mean when you see him! You’ve just got to get to the bottom of this!

Your introduction to Ortho Shroud is a little awkward, considering your opening line is “your older brother’s totally my type! And I’m pretty sure he hates me!” But afterwards you two click like nuts and bolts! Idia’s left shaking in a corner of his room bc who says that?? You have to be some kind of idiot! Or better yet, he’s the genius because his master “avoid the loml” play is working!!

Atleast it was. Until Ortho gets the bright idea to set the two of you up in his room. You’re trying to see what his problem is, and he’s stuck because he’s had this raid planned for months, he can’t just bail!

What’ll happen? Stay tuned for the results of noob vs hacker next season!! (They beef it out or make out no third option)

[duchessofostergotlands]

Unpopular royal fashion opinions: The heels are too high. Royal fashion has gotten too conservative. Yellow is a difficult colour to wear. Fake eyelashes are not great.

Ok so some thoughts:

I think feet are a crime against nature and shoes are just a means to an end to cover these hideousness monstrosities so I pay very little attention to them unless they're very cool lol

I did think about something a bit like this actually. It was going to be more of a "there's no such thing as "appropriate" royal dressing." People throw that word around a lot - usually about Letizia - and when I ask them what they mean by inappropriate and what they're basing it on they never give me a good answer. Usually in the end they just give up and say "I just don't think royals should dress that way." No explanation. And they're allowed to have that opinion but "I don't like it" is a long way from "it is inappropriate for a royal to dress this way." I get if clothes are emblazoned with racist slogans or if they are against the specific dress code or something like that. But more often than not the outfits don't detract from their ability to do their job and it's purely misogynistic pearl clutching about a woman they already hate being comfortable in the way she looks and taking up space.

Yep, hate yellow. Only works in a handful of cases but when it does it's gorgeous. I already have a colour related one on my list though so might not include it this time.

Do royals wear fake eyelashes? I pay attention to make up about as much as I pay attention to shoes - maybe even less so - so I have no idea!

[hylianane]

A big part of the Haikyuu rewatch is watching the characters interact and worrying that I fandomized their relationships too much in my head, particularly with the Karasuno first years because Hinata and Kags keep Yamaguchi and Tsukishima at arm’s length for so long. But then I remember. Oh wait the squad is literally Hinata’s phone background by the end of the story. You don’t put a picture of just some dudes in your after school club as your phone background.