#also me: wrote this...oops. lol

[beck-hartman]

WHO: Beck & @shoshanna-hart WHERE: Wild at Hart, downtown Merrock

Beck, I want to talk to you.

He had wanted to have this talk since he'd first run into her, had a half a dozen or more questions for her about the last eight years, but as he drove up on his bike, he felt nervous.

I’ll always want to be your friend, but I also want…

He knew how that sentence ended in his bones, so this whole thing was his to lose. If it ended like he thought, then there was nothing to worry about, but she had seemed worried. Maybe it was because she had moved on and fallen in love with someone else...maybe she still was. If that were true, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. She could lie about that. She wouldn't, not to him, but he didn't know how he'd handle that.

He took a minute to walk the downtown area after he parked to get out some of the nerves. Taking a few deep breaths, he looked around for some tiny rocks on the sidewalk before reaching down to grab two. Tossing the first up at one of the upper windows at the shop, he waited that slight beat before throwing the second. One wasn't enough to be sure, three was risk of catching parental attention, so they'd decided on two in a certain rhythm to know the other was outside. If it was coast was clear, you come to the window. They were adults now and didn't need to do this, but he couldn't resist one more trip down memory lane.

As she appeared, he smiled because she remembered. At that same instant, his nerves dissipated. There she was, his best friend, his soulmate, what was there to worry about? There was nothing too bad that she could say, so he gave her a wave and waited for her to let him in.

[harbingersglory]

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

[eternallyfatedjadedspaded]

Henry and Nigel BHS vibes

my gods, i can't wait to have more time and energy to get ILY done and start working on BHS. this footsies game playing i've been having to play is not enough. the last one is great because, is it nigel or henry? both... either or... yes.

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

>pt. 4 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[zestyzigzagoon]

holy shit wait, happy first birthday to Chasing Sunsets!!!

[diamondsheep]

Comic thing ✍️✨️

A bit late but this is the first time i do this challenge and i had a lot of fun !!! I enjoy drawing these silly doodle comics :3 !!

[lululawrence]

Sus' 40 to 40 Countdown: 28 Days

Today is 28 days until my birthday, so to celebrate the number 28, today's theme is in honor of our king of a 50 meter road 😉

Fics I Wrote So Fast, They Almost Wrote Themselves:

You Don't Care About Me (One More Night) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis (canon compliant, pining, friends with benefits, forced coming out)

The one where Louis pines for Harry and Nick helps ease his way into figuring himself out through a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Things quickly turn complicated.

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) - Harry/Louis (future dystopia, magical realism, fantasy, childhood friends to lovers, dreamsharing)

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and a group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.

Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.

Maybe You'll Like The Way I Am - Harry/Louis (omegaverse, fake relationship, neighbors, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending)

When Louis' alpha neighbor asks him to pretend to be his omega for a week, Louis immediately says no. He has too much he's dealing with on his own, and he swore to himself he'd never get that close to an alpha again. Unable to hold to that resolve once guilt sets in, Louis finds that maybe fumbling his way through a fake relationship for a week was exactly what he needed to finally be able to move on.

Can I Have Your Attention, Please? - Nick Grimshaw/Louis (famous/non-famous, luggage swap, humor, flirting, mistaken identity)

The one where Nick develops a crush on the man whose bag he accidentally grabs at the airport. It is obviously just a coincidence that the man shares a first name with the pop star whose Instagram Nick lusts after as well.

All 40 to 40 Countdown Posts

[kirkwallsbane]

that one post the other day asked about Lavellan's family members and reminded me that I had concepts of rewriting the 'Protect Clan Lavellan' war table missions as an actual playable quest, especially one in my world where my companion OC Enasel'an Lavellan is involved

Anyway i've since written 6 pages of notes on how the quest would work and how Enasel'an specifically as a companion ties into it

[jane-lynndrake-t]

OOC: YOOOOOOOOOOO OWENS AND Z ARE PIECES OF THE ACHERON PLOT TOO?!?!?

Longshot, but is Janet running into all kinds of people who shaped Tim by their death? Is the Daughter of Acheron trying to do some Batman: Beyond-like plot here to make a Tim that would accept her advances?

Mr. Washington is a little stand offish. He has this calculating glint in his eyes that he doesn't know how to hide. I don't think he likes it when people notice that.

Mr. Owens is a bit more amiable. He says some scary stuff like it's a funny anecdote. I dont particularly find them funny.

It is amusing, however, to see him catch himself when he realizes what he's saying and scramble to fix it.

They both seem like they're unsure of what to do with me.

OOC: LETS GOOOO, THE BOYS!!

I always thought Z and Owens were an interesting characters, and it was a shame that they died in Red Robin :/

Jan is having a hard time understanding just why strange things and people keep chancing upon her. Or what and who should she trust after being dropped into situations.

But I'm sure y'all can help her out :]

[sh5]

hot prof was talking about how he wears a tie every day because he’s so casual otherwise. god you’re such a creep I NEED YOU

[robbysreaders]

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader   word count: 1k whoops!! notes: i wrote it thinking of the couple from all my other jack x reader blurbs but they can all be read standalone! Also I stole some of this from ER S2 E10 bc Shep gave me Abbot vibes in that scene lol

You’ve been planning this barbecue for weeks. It finally feels like summer in the city, and you and Jack agreed it was time to start integrating your friend groups — a real "see how the worlds blend" kind of thing.

He’s already met your friends. They’re obsessed with him, obviously. And you’ve stopped by the bar a few times for post-shift drinks with his people. But this? This was something a little more planned. A little more intentional. And you have a sneaking suspicion he’s hoping to set up your friend Olivia with Shen, but that’s a whole other story.

You’re a bit stressed.

Sure, it was your idea together, but with Jack’s schedule (and his, let’s say, casual approach to logistics for all things outside of patient care) most of the planning has fallen on you. And you’ve only been dating officially for three-ish months.

He did go with you to the grocery store on his most recent day off, which only reminded you why you never grocery shop with him. Jack handles produce the same way he handles incoming traumas: focused, grim, and entirely too intense. You watch him inspect an avocado like it might code on the cart if he squeezes it wrong. He lets out a low huff every time you toss something in the cart that wasn’t on your shared list. You roll your eyes. He side-eyes your impulse-buy lemonade. It's a whole thing.

Still, the day-of, he’s been great. His townhouse is bigger than your apartment and has a small backyard that he’s clearly invested in — fire pit, outdoor furniture, and even those outdoor string lights you once offhandedly said would be cute. He’s prepped all the food and is fully committed to manning the grill all night.

That doesn’t stop you from snapping a little when, two hours before guests arrive, he decides now is the perfect time to repaint the baseboards.

“Seriously?” you say, exasperated. “That’s what you think people are going to notice?”

He blinks, caught mid-brush stroke. “They’re chipping. I already had the paint out.”

You throw your hands up, immediately regretting your tone. “Sorry. I’m just stressed. I’m worried your friends aren’t going to like mine.”

He sets the paint down, walks over, and settles his hands gently on your hips.

“Baby,” he murmurs, eyes soft. “You’ve never seen my crew at a real party. I’m worried they’re gonna make me look like a fool.”

The party’s in full swing by the time you finally get a breath. Laughter drifts from the yard. Drinks clink. Someone’s put on a playlist that’s very heavy on 2000s throwbacks. You duck into the kitchen to refill the chips when you hear footsteps behind you.

Jack leans in the doorway, smiling, “Not very good hosts if we’re both inside.” 

There’s a beat — just a little too long — before he says it, casual as anything: “I love you.”

You blink. Freeze. He grins, that cocky, endearing little smirk. “I do. I said it. I do. I think i even want you to have my babies.”

“Jack,” you say, half-laughing, “you’re drunk. And probably have heatstroke.”

“I’ve had one beer. And I’ve been wearing a hat. I mean it. Every word. I think we’d have really good ones. I think they’d look nice. I think we should spend every day together and throw parties all the time and do this.”

He’s inched closer, now practically nose to nose with you.

“Jack…” you whisper, breath caught somewhere between disbelief and giddiness, arms resting on his shoulders, fingers curling into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t back off. If anything, he steps even closer.

“I know it’s sudden. I know it’s out of the blue,” he says, voice low but steady. “But I said it. And I don’t take it back. You don’t have to say it back. I’m just… happy. So happy. And I wanted you to know. Okay?”

The back door creaks open. “Found any more—oop. Okay, I’ll, um. Bye.” Samira spins on her heel and disappears before the door even fully closes again.

You stare at Jack, totally unaware of the interruption, still stunned. There’s this moment suspended between you, like time is trying to decide whether to speed up or stop completely.

“Say the first part again,” you whisper.

He softens instantly. “What, the ‘I love you’?”

You nod.

“I love you,” he says.

You lean in and kiss him. And he kisses you back like it’s something he’s been meaning to do his whole life. Like now that he’s started, he doesn’t plan to stop. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he murmurs between kisses, each one soft and sure and just a little breathless.

You laugh, smiling against his mouth. “I think… maybe… we should head back out.”

He rests his forehead against yours, still catching his breath. “See? That’s why I love you. I need someone responsible in my life. Need me to bring anything out?”

“Yeah,” you grin. “The chips.”

“Got it. Love you,” he tosses over his shoulder as he heads for the back door, all ease and satisfaction.

You hesitate, just a second, then call after him.

“Hey… Jack.”

He turns, one hand already on the doorknob.

“I love you too.”

His grin spreads slow and wide — full, unfiltered, proud — and he winks like he just won something. 

“Yeah you do.”

The party winds down in a blur of campfire light and half-finished drinks.

Olivia and Shen are tucked in the corner, deep in conversation, completely oblivious to the fact that half the party is placing silent bets on when they’ll kiss. You’re tucked against Jack’s side on the patio couch, his arm around your shoulders, your knees pulled up and your head resting lightly against him. Your friends are chatting around you, the last embers of the fire pit glowing low.

Jack’s talking to Robby, low-voiced and relaxed, when you hear it. “Thought we were gonna have to wrap this thing up without you,” Robby teases. “Heard you were getting climbed like a tree in the kitchen.”

You tense, heat rising in your face. But Jack just squeezes your hip — gentle, grounding — and replies, cool as ever:

“What can I say? I’m in love.”

[viperwhispered]

Notes on Jamil's speech patterns

I was supposed to just pick out some examples of typical Jamil lines. How he speaks, the vocabulary he uses, things like that. Something I could easily refer to when writing to get the tone right.

But then it kinda blew up, oop – because it’s hard to talk about how a character speaks without also dipping into why they say whatever they say.

Plus then I wanted to get examples of Jamil in different moods, and could not resist some poignant things that were more related to his character or backstory rather than strictly the speech patterns themselves, so… It expanded a bit.

Anyways. Some things I noticed he tends to do:

Sighs (more than I realized)

Snarks

Tch (though could be a more general twst writing choice too)

Stutters when he’s flustered / embarrassed / caught of guard (what a cutie)

Goes ahem like an old man when he’s trying to get back on track in those off-kilter moments

Kinda formal with his manner of speech and choice of words (especially in servant mode) (I always worry I exaggerate this but he sure does do that)

But there’s still some animatedness with the way he emphasises words, for example

(so long-suffering and ready to bark out directions to Kalim oh boy - the way the directness just comes through when he loses it)

sugarcoating his opinions if he doesn’t feel like he can say them plainly (tyrant becomes rigorous, etc.)

sarcasm, sometimes with a side of deadpan, sometimes with a smirk

“Good grief” (another thing I didn't realize was that much of a catchphrase)

Very mild on the level of insults & swears honestly, (I mean, "drat"?) but I imagine this is more of a result of the game's rating (I guess for in-game reasons we can say he's been very conditioned by his upbringing)

I put the screenshots that seemed telling, and some related notes, on to a google sheet. That way one can filter and order it in various ways.

The sheet is probably best viewed on a computer or another larger screen, the screenshots might make it a bit difficult to navigate on mobile.

I did go in with the assumption that Jamil might speak differently pre-overblot (when the servant mask is firmly in place) and post-overblot (at least those occasions where he allows himself to be more honest). Like, there’s the sycophantic (as Leona calls it) flatterer, versus when Jamil’s honestly voicing his own thoughts. Which also shows in how I chose to categorize the screenshots.

Of course events are a bit wibbly wobbly in relation to the main story so can’t be placed in the timeline in the same way, but there are still those occasions where it seems you can tell the difference between the servant mask and a Jamil who’s not saying things just for the sake of appearances.

So, to explain the logic of the sheet:

First column has a screenshot of something Jamil says. The second two columns give the source.

The column for whether or not this happened before or after the overblot is only really used for main story things, since event stories are kinda murky timeline-wise.

Next is whether Jamil seems to be putting on the servant mask or speaking more honestly. This is where get more to interpretation territory, and I’ve not applied it to every screenshot (either because that didn’t seem like the relevant part for that line, or because I couldn’t tell).

The last column of the sheet is where we get most to my personal interpretations. So of course you might read these lines differently than I do, and that’s completely fine, these are simply the aspects that seemed poignant to me. Some notes are simply pointing out specific word choices or style of speech, others delve more into character analysis side of things.

Totally fine if you want to copy this file or modify it to your own needs. All I ask is that you don’t pass off anything I wrote as your own thoughts.

Order of lines is based purely on the order the pics were in my screenshots folder, so guess this is also an insight on the order I played things in, lol.

Tagging some jamil peeps in case y'all find this useful:

@crystallizsch @diodellet @moonyasnow @twstgo @lex752

@majestickitty @viperbunnies

[priintiisor]

hello i have no idea what to draw for today but the prompt is "echoes" so here!! have my echoes when they were alive designs that i ve been cooking up for like. a month at this point

i have no idea how ancients look but they are furries. to me.

(wall echo gets to be on the same photo as the downpour people because there s 10 of them total and having 6 in the first one and 4 in the second one annoys me- anyways)

also uhh i wrote a part of what they say next to most of them because i regularly forget which one of the echoes is which lol

be warned i rambled A LOT below

i have a lot of Thoughts about these guys because i am physically incapable of drawing a character without coming up with a bunch of lore for them- maybe i ll make another post with all my sketches of them (it s like half my sketchbook at this point) and tell you all my headcanons and worldbuilding that i pulled out of literally nowhere but for now here s some disjointed thoughts:

- generally i kind of tried to make their colors match the area they re in. though sometimes i just added stuff cuz i thought it looked cool

- chimney echo is my favorite echo so i designed them first and as such they ended up with the worst design. oops- i still love you chimney echo

- the details on these guys are sometimes meaningful and sometimes random shit i added lol, i m not very good at coming up with very detailed things

- yes some of them (most of them-) have bird legs and some of them have paws. i have Headcanons about the ancients. also in my head (and based on the karma paintings) they re covered in bandages and clothes are optional so. i tried to have fun with their clothes. yes some of them don t have pants. such is life

- they also have tails because I SAY SO

- farm arrays echo has no idea why they re here

- droplets has a fuckton of pearls because they deserve it

- oh yeah also i like to think (based on the fact that there s just random shit written on most of the white pearls) that these guys just carried pearls around to write down whatever they needed or with whatever information they needed to have on hand. i also had fun with hanging pearls off of them

- wall echo is Tall and Scary and he Scares me

- for the guys that i imagine would have lived after the iterators were built, i also drew their citizen drones because.. i always forget to draw sofanthiel and. justice for sofanthiel

- metropolis echo and bitter aerie echo have weapons because i like to think the anicents fought eachother, like for sport- metropolis echo because she s artificer in ancient form and bitter aerie echo because they re basically just a challenge and their dialogue is just "oh you actually got here, good job". idk it made sense in my head

- yes bitter aerie echo has a harpoon. that was my friends idea actually

- yes metropolis echo s drone is sofanthiel. i think it s funny. i told you she s just arti in ancient form to me

- 8 spots on a blind eye was born with really bad sight in one eye but they tell everyone they lost it in battle because that s cooler

- rhinestones beneath shattered glass is an insane cat lady and we love them

- yes some of them are related, yes the funny colored pieces of cloth have meaning, i WILL NOT get into it now

- pebble for scale <3 (i have my reasons to believe the ancients were giagantic. mostly the fact that their city is IMPOSSIBLE to get around without double jumps (see my post from 2 days ago) but also i just think it s cool. and really funny. i have no idea how they get through pipes)

thanks for reading my ramblings. reminder i could ramble more i ve been THINKING about these guys

[fatcathappycat]

10 Ace Attorney fics that made me >LOL<

(part 1)

Reading AA fanfics on Ao3 has been my 'go to' choice for self-care this past year. The following are works that literally made me either snort, giggle, cackle or laugh out loud. As usual, these are in no particular order, because creating a sense of order in life is an illusion, and fics are to be enjoyed and celebrated, not ranked ;p

1. Vocal Exercises by SapphireWine

Rating: G Words: 4,756 Read time: 20 mins

Phoenix has a secret talent!! I laughed out loud so hard at this story's climax, I think I hurt myself (the best kind of hurt ;) ). And like so many of SapphireWine's fics, the story is so sweet (new love getting to know each other) and crisp (that snappy dialogue!) and savory (mmmmm tasty Narumitsu). I wrote in my bookmark that this fic is a sweet little ol’ onion if onions were like apples maybe, and covered in feelings.

~≧◡≦~

2. Eureka Moment by Kantayra

Rating: T Words: 673 Read time: 5 mins

"Miles discovers that, to his embarrassment, he is just as much of a total dork in bed as he is in everything else." Ahem, ngl, this is now firmly established in my head canon. Kantayra is one of my 'go to' Narumitsu Master authors. They specialize in short, sharp and hilarious ficlets, and I highly recommend all their work. This author will show up again in my fic recs, guaranteed.

~≧◡≦~

3. A Collective Groan by Kantayra

Rating: E Words: 6,321 Read time: 30 min

"Miles prided himself on his self-control, or at least he would if only Phoenix would stop being so incurably Phoenix." OOP! See! I was (w)right, here is another one by Kantayra. In addition to being a Narumitsu Master, they are a freaking Pun Master! OMG the PUNS!!!! And the fact these are Mile’s weakness! I am so dang happy I found this author and this fic in particular. I'm laughing even as I'm typing this, remembering some of them.

~≧◡≦~

4. The Crushing Weight of Inevitability by Kantayra

Rating: E Words: 6,321 Read time: 30 min

And sorry, I can't help but slip in yet another gem by Kantayra! (Honestly, I might have to do a dedicated post on them in the future). "How Edgeworth applies for a job: smugly, confidently, remorselessly, and with plenty of snark." In the form of a heavily cited resume, this is another absolutely fantastic ‘pun fic’ from this fabulous creator.

~≧◡≦~

5. Worse than we could have imagined (2 part series) by hi_its_ellis

Rating: T Words: 5,813 Read time: 25 min

Our favourite idiots being, well, idiots. By yes, another one of the authors I consider a 'Narumitsu Master.' In the author's notes, they say "I intended this to be Really Soft and it turned out Really Stupid" I happen to love soft and stupid so there we go... but it also has heart, so there we go twice.

~≧◡≦~

6. Texts & Turnabouts by YanagiKana

Rating: T Words: 40K? Read time: 3 hours (?)

I love chat fics. They are such a fun character vehicle. This one is missing a few graphics but still really, really enjoyable and I hope this talented author comes back and gives us more. :)

~≧◡≦~

7. It Would Feel So Good To Make You Mine by hi_its_ellis, lowbatteryhealth

Rating: T Words: 54,615 Read time: 4 hours

I am the 590th bookmark for this epic tale from two of the most diabolically minded pair of Narumitsu Masters in the fandom, celebrating the most epic game of Gay Chicken ™️ ❤️🐔💙 Read and enjoy, you won’t be disappointed! I would also file this one under 'required reading for Narumitsu fanon'

~≧◡≦~

8. A Beginner's Guide on How Not to Write Steel Samurai Fanfiction by chameleonwrites

Rating: T Words: 16,058 Read time: 65 mins

"Verity Baytum, a court stenographer, has a secret passion for writing Steel Samurai fanfiction based around the pairing Magisteel. When she finds an unlikely source of inspiration during her job, she can't help but watch court proceedings in search of further lines that fit her fics."

"Yaaay!!!! Sooo much fun, just like the description implies! Very Ao3 and discord community vibes. Verity is a really likeable and charismatic Original Character and I would love to read more about her! - If you are craving more, I suggest a chaser of Kantayra's 'Court(ing) Record' ;)

~≧◡≦~

9. Twelfth night by zombiekittiez for Gheyn

Rating: T Words: 5,156 Read time: 20 mins

“Phoenix hand feeds him a berry, sweet and sun-warmed. Also, slightly crunchy from the sandy soil. Resigned, Miles chews and swallows. Three days in and he is already eating dirt.” Time-loop au comedy hijinks by another one of my 'go to' authors.

~≧◡≦~

10. Certifiably Yours (2 part series) by Gheyn

Rating: T Words: 5,156 Read time: 20 mins

If you like fics that reference the language of flowers, or how meticulous Miles is, this fic is for you. And I'm finishing strong here, folks. This 2-part series is LOL perfect! Tears! TEARS!! In my eyes from laughing so hard. So sweet! So romantic! So silly! So good. Hiiiiighly recommended. ❤️💙

~≧◡≦~

And that's it for another week! I hope you enjoy these as much as I have. For part 2 of this series, see AA LOL Fic Recs Part 2.

Do you have a favourite AA LOL fic? Please share in the comments! And THANK YOU!!!!! to all the incredibly wonderful punny, funny awesome authors cited here. I luuuuurve you!

❤️ ♥‿♥ ❤️

[dallonwrites]

[Felix was already out of bed at the end of the room, two records in his hands and an unlit cigarette in his mouth. And it felt more natural to stay quiet, hold onto that moment, to watch Felix in the familiar silence of his own space. To try and figure out his own place in it, drift onto the other side of Felix’s bed to feel how it holds him. Felix’s bedside table was neatly cluttered: an empty glass, the clock ticked close to ten, a copy of Giovanni’s Room with a receipt as a bookmark, a tunnelled candle; a Polaroid marked 1968 of himself and his sister on the hood of a car, a note from Dorothy about being gone until Monday, an emptied ashtray and a half-empty pack of gum; on an orange ceramic plate, the star-carved gold ring he wore last night, a pin of an angel perched on a heart, and a cluster of earrings he’d never seen Felix wear: a sun, a lightning bolt, a set of stars, a crescent moon, an aquamarine stud, a white rabbit.

Beau rested his head on his folded arms. Felix’s side of the bed was still warm. And it felt natural, surprisingly, to let his eyes droop closed again. But he wanted to stay awake, aware, wanted to watch the way the sun, cut by blinds, cast a choppy shadow of a tree branch on the wall. To gaze at the sunlight on Felix’s back when he walked over there to place record on player, imagine his hands in its place. The rest of the sun, hushed behind the blinds, kept everything in a quiet, glowy daze. The whole room was soaked in a Sunday kind of slowness.  

Quiet static and then, the opening lines to Killing Me Softly With His Song and then, Felix finally turned to face him. He smiled at Beau like this was all he had been waiting for, quickly discarded the cigarette on the ashtray, found his way back into bed and quickly laced himself to Beau’s side, face in the crook of his neck where, instead of good morning, he said, “Sundays are for Roberta Flack.”]

me when i got used to writing felix being obnoxious, annoying, confrontational, impulsive, angry, reckless, that i forgot he is also tender, considerate, full of more love than he knows what to do with, hopelessly designing beautiful moments so they’ll never go away etc

you folks ready for sunday morning beaulix?!!?!?

[phannie-elvis]

Phannie Census Update #3 (My Favorite Write-ins)

Phwoah dads, handing it over to the mod again!

Hi! As I said in my last update, Dan and Phil are right, we really are funnier than them lol. Reading all the write-in responses made me laugh so much, so I figured I should share some of my favorites. (If any of these are yours and you don't want them shared, just send me a message or an ask and I'll take it off the list!)

Total responses as of 3:00 PM 6/22/25: 1686!

(Questions 1 and 2 did not have write-in options)

3. What's your sexual/romantic orientation?

"Idk man i just work here", "🤷"

4. What's your gender?

"I am my own being that just looks cool as fuck", "formless blob" (can't believe I didn't think to include that as an option lol), "I’m whatever gender makes the joke land (in this case I am an evil mix of woman and man >:3)"

(Also, the google form is annoying for this one and only lets me see about half of the write-in responses, so sorry if you wrote something really funny and I didn't see it!)

5. What's your gender identity?

"confusing", ""cis" but specifically with the quotation marks", "Uuuuuuhhhhh", "None gender left beef", "¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

6. What was your assigned gender at birth?

"Italian", "Sadly they told me i was a female so oops they messed up", "MALE I SWEAR!!!! !111!!1! (lol female)"

7. What's your race/ethnicity?

"Unfortunately very white:-("

8. What's your age?

"69 joke im 18", "Gay"

(Questions 9 and 10 did not have write-in options)

11. Which of the 4 Gs of the Dan and Phil demographic are you?

"Gamers", "Girlfail", "Bisexual Communist Formless Blob 😂", also shout out to all the people who said they were girlies in vibes/for the joke even though they weren't actual girls

12. Did Dan make you trans/question your gender?

"HE MADE ME QUESTION IT ALL SO YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES", "Honestly no, but it's funny so I pretend like it was him", "yes he made me trans and my name is dan now lol"

(Question 13 had a write-in option, but none of the responses were really funny since it was just asking what year you joined the phandom. Questions 14 and 15 did not have a write-in option.)

16. Are you a dannie or a phillie? (with nuance)

"Currently a Phillie. It's 4AM, I have no nuances to give. Brain no work!!", "Golden piggie", "phil lester's mind is so beautiful i want to swim in it", "dan howell infests my brain like a little parasite", "please do no separate", "Porque no los dos, my comrade", "I vacillate back and forth so frequently im vibrating", "Im a child of phivorce who cannot choose which parent to go with :(",

(I also can't see all the responses for this one so apologies if you wrote something really funny and I didn't see it. One from memory that I can no longer see was: "Phillie born, phillie bred, and when I die, I'll be PHILLIE DEAD").

17. Are you some kind of mentally ill/neurodivergent?

"No im just simply a slaying human being (i am diagnosed mentally ill)", "Yes, not diagnosed but my therapist looks at me with concern", "yes. but o would like to undiagnosed and just be manic pixie dream girl pls :p", "Who really knows atp", "Never diagnosed but something ain’t right upstairs"

18. Specifically, are you autistic?

"Im dyspraxix autism and adhds love child", "prooobably?", "Probably but I have a job so I can’t worry about that right now", "not assessed but my doctor said i should be so like schrödinger’s autism"

19. If you identify as transmasc, do you consider Dan or Phil to be gender goals?

"Both merged into one big gay ball", "white boys? no", "I do not aspire to twinkdom but they are cute boys", "sister daniel I'm sORRY", "I would kill innocent people to have dan's profile"

20. What's your political orientation?

"Strict Doofenshmirtz politics. Whatever allows me to be a gay supervillain", "the gay one", "Oh god the world is burning"

21. Which is better, phyuri or phaoi?

"HOW DARE THY ASK ME TO PICK ONE THY IS EXTREMLY RUDE THY SHALL NOT EVER ASK ME TO PICK ONE AGAIN" (I would like to point out that "How dare you ask me to pick one?" was in fact an option, but this person felt so strongly that they felt the need to clarify beyond that lol), "um gulp??"

22. Are you a furry?

"currently going down the pipeline but not quite there yet", "I have rabbit tendencies….", "I wish but im broke and need to develop my art skills ill call myself a furry in training"

23. Do you think Sister Daniel is hot?

"UHM DO I HELL YEAH I DO THERE ONE SEXY MOTHERFUCKER", "So hot she needs a longer answer", "Sister Daniel is my gay awakening", "Once k get over religious trauma Yes", "she has the exact same mannerisms as my sister and it makes me wildly uncomfortable" (yikes sorry that is unfortunate), "Too asexual and too repulsed by the catholic church to really have any opinion tbh", "my boyfriend (catholic) loves her 😔", "Queer joy is death by sister daniel", "AWOOOOOOGAHUMMINAHUMMINA CARCRASH"

Also final shout out to the person who put the repeating "Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room with rats. And rats make me crazy." joke for every single write-in. It did make me laugh at first, even if it eventually got annoying (not that annoying though, no hard feelings), but I'm sure you had fun doing it lol.

Next week: I'll share what I'm planning for my full analysis! I'm probably going to stay away from complicated statistical tests that can help make generalizations about the population of phannies, since I don't know how well this spread beyond my normal circle of people on tumblr, but I'll share the questions I'm aiming to answer so far and my methods. If you have any other questions you think I could answer with the data, feel free to leave a reply on this update or next week's and I'll see if I can answer it in my final analysis!

Athankyouverymuch everyone!