#and I'm not gonna do anything else with it so. whatever. hit post

[lulu-draws-stuff]

Happy pride. low effort comic that isn't really anything 👍

[deoidesign]

What if I.

when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this

[astonmartinii]

knives out | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

2016 saw the murder of brocedes right before our very eyes, but who got y/n in the will?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 751,209 others

tagged: nicorosberg

yourusername: back in barcelona! nothing has ever happened here, right? RIGHT?

view all comments

user1: when i'm in a victim of brocedes contest and y/n rosberg turns up

user2: nico was like "oh, lewis has had a good qualifying... here comes the curse"

user3: he's the hater we should all aspire to be

nicorosberg: barcelona is a beautiful place but you should pick your company well!

yourusername: great advice nico, i should've left you at home

nicorosberg: snore! i'm great company you just can't keep up with my great personality and wit

yourusername: what ever you need to tell yourself old man

nicorosberg: i'm two years older than you?

yourusername: how was the industrial revolution?

user4: i hope they never grow up and always argue in public

user5: omg the argument on sky about lewis v seb in canada... and jenson just stood there with the biggest shit-eating grin ever

lewishamilton: my trauma is not your joke

yourusername: it was my trauma too i was the one who had to listen to him complain for the next TWO WEEKS

lewishamilton: trying to find where i care...

yourusername: you complained first ??

lewishamilton: rightly so!

yourusername: do not tussle with me about this, by now i thought you'd know that us rosbergs don't play about complaining

lewishamilton: believe me my therapist knows that

user6: i know nico sat on his hands forcing himself not to comment back

user7: alternatively, celebrating that he still lives in lewis' head

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 2,305,899 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: @yourusername i may love you but if that man ever takes a picture of my car i'm putting a hit on his head

view all comments

user11: we got a relationship reveal and a death threat all in one post

user12: lewis saw yall ready to make a brocedes edit using this race and made sure you knew that he doesn't care about a his old haunts

user13: he was like yall shipping me with the wrong rosberg

yourusername: let's refrain from threats for now

lewishamilton: we're gonna have to get rid of that last name, no more curses

nicorosberg: RIGHT THAT IS IT IF YOU DARE GET MARRIED DOUBLE-BARRELLED OR ELSE, ROSBERGS ARE ELITE AND YOU WISH YOU HAD THIS NAME

yourusername: he does have a point

lewishamilton: i'm for real going to lose my mind that we haven't spoken in years and this is where he drew the line

nicorosberg: you told the world you're dating my sister at the same time as me

lewishamilton: stop cursing me then 🤨

nicorosberg: i don't curse you my devilish good looks just sent your engine into cardiac arrest

user14: i know toto wolff just fell to his knees in the mercedes garage seeing them bicker in instagram comments after making merc a literal warzone for years

user15: and yet this is the most brocedes way to go about it

georgerussell63: even if you're dating his sister, i'm still your favourite teammate right?

yourusername: valterri exists buddy soz

georgerussell63: *clutches my pearls*

lewishamilton: and that is exactly why valterri is my favourite teammate

georgerussell63: whatever 💁🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc: not for long xx

yourusername: whoever can bring me the best coffee can get the crown?

lewishamilton: stop exploiting my teammate and future teammate

yourusername: that's what they're there for?

yourusername

liked by nicorosberg, maxverstappen1 and 823,087 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: anything happen this week?

view all comments

user19: y/n ruining her brother's week - anything happen this week?

user20: more like year

nicorosberg: more like life

yourusername: drama queen

nicorosberg: as i should be !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: got enough exclamation marks in there buddy

nicorosberg: no open the door i need to scream directly in your ears

yourusername: if it's any consolation, the relationship started after 2016

nicorosberg: so he got me out of the way so he could go for my little sister 🤨

lewishamilton: yep!

nicorosberg: no i'm serious let me in i need to yell

nicorosberg: I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE I CAN HEAR ROSCOE

nicorosberg: fine i'll just abseil from my apartment give me a sec

user21: y/n please let him in he's so serious about that i can feel it

user22: anyone from monaco here and want to keep us updated?

danielricciardo: Y/N LET HIM IN HE NEARLY KICKED MY POTTED PLANT OFF THE BALCONY

yourusername: lol

danielricciardo: THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER PLEASE

lewishamilton: fine, you people are such bores

nicorosberg: i nearly lost a birkenstock

yourusername: and my inheritance nearly doubled

lewishamilton: *our

user23: i think lewis is having way too much fun with this

nicorosberg

liked by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 692,889 others

tagged: yourusername

nicorosberg: we're back at the track and i've got a sneaking feeling that the red bull might be fast around here

view all comments

user24: nico said babe won't catch me posting lewis on my instagram

maxverstappen1: sure thing buddy he's dating your sister, but there's NO NEED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME

nicorosberg: i said you're going to win?

maxverstappen1: i DON'T NEED YOUR BAD JUJU GIVE IT TO LEWIS HE'S THE ONE YOU'RE ANGRY AT NOT ME

nicorosberg: i'm not angry at lewis

lewishamilton: really?

nicorosberg: OF COURSE NOT

yourusername: he'll get over it soon lewis don't worry

lewishamilton: really? he's still holding a grudge from 2016 - that was EIGHT YEARS AGO

yourusername: yeah sorry that's a rosberg trait ❤️

user25: not the grid becoming victims of the brocedes fall out eight years later

yourusername: you're so shady why did you crop lewis out?

nicorosberg: outfit wasn't on par with the rosbergs

yourusername: oh no

lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU

yourusername: you queens can take this out on each other i'm not getting involved in this one

lewishamilton: i know this birkenstock wearing primadonna is not dissing my custom mcqueen

nicorosberg: it's custom because no one would want something so ugly 🫶🏻

user26: someone take nico off the parc ferme interviews lewis might just run him over

user27: he should just let roscoe at his ankles

nicorosberg: that vegan dog can't do shit to me

yourusername: leave the kids out of it nico

nicorosberg: you birthed that? my condolences to your reproductive system

lewishamilton: DO NOT FAT SHAME MY SON

roscoelovescoco: kill yourself @nicorosberg

user28: WTF IS GOING ON

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, kimiantonelli and 2,844,599 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: he may have won the battle, but i won the war

view all comments

user29: bro you're going to be subjected to boho chic Christmases for the rest of your life

user30: guy is going to get poisoned via christmas nut roast by nico 😭

yourusername: this is corny but i love you

lewishamilton: i love you too i'm going to pretend you didn't just call my super thought out caption corny

yourusername: it was corny and that's what i love about you

nicorosberg: you need better standards

yourusername: for someone who had so much homoerotic tension with the man that you retired you're being very rude about the subject of such tension

nicorosberg: that's not how that went

yourusername: sure, jan

nicorosberg: stop trying to rewrite history

yourusername: i saw it with my own two eyes... are you jealous that i ended up with lewis instead of you?

nicorosberg: nO

user31: i feel like this is definitely not the argument i thought i would see on the internet today

user32: lewis hamilton got passed around the rosberg house ... this your goat?

user33: both rosbergs are hawt as hell so yes!

charles_leclerc: oh great, keep stoking the flames lewis! if you invoke his wrath upon ferrari next season i will personally sacrifice you to the gods

lewishamilton: excuse me?

charles_leclerc: i don't know if you know this but i kinda don't have a world championship yet ... I DO NOT WANT THE ROSBERG CURSE ATTACHED TO ME

lewishamilton: do not minimise my trauma charles

charles_leclerc: you haven't joined ferrari yet, you don't know trauma. be nice to him, i can't finish my career with max having more championships than me

maxverstappen1: skill issue

user34: do these people ever stop arguing?

yourusername: no! and i can assure you it's worse in person

user35: worst brocedes tussle since nico found out?

yourusername: i was making a list of people to invite to my birthday dinner and nico was angry that i wrote lewis' name before his

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,304,277 others

tagged: lewishamilton, nicorosberg

yourusername: still a victim of the brocedes nuclear fallout all these years later

view all comments

user37: bro nearly lost her bf to her brother

user38: lewis couldn't have nico and went for his sister instead

user39: insert larry stylinson theory here that y/n is just the beard and toto wolff is simon cowell

yourusername: i'm blocking all of you

nicorosberg: still yapping about this ... and i'm the dramatic one

yourusername: babe we can all see all of your comments on previous posts where you're the literal definition of crashing out

nicorosberg: BARCELONA WAS LEWIS' FAULT WE ALL KNOW THIS

yourusername: when did i bring up barcelona... you just proved my point IDIOT

nicorosberg: make me sound insane all you want ... TOTO IS THE REAL VILLAIN HERE

yourusername: ???

nicorosberg: he notebooked us

yourusername: riiiiiiiiiiight

nicorosberg: i wrote lewis a letter when i retired and toto never gave it to him

yourusername: you're telling me i had to hide my relationship for so long because you trusted that austrian big foot fraud to be your messenger pigeon ?

user40: did we just get insane brocedes lore on a random tuesday?

user41: you're telling me it was toto's fault the whole time?

lewishamilton: well yes it would've been helpful to have gotten the letter, you have to admit the sneeking around was hot

yourusername: you're right 🤭🤭🤭

lewishamilton: hiding in your bathroom while nico came over to bitch about me was a personal highlight

nicorosberg: excuse me?

lewishamilton: i know we're trying to be better, so here's a compliment: you're very creative when being mean about me

nicorosberg: why thank you 😝

yourusername: nuh uh we ain't doing this shit

lewishamilton: don't worry y/n you'll always be my favourite

nicorosberg: but you'll never have our trip to greece :P

yourusername: i will strangle you britney

user42: y/n got brocedes to talk again, but at what cost?

lewishamilton

liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc and 4,677,309 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: got y/n's hand in marriage in the will (after i murdered her brother's career)

view all comments

user43: y/n can't escape brocedes even on her engagement post

user44: she (and them) will never get rid of it

yourusername: i love you baby, here's to the rest of our life (even if that includes you arguing with my brother for the rest of time)

lewishamilton: i love you even more, i'd go through all of that psychological warfare again and again if it means i still end up with you

yourusername: we've always had an invisible string

lewishamilton: and there's no one else i'd want to be cosmically tied to <3

user45: i might cry they're so cute

user46: that comment thread called me single in about 100 different languages

charles_leclerc: congratulations you two! also congratulations to me - no more rosberg curse!

yourusername: really? on this POST?

charles_leclerc: hold on girlypop, it was mr hamilton-rosberg that brought up your brother first not me

lewishamilton: you better get all this attitude out now charles

charles_leclerc: what? you gonna marry my brother?

yourusername: lol i'm not threatened by them

arthurleclerc: why am i being shaded?

user47: 2025 HURRY THE FUCK UP

nicorosberg: i guess you're finally getting the rosberg name you've always wanted ...

lewishamilton: yes... i have always had a crush on your sister

nicorosberg: GASP! PERVERT 🫵🏻 i have known you since we were 12 you GROSS MAN

lewishamilton: WELL YES I WAS ALSO 12 I'VE NOT ALWAYS BEEN 36 MORON

yourusername: well doesn't this just get me excited for christmas

user48: i know a monopoly board hate to see these three coming

yourusername: @nicorosberg can i have an actual congratulations???

nicorosberg: i'm happy for you, i'm glad you're happy (also he's loaded so slay)

yourusername: i'll take it!

lewishamilton: sure whatever thanks nico !

fin.

note: lol finally finished this one! i have been very in and out on here, i have a lot going on x

[sematarygirls]

      BOYFRIEND!RAFE x DEPRESSED!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ depression, rafe gives reader a bath, but it's not sexual, fluff, the teeniest bit of angst if you squint at the beginning

NOTES .ᐟ this isn't my best work, but i'm writing it more for comfort than anything else, and i wanted to post it just in case anyone out there is also struggling and could use it <3

Something was up, and Rafe could tell. You were usually so clingy, wanting to spend every moment with him, and he was not complaining by any means. He loved having his girl at his side, showing her off at every occasion, but it had been almost two weeks since he last saw you, which was so very out of the ordinary.

You would answer his texts at first, always coming up with some excuse for why you couldn't see him. First, you were sick. He offered to come over and take care of you, but you'd insisted that you didn't want him to catch whatever you had, so he eventually acquiesced and settled on checking in on you periodically.

But then, your responses slowly became more and more infrequent. Rafe was at a loss. Had he done something to upset you? Why were you being so cold and distant? He couldn't think of any fights you two had recently. Everything seemed perfect until you started pulling away out of the blue.

He texted you to tell you he was coming over, but you hadn't seen it by the time he showed up at your house, all but pounding on the door. He was a little angry, very annoyed, and more than a bit jealous. Were you with some other guy in there? Is that why you hadn't been answering him.

Those feelings immediately dissipated, however, when the door slowly creaked open and you peeked out. Your hair was tangled and greasy, haphazardly thrown up and out of the way. You had dark circles under your eyes and a small frown on your face, your brows pinching when you saw him.

His expression softened as he softly murmured your name. You stepped back, allowing him inside, and he shut the door behind him, his eyes never leaving your disheveled form. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asked gently, approaching you like he would a skiddish animal.

"You shouldn't have come," you said quietly, your gaze downcast. You were embarrassed that he was seeing you like this. The whole reason you'd been avoiding him was so he wouldn't see this part of you—the part that struggled to get out of bed whenever a major depressive episode hit.

He ignored your words, stepping closer and tilting your chin up, so he could look at you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he coaxed softly. "Is this why you've been dodging my calls and texts?"

You nodded slowly, feeling guilty. You hadn't meant to ignore him, but texting people had become a chore as of late. You couldn't bring yourself to do it, to have to explain why you were acting so off. You just wanted to shut out the world and wallow in your misery.

He sighed, his thumbs coming up to caress your cheeks gently. He hated seeing you like this. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to take away all your sorrow and make you happy again. "Why didn't you tell me, baby?"

"I just- I didn't want you to see me like this," you said softly. "I look like shit. It's gross and pathetic..."

"Hey, don't say that shit about yourself, alright?" he said firmly. "You're beautiful, always, and you're not pathetic. You're going through a hard time and that's okay. I'm here for you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears at his words. He was so gentle, so understanding and patient. He was perfect, and you were... you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'm gonna run you a warm bath, okay? Gonna wash your hair and get you all cleaned up."

"You don't have to do that," you said quietly. You didn't want to be a burden, for him to feel like he had to take care of you just because you were dating.

"I know that, but I want to, alright? Just-Just let me take care of you, yeah?" He stared at you expectantly, waiting until you gave him a reluctant nod before he took your hand and pulled you toward the bathroom. "Sit," he ordered, pointing to the lowered toilet seat.

You complied, sitting and watching him as he turned the water on, testing the temperature with his hand and adjusting it until it was just the way he knew you liked it before he flipped the drain stopper. He poured in some of your favorite scented bubble bath, waiting for the water to fill the tub.

He turned back to you, kneeling down to take your hands in his. "Okay baby, let's get you undressed and in the tub, yeah? I'll wash your hair for you."

You chewed your lip nervously, looking at him with uncertainty. You were hardly in any shape to be perceived by anyone, let alone your perfect boyfriend. You couldnt remember the last time you shaved your body or did any personal grooming for that matter. You'd just been so physically and mentally drained as of late.

He cupped your cheek, gently using his thumb to pull your lower lip from your teeth. He hated when you did that, always saying you were ruining your pretty lips. "You're always gorgeous to me," he reassured you. "I don't care what you look like. Right now, I just wanna take care of my girl, alright?"

You hesitated but nodded. "Okay," you said softly. You knew he was just trying to help, and you also knew you desperately needed your hair washed before it reached the point of no return. You'd hated how bad you'd let it get, but you couldn't bring yourself to even attempt the attention and effort that detangling and washing would entail.

With careful movements, Rafe helped ease your shirt over your head, revealing your bare skin to his gaze. His expression was non judgemental, his touch reverent as he helped you out of your clothes. "You're doing so good, baby," he murmured, his words soothing the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach. "In you go," he said, once you were finally out of your dirty clothes.

You stepped into the warm bath, the hot water and calming smell helping you relax a fraction. You pulled your knees to your chest with a soft sigh. You were so sensitive and vulnerable in that moment, and Rafe's kindness made your chest tighten and your eyes mist.

He smiled softly at you, the picture of a loyal, caring boyfriend. He would do anything for you. "There you go, sweetheart. Gonna feel so much better after a nice long bath." He knelt beside the tub, running his hand over your hunched back soothingly for a few moments.

He let you get adjusted and relaxed before reaching for your hair tie, gently pulling it out and revealing your tangled hair. You closed your eyes, waiting for some remark about how you need to take better care of yourself or how your hair was a mess, but it never came. "Alright baby, let's get this pretty hair washed for you," was all he said, his tone soft and comforting. "Can you lean back for me?"

You nodded, unfurling yourself from your curled up position and leaning back, letting your hair soak up the water. "There you go," he murmured, making sure your hair was thoroughly wetted before helping you sit back up straight. He reached for the conditioner, coating your hair in an ungodly amount and running it through the strands as best he could to help soften your hair and make it easier to detangle before grabbing a wide tooth comb. "This might hurt a little, baby. I'm sorry, but you'll feel so much better when we're all done."

He worked meticulously, starting at the ends and slowly, carefully working out each knot and tangle, murmuring soft apologies whenever he hit a bad one that tugged at your scalp. He had experience with this kind of thing, having helped Wheezie with her hair a lot when she was a kid. He was so gentle and patient, making sure he didn't pull too hard.

It made you grateful because if you were doing this yourself, you already knew you would've gotten frustrated and started practically ripping your hair out as you roughly yanked the comb through your hair until you were in tears.

The fact that he regarded you with a tenderness and compassion you didn't even award yourself made your heart swell with love, but it also made guilt tug at you. This was the man that you'd been ignoring—this man that was so attentive and loved you so much.

"You're doing so good, baby. I know it hurts, but you're being so brave for me. I'm so proud of you," he said gently, continuing to work through your hair. He didn't show any signs that he was getting frustrated or annoyed, he just continued to hold himself with pure adoration and care for you.

His sweet words made tears well up in your eyes. You didn't understand how you could ever deserve someone like him, someone who loved you completely and unconditionally. His words of assurance were something you'd desperately needed to hear after weeks of listening to your own brain demean and demoralize you.

"There we go, sweetheart. All done. You did so well," he praised you gently as he finally finished up, running the comb through the last of the tangles. He helped you lean back, rinsing the conditioner. He made sure to get all the excess product out before helping you sit back up, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

He squirted a generous amount onto his palm, lathering it in his hands and applying it into your scalp. He washed it out and applied more until it started to froth up, signaling that your hair was finally getting clean.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly as he worked the shampoo into your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. You felt guilty for a lot of things, for ignoring him, for making him spend his time on you like this, for being this way in the first place. Your brain had convinced you that you were a burden on everyone around you, and you hated the thought of Rafe having to put up with you when he could have any other normal girl.

His hands stilled in your hair, and he tiled your head so you were looking at him. His expression was serious, deadly so, and for a moment, you thought he was mad at you. "Don't. Don't you ever apologize, okay? You've got absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You understand me?"

You nodded, his words and actions meaning more to you than he could ever know. He always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel better. He made you feel important and loved, and you needed that, especially right now. "Thank you."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile spreading across his handsome features. "You don't need to thank me, baby. Caring for you is the easiest thing in the world. I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes—so beautiful, inside and out."

After throughly massaging your scalp, he washed out the shampoo, applying a final layer of conditioner to ensure your hair stayed soft and retained moisture. "Do you wanna wash your body, or do you want me to?" He asked gently. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, and if you would be too embarrassed with him touching you like that, he respected it.

"I can- um- I can do it," you said quietly. He had already done so much for you already, and as much as you loved being doted on and cared for, it didn't erase the nerves and insecurity that were swirling through your mind.

"Okay, sweetheart. Take your time. I'm right here if you need anything at all," he reassured you. You washed up and rinsed the conditioner out of your hair, the water uncomfortably cold by the time you were done since detangling had taken forever.

Rafe was ready with a towel by the time you were finished. "Come on, baby, let's get you out. You're probably freezing," he said, helping you up and wrapping the towel around you, rubbing the material against your skin to help warm you up before grabbing a separate towel to help you dry off your hair.

You let him take care of you, drying you off before steering you to your bedroom to get dressed. He knew your drawer set up by heart, having helped you put your clean clothes away more than once. "You really don't have to do all that," you mumbled, watching him carefully choose some comfortable, clean clothes for you.

"I already told you that I want to," he said firmly, plucking out your favorite pajamas. "Now, we're gonna get you dressed and settle in on the couch because we gotta get you out of this bed. It's not good for you to stay in it all day," he told you, helping you into your clean clothes. You felt a little silly being assisted getting dressed and undressed, but you were so appreciative that he cared enough about you to help you like this.

"Sorry for the... mess," you said, wincing as you glanced around at your dirty room. It looked like a disaster area, and you only just now seemed to clock how bad it was.

"I already told you to quit apologizing," he gently scolded you. "We can clean it up later, together, but right now, we're going to go watch some TV and get some food in you, okay?"

You nodded, mustering a small smile. "I love you, Rafe," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

"I love you too, baby, so so much," he murmured. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You inhaled his scent, a smell that was distinctly his and always seemed to calm and relax you, his tight grip on you serving to ground you in that moment, reminding you that there are people who cherish you even in your darkest days.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif

[pomefioredove]

Hey Dove~

I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.

You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!

OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference

twst x mute reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment

summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it

he's not one to criticize strangeness

that would be rude, first of all

second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC

(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)

he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either

he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six

he's certainly patient

and he knows how to use context

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?

for a while, he just thought you talked fast

he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself

no biggie

then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...

...oh! no!

of course he's not annoyed!

Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it

you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything

he just watches you talk

and smiles

like this -> :)

it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...

observing

humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks

he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you

which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...

he teaches himself your language

and he becomes a sort of translator for you

any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it

weird, but nice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems

whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him

it's not his job to worry over you

then, you come to him asking for help, and...

...well, he's flattered

he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else

because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you

whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?

perhaps, but it's true

he's mastered the art of observation

he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away

he just knows

you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook

(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)

and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything

you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little

only in good fun, of course

and only if you respond in kind

but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words

he won't correct you or interrupt you, either

he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable

he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though

he cares <3

[castiwls]

motel girl

Paring; older!patrick x female!reader

Summary; the last thing you should be doing as a collage student working a shitty motel job was being charmed by the washed up 30 something year old tennis player into giving him a free room - never mind agreeing to join him in said room

warnings; porn with a small plot, age gap (patricks early 30s & reader is early 20s), drinking, orgasm denial, dry humping, thigh riding, biting (kinda?), dirty talk (Patrick says good girl once), fem!reader (sorry) - anything I missed let me know!

Notes; maybe the freakiest thing i've written em kinda scared to post this🥲 also way longer then I intended I was gonna make this a bot but I'm not sure.

Masterlist

"I can get you the money at the end of the week."

You should've realised then and there that he was bad news. If the way he'd suddenly come onto you the minute his card declined wasn't a big enough flag, his ego the size of the sun should have had you kicking him out to the streets.

Yet, somehow, Patrick Zweig had charmed you into giving him a room at a motel you'd rather never be in past your work hours and as a result, you'd found yourself hanging around said motel way after your shift was over.

He was far from the first older man to try and hit on you for whatever they needed. Fresh towels, free food, a free room for the night, the list could go on.

Yet Patrick was the first remotely active man to work his charm on you.

You hated the fact it worked.

"Hey. You finish soon, right?" He leaned over the counter, his eyes staring unshamedly at your chest as you glanced up from the laptop. "You got the money yet?" He grinned, "No," He leaned slightly closer, his grin only growing. "I won my match. Still in the game."

"Shouldn't you be out celebrating?"

"You're the only person I know in this town."

He was bold. You'd give him that. "You don't know me." Patrick hummed, considering for a moment. "I know your name...and I know you get off soon."

Patrick watched his amusement only growing at the sight of your annoyance. Fuck Art and Tashi. Fuck the challenger, you were way more intresting.

"You have no money-"

"I have enough to make it worth your time."

------

You shouldn't be here.

You should have known it was a bad idea to go to the washed up tennis players motel room at 12am when you should have been anywhere else.

Forget the fact he must have been in his 30s at least and you had a collage class on Monday morning, you should have known there was no way this could end well.

The beer had helped. You'd at least managed to relax enough to spread out on the old bed while he watched from the floor, his eyes following your every movement like you were some sort of partictiarlly interesting bug he'd spotted.

"So you just spend your time playing? Doesn't it get boring?" You'd shifted, your head lying at the bottom of the bed as you watched him nurse his first beer.

"Pretty much." He nodded his face pinching slightly. "Its not boring-"

"You hit a ball with a racket."

Patrick huffed. "There's more to it then that." He trailed off staring at the wall as his fingers tapped agsint the old carpet. "If you play it with someone you know its more..."

Your lips pursed, noting the shift in atmosphere. "Oh..."

He nodded before it was like a switch flicked, and his lips pulled back into a grin. "You should come watch. Maybe you'll see it's more than just hitting a ball." You smiled slightly at the offer. "You're inviting me to watch?"

He nodded, taking a sip. "Why not? You got anything better to do? A boyfriend?" His lips curled at the face you pulled. He laughed as you shook your head, just a bit too quickly.

"No? No boyfriend or no watching?"

"No-No boyfriend." You mumbled, cringing slightly at the egurness in your voice. "-but sure. I'm not working on the day I'll come."

He smiled then, a proper one, and you felt your heart skip almost. Fuck this.

You both fell quiet, you still watching as he stood, stretching before placing the can on the dresser and approaching. Your breath caught as he was suddenly looming over you, his body being the only thing in your vision.

"I should...I should go." You swallowed, shifting to sit. As you turned, he moved with you, stepping into the space between your legs as they hit the ground. "Wait a minute-" His fingers, rough and calloused, brushed over your cheek, pausing over your lower lip for a minute.

You could feel your palms begin to sweat as you fisted a hand into the sheet. Neither of you said a word, his thumb pushing against your lip lightly.

The room seemed eerily quiet as his eyes searched your face for any hint of displeasure. Patrick's eyes met yours in a silent question.

'Do you want this to?'

The slightest movement of your head, and his lips were crashing into yours, his hand slipping to cup your jaw, the kiss messy and unpracticed. It was pure need as you pressed closer your own hand fisting in his hair pulling a quiet noise from his throat.

Your own lips parted in surprise when his teeth nipped at your lip. He deepened the kiss, pressing a knee to the bed as his other hand cupped the back of your neck, almost like he was scared you'd disappear.

Patrick pressed forward, the two of you moving in sync as you shifted back onto your knees, allowing him the space to climb onto the bed. You gasped when he pulled back, air suddenly filling your lungs as his lips pressed to your cheek before moving down to your neck.

"Off," He murmured against the skin of your neck, tugging at your top. He pulled back just enough for you to throw your top somewhere before he was tugging you into his lap, his teeth nipping at the skin of your chest.

You could hardly hold back the gasp which tumbled from your throat at the feel of his lips on your skin, his hips slowly beginning to rock up against yours as you felt him harden in the confines of his jeans.

Your hands were clumsy as you tugged at the button of his jeans. "No. Not yet." One of Patrick's hands closed over yours, guiding them away and behind your back.

He held them there for a moment, grinning at your whine. "Already so needy-" His teeth bit down against the skin of your neck before he pulled away, his eyes blown with hunger. "-so perfect." His free hand unhooked your bra with surprising efficiency, letting your hands go for just enough to tug it down and away before he was flipping you both over.

"Patrick," His name fell from your lips as he pressed your hands to the pillow, his eyes dark as he hummed. "I said I'd make it worth your time-" His lips met yours again, the kiss hungrier this time.

He was like a man starved, your teeth clashing as he pressed your hands further into the pillow. "-Let. me." He barely pulled back long enough to get the words out before he was kissing you breathless again, his knee pressing between your legs as your hips rolled on instinct.

You gasped, pleasure running through you at the sudden friction. Your hips rolled again, a whimper leaving you as he pulled back his lips pressing to your jaw once more before he pulled back to watch you properly.

His knee pressed up more, amusement flashing in his eyes at the way your cheeks heated as a quiet moan left your lips. "Good?" He questioned as you nodded your head.

"Ah. Use your words."

He was going to be the death of you. White hot pleasure ran through you at his tone, your eyes widening as another moan fell from your lips. "S'good. So good - Patrick-" He hummed in satisfaction, his hand letting go of your wrists to brace himself on the bed as his head dipped down.

"Good girl."

He barely gave you a second to breathe before his tongue was tracing around one of your nipples, the feeling combined with the friction between your legs short-circuiting your brain for a moment.

If you'd been in a clearer head space, you'd have been embarrassed by the sound that left your lips, but you were past caring. You whimpered when his teeth grazed the peak before he moved onto the other side, giving equal attention.

"Patrick, I-" Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt your pleasure slowly reach that peak. The feel of his lips combined with the friction between your legs pushes you closer and closer to that mind-bending edge.

It was so close you could almost taste it, his name falling from your lips between whimpers and moans. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back arching - one more second and-

"Wha-" Your eyes shot open when his leg disappeared, his face coming back into view with a wide grin.

That fucker.

His lips pressed to yours again, silencing your complaints as you felt him smile. "You're cruel." He laughed, his fingers brushing away the hair stuck to your forehead.

"Why?"

"I gotta make sure you come to that match somehow?" Patrick shifted, his fingers tracing over a mark on your neck. "You come and I win again tomorrow," His fingers drifted down your neck to gently tip your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I'll give you whatever you want."

He knew he had you. He'd given you a taste of what he could do. Just enough to make you stick around.

You prayed he won that stupid match.

[nonsscrapheap]

TFP: Universal Observation

i cracked, i caved underneath my own pressure and impulse HAVE THIS REACTION FIC OF TEAM PRIME LOOKING INTO ALTERNATE UNIVERSES! i'm gonna test this out on tumblr in an effort to be more active here.

this is mostly going to focus around Raf, Miko and Jack btw! at least at the start. also! this is set around mid-season 1, when Arachnid arrives at the Nemesis.

WARNING! LONG POST!

Prologue: Shattered Glass - I -

[ ----- TFP : UO ----- ]

Omega Outpost One

It started out as a normal day, a normal weekend, spend some time with his mom in the morning before heading to the Autobot base after insisting that he would be okay there. Jack was just glad that she didn't do anymore impromptu visits to the outpost anymore, and that she was trusting Arcee with his safety without hovering.

Look, he loved his mom and he did still feel a bit guilty over the whole Arachnid situation but still, her concern was getting a bit too much. Even for him.

Anyway, as he and Arcee pulled into the base, he found the others already there and gathered around something perched on the second floor area. "Hey guys, what's up?" He greeted aloud as he got off Arcee, giving her his helmet after she transformed for safekeeping.

"Welcome back Jack, Arcee." Optimus greeted back with a stoic warmness that Jack didn't know possible.

"What's with the crowd?" Arcee asked curiously as she and Jack stepped closer, with Jack bounding up the steps to join Miko and Raf on the second floor. There, on the second floor, was a silver and gold sphere with curved glyphs wrapped around it. It was nearly the size of Raf, only stopping at the boy's chest height. "Uh, what is that?"

Bulkhead shrugged, "Dunno, Ratchet found it in storage but we don't remember it being stored there. Like, ever."

Jack frowned, staring at the sphere warily, "Could it be a trap?" He couldn't help but ask, bristling when Miko just casually placed a hand on the sphere. "Miko!"

"What?! Raf and I already touched it before! So have the others! It does nothing!" Miko exclaimed, patting the silver and gold sphere, making a clanging noise as she did so.

Ratchet grumbled, giving the girl a look of intense disapproval. "Nothing so far. We still don't know what it's supposed to be or how it got into the base. And before anyone suggests, no, we did not forget about it. We catalogued every single Cybertronian item that we brought into this base, before and after we moved here, and I am certain that something like this would be remembered." He huffed, arms crossed against his chassis. "However so far, all scans shows it being... inert. Deactivated, with no clear instructions or signs on how to activate it." He glanced over to the Prime who shook his helm.

"My apologies old friend, I have searched through my memories and data files, but I have no knowledge as to what this artifact is. Or what it can do." Optimus replied with slight apology, though he did look back to the sphere, watching Raf, Jack and Miko hesitantly (Miko wasn't hesitant at all) poke and prod the sphere. "But I do recognize the glyphs on the sphere, it is Primal Vernacular. The old tongue of the Primes of Cybertron."

.: So it's a Prime relic or an artifact related to it? :. Bumblebee beeped in question. .: What does it say? :.

"It says, 'See for yourself, what else is out there.'" The Autobot leader answered, intrigued yet perplexed by the sphere's mystery. "Again, I do not know what that means per say, nor do I remember anything resembling this artifact anywhere."

"Well, whatever it is, it's currently broken." Miko said with a huff, still patting the sphere before curling her hand into a fist. "Or maybe we're not hitting it hard enough! Do something already! It's been so boring today!" She exclaimed, banging her fist.

"Miko!" Jack, Bulkhead and Ratchet exclaimed in varying tones of worry and frustration.

Miko gave each of them a deadpanned look as she, Raf and Jack continued to press their palms to the sphere for some reason. It was just warm and weird to touch, alright? "What? It's not like I'll shatter it! It's not made of glass!"

Suddenly, the sphere began to glow.

Immediately, the humans let go of the sphere, backing away with a startled cry. The Autobots were quick to retrieve their charges and step away from the glowing sphere. Light shined out of the glyphs before shooting into the air to... project a holographic screen?

Words began to flash along the screen, first in Primal Vernacular, then in Neocybex, and finally in English.

[ CONTINUITY SCAN 100 % COMPLETE SUBJECTS ' Raf ; Jack ; Miko ' COMPONENT ACCEPTED UNKNOWN ATTEMPTS GENERATED PASSCODE 'BORING' HAS BEEN ACCEPTED KEY WORDS ; SHATTERED GLASS ACCEPTED ]

"What's happening?!" Raf clutched Bee's hands as his guardian held him close, tense and ready for whatever would happen. It was the same for Miko and Jack who were being held up by Bulkhead and Arcee respectively. Ratchet and Optimus stood before the three bots, ready to fight if necessary.

Fortunately, they didn't have to.

The holographic screen merely stayed there in the air, the text being wiped away for new ones.

[ PROCEED WITH UNIVERSAL OBSERVATION? ACCEPT / DECLINE ]

"What?" Ratchet uttered as he and the others slowly relaxed, enough that the three Autobots slowly put down their human charges. "Universal observation? What on Cybertron could that possibly mean?"

"I... do not know, old friend." Optimus murmured, eyeing the screen with a wary optic.

"If... If it's an 'observation' thing then, maybe it's harmless?" Jack suggested, peeking up at the screen with a look of apprehension. Then he spotted Miko's look of interest, and the smile on her face. "Miko... Miko no!" He exclaimed, trying to reach her but unfortunately for Jack, he was too late. She'd been set a bit too far from him.

"ACCEPT!" The teenage girl shouted just as Jack reached her a second too late, startling everyone and immediately the screen came to life.

"MIKO!" Multiple voices exclaimed in varying tones of exasperation and frustration. Miko merely grinned from behind Jack's hand before her eyes widened and she pointed at the screen.

"MMPH! MM-" She forced Jack's hand off her mouth, "LOOK!"

[ Two humans ran through the halls of a familiar looking ship. The colors a little bit brighter though. ]

"It's Raf and I!" They all boggled at the sight of it. "Why are we on the Nemesis?"

"Wait, when did this happen?" Jack squinted, wondering why Raf and Miko were on the Nemesis, hell, why was the sphere showing this?

"It didn't! Miko and I never ran together on the Nemesis." Raf said, adjusting his glasses as he watched him and Miko on screen run through the halls.

"Why do the halls look a little different? More..." Bulkhead squinted, "... brighter?"

"More importantly, why are running and why do they look excited?" Ratchet questioned stiffly, wondering what in the pit was going on.

[ "Oh chiiildren~" A feminine voice playfully rang out in the hallway, almost familiar rapid, multiple pedesteps sounded out. "Where aare youuu~?"

Miko and Raf shared a look, "Split up!" She whisper yelled to Raf who giggled and ran the opposite direction. ]

Arcee immediately tensed, "Arachnid!" She hissed with contempt, recognizing that voice anywhere. And yet, she paused with confusion. Unlike the usual sultry maliciousness in her voice, she sounded... genuinely playful, and soft almost. It made Arcee shiver with unease.

"Arachnid?! Miko, Raf, get out of there!" Jack urged the screen-version of his friends even though they couldn't hear him.

"Woah Jack! Raf and I are here! We're fine!" Miko soothed, though she did look concerned for her screen counterpart. But even she noticed that screen!Miko and Raf weren't really scared? They really just looked excited, of all things. But why? 

[ Miko ducked around the corner, pressing against the wall so she could catch her breath. She huffed, trying to keep herself quiet. She peeked around the corner, eyes squinting. When she spots nothing, she sighs in relief, grinning to herself before she hears a sound coming from above. She looks up and gasps, abruptly, she's snatched upwards.

Meanwhile, Raf was still running in the halls of the ship and just as he turns, he stops as he finds a familiar mech standing in the hall. "Starscream!" Raf exclaimed with delight, reaching his arms up, "Quick, hide me!" ] 

There's a cry of her name, much different from usual- panicked and scared and Miko yelps as she finds herself in Bulkhead's hands once again. The wrecker looking so very concerned for her, "Uh- Bulk? I'm fine! I'm here! I'm- screen Miko's definitely fine! Bulk?" 

Raf gave the screen a bewildered look before he too, yelped when he found himself being lifted up by Bee just like Miko. "Bumblebee!" His friend let out a protective, panicked beep, "Bee?" 

"Starscream?" Arcee repeated incredulously, having been on edge the moment screen!Miko had disappeared. "That's- that cannot be Starscream."

The Starscream on the screen's grey metal was lighter, his wings were folded downwards, there were red and blue detailing that the Starscream they knew didn't have. Not to mention he wasn't hunched over and his optics, they were blue instead of red. The most damning of all though, was the gentle look the seeker had that replaced his usually malicious and scheming expression. 

"I… believe it is." Optimus murmured with slight disbelief, watching how the young human on the screen seemed to treat that Starscream with friendly familiarity. "I do not think it is our Starscream however." 

[ "Hide you?" Starscream mused aloud, "Ah, another game, Rafael? Very well." He knelt down, letting Raf climb onto his servos and opened his cockpit, letting the human settle into the space before gently closing it. "Alright in there?" He asked with amusement and chuckled when Raf replied with a muffled 'yes!' ] 

"Definitely not our Starscream, he would never let a human into his cockpit like that." Ratchet agreed, watching the scene with a nervous tank and a boggled expression. Trying to understand what exactly was happening right now. "This… This is an alternate world." 

They all turned to the medic. "What?"

[ Pedesteps came, alongside the joined laughter of two females. The screen showed Arachnid in her root mode, toting around Miko on her shoulder, servos firmly yet carefully holding on. Miko was laughing as the spider bot jostled her two and fro. "Starscream!" Arachnid called out happily, smiling widely at the seeker. "I don't suppose you've seen Raf, have you?" 

"Hmm, Rafael?" Starscream replied with clear jest, "Perhaps…" His optics not so subtly looked down to his cockpit. Arachnid noticed and smiled mischievously. ]

Arcee was staring at the screen with warring emotions, firstmost was anger and disgust at the sight of the spider femme and then there was confusion at the sight of the fact this Arachnid was different. Not only in looks, her optics were a cyan blue instead of purplish pink, her finish was a dark yet cooler hue of blue with bronze trims instead of gold. But in personality of course, she was handling screen!Miko with obvious care despite having the human girl on her shoulder. And her voice, it was soft as silk, not sultry and had no hidden menace.

Add into the fact Starscream was being equally differnet—

It was a fragging jarring thing to witness, even through a holographic screen. Arcee felt faint. 

Ratchet, was thankfully, just as perturbed as he gestured to the screen. "This is- this is showing us a glimpse into an alternate world. One where the Decepticons are- well, that." 

[ "Now, where oh where could Raf be? He couldn't have gotten far, his legs are, unfortunately, too short." Arachnid mused slowly, snickering at the muffled 'hey!' that was heard from Starscream's cockpit. Not long an 'oops' was heard as Arachnid leaned closer to Starscream, faceplate by the cockpit. "Gotcha. Starscream, if you would?" 

"No Screamy! Take Raf and run!" Miko hollered with a laugh, squirming on Arachnid's shoulder. 

Starscream laughed, shaking his helm. "Perhaps another time, I do still have duties to fulfill. My apologies Rafael." He opened the pit and gently took the pouting tween out. It didn't last long as Arachnid took him as well, setting him to sit properly on her other shoulder unlike Miko, who hung like a sack. "Hm, that's two humans accounted for. Where is Jackson?" ] 

"Primus that is so fragging weird." Bulkhead hissed, still holding on to Miko protectively, but eventually relented when the girl squirmed and scrambled towards his shoulder. He gave in and let her sit there. 

"I know! Looks like the cons are the good guys over there! So weird!" Miko exclaimed, legs swinging as she watched herself call Starscream 'Screamy' and not get obliterated by the con. 

.: … Starscream calls Raf, Rafael like Ratchet… And calls Jack, Jackson- he sounds like a fraggin' gentlemech. :. Bumblebee whirred, scratching his helm while settling Raf on his own shoulder. He glanced over to Jack who had the same look as Arcee, staring incomprehensibly at the screen. Which was fair, the two times he met with Arachnid were horrible but here she was- different on screen in another world. 

[ "Jack's with King Con! Talking about Cybertron again." Miko huffed, wiggling in Arachnid's grip. The femme finally relented, letting the teenage girl down to the floor. She groaned, stretching her limbs. 

Starscream frowned, "Miko, you know he doesn't like being called that." 

Miko pouted, "Aw, but he's like- all wise and stuff! And he leads the Decepticons- plus, you all told us if it wasn't for Optimus and his evil Autobots, he'd be like, ruling Cybertron." 

"In charge of Cybertron, not ruling it. Never ruling it- he hates the word and thought of it." Arachnid corrected gently. "It's why he never chose a Prime name, merely shortened his gladiatorial name to Megatron. He hates being addressed by any other title aside from General." 

The scene changes to Megatron, standing at the control center with Jack on the console. Pictures of Cybertron in its golden age were on the screens, the silver mech had a gentle smile on his face as Jack looked around with wonder. ]

There's a silence in the Autobot base from the scene. "This is a world where good and evil have been switched." Optimus whispered, his usually warm stoicism broken into disbelief, optics widening as he sees such a familiar faceplate. "Megatronus…" He utters, spark aching in his chamber at the familiar-looking mech. 

He looked so much like the Megatronus he once knew, only older, slightly different but his optics were blue as can be and his servo digits weren't sharpened into claws. And that smile, when had been the last time he'd seen it? Before the council meeting? Longer? 

[ "And this… This was my home city, Kaon." Megatron told Jack as the pictures flickered to Kaon. "It was not the friendliest of capitals, far from it, it was where the ruthless tore into the weak. Kindness was rare, especially in the Pits from where I fought." 

"You mentioned that before, the Pits. It was… a gladiator arena, right?" Jack questioned as the pictures changed again. The human carefully walked along the console, aware of the bigger mech that shadowed him, as if to make sure he wouldn't fall. 

"Indeed, glad to know you've been paying attention, young one." Megatron chuckled, "It was named after the Cybertronian version of what you humans would call 'Hell', and quite honestly, it was. I struggled to survive in the Pits, but I did. I found strength, I found power, and most importantly; I found kindness." 

The human frowned, looking at him with confusion. "I thought you said it was rare?" 

"It was, but not nonexistent. Kindness exists everywhere, Jack. Even the smallest of acts might sway or influence another. Sometimes, even creating a cascade of events that escalate into something more." Megatron murmurs, sounding nostalgic, fond yet also somber. "In all the time I've lived, Jack, I've realized many things. I've realized that strength is not everything, that weakness is subjective, that kindness is not weakness and that there is a difference from being nice, to being kind." ]

Hearing this Megatron talk made Optimus feel weak. His voice was so similar, but without the roughened edge of anger-fueled war tingeing his vocals. The growl of rage and slight hint of madness. It was so gentle and warm and wise— A strange sort of feeling that permeated his processor, numbly, he could hear the quiet reactions of the others. Varying from disbelief to outright confused shock. It was understandable, they've never seen this side of Megatronus. This side of Megatron. 

Primus, his words too. 

"Scrap, he's reminding me so much of Optimus but so different, it's weird." He hears Jack mutter and there's a hesitant agreement coming from all around him. 

[ Before Megatron could continue, a warning came to the screens. Startling both of them. "Woah!" Jack almost stepped off the console, but was caught and saved by Megatron who gently settled him to the floor.

"It's a Decepticon distress signal." Megatron said tensely, "Everyone, get to the command center. Now." He said aloud and into the comms. 

It didn't take long for the other Decepticons to arrive. ]

It was bizarre, to see the line up of Decepticons in different colors and all with blue optics, with the exception of Knock Out whose optics were a darker orange here.

Breakdown looked very different, his armor was red, his optics an icy blue and his faceplate a purplish grey tint- surprisingly, he had screen!Miko on his shoulder. Trailing behind him was Knock Out, instead of a bright red finish, the medic was cyan.

Right beside them was Soundwave, who was painted in a very faint purple with light green biolights. He still had a visor covering his faceplate. 

"Woah…" Raf muttered, eyeing the Decepticons from Bee's shoulder. "It's- they all look so different, at first glance it's just the colors and even that is enough to feel- jarring?" Bee made a beep of agreement, nodding to his words.

[ "Signal Origins; Makeshift." Soundwave immediately said, a worried emoticon appearing on his visor- voice synthesized but understandable. "Location coordinates attached." 

"Makeshift? Who's that?" Raf asked as Soundwave picked him up. ]

Bee tensed at the sight of Soundwave picking screen!Raf up, .: I-I know this is supposed to be an alternate world but- :. Primus, was that Soundwave's actual voice?! 

"I know Bumblebee, it's- it's weird. Downright disturbing." Arcee agreed, still looking a bit nauseous at the sight of Arachnid, of the Decepticons alongside the humans on the screen. Even though, they seemed… good. Frag, Optimus' words echoed in her processor, 'good swapped with evil' naturally that meant… oh frag.

[ "An old friend." Knock Out said as he and Soundwave went to the console to locate the distress signal. "He's been away for a while because he wanted to explore Earth on his own. This was before the Autobots managed to follow us here."

"I ordered him to stay away after the Autobots arrived, I wanted to keep him as a hidden operative. You see, Makeshift has a unique ability, he is a Shifter, a Cybertronian capable of turning into another Cybertronian- copying their frame, their looks, even their voice. Makeshift is one of my best stealth agents." Megatron explained with a tense frown. "He is a hardy mech, for him to use a distress signal…"

"Situation; grim." Soundwave finished. 

"Starscream, prepare the groundbridge at those exact coordinates. Knock Out, Breakdown and I shall be going through." ]

[---- TFP : UO -----]

The Nemesis

"I cannot believe my other would let a human inside his pit! Inconceivable!"

"Teal? Teal? Ugh, I mean, it's not a bad look but red is so my color!" Knock Out complained to Breakdown who didn't look too impressed, though he was too busy looking at himself on the screen.

"Can't believe I've got Bulkhead's human pet as my own. Guess Arachnid was just babysitting." At the mention of her name, the spiderbot hissed at Breakdown, annoyed and perturbed by her on-screen self. So gentle, so weak- thankfully she wasn't the only one disturbed by their alternate selves.

"And there's still no information as to how this thing got on my ship? Or how it activated on its own?!" Megatron growled to Starscream and Soundwave but his optics were trained solely at the screen. Taking in just how… different he was in another universe. The implications he's gotten so far… were abhorrent. Yet intriguing. 

"N-No! Master, we have- we have no idea how either happened." 

Soundwave said nothing, but did bring up a picture of a certain text.

[ CONTINUITY SCAN 100 % COMPLETE SUBJECTS ' Raf ; Jack ; Miko ' COMPONENT ACCEPTED UNKNOWN ATTEMPTS GENERATED PASSCODE 'BORING' HAS BEEN ACCEPTED KEY WORDS ; SHATTERED GLASS ACCEPTED ]

Before showing the picture of a certain trio of human children. 

"The Autobot pet humans? Hm…"

Megatron trailed off, optics shining sharply when the screen continued.

This was… interesting to say the least.

[----- TFP : UO -----]

shattered glass designs inspired by @jealousmarquis

winged it for breakdown's colors tbh. also, i was a bit confused on knock out's color scheme from jealousmarquis' pictures, one seemed a lighter blue like teal while the other was a darker blue- for now i settled on teal with thinking maybe knock out liked changing the shades of his finish. idk.

i have no idea when the next part will come but i've definitely a few ideas on what else for team prime (and cons) to react to next! but first, gotta finish the shattered glass segment. the next one will be the last of it (for now).

EDIT 1/16/25: jealousmarquis described their sg breakdown design so i edited it accordingly.

[NEXT]

[stupidlittlespirit]

glad you’re feeling better!

would you be comfortable sharing a sneak peek of the next chapter 👀

if not I totally understand please prioritize your well being!

Listen, I don't have a chapter sneak peak for you BUT..... because I'm making you all wait so long for this next chapter and I feel bad, I'm gonna give you a small snack.

This is an unpublished thingy that I posted on a little discord server that I'm in and people liked it there so I figured you might enjoy it here. It is just a very short warm-up drabble that I did ages ago and never used again. It's a bit messy and stuff, but whatever. It's set during MtB but it isn't really anything to do with the series. Just a little snippet of life within it:

I Got It Bad (and that ain't good) Rating: NSFW (only slightly) Type: Drabble Tags: Kissing, implied sexual stuff. Very, very tiny inference to muses but meant in no certain way. No pronouns/body described. Word count: 1233

When he's feeling contemplative, Ford likes to play the piano.

He is, like so many other things he turns his attention to, wonderful at it. 

Ford likes jazz. He pretends he's a classical purist but you've found the record sleeves on the shelves near his desk, you’ve done a little snooping, and you know they rarely correspond to the vinyl inside. They're just for show. He plays it mainly in the evenings when he's treating himself to a glass of scotch; he'll listen to a particular artist (this week it's been an awful lot of Duke Ellington) and then recreate it on his own instrument. 

He'll start small. Just a slow, leisurely tinkling of the ivories as he finds his rhythm, and then he'll settle into his groove and flex yet another of his many skills as you listen from another room while you tidy up.

If you're especially lucky, he'll ask you to join him and give him feedback on it. 

He doesn't care about the feedback, of course, because he knows he's good and so does everyone else, and you're sure he's just using it as an opportunity to show off but you never mind. 

He has, in typical Ford fashion, always refuted your accusation: “I assure you, I certainly am not,” he'd said one evening with a knowing smile, as you'd watched from your seat beside him. “I merely know that you like jazz and I play because you listen,” and you'd felt such an intensely affectionate warmth bloom in your chest that you'd dropped the point immediately.

(And when he had added on a quiet: “Plus, I like the way you look at me when I do it,” and you'd made him hit a bum note when you’d leant up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then, well, who can blame you?) 

Your favourite thing to do, beyond simply enjoying the melodies, is to watch his hands and fingers as he works. 

He'd been a little apprehensive at first, once he had noticed, but you had been quick to reassure him that your interest was appreciative, if perhaps salacious, and not even close to judgemental. 

“Would you be uncomfortable if I took a video?” You ask one dark winter's evening, leaning against the piano’s top while you observe him. “Just for myself, I mean.” 

“Whatever for?” Ford responds without missing a beat of his metronome. 

He's going away soon. He and Stan set sail in two days time and it’s a long trip this time, which means for four months, four long, agonising months, you’ll be without him. It’s almost too much to bear and your heart feels like lead at the thought. 

“Because I’m going to miss you and I’d like to have something to remind me of you when I feel like shit,” you say. 

The corner of Ford’s mouth curls upward a fraction and he spares you a thinly veiled, heated glance, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought our plan was to give you plenty of reminders the night before….?” 

Your stomach flutters. 

“I’d like more than bruises, if you wouldn’t mind,” you say, biting down on a smile. 

Ford laughs under his breath and after a moment, says: “And it’s just for you? The video?” 

“Of course,” you reassure him. “I don’t have to, I just…. Your hands are my favourite part of you and I think about them, often.” 

Too often, some might say. 

Ford laughs again, a little louder this time. “Not my dashing good looks?” he teases. “Or my dazzling personality? You wound me, my dear.” 

You grin. “All of the above,” you say with a shrug. “But especially your hands.” 

“Is that so?” Ford says, taking one hand from the keys to pat the empty space beside him. “And what, pray tell, do you think about them?” 

You go where he asks, taking up a seat at his side obediently. “Lots of things.” 

“Such as….?” 

He’s fishing for compliments, you both know it, but does sound genuinely curious, too. 

“I think they’re the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen,” you say, giving him exactly what he wants. “And I think about how they fit in mine. I think about how they feel, how your thumb rubs over my knuckles when we hold hands and how your little finger does the same on the sides, you know, just because you can do that….”

“Anything else?” Ford asks, voice warm. 

You smile, eyes transfixed on the way his fingers tick across the ivory. “And…. I like to think about how you hold my thighs when you have your head between them. The way you hold onto my hips. How your fingers taste when you put them in my mouth.” 

Ford makes a soft sound, somewhere between a contented sigh and an aroused groan, and his hands falter momentarily before he restarts his playing. 

“Is that so?” he says, hoarse. 

“Mm,” you hum absentmindedly. Your head is full of those same thoughts right now, your mind’s eye blurred with the memories of Ford’s fingers climbing underneath your jeans and inching past your underwear. Of touching you so intimately that you have to press your thighs together slightly to sate the longing. 

Ford catches it. 

“You’re thinking about it right now,” he mutters, and his tone holds no question.

He’s stopped playing. His hands are frozen over the keys. 

“Aren’t you?” you answer, eyes still on them. 

Ford exhales slowly through his nose, shaky,  restrained. “I’m always thinking of you,” he says simply. 

You tear your eyes away to look up at him, only to find that his gaze is already on you. 

Ford’s eyes are molten, half-lidded and hot, and they flick down to your mouth and back up to your own. 

“You’re terrible,” he says, in such a way that it’s obvious he means it in the most complimentary context possible. “A terrible, terrible influence on an old man like me.” 

A smirk creeps onto your face. It’s always satisfying to see the effect you have on him. “I can leave, if you’d like me to. I have plenty to do and I-!” 

Ford pushes the stool back with one leg, your combined weights little more than a minor  inconvenience to him, and he hauls you into his lap before you can even finish the thought. 

You laugh, loud and bright, and fling your arms around his neck to hold on tightly to him and avoid sending you both to the floor in a heap. “Or not,” you concede. 

“Never,” agrees Ford, and then he’s kissing you. 

It’s slow and tender and white hot as always. 

You can feel his arousal press between your legs and it’s enough to make you smile against his mouth. 

“What a dirty old man you’ve become,” you say dramatically, nudging your nose against his. 

“I'm only what my muse makes of me,” Ford says raggedly. “And you are an awfully seductive force, you know….” 

“So I've been told,” you smile, one hand wandering below to palm him gently through his slacks. 

Ford groans, low and deep, and tilts his head back. “I'll make a deal with you,” he says quietly. “I swore off them a long time ago but just for you, just this once: if you keep doing that, I'll let you take footage of any fucking thing you like….” 

You grin. 

“Deal.” 

[unforth]

Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 7

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

I'm also posting this story on AO3 which you can find here.

This is one of the first scenes I imagined when drafting this fic, so I've been very excited to share it with you guys.

Also sidenote: Y'all thought I was gonna leave out my other hyper-fixation? Have fun reading about these poor saps bonding over the Odyssey :)

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 7

The scrape of steel on steel jolted you awake. Immediately followed by a dull, throbbing at the base of your neck that sent a shock down your spine. You fell back with a small grunt as you closed your eyes once more. Starbursts painted the back of your eyelids. A train passed outside, rattling the framed pictures on the walls. It was a familiar sound that lulled you to sleep every night.

You would have remembered coming home. Right?

Carefully, you pushed yourself onto your elbows and tried again. The light on your nightstand was offensively bright. A searing prong shoved through both eyes would have been less painful than whatever this was.

“Too bright?” A voice modulator crackled. “Sorry. I’ll turn it off.”

Jesus Christ. This couldn’t be happening.

You opened your eyes despite the pain. It took a second to adjust to the darkness, but when you did, you saw him. Red Hood crouched by your head; his shoulders curled to appear less imposing which only worked insofar that he didn’t look like he wanted to kill you. It was still unnerving, having him this close. The scent of old leather and motor oil clung to his collar. You wrinkled your nose, overwhelmed.

He shifted back onto his knees, the gesture oddly shy. “Uh, hey.”

“Why are you in my apartment?”

“There was a hostage situation at Wayne Manor. You took a hit to the back of the head. I decided to bring you back here.”

His words took a second to fully sink in, but when they did, you ghosted your fingers along the soft patch of skin at the nape of your neck. It was tender to the touch—bruised for sure—but as far as injuries went, it could have been far worse.

Several memories resurfaced and slotted together like pieces in a puzzle. Mark flirting with you over a crate of booze, a knuckle tattoo, the crack of a gun, and fucking Brendan.

“I’m an idiot.”

Hood lifted his hand as if he might touch you, but he hesitated just before he made contact. You both stared at his outstretched hand, a heavy silence between you. His fingers curled as he let his hand fall. He cleared his throat. “None of this was your fault.”

“No, part of it was definitely my fault,” you admitted, “I wouldn’t have taken a blow to the head if I hadn’t drawn the shooters attention away from the target. I tried to play hero, and it backfired.”

“You did that on purpose.” His modulator pitched.

You doubled over, gripping your head in your hands. “Ugh.”

“Sorry.” He softened his voice for your sake. It only helped insofar that he wasn’t causing active distress anymore. “Why would you do that on purpose?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think. I just acted.” You groaned and fell back against your pillow. “Funny thing is, I should have been in class, but my boss called me in to train the new recruits.”

Recruits who ended up being members of a notorious gang. What had your life become?

“I should have told him to pound sand.”

“You skipped cl—” He stopped himself before he caused another pitch in his modulator. Instead, he fumed quietly, each breath sharper than the last as he curled and uncurled fists.

While this wasn’t your first lecture from him, his reaction surprised you. Hood didn’t strike you as the scholarly type—not that you claimed to know anything about him. For all you know, he could have a PhD in political science or medicine. Most of the supervillains in Gotham were well-known academics. The same could apply to morally gray vigilantes.

Finally, he said, “Why would you skip class? Couldn’t someone else take your shift instead?”

“Our veteran server quit, so it had to be me,” you countered sharply, “I’m also not in a position when I can turn down an extra shift.” With a quick wave, you motioned to your shitty studio. It wasn’t much, but you tried. He glanced around as if he were seeing it for the first time. You supposed there were more pressing things to focus on than your tastes in thrifted décor.

“Why would you bring me home? I should have stayed at the manor until the paramedics arrived?”

He fiddled with his gloved fingers. You clocked the bad habit soon after meeting him. Watching someone as comically large as Red Hood get nervous was oddly endearing, not that you were ever going to tell him that. He’d either die of embarrassment or shoot you for pointing it out.

“Your, uh, coworker mentioned you didn’t have family in the area, so I assumed you didn’t want to pay for an ambulance ride and an overnight stay at the hospital. And you’d probably hate it even more if Bruce Wayne paid for it given you…” He made a vague, flourishing gesture with his hands. “Well, considering the conversations we’ve had.”

He caught on faster than you expected. You never imagined the person who understood you was also the one who spent his nights dual-wielding guns whilst parading around Gotham. A bitter laugh crept into your throat, but you smothered the urge, knowing the effort would make your headache worse.

“Alright, you were right to make that assumption.”

“I bet you’re regretting skipping class, huh?”

You shot him with a narrow look that told him to drop it. “No need to rub it in. I didn’t want to skip.”

From the tension curling in his shoulders, you sensed he had more to say on the matter. The air fizzled and sparked between you as you waited for him to speak, but he resisted the urge. Good. You weren’t in the mood for another lecture, and he seemed to sense that.

“Besides, I think I’m already paying the price. This was a one-time thing and now, I’ll have to miss a few more days while I recover. I don’t want to fall behind on my readings and coursework, but here we are.”

Your temples throbbed, despite the reprieve of darkness. Focusing too long on any one thing made the room spin. It was nauseating. As much as you wanted to escape in a book, that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

“What are you reading?” he asked after a moment.

You motioned toward the stack on your kitchen table. Most of the books had been thrifted from the shop down the street. Your scholarship didn’t cover reading materials, and you balked at the prices at the school store.

“The Red Tent for my women’s history class and The Odyssey for my English class.”

“Which translation of The Odyssey?”

“Robert Fitzgerald.”

He made a small noise of disgust, amplified by the modulator. “He translated it well, I guess, but I prefer Emily Wilson’s take on the epic. It’s creative, but there’s a certain musicality to her prose that I admire.”

You… didn’t know how to respond to that.

Red Hood was the last person you expected to have an opinion on classical literature. Sure, it kind of made sense the longer you talked with him, but the vibes of tortured poet and rugged vigilante didn’t quite mesh in your mind. In fact, you were fairly certain this was all a concussion-induced dream. It just happened to include Red Hood.

And if this was a dream, like you assumed it was, there was no harm in playing along.

“You’ve read multiple translations of the Odyssey?”

“Duh. At least three in English, another in Spanish, and one in German. Hasn’t everyone?” He shoved off your bed and walked toward your kitchen table. “Comparison is a crucial element when it comes to translated works. People interpret language differently and it’s fun to read those different interpretations.”

He grabbed the book from your pile and flipped through it gingerly, almost reverent in the way he handled it. “Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story of that man skilled in all way of contending, the wanderer, harried for years on end, after he plundered the stronghold of the proud height of—”

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you with your readings. Take it from me, reading with a concussion fucking sucks.”

“Oh.”

Oh—that was the best response you could come up with?

You stared at your hands so he wouldn’t see your blush. An offer like that was, well, it toed a line. Which line? You couldn’t exactly say, but there had to be one given the Red Hood had offered to read to you so casually. The man was a walking contradiction of himself with the broad frame that barely concealed the raw awkwardness that lay beneath. It felt familiar, but your mind was too foggy to draw a connection.

This had to be a dream. You refused to believe anything else. There wasn’t a reality where Red Hood, or anyone for that matter, offered to read The Odyssey outside your dreams.

Fuck it.

Might as well test the bounds of your dreams.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but it’s kind of hard to listen with your…” You motioned toward his helmet. “The modulator is a little hard on the ears.”

He gave you a long look. It was moments like this you wished you could see the expression beneath. Maybe this was the line. Asking him to remove his helmet wasn’t just a risk to him, but to you as well. Anonymity to a certain degree protected you. You understood that, and yet you asked anyway.

“I’m sorry,” you started, “Forget I asked.”

A lot of things could have happened next. You shuffled through all of them in the span of a few seconds, none of which were all that pleasant. Him ducking behind the couch and laying flat on the floor was not one of the scenarios you pictured.

You sat a little straighter, only able to see his heavy combat boots sticking out from one end. “Uh… Hood?”

Several seconds passed before he said, “Is this better?”

There was no modulator this time. His words weren’t even muffled. His natural voice settled low in his chest, punching on the vowels and softened the consonants. A pleasant zing rippled through your blood.

The man had a prominent Jersey accent. While not uncommon for the area, confirming it thrilled you more than you expected. Another piece to the puzzle that was Red Hood.

The realization hit you harder than the gun had. You muffled a gasp in your palm. He removed his helmet... for you. You had no intention of seeing the man hidden beneath the mask. Knowing that he trusted you at all made you a little light-headed.

“Much better.”

“Right. Okay.” He paused. “Can I—not that I don’t, but can I trust you not to—”

“I promise not to look,” you assured him.

What went unsaid hung thick in the air and threatened to smother you. You settled on your side, pointedly ignoring the fact that Red Hood was laying on your apartment floor. As far as dreams went, this one was bizarre, but the thought of waking up and being forced to face reality hit harder than you expected.

Selfishly, you didn’t want it to end, and that frightened you.

“Now, where were we.” You heard the shuffle pages before he said, “Here we go. He saw the townlands and learned the minds of many distant men, and weathered...”

You closed your eyes to focus on the mental pictures he painted with words alone. His lilting voice read with the confidence of someone who’d read these passages a hundred times over. And maybe he had. It was easy to get lost in the story—in n the inviting warmth of his honeyed words. It wasn’t long before you succumbed to them like a siren’s song.

It was unclear when exactly you drifted off, but when you startled awake a few hours later, your apartment existed in the stillness of dawn. Thin strips of sunlight filtered through your blinds. You blinked blearily, a headache pressing down on your temples as you sat up.

As you peered around your apartment, deciding where the dream ended and reality began, you settled on the book left on your nightstand. The Odyssey. You grabbed it, flipping open to the spot that someone had marked with a crumpled Bat Burger receipt. It certainly wasn’t yours.

You flipped it over to find a hastily scrawled note on the back in red ink. Take it easy. Rest. Drink water. Pain meds as needed—just don’t overdo it. I left off on page 29, line 317. –RH

RH.

Red Hood.

Not a dream then...

All of it was real. He brought you home and watched over you until you woke up. He read books and had opinions on classic literature. He took off his helmet for you. Your flush bled down your neck and settled in your chest. That meant his damn accent was real too.

Fucked. That’s what you were.

Burying your face in your book, you flopped back on the bed. The knot at the nape of your neck twinged, but it failed to put you out of your misery.

If Hood knew what was good for him, he’d stay away. If you knew what was good for you, you’d do the same. So, you did what you always do with problems you didn’t want to deal with. It went in a box, and you tucked away in the far recesses of your mind to deal with on another day.

[eldragon-x]

Gonna write out this idea that Silver inspired in me in a post because I'm not sure I'll get around to actually writing a fic for it and I just need more people to think about Mirabelle and Odile moments with me.

I've brought up before that it's kinda insane that Odile pulled out a spell that stopped Siffrin from looping back in time. Like whatever she used here is able to interact with Time Craft, which itself would normally kill the user.

So I think it's quite possible that she herself might suffer craft exhaustion as a result of this. Add on that the party had to run through the distorted House at night to catch up with Siffrin and that Odile isn't the most physically fit person at her age.

But maybe she pushes that aside. Siffrin was hit harder by Craft Sickness, everyone was concerned about him, the party decided to leave Dormont rather sooner than later for their sake, she can handle it.

But it does catch up to her soon enough after a long day of the party fighting their way through Sadnesses and making it to an Inn by the evening. She's tired, her body hurts, she feels ill, and she's bruised and dirty from the battles, not helped by her performance already dwindling since the party left Dormont.

So she's sitting on her bed, dizzy and aching, wishing she could take the opportunity to take a bath but feeling too weak to do so. It affects her to the point where Mirabelle can tell that she's not doing well and asks if she can help her in any way.

Odile admits at this point that maybe she didn't give herself enough rest since that day in Dormont and that she's frustrated because she can't do much at all right now. And now that she brought it up, she wonders if Mirabelle is alright, since she also performed a powerful spell that day.

Mira appreciates the concern, but assures Odile she's doing okay. The shield spell was complicated, but not so exhausting that she wouldn't have recovered over a good night's sleep. Moreso she feels rather guilty for not having checked up on Odile earlier.

All that being said, she offers to help Odile bathe. Being a healer and having spent a lot of time studying about anything in the House of Dormont, I imagine she has some degree of medical training and trusts herself to handle people.

Odile gets tense but weighting her options, decides it's probably the most logical step here and she'd rather Mira assists her than anyone else. It turns into a bit of a back and forth of them trying to assure each other that they don't have to if they're uncomfortable, but Odile wants to be practical and refresh herself, and Mirabelle can take the innitiative when she needs to and at worst will feel slightly awkward about helping someone she knows personally in such a vulnerable position.

Odile actually feels a lot more embarrassed about the whole situation because it's strange having to rely on someone notably younger than herself after essentially assigning herself as the Adult™️ of the party looking out for everyone else. But Mira doesn't hesitate, gets straight to the point, and after helping Odile settle, she stays to sit down next to the bathub in case Odile needs help reaching something or getting out, make sure she doesn't fall asleep and goes under, and tries to ease the tension for her by bringing up a book she's been reading.

Odile is surprised to hear that Mira's into horror literature but gets genuinely invested which helps her relax. Mira ends up convincing Odile to borrow one of her books and jokes that she will have to read through it while the party decides to stay at the inn for the following week so she can recover.

Odile's tempted to protest the suggestion that they should stop for over a week, just for her, but drops it. The party can take their time now, that the curse isn't threatening the country anymore. She supposes they also did promise to look out for each other, she just didn't think she'd need to rely on anyone else.

On Mira's insistence, Odile gets bed rest for the following days, with the rest of the party helping her get whatever she needs, while she picks up Mirabelle's book whenever she can.

[suzukiblu]

Day thirty of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU. And yes I DID win NaNoWriMo, thank you for asking. ❤ This is the last day of NaNo, obviously, so I'm gonna take a little bit of a break from this fic due to being just sliiiiightly burned out from writing 1k+ a day in it for the past month and all, but I intend to start editing it and posting chapters of it on AO3 in the next week or two, so it'll be both easily bookmark/subscribe-able and updating on there soon!

They go through all the boxes, Tim suffers a bit for it, and Kon laughs and makes him suffer more, the bastard. It’s fun, though, even if now Tim would really prefer to never stick his hand in another box ever again in his life. 

The last box Kon directs him to is full of layers of distinctly cashmere-esque fabrics, and Kon smiles a little and ducks his head again. Tim is disgruntled, but charmed. 

They wander through the exhibits, and Tim feels pretty good about his activity-picking when he realizes Kon’s stopping to look at all of them and actually seems interested in all of them. They have to circle back a couple of times so Kon isn’t doing anything too super-powered in front of other guests, but they do hit all of them. Some of them are more interesting than others, in Tim’s opinion, but Kon still tries them all. Tim wouldn’t complain even if he were bored out of his mind, though, given how invested Kon gets in sorting and mixing the tables full of colored glass beads and making waves and whirlpools in the water fixtures and manipulating the kaleidoscopes and chimes and everything else. 

Kon spends the least amount of time with the auditory and olfactory stations, though he’s happy to try all the little hors d'oeuvres that Tim assumes are supposed to be covering “taste” for the exhibit. Visual he seems generally curious about, but definitely tactile wins. Like–far and away, does tactile win. They spend twice as much time at the tactile stations Kon is least interested in as they do any two of the others. Tim doesn’t mention it in case it’s not on purpose. He still doesn’t want to make Kon feel self-conscious or anything. 

Anyway, the tactile parts of the exhibit were the whole reason he picked this as a date activity, so what, is he going to be bothered by having made the correct deduction or assumption or whatever? Not freaking likely. Actually if anything he’s going to need to privately gloat to himself about this later. Bask in it a bit. 

Also take some notes for future dates and things to buy Kon and whatever else. 

More cashmere, to start. A lot more. 

Tim sneaks a few more pictures of Kon as they walk from station to station. Kon laughs at him every time he catches him and takes one of him too, which is incredibly flustering. Tim cons him into a few selfies in self-defense, which turns out to be a terrible idea because it still involves him ending up in pictures and, worse, involves him ending up in pictures with Kon, who takes the excuse to press in close and kiss his cheek and just be all kinds of appallingly adorable, the asshole. 

Kon uses the first picture he took as Tim’s contact picture and makes one of their shared selfies his phone background. Tim is mildly mortified but also desperately wants to earn lockscreen status, which is a terrible idea because what if Kon ever takes his phone out around the team or Red Tornado or, god forbid, Bruce? 

Tim should definitely make sure Kon doesn’t put him on his lockscreen. 

. . . but like, if he did . . . 

There’s a clay station. Kon stays at that one the longest, making weird little abstract shapes and surprisingly accurate miniature versions of the sculptures tucked away in the corners of the gallery with TTK. Tim hadn’t even noticed him looking at any of the sculptures, but in retrospect he never actually needed to “look” at them, did he? And on that note, Tim guesses the accuracy shouldn’t be any kind of surprising either–Kon must have a really good sense of spatial awareness, if nothing else, and of how things “should” be shaped. 

By the time they get through the last station of the exhibit, they’ve been at the museum almost twice as long as Tim’s most optimistic estimates had allowed for and he’s had to sneak off to the “bathroom” for five minutes to push their reservation back an hour. Tim has absolutely zero intention of rushing Kon, especially if he’s having a good time, so it just makes more sense to reschedule than to put him on a schedule. 

Though he did have to actually make sure to go into the bathroom to do it, since Kon might’ve noticed him not heading that direction. Tim doubts Kon’s paying attention to what anyone’s doing in the bathroom, for obvious reasons, but he still probably would’ve noticed the date he was briefly concerned might be a supervillain just ducking around a corner to make a phone call ten yards away, no matter how Bat-stealthy said date was about it. Like, that seems like a stupid thing to expect him not to notice. 

They stop by the gift shop on their way out–well, Tim detours Kon to it with subtle herding, anyway–and Tim manages to convince Kon to pick out a couple of things. He ends up with a couple of sort of fidget toy-type puzzles and a little three-pack of little tubs of a clay-like play sand in bright colors, which Tim thinks is probably meant to function as some kind of stim toy and was probably something specifically sourced to go with the event, and Tim “accidentally” throws in a couple of fancy candy bars from the front register. Again: Kon needs calories that weren’t directly sourced from cafeteria food from a definitely-not-OSHA-compliant cloning lab. 

Maybe Tim can send Kon a fruit basket or ten while he’s still stuck at Cadmus. Those probably come in tropical themes. 

Alternately, maybe he can just kidnap Kon outright and trap him in a nice new cul-de-sac until he gets used to it. He could get him actual groceries, then. Lots of them. Fruit and vegetables and entire spreads of “things that weren’t made in an OSHA-noncompliant cafeteria”. That’d be nice. 

Also he could send that Hawaiian food truck by on the daily, if they were up for it. 

They share the candy bars on the walk to the restaurant–meaning, Tim takes two perfunctory bites of each and tricks Kon into eating the rest with basically zero effort–and it’s . . . nice, honestly, just walking around together. Just being together. Not that this is new knowledge, after the mall, but it’s still novel enough that Tim can’t help indulging in and enjoying the experience. They don’t usually get much time alone together, much less time that isn’t spent either fighting supervillains or dealing with emergencies. So–it’s nice, yeah. 

Tim likes it, he means. 

They make their adjusted reservation, and Kon peers around the restaurant awkwardly as they’re led to their table. Tim resolves to do whatever it takes to get him to relax, up to and including embarrassing himself in some way or another. He’s probably going to do that anyway, given how most of these meet-ups have been going. 

“Does it qualify for ‘nice’ enough so far?” he asks once they’re seated, and Kon blushes, then flashes him a grin. 

“It’s okay, I guess,” he says, then bites his lip with a brief flicker of insecurity as he glances down at the menu–specifically the prices on the menu. “Um . . . are you sure you wanna spend this much on me, though . . . ?”

“I want to spend my entire trust fund on you,” Tim says matter-of-factly, and Kon lets out a weird little laugh and ducks his head again. It works a little better this time, since he has the menu to hide behind right now. 

“I already like you, man,” he says, which is still inexplicable but not something Tim is actually gonna argue with. “You don’t have to keep buying me stuff.” 

“I like buying you stuff,” Tim says. “I’m gonna keep doing it as long as you’ll let me.” And after that, he’ll figure out a way to sneak doing it. 

“Just because you like it?” Kon says, glancing at him over the top of the menu. 

“Because I like you,” Tim says. “I mean, no offense to the hostess, but I wouldn’t enjoy buying her dinner this much.” 

Kon bites his lip, then ducks his head again. His face is red. Tim feels the urge to kiss him again. He probably should’ve found time to do that on the walk over or something. Or as soon as he first saw him. Or just at any point so far tonight, because the urge is getting seriously distracting now. 

“So when you said you wanted to go somewhere after this too . . .” Kon trails off, flushing darker. 

“There’s a late show at the planetarium about the sun’s role in our solar system and the life cycle of stars,” Tim says. It might be too loose an association, but . . . “I thought you might be interested in checking it out.” 

Kon stares at him for a moment, then turns absolutely crimson and hides behind his menu entirely. 

“Okay,” he manages, his voice a little cracked. Tim’s pretty sure he could’ve said he’d rented them a hotel room and gotten a less embarrassed reaction. So . . . that’s a thing. 

Okay. 

“I really do want to spend the money on you,” he says. “Apartment and all.” 

“An apartment,” Kon says, glancing over the top of his menu at him again. “And bills and groceries and an . . . allowance.” 

“Yes,” Tim says. No point in beating around the bush, he figures. It’s all things he’s already told Kon anyway. 

“And not just because I saved your life,” Kon says. 

“Not just because you saved my life,” Tim agrees. “I just want to give you those things. Or anything you want, really. Which–well, what would you want?” 

“Um,” Kon says, just barely lowering his menu as his eyes skate away. “Well . . . could we like . . . keep hanging out outside the theoretical apartment and stuff? If we did . . . that?" 

Tim feels something absolutely giddy and absolutely painful in his chest, hearing that question. Just–what does Kon think, that he just wants to toss a lease at him and never see him again? Or just only come over to . . . actually, wait, maybe Kon does think–ugh. Ugh. Fuck, that is not what he’s trying to make Kon worry about here. 

“Yes,” Tim says firmly. “As much as you want.” 

“Mm,” Kon says, biting his lip again. His face is still red. Tim wants to give him every single thing the world hasn’t given him, which he knows for a fact is a truly fucked-up and probably borderline-insurmountable amount of things. 

But he still wants to give it all to him anyway, and then think up a few more things besides.

[menacing-menace-rat]

Can I get platonic yandere headcanons for all of the founding members of the Justice League?

I definitely can! Also sorry it took me so long to get to this. I'm still learning about how the inbox stuff works.

I'm going to have to make this in parts because it's alot to look at with all 7 members. This is part 1 of ?

I'm gonna use the founding members from the animated universe. More members and I love Martian Manhunter. If you were looking for the Snyder universe let me know and I'll edit the post and add Cyborg for you. 🤗

Warnings: kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, general yandere creep stuff.

Platonic yandere justice league members part 1

Superman

You were a scientist at LexCorp

After some questionable experiments you knew you had to blow the whistle

So you went to the Daily Planet.

That's where it all stared.

So smart with a kind heart, how could he not protect you?

He's deluded himself completely.

He can't see how he can be the villain in anyone's story let alone yours.

He's very aware of his own strength thankfully.

You are more of a risk to yourself than he is. At least physically 👀

You'd be moved to a farmhouse almost right away.

When it comes to kidnapping you, he has no self control, it's near instant.

he knows how fragile humans are and he refuses to take any chances.

No matter how much you pleaded with him it was no use.

He was the only one who could help you and stop Lex.

This man has a scary amount of patience. No amount of hitting or screaming is going to set him off.

He will subconsciously prolong any solution that would make Lex and his people less of a threat to you.

He'd insist on sharing a bed. If he was anyone else you'd be worried he would try something.

If he wanted that kind of thing from you, you knew he could just make you.

So you were pretty sure whatever this was it was at least a platonic infatuation.

At night he'd hold you so tight it was difficult to move.

A physical reminder of what you already felt inside, trapped.

There was no escaping that farm. Anywhere in the city he could hear you.

He'd hear the front door open or your panting as you tried to run for the nearest road.

He wouldn't allow any kind of phones or computers in the house.

Why would he? Need help? He'll be there faster than any cop. You are lonely? That's fine he'd love to have hour long talks about anything you want.

Batman

Your best bet is to play along for years maybe. How ever long it takes for him to maybe let you make a grocery run alone.

He found you on the streets. Maybe it was your sad eyes or your dirty face but he knew he had to take you in.

He'd tell himself he could help you learn to fight. That you'd make a great Robin.

Deep down he knew he'd never let you fight in any way.

He's not like Superman. He knows how much he cares for you is unhealthy. He knows it's wrong to take you in and effectively trap you in a huge manor but what else can he do?

He is a world class manipulator. He also has far less patience then Superman.

Too many escape attempts and he's going to make a plan.

He'd go as far as to allow you to "escape". Only to orchestrate some horrible traumatic event so he can find you and save you all over again.

Depending on how strong willed you were the worst it would be.

It was twisted and horrible but he almost craved reassuring you.

He loved your tears so long as they weren't for a real reason.

Bruce kept a tight lid on his emotions. You'd never see him lose it. He'd never show he was upset with you.

Despite this being a very unconventional child/parent relationship his go to punishment is normally grounding and lost of privileges.

You'd be home schooled of course.

He isn't all that hands on unsurprisingly.

He'd ask one of the other kids to keep en eye on you or even another justice league members.

Asking them for help wouldn't work.

The kids are on board with Bruce. Even if they weren't what could they do?

As for the other JL members he'd tell them you were mentally ill and confused.

He'd get his colleagues/friends admiration for being so selfless by raising a sick child and you'd just look crazy.

Bruce is not known for his affection but he does try.

If you are crying or screaming he might try and comfort you with a hug or by rubbing your back.

He's not the best at comforting words either but his little acts of kindness are where he shines

He'd do his best to make most of your days as structured and predictable as possible.

You'd be kept in the best health imaginable. whether you liked it or not.

Anything you can ask for he'd give you, so long as you don't ask for freedom.

He even makes time to tuck you in every night no matter your age.

If he has time he might even read to you.

You probably are never getting free of him and his kids but your best bet would be utilize the uncontrollable.

Batman is a planner. He likes to be able to predict things.

Try and wait till something goes majorly wrong.

All of Arkhams prisoners being released or an alien invasion are your only chances of slipping out of that place. You'd only get one shot though.

Diana isn't crazy right off the bat.

Wonder Woman

(This one might be the only non gender neutral one.)

You were an anthropologist given the rare opportunity to study the amazonians from the island of Themyscira.

She is cool under pressure and isn't easily impressed.

After so long of staying there she'd start to feel like you were her sister.

But once she's invested in you there is no going back.

She would follow you back to whatever city you called home.

She isn't shy about her sisterly love for you. There would be no mind games with her.

She respects you too much for that.

She is so direct about it she would likely just tell you, you were going to go back to the island with her and be with her forever.

Depending on your reaction towards her directness she may not even make you.

She might be okay with you just visiting. For a while at least.

She's confident and self assured.

If you liked being around her as much as she likes being around you things would be easy.

If not life was going to be hard and potentially painful.

Rejecting her affection and forthcomingness will break her heart.

She would blame herself and work to be better.

Unfortunately being better to her means giving you even less space.

She'd make you come back with her.

An island full of tall strong women all who listen to Diana's will.

You are not escaping.

She is near impossible to trick twice if you have already tried to get away from her.

That being said it wouldn't be all that bad.

She would be painfully gentle with you. So long as you just listen.

You are her little sister after all.

She differs from Kent and Bruce in a big way.

She would train you, she is pragmatic and understands one day she may not be there to protect you.

Long and rigorous training sessions would be the norm for a while.

On Themiscyra you'd have much more freedoms. You would even be able to walk around alone if you showed you can handle it.

Your happiness is her second priority after your safety.

She'd being you anything you wanted from your part of the world.

She would like for you to participate in amazonian traditions and customs but she'd never make you. Even if she wants to sometimes

She'd relish in watching you acclimate to her world.

She would insist her sisters treat you with the love and respect she feels you deserve.

Your only hope of escape would be to somehow get off the island and disappear.

Nothing sort of complete disappearance would work. If she ever caught you again you wouldn't be leaving that island for a second time.

More to come hopefully soon. There will be 2 or 3 parts in total not sure yet. Hope you enjoyed!

[karmaajr]

HEYO Y'ALL!!!! I got bored and decided my last intro post was WAY too unorganised (even by my standards frfr 😔😔🙏) so i made a new one!!! hopefully this ones a bit better or else ima light somebody on fire 🥰🥰

anyways dms n asks r ALWAYS open and if ur new to my person/being/blog/existancewhatevs and wanna get to know me or smth then FEEL FREE TO SLIDE IN GIRLYPOPS!!! I'M ALWAYS BORED SOO 😭😭🙏 (might take like, a billion years to reply tho mbmb >:3)

and thus again, without any further ado, MY INTRO POST 😍

🎶 try to strike a chord but it's probably A MINOR 🎶 -> ✨️im under 18✨️ idm nsfw convos tho bcuz theyre funny :D

sooo tbh you can call me whatever you want? like ppl call me different things (eg senka calls me kam, bea calls me keke/kekere bcuz shes 🎶a meanie, a big meanie🎶 my irl bestie westie pookie poo calls me jeena CUZ HES A LIL BITCH) but MHM!!! CALL ME WHATEVER U WANNA <33 (as long as it dont feel masc bcuz my dumbass got issues w feeling masc for some RANDOM STUPID REASON 💀) (like im literally a cis girl why do i got problems w this....... but YAAAA 😭) (she/her btw!!! if that wasnt obvious!! ^^)

✨️i am cringe but i am free✨️

I SOMETIMES USE GENDERED TERMS LIKE GIRLY/BRO/DUDE/ETC BUT I DON'T MEAN IT GENDERED SO IF YOU FEEL IFFY THEN DONT HESITATE TO HMU N TELL ME TO FIX UP MY SHIT

btw im a tad bit of train wreck but if u enjoy the chaos then we'll get along js fine i think pooks 😋😋

anyways it came to my shitty little attention span one day when i was just being a silly lil girly that some of yall think im white when i say im british....... CHAT NOOO IM BORN N RAISED IN THIS TEA RIDDEN COUNTRY BUT ETHNICITY WISE IM BANGLADESHI!??!?! YALL IM LITERALLY A BROWNIE OMFDS 🤧

also a lot of this blog is a bunch of reblogs of shit im interested in BUT I DO HAVE OG STUFFFFFF, THEY'RE JUST IN THEIR OWN TAGS U GET ME??? anyways some of the tags!!!

karmaajr rambles -> for everything i post besides answers to asks :3

karmaajr answers ig :D -> answers to asks ^^

important thing for me to tag bcuz yes -> random thing i really wanna save (also im bad at tagging so sometimes thing has an "s" or tag has an "s" lmfao, ITS A RLLY USELESS TAG TO TRY SCROLL THRU ICL.... RLLY DRY AS WELL)

karmas mum mentions :3 -> i like to think this one explains itself yall 😘

daddy's unhinged -> anything about my sweet ol' pops (who totes cares abt me yall) 🥰

my sister and I -> anything my sister is involved in that i actually remember to tag LMFAO

NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK -> me wanting to save things that r to do w my gf 🫶

BTW HIS @ IS @panikbutt0n AND SHE'S MY MAPLE SYRUP CHUGGING 4LIFER AND LITERALLY THE BEST THING SINCE RIPPED BREAD AND I LOVE HER SO SO SO MUCH SO ACC HIT HER UP PLZ 🙏🙏🙏🙏

btw yall, ur homegirl aint no gatekeeper so the group matching pfp thingy is from @tuturthecarvroom 's blog (n they very skibidi sbg art btw so i do reccomend frfr) and mY HEADER IS OFF GOOGLE SEARCH 😍😍

ALSO I AM CURRENTLY MATCHING WITH THE SILLIEST GROUP EVER FRFR, GONNA TRY @ THEM ALL BUT IT'S HARDDD (my memory is the shittiest thing since That One Time my friend shit his trousers on call w me 💪💪💪)

@lee1504 -> BRAINROTTED KING 🙏🙏

@d011zk1ll -> both kind af and somewhat unhinged??? like both "do a good deed to make somebody else's life easier ☺️" AND "im gonna eat a bicycle :p"

@sketchingwithlyn -> JUST THE CHILLEST GUY EVERRRR!!!!

@rot-decay-erosion -> gramps 🧓🏻 (also known as the desendant of our king garfield 😙✨️)

@afrogwhocantdraw -> RESIDENT BENLOR POOKIE

@low-senka -> the brokest senior citezen youve ever met 💔💔💔💔 (yall need to donate to my guy 🥺🥺🥺)

(also the thing below had me stuck looking at it for literally AGES so hehehehehhehehe GET TRAPPED IDIOT!!!!!! >:3!!!!!)

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

(dots r fun)

anyways i have no clue what else to write!!! which is weird bcuz im a yapper frfr :D

ANYWAYS LOVE Y'ALL ✨️✨️✨️

WAIT

⁠⁠⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.......... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.................... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.............................. ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

........................................ ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

..................................................ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

............................................................ ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

......................................................................⁠ ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

⁠

THEY 👥 DONT🙅🏼‍♀️ LOVE 😘 YOU 🫵🏼 LIKE I 👀 LOVE 🥰 YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼

[luv-again]

Aha another question!

How would Shadow and Amy take care of each other when the other got sick?

I imagine that Shadow would be alerted because it would bring him back to when Maria was sick so he would not leave Amy’s side but maybe you have a different view on it.

yippee another question !!

going to chuck this all under the cut, because my answer is not as short as i thought it was going to be lmao (also be warned this regrettably is a veery shadow-centric yaparoo)

first of all, i'm absolutely on the same bandwagon as you. like,, you cannot tell me shadow would sit idle when someone else gets sick. you cannot tell me something like this scene in dark beginnings would never be repeated again in a future circumstance :

doesn't matter how, shadow's gonna fret. he's gonna be pedantic. not overbearing, but definitely more stern and watchful. shadow has known to make parallels between his current situation and that of an occurrence with maria (i mean, just look at those cutscenes in sa2 !). she is ingrained in his memory - linked to trauma or not - she is always in his mind and heart

shameful plug, but i wrote something in similar here in one of my shadamy fics, where shadow, in a moment of vulnerability, confesses his worry for amy's wellbeing (with the implication his past playing a factor in his instinctual response). contextually, not quiiite in the same ballpark, but close enough to say i definitely share your mindset

"Sorry, I don't mean to sound impertinent; seeing lethargy in you triggered a warning in me and I... I worry." — Sin and Sublimation

you're right though, shadow would remain by amy's side, whether she's come down with the common cold or something long-term. that scene in dark beginnings alone could say that not only does he care about maria, but he's a caretaker in general and therefore wouldn't likely leave amy to deteriorate while she's under the weather

i don't remember where the post is or who posted it, but someone had an awesome hc where they believe shadow serves a similar function to how a medical care animal would and i don't remember if this was part of the post, but i hc that shadow has an ability/sense to sniff out illness before symptoms even crop up. or if it's long-term, sense a flare-up before it hits. of course, it wouldn't help him any with prevention in most cases, but a part of him is always aware

point is, shadow's onto it. he's finding the best way to minimise suffering if it's within his power to do so. of course, he's not going to leave amy bedridden and miserable - and that applies both through inaction and being too controlling. he's going to look after her but won't hold amy back if she feels capable of doing something. anyway, all this allows for him to be able to step back into a role familiar to him. one he treats with utmost diligence

amy however, is so much harsher on shadow. and that's because he was under the belief he couldn't get sick (next stop : denial station ??). as a thought, he was possibly immune to every condition known at the time, but that's the thing, especially regarding airborne illnesses (iykyk) : they evolve. i think shadow in general probably has a rough as guts immune system, so it might fight whatever it is off before it becomes a problem, but if it did hit ? amy's going to make sure he doesn't do anything reckless and instead rests well. shadow probably has a hard time being cared for, all things considered, so that on top of being sick is all overwhelmingly new to him. i think amy likes to make chicken noodle soup and bring him a hot water bottle and watch movies with him - that kinda thing :) she herself is probably used to looking after cream or vanilla when they're sick so she knows just what to do to help someone through their sickness

regardless, they're a loyal team, your honour. i stand by this 'til my last breath, i do <33

[anti-dazai-blog]

back by popular demand (3 people are interested :D)

classic lit authors and what abilities I think they should have

(I have a very clear preference for psychological abilities)

-abilities can be based on the plot, themes, or just the title itself. not gonna clarify which it is, but it should be self explanatory enough

Jane Austin -- Pride and Prejudice -- cupid-esque, makes people fall in love.

John Knowles -- A Separate Peace -- reads people's emotions. cannot do anything useful with the info he gets from this.

Charles Dickens -- Great Expectations -- midas-esque, turns what he touches into gold. (I think it would be cool if he could also turn things into liquid gold, which can harden to trap a target. however iirc gold is not very strong so... but also it's magic so anything can happen)

Miguel de Cervantes -- Don Quixote -- tells one lie a day that one listener (intended target) will believe. It wears off the following day. Third parties are not predisposed to believe the lie.

Edith Wharton -- The Age of Innocence -- temporarily removes all ill-intent from a target. ALL includes both intent towards her and towards anyone else.

Ray Bradbury -- Fahrenheit 451 -- literally just fire. classic elemental fire ability.

Willa Cather -- My Antonia -- one way telepathy: can talk directly into people's minds but cannot receive mental messages back. this is entirely because I hated this book so much that I wished it could just be zapped into my brain so I wouldn't have to torture myself by reading it.

George Bernard Shaw -- Pygmalion -- medusa-esque, turns people to stone through eye contact

Homer -- The Odyssey -- basically geoguesser. teleports people into a random location anywhere in the world. cannot choose where he's sending them. (all I'm imagining is him trying to use it in a fight and the person teleports like 2 inches to the left. then punches him.)

Sophocles -- Oedipus Rex -- gives people random personalized prophecies. never makes sense until after it's fulfilled.

Eugene O'Neil -- Long Day's Journey into Night -- I'd like to imagine this guy's got that 'illness personified' aesthetic. the ability should be something to do with disease and decay. but I care more about the visual portrayal of the character as something physically rotting. (visually distinct character design my beloved <3)

Baroness Emma Orczy -- The Scarlet Pimpernel -- shapeshifter. I've posted about her on my main too,, I really think bsd could use a shapeshifter. That's a much more grounded sort of chaos that could lead to higher stakes situations without this whole "world ending vampires whatever fyodor's got going on."

-in all seriousness I think if Asagiri would make use of more psychological abilities or psychological threats he could have as many high stakes stories as he wants without power scaling/power creep. but that would involve writing actual mysteries in the detective story. so.-

-I'm so sorry asagiri :( -

Franz Kafka -- The Metamorphosis -- turns into a bug. same way Natsume turns into a cat.

Alexandre Dumas -- The Count of Monte Cristo -- deflects attacks. Any attack that hits him inflicts that damage onto the attacker instead.

Lewis Carroll -- Alice in Wonderland -- shrinks and grows things (including himself).

William Golding -- Lord of the Flies -- causes conflict among groups. I'd like to think the mechanics of it could be interesting-- like it shows him different dialogue options [video game style!], indicating which line would cause the most conflict.

There would often be no context for why that line would cause conflict, and he has no way of knowing if the conflict will be directed at him, or just within the group as a whole. He can choose a more harmless option, or he could risk it on the big conflict option in an attempt to eliminate enemies.

George Orwell -- 1984 -- spies on set target, like a camera trained on one person. can only spy on one person at a time.

Harper Lee -- To Kill a Mockingbird -- frames a target for a crime. the reverse of Mushitaro's-- generates fake evidence for a crimes instead of removing real evidence.

Oscar Wild -- The Picture of Dorian Gray -- essentially immortality so long as one designated item doesn't get destroyed.

Niccolò Machiavelli -- The Prince -- influences targets. not strong enough to truly be considered mind control, but fairly strong persuasion. see my The Prince post where I explain so much in the tags.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry -- The Little Prince -- allows him to understand people. thoroughly. please please go see my the prince/the little prince post, I explain so much in the tags. I have so many thoughts about these two.

Robert Louis Stevenson -- Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde -- compels people to act on their temptations and impulses. cannot convince people to do things they would have no desire to do otherwise.

Victor Hugo -- Les Miserables -- I think it would be very funny if it just made them unrecognizable to law enforcement. not shapeshifting, just all cops cannot recognize this guy's face. (they could recognize his muscles though, as per lore accurate les mis.)

William Shakespeare -- To Be or Not To Be (I am not naming this Hamlet. strictly for vibes.) -- gives people existential crises. If they have existential crises regularly already, it doesn't do anything.

I'd like to imagine he'd use it on a character who usually comes across as relatively well adjusted and. nothing happens. Like if atsushi/kunikida/chuuya were to be targeted they'd just be like "yeah idk nothing happened... sorry man. better luck next time."

Issac Asimov -- The Feeling of Power -- ability allows him to do any math- no matter how difficult or complex- without a calculator. I'd like to think he's insist that he doesn't have an ability, he's just really good at math. basically the opposite of ranpo.

Reginald Rose -- Twelve Angry Men -- the antithesis to Harper Lee, finds evidence proving anyone innocent. or at least can prove plausible deniability.

Arthur Conan Doyle -- Sherlock Holmes -- understand in full what anyone's ability is, and what its limits, strengths and weaknesses are.

we don't have enough ability-related abilities in bsd. too much offense and defense, not enough middle ground stuff.

Tennessee Williams -- The Glass Menagerie -- turns people into 'glass', or drastically decreases their durability. doesn't harm the target in and of itself, but the target needs to leave any combat because now they can be killed in one hit.

Arthur Miller -- Death of a Salesman -- communicates with the dead. We're gonna need something like this if Asagiri keeps killing off characters at the rate he's currently going.