#but seriously i had to scrap so many ideas

[arolesbianism]

It is my new life purpose to add the most questionable song choices to the Jackie section of my oni playlist. Hey at least one of them is a rabbit universe Jackie song so I have sort of an excuse, but spoilers it's not keep your head up so uhhhhh lol

[captainmalewriter]

Miss Pigwin's Journal

Among the myriad of stereotypes surrounding gay men, Ivan never really fit into any of them. He was never the flamboyant queen nor the circuit party gay. Ivan always considered himself to be more of a lone wolf type. Although many would find the life of a social hermit boring and exhausting, Ivan truly didn’t mind his quiet, solitary lifestyle. Just class, work, gym, rinse and repeat. It was a simple routine, but it was one that Ivan loved. 

One evening, after his engineering classes, Ivan made a quick pit stop at the local store before heading back to his apartment. He needed to buy a new journal after he had filled out the last page the night before. Journaling was a hobby that Ivan took very seriously. For the past five or so years, Ivan would take 10 minutes every night to write his complete, unfiltered thoughts in his journal before bed. It was a therapeutic practice for Ivan, and he did not plan to stop anytime soon. 

Ivan was hoping to find a stylish yet relatively cheap journal but was quickly met with disappointment instead as he made his way down the stationary aisle. The store had completely run out of notebooks! A nearby employee told Ivan that the overnight crew would restock the store and that he should return the next day, but he was too determined to give up after having gone through the trouble of walking to the store. He scoured the store until he finally found one misplaced notebook, although its gaudy design left much to be desired…

It was a bright pink journal with glimmering sequins and came with a large bundle of pink ribbon. The journal had an ugly cartoon drawing of a pig in a princess dress along with her name ‘Miss Pigwin’ written in glitter across the top of the cover page. Ivan pulled out his phone and did a quick internet search to find out more about the Miss Pigwin notebook. Apparently, it was limited edition merchandise for some obscure children’s cartoon that never made it past 5 episodes. The idea behind Miss Pigwin was that kids could better understand their pets by helping them communicate with them. Kids were tie a piece of ribbon around an animal, and with Miss Pigwin's help, they would become their best friends. At least that was what the old advertisements promised anyway.

Obviously, the designers meant it to be used for pets like dogs and cats, so it was no wonder the pink journal was quickly discontinued after kids tried to tie ribbons around dangerous, wild animals instead. All in all, it was just cheap scraps of overly decorated paper for imaginative little girls. 

Ivan didn’t care much for the girly pink notebook. However, it was still a notebook at the end of the day, and the $5 price tag was too enticing to give up. He bought it and promptly returned to his apartment where his roommate Jesse was hosting a few of his frat friends over for beer pong. 

Ivan and Jesse were not friends but they were civil enough as roommates. Jesse wasn’t officially a part of a frat yet, but he already had the wild personality of a frat brother anyway. Jesse’s constant partying and drinking was annoying to Ivan, so he often made himself scarce—  as he did that night. He went about his usual nighttime routine and thankfully, by the time he sat down at his desk to journal, all of Jesse’s guests were gone. But just before he could touch pen to paper, Jesse came stumbling into the room.

“Hey, bro, you got any ribbon or string by any chance?” Jesse asked. Ivan hesitated saying yes right away.

“Maybe, what for?” 

“There’s this stupid Tiktok trend going on right now. Dudes are tying a piece of ribbon around their bicep and flexing until it breaks. The bros are saying I need to do every trend I see if I wanna continue rushing.”

“Cool, makes sense. Here, you can have it all. I don’t need it.”

Ivan took the bundle of ribbon that came with the Miss Pigwin journal and helped Jesse tie a piece around his bicep. Although Ivan did not like Jesse in that way, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited as he wrapped the ribbon around his straight roommate’s muscular arm. It was probably the only time he’d be that close to Jesse, so he relished in the moment as much as he could. Once it was tied, Jesse thanked him and left the room to record his Tiktok. Meanwhile, Ivan returned to his journal and began writing. 

March 12th - I am soo fucking h*rny. Sometimes, I wish my roommate would give in to his secret desires and just makeout with me already. 

Just as Ivan finished writing the last letter, a terrifying scream coming from the living room interrupted his journaling session. He quickly ran out with the pink journal in hand and saw Jesse straining himself to break the ribbon. No matter how hard he flexed, the pink ribbon stayed firmly wrapped around his bicep.

Although Ivan was worried about the pink ribbon constricting Jesse's arm, he couldn't help but stare at the massive bulge in his roommate's gray sweatpants. It was huge! Was Jesse hard? Ivan always had a feeling that his straight roommate was packing some serious heat downstairs, but he would've never guessed he'd be that big and thick! Just seeing his bulge was enough to make Ivan's jaw drop!

"Dude is this ribbon made out of fucking titanium or some shit! Where the fuck did you even get this!?" Jesse yelled out in anguish. It was enough to bring Ivan back down to Earth.

"I don't know! It came free with this weird notebook I found."

"Whatever!! Just go get the scissors! This shit's way too tight, my arm's starting to go numb!"

"Right! Hang on, I'll be right back!"

Uh oh!!

Just as Ivan turned around to go get the scissors, a sudden high-pitched voice made him stop dead in his tracks. It was a girl's voice, and it was coming from the notebook in his hands. Ivan looked down and froze from what he saw. The cartoon princess pig had come to life!

Uh oh!! It looks like our new friend isn't being a very good listener! Let's play some music to help clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing a melody while soft piano music played. The music had no effect on Ivan, but it did on Jesse. Jesse suddenly stopped fighting and just laid flat on the floor. Within seconds, he had gone from a pissed off jock trying to rip the ribbon off his arm to eerily calm and relaxed. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. Jesse had a dazed look in his eyes once he opened them. He had a dull, almost sleepy-like expression plastered on his face too. It was like he was sedated by simply listening to Miss Pigwin's song! Only once Jesse was fully relaxed did Miss Pigwin finally stop the music.

Yayyy!! No more distracting thoughts! Now what did our best friend tell us?

Ivan watched in awe as Jesse got up from the ground while massaging his protruding bulge. His movements were almost mechanical, like a mindless robot following orders. He then began walking towards Ivan while reciting what Ivan had written inside the Miss Pigwin journal.

"I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate."

It was incredible. Despite having never read it, Jesse kept repeating what Ivan had written over and over like a personal mantra!

Once Jesse closed the gap between them, Ivan got a good look how dilated his pupils were. It was quite the sight to see, though Jesse didn't give Ivan any time to react. Instead, he quickly joined his lips with Ivan's and kissed him roughly. Ivan was caught off guard by the surprise kiss but quickly matched Jesse's energy as the two kissed like it was their last night being alive. Ivan could hardly believe it. He had gone from merely tolerating his roommate's existence to making out with him in the same night! He felt himself light up with joy and pleasure as Jesse's hairy chest pressed against his with every kiss.

They continued at it for a while, locking lips until they gradually moved towards the couch. From there, they both discarded any remaining clothes they had on. Ivan hopped into Jesse's strong arms and went in for another deep kiss. He was shuddering with anticipation as he felt Jesse's rock hard boner tap against his butt. Luckily for him, it didn't take them much longer until they decided to get into position. Ivan spit onto Jesse's cock to lube it up, then guided it into his hole. A deep, sensual moan escaped his mouth as Jesse slowly thrusted his hips into him. Inch by inch, his dick disappeared into his ass. The room then filled with the sounds of men grunting and heavy, cum-filled balls clapping against Ivan's cheeks. Ivan was in heaven, while Jesse was in a trance with only one thought in his mind. Give into his desires, and makeout with his roommate.

Ivan woke up the next morning feeling like a brand new man after the amazing pounding he had received from Jesse. To say he was in a state of bliss would be a massive understatement! Even just remembering the feeling of Jesse's massive cock inside of him was enough to make Ivan smile with delight. But his grin quickly faded when he reached out for the Miss Pigwin journal and found it wasn't where he had left it before falling asleep. Even worse, he found a piece of pink ribbon had been tied around his wrist while he was sleeping.

"No... Nononono NOO!!"

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty! Looking for something?"

To Ivan's horror, Jesse was holding the Miss Pigwin journal and he looked furious! Although, despite the present danger, Ivan couldn't help but notice that Jesse still had the same ribbon tied around his bicep.

"Hey man... Let's put down the journal, and have a civilized conversation between adults. I promise it's not what it looks like, just let me ex-"

"Nahh FUCK that. I'm glad I woke up just before you did, otherwise I would've never found out what the fuck you did to me with this weird journal. You always gave me weird vibes but this? I... I don't even know where to start I'm so MAD!"

Jesse slammed a fist against the wall, startling Ivan. He then let out a maniacal chuckle as he pulled out a pen and opened the journal.

"Alright, Ivan, you wanna fuck up my mind so badly? Two can play at that game!"

Loud scribbling filled the room. Once he finished, Jesse read out loud what he wrote.

"Ivan's too serious for his own good. He needs to lighten up and join my frat so we can become best bros forever!!"

"...That's stupid. I'm not gonna do that."

"Are you sure?"

Uh oh!!

"I think Miss Pigwin might disagree with-"

Ivan smacked the book out of Jesse's hands, catching him off guard. The journal landed against the wall with a loud thud. Ivan wasted no time making a break for the journal. He bought himself a few seconds by smacking it away from Jesse. Those few seconds were all he needed to open the journal to a new page and write something down. In the heat of the moment, he could only think of one thing to write.

"Jesse's gay 4 me!"

"YOU FUCKER! ERASE THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!!"

Jesse grabbed the journal but Ivan had a tight grip on it. The two slammed into the nearby walls and furniture as they tried to wrestle it out of the other's hands. The Miss Pigwin journal was getting torn and crumpled up in the crossfire of their fight, but that didn't stop the princess from carrying out her sole purpose.

It looks- New friend- Good listener! Let's- Some music- clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing her soothing song, forcing both men into a hypnotic trance as they listened. They both fell to the ground screaming as the pink ribbons grew tighter around their bodies. They tried plugging their ears with their fingers, but it was already too late. The second they heard the first few notes of her song, Miss Pigwin was already deep within subconscious- ready to broadcast whatever was written in the journal directly into their brains. However, because the journal had gotten destroyed during the fight, Miss Pigwin's subliminal messaging turned out to be incredibly potent than usual.

Ivan fell back against the ground in a daze. He couldn't believe how discombobulated he was. It was like he was trapped underwater as he felt his mind beginning to clear of any and all thoughts. Ivan let out a heavy sigh as a powerful, cool calm filled his body. Soon enough, the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted to become a frat bro just like Jesse. Ivan repeated his new life mantra to himself as his mind became hyper focused on only one goal.

"I need to lighten up... I need to join a frat... I need to become best bros with Jesse..."

A lot of his engineering knowledge got wiped away from his mind to make room for his new personality. Mathematics and physics were replaced with workout regimes and a strong, itching need to drink and get laid. The partying lifestyle of the frat bro that once repulsed Ivan became as normal as breathing to the former homebody gay man. Ivan tried resisting against Miss Pigwin's conditioning. He tried reminding himself how much he loved a quiet night at home by himself. He tried recalling how much he hated loud, obnoxious men who did nothing but party and drink all night. But everytime he tried fighting against it, the little voice repeating his mantra grew louder and louder until all opposition was completely stamped out. Ivan had been reborn.

As he rose from the ground with an altered conscience and personality, the only thing on Ivan's mind was how to maximize his gains the next time he hit the gym. After all, how could he even dare to show his face around his frat brothers if he couldn't keep up with them in terms of bodybuilding?

Meanwhile, Jesse laid out sprawled on the ground as a calm stupor washed over his aggravated mind. Soon enough, his mind became a quiet place where only one thought remained.

"I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay... For Ivan..."

Jesse repeated the same sentence to himself until the words no longer felt foreign leaving his mouth. Soon enough, saying he was gay for Ivan felt as natural as saying his name. His desires to sleep with women melted away from his subconscious everytime he recited his new mantra.

Like Ivan, Jesse tried fighting against it. He tried remembering the taste and feel of a woman's touch, but it was no use against Miss Pigwin's powerful conditioning. His memories of being with women were quickly fading. In their place, a deep, profound love for his roommate-turned-loved began to take hold. Within minutes, Jesse wanted nothing more in life than to stand by his boyfriend's side and make sure he felt loved.

Once Ivan and Jesse woke up to their new personalities, Miss Pigwin finished her song, never to be heard from again due to the journal being in tatters. Jesse woke up with a headache and with a grinning Ivan by his side.

"Good morning my handsome boyfriend, how'd you sleep?"

"Amazing because I slept with you, my love." Jesse joined his lips against Ivan's. The two shared a deep kiss filled with passion, ending with a loud smack when they finally pulled apart.

"You ready for today? I can't wait to start the rushing process, then we can join together!" Ivan flashed a wide smile. Jesse wrapped his hands around Ivan's neck.

"The frat can wait till later. Right now, I want you all to myself."

He pulled Ivan in for another kiss. The two men then proceeded to fuck all morning, completely unaware of the strange circumstances that led them to that point. All thanks to a little princess pig on the cover of a bright pink notebook.

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.3

You can read the whole story on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here.

---

Danny was big. Like seriously big, with a tall frame and wide shoulders, but Tim didn’t think he had been for very long. He still moved his body as if he wasn’t quite used to the size of it yet. Maybe Tim should have been intimidated, but he was too used to big enemies and siblings to really take notice. 

No, what he had taken notice of was the prosthesis making up the other's left arm. A prosthesis that Tim would bet his whole hidden stash of coffee in the Batcave was homemade, a fact that had spurred him to start talking with the guy when he had spotted him sitting alone at lunch.

A prosthesis that currently lay on the table between Tim and Danny where they sat in an otherwise empty room usually used for construction and prototype testing.

Tim hovered with his hands over the arm as he looked up at Danny and asked for the third time, “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded, straightening the liner covering his now exposed upper arm. “Yeah, man. I’ve been doing this solo ever since— well, since I got it. If you could help me work out some kinks that would be great!”

Tim let his hands fall to the prosthesis, tilting it this way and that to get a better look at it as he took in the patchwork of metal. He didn't have any trouble believing that no one else had worked on it as it was clearly cobbled together from whatever Danny had been able to find. The soldering was stable, but looked patchy from where it had been stretched thin to cover what it needed to.

It was an impressive piece of machinery to have been made by one person, even more so from what were clearly scrap-pieces, but if Tim was being honest the most impressive thing was that it moved at all.

Considering its weight, its many functions, and the length at which Danny could use it without charge, there was no known source that could possibly power it. 

Danny had given him some vague explanation of batteries, sustainable energy, self-sufficiency, and a whole lot of nonsensical buzzwords. Tim might not be an expert in prosthetics, but even he knew that it wasn't possible to have batteries big enough to sustain it for a whole day, and small enough to keep the arm as lightweight as it was.

“So,” Tim said as he placed the arm back on the table. “What do you need help with?”

Danny looked up from where he was fiddling with the fingers of the prosthesis. “I can’t get the thumb to move but I'm thinking of adding something to make the articulation of the fingers better, so if you have any ideas about that I would love to hear it.” He perked up, “Oh! I also need to make it lighter, I think, so that I can keep it on for the whole day. It’s starting to become too heavy for me.” Danny gave a strained laugh. “Not getting any younger, you know?”

Tim didn't buy the excuse of age, Danny wasn't old by any means and he certainly was big enough to be able to support the weight, but he had noted that Danny didn't use the arm every day. Which meant that there was another reason for it. 

“Is this related to your… Illness?” Tim asked carefully.

Danny didn’t answer. Which in itself was answer enough.

“Can I ask… What it is?”

He really didn’t want to pry, but maybe Danny didn’t seek out treatment because he lacked the money for it. If so, Tim found that he wanted to help. “If it’s a question of money, then I can—”

“It’s not,” Danny cut him off. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Alright.” Tim dropped the subject as he reached for a small, closed hatch at the underside of the arm. “What’s this part? The power source, right?”

He had just managed to get it open an inch, peeking inside to see something glowing green when Danny snapped the lid shut with a harsh, “Don't touch that.”

Tim held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.”

Danny kept his eyes narrowed and fixed on Tim a second longer, but then relaxed. “No, I'm sorry. I just—It feels personal, okay?”

“Hey, no worries. I get it,” Tim assured him, trying to curb his own curiosity by reminding himself to feel grateful that Danny had trusted him enough to let him work on the arm to begin with. “Thanks for letting me take a look at it.”

“I know it’s not much,” Danny said self-consciously.

It was, but Tim understood what he meant; understood the frustration of being restricted by material things. Tim would love to see what Danny could do with better materials, and there were some benefits to being the son of the richest guy in town. 

“I might have some materials lying around, if you're interested. And I might have an idea about that thumb.”

Danny's whole face lit up.

Tim realized that they were actually starting to become friends. Wish meant that there was only one thing he could do in this situation.

——

Tim scanned the results of the background check he had just completed on Danny.

He had come up clean. Almost too clean. But he also came from a small city in the middle of nowhere; maybe there hadn’t been that many opportunities to get into trouble in Amity Park.

Tim had found no signs that Danny was in any way out to get them, which was great since Tim really didn’t have the time and energy to fight some new villain pretending to be his work-friend and coffee-buddy. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He did trust in Wayne Enterprise’s HR-department (and security department’s) ability to screen new employees but since he had started to run into Danny more often he wanted to investigate himself. But to his surprise, those accidental meetings seemed to just be actually accidental. So even if Tim had been burned one too many times, Danny was starting to look like an actually nice guy. No matter his big size, slightly uncanny looks, and cobbled together technology. The villains can’t get all the cool people, Tim thought smugly and found that he was more relieved than he wanted to admit that Danny had come up clean.

“A new friend?” Dick asked with a raised eyebrow and an infuriating smirk as he leaned over the back of Tim’s chair to get a better look at the screen.

“A colleague,” Tim corrected distractedly as he scanned the documents.

Danny almost seemed too perfect; a friend factory-made to suit Tim.

He liked coffee, he was witty, not afraid to tease him even though Tim was his boss, quick-witted, and had a big interest in technology and inventions. A fact that was proven in his work as well as his prosthetic arm.

In truth, Tim had already started to sneak Danny some projects under the table. Not bat-classed project, but… Maybe some personal things he had under development and would like a second pair of eyes on. And Danny’s insights had proven to be invaluable. Tim looked over his shoulder at the still-smirking Dick. Danny was also non-judgmental and non-infuriating, in contrast to certain other people that should not be named.

As if hearing his thoughts, Dick laughed and nudged his shoulder. “This is a thorough check for a colleague.”

Tim averted his eyes. Maybe it had been longer than he thought since he made a normal friend.

Dick smiled. “I’m glad it came up clean. You could really need some more friends.” 

Dick ignored Tim’s outraged “Hey!” as he scanned over the document before pausing with a frown. “Amity Park? Where's that?”

“No idea.” Tim clicked away on the computer. “Apparently a small town that mostly makes its living as a tourist trap. And their draw is…” Tim trailed off as he digested the last word before exclaiming, “Seriously?!”

Dick leaned in. “What?”

“Ghosts. The whole town claims to be haunted by ghosts.”

“Alright? That's eccentric, but it's not that strange.”

“No, it's just…” Tim dragged a hand through his hair. “It's the second time lately that ghosts have come up.”

And he really didn't want to associate Danny with the two lunatics from a couple of months ago.

“Well, maybe it’s a sign that you should change careers and become a ghost hunter! Can you imagine? A superhero ghosthunter!” Dick laughed and punched him in his shoulder.

Tim snorted and swatted at him. They were really lucky that ghosts weren't real.

——

Of course, after foolishly tempting fate, ghosts stayed not real for far shorter than Tim would have preferred. It wasn’t even a month later when his entire worldview reoriented itself (and really, he should be used to that by now) as that belief died and didn’t come back to life. Which seemed to be a rarity all of a sudden.

At first, they hadn't realized what they were; seemingly harmless and, most unsettlingly, impossible to catch. The blobby apparition had fazed through any and all containment devices they had tried to capture them in, and more often than not they hadn't even been able to touch them. None of their sensors worked, just spouting nonsense readings that fluctuated wildly.

The blobs were hard to handle but thankfully they weren't very destructive since they mostly caused confusion and some accidents brought on by gawking bystanders.They weren’t really attacking anyone—yet, the cynical part of Tim’s mind added—but they were causing enough of a panic to be a problem.

Thankfully, Gothamites generally knew to keep well away from new and unknown possible threats.

The real problem was that they had no idea what they were dealing with and no idea on how to make it go away, but overall Gotham’s green and glowing new decor didn’t really take president over all the daily attacks from both villains and normal criminals.

Tim had foolishly (once again, damn it Tim) believed that was it.

And then he got a message on his communicator masquerading as a cellphone summoning him to the cave for a new type of threat. Tim straightened up from where he had been sprawled over Danny's sagging armchair. “I'm sorry, I have to go. Something came up.”

“Oh?” Danny looked up, eyes immediately jumping from the video game on the TV to Tim. “You okay?”

Tim waved him off, feeling a bit guilty at the clear worry on his friend's face. “Yeah, yeah, nothing bad. Just… A family thing.”

Danny grimaced and Tim guessed he'd had his fair share of family things. He let go of the controller in his right hand, instead grabbing at his prosthetic left, rubbing at it as if in pain.

Tim got to his feet. “It was nice hanging out though. Same time next week?”

Danny's grimace immediately turned into a smile and even though it looked genuine, there was something strained at the corners. “Sure! Good luck with the family.”

There was real fear there, barely visible under the happiness. Tim reluctantly discarded the observation, reminding himself that his friend wasn't a mystery for him to solve. “Thanks. Good luck with the boss without me.”

Danny laughed and shucked a pillow at him. “As if your so-called skills make any difference.”

Tim ducked the soft projectile with a smile before leaving, mind already focusing on what new threat could have come up for him to be called in on one of his few nights off.

Said threat turned out to be an intangible, periodically invisible, glowing, and floating villain. All of those characteristics wouldn’t necessarily lead Tim to the conclusion that he was facing off against a ghost—Gotham was filled with a lot of weird people with even weirder powers—but what sealed the deal was the fact that this new villain just wouldn’t shut up about being one. The ghost of boxes, to be more specific.

Tim would say that he had higher hopes for his own afterlife, but who was he to judge?

And, sure, if that had been the end of it then maybe the easiest answer would have been that they were facing off against a man with very specific interests and an unfortunate chemical accident in his recent past (it had happened before, more than once) but now they were staring down a new villain every other week. All of them proudly proclaiming themselves to be ghosts, and all of them freaking every sensor and scan the Bats threw at them the fuck out.

So ghosts. Were apparently a thing.

Tim wished he was more surprised than he was.

So far, most ghost attacks would stop seemingly by themselves. The ghost in question would be mid-rant and mid-destruction, only for them to suddenly pause, eyes wide. Every time this happened, the ghost’s focus was directed at the group of innocent civilians unwisely trying to catch a glimpse of the action that always accumulated during attacks that weren't too destructive. Their leading theory was that the ghosts were simply scared of the living.

Which was lucky, because the ghosts were both frighteningly strong as well as too many for comfort. Tim was desperately looking for more dependable ways of combating them, but so far he had come up with nothing.

It was hard to fight an enemy you couldn't touch and they weren't used to feeling so powerless.

Which also meant that the small and round creatures that shared all the characteristics of the bigger ghosts, except for the fact that they were shaped more like jelly than people, were also—more than likely—ghosts. It had taken them a frankly embarrassing amount of time to reach that conclusion. Yes, Tim was well aware that Bruce was a world-known detective and that he himself was a genius. No, neither of them had mentioned this slow deduction to anyone.

All of this led up to Tim stumbling into work on a Wednesday, definitely late and definitely operating on way too little sleep. They had all stayed up late yesterday (or maybe it was today? It was hard to even think) facing off against a ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. Okay, facing off might have been an exaggeration. The truth of the matter was that they had ran. The risk of an unknown villain, someone with largely unknown powers and unknown motivations, getting into their tech had been enough of a threat to warrant a tactical retreat.

Which had proven to be a good choice since not even half an hour later there was an attack on their servers. And then another. And another. All of them seemingly from the same source. They had taken readings and scanned everything five times over, but the source of the attack seemed to adapt and change and move in a way that was almost… conscious.

Tim would swear off coffee forever if it turned out not to be the ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. They had been able to stay on top of the attacks but only barely, which was very worrying considering their top-of the line and frankly absurdly paranoid firewalls and assorted protections, as well as the fact that they had, well, Tim on their side.

He promised to never mock Bruce and his paranoid precautions again. At least for a week.

Thankfully they managed to contain the possible (probable) ghost in one of the computers stored in the basement by continuously upgrading and changing their fire walls. But this thing was learning and adapting faster than they could keep up with. It was only a matter of time before it broke out.

Too bad they had no idea who to reach out to. Or even where to start looking for a person who specialized in supernatural possession of computers. The science of ghost hunting didn’t exactly amass reputable scientists and inventors, or if it did, they were probably laying low so as to not get lumped in together with their more… eccentric colleagues. Understandably.

Which meant that trying to find a reputable expert on ghosts was as impossible as grabbing a hold of the ghosts themselves. But Tim knew that he would never be lucky enough for an expert to just stumble into his life, so they kept on searching.

So. No sleep. A whole work-day in front of him. If only he didn't have to keep up appearances. 

Tim tried to keep a brave face and go about his normal duties in his day job and nightly activities, but the threat hung heavy over his head. As well as the lack of sleep, but that didn’t feel as heroic.

Thankfully, his tiredness seemed to act as a homing beacon for his new friend and before he even sat down at his lunch table, Danny was there with two extra-large coffees.

Tim accepted one of them with teary eyes. “You’re a life-saver.”

Danny laughed. “At least I can keep you from joining me.”

And Danny did look tired. He always did.

He was holding his own coffee in his shaking right hand. Apparently the little tweaks and upgrades they had made on the arm hadn’t been enough to make it as reliable as he had wanted, if Danny chose not to use it. Instead it was hanging at his side, looking a little less cobbled together with a new top-plate and Tim felt happy knowing that Danny had taken him up on using the materials.

Tim had started to be able to anticipate what kind of day it was going to be just from how Danny held himself and today didn’t seem like a good one. He was still unsure of what exactly was wrong with his friend, but he was scared to ask again and risk offending him. Their relationship was still too new.

So Tim sipped his coffee and simply said, “I appreciate you keeping me alive.”

“We don’t need any more ghosts,” Danny muttered under his breath and took a sip from his own coffee.

The comment made Tim’s exhausted brain suddenly remember that Danny came from a town known for being haunted. It was a slim chance—since it probably was a cheap way of luring in tourists—but maybe Danny had some insights that could help them with the newly appeared ghosts. And especially the one trapped in the computer in the basement.

The only problem being that Danny had never revealed where he was from and Tim couldn't very well admit to doing a background check on him. That would probably ruin the mood since he was fairly certain that wasn't normal behavior between friends. Admittedly his perspective on what was normal or not was pretty skewed; something his siblings never hesitated to point out to him. Which was true, but they really didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to being normal. 

Tim made sure he sounded casual as he tapped the logo on his coffee cup and asked, “Hey, do they have Crabby Coffee where you’re from?”

Danny paused, something suspicious in his eyes. Then he smiled and asked in an almost casual tone of voice, “What, you don't believe I'm a local?”

Tim snorted. “You asked me if Arkham was an arcade just last week. Besides, you don’t have the right accent.”

“Fair,” Danny allowed with a shrug and a grin that was only slightly strained at the edges.

“So...?”

“I’m from Amity Park,” Danny said in a way that indicated that he didn’t like the fact, mumbling the last words as he looked away from Tim

Tim pretended to be surprised. “Amity? Never heard of it. Is it known for anything special?” And then he almost winced at his own clumsy and obvious fishing for information. Bruce would be so disappointed if he saw this. Okay, maybe he was more sleep-deprived than he thought.

It was lucky that Danny seemed distracted by some sort of inner conflict as he shuffled from foot to foot, not meeting Tim's gaze. “Well… It's a tourist thing…”

“Oh? Like what?” And now Tim was interested why Danny seemed so hesitant to share. Not a mystery, Tim reminded himself.

Danny deflated, looking defeated. “It's ghosts.” Then he switched to the overly-enthusiastic way of speaking inherent to all slogans, clearly mimicking some commercial, “Come on down to America's most haunted town! Guaranteed to scare the ghost right out of you!” and then in a fast paced mutter, “The city of Amity Park is not liable to retrieve any ghosts that decide to leave their bodies during your visit.”

Score.

“That's so cool!” Tim didn't even have to fake his interest as he asked, “Was it really? Haunted?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Danny hedged.

Tim gestured at Danny with his coffee cup. “I'm asking you.”

Danny paused with a worried frown on his face that he quickly tried to hide, looking at Tim intently as if he tried to work something out. Then he shook his head and simply said, “No.”

And it was the first time Tim had detected a lie from his new friend. Which meant that he did know something. Tim felt himself get excited at the prospect of a challenge, a mystery, and this time it was connected to their current problems which meant that it was fair game. He finally had a lead and he refused to let it go.

Why would Danny lie about his town being haunted? Was he scared of being made fun of? Didn’t he think that Tim would believe him? Ghosts was a rather eccentric thing for your town to be known for, maybe he had been ridiculed before.

Or maybe, a more jaded part of his brain supplied, he had been threatened to not say anything. Maybe he was hiding something.

Maybe Tim would have to show him some things related to ghosts and see how he reacted sooner rather than later.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It's not haunted.”

“Ah, so it's just a tourist trap, then? To make money?” Tim asked, trying to keep the excited interest out of his voice, trying to keep the conversation casual.

Danny wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, but it's nothing special. Just like any small town, you know?”

“Some people always take it a bit more seriously, right? There's always some believers,” Tim fished for more information. In every tourist attraction that claimed to be the home of Bigfoot or Mothman there was always someone who actually believed in what they were selling.

And if they believed, maybe they had some real information. Maybe even ways of combating them.

“Yeah, sure. There's those that believe and even—” Danny paused, swallowed, and then said, with real anger in his voice, “even some nut jobs that claim to study ghosts.”

Some people were studying ghosts? Tim made a mental note to look into them.

Danny cleared his throat as if embarrassed by his outburst and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Tim allowed the subject-change, not willing to push it and risk Danny suspecting him. “Haven’t you seen all the new villains on the news? They look kinda ghostly, don’t they?”

“Most newspapers write about them as if they’re a new kind of meta-humans.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tim shrugged. “But I don’t think ghosts would be much stranger.”

“You’re not scared?” Danny asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Of course!” Tim laughed. “But I don’t see why they would be more dangerous just because they’re dead. If anything, that only shows that they’ve already been killed once!”

Danny smiled at that and Tim took it as a win. His new friend might not feel comfortable opening up about everything just yet, but at least he could show that he’s open to talking about it when he was.

[writeyouin]

I dont know if this went through but can I get a valentines day request for tfa sentinel prime falling in love with a g/n human reader?

Sentinel Prime (TFA) X Reader – Making Alliances

Description: After the war between Earth and Cybertron ended, you were recruited to work alongside Sentinel Prime. Yet, he tries to make your job hard, determined to keep on hating humans. Yet, given time, he finds it almost impossible to dislike you, no matter how hard he tries.

A/N – I had such a basic bitch plan for this and instead it turned into one of my longer fics.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Guys, really, it’s fine. I’m fine,” You tried to assure the Autobots.

Optimus, Bulkhead and Ratchet looked at you doubtfully. Bumblebee looked more annoyed.

“Fine? How can you be fine with this? This reeks!” He exclaimed, waving his arms around.

You stifled a laugh at his over-dramatics. “Okay, I’ll admit, I never saw myself working with Sentinel, but… It’s not a terrible idea.”

Although you had your doubts, you believed what you said. Now that the war was over, and Megatron had been defeated, Cybertron had officially launched the Earth Alliance Program. Since the Autobots had been posted on Earth during the war, there was no point denying Alien existence, even though many Cybertronians didn’t think much of humans. Having been stationed on Cybertron for a week while you acclimatised, you had heard the hushed comments about how you weren’t advanced enough to be there, and how weak and fragile your frame was.

When the Autobots had come to your planet, they had faced their share of xenophobia, some of which continued to this day. Now that you were on their planet, you were beginning to get the same treatment.

In an attempt to bring your races closer together, Ultra Magnus had decided it would be best for you to be placed with a high-ranking officer, and as such he had made you Sentinel Prime’s assistant. Although he could have just as easily put you to work with Jazz, or left you with Optimus’ team, you understood his reasoning. If Sentinel could get over his prejudices, then anyone could. Besides, you still had one week left before you were to begin your work. In that time, you were expected to report any struggles that you had living on Cybertron.

In your first week, you had reported that the shower in your specially-made apartment was too hot, the cooking facilities were inadequate, and that you needed your own mode of transport so nobody else had to help you get around.

All the issues were addressed relatively quickly and now you had a motor-scooter which ran on autopilot. The vehicle did have a function for you to drive it yourself, but it had been dictated that you could not use that unless it was an emergency, otherwise you would be in breach of the first Cybertronian law written with humans in mind; it seemed that the governing body didn’t trust you to drive, though their fear and prejudice didn’t bother you too much.

“Are you even listening to me?!” Bumblebee waved his arms erratically.

While you had been lost in thought about your new position, he had been ranting about what a scrap heap Sentinel was.

You held up your hands placatingly, feeling a tiny pang of sadness that Prowl wasn’t there. It used to be him that ended Bumblebee’s tirades but… Well, everyone knew that war had its casualties; you just wished that it didn’t have to be someone you knew.

“Yes, I’m, listening. But seriously Bumblebee, you don’t have to worry about me. It’s just a job.”

‘A job I feel massively underqualified for,’ You added in your head, thinking how you had only been chosen because you met the Autobots by chance and they trusted you as their second human liaison.

Sari would also start her life on Cybertron, but seeing how she was techno-organic and only a teenager, she was going to school to learn about her Cybertronian heritage and culture.

Jazz and Bulkhead were going to stay on Earth, and Optimus was going to travel between both planets in an attempt to cement the worlds’ budding relationship. So, for a while, you would be alone, at least in a working capacity. Granted, Ratchet and Bumblebee would be nearby, but this was something you would have to do on your own.

“Alright,” Bumblebee grumbled. “But if he’s a glitch-head, get me and I’ll kick the scrap outta him!”

“You and what army?” Ratchet commented drily.

You chuckled and thanked Bumblebee, touching his arm to soothe him. A blush dusted his cheeks.

“Uh games night?” He said hurriedly, attempting to hide his feelings before racing off to where Sari was waiting for you all.

You ignored his flush red, fully aware of how he felt about you. You knew that was a conversation that the two of you would have to have one day, but you waited for the day he might bring it up. Besides, since this was the last night everyone would be together for a while, you didn’t want anything to jeopardise the fun, especially when faced with something as tough as unrequited love.

“I’m here,” You said breathlessly, shooting through the automatic door just in time for work.

Sentinel glared at you. He had been counting on you being late so that he could complain about you to anyone who would listen afterwards.

“So… What would you like me to do, Sentinel Prime, Sir?” You bowed formally. There was no need to do so, but you hoped that by addressing him with such respect, he might warm to you somewhat. Having met him once or twice before, you knew how arrogant he could be and had decided for an easy life it might be better to stroke his ego somewhat.

Your gambit paid off as Sentinel forgot whatever sharp insult he was about to say. Instead, he blustered, puffed out his chest and managed to order you to stay out of his way while he did his job.

“Sorry Sir, but Ultra Magnus ordered me to help you in whatever way I can.”

“I know that! It doesn’t matter. I don’t need your help. Just stay out of my way and at the end of all this, we can tell Ultra Magnus to have you reassigned.”

“No, sir,” You said adamantly, standing your ground.

“What?” Sentinel spat, his lip curling.

“I’m here to work with you. I won’t be shunted to the side just ‘cos I’m human. Our planets worked together to capture Megatron, now we have to work together to show that our races can do the same.”

Sentinel stared menacingly at you. He didn’t want to be anywhere near you. You were small, organic, filthy. With that in mind, he wished you would just leave. He didn’t want any of your gross germs on him. Yet, it seemed that you were also stubborn in your mission.

“Fine,” He said after a minute, though it was clear he wanted to tell you where to go. “Just don’t do any of that gross human stuff. If you sneeze-” He didn’t finish his sentence, shuddering at the thought.

You gave him a thumbs up, “No sneezing, got it.”

With that, Sentinel finally gave you some work to do, and you began what was sure to be a rocky relationship.

Working with Sentinel was difficult.

Sometimes, he would barely give you any work at all, insisting you use your ‘initiative’ to find tasks that would aid him. On other days, he would pile your workload impossibly high, and if you were struggling to understand the reports that he had ordered you to complete, that was your fault and he wouldn’t help you.

Either way, at the end of the shift, he would get to kick back at the bar and complain that you either didn’t understand the job or couldn’t keep up with the tasks provided to a bunch of equally closed-minded mechs who wanted to see you fail.

Still, you didn’t complain, doing your best to learn all you needed to succeed. To Sentinel it was infuriating, but you knew that if you complained, it would validate everything he thought about you, no matter how unfair it was.

Fortunately, you learned how to better work around him by talking to him with the utmost respect, complimenting him, and generally getting him talking about himself. On days when he indulged you with stories of his glory days, he was a little kinder, occasionally throwing you a bone and helping you out a bit with some of your workload, or sometimes instructing you on things you had been struggling with.

Still, your working relationship wasn’t great and wouldn’t be viable unless something changed.

Such a day finally came when Sentinel had the terrible idea that you should be faster, and very suddenly presented you with his patented human speed shoes… They were rollerblades.

“I can’t use these,” You sighed when he threw them at you, too afraid to hand them to you in case you touched him.

“You can and you will,” Sentinel harrumphed.

“Sentinel, I can’t rollerblade, at least not with all the things I have to carry about, and-”

“Is this you refusing to work, human?”

You rolled your eyes. Not only was he seeking an excuse to stop working with you, but he was also playing his trump card by calling you human instead of using your name; he did that whenever he wanted to instil a feeling of power imbalance upon you.

“Fine,” You sighed, giving in. “I’ll wear the damn rollerblades.”

“Speed-shoes,” Sentinel corrected.

“Speed-shoes,” You conceded, finding him to be extra impossible.

As you had told Sentinel, using the rollerblades for work was impossible, especially when you were carrying a stack of oversized datapads that you couldn’t see over, since Sentinel was also being unreasonable about your workload.

It started as a stumble on one of the higher walkways that had been provided like scaffolding around the office for you to work with. Yet, instead of falling, you dropped the datapads, tripped backwards, and screamed as you fell over the handrail.

While Sentinel was mostly paper-pushing since the war was over, he was still trained for battle. He hurriedly spun around at the sound of your scream and ran to catch you. While he was timely in his rescue, he wasn’t gentle and he blanched at the sound of bone snapping.

He expected you to cry out again, but you were worryingly quiet upon the realisation that your leg had broken.

“(Y/N)!” Sentinel yelled your name. His processor skipped over the necessary sentences as he scrambled to think of what to say next. He was stuck between asking if you were okay, even though you clearly weren’t, ordering you not to tell anyone about the speed shoes that had caused the accident, and demanding you to tell him how to fix you.

“I- I-” Tears streamed from your eyes.

Sentinel was taken aback by how pale you were and how unusual it felt to hold you. He was certain he would drop you if any liquids came out of you, yet here you were crying and all he wanted to do was hold you closer and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

You were soft and warm and… completely unexpected.

“R-Ratchet,” You managed to say between your sniffles and grunts of pain, pulling the rollerblades off, even though it hurt to move.

“Right!” Sentinel exclaimed, snapping out of his silence.

He transformed into vehicle mode, grimacing when it caused you more pain to be jostled about, then he sped to the medical school where Ratchet was spending his twilight years, passing on his knowledge to another generation of bots.

“What in tarnation is going on here?” Ratchet demanded of Sentinel as he held you out to the older bot in the safety of a private med-bay.

“I-(Y/N)-” Sentinel stammered, feeling the pressure of Ratchet’s stern glare.

“I fell,” You said weakly to Ratchet.

“Fell, huh?” Ratchet said doubtfully. “Where are your shoes, kid?”

You shook your head, indicating that it didn’t matter, but Ratchet was an astute old bot, and he shot a scathing to look at Sentinel, even though you hadn’t sold him out.

“Really, Ratchet. It- it was my f-”

“Never mind that, kid. Let’s get you seen to.”

Although Sentinel wanted to leave, he stayed, mostly because he couldn’t fathom why you hadn’t told on him. He regretted that decision when Ratchet asked him to chat privately after treating you. By that point, you were too tired to protect Sentinel further, and the pain medication had made you somewhat woozy. Besides, even if you had been in any shape to argue, you couldn’t keep up with either of them on a bandaged leg, and without assistance you couldn’t get down from the medical berth provided.

Once Ratchet had got Sentinel out of your sight, he began yelling, “I don’t know what you did, but you're darn lucky that kid isn’t selling you out! That’s far more loyalty than you’d ever give to them!”

“Wha-” Sentinel spluttered, offended and slightly intimidated by the older bot.

“Don’t you dare try to explain yourself to me! Young bots are all alike, all arrogance and no spark. Do you know how long it takes for an injury like that to heal in humans?! AND (Y/N) WILL BE TRAPPED HERE FOR A FEW DAYS, BORED AND ALONE SINCE YOU KEEP TELLING EVERY DAMNED BOT WHO’LL LISTEN TO YOU HOW LITTLE YOU THINK OF HUMANS!”

“I-” Sentinel held up a finger to argue, but Ratchet slapped his servo away.

“Don’t you dare try to argue with me,” He said dangerously. “I’ve seen (Y/N) a few times since she started working with you. You’ve overworked that poor kid for no reason at all, and let me tell you something- That kid won’t quit. You can pile on all the work you want, and (Y/N) will do it. They’ll exhaust themself to do anything you ask, all because they’re the bigger person and want to be friends.”

Ratchet barked a mirthless laugh, continuing his tirade, “Friends, HAH! But you won’t let that happen, will you, Mr. Bigshot. No, ‘cos you’re so superior. Well, anything to say for yourself now?”

Sentinel looked somewhat ashamed and contrite after Ratchet’s verbal rebuke, yet he let his anger bubble up and overtake him.

“I am your superior officer,” He spat contemptuously.

Ratchet shook his head, disgustedly. “Then lead by example and do something worthy of the title.”

The older bot was about to walk away, but Sentinel wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction, so he stormed ahead first, rushing back to the room you were stuck in.

“Come on (Y/N), I’m taking you home.”

“I just told you (Y/N) has to stay here,” Ratchet yelled, catching up.

“Not if there’s someone to take care of them.”

“And you’re gonna do that?”

“Yes!”

Sentinel picked you up, more gently than before, and this time, he was extra careful as he transformed so as to spare you any discomfort.

He wasn’t entirely certain whether to take you to your own home or his, but after some thought about organic fuels and how much effort you would have to put into traversing his sizeable house, he opted for taking you to your place, next door to the techno-organic and down the road from that insufferable Bumblebee.

Sentinel especially hated the contentious yellow mini-bot since he always found reasons to bother you at work and it was a massive distraction. It didn’t help that Bumblebee was obviously head over pedes for you and that he had no respect for Sentinel at all; he only ever left at your insistence, and always with an insult for Sentinel about the workload he gave to you.

Hm… your workload. Sentinel couldn’t help thinking about what an aft he’d been of late.

“When you’re fit for work, I think you should take it easy. No more 12 groon days.”

A groon on Cybertron was more or less an hour, and you nodded along sleepily in understanding, grumbling a half-word that didn’t make sense outside of your head.

“Hey, are you listening?”

Your eyes shut heavily and you could barely lift them open to respond.

“Great, I suppose I have to take you to bed now too?” Sentinel complained, covering just how worried he was that you were acting out of the ordinary.

When he got you home, Sentinel struggled to take care of you; he had very little knowledge on humans, except that they had corrosive spit, though most were apparently too civilised to use it. Your house was a hybrid of human-sized equipment and catwalks, and lounge space for several Cybertronians, yet having never been there before, Sentinel didn’t know the layout, nor did he understand what half your appliances did, or what certain rooms were for.

He did manage to find your bed and lift you up to it, but after that, he felt like he should be doing something more to help. You were recharging now, but you would probably need things when you woke up.

Stuck on what to do, Sentinel reluctantly knocked on your neighbour’s door.

“What do you want?” Sari asked obnoxiously, annoyed to have been interrupted in the middle of the day, right after she had returned from class.

“I- I-” Sentinel made an effort to swallow his pride, an act which took a good five minutes. “I need your help.”

It took Sari about 10 minutes to stop laughing, but she got very serious when Sentinel begrudgingly explained that you were injured and that he didn’t know how to help you. After seeing you in bed, sleeping off the pain medication that Ratchet had administered, Sari explained very carefully how long it would take for your leg to heal, and what Sentinel had to do in the few coming days to help you out, such as placing a water bottle by your bed, and making sure your crutches were in reach.

Sentinel listened to everything she said, ignoring the back-handed insults that came his way, then after Sari left, he settled into the bot-sized lounge, waiting for you to wake up. He put the TV on, watching a show from Earth you had left in the player, synching the volume to his audials, but keeping it low all the same in case he needed to hear you wake up.

Having watched several episodes of the comedy show you had, Sentinel had to admit, it was pretty funny… for something humans had made. The idea of Ghosts being so ridiculously stupid did amuse him.

You woke up quietly, sucking in pain through your teeth as the medication you had been given started to wear off. Admittedly, you were surprised to see Sentinel in your house, even though you vaguely remembered him promising that he would be there.

It was amusing to see him actually having fun for once. Usually, he was tense and angry around you; you hadn’t realised he could be happy without putting someone else down.

You tried to get up without disturbing him but the crutch clattered to the floor before you could grab it.

“(Y/N),” Sentinel stood up quickly. “How are you feeling? Do you need Ratchet again?”

“I’m-” You thought about saying you were fine, as was the expected social response. Instead, you decided to answer truthfully. “I’m tired, but my leg was bothering me a bit.”

“It’ll be fine,” You added hurriedly before he could rush off to get help you didn’t need, “It’s just sore.”

Sentinel nodded. “From what I understand, it will be painful for some time,” He didn’t mention that by that he also meant the memory of inadvertently hurting you.

You nodded with a tired smile, “Yeah… Could be worse though. Thank you, for getting me help.”

“Thank… Thank you for your loyalty.”

You nodded again, “Yeah uh… You- You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. I can take care of myself.”

Sentinel would have gladly left if he didn’t feel so responsible for you. “I need to stay for a while if you are comfortable with me being here.”

“Okay,” You agreed, reaching again for your crutches so you could go to the bathroom.

Sentinel hurried to pick them up for you. “Okay,” He agreed solemnly.

Sentinel was surprisingly attentive to you. Although you only needed him for a day or so, he insisted on staying the full week. After that, he brought work to you for a while, afraid that if you returned to the main work base, you’d somehow make your recovery take longer.

Yet, the reports that he brought you were easier than before, confirming your suspicions that he had initially made your job harder than it needed to be; the deadlines were also laxer, and he took the time to explain a few things to you.

He stopped complaining about you to bots at the bar, and now on the odd occasion you sneezed or cleared your throat, he didn’t flinch or make nasty comments. In short, he was getting used to you, and you realised that when he tried, he could be very nice.

The peace was short lived however when Bumblebee came over to visit for the fourth time since you’d been hurt.

“You should quit,” He told you, point-blank, having abandoned the video game the two of you had been playing.

“Excuse me?” You asked, wondering what had prompted his response this time.

“Quit! Go back to working for the correct Prime. Optimus would treat you better and he wouldn’t make you work when you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick. A broken leg is not a sickness.”

“It’s an injury,” Bumblebee said accusingly, raising his voice.

“Bumblebee, this is for our races to work together. This is a good start.”

Bumblebee blushed. The way you spoke so passionately about your races working together made him think that you were talking about more than work… Maybe, you were talking about you and him. Together.

“Besides,” You added, “Working for Sentinel isn’t half-bad, you know. He’s- He’s been kind to me.”

Bumblebee froze at the look on your face. Pink-dusted cheeks, a soft smile that he had imagined would be reserved for him, the way your eyes glazed over almost dreamily when you spoke about Sentinel. No, no! This couldn’t be happening. You could not get feelings for that pompous, arrogant, pile of SLAG!

“How did you get hurt?” Bumblebee asked, dangerously quiet, though you missed the intention behind his tone.

He had asked you before, but you rattled off an excuse about being careless.

“I already told you,” You started, only to be cut off by a Bumblebee who was angrier than you’d ever seen him before.

“HOW DID YOU GET HURT?!”

“Bumblebee-”

“HOW?! IT WAS HIM WASN’T IT!”

“I-”

Bumblebee ran out of your house, transforming as soon as he was on the streets. He was determined to give Sentinel a piece of his mind.

It took a while for Bumblebee to find Sentinel, not knowing the places that the Prime frequented. Yet, he eventually found him leaving a store with a small box that fit under his arm.

Bumblebee rushed at Sentinel, throwing a punch against the larger bot’s jaw. Had he been prepared, Sentinel might have faired better, but as it was, he dropped the box he was carrying and stumbled backwards, against the alley wall.

Bumblebee tried to pin him but Sentinel pushed him back, grappling his arms.

“WHAT THE FRAG ARE YOU DOING?” Sentinel demanded as the two struggled, holding each other’s shoulder plates and trying to get the better of their opponent.

Bumblebee headbutted Sentinel in the chassis to little effect, “IT’S YOUR FAULT (Y/N) GOT HURT! ADMIT IT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Bumblebee waited for the adamant denial Sentinel was known for. He pushed Sentinel back, readying his stingers, and only stopping when Sentinel answered.

“Yes.”

Bumblebee stopped in his tracks, mouth agape. Sentinel had never once taken responsibility for his actions.

“What?”

“It was my fault,” Sentinel admitted bitterly.

For the first time since finding him that night, Bumblebee really looked at Sentinel. “Why? Why now? After all this time, you finally admit to something…”

“It’s not natural…” Sentinel said more to himself than to Bumblebee. He was thinking about his feelings towards you, certain that it wasn’t right for a Cybertronian to feel anything romantic towards a human. He bent down to pick up the box which had spilled its contents onto the floor.

Bumblebee glanced down finding that it was all things for humans. Imported books from Earth, snacks you had been known to eat, herbal tea that Ratchet often recommended, and some pain medication.

Bumblebee picked up the tea, staring at it morosely before handing it to Sentinel who took it warily.

“(Y/N) doesn’t like that flavour,” He said quietly.

“I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bumblebee nodded. He didn’t apologise for his actions, though it was implied in his tone when he addressed Sentinel for the final time that night, “Take better care of them. They’re everything to me.”

Sentinel nodded, watching Bumblebee walk away afterwards. He stayed there a few minutes longer before heading over to your house to gift you the things he had bought.  

Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi

[avatarmerida]

I don’t have enough brain cells to do more with this idea but I always think about how in a panel they once joked about Hunter getting his drivers license in the human realm and idk if that’s secretly canon or a scrapped idea or a joke but I don’t care because I’m obsessed with the idea of a Camila teaching him how to drive and how he defiantly drives the exact speed limit at all times and overly checks his mirrors.

And then he gets his license and Willow has permanent shotgun and he looks at her looking out the window under the guise of checking his mirror but she’s almost like a dog the way she loves to stick her head out the window and feel the wind in her hair. She takes it out of her braids so her won’t lose her hair tie and Hunter is like 😳

And Gus in exchange for allowing Willow front seat not only had the whole backseat to himself but he’s in charge of music. They have special aux cord for Luz’s old iPod and they jam out to like Simple Plan and Avril but Hunter is a pro at not being distracted because he takes safety very seriously. But he loves to hear Willow and Gus try to guess the words as they still sing along at the top of their lungs.

And like at every stop light when a care pulls up next to them, Gus is like “Hunter, you gotta race them!” And Hunter of course is like “No.” and then Gus starts chanting and Willow joins in and he considers for a brief moment but of course he can’t betray Camila’s trust so he doesn’t give in. Willow and Gus still treat it like he’s racing, cheering at every car he passes.

They def always ask to go the drive thru and he’s a very big “we’ve got food at home” person but then always ends up turning into the parking lot as a surprise. Can you just imagine Hunter ordering off the dollar menu and treating like a big mission while Gus is in the back trying to decide what to get because he loves human food so much and there just so many choices? And then since Hunter is a very strict “hands on the wheel at all time” dude, Willow feeds him his fries so he can focus on driving. At one point she offers him a sip of her soda and if he wasn’t operating a vehicle he would pass away at the idea that his lips have been where hers have been.

Then at some point they’re driving home and car in front of them stops suddenly and Hunter hits the break, sending them all flying forward. They’re safe, always having their seatbelts on but instinctively, Hubter reaches out his arm in front of Willow as though to help stop her. But when he does, the placement of his arm is rather… compromising 😉 and Hunter freaks out and starts apologizing but Willow assures him it’s okay and Gus breaks the tension by blasting another song.

Also maybe he wears his Cosmic Frontier costume in his license photo because it’s an important document and he wants to look his best.

[kiyokostan]

EXTRAORDINARY MACHINE!

Chapter Three: how to win a guy in 10 days

WARNING: jokes about suicide, not explicit mention of sex

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

i apologize yall this one is kind of a mess because tumblr only allows 10 pictures per post and i got a bit carried away lol, but here it is! i hope you guys enjoy it 

also so many people in the taglist?? holy shit?? thank you guys sm it means a lot to me seriously

- extras:

- iwa thought he was hallucinating when he saw yn's text

- yn getting yelled at by her supervisor is my worst fear. nothing scarier than getting yelled at by a nurse

- last chapter i had planned for noya to have a little crush on yn but i feel so bad doing that to him that i just scrapped the idea i'm sorry

taglist!!

@juie13

@froyaoya

@nnnyxie

@food8me

@whosmarjj

@mfcherry

@bakugouswh0r3

@wave2mia

@gsyche

@beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin

[teamskulladventures]

🎧🖤☠️🪲🎧🖤☠️🪲🎧🖤☠️🪲🎧🖤☠️🪲

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Current Team:

Sylveon, Gothitelle, Ribombee, Comfey, Vivillon (Marine)

Guzma:

•A few weeks had passed since your outing with Guzma and in that time you've gotten accustomed to the rest of the gang.

•You spend your days, battling, hanging out, and going on more adventures with Guzma that the two of you had gotten pretty close.

•Today was like amy other day in Alola, sunny, hot and perfect for some battling and relaxing.

•Sitting amongst the many flowers of Ula'Ula Medow you brush your Ribombee, thanking them for giving it their all against Guzma.

•Guzma: *Stretching before seating himself next to you* Augh! Haha you did pretty good out there today. Swore you almost had me beat this time.

•(Y/N): *Giggling* Hmpf You really think so?

•Guzma: Ehhh. .

•You playful punch his side while your Ribombee proceeds to circle around Guzma.

•Guzma: Haha hey! I do mean it! You're crew put up a good fight. Shame you don't have more.

•(Y/N): Tsk well you knowww, you could just not use all your team!

•Guzma: And wheres the fun in that? *Guzma is now petting your Ribombee* From what it sounds like you just don't want to get another member. Why is that?

•You sort of give him a side glare, not the mean kind, more along the "are you seriously asking that?" variety.

•Looking you up and down, Guzma laughs to himself while ruffling his hair.

•Guzma: Right! Right! You have your theme thing going on.

•(Y/N): *You playfully scoff* As if! Says the guy who only specializes in one type!

•Guzma: Come onnn! That ain't so strange now. Plenty of trainers specialize in one type! Not that many have a theme as intense as yours though. *he starts waving his hands to try and backpeddle once he sees the lool on your face* Not.. Not that it's weird or anything! Just makes it pretty limiting. Hmmm.

•Guzma starts to think about any Pokemon that would come to mind that might align with your style.

•(Y/N): Hehe. Any grand ideas genius?

•Guzma: *He waves you off* Tsk girl let me think!

•You roll your eyes. Typical leave it to the bug specialist to only have bugs on his mind. This wasn't the first case his bug brain got you in hot water. Barely scrapped by during last weeks triva night when the topic of "who:s that pokemon" was assigned to his and yours team. You were doing so well up until that poimt until Mr."The bad boss who beats you down and never loses" made you look like a fool due to his lack of pokemon knowledge beyond just bugs!

•To be fair it's not like you had any luck either. Growing up you only familiarized yourself with Pokemon that you deemed "pretty" to some extent.

•Which became your downfall when forming a proper team for the Alola Trials as you became the picky type when searching for Mons'.

•Being on an island was already limiting in its own right to the kinds of Pokemon that could inhabit it so sucking it up and traveling with three Pokemon has been your norm thus far.

•The sound of Guzma standing up rapidly only to shout "I got it!", snapped you back into reality.

•He was holding out his hand ushering you to stand were he promptly started dragging you along near the docks.

•(Y/N): Yo Yoahhhh! Whe. . where are we going?!!

•Guzma: Uhh the boats? Where else?

•(Y/N): Isn't it a bit early to be going on some grand adventure right now?

•Guzma: Nope! Perfect time! Ain't no one's gonna be around besides us taking that boat to Akala.

•(Y/N): What?!? I thought you hated leaving Ula'Ula island? Besides aren't you kinda banned from taking the boats?

•Guzma: Yeah so? What are they gonna do, fight me? Now move it or lose it! I wanna get to Akala and off of it as soon as I can!

•(Y/N) *Catching up to Guzma's speed* Ack! Alright! Arceus you're so pushy!

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•Walking through Lush Jungle you couldn't believe how peaceful this place could be. Thanks to your trial and all the trainers, you hardley spent any time in this forest.

•Since it was stupid early in the morning any trainers that did cross your path quickly turned the other way when the noticed Guzma with you.

•The hum of pinsirs and wooshing sounds of trees swaying made this forrest feel otherworldly. Being able to walk past various Pokemon from Butterfrees to Morelulls was lovely as well. From what you remember from your trial, many of the Pokemon were hiding away from the comotion of trainers and of those that were around fled the scene when the Totem Laurantis appeared.

•Walking around aimlessly, admiring all that was around you, Guzma had finally pulled you back to reality, calling you over to show you something.

•(Y/N): Ouhh uh Yeah! I'm coming! *You run over to where you heard his voice as your body is pulled to the ground* Dude! Warn a girl next time you want to get all handsy!!

•Guzma: Shhhs if you stay quiet we can get this done and over with before more people spot me!

•(Y/N): Oh! SORRY! Ever the informative are we? You have a terrible habit of being so secretive you know that?

•Guzma: SHH!

•(Y/N): UGh!

•Sitting in awkward silence you begin to wonder what you guys were waiting in a bush for. Well logic would dictate it has to be a Pokemon but what did Guzma know that you didn't? There were nothing but bug types and fomantis around that didn't exactly interest you.

•Waiting and waiting and waiting some more you jolt into alertness when Guzma starts rapidly tapping on your shoulders trying to guide your sight to what he spotted.

•Guzma: Look! Look! Look!

•(Y/N): Whatttt! I'm looking. I'm Looking!

•Guzma: *He spins you around so that you can face his direction. He points to a nearby clearing* See! Now's your chance!

•(Y/N): Chance for whaaa whoahh!

•You've been pushed into the clearing where a Comfey can be seen flying about. The Pokemon is a bit frightened by the sudden appearance of you, but it doesn't immediately run away.

•(Y/N): *You turn back to face Guzma* So this is what you dragged me out here for?!

•Guzma: Yes! Now quit talking and get to catching that Comfey before it runs away!!

•Turning back to face the wild Comfey you noticed it was gone. Feeling a tad sad you let it get away, and after all the waiting Guzma did, you turn to face Guzma again but there was the Comfey. It was entrenched, as it circled your body with awe and wonder. You were wearing a pastel yellow dress, with a nice fluffy petticoat underneath. The pattern resembled a florgess playing amongst a field of wildflowers and sparkles. This wild comfey must have mistaken the flowers and ruffles to be real petals as it inched closer to get a better look.

•You slowly reached out to it, as it drew back only to realize that your hand wasn't a threat. The comfey allowed you to gently stroke it  but any more than that and you were sure it would run away.

•Your other hand began to search for any pokeballs tucked away in your bag. Finding one and presenting it to the comfey you were surprised when it brushed up against it. It didn't go in just yet. Flying back into the middle of the clearing the Comfey looked at you with seriousness and determination in its eyes.

•Guzma: *smugly* I think you're gonna have to earn its capture dollface!

•(Y/N): *shrugging* at least its giving me the time of day. I was for sure it was gonna fly away the second I popped up.

•The comfey waiting in anticipation you decided to send out your Ribombee as the battle began.

•(Y/N): Ribombee use Pollen Puff! *a blast of pollen knocks the comfey back yet despite the shove it seems unscaved* Wait .  uhhh? I thought that was for sure a knockout or at least a bigger impact.

•Guzma is currently cackling in the bushes at your confused state.

•Guzma: Ahah oh man. . gets em every time.

•(Y/N): Huh? Ah! Wait Ribombee dodge that! *The comfey goes for a sweet kiss which your Ribombee narrowly dodges*

•Guzma: Listen (Y/N), bug moves ain't gonna do shit.

•(Y/N): *to yourself* Oh great! Another Pokemon who looks nothing like its type.

•With a failed Pollen Puff you decided to go with a dazzling gleam which didn't do a whole lot either but at least it was slightly more effective.

•Despite its flowery appearance this Comfey was tough, huh sounds familiar. This onlt made you want to get them even more.

•With a bit more dazzling gleams you noticed the Comfey was getting weaker but your own Ribombee wasn't doing so hot either.

•Welp this was your only chance to make it work and you only had three Pokeballs on your person.

•Throwing one, the Comfey went out of it as quickly as it went in.

•Damn. It must not be that weak yet. Standing in that forrest you tried thinking of a strategy that would make this Comfey weaker without knocking it out. Another dazzling gleam would be too strong but maybe another pollen puff would do the trick but would that not be enough and if so would your Ribombee survive the next attack? You decided to give it a shot with Pollen Puff again, and lucky for you the Comfey survived. Now you just had to make sure Ribombee had the stamina to dodge.

•Flying around Ribombee was unfortunately unable to dodge the next attack but with grit it held out for you. You needed to catch this Comfey or your certain Ribombee wouldn't be able to hold on any longer. Attempting for the second time you threw the Pokeball and in Comfey went.

•*Shake Shake Shake*

•But it broke out. Damn.

•Not wanting to subject Ribombee any longer to the battle you decided to throw your last Pokeball praying to Arceus that it would work. The Pokeball began to shake again.

•*Shake. Shake. Shake.*

•*Click*

•A sigh of relief left your body as you ran to your new friend.

•Picking up the Pokeball you excitedly showed it off to Guzma who looked just as relieved as you did that the process was now done. The sun shown brighly between the tree tops as a gentle breeze filled the air. It was quiet. . . too quiet.

•Your celebration was short lived as the ground shook beneath your feet. Looking at the time on your phone it read 12:38. From the sounds of the shaking and the timing you knew that Mallow's trial was starting soon as the Totem Guardian Laurantis was currently walking around the forest.

•(Y/N): Uhhh Guzma . . we need to

•Guzma: Leave!! Yep already on it.

•The two of you start booking it trying to avoid the foliage and any trainers now entering the forrest. Looking back at the clearing your eyes go wide as the totem Laurantis is already hot on its pursuit towards you. For all it knows you to are just normal trial goers and sees no reason to stop.

•Trying to high tail it faster, running in heeled boots was not doing you any favors.

•(Y/N): Guzma!!! Wait!!!!

•He turns back to look at you, sighs, and runs back to grab you.

•In a blur you no longer feel the ground beneath your feet as Guzma has lifted your body and is currently carrying you bridal style out the forest and back to the docks.

•You only look up at him, blushing madly at him carrying you like this, as you grip onto his shoulders.

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•Catching your breath on the boat you didn't pay any mind to the onlookers as you laughed along with Guzma about what went down today.

•(Y/N): *Giggles* I can't believe you managed to carry me and run that fast at the same time!

•Guzma: Well yeah? I was fighting for my life! You know if someone *He says poking at your cheek* decided to wear something else besides heals I wouldn't have had to worry.

•(Y/N): *You playfully tease* Awww you worry about meeee?

•Guzma: Tsk you know I should have just left you in the forest.

•(Y/N): Hahhehe but cha didn't!

•Guzma: *rolls eyes*

•(Y/N): Besides I think you liked carrying me! My knight in shining sweatpants. I mean why else did you feel the need to still carry me even out of the forest.

•Guzma: *blushes* Shu. Shut up. I was just rushing to get us back to the boat.

•(Y/N): Hmmm alright whatever you say, but *snicker* hahaha you still almost tripped on the pyukumuku!

•Guzma: It ain't MY fault those damn things are so tiny. Your boi almost ate shit today and here you are . . laughing!

•(Y/N): *in a semi-mermer* well it wasss kinda funny.

•Guzma: *blushing* yeah whatever.

•You enjoy this peaceful moment with Guzma as the boat pulls into Ula'Ula docks.

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•A few days have passed since you got Comfey and she's been a sweetheart to the team. Getting to train and battle with her has been nothing but amazing yet, like always, it still wasn't enough to defeat Guzma. You've pretty much brushed the idea of ever getting to beat him, instead focusing on ever loss as an opportunity to grow and learn.

•On this particular day most of the local tourists were gone leaving many of the city life for the locals. You took the opportunity to have a small psudo-date with Guzma to get food and tapu coacoa, luckily at a different spot this time.

•Loking up from your cell, you noticed Guzma was towering over you.

•(Y/N): Oh hey! I didn't even hear you come in! How are you?

•Guzma: *shrugging and grinning* Eh not terrible. That comfey of yours any stronger yet or are you ready to accept defeat?

•(Y/N): *scoffing* Hey well you're not entirely wrong. I don't think I stand a chance unless I have as many Pokemon as you do . . but eh that's definitely not gonna happen.

•Guzma: And what makes you so sure? I'm sure there's gotta be another Pokemon that fits your vibe . . not that I'm rushing you or anything. I mean if I get to keep beating you down like this I'm fine with your team staying the way it is.

•(Y/N): haha yeah well still. I wouldn't mind another member it's just that I definitely checked this time. Went down to the library the other day and borrowed some trainers dex and yeah it confirmed that, unless I trade with someone who has it, there is no way I am getting a full team with the Pokemon that live on these islands.

•Guzma: Well if you need someone who can get you a Pokemon you're talkin' to the right guy. *he smirks* What Pokemon you need sweetcheeks? *he asks leaning towards you*

•Blushing softly you begin to rub the back of your neck: (Y/N): Oh it mmm. .it really doesn't matter. . trust me it's pretty much impossible.

•Guzma: hmm still no need to be keepin' secrets. Just spill it already.

•(Y/N): *sighing* it's a vivillon. .

•You can sense Guzma is happy at the sound of you mentioning the bug.

•(Y/N): Well don't get all happy! *blushing* like I said... can't get em here and no scatterbugs either. *you grumble* you of all people should now that Mr. King of the bugs!

•Guzma laughs at your tone and words but he doesn't seem shaken up by the idea of not being able to find a vivillon.

•Guzma: Haha . . well if it's a Vivillon you want that shouldn't be any problem. *He says that last part to himself*

•You know the look on his face means he is thinking about causing trouble.

•(Y/N): H. . hey!! Don't go getting any wackjob ideas in your head!! I am NOT asking you to steal one for me.

•Guzma: whoa whoa whoa easy on the accusations! *smirking* I ain't thinking like that . . . anymore .

•You try to stay mad at him.

•Guzma: *snickers* . . tsk . trust me (Y/N) I have other methods. .

•You roll your eyes. Knowing Guzma that could mean anything: (Y/N): hmpf. . well *you cross your shoulders* I am not asking you to do anything for me. . I believe I am content with what I have just fine. . now finish your food so we can do something else.

•Guzma: Hmm sure . . whatever you say doll. *Guzma has a feint blush on his face*

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•It's been a week since your last outing with Guzma. Walking along the wooden walkways of Ula'Ula Meadows you were supposed to meet with him as he "wanted to show you something hella dope" apparently.

•With Sylveon walking in tandem with their ribbons wrapped around you arm she was keeping an eye out for the Bug Boss as the two of you scanned the sea of red flowers.

•During your walk, the gentle Alolan breeze blew past and the sounds of ruffling leaves filled your ears. In the moment you began thinking back on all your moments with Guzma and how despite his gang affiliation and what everyone thinks of him you know that he is a great guy deep down. He has been nothing but supportive and accepting of your style and personality that your heart started pounding in your chest the more you thought about him. He had this sort of gruff charm to him that only he could pull off and you are thankful that he was so willing to let you be a part of his busy and reckless life. You know he isn't one to open up to others besides the grunts and his admin and friend Plumeria.

•Before your mind trailed off too far your sylveon pulled you towards the direction she saw Guzma.

•Heading a bit south towards a more secluded part of the meadow you saw Guzma slouching on the ground talking to his ariados. As he pet him the look on Guzma's face was that of nervousness that you've never seen on him before.

•Your sylveon happily called out to Guzma as it ran towards his direction. You jogged behind her, stopping just a few feet away from Guzma as he stood up and began dusting off his sweats.

•Guzma: Oh . he hey? *coughing* what's good yo?

•(Y/N): *a bit suspicious* Gooood? What's good on your end?

•Guzma: ha he uh nothing. . *coughing* nothing . . just same shit as usual. *he starts rubbing the back of his head as his usual confidence is disappearing each second that passes*

•(Y/N): *giggles* uh oh okayyy? . . *You walk a bit closer to him* you good? You seem a bit .    off.

•Guzma: *trying to stay casual* tsk yeah that's what I just said right?!  . Your boi is good. . and shit. yeah .

•Your eyes noticed that he was fighting with something in his pocket as you stood in silence observing his every move. It was starting to freak him out a bit as he turned his back towards you not before tossing you whatever he had in his pocket.

•It was a pokeball. An all white Pokeball with a gold band around it with the feint initials "A.F" carved into it.

•Guzma spoke up in defense before you had the chance to chew him out.

•Guzma: *his cheecks start to turn red* Listen . .I . I didn't take it from no trainer or anything.

•(Y/N): *softly* Guzma . .

•Guzma wasn't expecting to feel your arm tug on his sleeve. He had nowhere to turn to try and hide his flustered face as your (colored) eyes staired back into his.

•Guzma: *trying to cover his face with the back of his hand* Don't give me that look??! What .  w mmm you said it yourself *he crosses his shoulders* what your like birthday is soon or somethin' . . got you an early gift is all.

•(Y/N): *You're blushing too as you shake your head at Guzma's blushing form* hehe yeah sure . if you think two months away is pretty soon.

•You gaze at the ball in your hand. Well whoever gave Guzma this Pokemon must have been from a different region as you had never seen a pokeball like this before. You only hoped they weren't going to miss whatever Pokemon was inside it if they were willing to carve their initials into this ball.

•Guzma: *a bit frustrated* argh you know that thing won't pop out on its own!

•(Y/N): *giggles* Alright! Alright! Arceus! Pushy as always.

•Releasing the Pokemon you gasped in away at what flew in front of you. Your heartbeat fast as you gripped onto Guzma's arm to keep yourself from stumbling.

•Before your very eyes was a beautiful light blue Vivillon. The bug type danced around you a bit too eagerly for a pokemon that is meeting it's new trainer for the first time.

•Drawing your hand out the Vivillon did not hesitate to launch itself at you in a welcoming embrace.

•Guzma: Sorry. .  it's not the right color.

•(Y/N): huh?

•Guzma: You clearly wanted the pink one. . . but blue was the best I could get.

•Holding onto Guzmas hand you begin rubbing it gently.

•(Y/N): Thank you . . thank you so much for . . everything.

•Guzma: Whoa whoa whoa?! Hold on whats with the . . everything talk . everything? I ain't done shit to earn that .  *He's covering his blush with the back of his hand* the fuck are you on about?

•(Y/N): well uh . .you know . you've done a whole lot for me just by being close to me . . for not judging my appearance . . and for sticking by my side when my appearance causes unwanted attention. . and for trying to understand me and support me. You know better than anyone what it's like to be judged and hated on by people who don't try to get to know the person they're judging. And I say all that because it does mean something to me. . it is my everything.

•Guzma: *his whole face is red* .  ye yeah .   likewise . . *Not one for words he opts to pull you into a tight embrace.* s . still he's blue . . *Guzma grumbles out that last part*

•Hugging him tighter you can't help but giggle into his chest.

•(Y/N): No. He's perfect.

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*Click click click*

•The sound of your mary janes hitting the pavement as you walked without a care in the world to who was starting at your appearance.

•You were happy today because today you were going on another date with Guzma.

•Approaching Guzma he couldn't help bit stare in awe at your choice of outfit.

•Guzma: Yo (Y/N). .h hey now! That's a new color on you. *Walking up to you* It's nice. *he says with his signature grin*

•(Y/N): Thank you! I've been meaning to wear this one for a while . . just didn't have the right "accessories" to wear it with . but I guess I should thank you for that. *saying all that your vivillon happily flitters by your side as you go to pet the top of his head*

•You are wearing a plain baby blue dress with a white accented corset, white mary janes, blue ruffled and sparkling stockings, and a blue bow atop your head.

•(Y/N): *Reaching out to wrap you arm around Guzmas* So . you ready?

•Guzma: *Ruffling the back of his head* sure I am dollface.

•Walking down the busy street the two of you brace for your next lovely adventure.

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[tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol]

How would the bots and cons handwriting be like? (Sorry for my bad English lol)

Ahhh! I love this idea! Had WAY too much fun with this.

Bots and Cons Handwriting

Optimus:

-Can write insanely neatly, and in literally ANY font

-Everything he writes looks like it came straight from Google Docs

-He can perfectly recreate Comic Sans, much to the children's amusement

-Handwriting KING

-He's too powerful

Arcee:

-Her handwriting is gorgeous

-She writes very neatly, definitely in cursive

-Everything she writes looks like a diary from the Victorian era

-Majestic✨✨✨✨

Ratchet:

-Cursive, but MESSY cursive

-Like, REALLY messy cursive. What is he even writing? Who knows? It's a mystery.

-You know, cuz, like, that's how a pharmacist's prescriptions look, and he's a medic. Lol

-Ratchet has messy pharmacist handwriting

Bumblebee:

-His handwriting is so cute😭

-Basically Comic Sans

-Not PERFECT Comic Sans like Optimus, but just bubbly and adorable

-Having legible handwriting is something he practices a lot, since his voice box is broken. Writing is a nice way to express himself if need be.

-He has kindergarten teacher handwriting

-My dyslexia would be so happy

Smokescreen:

-Neat enough handwriting, but HE WRITES SO BIG

-All caps, all the time

-He goes through too many notebooks, because he saves NO space

-Poor guy. He just has a big personality

Bulkhead:

-Unreadable

-His hands are just way too big

-Very messy. Only Wheeljack can read it because he and Bulkhead share the same braincells

-Bulkhead and Ratchet get in arguments, because Ratchet's reads Bulk's handwriting, and is like: "Bulkhead, your attempts at penmanship are downright INCOMPREHENSIBLE."

And Bulkhead's like: "You say that like any of us can read yours!"

And Arcee's like: "I second that."

And Bumblebee buzzes in agreement.

Ratchet just rolls his eyes, like "ugh." Because he can't argue. HIS handwriting is gibberish, too.

Ultra Magnus:

-Opposite of Smokescreen...Ultra Magnus's handwriting is TINY!

-Seriously, where is it? You need a microscope.

-Only the humans can read it, because it's so small. And even THEY have to squint

-It's also PERFECT. His handwriting is very neat

and blocky, like a typewriter

-If only we could actually see it

Wheeljack:

-He's like, a graphic design CHAMPION

-He learned handwriting from Miko, so he loves big bubble letters. He decorates them with cool patterns, like flames, and lightning bolts

-Very stylish

Megatron:

-What I can only describe as "spooky cursive"

-Very formal, and kinda gothic

-He'd use some kind of calligraphy pen with very dark, splattery ink, or, like, whatever the Cybertronian version of a quill is.

-He's an elegant guy...well, sort of, except most of what he writes consists of:

"My dearest Starscream,

It is with great regret (note my sarcasm, Starscream.) It is with great PLEASURE that I must inform you...

I have caught you invading my stash of dark energon, once again.

I will be grinding you into scrap metal momentarily.

Yours truly,

Lord Megatron."

Starscream:

-Starscream has the ABILITY to write neatly, and in cursive

-But he writes very scribbly, because he's angry

-If "ranting" was a font, it's the font he writes in

-Also, he probably keeps a rage journal, where he trash talks everyone he knows

-Somebody help him🥲

Soundwave:

-Handwriting? What's that?

-He probably uses his internal computer to make documents, and prints them

-And when he prints things, they probably slide out of his neck. Terrifying. So he prints things to freak Starscream out

-It's beautiful

-If Soundwave was FORCED to handwrite, he'd do it in computer code, or morse code, or something weird like that. Everyone would be baffled trying to understand it.

Airachnid:

-Very splattery

-But that's what happens when you use energon and human blood as ink.

Shockwave:

-Writes in calculator font

-Like, the font a calculator has

-He says it's "the most logical font"

-Starscream constantly judges him for it

Breakdown:

-Definitely not neat, but not Bulkhead levels of messy, either

-He doesn't have the best handwriting, but he can make some pretty good doodles

-If, for some reason, Megatron assigned Breakdown and Knockout a task involving handwriting, Breakdown and Knockout would both doodle instead of being productive

Knockout:

-Ooo! So majestic!

-It's very bold

-His handwriting is suave and announcer-y, just like him

-It'd also be curved slightly to the right, like italics

-Almost like something you'd see in a commercial, or a movie trailer, or a billboard

-Like a NASCAR advertisement (y'know, because race car)

[confessionsofkotlc]

To the person who asked why Keefe is complex, I thought I’d try to give my two cents on the matter.

Also it’s totally fine if you dislike Keefe! He’s just complex, is all. You can dislike him anyway, this is soley about why I think he is a complex character. Not an attempt to sway you to like him or anything!

He’s introduced pretty early as though he’s going to be a silly, funny, flirty side character, and a lot of that falls away as the series goes on. He’s always had avoidant defense mechanisms, which used to look like deflecting with humor and as his trauma worsens turns into a lot of literal running away. We learn in book one that he has really bad parents and it’s like oh, okay, so he has a hard childhood and covers for it with humor. Pretty classic way to round a character out, but it works. Sure. But he wasn’t too complex THEN.

I think the way finding out his mother was with the neverseen impacted him was far worse than the fandom gives it credit for. It was a huge turning point in his life. He breaks down more. He can’t keep up his defenses as much.

Did you hear that? He can’t keep up his defenses as much. Deflecting isn’t working.

And then, at the end of Neverseen, he literally runs away.

Direct correlation.

He goes to be a “double agent” and hopefully be able to help his friends from the inside. But really… he wants to do something useful without having to face his friends. He’s avoiding. He’s running.

The reveal of his mother being with the neverseen was also more than figuring out his parent was a villain, which is bad enough. He also learned that the parent who had always been slightly better, slightly kinder, slightly more caring was actually the evil one. It isn’t talked about nearly enough the amount of trust issues he must have gotten from that. It also adds an extra layer to every time he’s betrayed a friend’s trust or told a lie. He doesn’t think it’s right, but a part of him is still processing what happened with his mother.

He searches through his memories like crazy. He wondered how he, an empath, managed to miss that his mother was evil. He questions everything the knows. How does he know if someone is lying? He doesn’t. He doesn’t know if someone is lying. He lies. He lies and lies and lies.

He holds on to every scrap of paper with every detail he’s ever remembered about his childhood and his mother and questions everything. This is actually a huge part of what makes his character complex, since that’s the question—the way he clings to every. Single. Detail. Because he’s NOT just avoidant, he’s also unable to let go, and somehow he is absolutely both at the same time.

Constantly running from the painful things he clutches close to his chest.

That sentence alone might actually explain what makes him complex, but I’m going to go further.

I think his execution of research and ideas and reckless plans without telling his friends, betraying them and lying to them, is both a product of the fact that he’s never considered himself someone who gets listened to seriously and the fact that he’s still processing his mother’s betrayal. (Let’s not gloss over that. He’s still grieving from that.)

“Are you afraid of me, Foster?” It isn’t a question. It’s a realization. In this moment he realizes what he’s really done. He has flashbacks to the mountain, to finding out about his mother, and he wonders if too much of her is in his blood. Of course he rushes to explain his double agent scheme, but he’s in pretty deep and this isn’t going to be his last betrayal. The scene where he steals the alluveterre crystal and Alvar might be his worst betrayal. But there’s so much behind it.

So many complexities.

So many underlying thoughts, some of which I don’t think he’s even aware of.

He’s trying and he knows he’s wrong but he does it anyway and focuses on everything right about the wrong.

Being literally, physically changed by his mother so that he has new abilities that could actually hurt people is another huge turning point. Now it isn’t, “are you afraid of me, Foster?” It’s “you should be afraid of me, Foster.” All pretense of laughter and humor and jokes is gone. The Leo Valdez side has evaporated.

If he was worried that too much of his mother was in his blood before, well, he’s definitely worried about it now. Because she changed him and he hates it and he’s afraid of himself.

He’s afraid of himself and he’s afraid for his friends (because even amongst all of this he cares, he loves his friends and he specifically loves Sophie) and his deflection is once again entirely gone and he does the thing we should have all seen coming.

He runs away.

But I think unraveled will show us that once again, even in running away, he can’t let go of the things he wants to leave behind. They stick to him and he takes them everywhere he goes.

In unlocked he writes in his journal that Sophie deserves someone like Fitz. He hates himself for having betrayed her and having made her lose faith in the good of the world. He loves her enough that even when he wants her to be with him, when he believes she’ll be happier with his friend, he wants that for her.

(He can hardly believe it when Sophie chooses him. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he says. “Please don’t let me mess this up.” He knows he’s a mess. He’s worried he’s too much of a mess to preserve the one thing he’s always wanted.)

And even in the end of Stellarlune, he takes the knife from Sophie to attack his mother, without telling her. In that moment I wonder if he was even thinking about his own stupid bad patterns, or if he was so determined to end things with his mother that he didn’t even consider that in some small way, he was sort of doing just the sort of thing he swore to himself he’d stop doing.

So what makes Keefe a complex character?

The way he cares so impossibly deeply for his friends while also doing things he knows will hurt them and feeling in his mind like maybe he can’t even stop it, maybe he’s just a mess that can’t be fixed and the best thing he can do for his friends is never see them again—

The way he runs, avoids, escapes, NEVER confronts his issues, but also is never able to leave them behind, dragging them with him wherever he runs, every single detail running through his head—

The way he’ll never say it out loud, but some part of him is worried he’s too much like his mother, wishing she’d get her hands off his life and stop changing him before he can’t deny it anymore—

The way his bad habits mirror each other even as he changes and develops as a character—

It’s not just his trauma and his coping mechanisms, or his feelings for Sophie and his friends. It’s the layers upon layers in his character, thick as shadowflux and so buried that even Keefe doesn’t know about some of them. (Even I can’t articulate them all. I’m able to really get into a state of feeling his character but these are the only things I’m able to get into words.)

This is about as much of his complexities as I can explain using actual words in the English language and not just transferring emotions. To the anon who was wondering how he’s complex, I hope this helps!

[charmac]

curious - do you think rcg may have had any notion that they may seriously explore the possibility of mac being gay in s6 era? s5 functionally lays the majority of groundwork for the subtext that they evolved into canonical text and s6 opens with mac fights gay marriage and imo mac is pretty heavily gay coded throughout that season. however, s7 totally makes me believe they hadn’t really considered it, because mac’s gay subtext is almost completely nonexistent, bar the flashback from s6 in 7x10. he is overtly “straight” that season. clearly by s8 it’s fully canon and one of the most logical next steps they could’ve taken with his character in retrospect, but i have always wondered if many of the choices in s6 wrt mac’s sexuality becoming increasingly more ambiguous were deliberate and i’m curious about your perspective.

I do 100%! I've definitely spoken about this before... I'm not sure if it was here or a Discord or maybe even an in-person conversation, but I've always thought it was so insane how they tell you Mac and Dennis Break Up is romantic in some sense. They are realising that their codependency is more than some "bromance" and it spooks them (obviously, really more-so Dennis).

I think acknowledging it on TASP isn't a surprise, but the fact that it's stated in the DVD commentary, before they even filmed S6, makes it clear that this was intentional foundation they intended to work off of. When Dee shatters the glass closet by stating Dennis' codependency with Mac is viewed as an "old married couple" situation, it fucks Dennis up way more than Mac, because Mac is unable to recognise the queerness of their relationship while Dennis can.

Once they make up, they've established something in the writers room going forward for Mac & Dennis that they clearly want to keep a part of their dynamic (again, as reaffirmed on the MADBU TASP episode): they are gay for each other. But they're not going to (mutually) recognise or accept it, because that ruins the joke.

So, in my opinion, they go into Season 6 really digging into that dynamic and playing on the joke by pushing against it: Dennis recognises the issue of being into Mac internally so he needs a wife; Mac recognises the issue of being gay externally so he needs to fight the gays. No doubt in my mind that throughout S6 they were writing and acting with this idea - though probably with no firm idea of where they wanted it to end up.

So we get to Season 7, and your point is the reason why Season 7 is one of my least favourite Seasons as a coherent part of Sunny (keeping in mind the flashbacks in How Mac Got Fat are just a scrapped S6 episode, reworked) - it seems to ignore a lot of the build up in order to make funny stand-alone episodes of the show. Was it because of Fat Mac? (Only one identity at a time for Mac, pls!) Is it because they had a chunk of guest writers? Is it because they thought there was a large chance it was the final season of the show? (They've talked about how when they shot the final scene for S7 (HS Reunion) it was under the idea that they might not get renewed)

Probably only RCG truly know (and maybe they don't even remember). As for me, while I don't think it was necessarily deliberate, like they sat down and said "actually lets roll back the gay [Mac] stuff here..." my idea is that going into S7 they hadn't yet figured out (or couldn't agree) if/how they wanted to make Mac's homosexuality crystal clear.

Maybe they dropped it for a season before deciding... or maybe this downtime served a purpose, because the reveals on Sunny serve one main goal: Subvert expectations.

Going from S5/6 to 8 is very obvious. That is a closeted gay guy. BUT when you have S7 cut in there in the middle, this working-season where they kind of play hard into Mac's aggressive temper and his stupidity and the fact that he's a voyeur, it's a little less-so. You're hit with Season 8 and that attempted kiss kind of comes out of nowhere and then every episode following has some kind of Mac is GAY moment and it's just extremely funny... Like, oh holy shit he's gay and he can't even recognise it.

But that gap does kinda throw you off like, was this a decision once they got renewed going forward that they needed one of them to be obviously gay based on their history? I really don’t think so, the foundation seems too intentional and the evidence we have that RCG acknowledged the character’s queerness (of all them) back then is enough to have me firmly believe the S6 stuff was just further groundwork for Mac’s character and his and Dennis’ opposing relationship

[wazzappp]

ALRIGHT WE BALL. Time to get on with the story (i have a story planned thats. a real shocker. im ass at writing but ill get this drawn damnit I promise)

This argument is one that just needed to happen. Robbie cant think of the infected he's been killing as people because that would mean he has killed a truly UNCOUNTABLE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE. Lisa has done what she has to in order to survive, and that includes killing the un-infected (which, of course, to Robbie is totally unacceptable). So when he's trying to explain the difference it just comes across JUDGY AS HELL. They're both proud and defensive and bad communicators and the conversation goes BADLY.

This happens while they're on their way to the Beneviento house. Lisa basically goes 'Alright if youre so high and mighty go ahead and beat this one yourself then!' and fucks off back to Duke with the intention to kill as many Lycans in the way as physically possible. Robbie goes ahead to the SPOOKY NIGHTMARE HOUSE trust me I have plans for what he sees in there and its appropriately disturbing but it also spoils the ending I have planned for this whole thing so :) hang in there.

BUT he ends up having a BAD TIME when he's trying to head back and what @rokhal suggested slotted in SO VERY NICE HERE (i feel i have sufficiently LOST MY MIND over the fic you posted i am JKSL:FJSDFDS F UCk)

'Picturing Robbie alone in the Village foraging for gunpowder and cash (because it's a Video Game and they can't just hang out in Donna Benaviento's house throwing the creepy dolls in the river while waiting for rescue after reconnecting the phone lines, no, they have to wander around the entire map) and he's saving the herbs for Gabe and using all the chem fluid for sniper rifle ammo or whatever. And he's fighting off werewolves and it's fine because apparently his health regenerates like mana because he's made of mold.

But as he's wandering around it starts to get harder and harder to remember how much cash and scrap he needs. And he keeps missing shots. And then he gets a little turned around but now he's lost and there's more fkn werewolves, and he's seriously low on ammo and he just wants to get back to Gabe, but he needs to regroup and his hands are numb so he tries to warm them at one of the villager's stoves.

And then he discovers that he's slowly turning into a mindless mold creature, and realizes that the only way to keep Gabe safe from him is to get really really really lost, so lost he'll never find his way back before something kills and eats him.

This does not work, but it does ensure that he is incoherent and barely recognizable by the time Gabe and Lisa track him down.'

Which is all MWAH. CHEFS KISS.

Anyway Robbie is gone for a WHILE and Lisa realizes that the puzzles she needs to solve to move the fuck on require 2 people so she's stuck killing any lycans that stray too close to Dukes camp and hanging out with Gabe. UNTIL, of course, Gabe decides yeah no fuck this fuck that Robbie has been away for WAY to long and I'm going after him. Only problem is that Gabe's abilities are kinda rooted too wherever his sclerotia pods (is adding pods to that redundant? whatever we ball) have had enough time to take root and grow. Meaning, despite her anger towards Robbie at the moment, if Lisa doesen't want Gabe caught, dragged to Mother Miranda and dismembered, she's gotta go with him (also featuring @moosemonstrous hilarious idea of her being proud of Gabe's attempted intimidation).

When they DO track him down he's barely awake. He keeps wandering in one direction then looks like he wants to turn around and go another but he keeps FORCING HIMSELF to go the other way (generally I think he would be a decent bit stronger, but fighting his instincts this hard make him seem more aimless. Robbie is borderline unstoppable when trying to get to his brother, but right now he's NOT trying to get to his brother. you feel me?). Lisa goes up first to make sure he's not going to lose his shit or something. He basically falls onto her with the single saddest "m'sorry" ever heard on planet Earth. If it's for FALLING on her or if its for the CONVERSATION earlier, Lisa isn't quite sure. But it's been years since anyone has apologized to her for anything and thats enough for her to decide she should at least sling him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes back to Dukes camp.

They make it back to the Dukes camp and give Robbie a couple of med kits (GOOP JUICE!!!!!) and he's a little more coherent. He's still trying to stay away from Gabe even though everything in him is saying 'STAY CLOSE' but he's got SOME brain space available because at least he's in line of sight now. Scrambled brain time is not the BEST for trying at an apology but hey, Robbie isn't really known for his great ideas and he tries anyway.

(ft me being unwell about shoving them together)

They're on better terms after this. The communication is still weird but hey its them so everything is weird. Plus they get some extra bonding time because I also snatched rokhals OTHER suggestion of

'....Been thinking maybe The Duke has a recipe that would heal Robbie...requiring meat from a golden dancing fish and the breast of the blue bird that haunts the graveyard and the tenderloin of the magnificent boar that sires all the swine in the Village...or something. So Gabe and Lisa have to go hunting while keeping Robbie calm...'

Ah yes. the high end flesh of the Great Village Fuck Boar. Delightful.

Cause I mean he's BETTER but still not GREAT. I think now that he's with Gabe he would be unable to leave him again while like this. Gabe would HAVE to go with them (we can get >:] 'Robbie goes into an overprotective frenzy and sword hands himself to hack some poor lycan that got too close in half' its a good time [its not. sword hand is very disturbing to him])

So anyway what Im TRYING to say is that the brainworms will continue

[lefaystrent]

Plot Bunnies

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: None

Warnings: Imaginary animal death

Summary: There's too many of them.

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

Roman lunged out of his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him. His arms stretched wide across it, forming a human barrier. His eyes darted wildly from side to side, chest heaving, clothes in disarray.

Logan paused in his jaunt through the hallway. "What are you-"

Something slammed against the door from the other side. Then again, the force of it jarring Roman as he desperately held the line.

"It's the plot bunnies!" Roman yelled. "There's too many of them! I can't hold them back!"

"Plot bunnies? What sort of rabbit is a plot?" Logan asked.

Appearing beside him eating a sandwich, Virgil answered, "It's slang, L. It means Sir Doofus here has too many story ideas in the old noggin'."

"Excuse me! I am not old!"

"Seriously? That's what you got out of that?"

Logan ignored their bickering. "Ah, I see. Your creative inspirations have exceeded your ability to efficiently process. Therefore, they have manifested in corporeal form."

Another slam came from behind the door and Roman's body jostled with it. He winced. "It's not my fault I'm so amazing!"

"Thomas has been rather motivated as of late," Logan agreed by not agreeing at all. He pulled out a notebook and pen. "Do you think they would allow me to ask questions?"

Virgil looked bug-eyed over Logan's body, both front and back. "Where did you pull those from?"

"If you want to go in there, be my guest!" Roman said. "The pen is mightier than the sword, after all."

"Quite. Well, if I may then?"

Roman and Logan stood by the door, waited long enough in between the impacts, and then Roman quickly yanked the door open enough for the other to slip in. Immediately after, Roman slammed the door shut.

"So... bunnies can't kill people, right?" Virgil asked conversationally.

"I don't hear screaming. Also we can't die, Virgil. You know this."

"It doesn't stop the fear."

"Logan took a shurikan to the head and lived. If any of us can survive killer rabbits, it's Isaac Nerdton."

"Do the rabbits have weapons or would they just gnaw you to death?"

"Virgil, you're spiraling."

"Right, sorry."

It was about this time that Logan barreled back through in a flurry of paper scraps. His clothes hung in tatters. Roman barred the door again and demanded, "Good God man, what happened in there?"

"They've formed a union," Logan said weakly.

Virgil ran a hand down his face and blew out a gust of breath. "Yeah, I'm gonna go get Remus for this one."

Even Roman couldn't argue. Sometimes violence was the answer.

Logan stood there frozen, watching Virgil walk away.

"You okay there, Specs?" Roman asked in concern. Logan didn't often go quiet.

"No. I most decidedly am not."

"Good, just as long as we're on the same page."

They stood in silence. Or rather, they stopped talking and listened to the bangs of dozens of rabbits throwing their ravenous bodies against the door.

They heard him before they saw him.

"HEEEEEEREEEEEE'S JHOOOONNYYYYY!"

Remus sonic-ran down the hallway wielding a battle axe. His eyes were alight with murder and his lips stretched back in a too-wide grin.

As if they had planned it together, Roman opened the door at the exact moment Remus needed to sprint into the room without slowing down. Then he slammed it closed once more.

Virgil walked back at a more sedate pace. He joined the others as they stood outside the door and listened to the sounds of manical cackling paired with rabbit squeals and ominous squelching.

"We never speak of this to Patton," Virgil said.

"Agreed," they both replied.

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 3: sketch 1

ed note from the future: this got long. its going mostly under a readmore for everyone's sake. and i didnt even finish sketching, just trying to explain what is going through my mind while trying to sketch. look, if i write down my process in exhausting detail people will realize im completely insane. this is a net benefit to anyone trying to interact with me in the future who thinks i can be reasoned with. community service. thank you for allowing me to post this shit lol

hmmm. giving up on the first few panels for right now. here's what i'm thinking about as i sketch this:

too many of my panels were talking heads or constantly relied on one point perspective. i have been trying to work against this for a while with mixed results. sometimes the result is so bad i have to scrap what i did and start over but sometimes it's "good enough for TV"* and i hit publish on it. no risks, no reward after all. can't get better if you don't try.

in this first panel, i have two people having a back and forth conversation through a weird magic hole in the floor/wall. maxine is laying on a couch with hole right above her head. homestar runner will demonstrate what i mean:

however, there are logistical problems with maxine that homestar runner doesnt have. maxine's right shoulder is dislocated, so she can't lay on that side, or any side that would put pressure on the joint. im realizing i don't actually know what position would be most comfortable in her situation or how she would instinctually arrange her body to avoid pain. i start looking up videos from physical therapists on how they recommend patients sleep for some ideas.

also i start looking up what women look like sleeping on couches. how does the human body fold up. because this isn't it.

anyway, this was my first effort with the first panels.

for reference, the last page ends like this:

the top left of the sketch would have been the hopi clown back on the shelf with the "camera" tilting above it to reveal maxine. while this keeps the relevant object from the previous page in frame as a piece of connective tissue between updates....i'm struggling to fit the second character in. the one talking from the hole. maybe there's still hope for this? it's not terrible. initially i nuked it but maybe i can make this work.

fuck! she needs a pillow or two to make this work. this video is right, that DOES look naturally comfortable compared to the standard fetal position that would pull the affected shoulder inward. i didn't draw any pillows into the stupid establishing shot of the office bc its not the kind of couch you are expected to sleep on!!! this is a man's business office!!! i thought i was so smart!!

basically every couch comes with decorative pillows though, and the shot of the room didn't include the wall the "camera" was up against. my 2-point perspective failure might have paid off here lol. if i can establish that the second character is talking through the hole, he can use his rayman hands to reach across the room and get the pillow for her. it can be part of his personal campaign to show maxine he means her no immediate harm. the pillows were just out of frame. lurking. ok let's try it again. uhhhh after i eat some lunch

---

*my friend kelly had an anecdote from working in animation that im going to retell badly from memory. her boss would take the work she labored over to meet by deadline and would laugh at it, saying "ah, its terrible! but good enough for TV". and while extremely mean, he had a salient point: it never has to be perfect. it just needs to be good enough to be seen. sometimes i seriously think about this anecdote when im dissatisfied with my own art. it's bad. but it's good enough for tv.

[lake-archive]

Chapter 29 - You are...

AO3 Link

Characters: Chuuya Nakaharai, Annette 'Ann' Dorste-Hülshoff (OC), Osamu Dazai

Words: 1,034

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“Sorry for the holdup. Chuuya is so small, I didn't see him when he blocked the way~”

“Oh, a chihuahua? Must be related to Chuuya~”

“Hey Ann–Chan! How do I look? Like a dog? Good! I’ll go mess with Chuuya now~”

A name Dazai has frequently mentioned – Chuuya Nakahara. Over and over, it was a name which had been burned into Ann’s mind. They would never mistake it for any other name by now. They could even hear it in their own head. ‘ Chuuya ’. Chuuya. Chuuya… Yeah, Chuuya. 

And yet, as many times as he had mentioned that Chuuya guy Ann could not imagine anything. Apparently he was ‘short’ or something. And Dazai seemed to enjoy messing with him, fucking around for the heck of it. But the better question was who Dazai did not want to fuck around with? He did so to pretty much everyone. So that narrows it down by not much if at all. Usually they could care less yet Dazai mentioned this Chuuya person a lot. Ann just couldn’t help themself but grew more curious as time went on. Maybe they would decide to sneak along once or twice, just to see if they bump into this ‘Chuuya Nakahara’. 

Honestly, they had tried asking about him before yet got no clear answer. In fact, the first few times Dazai made some type of grimace, as if this was someone he would rather not address like that. And eventually it led to bizarre answers. 

“He’s a tiny guy.”

“I know that. Anything else?”

“Hmm… He’s so tiny that he cannot store all of his anger!”

“Would you answer me seriously!?”

“Oh, but I’m being very serious right now~”

“No you– Hah, nevermind I asked.”

Yeah, they knew nothing else of Nakahara. Who knows, they may as well have walked past him before knowing it! So they could have missed the chance to meet him! Oh little did they know at the time. And it took a random run in to come to this realization… 

It was not much of a special day, just the usual really. Ann had been on their way home, their shift at the café having come to an end. It was just the usual mundane walk home, nothing else to do but to kick back and get the creative juices flo— 

“The hell are you looking like that for!? I said watch your step next time you walking waste of bandages!” A voice yelled from the top of its lungs, not considering any potential passerby. It just didn’t seem to care, only wanting to let out its fury right then and there. But what could be the reason for such a reaction? Well… When another familiar voice hit their ears they could only imagine… 

“Sorry pipsqueak, I can’t hear you down there~” And that voice answered all of their potential questions… Yeah, it was Dazai. And he had done something again, didn’t he? Best would be to do a quick turn around and use another route to walk home. Yeah, that was probably the best idea. They would rather not get involved with Dazai’s shenanigans right now. They had enough of that in their shared space. 

However, when registering the other voice they couldn’t help but take another look. Especially when that one screamed: “Don’t you bullshit me blockhead!”

“Oh? Did you say something Chuuya? Hmm… Nope, still can’t hear you.” 

“Why you…”

Wait, Chuuya? Did they hear it correctly? They suddenly just couldn’t help themself Scrap the plan of avoiding Dazai, this had suddenly gotten a little interesting. Though maybe it would have been for the best if they didn’t pass by. After all, the shock which had come shortly after was something they just couldn’t bear. It was still in their own memory and they could relive it at any given point. That was how much of an unexpected surprise it was.

Just when they had started opening their mouth while walking by, being able to use the excuse of heading home. “Dazai, would you stop bothering o—” They had started yet stopped midway through when coming face to face with this ‘Chuuya’ person. 

The two men had taken note of them, no questions asked, and they turned their heads over to them in one swoop. The usual Dazai grin had ‘graced’ his face, so annoyingly carefree. He even waved over to them. “Oh, hello Ann–Chan~ What a surprise! Gimme a moment, I have a very small matter to attend to, as you can see.”

They then shifted their gaze to the other person however, that face fami— And they froze in place, them staring in disbelief at the guy. And it wasn’t as if he wasn’t staring back at them either. In fact he seemed to just be as taken aback, staring back at them with his own pair of gray eyes. And the two proceeded to stare at one another for quite a moment, not losing a single word. The two even managed to ignore Dazai despite his voice echoing in their ears, probably.

“Hm? Something up? You both look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Ann heard him point out. Was it that obvious? Did the two look that shocked? Maybe they did. That didn’t really change anything however, not really at least. The two were just busy looking at another and observing the other very closely, gazes going up and down, scanning the other. If they were animals they may as well have started sniffing each other right then and there, just to make extra sure. ‘Do I know you?’ They asked with their eyes yet it was obvious… The two did know another. And right now they were just staring. Staring and staring and more staring. Until… 

“You are… Nakahara Chuuya?” They asked, still in disbelief.

“Y… Yeah… And you’re… Ann, right?” They got as a response.

Then silence kicked in, nothing but literal silence. None dared to say a word… It had to be the third wheel who spoke up, yelling in some type of shock himself all of a sudden, though still a little over dramatic sounding…

“Wait, you two know each other!?”

Oh what a day…

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[sliceoflifeshepard]

Thinking about how far I've come over the past 9 years of writing as a commitment.

Long post.

My dad died October 24th 2014 from cancer, and my mum around December time told me to start writing again, to do what I love but take it seriously because I was old enough (luckily my dad died like 2 months after I finished college so I didn't have to worry about college)

I went to the library on the 1st March 2015 and started planning and writing the original plans for Terraclaw. That year was me trying to find where I stood with writing, and I enjoyed every second of it.

Terraclaw went through a lot - in total, I have about 3 or 4 notebooks full to the brim with rewrites, outlines and the lot. All of that scrapped, but I'm keeping it for the memories.

In 2018 I had a health problem and ended up in hospital. The end of October to end of 2019 was spent recovering and teaching myself how to write again because I was that ill I'd forgotten how to, and a few other things too. I picked Terraclaw back up again, my baby. I was home.

Terraclaw at this point had gone through at least 6 or 7 rewrites, and more were to follow. I got rid of most of the rewrites out of shame of not being good enough. Because it wasn't perfect like I'd hoped it would be

2020 was when my life exploded. I found my niche in Angels,Demons, Gods and Reaper supernatural fantasy fiction and I haven't looked back since. The ideas haven't stopped coming, I have so many ideas and I've gone back to Handwriting because I love the wips I do and Handwriting is easier for me.

Today it isn't just Terraclaw's anniversary, but my anniversary of taking Writing seriously. I wouldn't change this for the world. I love my job (yes i consider writing my fulltime job, even though twchnically im unemployed and cant work for disability reasons. You get the picture), I love my life and who I am. Writing is a part of me, you can't take it away from me because then I wouldn't be me.

And I'm glad I've met all of you. So thank you, each and every one of you.

I'm so proud of who i am, how far I've come and I'm so proud of YOU GUYS for loving what I do so much and interacting and all that jazz.

Thank you, to all of you. Especially, but not limited to:

@albatris @abalonetea @antique-symbolism @bardicbeetle @blackandwhitecircus @bard-coded @chickensarentcheap @dandelion-jester @dragonflylady77 @digital-chance @frayed-neurons @howdywrites @hauntedluminarybbq @hallowedfury @heartshattering @indecentpause @icaruspendragon @irilenaps @insidedamienshead @joshuaorrizonte @jasper-the-menace @kalu-chan @caxycreations @multi-lefaiye @n1ghtcrwler @owl-writing @owlsandwich @pheita @pluttskutt @pen-of-roses @radiozilla @revenantlore @scribble-dee-vee @sleepyowlwrites @sergeantnarwhalwrites @thorlokibrother @theprissythumbelina @uccelletto-di-kokuyo @violetcancerian @vacantgodling @waltzshouldbewriting @wait-a-minute-lassie @jezifster @zmwrites

[artist-emerald]

Trolls Villain dialogue idea

Poppy: Artificial Trolls? Replacing us? Revenge? Why are you doing this?

Villain: Let me...scrap you a book, your majesty. A young creature, born amongst the Trolls, gray and bland. They learn to play instruments and all the songs to go with them. All so they could fit in. Because this little creature couldn't sing or dance like the Trolls could. Sure, they looked like a Troll. Could play like a Troll. Could do everything they could to pretend to be a Troll. But deep down, they knew that weren't a Troll. That I'm not a Troll.

Poppy: Is this seriously all because you can't sing or dance!? You kidnap my boyfriend and I, and then threaten us with those creepy fakes! All because you're jealous!?

Villain: THAT'S NOT JUST THE REASON! I trapped you both because the two of you have gotten in my way too many times!

Poppy: Wh-what are you talking about?

Villain: I've been working for a long time to cement myself as the only ruling performer in the world, and in order to do that I had to get rid of the Trolls one way or another.

Poppy: I don't understand.

Villain: Who do you think led the first Bergen to the Pop Trolls? Told them that eating one would grant them happiness? Who do you think gave Queen Barb the idea to bring all the strings together again, knowing full well they'd get destroyed? How do you think Velvet and Veneer learned they could steal a Troll's talent to gain fame and fortune?

Poppy: No.

Villain: Then you and your precious little boyfriend ruined all of it! But not this time. With my artificial Troll army, the world and it's stage will be mine and mine alone.