#gonna post this on AO3 eventually

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 1)

It wasn't long after Uzi restored N and V's memories that N began to stay over at her “apartment.” more often.

It started when he sheepishly knocked on her door one morning, chassis slightly steaming and looking guilty, tail laying flat against the floor.

“H-H-Hey U-U-zi” His voice was so glichy it was nearly impossible to hear what exactly he was saying, his visor angerly blinking, warning him that he was overheating, as if that wasn't immediately obvious.

“Holy shit! N!” Uzi was immediately concerned, leaning in to help her best freind and to lead him inside, she went to grab his hand to help him. Only to be immediately burned, the temperature of his plating feeling like a stove top.

“Y-y-eah, I'm kinda h-h-ooo-t right now.” He explained as if he wasn't about to melt in front of her. She sprinted to her room, grabbing the canister of oil she'd been sipping on and shoving it in his mouth.

He drank it deeply, emptying the entire container rather quickly, steam plumed around him and he sighed, his joints groaning from the quick constriction back to form.

“Oh wow, that was a little closer than I would have liked. Thanks Uz!” He brightened immediately, tail curling up and beginning to wag, a beaming smile on his face.

“N! What happened? I've never seen you that hot before!” She motioned him in, looking into the hallway to make sure nobody saw him enter. It wouldn't help the already rampant rumors about her. About them.

“Uh, V is in one of her moods after I tried reminiscing with her, she shoved me and I fell into the sunlight.” His explanation was not lacking in enthusiasm, seemingly not thinking about how close the death he just came.

“And she didn't get you oil because…?” Uzi questioned, trying to not notice how he looked around her house in awe, glancing around at everything.

“Oh, because the oil we have is old and a little chunky, it would have taken too long to cool me off before I started to go offline.” He explained, picking up a picture of her father and her, when she was a pill.

“Awww, baby Uzi!”

Blushing, she swiped the picture out of his hands and put it back down.

“Bite me! I'm not cute!” She snapped at him, only for him to laugh lightly, as if that action itself proved whatever point he was trying to make.

“Whatever you say!” He grinned, walking off to pick up another trinket off the shelf and turn it in his hands.

“This isn't the first time you've been here, you've seen it before, also you almost just died. Priorities!”

“I actively avoid thinking about the times I almost die. Also look!” He brought her attention to a picture of her, in a toddler body, bashing her dad in the head with a wrench.

“Looks like you were good with tools even when tiny!” He cooed at her image, Uzi grumbled, trying and failing to swipe the picture from his hands.

“Also, I was unconscious for most of the time I was here. I didn't get to see all your adorable droneling pictures!” He threw his hands up, tail wagging wildly.

Adorable?

“N!” She shouted in indignation, fists balling up and stomping her foot like the was throwing a tantrum.

He put the picture back on the shelf, giggling at her, if he was anyone else she would have bitten back a little harder, but he was incredibly difficult to stay mad at, especially with that crooked, dopey smile.

“Well, I guess I'm stuck with you until nightfall…” She murmured, honestly she had started to become nocturnal herself, being unable to touch sunlight after her strange, fleshy transformation at camp, switching over seemed to be the better option.

“I was about to get ready for bed, if you wanna-”

“Sleepover!” He shouted immediately, looking like he just got the best Christmas gift ever. Uzi couldn't help but smile at him, he was always so endlessly positive.

“Uh, yeah… I guess.” She turned to look aloof, but to also hide her growing fluster, which had been growing more and more common since prom.

She drug him into her room by the arm, partly just to get him away from more of her pictures. And slammed the door behind her. Sighing softly.

When she opened her eyes again, N was sitting on her bed, well more laying, as he was a little too tall to comfortably sit upright without touching the ceiling, and was looking at her nightmare board.

“Mmm. This looks like repressed memories.” He said off-handedly, and he was partly correct, some of them were nightmares, some were things she'd rather be only in her nightmares.

“Just nightmares N.” She replied, going into the corner of the room to find a comfortable shirt to change into. Only to look at N, to realize he was still in his overcoat and hat.

“You want to wear something more comfortable then that coat?” She asked, still pulling through the mountain of clothes.

“Huh? Oh uh, if you have something that fits me.”

Fair enough, he was quite a bit taller than any other worker drone. Especially her.

But luckily, she had hoarded clothes over the years, and finally fished something out that was way too big for her. But would probably fit him just fine. A thin lilac shirt that said. “My Girlfriend Thinks I'm Tall.”

The universe really wanted to shove this crush in her face today. Didn't it?

Whatever, the universe could bite her.

“Here.” She threw the shirt up at him and continued to search for something that suited her. Finally, she saw a faded yellow shirt that read; I'm a Big Freakin’ Ray of Sunshine

Perfect

She turned, only to find N standing naked in the middle of her room, the shirt folded in one hand and his coat draped over the other.

“N!” She immediately whipped around to face the wall, her temperature rising quickly, a violent blush taking over her face.

“What?” He hummed, seemingly unperturbed by being nude in front of her, taking his sweet ass time putting the shirt on.

“You're naked!”

“And? The only difference between us is armor plating.” He responded, pulling the shirt over his head. His voice laced with confusion.

“Still! You don’t see me stripping in front of you!”

N paused for a moment, seemingly pondering this. Before he clicked his tongue.

“I wouldn't mind it, you seem to forget that none of the corpses that make up the spire have clothes.” That made her jump, sometimes she forgot he was a disassembly drone, with his cheerful, loving attitude. And it made her feel a little weird, did all of the worker drones really look so similar?

Did he not think of her as different?

“N-No, I don't care how many you've seen. I don't want you to see me.”

She heard N make some kind of noise, then heard him step out and close the door. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, shit, she didn't realize N would be so nonchalant about it.

She quickly got changed, and reopened the door for N, who met her gaze with a slight blush, and who's hands were shifting against each other awkwardly. Clearly, he'd known he'd said something wrong and overthought it.

“Erm, sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, and I didn't mean to imply that… you look like every other worker drone. Because you don't- uh…” He broke from her gaze for a moment, and his tail flicked irritability. What she could see of his visor he was? Blushing? Maybe?

“You don't look like anyone else. You look like you, and you are my best friend.”

Or maybe he did.

“It's okay, you kinda walk around without pants anyway.”

“So does V!” He defended, before they both dissolved into laughter, awkward moment being pushed aside.

“Come on, let's choose something to watch.” And they walked back into her room, N following as she pulled put a drawer, letting him look at the movies she had.

“A lot of them are animated, looking at live action humans is a little freaky to me.” She admitted, watching as he held each box in his hands. Reading the description of each.

“Oooh, this one is about robots!” He grinned, showing off on of the boxes to her.

“Wall-E? I haven't seen that since I was little.” She vaguely knew it was sappy though, which knowing N, he may have picked up on as well.

‘Yeah sure…” She picked up her homebrew laptop and shoved the disk into the reader, before looking around for a place for both of them to sit.

Her couch was currently covered in railgun parts, where she has been trying (and kinda failing) to repair it after it exploded, she'd nearly had to start from scratch.

But then that left her bed… which would probably end up with the both of them being in pretty close proximity, even more so with how excitable N could get.

N made the choice for her, climbing up to her bed and giving her his hand to help her up.

She blushed, looking away as she took his hand as was hoisted up quickly enough to disorient her, thankfully she didn't loose grip on the laptop.

She landed in his lap, she could tell that much by the ambient warmth radiating from his core, she felt him lean down over her shoulder to start the movie, some of his silvery hair tickling her cheek.

Ah, shit this escalated, does he realize how close we are right now?

Apparently not, as he readjusted himself he forced them closer, Uzi leaning fully against his chest, his head looming above her as she was curled on his lap.

She was extremely happy he couldn't see her visor, which she was sure was nothing but purple at this point.

Still, she eventually relaxed into it, realizing that this was one of the only ways they'd both truly fit on the bed while still being able to see the screen.

She just… didn't remember the movie being so… romantic?

The way Wall-E swooned over Eva's sleek design, melted at her voice, showed her his collection of weird human things… for once she could kinda relate, looking up at the disassembly drone, who's eyes were locked onto the screen.

“Awww, he likes her!” He pointed out when Wall-E tried to hold her hand, and all Uzi could do was shake her head, of course he'd be into romance, that was just so… N.

“Kinda reminds me of when we first met.” She said without thinking, before her words caught up with her and she realized what she was implying.

Luckily, either N didn't call her out or simply didn't notice.

“Yeah… her arm cannon thing is really similar to your railgun.”

Oh thank Robo-Jesus that's what he took from that.

“I don't think you were swooning over me though, with me trying to kill you and everything.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

“Uh- Pfft, I wouldn't swoon over anyone N.”

Yes. Nice Save.

“Thad?” N mentioned, eyes still trained on the screen. Although his tone had shifted slightly, although she couldn't fathom why.

“Ew. No. Sports Jock is not my type, he's just not mean to me.” They both jumped when a lightning strike hit Wall-E as we was trying to recharge her.

“I'm not sure what I'd do if you suddenly went offline like that.” N's voice was uncertain, like it was something he'd been thinking on.

“You worry about that?” Uzi replied, trying to ignore the way her core sped up, but wait his did too.

“Of course, with everything going on I'm afraid someone is going to get hurt in a way I can't fix…” One of his arms wrapped around her, seeking comfort, making her jump slightly.

She wasn't used to other people caring about her to this extent, in the way she knew N did, he was her ride or die and she knew that, and it was worth so much to her.

“If you're talking about V, she can kill us both before taking a breath.”

But showing him that was too scary.

“I don't worry about her as much as I worry about you.” His head rested on hers for a moment, as he watched Wall-E hold onto the side of the spaceship for dear life.

She felt herself smiling, face warm. He was such a wonderful friend, he was one of the only people that truly cared about her.

“I'll be fine… Bite me….” He chuckled, sensing no aggression behind her words. And they fell into comfortable silence, getting reabsorbed back into the movie.

Uzi found herself melting pleasantly in his warmth, she'd expected him to be warm, with his constant need for oil, but had expected it to be more unpleasant, instead it was lulling her to sleep quite rapidly. She felt… safe. And that was weird considering she was cudd- uh leaning against a drone who could end her life before she could even finish her next thought.

But she knew he'd never do that, he would rather melt into a puddle than lay an aggressive hand on her, and in a way that made her feel special, even though he would do the same for any of the worker drones in the bunker.

“Oh she looks really upset…” Her eyes refocused on the screen, Eve shouting at Wall-E while her words faded into the background, showing he wasn't listening.

“He did follow her into space.”

“For love!”

“She doesn't know that, although pretty sure she'd still be mad if she did… it really wasn't a smart decision.” Uzi deadpaned, groaning at N's partly fake offense.

“Love is always the best decision!”

Then please don't let me go

She shook off that thought with a shake of her head, settling back against his chest, realizing his arm was still around her and his head still laid on hers.

They were actually cuddling now, there would be no denying that. But Uzi couldn't bring herself to be upset by it even if a part of herself was screaming about her “reputation.” and her “critical lack of edge.”

“Am I putting you to sleep?” N asked, his voice soft and soothing, it sent pleasant streams of data straight to her core.

“I've already seen the movie, and… you're really warm.” She admitted, looking up onto to find he was looking back at her.

“You don't have to stay awake for me then.”

His eyes were honey, pure and sweet and looking down at her like she was a precious gem. She smiled, eyes dimming as she fell into sleep mode. Was this still just a crush? It didn't feel like one, with the way her core felt full and heavy like it was about to come out of her chest. Was this what love was like? She didn't know, she'd never felt anything close to it before.

[Sleep Mode] appered on her visor and N felt her relax fully into him, letting out a content sigh that made yellow spring to his cheeks. His attention slowly turning to the movie again.

She nuzzled into him in her sleep, making the robot equivalent of a squeak as she did. His core felt light, and a small laugh fell out of his mouth.

He worried about her constantly, with her strange powers and her transformation, she'd put herself in danger, always bravely going into it with so much confidence it tended to rub off on him even if he was nervous. But he still worried, she was still a worker, still small, still so much more fragile. And recently, he'd seen her lacking in confidence, terrified.

Even if she would tell him to bite her if he dared ever call her any sort of fragile. She meant so much to him, his closest friend that he could always count on to be patient with him. She could be prickly, sure, but that was more of a shield she put up to protect herself. Much like the padding of optimism he'd wrapped himself in.

He was really upset knowing how the rest of the colony treated her, as if she was some sort of diseased stray cat that needed to be avoided. It was awful! Uzi had the potential to be so sweet, and it was sad to see her having to create this shell to hide that part of herself.

“Mm… N…” She mumbled in her sleep, and he subconsciously pulled her closer, he'd stopped paying attention to the movie long ago, that was okay, he was recording everything anyway, he'd be sure to pay more attention then.

He was going to make his best freind feel wanted. Like he'd wanted to feel, like she made him feel.

Sleep mode came quickly for him too, until all the sound that escaped the room was the sound of the laptop, until that too died down to nothing.

Next ->

[aroacerick]

sneak peak at a wip

[wicked-bluebird]

take a load off pt. 1

"Beloved, you must get tired standing around the counter all day. Why don't you rest your feet, sit down for a bit?" Sydney suggests, his voice the epitome of polite and concerned.

It doesn't sound like a bad idea. You look around for a chair to pull over, then appraise the counter considering just jumping up and sitting on it. The latter might open you up to punishment should Leighton come in and you didn't want to give the pervert any ammunition.

You're broken from your pondering by a soft throat clearing.

Your eyes meet Sydney's, you can see his gentle smile and the genuine care in his eyes, but you know better than to take it at surface value. You can see the flicker there underneath, a flash of mischief just barely peeking through.

"We can share my seat." He gestures casually to his chair, as if the suggestion is casual, courteous.

You raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what angle he's taking here. He can be a confusing mix of forward and reserved. He could mean literally sharing his seat, side by side - the embodiment of pure and faithful. Judging by the glint in his eye though you think he means his lap.

He languidly move a slender hand to his thigh and lightly pats. Confirmed, you're dealing with 'Sydney the Fallen' here and now.

Your gaze lingers on his gracefully long hand, the way even his veins seem sophisticated, the relaxed manner in which his fingers rest on his upper thigh, only inches away from his... "Your eyes are burning, love" he muses.

You quickly look back up to his face. An almost teasing smile on his lips, a question lingering in his look.

(1) Sit on his lap | ++ Love | + + Sydney's Corruption | ++ Lust (2) Ask him to scoot over | + Love | - Sydney's Corruption | + Lust (3) Decide to stand | - Love

[stabbyfoxandrew]

you know what's fucking insane though???

it's only been 3 days in the mafia front fic. THREE DAYS= ~34k. (so far, we're still on day three rn)

wow i'm truly insane. three days... mein gott

(potential spoilers for this fic in tags???)

[sister-dear]

#9 for soft prompts with Ravioli I am WEAK for shoulder kisses 😍

Shoulder kisses are so so good I agree! There are mouth and cheek kisses in this as well as the requested shoulder kisses. I’m sincerely hoping that’s ok! If you’re not comfy reading that though I’ll gladly take another go. Written as a direct followup to this! From this soft prompts list.

Fandom: A Link Between Worlds Pairing: Link/Ravio Other tags: kissing, new relationship Wordcount: 1113

Ugh. Well. That could have gone better. 

Could also have been worse! But it could have gone better.

Once again, Link staggered home. No broken bones or openly weeping wounds this time, thankfully. The burst of life magic released when those especially large monsters died always took care of all of that. 

No, Link was just tired. Exhausted, really. 

He maybe hadn’t given himself quite enough time to recover after that fever. 

But it didn’t matter. One more monster gone. One more Sage free of Yuga’s entrapping spell.

One more thing Link had to do before he could allow himself a little rest.

He hit the front door at the same brisk pace he’d used all the way home, stepping over the doorsill and dropping his pack to the floor without slowing. 

Ravio jumped at the sudden bang of the door slamming open, squeaked when Link kept walking straight forward and faceplanted in his shoulder. 

“Mr Hero! You’re home! Oh, what’s wrong this time?” He patted Link down as if searching for injury.

“Nothing,” Link muttered. “I missed you.” 

“Oh!” Obviously still a little startled - Link could perhaps have entered his home with a bit more grace and a bit less steely determination written over his face - Ravio returned the embrace regardless. 

It felt a little easier, the second time. A little less hesitant, a little more sure of his welcome.

“I missed you too,” Ravio returned after a long pause wherein Link breathed, trying to gather his famed courage. He maybe shouldn’t be hanging all over Ravio like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to move now that he was finally here. 

He’d had a little speech all figured out. Been practicing it all through that dungeon, to the point of almost lethal distraction, at which point he’d finally forced himself to focus and just finish the thing so he could get back home already. 

Except now he couldn’t quite remember the neat, tidy little way he’d figured out to ask exactly what Ravio meant by the word fond. 

This shoulder under his cheek sure was nice, though.

“Mr Hero!” Ravio’s yelp startled Link to enough awareness to realize he was perhaps leaning a little too hard. 

He might be more tired than he’d thought. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, getting a little more of his feet back under him. He didn’t lift his head, though. Or unwind his arms from where they’d found themselves around Ravio’s waist. They fit remarkably well.

“Maybe you should go to bed?” Came the tentative suggestion. 

Link made a disagreeable noise. There was something he’d wanted to do first… something he had to ask… 

“I’ve been thinking,” he slurred into the scarf. Exhaustion made his head spin. He felt almost giddy, but that wasn’t right. He still had to ask a question.

“About?”

“About what ‘fond’ means.”

“Don’t go expecting discounts!” Ravio declared, despite that he’d given Link exactly that the very first time Link purchased something from him outright. “I still have a business to run!”

Link snorted. 

What was it he’d meant to say next?

“Can I kiss you?”

Hm. That wasn’t it. 

Wait. 

Pulse suddenly pounding in his ears, a great rushing in every extremity, Link jerked up. Ravio’s arms tightened, keeping him from going too far. “I mean. Uh.” He’d had something better to say what was it, what was it–. “I missed you?”

“You already said that. I missed you too. Go back to the other thing.” Every hint of cheer and nervousness that usually colored the way Ravio spoke disappeared in favor of what sounded like complete seriousness. 

“That’s not. You don’t have to– I mean, I’d be happy if fond just meant you wanted to, to. Just be friends. Or.” He’d had an entire dialogue prepared, and he was ripping it to absolute shreds along with any possible chance.

“Yes.” 

Or not.

“Yes?”

“Yes.” Intent. That was the word. Ravio sounded intent. 

Heart still pounding, Link turned his head and kissed Ravio’s cheek through his hood. 

He lingered. Just for a moment. Just long enough for it to register what the action was. Then he pulled away, loosened his arms, giving Ravio space to move back if he wanted. 

Ravio looked at him. Link had no idea what kind of expression lay under that hood. 

A little tentative, feeling suddenly shy, Link curled back down to Ravio’s shoulder. 

Ravio’s hands cupped his face, pulling him up. He yanked his hood back just enough to kiss Link squarely on the mouth. 

This one lasted much, much longer.

~~~

Ravio’s bustling in the kitchen woke Link earlier than he would have preferred the next morning, as it usually did. Today, the soft clattering of dishware and cutlery didn’t seem quite so harsh on his ears. Link spent a little while listening to the happy little hums that he’d begun to associate with the smell of food being prepared. 

Eventually collecting himself enough to get up, he padded across the floor on near silent feet and wrapped his arms around Ravio from behind. 

“Good morning, Mr Hero!”

Link hummed. 

Ravio had his hood on already, but not the scarf. Link pressed his mouth to a place midway down his shoulder that the scarf would usually cover. 

Ravio’s head tipped over onto his, one hand coming up to press Link’s face against himself. “I made breakfast!” he declared, cheery voice at full volume despite the closeness and the early hour. 

“Sounds good.” 

Link didn’t move. Ravio didn’t either. 

Link shifted his mouth a little to the left and kissed the new spot. Then a little more, making Ravio squirm and finally laugh when his lips found that narrow little strip of bare skin. 

Ravio’s shoulder, Link decided, might just be his new favorite spot. 

“Do you want breakfast or not?”

“Is there tea?”

“Of course!” Ravio sounded downright affronted, as if serving breakfast without tea were an insult of the highest order. 

“I’ll take tea and a kiss,” he said, hopeful. 

Ravio squirmed out of his arms, but he turned around and pulled Link against himself instead, leaning back against the counter. Link wrapped his arms around Ravio in return. They still fit just right. “You were ill only a week ago, and you just ran off to fight some horrid monster! Recovering heroes need a proper breakfast!”

“They need kisses, too.” 

“Breakfast first. Then kisses,” Ravio relented. “But don’t take too long! I have a shop to run!” 

Happy with this arrangement, Link dropped one last kiss on the shoulder beneath his chin and pulled away to drop into his spot at the table.

Breakfast was nearly as delicious as the kisses that followed it.

[foolsdiamond]

who wants me to post the first chapter of my dirkjake vampire Totally Not Castlevania Inspired au

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Powerpuff Girls Beach Day Headcanons 💖 💙 💚 🌞 ⛱ 🌊

👙Original headcanons🐚

🏖️ Ao3 version🩴

💖Blossom:

• She wears a bubblegum pink bathing suit that has a red heart in the middle.

•The majority of her time at the seaside is spent staying in the shade while reading a good book.

•Strawberry popsicles are her favorite treat to stay cool. 🍓

•It won’t end well for the person who gets her hair wet.

💙Bubbles:

•She's seeking a really adorable summer look, so she'll be wearing a light blue bathing suit with white polka dots all over it and a cute sun hat.

• Her and Octi build sandcastles in the sand together!

•Bubbles is so nice. She collects seashells to make bracelets for her sisters and the Professor.

•She'll participate in any beach activity with her sisters as long as it's not too scary.

💚Buttercup:

• She'll be wearing a lime green swimsuit with a yellow lightning bolt in the middle.

•She enjoys splashing people.

•The queen of volleyball! She’ll challenge her sisters to a match. (Omg imagine the girls playing volleyball together similar to how they played tag in the PPG movie.)

•When a giant sea creature monster emerges from the ocean and starts causing havoc on the beach, she is the first one to get into an epic fight with it, and of course, win.

[ahalliance]

the chances of florence angle droit seeing your qsmp french fanfic on ao3 are low but never zero

[friskebits]

Have lil juice jury doodles :3 (as always, featuring @angelpuns, @3mutantsinatrenchcoat, and @saturn-anon-with-a-tiara :3)

I wanted to give them cool fall-themed outfits-

[conquerthenight]

I’m glad that going back to uni means I get out of the house, but I feel like my inspiration and motivation for writing fics has totally plummeted ever since. I have so many ideas but when I can get the spoons to sit down and write them it never seems to come out right if at all.

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Alabaster checked his watch again. He sighed in frustration. When would Claymore's seminar be over?

He hated this place: Manhattan. And the bench he was sitting had a pretty clear view of the damned Empire State Building, too. The sooner they were out of here the better it was.

A young child parked his bicycle and sat on the empty spot next to him. His curly black hair swayed with the blowing wind. Alabaster stiffened as the kid pulled out a paper bag out of his pocket. The boy's shirt was bright orange: the exact shade Camp Half-Blood used.

He curled his fist around the card he stored his sword. He doubted the immortal assholes would send a literal child after him when Perseus Jackson was available... but he wouldn't put it past them either.

"Oh, did you like my shirt?"

Alabaster jumped in his place before realising it was the kid. Embarrassment flooded him as he realised the shirt was a regular children shirt with a printed snake on it. Geez, how paranoid he had become?

"I love snakes!" The kid gave a toothy grin, showing off the gap between his teeth. He had a birthmark around his left eye shaped like dragon claws. Alabaster noted that eye was slightly milky unlike the other dark one.

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "That's, uhh, great kid." He checked his watch for the nth time. Shouldn't his father's seminar be over by now?

The kid pulled a handful of seeds and threw them at the pavement, inviting some passing pigeons. Soon, a horde of birds gathered around the kid, and by extension Alabaster.

"Are you waiting for your parents too?" The kid pointed the top of the Empire State Building. "My mom works there."

He side eyed the boy. "Didn't your parents taught you not to talk to strangers? You're like seven."

"Nine actually. You have little siblings and you can't guess it right?"

Alabaster choked. "What?"

"You look like you have siblings." The kid mused as he threw more seeds at the pigeons.

Alabaster sighed and leaned back. "Yeah, I had."

"Did they die? Nine years ago?"

Alabaster whipped his head. Who was this kid?

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry..." The boy mumbled. "Mom and dad get scared too."

'Gee, I wonder why?' would snark Alabaster, if this wasn't a, albeit creepy, child.

"Just..." He took a deep breath, "stranger danger, kid."

"I have a knife!" That would be a concerning statement; if this wasn't New York. "Besides you can't be worse than our mailman."

The child hunched onto himself. "He doesn't like my adoptive parents. I think." He brightened up. "His snakes are nice though!"

"Right..." Where were this kid's parents? Scratch that. Where was Claymore?

The kid started whistling a familiar tune while he continued feeding the birds. It was from a song he didn't know the name of, however, it had been blasted on the Princess Andromeda several times.

"Luke!" A man who was roughly the same age as him from the looks of it yelled from the far corner of the street. He held the leash of a dog as big as a hellhound and was waving with his other hand. Possibly, the boy's father.

The kid got up, pocketed the bird food and mounted his bike. "It was nice to talk to you, General Torrington."

Alabaster froze. He hadn't told his name. He hadn't told this kid anything, there was no way he could know. Unless...

'He chose to reincarnate, you won't find him in the Underworld.'

His mother's words echoed in his head.

"Luke..." He whispered.

"That's my name." The kid beamed and cycled towards his father.

Alabaster put his head in his hands, a sob wrenching itself out of his throat.

He really hated Manhattan.

****

Context: Luke reincarnated but Lethe malfunctioned so :) Something we talked about in the server before.

[gonzaburrow]

to the tide

Tashiro tries to remember, whose idea was it to come here? He doesn’t think it was his; he doesn’t often leave work past midnight with an itch to go to the beach. But he doesn’t not want to be here. Truth be told, the drive over is a blur. 

And so, he’s on the beach with Hanzawa Masato. He abandons his shoes before they leave the car and urges Hanzawa to do the same. The other man complies, and before long they’re meeting the tide roll in. Tashiro squeezes the wet sand in between his toes; it feels weird good and soothing. 

He’s wading into the water before he’s processing his actions. Ankles, to knees, Tashiro stops when the water meets his thighs. He’s extending a hand towards Hanzawa, who joins him without hesitation. They’re holding hands, their hair is blowing in the salty breeze, and Tashiro is struck by a suffocating sense of deja vu. 

Hanzawa’s hair is blown out of his face, and there it is. His every feature is illuminated by the moonlight, and Tashiro’s heart jumps in his chest. He pulls the other man forward and steps back, pulling the pair deeper into the water. 

They’re waist deep, and he’s regretting not removing even his t-shirt. He’s pretty sure they didn’t bring any towels or spare clothes; the air is crisp and threatens to turn into a biting chill. 

They’re in too deep now. Turning back now would be silly. 

Tashiro takes another step, and his foot is met with a strange texture. It summons a shriek out of him, and it’s at that moment he realizes neither of them have spoken since they stepped foot on the beach. 

Hanzawa tries and fails to hold back his laughter. His hands are braced on Tashiro's shoulders. Warmth radiates from his palms through Tashiro's t-shirt. He shivers. 

"You know, you're the only person who consistently steals laughter out of me." 

Tashiro's head whips up, their faces are just a breath apart. 

"Of course, that's cause I'm freakin amazing. " 

The other man's laughter dies down, but he's got his real smile on. "Yeah, you are." 

At this distance, their slight difference in height is present. Hands are still on shoulders, Tashiro is hyper aware of the light pressure.

"Wait no, I was kidding. You weren't supposed to agree with me." 

"You don't give yourself enough credit." 

"If that's how it is, then you don't give yourself enough time to relax." 

"What's this then? I'm feeling pretty restful here, with you." 

"You know that's not what I mean." But then Hanzawa's words sink in. Tonight Tashiro's brain is in a constant scramble, just bees trapped in a jar. "Why’d you say it like that?" It comes out in a mumble, he kicks the sand under the water; whatever he stepped on earlier gets caught on his toes. He tries to ignore it. 

"How would you have me say it?" 

Tashiro processes the response and reaches to free his foot from the seaweed. He braces an arm on Hanzawa’s chest before he realizes his actions. He loses his balance, but Hanzawa’s hands move to his waist and keep him steady. 

They're essentially hugging. Tashiro feels the hard line of muscle under his hand. Their position feels like something out of a shoujo manga. 

"I'm waiting for that answer." He says it like the punchline of a joke. 

Tashiro doesn't have an answer. 

"Can I get back to you on that?"  On instinct, one of his fingers pet the fabric underneath. It's soft and barely textured. It feels nice. A warm hand covers his. The absence on his waist feels wrong. 

"Yeah, or don't. It's not that serious after all, is it?" Hanzawa plucks Tashiro's hand from his chest and steps back. His smile returns to its shallow standard. "Sorry I dragged you here. But thank you for coming." 

They're still speaking in whispers. 

"I don't mind. Can I ask why we're here?" 

"You can ask," Hanzawa says, "but I'm not sure I'll answer." He turns away and walks back to shore. 

Tashiro is stunned. 

Was this one of those serious moments he couldn't read? What would happen if he asked Hanzawa? He wasn't sure if he should be scared of the potential answer or lack of. 

They're watching each other, one on the beach and the other waist deep with waves tapping his back. 

Tashiro wishes the ocean would swallow him whole.

A particularly large wave crashes over him, bowls Tashiro forward. He swallows a most foul mouthful of saltwater. He’s spitting it out, and Hanzawa is still by the shore. He’s got one foot hesitating in the water. But he doesn’t make any further moves. 

Something about their positions, Hanzawa’s hesitance to do something for once in his life, and the ocean water lingering on his tongue makes an animosity bubble in Tashiro’s gut. He’s not an angry guy, he always lets things just roll off his back. He’s a lazy stream.

This moment though, breaks something inside him. 

He’s shouting, screaming; he didn’t know his voice could sound so feral. Tashiro starts moving towards the shore, attempting to maintain composure although the tide is making it difficult. Let this be the one moment he’s actually taken seriously. 

He stops close enough that Hanzawa can hear him, but enough that they’re a generous arm’s length apart. Tashiro’s gathering his thoughts, and trying not to admire Hanzawa’s form when his clothes are sticking to his body; white button up now translucent. 

The other man opens his mouth to speak, but Tashiro brings a hand up to stop him. 

It was now or never. 

“You can’t just run away like that.” Tashiro says. 

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” 

Waves crash in the distance. 

“You always have an answer until it comes to yourself. You gotta stop putting yourself in punishing situations, man. I’m not letting you deflect this time.” 

“It’s not that easy.” Tashiro almost misses his words; the ocean threatens to bury his voice under its sound.

A chuckle sneaks out from Tashiro’s throat. He knows it’s not a funny situation, but the absurdity of how stubborn Hanzawa could be, it hit him in a strange way. 

“Sorry, I know there’s nothing funny. But I don’t think it needs to be that deep?” He heaves a deep sigh. His mouth is still bitter from the water. “Why don’t you try being more direct? Everything you say is so enigmatic; I never know what’s for real and what’s a joke.” 

Hanzawa’s eyebrows stitch together. It’s such a foreign look; he doesn’t look like himself. Their eyes are meeting, and Tashiro can’t tell if water sprayed on the other man’s face or if he shed a few tears. 

“The problem with that, my dear Tashiro, is I’m not entirely sure myself.” 

“Well,” Tashiro invades Hanzawa’s space and envelopes him, pulling his head into the space beneath his chin. “That’s a good place to start. Thank you.” 

[abrthephantomq]

Encoder Zim - Teaser bit

Dib stood at the edge of the building, staring down at the busy street below. He had a limited amount of time – and a limited amount of visibility – to complete his mission. 

So of course, as he began to set up his weapon, he found himself overthinking. 

He knew the blindspots. He knew he was literally in the only position in the downtown area that wasn’t under some type of government, corporate, or private surveillance. He knew that if he was going to complete his mission objective (Take out Mr. President-Man), he had to do this quickly, perfectly, and confidently. 

But what if he missed a blindspot? What if the Super Secret Service already knew that he was here, setting up his rifle, and they were just waiting to corner him? Would they even let him get a shot off first? Or would they just shoot him before he goes to take aim? 

He’d been too successful as a Swollen Eyeball. He’d joined the network when he was eleven, sure – but he hadn’t known back then that it would grow into an actual international spy ring. He hadn’t known that he’d be sent on his first solo mission when he was eighteen. 

At nearly twice that, his stomach twisted as he thought back to that first mission. His luck held out then; and it had held out on every mission since. But that first mission had been a near thing – after all, all eighteen year olds are reckless. All eighteen year olds think themselves invincible. 

Dib had been no exception. Thanks to that sense of invincibility, his first mission left him with only one functioning eye and a wicked scar across half of his face. 

The fact that he went back out into the field after that – that he continued to chase after the monsters who unleashed paranormal havoc on the Earth for their own personal gain – well.

Gaz had called him stupid. Gaz had called him stupid since they were children, though, so her words never quite landed the way she’d probably wanted them to. 

Still, something about this mission settled in his gut like a cinderblock: unmoving and huge and disrupting his digestive system’s processes. He didn’t like it. He couldn’t shake the feeling. Something, or someone, was watching him – he was sure of it. 

And yet, he finished setting up his weapon anyway. 

And yet, he took his one good eye and looked down the scope, making the miniscule adjustments to his aim. 

Lack of depth perception aside, Dib was the best shot the Swollen Eyeballs had. They’d been following Mr. President-Man’s actions for years, now. Dib knew this was likely the only opportunity any of them had at picking him off. 

He breathed in. Steadied himself. Watched Mr. President-Man through his scope. Calculated the shifts in the wind and how it’d impact the bullet’s flight path. 

By all means, it should have been a perfect shot. 

And yet –

[raine-world]

Autocorrect stop changing "Quirrel" to "Squirrel" challenge: Impossible.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Hi! So I'm reading all your dbda fics on ao3 and couldn't decide where to comment since I'm eating them up, so here I am xD Just wanted to say they're all amazing and so sweet. I particularly love the one with the disguises and the one with the ghost photography — you explored the feelings about death and still belonging to the world in such a wonderful way. I really like the two of them taking up space deliberately. God I just love them very much. Thank you for everything! I'm still going through it so the painland week works may get me screaming again, lol

Omg 😭😭😭😭😭Thank you so much!!! This is the most lovely message to get I'm so happy you're enjoying all the stuff I'm putting out there 💛💛💛💛💛 I'm having such a good time writing them and I'm honestly overwhelmed by the response to my work, just completely overwhelmed with love 😭💛

I enjoyed writing those two so much!! I get so in my feelings about them feeling left out from life, especially poor Charles - honestly writing them is practically therapy at this point xD Thank you so much I hope you like the Painland Week fics!! 💛💛💛💛💛

[jamiesfootball]

I’m still thinking about this https://www.tumblr.com/jamiesfootball/746417200263528448/moe-stared-face-to-face-with-the-one-eyed-rat-and and just how moving it was. Was there something that inspired you to write it or any bits that are your favorite?

I have had Moe and Remy stuffed in my pocket for a while now. I knew back in a previous installment (Isaac and Bun-Bun) that Moe and his pet rat were going to have a 'tch, the world doesn't get us' relationship, but frankly I thought that was going to be an autistic thing. Most of my headcanoning for Moe is was built in the always-a-different-gender au that lives in my head, where Moe is more aggressively nonbinary.

So after months of noodling around, it just sort of connected finally what the story of Moe and the rat and the world not understanding was going to be about. And once my brain's made a connection, I don't really question it - I just follow it through to its natural conclusion. Which is how we got this.

One thing I like about this sort of trust-fall into a story is how it's not until I'm writing it that the themes spring out - I get to discover them the same as everyone else!

Like how just because Moe has an inkling of what he is, that doesn't make him omniscient to what everybody's else's deal is, nor does it make him perfect at navigating uncomfortable situations. This is still very much the guy who's answer to Isaac's rant in the La Locker Room Aux Folles is to ponder 'so Isaac's gay?'

He's picking up hints of things but he doesn't know what they mean (Colin, Dani and Thierry, Jamie). He has unexamined prejudices and hostilities within himself that he hasn't confronted (for instance, that other people in the locker room might also feel the sense of compulsory masculinity and heterosexuality). For someone who's quick to share his opinions on most things, he can't bring himself to speak up on a topic that creates real vulnerability, and this creates an environment in which the people who care about him are trying to guess what's wrong.

He's still in the adjustment stage in figuring himself out, where he's done the work on figuring out the labels but not how to apply them to himself or what that means in regards to how he wants to be treated. Everything feels raw and tense, and there's very much an undercurrent of internalized self-hatred that I didn't expect to creep through but that I feel makes sense for where he is on his journey.

Honestly, this fic is a good example of what I write and what I read not always aligning. Even now, it feels like for as deep as things got, I didn't do a very good job at bringing the characters back out of that hole. In a lot of ways, they're still scrambling in the dirt.

That's probably appropriate for the story. It's just not what I prefer myself