#laser pointer is working oh yeah

[eobe]

🙀✨

AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! The EYES!! I can‘t… 👀😂… OMG IT WORKS! And Tech‘s face 🫠 I‘m blissfully destroyed for today, your honor 🫶✨ Thank you so much… I need caf again… pheewwwww calm down racing pulse, I need you for making caf ☕️

I love it and OOOOOH I know what happens next 😱👀 whenever I manage to realize it 🫖

Hallmarks of Crosshair the black cat: kill the red laser dot Tech will handle it. @eobe @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe @covert1ntrovert

[rosemaryhoney27]

“Danny vs. Gotham: Rogues, Riddles, and Regret”

aka: Gotham's Villains Realize They've Made a Terrible, Terrible Mistake

Vlad wanted to leave. He wanted to scoop Danny up, fly far away, and pretend the Gotham trip never happened. But Bruce had insisted Danny stay another week for “family bonding.” And Vlad—against his better judgment and his rapidly thinning sanity—had agreed.

What he hadn’t agreed to was sending Danny out on a “light patrol run” with Red Robin and Spoiler.

“He’s a child!” Vlad hissed. Bruce shrugged. “He suplexed a gang leader and sword-fought Damian with a smile.” Tim sipped his fourth espresso and muttered, “Kid’s got better reaction time than half of us. Might as well let him stretch his legs.” Vlad: internal screaming intensifies

Later That Night – Gotham Financial District, 10:22 PM

It should’ve been a routine patrol.

SHOULD’VE.

But this was Gotham. So naturally, they ran into Riddler. And not just Riddler. Riddler with a microphone, a speaker setup, and a slideshow.

“Riddle me this, Batbrats!” he declared, laser pointer in hand. “What flies forever, rests never, has no lungs but can still scream?!”

Danny blinked. “That’s wind.”

Riddler paused. “…I—I wasn’t done.”

“You said it in the wrong order. Classic misdirection. Also, you did this one in Amity Park two years ago. You posted it online.”

“…What?”

“Yeah, it was part of your ‘multi-state riddle tour.’ You rhymed ‘obfuscate’ with ‘paperweight.’ My friend Tucker roasted you for a week.”

Spoiler wheezed. “OH MY GOD.”

Tim was filming. “This is gold.”

Danny smiled like a polite little demon. “If you want new material, I can send you Tucker’s podcast link. He does villain reviews.”

Riddler stared, brain lagging. “I—I have—graphics—”

“You spelled ‘cerebral’ wrong on slide 4.”

“…I hate it here.”

Five Minutes Later

Riddler’s henchmen surrendered unprompted. Riddler ran face-first into a recycling bin while trying to flee. Danny phased him through the lid and said, “Please stay in there until Gotham has better riddles. Thank you.”

Tim couldn’t breathe. Spoiler was crying laughing. Danny handed Riddler a sticker that said “I Tried My Best (And Failed)” before floating away.

But It Got Worse

Because then, Scarecrow showed up.

And naturally, he released his newest fear gas on the group.

“Let’s see what horrors hide in your soul, little ghost,” Crane sneered.

Danny blinked as the gas swirled around him.

Then sneezed.

Then sniffed it.

Crane: “What—what are you doing—?!”

Danny: sniff sniff “Ooh. Cinnamon and despair. Very vintage.”

Crane: “THAT’S NOT HOW FEAR GAS WORKS—”

Danny exhaled, glowing green, and the gas dissipated.

“I’ve been inside the Ghost King’s mind, dude. This is like spa day fog machine levels. You want real terror? I have a VHS of Tucker’s high school poetry.”

Crane dropped his canister and backed away. Spoiler whispered, “He’s ungasable.” Tim, still filming: “That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve seen this week.”

Danny offered Scarecrow a cough drop and a tissue.

“Bless your heart,” he said.

Crane ran.

Later – Back at the Cave

Danny was handing out debrief cookies. Again.

Bruce was watching the security cam footage with the face of a man who was trying to process “he sniffed the fear gas.”

Dick leaned over. “This kid’s either going to save Gotham or traumatize it into behaving.”

Jason nodded solemnly. “He gave Riddler a sticker. That’s psychological warfare.”

Damian looked up from sharpening his sword. “He told me he once bit a cursed toaster.”

Vlad, in the background, was staring at the Batcomputer like it had personally betrayed him. “I—he—he ate fear gas. He corrected Riddler’s grammar. He is not normal.”

Bruce looked at Danny, who was humming while reorganizing the med supplies.

“…He’s a Wayne.”

Vlad: “NOOOOOOOOOO—”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Cats

Alien: Thanks for inviting me over. Alien: I’ve never been in a human’s home before so this will be- *sees cat sitting on couch* Alien: What is that? Human: That is Fred. *Turns to cat* Human: Say hi Fred. Fred: *MEOW* Alien: I was not aware you had a roommate. Human: What? Human: No, he’s my pet. Alien: You keep a sentient being as a pet? Are you a monster? Human: No; but Fred is. Fred: *MEOW* ----------------------

Alien: *goes to sit down, accidentally steps on fluffy ball* *Cat’s head shoots up* Human: You need to run. Alien: What? Why? Human: You just stepped on Fred’s favorite toy. Alien: So that means I am in danger? Fred: *low growling sound* Human: It’s too late….. --------------------------

*Thirteen stitches later* Alien: How can something so fluffy be so angry!?!?! Human: Domestication probably. Alien: Is that not meant to breed out the violence? Human: Normally yes, but with cats it just condensed it. ------------------------

*Next day* *Door slowly opens* Alien: Is it safe to come in? Human: Let me check. *Picks up Fred and holds him in front of alien* Fred: *Low growling noise* Human: No it is n- Alien: *Slams door shut quickly* ---------------------

*Two days later* Alien: *Sipping drink* Alien: What can I do to win over your furry slave? Human: First off, he is a pet not a slave. Human: And even if that was the situation I technically am Fred’s slave. Alien: *Surprised* You are one of the most advanced species in the galaxy; having mastered space travel and the manipulation of matter itself. Human: And yet I am the one cleaning up his shits. Alien: *Opens mouth to counter, then sips instead when nothing comes to mind* ----------------------

Human: Why does it matter that you want Fred to like you? Human: I thought you hated him? Alien: Were he not an animal I would have sworn a blood oath to destroy him and his family for what he has done to my face. Human: I ask again; why does it matter? Alien: Because for reasons beyond my understanding I feel compelled to have that little death machine love me. Human: Welcome to being a cat owner. ------------------------

*Three days later* *Door slowly opens* Alien: Are you ready? Human: I’ve got Fred. Alien: And you’re sure this will work? Human: Positive. *Alien walks in and Fred starts growling* Human: Get ready; I’m releasing Fred. *Puts Fred down who begins sprinting towards alien* *Alien holds out tiny tube with goop pouring out end* Fred: *MEOW!* *Stops murder sprint and begins sniffing and licking tube enthusiastically* Alien: So you bribe him with food? Human: Works on us humans as well. ------------------

Alien: Do you think I have won him over? *Fred walks up and brushes against Alien* Human: I think you’re good.

Alien: It felt like being embraced by the goddess herself. --------------------

Alien: So besides eating, sleeping, and acts of disproportionate violence; what else do they like to do? Human: Fred loves to play. *Picks up laser pointer and flashes it around room* *Fred’s head shoots up, does the butt wiggle, then lunges at the laser* Alien: What fascinating technology. Human: Yeah; we also use this to guide missiles for air strikes in wars. Alien: Your pet enjoys playing with tools of death? Human: I think that’s one of the reasons he enjoys it so much. ------------------

Alien: *Looks down at shirt* Alien: What is this? Human: Oh yeah, forgot to mention he’s a heavier shedder. Human: Sorry about that. Alien: Do not worry, for I too shed my skin. *Proceeds to peel off skin until raw muscle and bone is left* *Casually tosses aside empty skin suit which Fred walks over to and cuddles in* Human: Thank you for that fresh nightmare material. Alien: *slurring words due to no lips* Yoooou’re welllllcoommme.

[eternalgirlscout]

sometimes i reawaken my riz & kalina brainworms and i go reread the bits and pieces of a fic that's been sitting in my google docs since 2020. i do NOT remember the plot i had planned but it was an au where kalina kidnapped riz when he was ~5 and was planning to raise him as her little baby assassin. pok and sklonda eventually got him back after kalina burned their apartment building down to try to kill them, and riz came out of the experience with fucked up (mechanically soulknife rogue) powers that he is incapable of being responsible with and a little taste of Evil Cat Babysitter Trauma. i don't think i'm ever going to finish it, and it's not enough for a full ao3 post, but have this section that almost works on its own:

The Sword of Shadows works in the cell—that is, it teleports him far enough to be rebuffed by a wall, then makes up the rest of the Misty Step’s thirty feet by throwing him back across the room. Riz bounces between the floor, walls, and ceiling like a screensaver. Across the hall, Fig, still disguised as Agent Worrell, tracks the movement with all the enthusiastic confusion of a cat with a laser pointer.

“The Ball,” Fabian grouses from his cell. “Stop. It’s not going to work.”

“I’m—trying—to—” Riz replies in staccato snaps as he vanishes and reappears. At last, the sword runs out of distance. He’s deposited, scowling, in the middle of the floor.

“Leave him alone, Fabian,” Adaine says. She shoots another finger of Ray of Frost at the visibly unfrozen lock of her own cell door. “At least he’s trying.”

“I beat up my dad and talked to my bike!” Fabian whines. “So don’t talk to me about trying, alright? God.” He hunches down on the prison cot and turns toward the back wall.

Riz looks down at the sword in his hand. Its black blade doesn’t shine. There is no oil slick iridescence, but rather a line of darkness, of absence, like a hole in space. That perfect blackness clicks in the back of his mind. It blends perfectly into another shape, a slinking presence—he remembers, suddenly, how the plaque in the arcade said the Sword of Shadows was forged.

“Huh.” Riz packs the sword into his briefcase. He makes sure everything is there: old arquebus, business cards, Gukgak gun, crystal.

“What are you doing?” Fig asks. Adaine looks up and squints at Riz, packing his things as if for a trip.

“Probably? I’m about to bounce around my cell again,” Riz admits. “But I have an idea.” He closes his eyes, points himself at the hallway outside the cells, and—

Whoosh.

“The Ball! What the fuck—”

Riz opens his eyes to find himself six inches from Fabian’s startled face as it shifts into reflexive annoyance.

“Shit.” Riz leans back against the wall.

“How did you do that?” Kristen cries, able to see into the cell that Riz and Fabian now share. 

Gorgug cries a long “Aaah!”

“What did you—Riz, did you just Misty Step again?” Adaine’s voice sounds frantic with confusion. “I thought you could only do that once per day, and—why did it work that time? Well, not work, but. You made it to a different cell?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t a Misty Step,” Riz explains. He walks over to the bars of the cell to see if he can peer out and look at Adaine. “It was my, uh, my teleport thing. I thought it might be different.”

“You could fucking teleport this whole time?” Fig cries.

Riz blinks.

“Yeah,” he says. “I thought you guys knew that.”

“No!” Adaine, Fig, Kristen, and Fabian say in unison.

“Did I know that?” Gorgug asks.

Riz shrugs. “I guess you do now. It’s not that impressive. I don’t have a lot of control over where I end up.”

“And you can just… do that?” Fabian asks.

“I can, yeah. It’s, it’s a long story.”

“So,” Fabian looks pointedly back at Riz’s empty cell, “you can, ah, go back to your own room?”

“Wowww,” Kristen says.

Like an explosion went off, the rest of the party starts talking over one another to admonish Fabian for being rude, who huffs, “Oh, sorry, I’m supposed to just share my tiny cot that I barely fit on while we are all in prison together, is that it?”

“The cots are pretty small,” Gorgug admits quietly. “My legs hang off the end.”

“Fabian’s barely taller than I am,” Kristen laughs.

“That is not true—”

“‘Ey, ‘ey, ‘ey, what’s goin’ on in here?” One of the beat cops rushes down the hall. “What’s the—Hey! Where’d he go?” The cop jumps cartoonishly at seeing Riz’s empty cell. “Aw jeez, aw man, we gotta catch the little guy. All units, we got another one busted out.”

“Not busted out!” Riz pipes up, at the same time Fig says, “Yeah, and he locked me in this cell too!” as Angela Worrell. 

Agent Worrell herself strides down the cell block a moment later.

“Get back to your desk, officer. None of you are permitted to speak to any of these children again, am I clear?” Her sharp eyes spy Riz—who is, admittedly, making absolutely no effort to hide. “How the fuck did you get over there?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, you fake bitch?” Fig taunts. Agent Worrell pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.

-

Riz sleeps poorly anywhere and everywhere. Jail is no exception.

In Ballaster, the train comes through every night at three forty-six in the morning, give or take. Despite the many moves, Riz has lived in orbit around the train tracks all his life. Half the time he’s awake when it chugs by anyway, but on the occasions he isn’t, it pulls him close to waking before the familiar rumble puts him back at ease.

The Elmville Police Station is nowhere near the train tracks, so every morning at three forty-six, Riz wakes up and finds himself startled by silence.

He pulls the thin blanket up to his chin and tries to wiggle into a more comfortable position. It’s well into spring, but the nights get chilly and the jail’s central heating has never been reliable. As Riz rolls onto his side, he catches sight of the dark hallway—and peering out of that darkness, right at him, a pair of eyes.

Riz freezes, prey-still. For a brief second he thinks the yellow gleam might be his mom, but the pupils are too slitted for how dark it is, the eyeshine too cold. Riz sits up. The shadow splits from the rest of the darkness, solidifying in a familiar silhouette of black against the darkvision gray of the rest of the world.

“Hey, kid,” she says. “You’re in a real pickle this time, huh?”

“I—” He swallows. A million questions rise in his throat. They cause a tightening not unlike the feeling of an oncoming sob.

“I’d appreciate it if you kept this visit on the down low, Riz,” she interrupts. “You won’t like what happens if you wake up one of your friends while I’m here.” She smiles. Her teeth are needles in a mouth that wants to reassure him and never will again.

Riz throws the blanket off and hops out of bed. His heart quakes like a bird in the rain. Cold floor on bare feet freezes his toes. He’s shaking from top to bottom, inside and out, but he forces himself to walk to the metal bars and wrap his hands around them, tilting his head up to look her in the eye. Her pupils expand and narrow again at his approach.

With a confidence he certainly doesn’t feel, silently pleading that his voice won’t crack, Riz asks, “What do you want, Kalina?”

“Not even a hello?” She crosses her arms. “It’s been a long time. You could stand to be more polite to a family friend.”

“No, I don’t think I could.”

Kalina sucks an offended breath in through her teeth. “Yikes. You were always such a sweet kid during our time together. What happened?”

Riz says nothing. He glares, hoping the green shine in his eyes conveys disdain instead of fear. He has plenty of both.

“Fine.” She puts paws in the air in a wry show of innocence. “No pleasantries. I get it. I’m just here to talk.”

“I’m not stopping you.” Riz doesn’t break eye contact, but his ears twitch as he listens for the sounds of his friends’ breathing. To his right, Kristen snores loudly enough to wake the dead; Gorgug mumbles in his sleep to his left. Adaine trances silently—Riz wonders if it would be easier to break her out of that than to wake up someone who properly sleeps. Fig is always restless, so at least her tossing and turning means she’s okay. Fabian is a silent lump in the darkness.

“Here’s my thought. We make it a game, like we used to. You remember the games we used to play, don’t you, Riz?”

“Nope,” Riz says through gritted teeth.

“We both know that’s not true. You were practicing earlier today! When you zipped into your friend’s cell over there. Am I right?” Kalina gestures over her shoulder, toward Fabian, and grins.

Riz bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes copper.

“How do you know about that?” he asks after a long moment. He hates that he can’t resist the question—hates that he’s giving her exactly what she clearly wants.

“Riz, honey.” She sounds so maternally patronizing, it makes him want to bite through his own tongue. “I know everything about you. You think I ever really left? I’ve been looking out for my guy.”

She reaches through the bars as if to ruffle his hair. He ducks away, a full cunning action disengage, before she can make contact. There is no flicker of hurt on her face, or even surprise, at the avoidance. Kalina pulls her paw back. She won’t stop fucking smiling.

“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” she continues. “Getting out of this place.”

Riz freezes.

“You can get me and my friends out?”

Kalina cocks her head.

“You can get you out. I’ll tell you all about my cunning plan if you agree to play the game.”

“I’m not five years old,” Riz snarks. “I don’t want to play games with you anymore.”

“Oh, they grow up so fast.” She rolls her eyes. “Fine, since you’re a mature young man now, let’s call it a deal. A wager, even, if that soothes the trust issues you’ve clearly got going on.”

“Gee, wonder why,” Riz mutters under his breath. Kalina’s pupils expand, her only tell. A tell of what, Riz doesn’t have the familiarity to say. Not anymore.

“Here’s the deal: I tell you everything you need to know to be out of this jail by morning, and you,” she leans in, pupils razor-thin yet again, “don’t tell anyone you saw me.”

Riz stares. Kalina waits.

“We all get out by tomorrow?”

“There’s the catch. You’re sharp, kid. I see why you’re gunning for that investigator’s license.” She leans back into a relaxed posture and shakes her head. “It would just be you. Nobody else.”

“I’m not leaving without my friends,” Riz says without a moment’s hesitation. This is a hill he can die on. In the idiomatic sense, ideally.

“You’re not even curious? This isn’t the only time you’ll need to get out of a sticky situation, I can promise you that. Half of Spyre is littered with the bones of goblins who couldn’t get away quick enough.”

Riz’s icy fear melts. In its place flares a smoldering anger.

“I got away from you,” he says coldly.

Kalina tsks.

“This is exactly what always frustrated me about you, Riz. You’re so clever, but you can never just do the smart thing.”

She steps back from the door. Out of the dim aura of light coming in through the window of Riz’s cell, Kalina fades into shadow more than should be possible. Riz knows the kinds of things she can make possible. He keeps the shining points of her eyes in the center of his vision.

“There’s no point if I’m the only one escaping,” he says. “And I’m definitely not going with you.”

“Oh,” a laugh bleeds into Kalina’s voice, “I’m not bringing you with me anywhere. You’re always welcome, Riz, I hope I’ve made that clear, but you’re your own person. I just want to help.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m not lying to you. And, to prove it,” her smile gleams white in the darkness, “I’ll leave you with two pieces of information. Less than I would have given you if you’d taken my deal, but a hell of a lot more than nothing. Consider it a trade for sacrificing your precious sleep to listen to an old cat. Sound fair?”

Slowly, stiffly, Riz nods.

“This one’s a teaser for what I’d’ve spelled out for you if you weren’t hell bent on giving your old man a run for his money when it comes to obstinance. Pay attention, because I’ll only say it once.” She slinks closer. Even with darkvision, Riz can’t make out which swimming pieces of darkness are Kalina and which might be her shadow. The effect blurs the edges of what, in the light, is clearly a tabaxi into something nearly serpentine. “Your aim’s off.”

A beat passes, silent. Kalina doesn’t blink.

“What?” Riz croaks.

“I said what I said. That’s your problem, kid. The theory was sound, it’s just your shoddy aim. Why do you think you ended up in one of these other cells?” She glances over at Fabian’s sleeping form. Riz feels a brief flash of panic before she looks back to him, slitted eyes wide and questioning.

“The—there’s a ward, they must be connected—”

“Why don’t you ask your friend Adaine about how these spell sinks work? Ah—” Kalina holds up a paw when Riz is about to interrupt with another question. “I’ve already given away too much. You’re getting more for your money, expert haggler. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

The combination of praise and condescension pricks at a pair of tender reflex points in Riz’s brain: a need to please, and a need to prove any and all underestimation wrong. He doesn’t remember how she spoke to him years ago, but his dreams do. Apparently, she’s always known precisely how to press his buttons.

“And here’s the second thing,” Kalina continues. “Not a threat, just something to think about. Ready?”

“Ready,” Riz growls reluctantly.

“Think for a second about what your mom would do if she knew I came to see you.” Kalina lets a beat pass. “If you want, you can ask her what happened last time she came after me. Would you bet her life on her getting lucky twice?”

“How—” Riz cuts himself off and lowers his voice when he hears how loud he’s getting. “How is that not a threat?”

“Hey,” Kalina shrugs, “I’ve got nothing against Sklonda, but when you corner someone with claws, don’t be surprised when she scratches. Like I said,” she finally blinks, and something about the movement looks wrong, “think about it. Night, kid.”

With a wink, and a break in time like blinking or blacking out, Kalina disappears.

[fictionfanatic-wren]

The robin games

chapter 5/7. The Robin Games - Chapter 5 - Fictionfanatic_Wren - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

The small, dimly lit maintenance room was packed wall-to-wall with capes, armor, and confusion. Superman hovered just above the ground, arms crossed. Green Arrow was crouched near the half-eaten protein bar like it was a crime scene. Wonder Woman stood by the door, stone-faced. Hal Jordan paced, while Barry looked like someone had kicked his dog. “Alright,” Dinah said, hands on her hips. “Someone needs to explain why it smells like old coffee, protein bars, and deodorant for teenage boys in here.” “Because someone’s been living here,” Ollie grumbled, holding up the half-unwrapped bar with two fingers. “Look at this. Half-eaten. Not even wrapped properly. There’s coffee residue in the cup holder and prints on the terminal.” “That’s definitely not ours,” Barry added, squinting at the cup. “That’s the mug I’ve been looking for since yesterday. Yesterday, people.” “So someone’s been camping out on the Watchtower without us knowing,” Hal said, turning to Bruce with narrowed eyes. “Care to explain how your billion-dollar security system missed a freeloader living in the walls?” Bruce stood silent, face unreadable. “It didn’t miss them,” he said finally, tone low. “It found them just now.” “That’s not an answer,” Hal shot back. “I’m still processing the data,” Bruce replied smoothly, eyes never leaving the half-powered computer console. Clark floated a little closer, scanning the equipment with his x-ray vision. “There’s a whole tech setup hidden behind the panels,” he reported. “Wires, a motion sensor jammer, even a router spoof. This wasn’t slapped together. This was deliberate.” “So the real question,” Ollie muttered, “is which one of us brought a secret intern onboard.” Barry perked up, hopeful. “Maybe it’s a stowaway from Earth? A well-meaning super-fan?” “With access to League systems?” Diana said, one brow arching. “And the ability to bypass our security and, according to you, eat your pizza?” Barry deflated. “...Yeah, okay, probably not a fan.” “Let’s take stock,” Dinah said, ticking off her fingers. “We’ve had: stolen pizza, missing coffee mugs, glitter bombs in the armory, Green Arrow’s door screaming shame at him, and now someone is nesting in our walls. Someone very skilled.” Hal rubbed his temples. “Okay, real talk. If this is about the laser pointer prank from six months ago, I already apologized, Barry.” “That’s what you want me to think,” Barry snapped, arms flailing. “Maybe this is the long con. The real revenge!” “You are not important enough to sabotage with a long con,” Bruce said flatly, stepping past them to inspect the panel Tim had hastily closed. Everyone froze. “Spooky,” Clark said carefully. “That sounded kinda personal.” “Let’s not fight,” Diana said, sighing. “Let’s focus. Whoever’s here is skilled enough to hide, hack, and infiltrate without being caught for days. We need a plan.” “Oh, I’ve got one,” Ollie muttered. “We burn the whole maintenance wing and flush them out.” “Ollie.” “What? It worked with raccoons.” Bruce straightened from the console. “No fire” he said. “But we lock down non-essential areas. Increase patrols. Motion sensors, heat trackers, and set traps in likely routes.” Everyone nodded, except Barry, who just looked mournfully at his empty mug. “…I miss my coffee.”

Tim Drake moved quickly through the narrow metal duct, his body pressed low and knees aching from the awkward angles. He was running on pure adrenaline now, he’d narrowly escaped being discovered in the maintenance room, but not without losses. His spare toolkit, the laptop charger, and Barry’s coffee mug were all left behind. “Fantastic,” Tim muttered under his breath, the distant hum of voices below fading as he crawled deeper into the Watchtower’s belly. “All because someone decided to trigger an alarm right next to me.” He paused at a junction in the vent, twisting to glance at the corridor below through a slatted grate. Then, Thump. The faintest vibration in the metal above him. He stilled. Every instinct screamed caution. Someone else was in the shaft. Tim slowly reached for a small baton from his belt and turned. From the shadows, a low voice spoke: “You’re incredibly loud for someone who’s supposed to be stealthy.” Tim froze. A small figure crouched just ahead, perched in the shadows like a gargoyle. Damian. The youngest Robin looked perfectly at ease, barely winded, his cloak tucked tightly around his small frame, expression full of judgment. Tim narrowed his eyes. “You tripped the alarm, didn’t you.” Damian tilted his head. “Of course I did. This is a competition. Only the competent deserve to win. You were getting too comfortable.” Tim exhaled sharply, crawling closer so they could talk without echoing. “You little gremlin, I had a whole system running. I was fine until your stunt brought the League breathing down my neck.” Damian’s eyes gleamed in the dim light. “You were growing complacent. And it was funny.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know if they’d found my stuff-” “Then you would’ve lost. You should thank me for teaching you the importance of vigilance.” Tim stared at him. “You sound exactly like Bruce when he’s being a hypocrite.” “A compliment.” Tim groaned. “You stole Dick’s gear too, didn’t you?” Damian didn’t answer, but his smug silence spoke volumes. Tim muttered something under his breath that was definitely not appropriate for younger ears. The two stared at each other in silence, crouched in opposite corners of the vent. For a moment, there was a grudging, still tension between them. Then Tim sighed. “Fine. Truce. Just for today. I need a new hiding spot.” Damian raised a brow. “I’m not sharing my camp.” “I don’t want it. Just a direction that isn’t crawling with League members and panic.” Damian considered this. Then he jerked his chin to the left. “Upper deck. Storage vents near the armory. Leaguers don’t patrol there much.” Tim paused, then gave a curt nod. “Thanks.” Damian arched a brow. “Try not to get caught. It would be… disappointing.” Tim rolled his eyes and began crawling away. “Right back at you, gremlin.” Damian smirked as he disappeared into the shadows, already thinking of his next move.

Jason pressed himself against the cool metallic wall, breathing shallowly as he listened to the distant sound of boots echoing through the corridor. Way too many boots. He peeked around the corner. Green Arrow. Black Canary. Flash. All moving in different directions, radios buzzing on their hips. “Maintenance room sweep’s clear,” Dinana’s voice crackled over the comms. “Yeah, but somebody left a thermos of my coffee in there,” Barry hissed. Jason ducked back, swearing under his breath. This was bad. The League was in full lockdown mode now, walking around like a bunch of angry substitute teachers trying to catch kids passing notes. All because of one little triggered alarm and a missing mug. Okay. And maybe the trip wire in the gym. And maybe the slightly rigged training bot that randomly screamed insults at ollie for two hours. And, yeah, okay, a few pranks. He crept backward into a dark corridor that led to the utility crawlspaces. His old hiding spot in the storage bay was now way too risky, at least three League members had passed through in the last hour. Jason muttered to himself as he climbed into an access tunnel. “Could’ve just let Tim or Damian take the fall, but nooo. I had to switch Barry’s toothpaste with marshmallow fluff and now the whole tower’s on DEFCON 1.” He crawled deeper until he found a narrow space behind a ventilation conduit, the metal panels warm against his back. He took off his helmet, wiping sweat from his brow, then pulled a granola bar from his pocket and bit into it like it owed him money. Footsteps passed by again above. Jason closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow. This was fine. This was manageable. He’d hide here for a bit, wait for the tension to cool, maybe frame Hal later if things got dire. No one suspected that Red Hood himself was in the watchtower. Yet. But the moment his eyes started to droop, a voice blared from a nearby intercom: “Reminder: motion sensors have been temporarily enhanced in this sector due to recent… incidents. Please report any suspicious movement immediately.” Jason sighed, then shoved the rest of the granola bar into his mouth. “I swear to god, if I find out Tim set this up…”

Watchtower, Sector B1, Personnel Quarters Dick Grayson moved like a shadow, a very annoyed, gearless shadow. His crawlspace hiding spot had been compromised hours ago. And without his tools, he was flying blind in a nest full of superheroes and security systems. Damian had swiped everything from his little rooftop nook, even his emergency chocolate bar. The betrayal stung. "Never trust a ten-year-old with murder training," Dick muttered under his breath as he crept through a dim hallway, every motion smooth but fueled by pure desperation. His Nightwing suit, while flexible, was now a beacon without the signal disruptors. The sleek navy blue made him far too recognizable for someone trying to stay unseen. He needed a disguise. Fast. He turned a corner, and stopped. Room B1-04. The door was heavy, black, and marked only by a biometric scanner and a simple nameplate: RESTRICTED, ACCESS LEVEL 10 Most of the League assumed this room was storage or an unused system control station. But Dick had known the truth since his early Robin years. Batman’s quarters. He hesitated for exactly two seconds. Then: “Desperate times…” Dick bypassed the lock with a quick override Bruce had taught him back when trust between them wasn’t a limited resource, and slipped inside. The room was spartan. Clean. Every corner obsessively organized. A minimalistic bed, a locked trunk, and a closet lined with armor and utility gear. But no personal touches. No photos. No journals. Classic Bruce. Dick moved to the closet. His heart thudded in his ears as he flipped through the suits, mostly standard Bat-armor, backup units, and even one older prototype with an awkward yellow emblem. Finally, he found it: a slimmed-down, stealth-variant Batsuit. Jet black, lightweight. More flexible than the others, probably one Bruce wore for espionage operations. Perfect. Dick stripped off his Nightwing gear in record time and pulled the suit on. It clung to him like a second skin. The cowl, smaller than Bruce’s standard, fit well enough once he adjusted the chin plate. He looked into the darkened windowpane and smirked at the reflection: “Well. I guess I’m Batman now.” He paused. Then shook his head. “Nope. Not saying that out loud again.” Just as he secured the last piece of armor, he heard footsteps outside the hallway.

Dick didn’t expect to be stopped. That was the whole point of wearing the suit. But as soon as he turned the corner, he nearly ran straight into Green Arrow, Canary, and Martian Manhunter, all looking like they’d been mid-conversation until the second he appeared. “Batman,” Ollie said with a nod, stepping aside to let him pass. Dick managed a stiff nod back. “Arrow. Canary. J’onn.” He deepened his voice slightly, not a full growl (he wasn’t going to parody Bruce), but just enough to pass. It seemed to work. At least for a second. Until Green Arrow squinted. “You look… thinner than usual.” “I changed my diet.” Dinah tilted her head. “And you’re walking weird.” “My leg was injured in Gotham. Minor strain. Nothing worth filing.” Martian Manhunter stared. Hard. His glowing eyes narrowed like he was scanning something just off. Dick’s internal panic flared, was the suit giving him away? Heat signature? His height? He subtly adjusted his posture and folded his arms across his chest, classic Bruce. “If there’s nothing else, I need to return to my work.” Canary blinked. “We were going to brief you on the Star City gang forming. You skipped the last two meetings.” “I was busy,” Dick said, already turning to walk past them. “And I read the reports. Proceed without me.” He held his breath as he walked away, back rigid, cape swishing just enough to look dramatic. The moment he turned the next corner and was out of sight, he bolted into the next maintenance shaft like his life depended on it. Inside the vent, he slumped against the wall, yanked off the cowl, and exhaled. “Never again,” he muttered. “I need a double the cookies when i win. And therapy.”

[sylusonychinus]

Side Story: A Day in the Life of Prince

6:00 AM – Prince’s Royal Wake-Up Service The sun rises, casting its glow over my glorious kingdom. My Queen, the most loyal of subjects, is nestled beneath the blankets, blissfully unaware of the day’s duties.

But as the ruler of this domain, it is my sworn duty to ensure the Queen rises on time. With the precision of a ninja, I leap onto the bed and strategically position myself on her chest.

“Mrow,” I announce regally. Translation: Wake up, my loyal subject, for the day awaits.

She stirs, opening her eyes and smiling at me. “Good morning, Prince.”

I reward her with a gentle headbutt. She deserves it.

From beneath the covers, the spare human groans. “Why is he stepping on my stomach?”

Because it’s there, I think, stepping harder for good measure.

“Prince, let Zayne sleep,” the Queen giggles, stroking my fur.

I look at her, then at the lump of spare human beneath the blankets. My paw lands squarely on his face.

“I hate this cat,” he mutters.

7:00 AM – Breakfast Politics The Queen gracefully enters the kitchen, opening the cabinet that contains the royal feast. As she scoops my food into my bowl, I circle her feet like a shark, meowing dramatically for emphasis.

“Here you go, Prince,” she says, setting the bowl down with the reverence I deserve.

Meanwhile, Zayne trudges in, hair sticking up like a haystack. “Do I get breakfast, or is it just His Majesty?”

The Queen grins. “Prince first, obviously.”

Zayne glares at me as he pours himself a sad bowl of cereal. “One day, I’ll come first.”

I chew loudly, making eye contact the entire time.

10:00 AM – Zayne’s Attempt at Diplomacy The spare human approaches me with a suspiciously eager look. In his hand is a single cat treat.

“Alright, Prince,” he says, kneeling down like a peasant. “Let’s make a deal. You stop sitting on my laptop during work, and I’ll give you this treat.”

I blink slowly. Amateur move, spare human.

He shakes the treat enticingly. “Come on, take it.”

I lean in, sniffing dramatically, then turn my head away with a flick of my tail.

“Are you serious?” he says, exasperated.

From the couch, the Queen laughs. “He doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, Zayne.”

I leap onto her lap, where I am promptly showered with love. The spare human sulks.

1:00 PM – Supervised Work Hours As my Queen and the spare human sit at their desks, I take my rightful place sprawled across Zayne’s keyboard.

“Prince,” he says in that tone. “I’m working.”

I yawn in response.

“Can you just—” He tries to move me, but I dig my claws into the keys.

The Queen looks over, amused. “Just let him stay. He’s supervising.”

“Oh yeah, great supervision,” Zayne mutters as I knock over his coffee mug.

3:00 PM – Toy Chaos The Queen retrieves my beloved feather wand for playtime, and I spring into action, leaping with the grace of a jungle cat.

Not to be outdone, the spare human pulls out the laser pointer. “Let’s see how smart you really are, Prince.”

The red dot skitters across the floor. I glance at it, unimpressed, then sit down and start grooming myself.

Zayne sighs. “Figures.”

The Queen smirks. “Told you. He’s too sophisticated for lasers.”

Zayne grumbles something under his breath as I pounce on the feather wand with a triumphant chirp.

8:00 PM – Couch Wars: The Sequel It’s movie night, which means I claim the best spot on the couch—right in the center. The Queen settles beside me, stroking my fur.

Zayne stands there, holding a bowl of popcorn. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

I stretch out luxuriously, taking up even more space.

“You can sit on the floor,” the Queen teases.

Zayne sighs, squeezing himself into the tiny sliver of couch I’ve graciously left unoccupied.

As he reaches for the popcorn, I smack his hand.

“Did he just—”

“He’s enforcing snack tax,” the Queen says, laughing.

10:00 PM – The Great Bedtime Snuggle At night, I return to my throne—their bed—and take my rightful place in the center.

Zayne tries to nudge me over, but I refuse to budge.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a pain?” he asks, lying down on the edge of the mattress.

I respond by kneading his side. Consider this your bedtime massage, spare human.

The Queen strokes my fur, her voice soft. “Goodnight, Prince.”

As she drifts off, I glance at Zayne, who’s watching me with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he whispers.

I purr smugly. This is my kingdom, spare human. You’re just visiting.

a/n: for my dear @nezuswritingdesk who loves prince the cat :3

[in1-nutshell]

Can we please have some more IDW Ironhold? They are so angsty and I love them

Here's a bit of fluff for them before we introduce Megatron.

Hope you enjoy!

Ironhold: Slice of Life

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Alternative title: Ironhold’s rounds in the ship.

Rounds they do are basically things they do around the ship if someone pings them.

Round 1: Ratchet

Reason for ping?

To help him get some crates with medical supplies safely into the medbay.

All Ironhold needed to do was get 5 crates up to the medbay… from the lower decks…

Took multiple trips, but they soon managed to get all five crates in front of the medbay.

Ratchet helped open the door and get some of the crates.

Ironhold: “You sure you want to carry this Ratchet? It’s a bit heavy.”   Ratchet: “I think I’ll be fine.” Ratchet manages to get in a few steps before having to put it back on the ground. Ironhold: “…You okay—” Ratchet: “Just get the crates in the closet.” Ironhold nods and opens a random closet. Ironhold: “Any closet good?” Ratchet: “Yeah, yeah, any is good… now where did I put that…” Ironhold: “Okay, okay—wow. You got tons of welds, masks, Drift, spare joints, laser pointers—” They stop and look back at their friend crouching in the closet, trying his best to hide behind some other large boxes. Ironhold: “…” Drift: “…” Ironhold sighs a bit before gesturing Drift out. Ironhold: “I need space to put these in. Either get out and leave or help me and I’ll forget I saw you.” Drift: “Deal.”

Things got put away much faster with Drift helping.

They would have stayed for longer, but they had gotten another ping.

Saying goodbye to Ratchet and Drift, they sought out to their next location.

Round 2: Rewind

Reason for ping?

The minibot needed help getting some seats and the new batteries for the projector to Swerve’s for the upcoming movie night.

Swerve seemed to like hosting more and more of these movie nights under the claims that it was ‘good for morale’.

Rodimus gave it the green light despite Magnus trying to pester for proper paperwork for the new activity.

They had a feeling Magnus would have green lit the activity regardless.

He seemed to be in better spirits with the minibot since their little outing to that off world bar.

This was one of their easier loads to carry, just one go and that was it.

Ironhold walks into the bar with the box of batteries, seating cushions and Rewind on their shoulders. Rewind: “Thanks again for helping me out Ironhold.” Ironhold: “No problem, now, where do I put these?” Rewind pointed to a corner near a storage closet. Rewind: “Swerve to put the stuff here.” Ironhold walks over and sets down the box. Rewind nearly falls off but Ironhold quickly steadies him. Rewind: “That was close.” Ironhold: “Comes with practice.” Rewind: “Oh? Who did you have practice with?” Ironhold has flashbacks to dealing with Frenzy and Rumble climbing up and down their frame like Earth Squirrels before using duct tape to tape Frenzy to the wall. Rumble got tapped to their back on accident. They still don’t know how that happened though… Rewind: “I’m guessing with the humans you had to work with.” Ironhold snaps out of their trance. Ironhold: “Yeah. Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, where is Chromedome? You two are rarely too far from each other.” Rewind huffs. Rewind: “Long story.” Ironhold: “I got some time left. Tell away.”

It turned out that Chromedome had been spending more time with Brainstorm lately and that was why he wasn’t here.

Ironhold let the mini rant as much as he wanted to while fixing some of the batteries into the projector.

Rewind finished ranting just as they received another ping.

They carefully set him down, wished him the best with Chromedome, said goodbye and went off.

Round 3: Tailgate

Reason for ping?

To talk.

Ironhold didn’t have to go too far for this one.

Mainly because Tailgate was in the bar.

Apparently, he wanted to hear more about the war from different sides.

Why didn’t he want to talk to Rewind about it?

He was an archivist after all and had footage of things pre, during and post war.

But no, Tailgate insisted on talking with them.

They couldn’t resist the unfiltered happiness his field was expelling.

Ironhold tells him some stories from when they were a Con, something that catches him off guard.

They try their best to keep the stories as vague as possible.

Tailgate: “You’re really good friends with the captain.” Ironhold: “He was the first friend I made when I ended up defecting.” Tailgate: “How did you defect?” Iornhold: “… I was shot and left for dead and Optimus sought to fit to help me instead of ending me.” Tailgate: “Do you know who it was? Are they your arch nemesis? I know I heard Skids saying something about mortal enemies, was that dirty Con your enemy?” Ironhold stays silent for a minute. Tailgate deflates a bit. Tailgate: “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it I—” Ironhold: “No. No its okay. I just… It’s a bit hard to talk about the Con who left me for dead Tailgate. I’m honestly surprised that no one has told you about my story.” Tailgate: “I tried asking Cyclonus but he slammed to door in my face, probably having a bad day.” Ironhold scowls a bit. Ironhold: “If Cyclonus gives you any trouble, call me.”

Tailgate asks more lighthearted questions about themselves until the next ping.

Ironhold thanks Tailgate for the talk, once again telling him that if Cylocnus was giving him trouble to let them know.

Tailgate waved goodbye as they went to go to their next location… or should they say locations…

Round 4: Whirl

Reason for ping?

To get him a list of tools that would be needed to make a jail break.

They had a feeling where they would find the Ex-Wrecker and made a quick stop to their habsuite before going down to the brig.

Sure enough, Whirl was sitting in his cell waiting patiently.

Ironhold sighed as he demanded the tools.

They passed him some of them.

Whirl: “Hey what gives? Give me the rest!” Ironhold: “Whirl do you think I don’t know what these tools can do? Especially with some bot in a cell? You’re trying to escape.” Whirl mockingly bows. Whirl: “Guilty as charged. Now about the rest—” Ironhold: “You know I can’t just let you out, right?” Whirl: “Oh c’mon—” Ironhold: “But… maybe after you do something for me.” Whirl’s optic squints. Ironhold slips an old clock through the bars. Ironhold: “I understand you were a clock smith before the war. I’ve been trying to get this old thing to work for a couple months, and I think I might have made things worse.” Whirl carefully inspects the clock while giving them a suspicious look. Ironhold: “If you can fix it, I can make a call to Magnus about letting you off on good behavior.” They wait patiently for Whirl’s answer. Whirl: “…what have you put this thing through? A meatgrinder? Looks like some of your Con work is still showing.”

Whirl makes quips about their inaficancy of cleaning out things in the clock and twisting some of the metal.

Ironhold ignores it and just watches Whirl work, occasionally asking questions here and there.

As promised, they let Magnus know about Whirl’s early release based on good behavior.

Something they know they are going to hear from him later, but that was a future Ironhold problem.

Whirl gives them the clock and marches off, just in time for the next ping.

Final round: Rodimus

Reason for ping?

No instructions, but a hurried message to get to Swerve’s.

Ironhold nearly breaks down the door when Rodimus comes out.

They look over him for any injuries, there are none.

Before they can properly ask any questions, the mech drags them into the bar by their servo.

…He had called them to movie night…

Ironhold sighs in relief and frustration. Ironhold: “Rodimus you can’t call in an emergency for something that isn’t an emergency.” Rodimus: “But it was. You would have been late if I hadn’t got you here sooner. Now sit!” Rodimus pushes them back into a seat. Before they could get up, Rodimus already had his helm on their lap. Ironhold: “What makes you think I can’t just push you off?” Rodimus flashes a mischievous smile. Rodimus: “You won’t, you like me too much.” Ironhold grumbles before readjusting their seat to be more comfortable as more bots start sitting down nearby. They spot Rewind and Chromedome sitting together at one table, not to far from Cyclonus, Tailgate and Whirl. Drift and most of the medical staff entered in with Magnus a few minutes before the movie started. Rodimus stretched a bit more on their lap, occasionally tapping their leg. Ironhold let an arm drape over his chassis. Ironhold: “I can still push you off.” Rodimus without looking from the screen: “No you wouldn’t. No shh! Its starting.” Ironhold let a ghost of a smile form on their face as they turned their attention to the screen. It was a good day today.

[jujumin-translates]

[18TRIP] Ten Murakumo | [SR] Whimsical Parkour | How to Make Cats Dislike You

Characters: ☁️ Ten Murakumo, 🌕 Muneuji Kaguya

Location: Alleyway

Ten: Alright, that’s it for today’s “job”~.

Ten: (...I’m being followed again.)

Stray Cat: Mrow~!

Ten: Haah… Of course, it’s you. You really like me, don’tcha?

Stray Cat: Nuzzle, nuzzle.

Ten: No, not nuzzle nuzzle. Whatever, even if I tell you to stop, it’s not like you’ll understand.

Ten: Anyway, today—.

Ten: Hey. Pspspsps.

Stray Cat: ! Mrr, mrow.

Ten: (The cat locked right in on this laser pointer. Seems like the comments online were right about this being the best one.)

Ten: Alright, I’m out.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Entrance

Ten: (I just happened to see that stray cat on my way home one day, but since then it seems like it’s taken a liking to me…) Muneuji: Oh, Murakumo-san. Welcome back.

Ten: I’m back~. Did you just get home too, Muneuji?

Muneuji: Yes. The student council meeting ran a bit longer than usual.

Ten: Mhm, gotcha. It’s rough being a student, isn’t it? Okay, cool, I’ve got a thing, so—.

Muneuji: Wait.

Ten: …Yeah?

Muneuji: Murakumo-san. There’s something wrong with your clothes.

Ten: Huh?

Muneuji: You’ve got fur all over your body. I have a cleaner that I use for my uniforms that you can use.

Ten: Ahh… Thanks. Must’ve been from that cat I ran into earlier.

Ten: (I was gonna have these clothes cleaned just in case anyway, so it’s not like I really need it, though.)

Muneuji: I see. Playing with a cat to the point where your clothes are like that… You must really like cats, Murakumo-san.

Ten: Ah. No…

Muneuji: I’ve heard that living life with cats is a constant battle against shedding fur. Shouldn’t you have tools like that on hand, Murakumo-san?

Ten: Hmm, you’d think, but no.

Muneuji: Then I’ll lend that cleaner to you for a while, Murakumo-san. I’m sure you don’t want to be covered in fur again.

Ten: Umm…

Muneuji: You can give it back to me whenever you’d like. Excuse me.

Ten: … Now what? Rumor’s gonna spread that I’m an animal lover or something.

Ten: Liguang-san… I don’t think he’d ask me to take care of his rabbits, but it’d be a pain in the ass if Prez appointed me as a walker for Shumai.

Ten: Guess I’m gonna have to do something about that cat… Before that happens.

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Location: HAMA House - Tiger Room

Ten: (Well, I guess I could look up how to make cats dislike you, but… I’m feeling lazy.)

Renga: Working on an assignment for college, Ten? It must be tough having to work so late.

Ten: Ah, Renga-san.

Ten: (...Got it.)

Ten: Yeah. But I’ve really been struggling to make any progress. If only there was someone willing to help me.

Renga: …! I-I could help if you want me to.

Ten: Aww, thanks. You’re sooo nice, Renga-san.

Renga: Well… T-That’s ‘cause… We’re, y’know.

Ten: Having friends really is great after all.

Renga: ! Ahem, ahem. Right, because we’re friends! 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: A Certain Park

Ten: So, I tried all those different ways to make cats dislike you that Renga-san researched for me yesterday, but…

Stray Cat: ♪

Ten: You sure are happy to have your claws trimmed, be bathed, and petted all over your body, huh~.

Ten: (Wait, is this just you trying to be cute…?)

Ten: Hmm, what else was there… “Cats don’t like being picked up suddenly” …Really?

Ten: Well, I guess I’ll give it a shot. …Here we go.

Stray Cat: Meow! Mrrow ♪

Ten: Hey, don’t take off my mask. Your fur tickles…

Muneuji: …You two sure are close.

Ten: !

Muneuji: My apologies. I didn’t mean to spy on you. I just happened to be walking by on my way back from school.

Muneuji: But I’m sure that… Your love is being fully conveyed to that cat, Murakumo-san.

Ten: Ahh, Muneuji. I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here, so if you’ll just lemme explain a bit…

Muneuji: Misunderstanding… Explain…

Muneuji: Hah. Does this mean that your love for cats is much deeper than I thought, Murakumo-san?

Ten: What makes you think that?

Muneuji: My deepest apologies. Then could you tell me more about it on the way back to the dorms?

Stray Cat: Meow!

Ten: …Is this what they call being screwed…?

[arsenysworld]

The Drunk Love Confession

Britta Perry x Male Reader

It was another typical night at Greendale Community College, or at least that’s how Y/N liked to think of it. He sat on the couch in his dorm room, textbooks spread out around him. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above was the only sound as he scribbled down notes, trying to stay focused on his homework.

The door to his room suddenly flew open with an unexpected force. Y/N’s head whipped up in surprise, his eyes wide. He hadn’t been expecting company, and certainly not company like this.

There stood Britta, leaning heavily against the doorframe with a ridiculously wide grin plastered across her face. Her usually well-maintained appearance was a mess—her hair was a little more disheveled than usual, and her eyes were unfocused, barely staying open.

Britta: (slurring slightly) “Y/N!”

She stumbled into the room, one hand gripping the doorframe like it might hold her up. The other hand was waving around dramatically as if she were on a stage performing some kind of love monologue.

Y/N: (confused, standing up) “Britta? Are you okay? What... what’s going on?”

Britta looked at him for a long moment, blinking as if she were trying to focus. Then her face lit up, and she suddenly flung herself toward him with surprising speed, her arms wide.

Britta: (grinning drunkenly) “I FREAKING LOVE YOU, Y/N! Like, a whole freakin' lot! You don't even know...”

Y/N's eyes widened as Britta's declaration hit him like a ton of bricks. He stood there frozen, unsure whether he should catch her or step back. Her words were definitely not the ones he was expecting.

Y/N: (stammering) “Uh... Britta, what... what are you talking about? You’re... you’re drunk.”

Britta: (laughing, leaning on him) “Yeah, but like... in the best way! I’m not drunk-drunk. I’m love-drunk. You know, like... love drunk, Y/N.” (she giggles) “I can totally say this when I’m like this. It’s like... allowed.”

Y/N opened his mouth to respond, but before he could form a coherent sentence, Britta suddenly closed the distance between them and kissed him. It was a wild, sloppy, and unexpected kiss—her lips pressing hard against his as if she had been waiting forever to do it.

Y/N’s brain went completely blank as he stood there, the whole situation spinning in his head. What was happening? Was this real? Did he just get kissed by a very drunk Britta? He wasn’t sure, but he was definitely certain of one thing—he needed to hold onto her so she didn’t fall over.

After what felt like an eternity, Britta pulled back, swaying slightly as she looked at him, her face now glowing with drunken sincerity.

Britta: (tearing up a little) “Y/N, you don’t even know... how much I love you. I love you soooo much. Like, I love you more than... than... a bunch of stuff. I love you like... like... like a cactus loves water! Wait, no. That’s not right. I love you like... like a cat loves a laser pointer! Oh my God, that’s what it is. I love you like a cat loves a laser pointer! You’re my laser pointer.”

Y/N blinked, staring at her. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or ask for clarification, but he knew one thing for sure—this was very different from the usual Britta.

Y/N: (scratching his head, confused) “Wait, what... I don’t understand. A laser pointer? Britta, are you okay? I mean, you're saying all this... but you’re clearly—”

Britta: (cutting him off, dramatically swaying) “No, no, NO. You don’t get it. I’m NOT okay, Y/N. I’m... I’m LOVE okay. That’s why I’m telling you all this.” (she gestures wildly around) “Like, I can’t keep it in any longer. You’re my everything. You’re... like... my reason for living. Like my wifi... when it’s working, I feel alive. But when it's not? I’m just dead inside.”

Y/N's face was a mixture of confusion and amusement. He had never seen Britta quite like this before. He was used to her being fiery, sarcastic, and always a little unpredictable, but this... this was next-level Britta.

Y/N: (laughing nervously) “Okay... uh, well, I don’t think your love for me is the same as your love for Wi-Fi, Britta...”

Britta: (nodding with exaggerated seriousness) “It’s pretty close, though. And honestly, if you were Wi-Fi, I’d never lose connection. You’d be the strongest signal... with zero buffering...”

She raised both hands in the air like she was delivering an award-winning speech, and Y/N couldn't help but smile at her ridiculousness. Even drunk, Britta had a way of making everything feel... special? Weirdly romantic?

Y/N: (playfully) “So, uh... you love me like Wi-Fi, huh? Does that mean... I have to keep reconnecting every time you lose signal?”

Britta: (pointing at him dramatically) “YES! Exactly! That’s... exactly it! You get me, Y/N. You really get me.”

Britta gave him an exaggerated wink and then stumbled a bit, her balance clearly off as she tried to stand still. Y/N quickly moved to catch her, and she wrapped her arms around him for support. She giggled softly as she nestled her head against his chest, her breath warm against his shirt.

Britta: “You’re my best friend, Y/N. And, like, I didn’t even know I needed someone like you, but now... I need you like... like I need pizza after a bad day. Which is... a lot. That’s how much I need you.”

Y/N smiled at that. Despite the overwhelming nature of the situation, Britta’s ramblings made his heart swell. He had always known that Britta had a big heart, but seeing her in this vulnerable, goofy state made him realize just how deeply she cared for him.

Y/N: (grinning) “Well, I’m glad I’m like pizza to you. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be pizza?”

Britta: (nodding seriously) “Exactly! I love pizza... and I love you. Like, a lot. So, you know... you should kiss me again. So, I can... I can remember it forever. Because this is a moment. This is history, Y/N. We’re making history.”

Y/N laughed at the absurdity of it all, his nerves calming as he realized how genuine Britta was—even in her very drunken state. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her gently, trying to be careful with how drunk she was. When they pulled away, Britta had the most satisfied look on her face, as though she had just won an Olympic gold medal.

Britta: (sighing dreamily) “That was... perfect. Perfect like... well, like... you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at her words, and despite how ridiculous the situation was, he realized that this was one of those moments that would be hard to forget. Britta, in her own way, had just given him the most unexpected and hilarious love confession.

As Britta sighed contentedly in his arms, Y/N found himself struggling to keep a straight face. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh at how absurd this situation was or cry because he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just drunk Britta rambling. There was something deeper there.

Britta shifted in his arms, still giggling softly, and Y/N did his best to keep her steady.

Britta: (dreamily) "You know, Y/N... I think I might be the luckiest person in the world. I mean, I love you like... like peanut butter loves jelly, like cereal loves milk... like a plant loves sunlight. You're like... my oxygen, you know?"

Y/N blinked, trying to keep track of her metaphors. He hadn’t heard that one before.

Y/N: (chuckling) "Oxygen, huh? That’s... a pretty big deal, Britta. You sure you’re not confusing me with something else? Like... an air conditioner or something?"

Britta looked up at him with the most intense gaze she could muster, though it was slightly unfocused. She reached up and tapped his nose with her finger.

Britta: (seriously) "No, no, Y/N. You’re my everything. You’re... the Wi-Fi of my heart. The plug to my charger. You make me feel... full. Like... I’m complete. And you just don’t even know how much I love you."

Y/N’s heart was doing backflips. It was the kind of thing that only Britta could say—slightly nonsensical, totally out of the blue, and yet, somehow, incredibly heartfelt. Still, he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the whole thing.

Y/N: (laughing) "Okay, okay. So I’m the plug to your charger and Wi-Fi for your heart... that’s... honestly, kind of adorable."

Britta grinned mischievously, swaying slightly as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the couch.

Britta: "I’m glad you think so. Because, uh, I’m definitely not done yet." (she looks around) "I’m gonna sit down. My legs are like... noodles. Not the kind you eat. The kind that can’t hold up a person. You get me?"

Y/N: (raising an eyebrow) "Uh... I think so? Like... noodle legs, yeah."

Britta plopped down on the couch with an exaggerated flop, her arms dramatically flailing. Y/N sat next to her, still keeping his distance—he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with a Britta who was this drunk but also kind of adorable.

Britta: (mumbling) "You’re so cute when you don’t know what to do with me... I love it. You’re like... I don’t know, a puppy that’s not sure if it should bark or not. Like... a confused puppy."

Y/N felt his cheeks warm at her comment. Britta had this way of making him feel both awkward and special at the same time. He shifted on the couch, trying to focus on her rather than how confused he was.

Y/N: (smiling nervously) "So, uh... does this mean you’re still in love with me, or is this just the alcohol talking?"

Britta squinted at him like he had just asked the most obvious question in the world.

Britta: (snapping her fingers) "You really don’t get it, do you? It’s not the alcohol, Y/N. It’s the truth." (pauses) "Maybe it’s both... but mostly it’s the truth. I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but, you know... I’m Britta. I overthink everything. I’m an emotional disaster who can’t communicate properly—"

Y/N: (interrupting) "I think you’re doing just fine right now."

Britta: (nodding seriously) "See? That’s what I’m talking about. You’re... like... my personal therapist and my best friend and my... my wifi connection. God, I’m so lucky I found you. I... I’ve never felt so safe with anyone before. Like, you’re the person I want to... do everything with. You get me, even when I’m a mess. I don’t deserve you, but here you are, being all perfect and nerdy, and I... I just want to kiss you all the time now."

Y/N blinked. He wasn’t sure if it was the random metaphors or the straight-up honesty that was making his head spin. Or maybe it was just Britta’s drunken sincerity that was getting to him. Either way, he felt his stomach flip in a good way.

Y/N: (softly) "Britta, I... I don’t know what to say."

Britta: (gently grabbing his hand) "You don’t have to say anything. Just... know that I really mean it. And... if you want to kiss me again, that’s cool too. Because I’d be totally down for that."

Without another word, Britta leaned toward him, her lips searching for his in that familiar, messy way she did when she was half-sober and full of emotion. Y/N, still a little stunned, met her halfway, their lips connecting in a sweet, slightly clumsy kiss. It was nothing like the first, which had been wild and chaotic. This one was softer, more intimate, as if the drunken haze had shifted to something deeper.

When they broke apart, Britta stared at him with a goofy grin on her face, as though she’d just won a gold medal in a kissing competition.

Britta: (grinning) "See? Not so hard, right? That was... perfect."

Y/N: (laughing) "I think that was the best kiss I’ve ever had... even if it’s totally out of nowhere."

Britta: (laughing, leaning into him) "Good. Because you’ve got so much more where that came from."

Y/N smiled at her, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. Maybe Britta wasn’t perfect in the traditional sense—she was wild, unpredictable, and had a strange way of expressing herself—but in that moment, with her leaning against him and telling him she loved him, he couldn’t help but feel like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

As Britta began to nod off against his shoulder, her head lolling to the side, Y/N sighed contentedly, running a hand through her hair. He wasn’t sure if she would remember any of this in the morning—or if she’d just blame it on being drunk—but it didn’t matter. He’d take whatever version of Britta he could get, especially when she was this honest with him, even in her slightly tipsy state.

Y/N: (whispering to himself) "You’re my laser pointer, huh?"

He smiled, shaking his head. Yeah, things were definitely different with Britta, but that was what made it so great.

@jacenradio7 @fandomnerd9602 @6rookie-writer0110 @amphibiahawks321 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @troynabed I hope you vibe with it

[www-jungwon]

between the lines . yjw

[fall_ing for the cute guy who works at the bookstore]

pairing ! jungwon x bookworm!gn!reader

1/7 of elena’s autumn enhypen series !

genre ! strangers to lovers, bookstore trope, mainly just fluff

summary ! the love story between you, a bookworm, and jungwon, the cashier at your local bookstore. (it starts with a book recommendation)

tw ! mentions of drinks (coffee), addictions (only to caffeine), money, jungwon actually being the cutest thing ever

wc ! 3k

ft. coworker heeseung

୨♡୧

the guy behind the desk is unfairly pretty. he must be new; you’ve never seen him working at the bookstore before and you definitely would’ve remembered the way the autumn light highlights the details of his face, teeth sliding over his plump lower lip. his elbow rests on the wooden desk, silver cash register gleaming to the right. he leans his chin on his fist, head tilted forward interestedly as he reads his book on the desk. you watch him flip the page, delicately resting his fingers on the side with less pages to hold it open. he reads something that makes him smile softly, eyes round and innocent, and you wonder how someone can look so ethereal just reading a book.

turning back to the new releases shelf with your heart racing slightly, you scan the rows of books. this past month has been one of the worst months of new releases you’ve seen since you started coming to this bookstore. against your will, your hand hovers over the shelf, sliding off a romance book. you can’t talk to him without a book, right? that would be weird. you pretend to read the back even though you already did when you came here last week, eyes retracing the same dull words. you drag your thumb over the paperback cover, sneaking a glance at the desk again.

he’s talking to a customer now, smile soft and easy on his lips as he hands them their book.

you swallow, trying to look away as he opens his book again, the customer leaving out the windowed door. he settles back into the same position with his chin resting in his fist, following the words like a cat chasing a laser pointer, eyes big and focused in a way that makes you want to scream into your hand. taking a deep breath, you walk over to the desk, weaving through the large number of people squeezed into the bookstore and gently place the book onto the counter in front of him.

he looks up, eyebrows raising naturally and you try not to smile at how cute he looks. 

“oh, sorry, would you like to buy this?”

“yes, please,” 

he nods, sliding the book over the scanner and your eyes fall onto his nametag. jungwon, it reads, handwritten letters traced on. it matches him, you decide, the way he writes, the way the script slants to the left and how the thin lines that indicated the way he didn’t pick up his pen drag between the letters.

“is that everything for you today?”

you startle out of your thoughts slightly, “oh, um, yes, thank you.”

“it’s, um, a good choice.”

“sorry?”

“it’s a good choice.” he nods at the book. “i liked that one.”

“oh,” you say, “oh, um, really?” it’s confusing, the way he makes your thoughts mix, in thrall of him, but it’s also the most lovely feeling you’ve ever experienced.

his smile envelopes you in softness. “yeah, it was really good. i liked the character dynamic and…yeah.”

the back of the book described the main character to sound stupid and unlikable, but you nod anyway.

leaving the store with your unwanted purchase, you step into the fall-kissed street, swipes of red and orange littering the tops of the trees. as a leaf falls through your view, softly swaying from side to side in the breeze, you think of him, a smile falling onto your lips almost involuntarily, except you want to smile, thinking of him.

୨♡୧

you didn’t read the book. in fact, you came back to return the book, which was bought under duress. sure, the duress happened to be wanting an excuse to talk to the prettiest person you’ve ever seen, but duress is duress, right? it’s not until you see the aforementioned pretty cashier from last time that you realize it’s a thursday. his shift day. this is not good. 

“oh, um, hi again,” he smiles.

your eyes flick down to your book bag, which is holding the book. the one he liked. the one he said was a good choice.

“hi,” you smile.

“did….did you like the book?”

“oh, uh, yeah, i- i did. i really liked it. the character dynamic was really good, like you said.” 

you hear a snicker, gaze shifting over to his coworker, who grins at jungwon teasingly and then turns to look at you.

“sorry, just ignore me.”

jungwon’s gaze snaps over to him, glaring.

“heeseung, don’t you have to go restock one of the fantasy shelves?” he narrows his eyes.

you and heeseung look back at the fantasy section simultaneously, which is completely full.

heeseung laughs, furrowing his brow in fake concern,“definitely, yeah, no, totally. i mean, how could i forget? gotta restock the fantasy shelves because they’re so empty.” he strolls off to the shelves, grinning at you as he leaves.

“um, sorry about him, so, how can i help you?”

you open your mouth, and your lips stay parted for a few seconds as you realize you don’t need help with anything.

“oh, uh…could you give me a recommendation?” 

“sure! so,” he pauses, blinking. “you liked that book?”

“um, yeah, i- did,”

he pauses, thinking about something.

“well, the author has written a lot of other books that are kind of similar-”

absolutely not. “oh, i was looking for something a little different, just because i’ve kind of been reading a lot of books like that recently.”

“well, in that case, this is my favorite book, which i recommend to everyone, but it’s almost incomparable to that, uh, book.” 

“oh, that’s totally fine. how much is it?”

he opens his mouth, then pauses. “oh, uh, we’re- we’re actually sold out…but you can have my copy…”

he holds out a worn paperback to you, golden lines stretching over the cover. 

“sorry, i know it's kind of old..it’s okay if you don’t want it, but i thought i would offer it to you. we’re getting another shipment next week.”

“oh, i can’t take your copy, that’s-thats yours-”

“no, it’s totally fine, i have other editions, but this one i was just rereading at work, ‘cause i like to read my notes.”

great. so he’s smart and pretty. not a big deal or anything.

his fingers fidget with the pages as he pushes it closer to you.

heeseung walks back behind the desk at that moment, freezing when he sees the book on the countertop.

“jungwon?” he asks, tone incredulous.

“what?” jungwon sighs.

“is that- your copy?”

“obviously?” he raises his eyebrows exasperatedly. 

heeseung gapes, laughing slightly in shock, gaze sliding over to you. you shrink slightly in embarrassment, although you’re not sure of what.

“go. away.” jungwon hisses.

“what do you want me to do, restock the sci-fi section?” he grins, and you glance back at the sci-fi section, packed full of people.

“shut up,” jungwon slides his hand over his face and heeseung holds his hands up, turning and going into the back of the store.

“sorry about him. again.” jungwon slides the book towards you again.

“oh, i-” you hesitate, knowing how sacred your own books are to you, but your fingers close around the edges. “thanks, i’ll- when do you want it back?”

“oh, you can just bring it back whenever.”

you smile, and it isn't until you’re long out of the store that you realize he remembered you, out of the huge crowd of people from last time and the specific book you bought. and that today was the last day for returns, so you just wasted 10 dollars. but talking to jungwon is worth it, to you.

୨♡୧

you haven’t stopped thinking about his book the entire week, or him.

you watch him blow hair out of his eyes, lower lip folding over the upper one. he curls his fingers into his cheek, chin resting in his palm as he serenely reads another book on the counter. 

you read his book in one sitting, curled into your couch for three hours as you pored over his little annotations, thoughtful notes penned into the margins in his perfectly messy handwriting. there was something so personal about seeing his notes on his favorite book, like a piece of his soul, and they make you want to protect him with your whole being. they were so intelligent, your mind keeps drifting back to your first encounter, imprinted in your brain.

 “i liked the character dynamic and….yeah.”

odd, for someone who wrote about the symbolism of the wind in specific contexts for each chapter and small hints of foreshadowing that built throughout the novel, but maybe it’s harder for him to say his thoughts then write them.

you set the book down on his counter, watching the way he blinks cutely in surprise as he looks up, being taken out of his book.

“oh, hi,”

you smile, “i brought your book back,”

his eyes widen in excitement, although he tries to mask it, “did you like it?”

you take a deep breath, the power of the book consuming you. “i need a moment.”

he laughs at your dramatics, putting his chin back into his hand so he’s looking through his lashes at you. 

“you liked it, then?”

you nod wordlessly, watching his eyes light up.

“oh my god. finally. i’ve been trying to get my friends to read it forever but they won’t because it’s so long. it's so good, right?”

you laugh at his excitement, something about it seeming so precious, “i read it in one sitting.” 

he grins. “me, too, the first time i read it.”

you rest your hands on the counter, becoming enraptured by your conversation, ranting over your shared opinions and the absolute crime it was for the author to kill off that one character. you’re not sure how you end up sitting behind the counter next to him, talking in between him checking out customers’ books.

he laughs at your sarcasm over details of the book, grinning so cutely when you become passionate about the decisions of certain characters, and you watch the way his eyes light up when he talks about the genius moves of the author. at some point the conversation shifts, and you talk about everything. your hobbies (aside from reading of course), how autumn is both of your favorite seasons, why the author absolutely needs to release the sequel sooner than the scheduled date, and you’re so swept away by the conversation that you don’t notice the time. 

you’re not sure how long you’ve spent talking to him when you leave, the sky having dimmed into the glow of dusk. 

୨♡୧

you step into the bookstore, eyes landing on jungwon sitting at the counter, watching as he flips through a book again, looking up at the sound of the door clicking behind you. he makes eye contact, catching you staring at him and you turn away quickly, hiding behind the new releases shelf again. you don’t actually have any books you want to buy, you’re really not sure why you even came to the bookstore today. you definitely didn’t go out of your way to make sure you could go on a thursday, his shift day, and you’re only holding the coffee that he mentioned he wanted to try last week because you were going to the coffee shop anyway. but now that you’re in the bookstore, you can’t even get a book off the shelf because you’ve got both hands holding coffees, so you shyly step around the shelves, walking over to the counter.

“i was, um, i was gonna get a book- well, i brought you coffee, and now i can’t get a book because, my hands are, um, full,” you set down his coffee on the desk.

he gasps, “pumpkin spice latte! you remembered!” he looks up at you, eyes big and innocent and precious. “i have a gift for you, too,” he pulls out a new copy of his (and your newly) favorite book from under the desk, “we got the restock, and they tend to sell out pretty fast, so i saved you a copy.”

you blink, “oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you reach for your bag.

“oh, i- um, already paid for it.” he pushes the book towards you and you look at him incredulously.

“let me pay you back!”

“no, it’s okay, you bought me coffee,”

you shake your head at him resignedly, watching his softly cheeky grin expand. “now i have to buy you coffee, like, every day, though,”

“i mean, it’s only actually worth, like, two coffees-”

“books are worth ten coffees, especially books that someone saves you when he thinks they might sell out, those are worth at least twenty.”

he grins at you, “it’s okay, i promise! you’re going to get me addicted to caffeine,”

“how are you not already?”

୨♡୧

you stretch up to the top of the shelf, fingers grasping at the book, but you can’t pull it off, letting your hand drop to your side as you lean back onto the ground off your toes.

you feel a warm arm wrapping around your waist, fingers tightening into your hip securely, causing you to fall back into the figure behind you in surprise. you look up to see an arm effortlessly sliding a book off the highest shelf. your book. you turn around, gaze falling on the nametag in front of you, and it’s jungwon, the one handing you the book. he smiles shyly.

“hi,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing slightly.

you swallow, “hi,” you say, breathless. his face is so close to yours you can feel his breath falling over your lips.

 his arm slips off your waist like an afterthought, his proximity lingering on your mind the rest of the week.

୨♡୧

“you weren’t, um, here last week,” he closes his book softly, your eyes drifting distractedly to his fingers slipping off the edge of the cover.

“oh, um…” you snap back to him, “oh, yeah, i was sick,” you had tried to go but you literally couldn’t get out of bed, and when your friend came over she looked at you like you were crazy when you said that you wanted to go to the bookstore, insisting that you were much sicker than you actually were because there was no way you in your right mind you would want to go to the bookstore while ill.

recently you can't be sure whether you're even coming to the bookstore for books anymore.

he nods at you. “well, i’m glad you’re feeling better now.”

you nod, “thanks, it was kind of a rough week.”

he nods, swallowing and then looks down at the counter. he fidgets with his book, running his finger over the edge of the pages. “i, um, i was wondering-” he looks back up at you, licking his lips. 

“god, finally!” 

you jump slightly, looking over at heeseung. “i’ve been waiting for this moment this whole month. it was so annoying, hearing him go on about you every single shift. and last week he was so worried-”

“heeseung!” jungwon hisses.

“wha-oh,” heeseung says, seeing your confused expression. “sorry, i only heard the first part of your sentence and got excited. go on,”

jungwon glares at him until he leaves, slipping into a crowd of customers.

“um, what were you gonna say?” you ask.

“oh, um, i was wondering,” he pauses, “i mean- i actually really hated that book.”

“what?” you squint slightly in confusion.

“the romance one. when you first came in, i just wanted to talk to you. i really hated the character dynamic, but for some reason it was the first thing i could think of to compliment” he blurts, “and- and heeseung was making fun of me for giving my book to you, because i guard it with my life, i won’t even let him touch it, and i- i just gave it to you, which is kind of crazy, i’d only talked to you once before but i memorized your eyes and your smile and then i just gave it to you, and i think you’re really pretty and i really, i’ve really enjoyed our conversations? and i was, wondering if you- if you maybe wanted to go out with me? maybe to a cafe? or something?”

butterflies rush into your stomach, warmth enveloping you comfortingly.

“i would love to,”

he smiles, wide and genuine, and you melt, drowning in him, in the eyes of the pretty guy behind the desk.

end. 

୨♡୧

a/n ! OMGGGG i stayed up late so many nights to write this and now i'm sleep deprived so if no one reads this i will shed actual tears also i think im in love with bookstore trope jungwon/this readerwon dynamic 😭😭😭😭

this fic is part of my enhypen autumn collection ! send an ask or comment to be added to the taglist <3

taglist :

@mrchweeee @aureliaxuuu @miyseung

[luxury-nightmare]

mom says it’s my turn on the writing

Alex had an idea. It was a bad idea on most levels, but it was a funny, so they decided to go through with it. They had picked up a laser pointer from a nearby drugstore, and were just about to head home.

Worst case scenario, they die at the hands of the worlds weirdest roommate. Clyde would sometimes act like a big cat, scratching up Alex’s furniture, purring very loudly whenever it was happy with something, and that one time that Alex missed work because Clyde decided that it wanted to lay on top of them to sleep.

So, Hypothetically, if they used the laser pointer, Clyde might chase it around like the world’s deadliest house cat.

They needed to see if this worked, for science of course.

Also because it would be really funny.

The closed the door behind them, Clyde flopped over on the couch like a murder victim. The demon looked over at Alex, before stretching and readjusting on the couch. Alex sat down next to the demon and rummaged through their pockets for the laser pointer.

“Human what are you doing?” Clyde asked, looking up at Alex as they fished the laser pointer out of their pockets. “Just testing something” they said, and turned on the laser pointer.

Alex looked over at Clyde, its eyes visibly dilated. It pounced onto the red spot, tail wagging like a cat. Alex stifled a giggle and moved the laser spot across the floor. Clyde sprinted behind the trail.

Alex chuckled. This was going to be a fun afternoon.

———————————————

“Human, what the fuck”

Clyde looked over at Alex, who was poorly hiding a laugh. The living room was a mess, with overturned stacks of books and knocked over furniture littering the floor. The red dot was nowhere to be found.

Alex didn’t even really care that their home looked like a tornado had ran through it, watching Clyde chase around a laser pointer like a cat had been worth it.

“Human why?” Clyde asked. Alex smiled.

“It was really funny”

———————————————

Clara had been digging around in the boxes Alex sent her. They couldn’t really go back to their old life, so they gave what little they had on them to her so she could start over. She needed to work on a new life after the asylum ripped her away from her old one. She was incredibly grateful to them for this, lord knows she needed any help she could get after getting out of that hellhole.

Something cold and metallic brushed past her fingers. She grasped the object, pulling the metal cylinder from the layers of clothes. She pulled a laser pointer out from the box and looked at it with a puzzled expression.

“Hey, Alex?” She asked. “Yeah?” Alex responded. They were trying to learn how to imitate their old voice. It was off enough to be noticeable, but close enough you could still recognize it. The velidgun turned to her with curiosity. “Why do you have a laser pointer?”

“Oh yeah” Alex responded, every eye they had looking at the laser pointer with fondness “I bought it at a drugstore back before I got kicked out. I wanted to see if Clyde would chase it.”

“And?”

“It did” they giggled at the memory “the house was a wreck after but it was funny as hell”.

Clara looked down at the laser pointer with curiosity. She had an idea, but wasn’t sure if she should follow through.

“Fuck it” she whispered to herself. “What did you say?” Alex asked, before cutting themself off the stare at the red dot now emitting from the laser pointer. Their tail wagged like a happy dog, and they pounced on the dot. Clara moved it across the floor, with Alex following it like a cat. Clara couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she moved the dot again.

Oh dear lord she knew what they meant by it being funny.

———————————————

Clyde snicked “not so funny to be on the other side of it, is it”

Alex looked at their partner with bitterness from the broken table they had crashed into “Shut up”

[allwormdiet]

Agitation 3.11

The problems involving this motherfucking bank are no longer limited to the exterior of said motherfucking bank

It has to be fucking alarming for your power to stop working for you when you're so used to it as a part of yourself. Can't even imagine.

God the tension here is good. Amy's not much of a fighter, sure, not even compared to Taylor, but Taylor's making her feel like she's dying rn

Do people really paint Amy as some kind of suffering angel? Like I get that she's suffered, sure, she's a parahuman and the least-favorite child of New Wave and yadda yadda, but she's fucking mean. And honestly between her and her sister I get the impression that New Wave is uhh, not too big on treating criminals like they have human rights? Which isn't at all concerning when one of them is a lawyer.

...Man how do I get worse vibes off of New Wave than the Protectorate, I'm basically never on the side of government superheroes

You can't fool me Victoria Dallon, I know you practiced that landing

Also Jesus that's a lot of damage, couldn't you have just gone through one of the windows that broke already? Kid Win made that hole for nothing.

I know Amy doesn't do this (yet) but the fact that this is the first thing she threatens to do to a villain with a knife to her throat is fucking insane

Are the Dallons actually trained in hostage negotiation and conflict de-escalation? I hope they're not because otherwise I'd have a lot of really pressing and mean questions for their trainers

Also fucked up that Amy's threats involve destroying Taylor's sense of taste, giving her fatal diseases, or *checks notes* making her really really fat, what the hell girl

Hey Tattletale, love you Tattletale, please for the love of god be careful Tattletale

So people have written Tattletale and Glory Girl punching each other with their lips, right? If I'm picking up on some kismesis vibes there's no way other people haven't picked up kismesis vibes

(Sit. Stay. Good girl. Oh my god.)

Interesting that Tattletale seems willing to call Amy's bluff here, though I'm not sure how safe that is

Tattletale: you should know better than to make me monologue about something that'll help you

Glory Girl: yeah I know

Tattletale: but I'm gonna answer your question anyhow

Glory Girl:

Victoria continues to be a huge fucking nerd

Tattletale continues to be outrageously smug and also, tbh, isn't entirely wrong about the expectations of superpowers. She's lying like a rug of course but how should they know that?

Clever! And fucked up. And remarkably powerful on Amy's part, like holy shit. As if the cancer threat wasn't bad enough.

And all the while Tattletale is fucking up Panacea's play with nothing but a laser pointer, with GG too distracted by proving her wrong to realize it

Victoria what the fuck

I'm gonna try to be generous and chalk this up to being written in 2011, but hollllly shit this doesn't reflect well on the character or author

Current Thoughts

Okay so I'm not gonna dwell on the slur, much as I'd love to, let's just leave that one on the side

I find it fascinating that GG considers New Wave immune to the threat of dirty secrets, especially the part about "full transparency." We just saw her nearly kill a suspect on accident and then guilt trip Panacea into healing her to prevent a black mark on the team's record. Like maybe she theoretically believes that stuff as long as she doesn't think too hard about it, but this is absolutely hypocrisy on her part

Victoria and Amy both are just. Really showing their best selves in this arc. I'm not going to act like they're both monsters, they're not. As previously mentioned, they're teenagers in an extremely high-stress situation. Amy's got a knife to her throat and Victoria is extremely protective of her sister and they're facing down two relatively unknown villains on their own

...which I think just points more to the fact that they shouldn't be in this situation to begin with. Amy obviously didn't have much say about whether she'd be a hostage but she definitely didn't have to pick a fight with the villains who had lethally venomous spiders on all the hostages. Victoria, on the other hand, absolutely did not think about what she was doing before doing it, and punched a hole in the roof of what's probably an expensive-ass building in the doing. Is she gonna pay for that? Her millionaire boyfriend?

Next time: Tattletale proves she's the most dangerous Undersider, and nobody regrets this at all

[safetycar-restart]

(Thank you for answering my little!arthur ask ❤️)

My next brain rot is cat!max.

We’ve spoken a lot about how his relationship with his domme is an act of repairing the rough relationship he had/s with his Dad. So, I’ve been thinking of playing with cat!max using toys. Essentially just allowing him to be a playful kitten, which he couldn’t do when he was younger.

Something tells me that when he becomes comfortable he can be excitable. I think that either chasing a laser or playing with a ball is one his favourite because then he can play with his domme(/owner?) at the same time.

Like, the image of playing with Max using the laser is so sweet to me because he knows that his domme won’t judge him for trying to catch it and maybe his domme secretly makes it easy occasionally to that she/he/they can reward him? Or, dangling a feather in front of him whilst he’s in our lap?

The whole idea of letting Maxie do everything he couldn’t do it so lovely to me

-🎞️

The last line of this ask really sums it up for me. That's everything I love about cat!max in the D/S AU. And this whole idea is so so cute.

Firstly, I almost thing you'd need to teach max how to play with cat toys? Which might sound odd, but it's because he's spent so much time trying to avoid those toys and trying to resist the desire to play with them that when you actually get him some... he has no idea what to do with them?

Like you buy him a scratching post and he literally just stares at it. He knows it's something for him, knows it's a toy for cat hybrids, but he has no idea what to do. You have to tell him that he can scratch it with his nails and it feels nice and fun before he does it, and even then he's so shy about it.

In fact maybe you make an excuse to leave the room, like to go check on dinner or something, just to give Max some time without feeling like someone is watching him. You return a few minutes later to find max using the scratching post happily, dragging his nails across it and purring lightly.

He falters when you walk in, but you only smile at him and take a seat on the couch, acting like this is completely normal so that max can feel relaxed. It works and soon max is back to using his scratching post.

Max absolutely adores it, and then when you start to buy more toys, the process continues.

I just LOVE the idea that he becomes excitable as he gets more and more comfortable? Max is a pretty chilled, reserved person but he really becomes energetic and excited when he's around people he's comfortable with (it's worth noting he is always extremely reserved around his father).

When you buy him a laser pointer, he is both nervous and confused, mostly because he knows there's no point to this game. There's no ball to catch or anything. This is literally just him trying to catch something he will never really catch. You'd be entertaining him with absolutely no objective. It's the exact type of game that his dad would never let him play.

But you encourage him, promising him that you would enjoy doing it and then you can stop after a few minutes if he doesn't like it. So, reluctantly, he agrees.

And oh my god he LOVES the laser pointer.

At first he's reserved, just barely trying to touch the laser on the floor, but then you start moving is quicker and encouraging him and oh my god he has a great time. Very quickly he's throwing himself to try and catch the laser.

And yeah I love the idea that you make it easy for him to catch sometimes. You never tell him this, and it's so so worth it because he gets so happy every time he catches it.

He always turns to you, cheering and going "Did you see that? I caught it! Did you see that???" and he's so excited, purring a little and asking you to put the laser pointer on again.

And the feather???? While he's on your lap???

Max thinks he's died and gone to heaven the day he wakes from a nap on your lap and you're dangling a feather in front of hm. He goes to get it and you move it out of his reach.

This turns into an absolutely adorable game where max is laying on his back with his head on your lap and you're dangling the feather above him. He tries to catch it without getting up, and of course he's still half asleep and purring so loud your legs are getting a massage and it's just... it's everything.

Also, imagine max's mother and sister coming to visit and discovering how much more accepting he is of his cat hybrid nature now??

[sarroora]

Omfg I literally just sent that last ask prematurely I only got like 3 hours of sleep last night 😭 that was embarrassing ANYWAYS 🤜🫳

✨🧚 Sleep deprived HC time

Dibble definitely pulls those kinds of pranks on the fellas where he'll secretly put a cucumber by them and try not to laugh as they jump/overreact or shoot a laser pointer out of his apartment window into the alley and watch them go crazy over it from afar

Related to the last one, I feel like all the fellas would jump from the cuke except Brain. I feel like he'd just stare at it for a little bit and then take a huge bite out of it. He wouldn't eat the rest, just that one bite.

I can only describe the way T.C. loafs as a somewhat stale baguette 🥖

I feel like Spook, Chooch, and Brain have to be the snorers of the group. Brain has a cutesey not-obnoxious snore, almost like a purr, Spook snores pretty consistently because ✨brachycephaly✨ and Chooch only snores when he's sleeping the wrong way but when he does it's LOUD. Like he snores like a freight train (get it cos his name's Choo Choo ahhahagagaghh)

Generally the fellas don't like stealing clothes off the overhanging clotheslines but I think Brain disregards the fact that it's stealing if it's a really cozy-looking sweater. LOOK HE CAN DO NO WRONG IN MY EYES GIVE THE MAN HIS SWEATER

Pedro definitely Irish step dances and he fucking kills at it. Occasionally he'll show off in the pizzeria and get a big round of applause. He did try to teach Dibble how to do it when they were kids but Dib twisted his ankle so bad he needed surgery so they never tried it again

I really love to think that Fancy either had stripes when he was a kitten and grew out of them or he still has stripes but you can only really see them when the sun hits his fur right

Similarly to the last one I like to think T.C.'s fur and eyes have an almost metallic glisten to them in the sun like gold (not like Gold Pelt though like his fur just shimmers like gold would)

Yeah uhhh hopefully I get this done today and uh yeah 🧚✨

-YO I'm glad we both agree Dibble is a prankster🕺💃. You wouldn't think he's the type but that's why it's extra funny and unexpected for his victims friends lol

-Hell yeah Brain's a tactile fella and that's kinda how his brain works - rarely takes anyone's word for something being dangerous. He'll touch/taste it first and decide (which is scary for the other guys for obvious reasons)

-T.C. may loaf like a stale baguette indeed but he makes up for it by sleeping like a bendy croissant🥐

-Brain bleps when he's sleeping too just sayin

-Oh yeah, T.C. needs to be vigilant about that - Brain can sometimes look at taking something as simply borrowing, coz he does intend to give it back eventually so what's the big deal? - not understanding that not everyone will see it that way and they could all get in trouble. So T.C. has to drill it in his head: "Anythin' you take from the gang is borrowin' - anythin' else without askin' is stealin'. We don' do that."

-Hell yeah I love the HC that Fancy has stripes. They're just not too differently colored from the rest of his pelt so they're not obvious in dim lighting

-Also, since Fancy is so darn charming and handsome, he and Benny tend to have the best luck getting food from strangers overall

-T.C. feels like Benny is the group's good luck charm. While yeah, the little fella can be a magnet for harmful freaks, he also attracts some kind and generous people who can't help but fall for his sweet looks and demeanor

-We need more Pedro and Dibble shinanigans asdgfkhflfsjl

-I always imagined T.C. and G.P.'s colorings to be opposites when it comes to their fur and eyes. T.C. has light yellow fur that is even paler in the sunlight, but has a nice shine to it when the light hits it just right. G.P.'s fur is naturally richer in its gold coloring even in dim lighting.

However, when it comes to the eyes, T.C.'s eyes are more richly golden and radiant, whilst G.P.'s are a lighter, colder yellow.

[1358456]

Dex Holder Gadgets

One major recurring thing that I did in my stories is give Dex Holders some tech to use. And they're usually the same tech, thus recurring. Platinum has Halo-esque shields in SA, and has Protoss Hardened Shields in Destiny, for example.

A lot of characters in the actual manga use a variety of tech tools from time to time, most notable being Blue. So I figured, why not continue that with others?

With more Dex Holders and more games to copy from, there are more gadget opportunities! And some could be quite fun to utilize, especially those that I never got a chance to utilize yet. So, here is the list of Dex Holders and the gadgets they could use in short stories and whatnot. Not everyone has one, and not everyone has new ones. Of course, no Pokedex variants will count, since everyone has them by definition.

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

Blue: modified Silph Scope, sticky camera, sticky shocker, snake camera, camera jammer, voice modulator, etc.

Blue already uses a variety of gadgets even in RGB, and she's actually quite the inventor. So... incorporate that even more, and have her make a variety of tools from Splinter Cell, just non-lethal variants, and primarily for surveillance. I don't think planting a wall mine that explodes is very suitable for Blue. So how about a wall mine that releases gas instead?

She already uses a lot of these in my past stuff, so most of these aren't new. The snake camera and sticky cameras have appeared in an Assassination Excerpt, for example. And she's not using some of the stuff that's actually in the arcs, like that bubble mic thing, because... how the f*ck does that even work?

And of course, Blue would lend some of her gadgets to Red and Silver whenever they need some. But unlike them, she'll always have most of these on her at all times.

Red: "So what upgrades did you put in for that scope of yours?" Blue: "Oh, this and that. Standard night vision to see in the dark, thermal vision, electromagnetic vision, and the newest mode, the sonar vision to see through non-soundproof walls." Red: "Wow. Quite the upgrades!" Blue: "Hehe. No one's going to be hiding from me now."

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

Gold: billiard cue.

It's not much of a gadget, but... he kind of uses it like one? It somehow does all sorts of things. So it should count for him. A multi-purpose indestructible billiard cue. Jam a laser pointer and/or a flashlight in there or something, and there you go. It's a tech tool now.

Plus, given the shape of a billiard cue, Gold can now use the Slugger style from Yakuza 0 and Kiwami if things call for it. Hehehe...

Not that it helped in the Assassination Excerpt.

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

Crystal: binoculars, network booster.

I believe Crystal already has that adapter thing from her game version, which... I don't ever recall seeing use. But, given her by-the-book style and emphasis on staying in contact, I think it makes sense for her to carry portable equipment that prevents her communications from being cut off or something. Make her the hub of reports and contacts.

Oh, and binoculars for her capturing jobs. I'd imagine that it'll be important to be able to spot the thing she's trying to catch without alerting it first.

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

Ruby: Running Shoes 2.0.

I sometimes forget, but he has the rare item from RSE that allows you to do a basic action. Except in the manga, it's mechanical and gives him superspeed. So... those shoes, except new! They don't do anything they didn't do before, but... you know. Brand new!

Emerald: "Are those brand new?" Ruby: "Yeah. I had to replace the old ones." Emerald: "Why? I read about them, and they don't do anything new." Ruby: "Well, the first ones I got... Sapphire buried them in a swamp. So I got new ones. ... She buried those in the swamp too. So I got a third set, which got burned by a Houndoom, torn apart, and then buried in a swamp. But the fourth set..." Emerald: "... You do know she's going to do it again, right?"

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

Emerald: soil sample revolver.

The thing he already had before his design turned into something that resembles a gunslinger. So his gadget should look like a revolver too, instead of a toy gun. Antagonizing lines are optional. "Which hole did you crawl out of? Can you crawl back in there? Or are you not welcome back there neither?"

Sword: "Wait, how does this even work? There's no gunpowder in these soil sample bullets, and the gun doesn't have a firing pin. So how does this gun shoot these bullets?" Emerald: "... Spring loaded?" Sword: "But it's a revolver with no-" Emerald: "Shh."

It fires the whole bullet, which is 65% more bullet per bullet!

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

Platinum: hardened shields?

So, in SA, I gave Platinum a Halo-esque shield system. And in Destiny, I gave her a lesser version of a Protoss Immortal's hardened shields. It's a recurring thing and probably could've happened in Legacy at some point. But I'm kind of on the fence about this one, now that Platinum has Glaceon to create ice barriers. And a personal shielding system seems way too advanced compared to the other crap that's on this post. Gold just has a Swiss Army billiard cue and Platinum has knock-off Protoss tech? That doesn't seem fair at all.

Platinum already has like +3 Plot Armor. She doesn't need +3 Plot Shield Armor as well. Platinum imba, must nerf.

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

Y: booster boots.

So, at some point before 2020, I pondered about what I'd give Y in Legacy while Platinum got her shielding system. One option was to give her a jetpack with retractable wings for on-the-spot Sky Trainer mode. That idea was scrapped because... of the Terran Reaper's line in Starcraft II.

"These jets are BURNING MY ASS!"

A jetpack can't be like a backpack and nothing else, since that would really burn the wearer. Looker's "jetpack" in Pt is worse since that's just a rocket with straps. So a jetpack with wings that doesn't burn Y's butt, that should be compact and not super clunky seemed a bit much. And if the jetpack didn't allow for flight but a short burst only, then it has no reason to be a "pack" to be worn.

So the other option was to give her a small rocket propulsion mod to her boots. Kind of like Ruby's shoes, except they don't require running and only provide a quick boost. So the idea was for Y to be able to suddenly burst into speed, or do a double-jump.

Ultimately, the idea didn't go anywhere because in order for Legacy's bad ending to be even viable, Platinum must not have shields. So not only would Y not get the opportunity to get tech upgrades, with her impending crisis of being stabbed, she wouldn't be able to use that anyways. And with my own health concerns at the time, I never figured out a solution. So in the spoiler posts, the tech additions were simply removed.

But now, with Yakuza 7 Gaiden introducing something very similar, I can now give Y that. Agent Gadget: Serpent! It's essentially a jet boost in a pair of shoes. So... modify that slightly and give 'em to Y!

With these boosters in her boots, Y can use them offensively by activating the booster while kicking someone, defensively by using them to essentially quick-step away, do a double jump to reach higher than ever, do a boost jump to leap further than ever, and negate fall damage by using the jets before landing.

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

Scarlet: auto-threads launcher.

Scarlet already uses that crappy spider to basically mimic Spiderman. Now, it just happens that in Yakuza 7 Gaiden, there's a tool that allows Kiryu/Joryu to do exactly that. Agent Gadget: Spider! It's essentially a wristwatch that fires a wire at targets to immobilize them and can also be used to grapple-hook onto far locations. It's something quite suitable for Scarlet who already does most of that using her spider.

Now, when Scarlet is annoyed by someone, she can pretend to check her watch for the time, press a button, tie up and fling that nuisance somewhere, and then walk away.

Scarlet: "I wonder what time it is..." Violet: "Uh oh." Scarlet: "Exactly."

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

That's all the ones that come to mind. I considered in Shield's Dynamax power field (insert Protoss Pylon joke) like in that practice battle, but that doesn't seem to have any uses outside of Dynamax. Maybe it could be modified to produce a useful power field, akin to Protoss Sentry's Guardian Shield, but that seems a bit much. Besides, I can't give anyone tech tools that are too powerful. That's the whole reason why Platinum got nerfed. Hehe.

[lucius-morningstar]

Just Curious

Lucius is kinda curious on something with Husk. Might not have been his best idea but in his defense, it was kinda funny. ------ Cherri: Hey Lucius, have you seen An-..What is that. Lucius: Laser pointer. Cherri: Why do you have that. Lucius: Originally I was going to give it to Charlie to use for her presentations and shit but before I do I kinda want to make sure someone else doesn't react to it. Cherri: ...You gonna try it on Husk? Lucius: Yeah.. Wanna watch? Cherri: Only if you let me have a turn should this work. Lucius: Deal. ----- Lucius: Okay.. let's see, on.. and alright Husker. Lets see how much of a feral cat you are. Cherri: He looks like he's trying to ignore it. Put it closer. Lucius: Come on Husk, look at the red dot come and ge- and there he goes. Cherri: Ha look at him, didn't know he could move that fast. My turn. Lucius: Hey at least let me finish first before you go snatching it from my-.. Uh oh. Cherri: I forgot that fucker could fly! Lucius: We should probably stop now, he is going to destroy the curtains an-.. Oh no.. ----- Vaggie: What the fuck?! Cherri: Lucius started it. Lucius: Okay but you took over! Vaggie: I don't care who started it or took over what the fuck happened?! Lucius: ...I got a laser pointer. Wanted to see if Husk would chase it and.. Yeah Vaggie: ...If you weren't Charlie's brother I'd throw you out the window. Lucius: Bitch I'd like to see your short ass try! Vaggie: Pendejo... Lucius: Excuse you, who are you calling a pendejo. Vaggie: I call em like I see em. Cherri: Well Imma go find Angie you two have fun. Vaggie: You realize you're going to be cleaning this up. Lucius: Oh and you think you can make me. Vaggie: I know I can. Lucius: Try it then, la perra Vaggie: .... * Angel: So.. This didn't work out for you did it. Lucius: Shut it. Angel: Charlie making you clean up the mess. Lucius: She's probably the only one who could. Vaggie's smug lookin ass thinks she can tell me what to do! Angel: To think Cherri and Husk got away with both messing up the hotel. Lucius: Don't remind me.. The only reason I'm doing this is because Charlie asked. Angel: And because you bought the laser pointer. Lucius: Seriously Angel shut the fuck up!