#I finished this fic a while ago

[ok-boomerang]

Good Reasons to Freeze to Death | Fic Complete!

read on ao3🔥🌊

chapters: 6/6 | rating: T

Two years after the war, Fire Lord Iroh wants Prince Zuko in the Southern Water Tribe for a diplomatic mission. Zuko has plenty of reasons to say no, like the fact that he’s busy enough being a prince of the Fire Nation (and because of her dark hair, her deep blue eyes, her fiery will, her—) To placate his uncle, he writes a list of reasons it would be good to go. But Zuko knows it’s a futile exercise; there’s nothing that could convince him that visiting the Southern Water Tribe is a good idea…

[daeyumi]

painting in the depths

more self insert x canon 🩵

[birrdies]

dead; by birrdie 14.9k, 1 chapter (complete*)

[marquisecubey]

wish you were here

[nanami-is-nanamean]

OKAY SO--

I was watching a fakemon video about pancakes, and as it reached the end, it showed a list of pancakes they havent turned into pokemon. Fascinated, I paused the video to check what pancakes they hadnt turned into fakemon and LO AND BEHOLD-- danish æbleskiver, which are basically danish pancakes

Filled to the brim with "nanami is part danish" brain rot, i punched it into google and OH MY GOD--

HRAJHDKSHDSJFJSNF-- THEY LOOK LIKE LITTLE TAKOYAKIS

Augh, now i can just imagine gojo coming home to the sight of his beautiful husband cooking something in a large takoyaki pan. I can see him begin to brighten in delight in some homecooked takoyaki and other japanese streetfoods like yakitori, dango, jaga butter, and more.

But as nanami smiles and puts the little balls on his plate, instead of reaching for some savory takoyaki sauce and bonito flakes, kento instead reaches for some powdered sugar and jam. Nanami slowly feeds him the pastry, and AUGH i can just imagine how Gojo would brighten at the burst of sweetness in his mouth. The tart berries from the jam, the pillowy and pancakey softness of the balls, and the deliciousness that comes from nanamis heart. You bet ur ass that gojos definitely gonna urge him to make more after this :))

[lowrezbonuslevel]

i can't believe they r roommates

hi guys i don't read much fanfiction but i read my mutual's gijinka fic And They Were Roommates and it was good and you guys should read it, i also thought i should show my appreciation by depicting my favorite moments artistically (i took a few creative liberties okay)

number one the glitter incident:

number two the sparring incident:

and finally number three the parmesan incident:

all gijinka designs by the fic author, @starsh0cked (i did my best lol)

[oliviaischillin1204]

lots to learn

Pairings: Romantic Anamoceit

Word Count: 1,323 words

this is a direct sequel to this minific from a few years ago, they don't have to be read together but u might as well lol

"... I guess I've got a lot to learn."

"I think we all do!"

Virgil smiled up at him, and really, Patton couldn't help but lean down and press a kiss against his forehead.

"Do we wanna keep going, or are we tired?" he asked lightly. He really hadn't meant to tease, but it was pretty cute how both Virgil and Janus went suddenly shy at the idea of them continuing their little 'lesson'.

"Well, I for one have quite a busy morning at work tomorrow," Janus interjected, pretending he wasn't flushed and avoiding Patton's eyes. "So I'll have to pass on being the... subject, in order to get any actual rest. Unfortunately."

"Oh, sure," Patton replied. "So that means you're definitely not going to get any more tickles tonight, unless you change your mind and ask me or Virge to tickle you! That's what you want, right? No more tickles tonight?"

Janus' fingers clenched where he'd folded his arms protectively over his chest. "...Yes. It's not like I'd ever ask for more, of course."

"Oh, of course not," Patton teased, winking obviously at his husband. He gave Janus about twenty minutes tops before he caved and starting begging, which meant...

Patton smiled down at Virgil, who was still lying on his back in between himself and Janus. He returned Patton's gaze with a shy yet cocky gaze.

"Do you wanna...?" Patton offered. Virgil nodded wordlessly, biting his lip.

"Aw, yeah? You wanna go ahead and lift those arms for me, then?" he continued.

There were a few moments as Virgil took in a slow, shaky breath, before he managed to fold his arms behind his head. Janus shifted, sitting up further, but the slight movement was enough to make Virgil slam his arms back down to his sides with a panicked noise.

Neither Patton or Janus could stop the laughter that burst out of them.

"My goodness, darling, is it really that bad?" Janus teased.

"Oh, come on, Janny, you know how it is!" Patton retorted. "The anticipation makes everything feel so much more sensitive, huh, Virge?"

Virgil didn't respond; he was too busy burying his dark face in his hands as his partners teased him. "Please kill me."

"You wish," Janus replied. "Arms up, buttercup."

"Janus."

"If you have a problem with nicknames I'm afraid you're going to have to speak up soon. Patton can be quite creative."

Patton smirked, his voice a sing-song as he replied, "You would know!"

"Enough," Janus said in a voice that was not quite begging. "Eyes on Virgil, please."

Patton chuckled one more time, but did move on the bed until he was lying comfortably on his side next to Virgil, one hand propping up his head while the other rested innocently next to Virgil's side. Janus did the same; Virgil cut his eyes over to him, and he merely gave him that slow, sharp smile that Virgil loved.

"Should we make it a game?" Patton asked, fingers drumming the mattress and making Virgil tense up.

Janus hummed. "Maybe 'how long can you keep your arms up'? Or 'how long can you hold in your laughter'?"

"I'm not gonna last that long," Virgil blurted. His arms twitched, begging to drop to his sides, but he kept his hands behind his head. "I'm-- I'm really ticklish, and you're making it so horrible, but I do like it, but I feel like I'm gonna explode and you haven't even started yet--"

"Shhhhhhh," Janus whispered. "Breathe, Vergilius." His raised his hand, letting Virgil keep his eyes on his fingers as they curled in the air. "Just trust us. We'll take care of you."

Virgil was so entranced by Janus' fingers that he was completely unprepared for Patton running his nails down his side. Virgil gasped; his arms dropped just as he'd warned them, but Janus was viper-quick and managed to grab one elbow, pinning the arm closest to him back next to Virgil's head.

"Oh, hello," Janus purred, "what's this?" He fluttered his nails on Virgil's other side, the mirror image of where Patton's hand had been, and Virgil couldn't stop the keening squeal that escaped from his throat.

"Aw, is that a good spot?" Patton cooed. He copied Janus' pose by easily pulling Virgil's arm up so he could pin it (either because Patton was clearly stronger than Virgil and was able to pry his arm away from his side, or because Virgil was actually trying very hard to not protect himself from the tickles).

"Must be, if he's fighting us this much," Janus continued.

"Can't-- hehehelp it!" Virgil whined. His laughter was coming out in spurts and bursts, like he was trying to hold it back. This was torture; Patton's rough hands and rounded nails scratching between his ribs and his side was already enough to make him want to lose it, but Janus was much more delicate, which was freaking worse, because that meant he let his well-manicured nails dance ever so gently just above the most sensitive spots along Virgil's waistline, not speeding up and not going any rougher, just enough to make Virgil want to throw his head back and wail.

Of course, he couldn't do that, because he had three sleeping kids in the house and the thought of having to go through their bedtime routines yet again was exhausting. All he could do was lean forward and gasp in a breath as quietly as possible before saying, "Wait wait wait wait--"

His partners stopped immediately.

"I can't-- can't be quiet," he choked out. "The kids-- I don't wanna wake them, I'm sorry--"

"It's alright, sweetie," Patton replied, stroking Virgil's hair. He looked over Virgil's head at Janus, and the two seemed to have a silent conversation for a moment before he continued, "I have a thought."

The next thing Virgil knew, Patton was maneuvering him around, even picking him up for a brief moment and making Virgil yelp with surprise. When he was settled, Virgil found himself sitting on Patton's lap, his legs on either side of Patton's hips and their chests nearly pressed together. Heat rushed back to his face at the proximity.

"How about this?" Patton asked. "You need to laugh, you do it into my shoulder."

Virgil was about to respond when suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as Janus leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Would that help you stay a bit quieter, darling?"

Virgil nodded so fast he almost hurt himself. "Yes."

He could feel Janus' grin again the back of his neck. "Good." That's all the warning he had before Janus' nails trailed all the way down his sides, from his armpits to just above his hips.

The noise that came out of him was nearly indecent, but Patton's hand came up and pushed Virgil's head into his shoulder just in time. This was almost worse, for Virgil-- not being able to see anything, so vulnerable and exposed pressed between his partners' chests-- but at least he didn't have to hold in his laughter anymore. He could merely relish in it as Patton's hands wrapped around his back to trace and spider through his sleep shirt all over the sensitive spots on his back, or as Janus' hands snuck around to flutter damningly all over Virgil's stomach.

"It's okay," Patton murmured into Virgil's hair, although the other man could barely hear it over his own muffled laughter. "We've got you. Just laugh it out."

"Besides," Janus continued, curling forward so his breath could once again tickle Virgil's ears, "it's your day off tomorrow. I think this is a perfect chance to explore this wonderful little secret I found, hmm?"

Virgil could blame it on the fact that he couldn't speak at the moment-- not with his mouth, wide open and wailing, pressed into the warmth that was Patton's shoulder-- but if he were honest... he couldn't agree with Janus more.

[comicallybadwriter]

“You don’t need to talk.” Aziraphale started, making an obvious choice to keep his hands to himself, even though reaching out to comfort the demon was all he wanted in that moment. Crowley had to chide himself for thinking it was what he wanted as well. “But I need to apologise, for everything I’ve done to you Crowley, everything I’ve put you through and all I’ve kept from you.”

Crowley swallowed thickly, still refusing to look the angel in the eye. He was staring out the window, watching as Nina’s shop took customers in various numbers. A couple of humans were sitting in their designated spots. It made the demons heart stutter.

“I-” The angels voice faltered, then came back after a second of breathing- “I’m sorry for leaving you Crowley, and for not explaining why. I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to be an angel again, I just- I remember you so vividly with that beautiful bright smile and those stunning white wings, and I got excited.” Aziraphale had started fiddling, not that it was uncommon for him to do that, but it was always a weak point with Crowley’s ability to stay mad. “I wanted to be able to change Heaven so bad, to be fit for you, and safe for the world. For humanity. I wanted- I still do really, to be able to say we were on the same side, and Heaven not be able to do a damned thing.”

That got Crowley’s attention, “You can’t just-!” His eyes went wide in search of something to say, but Aziraphale shushed him again, “I said far worse things upstairs before I got back, let me finish.” The angel shifted on the bed, and sucked in a breath, “You had done nothing to be forgiven for… after you- we, I mean that is-”

“I get it, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, well,” He cleared his throat, face warming up at the memory. “I shouldn’t have… it shouldn’t have happened like that. There was just something nagging me in the back of my head, shouting over and over again, that it wasn’t- that I had to leave. That there were far more important things to do in that moment in time.” Once the words had left his mouth, Aziraphale realised how it sounded, “That isn’t to say I’m making excuses! I merely mean, I’d never felt like that before, my head was… fuzzy. And after what the Metatron had offered me, and oh- I was so excited to tell you- to change the whole thing. To let you know that I would be there for you at the drop of a dime But I-"

Silence filled the room until Aziraphale spoke again, desperately hoping that he’d get Crowley to speak to him again, to say anything to him, scream shout. Not just one worded answers. “So I- I well, I came back down when I heard you were… well it doesn’t matter does it. I came back down, and I don’t regret a thing.”

Finally, Crowley grumbled something incoherent, and Aziraphale perked up. “Pardon, dear?”

“I said, it does matter.” Crowley stood up from the bed, then reached out to nothing in particular, before dropping his hand again. “It should matter. I should matter Aziraphale! But you-!” His voice broke for a moment, before the demon took an unsteady breath in- “You chose them. When it mattered.”

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, Crowley knew that, but he couldn’t help it. He was tired, he was scared, and he was angry. He wanted to go back to before, when they could get drunk in the bookshop downstairs without visitors, and Crowley could snap his fingers, so the record player was making beautiful music that seemed to always entice the angel to hum along no matter how intoxicated. He wanted to go back.

“I was the one breaking into the shop when it was burning to the ground, terrified you had been taken from me forever, and who drove through literal fire and flames to get to you when I found out you were okay! I was the one who went up to Heaven. I was the one Gabriel told to walk into Hellfire, and I was the one who had him look at me- who he thought was you- and tell me to shut up and die. Me not them!” Crowley felt tears slipping down his face as he waved his hand upwards towards Heaven. “I went up and found out what was wrong with Gabriel! Told that anyone involved would be erased with the book of life! Me! Me! No one else!” Crowley felt like he was losing his grip on reality, jumping around with every shouting word he let out. His hair flailing at his shoulders as he sniffed and wiped his face.

“And I-” he took another breath in, though it did nothing but indicate how he was shaking- “I was the one who stood beside you when push came to shove. I believed in you.”

The anger collapsed alongside the demon, and he fell back on the bed, a right sobbing mess. If Aziraphale wasn’t the issue there, then Crowley would have sunk into the angels arms and appreciated the hug, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Crowley I-” shouldn’t have left you alone to carry so much- “I-” loved you so much it hurt to be near- “I- I can’t possibly find the words to apologise. If it meant I had to stand on my hands for the next century and do our apology dance upside down, I’d do it for you. I need you to know how sorry I am.”

[gifti3]

the au revives for a moment....more arranged marriage au stuff with asmo and reader! Last thing I posted was this. This new scenario def happens once Asmo starts to actual warm up to MC, hence why MC is acting the way they are.

but yea this ones pretty short but i think its worth sharing since i wrote most of it already!

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

"Asmodeus can you please get out of my closet?"

He currently eyes one of your casual wears in his hand. "I'm almost done! I just wanted to see what you usually wear..."

Several maids also stood in your room, holding up different outfits you would wear on a day to day basis. Asmodeus kept handing them off to them as he kept going in and out of your closet.

You sigh at the unnecessary work he was giving the staff but they surprisingly seemed to be having fun talking among themselves and with him. Actually it shouldn't really be surprising at all. This was most definitely the norm for them.

You hold back an annoyed groan. "Okay well when you're done make sure everything is put back. I'm leaving."

"Ah! Wait come here. I need you actually! I want to see how these outfits actually look on you."

You stare at him and he stares right back. "......I'm not changing in and out of all these clothes. Asmodeus why exactly are you looking through my stuff anyways?"

"I'm obviously going to revitalize your whole wardrobe. You're welcome."

"You really don't need to do that." You immediately start worrying about the type of clothes Asmodeus would pick out. You had these clothes specifically cause they were comfortable for you appearance and physical wise.

You walk up to him a take your outfit out of his hands. "I like my clothes as they are thank you." You turn towards the maids, "Everyone please put everything back."

"Everyone stay."

The maids stand in place unsure of what to do with conflicting commands. However, they were technically were Asmodeus's maids first and yours second.

"MC I'm trying to do something nice for you?"

"I understand that but I like these clothes..."

You did not understand and didn't really consider it nice.

"I'm not going to get rid of what you have silly! I'm adding to it."

Oh. Well that didn't sound as bad...

"Still that's not really necessary. I'll probably just stick to what I already have."

Asmodeus lets out an over the top sigh. "It's bad to reject a gift dear. Trust me on this, ill pick things that fit you well. Now can you try on the outfit in your hand? It shouldn't be too hard to put on your own."

...Dear?

[sisterdivinium]

Now is the time to place your bets on whether or not this hyper self-indulgent doctor superion Vampire the Masquerade AU fic will or won't get to 100 handwritten pages...

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: mention of previous abuse, dad Dabi, mom reader, mention of childbirth, angst

new dad touya that doesn’t know how to deal with his son. he’s growing too fast and his smiles are so big, but he’s still not sure how to just be with him.

touya isn’t abusive in the slightest, not like his shit for brains dad. he can acknowledge, after you’ve drilled it into his head on cold nights where you had to hold his quivering cheeks in your hand, that he’s better. that he’s trying. that he’s a great dad.

he doesn’t really believe it. it’s hard to believe that he’s a great dad when his son, still covered in that fresh newborn smell, stares up at him with matching azure blue eyes, the little shit, and he finds it hard to smile back. it’d be easier to smile back if he could guarantee a life with no trauma, with the perfect pair of parents, that he’d love him as much as his tiny little face deserved.

touya can still hear the labor and delivery nurse tell him that he must’ve gotten on your nerves for the baby to look so much like him, and that they’ve never seen a baby that fresh out the womb smile so big at their dad. he hands the little bundle back to you, and glares at the nurse who hands him a tissue. he takes it anyway.

touya loves his son. so goddamn much that it hurts, but, he doesn’t know how to be a dad. and he knows that you don’t know how to be a mom either, that it’s a learning process for the both of you. but he’s so scared—he’s terrified that he’ll fuck up this innocent brat with his ruin. with his scars and history and the want to better but never knowing how to just be.

so he leaves. it’s the day after your sons first birthday that you celebrated together in your home.

you thought everything was okay, that he was starting to get the hang of being a dad. he did everything right, why couldn’t he stay? he sat on the floor with your son and changed his diaper and made him giggle those addicting baby giggles? he carried your son everywhere whenever he cried after being sat down without a single complaint? he helped him open his birthday presents? he didn’t smash the cake in his face, only swiped a little icing on his sons nose to hear that addicting baby giggle? he held your son like he could never let him go?

how could he just go like this? you thought he was finally learning and accepting how to be a dad? what happened?

[capper-tan]

*rises from the dead* yall

Here's just a little animatic inspired by one of the newest chapters of This Wicked Day of Destiny to celebrate the 5th anniversary (It's been 5 years oh ̶K̶r̶e̶l̶ the passage of time is coming for us all) of the canon continuation of 3Below, Wizards: The Ones Who Stayed by the incredible akozuheiwa

It's been an honor to follow this masterpiece for 5 years and I can't wait to see where it goes and cry about it

Song is Monster from Epic the Musical by Jorge Rivera-Herrans (definitely recommend listening to it in full.)

uuuhhh all rights reserved something something copyright idk (i oughta figure out how that stuff works :/[does it even apply here? idk])

If it looks janky blame capcut

[galvanizedfriend]

Both Christmas fics!

Oh nonnie 😂 I love a Christmas AU. Come November (!!!), all I do, all day long, is leave my TV on Hallmark channel and watch the same crappy Christmas movies (full of TVD/TO actors btw lol) over and over. So naturally, I end up with intrusive thoughts about getting Klaroline into Christmas romcoms where Klaus is alwats a Scrooge or Grinch sort of creature and Caroline is the ray of sunshine that melts some of the ice around his heart. 😂 Could it be any more cliche? No. Do I care? Also no.

So the first Xmas AU was Caroline getting invited to spend Christmas in the UK with Enzo (her bestie) at his new husband's (lololol) family's ancestral home, Mikaelson House. But she was promised that Klaus wouldn't be there, because they're Christmassy people and he always spends the Holidays skiing. Except there's a snow storm and his flight got cancelled and so he's stranded. Caroline and Klaus have some beef from Enzo's wedding (which I can't remember what exactly what it was about, but I'm sure I wrote it down somewhere 😂). And so it would be a very Mikaelson family situation with Klaus and Caroline getting over their beef in the process.

The second one is more uhm *controversial*😂 But I think I like the execution of it more. Klaus inherits a property from his biological father whom he's had no contact with his entire life. He doesn't want anything to do with it because he obviously holds a giant grudge over the fact he was abandoned to suffer at the hands of Mikael his whole life while his father knew of his existence (he finds out about that when he's older). But Elijah (who also doubles as his lawyer because he's a hotshot one) pushes him to go check it out and put it in the market to at the very least get the money (not that he needs it, but anyway). So he goes and finds out the place is actually a Christmas Tree farm that doubles as a holiday theme park (or used to, before it was closed down years before when Ansel got sick), and Caroline is the person in charge of it (she's also a lawyer). He means to just get rid of the whole thing but she ends up convincing him to sell it to someone interested in keeping the business open because the small town where it's located has been suffering greately since the park shut down and it could create a lot of jobs and opportunities for local business owners and while Klaus couldn't care less, he finds out very soon that it's very hard for him personally to say no to Caroline. 😂 Then a lot of things happen (Elijah gets in the middle of it to expedite the sale and ruins everything, Klaus finds out the truth about why his father never contacted him, De Martels appear, etc).

Both sound silly af but that's the spirit of these holiday romcoms and honestly I love them, so whatever 🙆‍♀️

[brokenlovesong]

Yk what my work in progress google docs folder needed? More works in progress!

Now we’ve got:

Paul x Darry (w/ a focus on Paul)

Chet x Sodapop

Ace x Bev (w/ a focus on Bev)

Sure hope I finish, like, one of them… at least…

[maxdurden]

so i've made a buddy dawn playlist.....

[myreia]

wip wednesday!

ty for the tag @lilas! 💖

tagging: @thevikingwoman @roguelioness @tsunael @anneapocalypse @bearlytolerant

shadowbringers aaaaaangst + lightsickness, exactly what it says on the tin.

“Put me down,” she says, her voice muffled. Her face is buried in his shoulder. “I said no chirurgeons.”

“Aur, you must see someone—”

“I said no chirurgeons.” She grips his upper arm, fingernails digging into his coat. “Don’t overreact. This is normal.”

“This is not normal, your heart stopped—”

“This is normal for me. It’s just a shame you had to see it. Now put me down.”

From the sound of her voice, it seems her strength is returning—and with it, her Twelve damned obstinance. Deciding it best to keep his mouth shut for now, he does as she asks.

While Aureia mutters something about being tossed around like a sack of popotos, he carries her to her bed. She is unbearably weak and fragile in his arms, as if she could shatter at any moment. It makes him sick to his stomach to see her like this. Biting his tongue, he sets her down and tries not to take note of the way her clothing has twisted around her body. The light in her veins is fading, retreating across her skin to pool in her chest, right above her heart. It glows through the fabric.  

Aureia tugs at her shirt, wrapping an arm protectively around her chest. She raises hand to her lip and gingerly swipes the tip of a finger across it—the skin is torn and haggard, white oozing from the wound and across her chin. She must have bit through it.

“Seven hells,” she whispers. Closing her eyes, her expression relaxes into one of deep concentration and a greenish light spreads from her fingers, knitting the skin back together. Her injured hand glows, and he has no doubt that the cut in her palm is sealing itself beneath the handkerchief. It only takes a moment, but the effort leaves her exhausted and winded. “Funny how that’s easier now… Wonder what X’hrun would say, he gave me hell for being unable to heal. Unwilling, as he put it.”

He nods, barely registering her words as he searches for somewhere to sit. The foot of her bed feels too… personal. Too much. Too close. Leaning against the wall next to her headboard will have to do. “Is that so?” he says absently, folding his arms.

“I have a theory. I was never good with white magic. But when you have an excess of light incubated in your body, you happen to gain a natural talent for it.” She smiles grimly and rubs a finger across the newly grown skin. The white blood still sticks to her skin. “Ironic, isn’t it? Only when I am terminally ill do I finally understand how to heal the body.”

She falls silent, scratching absently at the handkerchief. Her gaze falls across the room, sweeping from the kitchen to the window and back again. Shaking her head, she tugs the bleached fabric from her hand. “Not that it matters now,” she continues, wiping away the mess on her face. “My hypothesis failed. I’m out of ideas.”

“We will think of something, Aur.” He says it automatically. It’s a bit pathetic, perhaps, how quickly he turns to baseless hope the moment she expresses doubt. But it is what Minfilia would say, were she here. “You do not have to do this alone. The others—”

“—are as much in the dark as I am.”

“Aye, but Y’shtola and Urianger—”

“—are knowledgeable in what they do, but believe me when I say there are some things that we do not understand. I have no doubt that together their brilliant minds can find a solution, but solutions take time. And we do not have much of that left.”

He swallows. “Then let me call on Ryne—”

“No.”

“She understands your condition in a way no one else can—”

“And I’ve burdened her enough—”

“She can help!”

“I am not going to put the pressure of keeping me alive on a seventeen-year-old girl!”

“She wants to help—”

“I can handle this!”

He grits his teeth, cursing under his breath. Why must she be so damn headstrong? “Can you?” he hisses, gesturing at the mess on the kitchen floor. “That is not what it looks like to me.”

Aureia rounds on him, red eyes blazing. “Thank you for your concern,” she says coldly. “But frankly, Thancred, I’m a mage. You aren’t. Your aether’s been fucked since Ul’dah. You can’t even charge your own damn cartridges. Don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about.”