#Not nearly as poetic but still fun

[paranormaltheatrekid]

I think the closest I’ve ever gotten to John and the earth is looking out the window on a plane.

[vyainide]

ㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ ace & dog privileges

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤportgas d. ace

tag(s)&warning(s). drabble, fem/afab! reader, established relationship, creep, reader has BOOBS, i'm sorry flat chesters, this ain't for you, crack treated so seriously, this is not nearly as poetic as my other drabbles sorry, pervert! ace

from vyon. nasty dog but he's tamed so it's okay! 🎀 THIS IS SO STUPID I'M SORRY LMFAO

he's so focused on you that it takes him a second— his attention never divided when you're in front of him, or, well divided onto other things. ace was doing his best, listening to you and staring at your chest equally; you know that he's looking, you don't mind really. you think you'd be a little suspicious actually if ace's eyes weren't systematically rising up to look at your eyes and then moving down to linger at the curve of your chest through your tank top.

his eyes move up again after he gets his fix, stupid smile on his face, as you continue on with your story. your eyes moved over to the side, peeking over his shoulder but he doesn't make much of it when your eyes moved back to him. then, for listening to you and being such a good boyfriend, he treats himself to looking back down to stare at your chest.

his face falls when he sees that you've closed your jacket around your torso, his jaw slack open and eyes widened in horror. "babe..." he called out, a small whisper as he reached out over the table like you two were mourning over a friend's death or like you'd just told him you've done something horrible and he needed to show you support.

"what?" your eyebrows furrowed together, a hand moving towards his open palms on the table. your other arm is still pulling your jacket together.

you follow his gaze back down to your chest before the realisation hits you— the idiot was whimpering because he couldn’t get a good look at your boobs of all things. you kick him under the table, aggrieved. "there's some guy behind you that i think has been having a staring contest with my tits."

"who the hell—?" ace's eyebrows creaks, his smile twitching as his hands turned down on the table; he straightened up, slowly turning himself around. he has half the mind not to go over there and fuck up this random guy for commiting two grevious crimes against him. count one, staring at tits that should be for his eyes only; count two, forcing you to hide said beautiful chest from his view?

actually. "i'm going over there."

"ace—"

"i'm not living in a world where you have to cover up your beautiful rack 'cause of some fucking creep." he straightens up, you pull on his arm; ace looked down at you, annoyed, and then he turned to look at the guy who'd taken to looking at ace now because of his movement. "fuck you think you lookin' at? get your own fuckin' girl."

"dressed like that, she's our girl."

you let go of ace's arm, raising your hands in surrender. "have fun."

ace grinned, stepping out over the bench. "knew you'd come 'round." he leaned down to press a kiss against your cheek and his hand sneaks a squeeze of your boob, "for good luck." he claimed— then he's running off to 'protect your honor' or maybe stake his claim on your boobs.

"wear whatever you want, babe." ace tells you sometime later, after you both make a quick exit from the scene of the crime. his arm slung over your shoulder, obviously taking advantage of his height to get a bird's eye view of your 'beautiful rack', "ohhhh, that mesh lace shirt that you wear over nothing but your bra is fuckin' gorgeous." he remembered.

he rambles on and on, somehow planning outfits for you in the distant future— all of them are planned around tops that promise a view of your tits but you don't really mind. ace'll be there anyways to protect your honor.

[nightsmarish]

Summary: James might actually like Slytherins.

Poly!Starchaser x Reader (James Potter x Reader x Regulus Black) | 1.2k words

TW: mentions of Sirius leaving, getting kicked out(?), honestly not a lot I think

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ

When James started Hogwarts, he had a certain distaste for Slytherins. Never an outright hate, unlike his best mate, Sirius. But something about the house always put a sour taste in his mouth. 

Maybe it was the stories Sirius shared of his family, or the way many of them seem to sneer at him, or maybe it was Severus Snape. He was never really sure. But, nevertheless, the Gryffindor seeker has always seemed to avoid Slytherins. 

Until James’ sixth year at Hogwarts. The previous year, Sirius had left Black Manor for good (but if you ask James, Sirius had left closer to third year, the incident in fifth year just made it official). 

All the Marauders know the story well, and all the boys know just as well how distressed Sirius was when Regulus didn’t take the chance to leave with him.

The refusal created a rift between the brothers—a big rift. Like the big crack in the earth muggles call grand that James never remembers the name of. And that rift lasted for the entirety of fifth year.

But the summer before their sixth year marked when Sirius couldn't take it anymore. So, the boys' sixth year marked when the Black brothers started mending their relationship.

And also when James became a pathetic mess for Regulus. Lily was the first to find out. Besides the boys, Lily was James' person. Once he finally got over the childhood crush he had on her, they became actual friends. 

Regulus is just so…. Regulus. He's pretty, first of all, like, so pretty. James isn’t very poetic, but he reckons one of the romance books Remus has read wouldn’t even begin to describe how beautiful Regulus is. From his well-kept, dark hair to his gray eyes, which at times reminds James of The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel. The same painting his mother has fawned over to him and his father many times. The poetically tragic painting. 

And dear Merlin, he's so smart. James has shared very few classes with the boy, being one year apart makes it hard. But when they shared The Study of Ancient Runes, James became almost certain that he's attracted to people smarter than him, (which he realized greatly limited his dating pool because it can be a bit hard to find people smarter than him (save Remus, Lily, and now Regulus)). Don’t get the seeker started on how good Regulus is at quidditch, he could talk all day. 

Honestly, not much changed with this crush when James met you. You had been friends with Regulus (and Crouch and Rosier, but that was irrelevant to James); maybe a little more; he wasn’t sure at the time; the little friend group had always seemed suspiciously close sometimes. 

You. Oh Merlin, you. It made a lot of sense, at first glance, how you and Regulus got along. Both of you seem to be able to sit in silence, not needing a conversation every time you hang out, yet still having fun. But at the same time, James had seen you able to joke and have banter with Crouch and give half glares at Sirius when he was trying to borrow -steal- Regulus for a bit. 

And finally, after months of talking to (mildly annoying) you too, the lot of you finally started dating. Even though Sirius nearly had a heart attack when he found out, either way, James has found himself walking to the Slytherins table before his own more often, and has found himself ducking from Crouch throwing potatoes at him even more regularly. James has also found himself sneaking into the Slytherin common rooms when he isn’t planning a prank. Like right now. 

It's not exactly necessary to sneak into a common room. The way to get into most common rooms stays the same. Ravenclaws answer a riddle; Gryffindors have a password that changes semi-regularly; Hufflepuffs have changed a few times over the past few years, but right now you have to tap a barrel located in the kitchen space near the Hufflepuffs door. But, as it seems, the Slytherins seem to change more regularly. 

Rarely just a simple password nor a rhyme or riddle. Though James likely doesn’t deserve the right to be annoyed by the constant changing because the Marauders pranks are often the reason for a change. And it's not like the boys exactly need a password to get in. Not when you have learned almost all of the secret passageways through the castle and can sneak in through one of them. 

James finds a way down to the dungeons, with or without any password or trick, and makes his way to Regulus' dorm. When he gets there, he's presented with a loving, beautiful, and perfect view.

The dorm is free of Regulus’ dormmates, Crouch and Rosier, the only people who lay claim are you and Regulus. There you two lay, your head on his stomach, arms wrapped around his waist as your body lays between his legs, any closer and you'd be under his skin.

Regulus is lying back on his pillows, jumper far too red to belong to him. As one hand rests on the top of your head, the other lies abandoned. It’s clear both of you had been reading at some point; books lay abandoned nearby on the bed. 

James could scream, squeal even, but instead he silently closes the door and locks it (the only people that would really need it are people with a key (Crouch, Rosier) or people who don't believe in locks (Sirius, and honestly, probably also Crouch and Rosier)). 

James slips off his shoes near the bed, climbing onto the bed with the two of you.

“Love?” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair away from your face as he gently rubs your shoulder.

You shift, barely coherent, as you open your eyes the smallest amount to look at who woke you. They soften a tremendous amount when you register that James is in front of you. 

“Hi, baby,” Salazar, his smile is so bright, he could make the Black Lake change its name with just a curl of the lips. “Your arms are gonna cramp if you don't move.”

James slowly draws your arms from under your shared boyfriend for you, limp like a liquid cat in his arms, and he somehow finds it the most endearing thing in the wizarding world. 

The movement makes Regulus come to consciousness, opening his eyes much quicker than you did and already more alert than you. “Chéri?” 

“Hello, love.” James drags your liquid body to the side of Regulus, instead of on him, and kisses his boyfriend's temple. Freeing a hand to smooth out his hair and stop him from getting up. “Go back to your nap, just moving you guys a bit so neither of you hurt.”

You are quick to go back to wrapping your arms around Regulus, now in a slightly less straining position, ready to go back to dreaming. James' smile might just grow impossibly founder.

James goes to the other side of Regulus, leaving you to cling to his left as James takes his right. “'S ‘kay to go back to sleeping.” 

“I know.”

You reach one of your hands blindly and grab James’ arm, resting it there as the three of you drift back to a lovely sleep.

Maybe James has a taste for a type of Slytherin after all. 

[declareqenius]

stitched up

warnings: blood, stitches

summary: you were sent on a mission with your father, tony stark, but something went wrong with the new prototype, resulting in you being injured. wanda needs the closeness and the confirmation that you’re right in front of her, but natasha’s emotions nearly get the better of her. 

a/n: this is not how i wanted to end this originally, but i’m having some writer’s block and just wanted to post something again. i may do a part two but it depends on if y’all would like to see a part two or not! 

“If your arm wasn’t bleeding this much, and if my mind and heart didn’t ache every time I glanced away from you, your father would be hanging from the ceiling by his ankles.” 

Of course, leave it to your girlfriend to say something so poetic, yet so vulgar, in a semi-serious situation. 

Wanda’s arms are crossed as she worriedly checks over the rest of your body, trying to keep herself from peeking at the gushing blood coming from your shoulder. The only thing that holds her back from storming down the hallway in search of your father is her need to see that you’re going to be okay. Meaning she has to sit there and watch on as Bruce slowly stitches the gash shut.

“We both know you would do so much worse than that, Wands.” You try to mask your slight wince with a cheeky grin, but of course your girlfriend notices. 

“You’re right. I think I’ll let Natasha have her fun first.” She makes it sound like a joke, however you both know it’s far from such a thing.

Wanda’s eyebrows are still tightly furrowed together, her eyes constantly checking over you as if the second she looks away some new injury will magically appear. Even though you’re the one covered in blood with the stitching needle in their arm, you can’t help but want to comfort her. 

“Hey, love,” you gently place your first finger under her chin and guide her head until her eyes meet yours, “I’m alright. It’s okay.” 

She searches deeply within your eyes, and it’s a miracle you maintain eye contact with her. The sheer build up of love, worry, and warmth you find within her soft green irises takes you aback.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” 

She says it so firmly. The sentence is so contradictory to the emotions she showed you seconds ago. The feelings she only allows you and Natasha- your other, probably furious, redheaded girlfriend- to read and memorize, to know like the back of your hands. 

Her Sokovian accent is thick, which only happens when she’s scared, angry, or safe. And, right now with Bruce in the room, you know it’s a combination of the first two. 

“You’re right, as always,” you give her a smile, which she mirrors, and you stow the memory away as a small victory. “But it did happen. And there’s nothing we can do about it now except let Bruce stitch me up, okay? I’ll be good as new afterwards. Right, Bruce?” 

Your eyes don’t leave Wanda’s because you know looking at Bruce will somehow make the stitching process hurt more. 

The man only gives a nod and soft grunt of approval. 

“See? Nothing to worry about, my dear.” 

“Nothing to worry about, huh?” 

A calloused voice cuts through the room. You’re the first to snap your head up and break the heartfelt moment with Wanda. The quick movement causes Bruce to tug the stitches more than intended, and you close your eyes and take in a slow, deep breath. The soft hand soothingly running along your uninjured arm is the only thing keeping you completely grounded at the moment.

“Cause from where I’m standing, detka, it looks like something we should be worried about.” 

Once you open your eyes again, they immediately fall upon Natasha, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and undoubtedly pissed off. 

You’re aware her anger isn’t directed at you. You know _why _she’s pissed. Your emotions would most definitely get the better of you if either one of your girlfriends was injured and you couldn’t do anything to prevent it. It would be worse if you could have prevented it.

The certainty of your words and relaying the facts to her wouldn’t calm her down, but you know there’s no calming her down on your part. Not when you’re sitting on a stool injured and had to be carried to the med bay so you wouldn’t bleed to death.

“HYDRA got the jump on us, Nat. We weren’t expecting it and there was nothing that could have been done to ensure our safety. You know that. We had the Iron Man suit and the counteract prototype with us, and that’s it. Dad decided to use the prototype because it was all we had. It malfunctioned and I didn’t have enough time to move out of the way after the HYDRA agent pushed me towards it.” 

You’re clear with all of your words and your voice never wavers, nor does your eye contact. Natasha may be the Black Widow, and only a very select group of people could ever talk to her the matter-of-fact way you just did, but sometimes she needs a reminder that things happen no matter how much one tries to prevent them. 

“He could have kept you safe. That should have been his priority. You’re his daughter, Y/N. That’s way more important than barging into an intel mission unprepared! With only a prototype, no less. Especially when it puts your life in danger!” 

The two of you hold eye contact with each other for a few seconds until you glance away and focus on watching Bruce finalize his stitch-work. Watching the needle thread through your skin makes the pain undeniably worse, but you can’t seem to force yourself to look at your girlfriends. 

You don’t see the guilt-ridden regret that crosses Natasha’s features before she looks at the floor beneath her.

Tony wasn’t unprepared for the mission. Neither were you. Both of you surveyed the perimeter twice. Both of you were careful at every corner you turned. HYDRA just happened to outsmart two of the smartest people in the world.

Minutes later and Bruce finishes stitching your left shoulder up. Natasha stands at the door impatiently and Wanda watches her but still makes sure to have some physical contact with you. 

“Alright,” Bruce stands from his chair, “twenty-five stitches. No major physical activity for the next two weeks. That includes missions, working out, and... I don’t have to say it. Let’s give the wound time to heal itself, okay?” 

You nod and thank him before he takes his leave, passing by a very guilty, annoyed Natasha.

“Natalia, podoydi syuda, pozhaluysta.” 

Wanda is the first to speak once Bruce leaves, and you’re grateful she took the initiative. Neither of them like seeing you hurt since both have lost so much in their short lives, but Natasha eats herself up over your injuries. She always thinks she’d be able to do something to prevent them, especially in the field. Wanda’s reactions are slightly more reasonable, but her worry gets the best of her and she often needs physical contact to remind herself you’re still there. 

Natasha begrudgingly takes a seat next to Wanda, who immediately holds out her hand to give the former assassin the option of physical contact. Your shorter girlfriend hesitates before she gently take Wanda’s left hand in her right but makes no move to touch you or glance in your direction. 

The chairs they sit in are lower than your stool, and part of you finds it funny that you’re the one that’s been placed in that position. 

“Moglo byt’ gorazdo khuzhe,” Natasha mutters, staring at her boots and focusing on the way Wanda’s thumb rubs back and forth along the back of her hand.

It could have been much worse.

“Odnako eto bylo ne tak. Ona vse yeshche zdes', i my nuzhny yey pryamo seychas.”

It wasn’t, though. She’s still here and she needs both of us right now.

Wanda’s voice is soothing as she softly speaks to Natasha. 

You let them have their moment and offer the Sokovian a small smile when she sends a gentle wink your way. 

Both know you don’t understand the conversation. You’ve picked up some basic Russian, words or phrases they say a lot, but when they get into full conversations and larger sentences, all you can do is either pretend you’re busy or sit and watch their facial expressions to gauge the nature of the conversation.

They speak a minute longer and Natasha starts relaxing. Her furrowed brows even out, her drawn lips ease into a relaxed expression, and her eyes- although still holding an ounce of anger- start to glisten. She finds the need within herself to look at you, check you over for any other injuries- although Wanda has done that several times over- and finally, search your beautiful eyes with her own. 

“Nat-” 

You move to speak, wanting to voice your concerns and reassure both of them you’re okay even though they can see you sitting here in front of them. However, Natasha stands from her seat and takes a step over to you. She keeps her eye contact with you and gently, with a slight nod of confirmation from you, she slots herself between your legs. Her hand comes up to your cheek and she notices a small bruise forming above your eyebrow. It makes her eyes water a little more. 

“I’m sorry, muy lyubov. You’re injured and I’ve been acting like a dick. I won’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe, or wanting to make Tony pay for his lack of common sense, but I will apologize for directing my anger toward you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry, detka.” 

“It’s okay, Nat. I forgive you. I understand why you were so angry, I mean, I would be too if you or Wands were in my position. So, I get it, but next time I need you to try and talk to me, okay?” 

Natasha nods her confirmation, and you know from the look in her eyes that she’s determined to work on her communication with both you and Wanda. 

“Thank you, my love.” 

Sometimes you all understand each other in different ways and need each other for different things, but in the end, the three of you fit together like nothing anyone has ever seen. The journey has been long and will continue to be, but none of you would have it any other way. 

Natasha’s eyes are still teary, and you can’t help but tilt your head up just enough to catch her lips in a slow, soft kiss. Enough to remind her that she’s forgiven and that you’re not going anywhere. You break apart after a few moments and see Nat’s small smile. It could be better, but you’ll take it for now. However, you notice Wanda getting impatient after having watched you kiss Natasha. 

You look over at Wanda with a grin on your face, “Anything you’d like to say, Wands?” 

“My turn.” 

Wanda gets up from her chair and stands to the left of Natasha. She gently cups your left cheek with her right hand and kisses you much like you did Natasha, except with more fervor- as if she could express gratitude for your life through a kiss. When she pulls away there’s a smile on both of your faces, and her eyes have replaced worry and anger with unconditional love. 

It never ceases to amaze you how willingly and openly your girlfriends give themselves to you. 

[lsunstreakerl]

v fun for the prompt thing! how about motogp max + all the ways charles tries to 'casually' arrange a hangout with him

- time travel anon, who is actually sim rig anon, and I'm just going to give myself an emoji actually

- 🎮

LMAO emoji might be the best way to go. wouldn't want to accidentally baptize you a third time. this ended up being 1.1k words and it's still technically only two separate incidents, but like- Charles is so down bad I simply couldn't condense it.

"So like- I am thinking it is like this, yes?"

Charles grins brightly at Carlos, who is staring blankly at him from the other side of the hotel bed.

"Charles- I am right here. I am shirtless, in your hotel room, and all you can talk about is Max."

Charles frowns. He doesn't want to upset Carlos, it's just that Carlos knows Max (!!!) and he needs to navigate this very carefully.

He reaches over to pat Carlos's chest, gets briefly distracted feeling him up before he sees the unimpressed face he's receiving.

"Charles."

"Carlos."

Carlos groans, flopping onto his back.

"I am getting cockblocked by Max, again, and he is not even here. When I get my hands on him-"

"Do you think he likes romantic dates or is he more of a 'skinny dip in the Monaco Harbor' kind of guy?"

Carlos's hand drops onto his face. He looks physically pained.

"Please do not go skinny dipping in the harbor. You live here. You will never live that down."

Charles frowns.

"It's not like I can just go to Spain, mate."

He's pretty sure Carlos's eye is twitching.

"What, exactly, is stopping you? Because if it means you'll stop waxing poetic about one of my best friend's waists, I will buy you that ticket myself, Perceval."

Charles sits straight up, duvet falling around his waist.

"You will?"

"Oh for- I was kidding- Dios, fine, fine. Sit back down."

Charles settles back down, batting his eyelashes in the way he knows other men go weak for.

"Thank you, Carlos."

Carlos scowls as he jabs at his phone.

"Do not thank me yet- he is a maneater, Charles. Don't go falling in love with him."

Charles has met many maneaters. Normally, it doesn't seem worth the effort to try and reform them- usually women, usually perfectly content with their lifestyle. Max is so stunningly captivating that Charles will gladly let him take chunks out of him, however much he wants.

"Maybe he just has not met anyone interesting enough yet."

Charles gives Carlos his most dazzling smile, dimples and all.

Carlos remains unimpressed.

"Right. I'm sending you your ticket- and you better put some effort in, because if I have to listen to you head over heels, and him bitching about your lackluster sex skills, I'll end it all, yes?"

Charles leans forward, pecking him on the forehead.

"Yes yes, best sex of my life, I understand. Sorry you are not fucking me tonight. I think Lando's up for it?"

Carlos huffs as he pulls his clothes back on, running a hand through his hair as he makes his way to the door.

"You are lucky you're pretty, Perceval."

------

"CHARLES!"

Ollie is shouting to be heard over the thumping bass, but Charles is in the habit of keeping an ear out for his children, so he leans in closer.

He notices with a slight shiver of horror that Ollie is nearly his height already.

"YES?"

Ollie gestures at Charles' new yacht around them.

"IS IT A HOUSEWARMING PARTY IF IT'S A YACHT?"

Charles leans back, thinking. He's actually not sure.

"GO ASK GEORGE."

Ollie nods and bounds away.

Charles should've told him to go ask Sebastian- it would've been hilarious. There's all sorts of drivers here, somewhat of an open invitation for his friends.

There's a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to find Lando grinning evilly at him.

He narrows his eyes.

"WHAT?"

Lando leans up right next to his ear, cupping a hand to be heard better.

Not that it matters, because he keeps shouting a decibel even louder than the actual music- potentially an attempt to sabotage Ferrari by blowing out Charles' eardrum.

"YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO'S HERE!"

Charles furrows his eyebrows.

"WHO?"

Lando turns him slightly to the side, and Charles' eyes scan the crowd. It's all people he knows, although Carlos and Fernando are standing next to-

"Oh my god."

He hears Lando cackling behind him.

"IF YOU DON'T TAP THAT I WILL!"

Charles whips around, shaking Lando by the shoulders while he contemplates dropping him overboard.

"DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, YOU EVIL LITTLE TWINK."

There's a loud burst of laughter from where Carlos and Fernando and standing with Max, and Lando should thank his lucky stars that Charles is so easily distracted, because he gets to live another day.

Max has a wide grin on his face, a drink in his hand, and he's in the shortest fucking shorts-

Charles is not sure how he's meant to handle this.

It doesn't help that Max and Carlos are both wet, clearly having come back on deck from the water. The fabric is clingy, and Charles is going to die, because Max has a tattoo winding up his thigh, disappearing under the hem of his shorts and reappearing just slightly above the waistband. It must cross his entire hip.

Charles would discover a new element if it meant getting to figure out where else it goes.

He picks his jaw up off the ground and gets another drink, something bright and fruity and full of vodka.

Carlos rolls his eyes when Charles approaches, but Fernando lights up, grabbing Charles' wrist and tugging him closer into their little trio.

"CHARLES! This is Max! He is like you, yes? Young and fast! He is a MotoGP driver!"

Charles is a little stunned for a moment, because the only other time he's seen Fernando be so outwardly and obviously proud of other drivers is when it's his own karting academy kids.

Max laughs, and the sound is like silver in Charles' ears, pulls his attention like a magnet.

"We've met, Nando."

Charles could listen to him forever.

"And it's always a pleasure to meet you again, Max."

Carlos makes a gagging noise and turns away, and Max's eyes are sparkling as he grins at Charles, scrunched up into little crescents.

"I like the yacht! Very..."

He waves the hand not holding his drink, and Charles notices he has black nail polish, brain screeching to a halt as he completely misses the rest of what Max is saying.

It's quiet for a second, Max watching him half expectant and half amused.

Charles should probably respond.

"Thank you!"

Max bursts into laughter again, but this time it's because of Charles, and the feeling is comparable to when he snatches pole at the last second.

Charles made him laugh.

Max leans over, water droplets on his neck and shoulders, deftly swiping Charles' drink out of his hand. He raises it in a mock toast, and Charles wants to kick everyone else of this stupid yacht right now-

"Cheers to the yacht owner, yeah?"

Charles has the power of vodka and the French language in his pocket.

"Veux-tu m'épouser?"

Max drains his glass in a smooth pull.

"Still not drunk enough for French, solcito."

Charles chickens out.

"I said we should get dinner sometime!"

Max takes another step forward, right into Charles' space, fingers resting lightly on his forearm. Charles can't look away from him, blue eyes piercing right through him.

Max is still smiling at him.

"I'd like that."

[matcha-milkies]

MARRIED LIFE

Summary: Bill Cipher gets everything he ever wanted, including (especially) a “marriage” to his favorite human. Ford and Stan disagree about where to go from here.

Relationships: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines

Content Warnings: Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, (Forced) Alcohol Use

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars

Word Count: 1,556

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: I don’t know yet whether I’ll post a second chapter. Perhaps! These gay little cartoon characters sure are fun to write.

Ford looked out over the sprawling destruction that was Gravity Falls. One arm crossed over his abdomen, in the other he nursed a cocktail glass topped off with swirling golden liquid. Bill was none too pleased if he came back and there was ever any left, but Ford could only stand so much of the stuff in one gulp. Besides, if he drank too quickly, the toll on his body was nothing to scoff at. He still had no idea what was even in it. Every time he had asked, Bill’s eye had simply creased in silent amusement, or else he had gone on talking like the man had never said anything.

Little fires dotted the landscape all over. Well, they weren’t so little, were they? Ford always made himself sick with these viewing sessions, but it was the only stimulating thing to do around here, aside from pinging out notes on the piano. And besides, why should he be spared from all the misery? If he was sheltered from it, up in his obsidian tower, the very least he could do was feel bad about it. He took another sip from his glass and grimaced. Great Scott, that was disgusting.

“Sixer?” The name sent unpleasant ripples across Ford’s nerves, but when he turned and saw his twin’s face, he let himself relax. A little.

“Stanley, you’re alright.”

“I better be. That was part of the deal and all…” Stan dusted off the sleeves of his suit, looking around. “Wouldn’t want you, uh… suffering for nothing.” His eyes traveled from the painting over the fireplace and then to the lavish, dark red robe Ford had cinched around his waist.

“Bill had a different flavor of suffering in mind for me.” As if to punctuate that statement, he tilted back his drink and nearly coughed it up again.

“Yeesh.”

“It tastes like bitter defeat,” Ford explained. He saw the face his brother was making. “I’m not being poetic, Stanley. He somehow made it taste like the actual poignant sting of failure. I would offer you to try some if I didn’t think it was slowly poisoning me.”

“Yeah, pass on that one. Why don’t you just dump it out in the sink? You do have a sink in here, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes, of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Ford’s expression softened, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. It’s just… He would know. By the time I’m to the bottom of one of these, I’m… different. For quite some time.”

Stan seemed to be snapping these pieces together in his head, the drink, the robe, the golden “wedding band” around Ford’s throat. Clearly, it was forming a picture he didn’t like. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

Ford eyed him and then let his gaze drop.

“Poindexter? You’ve been thinkin’ up a plan, right?”

“Of course I have! Every second of every hour, and I just keep hitting dead ends. He’s virtually omnipotent. I’m bound by contract to him, and even me thinking of ways to get out of it could give him a reason to renege on his end of the deal and hurt you! Or worse, the kids!”

“So that’s just it?! We lie down and roll over?!”

“I-I don’t know, Stanley. I’m mated.” Off his brother’s look, he added, “That’s a chess term.”

“I-I know it is! But could you not use it next time?”

Ford sank down onto the flesh couch. He hated that it hardly bothered him anymore. “Maybe this is it. Maybe… I’m meant to accept this fate, as punishment for—”

“Stop! Stop that! Do you hear yourself?” Stan strode forward until he was in his brother’s face. “You’re this pathetic? You hand the universe over to Bill Cipher on a silver platter and then give up?! You’re probably the only one smart enough to think up a way out of this mess, so how about less wallowing and more scheming?! Who cares what happens to me?!”

Ford screwed his eyes shut as he was berated. “I do! What kind of idiotic question is that?”

“And the kids, you want them to grow up in a world where Bill Cipher is king?!”

“Of course not, but you don’t know the things he’d do to them if I acted out, Stan! He’s not going to spare them because they’re children! He will torture them!”

Stan smacked the glass out of Ford’s hand. It shattered on the floor. Ford gaped. “Stan, you shouldn’t have—”

“I don’t care what he thinks! Neither should you!”

“Stop framing it like I’m on his side!”

“Aren’t you, now?!”

“I’m only trying to be pragmatic about our options! And thank God I am, or who knows where we’d all be right now?!”

Ford froze then, his muscles tensing at a familiar presence in the room.

“YIKES. Who knew the family reunion would get this VOLATILE?” Bill circled them with glee, his eye trained on them all the while. “HEY, I guess I’m part of the family now too, isn’t that right, Fez?” He looped an arm around a growling Stanley and wiggled his ring finger. “We’re brothers-in-law! Ha! Who would’ve thought?”

“Bill.” Ford’s breaths were painfully shallow. “I—”

“And Sixer!” Bill was suddenly in his face, his eye taking up the majority of Ford’s field of vision. “I had NO IDEA you thought about me this much when I’m away! That’s so sweet!” With no warning, his eye turned to a mouth and trailed saliva up Ford’s cheek and temple, leaving his glasses askew and his face scrunched up in distaste. The demon’s eye blinked back to normal. “WELL? Where’s my WELCOME HOME KISS?”

Once he had gathered himself enough, Ford leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Bill’s face, near the corner of his eye. Bill giggled like a little schoolgirl.

“OH NO. It looks like somebody was REAL CLUMSY! Let me refresh your drink, doll!” The shattered glass reassembled itself and floated into Ford’s hand. The liquid leached out of the carpet, pouring itself back into place. “You hardly drank any! Here, let me help with that.”

“Bill—” was all Ford managed before his head was tilted back and about half of the glass’s contents were dumped down his throat. He gagged and almost choked, but somehow got it all down. When he was allowed to hold his head upright again, he found it quite the effort to do so. His brain felt fuzzy and full of cotton. There was a weird glittery filter over the world. He felt far more relaxed, despite the pounding point of tension persisting at the back of his mind. Any worry was now faint, like a distant star.

“Ford!” Stan shouted, but it was difficult to care that that was happening.

“Mhm,” was all he said in response, finally letting his head loll and his eyes close. “Mmm.”

“He’s just so TENSE all the time,” Bill explained casually. “This is how I get him to LOOSEN UP. And hey, I guess it makes it harder for him to YELL at you too. You’re welcome.”

“You’re sick, you three-sided freak!” Stan shook his fist, almost like a threat, as if he could do anything to the dream demon. “I’ll end you!”

“DOING AWAY WITH THE PRETENSE, HUH?”

“Pretense,” Ford laughed for some reason, stretching himself across the full length of the couch and propping his head up with his forearm. This seemed to delight Bill, who began petting through the man’s hair.

“IT IS A PRETTY FUNNY WORD, ISN’T IT, IQ?” The demon swirled the drink a little and then brought it to Ford’s lips.

“Mhm,” Ford agreed, his response partially muffled by the glass as he sipped down more of the mysterious golden liquor.

“SEE? I enjoy the MENTAL SPARRING, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes that big brain of his gets in the way.” Bill affectionately tapped the side of Ford’s head as he let the quarter-full drink hang in midair. “ANYHOO.” He rotated to face Stan head-on; the movement was uncanny. “You should get back to the twins! Cook up another adorable scheme that’s doomed to fail! Sixer and I will watch from up here!”

“S’anley,” Ford slurred, shaking his head in protest, but he didn’t get very far in his thought before Bill pressed the rim of the glass to his lips again. “B- ill– please- I-I can… can’t…” The room was spinning now, violently, and he felt like he was going to be sick. It was like he was speedrunning a very bad hangover.

“SURE YOU CAN! Don’t worry, I won’t let you throw up.” Another pat on the head, and Ford groaned his distress as his throat bobbed and the last of the liquid disappeared down his esophagus.

“Unh… S’an… Stan…” His head dropped onto the couch, eyes struggling to focus.

“Sixer.” Stan started towards his twin, but before he could make it more than two steps, Bill snapped his fingers and Stan was gone, returned to where he’d come from. The demon sank onto the couch and arranged Ford until his head was on his lap (however much of a lap Bill had), fingers continuing to card through his hair.

“Come on. Don’t look at me like that, Fordsy. The relatives can come to visit another time.”

[honey-minded-hivemind]

In the Lovesick AU, Reader seemed to others the ideal, non-stereotypical yandere: a new age version. They were calmer, more down-to-earth, slow to anger, less territorial, and great with advice and sharing. They seemed like a darling's or yandere's dream friend or partner... Of course, Reader wasn't interested in romance, either, so that helped many see them not as a threat, but as a friend or buddy, a person that helped rather than stole from them or mocked.

Reader was an easy friend for Scott to make. They helped him after Duncan beat him up, they bandaged wounds, they even called Duncan out on what he did. And Reader just- they seemd to understand, having to the bigger person. Even when you didn't want to be that. And they seemed to enjoy listening to him, or offering him a hand when he had a project, or just mediating between the teens of the school who needed to calm down. They were refreshing. Nice. Trustworthy. (He never meant to bettay their trust, he was just worried about them-)

Rogue found Reader to be open-minded. They tried to stand up for others, even when it meant facing possible backlash. They had new ideas, such as letting darlings not register their secondary gender, or saying out loud how past treatment of darlings throughout history was vile, shortsighted, wicked, even when it made close-minded teachers or students glare at them. Yet Reader still tried to be nice. They weren't as abrasive as some thought. They brought candies to class to share, they made friendships as easy as a kindergartener would, tend tend accepted her as she was, not wanting her to change or hide. It felt nice.

Kitty and Kurt and Evan liked this kid. They were fun! They had funny jokes, sarcasm, clever one-liners, and when they were blunt, it was hilarious! But they also were serious when it came to treating others with respect. They tried to be polite, they were obedient (most of the time), and they didn't rile up anyone or start petty arguments. They just seemed to try to make things easier for others. It wasn't hard to like them.

Lance found it hard to like them at first. Someone who was that nice, or seemed to have nearly everyone not dislike them? How was that even real? Except... they didn't use it to hurt others. H*ll, they'd even snip or snarl at someone if they tried to joke cruelly about him, or fight him. They didn't have to. He wasn't helpless! But... they also didn't expect anything in return. They never did. So maybe it wasn't too hard to try and keep the peace around them, then...

Pietro liked this person. Oh, they're quite the odd one! They have confidence, or so it seems. They don't get in his or his team's way. And they even are a mutant, too! Ha! Too perfect! Except... fine, the X-Men also like them. But that isn't a big problem. He's not so sure though, that they're so perfect... Something just tells him, that maybe it's best to keep an eye on them...

Todd's cool with them. They like art, they compliment his art, they'll wax poetic about things like bones or ashes or mud, and he finds himself realizing they're right. He appreciates them noticing the smalle lr things in life. He likes how they find beauty in everything. And hey, they share snacks, so that's awesome, too. Maybe they're not so different...

[wingzie]

The Spirit of Army (In London)

Ten years ago I went to London for my first ever solo trip to attend the MCM Comic Con convention. In a poetic twist of fate, last weekend I went to London for my most recent solo trip. This included seeing the Christmas lights, something which I have always wanted to do. I also saw Benjamin Button at the theatre and attended two BTS events. In between all of this, there were also some very nice surprises!

Due to Storm Darragh, I was very delayed with my arrival into London. Thankfully I made it though and I quickly made my way to The Excel, where my hotel was. This was close to where I stayed in 2014, but thankfully transport links have improved a lot since then and it didn’t take me too long to get there. After dropping off my suitcase, I then made my way to the first BTS event for Taejin. Unfortunately I couldn’t stay long, so I just accepted my freebies and left. I had to leave early to get to the cinema, as a kind friend invited me to watch the Namjoon documentary for a second time with her. This was the first surprise of the trip and I was really happy to be able to watch it a second time. I was also in awe with just how amazing the movie looked and sounded there. It was incredible! We all aww’d or laughed at the same time, it was a lovely feeling whilst watching it together as a group.

After the movie, I walked around and admired the beautiful Christmas lights around London and then made it back to the theatre. The musical was incredible and I am still thinking about it two days later. I didn’t get back to my hotel until quite late and instantly fell asleep. I must have been very tired, because I didn’t wake up until nearly 9am the following morning. I got ready, packed and made my way to the second BTS event, which was Christmas Market themed! 

The person running the event and the other staff were lovely, as always and there was an extra *something* in the air that day. I don’t know if it’s because two members are back home or because it’s near to Christmas, but the vibes during this event were fantastic. I had so many fun conversations with the vendors and also other army at the event. I have mentioned before how some events can feel different, and I will remember this event for a really long time. It really made my heart full as I was walking around and talking to other Army. Plus buying lots of items! I was actually surprised how much Jikookery there was for sale there, but it made me really happy. 

On the way back to the station, another friend reached out to me so that we could meet up and she kindly gave me a book for my collection. We had a lovely chat until it was time for my train to leave. Sadly I stood for the entire train journey home, but it didn’t dampen my happiness. During this entire trip I was very lucky to have various friends check in on me or offer advice of where to go. They may have not been with me physically, but they were there with me in spirit and I am forever grateful for that. 

Ten years have passed since my first solo trip. I have changed in myself and my lifestyle has also changed. A lot has happened in those ten years, good and bad, but I am extremely happy where I am today. To live the way I am whilst enjoying BTS and spending time with my army friends. There is something special about it that I don’t think others would ever understand. There is a certain connection that flows between us and will continue to do so.

[lance-space-mommy]

Defending His Honor

Izuku was never one to be poetic. He was rather straight to the point and people often found the way he described or explained things as childish. Not that it necessarily was a bad thing, but he wasn’t known for methodical speeches.

Even when comforting someone or trying to solve a problem, he was blunt. There was no room for misunderstandings or disconnect. Izuku had a goal and if it involved helping people, he’d be direct.

Something changed when he and Katsuki started dating. Izuku found himself sitting around with his head in his hands mumbling the most tooth-rotting sayings. Maybe someone would find his thoughts childish, but oftentimes Izuku could make himself cry.

With every day that passed, the more grateful Izuku felt that Katsuki had chosen him. It was a genuine dream come true and Izuku wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still, Katsuki was Katsuki. He was brash, aggressive where it counted, and he could be pretty mean when the right buttons were pushed. Izuku loved it all much to the disgust of his classmates.

Izuku had been happily chatting with Todoroki and Iida when Kirishima bursted through the door. The entire class whipped their heads around to focus on the red head who seemed a bit too frantic for a school day.

“Guys! Bakugo is fighting an upper class man!” shouted Kirishima, already spinning on his heel to run off again.

The warm smile that Izuku had been wearing was long gone. As his heart sank further and further, his legs carried him faster.

Izuku could hear the commotion and sucked in a sharp breath when he saw Katsuki and some random older guy brawling in the hallway. Much to no one's surprise Katsuki was winning.

After fighting in a war and playing a major role in defeating the most notorious villain, a simple school fight was as easy as breathing. Still, Izuku didn’t want Katsuki straining his heart more than absolutely necessary.

“Kacchan!”

The crowd went silent and the explosion in Katsuki hand quickly vanished. It seemed that the boy Katsuki had been beating up truly deserved it. No matter what the douchebag did, Izuku would rather have Katsuki by his side during the schoolday instead of risking Katsuki getting caught texting during house arrest.

“Yeah, get your crazy fucking dog just like always,” scoffed the bully. He was taller than Katsuki, but his body was nowhere near as big as Katsuki’s. He was bleeding and still hadn’t learned his lesson.

Izuku raised a brow, stepping closer to the scene. “Dog? That rich coming from a mutt.”

A couple of gasped and faint cheers came from the busy halls. Whenever class 1-A would send a jab at Katsuki, Izuku never felt the need to defend his boyfriend. It was clearly all in good fun.

This loser was not doing any of this in good fun.

“Excuse me? How are you doing to side with the bad shit lunatic? He nearly killed me!” screeched the boy, rising to his feet sluggishly.

Watching his upperclassman slowly rise from the ground was rather awkward, but he felt no remorse for not helping. “Well it seems like to me that you instigated a fight.”

The douchebag let out a breathless, baffled scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” snapped Izuku quickly, letting his gaze harden as he crossed his arms. He could feel Katsuki’s piercing red eyes on him.

In all honesty, Izuku was shocked that Katsuki hadn’t spoken up yet. It wasn’t in his nature to let others fight his battles for him. Izuku couldn’t help but feel lightheaded defending his lover's honor.

“Of course a freak like you would enable another freak. Fine, let him go insane, he’ll dig his own grave then,” spat the student, clearly making a dig at Katsuki’s dying during the war. The jab was way too soon to be made in poor taste.

Izuku wanted to be ruthless. Sure his upperclassmen went low, but Izuku easily could go lower. Still, he wanted to take the high route. It wasn’t to protect himself or seem noble, but he wanted Katsuki to hear just how little Izuku cared about his attitude.

Izuku could feel his skin crawl at the memory of Katsuki dead on the battlefield, his lifeless body covered in blood. It hadn’t been a nightmare nor something Izuku could run away from.

There was no time to hold Katsuki’s body to take a moment to cry. He was fighting in a war  and that battle stopped for no one.

How dare some nobody upperclassman say Katsuki’s brashness was going to kill him when it already happened? How dare a future hero say something so cruel and inhumane. How dare someone who clearly should know better call the two people who saved the world “freaks”.

Izuku was quick to passionately shout, “I do not care for his sanity. I care for his happiness. I care for his soul.”

The hallway was silent, Izuku couldn’t help but cry. He was beyond happy that Katsuki was still alive. He struggled everyday to realize that Katsuki truly wanted him. He was so lucky and he would never let anyone attack Katsuki.

“Maybe you’ve never experienced hardships before or pushed past your own mindset to appreciate those around you, but I do. I question how someone as blind as you can be in a hero school,” hissed Izuku, feeling anger come to the front again.

Katsuki grinned, propping his arm on Izuku’s shoulder. “Yeah, there should be a rule against whiny bitches.”

Izuku lightly snacked Katsuki in the gut. “Way to kill the mood Kacchan.”

Aizawa came rushing down the hallway. It appears word traveled quickly that there had been a fight. All it took was for Aizawa to see tears in Midoriya’s eyes to shout.

“You, my office, now!”

Izuku smirked as the upperclassman had to rise to his feet and follow after a pissed off teacher. If the bully knew anything about UA, he knew Aizawa was not someone to mess with.

As the crowd quickly diffused from a lack of conflict, Izuku and Katsuki were left alone. Izuku sighed, his heart still pounding in his chest painfully hard.

“Izuku.”

“Hmm?”

Soft lips quickly pressed together. Izuku smiled at the welcomed sensation. Katsuki smirked as he pulled back from the kiss.

Without any words being used, Izuku knew Katsuki was charmed by Izuku’s loud confession. Izuku’s wobbly smile spread across his lips and he focused his gaze on the floor.

“I meant all of it,” confirmed Izuku.

“I know you did. Now never say anything like that in front of people again. I should be the only person that gets to hear those words,” grumbled Bakugo, slowly adjusting his bookbag over his shoulder.

“Okay.”

“Damn, these bitches gay,” yawned Jiro, giving away her position.

Uraraka smirked, enjoying the mortified expression on both Izuku and Katsuki. “I guess we shouldn’t have stuck around to check up on our friends.”

“Die!” yelled Katsuki, sensing off a warning explosion. Izuku watched fondly, ignoring the nagging in the back of his mind. Maybe my boyfriend is insane.

(Y'all I absolutely love Queen Charlotte I just had to write a story based off of a single quote)

[wystiix]

talk to me, please

❥ pairing: venti x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: Venti anxiously waits for a text from you to the point where he overthinks and nearly spirals into madness—will you please just fucking reply already? ❥ cw: crack, attempt at humour (kms), fluff maybe?? not proof-read so some stuff may not make sense lmao ❥ additional tags: lowkey kinda revolves around texting, venti's perspective, no pronouns for reader, modern setting, venti is a humanities major cuz i said so, does this count as socmed??? idk someone tell me i need to sleep it's 2am ❥ word count: 955 ❥ notes: bonjour hi hello kumusta. my foot is fucking asleep and my leg feels numb and my back hurts and i'm tired an it's 2am i have school i need to stop. okay so for context i was texting this girl and she wasn't replying so i went crazy, and then i thought "wait i could write a fic about this" and here we are. it was actually kinda fun writing this HAHAHAHAHA but i had to rush it cuz i have other stuff to do so uh it may be a bit quick. (see end notes after reading cuz i said so /j)

The clock ticked. It had been three hours. Venti stared at his phone, impatiently waiting for you just please, please, please reply.

Try to distract yourself, one may say, and mark these fucking words, he did.

He tried everything. From listening to music to doing the dishes, to cleaning his room. Oh, but that was not all.

For the past few hours, he reorganised his notes, desk and playlist, walked at least twenty laps around his dorm, ate all his snacks from the pantry like a fatass, cleaned up his closet and planned what he was going to wear a week from now, learned a new song on his guitar and even counted every single one of his ceiling and wall tiles.

There were exactly 146 tiles in his dorm. That number now forever haunts him.

Practically exhausted from being way too productive than he usually was, he slumped down on his bed and opened the app he used to text you. There was still no reply.

Venti buried his face into his pillow, letting out a groan of frustration.

It was incredibly frustrating and it nearly drove him crazy. Were you seriously that busy? Normally you would respond within a span of seconds, a few to thirty minutes at the latest. But fucking three hours?

He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. You both had been talking for over a week—he couldn’t afford to mess this up. 

But what if you suddenly lost interest? Oh, it felt far too early for that. Was he finally going to have that Mitski experience? Was he going to be those depressed poets who poured their hearts out through their ink on the paper when a single minor inconvenience happened to them? 

You were killing him. And it was not softly. Venti felt as if his heart was shattering into a million pieces.

Was this his destiny, his punishment for choosing to pursue such a depressing major in humanities?

How cruel the universe is.

He sighed in defeat, opening his notes app to write and exude a poetic, Shakespearean ballad about this before his phone suddenly buzzed.

Ding! You have received a new message from [Name]!

Holy shit has his fingers never moved so quickly before in his entire life, clicking on the notification faster than he could blink. Your sudden message almost gave him a heart attack, for fuck’s sake.

So much for living and breathing Shakespeare.

Oh, how his heart fluttered. A simple message, yet it had him forget about his lament just a few seconds prior and he found himself swooning, practically glazing your message as if it was the most fascinating piece of literature he had ever laid eyes on.

Venti paused, rereading your message 25 million times, unsure how to reply. Should he respond right away, or would that be too eager? He didn’t want to come off as desperate, but three hours of waiting had been excruciating. Perhaps he should wait a minute or two… No, that would be too long!

God he wanted to punch himself in the face for clicking that notification too fast, now he has to think of a response on the spot or else he’d look like an asshole.

He started to type out a response.

k, i see.

He paused, immediately deleting the message with a shake of his head. Too dry, he has to sound interested. I understand! Would you like to shift the conversation to a less taxing topic? Delete. Too formal. LMAOOO dw dw, what was it about anyway? Delete. ahh hope the essay didn’t stress u out too much!! Delete. i’m madly in love with u Delete. Had he sent that he would find the nearest cliff and leap off.

Venti sighed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Why was this so complicated? He wanted to sound interested, but not desperate; casual, but not indifferent. He ended up typing something simple and hitting send before he could second-guess himself again. Sometimes, being simple is the ultimate sophistication.

He fought the urge to chuck his phone across the room. Shit, was that too casual? How long were you going to reply this time?

There were immediate blinking dots.

The tension in his chest eased as he found himself giggling at your comment. He realised the way he was acting earlier was ridiculous, maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Venti felt the weight lift off his shoulders. The conversation was back on track, and he could breathe easy again. Just as he was about to put down his phone, the blinking dots appeared again, and he immediately reverted his attention back to it.

Another message.

What.

What the fuck. Was this real?

He put his phone face down, allowing everything to sink in.

What the fuck. Coffee? Tomorrow? With you? Did you just ask him out? Was this real? Was he real? Were you real?

The anxiety that lingered within slowly ebbed away as he stared at the ceiling tiles—the same tiles that haunted him earlier. However, they now seemed oddly comforting.

“Holy shit.”

Gods above, was this a blessing? Maybe his love life wasn’t so hopeless after all.

Venti’s gaze drifted to his closet, where he noticed that same outfit he intended to wear a week from now. A cozy, soft-beige sweater with a hint of cream peeked out from behind a row of neatly hung clothes, gently draping over a pair of charcoal chinos.

He grinned like an idiot, giggling and kicking his feet like a little child who just received their favourite toy. A string of “oh my god, oh my god” repeated endlessly in his head like a loop.

And for once, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

❥ notes: hi so yes. yes i did what he did here. yes i counted my tiles, but it was my bathroom tiles instead. there are like 121 tiles in the bathroom, including the hidden ones. in this fic i just added the average number of tiles to that number which was like 25 tiles??? lowkey idk i just estimated. and yes i did plan my outfit a week from now, which is for church. yes i cleaned my room. yes i walked more than ten laps around my living room. i was restless. yes i was productive as hell. lmfao by the time i was done with the fic she replied to me so yay!! win!! also pls get the "you were killing him and it's not softly" reference i hope someone at least gets it or else i'm gonna cry myself to sleep. yeah anyways im gonna sleep gn <3

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Renaissance Faire

Alien: Where are we going and why is there a sack over my head?

Human: I told you. Human: Our time traveling technology is top secret and we just can’t let anyone see it. Alien: I still call Hush-dush on your claim of time traveling- Human: *Removes sack* Human: Welcome, to the 1300’s of human society! Alien: *Sees surroundings and gawks* ---------------------------

Human: Mace or morning star? Alien: BOTH! ------------------------

Alien: Why do your people dress in metal clothing? Human: It’s called armor and meant to protect us. Alien: Protect you from what? Human: *Points* From that. Alien: *Turns to see another armored human approaching someone from behind and then wailing on them with mace* Alien: Does that happen often? Human: Often enough my friend. ----------------------------

*Pair sit down at table* Human: *shouts at bar keep* Two muttons and ales for us. Alien: What the florp is “Mutton”? Human: *Whispers* I have no idea. --------------------------

Alien: I think I see other human time travelers. Human: What? Alien: Yes. Alien: They carried scanning equipment and were talking into communicators. Human: Oh god damnit. Alien: You know them? Human: Yeah; they’re a bunch of nerds following a prime directive to kill fun. ---------------------------

Alien: So the purpose of the sport is to ride atop beasts and try to knock your opponent off with a wooden toothpick? Human: Pretty much. Alien: That must be the stupidest sport I have ever seen. *silence* *Silence* *silence* Human: You want to join in don’t you? Alien: Yes please, very much. --------------------------

Alien: Where are the fire breathing flying lizard creatures? Human: You mean dragons? Alien: Yes, those things. Human: *Thinking fast* Human: We wiped them all out in 1100, so you won’t see any here. Alien: Darn. *Giant mechanical dragon slowly passes by breathing fire* Human: Oh no…. a survivor! -----------------------------

Alien: Who are these brightly dressed creatures? Human: Fairies, faye, goblins, trolls, etc. Alien: Why didn’t I see any of them in the future? Human: Yeah, after the Disney hunts of 83 nearly all mythical creatures were driven to extinction. -----------------------------

Human: Crossbow or regular bow? Alien with four arms: BOTH! -----------------------------

Human: Here, I bought you some clothes to disguise yourself in. Human: *Hands over clothes* Alien: Why are my clothes for a female? Human: Aren’t you one? Alien: No. Alien: Can you not tell? Human: No but that’s a good thing. Human: Most people in this time period can’t either. ------------------------------

Alien: Why do your people of this time speak so poetically? Human: Our language was more wordy back then. Alien: Think you mean more eloquent. Human: Shut up you scrub. -------------------

Human: Sword or dagger? Alien: Bo- Human: You can’t have both! Human: It doesn’t work that way, just pick! Alien: *Pauses* Alien: I pick dog armor. Human: ……….. Human: Why? Alien: It is covered in spikes and more dangerous than half the weapons I have seen today.

[agrlsname]

Thank you @therealsaintscully for the tag! I'm soon about to post what might be my very last fic, so it's quite fitting to look back on my journey now.

How many works do you have on ao3?

38 – all Johnlock, except for one GO fic. On New Year's Eve I will post number 39!

What’s your total word count?

371,360 (will soon top it off with another 221 words ;))

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

What Friends Do (by FAR), Who I Really Am (personal fave), The General Idea, Coldness/Heat, Tomorrow's Song

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

At first I responded to every single one! And I still try to respond to every single person. But now, I sometimes only respond to the last one if it's a reader who's commented on every chapter and I get all the comments at once. I like staying connected to the readers, that's one of the most fun parts about fandom!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

It has to be This Is Your Song. I mean, there's another one within a series that end in an angsty cliffhanger, but MCD surely has to take the prize?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Oh my, nearly all of them have happy endings – so what would count as happier than happy..? Maybe it's actually the one that isn't posted yet – stay tuned for the resolution of the New Year's Kiss series!

Do you write crossovers?

Nope. I've written a fusion though (Johnlock and Moulin Rouge!).

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yup. Some people get really angry at John in What Friends Do and they take it out on me. It's interesting because many MANY others adore the story with all their hearts! I even wrote a sequel from John's POV just to try to get people to understand, but the haters didn't understand anyway.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Even though at the beginning I said I'd never, half of my works are now rated E or M. What kind? Um, is "emotional, gay sex" a genre?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Many of them, into five different languages! Coolest thing ever.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I'm too pedantic for that. I've loved working with my beta on some poem translations, though, that The Sky is Full of Fiddles is based on.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

38 fics – you all know it's Johnlock, right? There are others that I love, but nothing can ever compare.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I don't have WIPs! I'm too much of a control freak and perfectionist when it comes to writing – I want to be able to change the beginning when I'm writing the ending. I don't even have unpublished WIPs – I hate the idea of leaving works unfinished. If I was still in those first years of writing frenzy, when I was single and didn't have a child, I'd have expanded on This Time – but as it is, I knew that I wouldn't have the time to do it justice. So I purposely ended on a cliffhanger that would still allow it to stand on its own the way it is.

What are your writing strengths?

Emotions, according to my beta! If you ask me, I'd say describing things – often emotions, I suppose – in new, poetic ways that play on different senses and therefore make them immediate. It's something I love reading myself, anyway, so it's something I've been practicing for... well, decades now. I'd like to think I've gotten at least somewhat good at it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm weirdly bad at coming up with the small details that aren't important, but needed. A recent example is I needed a character to text another with an invented problem to try to get him to come over. It wasn't at all important what the problem was, but it also couldn't be just anything; it had to be in line with his character. I could not for the life of me come up with this problem myself – eventually my husband did it for me. So those kinds of details in my stories are rarely from my own brain!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Hmm, well, I've tried not to do that. As a reader I find it annoying to have to look things up, or scroll down to the notes. I have three fics in which characters aren't English; in This Is Your Song I added a couple of "Bonjour"s for flavour, which is about as far as my own French knowledge reaches... In the Fiddles series they're Swedes and speak my mother tongue, but I've written everything in English except for the words that English doesn't have (like for example "polska", a kind of dance), and at the very end, some song lyrics that are then translated into English in the end notes that come immediately after. I did want to add that song for flavour, but I didn't want it to be annoying.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnlock! I started in the aftermath of season 4 back in January 2017 and then couldn't stop.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I'm wondering whether I will come back to fic writing at a later point, but for another fandom. I've long wanted to write more for GO, although I already have written one fic. It would probably be a lot of fun to write for OFMD too. Doctor Who maybe? I don't know, it intimidates me to write for a new fandom where I don't yet know the characters as well as I know Sherlock and John.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This question is too cruel! There are so many of them that I love. Maybe I have to say The Sky is Full of Fiddles, after all – it holds such a special place in my heart for many reasons that go beyond the story itself (although that's true for several fics). Other faves are Your Daughter, The Zebra Sheets and of course Who I Really Am, which I'm liking enough to turn it into a novel I'm now trying to get published. See, I couldn't pick one!!

I'm on Tumblr way too sporadically to have any idea of who's already done this and who hasn't, so I don't dare tag anyone... Feel free to take it and tag me if you feel like it!

[cruyuu]

out of all the official art featuring sukuita, do you have a favorite? (or maybe a top 3?)

Hii anon!

I love them all tbh. It's like asking me to choose if I like breathing air or inhaling it. Like it's the same thing. Still tho, since you asked, I'll try to rate them. Key word: try since all of them are Mona Lisa's to me (special, lovely and unique in their own way <3).

MC vs. Villain (but lowkey sexual)

Changed the trajectory of everyone's lives when it dropped. THE art. THE piece. I am still obsessed with it. Sukuna touching the inner part of Yuuji's wrist, feeling his heartbeat.... FOR WHAT LIKE WHAT WAS THE REASON FOR THE WRIST FEEL EXPLAIN.

Yeah. That's my sukuita. Weird as hell "enemies" who don't beat each other to death, they just use that excuse to touch each other so no one pays attention to it.

2. The Wheel Turns

The poetic piece and hence it's my second fav. I know the most agreed on thing for normal fans (aka not sukuita shippers) is the Dharma wheel (cue deep dive into Hinduism) but to me this holds connection to the never-changing cycle these two were stuck in. The "cycle" that Yuuji breaks at the end of the manga by killing the unkillable, befriending the avoidable and loving the unlovable (Sukuna). The opposite forces which clash and cannot combine but finally do combine at the end, achieving harmony. Essentially, becoming one (<3333)

Orrrr, because I'm insane, it could also be about them finding each other again and again. The wheel which keeps on turning, again and again, represents something which is repetitive and has no end and to say that they (Sukuna and Yuuji) have no end is sweet. It could also be about many other things but these are just off the top of my head since if I think about this image too long, this'll be a whole 30k post.

3. Back to Back

Fun fact about this little image is that it used to be my favorite for a long time before the #1 would drop. What I love about this image the most is the fact that they're standing as equals even if turned away from each other (representing their relationship and their vastly differing viewpoints) and considering this is an older piece it just serves as foreshadowing that the only equals they could ever have is each other but considering they're turned away from each other, they have no way of ever knowing that and seeing that. Also could be that they know but refuse to acknowledge it (how I interpret it).

Total opposites + Yuuji looking drop dead gorgeous and serious + Sukuna in a kimono are all just bonuses. This piece cemented my love for them and drove me into how I feel about them now so it's also special for that too <3

4. ENEMY

This could've been a #3 easily and also #1 easily since... the throat grab, the direct eye contact... Have mercy on me Gege. S1 sukuita had me in a chokehold way stronger than the one Sukuna and Yuuji have here tho, that's for sure (which is saying a lot lmfao). Also... I always found it weird how Sukuna's hand seems not to be gripping but nearly... holding... Yuuji chin?? Or maybe that's me high on them obsessed over each other nvm

5. Divine Black Flash (see what I did there?)

Signature moves (aka abilities) plus them next to each other twinning and winning. Also one of my faves but the others were way more symbolic so had more of a grip on me but this one slays too. All of them do, don't take my list too personally y'all.

And there you go anon! Thank you for the ask <3

[zenkindoflove]

do you have any eris centric fic recommendations 👀

Hi anon! Thanks for reaching out.

Since you didn't mention any pairings, I interpreted this ask to mean you were either agnostic to pairings or wanting Gen Eris fic recs. So I decided to do a list of Gen Eris fics and also call out the other writers in this fandom who have written Eris x Male OC as a central storyline in their fics. I assume if you're asking me, it means you're familiar with my Erixius fics, and I'm gonna guess you'd be into reading other Eris x Male OC fics too! These fics are amazing and don't get nearly enough attention that they deserve.

Eris x Male OC

Fini by tessabeth (sorry not sure if on tumblr) This one-shot is about a young Eris who enters training as a gentleman and courtier, and falls for his instructor Olivier. Eris is so naive and hopeful in this fic. And Olivier is lovely and beautiful. It played like a movie in my head.

His Father's Song by @the-darkestminds By one of my really great friends, this one-shot also explores young love for a young Eris, who meets another Autumn Court boy by the name of Liam. They become best friends and slowly fall in love. Julia is known for her angst so make sure you get lots of tissue for this one. It punched me in the throat.

A Court of Burns and Truths by @summerbummin This multichapter fic was one of the first other Eris x Male OC centric fics I found. Rapheal is rambunctious and caring, and a healer Peregryn from Dawn Court. This fic also features a lot of other characters and fun pairings too!

A Court of Embers and Starlight by @olenvasynyt This is technically Lucien-centric, but this multi-chapter fic features several Autumn Court characters including Eris-focused chapters as well as Eris with a Male OC love interest. He's only just been introduced, but I'm so excited where Dana goes with him and Ensel. So far it sounds like they had an angsty/forbidden style relationship.

Gen Eris

A Blood That Burns by @fourteentrout This is a lovely one-shot that explores the relationship between Eris and his mother. It's nuanced, poetic, and doesn't flatten their mother/son relationship. I still think about this fic often because it had such a big impact on me!

This ain't no love that's guiding me by @lovely-vanserra-sunshine This two-parter explores a younger Eris, and the dynamics of his early days when he enters the courtship scene as the heir to Autumn. I love the vunerability of young Eris in this fic. @lovely-vanserra-sunshine also has a multichapter Eris-centric fic called Fanning Flames which I still need to read, but I've heard many many wonderful things and after reading this fic I'm sure it will also be what you're looking for.

[pinazee]

Bounty Hunters!

I just find it so adorable when a kid has bright ass food stains on them. Its like the essence of childhood or something more poetic haha also, this might sound insane, but this is the first ep i could feel that shawn and gus had been friends since childhood. Possibly because they’re nearly wearing the exact same shirts and at the same steps so the parallel is a lot more obvious. Like it just clicked in my brain or something.

I just really liked this shot. That is all.

Shout out to James and Dulés’ stunt double

This is one of those times i don’t envy actors. This looks so uncomfortable. Also, i can’t decide if it’s naivety or arrogance that Shawn would think he could go into this bar and be okay?? I guess you can assume that Shawn knew Tancana would stop them before they caused any serious damage but that one guy was about to hit him with a chain, and its one thing to go into this on your own, its another to bring your friend with you.

A+ scene work from Corbin Bernsen here lol

This is what I do to get my dog to stop eating her toys. Doesn’t work with her either.

One of the few times Shawn kind of loses it with Gus and has to recollect himself haha. Like he’s been frustrated sure, but he usually applies some sort of manipulation. But i really like this scene because usually its Gus thats frustrated with Shawns behavior.

Sidenote: about the super sniffer. I don’t think its that he can smell things others can’t, because Shawn usually points it out and can recognize it, i think the super sniffer is that Gus can break the smell down and put a name to it. Like the gardenias in the perfume, the ginger blossoms in the kangaroo paste. Shawn just knows its kangaroo paste. Idk, i had to think about it at least haha

What a goof. But also, ive started watching Gus while shawns doing his breakdowns and he’s like miming beside him haha if i see it in a later ep i’ll gif it.

Its kind of insane that Bird hands over Tancana and this supposedly alleviates Juliets guilt? Like i get the line she says we all make mistakes as a way of saying Juliet’s forgiven herself, but um, she didn’t really do anything. I wish instead they would have had Shawn notify the cops where he’d be, have lassie ignore him per usual, but let juliet take off on her own (against orders) and save them from bird that way (possibly at the parking garage). This way we can see that she can still rely on her gut and it isn’t handed to her by shawn, kind of like the If You’re So Smart ep, when he solved her case and its somehow a win for her. Its still a sweet gesture that Shawn was cool semi-risking his life (and gus’s for that matter) so she can “save” them and get her good reputation back, even if it doesn’t quite make sense haha

The near kiss was perfection! I think a full kiss would have been too soon, particularly because Juliet was pretty vulnerable just then and it wouldn’t feel right. But the fact that it made juliet nervous enough to start dismantling her gun like she’d been doing all day- fantastic way to gain insight into to her mind and give us the audience hope that the ship would exist. She seems pretty conflicted about him (i think mainly because she doesn’t date coworkers?). I mean, from her perspective, she only know him as immature, irresponsible to a degree, who relentlessly flirts, BUT at the same time is incredibly kind and fun. I would have some hesitation too. Being kind and fun will only get you so far, in my book at least. I also need someone i can rely on to do the boring grown up stuff so im not solely responsible and Shawn just doesn’t come across as someone who can do that (yet). And not to spoil it, but in the bank robbery ep, we learn Juliet likes them mature.

okay. I don’t think this is going to be a popular opinion (just to prepare you mentally) cause i believe everyone loves this scene, and don’t get me wrong i love it too, i just think it doesn’t quite fit in the ep? Like i know shawn was flirty with jules the whole time, and he’s trying to impress her, but it was always jokey and they didn’t really have a solid heart to heart moment, and it pulls away from what Juliet was going through. I think if he’d consoled her a bit, let her know that a mistake is inevitable and assuming that she wouldn’t make any was setting her up to fail, that she was still the smartest, and bravest cop on the force and she should remember that the next time that voice in her head says differently, then he could maybe go for the kiss. Maybe. I think I would’ve preferred it if he’d just consoled her and she was the one who went to kiss him but changed her mind at the last second and thats how we get close talking. Because she wants to kiss him, but at the end of the day she’s pragmatic.

(I just want to quickly add that i by no means think i can write these better. This is just fun for me to put my own little spin on it. I also know other factors go into making a show (time, budget etc) so there are things writers wanted to include that would have improved their eps but said factors forced them to make changes. I don’t want these little opinionated changes i’d make to come across as mean spirited or arrogant. They’re more like responses to a writing prompt if that makes sense.)

[mothwingwritings]

can you do Oliva hc and smut pls, i read your valentine post about him and i'm just a smiling mess because of it

Waaaaaaaaaah TYSM darling!!! I love Biscuit!!! ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ ) Top tier man and one of my favorite Baki boys!!! I have a few fics in mind for him, but here’s just some cute little stuff in the meantime!

WARNINGS: Mentions of sexy stuff under the cut, so 18+ only, but the rest is pretty tame.

Biscuit was SUPER nervous to meet your family/friends for the first time. He holds you in such high regard that he was terrified of the impression he would make on your loved ones. He’s a nice, charming, wealthy gentleman-but none of that changes that fact that he’s a convict, and he was deeply concerned that those close to you would not accept him as your partner for that reason alone. He plans to be by your side till your dying day, so he wants the people most important to you to understand how strong his love is and realize he is not a threat, but a protective force.

I know this is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I really love the idea of a poly relationship with you, Biscuit, and Maria. If Maria is still in the picture, I imagine Biscuit has a very hard time staying away when it’s just the two of you hanging out. Though he’s happy neither of you are alone, he wants to be a part of what you are doing SO BAD it nearly drives him mad. The two of you could literally just be hanging out watching TV and he’ll be hitting up your phones nonstop asking what you guys are up to, talking about how much he wishes he were with you, sending pouty face selfies waxing poetic about how much he misses his beautiful loves. You and Maria definitely gang up to tease him, replying with suggestive texts or hinting at saucy interactions (even if literally nothing is going on) to rile him up. It’s all in good fun, but you do make sure to give him plenty of love and attention as soon as he comes back to you.

Even with how big he is, he loves being the little spoon.  It doesn’t matter how much smaller than him you may be, he melts when you hold him in your arms. He’s not a religious man, but he can believe there is a heaven when he’s drowning in your embrace, because he’s found it in your hold. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Biscuit is not one to argue with you, and usually concedes to spats or disagreements with you pretty quickly. In the rare instances where he does need to put his foot down, he feels so guilty about it afterwards that he lavishes you with so much affection and so many treats that he ends up negating any stern punishment he had previously tried to impose upon you.

He gets really grumpy when other men flirt with you. He knows you are beautiful, charming, funny, and smart, so it’s only natural you will catch other people’s eye… but that doesn’t mean he has to like it or accept it. You are HIS and everyone needs to know and respect that. If he is around and sees someone eying you or chatting you up, he will get extremely handsy and overbearing to make said person back off. If they do not, there will be a problem. :)

On the flip side, if someone is rude or mean to you in any way he will outright beat their ass. They honestly may die.  No one talks shit about his baby, and he’ll pummel their sorry ass until they realize just how bad they fucked up… And then beat them a little more, just for good measure. ₍꒢  ̣̮꒢₎

He loves going for long drives with you, especially when it’s on his motorcycle. There is nothing quite like tearing down the highway, wind whipping full speed, just you, him, and the open road ahead. He loves the feel of you r chest pressed flush against his broad back, loves it even more when he speeds up and you grip on even tighter. Sometimes he’ll even pull a surprise trick to get you to squeeze him even harder, but he’ll feel bad if he scares you too much. He always wants you to have just as much fun as he is.

He is definitely the kind of guy that always wants to be matching you, if not outright in the same outfit, then in corresponding fits. He will go out of his way to find out what you plan on wearing for the day, just so his outfit can complement yours. Even if you personally find that kind of thing embarrassing, he will make the saddest puppy eyes imaginable at you until you give in and dress up with him. He always takes pictures of your matching sets-they flood any social media he may have.

NSFW Headcanons under the cut!

He is EXTEMELY vocal in bed-You make him feel so fucking good that he just can’t help himself. Whether its moans, dirty talk, praise, screams of pleasure, he’s not shy about letting you know just how excited he is to be making love to you. He’s so loud other inmates can most definitely hear it, but no one has the balls to say anything to him about it (except for maybe one Jun Guevara who will give you massive shit about it should he ever happen upon you alone in the prison, laughing while doing so over what a pretty shade of red you are turning).

He has a huge praise kink, both giving and receiving. If you were to purr in his ear that he is a good boy he would probably cum right then and there, no further foreplay required. He loves showering you in compliments during the entirety of the love making, and he’ll dreamily relay to you how gorgeous you look stuffed with his cock, how pretty you sound whimpering in pleasure, how stunning you are in the afterglow. He’s so overcome with his attraction to you he could speak on it endlessly and still only scratch the surface of how you make him feel.

Whenever he has to travel, he’ll take mementos of you with him on his trip. Most of them are wholesome, but he always makes sure to bring one that no one else can know of. More often than not it’s a pair of used undergarments he pocketed, plucked off your body himself the last time you made love. He can’t have your body there with him in person, but he can at least have this small token with him to help him along when he’s feeling in the mood. He’d often call you to initiate a conversation, working himself up as the discussion grew increasingly raunchy, stroking himself against the soft silk of your panties until he spilled himself all over the delicate fabric. It wasn’t nearly as good as making love to you in person, but it would work in a pinch.

Biscuit loves to take his time with you in the bedroom, refusing to rush even if you are pressed for time. It’s maddening how slow he is, the languid ghosting of his hands over your body mixed with the leisurely kisses he plants over every inch of you is enough to drive you to the point of insanity. You beg for him to stop teasing you, pleading for him to pick up the pace and let you cum, but that only makes him go slower. It’s the only time he’s ever ‘mean’ to you, but he wants to drag your pleasure out as long as possible. He gets so lost in you that he wants the moment to drag on forever, and he’ll do all he can to elongate the process to try and make that a reality.

To Biscuit, you are royalty, and he will never treat you as anything but. Your pleasure always comes first to him, and he gets majorly embarrassed when he comes before you do. Poor guy, it’s just as torturous (if not more so) to be in his shoes when you two are fucking, and it takes all his strength to not be overtaken by the ardor he feels for you. Looking down on you as you are writhing in pleasure, your face contorted in lust, wantonly begging for his love… He deserves an award for how long he is able to hold back before he completely loses control.