#THIS WOULD MAKE A GOOD FIC TITLE

[101flavoursofweird]

The Pariah and the Prodigy

I love how Willow and Gus parallel each other as characters. They have a lot in common (as BFFs often do) but they’re still they’re own people and they bring out the best in each other.

Willow was a powerful plant magic user, but she started off in the wrong track studying abominations, as her dads believed this would offer her more future opportunities. This— along with being bullied for years— stunted Willow’s confidence, her happiness and her true potential. She gained the undeserved nickname ‘Half-a-Witch Willow’, just because she was considered a late bloomer with her magic. Amity shunned Willow when they were little because Willow was viewed as a ‘weakling’.

Gus can be seen as a parallel to Willow. He was known as prodigy from a young age— at least, when it came to illusions. His father hoped he would become a master illusionist. Gus skipped a couple of grades and took on more advanced classes. Other students sought Gus out for his talents and acted like his friend, only to take advantage of him. This led Gus to believe that people would only want to be around him if they had an ulterior motive.

Gus joined the Human Appreciation Society and in time, he became the club’s president. He was concerned when his title of president we threatened. He admitted to feeling overlooked and ignored in the past. 

Gus seemed to project an air of confidence, but deep down, he was insecure about his youth, his abilities and his apparent nativity. He definitely had a case of Imposter Syndrome, where everyone thought he was smart, but Gus still doubted himself. (Because who is Gus, without his abilities? Who is Gus, without his title?)

When Willow met Gus— after he had been tricked into doing another student’s homework— she helped him calm down, saying that she sometimes got ‘wrapped up her own thoughts too’. Willow kept Gus out trouble (like when she disapproved of with his plan to bring the banned Luz to school, or saved he and Luz from the hungry locker), while occasionally going along with his schemes. 

In return, Gus stood up for Willow. He didn’t scream in the face of Willow’s bullies, but rather, he quietly defied them, like when he swiped Willow’s hair clip back from Boscha. By the time the club fair rolled around, Willow set up Hexside’s first flyer derby team. Sure, Gus joined her on the team, but the other members were drawn in by Willow’s speech and Hunter’s flying skills. Gus warned Hunter not to mess things up for Willow, as this had been in tough year for her. Gus had experience of fake friends and he didn’t want the same thing to happen to Willow.

I’ve occasionally seen people wondering why Hunter was the one who got to snap Gus out of his in illusion nightmare in Labyrinth Runners. Why couldn’t it be Willow? We’d seen her calming Gus down in a memory with her breathing technique— something that Gus passed on to Hunter and Hunter tried to use again on Gus, but he just ended up making Gus laugh. In a way, Willow did save Gus…

But I think the reason why she couldn’t do this in the moment was because Gus needed an outsider’s perspective. Willow is his best friend, so of course she would say what Gus needed to hear. Gus had only met Hunter once before Labyrinth Runners. What did Hunter know about Gus then? Gus is Willow’s friend… He uses his staff differently to everyone else when flying… He felt like Hunter stabbed him in the back… But until Labyrinth Runners, Hunter didn’t know the true extent of Gus’s illusion powers. He didn’t help Gus because of his abilities. He helped Gus because Gus helped him (because Gus is a good person) and Hunter wanted to return the favour… and maybe he relates to Gus with the whole trust issues thing.

[hueseok]

okay here me out... i have this plot in mind about theater actor!bts member who recently had a scandal and is now desperate to redeem his reputation by aiming to play the lead in an upcoming korean adaptation of a famous broadway show. he’s confident, he’s positive that he will be cast because his manager seriously knows how to pull some strings to make things work for him (also ‘cause despite the scandal, he really is extraordinary at what he does)—until he discovers that the director of the show is going to be your father, and suddenly all hope is gone.

because unbeknownst to many, you and him used to date (very secretly) at the start of his career, and he does specifically remember you yelling at him to ‘never show your fucking face to me again!’ after he dumped you over call. he wants to believe that considering it’s been a decade since that incident happened, surely you wouldn’t be that petty and immature to hinder the restoration of his career by using your nepo baby powers and influencing your dad’s mind about his decision regarding the final cast.

wrong. turns out you are petty and immature still, and now his manager is convincing (forcing) him to ask you for your forgiveness / be in your good graces so that he can have the part. normally, he wouldn’t have a problem lowering his ego and pride if it’s for the betterment of his career—however, you’re determined to make his life a living hell, and he finds himself wanting to burn himself alive instead of sucking up to you who’s really starting to get on his nerves lmao.

ANYWAYS, i kinda have taehyung or jimin or seokjin in mind for this??? i’m considering jk too but i just posted a fic of him so i kinda want to do this fic for a different member hehe,, please tell me ur thoughts if i should pursue this idea or not bc i want to write it but i have a feeling it’ll take so freaking long to write since it should have proper pacing and all that shit but yeah 😫

UPDATE: this has materialized to this drabble series!

[kurikorso]

the deer prince and the golden doe

from chapter 34 of Salt00's fic Chick Magnet

please click for HD tumblr is killing this one

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 7

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

((TW for this part; period typical slurs and internalized homophobia. Read the tags before clicking readmore if you want the details))

Steve has been a porcelain doll for seven weeks when disaster strikes.

"What is that," Jeff says, because even though the words are in an order which would suggest that it's a question, the tone of voice Jeff uses decidedly is not questioning.

"What is whaaa-AH! Nothing! It's nothing!" Eddie, who was torso deep into his closet throwing things around to find his backup amp cord, turns to look at what Jeff was talking about, and is now launching himself across his room to stand between Jeff and Porcelain Steve. Porcelain Steve, who Eddie had lain on his bed, propped slightly on a pillow, headphones carefully perched on his little head, hooked to a cassette player currently playing the first hour of last week's Top 40 countdown that Eddie had taped for him (all three hours of it, leaving out the chatter of the radio show host. He'd had to use two tapes to get it all).

"Nothing sure looks a lot like a doll in headphones, Munson," Jeff has an amazing poker face but Eddie's certain he can see a bit of judgement underneath the carefully blank expression Jeff is wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking abo- hey! Hey, no, no, don't!" Eddie tries to bodily block Jeff when he moves forward and the two end up wrestling, a match that Eddie almost wins, if not for the hazard that is his messy room. He gets Jeff walked almost to the door before he steps wrong on something, ankle rolling and sending him down sideways. He clutches at Jeff but can't make purchase and Jeff, the bastard, does fuck-all to try and catch him. Instead, Jeff leaps out of arm's length, then lunges onto the bed as Eddie collapses to his floor.

Eddie frantically tries to stand and, in his haste, ends up with his feet tangled in a pile of dirty laundry and that sends him crashing down again, this time forward onto his hands and knees, so he gives up on standing and crawls the few short feet to the bed, finally looking up to see that the damage has been done.

Jeff has picked up Steve, holding him inches from his own face, eyes squinted in suspicion. Eddie is frozen, horrified and afraid, and can't bring himself to do anything as Jeff examines Steve closely, turning him around, poking his torso, flipping him upside down to examine his shoes more thoroughly. It's only when Jeff reached for the shirt, pinching the hem of it between two fingers that Eddie kicks back into action.

He lunges up, one knee on the bed, leaning over to grab Steve and yank him from Jeff's grip. His first instinct is to throw Steve over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind mentality, but as soon as he does, he realizes his mistake and twists, lunging to catch Steve in midair. He does manage to catch Steve, but it sends him bouncing off his dresser and almost back to the floor before he manager to regain his balance, where he proceeds to cradle Steve to his chest, which is heaving from the adrenaline, wrestling match, and subsequent dive after Steve.

Jeff is giving him a concerned look but something else piques his interest; Jeff reaches over and picks up the headphones, holding them up to one ear. His face goes through every emotion a human could possibly experience in less than fifteen seconds as he listens to whatever track was at the forty-ish minute mark on the Top 40 countdown.

Slowly, Jeff lowers the headphones, letting them drop to the bed before he gives Eddie a new, more judgmental, yet infinitely more concerned, look. "Eddie. What. The fuck."

Honestly, he's not sure there's anything he can say in response.

"Why- I don't... are you okay, man?" Jeff sounds both scared for Eddie, and scared of him, at the same time.

"I'm fine," Eddie manages to squeak out.

"Eddie," Jeff says seriously, "this is not fine. This is- this is insane behavior. You know that, right?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Eddie doesn't even know what he's defending himself from but his default response to anything is to defend himself. He grips Steve tightly around the torso with one hand and then moves both his hands to be behind his back so Jeff will stop staring at Steve.

"I mean this fuckin' insane shrine you have dedicated to Steve fucking Harrington. How did you even get a doll that looks like him. Did you- did you make that?"

Fuck. Holy fuck. What can he say to defend himself here? Is there a single way for him to come out of this not sounding deranged? If he agrees, let's Jeff's drawn conclusion be the truth, then that's all but confirmation to Steve about his big fat crush, so when Steve's back to being Steve he'll never look at Eddie again. Jeff might think he needs mental help, but he'll be here for Eddie. If he tries to deny the accusation, then he'll need an explanation. He'll have to tell Jeff something that make him seem less like a creepy stalker, but what? He can't tell the truth, not without letting everyone know he's going to tell Jeff. There's a whole other secret he'd have to let out to even have a chance of Jeff believing him.

Jeff must take his silence for acceptance or guilt, because he's speaking again. "I.... man, this is not healthy. Please tell me you aren't, like, hoarding a lock of his hair or his clothes or something."

Involuntarily, damningly, his eyes dart to the closet, where several of Steve's sweaters hang from when he'd borrowed them and never returned them. And it's not like Steve doesn't have several of Eddie's own articles of clothing, like his battle vest and a few shirts. But Jeff doesn't know they easily, willingly, swap clothes, so his eyes go wide and dart towards the closet, as if he can pick out which pieces belong to Steve on sight.

Actually, he probably can.

"This really isn't what it looks like," Eddie says because he has to say something. Being silent is too incriminating.

"I don't think you're aware of what this looks like," Jeff says, wiggling himself off of Eddie's bed to stand at the foot of it. "Of all the boys in Hawkins.... I knew you liked Steve but this is.... creepy. That doll looks so much like him that I recognized it. Does Steve know you're in love with him, or is this like a way to process your crush without having to-"

"Jeff!" Eddie yells, mortified. He can feel his whole face heat up, knows he must be bright red. Because Jeff just said, out loud and for Steve to hear, the thing that Eddie very much hasn't even said out loud to himself, even if he knows how he feels deep down.

Jeff must know he's overstepped some invisible boundary he wasn't even aware of because his face immediately shows regret. He takes a step forward and Eddie takes a step back.

Immediately, Jeff stops his forward momentum. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry."

When Eddie answers, his voice sounds like he's been eating gravel, "Just, can you go wait in the living room? I'll be right out, and we can talk, or whatever, but can you just..."

A nod, and then Jeff is gone, closing the door behind him.

With shaking hands, Eddie brings Steve back to the front of him. Looks down at him. He's not even aware he's crying until he watches his tears mark Steve's tiny polo. He can't keep holding Steve. Can't keep looking at him. Not when- not when his best friend just outed him in the worst way possible. And Eddie can't even be upset or hurt about it because Jeff didn't know. He's teased Eddie about his crushes before, and in the safety of his own room, there was no reason for Jeff to have to watch what he was saying.

Even knowing that Steve is okay with Robin, loves her anyway, without the ability to confirm that Steve doesn't hate him right now, Eddie's going to freak out. But he can't. Jeff is waiting in the living room, and the band is waiting back at Gareth's. This was just- they were supposed to just grab the amp cable and get back, a fifteen-minute job at most, and now.

Now Eddie is staring down at Steve, willing himself to not have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have heard it like that, it s-should have come from me. It should- you-I'm sorry," Eddie gently underhand throws Steve onto the center of the bed. He lands face up and Eddie sinks to the floor because he can't stand anymore, and he can't really breath.

Steve knows Eddie's a fucking faggot now, and that he wants Steve, and there's no way he'll get to keep the friendship they had before this. There's no universe in which Steve isn't creeped out by this information. There has never been an instance where a straight boy found out about his crush on them and didn't abandon him. Not always cruelly, he'll admit. He's had friends that learned and just... slid from his life with no words and no fuss. Eddie just never spoke to them again because they never came back around, but they also never outed him.

That's what will happen with him and Steve. He'll quit inviting Eddie around, or calling when he's bored, and eventually it will get to the point that Eddie only sees him at BBQ's that Joyce drags him to.

Fuck. FUCK!

He's not sure how long he's on the floor but eventually, he finds the will to get back up and resume digging through his closet to find the amp cord. It doesn't take long, he was ridiculously close to finding it earlier, it seems.

Before leaving his room, he picks back up the cassette player and headphones. Silence comes from them, so he pops the tape out before flipping it to the B side and popping it back in. He puts the headphones around Steve's head again and presses play, doing his best to not actually look at Steve. He'll just have another breakdown if he does.

He trudges out of his room, closing the door behind himself before taking the short walk to the living room, where Jeff waiting on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes faraway as he stares towards the wall in front of him.

"Hey," Eddie says, to get his attention.

"Hey," Jeff says, sitting up straight and turning towards Eddie. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the fucking psycho here," he sighs, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, hand clutching at the amp cord just for something to ground him.

"Forget that, whatever I did, or said, or whatever, you were- when you yelled my name. You looked terrified. Of me," Jeff almost whispers the last sentence, and if not for the stark silence in the trailer, Eddie wouldn't have heard.

"Not of you, Jeff," Eddie whispers back, but his voice doesn't stay quiet because 'quiet' isn't a thing Eddie does easily or often. "Of... of myself, and these- of how I feel- I'm a goddamned faggot and now that Ste- when Steve finds out I'll lose him! Like I've lost every fucking person who ever even suspected I was a fuckin' queer!"

Silence stretches between them, enough to make Eddie fidget, dropping his crossed arms to twist the amp cord about anxiously with both his hands.

"Look, man, I don't know what's, like, the appropriate thing to say so I'm just going for the honest thing. You got me. You'll never lose me. And all those other assholes that you think you lost? You're wrong. They lost you. And if Steve Harrington is gonna be another one of those, then you aren't losing him. 'Cause he was never really in your corner to begin with."

If this were anyone else, with the exception of his uncle, he would be able to hold it together better. But it's Jeff. His best friend. Who never believed Eddie committed unspeakable horrors over Spring Break last year. Who didn't question the strange, new friends he suddenly had afterwards; who accepted as the only explanation a softly spoken 'they saved me' and that was enough. Who had said 'ok, cool' in response to Eddie telling him he was gay, years ago now, and continued trying to find out if Eddie had a secret relationship, switching girlfriend for boyfriend like it wasn't a big deal (Eddie did not have a secret relationship; his good mood that week was the result of snooping for his birthday present and finding the guitar hidden under his uncle bed).

It's Jeff. So, Eddie does the most metal, manly thing he can and bursts into tears, blindly reaching for Jeff and pulling him off the couch so he can bear hug him and sob into his shirt.

"There, there, you big baby," Jeff rubs his back soothingly, "let it out. Then pull your sorry ass together, because Gareth and Brian are going to think we died in a car crash on the way here if we take much longer."

"Ah, fuck," Eddie manager to say around the sniffling he's trying to get control of, "you're right."

"You good, though?"

"Uh, I will be."

Jeff nods and steps back. "How about this. We go to practice, and then you can come to my place tonight and we can like, hangout and talk. If that's what you want."

He's already nodding as he says, "yeah. That would be good. I- uh, I have something to do after practice, but yeah, after that I'll come over."

Eddie tosses the amp cable to Jeff after they climb into the van and head off.

Halfway there, Jeff says, "you know Gareth and Brian are in your corner, too. If you ever feel like telling them one day."

"One day," Eddie agrees, "but today has already been... a lot."

Practice goes well, with some ribbing for their tardiness allowed. If Gareth and Brian notice Eddie's been crying recently, they keep it to themselves. Which is good, because Eddie cannot handle one more thing today.

A promise to meet up with Jeff later and Eddie's back home.

Back to where he left Steve, who will be laying in silence on his bed because it's been well over two hours since he and Jeff left, and the tape only held an hours' worth of music on each side. Back to the nightmare of not knowing if Steve hates him now, or if Eddie's, and this is the most likely scenario, being a bit overdramatic.

His uncle is home, so he greets him, asks after his day, gets told dinner is Fend For Yourself Night (which just means leftovers or a TV dinner), and gets asked about Steve. Because of course he does.

"You sure he went on a vacation willingly with those parents of his, and he ain't actually kidnapped and trapped somewhere?"

That's a little bit too true. If only Wayne knew. "Well, no. I'm not sure. All I know is what he said when he left."

Wayne gives him a look. One Eddie is used to seeing, that says 'I know more than you think but I'm waiting for you to tell me' and Eddie's a little afraid of what Wayne thinks he knows. So, instead of prying that box open, Eddie just says he's tired and goes to his room.

Steve is exactly where Eddie left him.

Suddenly, without reason or logic, Eddie is angry. He's so pissed at Steve for being gone for this long. For having transformed in the first place. For not being able to assure him they'll still be friends, regardless of Eddie's stupid crush.

He snatches Steve off the bed, hand clamping around one of Steve's arms and his torso so he can hold him up with one hand. Steve's face, permanently stuck into a blank expression, looks back. Even knowing that Steve sees and hears through this thing, Eddie's so angry at the doll. If Steve hadn't been turned into this stupid thing, if Eddie wasn't so helplessly in love with him, this wouldn't have happened. Eddie could have taken his own time telling Steve, instead of hearing his deepest secret spilled easily from Jeff's lips. Instead of this not knowing what Steve is thinking, or how he feels. Is he recoiling in disgust at the fact Eddie's making him look at his face? Or is Eddie being awarded the same kindness as Robin, a quiet acceptance that won't change their friendship?

Eddie doesn't know that answer and he hates it.

He's so angry with himself because he should know better. He's forcing his own insecurities onto Steve, about acceptance and caring, when nothing Steve's done since they've become friends is prove that he'll always be Eddie's friend and not even the apocalypse could change that.

"I'm going to hang out with Jeff, so you're gonna be alone a bit longer. Or maybe I should drop you off at Robin's when I go," Eddie goes to toss Steve back on the bed when something pinches his palm. It's a startling sharp pain, quick to fade, but it's surprising enough for Eddie to let go.

Eddie watches, horrified, as he falls to the floor. He twists in the air, landing with a dull thump and cracking sound on his left arm before falling onto his back.

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie is crouched, already in the process of reaching for Steve when he freezes.

There is a crack on Steve's left arm, a line that starts above his elbow on the inside of his arm and runs down and across his arm to his hand, where Steve's pinky finger is gone. Looking slightly to the side, Eddie can see the small porcelain piece that Steve is missing laying on the ground next to him. Eddie's own hand is hovering in the air above Steve, shaking.

This can't be- how did- Eddie wracks his brain. Was the crack there already? Did Eddie cause the crack when he bounced off his dresser earlier? When did it happen? Does that fucking matter when it's Eddie who broke a piece off him? If Steve didn't hate him before, he's got to now. Eddie doesn't have time to panic about this, he's got to- El. El can talk to Steve. Find out if he's okay. What if breaking him-

Eddie launches himself up and to his dresser, grabbing at the Walkie up there. He pulls the antenna up, clicks it on and tries not to actually shout as he says, "Code Red! Code fucking Red!" He lets off the talk button, counts to seven in his head, enough time, he reasons, for someone to respond before he repeats the process. "Code Red!! Code Red!"

He repeats this process for three minutes with no response. Where the fuck is everyone!? How is he supposed to- Oh! The phone!

He tears down the hall and to the phone. He must look a right state, because Wayne looks very concerned and is halfway to standing up when Eddie gets to the phone beside him. He yanks the phone up and dials the number for the Byers-Hopper household, holding up a shaking finger to Wayne, a silent plea to give him a moment.

It rings and rings and rings before the answering machine kicks in. Eddie presses down on the disconnect button before dialing the Wheelers' number next.

"Hello?"

"Mike! Code Red! Where the fuck is everyone and why aren't they answering!?"

"What?"

"Code Red! Where's Nancy. Put Nancy on."

"Dude, slow down, what's-"

"I broke St-it. I broke it and someone needs to get El here now. Code Red does not mean ask questions, Mike! It means Code. Fucking. Red."

"Shit, shit, right! I'll get Nancy and we'll get everyone- just- we'll be there soon."

Eddie slams the phone down and has to meet his uncle's eye now.

"Eddie. What is goin' on?"

Eddie inhales a breath and can feel his lower lip quivering. "It's- can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not the one hurt, or in trouble, or- it's not me, ok. I just-"

"Yer shakin' like a leaf boy. What's got you so spooked?"

Eddie just shakes his head and flees back to his room, slamming the door shut between him and his uncle. He can't bring himself to cross the room to Steve. He slides himself down the door to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up to hug.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry."

[lovesickeros]

lord its so dark in here the sahara desert of tsaritsa content you are like a shining oasis. your characterisation of her compels me & mihoyo would be hard pressed to top it imo.!! caaaaan i humbly request yr thoughts on her first meeting w a reader of any kind, or maybe even multiple kinds (sagau, sagau god au, isekai, etc) if you so desire...

it really is like a desert here. being the fan of a character we aren't getting until the last damn nation is driving me up a wall but i will persevere bc if nothing else i support morally bankrupt women in media. we r in a severe drought over here but i do my best. unfortunately nothing i say is ever coherent so pull out your translation notes its abt 2 be messy

also this got out of hand but thats bc first meetings w the tsaritsa are tricky to write + a LOT of her characterization lies in deeper exploration then just surface level yknow...NOT A DIG AT YOU this is just my excuse for rambling. gently pats the tsaritsa she can hold so much complexity i do not have the word count to delve into it completely :]

gonna talk cult au for a bit here though because that's 99% of my content. and honestly? she thrives in sub au's of the cult au like villain au + imposter au. it's basically made for her. i mean, early days, the imposter au had been going around for a little while but one of the first few ideas was the Fatui taking reader in so like. it kinda technically actually was. pretty sure cult au Tsaritsa popped up because of the imposter au. a lot of it's writers kinda left though which. man am i getting old or.

anyway.

there isn't much of a chance her first impression is all that positive. at best it's usually neutral, imo, but rarely if ever positive. specifically because i view the Tsaritsa as someone who isn't as fanatical as most of the acolytes typically are towards the creator. she's not exactly going to worship the ground you walk on unlike a certain geo lizard. which is partially why i think she thrives in the sub au's i mentioned.

imposter au, for example. she meets you at your lowest. there's no gaudy extravagance or pampering from the acolytes waiting for you because your own acolytes have turned on you. for all intents and purposes you aren't a "god" at all. which is why i don't think she meshes well with normal cult au reader. the Fatui are made up of outcasts, basically, and imposter au slots right in just perfectly. you're weak, at your lowest, when you meet the Fatui in the imposter au. and the Fatui can help you, too.

a mutual exchange, really. the Tsaritsa sees a tool she can use to one up the rest of the nations and especially Archons, and she has no qualms about you using her and the Fatui in turn. you both want something out of it, after all. whether you just want to be safe from the rest of the acolytes, or you want revenge, or whatever else..she'll give you the power to fulfill it, and she gains the strongest piece on the chessboard when all is said and done.

the best way i can describe the first meeting is "practical", i suppose. she sees an opportunity in you. the ultimate gamble. because if she "saves" you, and you dont trust anyone else because they tried to kill you, well..she holds all the cards, doesn't she?

but the Tsaritsa, imo, is just as capable of being just as fanatical towards you as anyone else. she just won't worship you as the creator. but as yourself? clawing your way back to your divine power and taking back what belongs to you? the Tsaritsa is, to me, a character who's character flourishes in long-term fics more because she changes a LOT between "just met reader" and after having been with reader for some time. she's practically apathetic at the beginning but a lot of her character, in my characterization, shines through LONG after the first meeting.

[anna-scribbles]

“Look who finally showed up.” Ladybug’s voice was the quiet kind of rage, an animal she was just barely keeping penned up. “I was starting to wonder.” She looked at him like he was a dead thing.

good morning and happy call it even chapter 6 day to me and @sha-nwa and all those who celebrate<3

[pink-tk-a-latte]

PYPYPYPY! (That is how I shall summon thee. Like a cat's PSPSPSPSP- HEHEHE-)

If you feel inspired by my prompt, can I please request lee! Sigma and ler! Dazai? (Tone, romantic but not established relationship (YET LMAO-). I really don't have a coherent plot idea, I just woke up to the thought of Dazai *geeeently* fluttering his digits against Sigma's ears, sides, etc, being extra soft as Sigma desperately tries to crawl away, only to get pulled back into Dazai's lap (He loves it, he just refuses to LET himself love it XD). Sigma bby needs some softness after the last 3 years of his life tbh... And Atsushi is now experienced enough to predict Dazai's tickle attacks so his new victim is Sigma XD.

Have an awesome dayyy~!

-🫧 Anon~!

So I’m a cat girl now? (PYPYPYPY is hilarious from now on I will respond only to that) /j

ANYWAY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!!! You’ve been such a pal bubble anon!! Genuinely I’m so sorry for how long this took :((( I’ll blame it on end of school year busyness but I’ve also just been generally waffling (I have no reference for how long it should take to finish a request… uhhhhhh…)

Warning for,,, a spattering of tildes (there’s like three)? I know it’s cringe but I think they’re fun~~~~~ lmaooo

Regardless!!! On with the Sigzai!!!!!

Sfw tickle fic!!!!!!! Pre-Relationship Sigzai 💜🤎

Gypsophila, Baby’s Breath

In his mind, Sigma felt weightless. As if he and gravity had become estranged, acquaintances who’d fallen out of touch over time. As if he were drifting, floating, falling through the sky.

But then there were clowns with sharp teeth and dove wings, and strange, pale men offering their hands, and sands and seas of red and orange, and pages, and elevators, and flooding ballrooms with classical music—

And he was riding a giraffe, for some reason?

Then Sigma awoke, gasping as though he'd been ripped from a freezing ocean, to a warm and fluttering breeze blown against the back of his neck. He slapped a hand against his nape, a shabby attempt to hide his reaction.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty!”

Sigma whipped his head around, still achey and foggy as he tried to remember who he was and where he was and what universe this was supposed to be.

A dream? Sigma twisted his face and rubbed his bleary eyes. It felt so real.

Granted, he had no idea why he would think that.

“Come back to reality yet?” He thought he recognized that voice. It was bright and entirely unserious and brought a sinking sensation to his stomach. “It’s rare to see Sigma sleeping on the job~!”

“Huh?” Sigma surveyed his surroundings. The lights were off, the room lit solely by the tangerine rays stretching from the windows. He glanced down at his desk.

His desk. At the ADA. His not-quite-yet home, only because he had nowhere else to go for now.

He looked up. Dazai was leaning over him, eyes a soft and welcoming brown in the rusty sunlight.

The rusty sunlight…

How long was I asleep for!?

Dazai laughed in his frothy-bubbly way. “Don’t worry, you were only out for an hour or so. It was almost the end of the day already.” Pulling up a chair, he scooted beside Sigma. “Although I’m impressed you lasted that long! You were practically falling asleep at the wheel the whole day!”

I was? Abashedly, Sigma frowned and rubbed his forehead. He eyed Dazai from the corner of his vision. “How did you��?”

“—Know what you were going to ask?” Now, Dazai was leaning his chin on his hand and staring up at him. The tender, charmed amusement those coffee brown eyes fixed him with was too intense to stare at directly, like a solar eclipse. “It’s because you’re easy to read, Sig-ma.”

“Wh- You- I am not!” Sigma huffed. “I can’t help that I’m no superhuman.”

Suddenly quiet, Dazai hummed and smiled, brown eyes closer to black now that they were out of the light. “Is that so?” He reached for the long locks of purple and white that weaved around Sigma’s shoulders. “But you treat yourself like a work machine!” He twirled his hair around his fingers.

Sigma had noticed that — Dazai was always reaching to touch, whether it be patting Atsushi or Kyouka on the head, leaning on Yosano’s shoulder, stealing Kunikida’s glasses or Ranpo’s hat, or pinching Sigma’s cheeks (???). He was simply tactile, as though he did it without purpose or logic.

The accused work machine crossed his arms. “I like work, though.”

Dazai made a comically disgusted face, then smoothed his expression back into untouchable levity. “You’re strange.”

Sighing, Sigma ran a hand through his hair, peeved to find it frizzing in all directions. He adjusted the strands that clung to his cheeks and tangled in his earrings, tucking them behind his ear.

Dazai’s fingers followed immediately, curious toward his adornments. Feather-light, they brushed against the back of his ear.

Sigma’s disproportionate flinch did not go unnoticed.

He grabbed Dazai’s wrist. “Hey— Hands to yourself.” He couldn’t help how his tone wavered.

“Aww, but why?” he whined. “Your earrings are so shiny. I just want to see~ them, Sigma.”

Really, Sigma didn’t mind being touched, but the memory of Dazai’s fingers skirting the shell of his ear sent a crack of hot lightning down his skeleton.

Sigma nibbled on the dry skin of his lip. “I just don’t want you to pull them out or something…” His gaze trailed up.

When Sigma met Dazai’s eyes, his stomach dropped at their impish glint.

He should’ve known he’d been caught the moment he woke up.

“Your reactions are always so curious.” Dazai grinned, and then his arms were around Sigma’s waist.

"Wait!" While Sigma yelped, Dazai pulled him out of the chair and into his lap, skittering blunt nails into his sides. "WAIHAIhahait! StahaHAP!"

Dazai was being so darn soft, digits just barely making an imprint in his skin, that Sigma was embarrassed by how loud he was. It was more of the surprise than anything, but the gentleness and the premonition of it felt like colorful beams of energy erupting from his brain.

"Shh shh." Dazai's chin rested on Sigma's fluffy head. "Just relax. Don't fight it." Said hushly, as though he were speaking to a rowdy critter.

“Whahahat do you mehehehEAN?” He shoved at Dazai’s shoulders, gripping restlessly at the other rolly chair for succor, but it insisted only on rolling away.

Cheek squished against Sigma’s elbow, Dazai babbled placatingly, “Just that I think you would like this if you calmed down!” He wrapped one arm around the desperate man to secure him in his lap, then flurried his fingers in between his shoulder and neck. Sigma squealed and curled into himself, drive to escape lost.

It was as though all his thinking had floated away in a toasty bubble of mirth. All notions of his duties, his past, the wants of other people, erased and overpowered by touch in the guarded swaths of his skin.

“DAhahahazai! Ehehehieek!” Sigma rocked side to side uselessly. “NoHOhot thehehere!”

“It’s such a fun spot though!” Dazai sang. “You’re just so perfectly shaped for grabbing, hm?”

Sigma shook his head, hair swirling around his figure. “WHAhahahat the heheHE—!?” His face was euphorically warm, even at the affronting statement.

He felt moisture bead on his lashes from the force with which he lidded his eyes. Somehow, he’d turned to face Dazai, burying his face in his collar. Sigma noticed that Dazai’s skin was as acutely hot as he felt.

Easy access permitted, Dazai blew on his ear, then laughed at how Sigma bristled and shrieked. Sigma cursed him through loopy, frantic giggles; even so, Dazai put in the effort to look offended.

“It really hurts me that you still push me away!” He sniffled theatrically. “After the secrets and promises we shared? Don’t you trust me?”

Ridiculously, Sigma felt just a tad guilty. “IhihI dohoho, buhut- !”

“Aww, that’s nice of you.” Dazai leaned in close to his neck. Sigma felt those lips curl into a smile… and shivered. “Probably a mistake, though.”

Scritches at the spot beneath his ear and pinches at his hip fried his nerves until Sigma lost his mind. Such clement touches, such violent sensations. Confusion only made him more frantic: Did he want to run from the feeling, or melt into it?

Questions for another time. Right now he just wanted a break.

“OhohokAHAY! Thahahat’s ehehenough!” Sigma pushed weakly against Dazai’s shoulders.

“Fine, fine.” Dazai stopped shortly after, taking Sigma into his arms as all the tension evaporated from his limbs. He settled Sigma back in his own chair without separating. Though he flinched at the contact, Sigma stayed.

As Sigma wheezed and puffed, Dazai’s nose dug into his shoulder. “See? I’m only human too.” He trailed off. Then, cheekily, “I’m mere prey to my desire for you~!”

Sigma sighed and patted Dazai’s cheek, ignoring the flare of heat in his own. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you were beyond human.” His mouth quirked oddly. “You told me yourself there’s no such thing.”

Dazai chuckled. “I don’t know, you’re pretty extraordinary.”

The pats turned into a (fond) slap.

“Ow!” He lifted his head and nursed his cheek. Sigma knew that pout was fake. “Mean, mean, mean! And I was just about to ask if you had fun.”

“What?” Sigma did not like how often he was becoming flushed.

That irritatingly brilliant mind waggled his eyebrow. “It’s nice, isn’t it? For a fleeting minute, you don’t have to think about anything. It’s bliss.”

Sigma played with his sleeve. “I… guess.” The admission made him warm all over again.

Dazai clapped and cheered and Sigma hit him again. There was a gasp from the man he was leaning against. “Oh, speaking of! Chuuya was asking how you were. He wanted to make sure you were taking it easy.”

Ah, well that was nice of him. Sigma grunted, still slumped against Dazai’s chest. “And here you are, holding me at work overtime.”

"Then let’s start heading back, shall we?" Dazai slid from his seat and halfway knelt on one knee, offering his hand (the same hand that a moment ago had been— nevermind). Sigma shook his head in exasperation but took it anyway.

Through the door and into the hallway, Dazai pulled Sigma by the hand, wrapped firmly but tenderly around his fingers. He met his eye with a smug, reminiscent look. "You know, this place is like a ballroom..."

"I swear, if you start dancing again, I’m leaving you here,” said Sigma, staring down the idea forming in Dazai's head.

"But our lives aren't in danger this time!" Unheeding, Dazai had flourished his free hand, ready to tango.

Against all odds, Sigma’s brow relaxed. He was right. There was no imminent doom in this moment, just the ADA's halls leading to nothing but stairs and an elevator that wasn't rigged (not that he was inclined to use it). Just Dazai, his warm, satiny, playful hands, and his invitation.

With a breath, Sigma loosened his shoulders. He let Dazai pull him into twirl, then a wrap, then a dip, and they began their dance once again.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

Baby’s breath symbolism: Purity, innocence, everlasting love and devotion, and new beginnings.

[crossbackpoke-check]

it’s all the rest of what i want with you

connor dewar/brandon duhaime :: 8k

Summary:

“Brandon,” Connor says with a sigh. “There’s no baby in there.”

“Not yet,” Brandon says. Connor feels his stomach twist, almost like what he would imagine a baby kicking to feel like.

in these trying times of dewvorce, may i offer you 8k of pwp inspired by @stillfertile’s wonderful art which i had. several breakdowns about 🫶 anyway please enjoy!!!

[katnissmellarkkk]

my aesthetics :

the second quarter quell generation, pt one (aka the generation with all the principal characters’ parents, and then also haymitch)

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

the doctor's heroic position succinctly put by: themself

[nostalgia-tblr]

Aye, this fic is going to need cut into chapters, it's probably going to end up above 9000 words. It's gone past 7000 tonight and there's a couple of scenes left to write/finish. Slightly angsty/dramatic ones as although I did not set out to rewrite Loki S2 I have to some extent done so and Sylvie is not pleased about being needed at the TVA, or about Loki's new TVA uniform, or about that weird green 'pie' :(

So far I still lack a good title for it but maybe it can just make do with a bad one, I don't think anyone is especially fussed about the titles of fanfiction really. It'll be E-rated as it contains all three 'C-words' but it's not wall-to-wall porn there's just a few ~tasteful~ and ~emotionally compelling~ ❤️love scenes❤️sprinkled with great thought and subtlety throughout.

[zukkaoru]

i should. speedwrite a chuuya bday fic,,

[gendervapor14]

i need a hammer to the heart like i need a bat to the brain

[tomato-fendo-writes]

hey do you guys think my misc doc is big enough yet

[sisterdivinium]

Asymmetry

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Categories: F/F, Gen Relationship: Jillian Salvius/Mother Superion Characters: Mother Superion (Warrior Nun), Jillian Salvius

Mother Superion almost wishes she had not lost her scar at the thought of Jillian's own.

[badnew2005]

i know i have been inactive but i fear yous do Not talk about dennis literally killing himself near enough