#anyway sort of proud of myself for finishing this

[weirdthingskid]

So I went ahead and made the parody with Olive, so here's the lyrics changed to fit everyone's favorite veteran snarker!

I imagine this is Olive talking to Otto about everything that stresses her. (Hence "give it to your partner")

I'm calling this Under the Oddness, you'll see why

I'm your partner, I'm not nervous I'm as tough as the crust of the Earth is Got the gadgets, squishinated Trustworthy, you can see how my face is...*beat* I don't ask about the cases Precincts don't have additional aces "Whatever's the problem", won't rest 'til I solve 'em I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanded - but!

Under the surface, I feel stuck in a marathon runnin' forty-three full miles Under the surface, the Big O, was he ever like, "Yo, I don't want to take the files?" Under the surface, I know there's no freestyle if I don't pass the trials A flaw or a crack, the straw in the stack That breaks the camel's back, what breaks the camel's back? It's-

Oddness that'll drip, drip, drip and'll never stop, whoa Oddness that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop, whoa, oh, oh Give it to your partner, your partner's wiser Make her every single agent's advisor Who am I if we can't score the go-o-oal? Can't control, the-

Oddness like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go, whoa Oddness that'll a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa, oh, oh Give it to your partner, she's been here longer Always solving every oddity that crossed her Who am I if I can't carry it all? If I falter

Under the surface, I can't look back, but it jerks me, I worry the past is gonna hurt us Under the surface, the captain goes down, who's around to head without hassle? Under the surface, I think of the disasters, can we become forecasters? These things you've gotta face, the pieces out of place You try to stop the worsening, you're off in outer space

But wait, if I could shake the crushing weight of investigations Would that free some room up for fun, or relaxation, or taking time off? Just take your mind off of growing "oddstuff" Gets stranger, grows weirder 'Cause all we know is

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop, whoa, oh, oh Give it to your partner, it doesn't hurt, and See if she can handle every spiraling burden Trapped, lost in a game of chess, yet doesn't guess *boom* no distress

Just oddness like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go, whoa Oddness like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa, oh, oh Give it to your partner, but don't surrender Face all our problems by sticking together Who are we - the team to always progress Don't yield, no mess No distress, we fight oddness!

[mikkomacko]

Jersey Leeds: Little Dev

Previous

Summary: Part of the Jersey Leeds storyline; reader takes baby Jersey to her dads first game of the new season

Warnings: none

~

“Neeks you don’t have to do that.”

He doesn’t even give you a second glance as he continues to twist the Allen wrench, shaking his head softly. His hair hangs over his forehead, concealing most of his gaze but under the tips of the dark strands you can see his dimples sink into his cheeks.

“Been sitting over here too long,” he calls back “need to get it out of the way. And tire myself out for my nap.”

Accepting his answer, you turn back to the counter to finish Nico’s pregame snack. The new house in Jersey was slowly coming together, slower than either of you expected but life’s sort of been like that lately. The playoff birth of Jersey and then the team’s quick exit in Carolina, followed by a flight to Switzerland with a newborn was hectic. You made it work though, at least while Nico was competing at worlds but both of you were almost thankful for the loss.

Being parents was hard. Being parents while moving, hockey-ing, and not sleeping was even harder. Luckily the summer calmed down and Nico had more time with you and Jersey, showing her around Bern and introducing her to her Swiss family. He had a lot of things to be proud of that month, but none of it sparkled in his eyes like sharing his life with his daughter did.

You think of that look on his face as Jersey begins to fuss from her play mat, the borderline cries already making your temple throb. Plating Nico’s two peanut butter and banana sandwiches, you dust your hands off on your pants before moving into the living room.

Nico is still sitting on the living room floor, legs splayed out in front of him as he attaches the final leg to the new coffee table, but his eyes are watching Jersey intently. Her little arms and legs wiggle, kicking and reaching upwards as she softly cries.

“I could’ve got her babe,” Nico says as you walk over, his fingers wrapping around the leg he just attached and wiggling it. “She’s just right there.”

Satisfied with his work, Nico flips the table over so it’s standing over his lap. Jersey is still fussing, angry little hiccups as she waves her fists in the air and you can’t help but laugh quietly as you bend down to scoop her up.

“It’s ok,” you reply, dabbing the sleeves of your sweater over her wet cheeks. Big brown eyes peer up at you, framed by the same impossibly thick, dark eyelashes Nico has. “I was done anyway.”

Testing his handiwork again, Nico presses his palms into the top of the table and lays all his weight on it as he gets up. You hold your breath, waiting for the screws and legs to give out and your husband to go tumbling to the living room floor.

But the table is solid and sturdy. Nico smirks proudly, rapping his knuckles on the wood before turning to you. “1 down,” he sighs “a lot more to go.” You shake your head as he eyes the rest of the boxed furniture scattered around the room.

“Do it later, you need to eat.”

Nico’s hands find your hips, holding you gently as he buts his head into yours to look down at his daughter. “Let me see my baby.” He requests instead, and the sound of his voice has Jersey kicking her legs in excitement. Her tiny mouth stretches into a toothless smile, pink tongue flopping out against her chin.

Laughing, Nico sticks his tongue out just the same, right hand coming up to tickle at her cheeks. You give them their moment, your heart warming at the weird but affectionate encounter. You’re unsure of how it came about, how Jersey picked up the habit but one day you had come home from a girls day with Nico’s family to find them sticking their tongues out at each other for entertainment. It’s since become their thing and Nico will take any chance he can get to see Jersey do it.

Nico pecks a kiss to her forehead before straightening out, pressing a similar kiss to your forehead as well.

“All right, snack time for my babies.” You instruct, pressing your palm into Nico’s stomach to nudge him towards the kitchen. He follows compliantly, moving into the kitchen and digging through the cabinets for something. You fetch a bottle out of the fridge, popping it into the warmer as Nico finds the container of honey he was looking for.

Smiling, he holds it out towards you.

“What?” You laugh, adjusting Jersey on your hip.

His voice drips with sweetness when he asks, “Will you put it on my sandwich for me?” It’s an odd request considering your currently holding a baby and attempting to get her meal ready but Nico’s already reaching out for his daughter with his free hand so you obediently switch him.

“You’re being weird,” you comment, popping open the container as you peer up at your husband through your lashes. He’s mumbling sweet nothings under his breath, nose pressed into Jersey’s temple because he likes the smell of her baby wash.

If your words bothered him, it doesn’t show. “I like the way you do it.” He explains simply, turning to grab Jersey’s now warm bottle. Going back to work on his snack, you drizzle honey across the banana slices before putting them back together and quickly slicing each sandwich into two. Nico fishes out Jersey's bottle, not sparing you a glance as he plops down at the dining room table. Plate in hand, you watch him settle Jersey into the crook of his arm, her little body so small against his bicep and forearm.

He coaxes the nipple of the bottle into her mouth, waiting a moment for her to latch before shooting you an expectant look, eyebrow raised and unimpressed.

"My bad," you laugh, "I didn't realize I had two babies to feed."

Settling into the chair next to him, you set his plate in front of him. Which was apparently not the right thing to do because Nico sighs, still eyeballing you incredulously. You roll your eyes, annoyed but so utterly in love with the man in front of you that you can't help but smile as you pick up a half of a sandwich, lifting it to his awaiting mouth.

It makes you laugh, him munching on the snack with honey smeared on his lips, bobbing his head to entertain Jersey while she eats. She watches him with curious eyes, blinking sluggishly. By the time you've finished feeding Nico, she's finished most of her bottle and is sinking further into Nico's arm as sleep pulls her under. He slip the bottle from her, and you take that and the empty plate to the sink while Nico props her up on his shoulder to be burped.

"All right," you sigh after cleaning everything up, "nap time for you two." Nico smiles lazily as you lead him and Jersey down the hall with a tender hand on his lower back. Jersey has already begun to drool into his chest, and he's careful to lay her in the middle of your king size mattress.

You stay long enough to watch him crawl into bed and take the time to tuck him in under a throw blanket, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He attempts to lift Jersey onto his chest, wincing when she wakes up with an annoyed screech, but she's soon settling into the softness of his abdomen. Nico coaxes another kiss out of you, sleepy eyes all soft and warm as you leave him and Jersey to nap while you get everything together for dinner later tonight.

~~~~~

The Rock makes you emotional, not only because the last time you stepped foot in the arena you welcomed your baby girl into the world, but because of how much this night means to Nico.

Impatiently waiting for warm-ups to start, you adjust the crocheted ice skate slippers on Jersey’s feet, making sure her ankles are covered. Then you tug down the sleeves of her little jersey, smoothing a finger over the tiny C patch Nico had custom made for it. The sweater had been a gift from the organization, handed to Nico in a little bag before there first game of round two last season. He almost blubbered over the thing when he presented it to you at home, choking back tears as he babbled about the name daddy on it and his number and how it was just like that baby shirt he loves but better.

Knowing how much he loved the jersey, you’d elected to save it for her first game in person. One where he could actually see her in it. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you at the glass.

Jersey wiggles away when you adjust the headphones over her ears, making sure they’re not on too tightly but aren’t slipping off. You’d spent all summer working on them for her, acquiring cute little stickers to put her name on one side and a 13 on the other. But the real kicker had been getting the two little devil horns on top. It took a lot of different emails and calls, even some instagram messaging to find someone who could make them. And even though Nico laughed and teased you about it, you were glad with the outcome.

Jersey looked adorable and passionate, all things the captain’s daughter should be.

She’s kicking her feet at you in annoyance when the first horn goes off and the players start trickling onto the ice. Almost leaping out of your skin, you press up close to the glass, turning Jersey so her back is to your chest and she can look onto the ice.

Almost immediately her little legs start wiggling, big brown eyes watching red jerseys fly by and you laugh, believing that she’s trying to skate with them in her mind.

You know Nico has his warm up routine so you’re not expecting him to bang on the glass as soon as he does. Not that you need the little taps of his stick to know he’s there. Jersey recognizes him immediately, her hands reaching out as she coos excitedly.

Looking up from Jersey’s smiling face, you’re stunned by the look of utter joy on Nico’s face. His eyes crinkled, smile so wide you think it might fall off the sides of his face if it weren’t for dimples keeping it in place. He’s waving at Jersey, hitting his gloved knuckles to the glass.

You nudge Jersey closer, allowing her to press her own hands into Nico’s as she screeches excitedly. Out of the corner of your eye a phone slips into view, capturing the precious moment for you two. You make a mental note to ask the social media admin for the video later, turning a bit so the camera has a better view.

Nico looks up at you, that beautiful smile of his shining. “That’s my baby,” he shouts excitedly, voice muffled by the glass but loud enough to make you laugh. You nod in agreement, picking up Jersey’s arm so you can help her wave to him.

His gaze returns to her, waving once more before he sticks his tongue out. Like routine, Jersey does it back, giggling and bouncing in your arms at her daddy. You can hear him laugh, the sound so full of delight it makes your whole body flush with love.

They’re interaction draws in Jack and Bratter, both boys squishing Nico between them as they stop to say hi. You can’t make out what they’re saying to each other as they wave and tap at Jersey but Bratt motions to Jersey’s headphones before shooting you a thumbs up. You laugh, shrugging in thanks before he’s off to finish warm-ups. Dougie takes his place, shoving Jack back so he can lightly jump into the glass.

Jersey jumps in shock, staring at the large man in stunned silence for just a moment. You since, waiting for her to burst into tears and you can already see Nico about to scold his teammate. But then Jersey is laughing gleefully, those bubbly baby giggles making everyone breathe out a sigh of relief.

You linger a little longer, letting all the boys stop by the stay hi and admire they’re little captain. They’re all enamored with her, eyes going soft just as they did the moment they all met her in the hospital. She has always had this team in the palm of her hand, most of all her daddy who has spent all of warm-ups watching her. He chats with whoever filters in to see her, blushing and smiling when they tap him on the helmet with their sticks.

The time comes to head to your seats, even if Nico is trying to get you to stay by making faces and wiggling his fingers through the glass. You know he’ll never actually warm-up if you don’t leave first so you give him your best demanding wife look.

“Say bye to daddy,” you tell Jersey, making her wave one more time. Then you’re tucking her into your chest and holding your knuckles to the glass. Nico does the same, winking at you just once before he slowly skates backwards.

You blow him a kiss, laughing when he pretends to catch it and place it over his heart. Finally he joins the team to get some practice shots in, you moving away from the glass where you can still see him but not be a distraction.

For just a moment you admire him, let yourself adore him for all he is. A good person, a talented player, a strong leader, a brave role model, a loving husband, and the best father a child could ever have.

Jersey’s cry of annoyance drags you back into the moment, peering down to see her mouthing at your shoulder as tears well in her eyes. Her father's eyes.

"I know baby," you murmur, "let's go feed you. We'll see daddy again in a bit." You head back through the tunnel towards the family room so you can pick up the baby bag.

"He's gonna win you a game tonight." You promise Jersey, "and if he doesn't, he'll definitely play his heart out for you."

If there's one thing you could be certain about, it's that Nico will always give his all for his babygirl.

[sansaorgana]

Can you write a cute one with a bit of smut (if you're comfortable with that obviously) with Buck and female reader where he sneaks her into his room when he knows all the others are away?

hi, love! 😍 I loved the idea of sneaking in and it starts smutty indeed but the ending is spoiled by Bucky 🤣 sorry not sorry, I tend to imagine Reader's life with these two like it's a sitcom sometimes 😁

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

Buck was the only guy who didn’t go out to the pub in town on Friday night. The boys had a whole weekend off and almost all of them decided to celebrate by going to the local town and flirting with the girls while getting drunk. Buck was not a drinker and he already had his girl on the base with him.

“If you stay here like a loser,” Bucky teased him before walking out, “then at least sneak her in here and have some good time, too,” he winked as some man behind him whistled and Buck sighed. “You don’t want to sleep here alone, do you?”

“Get out already,” Buck pushed him out and watched the rest of the boys disappear. He shook his head to himself but the truth was that he found the idea tempting indeed.

“Oh, you stayed?” You asked Buck, surprised to see him alone by the table during dinnertime. “I thought you’d go out with the boys,” you chuckled and took a seat next to him.

“I’d get bored there,” he admitted and you tilted your head to take a better look at him because he sounded like he was crazy. He smiled at you.

“You’re adorable, Gale,” you told him and you fixed his hair a little. His friends were not there to tease him about it and your friends had already known about you two anyway. Women’s gossip travelled faster than any plane. “But you don’t have to miss out on parties. I wouldn’t mind you going out,” you told him.

“I really didn’t want to go,” he assured you. “But you know… I have a whole room for myself tonight.”

You took the hand away and focused on the plate in front of you. You had to admit, you got a little shy at his insinuation. You had been sort of dating for a few weeks now but you had never had a time completely alone for yourselves. Not like that, at least. Of course there had been a few heated kisses in the dark corners here and there. But not much more than that.

“I’m so sorry…” Buck blushed. “God, I’m sorry… Forget about it… Doll, can we pretend I’ve never said that?” He put his hand on your thigh and you moved it away. He looked even more scared and awkward now.

“No, we can’t pretend,” you told him and dared to lay your eyes on him again. “Because I don’t want to pretend you haven’t said that. I think we can do it,” you nodded your head nervously.

Yes, yes, your mother wouldn’t be proud of you at that moment but for God’s sake you wanted something from this life, too, and that man could go down any day.

You loved him, too.

Buck furrowed his brows and then he gave you a wide smile as he finally realised that you had just agreed to spend the night with him.

“I will tell my friends that I have to work late. So they will go to sleep before I join them without knowing when exactly I’ll be back. I’ll tell Colonel Harding I’ll help him with the papers…” you started.

“No, no, he will keep you there until morning,” Buck shook his head.

“No, he won’t be there.”

“But he will realise you weren’t working if the papers aren’t ready tomorrow,” Buck pointed out.

“You silly, I have already finished them,” you rolled your eyes. “I always do more than I tell him so I can have free time here and there. And then I pretend I’ve just done it although it was already done a few days before. He’s been played like that many times by me,” you chuckled.

“You cunning little angel,” Buck pinched your thigh under the table and you giggled. “Let’s meet at eleven by the bathroom.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased him.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you were walking down the dark corridor. You were wearing nothing but a coat over your nightgown and now you regretted it. You wanted to surprise Buck but you were cold and you started to feel like an idiot, too. What if he would find it funny… or not ladylike…?

You almost decided to turn around and change before going back when you felt someone grabbing your arm and pulling you. You squealed but your lips got covered by a familiar hand.

“Shh, little one,” Buck whispered into your ear. “I’ve heard your footsteps,” he told you and removed the hand from your mouth.

“You scared me, Buck!” You whispered.

“I’m sorry, doll. Now, come with me,” he held your hand and guided you further into the corridor. You couldn’t go back to put more clothes on. You took a deep breath in and followed him.

Buck pushed the door leading to the room where the men had been sleeping, making sure to be as quiet as possible. You were alone there but someone could be walking outside. He closed the door behind you and led you to his bed.

When you were finally there, he turned on the small lamp which light was dim and wouldn’t alarm anyone walking by. After all, it was a free weekend and he was able to stay up late reading a book or something.

Then he turned around and took a look at you. He was wearing a T-shirt and pants and he smiled gently as noticed your nervousness.

“We don’t have to… do anything. We can just spend time together,” he told you and sat down on his bed. “What would you like to do?”

“I’m cold,” you admitted.

“Well, then, come here,” he invited you and you bit on your lower lip before gaining the courage to finally open your coat and let it fall to the floor.

Buck’s eyes widened as he looked up at you wearing nothing but a nightgown. He swallowed thickly as his lips opened slightly. The white nightgown looked perfect on your body in the dim light of his lamp and your nipples were hard and perky from the cold. He reached out for you as if he tried to find out if you were real.

“Can you warm me up, Major?” You teased as you crawled up on the bed to curl yourself in his arms.

“I sure can try,” Buck kissed your temple and reached out for the blanket to put it around you. You laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat as your fingers started to make circles on his stomach. “Are you warmer now, love?” He looked down to see your face.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I haven’t felt so warm and safe in a long while,” you admitted.

“War is no place for a sweetheart like you,” he said and rubbed your back.

“But war is here anyway. War is in my country, it’s in my world. I can’t escape it. And here I can at least… do something,” you looked up to meet the gaze of his beautiful blue eyes. “It has nothing to do with courage, you know. If we get bombed and I die here, not many people will be sad. You don’t find wives and mothers here.”

“I will certainly be sad,” Buck put his finger on your lips to caress them gently. “Let’s not talk about it tonight.”

You nodded your head and let his fingertips trace the corners of your mouth. You opened your lips slightly and he froze for a while, trying to read on your face if you wanted what he had thought that you wanted. Eventually, you gave him a slight nod and he slowly put his fingers inside your mouth.

You sucked on them and looked up to give him doe eyes. His pupils darkened and you smirked at the sight. You felt his muscles tightening, too.

You raised your hands to grab his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth.

“Do you want to touch me?” You asked.

“Yes, please,” he nodded and you giggled at how well-mannered he was.

You guided both of his hands on your breasts and you leaned back to get in a more comfortable position for you to rest and for him to grope you.

His long fingers worked on the bow on your chest and when the ribbons went loose, the nightgown opened, exposing your bare breasts for him to touch gently. You moaned at the sensation and he shushed you before burying his face in your neck to place small kisses and suck on your skin.

His hands were warm and big and he was using them so gently. His goal was not to play with your breasts mindlessly, but to fondle them and explore every inch of the exposed skin. You didn’t feel like a piece of meat, you felt like a sculpture being admired by an artist. And it was making you feel warm and wet between your legs, too. You began to slowly rub your thighs together to get some friction.

Buck moved his head up to place kisses on your jaw now and you reached back to caress his hair and pull him closer.

You wanted to ask him to touch you down there but you felt too shy to do that. You let out a whine instead.

“What is it, little one?” Buck hummed and laid his eyes on your face. He wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked at him, pleadingly. At first he was confused but then he looked down and noticed your crossed thighs. “Do you want me to touch you there, darling?” He asked and you nodded shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up. “Alright then,” he kissed your forehead. “Come here,” he helped you to move down in his arms so you both were laying down now.

You pulled your nightgown up – shyly but eagerly, too. And this time the eagerness won with the shyness. You felt as if you were about to explode at any given moment. You had no privacy on this base until now so you couldn’t remember the last time you would touch yourself. And having Major Buck Cleven touching you was enough to set your whole body on fire.

Buck raised your thigh gently and put it over his waist to get a better access to you and he carefully touched your clit for the first time. He was visibly surprised at how swollen and wet you already were.

You let out a moan and tugged on his shirt.

“Buck…”

“What’s wrong, doll?” He stopped all the movement to make sure you were alright.

“I don’t want to have sex,” you admitted shyly and he furrowed his brows. “You can touch me but I don’t want to… I don’t want to go further. Not yet,” you told him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he shook his head and kissed the top of yours. “Don’t be, little one.”

“I can touch you, too,” you proposed.

“Only if you feel like it,” he said.

“I do,” you assured him. “You can go back to touching me,” you added with a whine and he chuckled before letting his fingertips brush your clit gently.

God, he was a tease.

You focused on the bulge in his pants instead and you decided to tease, too. It was only fair. So you started with caressing it through the material of his pants, focusing on the tip for a while and then going all the way up. In the meantime, you were losing focus a few times from all the sensations he was making you feel between your legs.

“If you keep doing it like this, darling, I’m going to finish in my pants,” Buck chuckled.

“Really?” You looked up with a smile. “I want to see.”

“Oh, you’re naughty,” he shook his head and you felt a light slap on your pussy that made you widen your eyes. It was both slightly painful and incredibly pleasurable.

“Oh, so are you, Major,” you breathed out.

“You like that?” He asked and slapped you again as you whined. “You do.”

You both chuckled and leaned in for a kiss as your hands went back to rubbing and teasing. You were so lost in each other, you didn’t hear someone walking inside.

It was the loud bang of the door that made you jump up on the bed. You grabbed the blanket to cover yourself, absolutely terrified.

Thankfully, it was only Bucky. And he was completely drunk.

“Good evenin’,” he slurred out with a smirk, barely standing on his feet.

“What are you doing here?!” Buck snapped at him.

“Don’t mind me, I don’t have any idea what’s going on around me,” he admitted. “I think I wanted to start a fight, they threw me out. Some nice girl from the town gave me a ride home… To the base, I mean… So yeah… I’m banned from that pub,” he laid on his bed and started snoring half a minute later.

“I’ve never seen anyone falling asleep so fast!” You gasped.

“That’s Bucky for you,” Buck sighed.

“What now?” You asked.

“Well, he’s asleep…”

“No,” you interrupted him. “I can stay here for the night but I will not… No, it’s out of question,” you shook your head.

“Fine,” Buck sighed and left the bed. “Give me a moment, I need to go to the bathroom and cool down.”

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded your head and watched him walk away as you worked on your nightgown to tie the ribbons again in a bow.

When you were finished with that, you stood up and began turning Bucky around.

“What are you doing?” Buck asked you as he had just come back.

“He won’t snore so much this way and he won’t choke on his own vomit either,” you told him. “Help me, will you? He’s quite heavy.”

Buck helped you with that and he covered his friend with his blanket, too.

“It’s like tucking a kid to bed,” you giggled.

“Perhaps not the last time for us if we’re lucky,” Buck looked at you and your cheeks went hot at his words.

“Perhaps not…” you chuckled and extended your hands to take him back to bed and cuddle for the rest of the night.

Cuddling was nice, too.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[rileyslibrary]

I imagine that Ghost is pretty crafty and as we know already from other stories, he is always eager to help. What if reader asks him for help to assemble some piece of IKEA furniture? Something big like a closet or even a kitchen, the stuff you can't really build on your own (or it's much easier with help at least).

I don't know how much experience you have with this stuff, but oh my god... The amount of time I already spend during my life sorting these bags of screws, losing my marbles over the instructions, getting into arguments with my partner because I wasn't holding something properly for his liking, the giant pieces of cardboard packaging I had to fold and cram into the dumpster... And then ordering pizza afterwards and being proud of what we did and admiring this stupid new dresser we got like it's some piece of art. Oh memories... :)

Indeed, he’s eager to help, but if you’re the stubborn I-need-help-but-let-me-try-by-myself-first type, I feel he would just sit there and watch you make a mess. You probably didn’t revisit the instructions either, did you? What’s that? You read them once, and that’s enough? Tsk tsk tsk.

Well, he holds the manual, just in case. And he reads it, and it takes so much effort from him not to snatch that L tool thingy they give you with the unassembled furniture and start doing it himself. You called him for the heavy stuff anyway, so he should probably wait until you ask for help.

But you don’t, and, as expected, you start projecting your anger towards him.

“You’re not helping.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asks. “Just say it.”

You look at the instructions in his hand. “What does it say?” you mumble and nod at the booklet.

“It says that you’re doing it wrong,” he replies.

You give him that look that you’re about to lash out at any minute, and he changes tactics without being fazed at all by your attitude. He just wants the job done and you to be happy. And pizza afterwards, of course.

He starts walking around your mess, pointing at pieces of furniture and screws, instructing you while reading the booklet.

“Take this,” he orders while holding a piece of wood and stabilising it with his knee, “Put the screw in here.” and points at the hole.

You do as you’re told. The fact that you’re now seeing progress is enough to shut you up.

After you finish your project, you feel triumphant and need some pizza. He’s hungry, too, but something still bothers him. He doesn’t show it and asks if you can order while he cleans up the cardboard boxes you used to lay the pieces onto.

You go to the other room and call your local pizzeria. He, in return, takes the tools and secretly goes through every screw you’ve placed, tightening them so that it doesn’t fall on you.

[wakeup01]

The Shorts, Like, Maketh The Man

The black shorts were just laying there, hanging off the empty bench. I know, I know. But I wasn’t usually the type to pick up sweaty used clothing in the street, but there was something drawing me to them. Calling out to me. They weren’t really my style even, clearly gym shorts for the sort of person who spends at least an hour a day looking in the mirror. I’d never even set foot in a gym. But still, they were…nice. The polyester material felt good in my hand. Silky. There was clearly some text on the back of them but I was too excited to bother reading it. Maybe I could have them? It didn’t seem like the owner wanted them anymore anyway. I look around for any onlookers and quietly take them, stuffing them away in my pocket.

I wanted to try them on. Needed to. Finding a secluded area, I remove my trousers and pull the smooth fabric up my unimpressive legs. They felt incredibly good around my waist, like they were made for me. There was a warmth radiating from them. Mmff. They seem to press against…all the right places. Clinging to my skin. I catch myself letting out a soft moan, my face blushing red at hearing the sound. Maybe I should take them off, it would be weird to walk home in someone else’s—someone…some..one. Mine. They were my shorts. I leave the baggy trousers behind and step out into the street, an extra boost of confidence in my step.

While I’m walking my body feels slightly off, as if my weight distribution had shifted. Each foot forward felt heavier, stronger. People start to turn and gaze at me. I catch a glimpse of my chunky arms; were they always that veiny? Huh. I see my reflection strutting in a shop window and freeze on the spot. What on earth? There was a completely different person staring back at me. He was sexy as all hell. I looked like a utter gymrat. I touch my sharp, smooth jaw and run my fingers over my harsh buzzed hair. The visage in the reflection copies my exact movements, a large, self assured smirk set on their face. Curious, I lift the hem of my t-shirt. Woah! I was completely jacked! You could sharpen a blade on these abs.

Somehow I had gained pounds of lean muscle in a matter of minutes and my skin had been tanned a luscious golden hue. Certainly, I wasn’t about to complain about this turn of events. Maybe I should pick up discarded clothes more often!

Fuck, my body was li—like, fit. Just check it out. I pull out my phone and take a selfie. Okay. Maybe several selfies. Fine, maybe it was a couple dozen. Who gives a fuck when you look this hot. I didn’t even care about the pedestrians walking past and staring. They SHOULD stare. Admire this prize. This TROPHY. I was in peak form from head to toe. The shiny shorts accentuated my thick, meaty legs perfectly.

My eyes suddenly catch the time on my phone, pulling me out of my shameless self obsession. Damn, at this rate I was gonna be late for Daddy. Wait. Daddy? That’s not right, I wasn’t…

Ugh. My mind felt all jumbled up, like a finished jigsaw puzzle suddenly dropped to the floor. Pieces scattered. It was…I needed to…Daddy! Like, of course. After all, I was just a trophy boy. HIS trophy. An accessory for him to show off. Sculpting my body just how daddy likes it; my muscles existed for his enjoyment. Not that I didn’t enjoy them too…hmm.

My head hurt. Fuck. Was that right? No, I couldn’t be just some brainless boy toy. Now it made sense why the owner abandoned these damn shorts. Shit, It was altering my mind. I was becoming…I needed to remove these—mmff. But right then I feel the shorts squeeze on my bulge. It felt incredible! I shouldn’t, but I never, like, you know, wanted it to stop. My sensitive cock pulsed, thickening while stretching across the fabric. Ahhh! I grin inanely as pre drips down my leg. Like, yeah. Da—daddy loved his boy all hard. He loved when I did as he instructed. A pretty plastic toy to pose and play with. I was so proud to be his. Yes, I was his; body and mind. Like, how did I forget? I can be such an air-headed ditz sometimes. It’s a good thing Daddy also likes his twunky boys dumb; dumb, vapid and full of cum. I was good at those things. Huhuhuh.

I turn around - biting my lip - and look at my tight rear. The shorts thin fabric was digging between the two round globes. ‘Daddy’s Trophy’ was emblazoned on the back, across my cheeks. Mmff. I give my butt a light slap and watch it jiggle. I happily let out a pleasurable moan; it made me feel nice that everyone would know what I am. Explaining it was like, soo difficult and stuff. Daddy says I shouldn’t stress my pretty little head over such complex things. Uhhh. Anyway, these shorts were his favourite, all his boys wore them. He loved watching me dutifully clean the house in them. Or working out in them. Or obediently fucking him in them. Or being fucked…bouncing on his lap.

Oh right! I just remembered! I was supposed to meet him. Sir wanted to finalise our arrangement, there was one last thing to change before I could sign that dull agreement. His trophy boys were always blond. Blond and basic. Huhu. Just like I was about to be.

[burningablaze]

Todoroki x Reader - More To This Than Meets The Eye

A/N: Trust me, I was not proud of myself that it took me that long just to finish a fic. I guess I needed time for myself and there was so much going on that I barely thought about writing again. I didn’t mean to stop writing for so long but that doesn’t mean my love for writing stopped. Anyways enough of my rambling, I hope you enjoy this one and this was requested by an anonymous

Summary: Todoroki catches you reading a fic about him and wanted to find out what it was about. You didn’t expect him to react the way he did

Words: 1,212

Ler: Todoroki

Lee: Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat alone in the living room as you sought to continue to read where you left off. You looked behind your shoulders and looked around in every direction to see if someone was heading in your way as you were protective of what you were reading on your phone.

After a few moments of reading silently, you couldn’t help but to feel giddy, squirming in your seat and giggling all the way through. What you didn’t notice was someone was right behind all along.

“This is… interesting to say the least.”

“AAH!”

You jumped in your seat and looked behind you with your hand over your chest.

“Todoroki?! Dude, you gotta stop doing that.”

Todoroki gave you an apologetic smile and took a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, his voice calm and composed. “I just couldn’t help but notice your reaction to what you were reading.”

You groaned and blushed. “Please don’t tell me you read all of that.”

“I think it was halfway through. This is what you like to read? Tickling? Me tickling the other person specifically?”

“Wait, Todoroki! It’s not like that! I-I-I…”

Todoroki’s expression softened as he listened to your stammering explanation. His professional tone of voice remained steady as he responded, “I understand. Sometimes people have different interests, and it’s important not to judge them for it.”

Todoroki walked over from behind and sat down on the cushions in front of you, accepting to hear what you have to say.

You couldn’t help but feel relieved by his understanding demeanor. Todoroki’s ability to remain calm in unexpected situations was one of the many reasons you admired him. It was clear that he valued open-mindedness and acceptance, which made you feel more at ease.

“I apologize if I invaded your privacy,” Todoroki continued, his voice carrying a hint of concern. “It was not my intention. But, if you’re comfortable, I would like to hear your perspective on why you enjoy reading such stories. Perhaps it’s something I can learn from.”

You couldn’t help but blush and try to find the right words. “Todoroki, we have been friends for a very long time and I know you finding out about this for the first time can be… weird,” you said hesitantly.

“I don’t think it’s weird. I just want to understand the concept of this. I’m not very familiar with the tickling thing.” Todoroki replied, his tone curious and sincere.

You sighed. “I like to read this sort of stuff because it’s an escape from reality and it makes me feel better in a way even though I may be touch starved.”

Todoroki looked at you intently, his expression softening with empathy. “I see. So, these stories provide you some comfort and a sense of connection?” he asked, trying to grasp the significance it held for you.

Nodding, you continued, “Yes, exactly. It’s a way for me to experience the feeling of closeness and affection that I might not have in my everyday life. It’s purely fictional, but it helps me feel less alone.”

“And what about me being involved in the stories? Is it something that you would want me to do?” he asked.

You started to get flustered. “Well, it’s more like… imagining what it’ll be like if you were.”

“Oh, I see. May I see what you were reading then?” Todoroki asked. You blinked but gave your phone to him. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

You watched Todoroki scrolling on your phone and you were starting to get nervous. You wouldn’t know how he would feel about this. As you were lost in your thoughts, you felt a squeeze on your sides.

“Hehehehey! T-Todorokihihihi!” “Whoever wrote this about me did not capture my personality at all.” Todoroki said as kept tickling you while reading with a blank stare.

You covered your face to hide from the embarrassment and how much your face was blushing. You couldn’t help but kept giggling hysterically.

“What does ‘digging his fingers into your sides’ mean? Is it something like this?” he asked as he did exactly that, digging his fingers in your sides.

Caught off guard by his sudden movement, you let out a surprised squeak and toppled backward onto the couch. The laughter bubbled out of you even more, intensifying into a full-blown fit of hilarious laughter. “Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Nohohohohohoho!”

Todoroki’s friendly tone and playful demeanor continued as he watched you dissolve into laughter. His eyes softened with amusement as he realized how much joy he was bringing you. “I guess this ‘digging his fingers into your sides’ thing is quite effective,” he remarked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re so mehehehehean!”

Todoroki couldn't chuckle at your adorable laughter. He found it endearing how easily you were able to let loose and have a good time. As he watched you struggle to catch your breath between giggles, he couldn't help but feel a warm sense of contentment.

“If I was really mean then maybe this next paragraph will say otherwise,” Todoroki cleared his throat before reading as he kept tickling your side. “Your laughter turned into delightful squeals as you squirmed and tried to block his tickles. But deep down, it was clear that you were enjoying every moment, secretly begging for more.”

As the tickling continued, Todoroki leaned in closer, his voice softer now. “You know, it's moments like these that make me realize how lucky I am to have you in my life. Your laughter brightens up my day, and I can’t help but feel a warm sense of contentment whenever I see you like this.”

You arched your back as you screamed with laughter. It felt overwhelming from him reading the actions to you. It felt like a nightmare and you lost count of how many flips your stomach did.

“Shut up! Shuhuhuhut up! Ahahahahahahahahahaha nohohohohoho plehehehase!”

He suddenly attacked your belly with both hands after he tossed your phone to the side. “Now, I think I remember something in the fic going “Todoroki thought Y/N was so cute, seeing them fall apart as a blushing giggling mess. Especially when their belly is so so ticklish.” Is it getting to you?” he asked with a sly smile.

“Yes, yes! Please stohohohohop!” you grabbed both his wrists and tried to pry them off with your might. Todoroki chuckled. “I guess I’ve tortured you long enough.” he finally let up and moved to the other side of the couch.

You took that moment to catch your breath. “Damn, Todoroki, you were kinda ruthless.”

Todoroki chuckled again. “Did I at least get everything right as what the fic said?”

You blushed slightly. “You kinda did,” you said nervously. Todoroki smiled. “I’m glad,”

“So, what did you think about all that?” you asked. “Well, again it was interesting to experience something like that, especially from a fic about me.”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “Y-Yeah,” “But,” Todoroki continued. “I did have fun, watching you giggle and like that,”

“Todoroki!” you whined and threw a pillow at him. He laughed. “But I am serious, if you want to do that more often or just hangout in general, I would be willing to do so.” he smiled.

“Me too, Todoroki.”

[vgperson]

What Did I Do In 2023?

Whatever I wanted, mostly.

----

As I mentioned last year, my site now has an RSS feed with basically everything I've done back to 2020, so this will mainly be going over the same stuff from that, just with added context.

In January, I finally sat down and properly realized an idea for a short story I'd had sitting around for a while: From the Sidelines, about a fantasy RPG expedition going sideways. I remain very proud of it in both concept and execution, and hope people read it.

In February, Your Turn To Die was released on Steam Early Access, receiving character profiles and some bonus mini-episodes, adding two more later in the year.

After finishing From the Sidelines, I carried that momentum to revisit my Ut0p1a story series about funny computer animals. I'd always meant to continue it - and conclude it - but hadn't been satisfied with the ideas I had for it until totally rethinking them this year. In March, I posted the remaining stories one after another: Right to Code and Left to Code. I'm very proud of these as well. Also in March, Kenshi Yonezu released LADY. (Video, interview)

In April, Uri released the Data Book of the Strange Men Series, a big collection of the writing she's done on the games in the series, with a lot of new parts as well, all translated by me.

Then in May... uh, well, let's see. In April, Capcom released the Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection. I always adored the Battle Network games, and was initially excited that they finally did the thing... but by the time it came out, I was pretty disappointed by how, while you certainly couldn't call them low-effort ports, the effort didn't extend everywhere I thought it should, with the biggest offenders being the total absence of any "convenience features" except Buster Max Mode, the bad font, and the almost entirely untouched translations.

So, I ended up deciding I might as well just replay the originals, and that was a fun time (aside from the parts that were bad). Doing this, I couldn't help but notice how... turbulent the translations were, even if I'd always known they were less than ideal. I mean, the first two games just used periods for ellipses despite the tight character limits, then in BN3 they had an ellipsis character... but it's center-aligned, Japanese-style? Aside from the intro, which has normal ones? Gosh, somebody should fix that - it's simple enough to find and edit in YY-CHR. "JapanMan" is silly, too - I wonder if anybody made a patch for that? Wait, what do you mean there's just a tool to extract and insert text in all the Battle Network games including the Legacy Collection???

Thus began a journey that sort of occupied the rest of my year. First I did the BN3 Translation Revision, trying not to worry too much about cross-referencing the Japanese text unless something seemed wrong, so that I didn't spend too long on the project. Then I began to consider BN2, with its unfortunate "foreigner" text that would need some more significant reworking. I established more convenient tools for comparing with the Japanese script, and thus did a much more thorough job with it, releasing the BN2 Translation Revision in June (AKA Princess Pride Month).

Finally, after giving myself time to recover and actually finish replaying the series, I knew what I had to do to close things out. With the BN4 Translation Revision, you can finally play Battle Network 4 with a translation that isn't such a mess. Whether you'd want to is for you to decide, though if you can get over the structure, I don't think it's the worst game in the series by any means. (Oh, and in December I also updated the BN3 Revision to 1.1, doing a thorough pass with the methods I'd honed. But I think I'm pretty much good on MMBN translations now.)

Anyway, backtracking to other things that happened during my Battle Network haze... June had Kenshi Yonezu's Moongazing (video, interview), and July had Globe (video, interview, interview).

Last but not least, released in November, I translated Refind Self: The Personality Test Game, a short game from Lizardry (creator of 7 Days to End with You) with a fun concept.

----

Obviously I was right to have said "no promises" last year. But really, Your Turn To Die should get its final part on Steam sometime next year, maybe even early-ish in it. That's certainly the goal.

I'm also hoping to buckle down and finish one of my own games, but as usual, who knows how that'll pan out. Letting my whims carry me this year let me finally finish From the Sidelines and Ut0p1a, which was great, and it also led me down a Battle Network rabbit hole, which was... fine, but definitely for a narrower audience. I'd always like to get back to more free game translations and the like, too, but it takes effort to find things I'd want to translate. For now, I think my increasing desire to be able to let loose some of these original games I've been planning, and the stories in them, might come out on top.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:

so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey

it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)

start by pulling him out of the fire

"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous

Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.

What is your writing process like?

I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.

How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?

Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.

When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?

I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.

What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.

What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.

How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?

I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’

What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?

Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Not that I can think of!

Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[aliceisathome]

I have been saving ep 4 of Wandee Goodday like a particularly delicious sweetie. Also I wouldn't allow myself to watch it until sorted out at least half of the mixture of clean, not clean but still too clean to wash, and dirty clothes from my chair and floordrobe.

I've done the floor - what more could be expected on a fine Bank Holiday weekend. So that's good enough and I just can't wait anymore!

Look at them holding hands when they're asleep! Gah. So cute.

My main takeaway is how do these lovely dumbasses not realise they're in love with each other yet? I mean they actually kinda know but haven't even admitted it to themselves. I suppose (as with Ming with Tong in MSI ) it's hard to realise that someone 10 times better than the one you've been crushing on for years is right in front - or possibly behind - you. At this point the old crush is just habit - or addiction.

Vying for the Best Bestie of the Year crown is, once again, our Ace king Plakao. He was full of clarity and throwing truth bombs this ep - I just love him to bits. Plus I approve of his business sideline.

In fact I like everyone, with the obvious exceptions of Ter and his cheerleaders. Fuck him and his dog in a manger attitude, and OF COURSE he lives in condo 666. Excellent. But don't talk about your fake relationship in the pool of the building that you share with him you eejits. I loved Dee standing strong - I'm very proud of him.

Anyway, they're already sniff kissing - I've never seen this come before kissing kissing in a BL before - it's so CUTE. And if we don't get Yak doing that same speech from the balcony scene to Dee - finished with The Kiss - I will annoyed.

And finally HPV vaccination info and promotion - it's just all so good. I fear there will be several episodes of doom coming soon though, and as the only two series I'm watching as they air are this and My Stand In I think I will need someone to line up support in the form of a therapist, cake and possibly booze.

[rileys-battlecats]

i really gotta get better about listening to my own brain and needs when i'm making things. i've been working on a video and i'm almost finished (yippee!!), but drawing this One Specific Frame was giving me trouble. i could have just brute-forced my way through it and finalized the initial sketch, since it was relatively good enough. but instead i left it and took a day off from working on the project, let myself recharge, and came back to the sketch with fresh eyes today. and what do you know, my redrawn sketch today is WAY better! now, i can finalize that frame and be genuinely proud of it, instead of just powering through on something i was less than happy with.

i hadn't done any other art stuff that day when i couldn't get my sketches to look right, so letting myself stop and have a break from the project felt sort of "unearned" i guess. but it's just. what i needed! and the break did what i needed it to do; i was able to come back later and make something i could be proud of.

anyway i guess this is me saying that, if you're like me and have this weird morality-complex about letting yourself rest, it's ok to take breaks, even if you feel like you haven't "earned" one yet :)

[camellia-salazar]

January's Set of Fan Art/Doodles

OH GOD I ALMOST FORGOT TO POST THIS!! Good thing I just remembered before it was too late. I didn't get to draw and post this the day of but at least I got to post it before January ends.

I also tried to match the art style just like with other characters from other shows and stuff.

The set of Kindergarten fan doodles took forever to finish. It also felt forever getting back into the game. Idk why I put it off for so long I loved the game so much back in 9th grade.

Shit I failed to change the Hexley twin's sleeves back to long hhh

Characters from my January interests (besides Willow I just wanted to draw him). 4 characters I drew because of reactions, 3 because I got into them myself, and Alastor for both and because I'm also watching Hazbin Hotel with my parents and sister. Also I miss Geologist Randy, ngl. 🥲 And I didn't even watch 101DS yet I'm watching the 90s show first and there's like 65 episodes 💀 AND THE SECOND MOVIE AFTER 😭 idek if they matter for 101DS

I just felt like drawing them. Probably my two most favorite villains of WC. They were also the two most heart broken. Huh.

Just a quick draw of Hollyleaf (or Hollypaw cause of no scars). Nothing much to say on it I just drew her, just because.

Thanks for viewing my fan art! Hope you had a great January 2024!! 💖✨👋

Read more down below if you want to ⬇️:

Oh and I also drew Warrior Cats x Hazbin Hotel AU. I had a blast with that, so if any one wants to see it let me know. (I also made a Warriors x BJHM AU a while back, not as proud of it as I am of WC x HH but I might show you that one before the other one just because its older).

There was gonna be another page of fan doodles but my tablet died and I don't think I'll have enough time to finish it when it's charged before midnight (my fault for putting it off tbh). So I'm gonna post it for February. Thanks for waiting on me to post it. Man am I hooked on new content this month and probably next month too. Can't wait to watch em.

I got a few sort of new fan art that I'll post next month just because I want to put in tags for them.

But anyway thanks again! Cya in February!! 💖✨👋

(curse the tag limit... Why couldn't it be 50 tags instead of 30?)

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts

Today's prompt: hobby

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 8)

Summary: A rebuke turns into something Rosie had only dared to hope for.

Eight Years Old

Dad and Papa, well, to be fair, mostly Dad, had a stern talk with me in the aftermath of my performance in the school play where I told the tale of The Tipsy Burglar that occurred a half year earlier. I had kept it a secret from them, which I knew was a bit not good, but I thought they’d be pleased that I put Papa in the spotlight of that particular case, even if he was nowhere near London at the time. It turned out they weren’t.

“Your choice of title is…” Papa began.

“Sherlock,” Dad said in a tone that told both Papa and me that this was not the time for humour.

Dad cleared his throat and began his lecture, asking me to keep quiet until he was finished.

“We both appreciate that you love speaking about us and dramatize a little about Papa’s work.”

He sent a warning glare in Papa’s direction when he wanted to protest that it wasn’t just Papa’s work, but Dad’s too, when he wasn’t at his actual job as a doctor.

“What we don’t fancy, is your changed personality of late. You’ve become cocky, using Papa’s fame to your benefit, to become a more interesting person, and that is just not on. You should be proud of who you are. In the long run, you’ll end up with no audience or true friends if you continue down this road. It is you who matter, not who your family is, alright?”

Dad looked pointedly at me to see if I understood what he was trying to convey. I nodded.

“Good. We have a proposition for you. It has come up earlier as well, but back then we thought you were too young for this hobby, or…”

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer, because those last words could only mean one thing.

“You mean martial arts?” I asked hopefully.

A deep chuckle from Papa confirmed my deduction, and I threw myself into Dad’s arms.

“I promise I’ll be good, and I won’t be such a…”

“Alright, best not finish that sentence,” Dad said mock serious.

***

Both my fathers had experience in this area. Sort of, anyway. Papa from fencing, Dad from rugby and the combat training when he was in the army.

I was euphoric by the prospect, but still a bit irked after the rebuke, so when two options were suggested, I obviously chose a third one.

“Taekwondo or kickboxing?” Papa asked expectantly.

“Neither,” I said defiantly, but regretted my tone immediately when Dad spoke my name in thatvoice.

“Watson,” Papa prompted, his tone also a bit harsh.

“Sorry,” I said. “Jiu jitsu. Please, let me.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Dad said. “You’ll learn self-defence, respect and humbleness as well as self-esteem. Not sure you need more of the latter, though.”

That elicited another chuckle from Papa. Dad turned to him, cocking an eyebrow, but the mirth on his face ruined is effort to look disapproving.

***

A week later, my martial art career started. Papa had wanted to fully equip me with the correct clothes, mouthguard, gloves and shin guards, but Dad suggested that we postponed the shopping spree until we were certain what was required. The web site had said that I only needed to show up in whatever clothes I found comfortable, so I chose tights and a t-shirt in a breathing material.

When we arrived in the dojo, I learned to bow every time I entered and departed. A sign of respect for the room where the training was executed. 

“No socks,” the trainer told us when several of the children skidded around on the mats.

The trainer wore a crisp white costume, called a Gi, and her black belt had three golden stripes, her name, and Japanese signs embroidered on it.

“I am Sensei Ida. Inside this dojo, you’ll address me as Sensei. Understood?”

“Yes, Sensei,” we said in more or less unison.

When the session was over, we promised our Sensei, that we would keep it up until we attained the black belt. Only two of us were successful at keeping that promise.

Also available on AO3

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[thelordofgifs]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @sallysavestheday and @grey-gazania! I was eyeing this one and hoping for a tag, some great questions here.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 51, although one's a podfic.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 250,683. More than half of which is from last year alone!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently exclusively the Silmarillion, with the occasional little LoTR ficlet.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? the fairest stars, Inflection, an ancient song, all those that follow, Ilimbë. I'm always surprised by an ancient song's popularity – it was a pretty low-effort ficlet – but a solid list nonetheless!

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, always! (Glances nervously at the pile I've accumulated in the last couple of weeks of travelling). I love replying to comments, though. It's so nice to be able to engage with all my lovely thoughtful readers and their excellent thoughts!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ever an anguish that pursued is pretty bleak. before the black gale is also a tragedy of sorts, though I'm not sure that makes it qualify as angsty as such.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Ilimbë ends quite joyfully, although while writing the final scene I did have the shadow of their unhappy future in mind! I think the cleaving's ending is also quite happy, or at the very least cathartic.

8. Do you get hate on fics? No, thankfully! All my readers have been very kind and appreciative <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Three fics so far! All of which were gifts for friends, and made me push my boundaries a little. I'm proud of all of them, though! Smut is less scary than I used to think :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No, never! If I did, it would probably be more of a retelling/AU than straight-up having characters from different fandoms meet.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No – I fear I am rather too much of a control freak for this, and would rather not inflict myself and my pedantry on an unsuspecting co-writer.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Russingon... it's the forbidden romance and the doomed nature of it all and the fact that love wasn't enough to save them :( also the murders, of course.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? boats against the current, the "Maedhros doesn't swear the Oath" AU I blithely started back in 2022, is simply not going anywhere at any sort of speed. Perhaps this is the year! Let's see.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and characterisation! I'm good at emotional beats, I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Description... I tend to write VERY minimally and then have to go back on edits and add in some descriptive language so that the entire story isn't just two talking heads in an empty room. Always very pleased when people compliment my descriptions for that reason – they take conscious effort!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Fine if it's footnoted, I think. I tend to avoid it on the basis that all the dialogue I write has been "translated" from one of Tolkien's languages anyway; and I don't know any real languages well enough to write fic in them.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter, although I've soured on the fandom now for obvious reasons :/ For a while I used to think that I could still enjoy the books I loved so much growing up while separating them from the author, but she's so continually hateful and bigoted that I just... can't gain any enjoyment from the franchise anymore. Which is painful, but I'm glad I have the silm fandom to absorb all my creative energy now!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? the fairest stars! My weird gremlin baby, I love it so. I never expected to care about this fic as much as I did, but I've poured so much thought and heart into it that it was perhaps inevitable. And it's taught me so much about writing cliffhangers :)

No-pressure tags for @eilinelsghost, @searchingforserendipity25, @welcomingdisaster, @that-angry-noldo, @swanmaids, @echo-bleu, @jouissants, @tanoraqui and anyone else who, like me, was eyeing this one hoping to be tagged – @ me and say I tagged you!

[vernfernn]

i don’t think i’ve ever told anyone this but like, during one of my first Skyrim play throughs, i was working up to build Lakeview manner. Lydia was my companion for the majority of the beginning, and she followed me around literally everywhere. holding all the materials i was hoarding, fighting my battles for me (i was new and inexperienced), and generally doing all the heavy work and getting literally no reward.

and when i say holding all my materials, i mean all my materials. all my good gems. my stone. clay. other miscellaneous ingots and bs i was never gonna look at nor use. countless dragon bones, scales, cast iron pots, ingredients and potions i “may need someday”.

she followed me everywhere, fought dragons, went missing when i ran from the dragons, disappeared when i started getting the hang of the game, and i never really bat an eye until i was at the half finished house and several dragons spawned in to attack me (i always fast traveled and that kind of triggered a dragon to always spawn whenever i got to the house) and was constantly screaming for her because i was low level and had no idea what i was doing.

“LYDIA WHERE DID YOUR SWORN TO CARRY MY BURDENS ASS GO IM GETTING FLAMED ALIVE IN FRONT OF A DEAD MUDCRAB!”

anyways

she also was there for when i became thane of falkreath and followed me when i painstakingly tried to figure out who i was supposed to do quests for to become thane.

i remember going into some sort of cave to find a journal for the priest of arkay only for it to be infested with the draugr (my sworn enemies at the time because they freaked me out) and she ended up getting locked out of the boss fight.

she got stuck behind a door while i sniped those idiots from a distance and somehow did not get spotted.

anyways, after building up all the wings for Lakeview (with spotty interior decor) we went to a mine so i could get a bunch of iron because i needed nails and hinges for my basement.

we finally get home and of course—a dragon decides to attack. again.

and i’m fighting for my life here, trying not to die and reload my quick save from literal hours ago.

and lydia thinks this is the perfect time to ask to be my steward.

with fire literally raining down from the heavens, burning my character alive, i hastily say yes without even realizing what she was asking for, and go into the offensive to put down this habanero lizard and steal its soul. classic hot girl shit.

she, me, and rayya (the housecarl you get when becoming thane of falkreath) fight this damn thing and kill it within literal minutes (i felt so proud of myself for not struggling during this fight.)

me later realizing i don’t have a follower behind me anymore when i fast travel to falkreath to buy more building materials for my house. the entire time i was wondering if Lydia glitched again (she got stuck behind a wall in ustengrav before and during that fetch quest for that one priest so i decided i would backtrack once i finished buying building materials to furnish my house.)

i teleport back to my house and almost immediately see lydia walk around like she owned the place. it was then i realized she wasn’t my follower anymore, and i assumed that my game had indeed glitched so i go up to her to see what the problem is or to recruit her again.

que lydias talk screen having the options to decorate my house when i talk to her, and i realize what happened. i immediately have second thoughts when i hear how happy she is about being my Steward and i feel guilty for wanting her as a follower again. so i just leave her there along with like 15k gold to furnish my house.

i also have a housecarl as mentioned before: rayya. and as i’m playing (and marrying some lass from riverwood for the money and literally nothing else because i was DESPERATE to have the house fully furnished.)

i eventually realized it was a bit odd that there where three women living in one house under one roof along side two kids and a husky and other small creature. (it was either a rat, bunny, or mud crab i do not remember.)

que me replaying this character a several more times and keeping up the tradition of having Lydia as a steward for Lakeview and Rayya as another household member but never adopt any kids or marry again because i’m now a master at scamming vendors in the game. plus the kids were annoying, and always ungrateful, and always asking for cash or gifts (none of which they were ever grateful for).

as the years progress i grow attached to my character and start creating a small story for him because we have a lot of history and i got attached.

i’m then wondering how i would explain Lydia and Rayya.

it hits me.

lesbians.

they’re married and employed by a really cool landlord who also happens to be the prophesied savior of the world.

they simply live out their years in a big house with the best scenery and local necromancer to keep them company. once tasked to follow and guard a guy who could yell really loud, now living out in the woods with an early retirement.

now in my head they are married and live in the big ass house with a cool husky, some chickens, a cow, carriage, horse, bard, and the occasional giant on its way to absolutely murder the chickens and cow whenever he stops by. classic cottagecore—warrior—lesbian story.

que me going through the house to see if there would be enough beds for everyone.

minus the one in the wing i used to create a primary bedroom, there’s another bed for two people upstairs. in my mind that bed is theirs and they’re married

lydia kept one of my amulets of mara my first play through when i agreed to let her be my steward (she kept a lot of my stuff, and i was unable to get it back because i felt too guilty taking the one thing she seemed to like). ((also i tried pickpocketing her but failed every single time)).

i grow genuinely attached to this idea and can never keep Lydia as a companion when it comes to getting my house furnished and feel a sense of pride when i’m reuniting her with her one true love.

anyways, that’s the story of how i came to love two completely unrelated characters and no one will understand my attachment to them. i love them so much and want them to be happy.

they’re married, idc

[king-midas-fortnite]

Journal Entry: 00

This entry is a prequel of sorts to everything that's happened. Midas writes about one of his first nights after escaping the Underworld, and a new ability he discovers.

I have been home on the Marigold for all of about a week. While I am overjoyed to be back in the company of my crew, my family, something inexplicably terrible happened tonight. Something I’m struggling to make sense of.

I am far from free of Hades and his torment. I hear his taunts and the haunting voices of all the souls he allowed to goad me constantly. I feel their hands on me while I try to rest, gripping at my arms and throat like they are trying to drag me back every time I feel sleep finally come to me. When it does come, it’s less than an hour before I’m waking myself from dreams of everything I endured in my imprisonment. Horrific memories of the visions the shades plagued me with, along with the ever present memories of my daughter.

Even with all of this, I thought at least that I was physically free. I got out. I’m back. I’m alive and surrounded by people I care for, and who I know now without a doubt return the sentiment. But…I was wrong. I am out, but the underworld has not left me. It’s left behind a rot in my soul that I doubt I’ll ever be able to shake.

Earlier this evening, I surrendered my attempts to sleep and poured myself a few drinks. I’ve been doing that a lot more recently. I’m not proud of it, but there’s not much else I can do. Sometimes if I have enough, it blocks everything out just enough for a brief bit of rest. Anyway, I’d taken a bottle to my office, and had been sitting at my desk for who knows how long. I tried to get some work done, finish remaking files lost to the flood, but I couldn’t. The aforementioned voices of souls dammed to Hades’ domain were louder than usual. Instead of drowning them out, they got worse the more I drank.

The things they say to me…I don’t particularly want to write them down. Maybe someday I’ll be able to forget them. If I’m fortunate enough for that to happen, I don’t want a record to remind myself here. They’re horrific. I think that should be sufficient enough an explanation.

I’m sure—I KNOW, they are just hallucinations and these episodes will pass, but tonight was a nightmare. Usually sounding like a passing whisper or like they are speaking from another room, tonight they were far more corporeal. I could feel breath on my skin while they spoke to me. And again, their hands were all over me. It felt like they were trying to pull me out of my own body. I sat in my chair, holding my head and trying to fight against every instinct to flee where I was for so long as their whispering grew to screaming. If I didn’t know death would only mean returning to that place, it would’ve been a tempting option.

It all grew so loud, so intense and overwhelming that I finally screamed back for them to stop. At the same moment, I’d felt it. I couldn’t breathe. My chest was still. The cold chill of death settled quickly deep in my bones. I’d opened my eyes and shot up from my desk, knocking my chair back behind me while the gold skin of my hands turned the same sickly green of the Styx waters. I didn’t even have time to panic and wonder how I’d died again before I was falling down, passing through the floor underneath me as if it weren’t there at all. I opened my eyes again when my body struck the hard wood of the level beneath my office, completely knocking the wind from me.

When I’d reoriented myself and looked back to my hands, they were normal. My body was intact, gold and living flesh again. I’d stayed on the floor for a little while, staring up at the ceiling I had just phased through as I caught my breath. Eventually I stood and came back up here, confused…frightened. I stood at the doorway to my office a long while, staring at my desk. I don’t know why, or what could possibly possess me to try and recreate that feeling, but I needed to know if I could. Once I started hearing the whispers again, I latched on instead of trying to ignore them. I allowed them to start screaming, and I allowed the dread and cold of the dead to wash over me again.

I saw that wispy green enshroud the edges of my vision, and I stepped forward. Next thing I knew, I was across my office. I’d passed through my desk, and nearly hit the wall on the other side of the room before I was collapsing to my knees and sucking in breath like I’d been drowning. That’s what it had felt like. All over again it felt like being dead. My heart beat like a drum in my chest as it regained its rhythm, and air burned into my lungs as I felt heat return to my limbs.

After a moment I pulled myself up off the floor, fixed my chair, and sat back down where I am now. I have been up all evening, writing as the sun comes up just to try and get a handle on what’s happened. Whatever this new “power” is, I will not use it flippantly. I feel as though it has taken something from me already. If nothing else, a part of my sanity. I will never be free of Hades. Not completely, it seems. If that is the case, so be it. I’ll try to make use of this ability when it’s needed.

I just hope it never is.

Reminder: these are not "public" to other Tumblrverse characters. Okay to reblog, but please do not roleplay on journal entries!

[fyreflys]

I’M WRITING! I’M FINALLY WORKING ON SWAN UPON LEDA. I’M ACTUALLY MAKING SOME DECENT PROGRESS! Someone cheer. I’ve barely touched this thing since the last upload I’ve written over 2k just today alone usually when I go without touching something for this long it means the fic is deadzo. Someone tell me they’re proud. I’M DOING GREAT! (Someone please tell me I’m doing great I desperately need affirmations & attention)

And yes, as always, because I can never seem to help myself, HERE’S A (very long awaited) SNIPPET!!!

Spoilers for ch 7 - you can go find ch 6 in my pinned! <3

——————————

On a sober day, Haymitch arrives with a tiny ratty teddy bear. He pauses and fiddles with it for a moment before he says anything to her.

“This was my brother’s.” He swallows. And then he sets it on the kitchen counter next to Katniss as she tries to make a sandwich that will satisfy her raging taste buds. “I want you guys to have it.” He says softly.

She pauses, and looks at him. This isn’t the first, nor the second time, that he’s brought something of sentimental value for the baby. But the other times Katniss is pretty sure he was at least tipsy. She can tell by the clarity in his eyes that this was a completely sober decision. And it seems to have unsettled him slightly.

“Are you…sure?” She asks gently.

He swallows again, and nods. And then tries to produce a smile. “As long as that little booger doesn’t tear it up, yeah.”

Katniss returns the smile. “Thank you, Haymitch.”

He gives a curt nod, and then turns to go.

“Wait.” Katniss says.

When he turns back she feels like there’s a lump in her throat. She’s not entirely sure why she stopped him. But she realizes she wants to say it to him, that he probably needs to hear it. To know that she understands what it’s like to lose a sibling, someone close to you. Knows how hard it would be to gift their belongings to someone else. To give away what little physical evidence you still have of their existence, what still exists to show that they loved and were loved.

This time she’s the one to swallow before she speaks. “I’m…I’m proud of you, Haymitch.” She says softly.

It feels strange giving her mentor praise, especially when their usual dynamic is always teasing one another and poking at tender spots in each other's armor. Not to try and crack the other, but as a— what Katniss now realizes isn’t so healthy— way to show each other where they still need to toughen up. And as a twisted act of solidarity, that they both can acknowledge that they know the other still has wounds and hurts. It’s an understanding of sorts. An odd one, but it works for them. They’re never sincere like this. When it’s serious it’s always deadpan and to the point, more of a salt coating than a sugar one, making it sting a little more— as if they’re only playing it up— that way it’s easier to brush off and pretend it doesn’t hurt that much. It’s what they’ve always done. And Katniss feels like she might be breaking it.

She says the rest anyways.

“I- I think they would be proud of you too. I know- I know this means a lot-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there sweetheart.” He holds up a hand. “Just- that’s enough.”

It’s a quite brisk brush off, almost rude in the way he nearly snaps it. But Katniss knows the reality is that being sincere with him hurts a little too much to handle, and that’s why he reacts this way.

And then he surprises her. He decides to break their usual dance as well.

He steps forward and crushes her in a tight hug. He smells like smoke and sawdust and dirt. But it’s Haymitch. She hugs back, acutely aware that the last time they did this was over six years ago, just before the quell. She’d been the one in tears then.

“Thank you.” He says quietly into the top of her hair, voice both soft and gruff in the same breath.

When he pulls back he does his best to hide the tear, making to wipe it like his eye was itchy. She doesn’t point it out.

“Outta go finish that crib Peeta started. Make me a sandwich too, would ya? I’m starving.” He quips like their moment never happened.

She rolls her eyes.