#anyway. go read the fic. everything is very Shenanigans

[mispatchedgreens]

across every universe, you'll be able to hear wang baoxiang moaning for plot reasons.

a scene from the xianxia au fic by @thestoriesthatweweave !! another level of 'you do an art, i do an art' bc <333

[classygreydove]

kkob/obkk fic recs

5 kkob fics that are criminally underrated - obv we all love rocks fall; scene end, Kamui Blues, and New Recruit, (if you haven't read those, I highly recommend them) but these works deserve some appreciation too!

kakaobi fluff series by Eye_like_trauma - 6k, ONGOING

G, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito. Just a lot of fluff, crushes, and pining.

[dove's notes: Every single on of these one-shots is just precious. And also makes me laugh so hard. Peak content for this ship.]

2. Hey, Wouldn't It Be Mortifying If We Both Survived This? by Eye_like_trauma - 4k, COMPLETE

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Kakashi & Minato & Rin & Obito. Kannabi fix-it, love confessions, feelings realization, first kiss, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort

Obito can’t hear anything beyond the cave crumbling around them, thousands of tons of rock cascading down and crushing everything it can. Can’t see beyond the dust in the air, the vibrations of the world around him. Couldn’t, anyway, because he can barely keep his eyes open. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers into Kakashi’s hair. He knows Kakashi won’t hear him. Wouldn’t, even if he were conscious. That’s okay; the words are as much for him as they’re for Kakashi. He presses himself closer, focuses on the warmth of Kakashi as the world fades in and out, as every bit of remaining light is snuffed and he can feel debris falling on every side of them, huge and heavy and deadly, if they’re hit. He can’t feel Kakashi’s heart beat past the world falling in on itself, but he tells himself it’s there, tells himself that Kakashi’s not dead.

[dove's notes: literally my favorite confession fic. i laughed, cried a little, and felt many fuzzy feelings. bb tsundere kakashi is adorable.]

3. The Things We Found in the Ashes of Our World by shefrommo - 40k, ONGOING

M, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sukea/Tobi, strangers to friends to enemies, identity shenanigans

Ironically enough, Kakashi didn't start having treasonous thoughts until after he'd already committed treason. __ Or, during a mission gone wrong, Kakashi discovers Obito's alive. He never comes back from that mission. Five years later, Team Seven stumbles across a pair of Akatsuki members--both of whom are working under false identities, both of whom were declared dead years ago.

[dove's notes: Incomplete, but so so good. Tobi and Sukea (and their headspaces) are both very well-written, as is the relationship chemistry. The identity shenanigans are great.]

4. Quiet Revolutions by Anjelle - 68K, ONGOING

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sakumo & Kakashi, Sakumo & Obito. Canon div, dogteeth!kk, Hidden Cloud Village worldbuilding, Identity Shenanigans, Secret Identity, anbu!obito, enemies to friends to lovers

Tensions are running high between Kumo and Konoha. Between the targeting of the Hyuga clan for their Byakugan and an unknown ANBU running interference on missions, their tentative alliance is strained and war is just one slip-up away. Not wanting any part in this, Obito is dragged into it anyway when he's given a mission to find out who instigated the attack. Instead, he gets more than he bargained for when a certain Kumo-nin lies in wait on the other side of Kamui. OR: Due to extenuating circumstances, Kakashi grows up in Kumo and decides that this strange, masked ANBU skulking around his village would make for a fun distraction from his boredom.

[dove's notes: I really enjoyed the dynamics here. obito is bamf but also an idiot. kakashi is bamf but also an idiot. so canon dynamic, pretty much. also identity intrigue, worldbuilding, this fic is full of good stuff.]

5. Truth and what it takes (and what it gives) - 11K, COMPLETE

M, Graphic Depictions of Violence. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, TW for mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, Hurt/Comfort, Blood & Gore

"Kakashi's pupils are wide and fixed, like those of dead animals. The Uchiha has never seen him with that expression before. Obito wonders if he’s dreaming it, then he notices the metallic edges around his frame. The sink. A mirror. He’s looking through Kakashi’s eyes."

[dove's notes: very good relationship study of obkk during kakashi's anbu era, and the writing style is riveting. Dark, so not for fluff fans.]

[chocol4tte]

Lately I've been dwalling into the Batfam fandom again, even obsesing more in a fic that I've been writing in my notebooks since 2018, but that's for another moment.

I don't usually read too many comics, and tbf, there are a lot and the timelines are a fucking nightmare, I do plan, however, in reading DCceased (?), I love the man that Damian became growing up, and sadly I spoiled myself with the ending, suffice to say, it will be heart-breaking.

Anyway, as I was reading some batfam fics, especially this one: Who tells a tale of unspeaking death? who will brave this bitter grief? by an orphan account, I absolutley loved it and I love Damian so much, so I wondered how things would've been if:

When Jon left to space with his grandfather to space, Damian was not supportive at first with that idea, as he was receiving some weird vibes from the whole situation with Jon's grandfather... and kind of Personal experience in a way.

Jon decided to ignore him and say that it will be fine, he needs and wants to learn more about his kryptonian side with his grandfather, Jon and Damian leave with a bitter taste of hteir friendship but, well, may Damian can do other things in the meantime then.

Damian decided to take the time for the Year of Blood penance and meets Maya and Suren; it happens like canon, except, Damian remains dead, things didn't work out and with Dick now being Ric, the family mourns the youngest and now they cannot resurrect him. They simply won't, against their wish, need to mourn and accept death.

In just a matter of a two weeks, the Batfamily are receiving the support they need, baby steps, however when Clark lears of the situation he is at the terrible position of notifying his son of his best friend's death. Its already heart breaking seeing his friend's grief over a child no older than 14... Clark is preparing with Lois to deliver the notice.

Its not until some week that Jon returns now almost 6 years older as a 17 teenager, with the determination of going home and speak with his family and best friend Damian, thinking how in response he will tell him an "I told you he was creepy af." and maybe, maybe go back with their friend shenanigans, save the cities and have more adventures... telling him a bout the people he met and the animals he saw in different worlds! Hopefully those 6 years haven't changed his friend much...

When he meets his dad, Jon has a heartfelt reunion with his parents, explains what happened as the years went by and the intergalactic heroes and community he met in his journey back home, and how Damian was correct about his grandfather and wishes to see how his friend has grown up!

Clark soon stops Jon from continue talking about meeting Damian very quickly, the atmosphere becomes akward after that and it's Lois who breaks the news to Jon, he has been out in space for weeks in the first place, not years, and even if he wants to see his friend, well... Lois doesn't get the words out of her mouth. She thought she could do it, but the words died in her mouth.

Jon is atonished, is that the reason why his mom and dad stayed so unchanged after 6 years? It was just weeks? He doesn't know what to think of it, until he just flies away from his parents without much of a thought but his heart beating faster and faster as he flies to a different direction and notices that everything is still the same, it dawns on him as he passes by multiple buildings he and his dad used to fly over years weeks ago ... how he was robbed of his childhood. Robbed!

Its not until dusk was setting that he realized he was flying directly towards Gotham City, he needed to speak with his best friend, unaware that his father was flying right behind him trying to stop him.

He wasn't fast enough, Jon is already knocking at the Wayne mansion and almost takes the doors down when there was no response.

Jon is taken aback by Alfred's appearence, he looked older, like he would supposed to look after some time, this already made him a little sick in the stomach, he knew grief, he saw it in his missions in space.

Alfred doesn't recognize Jon, not very much until he sees the Superman symbol in his chest, followed by the very same Superman behind him, apologizing to him and quickly explaining that Jon came back and they had a situation. Clark was planning on taking Jon away from the Wayne mansion until Jon asks where is Damian.

There is no response other than a slight flinch that doesn´t go unnoticed. Jon is insisting where his friend is, and cue Bruce, barely groomed and looking like someone has taken 30 years from him, he is a little surprise by Jon's presence, but when he is asked where Damian is for the third time, he just looks at a defeated and nervous Clark behind him and just... looks at him, either deciding what to do, if lcosing the door and ignoring a teenage boy who will most likely demand answers from him, but thankfully Tim and Jason arrive as well by seeing the conmmotion downstairs and they take it from there.

Jason tries to make small talk in the way, babling about a growth spurt or some cryptonain genes, ignoring that Jon aged faster in space, Clark is trying to explain the situation as well, following both vigilantes to a garden a little further from the mansion.

Tim and Jon are silent all the way, until they see Titus and Alfred the cat in a distance, Tim began talking about Damian going for a redemption journey from a mission he had years before where he had taken multiple lives in just one year, how he met the daugther of one of Damian's victims and the heir of an old Al' Ghul enemy who ended up befriending. They were silently listening to Tim until they stopped at a headstone, where it read in clear letters Damian's name, his birth date... and death date, plus a message and Robin Symbol.

Jon felt as if he was in space but falling into the Void. It was a lie. It has to be. He looked at his dad, saying that it was a cruel joke, but stopped himself from saying it out loud when Clark is looking away, from him and the tombstone.

Anyway, i haven't really given a thought to this, mostly I would love to read this scenario and Jon asking why they aren't bringing Damian back, and when he is being told that no, Damian will continue resting in peace, Jon would be devastated, at first angry... but later on crying on how if he had stayed, his dear friend would be alive and having a future... how he didn't say a proper goodby to Damian and their last interaction was a fight.

Just like Damian's family, all that is left are memories and regrets, something they'll carry for the rest of their lives. :)

[myownwholewildworld]

well, i decided to bite the bullet on this one! thank you to the lovelies @almostfoxglove and @gothcsz for the tags, and a special thanks to @jolapeno for this beautiful 2024 tootathon event! i think it's a pretty common theme between us lot, but seems like tooting ourselves is not our forte - at least not mine! i had been lurking in the shadows for a long while, but july came around and i said, why the hell not? so basically i'm a baby in the fandom, learning from the very best. i've been writing for almost two decades now, but mostly in spanish and on different platforms. i found myself looking for a creative outlet this summer and transitioning out of my online rpg era (foroactivo/jcink, i won't miss you). i am so glad i did, cause i found a home here 🥹 anyway enough yapping!

i have written over 170k words this year (probs a lot more if i take into account my rpg shenanigans) and at one point i've been very attached to everything i've written, so it's really hard to pick some favourites, but here we go!

per aspera ad astra (marcus acacius series) - this is one series i wasn't expecting to write as a fic this year as it was planned for something else, but here we are! i am just enjoying all the angst, it's like therapy lmao

the right kind of wrong (dbf!joel miller one shot) - look... the brain rot won and i gave in to the dbf trope. i loved writing it and seeing that other people enjoyed it too!

the way to a great wide somewhere (beast!din djarin one shot) - i just... idk 🫠 the moment i thought of this i knew i had to put it into words or i would quite literally die.

when the moon howls (javier peña one shot) - as i was rewatching narcos i had this itch i needed to scratch and the jolabrew + withcheese fall challenge gave me the perfect excuse to try my hand at writing Peña.

i regrettably have not been giffing as much as i would have liked to this year, but i promised myself i would pick this up in 2025 again! but here are my two favourite gifsets i've made.

tlou 1x03 - if you know me, you'll know that my favourite episode from tlou is 1x03 because i love bill and frank to fucking bits 😭 it broke me and it healed me in so many different ways.

pp press tour interview - when i watched this the first time i was like "yeah 1000% agree" because marcus acacius in that white armour is my fucking everything.

nothing of this would have happened if it wasn't for the people who stop by and read our stories, and for the writers who feed us amazing fics - writers and readers alike, god i love y'all. we all keep this amazing fandom alive. and i know there's been some rough lows this year, but here we still are!

i could go on and on tagging people who make me smile every fucking day but i'd be bound to miss someone and i could not forgive myself if i did that. so please, take this as my heartfelt thank you to every single one of you. i see you, i appreciate you, i love you. like for real.

some np tags for moots who might want to participate (and apologies if you already have!):

@joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @inept-the-magnificent @punkseyes @styleispunk @aurorawritestoescape @syd-djarin @katiexpunk @baronessvonglitter @orcasoul

[birchbow]

Chapters: 8/17 Rating: Mature Relationships: Gamzee Makara & Karkat Vantas, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Karkat Vantas, Gamzee Makara, Lord English (Homestuck), Doc Scratch (Homestuck), Homestuck Ensemble, Calliope (Homestuck), The Felt (Homestuck), It's really a 'everybody is around doing things' fic I genuinely don't know how to tag this Additional Tags: Winter Soldier Pastiche, with everything that entails so read carefully!, Humanstuck, Urban Fantasy, Home-Brew Magic System Shit Don't @ Me, Time Shenanigans, Karkat Vantas Makes Bad Decisions This Is A Forewarning, Polyamory Negotiations, Hurt/Comfort, Lord English's Fun-Time Brainwashing Time-Travel Torture Gang, Aftermath Of...... Everything....., Past Torture(physical/psychological/spiritual/emotional--largely inexplicit but not entirely), Past Brainwashing, Possession, implied/referenced past rape/non-con, (sexually not described in detail and more explicity nonsexual Cal-flavored intimacy/tenderness), God Finds It Funny To Hurt You But Also Won't Let You Die, Let's be clear: plotty gamzee whump with a, Happy Ending

Chapter 8: Time Without Space

“Uh, okay,” says Tavros. “So. Fifteen—definitely very, very dead corpses. Okay. Why—I really hate that I’m asking this, out loud, in real life, but why aren’t there any skulls?”

This is a callout for Lord English why is your whole aesthetic so stupid. anyway scary buzzcut woman go brrrr

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Danmei Fanfic Nightclub: Writer’s Menu

Choose an author, send them a prompt based off of their writing preferences and get a short fic back in return.

@talk-danmei-to-me

Ships: Ranwan, Ximang, Hexie, Cezhou, Chengxian

Fic Requests: Canon compliant shenanigans, modern Aus - Mafia, University, Coffee Shop, Office Worker, Omegaverse (but no pregnancy or kidfics), any kink (bar age play), anything you’ve seen in a toxic yaoi. Angst welcome but not compulsory.

Will not write: I'll write pretty much anything apart from female versions of characters and any kind of being domestic with babies within omegaverse.

@sunbunnyyy

Ships: wangxian, nieyao, nielan, 3zun, zhuiling

Fic requests: anything really!

Will not write: character bashing (?) classical mpreg. i don’t really have hard limits at this point that might change later.

@sleepyssnail

Ships: Any Svsss, Mdzs, Tgcf or Guardian pairing

Fic Requests: AUs, hurt/comfort, fluff, humor, canon divergence, inquire for more!

Will not write: - smut (may change in the future, but not right now), kinks, non con, or dehumanization

@isolapyrena

Ships: I'll have a go at any 2ha, Yuwu, Case File Compendium, SVSSS, TGCF, QJJ, Misvil, How to Survive as a Villain or After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine, but I prefer writing pairings other than the main couples.

Fic Requests: anything within reason. I like fix its best. I am writing a mid c20th Cold War AU for Gu Mang and Mo Xi - ideas for that always welcome.

Will not write: - Anything tasteless. Not intentionally anyway.

@fixation-central

Ships: i'm writing for everything mxtx, erha and TDTBPF! Favorite ships: The main couples, but also bromances. love a good bromance

Fic requests: fluff and angst and smut!!!!!

@ai-the-broccoli

Ships: I currently know BAB and 2ha, and *may* be open to writing any of most of the ships within those stories (please ask and I'll consider)! Right now, my favourite ships are Hexie, Xue Meng/Jiang Xi, Ranwan, Shi Mei/Hua Bi'nan, Sun Ping/Jin Xiuhe, Duan Wen/Li Yun, one-sided Anthony -> Xie Qingcheng, and whatever I am forgetting at this moment.

Fic requests: Mostly anything maybe?

- Please especially try to send requests for my favourite rarepairs as listed above

- Naturally I would love to write M/M, but I also love F/F and would be open to writing F/F version of the ships. While generally I wouldn't write M/F-fied pairings where one of them is genderbend but the other is not, this doesn't extend to Ranwan interpretation where Mo Ran is a man and Chu Wanning is transfem (because I like both cis male Chu Wanning as per canon and the transfem interpretation of Chu Wanning).

- Comedy, drama, angst, fluff, etc. Maybe crackfic if I feel inspired by your idea.

Will not write: Currently... maybe no smut? Actually wait idk, you can try to request something, and if it happens to be something I feel like I can write, I can do it -- but otherwise no. No actual pregnancy. I'm mostly not very interested in the canon M/F romances mentioned in 2ha and BAB. May add more in the future.

@jafndaegur

Ships: Wangxian, XiCheng, 3Zun, Chengjue, WangCheng, Hualian, Fengqing (honestly I'll write for most MDZS and TGCF ships, just ask ^^)

Will not write: No hardcore smut (fade to black scenes are chill tho)

Fic Requests: Hurt / Comfort, Angst, Angst with happy ending, rarepairs, and of course fluff with no plot 🫶

If you want to join as a writer just let me know and I’ll put you on the list.

@bookwyrm-art-stuff

Ships: Most things MXTX, including non-ship fics and rarepairs (though I can't promise you my perception will match yours.) I'd prefer not to do polycules (nothing against them but I've never written one and don't read enough to know how.) Also please no junlian, it makes my skin crawl.

Fic requests: Complex angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, anything domestic and anything to do with nature (the latter two might end up in your fic even if you don't request it.) Also, especially if you send me a rarepair, prepare for the fic to be half relationship study; I love analyses.

Will not write: smut, omegaverse. There's probably other things I should add here but I can't think of them, so if you ask me for something I can't do I'll tell you so, and why :)

[meetinginsamarra]

Fanfics I Really Liked in May 2024

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock (-ish).

+++++

This May has been totally dominated by Calais_Reno's May Prompts 2024 writing frenzy. I've "only" read the ficlets/fics that have been created for this occasion. There are so many great stories!!

Here is the collection Calais_Reno made for this event  May 2024 Prompts Take a look, there are so many fics/ficlets in there!

+++++

Sherlockian Limericks of Dubious Memory and There once was a man lived in London... -- The Sherlock Holmes - May Prompts 2024 by Friday411 @friday411

May is for Limericks by helloliriels @helloliriels

Screw Spring, May is for Limericks by GhostOfNuggetsPast @ghostofnuggetspast

Four collections of limerick shenanigans! They come in all tastes but are always delicious.

+++++

Come What May by weeesi @weeesi

A collection of great ficlets for the prompts.

May Prompts 2024 Ficlets by Raina_at @raina-at

Another collection of great ficlets, some take place in one of Raina_at's AUs.

Trifles 3 (May Prompts 2024) by Calais_Reno @calaisreno

The ficlets our impresario of the may prompt event created.

Open Your Eyes by JRow @jrow

John fell and Sherlock's about to fall apart.

Angst, hurt/comfort and a happy ending in this fic that follows the 31 prompts.

May Has 31 Days by SophB_Holmes @bs2sjh

What if one day everything changed?

31 shorts as part of CalaisReno's May Prompt Challenge

The Luckiest Girl in the World by Lock_John_Silver @lisbeth-kk

Awesome idea to write one ficlet for every year in Rosie Watson's life, thus following her from baby to adult. So many lovely moments!

You're Not Designed to be Alone by thalialunacy 

A journey from friends to more, told in bite-sized pieces. 

Very tasty bites they are.

2024 May Prompts from @Calais_Reno by thegildedbee @thegildedbee

John had eventually figured out, post-Reichenbach, that Sherlock was alive and working on getting rid of Moriarty's network, and that he had strong-armed Mycroft into facilitating his being able to also go out on the road and help protect Sherlock on his missions.

This became an impromptu fic following the prompts!

What Hands Hath Wrought by emilycare @keirgreeneyes

With Ghast pilot John Watson by his side, can Holmes overcome a new threat offered by eccentric genius, Professor Moriarty?

This has become to be known as the Kaiju AU and boy to they wreak havoc on poor old London!

+++++

*self plug 🙂* I wrote two fics for the may prompts

The Perfect Place aka The Bed Shop Boys AU and White Pony Tattoo a tattoo shop AU. Both with happy Johnlock endings.

[labyrinthofsphinx]

Hello! This might be a silly question, but I was curious if you have any future Hazbin/Helluva fics or ideas planned once transmissions is completed? Whether it be Drift or Vox & Al centric or otherwise? Absolutely no pressure of course, you do whatever makes you happy at your own time, I know you’ve sorta elaborated a little on it in other asks before but I wasn’t completely sure lol (everyone btw please go read these fics and give them traction! They are so so good!)

Awww, Anon <3 You got me all blushy now! Really though, glad you like my fics! Was actually in the middle of writing up the next Transmission chapter too, coincidentally <33

But yeah, actually I have a list of different ideas for more helluva/hazbin shenanigans, mostly taking place in the same verse! Haven't decided which to actually start penning yet, and maybe you guys could let me know what interests you the most! Here's a short synopsizes of the ones I had sorta outlined:

For those of you that have read Statistical Outliers, you might remember Vox mentioning an event called the Grand Exhibition, an annual ball that's thrown by overlords for overlords. You might also recall that there's a party that originally inspired that one, a goetia party which even Vox described as 'beyond exclusive'. Well, our media man himself warrants an invitation to this exclusive event, the first overlord personally invited since the one that started the overlord ball! But there's both pluses and minuses to be one of the only Sinners among an echelon of demons who, um, have their own agendas. I say one of because now that's Lucifer is back and trying to spread his wings more, his daughter convinces him to take some of the guests from the hotel as a plus one, or two, or six. Which may include, the the ire of the devil himself, our favorite radio host. Sad as it is to say, Vox might just be safer dancing with Alastor than rubbing elbows with this crowd.

That's the short synopsis but it's kinda a celebration of the hellverse as a whole. You might see some appearances from characters you might not suspect, like Drift, the Sins, famous goetia, and potentially a dysfunctional work family of imps ;)

Another idea actually branches off an initiative that Charlie comes up with, with the assistance of Emily, hoping to help bridge the gap between sinners and winners. And what better way to do that than a friendly interview where Sinners can apologize to the Winners that they may have been sent upstairs before their time. That's the pitch, anyways. In reality? Vox, master of television, is brought on board to help make this whole thing run smooth. And of course he plans on bending it all to his own benefit. Everything kinda gets derailed when the first interview ends up being Drift, meeting the man he hit on accident. And you know? The victim here might not act the way you'd think for an angel.

Aside from some more Drift and Vox interactions, this one was going to go into the kid's backstory in more detail, and kinda comment on the disbalance between judgement of Winners and Sinners. What separates one from the other? Sometimes, all it takes is one bad day. Or being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And Vox is over here looking to make this whole thing turn to his advantage.

On the more Helluva boss centered side of things, I do have a fic regarding Striker and his backstory. Written from the perspective of Striker's childhood best friend, its a story about the wilds of Wrath, where rugged childhood adventures turn to gritty adult drama. Its a rollercoaster, meant to show off how exactly Striker got to be who he was and introducing another character who is going to feature here and there throughout the intertwined webs of stories, my helluva oc, Wyld. This one is already written out quite a bit, nearly 200,000 words at this point, just never published. Wasn't sure there'd be much interest in it. Fair warning, this one gets dark in places because it's very much inspired by gritty realistic westerns, like Eastwood's Unforgiven.

Those are the ones on the docket right now, mostly because those are the ones I've outlined so far, but I'm always adding to it. For anyone interested in my fics, the first one is Statistical Outliers, which is where the main man of television meets a scrawny hairball by the name of Drift and takes it upon himself to, uh, rehome him. And why does it seem like Alastor's sticky fingers are involved in this somehow? The sequel, currently ongoing, is called Transmission Not Received , which is a mystery that forces a reluctant Alastor and Vox to work together to figure out who's running across Pentagram City and nabbing kids from right under their parents' noses in the dead of night.

Hoping to get the next chapter of Transmission up soonish and, boy, is it a doozey!

Either way, let me know what you guys think, maybe check out the fics if ya see something that interests you, and a special shout out back to Anon for making my day! <3

Thanks for the ask! <33

[missdarhk]

hellooo

(to be clear im the one commenter talking about ares and ody pranking poseidon in ur au)

wanted to re-emphasize how good ur fic is, also wanted to interact w more people obsessed with epic bc epic is like half my life atm (the hyperfixation is real...)

anyways re ur post about english, that's honestly so valid, and im a native english speaker

in 9th grade we had to do an entire unit on how to use an apostrophe. in an english-speaking school in an english-speaking country. in a class of native english speakers.

english is such a silly (/neg) language tbh i've seen native speakers with absolutely atrocious grammar and spelling

anyways enjoy these two of my favorite images demonstrating why english is so absurd...

and there was going to be this other image but i was rereading it and noticed that there was this one sentence that was actually really offensive so im going to type out the ones that arent lol

The bandage was wound around the wound.

The farm was used to produce produce.

The dump was so full it had to refuse more refuse.

We must polish the Polish furniture.

He could lead if he would get the lead out.

The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.

A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

I did not object to the object.

There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

They were too close to the door to close it.

And finally, read and lead rhyme, and so do read and led. But read and lead don't rhyme, and neither do read and read.

(For bonus pronunciation shenanigans, look up The Chaos by G. Nolst Trenite. For bonus definition shenanigans, look up contronyms. Dust means to remove the dust from and to sprinkle with a powder or dust.)

hi!!! (big fan of the pranking idea)

thank you, you're so sweet! and I GET IT. epic has consumed all of my thoughts, it's in everything I see now. I CANT WAIT for the Ithaca saga but also am I ready? I don't know. I'm ready. but ready for it to be over? 😭😭 very exciting though

BOO ENGLISH. INTERNET SLANGS ARE COOLER. so many little things trip me over. I never know when to use "in" or "on". the other day I was wondering why you say "laun dree" instead of "laun dry". it's always the most random stuff lmao, that image is so true all the struggles are real

mila.exehasstoppedworking you kind of broke my brain in the last ones. I only had a singular braincell left 😭😭😭

[cosmo-craftin]

Hey Night at Museum fandom you still alive?

If so do any of you read reader fics?

Cause I’m thinking of dropping an insert reader crack taken seriously, shenanigan story. Not gonna have a lot of romance but definitely adventures of an average over anxious night guard absolutely BSing their way through securing a paycheck.

Here’s a sneak peak,

———————————-

You lowered your mug from of tea from your face and turned around. Watching as the neat craftsmanship historical miniatures suddenly move before your very eyes and functioning like a small town. Moving hauntingly in way that could only be described as…well nothing, nothing at all.

Clearly there was something wrong with the amount of sleep you were getting, maybe one to many all-nighters. To much studying and not enough self care. You know what, Cristy was right those brownies were not quite so cosmic brownies. That Thomas the sketchy, suspicious, homie, who lingered in the alleyway behind the J building probably was a drug dealer. That his brownies were laced with malicious intent, suspicious powder sugar and cosmic anomalies not joy. Because clearly this was all one fever dream, clearly you were smelling colors and seeing stars. Because clearly there was no way the itty bitty little cowboy in front of you just started walking towards you.

“Oh hey! You’re the newbie Gigantor told us bout” Glass shattered.

It was going to be a loooong night.

——————

“Larry, come get me I’m scared” you said screaming in absolute despair into the phone, from your spot underneath the desk. “The miniatures are scrambling everywhere, Theodore Rosevelvet is making out with Sacagawea, there a civil brawl in the bathroom and I swear I just a lion shredding up the trash cans. And now there’s a T. rex! A FREAKING REXSOURES MONSTROSITY!”

“Calm down just throw the bone to Rexy, you’ll be fine. I know you’re scared right now, I was to my first time too but everything will be fine. I’ll be there in five minutes if you’re really truly struggling. You don’t have anything to worry about anyways, she don’t bite.”

Rexy? the two ton bone bodied dinosaur above the desk, the fudge muffin about to diy some ripped jeans onto your uniform, HAH, “Yes it do!”

——————-

“Sooo? I know what happened last night was a little odd. But I’ve read the manual properly now, yaknow terms, conditions, and everything. I’m pretty sure I can figure this out now.”

“Ahkmenrah said you hid in the bathroom stall, crying and listening to David Bowie for the rest of the shift.”

“Listen buddy, between you me. You know damn well you would be in tears, if you had to fight off a pack of wild animals simply to be get that of minimum wage.”

“I was not in fact in tears.”

“Well fuck you Larry.”

[gojonanami]

I just hit a very unbelievable milestone yesterday and I still can’t quite believe it—

10,000 feels like a number I can’t quite even fathom and I truly thank every one of you for being here. truly I started this blog because I had jjk brainrot and I was going through a lot of difficult life changes and writing has always been my coping mechanism

so the fact so many of you enjoy my work has made it so much more fun and so much more rewarding 🥹 and I don’t want to ramble too much (because I feel it’s very self congratulatory) but thank you for every reblog, comment, ask, and like you all have sent my way. it’s meant the world and this blog has been my oasis from just difficult life situations.

especially your asks — they never ever fail to make me smile or laugh—I still can’t quite fathom the amount of asks I get but I’m so glad I get to interact with you all so much. it literally is everything to me.

I will definitely do another follower celebration event (once I finish my 2K one because wow I’m still working on that one somehow 😭).

I want to also thank every mutual I have on here - I will only not list you because I am afraid I will miss someone and it will haunt me forever lol. but you know who you are and I love all of you.

also a very very special thanks to @laneysmusings and @gaylatteart who literally put up with beta reading and listening to me ramble about my fics and ideas and jjk in general (even though they are not really into jjk at all haha). I love them so much and truly my writing would not be the same at all without them and I cannot thank them enough for dealing with my shenanigans 💕🥹

anyway I said I wouldn’t ramble so I won’t so!! thank you all so much and I’ll be here still writing away!! 💕🥹 and I hope you guys will stick around.

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

Anyways the “essay” about the energy sword to character development pipeline below the cut

Ok so like yea tucker-crunchbite-junior is, obviously, the first instance of the sword-quest-companion theme/trio that im like, rattling in my head rn

Tucker finds the sword, crunchbite shows up and theres the “quest” that challenges tucker both in the false intent (you need to be the hero) and the true intent (SA leading to Junior which is not handled well but it IS important) which is a push against tucker’s character thus far in that he’s the comic relief, make everything a sex joke archetype— he doesnt take it seriously, he doesnt see himself as important beyond getting just enough recognition to be “hot” and now he’s made to be the so called “hero” and the true plot puts him in the one position that he probably never thought could be him. Bc he wants to get laid so… yeah. Pushes his character if you give it like three seconds of critical thinking and not just the standard “haha alien baby bullshit” (that said, i do enjoy fics that explore crunchbite more and play with the potential of the “joke” shitty character into someone less sinister, but im doin my best to stick to canon rn)

And JUNIOR, oh man, because theres the thing that really solidifies this for me like

The dude who doesnt care doesnt bother is all jokes and ‘man whatever’ energy is a dad, and it starts with him trying to avoid it but he really fucking quickly steps the FUCK up for Junior and its the start of his development that people are like “oh he learns to be a leader on chorus” which i mean kinda yeah but he never struck me as a Leader even on Chorus even tho he does decidedly lead, its not the same as when kimball leads or when wash leads or carolina

He’s leads as a dad bc he is a dad

Not always a good one, but he’s trying and yea sometimes that means being the asshole, sometimes that means screwing up but it also means you fucking care and you take responsibility and you put yourself in danger first (the rescue mission, leaving the lieutenants behind)

And that doesnt start on chorus! Its the most evident there sure but

it starts with junior

It starts with him going after tex to protect his son, it starts with him trying to be a diplomat so they stay together, in sending junior away so he is safe while tucker buys time protecting the temple, it STARTS with him looking at church and going “leave my kid out of this” and yeah the way rvb was written and approached does Not take that seriously bc it wouldnt and if it did it would be a very different show but the implications are there and its acknowledged with tucker’s photograph of junior with his 5th grade basketball team (“i know right? Who carries actual pictures anymore” -tucker) which i could go on about THAT too but suffice to say its very clear that tucker cares so gd much about his kid and yeah his character development isnt super linear but you can basically pinpoint when it starts with the sword and junior

The second run of this trio of things is actually grif which is admittedly, a stretch, a big ol reaching for straws (okay, TECHNICALLY grif is the third run, but i’ll address that in a minute) largely a stretch bc grif… does the pattern backwards

This IS S16 stuff so if ur a shisno paradox hater i respect that, i however am gnawing on it with everything i have and will be going feral so this is your warning thank u for reading the tucker side of it mwah appreciate ya

Anyways

Grif does his plot backwards during timetravel shenanigans

He gets the alien companion/friend who contrasts his character first in Huggins

Grif is a loyal friend, but he is lazy, even after s15’s breakdown and apparent change of tune, he’s still looking to take the path of least resistance, avoiding the call, trying to keep things from moving

Enter Huggins: zippy, full of energy, excitable and just so different in that she is not only so proactive she puts herself in danger (which helps everyone in the long run/plot but its the principle) but shes so fucking lonely

As far as she knows, her family is dead, except for muggins who is so dettached from her, he might as well be a coworker and not her brother

Compared to grif, who has a family even when he tries to push them away (the reds, the blues, KAIKAINA) but hates taking action

Huggins is the start for grif’s arc of “it sucks but someones gotta do it” which in their case is best shown as the trudge across the bottom of the english channel which is so fucking funny to me but it really pushes both of them and puts them firmly in the friends category

Huggins cant zip ahead without grif, grif cant stop moving because huggins wont let him, so they find their little balance of gas vs brakes and together they cruise along p well

The actual push of the “quest” is grif having to be the one who steps up (kinda like tucker but its to the left) he’s the one who starts getting everyone together again across the timeline, even if he is very,,,

Well he’s very Grif about it, but it is still fundamentally, the change in character

Tucker isn’t a always good dad, Grif isn’t always a good instigator of action

But theyre trying and theyre working on it and grif’s arc suffers a Little from being so late in the show and thus not having much of a parallel to pull on but you could argue he gets the parallel from s15 anyways with the refusal of the call (from fake church/loco) and rescue mission but i hesitate to call that a parallel bc its literally back to back but an argument could be made for it which i love

Enter part two: the alien quest giver

“Wait wasnt that huggins”

NOPE huggins was alien companion! The Bestie in grif’s case,

The alien fetch quest comes from atlas, in that stupid wishing sequence but cmon it wouldnt be rvb if the character development wasnt sandwiched inbetween obnoxious gags and stupidity

The quest is less important here admittedly bc again, with grif doing this in reverse its not the challenge to his principle character that it was for tucker, his connection to huggins was the challenge, and this becomes the final push into the development, the “you have a role, now play it” that gives grif the final shove into Doing Things literal!! And his prize? For this character development arc? An alien sword

And thus the inverse version reaches an end, sort of (im pissed that technically he loses his sword, im also ignoring that he loses it in canon bc he fucking earned it okay this is a bit of canon i will ignore and loophole my way around it)

And now we track back to Chorus and to the second iteration of the sword-quest-companion plot

Locus

Now okay i will admit this is conjecture and pepe-silvia-on-corkboard-with-red-string fuckery at this point but hear me out okay!

He gets the sword with Felix’s death. We know this. What we dont know is how the fucking hell he gets off Chorus! We just see him show up later with A’rynasea. The vaguely alien (maybe sentient?? AI? Its implied with the way he addresses her but we literally have her for like two episodes) ship that seems to be the driving force (literal) (bc shes his ship) behind his chosen redemption arc where he pushes himself to help others at no apparent benefit to himself, but because it is, and i quote “the right thing to do”

Arguably, Santa could be Locus’ quest giver, seeing as how he is the one who triggers the whole shift in view for Locus in the first place and that is, technically, what crunchbite does and what atlas finalizes for grif! But the problem is we simply dont have enough of A’rynasea to draw the parallel between her and Locus as personalities, as companions for it to work for me??? But that might just be me overthinking? But it does make Locus’ version is a bit messier depending on who you consider his quest-giver but as far as I’m concerned, he’s still on his quest snd its just up to interpretation if A’rynasea is his companion?? or if theres a secret third alien for Locus that we never wouldve seen even if they planned for that bc its red vs blue and im just delusional about locus and his role in plot and this is just me firing concepts blindly into the sky at this point like - yeah i could still theorize what kind of companion characterization i think locus would work well with bc its more about the wielder than the companion in this sense (sorry junior and huggins i love yall i promise) but thats a completely separate rant at this point and not nearly coherent enough at this exact moment to add it PLUS its ridiculously self indulgent and only marginally canon compliant/adjacent but i will never not be amused by this very specific plot beat happening enough to draw these parallels, as tenuous and vague as the parallels are

[space-mermaid-writing]

You cat stephen fic was perfect!💘

I was wondering If you could write a cat tony fic where stephen accidentaly casts a spell on him cuz he was being annoying😅

I did my best to write a cat!Tony story that lives up the cat!Stephen fic. I hope you like it 🐈 (As so often, this got way longer than planned; and that's also why you had to wait so long for this...) Beta by KJ :)

Summary: Stephen looked at the pile of clothes from which a very clearly not amused cat looked back. “Well, shit…”

Tags: cat!Tony, magical shenanigans, panic attack, normal cat behavior, fluff, fun, bordering on crack, don’t take this too seriously, just the regular everyday weirdness of magic man and engineer guy

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Cat!Stephen | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 5.4k

Cat for a day

Stephen looked at the pile of clothes from which a very clearly not amused cat looked back.

“Well, shit…”

His previous anger was forgotten, replaced by mild annoyance,  as always when Tony touched something he wasn’t supposed to touch.

Well, he hadn’t touched the relic per se. Not with his hands anyway. But something in his aura – or Vishanti knew what – had triggered the relic and activated it mid-argument.

It hadn’t been anything important they had been arguing about, merely another technicality. Sometimes Stephen wondered why Tony bothered coming over into the Sanctum he loved to criticize the interior of; when they almost always ended up arguing about something.

It might have something to do with the fact that they were dating; which was a recent development. Tony could always change his mind… until then Stephen would happily welcome him into the Sanctum.

Anyway, that wasn’t the point here. The point was that Tony was now standing on four legs instead of two. And he was way more furry than he should be.

Stephen did this thing where he raised his brow totally unimpressed. “That’s what you get for touching stuff you shouldn’t,” he said in his best ‘I told you so’-voice.

The cat huffed and the noise he made sounded rather hoarse; as he had yet to figure how to use his new voice. The intent of his words was clear though. At least to the sorcerer.

“Well, you did something to that globe, because I didn’t use magic and I’m pretty sure you didn’t spontaneously develop a shapeshifting talent in the past five minutes.”

The cat climbed out of the pile of fabric. More noises came out of that tiny mouth. Stephen had no idea what he said but it sounded a lot like complaining. He waited until Tony was done and stared up at him, expectantly.

Only then did Stephen move his hands for a spell. “Stand still while I get you back. And don’t yell at me when you find out you are naked. None of this is my fault.”

He performed a simple counter spell; it was standard procedure really.

It did nothing.

Stephen tried two other spells – Tony remained a cat.

Something wasn’t right here and for the first time, the sorcerer felt uneasy. Turning Tony back shouldn’t be this complicated. He didn’t like to not know what was going on.

“I need to do some research,” he hesitantly admitted.

His words seemed to trigger something in the feline. Tony suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. His chest was too tight, and everything around him too big. His little body tensed and a weird noise escaped him, some kind of wheezing from deep within his lung.

“Tony.”

The cat didn’t seem to hear him. He was shaking and looked like he was five seconds away from running off. Stephen's hand gently grabbed the feline’s neck – right at the spot where a mother carried their kittens – and he applied soft pressure.

Tony had never been a kitten, but he stilled anyway.

“Deep breaths, Tony. In…and out… in…”

The cat slowly but visibly relaxed. He was still not making a move, but his eyes were more present; not as clouded as they had been moments before.

“You with me?” Stephen asked and got a small meow in return. He let go of Tony tentatively. The cat remained pressed to the floor for a second. Then he sat up, the shaking not yet completely gone, and looked around as if embarrassed by the panic attack.

There was no one around; they were all alone.

“Let’s go to the library.” The cat nodded, then yelped when he got scooped up into Stephen's arms. “I got you,” the sorcerer soothed him.

He was careful not to touch Tony’s chest since he was pretty confident that this weak spot had been transferred to the new body.

Tony was smart enough not to wriggle. Instead, he snuggled into his arms.

Tony was actually quite a cute cat; a brown and black tabby. Funnily enough, his facial hair had been translated into the fur pattern.

Stephen turned to walk away, but then remembered something: he shouldn't keep clothes lying around randomly in the relic room. With a flick of his hand, he teleported them ahead into the library.

He himself took the path on foot so as not to expose Tony to any more magic.

Besides, it wasn't far.

Once in the library, he set Tony down next to his clothes on a couch. "I need to get some books. Make yourself comfortable. It won't take long."

He disappeared between the shelves.

Tony looked after him. Another wave of panic rose briefly, but he quickly swallowed it down.

It was fine, he told himself. Stephen would fix this.

He decided to simply not think about the fact that magic had affected his body without Tony’s consent. His mind was still the same; it was only just his body that had changed.

He let out a frustrated noise, that sounded very much like a growl.

Oh yeah, and he couldn’t talk anymore. At least not with his normal voice. Stephen seemed to understand the sentiment well enough though.

That reminded Tony of something and he searched for his phone in the pocket of his pants.

It was difficult to pull out the device if you had no thumbs. Or any fingers at all. But after a few slippery attempts, he finally managed it.

And was immediately facing the next daunting task: using the touch screen.

It took him a while to figure out that his nose worked quite okay with the tech. Tony opened the app for writing notes – he had never used it before. Normally he talked to Jarvis. That was way faster and Jarvis knew how to filter his waterfall of words.

Now writing with his nose one letter at a time was frustratingly slow. Jarvis had been alerted when Tony unlocked the phone, but probably kept his quiet to wait for what happened because he couldn't identify Tony's voice nor his fingerprints.

Tony was halfway through his explanation when the A.I. finally spoke up. “Sir, am I right in assuming that you got turned into a cat but you are still able to understand English?”

The cat looked into the camera and nodded. “Meow.”

“I need you to confirm your identity,” Jarvis nevertheless demanded the safety measure that Tony had introduced to him.

The cat typed the combination of numbers and letters into his phone. They vanished as soon as he finished.

“Identity confirmed. Do you require medical attention, Sir?”

Tony denied it and told Jarvis to put his calendar on hold for the day until his situation got sorted out.

It was inconvenient to spell everything out, but this was his only way to communicate at the moment.

By then Stephen was back with his pile of books. He noticed the cat's head peeking over the back of the couch.

“You alright there, Tony?”

“Meow?”

He took that as a ‘yes’ and sat down to open the first book.

Tony curled up but soon enough he was bored. For one, he wasn’t in the mood to relax. Plus, he had never been one for idly sitting around; not as a human being, and not as a cat either.

He stretched; first his front, then his back legs. He then yawned widely.

His new body felt more agile. Lighter. His chest still hurt, as well as his left front leg. His shoulder had never fully healed.

Nevertheless, he had no trouble jumping off the couch silently. His tail flicked.

Everything seemed taller; the furniture, the ceiling. Tony had to crane his neck up; and decided immediately that he wasn’t a fan of this fact.

If Stephen noticed he left his place, he didn’t react and Tony took that as an invitation to leave the library in order to find food. Getting accidentally transformed had kicked up his appetite and he felt hungry. Purposeful small steps led him to the kitchen. Fortunately, he had no problem operating on four legs instead of the usual two.

On his way downstairs he heard a noise and his ears perked up. The Cloak of Levitation hovered at the top of the stairs. It had no face but its collar was tilted, watching the feline with curiosity.

“Mrew.”

The cloak flew down to him to prod the cat, who tried to evade it. Tony made a disgruntled sound and fended off the fabric with his paw.

He had already noticed from Stephen’s interactions that the Cloak of Levitation showed little understanding for personal space. And apparently, it wasn’t yet quite sure what to make of this cat. If it even recognized him as Tony or perhaps thought this was a new pet.

Tony continued on his way, with the cloak following him. Tony glanced over his shoulder at it but didn’t object.

In the kitchen, he faced a new challenge: doors. More specifically, cabinet doors.

Tony jumped onto the counter and tried to get into the upper cabinet that he knew stored toast. He had to stand on his hind legs, and reach up with his whole body to try and open the cabinet door.

It turned out to be rather difficult.

He barely kept his balance  and pushed his paw into the narrow gap to swing the door open. It opened a little – and fell back close immediately.

The cat huffed in annoyance.

His gaze fell on the coffee maker. He needed one of those drinks. However, the mugs were also stored in one of the upper kitchen cupboards.So he was back to the same problem there.

Suddenly he understood why cats liked to push things off counters. He was very tempted to do the same with a nearby vase; out of sheer frustration.

That was when the cloak – which so far had simply watched him; or whatever it was that it did, hovering in the middle of the room – came over to him and opened the cabinet Tony had failed to pry open.

The cat meowed a thanks.

Now, jumping up into the upper cabinets was complicated by the fact that the compartments down low were fully packed. Tony stood on his hind legs and stretched up again to analyze his options; but before he could even try to start something, the cloak had taken out the bag of toast and set it down next to Tony.

That gave Tony an idea and sure enough, after some trial and error in communication, Tony had a decent sandwich and coffee in front of him shortly afterwards.

Tony took back any quip he ever threw at the cloak; that thing was a saint.

He ate his sandwich with relish. The texture felt weird in his tiny mouth. It wasn’t really made for this kind of food. But it tasted passable enough that he wasn't bothered by it.

The Cloak of Levitation stayed at his side, fascinatedly studying him. With a corner of its fabric it petted the cat’s head, and this time Tony let it happen; only his ears flicked, irritated more by the gesture than the actual action.

He heard voices approaching. It was a conversation between two sorcerers who entered the kitchen and Tony looked up. He did know apprentices came to the Sanctum for their studies or to do whatever it was magic people did around here – so he wasn’t alarmed when he didn’t recognize their faces.

They, on the other hand, stopped right in their tracks when they saw a feline on the counter right in the middle of what seemed to be the Sorcerer Supreme’s lunch snack: open packets of cheese and ham, a glass of pickles and toast and butter.

The butter knife didn’t quite make it to the sink but was lying on the edge of the sink, turned so that the blade reached dangerously far over the edge of the counter and threatened to fall off at any moment.

They were also pretty sure coffee wasn’t supposed to be served in a cereal bowl.

Hovering next to all the chaos was the Cloak of Levitation, who did nothing to prevent the cat from eating food that wasn’t for felines.

“Hey!” One of the sorcerers shouted sharply, and that triggered something in Tony’s cat brain.

He froze for a second. Then he took what was left of the sandwich in his mouth and bolted. He jumped on the floor and zipped right through the sorcerer’s feet. They tried to catch him but Tony was way faster, dodging their grip.

He ran down the hallway and through an ajar door. The room was unoccupied by people; Tony went under the couch anyway. Only then did he stop and catch his breath.

His little heart was beating fast in his chest. It was a strange feeling: it hadn't been fear that had made him leave the kitchen. However, it still felt like a fight-or-flight reaction. He didn’t want anyone to come between him and his food.

It was very atypical of him – but then again, it was a weird day. So Tony let it slide.

He peaked from under the couch and found that no one had followed him. Not even the cloak, which was – honestly – a bummer. It had been very useful.

Tony turned around to continue his meal when he noticed a pair of eyes in the darkness back under the couch.

They glowed yellowish with an eerie intensity, piercing through the darkness. Focused on Tony they seemed to follow his every movement, every breath, every heartbeat. And they were way too large for any creature to fit under here.

The shadows clung to it like a shroud, an inky blackness that seemed to devour the faint light falling under the couch.

This wasn’t natural.

The hairs on the back of Tony's neck stood up and his instinct yelled: danger! He held back a hiss, but was ready to bunk off at the slightest sign of an attack.

The eyes didn��t come closer. They did glance at the rest of the sandwich though.

Cautiously, Tony stepped to the sandwich, not taking his eyes off whatever it was that lurked in the shadows. He pulled the top part of the bread off and pushed it towards the creature; the yellow eyes watching the movement. Then it opened its mouth and for a moment Tony saw sharp teeth and a long tongue.

Then the bread was gone and Tony heard a satisfied noise. The yellow eyes close and don’t open again. They were gone.

The shadows were still present.

Tony took the leftover sandwich and moved out from under the couch back into the light. The feeling of imminent danger was gone but he wasn’t taking any chances.

_______________________

It was already dark outside when Stephen leaned back and rolled his neck and shoulders. The research had taken him longer than anticipated, mostly because he was diligent and thorough.

“Tony,” he called over to the couch.

He got no reaction.

Maybe he had fallen asleep. Yet, when Stephen thought about it, he had never seen Tony be quiet for so long. Normally he was always talking, mumbling to himself, and sharing his thoughts half-aloud.

The sorcerer stood up and stepped around the couch. He saw the reason why it was so peaceful: the couch was empty; there was no cat in sight.

Stephen looked around. “Tony?”

Still, no answer.

“I swear to the Vishanti, if he walked through the wrong door and fell into a black hole, I will call pest control to get him out.”

He left the library and reached out mentally to the Sanctum to figure out where Tony was. He felt several presences in the building – not surprising, as apprentices often studied here. But all of them were gathered in groups; he couldn’t make out a single figure alone.

Worry spread through Stephen and he set off to search for Tony.

“Tony?”

_______________________

“Meow mreew.” [“Anyway, it has a base plate of pre-famulated amulite surmounted by a malleable logarithmic casing in such a way that the two spurving bearings were in a direct line with the panametric fan.”]

Tony elegantly dodged the hand that wanted to pet him. He didn’t want to be touched by someone he barely knew for an hour.

“I’m pretty sure it’s from another dimension,” one of the apprentices said about the cat that they had found in the Sanctum. “Maybe it came with Master Reese. He recently went to Ektra’vall. This cat is way too smart to be a regular feline.”

Tony turned his head towards the young man, who stared at him.

“He just winked at me!”

Tony laughed, which came out as some weird purring noise.

He had found this group of young wizards and their books in one of the study rooms. They probably should be doing some homework or whatever task they had been assigned. But as soon as they spotted the unfamiliar cat they had coaxed it onto the table.

Tony liked the attention, thrived under it even. He had lectured them about turbo encabulators; not that they understood a word he meowed. Still, they were delighted by the chatty cat and talked to him. The result was two different conversations going on.

At one point, one of the apprentices conjured a packet of string cheese out of thin air and fed it to the cat. Tony was pretty sure that Wong would get an aneurysm if he saw the food right next to the ancient-looking books – but that wasn’t Tony’s problem.

He was just a cat. It was liberating. There was no pressure; nobody knew it was him. There weren’t any expectations.

Tony humored the wizard kid who used a pen as bait for him to play. He pounced at the end of the pen with his paw. Being a cat helped his mind to stop running a mile a minute.

His ears perked up when he heard the door open and he spotted a speck of blue. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Shouldn’t you work on your evocation studies?”

The apprentices hadn’t noticed the Sorcerer Supreme approaching and his voice caught them by surprise. They winced and turned towards him to bow respectfully.

“We are working on it,” the boy that had fed Tony pointed at the scripts. It didn’t help their case that a) he still had the string cheese in his hands and b) the tabby cat was sitting on one of the books, washing its face by licking its paw and preening his face.

The feline seemed unperturbed, like a regular cat. But Tony couldn’t fool Stephen.

“Really?” Stephen raised his eyebrow. “Because it rather looks like you all got distracted by Tony.”

The apprentices exchanged glances, throwing their attention at that piece of information.

“The cat’s name is Tony?”

“Is that short for Plutonium?”

“Will he stay longer at the Sanctum?”

They were all talking excitedly to each other.

Stephen tilted his head. His eyes met Tony’s, who looked way too smug. He was clearly enjoying the situation. Well, at least one of them had fun.

“The cat will not stay. Go back to your studies. I expect them by tonight.”

“Master Doctor Strange, it is already night.”

Huh, Stephen hadn’t noticed.

“Then you better hurry up. Tony, come with me. I have a few spells for you.”

Tony yawned before jumping off the table to follow the sorcerer, while one of the apprentices gasped quietly. “Dude, Plutonium is totally the Sorcerer Supreme’s new familiar pet.”

Tony turned back to him and made a displeased sound. He was no pet of anyone.

Holding his head and tail high, he walked at Stephen’s side. The tall sorcerer made big steps and Tony had to hurry to keep up.

He didn’t like that.

From this new perspective, Stephen was freakishly tall.

“Good to see you’re still a menace bothering people.” There was a smile on Stephen’s lips.

“Mrew miaow.” [“It’s called being bored. It’s not like there’s anything better to do around here.”]

Back in the library, the pile of books on Stephen's desk seemed to have grown even more. Tony jumped onto it. An easy task; he had perfect control of his body by now.

From the higher ground, he looked expectantly at the sorcerer.

“I did some research on the relic. Although it is stored in the Sanctum Sanctorum, it is occasionally used for teaching purposes in Kamar-Taj to demonstrate the fusion of different types of magic from several dimensions. Therefore it’s not surprising that it showed unprompted activity … anyway, you should be back to normal in no time.”

Stephen called upon his magic and used it to draw glowing lines into the air. It was a delicate pattern that formed into a sphere. When it was finished, Stephen let it fly over the cat and with a snap of his fingers it burst into golden sparks that rained down onto the feline.

Tony looked at it in awe. It was beautiful. He lifted his paw to catch a sparkle. It felt cool and melted into his fur, like a snowflake.

He still was a cat afterwards. Judging by Stephen's face, this was not the desired result. He looked distraught and tired. But it was gone in a second; then the determination was back.

“Maybe if I adjust the parameter.” The sorcerer reopened a book. “When you consider the magical volume... and that the relic may have stored traces of extradimensional magic…" Stephen mumbled further explanations to himself.

Tony didn’t even understand half of it. He watched and waited.

Stephen tried a new spell. And then another.

Sighing, he dropped into the chair and ran his hand through his hair, avoiding looking at the cat.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. He wasn’t used to failure. “I will fix this. I promise.”

The ball of fur jumped onto his lap, letting out a high-pitched “Chirrup” to get his attention. Warm feline eyes met Stephen’s.

The sorcerer raised his hand to Tony and the cat headbutted it, prompting him to scratch the cat behind his ears. Contented, Tony leaned into the touch. He was purring soothingly as if he wanted to reassure Stephen everything was fine.

The sorcerer would have smiled at that sight if he wasn't so worried and disappointed in himself. He couldn’t let Tony down.

“I will go over everything one more time. Maybe I missed something.” That would be a first. Stephen was very accurate regarding research. He turned back to the books. Tony stayed on his lap, curled up.

_______________________

Stephen browsed every single script on the table but couldn’t find any mistakes. One of the spells should have worked.

He concluded that he needed more books. The answer was somewhere in the library. It always was.

Stephen stifled a yawn. Hours spent pouring over dense volumes had taken their toll, leaving his mind heavy and his eyes strained. His concentration had waned, and the words on the page blurred before his weary gaze.

But he had to pull through, for Tony’s sake.

Tony wasn’t a fan of magic. Understandably so. He had told Stephen about his encounter with the witch. Or at least parts of it.

Stephen was pretty sure he had downplayed it. From what he had heard, Stephen was still furious about the violation. What the witch had done to Tony was basically torture.

Tony only tolerated some magic because he liked Stephen. They took their relationship slow, step by step.

But now Stephen had screwed up and he wouldn’t be surprised if Tony hated him after this. Or at least wanted to take a break from the sorcerer and magic in general.

Stephen's eyes were unfocused in the distance, his thoughts drifting off. He didn’t realize it until something gently touched his beard.

When he looked down, he noticed Tony was watching him.

“Sorry,” Stephen muttered. “Go back to sleep.” He rolled his shoulders. The tension from the responsibility had settled in a knot between his shoulder blades that ached intensely. But it was no use; he had to pull himself together.

Tony tilted his head and then – as he came to a decision – he shook it. “Meow.”

“Not yet. But I’ll find the right spell.”

Apparently, that was not what Tony meant. He jumped off his lap and pawed at Stephen’s pants, motioning him to follow, meowing loudly.

"What is it?" Alarmed by the cat's sudden stubbornness, he followed him to the couch, where the engineer's clothes were still lying.

The cat hopped onto the cushions and patted them with his paw.

Stephen frowned, not sure if he understood correctly. “You want me to sit on it?”

“Mrew.”

“Why?”

Tony just stared at him and waited.

Stephen was too tired to argue and with a sigh he gave in. Tony was back in his lap as soon as the sorcerer sat down. He circled once to find a good spot before he moved into a perfect loaf, purring again.

Stephen petted the soft fur. “Now what?” he asked.

Tony blinked up at him with one eye.

“You want me to take a break?”

“Brrep.”

Stephen sighed again – this time because his body relaxed a bit. “Fine. Five minutes.”

It didn’t take a whole five minutes until the sorcerer's breathing became deep and even. His fingers moved slower and slower in Tony's fur until they finally stopped altogether; Stephen had fallen asleep.

Happy with that result, Tony closed his eyes as well.

_______________________

There was a noise on the other side of the couch that alerted Tony. He hadn’t heard anyone come in and decided to investigate.

He climbed onto the armrest and stared at the table Stephen had occupied. What he saw should have surprised him, but somehow it didn’t.

A ghost version of Stephen hovered in the air – cross-legged - browsing the books. The books seemed to be regular books and not ghost books; at least they weren’t transparent.

Ghost-Stephen turned a page and that had to be the noise that Tony had heard.

Tony knew about astral projecting; he had seen it before when Stephen's body looked like he had fallen asleep meditating. But he had never caught a glimpse of the sorcerer’s astral ghost version.

“Mreewp.” [“You know that’s called cheating.”]

Ghost-Stephen looked up, surprised, when he saw that Tony was addressing him. “You can see me?”

“Mroow.” [“I’m looking at you, ain’t I?”]

“Huh.” Stephen put his book down and floated over to the feline. “That’s interesting. We assumed cats to be able to perceive several planes, but we never had proof.”

“Groow mrem.” [“That’s great for you. Can we go back and focus on the problem at hand: getting me back?”]

“Yes, pardon.”

“Thank you, I-…” Tony stopped mid-sentence, staring at Stephen in that weird non-blinking way. “You understand what I’m saying?”

Stephen paused as well, realizing that – yes, he did. “It appears so. It must be because I’m currently in the astral dimension.”

“You mean ghost town?” Unimpressed, Tony jumped onto the floor and then walked over to the table with the books. There he first got on the chair and then onto the table. Truth be told, he was relieved to finally have a normal conversation. One where both sides knew what the other said.

“You’re still cheating on the taking a break part,” he remarked.

“Are you complaining I’m trying to find a solution to your problem?” Stephen floats around the table. He reached out to pet Tony and the cat leaned in the surprisingly solid touch.

“I didn’t say that,” he murmured. “Just pointing out a fact.”

“Mhm.” The sorcerer didn’t sound convinced. He continued to give back scratches all the way to that sweet spot right before the tail.

The cat got low but stretched his butt upwards. Purring louder than ever, he then flopped onto the side and was about to stick his belly out at Stephen when he realized what he was doing. Scowling, he pulled himself back up, ignoring Stephen's smug smile.

“That’s definitely some kind of cheating.”

“We had a lot of cats on the farm I grew up on.”

Stephen rarely talked about his childhood. Tony mostly knew the basics. Therefore he absorbed these kinds of snippets of information, adding them together like a big puzzle. There were still many gaps.

“More volunteers for your Hogwarts transmutation class?” He tried to dig deeper.

Stephen was quick to correct him. “You did not transmute. You shapeshifted.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Everything but the result. It’s a completely different course of action. You see, with shapeshifting a person shifts into a different living being. In most cases into a different species; although not always. While during a transmutation it changes the substance – regardless if it’s a living being or a objec-…” Stephen paused. His face told Tony an idea had struck him.

And he was right.

“Metamorphosis… I haven’t thought about metamorphosis. Normally, it wouldn’t be relevant, but since the source of magic lies in a relic, it’s actually quite possible.” He floated over to the shelves, looking for a specific book.

Tony stayed on the table, watching him. “Do you know how to reverse it?”

“Oh yes, it’s rather easy – if you know what you’re looking for. Ah, there it is…” Stephen thumbed through the book until he found what he was looking for. "Metamorphosis explains how you were able to have such good control over your new form straight away. Without any familiarization phase. And why there are some striking matching features between your forms.” Especially the facial hair and eye color.

Stephen returned to the desk.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I was ready five hours ago.”

Stephen’s face fell, sobered up, and the guilt was back. He mumbled another apology.

Tony felt awful for mentioning it; being a cat hadn’t been that bad. Even if it hadn't been voluntary.

Ghost-Stephen disappeared into thin air and a second later human-Stephen stood up. Some magic was safer to perform when he was on this plane.

He stepped to the cat, who was waiting for yet another attempt. Only this time, he actually felt something.

The magic wrapping around him was bright and he had to close his eyes for a second. It felt like he was stretching after sitting in the same pose for a long time. His joints were cracking like he had slept uncomfortably.

It didn’t hurt, rather it felt right.

Then it was gone and Tony opened his eyes. He was still sitting on the table, but now as a human again. The air suddenly felt more chilly.

Oh yeah, his clothes were still on the couch.

And Tony was naked as on the day he was born.

He noticed the dark blush spreading on Stephen’s face. They hadn’t reached that stage of their relationship yet, but Tony didn’t mind showing off. Plus, it was nice to know that his body still got that kind of reaction.

Stephen realized he was staring and cleared his throat, averting his eyes. “You should…” He trailed off, vaguely gesturing towards the pile of clothes.

Tony slid off the table. “Don’t play coy. This is what you get.”

His words made Stephen blush even more. Tony hadn’t taken his partner to be this shy. Somehow it was endearing.

He grabbed his pants. “Well, it’s good to be back.” He pulled his pants over his butt, when suddenly there was something in the way. Confused, he turned his head – and found a cat tail attached to him. Human-sized, very fluffy and in black and brown.

It twitched, nervously.

“Stephen…” He looked at the sorcerer, demanding answers.

“There might have been a slight mishap.” Stephen’s voice was hoarse and not in the slightest apologetic. He was back to watching Tony. Watching the top of his head in particular, Tony noticed.

With one hand still holding his pants in place, Tony reached up. He flinched when he touched fluffy ears. Feline ears.

Stephen licked his lips. He wasn’t blushing because he was shy. It was because he was very much turned on by the unexpected turn of events. But he didn’t dare to say anything since he wasn’t sure how Tony would react to yet another magic-caused alteration.

Only when he heard a chuckle escaping Tony’s lips, did the tension leave him.

Tony found the situation absurd. He had had a long day and honestly, he was just glad to have his thumbs back. “I hope you have some alternative clothes for me. Otherwise, I have to go naked from the waist down and possibly traumatize Wong for life.”

___________

Tony's secret code to identify himself to Jarvis: -y0u kn0w wh0 1 am-

[frozenjokes]

i continued being unable to sleep so i continued shoving as much of your writing into my brain as possible, by which i mean i just read alllll of the mumbomaid au pretty much at once and am being Normal about it

i love them all, i love all of them so much, i'm very invested in their shenanigans, i love how almost nobody understands gender and they all misunderstand it differently

i am ALSO aro in the "no i don't have feelings for anybody, yes i would date basically any of my friends" way and everything surrounding scar's aromanticism is so well done, i kept being soo exasperated with grian and the like. the incredibly allo misunderstanding of aromanticism, and not listening when scar and cleo try to tell him he doesn't get it, i have friends i've had almost those exact conversations with (but slightly less messy because of varyious factors including but not limited to Not Being Desert Duo, Thank Fuck) just ajfhdjdhjshdjfsk

also also i love textbook monsterfucker scar and i'm convinced bdubs thinks etho grew up in a cult or some shit (i'm throwing words at this ask box like spaghetti)

anyway uh. i'm probably gonna keep wanting to say words about your fics as i keep reading them and the ao3 comment section scares me so. i will probably be back, feel free to tell me to buzz off if this is not a preferred communication method

-guy that said mapleshade=p!scar (maplescar? scarpleshade? there's gotta be something here, did i mention the sleep deprivation sorry if this is all insane rambling lmao)

maplescar is a really cool tortie kitty name I like that a lot. maplescar would go crazy. ALSO PLEASE KEEP SAYING WORDS!!!!! say words FORWVER!!!! spam my ao3 comments and I will respond to them 9/10 ten times!!!!!!! I love talking I love when people talk to me THANK YOU!!!!!! you could send me an ask every single time you finish a chapter and I would kiss you on the lips each time but my followers might be killing you with hammers so. Pick your poison.

yeah my favorite part of mumbomaid is that no one knows what a gender is and they misunderstand in all different ways you put it 100% perfectly. I also find Grian to be frustrating but he’s also a vessel to explore More Feelings and in his defense a little outside of complicated aro/allo interactions scar is a bit of an asshole. They are both assholes. Two guys they Will have their cake and they Will eat it too and they are exploding because of it. I too thank god every day I am not desert duo I! hate them. Generally though I do not feel bitter about allo misunderstandings of aromanticism because I spent 21 years of my life also not understanding. Which. Is the fault of a normative society. However. It is deeply difficult to understand the internal experience of someone who functions differently than you on a chemical level. This is a bit of a tangent but my mom and I’s ability to communicate has been drastically improved by the acceptance that I am autistic. She sees me and we reflect on my life together and it makes Sense that the way I experience the world is Different so whenever we talk about something my mom doesn’t understand in relation to me her mind is so open because she knows my perception of the world is not the same as hers. neurodivergence isn’t entirely related to queerness but it has genuinely opened up so many doors for our communication. she goes aromantic? oh yeah that makes sense. I think she catalogs it with the autism which is correct because to me autism and Every Other Way I Experience The World is related. This is say I have a very amusing experience with one of my trans friends where he was like: …so you’ve never questioned your gender,,, like…. Ever..? and I said nope. and he like couldn’t believe me. He did obviously but it’s the idea that our experiences are so integral to the people we are that it’s extremely difficult to imagine it any other way. can you tell I’m a psych major yet. what was I talking about.

I haven’t thought of exactly what bdubs thinks about etho’s past but it’s probably something like that. Deep down, it doesn’t really matter. Bdubs just wants to protect him. He’s so worried, but he just wants etho to feel safe.

lightly suggestive under the cut bc I talk about the monster fucking a little bit and I don’t know your age/if my elaboration is unwarranted I’m just talking. I’m here for a silly time not a sexy one.

monsterfucker scar is dear to me. extremely important. Grian will never be able to do to him the, frankly, deranged things he fantasizes about. they can try but the mood is going to be ruined when scar is like :( your tentacle dick isn’t real. and Grian is going to sigh with his dumbfuck strap and the blue curtains and lights they hung up to make it look like they were underwater. Their entire experience in the bedroom is going to be a series of extremely comedic extremely unfortunate events to make up for the fact that scar is never getting any fish pussy 😔 scar will be put off the mood because Grian just isn’t Convicning enough like COME ON if I don’t believe I’m going to die THEN what’s THE POINT??????? their home life is just increasingly deranged. grian has accepted that he will never be able to compete with the horrors of the ocean and you may think that’s a ‘but he’s still a little jealous though..’ but he’s not. He’s accepted it. Full acceptance. The kind of worn down you get from fishing for a mending book for weeks on end but without the agony and more just. Amused. goodtimeswithscar is going to die young and by drowning but you’d better believe he’ll do it in ecstasy.

[nevertheblood]

Trick or treat!

HIIIIII thank you for the ask <33

I remember that you liked love in the vein 👀 so I bring some WIP from the same royalty AU-verse... technically it is an epilogue to the whole fic but I don't know if I'll ever get so far as to publish everything (there's a lot of fantasy politics shenanigans involving Verlaine and a GREAT deal of angst before we get to happily married adult skk....) so just in case it never makes it out there into the world, here's some fluffy pregchuu smut !!

[NSFW, trans male chuuya, pregnant sex, mentions of improper binding (due to historical setting), probably the soppiest most saccharine nonsense you've ever read in your life but I NEED THEM TO BE HAPPY.... they go through a lot.... that I didn't write yet 😭]

anyways pls enjoy your treat!! happy early halloween 🎃🕸️🍬👻

The servants know by now to leave their chambers well alone at this hour. This time, after the sun has climbed above the horizon but before the bell in the banquet hall sounds for breakfast, is all theirs. As far as they’re concerned, within those precious hours, aeons could pass, their kingdom could rise or fall outside the bedroom door, and they would be none the wiser; lost in their own domain, the wonderland of one another.

Once, when they were much younger, still in the process of learning how to love, Dazai had said I want to kiss you everywhere. When we’re married, I promise I will. The list of Dazai’s sins is probably longer than he would like to admit, but he doesn’t break his promises to Chuuya. Not anymore, not ever again.

Today, Chuuya’s skin is sun-warmed, sweat-salted, and Dazai’s mouth maps the curves and hollows of his body with practiced cleverness.

“Do you know,” Dazai says, his breath a caress on Chuuya’s hipbone, “Why I first fell in love with you?”

“Why?” Chuuya replies, in the half-attentive tone of someone who’s sort of heard this story before but really wouldn’t mind hearing it again. Dazai, of course, indulges him.

“You were always—” he presses a kiss to the place where Chuuya’s hip and thigh meet, and Chuuya shivers, “—so full—” another kiss, this time closer to the inner thigh, “—of life.”

Chuuya laughs quietly. “Is that what you’d call it?” “Obviously.” For once, Dazai’s tone is completely serious. “It can’t have been easy, to find out in your mid-teens that you weren’t what the world had told you you were. But the whole time, you were so… so bright. You burned through the hardship, like a little phoenix. It was beautiful.”

“You had your own hardships,” Chuuya says softly, “And they were very different from mine.” “I know,” Dazai says, “But seeing you… it made me want to live, too. Like you wanted to live.” Chuuya looks at him, from where he’s lying back against the pillows. “This was years ago,” he says. “Why are you telling me this now?” “You are more full of life now than ever,” Dazai answers quietly, before placing the gentlest of kisses on Chuuya’s stomach, “There is life growing in you. And I am so in love with you for it.”

Chuuya reaches out one hand to tangle in Dazai’s hair, teasing out the morning bedhead curls. “It gives you the will to live?” “Something like that.” “You want to know why I fell in love with you?” Dazai props himself up on his hands, holding himself carefully over Chuuya’s body, and shifts upwards on the bed, close enough that Chuuya can kiss his nose, which he does. “Tell me?”

“You like to think of yourself as a terrible person, but you aren’t. You’re actually rather selfless.” “Oh?” Dazai takes Chuuya’s hand where it’s resting next to his head, kisses his fingertips softly. “And what makes you such an impeccable judge of character?” “Despite everything,” Chuuya says, curling his fingers around Dazai’s, “That whole time, you loved me. I felt it so strongly. You hated yourself, you hated this world, so much, but you loved me.” Dazai smiles, a little ruefully. “I think that’s still true, actually.” “Stupid,” Chuuya says, flicking him in the head with one well-aimed finger. “This… almost-life that’s inside me. You put it there, didn’t you?”

Dazai rubs his forehead, disgruntled. “I sure hope it was me. What’s your point?” “You have such capacity for life, you suicidal idiot,” Chuuya says, folding his arms around Dazai’s neck, pulling him in closer, “And I won’t ever let you forget it.” “Enough philosophising, already,” Dazai says, sliding one hand under Chuuya’s thigh, squeezing in a way that makes Chuuya blush bright red, “Wasn’t I busy kissing you?” Chuuya splutters indignantly. “You started the philosophising, asshole.”

“Maybe I did. So what?” Sixteen years they’ve known each other, and Dazai’s favourite hobby is probably still finding new ways to get Chuuya riled up. “Shut up and kiss me before I wring your stupid neck.” Or maybe Dazai’s favourite hobby is kissing Chuuya. The jury is still out. “Gladly.” This time, his lips stay glued to Chuuya’s, while his hands do the wandering, letting his senses remind him of everything so tenderly familiar and everything so painfully new. For one thing, Chuuya is binding less frequently, these days, the changes in his body making everything just this side of too painful, and the tangible, ever-present lines on his skin around his ribs and underarms normally left by the press of the bandages are less noticeable to the touch. He’s put weight on, too, which he gripes about but Dazai adores, the way the smooth flesh around Chuuya’s waist, hips, thighs, dips and yields like warm clay under Dazai’s hands, every angle of his body turning softer, rounder.

Dazai is no cartographer, despite the hours his father and Kunikida had spent trying to teach him, but he’d gladly make a thousand charts of the topography of Chuuya’s body, his index and middle finger his compass, measuring each line and curve in perfect design.  His hand pauses at Chuuya’s bare hip, silently questioning. Chuuya seems to hear his request and parts his legs just a little, allowing his husband’s exacting hands to slide between his spread thighs. “Chuuya,” Dazai says, the name a sigh against their kiss, “First thing in the morning and you’re already so wet for me.”

“I dreamed of you,” Chuuya says, voice a little floaty like he’s still halfway in the dream itself. “Yeah?” Dazai teases him, fingertips circling where he knows Chuuya wants him to touch, “What happened?” “You bent me over the writing-desk and fucked me ‘til I screamed,” Chuuya says dreamily, “You haven’t been that rough with me in ages. You know I like it when you’re a little insane.”

Despite himself, Dazai feels just a touch guilty. “I--” “Hush,” Chuuya cuts him off, eyes soft. “I know why you’re treating me gently. I don’t mind it.” “It’s okay?” Dazai slips one finger inside, breath catching in his throat at the way Chuuya feels around him. “More than okay.” Chuuya makes a quiet ‘nn’ sound of pleasure, eyelids fluttering as Dazai crooks his finger. “Ah, please--”

Chuuya is beautiful like this, so beautiful. The way his hair falls over one shoulder, curling as it begins to stick to his skin, framing the healing bites and bruises Dazai’s already left along the column of his throat in bright orange like neat embroidery. The way he whimpers quietly, covering his mouth with the back of one hand, trying to act like he’s not quite so affected as he is by the curl of Dazai’s fingers inside. The way he moves his body, lifting his hips upwards, trying to fuck himself harder on Dazai’s hand, clinging tight to his husband, a life raft in the ocean of their bed. “Nnngh, Osamu,” Chuuya pants, and Dazai’s head still spins a little even though his first name has become much more common-use since their marriage, “Need you inside me.” And what kind of prince would Dazai be to deny his beloved consort anything?

[glitterslag]

Questions for your train journey four days ago lol (I missed it)-

About BOJ, was I imagining this or did you sprinkle some sydrichie crumbs in there for us ?👀

Also, this is totally a no pressure/ expectations ask, just curious... do you think you'd ever write a sydrichie fic ? / have you been tempted to write for them ? I know they would be so delish in your style <3

Hope your journey was a nice one :)

hehe, you weren't imagining it!! There are sydrichie crumbs everywhere for those who have eyes to see........🌝

Nah but fr, I do p. much write everything sydcarmy from the view that Richie would jump at the chance to lick Syd's crumbs off the floor. Sometimes I think he's fully aware of it, sometimes I think he's in denial.

Tbh, while I do enjoy reading sydrichie fics, i think if i were ever to write anything it'd more like a love triangle or unrequited sydrichie from richie's pov, like having richie pining for syd while syd was pining for carmy. I find the whole richie carmy love-hate-jealousy-bitterness-resentment-brothers-lovers-rivals continuum really really interesting to think and write about (it might be my favourite dynamic on the show), and the way the syd of it all would factor into that could just be soooo juicy.

i actually made a good start on a more richie centric fic a while back, which was very AU-ish and had richie running a chippy in Scotland. It's very much shelved and never gonna be unshelved, but here's an extract if anyone cares cause I do really really like it:

“S’appenin’, big man?” Ebra pokes his navy blue beanie through the back kitchen entrance, dragging his cold trolley behind him. “Whit ye got for me today?” 

“Hello, Richie.” 

Cousin still won't deliver the bycatch himself, the shitebag, won’t even set foot over the threshold of this place. Sends his deckboss down here to do his dirty work now instead. Wanker. 

“How’s the prawns?” he asks Ebra, inspecting the stacked trays of lifeless, milky white fish with the tip of a HB pencil. “Good catch, was it?” 

Cod and haddock Ebra brings him — big ones today at that. FAS, but who cares about that, this isnae The Ivy. 

“Not bad, not bad.” 

“Fetch a good price, did they?” Ebra shrugs.

“Eh, you know. Could always be better.” 

Richie grins, gives the man a clap on the shoulder. 

“Wahey, that’s the attitude.”

“Busy day coming?” Richie nods. 

“With any luck, aye.” 

It’s Wednesday, so there’s not much chance of that if he’s being honest, but hey. 

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, pal. Hey, how’s it wi’ that bawbag?” 

Carmy, that means. And Richie doesn’t want to know, not really — but somehow he keeps finding himself asking after the kid anyways. 

Ebra looks grave.

“Always shenanigans, Richie. Yesterday, Norwegian coast guard, they came on board–” 

“Oh, shit!” Richie interjects. “The fuckin’ polis?” Ebra nods darkly.

“Fucking fish police, Richie. We barely hang on by a thread yesterday. You’re lucky you get any,” he says, slapping the top pallet, making the cods jiggle on the ice. “Carmen, he was huffing and puffing, smoking many cigarettes.” 

Richie chokes on a laugh. 

“Fucking fish police,” he repeats, shaking his head. “Aw fuck, whit’s he like, eh? I don't know. Rather you than me, pal.”

~~~

Richie used to go away on the boats, too, but now he works in the chippy. 

He quit once he hit forty — mostly because of all the time spent away from his wee girl, but partly because after Mike went Richie just couldnae stomach it nae mair. Literally. He can’t eat fish at all now. Always makes him spew, as if his body just rejects the stuff. 

Fak won’t eat fish either, that fucking numpty. Claims he’s never even tried it, not even fish fingers. Says it’s boggin’. To be fair, at the end of the night when they all come away stinking of it, Richie can’t say he entirely disagrees. 

Fry Life, the chip shop’s called. 

The walls are covered in a mix of Celtic and film memorabilia. Scarves and posters and t-shirts, some of them signed or limited edition. Stuff salvaged from Mikey’s old place, mostly, some of Richie’s own, some of Fak’s, all of it encased in glass in an attempt to combat the ravages of time and chip grease. 

There’s a big fuck-off Jaws poster on one wall, and a framed black and white photo of Billy MacNeill holding up the European Cup on another. The creature from Creature from the Black Lagoon is coming out from the ceiling above the counter, above Richie’s head. It’s the only thing not in glass, so when he’s standing behind the till it looks like he’s about to be ripped to shreds. Then there’s the Funko Pop! shelf, over by the window. Proper nerd shit. 

They’ve even got a couple of vintage arcade games. As in coin-ops, wee honey traps so they are. Thursday nights they do ‘Haddock-en’ — Street Fighter tournaments with deals on the food, and they get neckbeard-looking types busing up from the uni, GAMESOC or whatever it is, to play the machines. They act so fucking weird, but it’s bums on seats isn’t it, so Richie can’t really complain. 

Yeah, Richie can just about cope with the video game crowd. What he can’t stand are the tourists — they actually get those here now. Fringe festival overspill, mostly. Seems like every year it creeps further and futher up the coast, Airbnbs springing up everywhere in the wake of it. Fucking disgusting. Pretty lucrative business, too, or so Richie’s heard. Ask Jimmy. That fucking parasite. 

Yeah, the shop managed to get featured on some food Instagram account and now they sometimes get posh folk coming in on their working class safaris, taking photos and talking in their grating English voices. The caffs-not-cafés crowd. People who’re used to paying like nine quid for a pint and a packet of scampi fries. 

Yeah, tourists are the worst, especially the ones fae Edinburgh. Dunediners, that’s their proper name — Richie’s maw always insisted on calling them that. Carmy went down there for uni and now he’s the worst too. 

Came back prissy and up his own arse — worse than before — and bisexual. And hey, Richie got off with a drag queen once in CC Blooms, so you know, it’s whatever. He’s all for it. It’s just, of course Carmy would be bisexual. Art school prat. Summers were the worst — Carmy’d come out on the boats, spew his guts up for the first week straight every time, guaranteed. Never was built for it. 

Nah, Edinburgh’s nice, though. Him and Mikey lived down there for a while when they were both young, worked in bars and whitnot. It was before the fishing, before duty pulled them back. Shit, they used to have fun. Hive till five, or end up in a casino or a random gaff or some seedy spot in The Pubic Triangle. 

Once, they’d been so fucked they’d both ended up shagging a bird each in the same hotel room, Mikey and some girl on the bathroom counter and Richie and some ginger bird on one of the twin beds, and then afterwards they’d all jumped in the shower together and smoked a joint in the steam, laughing hysterically. 

It wasn't always like that, though. One night, they’d climbed up Arthur’s Seat in the dark and sat waiting for sunrise, passing a bottle of whisky back and forth and talking about their future, what they’d be. 

“Hello? Hello?”

Richie’s head snaps up. There’s an old guy in a blue Berghaus puffer standing at the counter, looking impatient. 

“Sorry pal, I was miles away.”

Richie sniffs, gets to plugging in the man’s sausage supper on the till. 

“You said large, yeah?”

“Aye, please.”

“Nine-twenty, pal.”

The guy sucks his teeth, fishing in his pocket. 

“Christ, that’s gone up.”

“S’all gone up,” Richie says, tapping at the sign behind him when the guy tries sticking a blue RBS debit through the glass. CASH ONELY. Fucking Fak spelt it wrong and Richie still can’t be fucked to change it. “Fuckin’ Brexit, eh?”

“S’at right?” the guy says, jangling for change in his wallet. “Thought it was s’posed to be good for the fishing? Nae mair foreign boats in our waters, and all that.”

Richie shrugs. 

“You tell me, pal.” 

He slams the till and turns away to chuck a large chips in the fryer. 

“I’ve never had a problem with you Polish,” the guy says then, hanging over the counter to call after him across the spit of the oil and the hum of the fridge. “Hard workers.” 

Ah, Christ, here we go. Richie forces a smile over one shoulder. 

“Ha, aye yeah, we are.”

“I never voted for it, like,” he adds quickly. 

Hot oil licks at Richie’s forearms, just an annoyance by now. He sneaks another glance behind him. The guy’s jacket is ugly. It’s that petrolly-navy colour every da wears, the padding synthetic with its quilt lines unfashionably thin. 

“D’you hear about that one they found down on the beach?” he’s saying now. 

“What’s that, pal?” Richie says, wearily.  

“Some young lassie, apparently. Come off a lifeboat they reckon it was.”

“Havnae heard anyhin’ aboot that.”

Richie’s keen to shut this conversation down, but apparently yer man’s not quite finished waxing poetic about immigration, because he says, “I’ll tell you who it is always causin’ trouble.”

Fuck me. 

Just in time, he shovels the chips into a fresh polystyrene tray and tongs two battered sausage out the warmer. 

“It’s never your lot. It’s them damn p-” 

“Salt and vinegar, pal?” Richie interrupts, loudly, shooting the guy a stern look. The guy nods, sheepish. 

“Aye, yeah, go on.” 

Richie wraps his food in silence, thrusts it at him without so much as a thanks. He takes it with a curt nod, pops a guilty 50p in their tip jar before he scarpers. 

Richie blows a big raspberry up at the browning drop tile, eyeing the grease-spotted flaga Polski that’s currently tacked there to hide a missing bit. Fortunately and unfortunately, it’s been quite the twat barometer. 

He scoffs, fishing the 50p back out. As if he’s taking a penny of that degenerate’s money. Blood money. 

“Neil Geoff,” he yells through the back, where dickhead in question is cleaning the rumbler. “You want half a quid?”

“Eh?”

Fak pokes his fat head through the strip curtain. 

“Here,” he says, handing him the silver coin with no explanation, and Fak’s face lights up like the fucking castle at Christmas. Richie ruffles Fak’s hair under his greasy cap. “Don’t spend it all at once, ye dafty.”