#as an apology for the comic of my fic lmao
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thora-otg-xp · 14 days ago
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I give you some old man yaoi
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doughliciousfrosting · 1 year ago
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Consider this an apology for my last post and don't say I never did anything nice for u guys 🙄🙄 I based the comic off the poem in pic 4! I thought it was cute
Edit: APPARENTLY SOMEONE ALREADY MADE A FIC ABT THE EXACT SAME CHARACTERS WITH THE EXACT SAME POEM??? I swear it was a coincidence lmao, someone was nice enough to send me the fic so here it is for u guys!! It's a nice read I def recommend
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httpsserene · 7 months ago
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Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!
I'd really really appreciate it.
(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")
Ly ly ly
𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
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𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀
Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.
Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p
this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/
anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴
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Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.
He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.
Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.
He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.
You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.
The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.
Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.
It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.
Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.
Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.
Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).
He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.
Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.
He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.
Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.
He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.
“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.
Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.
“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.
“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”
“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.
“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”
“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”
You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”
“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”
You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”
Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?
Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.
Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”
“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”
“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”
“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”
He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.
“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.
You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.
You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.
Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“
“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”
You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.
Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.
“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”
Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.
“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”
At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”
You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”
“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”
Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.
You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”
Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”
Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”
“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”
“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”
The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.
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© httpsserene2024
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cirqosmos · 2 years ago
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Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!
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2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2
SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.
AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊
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a side character, how cute?
well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?
and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.
yes, that's right!
you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.
Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.
So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!
it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.
her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.
pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.
"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."
oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.
ah, the tremendous satisfaction.
and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?
you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?
and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?
just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.
a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"
oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.
"hyenas?! guards—"
"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.
the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.
it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.
times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.
Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.
like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.
plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.
now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.
"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.
not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.
"i suppose, you need help, milady?"
oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.
"milady?"
you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.
"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"
fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.
prince jungwon.
oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.
"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"
"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.
wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."
the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.
your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!
"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.
"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.
not with you!
"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.
you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.
for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.
so what in the actual fuck is this?
"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.
"my apologies?"
"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."
"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.
"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"
"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.
an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.
"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.
"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.
"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"
jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.
"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"
"t-third?"
"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.
oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.
finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."
"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."
"may i ask what is it, then?"
you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"
"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.
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"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.
Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"
you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."
"p-prince?
"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"
she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."
"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"
Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.
veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.
facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?
"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.
"ah, i remember now, the prince—"
"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"
"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"
"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"
"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.
right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.
"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"
"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"
ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!
laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"
"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"
"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"
"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.
why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.
"milady?! what's wrong?"
"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"
she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."
an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!
"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."
"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."
"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.
"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?
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this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.
your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.
of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.
and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.
you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.
asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?
plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.
"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.
you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.
"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."
he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"
cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"
"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.
"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.
"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"
"b-but?"
"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"
Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.
"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.
hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!
"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.
your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.
right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.
"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.
you can't let him have the upper hand on you.
"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"
the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"
"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.
"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."
an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.
a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...
"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."
"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"
"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."
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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago
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Fool For You
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Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
summary: Life as a single dad but life is about to get way harder when Steve falls for his son's teacher.
warnings: fluff. slight angst: mentions of steve's childhood. steve is sad over his son's first day of school. No pronouns are used for reader but they're described to wearing fem clothing. Steve compares reader to Miss Honey from Matilda. Readers skin tone/ethnicity is not mentioned. fic is set in 91 (let's pretend Matilda had already come out by then). meet cute. mentions of being a single parent. Steve's son is named Danny. ending is rushed lmao lets pretend it's not. bad writing/grammar errors. Not proofread!! 18+ plus only, MDNI
*If I missed anything lmk!
a/n: Awe my beautiful lovies!!! we are halfway done with my wonderful birthday week :( I just want to thank each and every one of you for supporting me and showing me nonstop love. I love each and everyone of you so dearly!!!! I also wanna apologize for the late upload! I hope you guys can forgive me!
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Maybe I’m crazy, but it’s hard to ignore you
And I can’t wrap my head around it, but it feels
Oh, like I loved you before.
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Being back in the hallways of Hawkins Elementary felt odd. Everything has stayed the same since the last time Steve went there, the paint of the walls, the decorations, even the smell was all the same. It smelled like a chilly autumn morning and books, innocence and childhood - a smell he didn't even realize he missed so much until he entered the building.
The cinder block lined walls hold memories, locking them in place until the end of time. Now his son's will be there along with them, a new generation of the Harrington family ready to leave their mark.
Walking hand and hand with Danny, Steve feels every single emotion any parent would on their child's first day. It's bittersweet, stinging him right through the heart with sadness and patching itself up with a sense of excitement. Danny on the other hand is a ball of energy, bouncing with every step he takes, like he always does.
The small boy is nothing but big smiles, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the new environment. His Ninja Turtle backpack is comically bigger than him, flopping off of the backs of his knees with every step he takes.
As he looks down at his son, who looks just like him at that age, a big rush of adoration falls onto the older man. Over the short five years that Steve became a dad, he's learned that you can fall in love with your baby all over again just like the first time you held them. Steve is always amazed by Danny and the amount of love that runs through his veins for the small boy, but sometimes you need a little refresher like right now.
"You excited to meet your new teacher, Danny?" Steve swings the small boys arm causing him to giggle.
Nodding his chestnut hair, he looks up at his father with wide eyes. "M'cited dad."
"You gonna make lots of friends?" Steve isn't sure if this question is appropriate but a part of him worries about his son's ability to make new friends, since Steve is the only one out of his friends that has a child.
"I fink so but they hav' to like tourtles." Danny isn't really bothered by the question too much, not when he's too focused on the bright decorations that stick all over the walls.
"Turtles, Dan." It comes out in a chuckle. Even though Steve always corrects his son on the word, he's still a sucker for the way he says it.
Making it to the end of the hall, they stop at the wooden door with the numbers 206 written over them. The memory of Steve's kindergarten years creep into his mind as they stand there, flashbacks of him holding his mom's hand as wet tears streamed down his face. He wonders if his mother remembers that or if she buried that in the back of her mind like everything else in his life.
Pulling himself out of his head, Steve knocks on the closed door and scoots back just a little to leave room for it to open. Crouching down to his son's level, he runs a nervous hand through his hair, fixing whatever pieces didn't stay down.
"Daddy, you're gonna mess it up." Danny pouts, lightly stomping his converse clad foot on the vinyl flooring.
Pulling his hand back, Steve realizes he's using his son for his anxious habits. "You're right, m'sorry. You gonna be okay?"
Danny rolls his eyes in a sassy way, the way that always makes Steve laugh. "Yesss dad."
Wow, his son is really his carbon copy.
The sound of the heavy door opening pulls both of their attention, Steve immediately springing up from his position wiping his clammy hands down his shirt.
Steve steels himself for who he's about to meet, releasing a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding. Now, Steve expected to see a middle aged woman, maybe even older. He pictured someone with a grandma type energy, sweet and welcoming. What he didn't expect was you.
Standing there in the doorway with the bright light of your classroom falling around you in a halo. A pretty floral dress hangs from your body, cinching your body just right without being too inappropriate. Your cheeks are puffed up as you smile brightly, eyes crinkled at the sides as you do.
You seem about the same age as Steve, no older than twenty five. Glasses sit on the top of your head, pushing back the front of your hair. In a way you remind him of Miss Honey, not looks wise but your aura. You're so fucking pretty and he doesn't think he'll be able to formulate a sentence.
"Let me guess," You stand with a hand on your hip, pretending to think hard, "You must be Mr. Daniel Harrington."
The little boy in question beams up at you, bouncing on his toes as he clutches his excited hands around the straps of his backpack.
"My dad calls me Danny." The lisp that he has is very noticeable when he says it. Steve can tell you want to coo so badly over the small boy, the flexing of your fingers not going unnoticed.
Crouching down to his level, you reach out a hand to Danny for a handshake. "What a pleasure to meet you Danny."
Placing his hand into yours, he shakes it in a jerky manner. His missing bottom tooth shows off with the way he smiles at you. Pulling your hand away, you stand up straight still looking at the small child.
"Danny whenever you're ready you can head right inside and find the cubby with your name on it!" Your voice is like the sun, bright and chipper.
Craning his next up to his dad, he waits for his dad's permission even though his body trembles with anticipation. Steve on the other hand doesn't want to let him go, not ready to detach himself from his baby he spent five years with.
Kneeling down, Steve wraps his son in one last hug. The sting of unshed tears hits his nose first, the lump that sits in the back of his throat waits patiently for the dam to break.
"Okay dad, I have to go!" The small boy giggles, not understanding the gravity of the situation. To him he thinks his dad is just being silly, not realizing that his dad's heart is breaking.
Reluctantly Steve pulls away, trying to remember the look on his son's face. His own flesh and blood, the boy he's worked so hard to raise by himself, and God is his heart full.
"Alright little man, go head inside." Tapping a heavy hand to the boy's head, he watches him duck into the classroom.
Popping back to his standing position, Steve tries his hardest to blink the tears away. You still stand there, observing the classroom behind your shoulder.
"Oh, Mr. Harrington," You call out before he can leave and he's quick to interrupt you.
"Please, call me Steve. I feel like I'm too young to be Mr. Harrington." He half chuckles, ignoring the skip of his heart when he makes eye contact with you.
"Steve," You correct, a bashful smile on your face, "I wanted to ask if you would be the only person to pick him up or if your wife would also be included in pick ups and drop offs."
"Oh, no I'm not- his mom isn't." Lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, he thinks of the best way to say it.
"Danny's mom isn't around, so it'll be just me on pick up and drop off duties. Possibly his aunt Robin but I'd let you know beforehand." A tight smile forms on his face.
"Oh I am so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed." You rush to apologize but you're quickly interrupted with the shake of his head.
"It's okay, you didn't know." He reassures and you visibly relax.
You're just as nervous as he is and he wonders if it's because you feel the same spark he does. Or maybe he's thinking too much into it. Either way, he'd like to think it's the latter.
"Well I'm very excited to teach Danny this year, he seems like a great kid." Although liking kids is part of your job, it sounds sincere coming out of your mouth and not rehearsed.
A coy smile breaks out on the older man's face, rose tint pours onto the rounded apples of his cheeks. "Y-yeah, he's a good kid. He can be shy sometimes but he loves to be around people."
Nodding your head, you sneak another peak behind you to check on the boy. "That's okay, I'm shy too."
When you turn to face Steve again, your lip is tucking behind your teeth. You're so fucking cute it makes him forget just how sad he was to drop off his own son and he doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing.
A long pause settles between the two of you, eyes becoming too bashful to meet. Steve kicks his foot at the hard floor, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans.
"Well Steve, it was so nice to meet you but I have to get back in there." You sigh hiking a thumb over your shoulder.
Steve feels like someone just popped him like a balloon, the small amount of joy he's felt just by talking to you has now been taken away. Meeting you with a tight lipped smile, he nods understandingly.
After bidding your farewells, Steve thinks about you. He wishes he wasn't so awkward, that he had acted way cooler than he did, and how breathtaking your smile was when you spoke to him and his son.
On his drive home all he could think about was you and his son, ping ponging back and forth between the two. Steve wishes that he met you before today, maybe in the coffee shop on Main or in line at the grocery store. He wishes that he would be able to ask for your number and take you out without any consequences brought on by the school.
He doesn't know how he's going to last a full year with Danny in school and he's really not sure how he can manage to keep a professional conversation with you every morning without falling in love.
The low hum of Rod Stewart's "Rhythm of My Heart" plays through the car, the soundtrack to Steve's drive home.
Ah, the rhythm of my heart
Is beatin' like a drum
With the word's I love you
Rollin' off my tongue
"Fuuuuuuck," His voice drags out in the safety of his car, "I'm screwed."
Yeah, he was definitely screwed.
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The ending feels rushed and it's not good but I hope you still enjoy! love you all :)
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universal-casey · 5 days ago
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For the Soviet Ame AU, what would USSR do if another state was to be admitted/made in the US (like if Puerto Rico became a state during this time). And what would the others do as well? Also what happened to the US territories, like did they become part of the USSR as well or did they get to escape?
Sorry for the bother and huge chunk of questions, just finally got around to asking about these things.
Okay. So I feel like death right now, so I’m not gonna have a lot of research under my belt.
But generally, after the initial annexation of America, America itself would not get any more land/states/territories/etc. Anything that WOULD have been acquired under “normal” circumstances would instead be directly acquired under the USSR.
Puerto Rico and the various other American territories either fully established themselves as sovereign states during annex, or were absorbed under Soviet rule.
Also please don’t apologize for sending any asks! It’s the main way y’all get lore since I STILL can’t figure out how to start a fic/comic lmao
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saphushia · 1 year ago
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I know very little about the DCU but everything about DP but for some reason your fic recs intrigued me and now I’m in dcxdp hell and I was wondering if you have more recommendations especially for finished fics 👀 you have opened a can of worms in my brain and I must feed them
ok but i literally got into this shit the same exact way aubdskjfg. literally fell ass deep into this from sheer curiosity barely knowing fuckin anything abt batman and now i've read more batman comics than i ever thought i would in my life.
anyways! yeah i think i've got a couple! apologize if there's a couple duplicates from my last recs i can't be bothered to go check it lmao
⭐= my absolute favorites
=ONESHOTS=
Late Night Talkin' [danny/dick] there-was-only-one-bed get-together wheremst danny n dick r hero partners
The Stiches That Bind Us Together [danny/dick] dick's not feeling well, so danny shows up at his apartment to take care of him. and danny knows well enough what hero-ing injuries look like to take a well-educated guess
Consequences danny + fear gas. bad combo
the case of the serial killer dick befriends wierd homeless teenager danny
It's a Small World Afterall [tim/danny] tim convinces danny to take him to amity on a date. he of course then gets kidnapped- by technus, of all people
Can You Fly Without Wings? circus gothica episode but danny gets taken all the way to gotham with freakshow
Cold nights and warm hands danny's sick, so dick of course invites him to stay at the manor, and they relax together
⭐Hollow the bats encounter one danny masters at a gala, and they're all immediately concerned about how blank the boy seems. danny's missing something, something important to him, and he's missing too much to even know what
Baby it's Cold Inside [tim/danny] danny unknowingly gets hit with cuddle pollen, and tim fulfills his boyfriend responsibility of providing snuggles
Surprise Halloween Haunting jason gets kidnapped to be a sacrifice in a ritual, and hijacks it to dial up a friend
4 Times Dick Grayson met Tim Drake's Partner +1 Time He Met Them All Together [tim/danny/tucker/sam] cute tim dating all the amity trio and confusing his brothers. also furry convention scene <3
⭐Bait and Switch thanks to a cult, danny ends up possessing jason, and neither are very happy about it
=FINISHED MULTI-CHAPTERS=
Last year, I starved. This year, I devour without guilt [danny/jason] danny takes one look at jason and decides he's in need of urgent ghost medical care, so he takes matters into his own hands
The Misadventures of Cosplay Man danny gets stuck in the DC universe for a little bit, so he goes around befuddling every villain and hero he comes across, with the power of bad cosplay.
⭐Satiate jason runs into danny while danny's having a little 'nice to meet you' ravenous brawl with the spirit of gotham. as ghosts do.
Vacation Crashers the fentons' camping trip goes south for all the usual ghost reasons, and that's before the batman crash lands in the middle of all of it. cue a teamup between jazz, danny, and all the bats, to take down vlad
Wanted: Dead and Alive tim rescues an injured teenager he found in a glowing green vat in an unknown experimental facility. proceeds to lose the injured teenager. loses his shit trying to find said teenager who is hiding way too effectively for a guy whose guts were on the floor a few days ago.
ok i'm only like halfway thru my bookmarks but i'm tired now kdsjbfgjkdsfg have fun~
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mamawasatesttube · 1 year ago
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what would u say it takes for a fic to get kon's tone correctly? or like. what things do u feel make the tone Wrong? (if u can put it into words ik this is a very vague question LMAO)
so in essence you are asking me to distill kon as a character. i will attempt to do this, but preemptively be warned i will likely be rambling.
there are a few things about kon that always stand out to me. i draw a lot on sb94 for his overall character, with sb11 and adventure comics to guide his character arc. to me, he is, in no particular order:
incredibly smart
but exceedingly hard on himself,
and prone to self-deprecation.
silly and goofy! a geek-ass loser!!
full of joie de vivre!
deeply, deeply passively suicidal.
quick to anger (mostly when younger)
but even quicker to cool off and apologize if necessary.
too quick, even. very forgiving of anything done to him, no matter how fucked up, if he thinks the person is genuinely sorry.
kind. kind. kind. kind. he wants to believe in everyone.
prone to naivety, because of it. (again, especially when younger.)
ready and willing to destroy himself if it helps someone else even a little bit. a bleeding heart that maybe bleeds too much.
deeply, deeply caring. about everyone. especially the folks nobody else really cares about.
pretty introspective (post-death and resurrection).
passionate. he does not do anything by halves.
haha silly!!! jokester!!! star trek time!!! wahoo!!!
so as you can see, he is a character built on contradiction. he loves life, but he's been suicidal since day one. he's a lot smarter than anyone, including himself, gives him credit for - he might not be the best strategist out there, but his creativity and ability to think on his feet are phenomenal! he's deeply kind to the core and yet worries about who he is, because he can't see himself how anyone else does. i could go on. it's about the contradictions - the kontrast, if you will.
in terms of fic writing, character voice, and tone: imagine a boy in the basement of a fucked up science lab surrounded by the frozen-in-stasis corpses of his twelve would-be brothers, the clones before him that didn't pan out. he is white-knuckling his gloves. he is repeating to himself, but i stay silly :3!! but i stay silly :3!! but i stay silly :3!! but i stay--
this, too, is about the kontrast. denial and humor are his best friends and his favorite coping mechanisms.
to me, i guess a fic gets kon right if it understands he is an unreliable fucking narrator. he's incredibly repressed. he just denies it all and pretends he's fine because he can joke it off. he stays silly!! X3!! but he's a genuinely sweet and thoughtful guy. he does all the farm chores for ma kent without being asked, loves his dog, has nightwing merch (a zine, specifically, from the looks of it) in his room, and physically is incapable of shutting up about star trek. he's a geek. he's silly. he's loving. he's deeply sad. he's a walking talking identity crisis.
also wrt fic writing. i mean i know saying this is a lost cause because anyone bothering to read a long post about kon isn't the kind of person writing fics that don't actually treat him as his own character, but. he is not fucking scared of bruce wayne oh my god. i will forever yell about these pages from sb94 #85 aka what might be my fav issue in the entire run:
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he doesn't stand for anyone being unjust, even if it's his bestie's mentor who he respects a lot!! even if he's a little nervous he tells bruce off and demands better from him!!! (granted, i also think this is some of my least favorite bruce writing ever - i don't like him sounding like a kkk manifesto someone hit find and replace on when he talks about metas, and i don't for the life of me understand why so many of his "fans" continue to eat that up and then shit it out in the year 2023, but that's getting off topic.)
ALSO. HE LOVES AND RESPECTS CLARK SO FUCKING MUCH. that's another thing fics get wrong. he does NOT resent clark for "not being around" and he does NOT tolerate anyone talking shit about him!! clark is his favorite guy. he idolizes him!! yes, he's sometimes sad about wanting to be closer to him, but never communicates this (and, again, this is also an editorial mandate). if kon was going to blame anyone for their relationship not being what he wants it to be, IT IS HIMSELF!!!! he does this literally on page in sb94, when he finds out clark has a secret identity and isn't superman all the time. he blames himself for not being someone superman would have wanted to confide in sooner. he is REALLY GOOD at blaming himself for things. he would never in his LIFE blame clark.
in conclusion. please enjoy this incredibly roumd krypto snoozing next to him in lena luthor's house. thank you for your time ♥
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void-occupation · 5 months ago
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hello its me- haunting your dashboard and askbox once more haha-
i saw this somewhere else but I don't remember where; what would hell's version of winter be like? I remembered your headcanon about alastor getting cold easily and I would just like to share my vision.
so hell has an extreme climate- we know that- so winter is basically Antarctica. not alastor-friendly AT ALL, it only ever happens once in a blue moon in hell so he's never really had to deal with this before. the whump possibilities are endless lmao. all-around suffering for the deer man.
do with this what you will! no pressure ofc, this is more like a concept you could make your own story or au with so i'm not sure if it counts as an ask- but do whatever you wanna, and if you did ever do a fic, (if that be a series or a one-shot) I would love to make a comic or cover as a Collab! :D
PLEASE never apologize for haunting my dash/asks, this blog is very ghost-friendly!!!!! All ghosts are allowed to haunt as they please!!
As for your beautiful vision: I love it. I will help it grow and will nourish it until it becomes a beautiful whump monster right here on my little laptop. Not sure WHEN I will make it happen, but I WILL make it happen. For now though, I will simply add to this headcanon (expect whatever I add to probably end up in the fic lol)
Winter in Hell is quite the phenomena - only occurring around once every century or so. It doesn't stick to a set schedule though (Lucifer still shudders when he remembers that time that they had five winters within the span of a single decade.) They are also completely by surprise: the most notice Hell has ever had for a winter is that the temperature dropped five degrees in one day. The next morning, sinners couldn't even open their doors the snow was piled so high. And of course, it wouldn't be Hell if the winters were the normal length, no. Winters in Hell can be anything from six months to the record of three motherfucking years. The last winter took place in the late 1910s - about a decade or so before Alastor died.
As mentioned in my previous headcanon, Alastor is a Louisiana boy. And Louisiana did not receive a SINGLE FUCKING INCH of snowfall the entire time Alastor was alive (trust me I CHECKED, that shit is WILD). That means a few things. 1.) Alastor has never seen snow in his now 120ish years of existing. 2.) Alastor has never felt anything below 50°F his entire existence. 3.) Alastor is painfully thin, which means his body has no way to preserve heat. And 4.) Alastor does not appear to have any clothing besides his three-piece suit that he wears all the time in Hell's usual blazing temperatures with seemingly no issue. Of course, this means that his suit would do nothing for him in Actual Cold Weather since he's so used to it.
With all of this knowledge, the only conclusion I can draw is that once winter actually hits, Alastor is royally FUCKED. Especially considering that a winter in Hell is compiled of all of the worst things about winter. The cold air is dry, and the wind is sharp and biting - in the way that leaves your face stinging and your hands and lips splitting. Somehow simultaneously, the snow can change between huge flakes and straight-up sleet, which if you've ever been in sleet, you know it sucks major ass.
If someone doesn't give Alastor a heated blanket He Will Die. Alastor makes the mistake of going outside exactly twice (because let's face it, I love him but this man is too prideful to accept that the weather will kill him after only one attempt - he's Just A Bit Dumb). Both times he has to be rescued by someone at the hotel after he almost fucking freezes to death like An Idiot, and he manages to also get hypothermia both times because he refuses to do anything in halves. After he also almost freezes to death in his room (which is how they find out there's a draft), he's not even allowed in there, and they move him to a guest room right next to Charlie and Vaggie's room that Lucifer added a fireplace to. He alternates between the kitchen (the oven is very warm and Food), his room (the fireplace is very warm and the bed is cozy), and the couch in the lobby (the fireplace is very warm and the couch is cozy and also Alastor is antisocially social).
He is cold. He is miserable. He is perpetually shaking like an old chihuahua. Some of the residents thought it was funny at first, but that quickly stopped after the first Almost Death. They have to watch him because Alastor becomes very despondent, and if he stops shivering, he needs to be warmed up again. Alastor is more exhausted during the winter then he has ever been in his entire existence due to all the energy his body is burning trying to stay warm. He's sleeping more than ever, but he looks absolutely terrible - eyebags so dark they look like a goth guy's eyeshadow, hair a mess, and an overall very strained look about him. He also eats a lot less, so he begins losing weight which is the exact opposite of helpful in this situation. It gets to the point where Husk is willingly braving the elements to get to the butcher shop Alastor likes just to get sinner meat so he will hopefully get something in him.
This winter is the first time any of them have ever seen him willingly snuggle up to someone, and it's fucking LUCIFER because this little bastard puts out the most heat because for some reason that it part of being a seraphim. Lucifer for his part just kinda lets it slide because Alastor would probably die if he didn't and that would make Charlie sad. Ok, and he kinda reminds Lucifer of when Charlie was little and would snuggle up to him, but that's no one's business but his own. If he's a little softer with Alastor afterwards, and less easily provoked by the sinner, that is also no one's business but his own.
hooo, I really let this one get away from me lol. Hope you enjoy this, and please feel free to haunt me as much as you want!! And when I eventually get this pushed out, it would be absolutely fantastic if you decided to make a comic/cover. I absolutely love your art
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pandorascripts · 2 years ago
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Absent
pairing: poison ivy x reader
warnings: mediocre angst, proofread once.
note: wrote this at like twelve last night. I just need to get something out lmao. I’m going to start writing a bit more DC stuff until I get get my spark back. Currently writing another Ivy fic based on the comic, Harleen.
———
The door creaks as you slowly open it, peeking in. Pamela’s mixing green and purple liquids, mumbling to herself as they bubble and ooze. 
“Hey, what are you doing? It’s, like, three am,” you say. 
“I’ll be up soon, just need to do a couple more things.” 
You frown, never knowing Pamela to not look you in the eye when she’s speaking. 
“Alright.” You turn to head out, leaving her to her work. “Love you.”
“Yeah.”
You close the door, swallowing harshly. This is ridiculous, it’s been going on for months now. The neglect, the off-handed responses to meaningful statements, and it hurts. It hurts so much, and you swear to God you can feel your heart shattering. 
You blink a coup times, rubbing at them. 
 Why are you crying? She’s got more important things than you, you know that.
You walk up the wooden steps, but stop short. You’re way too tired to climb up another flight just to get to your room. Curling up on a way-too-short step, you let yourself weep. 
The step above you digs into your shoulder every time you let out a sob, but you don’t adjust. The pain somehow grounds you, keeping you from actually bawling your eyes out. Your hand sits in your mouth, stifling what should have been louder cries. You don’t care about the bite marks that will be there tomorrow. 
Pamela didn’t come up to bed that night, not did she bother to put you in an actual room. 
You’re thinking about leaving, ditching Pamela in the night. You cant go on like this, but you’re way too worried to confront her about her behavior. She’ll just put you off, gaslight you and tell you you’re just being dramatic. 
You want her to notice your bruised hand, you want her to notice your puffy eyes the next morning, you want her notice your pain. 
She doesn’t. 
She ignores you all day again, sitting in her lab and talking to her plants. You know she loves those things more than you, she used to tell you that she loved you more. It’s a lie. It always has been. 
You open the door to her lab again, forgetting to knock. 
The creak of the door must’ve thrown her off, because the next thing you know Pamela’s cursing and yelling. Things are spilling over her desk, papers are soaked and burning. 
“Pam! Oh my God! I’m so—“
“Get out!” she yells, pulling her hair as she finally faces you. “GO!”
You close the door with a slam, mortified. Pamela’s never yelled at you before. She knows you hate it, you hate arguing and screaming, she knows what your past was, and she promised to never yell. It was a mutual agreement, and even when you both made each other upset, it didn’t last long. You’d both apologize and talk about it, get over what was causing bumps and come out stronger. You didn’t know if you’d make it out of this one. 
You can still her Pamela yelling, things smashing against the door your head is lain on. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and after that, the only noise you hear is her yelling and your own tears hitting the floor. 
Your knees give out and you slide against bumpy and splintered wood. Your face is soaking, tears painting an ugly portrait on your face. 
As your sobbing against the door, the only thing you can think of is leaving. And right now, it seems like the smart thing to do. 
You don’t bother Pam for the next week, you leave her to be in the greenhouse, actively skirting around her when she leaves for her lab. You don’t like being like this— awkward strangers. For God’s sake, you’ve been dating for five years, you know her inside and out. But she feels different, unstable. It scares you, mortifies you. You don’t know what she’s capable when she’s like this, and you don’t know if you want to find out. 
The letter you write is long, it takes up two full pages of paper, and your handwriting is neat. The only thing screwing it up are the copious amounts of wet spots, which smear the ink. You place the note on her side of the nightstand, and start grabbing essentials. You take everything you can think of, everything that seems important. 
You don’t realize your crying until your vision is completely blurry, but still, you push onwards. You grab a couple sweaters and a couple pairs of jeans. You don’t fold them, instead slamming them into a suitcase as you zip it up. 
“What are you doing?”
Everything stops. Your hand, the loud zipper, your breathing, even your tears don’t flow anymore. It’s like everyone’s waiting, waiting and waiting for Pamela to understand. You take in a shaky breath, finishing the zipper. “Leaving.” 
You don’t turn to face her, instead you pretend to do more with the suitcase, checking empty pockets and extra compartments. You hear her footsteps getting closer and closer and closer, her hand rests on your shoulder. You still don’t face her, you can’t. The moment you look at her you’re screwed, you’ll melt into her and fall into the same pattern. It cant happen. 
“Stop. Please.”
Another hand rests on your other shoulder, slowly turning you around. Pamela looks so heartbroken, and you let out a sob. It’s useless to fight her, you can’t, you’ve never been good at sticking up for yourself. She tucks your head into her shoulder, apologizing from some stupid thing that doesn’t even matter. Pamela cant even figure out what she was doing wrong, she’s reaching, apologizing for yelling, as if the months of emotional neglect aren’t a problem. 
“I’m so tired, Pam.”
You know she’d be crying if wasn’t stopping herself, the last thing either of you wants is you to be covered in bubbling blisters. 
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t bother trying to correct her, to tell her that you miss her. How could you? She’s always there, she’s never not fifteen feet away from you. You cant miss her. But still, you do. 
“I miss you,” you cry out, repeating it over and over again. 
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.” Her voice is soothing, lulling you into hopeful security. It isn’t until your eyes are drooping shut, you’re breathing heavy and loud, that you realize what she’s doing. 
You don’t know what time it is, how long you’ve slept, or where you are, but it doesn’t matter, because the familiar scent of spring wraps around you like a blanket, and you sigh. Everything feels right, a sense of calm eases you, and you really can’t remember what you were so upset about last night. 
“Morning,” Pamela whispers. 
You feel her hand slide up to your shoulder and her chin softly pressing into your head. This is right, everything is okay. 
You mumble back an obscured “G’morning” and bury yourself deeper into her. 
Her chest shakes as she laughs lightly, and you grumble in protest from the movement. 
“Can we just stay here?” you ask, threading your hand in her hair as you do so. 
“I wish, but we’ve got plans, darling.”
You grumble, clearing annoyed. “Yeah but this is so much better.”
Pamela starts playing with your hair, careful not to tangle it. You feel happy at this, happy that she remembers how bad your bed head is. 
“It is.”
“So we can stay here?”
Pamela starts laughing again, her chin rubbing against your head as she shakes her own. “No.”
“Plans, shlamsh! We don’t need to go anywhere.”
“I suppose we don’t need to, but we should. Selina and Harley are waiting on us, though.”
“They’ll entertain each other just fine without us.”
A moment of silence passes through the two of you, each taking in the thought of those two alone together. 
“Yeah we need to leave.”
“Oh God, why did I tell them to wait for us?” Pamela asks, you don’t need to see her face to know she’s mortified. 
“Selina’s probably at Harley’s throat about now. You told her not to bring those mutts right?”
No response. 
“Right?”
“No…. I figured it would be common sense!”
“Harley doesn’t have common sense! She has Harley sense! She probably brought Bud and Lou!”
“We really need to leave, darling.”
Pamela’s up and out of the bed, dressed in a green blouse and black shorts before you even know it. You get up too, looking to the end of the bed. Frowning, you unzip the suitcase. 
“I-I’m sorry, Pam. I don’t know what I was thinking last night. It was stupid, really.”
Pamela closes the suitcase, handing you a sweater of hers and a pair of leggings. 
“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have yelled.”
You nod your head, still taking the blame. Pamela smiles, giving you a kiss on the cheek. 
The first kiss you’ve gotten from her in months. 
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quillium · 2 months ago
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Heya! This isn't really an "ask you"- haha. But I just wanted to write to you- for quite a bit honestly. First of all, I hope you're well. The first piece of work I've read of yours was "Ben & May's". I absolutely loved it. I read it way back in 2020. I was 15 years old, kinda angry at the world lmao. But I found my solace in reading and writing stuff by strangers on the internet. I commented on your story- which in fact was one of the first and only times I ever bothered interacting with someone online. I don't know why, but reading your story made me warm. Warm to the core. And I wanted to share my own story! About how I related to an incident in the fic, because I snuck out of my house with a broken arm to participate in the science fair at school. You responded sometime later and congratulated me and told me to take care of myself. And you said something else too. It might have been in a joking way but you said something along the lines of "You're literally Peter Parker lmao". I don't know why but that really stuck with me. Peter Parker is a character I grew up worshipping, I'd read all the comics and watch every show with him in it with my dad. I've always loved school and learning new things, but it was always hard for me to find confidence. My dad and I are pretty tight but I can't say the same for me and my mom. And for a great chunk of my life, I've had to live with her, which didn't exactly yield the greatest upbringing (which you can probably tell by the way I'm writing to you now haha). So when someone even humouredly made that comparison- I was super taken aback. Super doubtful. But I was awestruck too. I've never been complimented before- in such a meaningful way from anyone other than my dad (that has since changed thankfully, but at the time young me was still recovering from huge life changes). So it really got me to take a good look at my life and actually embrace being who I wanted to be. I started picking up stuff at school again, and I made friends. I started writing. I hung out with my dad more- of course, watched so much Spiderman and read so many comics. I managed to graduate high school early. Now I'm at university. I graduate soon. I took up Biology and Chemical Engineering. And I'm happy. I never really forgot you, or your writing which gave me so much comfort. I logged back on AO3 recently and was super happy to still see you writing. I just knew I had to reach out. Now I apologize if this is like weird, but I just had to put this out there. Thank you, really- thank you for your warm response and the art you put into the world. I don't think you'd even remember my comment on your work or this small interaction, but to me, it made a whole lot of difference. I really hope you're well, and continue to be. I can't believe I made a tumblr account just for this qwq XOXO
BRO I REMEMBER YOU. When your comment came in, I was 17-years-old, living more in the world of my writing than reality, right about to enter university, and even if I was half-joking I was also low-key dead serious that you were literally Peter Parker. I was, and continue to be, incredibly impressed by you. I think I might have told my sister about you in a sort of like, dang, there are some brilliant and crazy people in the world, and they're reading my fics for some reason sort of way.
I'm doing very well! I've grown closer to my family, built lovely friendships, and am also set to graduate university (perhaps predictably, I'm a literature major). As weird as this might sound in turn, a great deal of my confidence and growth was built by comments like yours. There's nothing half as sweet as the portion of someone's life given to you because they saw a bit of their story in yours, and that glimpse of someone else's reality opens up the possibilities for mine. No matter the wonderful little interaction we had, it has been meaningful and a pleasure for me. You've given me a great deal of warmth as well.
Congratulations on the rebuilt confidence, the new things you've learned, the friends you've made, your seriously incredible academic achievements, and the many other delights that I'm sure you've attained. You really have worked diligently, relaxed peacefully (I hope!), and lived wonderfully. Good job, and I hope you continue to live well <3
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robinainthood · 6 months ago
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hello pls tell me about '!!!!! chatfic!!!!!!!!!!! aka sk8 the infinity nahmsayin' the title has enchanted me due to it's many exclamation points
!! That is very fair and understandable. I apologize for the wait btw, I was having dinner and then also had to reformat this for tumblr bc yea lmao
Concept: This was my first attempt at a chat fic ever, thus it was hardly a fic and mostly an experiment. I'd love to revisit the concept with a different ship/dynamic at some point because it was a lot of fun!!
Excerpt (it's a bit long due to the formatting, sorry!):
Ice King ❄️ Today at 2:09 AM hey, you up? Iori is typing... Iori Today at 2:13 AM This better not be a booty call... Ice King ❄️ Today at 2:13 AM you wish lol im at the rink. come see me Iori Today at 2:13 AM Now?? It’s two in the morning Gojo Ice King ❄️ Today at 2:13 AM and look whos up Iori Today at 2:14 AM I'm STUDYING. Some of us actually care about our grades Ice King ❄️ Today at 2:14 AM studying at 2am is chaotic as hell will you come if i promise it’ll be worth it ↱ Ice King ❄️: "studying at 2am is chaotic as hell" Iori Today at 2:14 AM Like skating at 2am is any better lmao? ↱ Ice King ❄️: "will you come if i promise it’ll be worth it" Iori Today at 2:14 AM No. You need to get your ass off the ice and into bed Ice King ❄️ Today at 2:14 AM pleaseee Ice King ❄️ Today at 2:19 AM dont make me call you Ice King ❄️ Today at 2:27 AM 🥺👉👈 Iori is typing... Iori Today at 2:31 AM Ughhh you're so annoying ↱ Iori: "Ughhh you're so annoying" Ice King ❄️ reacted: "😇" Today at 2:35 AM Iori Today at 2:38 AM 😑 Fine. I'll be there in ten ↱ Iori: "😑" Ice King ❄️ reacted: "💙" Today at 2:38 AM Iori Today at 2:40 AM Weirdo
I do love these two actually I always forget how much I love them lmao. Maybe I'll actually finish this up and post it for funsies :)
Obligatory edit to add: the gratuitous use of exclamation points in the title was, in fact, a result of my having just discovered that chat fics were a thing and being comically excited to try it out myself hsgdjkh.
It's just another way to get to know your characters like it's a great vehicle for experimenting with their personality (would X character type formally or informally? would they use emojis or emoticons? proper punctuation or improper? abbreviations or spelled out? paragraphs or spam texts?). Plus, the formatting part tickles my brain :)
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chocotonez · 2 years ago
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skz + accidentally breaking s/o’s important item
a/n this is for @kimnari23 !! thanks so much for requesting, feel free to ask me to rewrite it if you don’t like it :) (reposted due to some formatting errors)
warnings/genre: more fluff than angst tbh, crying, somewhat of a crack fic but it’s just my humor sorry, swearing, small arguments/banter, g/n reader but mentions of reader owning makeup and jewelry, tell me if anything else should be tagged!
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chan
-kinda sees his life flash before his eyes as soon as your favorite mug hit the tiled floor
-he doesn’t want to buy a replacement because that ruins the whole sentimental value and the reason you loved that mug so much, but he doesn’t want you to be upset, and-
-the door swung open and you found chan just blankly staring at the shattered mug, before looking up at you and quickly hugging you
-“I’m so so so sorry”
-profusely apologizing and asks what he can do to make it better, is super patient and lets you sulk as much as you want
-buys you a bunch of gifts to apologize but he always reminds you that he knows how much that mug meant to you
-he doesn’t want to see you upset especially towards him, so he does a ton to try and make up for it
lee know
-he ruined your favorite dress shirt by washing it with a bunch of other clothes
-your dress shirt was now tinted a weird brownish purple from another one of your clothing articles, and the second it came out of the wash he didn’t even realize it was that shirt you loved and folded it as usual, placing it in your dresser
-“minho!!” “what?” “my shirt!”
-immediately feels extremely bad, doesn’t know if he should lie and be like “omg how did that happen” or if he should fess up right now as you sigh and huff over your shirt being ruined
-he’ll tell you at some point but he’s very scared you’ll just never forgive him so he buys like 20 of the same shirt to make sure if he makes a mistake you’ll have a back up!!
-tries to lighten your sour mood as much as possible, not so you’ll stop being upset but just so you’ll stop being upset at him
-“I mean the color isn’t even that ugly, you always pull off anything anyways-“ “don’t even rn”
changbin
-he was just walking when he stepped on something and immediately let out a string of swearing before he saw that he stepped on one of your favorite bracelets, and it was now broken
-probably goes full mechanical engineer and tries to figure out how to fix it but it doesn’t work and he’s crying and you come home to him covered in glue and tape with a broken bracelet in his hands
-apologizing a ton and trying to explain that it wasn’t at all intentional, yada yada
-it’s almost comical how he was just as upset as you were over the broken bracelet, but once you get over the initial disappointment he gives you any space or support you need
-makes you a new bracelet using youtube and patience he didn’t know he had
-as long as you’re happy <333 he’s happy <333
-puts the broken bracelet up somewhere as a decoration, so you don’t have to throw it away and you can still technically use it-just as decoration
-“I mean it looks good with that vase, don’t you think? Kidding, you know I’m sorry!”
hyunjin
-probably makes this 😐 face when he sees that he knocked over his drink onto your favorite book
-the book was special because of how much love and annotating you poured into it, the lovingly marked pages and the amount of notes combated the text of the book itself, pressed flowers in the cover and little notes from friends, the book wasn’t even about the content, just the memories
-and now it was stained with coffee and melted ice
-yknow that one scene from the incredibles?? where the dad dries a book w a hair blower?? he tries that but starts a small fire and immediately goes to air drying
-“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to fix this?”, does his best to communicate a solution with you because he feels so guilty lmao
-really appreciates if you’re patient/understanding, but he also gets it if you get upset or have a bit of an outburst
-would probably transcribe all of your favorite notes, pages, save the pressed flowers and your favorite bookmark, he would do his best to preserve what was left of the soggy pages
-tbh this one isn’t too bad, so maybe u two reach a point where you fixed the book back to a satisfactory point! :)
han
-“shitshitshitshitshit” -his mind, realizing he’s practically chewed off a whole part of your lucky pen
-he asked to borrow one, and since you love ur boyfie sm you gave him your lucky pen so he could annotate lyrics or notes for a song he was producing, and then he got too lost in thought and then he started chewing on your pen as a habit and-
-very forward about it but also very scared you’ll hate him forever tbh, but he still jokes about it?? he’s strange like that tbh
-“uhm. well I personalized it for you??” “huh-yOU ATE MY PEN?”
-comforts you a ton and gives you lots of hugs and kisses to make up for it, even holds a little pseudo funeral for the pen so you can mourn
-honestly makes the whole ordeal a lot of fun, even though you were obviously upset
-took you stationary shopping as an apology gift and let you pick out any pretty pen you wanted, and promised he would just use those cheap ballpoint ones from now on
felix
-shocked pikachu face when he accidentally broke the charm off one of your earrings
-it wasn’t even fixable as the piece on the earring that held the charm broke off too, so even if he did piece it back together it would be uneven and clunky compared to the other one
-facetimes you immediately to explain what happened or tells you immediately so you don’t have to find out yourself, he feels it’s better for you to know straight up
-probably sulks away for a hot minute cuz he’s teary eyed but he doesn’t want you to comfort him, you need to cry too
-once you calm yourself down and reassure the both of you that it’s okay and that it’s just an earring, it’s not shattered or rusted, and it’s okay!
-lots of hugs, maybe he even helps you repurpose the earring into something else, putting the charm on the bracelet or smth like that
-probably ends up surprising you w another pair of earrings you’ve been eyeing
seungmin
-brb googling breakable items that hold sentimental value I’m running out of ideas
-anyways he accidentally dropped an eyeshadow palette you adored, a gift from a loved one and he watched all the pigment spill out
-you know those tik toks of ladies who fix makeup really well with all those fancy tools?? tries to do that but ends up messing it up further and is just like “well fuck”
-buys you another one in advance, he knows it’s not the same as the eyeshadow palette was important cuz of the sentimental value, but at least you’ll still have the colors
-“I’m really sorry about this, it wasn’t intentional, promise.”, probably the most nonchalant about this?? not that he doesn’t care, but I gave him a bit of a superficial item and he also just finds it as a problem with an easy solution
-but don’t get me wrong he definitely listens and hears you out if you’re seriously upset, gives you a lot of support even if he doesn’t really understand why you’re that upset
-but he’ll never ever make you feel bad for feeling <3
jeongin
-I’m totally running out of ideas for breakable things that would hold sentimental value so I’m just gonna say he accidentally threw away a photo you really loved
-it was you and your loved ones, taken at a restaurant on a polaroid camera celebrating your birthday, it was your fave pic ever and you carried it ever
-but you got a new wallet and left a lot of crumpled receipts and miscellaneous stuff out and he just wanted to help you clean :((
-and by unlucky coincidence you only discovered it was missing after trash day, and you were turning the apartment upside down to try and find your favorite Polaroid, only for jeongin to remember a polaroid in the pile of trash
-immediately panicking and questioning his entire life decisions
-“uhm…I think I threw it away I’m gonna be so fr w you babe”, and there’s literally nothing he can do about it so he’s honestly so devastated because he just hates seeing you upset
-I think he’s a bit pushy about it and wants to fix the problem as soon as possible, he obvs understands the emotional value but seeing ou sad breaks his heart
-for ur next birthday he makes sure to replicate the photo on a Polaroid camera for new memories tho :,)
-lots of cuddling and apologies, he’s probably just as upset as you in this situation and is hard on himself for missing something so important
-you both r comforted in knowing you can just make new memoriesmemories :)
-for your next birthday he replicates the photo for your new wallet tho :)
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sugoi-and-spice · 8 months ago
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Hi! I’ve been planning on sending you an ask ever since I binge read the Play Nice!
Like I don’t think I can ever describe well enough how much I love and enjoy it! I can see how much effort you put into every chapter and conversation as it flows so perfectly! And the rollercoaster of feels was just mwah! Exactly what I’ve been looking for! Like my heart really jumped up my throat and my mouth fell open when Shiggy asked her about her boyfriend’s dick?! Omg!😄 Ahh and how bad I felt for her when they had sex for the first time. After their feelings became more clear, I waited the whole time for her to break up with Mirio. You portrayed Shiggy’s character so well and I especially liked when he was pretending to be nice to her friends!😄 Of course we hate AFO in this too for being a dick obviously, but Kurogiri🫶🏽 Ahh he was so lovely! And I liked the little details you added, like her forgetting what Kurogiri looked like as if he was just a dark mist, you know! I also love how you pointed out the fact that red is a color that suits perfectly for Tomura🥹 I also find myself reading the parts where Spinner makes Shiggy realize how horrible he was to her at first and how he apologized her about the pain he had caused. The realization and his apology is actually something I’m interested in to hear how you planned it and if it was difficult?
I think there are much much much more I like to say, but so that this won’t end up too long, I’ll also send you a ⭐, so pls tell us about what you yourself have been dying to comment🤗
OOhhhh my gosh thank you so much for all of these kind words!!! I'm so glad that you love the fic and especially that you noticed all the fun little callbacks and details to the OG series that I threw in. For the Kurogiri one, I was really proud of that ref, but also, it was a way for me to get away without describing what he looked like without a quirk! Lmao!
And oooh yay, thank you so much for the Director's commentary request!! I think I'd like to use this time to talk about MC's hometown: Sukari!
A Google search will quickly inform readers that this is not a real place lmao. I was thinking of going with a real town in Tottori or Shimane prefecture - very heavily considered Iwami as a little throwback to my days in the Free! Iwatobi Swim Club fandom lol (Iwatobi is based off of Iwami), but ultimately I decided that I wanted to have a little more freedom with the location, since I'd already locked myself into this dumb location research whirlpool by having the main story take place in Tokyo. (And I'm stupidly detailed with things like that).
And especially since in the potential sequel I'm brewing up, MC and Shigaraki are going to spend a pretty meaningful amount of time there. 😉
So I decided to make a new location! Fans of Shig/Reader fics are obviously familiar with the fic Griefing and I LOVED what Rotpeach did in that fic with their original locations, continuing with the Star Wars naming conventions. (Reader's neighborhood of Sabuterra being a play on Subterrel) Horikoshi utilizes in the original series. So I adopted that into mine too.
Sukari is a simplification of Sukarifu - which is how you pronounce Scarif in Japanese!
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Scarif felt like the best one-to-one for the type of beach town that MC grew up in. The only other beach we see in Star Wars I believe is Kashyyk, which obvi, already has it's own namesake in the main MHA series, Kiyashi Ward. And I guess there's Wasskah, but I thought the vibe of Scarif was a lot prettier and more fitting.
(Only beaches we see in the movies and The Clone Wars at least. Lol sorry, I don't keep up with the books or comics.)
Plus, Rogue One is probably one of, if not my favorite Star Wars Movie so it all tied together nicely.
Thanks again for the Director's commentary ask! I'm having a lot of fun with these so if anyone else wants to get some quick behind-the-scenes on any of my fics, go ahead and send in an ask!
Original prompt here!
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mike----wazowski · 8 months ago
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sunday six part 2 except it's monday 2:52AM bc im feeling oddly productive - if you saw my first post no you did not i posted it before it was ready and lost all motivation for that one lmao
tagging the sillies @four-white-trees @skysquid22 @overdevelopedglasses @passthroughtime @woundedheartwithin
my last one was about yayoi but again you didnt see that so take some more hawaii bond bingo inspired ichihan instead (will it be a full fic? perhaps 👀👁)
***
Ichiban stuck the label of his bottle onto Joon-gi's sleeve. Joon-gi picked it off and folded it neatly in half, not missing a beat in his explanation.
"- so that's my personal view on the best entry point for the comics, though it's still largely debated upon," he finished. "I wouldn't listen to those who say to start with the Williams run. That would be like reading the last page of a book first."
"... The Americans have got it all wrong," Ichiban said, frazzled by this complex web of information. "If I wanna start reading a manga back home, all I gotta do is pick up volume one. This shit is too complicated."
"I don't disagree." His momentum calming down, Joon-gi glanced towards the quieting beach. The tide was beginning its retreat. "... It seems I've been keeping you here for a while."
Ichiban shifted in his seat, checking his watch. Indeed, an hour and a half had passed since they sat down at the beach bar. "Huh. I hadn't noticed."
"Sarcasm, I'm assuming," Joon-gi chuckled.
"No. I really hadn't noticed," Ichiban said. "Time flies when I'm with ya, Han-chan. And that wasn't sarcasm either."
"I find that hard to believe." With a hint of colour in his cheeks, Joon-gi rapped his fingers against his beer bottle. "My apologies, Kasuga-san. If you have better things to do, I won't stop you."
The stiffness had returned, when moments before he had been full of quiet enthusiasm. It was a more familiar sight to Ichiban, but not for the better.
"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be," Ichiban told him.
"... You do realise that also sounds sarcastic?" Joon-gi asked, with a tiny smile.
"C'mon, dude. You should trust that I mean it by now," he scolded. "Keep goin', Han-chan."
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raconteur-wanpi · 18 days ago
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do you read fanfic? any recommendations (esp if they're reiju focussed)?
I'm not much of a fanfic person unfortunately! Absolutely nothing against the medium, I just never really got used to it or found myself in those circles. Most fandoms I've been in the past had more of a focus on other mediums like fanart/fangames etc, so it really is just coincidence and circles. Especially considering I'm someone who doesn't get easily into shipping outside of a few exceptions, and that seems to be the focus of a good chunk of fics.
That being said, I myself have written one (1) fic my entire life and it IS a Reiju fic! I've talked about it here before in another post, but the truth is I am very very embarrassed of my own writing due to a) not being a native English speaker and fucking grammar & syntax up rather often and b) Not being a Prose person, so I don't have any examples or experience with what makes it "good" or not. I have a background in storyboarding, animation and comics, which differs a lot in terms of storytelling rules.
That being said, I'll link it here anyway because I'm trying to unlearn my internalized cringe and social anxiety and engage with creative works and fandom more often lol.
Warning: I find it cringe and purple-y with bad pacing and flow. I know I can't be a good critic of my own work but lmao, engage if you're tolerant to that. If you've already checked it before then my apologies for not providing anything new lol.
In terms of One Piece fics from others, I've actually only (tried to) read like 2-3 of them, like, ever. And the one I actually found noteworthy and interesting and well written, is a gen Vinsmoke Family & Sanji-focused time-travel fic called "Salad Days" that's still updating and about 3 chapters in. It seems to be pretty popular (I think?) so it's probably not a revolutionary or new suggestion. Probably? <- out of touch with this community.
So far it only features Reiju a little, but according to the author, it will have more of a focus on her and her dynamic with Sanji later on, so? I suggest it a lot anyway because it impressed me despite my lack of contact with the fanfic scene. That's all!
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