#but he doesn't expect anyone to hold back for him

[maythevoidnotscreamback]

For this Alex Hirsch to try to slap human morals or emotions onto what is essentially nature itself personified is weird to me, ngl.

Like, the Unicorn didn't ask to be, essentially, drugged and grabbed from her 'bed' by Mommy Fortuna when they happened upon her and while Schmendrick did help release her, he didn't have to follow after her. He chose to do that of his own volition for his own reasons under the guise of 'leading the way'. Something we all found out was a lie, unintentional or not, when Molly reveals they've apparently been going the wrong way the whole time. As it is, the Unicorn, when he got himself in trouble, did not have to rescue him from his plight; not even as repayment for releasing her.

Why would I say that?

Because 1) she's not human and thus not beholden to our laws or rules or sensibilities of reciprocation or what-ever-else and 2) she is, as said previously, nature personified. You can make offerings, you can make sacrifices, you can beg and pray and plead but nature will not care for what humans want it to do or why. The harvests could still fail, the animals could still get sick, the ships might still not return or the fish not plentiful, the seasonal dangers could still kill you. It doesn't matter. It will do as it will. Because while we humans need nature in any and all its forms to thrive, nature doesn't need us at all. It'll still be here long after we might all be gone.

As it is, did Schmendrick even give her thanks for that? It's been a while since I last saw it, mind, but I think I remember him blustering about how 'he had it handled' even though he clearly didn't. And while, yes, Molly was emotional at finally getting to see a Unicorn, the Unicorn herself is confused but willing to offer what comfort she can to someone in distress. Molly even goes so far as to 'forgive her' when she most likely doesn't care for or even need forgiveness because, in all reality, what the Unicorn represents is what humans have made of it. Not what it actually is.

And then there's Prince Lir. Looking back to my childhood thoughts after watching this movie, I remember I felt bad that he and Amalthea didn't stay together, but looking at those same memories as an adult? There's a bit of an unsettling... vibe to it. He actually complains to Molly that he felt guilty for killing a dragon that I'm pretty sure, I could be horribly wrong since I haven't seen it for a while as said before, he didn't have to kill. It wasn't threatening anyone, wasn't 'holding a hostage' for him to rescue, it even looked to be living in a remote place. He did it because he wanted to. To show off. But he complains because Amalthea didn't care he did it. That she wasn't fawning over him as he was expecting (mind, it could be because he was raised to expect that) because he killed a dragon. That she wasn't interested in him just 'cause he was a Prince, adopted or not.

All that aside, I loved the movie then and I still love it now. The songs felt perfect to me, the artwork was gorgeous, the characters were memorable and the climax was amazing.

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 1]

The first time Tim sees him, he is seven, standing by his Father's side, and bored out of his mind.

The 'party' is numbingly dull, full of adults, sparkling flutes of champagne, tiny sandwiches, and fake twinkling laughter. Tim doesn't understand how his parents find any of it interesting; in his opinion, nothing about just talking to people for hours and hours straight sounds as exciting as they make it look.

He wishes he could just go home already. Not that his time in the Drake estate gets any more exciting than bothering house elves or spending his day in the library, but it's still better than this.

Or, Tim thought so until he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering on the floor.

He turns around, and there are yelps and screams of surprise and angry swearing. It takes Tim a few seconds to realize what's going on - a few people are holding their hands to their faces, like trying to hide them, and he gets a glimpse of an elephant trunk peeking through the palms of one old lady.

And then, there's a sound of loud, delighted laughter ringing through the room, and the sound of footsteps, and-

"DANIEL!" Tim hears Mr. Masters, the host of the event, yell at the top of his lungs.

A moment later, Tim sees a boy zooming past him, elbowing the adults on his way to push through the crowd and still cackling like a madman. Tim doesn't get a good look at him, what with the boy running so fast he almost trips, but he does notice the messy black hair and the large, knitted blue sweater that looks too big on the boy's body.

"Daniel Jackson Fenton, come back this instant!" Mr. Masters calls again, his thunderous steps louder than all the yelling around them.

The boy doesn't even deign him with a look over his shoulder. Instead, he darts towards the nearest window, opens it with what seems to be practiced ease, and climbs on the windowsill. Only then does he look back to the chaos he created in the room full of respectable guests, and grins.

Tim blinks. He's never seen anyone smile like this, all teeth and mischief, and cheeky excitement.

"What, too old to catch me, Vlad?" He sticks his tongue at Mr. Masters, and just for a moment, Tim is scared the man is going to lunge at him. Yet, right as Mr. Masters gets close enough, the boy pushes off and jumps out the window, his laughter echoing through the night.

Mr. Masters looks like he is about to follow - and Tim is, for once, curious to see if he would - but stops himself short, only leaning out the window.

"Don't bother coming back, you little badger, you are grounded!" The man yells. The only response he gets is another fit of distant cackling from the gardens.

"That is sure a way to entertain the crowd," Father says quietly, and the tall, dark-skinned woman he's been talking to before the whole mess happened snorts a short laugh.

Tim looks back to the few people who are still sporting elephant trunks for their noses.

It's the first time he thinks a party full of adults in stuffy robes can be more fun than he expected.

—☆—☆—☆—

Some visuals for v i b e s

The room where the scene took place:

Tim's drawing after he was back home from the party (house elves helped):

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

I have the vaguest possible idea of where I'm going, but this is definitely going to be a multichapter thing.

A few notes I've got pinned down so far:

Drakes are a mostly pureblood family, not filthy rich and straight up focused on the whole purity thing, but keeping their reputation clean and nice, and their income stable. Both Jack and Janet have attended Hogwarts, and they were both Ravenclaws while they were at it. Janet might have some relation to Blacks, but it's so distant that she doesn't bother keeping it in mind.

Vladimir Masters is, technically, a pureblood wizard, but his family has been in England for only two or so generations. His grandma (who is still very much alive) came from Russia after falling madly in love with Vlad's grandpa (who is now deceased and, as the rumor goes, his wife had a hand in it). He also attended Hogwarts and has been a Ravenclaw in the same year as Madeline Fenton nee Walker. Hence, Daniel Fenton is his godson and, unofficially, as of right now, heir to Masters family.

[part 2 ->]

[vonlycaonwife]

May I ask if you could write a Lycaon x AMAB Reader whereas the reader was patiently waiting for Lycaon to return while helping the proxy and suddenly gets kidnapped by the ethereals?

This was an interesting idea! Though I do apologize that I didn’t stick with the ethereal part of this! I hope you enjoy it either way!

Warnings: kidnapping

Oh, I don't think anyone has seen him lose his composer any worse than this moment.

It was just any other day, and he was returning home from work. He expected to be greeted by the sight of his partner on the couch doing his daily activities. But instead all he could see was an empty home.

He didn't think much of it, besides it being odd. But it was only once he sensed an odd smell that he realized what could've happened.

He searched the area frantically, searching for any clues he could find about what took place. That's when he would find a note from the kidnappers, some petty gang members from the fake Mockingbird that wanted revenge.

Oh he was pissed, he's immediately sending a message to Phaethon asking for assistance. While he would rather rush in, he knew it would be better to have a proxy just in case.

Once the quick preparations are met nothing is stopping him from rescuing his partner.

He doesn't hold anything back while fighting, most likely scaring the proxy siblings. But they don't blame him since they understand his anger.

Once they find him, Lycaon is quick to dispatch anyone in his way. His fighting is much less refined and more like a wild animal as he tries to get to his partner's side. He would be close to killing some of them if he noticed his s/o being badly injured, nothing could really stop his wrath then.

But once he's successfully saved his partner, he immediately brings him to urgent care. Once his partner is in proper hands, he's giving a quick call to the other members of Victoria Housekeeping, giving them a quick explanation for him not being able to work for the next few days.

He's not gonna leave his side for awhile after this incident, and definitely will take extra measure to ensure anyone he slights in the future won't use his partner as a way to get revenge on him.

[constantlybrainrotting]

i lied, put your clothes back on. i'm going to keep talking about the dance studio au (side note, currently writing this as i am at the studio i teach at lmao)

on today's episode of brainrot, i tell you about the different specialties of the characters i chose to teach and why i chose them, as well as some random facts about them as teachers!

Silco Lane-Shimmerson (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Ballet/Pointe | Contemp

Silco mainly teaches ballet, pointe and contemp to both the full time comp kids and the part-time comp kids. I chose ballet/pointe for him because he is seen in canon as an overall precise and focused person, with little room for error, which are qualities usually seen within those styles. While he loves a good classic ballet routine, i think his specialties would lie within contemporary ballet, a style i see as more Zaun fitting. he would've learned the vaganova method growing up, a method known to use and value flexibility, strength and endurance, a method i believe that holds values that are pretty in line to Zaun in the show. due to his proficiency in contemporary ballet, i think it would bleed into him really enjoying contemporary/modern as a style. he would definitely be a harder and tougher teacher overall but the kids, especially the younger ones, love his upfront personality and makes him one of the more favoured teachers at the studio. He makes a lot of the kids enjoy ballet despite it being not well liked for many kids which is a FEAT. Silco is known for his intense choreography and it pays off since they are usually winning pieces (in contemp because anyone who judges a ballet dance judges so dumb no matter which way you go). He grew up with Vander at a small local studio and ended up joining and teaching at the Greater Piltover Ballet Company (GPBC) for a couple years before opening up a studio.

Vander Lane (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Lyrical | Acro | Open

Vander doesn't actually teach all that much in comparison to many of the teachers since he also runs a cafe part time that is attached to the studio but is an overall favourite among the full-time competitive dancers. I chose for him to teach lyrical, acro and open because acro and open can be very powerful movement wise, which we see in Vander in the riots on the bridge and makes a lot of sense in that front, i decided to however also have him teach lyrical to bring out his softer side, which we see in the show when interacting with the kids. He teaches lyrical and acro to all of them but teaches open to the senior and inter teams. he's the type of teacher that brings in goodie bags for each holiday season and will tell the most insane stories during class time at random of him, Silco and Benzo over the years (ex. "fun story about spotting, when I was in the Piltover Ballet with Silco we learned from this woman who used to throw chalkboard erasers at us if we didn't spot our turns lol" "WDYM CHALKBOARD ERASERS???" "anyways back to your turns-"). He creates the most visually moving pieces ever and you wouldn't expect such softness and fluidity from that large of a man but by god does he do it well. oh and his acro routines?? SO visually stunning. this man has an eye for creating the most stunning pieces in all of his routines and they are consistently getting special awards for artistry at competitions. He also joined the GPBC for a brief stint with Silco before going to open up a small cafe on which Zaun Dance Movement was built upon.

Sevika Vann (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Hip Hop | Acro | Open

Sevika is the one woman army of ZDM and Silco's right hand woman. She's the one picking out costumes (only Babette is aloud to help she does not trust those men), unpacking costumes, bedazzling, the whole works (dw she is compensated GOOD). I have her specialty as hip hop because she is a notably strong fighter and with the way she moves when fighting, she moves fluidly and sharp which are common notables in hip hop. She teaches the whole slew of comp kids hip hop and does tech classes with them. Her hip hop style is heavily mixed with Zaun break dance/street dance and allowed for the studio to become known for their unique style. She also teaches the part time kids acro since Vander is busy with the cafe and does some of the open small groups for the full comp kids. Her general stylization with her dances is heavy hitting and focuses on strength. She is a tough teacher but she does have her moments of roasting the shit out of her students to their delight. she loves a good banter and to be able to do that with her students will always be meaningful to her. She actually met Silco and Vander during a convention before they opened the studio, with her attending both their classes (Vander jazz and Silco contemp) and they took notice of her technique. Silco asked her to join the team the year they opened and with nothing else lined up for her at the time she agreed.

Babette Furlan (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Jazz | Musical Theatre

I couldn't resist not putting Babette in this au she would be a riot omg. Babette teaches jazz and musical theatre because this woman would THRIVE in it. she owns a brothel in the show okay she would just love the theatrics of the two styles and would definitely go towards a more fosse style of jazz. she's been around a hot minute so she's very well known in the dance world and has won many awards for her choreo so it was down to pure luck that Silco ran into his old dance teacher whose home studio was closing and she was looking for a new studio to teach at. she creates choreo made to entertain the masses so it's very theatrical, loud and with the funnest costumes ever. she's also pretty well liked in classes and teaches all levels and ages.

Smeech Citrano (ZDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Tap

I LOVE ADDING THIS FUCKASS INTO RANDOM AU'S OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT!!! Smeech is the tap teacher because no.1 the way h moves in fights is great for tap and no.2 he has cybernetics in the show and metal meets metal shoes yknow!! this man is my favourite to figure out because he has beef with SO MANY of the kids, even the ones he has do solos/duos/trios and the only reason hes still employed is because hes the only good tap teacher in Zaun. the kids hate him but his routines place good so its a win-loose situation for them all honestly. his style of tap is steampunk ambience music with complex and/or fast steps with weird timings.

Cassandra Kiramman (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Jazz | Lyrical | Open

i have Cassandra teaching jazz, lyrical and open for a few different reasons. the jazz style appeals to her more intense side that we see when she busts in cait's room with a gun. she tends to lean towards the jazz-funk style more and her choreo is upbeat and fast moving. her lyrical becomes the opposite of that in fact and tunes into her softer side that we see when she talks to Caitlyn or Tobias. she uses traditional lyrical with it's softer and flowy lines of the body creating almost constant movement that draws in the audience. her style of open brings the two together which i think is important for her character. there tends to be sharper movements within but still allows for the flowiness to come through. her teaching methods can get intense at times but overall shes a good teacher and she's the kind to always have you do it full out with the music. she took over the studio after Heimerdinger's decision to step down and retire (for the most part lol) and has improved certain areas of the company since. before she had taken over, she was both a student and a teacher and had graduated from the GPBC's teaching program for lyrical and jazz. she's pretty hands on with her studio so she teaches both full time and part time competitive teams in her 3 preferred styles and is at the studio almost always. When she took over the studio, that's when a initial reach out to ZDM was made... she got one half in good faith at least!

Grayson Menea (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Hip Hop | Contemp | Acro

i couldn't NOT include miss Grayson so i have her in some of the more intense styles like hip hop, contemp and acro! she's got an overall pretty intense job in the show and i wanted to really bring that forward with the hip hop and acro, but show her somewhat softer side through with the contemp. her hip hop choreo is really sharp movements and lots of isolations, and her acro can be similar, with the placed movements and intensity. her contemp choreo is a lot more softer with the movements but still brings in that intensity through intentional and well placed moments of movement. she had actually grown up dancing at a smaller studio on the outskirts of New Piltover and close to Zaun so she learned hip hop very similarly to the Zaunite style of hip hop. she ended up doing a brief stint in the military and after a shot taken to her shoulder she was discharged. she decided not to return and was offered a job by then owner Heimerdinger to teach hip hop, since she was recommended by a mutual friend. she agreed and has thrived ever since. shes an overall pretty tough teacher when teaching but outside of that shes a wonderful person to be around and gives advice to the kids she teaches. she takes on more of the full time kids but does do some teaching with the older part-time kids.

Amara Saffioti (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Ballet/Pointe

Amara just looked like an older ballet teacher idk what you guys want from me, i went off pure vibes from her tbh. in any case, she is a true believer of classical ballet, plateau tutu's and all and is a no-nonsense but kind teacher. she uses the English (RAD - Royal Academy of Dance) method when teaching and she teaches the full scale of comp kids. she has a tendency to use music from different ballets and doesn't really branch out in that regard but her choreography is gorgeous. she also single-handedly puts on the nutcracker with her students every year and when Cassandra tries to help she shoos her out of the classroom. she was the first employee of the studio and she claims she will stay until she dies because she genuinely enjoys teaching so much.

Shoola Junot (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Tap | Musical Theatre

Shoola was also a very vibes based choice but i did think that a good musical theatre would help her be less cold in a way. for Shoola's tap style, it is a lot of quick tapping and lots of movement around the stage. she also has a habit of picking the shiniest of costumes for the kids which they love! i had a harder time finding a musical theatre style i liked for her but a classic simple musical theatre is where she is happy. her choreo still has those fast movements that she loves, just not as shiny costume wise and she loves to pick from older musicals. shes pretty well liked among staff and students but can seem quite cold due to her quiet demeanour outside the studio. she was originally a student at the studio and after graduating was asked to teach while she attended college to get her degree in engineering. she has another job outside the studio in a mechanical engineer position. she has also single-handedly upgraded the tap technique at the studio which is insane behaviour tbh.

Bonus! Cecil Heimerdinger (PDC)

STYLE INSPIRATION: Musical Theatre

thought fuck it, might as well add in the yordle! so Heimerdinger was actually a musical theatre geek and loved kooky theatre music so much he opened a studio mainly for that. he quickly learned he needed more variations of dance styles so in came Amara! tbh he had no clue wtf he was doing but they got an increasing number of wins with their routines so he said fuck it we ball ig. when he decided to give up the studio, he asked Cassandra and thankfully she said yes! while yes he was retired, he knew he needed SOMETHING to do so he took over managing the front desk (his multiple degrees came in handy) and does guest choreo work for Cassandra in his favourite style... musical theatre!

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 8

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Sylus myth mentioned, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1424

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Sylus enjoys a karaoke bar, especially if he's got access to you for a duet. You tease him but you'll always join him, hanging onto his arm and letting loose, and he sometimes falters over the words because he's too busy watching your face.

Still, this is good too. You've set up the game system that the doctor bought for his base, presenting it with a sigh. 'You won't know the right one.'

He'd been a little insulted, but he'd acquiesced, in the end the doctor knows gaming better than he does. It's never appealed to him, and he's never had real time to try. A sing-a-long game is loading up, yelling out 'let's sing' loudly from the speaker system.

You'd presented it to him with the doctor, beaming, "You'll like this one, I promise!"

The fish had groaned from the sofa, "Why do we all have to suffer the crow's crooning?"

As much as you've teased him for being out of tune, you've always encouraged him. He can't count how many times you've asked him to hum for you. Lay against his chest, and unable to sleep for nightmares.

The reason for the at-home karaoke session, are the cocktails that Luke has decided he wants to try making. Kieran is his primary test dummy, and if anything doesn't make him spit it straight back out. You're trying them.

It's ill advised… Sylus knows you're not a light weight, but he does know you and the twins can get competitive. It feels like it's only moments before you start doing shots together, and if that happens he's bound to get dragged in, and as quick healing as he is, he doesn't fancy driving anyone anywhere. Nor does he want to get into a taxi with someone he doesn't trust. Not with you and the twins.

He needs you safe.

He also blames you for Luke’s new hobby, you’d showed them some movies, made comments about how stylish a good bartender is, (He hadn’t filed that information away, to practice. At all.), and Luke had taken that as a challenge.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“Yeah! You can do it bro!”

You’d laughed and not thought anything of it. They’d gone out, and returned with… boxes.

Then raided his alcohol supply.

He’d dragged them both back by the scruff of the neck when they went for the very expensive top shelf. In no world were they mixing that with… was that moonshine? Where did they even get moonshine from?

He doesn’t see you drunk often, there are times you’re out in busy places because you feel you have to attend, and he’s seen you drink then to soften the anxiety and stress. You always call someone to be there then, drunk you is far more willing to rely on others. He also has seen you drink when you feel safe, has carried you on his arm more than once in those situations.

You apologise but there’s no need, especially when he gets to see the embarrassed but enamoured look on your face as he holds you in one arm. Your fingers drifting over the veins in his bicep, with a look he can only describe as hungry. He flexes a little more than he needs to on those occasions.

(There was one time you’d made a comment about beef clod, and he had truly not known how to respond.)

He can see you getting to that point now, you’re trying something green that you and Kieran are sipping from the same glass with separate straws. Luke is taking his turn at the microphone, singing something about what he wants for Christmas. Sylus is unsure if the radioactive green drink is good for either of you, but you don’t look sick, still. He’s wary, and flicks your forehead. As you put a hand to the targeted area, pulling away with an offended ‘Oi’, he grabs the glass and sips from your straw.

“Aww, Boss come on.”

It’s… not as bad as he expected, but he can’t imagine drinking it for fun.

Whether his taste buds are ‘broken’ like you’ve claimed before, and its somehow worse than he tastes, he still doesn’t feel good about putting it back in either your’s or Kieran’s hands. So he downs it.

Wrinkling his nose and pushing the glass away.

Before you can grab another concoction, now that Luke is back and shoving something else onto his brother, (He’s going to have to hide the key to the liquor cabinet he thinks, if this becomes a long standing hobby for them.), he pulls you over to the karaoke machine. “It’s our turn kitten, I’m owed a song for saving you from a terrible fate.”

Your tongue is out at him, but you stumble over grabbing his arm to steady yourself, and pick up the controller to find something you both know well enough to get through it with little effort.

His song repertoire has grown substantially since you’ve reentered his life, he feels confident that anything you sing to often he has memorised. Catalogued away to think about on nights you’re not here to sing for him.

When you’re satisfied, lining up a particular choice, you thrust the microphone into his hand, that’s not currently steadying you at the waist.

You look right at him when the song starts, familiar with some things enough to sing them blindfolded, and as tipsy as you are, with your voice wavering a little, he’s as starstruck as he always is.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you, ‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow, You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be, And I don’t want to go home right now.”

There’s moments in his life, where Sylus wonders if he blinks, will you disappear? A fragile illusion on a wishful soul. That someone, somewhere has truly seen into him and seen something worth adoring and loving. He thinks you are easy to love, there can be no doubt that you are worthy without the need to earn it.

“And all I can taste is this moment, And all I can breathe is your life.”

You have reminded him, again and again that you love him, that he does not need to pay for it, or gift for it. That everything that is offered is freely given, and wholehearted. That there is nothing to earn. It is not a transaction, no relationship should be. You do not keep score, and you would rather he did not either.

“And sooner or later it’s over, I just don’t want to miss you tonight.”

It still leaves him with the feeling that in seconds he could wake up, in a cold cave, surrounded by gems he no longer sees beauty in, in a world where he is nothing but broken horns and lost family.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand, When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

He loves you, he loves his life with you, and he is so scared-

Your hands move to his cheeks, his voice halts, wavering and pausing. Blinking at you. The microphone is out of your hands and you stretch up as tall as you can pressing a kiss to his eyelids. He almost drops his own, hand tightening on your waist. You sing just for him, lips at his cheek now, and his breath escapes in a long exhale, shaking.

You are his, you are his, you are his.

When his heart wavers, yours is there, keeping it beating, in time to a song only you can hear.

He is yours, he is yours, he is yours.

“I just want you to know who I am.”

He lifts you into his arms, and he sings with you, game forgotten because it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. If you are happy, he is happy, and he is so very happy with you in his arms.

If he wakes up tomorrow and you are not here, he will find you anywhere. He has done it before, and he will do it for the rest of time, because you are the one who sees him.

And later, when you are laughing and stumbling through his bedroom door, trying to pull away from the uncontrolled kisses he plants on your skin, tickling you and nipping, he will swear into your skin that he will always see you too.

Whoever you choose to be.

[jolapeno]

THE MASTERLIST

all of my writing is now on AO3, except drabbles, here. old works on tumblr on are found at the bottom of the page.

starring FRANCISCO MORALES

ONESHOTS

24 hours [frankie morales x british!reader] fluff

after a chance encounter on a train, two strangers forge an unexpected connection that lingers beyond their brief meeting.

festive encouragement *xmas fic | fluff

Frankie hates the holidays. Twigs, his roommate, doesn’t. When she gets injured, he steps in to help finish her Christmas errands—only to realise his crush on her might be something more.

SERIES

with no strings attached [pre tf] | smut, one night stand to lovers, feelings

stumbling into a diner in the dead of the night, frankie morales doesn't expect to find anyone there. then he meets you. what begins as a one-night-stand-turned-weekend becomes a no-strings-attached arrangement. CURRENT WIP.

JAVIER PEÑA

ONESHOTS

do you want me to hold you fluff, comfort

Javi offers comfort when you need it the most.

SERIES

bite me nicely vamp!javi, miniseries, colleagues to lovers, eventual smut

Javier Peña, a guilt-ridden vampire, struggles with the growing intimacy between him and Bones, the woman who willingly offers her blood to keep him alive.

let us pretend fake dating/marriage, sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers

Peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. But, when Steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. The only problem is that he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—and pretend to be her husband. CURRENT WIP

DRABBLES

touch me, move me

and JOEL MILLER

give me a sign bar!miller, flirting, pining

Joel Miller walks into a bar... and meets you, an ex-doctor now bartender who is adamant she won't fall in love with him.

it means something *xmas fic, soft smut, two people bad at feels

Compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing.

featuring LUCIEN DE LEON

fourth times the charm dislike to lovers, refusal to feel things, smut

when you turn up for your reservation, you don't expect him to be there. uninvited

<- back to navigation || to old masterlist ->

*my christmas fics from 2023

OLD FAVES:

late night texts [text fic! javi p x f!reader] COMPLETE do me yourself[diy!frankie m x f!reader] COMPLETE i'd look for you[din djarin x f!reader] ONESHOT in my room[javi p x f!reader *smut] ONESHOT

[buryeden]

Had they belittled everything, thrown it into a box and kept it satiated by wasting this passion for something that would end so suddenly? Wilder didn't seem to care, clouded by this desire that stronger than intoxication. The divinity his name was suppose to hold, that he denied with each utterance and resisted denouncing when others questioned just where he stood in the haunting of it all, was something he could finally feel when Theo spoke it.

"Yes," Will could hardly break a word out, pinned down by this ecstasy. His fingers tugged against Theo's crown and pulled apart every perfectly placed hair on his head to push him closer to the delicate skin of his neck. He wanted his kiss to bruise, to linger for the days in between where he knew he wouldn't have him this close again.

Tugging on the buckle of his belt, Wilder pulled it free with little consideration for each loop sewn along the waist band. He didn't have a single thread of focus to finish the job before he was pulling at Theo's shirt and then feverishly regretting it when it needed to break his kiss. Will pushed his hands past the fabric and down the curve of his back. He didn't know where to begin, where to linger, too hungry to make a decision.

He quickly pulled off his shirt, trying to remove anything that separated them further. There's a sobering moment when there's nothing between now and he can feel the rise and all of his chest against him. Any time Wilder has come clean like, it's far more impulsive and he never has to look anyone in the eye. Their backs are pressed against his chest where he can hide himself in the throes of passion, or there's no time or even intention to know the body he finds himself entangled with. He didn't have to look people in the eye when they were cramped in a bathroom stall or facing the bed frame of some ruddy little flat for just a night. Theo wasn't someone he would leave once the other turned the shower one to wash him away, or twisted up in sheets for morning to settle between them. There were parts of his life, beyond the rumors and tall tales fed to his kind and the one he hailed from, he didn't know how to explain.

For just a moment, he finds himself hesitating.

This isn't what he wants to share with him, doesn't to linger on and let him touch with curious caress over rippled skin. Wilder was suddenly aware of the way he even avoided looking at each scar, that after all these years he still had his stomach twist in knots at it. There was no where to go, no way to hide it as though Theo hadn't already committed them to memory and inquiry. He stood there, uncertainty pulling him down where his head hung between his shoulders. These weren't battle scars, as all the men in his line of work showed off proudly. Nothing had been gained from these. Not a lesson, not a balanced scale. They hadn't even been given vengeance.

The hunger is almost placid, no longer begging for satisfaction. He moves only to gently, slowly, pull Theo's hands where he can't reach the hollowed rings pressed into skin even after all these years.

"Sorry," He murmurs, but he doesn't pull away. The defiance he clung to, that he so badly wanted to feed against expectation and hesitation, runs cold. He doesn't want to slow down, doesn't want to pay mind to how everything is too slow now and numb. "I just need a moment to catch my breath."

he wondered if wilder could tell the way his body was reacting to all their kisses and touches, or how his pants were starting to grow slightly uncomfortable as he craved all of the younger man before him. it was certainly noticed by theodore who knew he'd have to take his pants off at some point, but for now he could be patient for a little longer. he didn't want to rush things between them because this wasn't just a one-night stand, it was more than that. though what that meant for certain, he didn't know. he didn't care to find out as he was just happy to have wilder in his apartment with him where they could be alone for the night before having to figure things out in the morning.

"good, now we can focus on more important things." he was more than ready to put aside the argument, concerns and anything else that might get in the way of what they wanted, though more importantly theodore was focused on what he wanted. and he was determined to get it before anything else happened to interrupt them. he felt the man's fingers on him and he smiled a little into the kiss that was far too addicting not to return to. the way wilder's lips felt against his made theodore want to never kiss anyone else again. of course that may never happen as he could very well pick someone else up for the night, but for now he only wanted wilder and no one else.

he smiled when feeling the tug on his lip and it was rewarded by pulling away from the kiss to move down to the man's neck, a hand tilting wilder's head back so he could press kisses to his neck. savoring the softness of his skin while his hand shifted from wilder's torso to instead begin palming him through his pants. "does that feel good?" he asked into the other's ear as a small smirk began to form on his lips. "do you want more?"

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Maybe I reading this wrong but this popped into my head on a reread: Does Leo like fighting his family not only to feel their ninpo but also because fighting is the only way he has had physical contact in the last five years? If it is that just makes every fight scene all the more angst filled, not that they needed help in that particular aspect. Thank you so much for writing an amazing story.

I'M

THIS IS DEVASTATING AND I LOVE IT

[britneyshakespeare]

I had a dream I was following my work crush's Goodreads account. I didn't FIND it in the dream—I was already following it. A fascinating concept because I probably follow less than 10 accounts on Goodreads so I remember following every one of them, and he had his full ass name on there for some reason. And he was showing up on my feed because he has been very active going through lists of interesting lists I would frankly not expect the average young white man from New Hampshire to be reading, and marking things "want to read"

[invinciblerodent]

(oh, i should not be trying to playfully weigh in on a "who's your LEAST favorite companion?" post, it starts off lighthearted and then it makes me go on my Fenris-rant again)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[sleeperagentclone]

I am too socially inept to deal with all the weird people my dad has collected over the years

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[poppyberry]

Everybody NEEDS to listen to the new Wild Life retrospective on Imp and Skizz's podcast. They got Grian called in and they give so many cool insights into the series (and honestly say so many things I think people need to hear)

Highlights for me:

Grian designed each wild card to be weaponized and wanted everyone to take advantage of them. He goes over each individually and all the thought he put into them and all the work the backend team put into their execution. He's rightfully really proud of them. Him gushing about Trivia Bot and how excited he was to show his friends the "coolest snail ever" is particularly sweet.

Skizz says discovering each wild card was a LOT of fun. He says something like "I can't believe as an adult I get to have so much fun." Impulse is really impressed with the execution of each, citing stuff like making it rain when the time one activated and the passive mobs spawning in before being replaced, and how the little details like that built excitement and tension.

Grian says how he understands that some viewers maybe just want more seasons of the essentially the same series, ie six seasons of just Third Life, but it's more important to him that the Lifers get to experience something new and fresh. He also doesn't like comparing each series, preferring to consider each one as its own thing.

Impulse can't wait to do another Life series, Skizz is equally excited but tries to hold discussion about it back since he doesn't want anyone pressuring Grian, who is palpably burned out. Like, you can hear how tired this man is. Grian says there will probably be more series since everyone is still enjoying it, but he's not trying to outdo himself and not to expect him to keep escalating.

Skizz always tries to do something new each season yet feels like he always falls back into the same habits and dynamics, but not this time: he feels like he got to explore a new dynamic with the Spanners and had a blast doing it. He and Grian gush about how much fun they had with their "big brother trying to keep his little brothers alive" routine.

They have a grand time making fun of Impulse and his "Sweats". Impulse is unabashedly still hungry to win a series.

Impulse didn't want to kill zombie Skizz, because of the five minute cooldown, but Skizz makes clear that he was really happy with being a zombie, even if there was a lot of doing nothing in between summons. He says it means a lot to him that he got to help with the burden of facilitating the series, even just a little bit.

Grian gives good insight into his personal life strategy: he does some things to deliberately test his relationship with other players. Standing in the Danger Zone was a trust exercise, testing Jimmy and Scar. Jimmy and Scar failed.

Despite Scar failing the trust exercise, Grian heard the disappointment in Scar's voice about the Snail Bot thing and immediately caved, but he's really happy that it led them to in-canon reconciling and becoming strong allies again.

Grian's favorite moment was making Jimmy pay for the failed trust exercise by blowing up the bunker, particularly pleased with his one liner of "it was always gonna be like this". He says Wild Life as a whole has been the most enjoyable series for him, even though he didn't get to have as much fun as the other players due to knowing all the wild cards.

All three of them gush over the scene of everybody failing to kill Joel as he teleports around, laughing about how it was straight out of a movie or an anime. Impulse feels like Joel took his superpower to a new level, but Grian reminds him the he didn't have an army chasing him around trying to kill him. They're all super impressed with how the finale turned out.

Some of the powers were assigned (Cleo, BigB, BDubs, Scar, Lizzie), some were random (Impulse, Martyn). Some were based on players' names, others on their personal narratives, but coming up with ~16 different powers without including any that would just be exploited for cheap instakills was really difficult, which is why there were so many espionage ones. Hilariously, Grian was hoping Scar would accidentally kill Jimmy by punching him off a cliff because of their ritual of trying punching in the earlier episodes. He also gave Scar that power because he knew Scar wouldn't feel bad about killing people with it.

Grian chose to give himself the mimic so he could show people how their powers worked if he needed to, and so that it wasn't given to somebody else who'd have to spend the whole session figuring out the mechanics of 15 separate superpowers and potentially dying because of it. And because he thinks its the coolest one and he wanted it (lol)

All around there's tons of fun details and stuff in this episode of the podcast and absolutely everybody should listen to it all the way through.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Sometimes I get an idea in my head and you'll hear 10 versions of the same thing, word for word, I swear (iykyk). I'm sorry. Just a little in coming fluff, angst and smuttt. We're giving him the ending he always deserved. This is a mess of my brain vomit.

Sergeant Barnes who can't help the crush he has on the sweet nurse stationed at his camp, always finding ways to talk to her, even if it means interrupting her in the middle of the way, wagging his finger around the tent because he has a dire papercut.

She'll patch him up every single time with a shake of her head, telling him to be more careful and he'll say yes mam, just to be back in the same cot the next day like clockwork.

Sergeant Barnes who walks her to her quarters every evening and bids her goodnight with a tip of his hat, always a gentleman. He never misses an opportunity to hold the door open, fetch extra supplies, grinning all while she tells him to get back to his work, worried he'll get in trouble for always helping her.

Sergeant Barnes who has a flirty little mouth on him, never missing a moment to tell her how lovely she looks. She dismisses everything he says, after all there's no way he could see her that way when she's sweating, covered in grime and blood aftering bandaging up different men.

Sergeant Barnes who wonders if she feel the same way when catches a tear roll down her cheek the first time she has to sew his injures. Her hands work quick and steadily keeping a straight face until the last dressing is placed across his abdomen. He's seen her do the same thing to plenty of others, sending them on their way right after but not him. She checked over him again and then once more, insisting he rest for an additional night before he was off again.

Sergeant Barnes who didn't realize it would get this far. He only intended to kiss her, he really did but the surprised little whine she let out was too much. How could he left her go when he hands clutched onto his uniform tighter, lips parted, letting his tongue lace with hers.

He made love to her that night.

Sergeant Barnes who took his time touching every bit of her body with softness, laying her in bed and covering her with the sheet when she shyly looked away. He didn't need much more than that, happy to feel her bare skin on his while he felt her lips flutter against his neck, he may as well have died and gone to heaven.

Sergeant Barnes who doesn't rush a thing while he pumps his cock, letting his swollen head rub though her slit while letting her know much he adores her. How perfect she already is. She whispers a please in his ear and he starts to push himself inside, his length already throbbing with need.

"I know angel, I know" He coos at the gasp she lets out, his hand coming up to caress her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. "S'just me doll, s'just me you're feeling"

He stretches her slowly, after all his sweet angel has never felt anyone else. Her face hides in his neck, panting as he fully sheaths himself, cuddling her body, rubbing her back.

"S-so big, Sergeant" is the best she can get out and he has to force himself to not cum on the spot. He starts to move, holding her tighter because he didn't expect to struggle this much.

"I love you" He rasps out, it's all he can say without running his mouth, spewing all the things that were in his head. He really can't take it. His mind is working faster than he can comprehend. There were a thousand sweet things but that wasn't the issue. He bit his tongue from confessing she caused all his wet dreams, making him feel like a teenager all over again. That her pussy was so tight, he was leaking in her. That it felt too good, he felt like a virgin too, his cock was so sensitive like never before, fuck, she had to unlock her ankles that were wrapped around his waist-

"M'close" He pants, eyes locked with hers hoping she understands- "M'gonna cum, I-fuck, i'm cu-mph" His eyes grow wide in surprise when she tugs his dog tags and pulls him down for a kiss, her legs still wrapped around him, every bit of his cum filling her up.

"I love you too" she nuzzles her nose with his, relaxing in his hold as they drift off to sleep.

He holds her extra tight that night.

There was a war happening and tomorrow wasn't always promised.

Especially not when he had an assignment the next day.

-

Sergeant Barnes who dragged himself through hell and back, limping half sewn up with that cute little blush on his face cause he can't wait to see her again after months of nearly dying, losing men, the only thing that kept him going was getting to see-

Where was she?

"Has anyone seen Nurse y/l/n?" He frowned when the other nurses shook their heads as he searched, his worry increasing when he finds her things gone. He nearly sends off a search party until a close friend of hers quietly gives him an address. She says very little, only sending him off with a wink and a good luck.

He's utterly baffled when he sees the address is that of his own? Surely there was a mistake. That doesn't mean he'll waste anytime. The war was over anyway, injuries be damned, he's moving as fast as he can.

He sets off home, knocking on the door, his can't wait to find her again and he's missed his family soo much-

"Jamie!!" His sister throws her arms around his neck and he stumbles back, hugging her tightly, "Mama, Jamie's home!!" He doesn't let go of her as his mother runs to him from the kitchen, tears already streaming down her face.

"Sweet boy" She takes his face in her hands, looking him up and down. Her baby boy is back in one piece and that's all that matters.

Well, sort of.

"I missed you ma-ow!"

"I raised you better, you worried those poor angels to bits"

Angels?

He isn't given a chance to ask anything when she gives him a wack with a rolled newspaper, ushering him to go to his room, slipping something into his pocket before sending him off.

Sergeant Barnes who can't believe his eyes when he sees her again. Her pretty face. Same perfect eyes. Perfect nose. Perfect lips. All of it turns blurry from unshed tears because the only thing that was different now was a very round baby bump.

"Y'came back" Her voice melts into a sob seeing him standing at the doorway.

"I missed ya" He whispers against her hairline, kissing her repeatedly, his hands cradling her rounded belly, his little baby kicking against his touch. "M'so sorry angel, wish I was here-

"You're here now" she sniffled, inhaling his scent after waiting for him to come back, not knowing if he was hurt or alive, the thought breaking her heart. "We waited"

"Daddy's here" He kisses her tummy, holding her extra close again after months of waiting. Dreaming. Hoping.

He asks her to marry him. His ma wouldn't give him her wedding ring for just anyone.

A baby boy. 2 years later, a little girl. She asks for a kitten. They name her Alpine. Another little boy 3 years later.

Perfect.