#fuck this i'm never writing again

[ashtonisvibing]

dancing with old friends

OKAY, third time's the charm with trying to post this! maybe tumblr's trying to tell me something-

ship: darkstache/damien x wilford (if not outright shown it's heavily implied. also obviously there's wilford x celine, but that's just canon so-)

notes: i originally wrote... a lot for this- i've now tried to post this twice before, so i'm not writing that all again. just be aware that this oneshot is a few years old and so it probably isn't good. i mean i think it's pretty alright, but maybe my taste is shit lol

don't expect me to write other oneshots after posting this, i haven't written stories since i wrote this, so they'd probably all be shit-

The Manor held several rooms that were unknown to many of the egos that lived there; each of them locked away for... reasons. They held old memories that did not want to be resurfaced. And no one questioned it. After all, the request of them never being opened came from both Wilford Warfstache & Darkiplier. Although it was more of an order than a request with Dark, who had pretty much threatened Yandere when he asked why.

There was one room in particular that was locked up. It was a gorgeous ballroom, one that looked like it had come out of a fairy tale. Many dances used to be held there back in the day with various friends. It was once filled with laughter & joy; now it only contained dust & cobwebs.

For whatever reason, Wilford had decided to open the room again. No one else was around to question why. He honestly didn't know himself. He had just been wandering around the manor when he came across the old oak doors. Both him & Dark held a skeleton key that could open any in the house, which The Host was gracious enough to make.

Wiford took his out from under his shirt; he had hung it on a piece of string so he would always have it with him. He took it off from around his neck, inserted it into the lock, & turned the key. A clicking sound echoed slightly down both ends of the hall. The interviewer glanced around to make sure no one else was around before entering the room.

It wasn't as grand as he remembered, but perhaps that was just because everything was covered in dust. There were windows across the opposite wall, which each had red silk curtains draped over them, blocking out any sunlight that could enter. Around the room were white marble columns connecting the ceiling to the floor. Off to the side was a piano, which clearly had not been used in forever.

Wilford walked across the floor, hearing his footsteps echo in the quiet room. Truly Mark, his old friend, had decided to splurge with this room, seeing as it was more castle like than the other rooms. And of course he always insisted his guests move to this room so they could dance at least once during the party.

The interviewer remembered many dances he shared with Celine. The lady could definitely dance, he knew that. Those were truly wonderful nights they shared together.

He hadn't noticed he was starting to cry until he felt a teardrop fall down his cheek. He quickly wiped the tears away & shook the memories from his head. No need for troubling himself with the past like that. Those were happy times. That's all they were. Happy times...

"So, you've finally decided to enter here." Wilford turned around to see the body behind the voice. Dark was standing a few feet away. How he got in so quietly wasn't that big of a concern; Dark always had a flair for mystery.

"Just wanted to relive some old memories, I guess." Wilford chuckled. The demon across from him hummed in response, conveying no emotion. While yes Dark had the memories of both Celine & Damien in him, he never bothered with being so sentimental about them, his focus always landing on taking control of the YouTube channel he was practically adored on.

"If I recall correctly, you & Celine shared many dances in this room." Dark walked closer to the other man.

Wilford nodded his head in response. "Yes, we did. I remember how much fun we had, being the most lively dancers in the whole room. Everyone would clear the floor just to watch us." He chuckled & gave a sad smile. These were memories he had not touched in a long time, & while it was nice to revisit them, it brought a pain in his heart to think of his lost love. And yet he knew, in some crazy & messed up way, she was right next to him, along with his best friend Damien, all wrapped together with some strange... entity in one of his old friend's body.

They were both silent for a bit, just basking in the feeling of being in a room they had both sworn they would never open. And neither man knew why they were even in there.

After some time Wilford saw Dark offer his hand from the corner of his eye. He gave the demon a confused look, questioning what he was suggesting. Dark merely scoffed but kept his hand where it was.

"Dance with me."

The interviewer was a bit taken back by what Dark had asked. He was always extremely reserved, keeping to himself with his emotions in every way possible. He never talked with anyone else, unless it was about something that person was doing. Even Wilford, whom he considered a close colleague, barely knew anything about what went on inside that mind of his. And yet here he was, asking Wilford to dance.

Of course he didn't refuse. Once he fully processed the situation, which took mere seconds to be processed, he took Dark's hand & let himself be led to the middle of the dance floor. This was going to be strange for him; he was always the one to lead the dance, but the demon automatically assumed the lead position & placed a hand on the other man's waist, Wilford placing his free hand on Dark's shoulder. A smirk flashed onto Dark's face, but the interviewer did not know why. That is, until he noticed his cheeks felt a bit hotter than usual, indicating he was blushing. He tried to push it away, but to no avail.

"I do believe that to dance you need music along with it." Wilford suggested a bit quietly. If he had to admit it he did feel a bit nervous about doing this. He didn't know if he would trip up, or if Dark would trip up, or if something happened that would cause this to become a wreck.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to guide you completely, since it seems you can't dance without the aid of something else." Dark chuckled, causing Wilford to merely roll his eyes at the joke.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to guide you completely, since it seems you can't dance without the aid of something else." Dark chuckled, causing Wilford to merely roll his eyes at the joke.

"Then let us dance, my friend." With that Dark started to slowly spin with Wilford, stepping in time to invisible music. It was definitely strange, being lead around the room instead of himself leading, & the demon was a bit slower than he was used to, but the interviewer eventually got the rhythm of the dance & stepped in perfect time. After a few moments Wilford started to notice the blue shadow behind Dark glow brighter, almost drowning out the red shadow. Wilford smiled at this, something Dark didn't see with his eyes closed.

'Hello, old friend.' Wilford thought to himself. Dark smiled, a genuine smile, & opened his eyes, which were now a dark brown instead of their usual black & red.

"Hello, William. It's been a while, hasn't it?" William let out a soft chuckle.

"Yes it has. Far too long in my opinion, old friend." Damien gave a small smile, one that held both joy at seeing his friend, & sadness at how they departed, & their current situation. One was trapped in an old friend's body with a demon & a vengeful spirit, the other had slowly but surely lost his mind. This was not how the two men thought they would end up.

The both of them continued to spin in a small circle, William's head resting against Damien's chest. Neither cared if this seemed strange. Or, perhaps, even scandalous. They just needed to feel the comforting warmth of a friend. And it seemed a dance had been needed as well.

[sunnymainecoonx]

How many people witnessed softie food addict horror who needed something in his mouth or he would actively kill and turn to cannibalism 🧍‍♀️ or was that just me.... anyways honestly it was silly.. he'd maybe get along with cook horror... I just like fanon crossovers guys*sadge

Anyways canon horror is also silly(really silly. What an asshole, man)(no seriously he's actually such an asshole.. I might love him for that but-) I don't think he would get along with the others(loser)

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's word count: 2.1K

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[jays-bookmarks]

There was only one bed, but... (Dan Heng x gn!reader)

It's basically this picture. You're both nerds who don't know how to flirt and continually dance around your feelings.

Summary: March tries her best to set you up with the man you've been pining after since you first joined the Express, but her best-laid plans are foiled because both you and Dan Heng are socially incompetent. Words: 2.5k Warnings: secondhand embarrassment, awkward pining, reader is "short" (tiptoes to reach the top shelf lol), reader has some skimpy nightclothes

It had been a long day for you, March, and Dan Heng. After what happened during your mission, all you wanted was to flop down on a bed and sleep. As your group made its way to the inn, a very sheepish receptionist came to greet you. He apologized and explained that there were only two rooms left available.

“Oh, that's okay,” you said, glancing over at your teammates with a shrug. “I can share with March.”

March, however, quickly declined.

“No, uh—you should go with Dan Heng!” she said.

Your eyes widened at her words. “What? Why?”

You couldn’t hide the small blush on your face as you glanced over at Dan Heng. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice your nervousness, having been equally surprised by March’s sudden proposition. He tilted his head, waiting for March to explain.

“Well…” March looked a little nervous under Dan Heng’s scrutiny. She gave you a meaningful look. “Since you’re so new to this, wouldn't it be safest to stay with Dan Heng? Don’t forget he’s the guard of the Astral Express! Besides, I, uh… snore pretty loud!”

She ended her sentence with an awkward giggle. You narrowed your eyes at her. You knew March was only taking this opportunity to set you up with Dan Heng, but you tried to play it cool and let him have the final say. There was no way he'd agree… right?

“...I suppose that makes sense,” Dan Heng said, turning to you. “Are you alright with that?”

“Huh? Uh—yeah!” You froze up under his gaze, then quickly glanced away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your face was so hot that you were sure Dan Heng didn’t miss your blush this time. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily… but then again, why would he refuse? Despite the shiftiness of her delivery, March did make a sound argument. And Dan Heng clearly didn’t have any feelings he needed to keep hidden…

From the corner of your eye, you saw March pumping her first in victory before quickly hiding her hands behind her back. She bit her lip to suppress a grin. You shot her a glare, but she only giggled in response before ushering you all down the hall.

Once you saw the room you were staying in, your heart dropped. Of course, there was only one bed.

Dan Heng seemed completely unfazed, immediately moving to set his stuff down on the floor.

“You can have the bed,” he said, glancing back to where you stood frozen in the doorway. His gaze lingered on you for a moment. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but then he turned away and began taking off his coat.

You tentatively stepped into the room.

“A-are you sure? I… think there's enough room on the bed for both of us…” you said, but you could already feel yourself combusting at the thought of sharing a bed with Dan Heng. Sure, the bed was technically big enough for two people, but just barely. Trying to share this bed would definitely result in you two being squished uncomfortably close together.

You glanced over at Dan Heng, who shook his head and set his coat on the floor as a makeshift bedroll.

“I’ll be more comfortable on the floor," he said. Then, after a pause, he added in a quieter voice. "It would be best to keep a distance…"

Your face fell at his subtle rejection. Or, maybe you were just reading too much into it. He was probably just used to sleeping on the floor like he did in the archives. Or maybe he saw your awkwardness around him as you being uncomfortable with his presence. Or perhaps he just meant it would be easier for him to jump into action if the two of you weren’t tangled up together in bed. Oh gods, why did you word it like that? You shook the thought from your head and took a deep breath.

“Right, well… do you want an extra pillow or anything? A blanket?” You gestured to the bed.

Dan Heng shook his head again. “Don’t worry about me,” he said.

You sighed and turned to the closet anyway to look for an extra blanket. You had to stand on your toes to take it from the top shelf, but you managed without having to grab a stool. With that small victory spurring you on, you held the blanket out to him. But Dan Heng shook his head once more.

“You should take it,” he said. “It’ll be cold tonight.”

“And what are you gonna do? Just freeze?” you retorted.

He chuckled. “I’m used to sleeping in all sorts of conditions. I’ll be fine.”

He seemed adamant about letting you take the extra blanket. Unfortunately for Dan Heng, you also knew how to be stubborn. You frowned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Come on… Just take it,” you said.

Dan Heng didn’t budge. You huffed, pouting a little.

“Please?”

He simply raised an eyebrow in response. You pursed your lips, trying to find another angle.

“Okay… how about this? If I get too cold tonight I’ll come and steal it from you. Deal?”

After a pause, he sighed and took the blanket. You grinned as you watched him lay the blanket down next to him. Grabbing your bag, you went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

By the time you returned, Dan Heng was settled on the floor. He had Cloud-Piercer in his lap and was polishing the tip of the spear. You gestured to the bathroom as you passed.

“It’s all yours,” you said.

He looked up and you noticed his gaze briefly flick over your body. You blushed as you realized how little your sleepwear actually covered. Dan Heng quickly looked away, placing Cloud-Piercer against the wall as he stood.

“Thank you,” he said. He paused when you didn’t move from where you stood. “…You don’t have to wait for me. Rest.”

“Right… um, goodnight!”

“Goodnight.”

Despite the way your heart still hammered in your chest, you fell asleep surprisingly quickly. But not long after, you awoke to the sound of movement from the floor beside your bed.

As you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you heard Dan Heng mumbling something in his sleep. Concerned, you leaned over the bed to check on him. His brows were furrowed, and he was covered in a cold sweat while he tossed and turned. Was he having a nightmare? You stared at him for a moment longer, pondering whether you should try to wake him up. He was always such a private person… would he appreciate you butting into his personal life like this?

Still, you thought it would be best not to leave him to suffer. Sliding out from under the covers, you crouched down next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. You called his name, trying to gently wake him up.

“Dan Heng…”

In a flash, you were pinned to the floor, your wrist held at a painful angle behind your back while Dan Heng’s other hand gripped the back of your neck. You sucked in a breath, too shocked to even say anything. A beat passed.

You heard Dan Heng quietly say your name in a surprised voice. He seemed to realize what had happened and quickly released you. His hands hovered uncertainly around you as you pushed yourself back into a sitting position with a groan.

“A-are you alright?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I know,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I was just—”

You shrugged and rubbed at your wrist to ease the pain. A look of guilt flashed over Dan Heng’s face.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I should be asking you that. Are you okay? Were… you having a nightmare?"

Dan Heng opened his mouth to reply, before closing it again. He seemed hesitant to say anything. You could tell he was still shaken up by his nightmare, whatever it was. Eventually, he let out a sigh.

“...No. It’s fine. Forget it happened,” he said.

You paused for a moment, biting your lip. If he didn’t want to talk, then you couldn’t exactly force him to open up. You nodded.

“As long as you're feeling okay…” You began to stand, but paused halfway to look back at him. “Um, but if you want to stay up and chat about other stuff… just as a distraction… I wouldn't mind.”

Though you were making the offer for him, part of you secretly wanted this late-night conversation. It was a way to get to know him better. As a friend, of course. You looked at Dan Heng, hoping he would accept.

“...I suppose I wouldn't mind a distraction at the moment.”

You let out a small sigh of relief. Flashing a smile, you returned to sit down beside him on the floor. After a brief pause, you realized that Dan Heng had expected you to start the conversation.

"Um. Okay, well…" you floundered for something to say. You were never good at holding a conversation, and the fact that Dan Heng was sitting so close to you wasn’t helping you in the slightest. You tried to tell yourself not to think about it—he had already rejected you, anyway, you could take a hint—but your body was reacting on its own. You hoped that he didn’t notice the flush on your cheeks in the dark room.

Dan Heng remained silent for a while longer, waiting for you to finish your thought, but when it became clear you had nothing to say, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“It seems we’re both quite bad at conversation, aren’t we?” he said.

You laughed as well, feeling a bit of the tension between you dissipating.

"Yeah… I guess I should've thought of that when I offered…"

The two of you fell into silence once more. Since you were so preoccupied with searching for a topic of conversation, you were unaware of how Dan Heng was struggling not to stare at you in your sleepwear. The chill in the room seeped into your exposed skin, and you shivered slightly, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“Here.”

Before you could react, Dan Heng had leaned over you. You froze, your mind going completely blank as you felt his breath fanning over your cheek. His arms trapped you on both sides and you tried not to move lest you accidentally touched him. Your eyes flicked down to his lips…

But then Dan Heng pulled back, and you felt something being draped over your shoulders. He had grabbed the spare blanket from behind you and was now wrapping it around you. His hands, no longer covered by his gloves, grazed your bare skin as he did so, leaving a pleasant tingling in their wake. When you finally managed to snap out of your shock, you reached up to secure the blanket with your own hands, and Dan Heng retreated into his space once again.

You thanked him quietly, hoping your voice didn’t shake too much. He nodded in response before glancing away with a cough. If you weren’t panicking so hard over what had just happened, you would’ve laughed and called him cute.

But you were panicking, and right now teasing him was the last thing on your mind. You tried desperately to think of something, anything, to change the topic and move away from this tension between you two.

You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“Uh... what's your favorite animal?”

You blushed immediately after the words left your mouth.

“Um. Sorry, that was kind of a stupid question…” you said. “I'm... not very good at... talking."

Dan Heng chuckled. You let out a relieved laugh as well, glad that you hadn’t made things more awkward, at least.

“The white tiger,” he said. “They’re quite striking, and very elusive... To the people of the Xianzhou, it is known as the Guardian of the West, representing the season of autumn.”

You nodded as he spoke, trying to indicate that you were paying attention to his words and not the way his lips were currently curled into a smile. He turned his gaze to you and you quickly looked away.

“What about you?” he asked.

You blinked, pleasantly surprised that he was willing to continue the conversation. Glancing up at the ceiling with a hum, you thought about your answer.

"I like dragons,” you said. “Oh, actually—aren’t the Vidyadhara, like, dragon people? Can they turn into dragons?”

“Only some could turn into dragons. The power was a rare inheritance, passed down only to those who could successfully complete numerous rites and challenges.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Dan Heng began to explain. You nodded along, your fatigue beginning to catch up to you as you listened to his soothing voice. After a moment, you yawned and leaned against him with a sigh. Your tired brain had pushed the memory of your awkwardness from just moments ago to the back of your mind. You didn't notice the way Dan Heng stiffened at your touch, nor the way his breath hitched as he stopped mid-sentence.

A moment of silence passed, then your eyes flew open as you realized what you had just done. You quickly withdrew, stammering apologies.

"I'm so sorry! I don’t know what— I'm sorry!" Your face was flushed and you couldn’t meet Dan Heng’s gaze.

"No… it's fine.” Dan Heng’s voice was quiet and seemed to waver slightly. He took a breath before clearing his throat. "Don't worry about it…"

You took a breath as well, willing your heart to calm down. "Right, um..."

You glanced down at the floor as you fidgeted with your hands. That tension was back again. You were acutely aware of how close you came to touching each other every time one of you shifted on the bedroll. The silence stretched on as you once again wracked your brain for something to say.

“It’s getting a bit late…” you finally said. “Should we go to bed?”

You weren’t trying to drop any hints, per se, but you didn’t think your heart could handle any more accidents tonight.

“Yes... let’s try to be well-rested for tomorrow,” Dan Heng said.

He stood and offered you his hand. You paused, a little surprised, before you flashed a nervous smile and took it. You couldn't help but stare at the way his muscles flexed in his arm… You quickly shook the thoughts out of your mind and handed the spare blanket back to Dan Heng. You sat down on the bed, leaving him to settle back on the floor.

“Goodnight, Dan Heng,” you said. “And... thanks for chatting with me.”

“Goodnight. And—” Dan Heng paused for a moment, seemingly debating something in his mind. After a moment, he continued with a faint smile. “It was... nice to talk to you as well.”

[sandinmybed]

god 'basically i'm gay' destroys me for all the obvious reasons but i'm thinking specifically about the phrasing "and obviously, we were more than friends" and basically not elaborating past that. dan simply said, obviously. like; you knew. we knew you knew. we hid it and you still knew and you made it very clear. and it was in a scary intense invasive way, especially for a guy who was deeply closeted, but i'm also thinking about how he's said since then that without the community of fans that had formed from this, he might never have had the courage to come out and would still to this day probably be a miserable straight lawyer. except for how obviously they were together. and i'm just wondering how that must feel for him. if they hadn't been so obvious people might not have figured it out, but without this terrifying state of being perceived he might never have been able to be his true self.

im giving myself a migraine

[whoslaurapalmer]

struck by an idea i refuse to commit to bc I firmly believe bea and bertrand did not know lemony was alive and i do not need to deal with this revelation at 11:53 at night but you know. what would make. an amount of sense. if they DID know. if they were in contact with him while he was on the run. all that time. if the things lemony writes about the kids and bea and bertrand in the books, the memories the kids have of their parents before the fire, were things he knew because bea and bertrand told him

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

For $5 USD stop making everything about that goddamn show for five minutes.

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[deservedgrace]

i appreciate the curiosity and desire to understand when people ask me what growing up religious/in a cult was like, how religion and religious trauma impacts me, why i'm so against christianity, but i kind of dread those questions now because it's so... impossible to explain it properly. i don't know how to explain to people that don't have that experience that it's everything and it's a million little things.

[firenati0n]

wip wednesday <3 :)

hello friends :) happy wednesday, hope you are well! happiest of birthdays to my babygirl Alex Claremont-Diaz, love you endlessly my beautiful big brained bisexual disaster with a heart of gold

thank you to @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls @bigassbowlingballhead @leojfitz @ships-to-sail @suseagull04 @dragonflylady77 @kiwiana-writes @onthewaytosomewhere @wordsofhoneydew @priincebutt @magicandarchery @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie @duchessdepolignaca03 @saturntheday @itsmaybitheway @captainjunglegym @indestructibleheart @oxfordslutphase @tailsbeth-writes for the tags this week and on sunday :)

here's a snip from a tiny spy au coming this week if i can wrangle these men into submission:

“I'm serious, Alex. No theatrics. Certainly no blood. What's the code for trouble?” “Barracuda.” Henry clicks his tongue. “Too many syllables for my taste.” “Your name is too many syllables for my taste, yet you don't see me complaining.” “Touché.” He grasps Alex's shoulder, taking a long look into Alex's eyes. Henry's body is serene, but his eyes are always his tell for Alex. They're cloudy, tense; murky waters. “Be careful, please. We both know how dangerous these men are. Manu is unpredictable, even as the mafia equivalent of a middle manager.” “Aw, worried about me, sweetheart?” Alex grins, but it's a little unsteady, faltering at the edges. “Henry. This is easy. And if I’m lucky, no dicks will have to come out.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. He really, really doesn’t want any dicks out this time. “See you in five, okay?” He squeezes Henry's arm, then slips out of the supply closet. Back to work.

xoxo roop

+ no pressure tags below the cut and open tag as always <3 tag me if you use :)

@ninzied @cha-melodius @sparklepocalypse @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @getmehighonmagic @myheartalivewrites @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes @inexplicablymine @onward--upward @celeritas2997 @affectionatelyrs @14carrotghoul @rmd-writes @cultofsappho @anchoredarchangel @candyspandemonium @porcelainmortal @kj-bee @nontoxic-writes

[astrolotte]

Genuinely intrigued by the potential of Peri and Irep's dynamic but only in a platonic way so I end up not vibing with the fandom's portrayal of it 😔😔😔

(No but listen LISTEN they were kinda-almost-friends when we last saw them in FOP, yeah? Now they're enemies, with both actively fighting each other, and Irep going so far as to try and kill Peri's parents. What happened? When? What influenced it? Did they ever become friends, or did it nosedive the moment the cameras turned off? What about Sammy? How do Irep's parents factor into this? Could it ever be fixed? There's just so much we haven't seen, and romance just feels like too easy a solution to me. Let their friendship be easy to break, fragile. Let them have to work to keep the connection. Fairies and Anti-Fairies are literally made to be opposites, so what happens when two genuinely and truly become friends?)

((and yeah I guess a lot of this could factor into a romantic angle but ALAS the fandom seems to be leaning heavily into the funny toxic yaoi angle 😔 I don't mind it! By all means, please have your very harmless fun! But it ain't my jam :P Perhaps I'll have to write a oneshot myself...))

(((see tags for more rambles i guess. whoops a bitch spoke too much in there as he always does)))

[jessamine-rose]

*lovingly tackles Aine*

Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽｀)

Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—

*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3

[sparrowmoth]

➳ Some self-indulgent visual storytelling ft. 13 y/o Wylan and 14 y/o Jesper in a vague daydream modern AU where Wylan ends up under Colm's guardianship after escaping his abusive father. Jesper is none too impressed with this sheltered city kid who keeps trying to sneak potentially dangerous wildlife into the house. He is ESPECIALLY not impressed that Wylan is trying to convince him that is a "stray cat."

[starheirxero]

Can I see a better ref of Servant Sun? Or some sketches of him?

(no reason at all, just wanna see the lil guy better)

YES OFC !!!! I ONLY HAVE SKETCHES RN SO HERE'S SOME STUFF I'VE THROWN AROUND 🙏🙏🙏

Tbh I feel like his outfit is subject to change at any moment BUT these 4 details are FOR SURE always gunna be there.

Did you know everytime he truly doubts his lord, he adds something eclipse themed to his body? Just thought I'd mention it......

[memento-morri-writes]

More dnd writing because it's all I have but I here's a snippet from a vignette I did of Rook's past (from Zara's POV), because Rook and his mentors never fails to make me sick (/pos).

[transcript under the cut]

Taking a coin out of her pocket, she rolled it across her knuckles, back and forth. It gave her hands something to do, and prevented the urge to bite her nails, something she hadn’t done in years. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Zara began to pace as Rook’s breathing grew shakier and the color drained from his skin. Where the hells is Jay? she wondered. The room was so quiet that she could hear every tick of the small clock on her bedside table, and each one echoed in her head. How many ticks does he have left? She didn’t want to think about it.  She’d had crew members die before, of course. You don’t go as many years as a captain as she had and never lose a soul. But all the others who had died had died quickly, in combat. She’d mourned for all of them, even shed tears in private, but there was something different about watching the life drain out of a person right in front of your eyes.