#haven't written fanfics in a while

[whatswrong7]

Part 2 Part 3 Ghost didn't think much of you at first. You were just the incapable rookie to him. Constantly getting lost and needing backup on missions. He was actually annoyed at you and your incompetence, trying to stay as far out of your way as possible. But without fail, on almost every mission, your voice would pop into his ear calling for help as you inevitably fucked up, or bit off more than you could chew, or got yourself injured. He didn't even understand how you made it onto the task force, and he told Soap as much, which would usually just get a laugh and not much of a real response. He'd avoid your attempts at chit chat and small talk, barking orders at you to go do something else, unless you were at base, where he settled for just ignoring you until you furrowed your brow and went off.

And then you saved Johnny. His earpiece had gotten destroyed a few minutes earlier, the last thing he was able to say a vague description of his location. Price, Gaz, and Ghost were all preoccupied with their own fights. Ghosts mind seized up as his body continued the motions, aiming and shooting with deadly accuracy. He was gone. Soap was as good as gone, and just like his family, he wouldn't be able to save him. He couldn't breathe, all the gear too heavy on his body as his lungs threatened to collapse. Dead. Dead, dead, dead, all because of him, him, h-

"I got him"

Your voice rasped through the tiny machine, sounding out of breath and unsteady. You didn't respond to anything else, the rest of them hurrying to finish up and head to the chopper, Ghost silently hoping, praying. And there Johnny was, huffing and breathing heavily as a medic took care of him, quickly confirming to the newly arrived team he would be just fine. Ghost breathed a sigh of relief, just to turn to you and get the breath knocked out of him again. You were also getting quickly helped, blood coating you as the medic worked to remove the bullets from all areas of your body you had been hit in. Your usually bright eyes were heavy lidded, as you lazily looked around, barely glancing at Simon. Your shoulder had to get put back into place after popping it out of its socket- and by god, you were a proper mess, thick blood all over your skin and blending in with your uniform, your arm hanging limp by your side as it was held and shoved back into place, and barely able to keep your eyes open.

Ghost had never seen anything more beautiful.

[athousandbyeol]

st(r)ay.

he dreamed of warm hugs. tender caresses on the crown of his hair. tidying the messy curls of his bangs behind reddening ears. and he would giggle. he would blush. he would have tears in his eyes. all good things. everything wonderful.

he dreamed of a pair of piercing eyes. that gaze was never directed at someone else but him. and he would replay that scenario every night, each scene was an animation against the emptiness of the ceiling—before he could remember how lonely his nights were before he came. because he was alive when those eyes were on him—he felt so seen.

and that infamous cold smile. he saw it through the haze in his vision and the daze in his mind. and he couldn't remember anything else but that smirk, the smugness of it all.

the roughness of his palms against the softness of his own. they flutter like broken butterfly wings. but still so mesmerising. when their fingers intertwined, he saw a splash of colour, in all shades of black and blue and grey and him.

sheng wang dreamed of jiang tian.

he saw jiang tian in the recesses of his imagination. there were tears in his eyes. they fell. and fell. but jiang tian was still quiet—why was he so silent?

and sheng wang tried reaching out. but the distance between them grew the more he crossed the forbidden line. jiang tian was untouchable. elusive. like the nightmare he had as a child. like the memories of his father's fading warmth on his skin, the conversations between them, tiki-taka. and by then, sheng wang realised, everything was in vain.

so he opens his eyes.

he opens his eyes and sees a shadow of light against jiang tian's face. his features gradually soften as the moonshine dances elsewhere, promising the stars to tango. and its darkness again, in all of its glory, bestowing on the sleeping jiang tian. but in sheng wang's vision, he has always been the brightest. nothing could ever compare to jiang tian's blinding shine.

oh.

and sheng wang feels the overwhelming urge to hold him. to embrace him. to be with him. because he has always been curious—those little touches were lethal, and sheng wang's already addicted. there's so much more in jiang tian that sheng wang wishes to desire. can he?

the sense of security washes over him like a growing tide, making his lungs tighten, and sheng wang could never forget how jiang tian made him feel.

and he feels so much. too much.

he could never forget how jiang tian made him be.

jiang tian is now drenched in red.

sheng wang knows this is a warning, a sign—don't. they sound like white noise in his ears, these no's and don'ts and pleas. sheng wang couldn't care less. because temptation has always been so delicious, and sheng wang's always a bit reckless.

so he leans closer. just enough to count the long lashes brushing against jiang tian's cheekbones, lulling him to sleep. just enough to remember the zeal of jiang tian's presence, ever-so-grounding, like an old tree under the pouring rain. just enough to understand that he loves.

he loves jiang tian so. he hopes jiang tian won't go.

his heart, oh, his poor heart. sheng wang believes that jiang tian could hear it. the roar. the growl. but maybe sheng wang wants jiang tian to listen. listen to the voice calling his name ever since—ever since he knew what wanting is—ever since he understood what loving is.

it's cold. so sheng wang pulls the blanket further up, covering both of them, sheltering them from the potent glare of these red lights. and when he breathes jiang tian in, sheng wang surrenders. he shudders.

don't leave me.

sheng wang shatters.

[stuffeddeer]

DEEEER happy (late) new year 🎊

i been so busy with work 😭 hope you're resting well!

been thinking about dazai lately as i usually do, he would be such a fucking pain in the ass if you gave him a drawing (if you gave a mouse a cookie style LMFAO)

it doesn't even have to be anything good, just some stupid doodle of a cat, and then he pesters you every day for a new drawing just for him

oh GOD and if you actually draw as a hobby? INSUFFERABLE, he'd probably dig through the trash for your discarded drawings or smth (smfh this man) and then complain cause why didnt you show HIM first instead of wasting perfectly good paper!

lol this is so stupid 💀

anyway byee -🩵

I’M SO GLAD YOU MENTIONED IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE BC THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT.

Your face scrunches up as you stare down at the corner of your paper. Would it be weird to give this to him? The last thing you want is to be perceived as some weird stalker, and you know he'd find a way to tease you for this. But... is throwing it out worse?

"Hey, Yosano," you tapped her on the shoulder before taking a seat on one of the medical cots she was working near. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot," she speaks listlessly, continuing to clean up the many medical papers littering her desk. It's not that she's uninterested, just a little out of focus.

There's a clear hesitation, causing the doctor to spin and look at you. Fiddling with the torn paper in your hand, you sigh. "This is probably weird, but, I drew Dazai."

"Don't see how that's weird," she replies, an amused smile on her face at your awkwardness.

"Well, I doodled him, I should say. Just in the margins of my r-report— " that you tore up. Oops. " —because he was across from me. And I could just throw it away, but I could give it to him. Would he think I'm a total creep if I offered it up..?"

And after a pep talk from Yosano, you found yourself standing beside Dazai's desk. His eyes lit up, having already noticed long before you had even registered it that you were drawing him. Everyone at the Agency was aware of your hobby, a few members having taken small doodles in the past, and Dazai was excited it was finally his time.

— that, along with your continued glances between him and your page earlier made it obvious it was him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asks slyly, his tone higher pitched than normal and mischievous. "Are you visiting little ol' me just to say hi?"

"Not quite. I drew this, if you want it." Trying to swallow your awkwardness, you hold out the paper scrap to Dazai. For a small sketch, it was surprisingly detailed. So this is how you viewed him, hm? He'd always known he was pretty, but...

"Is it possible to fall in love with myself?"

You choke back a laugh. "Alright, Narcissus. I'll take that to mean you like it?"

Dazai nods happily, jumping from his chair to rest his body weight onto you. "More more more! Please? Next do us together! Or even us kissing," he wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

The laugh finally bubbles over as your hands rest on Dazai's sides. "Get back to work! Or Kunikida will stop letting me draw at work, and then you'll have nothing."

"So that means if I stop, I'll have more?" He grins, his face close enough to yours to make you stumble back.

"Do you have to be so close? You're so clingy," you mutter, still holding his sides to keep him from coming closer. "If you get off, I'll consider supplying you with more doodles. Maybe."

And Dazai immediately jumps off of you and back to work.

[inklessletter]

Another kind of WIP

[hercarisntyours]

oplita notes but make it a whole ass drabble/oneshot from a year ago 🫦🫦

Elita watched as the human child ever so carefully placed...a flower crown? she's not sure, English is proving a difficult challenge, a flower crown on Optimus' servo; the fragrant accessory not being big enough for his head.

"Lookin' cute Orion" Elita smiled in their native tongue.

Optimus looked up from the human child to meet Elita's optics, quaintly smiling from underneath his mask.

"I believe Elita is in need of one" He suggested, diverting his attention back towards the child.

"She does! but she fits daffodils better! Let's go find some"

"...'Ri?" Elita asked as they watched the child run off.

"Yes, my dear?"

"What are daffodils?"

[9haharharley1]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rise of the Guardians (2012), Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Frost/Pitch Black, Jack Frost/Kozmotis Pitchiner Characters: Pitch Black (Guardians of Childhood), Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Kozmotis Pitchiner Additional Tags: Cat/Human Hybrids, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, rating will definitely go up, Catboy!Jack, Pitch is a bit of a creep, but thats just a given when i write him Summary:

How he came to be the owner of one extremely lively catboy was a matter of some debate, but the fact of the matter was that Pitch now had a very active catboy in his custody.

[localcanadiancreature62]

Lobotomy husbands fic cuz ive been waiting on making this until i drew the rest of the fucked up zodiac member clone group but yeah no i need them now. Also heyy this is technically their first actual interaction since i've been going on and on about them being husbands yet i haven't written them properly interacting except for that one intro thing.

Title - Perfect Day in the Perfect World

Bill watches Ford do some paperwork for his Oregon Institute of Oddology company as he waits for him to finish work so that he can finally spend time together with his genius. The triangle grins happily at Ford with his eye,who then gives him a tired smile in return as he yawns while going back to filling out forms in order to give other businesses permission to use his company's useful gadgetry. Bill keeps supervising his researcher husband while floating at his side as he kept grinning,but then he noticed the man shaking as he held the pen in his hand. Crushing it in his fist as the ink splattered everywhere. The genius keeps looking at the mess he made in a tired daze before realizing what had happened as Bill then floated closer toward him in concern,summoning a cloth to help Ford clean up the mess before he could do anything himself.

"Fordsy,what the heck was that?. Are you okay?,maybe you should take a break." Bill asks as he took a worried glance toward the man who just dismissively waved his hand at his triangular partner in order to assure him that he's fine. "I'm fine,my dear muse. I think that three days of trying to fill out these papers ever since Fiddleford decided that we should take turns is getting to me,i just need some rest and i'll be in tip top shape. I'll be with you in bed in a bit after i get these done." Ford explains as the isosceles still looks at him in concern but he lets it slide as his Fordsy has always been this stubborn.

"Fine. Don't overwork yourself too hard,Sixer. I'll be waiting~." Bill remarks as the flirty comment makes the man chuckle,with him floating away after he had finished wiping off his genius' inky mess. The triangle waits for a few minutes,which later turned into a few hours as he groans while bored out of his mind trying to wait for Ford. 'I wonder what he's doing now. He's taking a long time over there,although fleshbag work has always been lengthy and all. And that weird outburst.. I didn't look into his thoughts this time,but the way he started shaking before he destroyed the pen made it very clear that he was pretty stressed. I'm the reason why he's like this. I think that part of the reason why he's been so stressed lately is because of the aching feeling that there's something wrong with his life,and it's eating him up from the inside.' Bill thought to himself as he realized that the reason why Ford has been recently acting weird and high strung was actually him,he was the problem.

Although he wasn't willing to confront the fact that he had to deal with said problem,as that meant letting go of Ford. The isosceles then sighed as he brushed off that thought and kept waiting for his genius in the bedroom so that they could sleep together.

Only for him to hear glass shattering from the man's office as he then quickly floated over to the other room as he then prepared to blast flames at the intruder who entered their condo,but he then realizes that there's no threat after seeing that there was no intruder and just Ford himself staring at a broken vase while disoriented as he then ceased the fire from his hands. "Ford,what happened?." Bill asks as he looked at his genius in concern once more. "Oh uh. I accidentally knocked into a vase while zoning out again. Luckily,none of the glass got onto my hands or face. I'm okay,Bill." Ford replied as he gave his triangle a tired smile,snapping out of his dissociative daze.

"Oh.. He's disassociating again. That's a problem." Bill says as he voices his thoughts outloud,replying more to himself than his genius. "What?. What problem?." Ford questions,confused about what his husband just said. "Uhh nevermind. I'm glad that you're okay. I honestly thought that some dumb idiot tried to break into our house,but it was just your silly goose messing up again." Bill remarks as he then snapped his fingers to fix the vase as it then returned to it's original state on the small table near Ford. Ford then smiled at his dear muse while looking at him with adoring eyes,being glad that the triangle still loves him even in his difficult mental state.

"You know my muse,i'm happy to know that you still care about me even in my.. unstable mental state. I'm sorry to bother you with my mistakes when your All Seeing Greatness should be used for extraordinary things rather than my mortal failings." Ford says while looking at the isosceles in slight guilt,as he deems that a mere mortal like him pales in comparison to the brilliance of his near-god husband as the triangle's eye widens in surprise over the man's comment. "Fordsy,you're never a bother to me. You're my husband and i love you. I'll take care of you and deal with your mistakes for as long as you live." Bill reassures while he gave the man a gentle smile as the genius lets out a light chuckle,not expecting anything else from his husband but sheer adoration as he feels comforted by the triangle's words.

"Good then. Now let's go sleep,hm?. I finished the paperwork as i was heading out to bed earlier." Ford replied as Bill nodded while the triangle grabs his hand and holds it tight as the two walk over to the bedroom,or more like Bill floats and Ford walks alongside him. Bill makes it to the bed as Ford then begins to undo his tie after taking off his labcoat while the triangle watches him as he waited for his researcher husband to lay beside him as the man tiredly smiles at him once more but then before he could fully take off his tie,he feels a sharp pain in his skull as he groans in pain while beginning to dissociate as he clutches his own head while the triangle immediately comes to his aid as he asks him what's wrong only to get no response as he realizes what's happening. "Fordsy?. Fordsy?!. What happened?!." Bill exclaims but then he stops once he gets no response,watching as the man stares at the ground in an unfocused daze as he realizes that the man is dissociating again.

The triangle then resorts to shaking him back to normal since he knew the exact reason why this is happening,the constant memory erasure that he kept subjecting his poor genius to and so he figured that trying to erase things again would only make the problem worse. 'I shouldn't have resorted to memory erasing to fix every argument or problem we ever had. I just want him to be happy,but i never wanted it to turn out like this. The fixed state of my reality warping powers is getting rejected by his mind,and it's destroying him from the inside.' Bill thought to himself as he tearfully kept trying to shake his husband back into his original state. Then it clicked. As if a switch was flipped,Ford snaps out of his dissociative daze and blinks as he looks at the crying isosceles while a bit disoriented from the dissociative episode.

Ford's expression softens as he took a guilty glance at the triangle as he caressed his face,gently rubbing his finger over Bill's tears. "You're crying.. I did it again,didn't i? I had another episode. I'm sorry,my dear muse. I can't keep worrying you like this." Ford remarks as the triangle then hugs him as he smiled at his triangular husband. "It's okay. I just thought that you wouldn't come back this time,i thought that you broke permanently. This is a problem even my powers can't fix,but that's fine as long as you still get to be with me." Bill explains with a tinge of guilt,knowing that he caused this as he then stopped crying once he felt his genius' warm embrace. "I guess so. I'd be glad to keep being with you even with my broken mind,my dear muse. My triangle. My dearest Cipher~." Ford says as he then pulled away from the embrace as he kissed the isosceles straight on the eye mouth as he blushed,deciding to make up for those upsetting episodes by giving his beloved a tender kiss. Bill kisses back as he then lightly makes out with the genius,dragging him to the bed so that they could make out more comfortably. The two keep going at it for a while as various passionate groans and whimpers fill the room,but then after a while Bill realizes that his husband hasn't slept in three days yet he's putting all of his energy on him. He then pulls away in order to let the man sleep as the genius looks in confusion.

"Oh?. I thought we were going to take it a bit further?~." Ford asks as he slyly looks at the isosceles. "Yeah,but you need your rest. Do i need to remind you that you haven't had any proper sleep in three days,Fordsy?." Bill remarks as the genius looks up at him in slight embarrassment as he realizes that he does need rest and that he ended up letting himself get a bit too carried away with his husband. "Ah,right. I apologize,your intoxicating taste was too tempting~." Ford explains as the triangle then blushed from the comment. "Oh stop it. Now,sleep." Bill demands as the researcher complied and took off his sweater vest as well as his tie,only leaving his red collar shirt as he then laid beside the triangle who put on his own sleepwear in the form of a night cap with a snap of his fingers. Ford then shut his eyes as he embraced the triangle who turned off the light with a finger snap,with him shutting his own eye as well as the two went to sleep. Only Bill didn't fall asleep,he stayed up thinking about how he could make it up to his genius since he outright caused his mind to be shattered with the constant memory erasure. But then he had an idea. 'I feel terrible for basically breaking Fordsy's mind with the memory erasing. I need to make it up to him,even if he doesn't know why i'll be doing it. I need to make him happy,i need to fix this even for a little bit. Aha. I'll plan a day just for him,with all of his favorite things and favorite places. a Perfect Day in the Perfect World.' Bill thought to himself as he then let himself rest,planning to wake up early in order to plan out the day for his beloved.

The following day,Bill wakes up and slowly moves away from his genius' arms as the man continues sleeping while being unaware of his husband's great plan for him. He then goes over to the kitchen and summons all of Ford's favorite breakfast dishes such as jellybean cereal nutella waffles cream and strawberry crepes et cetera. Then he books a science museum a space observatory for stargazing a taxidermy center for extinct cryptid specimens and various other nerdy places for his genius. And a gift in the form of a light show that'll activate with a snap of his fingers,the light show will draw out Ford's favorite constellation "William" onto the sky via his flames. Plus he had Fiddleford deal with the company's duties for now,thus leaving the Oregon Institute of Oddology to the hillbilly and giving Ford a day off. Now that everything is done and all planned out,the triangle then waits for his researcher husband to wake up as he sat there in his chair at the kitchen while looking through the man's Journals to pass the time.

After about three hours of waiting,Ford finally wakes up at 8am as he yawns and stretches while walking down the spiral stairs. Bill grins as his eye shines brightly from being overjoyed to see his beloved as the man tiredly waves at him while smiling as he sits down in his chair. "Good morning,my dear muse.." Ford says groggily as he slumps his head on the table,not yet realizing the copious amounts of breakfast that the triangle has prepared for him. "Good morning,Fordsy!. How did you sleep?." Bill asks in a chipper tone,excited to spend the day with his beloved. "I slept well.. Still a bit tired though.. But i'm happy to see you." Ford replied as he then smiled at the triangle as he then walked over to hug him,kissing him on the forehead as he put him in a tight embrace as Bill blushed.

The man then noticed the several plates of breakfast littering the table,as he realized that they're all his favorite dishes while still hugging his husband. "My muse,you did all of this for me?." Ford questions as he eyed the various dishes on the table. "Yup!. They're all for you. And i have more surprises planned for today,as i want to give you a day off with just us since i noticed how stressed you were yesterday." Bill explains as the researcher's eyes widen in shock as he then lightly chuckles from the triangle's grand gesture. "I'm glad that you're always thinking of me. I'm happy to have you as my partner,Bill." Ford remarks as he smiled while the isosceles smiled back. "Of course. I love you Fordsy and i'll take any opportunity to show it. And me too. Now eat up,we have a big day ahead of us." Bill replied as the genius nods as he then let go of his beloved as he sat back in his chair to eat the glorious feast the triangle has prepared for him while his triangular husband watches him with an adoring eye.

Ford finishes his food after a while and Bill offers to do the dishes for him despite the fact that he could easily snap the plates back to normal,the genius wanted to do it but Bill insisted that he let him do something for him since he compromises so much for him so Ford let him. After that,the married couple have a blast at the Gravity Falls Science Museum and finish enjoying all of the exhibits before noon as Bill happily listened to Ford ramble about each one according to their topics. By the time noon comes around,Bill and Ford have lunch at a fancy restaurant elsewhere in Oregon where the triangle insists that he let the man choose every dish since the day is for him after all and he obliged as they have a wonderful meal while discussing the past stories they had together. They then go stargazing at the Portland Observatory and the couple have fun naming every constellation together while Ford teased Bill every time he got one wrong,they stayed there until they realized it was evening/late afternoon. Then Bill took him to the Salem Taxidermy Center to look at a bunch of extinct cryptid taxidermy specimens,where Ford happily studied and rambled about every exhibit. The two then went to the other nerdy places that Bill booked for them both,spending time together while not caring about how late at night it was. Then before they went home,the two had fun talking at a bar while getting absolutely inebriated although more so Ford than Bill as the man decided to use his de-atomizer gun to vaporize the members of a bar fight there in his drunken stupor. He would've killed literally everyone there if Bill hadn't intervened and by intervened i mean he reversed the vaporizing bar fight with his new ability to control time itself.

Bill then had to take a very drunk Ford back to their condo before the man killed anyone else with his de-atomizer gun,with him carrying the man bridal style while floating back home as the genius incoherently rambled about how much he loved the triangle. "I love you,Bill." Ford remarks as he absentmindedly poked the isosceles' bowtie a few times while still being carried. "Fordsy,this is the billionth time you've said that." Bill says in slight annoyance as he kept floating back to their condo. "I know,but it's true. You deserve to *hic* hear it more than once~." Ford teases as the triangle blushes in response. He then recalls how much fun he had with his beloved muse the whole day,smiling at the thought of his husband doing all of that for him despite the fact that a mere mortal like him is unworthy of such treatment (Ford ur secret insecurities are showing).

"Why did *hic* you do this for me?. The whole day i mean. Besides wanting to spend time with me without any work in the way " Ford asks,genuinely curious about his beloved's reasoning for planning such a fantastic day as the triangle arrives in front of the condo only to stop to respond to his genius. "Well,i wanted to make you happy. Since that.. problem regarding your broken mind upset you,and me,both of us really. I wanted to give us both a break from dealing with that." Bill explains as he then put the man down,putting him in a side hug in order to stop him from stumbling. "Oh.. But my muse,you already make me happy just by being here with me." Ford replied,a little saddened by the thought of his dearest feeling obligated to fix things because of that unstable mind of his but he appreciated his efforts regardless. "I know. But i wanted to plan a special day for my special man anyway~." Bill flirts as the man blushed in response.

"Ah. I'm so glad that you notice whenever i'm upset,and that you do everything in your power to make it better. You're a wonderful husband,Bill." Ford says as he smiled at the triangle,who smiled back at him. "I know. Now let's go home and talk a little bit about our fun day before going to bed. And maybe get a little frisky~." Bill teased as the genius blushed even deeper,although this time the redness of his face isn't coming from the alcohol and rather from the arousal he felt from the thought of getting to be pleasured by his muse again after a while of not being able to feel the triangle's hands on him due to his CEO work. "O-Okay. As you wish,my dearest husband." Ford remarks as the triangle then helped him walk back to their house but then Bill remembered that he had another surprise left for his genius so he stopped floating as he then snapped his fingers,the "William" constellation being drawn out in the night sky with his flames as the man looks up in awe. "Ta-da!. It's your favorite,the constellation that looks a lot like a certain charming triangle~. I decided to show it to you since you can't see it normally anymore with the clouds and all." Bill explains as the man then kissed him on the cheek as thanks as he then blushed gold. "Thank you,my dear muse. For all of the wonderful surprises you gave me today,including this one." Ford replied as he then smiled at Bill,who grinned back at him.

"You're welcome,Fordsy. I love you." Bill remarks as the man embraced him. "I love you too. We should go home now. I'm hungry for a steak dinner,and for you~." Ford teases as the triangle blushed even deeper than his genius was as he knew what the man meant by that,then they kept walking back to the condo as Bill summoned a steak dinner while not being able to wait to fuck Ford as he desperately fidgeted in his chair. The man chuckles as he saw how antsy his dear muse was,making sure to eat up fast so that he won't wait for long. He then finished up his steak as Bill snapped his fingers to reverse the plates back to their clean state,then he quickly teleported him and Ford to the bedroom while then removing the man's clothes with a snap of his fingers. The triangle eyed the man hungrily as Ford blushed and panted at the thought of being touched by his beloved again after a while of not experiencing his hands on his member due to work,with Bill chuckling as the genius already wet the bed when he hasn't touched him yet. Bill then put his finger on the man's lips to signal him to quiet down his whimpers,while looking at him slyly as he knew that they're going to he at this for a while.

[revasserium]

anon request: why they call it falling x osamu miya

126. why they call it falling

osamu; 1,078 words; fluff and the most fleeting of suggestive themes; really just a character study on the miya twins + reader as a conduit for character dev

he has always had someone who knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how he was feeling. because when god made twins (or so osamu thinks), they got really fucking lazy and probably just hit ctrl+v one too many times.

when he meets you for a first time, he wonders if this is what it felt like for a hurricane and a typhoon to finally learn about each other, the only difference between them being where they occur — only an entire ocean and half a world apart.

“i think… i met someone,” he says.

“i think… i’m done with volleyball after high school ends,” he says.

“i think you’re an idiot,” atsumu says.

“do you… think i’m an idiot?” osamu asks, sitting across from you on a summer evening, long after practice has been over, but the stickiness of the day still lingers on his skin. tsumu is still mad at him, but what else is new?

you regard him for a minute, pressing your lips into a soft, thin line as you stare out across the darkening horizon.

“no…” you say finally, looking down at your hands, loose in your lap. osamu looks down at his own hands, loose in his lap, his palms littered with calluses from all the hours of practice. all the hours of dreaming.

“i don’t think you’re an idiot.”

osamu smiles, nodding, “thanks…”

the truth is that it’s been way too long since he’s felt like the shadow of himself, or perhaps of someone else, and it’s been way too long since he’s really known what it felt like to do something with his whole entire soul and feel good about it. and that’s a kind of growing up too — so he learns — that’s a kind of changing.

“we wanted to be the best,” he admits, chuckling to himself, the thought of it now somehow ridiculous in a way that it’s never been to him before. he shakes his head and sighs, shaking our his bangs from his eyes as he casts his gaze up towards the first burgeoning stars.

“you still can — what’s stopping you?” you ask, your grin going lopsided in the way he likes. and when he looks back at you, he sees the world reflected in your eyes.

later that night, when he is making music of your body with his lips skimming a line along the sharp of your exposed collarbones, when his fingers are tugging you apart, when you are pushing back against him, pushing him back into the mattress of his own bed and atsumu is nowhere to be found (probably still sulking somewhere with the rest of the team), you pull back and smile at him — the lopsided smile he loves so much and he can’t help but lean up to kiss it from your lips.

and he feels it in his own body then, the years and years and years of his practice, the years and years and years of his hard work. him and his twin brother — the mirrored half of himself, the light to (perhaps) his shadow. ying and yang and all that slow, smooth jazz.

he grins too and kisses you. he kisses you hard and fast and he makes music of his own body then, too. because his body has long since been an instrument and he was born knowing how to play every single one of its notes.

“stay,” he says, after he’s had his fill of you, because a part of him knows that he’ll be just as hungry later.

“maybe,” you answer, even as you both hear his brother come home.

atsumu comes back to find both of you asleep, the sheets twisted over your very, very naked bodies. and a part of him wants to hate it but another part of him doesn’t. he can’t.

because this is what happens when a hurricane and a typhoon learn about each other for the very first time — they are so, so much the same thing, made different only by their times and places. but they are still just beating hearts and half-caught breaths — they are still just wind and rain and a tunnel between the sea and the never-ending sky.

“what are you gonna do?” atsumu asks, not looking at his twin.

osamu shrugs, “dunno… maybe i’ll make rice balls.”

“hn. you do make good riceballs.”

“i… i think i really like her, y’know.”

atsumu heaves a long, deep breath. he nods.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu grins, “right. of course you do.”

and the truth is that when god made twins, they probably hit ctrl+v one too many times, and they have always known things about each other that no one else will ever know or fully understand. like, the things that make them different, totally and inexplicably.

“he’s gonna be the best in the world,” osamu says, his eyes bright as twin stars as you sit next to him, the pair of you glued to the match on the tv screen. there’s an apron around samu’s waist and rice sticking to his fingers.

you almost laugh.

“he already is,” you say.

it takes three seconds of osamu to turn to you, his grin going lopsided as he watches you watch him.

“i — i think i love you.”

and you really do laugh this time.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu only rolls his eyes, goes back to pressing the musubi between his palms as the commercial break cuts to some curry commercial featuring an incredibly deadpanned kageyama. he packs the rice in tight and hands it to you.

“how’s it taste?”

you take your time savoring the flavor, grinning as you take another huge bite. the smile on osamu’s face spreads and spreads and spreads.

“like the best in the world,” you say, before shoving the whole thing into your mouth just to make osamu laugh.

“you’re… an idiot.”

you swallow hard and reach for a glass of water.

osamu catches your hand and presses his lips to the inside of your wrist, letting his lips linger there even as the commercial break ends.

“i know,” you say, nodding as you both turn back to the screen. the rice is warm and fresh and the nori is crispy and just the perfect amount of salty.

“yeah, i know."

[ronihilator]

i need,,, a few,,

[farshootergotme]

New Dick Grayson fic! (only Dick Grayson fic because this is actually my first time writing anything about him)

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.

[piquanteye]

An Equivalent Exchange, Ch 3

What started as a fun Tomione one-shot a few months ago has now turned into a multi-shot ... with feelings. It's um. It began as smut but now the characters have decided to do their own thing. Not my fault really.

On Ao3.

Here's a lil snippet from Ch 3:

During the last week of term, she realises just how much she’d grown accustomed to seeing his face in class, hearing his smooth voice, and thinking to herself: mine. She'd used to watch him, her expression carefully blank, as their professors praised his flawless arithmancy proofs, or his perfectly brewed potion samples - his lips had curled into that practised smile, bright and warm like the sunlight filtering through the window behind him; it lit up half the room - and from across the tables she'd thought about how she would later kiss those same lips in a dark alcove somewhere on the third floor; she'd loosen his tie, his belt buckle and all his pretenses, and hear his voice, his real voice, low and rough and desperate in her ear. But now obviously those thoughts do not occur to her anymore. Because he is not hers and never was.

To those who are waiting for Limits of Power update, uh um I'm so sorry. It's not abandoned, I've just been fighting the urge to re-write it. And i got side-tracked by learning art stuff. I even have the next chapter sitting in my drafts so the words are there, they just need some (more) time to cook.

[iminyourbookshelf]

Theory time! Codeflippa isn't intentionally evil, but the excutuion of her actions are evil. Like what she is doing is good for one person, but harms another. I have no idea how explain it so have a little writing thing

Juanaflippa stared down at the code monster talking to her dad. It smiled at him with open arms. His voice was pained and desperate as he thought he'd "reunited" with her. A pang of jealously went through her heart. This 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, was impersonating her. It was taking the affection she could no longer have.

She watched as the day went on, the imposter wasn't even like her. It forgot things. It ate meat, she wouldn’t have. It didn't even speak Spanish, like she would've done with her Papa.. where ever he was.

It took everything she wished so dearly she had in the afterlife. Flippa was just grateful she didn't have to hear her dad sing someone else to sleep. He did still tuck it in. He told it he loved it. Flippa had never heard him say "I love you" or "I'm sorry" so much before. Besides her final goodbye.

She watched him go to sleep. In the same house as the code. Surely nobody would notice if she came down there, right? Her dad couldn't see ghosts.

It took all the energy she had to not just cry out at the monster. It tilted it's head at her, binary code flashing in its eyes as if attempting to calculate her simple apperance.

"Why are you here?" She signed quickly. "What do you want from him."

The code replied with an odd smile. It knew something she didn't.

"Y0u w4nt t0 s33 h1m 4g4in?"

She nodded.

"H3'll b3 w1th y0u s00n."

It pointed to her sleep dad, particularly at his hand. Flippa quietly went over. Her eyes widened in surprise.

A small trail of flickering binary covered part of his hand. It was buzzing, and made his hand twitch. Or more likely, glitch.

"Is it hurting him?" She signed nervously to the code.

It nodded, though with no look of malice.

"Will it kill him?"

It paused, taking a moment to write on its sign. The tension in waiting was making her worry. Codes took long to write.

"I w1ll h4v3 @ d4d, 4nd y0urs w1ll jo1n y0u. Y0u w1ll h4v3 a par3nt aga1n."

It was a conflicting statement. No child wants their parent to die, at least she didn't. But, she missed him. She loved her dad and papa more than anything. Her dad wasn't that happy down there either.. she saw how desperate he was when he thought he got her back.

Maybe he'd be happier up here, with her and Tílin. Like they were.

Before Flippa could reply, the code watched her fade slowly as the apparition dissipated. Ju4n4Fl1pp4 smiled. Once the code took over his body, he'd be up there with the other Juanaflippa. Then she could finally have her own family.

[asharaks]

longest sentence

flesh rends beneath his blade, and I raise my drippingwet hand; Zevran laughs, sunbright-somewhere, his blade arcing water, droplets catching the rainbow, and You whisper beneath my skin; Morrigan sneers, and ozone fills the thin air, leaves me breathless and reeling; and I hold out my sword in supplication, in sanctification, and catch her lightning.

stats: 55 words, 9 commas, 3 semicolons :3

tagged by @vampireposter and @ikarons mwahhhh<3 tagging @bladesmitten @fllagellant @baronmpontmercy !!

[jafndaegur]

laugh away the sadness in the summertime

Rating: Teen

Ship: Lan Xichen x Jiang Cheng

Song: Woven Fates by Holostars Tempus

Word Count: 5.1K

Gift for tuples on AO3 for the @mdzs-mixtape

Summary:

“Perhaps, though I can't say I'm any less angry than I usually am. Just better at not unleashing it wantonly.” Jiang Cheng kicked an offensive clump of grass. “I've learned though, on matters that were purposefully kept from my knowledge that I can't blame myself for not knowing, y’know?”

Lan Xichen regarded him quietly without answering. Could it really be that simple?

“At least that's what I think. But perhaps I'm not making much sense.” Jiang Cheng winced.

“Not at all,” Lan Xichen smiled gently. “If anything, you’ve given me something to ponder. Something that makes my previous involvements less…bleak.”

Jiang Cheng smiled. “I’m happy I could help, Zewu-jun.”

Lan Xichen found himself taken aback. Jiang Cheng's smile wasn't something sardonic or sneering like he'd seen in the past. But once again, it was a hint at a youth he'd seen long ago. It was hesitant and boyish, a refreshing sight after so many memories of fox-curled lips plastered to the sparks against snow.

Read more on AO3!

[afterthegreatunknown]

random pre-canon moment with some sbg members (all eighteen or older here) that is a combination:

a hot summer is something not many people want to experience. this goes especially so when the hot summer day drives everyone indoors and being indoors isn't help at all, even if you close the blinds and drawn the curtains to limit the sun's ray and heat. luckily, the invention of the air conditioner and the fan makes being indoors enjoyable.

unfortunately, monty montgomery's air conditioner is broken, and he only has one working fan. as such, everyone is taking turns sharing the fan. still, everyone is wearing clothes fitting for the weather. almost everyone, but he isn't currently in monty's place at the moment and that is the opinion of the people indoors: monty, frank, kit, bertrand, and miranda.

monty is currently in a t-shirt and loose shorts. frank is also in loose shorts, but he's wearing a sleeveless shirt, having taken off his button-down shirt on account of the heat. kit is wearing a tied crop top and jean shorts, with her hair in a messy high bun. bertrand has his button shirt undone, and elected to strip down to his boxers on account of not wearing shorts today, with his pants in a nearby corner.

miranda, the lucky girl, currently has the fan. wearing a camisole and workout shorts (her outer shirt she took off), she lies on monty's sofa with the fan blowing on her face. miranda won her turn with the fan on account of winning the latest round of fuck, marry, kill; her answer was fucking dorothea s. markson (not to be confuse with s. theodora markson, her sister), marrying gifford, and killing captain robinson (widdershins' second chaperone)

as monty lies on the floor with frank, kit, and bertrand, all of them having an ice pack on their foreheads -or chest in bertrand's case- miranda continues to lie on his sofa with her eyes close. it's a comfortable silence in the apartment. nearly everyone would have fallen asleep if it wasn't for one thing...

"aha! that's it!" shouts miranda.

monty takes off his icepack, and sits upright. he sees miranda sitting upright also, positioning herself to see the others on the floor.

"what's it, miranda?" asked monty.

kit, bertrand and gustav follow suit, removing their ice packs and sitting upward to stare at miranda.

"i just thought of a new combination in our game on who gets the fan!" miranda smiles at them, devilishly so.

"oh no," say monty. "i don't like that look of yours."

"something tells me that smile implies our choices this round are worser than the last," says kit, pushing up her glasses. "but i'm in. who do we have to pick from?"

"you're being rude, snicket. we should wait for widdershins to come back," says frank.

"i agree with frank," says bertrand. "it's unfair for widdershins to be excluded and lose an opportunity to have the fan."

"i was implying that with widdershins picking up our lunch, we should wait for our food before we play our game," says frank. "but your reasoning is a hell of lot better than mine."

what frank said is correct. widdershins is the one in their group not wearing clothes fitting for the weather, at least in their opinion. he's wearing a light blue button-down shirt -though his sleeves are rolled up and the top two buttons are undone- and brown loose pants. he unlike the others, made no complains about the hot weather.

and that is why widdershins was elected to pick up their lunch.

"oh bertrand, don't get yourself in a twist!" miranda waves a hand at him. "he'll get his chance! you just have to wait to say your answers until he returns!"

"but that means we have the advantage of having to think over our answers, while widdershins will possibly get only a minute or so," bertrand argues.

"bertrand, while i understand your concerns, do remember that this is widdershins we're talking about," says kit. "remember his philosophy."

"he who hesitates is lost," answers bertrand.

"or she," adds in monty.

"exactly!" miranda snaps her fingers. "that means widdershins wouldn't need to think that long to give his answer. ergo, the rest of you are in the clear on hearing the choices."

bertrand doesn't say anything, but he nods his head in agreement.

"since we have everything settle," continues miranda, "let the game round begin! fuck, marry, kill: ghede-"

"ghede!?" interrupts frank. "you pick her of all people!?"

"says the one who gave us gifford in the last round," mutters monty.

frank gives a nasty glare at monty, and then a hard smack on the arm.

"anyway," continues miranda, "as i was saying! fuck, marry, kill: ghede, mr. clovis baudelaire-"

"miranda," interrupts kit, "you're making this too easy. we all know which one beatrice's father deserves."

"we should grateful that beatrice inherited his looks, and not his personality," says bertrand.

"you all need to remember that i'm not done yet," says miranda. "fuck, marry, kill: ghede, mr. clovis baudelaire, and...ishmael."

hearing the last name drop, everyone froze.

of all the volunteers, ishmael was the one they never expected. their generation has such a hatred -or extreme dislike from those who are trying to be polite- for the old man, the four young adults didn't expect miranda to bring ishmael's name up in their game.

everyone is in too much of a shock to make a proper response or complaints of frustration at miranda. speaking of frustrations, miranda quickly crosses her arms, and glares at them all.

"is no one going to yell at me for including that old coot?" asks miranda. "no cussing me out? nothing at all?"

no one still speaks.

"since you're all going to be quiet," continues miranda, "now would be a good time for widdershins to show up."

knock-knock-knock!

"everyone, i'm back! i got our lunches, aye!" shouts a familiar voice.

"well shit," says miranda, standing up now. "i got bless with the gift of prophecy from apollo. don't worry everyone. i'll get the door."

miranda leaves the room, leaving everyone still in their place. the four of them hears miranda unlocking the door, and widdershins stepping in. not long afterwards, the two of them return. widdershins is carrying two large paper bags, one in each hand.

widdershins stares at them all, and then tilts his head. "what got their tongues?"

"my choices for the newest round of fuck, marry, kill," answers miranda. "give me the bags, widdershins. you should sit down. you been in the heat, after all."

widdershins does exactly that, taking a spot between monty and frank. widdershins stares at each one individually, and then twiddles his thumbs. "are they that terrible of choices?"

"depends on how you look at it," says miranda, her voice coming from the kitchen. "well, since you're here, it's now your turn to hear them. fuck, marry, kill: ghede, mr. clovis baudelaire, and ishmael."

widdershins blinks a few times in rapid succession, and then stares at everyone. "that is certainly a combination of choices, miranda."

"i know." miranda comes back to the room, and sits back down on the sofa. "but that is the aim of the game, widdershins."

widdershins turns his attention to miranda. "i suppose so." he then curls up a lock of his hair up like parentheses. he stares at a random spot somewhere for a moment, and then lets go of his lock of hair.

miranda gives a brief glance at bertrand. it's an 'i told you so' glance, for she next says, "i assume you have your answer?"

"aye. gave it some thought too," answers widdershins. "for me, it's fuck ishmael, marry ghede, and kill clovis baudelaire."

seconds later, everyone sans miranda speaks up at last.

"please tell us you're fucking joking," says monty softly, voice so soft it's hard to hear.

"what the ever-loving FUCK," shouts frank, voice bold and loud.

"what are you fucking thinking!?" yells kit, voice hinting great disappointment.

"i must again reiterate: 'fuck' in our game context means sexual intercourse," states bertrand, as if he's reading a dictionary definition.

"aye. i stand by what i said," answers widdershins, standing up. he brushes his hands on his pants, and claps his hands. "i'll tell you my reasoning over lunch. aye, i'm starving. i hope the chill cucumber soup isn't warm. josephine says it's one of the best things she ever ate, aye, and i want to eat it the way it should be!"

as widdershins walks to the kitchen, everyone stares at one another, still horrified with what widdershins said with little hesitation.

miranda is biting her lower lip, eyes wide. kit has her hand on her forehead, looking pale and haunted. frank drags both of his hands down his, and gives a muffled scream. monty runs both hands into his hair, and screeches softly.

bertrand is the only one who has a resemblance of calm. he stands up quickly, and then buttons up his shirt. then he walks over to the nearby corner where his pants are at.

"regardless of our associate's reasoning," says bertrand, putting on his pants, "are we in agreement that whatever we answer, widdershins wins this round?"

"aye," say kit, nodding her head.

"agree," says miranda, blinking a few times.

"no one is going to beat widdershins's answer," says monty,

"of course no one is," says frank. "it's hard to beat the answer of a hypothetical old man fucker."