#i had SO MUCH FUN writing it you guys have no idea

[yukioos]

hiii honey!! can i request a leon and ada drabble kinda like ur ashley and leon one? but this time reader takes a liking to both but leon and ada don’t like each other?

BE MY BABY

SUMMARY: on september 29, 1998, you first met leon kennedy and ada wong. six years later, you are sent to rescue the president’s daughter from a town in spain. the last people you expect to be there are leon and ada, who both seem to have an attraction to you. unfortunately, they seem to hate each other more than ever.

WARNINGS: not proofread, cussing, reader’s in the military, ada and leon literally hate each other

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guys! please send resident evil asks because i had so much fun writing this! this is kind of like my ashley and leon writing, so it’s not necessarily a full-on oneshot. it’s basically just ideas. this is 1.1k words.

being in the military is hard work. hours on the field and time-consuming training and meetings have tired you out quicker than you expected. but there is one thing you know for sure: being in the military isn’t for everyone.

september 29, 1998 was the day that changed your life. living in raccoon city was great, it had a supportive community and historical sites to visit once and a while. you’d just gotten home from a mission that took half a month to complete. you quickly became a lieutenant, and ever since then, your days have been filled with leading troops through missions.

however, you didn’t have much time at home before you had to evacuate to the police department because of the zombies. on your way to the department, you met a man who claimed his name was leon kennedy, and he was a police officer who was supposed to start his job that day. he was a sweetheart, far too kind and caring to be deserving of dealing with a traumatic outbreak.

for the hours you spent together, you learned a lot about him, and vice versa. he was a sweetheart, but you could see the sadness and pain behind his eyes. this certainly wasn’t how he expected his first day to go. unfortunately, it was as if the zombies were perpetual, almost every time you’d turn a corner, a hoard would be walking toward you.

the two of you then met a supposed fbi agent, who introduced herself as ada wong. she was mysterious, leaving randomly with no answers, leaving you feeling annoyed. there was something different about her, something wrong. you believed there was no way an fbi agent would randomly leave an officer and a lieutenant on their own to do their own thing, especially not in that situation.

you eventually parted ways with the two of them and found yourself safe for a short period.

six years later, you still remember leon and ada, secretly hoping they’re still safe or in touch. the trauma had followed you, and when you were sent by the president to find his daughter, you of course accepted. it seemed iffy that she was kidnapped by a cult, in a rural town in spain, but nonetheless, you did what you had to do.

he stated you would be accompanied by an agent, who he didn’t name. only when you saw another person standing by the police car to drive you to spain, did you realize who the man was.

leon fucking kennedy. he was actually alive.

your heart flutters as he gently says your name, “y/n?” and you softly smile, you feel exhilarating, and happiness runs through your veins.

instead of a quiet ride, like you would have preferred with anyone else, you and leon discuss what had happened the past six years. he had become an agent with the role of protecting the president’s family, and at the same time, you were moving up the ranks as fast as lightning. the president wanted the best and most talented people to save his daughter. luckily, he chose the perfect team.

you ask what happened with ada, and your heart drops once he tells you she’s a spy.

she seemed genuine, but your suspicions were proven right, she was just trying to get the g-virus and bring it back to her boss.even after hearing all that, you still feel sad for her. she went through so much, and the only two people who went through exactly what she did probably hate her.

but when exploring spain, you never would’ve expected to see her again. you persuade yourself to trust her again, because, in the end, she desires the best for the world.

leon feels the opposite about ada. he hates everything she does, every little word she oh-so confidently says, and how she’s always doing so much for you. she left the two of you, she doesn’t deserve you, as he thinks. he doesn’t want you and him to get manipulated again, and he thinks the two of you share the passion of hating ada.

leon took in all the words you said in the car ride to spain, but was mostly focusing on your plump lips. the way your lips would stretch into a smile, the sides curving upwards, would make his body feel warm. he missed you so much, more than words could describe. every day, he thought about seeing you again. he didn’t even know you were still alive until he heard the president mention your name once. as he spoke highly of you, pride bloomed in leon’s chest. he knew you before you became a very well-known military asset.

leon knew he fell in love easily. hell, he fell in love with you the first time he saw you at the police station. you were in the prettiest outfit, and once you escaped the department, he saw your necklace that had been lying on your chest, dropped on the ground. he kept that necklace for the next six years in hopes of bringing it back to you one day.

he gave it back to you in the police car, telling you straight up, and how he had hoped he would see you again someday. the gratefulness and red cheeks made him quietly chuckle. he secretly relished in the idea of you being flustered and touched because of him.

in 1998, ada felt the need to protect you and leon, she thought she felt attracted to him at one point. she then realized the idea of being with you would be much more wholesome and better for you. leon was just a rookie who didn’t know anything! there was no way you would warm up to him quicker than her

the rookie hardly knew anything, he clearly wasn’t taught to be weary of other people. he was too gullible, in ada’s opinion. there wasn’t many good things about him. his jokes weren’t funny, he didn’t have many appealing qualities, so clearly she was a much better partner for you.

seeing you in your cute, dark blue button-up blouse and black skirt makes her eye you like a dog eyeing a cat. she wants you all to herself, and will do anything to gain that. she would gently lift your chin or tease you while talking to you, asking “are you listening? seems like your mind is somewhere else.” and hook her arm around your waist to redirect you to a different path.

but she and leon knew the other won’t give up on attaining your love. i mean, who wouldn’t want you? you are the most perfect person ever, perfect qualities, perfect beauty, perfect skills, and that’s something they can both agree on. the spy and agent both want you to have the best partner, but both believe they are the one for you.

you hate how they can’t see eye to eye on what you think about the two of them. you love both of them. leon’s chuckle and jokes make you feel like you have a heart attack— in the best way possible, though! he always finds a way to brighten your mood whenever you are feeling upset and will voice his concerns about you. he was straightforward, and you love that in a person. another reason why you love him is that he’s one of the most handsome people you’ve ever seen. whenever his eyes wander into yours, your cheeks feel a little too hot beyond comfort.

ada is beautiful, and you are sure of one thing. red is her fucking color. i mean, god, you’ve spent days just thinking about who could wear red better than her, and that wasn’t even one of the main reasons why you love her! the way she does everything in a confident matter makes you adore her, she seems so sure of herself. she was so strong and far more talented than anyone you’ve known. the way she effortlessly avoids danger like the back of her hand, and protects you from it as well, makes your cheeks flush.

how were you supposed to choose between two of the best people in the world? the hours you spend with them are supposed to be calm, besides finding ashley, but instead, it’s stressful. all that time you only think about finding the president’s daughter, and the two love interests that cloud your mind for eternity.

[beescrafting]

You aren't my Lieutenant.

Angstful writing idea that I have for Ghost and Roach that ties into what I'm writing and to put Roach in the reboot series just cause I love him SO DAMN MUCH.

___

Ghost remembered his rookie days alongside Roach. They joined together around the same time. They hated each other's guts at first but soon became something like brothers, a nice relationship.

Then when he got captured by Roba and Ghost was truly made, Gary was by his side. Gary always was by his side when he lost everything. Except when he lost him. It was a mission... of course, it was a damn mission it wouldn't have been anything else. Gary was close to getting on the exfil before being shot.

Ghost mourned his friend, hell he looked at the damn build-a-bear Gary had gotten him one time to poke fun at him... he held it close before squeezing the palm of it. 'Simon don't be such a sad sap' the voice of Gray...

now Gary was gone...

Years passed and Ghost still felt the guilt, he was apart of the 141 now with Captain Price, Sergeants Kyle 'Gaz' and Johnny 'Soap'... it was getting back to some sense of normalcy if you could call it that.

And then they get a strange power burst while on base, and the alarms of an inturder ring through the building.

Ghost is the first to find him, it's Gary... it's Roach...

Roach doesn't recognize him, pointing a gun at him and looking around confused.

"Who the hell are you?" Roach muttered.

Ghost had never been so happy to have a gun pointed at him. For his friend was back... or some sort of version.

~~~

It was just a mission for Gary alongside his Lieutenant and Captain, invade a building, take down the machine and gather intel. Simple and plain.

So explain to him why he was trapped in the room with the damn machine turned on as his captain and Lieutenant tried to get him out, it was too late they all knew it... but it still hurt to know he was going to die like this.

"Hey Lt, Cap' think i won't be able to get drinks this time" He joked as the bright green light consumed him.

Roach expected pain, a firey sensation... But no... he was in some random dark room... it confused him. As he moved the lights suddenly turned on which freaked him out as he looked for hostiles... their was nothing... then how did the lights turn on?...

Roach quickly moved to radio to his squad, to his captain, to his lieutenant... nothing but static came through...

"Shit... shit" Roach mumbled unsure on what was happening... That when someone strange entered the room, and quickly shouted at him to stop. And what does roach do? What any good cock roach would...

Run.

He rushed past that random guy, a guy with a nice plain t-shirt and a baseball cap with the British flag. It didn't make sense for him to be back in England when the mission took place in fucking france!

He ran, and ran, the lights and alarms started. This place, this base, this compound or lab knew he was here now, he needed to find a way out and to get back to his team.

This place was large and confusing it was nothing like the building he was once in... He turned a corner only to find a door, it was better than anything so he rushed in and closed the door behind him. He heard the steps of men passing by yelling orders trying to find him.

Roach stepped back from the door for a few minutes, playing rock, paper, scissors with himself to calm down and focus. Once he was calm enough, he began to process what had happened. What was he going to do? He didn't know where he was, what had happened, or what he could do... It was just almost too much.

Roach leaned against the wall to this... what the hell was this? He glanced around, it looked to be a debriefing room... alright... he could work with this... just maybe.

He went through looking around for anything he could use, information mostly, it was all stuff about missions and Makarov... of fucking course Makarov...

He scoffed for a moment before hearing the door to the room open. He froze still for a signal moment before turning around raising his gun. Only to be met by one scary god damn mother fucker.

This wall of a person surrounded in black with a skull mask, Gary didn't want to know if it was fake or not, stared at him still just like him. It took all his willpower just to mutter, "Who the hell are you?"

___

im not feral for roach content... yes I am feral for roach content I just love him so much.

[poepoesstuff]

Satosugu x Reader Series - Part 1: Meeting Gojo & Geto

Notes: I’ve never written fanfiction before, so please don’t take it too seriously! I was just bored and thought about this idea because I love the concept of being in a poly relationship with Gojo and Geto—it seems like so much fun! I’m new to writing, so feedback, questions, or suggestions are totally welcome! I’m just having fun with it.

Tags:

#Satosugu #Gojo Satoru #Geto Suguru #Reader Insert #Jujutsu Kaisen #Satoru Gojo x Reader #Suguru Geto x Reader #Polyamory #Fanfiction #Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfic #Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto #JJK Fanfiction #Gojo x Geto #Jujutsu High #Satosugu x Reader

-

You guys knew each other from high school. You came to Jujutsu High later but joined the same class as Gojo and Geto, though you were on a different team. The first person you noticed was Gojo Satoru from the Gojo Clan—a lineage you’d only heard of. His reputation and charm immediately intrigued you. However, it was Geto Suguru who ultimately stole your heart with his calm confidence.

You were introduced to the class about a year and a half before Geto’s path took a darker turn.

As Yaga steps into the class, he calls attention to you. You follow him in, and several surprised faces turn to look at you.

“This is Y/N. She’s a kunoichi from a remote village in Japan and will be attending as your classmate from now on. Y/N, introduce yourself.”

You take a breath, feeling the eyes on you, but stand confidently. “I am L/N Y/N, from the C/N Clan. As of today, I’m beginning my journey as a sorcerer at Jujutsu High. My family is known for preserving sorcery knowledge and secrets. As the new heir, I’ve come to study and hone my skills.”

You notice intrigued expressions, especially from a silver-haired boy with piercing blue eyes in the back. Shoko’s gaze also seems particularly curious. Once Yaga leaves, you take your seat and start your Jujutsu High journey. Quickly, you become friends with Shoko, who introduces you to both Gojo and Geto.

First Impressions

Gojo is thrilled to have you in class and wastes no time bringing you up with Geto.

“So,” Gojo nudges Geto with a grin, “what do you think of the new girl?”

Geto raises an eyebrow, already catching onto Gojo’s interest. “You mean Y/N? She has an interesting technique, definitely useful in a fight.”

Gojo laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He gives Geto a playful shove.

Geto smirks knowingly. “Well, if you’re asking… yes, she’s beautiful. Kinda reminds me of Erika Sawajiri.”

Gojo huffs, crossing his arms. “Right? I knew I had an eye for these things!”

Meanwhile, you feel lucky to be spending time with both of them. Missions become highlights of your training whenever you’re paired with Gojo, Geto, or both.

Gojo Satoru’s Approach to Win You Over

After Gojo admits he’s interested, he goes all out. Here’s how he tries to impress you:

1. Playful Teasing: Gojo loves to make you laugh. Expect playful remarks and witty comebacks whenever you’re around. His goal? To get you to blush.

2. Showing Off His Power: Gojo’s proud of his abilities, and he doesn’t hold back from showing off. From flashy demonstrations of his Limitless technique to skillful moves on missions, he always seems to be “casually” proving how powerful he is.

3. Grand Gestures: Gojo’s not one for small acts. If he learns about your favorite snack, he’ll buy a whole stash of it. If you’re stressed, he’ll invite you on a night adventure to see the city lights.

Continuing from where we left off with Gojo’s approach:

4. Constant Presence: Gojo wants to be around you as much as possible. He’ll always find a reason to sit next to you in class, join you on missions, or just “accidentally” bump into you between training sessions. He’s persistent and makes sure you notice him.

5. Playful Competition with Geto: Knowing Geto likes you too, Gojo can’t resist turning it into a friendly rivalry. He’ll challenge Geto to sparring matches, jokes, or even silly games to try and prove he’s the better choice for you, often with a smirk and a playful wink in your direction.

Geto Suguru’s Approach to Win You Over

Geto’s approach is more subtle, thoughtful, and grounded. Here’s how he tries to capture your heart:

1. Deep Conversations: Geto values getting to know you on a personal level. He’ll ask about your background, your clan, and your opinions on sorcery. These conversations make you feel like he genuinely cares about who you are beyond your technique.

2. Small, Thoughtful Gestures: Geto isn’t flashy but remembers the small details, like your favorite tea or if you’re having a hard day. He’ll quietly leave a comforting note or share a peaceful place he’s found on campus with you. His kindness is understated but leaves an impact.

3. Protective on Missions: Though both he and Gojo are strong, Geto takes a protective role. He’ll keep a watchful eye over you, subtly stepping in to ensure your safety without making it obvious. It’s his way of showing you’re important to him.

4. Respectful of Your Space: Unlike Gojo, Geto gives you space to make your own choices. He never pressures you to spend time with him, trusting that if you like him, you’ll come to him. This gives him a calm confidence, which contrasts with Gojo’s more in-your-face approach.

5. Gentle Rivalry with Gojo: Geto handles the “competition” in a reserved way, knowing Gojo’s personality. While Gojo’s approach is loud, Geto’s is quieter—he focuses on creating genuine moments with you that show his sincerity, confident that his authenticity will speak for itself.

Gojo and Geto were unbelievably close, and you helped them realize their feelings for each other and get together. They were six months into their relationship before they added you.

[paranormal-peri]

Hey! Just wondering how’s the chapter progress going! Also how’s school atleast for me the first quarter is almost finished and so many tests and projects 😭 very fun and stressful 😀

Anyways just checking up on u :)

Paranormal Peri: Chapter 12 SNEAK PEEK!

Knock Knock

"Wanda? Cosmo? Are you there?"

Hazel waited at her neighbor's door for an answer.

She's been trying her best to not interrupt their search. They've been so worried about finding Peri.

"H-Hazel?! Oh! Uh, yeah we are here! Did you need something?"

Wanda spoke through the door.

"I was just wondering how you guys were doing, did you find Peri?"

"Uh, hold on, just give us a second… Where did I put my wand…? OH!"

Sounds of tripping. Something crashed down.

“Oh! Wanda, my wife! Are you ok?! Don’t worry, I’m coming over there!”

“Cosmo, wait! No!”

More sounds of tripping. There was a louder crash.

"What's going on?! Hello?"

Hazel opens the door.

A few miscellaneous papers escape out to Hazel's feet as the door opens.

Hazel is astonished to see the huge mess before her. The room was highly cluttered with stacks of custom papers printed with the word "Missing" that varied in heights. Most were taller than Hazel, which made it hard to see the edges of the room. It was like walking through the tall grass of a safari. Hazel tried to walk through the mess at the door, to search for her fairies in the jungle of disorganization, only to reveal how much deeper the clutter went.

A trashcan in the corner was overflowing with crumbled scrap papers of failed drawings and ideas. The center of the floor was entirely decorated with a chaotic spiderweb pattern of red string and pins that connected photos, files, and sticky notes that laid on top of eachother. It was a web of possible leads that must have started on the wall, but had extended to the floor for more need of space. Speaking of space, even the ceiling was messy; There were hoops of red string that swooped down like party decorations that connected one pinned paper to the next on the ceiling above.

Being careful to not step on anything important, Hazel worked her way through the limited small spots of empty space; she was lucky to have small feet for this. Behind the barely-recognizable couch, she found her fairies.

Wanda and Cosmo on the floor dizzy from the trip. Two previously tall stacks of papers now lay scattered below and on top of the pair

"Whoa, what happened here?"

"Ah! Watch your step!"

"Oop-!"

Hazel quickly redirects her footing.

Hazel reaches down and picks up the paper she had almost stepped on.

It was a hand-written poster with an old photo taped over a failed drawing of their son.

Hazel read the paper in her head. The poster had large bolded red words that read "MISSING: PERIWINKLE FAIRYWINKLE COSMA"

Below the title was a long description that turned into a writing expressing their sorrow and love and pleading for their beloved son's return. The hand-written poster's writing fades into smaller and smaller text at the end to fit in many more words; they had so much to say. It was bittersweet how much they deeply cared about their missing son.

They were equally heartbroken.

"Wow, you guys have been busy."

"Haha, what do you mean? We're cool, we're fine, yeah yeah, totally calm and chill"

"Yeah yeah, we're uhh… what’s it called…? Straight vibing! Very chill!"

Wanda and Cosmo tried to mask their dread, but their eyebags and state of their house did nothing to reflect that.

Another pile of paper falls over in the silence for comedic effect.

It's not just the house that's a mess.

"You still haven't found Peri?"

"Nou..."

The couple breaks in a squeak with big wet eyes

"We haven't gotten a wink of sleep, how can we?!"

"We don't know what we are missing. We've been calling everyone we can in Fairy World all night and we still can't find any leads!"

"Hmm… maybe you guys should get some fresh air, that always helps me clear my mind!"

"You're right Hazel, we should get some good wind blowing in here, that will get our minds spinning right!"

Wanda remarked. She grabbed onto her wand previously lost under the couch, and poofed to the nearest lightswitch and flicked on the fan without thinking.

The fan began to spin. They all noticed the deep mistake made.

Not only did papers begin to fly and scatter around the room, but the fan suddenly caught onto some of the red string that hooped down on the ceiling. The red string quickly became tangled in the fan as it kept spinning faster. Pins that previously held down string and paper at points went flying to different parts of the room, Hazel ducked down to avoid the crossfire.

Wanda flicked off the fan to prevent further damage, but it was too late; the entire line of connected clues soon all became undone and scattered with the spin of the fan.

"Oh dear."

Hazel poked her head out from the sea of scattered paper that filled the room.

Cosmo did the same, but his face was covered in pins.

"Oh Cosmo, are you hurt?"

Wanda swam over.

"No… except for my heart."

The couple wept in each other's arms.

"Are we never going to find our little Poofie?"

—————

I love writing these adorable idiots sm.

We aren’t gonna get much Peri in this chapter, but we are going to get very important scenes with the other characters as we see them beginning to solve the case of their dear missing Peri.

Also… we will see how Irep is tied into this complex storyline. Things will continue to get deeper.

[joelsflower]

you’re so vain | eddie alden x f!reader

you and eddie are roommates and work at the same newscast… but the news aren’t the only things you’re reporting together.

or

some moments sfw and nsfw between you and your ‘friend’ eddie

warnings: sexual and romantic tension, eddie is a munch, they love each other but won’t admit, funny silly goofy moods, pussy eating in public/work place (the door was locked no one saw it), protected piv… while it’s raining outside… and you make love while still not admiting your feelings… the fwb drill we all know and love

a/n: hmmm did someone ask for… fwb!eddie? ☝🏼cause i did!!!

wc: probably around 2.3k i wrote it here sorrys !

the pictures are from this post and this post by @divinesols (both highly recommended as moodboards for this btw!) and i couldn’t find the creator of the gif :/ if anyone knows pls let me know so i can tag!

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“And… cut!”

“We had a bigger audience tonight. Looks like you’ve finally managed to draw the public’s attention.” You handed Eddie a smirk and a cup of coffee while he took off his earphones.

“I always draw attention, baby” he took it and winked at you, taking a sip but immediately making a face of disgust indicating the sugar that was not there.

You knew exactly how he wanted it, but you loved pissing him off.

“And you always brings me the coffee the way you know I don’t want it,” he said as he paced to the studio’s kitchen, followed by your fast steps behind him.

“Ops! And I don’t always bring you coffee, I jus-“

“You just happened to be passing by the coffee shop. Mhmm. I know,” he mocked your tone and expressions, “and you also just happen to be thinking of me all of the time, hm?” He pinched your nose.

You gave him an annoyed look, “well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mr. Alden!” You said jokingly, pronouncing the “Mr. Alden” with very much cursive letters.

“Don’t call me that… At least not here.” You were always impressed by the way Eddie could manipulate the look in his eyes to translate exactly what he was thinking about. And, 99,9% he was only thinking about one thing.

Sex.

“Oh I’m not calling you that anywhere, believe me”

“Hmm, cause you rather scream my name, huh?” He raised his brows at you in a funny way, using his arms to cage your body between his and the kitchen counter while swaying a little, making you laugh in that way he loved; when your eyes squeezed together and your head hanged back with a big grin on your lips.

He just loved seeing you happy, specially if he was the reason. When was he going to admit it to you? Probably never.

“Eddie, Jesus! Not here!” Now both of you were laughing unglued his hands from your sides and pushed him away, giving him light taps on the chest.

“Alden, newsroom wants to see you.” Someone from the staff peaked from the door, causing your bodies to distance from each other at the speed of a Formula 1 car, him pretending to still put sugar on the coffee and you weirdly looking for something in the sink.

“I’ll be there in a minute, thank you,” he nodded his head, “wait for me tonight,” he smirked and taped your bum lightly, making you jump.

“Oh yeah bet on it,” you gave him a teasing tone.

“I’ll be watching you,” Eddie motioned his point and middle fingers from his eyes to yours, already by the door.

“That’s cause I always draw attention!”

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Oh… fuck-“, you tried your best to whisper half of the depravations that were slipping from your lips and to swallow the other half that were stuck in your throat.

But it was very hard when Eddie had you sitting by the end of his desk, skirt up and legs spread wide upon his shoulders so his head could sit perfectly between them.

“So sweet, princess,” his praises were muffled against your throbbing clit, both of his hands hardly squeezing the sides of your thighs. He spent the whole morning dreaming about the taste of your pussy, and by lunch he couldn’t wait anymore.

“W-we have five minutes, Ed,” your worried little mind kept you looking every 5 seconds towards the foggy glasses on his door, but this time got interrupted by your eyes screwing shut and your mouth hanging open in a silenced cry when Eddie quit the sucking in your bud to fuck your hole with his tongue.

“I- we-,” every time you tried to say something and your words died in muffled little moans and cries he sucked and fucked harder. Eating you out was for sure one of Eddie’s favorite things and making you come when you couldn’t scream or cry freely was like a reward for his tiring day.

Having the opportunity to give you pleasure and piss you off at the same time? He was in.

“C’mon baby, cum on my tongue, hm? Wanna taste my girl,” he used two of his fingers to spread your wetness all over your center before nuzzling his head back again, nose stimulating your clit while his tongue entered you hungrily, in and out, in and out, the vibrations of his moans exploding fireworks in your veins.

The man was devouring you.

You came in a quiet moan, fingers gripping Eddie’s roots while his nails dig in your upper thighs and his face drowned in your cunt. He sucked and lapped you clean, until you were too sensitive to bear anything else, “fuck, thank you, baby. Here,” he gave you a paper tower from the adjoining bathroom he had in his office and helped you put your panties and skirt back. If you didn’t already knew all too well the smirk he had on his face you’d think by that he was something that he actually wasn’t.

A gentleman.

But deep, down, he was. For you, at least.

“Can you stand?”

“You have done better performances”

“Oh of course. ‘oh, fuck! Eddie! so good! we have 5 minutes!’” he joked while pulling you in for a see you later hug and a kiss on the cheek before you could run away from him, “thanks, bub. Best lunch ever”

“You’re disgusting,” you laughed, pushing his chest and stepping towards the door.

“If I was I wouldn’t have your pussy all over my face now, would I?”

“Disgusting,” you mouthed and closed the door, not giving him time to fry your braincells that had just started working again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Shhh. Almost there, baby. You can take it, just a little more”

“So good,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips while the raindrops slipped down your window.

Your plan definitely wasn’t to end up under Eddie tonight, but the thunderstorms got louder than you thought they would. And as it always happens between the two of you, one thing led to the other, and…

“Fuck- found your spot, pretty girl? So good t’me,” Eddie was fucking you tonight. You didn’t know if it was because of the rain painting your frames with the moonlight, the fact that it’s been a little while since you’ve slept together or if he found it cute every time you shivered and gripped his biceps cause a thunder was a bit too loud.

His cock was nestled deep inside your walls, messaging your favorite spots with each thrust. He was going slow, fierce, calculated, and he had all the patience in the world.

You could feel him everywhere.

From his fingers in your scalp to his hot tongue slow dancing with yours to every vein rubbing your walls deliciously. Sometimes his dick split out because of how wet you were together and he didn’t even bother, he kept fucking your clit with his tip, up and down, up and down, making you see stars until he felt you couldn’t take it anymore and tucked himself back in. His words? Praises and praises and praises hanging from his lips like sugar. You’ve never felt so full and so… Adored.

“Yeah, c’mon princess, can feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. Think you can come now, baby?” Eddie slowed even more his pace to watch your face contort in pleasure while tears fell down your eyes, every pulse of your warm cunt around his cock sending him closer and closer to the edge. You came within seconds, nodding your head “yes” while your little pants and moans being muffled by his own, your mouths tangled while he came with you, filling the condom you help him put earlier on.

Both of you had - intentionally - little to no sex like that; but it happened. And when it happened, it was usually because you either lost yourselves or one needed so much. You tried not to be too much in your head about it, but it was difficult when Eddie kissed your forehead and played with your head, still inside you.

He didn’t want to go, either.

“You don’t look so afraid of the noises now,” he tried to break the silence between you, knowing very well it wasn’t the awkward or comfortable types, but the emotional kind.

“The rain stopped,” you let out, with tears still leaking from your eyes.

“And are you sad about it?” he dried them from your cheek.

You smiled, “fuck you.”

“You just did,” he stared at you for a bit, caressing your cheeks as your eyes stopped watering and the last raindrops flowed down the window.

“Stay? It might rain again…”

You lifted your pinky between your bodies, “just this time,” and he embraced your smaller finger with his, “just this time.”

But both of you knew it wasn’t just this time.

It would rain again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

When your keys turned on the locket the last thing you expected was to meet Eddie eating ice cream directly from the pot at home 20:17pm on a friday.

Sitting on the counter.

Shirtless.

“…What are you doing here?”

“Uh.. I live here? I should be the one asking you that,” he motioned the spoon in your direction.

“Eddie, it’s 20pm on a friday,”

“Actually, it’s 20:17pm on a friday”

Yeah you weren’t doing this tonight.

“Fine, whatever.”

“Hey, what’s that?” His tone was softer, he always knew when you had a bad day.

And good ones too. And any kind of day you have had and exactly how he should react to it.

“Just… Pierce screamed at me again,” his eyes followed you as you took the wine glass out of the fridge.

“So… She did her job cause you weren’t doing yours…”

“Try again,” you poured a glass.

“She’s just a bitch who can’t let you do your work without complaining about whatever shit she caused”

“Bingo!” You swallowed the whole wine in one go, watching through the glass as Eddie’s hand reached for it and took it from you, “no no no, this will not help you.”

“And what will? Being dumped by a freshman college girl and Ice cream?”

He gave you a disappointed look but reached for your hands anyway, “come here,” he pulled you to his body, arms embracing you while you positioned yourself in between his legs, head resting on his chest and arms around his waist.

“You know what you really need?” His words were muffled on the top of your head.

“Hm?”

“To shut the fuck up”

“You shut the fuck up” now your words were muffled on his chest.

“I know you don’t mean it. You love me.”

“Sure”

And actually you sure as hell did. And he loved you too. When were you going to admit it to each other?

Probably never.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

[wandixx]

I'm not much for naming things but: Danny's associated with green and M'gann's a White Martian, so... Spearmint (like the green and white mint candies)? Just a thought.

Prompt: Magic removed Amity Park from the map. JL didn't notice, but in an Alderaan type moment (Star Wars ref. yay!) The martian on Watchtower monitoring duty heard the residents get silent unanimously.

Of course they need to be investigated! So M'gann gets her watch partner to take over and flies there, discovering an odd green rift of death energy doing a black hole effect and it sucks her in. Danny gets landed on/ flown into when she tumbles through the rift. She tried getting a message through to JL when she felt herself getting sucked in, but the message was not received due to ectoplasmic interference.

So Danny has to figure out how to get her AND Amity Park back home!

(Just a thought. I'm curious how you flesh it out if you do!)

This is such an interesting idea, and it definitely deserves much more story than I can write in single prompt, so this here is just a beginning and I will continue. I hope it's up to your expectations

Also, I really love the Spearmint idea

*****

M’gann understood the importance of monitor duty in Watchtower, she really did. She also understood why they were taught it while still in this gray area between fully dependent sidekicks and fully independent heroes, that was the main reason the Young Justice Team even existed.

It didn’t make it any less boring. Even when she had a decent duty partner. Don't get her wrong, Green Arrow was a much better option than Batman or Superman, it was just awkward. At least he seemed equally done with it and didn't scold her for jumping between satellite cameras just a bit too fast to actually ‘monitor’ anything.

And it was only twenty minutes into the two hour shift.

One of the sixty (or so) screens, the one directly in front of her, blinked to the view of the American Midwest. She was about to skip further, when a sudden movement caught her attention. She clicked a few keys to review the footage and asked, still unsure if her eyes weren't deceiving her.

“Did the entire city… just disappear?“

Green Arrow nodded, equally stunned.

“I'm going to check this out” she spluttered, already flying out of the room and doing her best to get Zeta to send her as close as possible. It was a bit tricky when she couldn't see the keyboard. She managed though, so before the adult hero even finished yelling that it was above her skill level, she was out.

From there, getting to the disappeared city was a piece of cake.

She stopped right in tracks when the thing came in view. M'gann had no idea how to describe it. It was a green and white and black storm but not, glass, see-through dome but not, deep space but also decidedly not. It made her want to run away but also come closer, almost like it was tugging at her. Like some pseudo, mental in nature, gravitation.

Oh, wait, no. It was an actual, physical force that after a quick test turned out to be inescapable for her.

Green Arrow, perhaps, maybe probably was kinda right. It was so high above her skill level that a balled napkin from this height would cause serious damage. Thank Batman for comms that she could use to call a backup!

The comms, that, of course, didn't work the one time she needed them.

She sent the message anyway, describing everything to the best of her ability, even though it was only a tip of the iceberg. Just in case, if the magical storm thing just made her comm one way communication only. It was highly unlikely, but who was she, if not an optimist.

She barely closed her mouth, when she was jerked sideways before the whole world became blurred.

She later would have a hard time telling anyone how it felt, to be inside the thing. She was basically powerless, thrown around randomly despite clearly keeping all of her abilities. She couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up and down, couldn't change direction even a little bit. The rumble of the thing was so loud she couldn't hear her thoughts, throwing her brain so off the loop she forgot what her name was. She was crying probably, almost puking, her limbs hitting any and every part of her body.

At first, she didn't even realize she was out, so dazed from the ride. She didn't even see the flying boy until a while after she crashed into him, throwing them both off the sky. Neither of them caught them before they slammed into the ground. Somehow she ended up cushioning the boy's fall. M’gann couldn’t breathe for a moment. She kinda deserved it for ramming into him in the first place though.

By the time she could use her lungs and behave like a social creature again, the boy scrambled off her and just crouched, intensely staring, anxious and awestruck at the same time. She sat up and gave him once over herself.

He was around her physical age, but much skinnier than her or anybofnher teammates, build like a twig. He had fluffy, white, almost glowing hair, caucasian complexion, and wore a black and white jumpsuit with a tool belt. Big ‘P’ on his chest indicated he was someone from a hero/villain scene, and from general vibes she got, M’gann was leaning towards a hero. He was kinda cute. She coughed awkwardly when she realized how long they just sat in silence.

“Hi?”

Apparently it was enough to release an incoherent babbling from the boy.

“Hi, um… Miss Martian, ma'am? I'm Phantom. What are you doing here? Is the rest of your Team going to fall off the sky too? Justice League?”

“Not right now probably”

She was ignored. Phantom just kept panicking.

“Is this some of your villain's schemes? Are you alright? You crashed pretty hard, sorry I landed on top of you by the way, do you–?”

“I'm fine, don't worry I got worse”

“Sure…”

“Sorry I threw you off the sky”

“Not your fault, really, it's fi–”

“You asked what I'm doing here. I went on my own to investigate when I saw the city blink out of existence and got sucked in. I'm not sure if my report from site made it through, but they know where I went, so they'll soon come to help, don't worry”

Phantom did not stop worrying.

“Alright, cool, cool” he ran his hand through his hair, tugging at them “The Justice League knows you mysteriously disappeared along with an entire city. This is fine, totally fine, absolutely–”

“You're panicking”

“No shit Sherlock. Someone kidnapped my city again and I have no idea how to fix it because my usual tactic is ‘punch the cause of the problem into submission’ and this time I can't punch the storm. Now you're here so if something happens, I’ll have pissed of Justice League to worry about because, of course, it will be my fault. You could be overshadowed and I have no clue what's going on but I have to fix it as soon as–”

“Breathe Phantom“ she interrupted again, projecting what the Team called ‘calming vibes’. Since it didn't involve outright entering someone's brain and humans almost didn't react to it, it was an okay thing to do without asking even on non-villains. “Remember, I'm a hero, not a damsel in the distress you have to protect non stop”

“Of course, you're not. You're Miss Martian. You're amazing, but it doesn't give me any more of an idea on what's going on nor what to do with Justice League when they come, obviously furious because everyone in Amity and their mother will testify that it was somehow my fault, especially if–”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I know you're a good guy and they’ll too. I will vouch for you if for some reason they get misled”

Phantom looked her in the eyes as if he was trying to read her mind himself without even an ounce of psychic powers. She could tell if he used it.

“I could be a bad guy,” he said seriously after a moment of silence.

“I know you're not”

“You don't know me”

“You spent almost all of our interaction agonizing over how to save your city. It's not typical bad guy behavior”

“I could be acting”

M’gann didn't even dignify it with her response other than an incredulous stare.

“ Alright, if I've been acting, I would be a lot cooler but still… I could be acting!”

“I'm a literal psychic, remember? I didn't read your thoughts, don't worry, I know it's invasive for humans. But I got a general overview of who you are, and your vibes matched pretty well with the vibes of good guys”

“Sure, of course, why not,” he muttered, taking a moment to reboot “Why is this my life now?”

M’gann decided it wasn't to her and well… Phantom wasn't wrong, she didn't know him, so however she'd try to answer it was pretty much hit or miss. But from what she'd seen of him, she was curious to learn more.

“Nevermind, let's get you a Specter Deflector before anyone tries to use you as a meatsuit” he said, catching her wrist to drag her somewhere.

She let him lead her. He still didn’t have any nefarious reasoning, and hey! Maybe she'll finish this adventure with a new teammate!

[Sure M’gann. Just a teammate. Don't worry, Danny won't be a panicked mess all of the time here]

[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)))

[moregraceful]

my hot take as a person with an english degree and a library degree is that some of the dorkiest fiction and poetry ever committed to paper in the english language came out of the iowa writer's workshop so it is at best goofy and at worst completely futile to argue that your average amazon unlimited writer is having a more deleterious effect on literacy and literature.

[bumblingbabooshka]

[TUVOKTOBER: Day 15] At First Sight. [Patreon | Commissions]

[justgayrevolutionnaries]

Of snowflakes and revolution

My gift for @fructidors for the @drinkwithme-exchange ! I was more than happy to make another fic for you, this time I wanted to focus on Grantaire an Jehan and I had so much fun writing about them, I hope you enjoy <3

This one takes place in canon era, a few weeks before the Barrière du Maine episode.

Read it below or find it on Ao3 !

February 1832

“You know, my friend, since you forced me to go out, I feel the least you could do is look happy I obliged.”

Jean Prouvaire’s words seemed to be met with an immediate success, as the man facing him, though he didn't assume the happy look expected of him, was effectively snapped back to reality and considered him with an ironic stare.

“I would apologize, but I should have thought you would be more than eager to look out that window yourself - are you not the same one who would rather talk about the shapes of the clouds than listen to Enjolras pestering us with practical matters ? I am curious what you should have to say about the snow out there.”

In Grantaire’s defense, although he was not usually one to admire the landscape, it was not everyday you could find Paris under the snow, and both of them had a feeling they should revel in the occasion, as they did not know when they would come across such a view again - or even if they ever would. In fact, Prouvaire’s face as he called out to his friend was more bemused than actually upset, as he had barely been able to tear his eyes from the window himself since they had sat down at the Corinthe.

The pair would usually meet at Prouvaire’s apartment, although it was so messy these days that there was barely enough room for him to move around, let alone his imposing and exuberant friend. Not that it bothered the poet in the slightest, it seemed almost natural for him to live amidst a mess of worn out-books, pieces of paper filled with fragmented verses and various flowers all around, and since there was always a bottle of good wine to be found somewhere in this mess, Grantaire did not mind either. This time however, upon finding out that his friend had been so absorbed in his readings that he had completely neglected his mortal needs such as buying decent food, Grantaire had positively dragged him out of the building, claiming that “burying yourself in books will make you even more boring than Combeferre” and that he needed to go out immediately to prevent this unfortunate occurrence from happening.

Which was how the two of them had found themselves walking along the quays of Paris under the freezing wind, looking for a decent place to eat. The streets were cold, probably colder than they had been in years, and although this did not affect their enthusiasm in the slightest, all Jehan could think about was that they would not be able to show their faces at the Musain for weeks to come, as they would never hear the end of it if Joly was to catch them with a cold.

Either way, as one could have expected, their wandering had led them to the Corinthe ; the cabaret was not exactly an establishment that could be qualified a “decent place to eat at” but it seemed any other place would have felt wrong - at least that was Courfeyrac’s usual saying to justify their constant going back. Well, that and the fact the waiter here knew Grantaire so well that she immediately brought not one, but two bottles to their table- two bottles that the man had been eyeing with envy since they had sat down.

As he reached for one, however, Jehan immediately slapped his friend’s hand away, blatantly ignoring the offended look he was met with.

“I will remind you - do not give me that wounded look, capital R - I will remind you that I agreed to come only if you did not inebriate yourself before we even got the chance at a meal together.”

Grantaire merely wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought.

“Really, Prouvaire ? You, of all people, are going to tell me I am not allowed a drink today ?”

“Actually, I had expected my winning personality was enough to keep you good company - in fact, I shall take great offense if I find you brought me here only to immediately replace me with a bottle of wine. I should be upset, really. Positively vexed.”

The stern words only earned him a sarcastic look from his friend, who was used to Prouvaire’s theatrical lectures enough to know he did not mean one word of it.

However, though the redhead enjoyed teasing his friend about this subject, the truth was that being around Prouvaire had an unexpected effect on Grantaire. While the man was ever the most likely to grab a drink, and had drunk himself to oblivion more than once after a disdainful look from Enjolras, Jehan’s presence often sufficed to help him sober up. Not that the poet himself did not enjoy a drink, he was never the last to hold a glass of good wine to his lips, but he somehow seemed able to soothe Grantaire’s temperament with his mere words - after sharing a meal with the two of them, even Courfeyrac had marveled at the man’s sober self, effectively assigning Jehan the name of a “miracle worker”.

As if to acknowledge this, Grantaire’s eyes softened as he answered :

“And I am more than grateful for that company, Prouvaire. Although I think you are avoiding my question.”

At this point he took a solemn face and leaned in closer, earning him a puzzled look from Jehan.

“You will have to remind me what question you are talking about, R. I am afraid you were not the only one not paying attention.”

Grantaire leaned in even closer if that was possible and, whispering dramatically, he asked :

“What about the snow ?”

Prouvaire smiled as he understood what his friend meant. He leaned back into his chair, taking a puff of his pipe as he assumed a pensive look.

“The snow, uh ? A white mantle that comes to cover our whole city, petals white and pure, as if they had been sent by the gods themselves. For all we know, Chione could still be the one blowing snowflakes down until they reach us, so small and yet all chiseled by her hand, one by one. ”

“Is that all ? You are letting yourself go, Prouvaire. I expected more of-”

Grantaire burst out laughing as Jehan threw his hat at him, deliberately missing his face.

“Would you just let me think, you heathen !”

He closed his eyes to better concentrate, deciding that his friend’s ironic smile was not helping him at all.

“City asleep in the silence

Footsteps of a ghost in the night-”

“A ghost, really ? It seems to me those appear every time you try and write a verse about anything.”

“And why should we not talk about spirits ?” Jehan countered. “They are all around us. But if you have better inspiration, feel free to share it ; I shall be glad to hear what you have to say.”

Though caught off guard, Grantaire was more than happy to oblige.

“Snow falls from the sky like sparkles in the dark- no, this one doesn’t feel right. Keep going, you are better at this than I am.”

“No, no, wait, you had a good one with this. Snow falls down from the sky, sparkles in the dark / Black and white as far as my eyes can see…”

Here the poet stopped for a moment as he seemed to come back to reality, and he blushed slightly at the pride written on Grantaire’s face.

“I can keep going, if you want me to,” he said almost timidly.

“Of course you could. You seem to have a gift for this, you know. Poetry- your sensitivity seems to come almost naturally in your words.”

“You are not so bad with words yourself, my friend. You should consider coming by to help us write a speech, one of those days.”

Though light-hearted and seemingly nonchalant, the offer was merely met with a disdainful scoff from the man facing him.

“A speech ? So I can stand by and make a fool of myself with nonsense while Enjolras tells me to go home ? I don’t see what use I could be there. You should know by now your speeches mean near nothing to me.”

As Jehan was about to answer, his eyebrows furrowed, he found himself choking on the smoke of his own pipe. His friend seemed used to this occurrence, as he began softly patting the redhead's back with a bemused smile.

“I am a lost cause, Prouvaire. You should go waste your time on someone else. Besides, you should know Enjolras would never allow me in the vicinity if he is writing a speech to rally workers - or whatever it is you are trying to do - I would only spoil his credibility.”

“Grantaire, I have seen you go on for hours about the most beautiful of subjects - do you think I don’t remember that time you made up a limerick in just a few seconds, with only a candle for inspiration ? Your problem is not your style of speech, because you are splendid at it, it is merely your convictions.”

The suddenly serious tone of the poet was not lost on Grantaire, who leaned back in his chair to consider him thoughtfully.

“That is quite the compliment you are giving me here. Where are you going at with this flattery, if I may ask ?”

“I heard Enjolras is looking to make a census a few weeks from now- he believes it could be of use soon. He may be looking for someone to go to the Barrière du Maine, and I believe you are a familiar of Richefeu’s.”

Jehan understood he had got his friend’s interest as he saw, for the first time, a glint of surprise in his eye.

“You really have thought about this, have you not ?”

“What I am trying to say is, if you want to be taken as seriously as you deserve, you have to show what you are capable of. I believe you should try and convince Enjolras to let you go, just this once. You might even find you actually have beliefs- whether you are willing to admit it or not.”

As Grantaire opened his mouth to try a last word of protest, he added :

“And if you still think I was wrong about this then, I promise to buy you a meal to make up for it- and a decent one this time.”

Lost in his thoughts, his friend did not answer him immediately ; and when he did his response was lost in the noise of the conversation surrounding them. However, Jehan’s words seemed to have worked like a charm at reinvigorating Grantaire, as when the two of them finally left the café, he was engaged in one of those soliloquies not even Jehan dared to interrupt.

“Your friends may despise me, but I will have you know I am more than capable of starting a revolution if I put my mind to it. I should like to think I am not an idealist, what good did that ever do to anyone ? I refuse to die for your revolution. Prouvaire says I shall become a mere spirit too one day. I call this nonsense. Men will take a look around, and the snow bothers them no more than the sun ; still they talk of battles and oppression. I am more than happy to say I will leave the guns and the glory to you, my friend - although I shall personally be very disappointed to see a gun in your hands. You are, like me, a man of sentiment, and we shall-”

Grantaire’s grandiloquent speech was cut off abruptly as the wind caught a hold of his hat, causing it to fly off along the boulevard, a few feet before the two men. He swore profusely as he began running after it, followed by the redhead who was laughing heartily, turning his face upwards to feel the snow landing on his skin.

God, Jehan loved snow. He really wished they would get to see it fall again - next year, hopefully.

[stinkrascal]

dont think i’ll be able to finish editing n begin posting the vlad/brie backstory reprisal by the 31st like i hoped i would 🤒

[irregularbillcipher]

going over old fic notes and outlines and character talks with friends and it's always really funny when i get to the stuff i was developing early-mid 2019 where bill just literally kept kryptos around to rag on, and he genuinely just. did not like the man. like was just completely annoyed with his general existence. boy have things changed

[harkingspot]

jrand: holy matrimony

since i have the unfortunate inability to write a full-on PROPER fanfic. please have this strangely formatted fic thing??? *hands this to you* WEDDING DAY JRAND!!!

(super angst and sad, i mean when is it NEVER)

it was a beautiful day. a beautiful ceremony for two beautiful people. everyone was happy... well not everybody

jr scheimpough was going through a crazy rollercoaster of emotions- he was supposed to be happy, HIS BEST FRIEND WAS GETTING MARRIED!!!

but god why did it hurt so bad??

as everyone started to show up, all he could do was sit down and gaze at his own reflection from the wine he’d been carelessly swishing around

‘this shouldve been my ceremony. this was supposed to be us’ he thought dangerously. this was not the time, his brain scrambled to dig the thoughts deeper down

“have you seen rand anywhere?” snapping back from minutes of zoning out, the question grazed his ear. he was so engulfed in his own sadness he didnt bother to see who’d asked him

all he could think about now was: rand ridley

his best friend, the biggest asshole he’d ever met. it was hard to like him but it was even harder for jr to hate him

charismatic and smart. knew how to slither his way out of problems with his genius. he was someone he’d looked up to for a long time, though he could never admit it

he could never admit anything beyond his “joking-yet-not-joking” hatred towards his friend and partner

‘partner... oh how beautiful it’d be if the word business didn’t accompany it’ jr thought dangerously again.

this wasnt a time to be sad. his best friend was missing at his own wedding and he had to find him. though, in his defence, he’d been trying for years. to find rand ridley

“right yeah, ill go find him” without tearing his gaze away, jr stood up and began walking. mindlessly. he already knew where rand was

he was hiding. no. avoiding the altar

when jr found him, rand was shaking. pacing around. grunting. he’d never been this worried before. not even with the immense load of mistakes he’d made at cognito

he didn’t want to do this. rand ridley didn’t want to get married.

in rand’s mind, it was never about the commitment (though it really is) it was about himself. he’d never liked himself, which to be fair, there’s not many things about him TO like in the first place

“rand, what the hell are you doing?” “i can’t do this jay. im going to fuck this whole thing up. i always do- WHAT IF WE HAD CHILDREN??? I COULD NEVER-”

jr held his hand. tightly. an act of desperation, fearing to let his best friend go- hidden by an intimate gesture

“you can do this. sure you fuck things up a lot but you always find your way, that’s just who you are”

rand ridley didn’t want to get married. no that wasn’t right. rand ridley wanted it, but he wanted it with someone else. his best friend. scheimpough.

but it was too late...

a hug was all he could offer. neither could see it but both men longed for each other and it was written all over their face. 

in another time, this could’ve been their own ceremony. where they could invite nobody because nobody mattered. and all they had to do was drink, dance, sing loudly, and just... find comfort in one another.

but it was too late...

the ceremony was undoubtedly beautiful. pictures were taken. tears were shed, out of happiness and regret.

when the reception came, jr couldnt do it anymore. he reached his limits and it was time for him to go.

he delivered his speech, one full of fun anecdotes of their days in college and a few words about how he adored the man. that was the hardest part.

seeing rand be wedded to tamiko wasnt the hardest part for jr. the speech was, as he had to forcibly hold himself back from saying all the wrong things his mind could muster

he had to go and he had to go now. he didnt bother saying goodbye, not even to rand because it wasnt a goodbye- they were still partners remember? they still have time live side by side. just not together

on the drive home, he comforted himself: ‘and as long as the person you love is happy maybe you can be happy later’

the night was rough. jr made sure he didn’t drink too much at the party because he’d expected to drink much more at home. by himself, this time.

hours passed and he drank so much his liver had given up on begging for mercy

and it was that moment when he lied in bed starring at the ceiling, he turned to his phone that’d been blaring with notifications of multiple missed calls and messages from rand

“hey jay where are you?” “where did you go??” “did you go out for a smoke? im near the entrace can you see me?” “hello? jay pick up my call” “did you leave?” the thread of messages said

jr replied, out loud, to himself: “no, rand. you did. you left me” and blacked out

[little-eye-guy]

1700 words n_n

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[citricacidprince]

Could you draw that "I trust you" scene with Mabel and Stan but with the relativity AU? (The stan twins and pine twins swap ages au)

OF COURSE, I WILL GLADLY DRAW THEM!!! 💥💥💥

I’m gonna post a long winded thesis about my thoughts on this AU, my take on the AU, and two additional arts under the cut because ooooh boy it’s a tad bit long lol. Also, please please forgive the formatting, I’m writing this all on the fly and it’s extremely disjointed, sorry- 💥

I know there’s the ‘canon’ Relativity AU designs and character dynamics, however I don’t really like them that much ngl. I feel like it mostly just ends up with ‘Mabel and Dipper get switched with Stan and Ford with no nuances once so ever’ and that BLOWS!!! There’s so much potential there and no one is playing with it!! YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN HAVE MABEL PRETENDING TO BE DIPPER, WHATS THE POINT????

Not only that but I feel like making Dipper and Mabel’s dynamic just Ford and Stan’s when they’re adults is a HUGE simplification of their characters. Like, Mabel and Dipper fight, but they don’t fight like Stan and Ford, they’re not as hard headed and stubborn. Mabel would commit some crimes yes, but I don’t believe she would get into some of the heavy shit Stan had in his past. I refuse to believe Mr. Dipper ‘Undiagnosed Anxiety Disorder’ Pines would fall for Bill’s flattery as easily as Ford did.

The Pines Twins are very different from the Mystery Twins. Mabel and Dipper didn’t grow up with a father constantly comparing the two and pinning them against each other, outright telling one kid they’ll always be a failure while the other is going to have the burden of making their family rich. They never had that tension. They wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around eachother as adults.

I know that makes the concept sound boring to some, ‘Where’s the fun in the AU if you take away the sibling fighting’. You cowards, you can still have it, young Stan and Ford are RIGHT THERE. During the second half of the show when Dipper comes back through the portal, instead of having the older set of twins, something that doesn’t male sense with their characters, have a building tension that’s going to explode soon and keep it between Stan and Ford, don’t take it away from them. If anything, I think taking away the resentment and anger growing between the two and giving it to Mabel and Dipped is a butchering of all the characters.

Sure that means some of the episodes would have to change or be completely erased, but that’s fine!!! Make up some new ones!!! Get silly with it!!!

Mabel and Dipper talk about feelings, Stan and Ford don’t. Mabel and Dipper can’t stay mad at each other, Stan and Ford will try and stay mad for decades because being angry is easier than being upset.

In my idea of this AU that fight at the end of Weirdmageddon HAS to be between Stan and Ford, and Stan HAS to still be the one getting his memories erased.

💥 Post Not-What-He-Seems Relativity AU Rambling Below 💥

Dipper is a paranoid man, fool him once you’re never going to fool him again. He would never in a million years ever work with Bill again. Ford however is an extremely lonely child, both he and his brother are desperate for any type of positive attention. I think Bill would see him as a potential protege, especially since Ford is a ‘freak’ like he is and the kid is extremely smart for his age. He’s malleable, Bill probably thinks he could shape him uo to be the perfect lackey.

Ford, being the lonely kid he is, probably does fall for the praise initially. He craves attention and Bill pushes all the right buttons and says all the right words, tries and gains his trust even if time has proven again and again that he shouldn’t be trusting the demon.

The tension between the Stan Twins would grow after Grunkle Dipper comes back because Ford is upset that Stan didn’t listen to him (even if it was for the best that he did) and that Grunkle Dipper forgave Graunty Mabel so easily because if Ford was in those shoes he wouldn’t have. It grows more and more as Ford becomes distant and Stan tries to connect with his brother to no avail. Which, of course, comes to a boiling point when Ford says he’s going to stay in Gravity Falls and learn under Grunkle Dipper. Stan is rightfully upset. He can’t go back to New Jersey by himself. It’s always just been the two of them, he needed Ford, he couldn’t handle school or their father by himself. He can’t be alone.

Unlike Mabel who just wanted one more day of summer, Stan wishes that he wouldn’t be alone, which indirectly causes Weirdmaggendon.

Stan’s prison bubble would probably be a fake New Jersey-esc town full of a bunch of little Stans running around. Town O’ Stan. A place where no Stan is left behind.

Ford says some nice words to Stan there to get him outta there but there is still this intense tension between the two.

During the Cipher Wheel Ford is the one who tackles Stan. The two fight, whining out hurtful words neither of them mean and only stop when Bill shows up and captures them. Graunty Mabel and Grunkle Dipper run off and distract Cipher in hopes that they can keep the attention on themselves long enough that their great nephews could come up with a plan to escape.

The younger twins don’t find a way out and instead, finally, have an actual talk about their feelings, one that definitely ends up in tears as the two talk about the pressure that’s put on them or how worthless they feel. After that the boys get a rush of determination to escape when Stanley has a plan. Ford immediately hates the plan but Stan insists that they do it, in his own words, ‘Let me prove I can do something right for once.’

When Bill comes back and threatens to kill either Mabel or Dipper just for the hell of it, Ford calls out that he’d like to make a deal.

He wants to work with Bill, let Bill into his mind willingly. Bill immediately jumps on that offer. Ford is a promising young kid, perfect henchmaniac potential, not to mention it would absolutely devastate Dipper is his great nephew willingly turned to Bill’s side.

He goes into Ford’s head, revealing Stanley just in time to reveal that he was trapped, panicking as he was erased with a swift left-hook along with a kid who was happy to prove he was good for something after all.

Everyone was devastated after Weirdmaggedon of course, a child had his mind completely wiped. Stanford took it the worst, he just managed to finally break down those words that others built in his head, that he was too good for Stanley or that he didn’t need a knucklehead like him dumbing down his brain, and now his brother was gone. Just like that.

We all know what happens after this, Stan gets his memory back, everyone celebrates and the Stan twins are sent home, promising each other that they’ll never let anyone try and tear them apart ever again. Dipper and Mabel stay at the shack, after all, all they could ever want is there, where else could they possibly go?

Sorry this was… extremely rambly and long, I am extremely tired and can’t think straight I have a bunch more ideas and concepts so if anyone’s desperately wants to hear them just ask I guess, sorry you read this dumb of ass essay haha 💥