#i would write fanfic but idk how

[drstanfordpines]

stanford pines was traveling through the multiverse for thirty years and you’re telling me only a small handful of people have theorized anything about it??? there’s GOTTA be more of us out there WHERE ARE Y’ALL

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[myokk]

Eloise is really, really bad at chess😐

(this is a scene from my fic & I typed it up here:)

"Milady, you cannot send him there! He will surely die a terrible death, and Murdoch is our finest knight!"

Eloise blinked her bleary eyes at the wizarding chess board, not really comprehending what the tiny pieces were yelling at her. The one that seemed to be doing the most talking was gesticulating wildly and jumping up and down, trying to get her attention. When she had taken the pieces out of the box Sebastian had lent her, they had immediately recognized her and started protesting, appealing to 'their benevolent lord's innate sense of goodness', but their protests fell on deaf ears. Eloise was positive that Sebastian took some sort of perverse pleasure at watching her lose at chess.

In the background, she could hear Ominis's laughter echoing through the Undercroft. His own pieces were quite happy at the moment, preening and occasionally sending rude gestures towards Eloise's, much to Sebastian's amusement. He was narrating their every action to Ominis, whose laughter was egging on his soldiers even more.

"Eloise," Sebastian said, propping his chin up by one hand (entirely too amused, infuriatingly so, why did he have to look so handsome when she was trying to be annoyed at him?), "maybe you should move the knight..." his other hand pointed to an empty space on the board, "...here."

This declaration caused an uproar. There were shouts of betrayal, tiny pieces gesticulating wildly to the carnage surrounding the board as they shouted in vain. She didn't see any other viable moves, so Eloise sighed and ordered the brave little Murdoch to where Sebastian had suggested. Chaos immediately ensued and Ominis's queen gleefully knocked his head off with a violent swing of her scepter. Eloise's pawns all doubled over, sobbing as their most valient knight fell, and her remaining bishop shook his tiny fist in outrage up at her.

After a few more minutes, much to Eloise's ashamed relief and the boys' disappointment, her pieces refused to move for either her or Sebastian. They solemnly collected the remains of their fallen comrades with as much dignity as they could muster and marched off the board and back into their box in a mourning parade of sorts.

Sebastian joined Ominis's pieces as they jeered the losing team off the board, causing Eloise to glare fiercely at him. "You were the one telling me what to do, and they're your pieces! Show some loyalty."

He shrunk away from the intensity of her gaze and held up his hands in protest. "I was suggesting the moves as a joke! After last week's fiasco, I didn't think you'd fall for it again."

Ominis was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath, and the two of them turned to watch him. Even through her irritation, Eloise couldn't help but smile at him - he was always so solemn and these bouts of mirth were few and far between. He managed to speak between bouts of laughter. "I...I couldn't...I couldn't believe it when you sent your bishops one by one into my trap! It was so obvious! And then...and then you..." Ominis dissolved into fits of laughter again and couldn't finish.

Eloise turned her angry glare to him. "We can't all be chess geniuses!"

"I've tried teaching you and you don't listen! For the next time, I'm only going to give you one piece of advice: don't listen to Sebastian." He chuckled once more to himself and then turned slightly to the board, addressing his men (and queen) and giving them a debriefing. He always did this after he won the matches; it was a strange sort of ritual that he seemed to look forward to.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[wanderingpages]

peach!! can you write a car sex jurdan smut? it can be short but the concept is so sexy 😭 on my knees rn

∞

“You’re trouble,” Cardan had told me minutes prior, but he repeats it now, more wary than he had been when he said it by the bar. Maybe I had used him then, because it sounded like flirting to me and I so badly needed his help. It’s how I’d always gotten what I needed before. Maybe I thought he was no different, so I took him down to a hall no one ever used and pressed him up against the wall. I smiled at him, feeling shy from his attention but not wanting to admit it. My hands had wound around his neck, and his fingertips traced up my shoulder, guiding my hair to one side. He placed a kiss on my throat and I felt it in the pit of my stomach. Then further up he trailed his soft lips and I gasped. I gripped at his hair to guide his lips to mine. He tasted heady and like the scotch I had given him. Cardan had cradled the back of my head, tilting me as he pressed his tongue into my mouth to open and deepen the kiss. He felt like mine, I felt a little guilty answering his question.

“Jude,” he had murmured against my skin, kissing a patch from my mouth to my throat, then his lips were by my ears and he asked, “What do you want from me, princess?” When I told him, he immediately fell back, only half in a daze but vehemently shaking his no – but I won in the end, because here we are, where I asked to be. I feel only a little remorseful and he’s telling me I’m trouble again.

I tilt my body, trying to get a closer look at the scene, but no matter how much I shift and turn, I can’t quite make out who my father is with, nor what he’s saying. My finger absently finds the buttons on the side of the car, but before I can lower the window, Cardan takes hold of my wrist. I’m already practically on top of him, my knees bracing against the console from the passenger’s side, and a hand planted firmly onto his lap. So it shouldn’t bother me when he pulls me closer, tightening his hold on me. Cardan’s warm fingers encircle my wrists, his thumb right where my veins sing.

I’m alive, he should note. I give him a look, eyes unable to stray too far from his still pink and swollen lips. I did that, I think to myself. I wonder how many other can say the same. And then I realize I don’t actually want to consider that at all. Cardan narrows his dark eyes at me, “Don’t even think about it, Jude.” My name on his tongue always felt like sin, but it’s when he teases me with my pseudo-reign that I feel like penance should only a breath away.

“But -” my mouth feels dry, searching for excuses but he shakes his head, halting my explanation.

“We’re not even supposed to be here,” he seethes, “and if you think we’re not being watched right now, you’re sorely mistaking.” I find myself pouting when he firmly guides me back into my seat, forcing me to gather the rest of my surroundings. We’re in a secluded area, backroads lined with trash bags and oily pathways between buildings. My father is currently having a “business meeting,” as he explained before abruptly leaving. I’ve only ever seen business meetings that take place between alleyways in movies that involve the mob.

When I tell Cardan this, pointedly looking at my father’s silhouette, he gives me a dry kind of look I choose to ignore. So long as he’s looking at me, I suppose. He was left in charge of watching over the club in Dad’s absence, but we both knew it just meant watching over me.  I was working the bar tonight, a job my father now is incredibly annoyed with, despite the fact it had been his suggested punishment for my overspending a bit.

“Just because there’s no limit does not mean you get to test that theory, Jude.” I roll my eyes now, because jokes on him; I'm a hit at parties now that I know to mix drinks and do little flairs that I’m quite proud of. I like to impress Cardan with them when he leaves Dad’s office and orders something boring on the rocks. I’m nearly positive that’s the charm that had him following me to that hall and led to him driving me right where we are currently parked.

“Haven’t you heard the saying? Curiosity killed the girl.”

“It does not go like that,” I tell Cardan, unamused.

I’m no idiot, I know Madoc’s club is only half of where our family income comes from, and the guests he entertains in the VIP section are never just guests. Business partners maybe, buyers or sellers, I could never tell. It was the same as usual until Dad had gotten a phone call in the middle of his hosting. It had seemed as if he had been waiting for the call all evening. However, him leaving abruptly made me too antsy to stand idle and make vodka cranberries all night. It always felt like the entire staff was in on a big secret I wasn’t apart of. It didn’t help that lately, Dad had been a little worn down, coming home tired or frustrated, answering calls curtly, stuck in his own head looking haggard. I’m allowed to worry.

“You didn’t,” Cardan says, pausing the sudden gnawing I’d been doing on my bottom lip, “by the way. Your bar tricks are not what got you into my car.” I guess he’s a mind reader now too.

“You’re telling me you weren’t impressed with my juggling?” I didn’t even break a bottle this time.

He sighs, “you probably could have just asked and I’d taken you.” I raise an eyebrow, not believing him since even with all my womanly whiles and eccentric charm, I still had to plead with him to get out here. The side of his lip tilts up in a smirk. “I just like watching you beg.” He shrugs, “So, you would have begged.” His warm voice sends a shiver down my spine. “Maybe I would have gotten you on your knees.” He could still get me on my knees if he asked nicely, but I don’t tell him that.  Cardan glances out the window, making a face at the two men. “There’s no point in being here if you can’t even hear what’s being said.”

I nod at this, finding my composure. “Exactly, Mr. Greenbriar.” I grin, “We should move closer.”

“No,” he tells me. He fumbles for the lock but my door is swung open before he manages to press the button. His eyes widen, “Jude,” he scowls quietly when I give him a triumphant grin. Without waiting, I duck for cover, sneaking up closer to the building. “Fuck me,” I hear Cardan moan. “Jude, you idiot,” he mutters, silently getting out of the car and following me. When he’s caught up, he pushes me behind him as we near the corner of the building. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Are you not carrying?” I ask a bit startled. “Wait so that wasn’t a gun in your pocket? You really were excited to see me?” His hand comes over my mouth, and my eyes widen in shock, absolutely enthralled with the way he’s decided to manhandle me tonight. I’m always the one testing boundaries, so maybe my heart pounds a little faster at our proximity more than the shooters probably ready to gun us down – if Cardan is right about us being watched.

“Have you always been this bratty?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him instead of giving him an actual answer. He looks heavenwards before moving to stand behind me. One hand is now across my chest, the other still firmly over my mouth. I lick him but he doesn’t let off. “Of course, I’m armed, but I’m not Superman, princess. I don’t even think I have 15 rounds,” he says the last part more to himself, but that’s news to me anyways.

We lean closer to the alleyway, bracing our shoulders on to the bricks of the building. Whatever Dad and his friend are talking about is only slightly less muffled than before. Its longer than I expect to finally make out pretty keywords like “shipment” and “missing equipment,” and then something that has me ridged.

“You have three daughters don’t you, Madoc?”

“Don’t bring them into this,” Dad responds clearly. My heart beats even faster, I'm all too aware of Cardan’s palm searing hot against the unsteady thumping. He pulls me even tighter against him. Dad says, “I came in good faith to hear you out. You’re the one who lost my supplies.”

“You’re the one who lost two of my guys,” the other man counters, not really angry and seemingly uncaring for the men in question. He makes my skin crawl on sight alone.

“That’s not my -”

The other man holds up a finger, cutting my father off, offending me in the process. His phone had been ringing and Cardan stiffens, as the man answers, eyes still boring holes into my father. “Yes…really? Okay...” He hangs up and tilts his head, “Good faith? Someone’s tailing us.”

“I didn’t -” whatever my dad says, I don’t get to hear. Cardan is cursing, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me towards the car. It’s a struggle because my entire body wants to run to Dad, but the hold Cardan has on me is iron tight. A shot goes off and my body seizes. My eyes go so wide they hurt. I only wanted to know what Dad was hiding, wanted in on the big secret everyone knew but me – wanted some type of undeniable proof so he couldn’t brush this away, brush me away. More shots are fired and I’m too far to know who’s shooting at who.

Cardan pulls open the car door and shoves me in before rushing to the other side. I don’t even have my seatbelt on when he pulls out of the spot. I hear more bangs ricocheting and panic begins to set in, “Cardan! Dad -”

“He’s fine – Balekin wasn’t lying.”

“Balekin?”

Cardan doesn’t exactly answer me, but continues, “Madoc definitely brought back up. No good faith and all that.” He waves his hand and it freaks me out that both hands are not on the steering wheel. It also unnerves me that Cardan knows my Dad’s tells more than me. “We, on the other hand…” he trails off, shifting gears and stepping on the gas. My heart flies into my throat. I hurriedly manage to snap on the seatbelt, but even then, I don’t think that’ll protect me at all if Cardan decides to bend us into a tree or light pole or worse – another vehicle. “God,” he mutters, “you’re so reckless, Jude” he mumbles, “absolute fucking brat,” he continues. My cheeks flare pink but I hold my tongue, scared I might vomit if I talk. I grip at the leather seats so tight I feel my knuckles start to cramp. “And me – I follow you like a fucking dog.” Outside is a blur of lights and the night sky. I'm too scared to look at the speedometer but I know it’s beyond what the legal limit is. The one reprieve is that the road is clear for now.

“I think where in a fifty zone,” I finally manage in a squeak. Cardan side eyes me and I let out a yelp, “Oh my god, pay attention to the road!”

My hysterical tone eases him somehow, because he begins to relax. He eyes the rear view mirror and shrugs, taking a hand off the steering wheel again. My heart is beating so fast that my eyes seem to shake at every little pump. “We’re good,” he lets me know. He smirks at me and when I look sick at his lack of attention to the road, he tells me, “Crack the widow, let your hair down and all.” He does it for me with his free hand reaching to the top of my head, pulling at the clip securing my bun. It unravels just as the window slides down. Air gusts through my hair and stings my face.

My ears are filled with the rush of wind. “I…” My words are lost in the noise.

“It’s okay, princess, I’m a good driver,” he promises.

“What are you,” I manage, hoarse, “Dad’s getaway driver?” he shifts gears and I'm seeing double. Soon we’ll be doing donuts in the parking lot.

He shrugs, “When he needs me to be.” I remember what he said about curiosity killing the girl and that must explain the stroke I’m having. I feel like an idiot – a little girl trying to be much bigger than she is. What the hell would Dad even say if I go to him about tonight? He’d probably gaslight me. I shakily look back, wondering if we’re being followed. I calm when I see that its just us. “Do you trust me?”  

I nod my head and settle back into the seat. I try to get my mind off of this, thinking about our kiss from earlier instead. Had only an hour passed since then? I should apologize for leading him on only to get him here. Except I hadn’t really led him on. I’ve wanted Cardan since the moment Dad introduced us. I think him working directly under my father only fueled my desire more. It felt very taboo. However, those thoughts only race my pulse for a completely different reason. Slowly, I release my death grip on the seat and hold my hand out to Cardan. He raises a brow, but takes it anyway, letting me squeeze it tightly. “Yeah,” I whisper. I clear my throat, “I trust you.”

There’s a lot to take in, but I'm trying to stabilize my pulse instead. It’s like an onslaught of adrenaline wafting through me repeatedly and I can’t find a release. The car rolls to a stop just off the highway and into the cover of trees and shrubbery, This feels like an illegal spot to park, but what do I know? I watch in a stupor as the slim needle on the dashboard falls from somewhere in the hundreds down, down, down to 0. I find myself absolutely petrified but yet a giggle escapes me. Suddenly, I have this uncontrollable urge to laugh because if I don’t, I think I might cry.

“Are you okay?” Cardan reaches over and unclips my belt. He then brushes my hair back, forcing my gaze to his. He thumbs at my eyes, tearing up from the wind, and not at all because of the emotional turmoil I’m going through.

The rush that had been whipping past my ear had been halted so suddenly that my head begins to sway. I turn to look at him, uncaring for once how unput together I must look. “Dad…”

“He’s fine,” Cardan says again, sure of himself. “Are you?”

“Not dead,” I confirm, and he gives my hand a little squeeze. I give him a dazed look, and then, I smile softly at him. It must have been what he was waiting for. In one swift motion, Cardan tugs me over the console, guiding me to straddle is lap. My skirt hikes up and Cardan only pushes it up higher. There’s a pulse between my legs and when he pulls me down, his breath tickles my skin, filling me with heat all the way to the pit of my stomach.

“You’re okay,” he tells me quietly. “It’s okay, Jude.” I nod, placing my hands in his shoulder, fingers teasing at his dark curls. I stare at his neck, at the tendon there that I want to place my lip against. I bend down to do just that, letting his steady pulse beat against my skin. “Jude,” he murmurs, tilting his head to give me more access. When I press my lips on his skin, he sucks in a breath.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, leaning up.

His hands run up my thighs, and if I had survived a shootout and a lone speed race, I don’t think I can survive Cardan and the way he looks at me right now. “For what?”

“Using you?”

Cardan chuckles, and reaches one hand up, working at the buttons of my shirt. Slowly, he pushes it off my shoulders, letting the material fall to the floor, all the while he’s admiring the swell of my breasts, contained only by sheer white lace. He looks up at me, gauging my come down from the adrenaline. I’m still utterly tweaked, and every touch of his is no help at all. My skin is on fire everywhere his fingertips touch. He teases a digit over my breast, up my neck and to my chin, pinching it between his fingers and pulling me forward. “I don’t think it counts,” he tells me. “I would have done this anyway,” he reminds me.

“Oh,” is all I can say.

His lips graze against mine and there’s a heat pooling between my legs. I shift, only to find him already hard and straining in his jeans. “Tell me to stop,” he mouths against me. I don’t. My eyes flutter and I hold on to him tighter. I pick at the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them until my cool hands can press firmly to his hard chest. His muscle seem to tighten when I graze them. Cardan holds my wrist gently this time, guiding it further down to his navel. “Come on princess, tell me this is a bad idea.” I stay silent. Even if it was a bad idea, I won’t let it stop. “Then open your mouth for me.”

My lips part for him and when our tongues meet, Cardan moans softly. He pulls me in closer, nipping at my bottom lip, sucking on it until my toes curl. His hand on my thigh slides over my ass and between my legs from behind. His fingers deftly rubbing at the already wet cotton and I gasp out, arching my neck, letting him trace his tongue down my skin. He pulls down a strap of my bra with his free hand, meeting my eyes and keeping my gaze as he lowers his head to kiss the tip of my breast. I inhale when his tongue laves my nipple, drawing it into his mouth. He sucks gently at first, finger rubbing over me just as soft. Then, he tugs my underwear to the side, now parting my pussy just as he begins to suck on me harder.

He makes a noise that vibrates against my skin. I hold his head against me, nearly close to weeping. His teeth graze my skin and I jump, hitting my head against the ceiling of the car. He pulls away from me, his lips obscenely wet and his eyes lidded. He reaches up, rubbing my head before feeling the side of his seat and pulling a lever to slowly recline the seat. “Sorry,” he says and I laugh, despite the ache in my breast and the throb in my pussy. I bite at my lip and undo his belt. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me and my skin heats up. He pulls the other side of my bra down while I stroke his stiff cock. “Beautiful,” he repeats, I'm dripping between my thighs and his finger rubs me faster.

I go in for another kiss. Not short and sweet like I had been intending. This time Cardan kisses me rough and hard. There’s passion and ache between us. He reaches down to align the head of his cock where it needs to be. He rubs the tip between my slit with one hand, the other moves to come between us, rubbing soft circles into my clit. My knees strain on either side of him, and I let out a whimper when he teases the head shallowly. My hand finds his shoulders, and I cry out when he thrusts upwards, impaling me in one swift movement.

“Cardan!” My head falls forward, into his neck, and I try to muffle the cry into his skin. He gives me little time to adjust before he pulls out and slams back in. My muscles pulse when he pauses again, gripping him in spasms. He groans wrapping his arms around my back, moving me to his pace now, and I try to keep up with his steady pounding, but all I can find the energy to do is lay on top of him and take it as the length of him rubs every tender spot within me. I’m groaning and panting and he’s whispering my name.

“Jude…” my nipples feel so tender, brushing against his chest at every thrust, “God – you take me so good, don’t you?” I feel like I’m being spilt in two and its absolutely delicious. “Does that feel good, princess?”

“Yes,” I say, breathing hard. He thrusts into me harder, and harder and swear he’s rocking the car, but I want more of him, so much more. “Yes – Cardan…” my eyes get glassy, and I shut them tight, pressing my head onto his shoulder.  He slows down and grabs hold of my hair, pulling my head back. The slower he moves the deeper he seems to go; the tip of his dick kissing at my womb. I whimper, fingers flexing against his skin

“Look at me,” he whispers, sweat sheening his body now, slick and warm. His eyes are wild and full of lust and I'm so gone for him, so absolutely gone for this man. “Tell me,” Cardan requests in a slur. “Say it again.”

“It feels… so good,” I manage, “ah… more,” I beg and he’s ramming into me now, so hard and rough and then I say, “faster… please…” and it’s so frantic that I grab on to the headrest, bracing myself so I could take everything he gives me. There’s a tight knot at the pit of my stomach, and my cunt is dripping onto him. My heart hasn’t calmed down since the first gunshot but I find that I don’t mind the intense thumping anymore; it makes me feel so alive instead of being on the verge of death.

“Come for me, baby,” Cardan orders. He fucks me so recklessly, and his shaft rubs against my throbbing clit at every deep stroke. I feel delirious, holding my breath and clenching my stomach.

“Ah,” I cry out, back arching. His hand in my hair loosens to roam down my body. “I…Oh,” I bite at my lips, feeling the start of an orgasm that wouldn’t quite come. “I don’t know if I…” my confession trails off as I fall back with his guidance, careful not to honk the horn. He slows down again, torturing me. His finger finds my hardened clit and I scream when he presses down on it.

“You can,” Cardan lets me know. “You will,” he promises, in a breath. “For me, just for me.” My hands are frantic, unsure of what to hold onto. He pulls them around his neck, bringing me over him again. “I can go as long as it takes, princess,” he says into my ear before he kisses me there, then lower until his teeth latches on to the curve of my neck, all while fucking me hard and deep and so dirty, driving into me with little mercy. I’ve forgotten my name, it must be Princess with how much he says it. But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, just him being inside of me does.

He fucks me endlessly and I bite down on his neck, mirroring him, screaming when I come. It feels so intense, I see stars as I shudder uncontrollably.  Cardan cries out too, slamming into me one last time, his climax mixing with mine and it seems unending when I shudder again, tightening my thighs against his. I gasp again when my stomach clenches, “Cardan,” I whimper, slowly coming down.

Cardans hand brushes down my back, soothing me as we both try to catch our breaths. He gently lifts me up, letting his cock slip from me. Come drips out of me, pouring onto him but he doesn’t care and I don’t think I care either. He smooths my hair back and pulls me in for a kiss, soft and slow this time. He reaches between us, and my body jolts when he pets my pussy, rubbing at the soreness sure to come soon. When we pull away, I ask, “Where did that come from?”

“Long time in the making,” he grins wryly, “you already knew that though.” I roll my eyes but jump at the vibration in his pants. His phone was buzzing. He pauses his hand on me and reaches into his pocket awkwardly. It’s my dad’s name on the screen and my cheek runs from a soft blush to full on crimson. Cardan unlocks it and reads the message. He looks up at me warily. “He’s asking why you left early from the bar.”

“Tell him I went for a ride.” I grin.

Cardan fights a smile, muttering, “trouble,” like a praise as he begins to type.

[cafulur]

Modern / College AU Labru Snippets:

- Laios and Kabru meet as classmates who get paired together for a project, and although they initially clash at first, through the assignment they find themselves clicking in the most unexpected ways.

- After the project is finished, they still keep texting each other. Laios sends Kabru a photo of an opossum that was lurking right outside his bedroom window late one night. Kabru later texts him a picture of a fluffy stray cat that won’t leave him alone every time he walks up his apartment. He initially acts as if he doesn’t like the cat and that it’s bothering him by always following him home, but Laios constantly enthuses over text about how he would love this meet this cat someday. Suddenly Kabru is sneaking this cat little pets and treats in hopes it’ll stick around for when Laios may eventually (hopefully) come over. Before he knows it, Kabru has formed a soft spot for the stray.

- Both of their friend groups mesh and the two find themselves wondering each day when they’ll get to see each other next. They instantly attach in group settings without a second thought, and everyone notices the spark they have going on but them. Laios is excited in a ‘wow this is the coolest, nicest, most interesting friend I’ve ever had!’ type of way, while Kabru recognizes & reconciles with the fact that he’s crushing pretty early on.

- Toward the end of the semester, Marcille hosts a house party, and there’s actually a moment where Kabru sits with Chilchuck on the rooftop ?? It’s an extremely rare occasion and odd for them to ever be alone together, but Kabru had wondered out onto the second floor balcony for some fresh air + a moment to think, and spotted Chilchuck smoking a joint by himself atop the roof shackles to the right of him, just beyond the balcony.

- They watch Laios and a few others down below do something stupid and party related, like chug a drink or eat something fast in one go. It’s mostly quiet between the two up top, save for the few awkward hellos in acknowledgment when Kabru first shows up. Until Chilchuck, of all people, decides to finally break the silence between them. 

“I’d just be straight up with him at this point, if I were you.”

Kabru jumps a little at the unexpected suggestion, glancing toward him with wary eyes. He does his absolute best in every interaction to present himself in a very particular way. Had he been that easy to read all this time?

“Straight with who?” Kabru questions as innocently as he could pretend with a smile, brushing a curl behind his ear.

Chilchuck takes a drag and blows smoke up toward the sky, slightly annoyed but not trying to bite this time around. “Laios. It looks like you want something so bad, but you’re holding back or something. He’s not going to pick up on anything unless you spell it out for him, y’know.”

Kabru covers one of his ears as he feels them burn, looking down into the plastic cup barely filled with beer in his hands. “It’s not— I don’t…” he starts, but feels dumb finishing any semblance of denial. Surprising himself, he caves in, swirling the drink. “It’s just… I don’t want to lose this. His friendship has become pretty important to me.”

“Does Laios come across as someone who would make things awkward?” Chilchuck asks, snuffing out the nub of his joint into the roof and turning to Kabru. Kabru furrows his brow at him.

“Not typically, but I somehow can never figure him out when it comes to things I’ve never tried with him before. Risks with him are truly unpredictable.”

He hums in disagreement, watching the last of the smoke escape the joint before it completely fizzles out. “Eh, I don’t know. Think about it like this. If he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings, do you think he’d have trouble still being friends with you? Laios, being the way that he is, I mean.”

Kabru thinks about it for a minute. Laios really was different from other friends he’d made throughout his life. He didn’t waste time putting up fronts just to save face, and he can’t really pick up on things being awkward for either party. If Kabru confessed and got denied, it would hurt himself mostly, but it wouldn’t rapidly change the air between them. Laios probably wouldn’t want to stop being friends or need time apart just out of awkwardness, which is what one would normally expect after rejection. “I think I get what you mean. I suppose not.”

Chilchuck put the burnt out nub into his pocket to save for a final short smoke later. “I don’t know exactly what all goes on in that guy’s head, but being an observer, I’d think you’d notice by now when he’s actually looking back. I guess it’s easier as a third party.”

Kabru takes a sip of his beer as he carefully considers Chilchuck’s words and watches Laios down below. In that moment, Laios happens to look up and catch Kabru’s gaze, immediately smiling and giving him a friendly wave. It feels like it’s just between them, save for the audience member right next to Kabru witnessing the whole thing. Chilchuck sighs and stands up, dusting his pants off.

“You guys do you. I barely understand my own feelings and how to go about them these days, but if you already know yours so confidently, then there shouldn’t be much stopping you from sharing them. Bottling up seems a lot more painful. It’s hard to watch, anyway.” He stretches before crawling down from the roof shackles onto the balcony. He offers a small wave as he passes by to head inside. Kabru turns to watch him go, saying a soft “Thanks Chilchuck,” as he disappears into a hallway, presumably toward the stairs.

When Kabru turns back around and glances down, Laios is in fact still looking up at him. His face heats up a bit, unsure what to say or do in response, and then Laios is grinning brightly and motioning for him to come and join them. Kabru nods, downs the last of his drink, and then hurries inside, heart pounding in his chest.

[astrolotte]

Thinking of writing a fic where Wiggly calls Nibbly the "least evil Lord in Black" (a canonical fact about him fyi), and Nibbly responds by deciding to supposedly 'prove him right' by sabotaging his latest apocalypse and working with the humans. Just to fuck with him. As brothers do.

No clue if anyone would even be interested in it but I'm highly considering it. Maybe I'll see where this goes.

edit: turns out people are very interested in this, so I've started writing it! if you're intrigued enough here's the ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51812965

[holdy-caulfield]

You know the fanfic is good when at some point you are not sure if the thing you remember was in canon, or you have read it in fanfiction, and you mix it up.

[wishchip106]

more ready player one cherik au ideas

erik is pretty much a complete loser irl and online and barely has any friends until he meets charles at the first trial and joins his online friendgroup (aka fc xmen) when he gets the first key

everyones avatars are more based on their comic looks so they all look a bit silly but its the oasis so its okay

thats pretty much it so far my brain is slowly building some kind of a story but it hasn’t gone into details yet

i dont even know if im gonna write this i just gotta dump my ideas here otherwise they’ll be sent to the void

[screamingwiththewolves]

I generally don't make posts like this, cause I don't wanna start an argument or disagreement, but I do find the "Is Hyde really a person?" discourse, a bit odd...I know it's a comic, and maybe I'll be proved horribly incorrect but...

Does he have emotions, with personality traits and preferences? Yes.

Does he insist he's a person? Yes.

Then he is, in fact, a person.

[drones-of-innocence]

Traveled Half the World to Say, You Are My Muse...

What if in an alternate universe, Princess Peach was an exchange student studying art?

She might enjoy getting a daily coffee before classes, and particularly over the weekends where she planned to walk around the city in search of her muse.

Until, one day, she finds him.

Her muse appears to her in the form of a man at a coffee shop on a rainy day.

The dreary light from the windows catches the brightest blue eyes she's ever seen, and a frustrated hand combs back dark curls as he focuses on his laptop. A full cup of coffee sits, forgotten, by his elbow.

"Excuse me," she approached him before she can think twice, after blocking the doorway and apologizing to the incoming customers who stumbled into her. A childish sense of shame filled her, and she grasped at the straps of her messenger bag. He glanced up at her with those piercing eyes. Her throat went dry. "May—may I sketch you?"

She sees his eyes dart across her face, to the University's emblem on her shirt, to the messenger bag covered in bright patches. His mustache hides his mouth, so she can't tell what he's thinking behind that even stare.

The lack of a response compels nervous laughter. "I'm an art student. It'd just be really quick. I won't bother you; it's good practice, that's all." the explanation bubbled out of her through his silence. The other people sitting in the shop thankfully paid her no mind beyond a glance or two. She struggled not to force a harder smile.

His eyes narrowed for just a moment. She detected a touch of suspicion in his creased brow.

"Sure. Fine," he said, nodding to the seat in front of him before returning his attention to his laptop.

Relieved, Peach practically sank into the chair. "Oh, thank you. Don't mind me at all, it won't take long." she whipped out her sketchbook and pencil, trying to find a blank page to begin. He didn't answer, reviewing whatever was on his screen.

She started by mapping out the general form of his torso and face. He was quite a short man, much shorter than her, but he had an incredibly sturdy build. He wore a modest sweater, but she could see a hint of definition in his shoulders and chest even through the draping red cloth. She wondered if he was very active. Or perhaps his job demanded a certain degree of fitness.

He seemed older than her, but not by much at all. Maybe he was a recent graduate? She focused a little more on his face, trying not to get distracted by his eyes, to sketch out an accurate shape.

His sharp jawline contrasted with his round cheeks. "You have a very impressive mustache," she said, trying to capture the angles just right. She had never seen such a remarkable mustache. It suited the shape of his face so well that she had a hard time imagining his face without it. He didn't respond except to glance at her, expression still unreadable.

She grazed her pencil over the paper, a ghost of a line indicating a suspected dimple in his cheek. She wouldn't know for sure unless he smiled.

"Your nose is so unique," she murmured, careful to capture the precise form. Such a striking round shape. At this, she noticed him let out a sharp sigh and keep a stern focus on his computer. She was nearly done, though, so she had to persist. Had to get this specimen on paper.

Her education had created an efficient artist out of her. Her lines gained more focus, nearly portraying an accurate likeness.

It was those eyes that had captured her attention in the first place. She traced the shape of his thick brows, framing his face with a soft intensity. Nothing in the cafe could draw her away. Not the constant ringing of the doorbell as people came and went, not the steady noise level from the dozens of conversations around them. Not even the rich scent of the coffee that she so adored. Instead, her nose was more keen toward the fresh, clean scent that she assumed was the man's cologne. Her cheeks grew a little warm.

She just managed to trace the shape of his irises, though her linework could not capture the way the color almost glowed. She had never felt such a spark inside as she did looking upon this man. "Your eyes are so beautiful," she said, looking between him and the page. "I don't think I've ever seen such a bright blue before..." she looked up, only to trail off as she realized he was glaring at her.

"That's enough." The man stood from his stool in a flash, shoving his laptop in a bag. Peach jumped. Eyes wide.

He stopped only long enough to give her a hard look, before he turned and marched out of the cafe.

A few customers turned to look as Peach watched him go. Her heart skipped a beat, an alarmed sting of confusion going through her veins. He disappeared quickly down the street.

She didn't understand. Maybe he was busy and didn't want her to bother him? But if that were the case, he simply could have refused to allow her to draw him, right? Swallowing hard, she looked down at her quick little rendering of the man. His features all together created a soft image, with kind and earnest eyes. But suddenly, all she could see was that icy glare.

The rain picked up outside. Peach slowly put away her book and decided not to explore the city that day after all.

In her morose bewilderment, she could hardly take out her sketchbook over the next couple of days. A few of her classmates noticed and tried to engage her in idle gossip, but she didn't have the heart to pay any real attention.

Her work on the sketch had been solid. When she did take out her book, she would take some time to look at the man, even though the memory of that harsh look twisted the perception of her art.

Where the city had been so colorful and vibrant, it all suddenly seemed so dull and gray.

"Your muse?" her roommate caught her one day going over the lines, and pressed her until she'd explained the situation. "Are you sure he's your muse? Don't you think you might just have a crush on him?"

The suggestion haunted her like his face did in her dreams.

The sun warmed her back when she made her way down the street the next weekend. She caught sight of the cafe, and thought a coffee might do her some good before her excursions for the day. Classes had been long that week anyway; she deserved a little treat.

The bell rang on the door as soon as she walked in. Many people looked up at her on impulse before returning to their own drinks.

Except for him.

In the exact same place she had spotted him before. Those bright blue eyes fixed right on her. Like blue jewels in the sunlight.

Peach froze for a moment before abruptly averting her eyes. Should she leave? This was embarrassing. But an indignance rose up in her chest to fight off the shame. She had just as much of a right to be here as he did. She wasn't going to turn tail just because of some guy.

So she raised her chin, gripped the strap of her bag, and hurried to the complete opposite side of the room as him.

It was only after she had sat down and arranged her books and materials around for her homework that she realized she had forgotten to go to the counter to order herself a coffee.

Well. She had just as much of a right to be here, but she did not currently have the nerve to get back up and show herself and do something crazy like risk making eye contact again. With a deep breath, and heat rising to her cheeks, she got to work scanning over the latest assignment.

The low music playing harmonized with the low hum of conversation in the cafe. Peach tried to make sense of the description of the assignment, but she couldn't quite focus on any of the words.

A cup of coffee and a pastry appeared at her elbow.

Peach looked up. The man, the subject of her thoughts and dread the past week, took a careful step back to a respectful distance. Those pretty eyes focused on her with a hesitant guilt. He had his own coffee cup in his hand.

"I didn't know how you liked your coffee," he nodded to the cup on the table, where he had placed cream and sugar beside it. "But I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

Her throat went dry. Swallowing hard, Peach tried to figure out a normal way to sit without fidgeting. "E—excuse me?"

He nodded and took a deep breath. "I was rude to you last week. I believed you were, ah, trying to make fun of me. With all the things you said to me." He glanced at the floor before looking back at her again. "It was a mistake to assume the worst. You seem very kind. I am sorry for how I behaved to you." he tried to smile.

A new light dawned on Peach's understanding. "Oh. Oh, goodness, not at all!" She set her pencils and books aside. "I wasn't teasing you. I'm so sorry if I came across that way; I must have been distracted..."

The man waved her off. "No, please. It was nothing about you. I think you come across as very sweet, Miss. It was my fault."

Very sweet. He thought she was sweet. Peach tried to ignore the furious heat that rose up to her face. She pursed her lips and nodded her appreciation.

He gestured to the coffee and the pastry he had chosen for her. "Please," he said. "I will leave you now. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Miss—"

"Wait," Peach reached out. "Um, I just want you to know that I genuinely think that you are handsome. You have the prettiest eyes. And uh, I appreciate the apology. If you want, you could have the rest of your coffee with me?"

The man blinked at her when she moved to make a space for him to sit. She could have sworn she saw his cheeks flush with a little color. He didn't say anything.

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Peach. I'm an art student at the University. But you already knew that." she laughed nervously. "Um, what's your name?"

It occurred to her that he was just as flustered as she was. An excited, hopeful spark lit up her chest.

He reached out to shake her hand. "I'm Mario," he said, and moved to sit down.

O~o~O

[litany-writes]

just my type [ch. 1]

a landoscar vampire au

Oscar leans in to read the label on the bloodpack. “Anyways, that one’s rabbit,” he says, matter-of-factly, before standing up from the couch and stretching. “How the fuck did you-” “Oryctolagus. European rabbit genus.” Nerd, Lando thinks. “Nerd,” Lando says, and he stands up too, binning the Monster can as Oscar returns the bloodpack to the fridge. In which Oscar is a vampire, is crushing on his teammate, and is attempting at all costs to avoid Carlos Sainz. In which Lando is aware of none of these things.

aka i'm back to longform writing (...and RPF writing...) for the first time in 2-3 years! this is what i did last week instead of my psychology homework. that probably say something about me. enjoy!!

[squidkidnerd]

man I should make an agent 24 discord server. i joined a writing-focused splatoon server a while back, and it's pretty cool. ppl are always coming up w a lot of fun and really creative au ideas and the like, but the thing is is most of it's centered around the squid sisters/agent 4, who are like... while I like them and have written stuff about them in the past, they're not my Muses yk. so basically what im saying is that i need more ppl to be insane abt 3 n 8 with.

[lunarsolar1]

Someone please write fan fiction and make a better ending for season 4 :) like I’m begging yall, please redeem whatever the f*ck was that!!!!

It needs redemption IMMEDIATELY, like this cannot be the finale. I’m in DENIAL, I refuse to believe it ended like that, NO! :) someone needs to make it better clearly they failed

I would do it but my writing skills are horrible, unless someone wants to cowrite with me (if you have more better writing skills than me cause mine sucks) cause I have so much ideas for a good season 4 finale so if anyone wants to help me out please dm me (or comment)! Cause I really want to write a better season 4, this deserves justice 😞✊🤧

[thelilylav]

Thinking about Daring and Lizzie. Thinking about Lizzie breaking up with him because he would never feel at home in Wonderland, and she would always feel guilty for it. Thinking about her choosing her people over her prince, her responsibility over her happiness. Thinking about her telling him that he has his siblings in Ever After, but she has no one, and vice versa. Thinking about Daring pleading with her to not let him go and her telling him that it will be for the best, that one day he'll find someone who will make him happier than she ever could. It's for the best.

Thinking about her seeing him a year later, standing hand in hand with a brunette and smiling ear to ear. Thinking about how she'd turn away from them and smile, happy for them even as her heart ripped open. Thinking about how he found someone who would let him be their world when she couldn't. Thinking about how she'd whisper,

"I told you so."

[nezumeanie]

♡⃣ v a l k y r i e ’ s simple affection is shown by…𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ 𖥻 ִ ۫ ּ

….basking in your presence. mika is content anywhere as long as you’re the person beside him. running errands with you goes beyond being a favorite pastime of his, it’s a genuine honor of his to be allowed to spend the most mundane hours of life with you. holding your grocery bags while talking about the colors in the advertisements you’ve seen in store windows, making up names and stories for puppies seen tied to cafe tables outside, predicting the weather, discussing how intelligent humans are for inventing things for even the smallest of inconveniences—in the silence between topics mika thanks that god over and over again that someone could love a half broken product like him. he feels truly blessed by you, especially if you find the right time to rub his head or scratch under his chin. in the small times you spend together, he blushes so much around you that you begin to believe he really is just a cherry cheeked kind of boy

….pinching your cheek and clicking his teeth. only you can hear the care in shu’s nagging, the softness in his correction. only he can see the hair on your head that’s out of place, the tag sticking out of your shirt. brushing a hair out of your face while your hands are full, fastening your necklace for you after you’ve fumbled with the latch for a minutes or so, retying your shoes for you mumbling about how childish you truly are—shu can’t admit it but he really does enjoy just taking care of you. you’re a precious artifact to him, something that needs delicate hands and a proper home. taking note of the colors you wear often, the times of year you sneeze the most, the kind of drinks that you cringe at, whether or not you enjoy the guitar and if he should find ways to incorporate into his work..even in his own little world, there remains a spot for you. somehow you’re approval has also become vital to his projects, knowing you believe in his genius gives his a sense of pride like he’s never felt when he’s done this alone. after so many years of safe and cold porcelain skin, shu never realized how strong his craving was to feel something so warm and inviting until now