#i've read this fic A LOT

[blue-cassowary]

Doodles for one of my favorite UraIchi fic "Glass Body, Steel Wings" by @devinephoenix

I'll probably clean it up when I'm feeling less lazy haha

Part 2 :)

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name

[sassypantsjaxon]

So I'm watching one piece, and the episode with Zoro's tragic backstory made me realize that he didn't really seem to realize how important Kuina was to him until after she had died. And then it occured to me that it's probably the same with Sanji. So he's spent all this time in this rivalry with this guy, constantly fighting together, pushing each other to be better, and he just...never realizes how similar it is to what he had with Kuina.

And then the time skip happens, but since he's away from the whole crew and he's fighting someone else, he doesn't realize anything about Sanji specifically. And then Whole Cake and the wedding. And he's like 'yeah, sure. Cook thinks that's what he wants, let him go.' And he thinks he's fine without him.

Except meals are different. They're fine. But they're different, and he can't figure out exactly why.

Except when he eventually finds his way to the kitchen, there's no onigiri waiting for him as a snack while he's on watch. Except there's no one to gripe about him sneaking alcohol even as he unlocks the cupboard for him. Except when he practices his swordfighting with any of the Heart pirates, they don't already know all his moves. Except they're afraid to taunt him if he slips up. Except they can't even tell when he slips up. Except when he tries to pick a fight with anyone because he's bored, the Heart pirates don't know what to do with that, or Usopp will start to freak out or Robin and Franky just won't rise to his bait.

And then he remembers Koshirou telling him that he pushed Kuina to be better.

And he realizes that's what Sanji is to him.

And it's fine. It's fine. Luffy will bring the Cook back, and everything will go back to normal. Except Nami was really freaked out by Sanji leaving. Except what if he really does get married? Except what if he doesn't really come back? And Zoro just doesn't think he can go through that again.

But of course Sanji does come back and he's different and he's trying to pretend he's the same. And now Zoro knows. And he's got all of these feelings that he's suddenly become aware of, except he still has a negative amount of emotional intelligence, so he's still just picking all these stupid fights because he doesn't know what else to do.

And everybody else is like 'well, Sanji's back, and everything's the same' and Zoro's the only one going 'No! everything has changed!' because he's still the only one aware of his feelings, and he just...doesn't know what to do with them?

[crispyliza]

Have you guys ever been in a fandom where the majority of its fanfiction was really high-quality? If so, tell me which fandom it is in the tags. For me it's the Witcher.

[starflungwaddledee]

from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7

message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "

[deafening-radio-silence]

always thinking about super soldier/healing factor body horror. bones healing wrong within minutes, skin forming over glass and shrapnel. when steve rogers stops the helicopter with his bare hands, his sternum splits and his rib cage splays as his bones give up before his muscles do. sometimes it's less destructive just to leave the bullet inside. how can you perform surgery on someone who heals faster than you can cut? chronic pain is a wicked side effect of an accelerated healing factor as your body is constantly mending and moving everything, everything, everything at a rapid pace. sure the viruses don't affect you, but does your body eliminate them before you can spread them to everyone else? you are always hungry, you are always wired; some days you feel too much, other days you can hardly feel anything at all. everyone knows the metabolism is faster but you'll also run out of air long before anyone else... and just how much can you recover from? maybe your body is more resilient, but your mind isn't necessarily. unless it is, and you're no longer you. just how much pain can you actually take? 'cause you can feel it all. the serum speeds up natural processes; it fixes things but it does not prevent them. it doesn't save you. there are many, many things that it is not a mercy to survive.

[dinsbeskar]

Two's Company, Three is Torture (Sauron/F!Reader)

Sauron finds new ways to please his wife as Annatar and Halbrand have their way with you; or:

Sauron Smut 2: Electric Boogaloo

Sequel to Evil Will Find Her // AO3 Link

Warnings: Annatar/you/Halbrand - there's 2 of them now, I am sorry!! Threesome, P in V sex, double P in V sex, overstimulation, mentions of oral sex (female receiving), fingering, teasing, praise and degradation (sporadic use of sl*t/wh*re)

A/N: This fic is @sansaorgana's fault, I blame her for everything 😂 One Sauron is a lot, two of them is torture, but you take it like a champ.

Word Count: 3.1k

"I think," Annatar murmurs in your ear, "that you like this, love."

You can feel Halbrand smirk against your neck and continue his attentions licking and kissing up to your ears, biting your earlobe and making you moan.

"Is that right, angel? Is this making you wet for us?" Your already ragged breath hitches at Halbrand's rough voice in your ear; his fingers trail to your chest, kneading your heated flesh and you gasp aloud, making them chuckle.

"I don't think she's capable of intelligible speech at the moment, right sweetheart?" Annatar continues his ministrations, teasing your mound, tracing idle circles every which way, except for where you ache for them.

~

When your husband returned to you, it was not a form you'd have instantly connected to him. Obviously you knew it was him, your souls singing in their close proximity, his inability to hide his thrill at your presence. But he was clearly a Man, not Elvish in appearance as he had been, and roguishly handsome, with dark curls and the beginnings of a beard. In other words, opposite in every way to what you were used to.

Once you'd got over your shock at his return, and said all you needed to say after your centuries apart, you got to admiring him. Rugged where he had been ethereal, dark in countenance where he had been unearthly and radiant, rough and untempered, calloused hands and stubbled skin that set you ablaze with every gentle touch.

It was unfortunate then, that you did not get the chance to enjoy him as much as you'd have liked, thanks to Galadriel discovering his identity, forcing him to flee. You'd lain awake thinking of him often before he returned to you, and you continue that particular ritual after he flees, but now he appeared more and more often as Halbrand; would he be upset to learn you desired him however he might appear, that the fair forms he chose to please you were wasted on you, if you'd be happy with some man from the Southlands?

You'd stayed in Eregion after Sauron had fled, to await his inevitable return after he'd set his plan in motion in Mordor. You were sure he would have to disguise himself once again, and to your great dismay you mourned the King of the Southlands. Surely you should be happy with him, however he appears, however he acts? Your lord husband had returned to you, that was the only thing that mattered.

So when Lord Celebrimbor lets slip that Halbrand is back and waiting on his front porch, your heart soars. And you feel an unmistakable wave of arousal. He had been nigh insatiable for the weeks he'd spent with you while they forged the three rings; frankly, even the mention of his name was enough to warm your blood and wet your thighs.

"Don't you think we should let him in?" You ask softly, "We can't let him freeze, and we can treat with him tomorrow?"

"Lady Galadriel was very clear, I won't break my word to her." Celebrimbor will not be swayed so easily, and it is only when his favourite apprentice, Mirdania, tells him that Lord Halbrand is injured, it is cold, we should let him in for the night if only to tend his wounds, that he concedes and goes to speak with him himself.

You know your husband will have his way, and so you settle into your soft warm bed to wait for him; he'll be along, he always knows where to find you.

By the time he slips through your door in the dead of night, you have drifted off, hugging a large leather bound tome, candle burning low.

He greets you with a gentle kiss to your forehead, before curling around you and pulling you close. You open your eyes to find the room near dark, with only the moon illuminating the pair of you. His strong arms around you and his familiar smoky scent immediately put you at ease, and you nestle closer, beyond content that he is by your side once more.

"You feel different, my love."

He tenses a little, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"I'm here now, that's what matters." He seems to say it more for himself than you, but you take it anyway, always so greedy for any sweet sentiment he bestows upon you.

You notice long hair tickling your neck, and the distinct lack of friction on your skin from Halbrand's facial hair, and you realise he has disguised himself once more. It would have been nice to give Lord Halbrand a parting gift, you think to yourself, but after all how can you complain when you know he is the most beautiful creature in Middle Earth, whatever form he takes.

~

Lord Annatar is a taskmaster, and his long hours in the forge make you restless and wanting for him. Thankfully for you, he does not require rest and is always the obliging husband.

It is during the afterglow one night when he had ravished you senseless, that the two of you speak of Halbrand again.

"Beloved, I have a question for you."

"It had better be a good one, I was falling asleep," you grumble, but you turn to face him anyway, head resting on your hand while you trace his chest.

"I think it is." He is uncharacteristically slow to speak, making you wonder what could possibly have him so tongue tied.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together, reassuring, steadfast in your affection.

"I know your heart like it is my own," he avoids your gaze, seemingly far-off in his own thoughts, but continues, "and of late I wonder if perhaps you're missing something."

Your brow furrows deeply; what could you possibly long for, now that your soul has returned to you?

"I know you were unsure when I came home to you, that I was... unlike myself," he searches for the words, something you have never seen him need to do. "I could not appear as I once did, and I worried that Halbrand would repulse you-"

"You could never, my love," and you grip his fingers tightly, kissing his palm, "you could appear to me deformed, with three heads, no body at all, and I would still want you." You cannot help but interrupt him, to soothe the nagging doubts he appears to have.

"-but I was wrong." He looks at you finally, his expression making your stomach drop.

"You weren't repulsed at all, in fact you enjoyed the low man from the Southlands far more than I ever thought possible." He graces you with an affectionate smile, and your heart begins beating again.

"He was... different. But he was you, and that is all I ever need." You lean in to kiss him deeply, entwining your fingers in his long silky hair.

"I thought perhaps," he pauses, an uncharacteristic blush painting his features, "that you might want to see him again?"

Your heart melts, aching in your chest as you reflect on his question. Of course you'd like Halbrand in your bed once more. But you were very happy with the man in front of you too. The choice made your head spin.

"I want you, only you, however you appear. He had a certain... quality, that I enjoyed, I cannot lie. But I love you, and I couldn't be without my Lord of Gifts now that I have tasted him." You kiss the tip of his nose, and feel his soul swell against yours, caressing you tenderly.

You roll over and nestle into his chest once more, pressing your back against him insistently, his arms wrapping around you instinctively. After a long pause he speaks again.

"What if you could have both?" He asks, tone steady but heart racing.

"Wouldn't that be nice..." You murmur, already halfway between waking and dreaming. You pull his arms tighter around you and sigh, letting his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

He can only but watch you, eyes crinkled at the corners with a beautiful genuine smile, the like of which he keeps only for you. He kisses the top of your head and waits for dawn.

~

That is how you ended up in your bed, wrapped in two pairs of arms, with two mouths driving you to distraction, adored and sinfully worshipped.

~

"I think, my lovely wife, that you don't want me to know how much you love this." Annatar's fingers at your entrance halt, and you whimper, begging in breathless moans for him to continue.

"That the attention you crave from me cannot possibly be satisfied by one pair of hands, that I must build an army to ravish you, one by one, until you're a shaking quivering mess." His warm breath ghosting over your skin as he teases you is driving you wild, and you buck up into his fingers. He withdraws them completely and fixes you with a scolding glare.

"Ah ah, you're not chasing us tonight, there is more than enough for you, greedy little thing, you have to exercise patience for once." Halbrand's smile is so sweet, you could almost forgive him, no, them, the torture inflicted upon with two pairs of hands, two mouths, not to mention-

"Do you think she's ready? She's dripping for it, she'll feel so fucking good," Halbrand turns to his counterpart, his hard cock throbbing for your attention, seeming to beg to be allowed to touch you further, a reminder of who is really in charge here.

"Do you deserve us yet, love?" You'd beg for their touch if Annatar had not already silenced you, his lips pressed to yours as he languidly strokes himself.

The moment he pulls away, Halbrand takes his place, worrying your bottom lip with his teeth, kneading your flesh with such desperation, it wrenches your heart. He retreats slightly to give you a reprieve, to let you take in a breath and to stare at your face in wonderment.

Your hair is mussed and tangled, your blushing face covered in a sheen of sweat, your lips parted and panting; he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

Annatar cuts short your respite with a bruising kiss, pulling your head back with his fingers in your hair, tugging at your scalp deliciously, the twang of pain shooting straight to your core.

Halbrand reaches between you and finds your swollen clit, so eager to please, his patience already thin and wanting.

There is nothing but the two sweat-slicked bodies pressing you into submission; you can think of nothing else but the thrills they bestow on your frazzled senses.

Annatar's hard length prods insistently at your back, making you giggle and reach around for him. You feel his lips at your neck; you can picture his self-satisfied expression as he taunts you with his caress, running the tip of his cock along your entrance.

You arch back against him, pulling him closer, but Halbrand holds you firm, claiming your lips for his own once more.

They are relentless; one pulls away so you can catch your breath only for a second before the other steals it, devouring you like starving men.

"You know just how to please us, angel," Halbrand murmurs in your ear, shifting your weight and positioning you over Annatar's lap.

He eases inside you slowly, languorously, with one hand around your throat pulling you back into his dangerous embrace. You lock eyes with Halbrand, looking up at you through hooded eyes, panting in tune with you, his every breath matching yours.

As Annatar starts to move, your toes curl and you reach for Halbrand, your hands on his shoulders as you tense your thigh muscles against the long, leisurely strokes inside you. It isn't long before you feel yourself clench around him, relieved to finally find your release.

"Not yet, love," you hear Annatar sigh, brushing your hair over your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck.

He robs you of the fullness in your core as he pulls out, breath shuddering as he mourns the loss of your tight wet heat around him, but he perseveres; tonight is for you, his pleasure can wait.

They make eye contact over your shoulder and Halbrand's face lights up; it is his turn with your cunt and he doesn't hesitate, burying himself to the hilt, teasing your breasts with his tongue as you press closer to meet his thrusts.

One hand is entwined with his sweat-soaked curls, the other woven into Annatar's long golden hair, pulling them to meet you in a clash of tongues that spikes a wave of slick between your thighs, provoking a long guttural groan from the pair of them as they take you in all your glory.

"So fucking tight on my cock, so wet, listen to those moans, you'd fuck us both over and over until you can't stand, wouldn't you?" Halbrand's stream of consciousness is ceaseless as he ruts into you, as Annatar traces your sides and kisses you languidly.

The polar opposite sensations have you in a spin and you grip the bedsheets, desperate for any kind of release from this exquisite torture.

"You are beautiful like this, love," Annatar whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe, "anyone would think you like being the Dark Lord's needy little plaything? Is that it? You so enjoy being at our mercy, like a good little slut, that you'll take anything we give you." His voice is becoming rough, his pupils blown, as he gives himself over to the pleasure the three of you share.

Every drag of Halbrand's cock is accompanied by a ragged moan that reverberates in your core; you run your fingers through the soft hair on his chest, face buried in his neck, as Annatar sucks a deep bruise on your neck, fingers tracing your entrance as Halbrand bounces you on his thighs.

You feel Annatar's length once more at your entrance, and you can't breathe. No way is he about to do what you think he is planning. You gasp as Halbrand's thick cock enters you, followed by Annatar's long clever fingers stretching you deliciously, robbing you of breath and sense.

You arch your back, breasts in Halbrand's face only for a second before he takes a nipple in his mouth, giving you all the attention you crave and more.

It's too much, your sensitised flesh screams for release, as Annatar adds another finger, then another, whispering praise in your ear with every addition.

"Good girl, so good for us, are you ready for me, love? Need you, want you, can't wait any longer..." he withdraws his fingers as Halbrand slows his thrusts, idly pumping into you as a wordless agreement passes between them.

"Tell us to stop," Halbrand groans, gripping your thighs like you might slip through his fingers, "tell us you don't want this and we'll stop, tell us you don't need this just as much as we do, that you haven't dreamed of us taking you at once..."

Even if you wanted them to stop, you couldn't find the words to do so, all powers of language and reason seemingly spent.

"She would never," you hear Annatar behind you, readying his cock with your wetness, tip at your entrance. "She wants this more than us, don't you, sweetling? So sweet, so fucking good, but a needy slut all the same-"

He interrupts himself by sliding into your cunt, thrusting up and moaning in your ear, offering you his fingers that you take in your mouth gladly, muffling your scream as you taste yourself on his fingers. You rest your forehead on Halbrand's, body tensing at the new intrusion; they give you a moment to adjust, to accommodate this alien sensation of both of them inside you.

"Are you ready, love? You're ours, and we can have you whenever we wish." Halbrand gives a low chuckle at your parted lips, your blown pupils, and throws all caution to the wind.

When they both thrust inside you, you see stars, you can't breathe, it's too fucking much-

"Don't fucking come, that's a good girl," Halbrand has to be the one to speak, Annatar is buried in your neck, thrusting in time and panting, kissing every inch of you he can reach.

They have you fixed between them, nowhere to go, no way to move, prisoner to their attentions. The way they're stretching you out, you're not sure you'll ever be content with one husband again, you're so thoroughly spoiled with two.

Halbrand finds your lips and swallows your moans, finding your swollen clit amidst your tangled flesh; so in tune are the three of you that you don't know where you end and they begin.

You feel hands clawing at your breasts, tracing your sides, pulling at your hips, but there is no distraction from the incredible fullness in your core. Your thigh muscles burn as you take every delicious inch twice over, the sweet spot inside you coiling, inflaming you and driving you to madness.

"Done so well, love," you hear Halbrand say between groans, "do you think you should be allowed to come?"

They both smirk at you adoringly as you cry out, pleading, trembling.

"Please, fuck... please, I've been so good, please..." Your throaty moans are lost as your husbands hungrily claim your lips one after the other, someone's fingers in your hair, tracing the sensitive tips of your ears; you’ve lost track, only feeling flesh on flesh.

"Come for us, darling, such a good needy little whore for us, for your Dark Lord, given us everything, and you always will, won't you?" Annatar's question breaks you from your reverie and you whimper.

"Yes, love, everything, always." You don't know what you're saying, and you don't care, totally lost in the spell he has cast over you.

Stars explode behind your eyes, warmth floods your body, and you're wracked with a pleasure that surmounts anything you've ever experienced with him before. You can feel them pulsing inside you, a satisfying warmth filling you up as you greedily take it all, your walls milking every drop of seed deep into your womb.

It's too much, intense and drawn out, but they hold you between them, wringing every clench and moan they can from you as you ride your high, exhausting every last drop of pleasure from you, before laying you down between them, still touching you all over, encompassing you in every which way.

It takes a minute for you to come back to them, but when you do, they're already kissing better the bruises they've left, soothing your aching muscles.

"We should do that again," you murmur, each hand tracing their faces, revelling in the different sensations they afford you.

"We have all night, love, rest for now." Halbrand chuckles, stroking your hair, as Annatar parts your thighs, and settles his face between them.

"On second thought-"

You don't get much rest that night after all.

[varpusvaras]

Dick had many soulmarks.

Not as many as someone would've thought, probably, with the amount of friends that he had, but still many. They adorned his forearm like jewelry, circling around his skin in intricate patterns. Every single one of them just as beautiful as the other, just like the people they belonged to. Dick thought every single one of them as a blessing.

He had done so especially after the first two had faded away.

They were still there, of course. Nothing could ever truly erase a mark on someone's soul, after all. Not even death. Dick would've been even more devastated if the marks would've disappeared with his parents, even if sometimes looking at the now liveless marks hurt.

They had hurt, physically, when it had happened. When the bodies had hit the ground and Dick's heart had been ripped into pieces, the marks had burned, searing hot white pain latching onto him, pulling at his skin the same as his heart.

Not that Dick had really noticed it, then. He had been hurting too much otherwise to really care about it in the moment.

He had latched onto every new mark with all of his heart afterwards. It had hurt, when Bruce's had appeared, as it made the white, faded color of his parents' marks stand out even more, but the joy had been enough to chase the hurt away. Alfred's had not hurt nearly as much, and with his friends, he had simply been happy.

Dick would've never said it out loud, but he did have favorites. His parents', even faded. He didn't think anyone would blame him for that one. Bruce's, in a sense, as it had been the first live one he had gained.

His absolute favorite, though?

Jason's.

Jason was...different. He wasn't his parents, nor was he his caretaker. He had no obligations to Dick, even if obligations did not really affect the formation of the marks. He wasn't Dick's friend, either, not the same way anyone in the team was.

He was Dick's little brother.

And Dick would've given him the world.

Jason had been ecstatic when the marks had appeared, and, to be perfectly honest, so had Dick. They were such beautiful marks too, the lines twisting around themselves to form images of wings in flight, shining when light hit them just right, every new angle bringing out a new detail.

"Birds of a feather, right?" Dick had said, grinning wildly. "That's what we are, Little Wing, and the marks know it."

He had ruffled Jason's hair, and Jason had grinned back at him, and for that moment, Dick had been able to forget everything else. No argument or hurt had mattered even in the slightest.

It had just been Dick and Jason, in their own world, one that was only for them.

---

Dick was exhausted.

In a good way, for once. If there was a good way to be exhausted. Maybe saying that he was exhausted in a better way was more correct. No one was hurt too badly, and the day had been more or less a success. All things considered, at the very least.

He missed home. It was maybe a stupid thing to say, Dick knew that so many people back home would've given everything to go to space, but Dick was tired. He was tired of being the leader, tired of seeing his friends get hurt, tired of failing in some way every single day.

He missed home. Even if things with Bruce were not perfect, everything was still much simpler back at the Manor, at least compared to this. Alfred would be there, with his gentle yet firm words and reassurances, and Bruce, even when Dick wanted to mostly scream at him, was still a familiar presence in a familiar space.

Jason would be there, too, talking Dick's ear off, making the house lived in, making it feel like an actual home.

Dick just wanted this whole thing to be over already, if he was being completely honest. Today had been a good day, all things considered, and all Dick wanted to do was to faceplant on his bed and sleep without too many worried for once. Sleep and hope that it would bring him closer to getting back home.

Of course, he couldn't do that, not just yet. Even if no one was hurt too badly, he needed to make sure that everything was in order, make sure that they had all they needed, make sure-

One moment he was thinking about all the things he needed to still do, and the next he was on the ground on his hands and knees, being torn to pieces and burned alive.

There were voices around him. Someone was touching him, hands warm on his skin, tilting his face up, but Dick couldn't see who it was. His heart was beating erratically, like it was trying to tear itself to shreds and out of its place. It burned, searing hot, white pain, that had turned him into a human torch.

Distantly, Dick knew that he already knew this pain.

He got a breath in to his burning lungs. Then another one. He was still on fire, but he could see again.

Kory was right in front of him, holding his head. Dick was mostly on the ground, now, laying on his side, only barely holding himself on his elbows.

He had no idea when he had gotten there.

Kory seemed to notice that he had come back to himself. Her face relaxed ever so slightly as his eyes met hers.

"Dick?" She asked. Her voice was low, and she was clearly trying to keep it soft, but it was still pinched with worry, just like her eyes. "Are you alright?"

Dick didn't know what to say to her.

He knew he wasn't injured, not badly at least. He knew that, but he didn't feel alright, not in the slightest.

The pain was still there, curling around the edges of him, his skin feeling like embers that were still smoldering, even though the fire had gone away. He couldn't feel his arm properly, and Dick wondered if something had-

Suddenly he felt cold.

He pushed himself up, ignoring how shaky he felt. He almost fell down again, and Kory tried to put her hands on him, maybe to push him back down or to help him up. Dick didn't know, and he didn't have the time to stop and figure it out.

His suit was on the way. Dick tugged at it, then dug his teeth on the sleeve and ripped the seam open with force he hadn't known he possessed in his jaws, and he dug his fingers in it again and continued ripping the sleeve off of his skin.

There were voices around him again, someone's hands on his shoulders, but Dick didn't pay any attention to any of it. He needed to get it off, he needed to get it off, so he could see, he needed to get it off so he could see-

Jason's mark was gone.

It had been between Bruce's and Alfred's, golden and warm and brilliant, wings in flight, and it was gone.

Dick tilted his arm, tried to catch it in light, like he had done before, to make it shine like it always had, and-

It was there.

It was still there.

Faded.

White.

Dead.

Just like his parents.

The fire burned again where his heart should've been, freezing cold, hollowing him out from the inside.

The world disappeared from around him as Dick screamed.

[causeimanartist]

Man of few words

[weareallgonnaliveforawhile]

Y'all know those fanfics where Saiki is an asshole to Teruhashi or really rude to her until they start dating? Yeah, this is what I imagine what that Saiki meeting Canon Saiki would be like.

Canon Saiki: So do you still deal with Teruhashi?

Fanfic Saiki: I can not avoid that woman. The other day she was bothering me when a mob of her fans showed up so I teleported away and-

Canon Saiki, surprised: You revealed your powers to her?! I mean, her fans do suck, so I can understand panicking and teleporting the both of you away-

Fanfic Saiki: What? No, I teleported myself away and left her there.

Canon Saiki: You what.

Fanfic Saiki: I teleported myself away. Well actually, I was the one who kinda summoned that crowd so that she'd be too overwhelmed with them to go find me-

Canon Saiki, shaking with murderous rage: You what.

[syaolaurant]

20 years old MC, Sebastian, Ominis & Anne ~ . To be honest I still have yet decided on the crew's career after graduation. But I have some thoughts about grown-up Seb will work as an Unspeakable for the Ministry, Ominis may become a healer and Anne may work as a potioneer and help Ominis.

For Violette I'm still hesitating between her becoming an ancient magic researcher or gemologist. But I'm sure that both were not what a 5th year Violette wanted to do, she dreamed of becoming a professional fortune teller 😅😅

[numbuh424]

shoutout to whatever L and Light had going on in Time Speaks

[mantimae]

Thinking about how Tim in RR 2009 had time to totally trash his room (shattered glass EVERYWHERE, furniture thrown into walls etc.) right after Dick took away robin and also had time to clean it up completely, incredibly tidy, pristine and neat. PACK and LEAVE without anyone even noticing or coming to check on him. And then once Alfred did come to bring him a snack he was immediately scolding before he noticed Tim was gone and then surprised when Tim wasn't there. Absolutely underappreciated moment and I will be drawing about it.

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #148

You know those homework assignments where you have to interview someone in your family and then write an essay about their responses? Fic where Peter's class is told to interview their dad / a father figure in their life. 

Peter decides to interview Tony. But, he doesn't want his class to accuse him of lying, and he definitely doesn't want Tony to know what the assignment is about. 

So for Tony, Peter makes it seem like the assignment is just to interview anyone. Then, he carefully chooses questions to ask that are domestic and personal enough to avoid any mention of superheroes, celebrities, or so on. The few details that do slip through he just leaves out of his final essay.

For the class problem, Peter solves it by referring to Tony in the essay exclusively as "dad"

Unfortunately for Peter, the teacher then announces a part 2 to the assignment. Right after collecting the essays, the teacher says they will now need to bring the people they interviewed to school for their presentations

Peter has pretty much decided to not even mention it to Tony and just say his dad is busy. But then Flash has to open his big mouth. 

He accuses Peter of just making his assignment up, loudly reminding the class that he's an orphan. Peter clarifies that this father figure thing is a new development, but now the teacher looks suspicious

Peter is going to have to ask Tony to come to his school. And he's going to have to explain why the class will be full of kids and their fathers

[bonesandthebees]

sigh feeling nostalgic for my old fics/the old community these days. I miss it man.

[chiropteracupola]

an assortment of my temeraireverse fic-dragons!

[cygnet and honoré are from fifteenth-century britain and france, aquilillus, flavia magna, and bán are from second-century britain, and cipachcoatzin is from sixteenth-century mesoamerica]